THE WATCH: She Married You, Not Your Dead Jizz

The Watch (2012) – Directed by Akiva Schaffer – Starring Ben Stiller, Vince Vaughn, Jonah Hill, Richard Ayoade, Rosemarie DeWitt, Will Forte, Billy Crudup, Mel Rodriguez, R Lee Ermey, Andy Samberg, and Jorma Taccone.

Here’s the problem with THE WATCH: the hierarchy of screen time commanded by the leads is the inverse on the comedy delivered by the leads, which is a fancy way of saying that Ben Stiller gets more screen time/is less funny than Vince Vaughn, who gets more screen time/is less funny than Jonah Hill, who gets more screen time/is less funny than Richard Ayoade.

THE WATCH – originally titled NEIGHBORHOOD WATCH but then changed because George Zimmerman shot Trayvon Martin and 20th Century Fox figured the lesson everyone needed to learn was that Neighborhood Watch programs needed to re-brand themselves lest we think they’re all gun-happy racists – is a frustrating movie. There are parts here that are very funny, but there’s much more that just doesn’t work, and the problem largely falls on the shoulders of the incredibly boring Ben Stiller character, Evan Trautwig, a man who likes to keep starting new clubs to avoid the problems at home.

Which is to say, the problem in his penis.

Which is to say, he fires blanks and is afraid to tell his wife.

It makes sense that Evan would seek to avoid telling his wife and risking her disappointment in him by going off and forming running clubs and Spanish clubs where he gets to hang out with people without ever getting to know them. More importantly, they can’t get to know him and thus become disappointed in him. Since he runs the clubs, people look up to him and he gets to play surrogate daddy to strangers. It’s a good, solid set-up for a character, and when he decides to form a Neighborhood Watch as his latest venture in the wake of a fellow Costco employee’s murder and only three people show up, you can see that maybe the community has finally grown weary of him. The film even wisely sends him wife Abby (Rosemarie DeWitt) out of town at the start of the film, too (he wants to forever stay in Small Town, Ohio and she’s yearning for the excitement of New York City), meaning Evan has time alone to work on his issues.

It’s a good set-up.

Too bad the film does so little with it.

Writing partners Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg were brought in to re-write NEIGHBORHOOD WATCH and they still write like high school kids who amuse themselves infinitely more than they amuse other people. There’s a sloppiness to the consistency of THE WATCH that’s incredibly frustrating, and while I don’t like to give writers too much credit/blame in how a movie turns out because we don’t know what changes between final draft and final cut that they have no control over, there’s enough similarities here that were shared by two other Rogen/Goldberg turkeys (Pineapple Express and Green Hornet) that trends emerge and I feel comfortable pointing a mild finger in their direction.

I had great friends in high school and we spent endless hours being sarcastic assh*les about everything, so Rogen and Goldberg’s origin stories probably have a decent amount in common with my own. My friends and I would play pool, watch movies, cruise Central Street, and generally rip everything to shreds (including – and especially – each other), but the dynamic was always shifting and leadership was always changing hands. (We found ourselves a lot more amusing than outsiders did, too.) The scattered nature of any one given night – let alone any one given week – was perfectly okay because we were living our lives, not living inside of a movie.

We would occasionally write songs, make music videos, and we even wrote a bunch of skits for an Earth Day performance that consisted of us updating Monty Python skits. A bunch of us acted in our high school’s Tournament of Plays, and as we got older we would re-write these staid scripts on the fly, which did not always go over so well with the rest of the cast or the director. Luckily, by senior year, everyone expected it and we ran roughshod over that year’s play. (And we won a bunch of the tournament awards for it, too, though that might have simply been because we were seniors.) The longest project more than one of us ever worked on together was the our class senior video. Two of us were in charge of getting all sorts of clips and assembling them into a long-form documentary. Well, it was long, and it was occasionally funny, but it wasn’t anything more than funny stuff stitched together. We didn’t present a coherent narrative – we just said things in the editing room like, “Let’s do the sports section now,” and “Hey, we’ve got that scene of a cat giving birth. Where should we cut that in?”

For me, that’s what Rogen/Goldberg films do. They careen forward with a basic plot and when something funny happens, they milk that for as long as they can. Then they’ll remember things like dropped subplots and then just shove them in wherever they are. Their films, and especially THE WATCH, do not feel thought out beyond the rudimentary level. They conceptualize good characters but then abuse them for 90 minutes. They go through the trouble of sending Evan’s wife away, but then ten minutes later she’s back. What was the point of her leaving?

Take the opening of the film. We get a narration from Evan about how much he loves his town, the clubs he’s formed, and that he worked his way up the ladder at the local Costco. Our first introduction to the film, then, is Evan loving his town and his community enough he doesn’t want to even go anywhere else tempered with the fact that he’s a bit of a tosser. I mean, the guy keeps forming clubs and he spends twelve years working at Costco and it’s all presented in such a way that the intent is: “You don’t want to be this guy because he’s a social mistake.”

