By Susan Granger
Special to WestportNow
Since the 1930s, audiences have loved Hollywood’s screwball comedies. Unfortunately, in this highly politicized, PC-oriented time, they’re few and far-between. Now, Charlize Theron and Seth Rogen team up as mismatched lovers in “Long Shot,” a raunchy, far-fetched but funny romance.
Scruffy Fred Flarsky (Rogen) is a fearless journalist who quits his job when an unscrupulous media tycoon (think Rupert Murdock) Parker Wembley (Andy Serkis) takes over his Brooklyn-based alt-weekly. Despondent, he joins his childhood buddy Lance (O’Shea Jackson Jr.) for a pity-party that winds up at a fancy Manhattan gala.
When he spies Wembley, Fred causes a commotion by telling him off, catching the attention of glamorous U.S. Secretary of State Charlotte Field (Theron), who recognizes him as the 13-year-old neighbor she used to baby-sit for. That’s their “meet cute” moment.
Since the current Oval Office occupant (Bob Odenkirk), a vain former TV actor, now wants to be a movie star, savvy, idealistic Charlotte is readying a run for POTUS.
Charlotte’s consultants have told that she’s not funny enough, so hiring quick-witted Fred to spice up her speeches seems like a good idea. To her, perhaps, but not to her disapproving aides (June Diane Raphael, Ravi Patel) who are dismayed by Fred’s unkempt appearance and outspoken manner.
Soon, gauche, lovelorn Fred is jetting around the world with elegant, refined Charlotte as she promotes an ambitious global environmental agenda, disrupting diplomatic dinners and dodging an insurrection. Somewhere along the way, they tumble into bed and get high, perhaps not in that order. Charlotte even manages to handle an international crisis as their clandestine coupling continues.
“Could you maybe not tell anybody about this?” Fred asks her Secret Service agent.
“They wouldn’t believe me anyway,” he retorts.
Working from Dan Sterling and Liz Hannah’s witty script, director Jonathan Levine (“50/50,” “Snatched”) milks every laugh — from an amorous skirmish with the handsome Canadian Prime Minister (Alexander Skarsgard) to the fatuous “Fox & Friends” newscasters (Kurt Braunohler, Claudia O’Doherty, Paul Scheer)
On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, “Long Shot” is an absurd 7 — escapist fun adult audiences.
As for “The Intruder”: Napa Valley real estate buyers beware: there’s a homicidal maniac on the loose!
A successful, African-American couple, Scott (Michael Ealy) and Annie (Meagan Good) Russell, are eager to fulfill the American dream of owning a rustic home in California’s fabled wine country.
But the cavernous, $3.5 million, ivy-covered cottage they find seems rather remote. “Something tells me Domino’s won’t deliver,” mutters Scott.
It’s a spacious, secluded estate called Foxglove, named for a highly poisonous plant that grows wild in the nearby woods. Since the upwardly mobile millennials are having a hard time with their marriage, they’re hoping this move to suburbia will help mend the rift.
Problem is: the house’s previous owner, gun-toting widower Charlie Peck (Dennis Quaid), is in no hurry to vacate the premises, even though he told them he was moving to Florida to be with his daughter.
When the grass grows too high, Charlie’s there on the riding lawn mower; when the deer invade the garden, he arrives with potting soil; when it’s Christmas, he hangs the lights.
Scott is understandably irate but lonely Annie is sympathetic, perhaps initially enjoying creepy Charlie’s unexpected visits while Scott is busy working in San Francisco.
Do I need to tell you exactly when Dennis Quaid’s scenery-chewing gets so ludicrous that it’s laughable?
Originally titled “Motivated Seller,” the lame, cliché-laden script was written by David Loughery (“Obsessed”) and directed by Deon Taylor (“Traffik”), who unfortunately telegraphs the concluding twist with far too many jump scares.
FYI: It’s ironic that in “Cold Creek Manor” (2003) Dennis Quaid played the hapless husband who bought Stephen Dorff’s old house and is subsequently terrorized by him.
On the Granger Gauge, “The Intruder” is an absurdly contrived 5 — or, as another wag put it, “A real estate thriller whose thrills are mostly in escrow.”
Propelled by powerhouse merchandising, “Ugly Dolls” is a specialty brand that’s attempting to insinuate itself into American popular culture. There are the colorful, fuzzy-felt toys, of course, but also T-shirts, nightgowns, blankets figurines, Pez dispensers, even McDonald’s Happy Meals.
Blandly scripted by Alison Peck and tediously directed by Kelly Asbury, this animated film relies far too much on the dubious appeal of its pop-star voiced animated characters.
Pink, gaptoothed Moxy (Kelly Clarkson) awakens every morning believing that this will be the day she’s adopted and loved by a human child. Her spunk is contagious as she tries to convince her flawed neighbors that a better future lies just ahead.
What Moxy doesn’t know is that she and her friends — Babo (Gabriel Iglesias), Ugly Dog (Pitbull), Wedgehead (Emma Roberts) and Wage (Wanda Sykes) — are factory rejects. Instead of heading to Perfection, they’ve been dumped in Uglyville.
But curious Moxy is determined to venture into the outside world, where the Institute of Perfection’s judgmental guru/crooner Lou (Nick Jonas) forbids stains, smudges and smells, condemning insolent insurgents to the washing machine. “If you want someone to love you, you’ve got to look like me,” he says. “Kids don’t want ugly.”
Eventually, after a rigorous series of tests called “the gauntlet,” Moxy et al learn that nobody’s really perfect and they should value their own individuality. It’s all very formulaic and predictable, lifting inspiration from “Toy Story,” “The LEGO Movie,” “Smurfs,” “Trolls,” etc.
Created in 2001 by David Horvath and his wife, Sun-Min Kim, the first Ugly Dolls popped up in Erik Nokamura’s Japanese toy store Giant Robot in Los Angeles. Soon after, the Horvaths formed Pretty Ugly LLC to manufacture the toys in South Korea.
On the Granger Gauge, “Ugly Dolls” is a preachy, lethargic 3 — a blatant infomercial for plush Hasbro toys.
(Editor’s Note: Westport resident Susan Granger grew up in Hollywood, studied journalism with Pierre Salinger at Mills College, and graduated from the University of Pennsylvania with highest honors in journalism. In addition to writing for newspapers and magazines, she has been on radio/television as an anchorwoman and movie/drama critic for many years. See her reviews at www.susangranger.com.)
