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By now the opening weekend mania of Superbad has subsided, and hardcore Rogen/Apatow fans have already seen it. I’m sure you know the essentials by this point: it’s a hilarious, ceaselessly offensive teen sex comedy starring several relative unknowns. It was written semi-autobiographically by Seth Rogen (of Knocked Up fame) and Evan Goldberg, who lend their first names to the two main characters. It’s the stuff classics are made of, and this one’s sure to make plenty of VH1 “I love the 2000s” episodes twenty years down the road.
Superbad is the inspiring, heartwarming, hugs-and-puppies tale of two boys coming of age and overcoming obstacles. If you happen to be inspired by puke and heartwarmed by sketches of personified male anatomy, of course. Which I’m sure you are. The story takes place during a single day and night, which is apparently a prerequisite for a successful teen comedy. It’s the epic chronicle of two adolescent horndogs (Jonah Hill and Michael Cera) and their search for booze/”the ladies.” Humorous, yes. Adorable, sometimes. Uncomfortable, always.
Hill does his darndest to steal every scene, but after the initial shock of his relentless pottymouthedness wears off, his constant spew of commentary starts to become white noise. Cera, meanwhile, quietly shines — and has some of the funniest moments in the film (although the trophy for funniest and most inappropriate four-word line has to go to newcomer Christopher Mintz-Plasse). Most of the time Cera’s character was so adorably awkward that I just wanted to give him a big hug and say, “don’t worry, I’m pretty sure you’ll get the girl in the end — and probably learn a valuable moral lesson, too!”
On the road to obtaining booze and getting with chicks, the two boys (three if you count Mintz-Plasse’s Fogell, AKA “McLovin”) encounter an array of quirky supporting characters, including a pair of amazingly incompetent cops, a shady 30-something party crasher, and an inebriated woman whose time of the month seems to have come a tad early, ubeknownst to her.
However much Superbad might play to the lowest common denominator, in the end it never strays from the Teen Romp Handbook, which is actually quite old-fashioned. Some of the cardinal rules include: the underdog gets the girl, friendship is lost and then recovered, and love (not sex) conquers all. The high school comedies of my adolescence all followed these rules — think American Pie, Can’t Hardly Wait, She’s All That and 10 Things I Hate About You. Everyone always learns something by the end of the film and usually has grown up a bit in the process. Superbad is endearing, even sweet, in how earnestly it follows the conventions of these coming-of-age comedies. Even though it surpasses them all in sheer obscenity, it never entirely loses its innocence. No matter how hard the main characters try.
Superbad stars Jonah Hill, Michael Cera, Seth Rogen, Christopher Mintz-Plasse and Bill Hader.
Last week I had a sudden craving to watch a fractured fairy tale. Instead of doing the intelligent thing and Netflixing Shrek or re-watching my own copy of The Princess Bride, I made the grievous mistake of renting Happily N’Ever After. I did this in full knowledge of its abysmal reviews and poor box office, but somehow the idea of seeing my girl Sarah Michelle onscreen again (well, at least hearing her onscreen) was too much to resist. My common sense lost out, and in the end, so did my eyeballs. This movie–is just–UGH.
But the train wreck that is Happily N’Ever After is not the point of this review. The point of mentioning this monumentally forgettable feature is to contrast it with a truly unforgettable fractured fairy tale. Stardust, starring Claire Danes, Michelle Pfeiffer and Robert DeNiro, will give moviegoers a thoroughly enjoyable couple of hours. It isn’t quite The Princess Bride, but then again, I don’t think it wants to be.
Tristan (Charlie Cox), a cute-as-a-button shopboy of unusual parentage, loves Victoria (Sienna Miller), a spoiled brat. The two live in an English village conveniently located next to the giant, hidden magical kingdom of Stormhold, which is separated from our world by a great wall. One evening as Tristan struggles in vain to woo Victoria, they see a star falling into the land beyond the wall. To “win” the hand of Miss Perfect, Tristan ventures into Stormhold to retrieve the star for her.
The fallen star, as it turns out, has transformed into a woman named Yvaine (Claire Danes). By the time Tristan reaches the bleach-blond, snarky, injured star, she’s become the target of a murderous pursuit thanks to her everlasting-life-giving properties. Among the pursuers is Lamia (Michelle Pfeiffer), a semi-Shakespearian witch who ages visibly with every spell she casts, and a pair of princes who long to use the star and the trinket she carries (long story) to become king.
Adding to this already extensive cast of characters is Captain Shakespeare, the commander of a flying vessel played by a joyfully typecast Robert DeNiro, and an assemblage of ghostly ex-princes who were felled by their brothers and are now cursed to hang around providing comic relief until a new king is crowned. Confused yet? It all makes some measure of sense in context, but at times audiences may struggle to keep up with the large (for a fairy tale) number of interweaving plot lines.
Stardust feels like a fairy tale in the classic sense, in that extraordinary things occur with absolutely no explanation. The fallen star transforms into Claire Danes when it reaches earth. Why? Because that’s just what stars do. They turn into sarcastic twentysomethings. This sets it apart from fantasies like Lord of the Rings because it doesn’t feel the need to build an entire believable world complete with detailed rules and complicated lore. When the viewer asks “why?” the answer is more often than not, “because.”
Comparisons to Shrek and The Princess Bride also fall short. Stardust, while definitely exhibiting a silly streak, is overall much more earnest and sweet — not necessarily a selling point, but in this case it works wonderfully. The worst part of the movie, in fact, is when that sweetness is threatened. Well, that and having to watch the gorgeous Michelle Pfeiffer go from Catwoman to cat lady (and eventually to resembling the Cryptkeeper). It’s almost physically painful.
But, thankfully, not as painful as watching Happily N’Ever After.
Stardust stars Claire Danes, Michelle Pfeiffer, Robert DeNiro, Charlie Cox, Sienna Miller, Peter O’Toole, Rupert Everett