But then when we start seeing him act instead of hearing him talk, he’s also a decent guy, and the shift is jarring – are we supposed to laugh at this loser or empathize with this decent guy? He’s the last man standing at work, and interested in his overnight security guard’s life. When the guard tells him he just passed his citizenship test and shows off his new “Proud to be American” tattoo, Evan lightheartedly tells him, 1. keep the tattoo covered because it’s against Costco policy, and 2. that if a bag of Bugles and six-pace of Coke go missing, it’s on Evan.

He’s a nice guy who likes his rules. When the guard is murdered, he’s genuinely touched by it and calls for a Neighborhood Watch to be formed, but only three guys show up: Bob (Vince Vaughn), who’s looking for a new boy’s club to join; Franklin (Jonah Hill), a would-be cop; and Jamarcus (Richard Ayoade), a recent divorcee who wants to use the Watch to get laid by lonely, thankful housewives. Evan takes everything way too seriously for the other guys, who decide to go to Bob’s house and share a few beers. To them, this is a bit of a laugh, but to Evan this is his new identity. The set-up is that they’re all looking for something new in their lives to fill the gap of what they’re missing, but only Evan doesn’t recognize this in himself.

All of that sounds like a reasonable set-up to me, but the film doesn’t want any of these characters become actual people, and instead goes for boy band casting to give everyone distinct roles. Evan is the uptight one. Bob is the loud one. Franklin is the psychotic one. Jamarcus is the background one. By the end of the film, they’ve changed – Evan un-clenches, Bob quiets down, Franklin normalizes, and Jamarcus reveals himself to be an alien spy – but not via any meaningful arcs. The film is much more interested in endlessly telling us that the green, alien slime feels like cum, or having Franklin made odd, clumsy passes at Evan’s wife, than doing much with the characters.

And you can say that this is just a comedy and you’d be right. Maybe if this comedy was actually funny, I wouldn’t be going on about the narrative arcs, but it isn’t funny enough. Part of the blame for that comes in the decision of director Akiva Schaffer (who directed the mind-numbingly stupid and unfunny Hot Rod) to limit the actors, too. I’m pretty sure all of these actors were hired just to parody themselves, so there’s never a sense that THE WATCH is anything but a derivative of something else.

In my head, I like to imagine Hill and Ayoade sitting at the back of a set, watching Stiller and Vaughn do their tired, old shtick. Ayoade turns to Hill and says, “Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen to us,” and Hill replies, “Why do you think I did Moneyball? Do you realize that I had to give up a role in the new Tarrantino movie because I committed to this piece of sh*t?”

As an actor, Hill has moved beyond a film like THE WATCH, and not just because he can now be hired for films like Moneyball and Django Unchained (he eventually got a smaller role in the film). He showed with 21 Jump Street (which he co-wrote), that he knows how to make a really smart dumb movie. That movie shows some actual skill, while THE WATCH just flops around for 90 minutes.

It’s too bad because I love that idea of these strangers finding what they’re missing in each other, and the film’s best moment comes when Bob and Evan have a heart-to-heart where their flaws start to become topics of discussion. Bob opens up and tells Evan that he’s having a hard time at home – his wife travels and that means he has to do more of the parenting with their teenage daughter. Bob’s parenting skills involve Facebook stalking, saying No, and yelling. Evan reveals he has no kids and that his equipment doesn’t work. Bob is all over him for his safe language, telling him to loosen up, that they’re just too guys shooting the sh*t. It’s a really clever moment, demonstrating the cultural role foul language can play for guys, as it symbolizes a safe zone where guys can be guys, and-

Wait, I’m sorry. I mean to say, “Touch the slime. It really feels like cum.”

Evan finally lets it out that he hasn’t told Abby he can’t get her pregnant because he feels he’ll be letting her down. Bob lights in to him, telling him what a dummy he is and exclaiming, in the movie’s best line, “She married you, not your dead jizz!”

That scene is also the saddest scene in the movie because it shows that Vaughn, at least, can do so much more than parody himself. He can be a funny guy in funny movie that has an arc. While he’s not as funny here as he once was, it’s the relationship he has with his daughter that gives him his best moments. And when those moments begin influencing his relationship with Evan, all I could think was that we’d have been infinitely better off if Vaughn’s character was the lead and Stiller’s played second fiddle.

I laughed here and there, so I don’t mean to give the impression that this movie is a complete waste of time. My lasting impression of this film, however, is that the focus on Serious Evan drags the film down. THE WATCH is continually fighting with itself. It’s not smart, it’s not clever, it’s not insightful, it’s just an excuse for actors to come in and do shtick under the guise of an alien invasion comedy.

All that stuff about loving one’s community that Evan yaps about at the start? It’s completely absent from the film. You might expect community to be at the heart of the film, but no one here knows each other, and the actual town never becomes a character in the film. We’re told this is small town, Ohio, but it could be any nameless, faceless town anywhere because it’s not a real town, at all. It’s a Hollywood town where everyone lives in really nice houses and nobody knows your name. It’s a town where when the top cop (Will Forte) goes on TV and says that there’s only eight cops in the whole town, I was sorta expecting that to be true. I was expecting a really small town, but Glenview isn’t a small town because later when we see the police station it seems like there’s eight cops in there and on duty, even though it’s late at night. And then when the Watch realizes an alien invasion is coming, they make a point of saying they need to rally people, but there’s no rally, at all. The actual community here that they’re watching is simply a weird neighbor (Bill Crudup), a dickish cop, R. Lee Ermey, and some egg-throwing kids, and only the dickish cop and Evan’s wife play any role in the final battle.

THE WATCH is occasionally funny, mostly dumb, and lacks any real skill from anyone involved.

21 JUMP STREET: Embrace Your Stereotypes

21 Jump Street (2012) – Directed by Phil Lord and Chris Miller – Starring Jonah Hill, Channing Tatum, Brie Larson, Dave Franco, Ellie Kemper, Rob Riggle, Ice Cube, Nick Offerman, Peter DeLuise, Holly Robinson Peete, and Johnny Depp.

There’s a lot going against 21 JUMP STREET – it stars Jonah Hill (who I honestly think I’d rather see doing quirky dramas like Moneyball instead of silly comedies) and Channing Tatum (who I never remember being intentionally funny before) in a comedic update of a TV show from the ’80s. Making things tougher on the film (though none of this is JUMP STREET’s fault), I was watching it in an old, semi-crowded theater on a crappy print. (It was the 10 PM show at the $3 casino cinema.) I’d heard good things about it, but I didn’t have high expectations.

Five minutes in, I was hooked.

21 JUMP STREET is an incredibly funny movie that does a smart thing – it tells a simple story very effectively, building most of the plot elements around the triangulation of Schmidt and Jenko’s job as police officers, the high school location of the their undercover investigation, and Schmidt and Jenko’s insecurities.

Let me say that again in case you skimmed over it – 21 JUMP STREET is an incredibly funny movie, and I come away from this film as impressed with Jonah Hill as I did after Moneyball. Hill co-wrote JUMP STREET with Michael Bacall (who also co-wrote the excellent Scott Pilgrim vs. the World) and they keep their script focused and driven, making the humor serve the story instead of simply stringing together a bunch of funny bits. Hill also wisely casts himself in the straighter role, allowing Tatum to handle more of the outrageous comedy.

Hill and Tatum make an interesting duo – they have the typical cinematic tall guy and fat guy bit look down, but unlike Laurel and Hardy, Abbott and Costello, Spade and Farley, Hill and Tatum largely invert the stereotype, with the fat one being the practical one and the skinny one being the dummy. (And, yeah, I hate to use such base terms and paint with such a broad brush, but this is a pretty standard comedic configuration.) It works, too, because Hill is very good at playing a the put-upon guy who’s personal pain serves as the basis for the film’s comedic debasement of him, and Tatum is very good as the popular guy who’s used to doing the debasing.

Schmidt and Jenko (Hill and Tatum) went to high school together, but were on opposite sides of the cool line. Neither one of them got to go to the prom – Schmidt because no one would go with him and Jenko because his poor grades got him barred.

Years later, they unwittingly enroll in the police academy at the same. “Hey, Not-So-Slim Shady!” Jenko calls out, a reference to Schmidt’s Eminem-inspired look in high school. Very quickly, they realize they can help each other since Schmidt isn’t so good with the physical (being overweight) and Jenko isn’t so good with the tests (being dumb). Before we know it, they’ve both passed the Academy and been made partners.

Impressively, JUMP STREET moves through all of this set-up efficiently. The two guys are bike cops and they screw up a bust and they get kicked over into the Jump Street program, where they meet Captain Dickson (Ice Cube) at an abandoned church that serves as the program’s headquarters. Dickson sends them back to high school, but because Jenko can’t remember his cover identity, he ends up having to live as the science nerd and Schmidt gets enrolled in drama. It’s another smart twist, having these two guys live high school over, but this time from the other’s point of view.

Not only is the script smart, but the casting and acting is top notch. Ice Cube totally embraces the “angry black captain” stereotype, and Hill and Bacall’s script uses these stereotypes to its benefit, having Dickson address them directly. “Yeah, I’m black!” he shouts at them from the pulpit. “I worked hard to get where I am, and yes, sometimes I get angry!” After dressing Schmidt and Jenko down over their types, he tells them to “embrace your stereotypes!”

Which they then almost immediately screw up and have to live life as the other one.

There’s plenty of stupid humor here – the guys end up getting tricked into using drugs, they purposely throw a huge party at Schmidt’s parent’s house, the bad guy ends up getting his dick blown off, which he then tries to pick up with his mouth – but there’s also clever humor, too, like when Schmidt starts hitting on a high school girl (they make a point to tell you she’s 18), but does it anachronistically, calling her instead of texting her.

In a move the film didn’t have to make, but did, 21 JUMP STREET is set in the same continuity as the TV show – it’s just 25 years later and everything’s seen through a comedic lens. Johnny Depp, Peter DeLuise, and Holly Robinson Peete all return to reprise their roles from the TV show, and it’s a nice touch that probably 90% of the people in the theater completely missed. Maybe they knew Depp used to be in the show, but it’s not like DeLuise and Peete’s involvement got the crowd hootering and hollering in approval. Even “Jenko” is a shout-out to the original captain of the Jump Street program, who only lasted

JUMP STREET was directed by Phil Lord and Chris Miller, the directing duo who made the excellent Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, and they display a wonderful gift for balancing the comedic with the dramatic.

I saw 21 JUMP STREET Saturday night and then went to a different theater to see Men in Black 3 on Monday (review coming shortly), and it’s not even close as to which was the better movie. I laughed more times and with greater intensity in the first 15-20 minutes of JUMP STREET than I did in the entire length of MIB3. At the end of JUMP STREET, they tease a set-up for a sequel where Schmidt and Jenko go to college, and I’m honestly looking forward to seeing it.

MONEYBALL: I Want It to Mean Something

Moneyball (2011) – Directed by Bennett Miller – Starring Brad Pitt, Jonah Hill, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Kerris Dorsey, Chris Pratt, Stephen Bishop, Robin Wright, and Spike Jonze.

I understand that Brad Pitt has 94 kids and is married to Angelina Jolie, who people keep insisting is the hottest woman ever despite my objections, so I can understand him not wanting to leave the house and spend weeks or months shooting movies. I mean, acting is what he does, but the guy must have enough money squirreled away so that none of his descendants would have to work for at least a couple generations. If he woke up one morning and decided to pull a Brando, buy an island, get humongously fat, and only return to TV to make out with Larry King’s corpse, I would totally respect that.

But I’m glad he hasn’t.

There are still people out there who like to cling to the notion that our movie stars aren’t good actors. Perhaps we can blame this on the 1990s, when the Schwarzeneggers and Stallones took over the box office, but I think we’re living in a pretty fantastic age of acting stars. Or star actors. Many of our biggest stars are also damn fine actors, and Brad Pitt is one of them.

All of this is to say that he’s pretty fantastic in MONEYBALL, Bennett Miller’s 2011 film based on Michael Lewis’ 2003 book about baseball and economics. Pitt plays Billy Beane, the Oakland A’s General Manager (for those not versed in baseball, the GM is the man responsible for putting the team together) who’s trying a new method of assembling his team. The film opens at the end of the 2001 season, with the A’s being defeated in the playoffs by the New York Yankees. It’s a story of the Little Engine That Almost Could, as the A’s were at the low end of baseball’s economic ladder and the Yankees were at the very top. Losing is bad enough, but the A’s became symbolic of the systematic flaw (or “flaw,” if you’re so inclined) in baseball’s economic model – rich teams prosper at the expense of poor teams. The A’s lose three of their biggest stars that off-season to big market clubs: Jason Giambi signs with the Yankees, Johnny Damon signs with the Red Sox, and Jason Isringhausen moves on to the St. Louis Cardinals.

It’s a bit of bad luck that all three players were entering the final year of their contracts, but that’s baseball. With their key components moving on, the A’s are stuck with the classic quandary of what to do to replace them, and the solution that Beane and Peter Brand (Jonah Hill – playing a character based on Paul DePodesta) come up with is the golden idea that turned baseball on its head: Moneyball.

The idea behind Moneyball was to find players undervalued by the market, allowing Oakland to sign them on the (relative) cheap. They began to value players who got on base and who threw strikes. It was a non-traditional approach to our most traditional sport, and Beane’s idea to rely on the numbers-driven, Yale-educated economist caused all sorts of baseball traditionalists to have their brains melted.

The worst of the baseball traditionalists are the sort of folks who want everything to be like it was in 1935 – you know, whites on top, blacks excluded, everyone else a non-issue. They cling so desperately to their precious notion of what the game “should be” that they turn a blind eye to progress, and a whitewash the game’s early days in such a hazy nostalgic glow that they forget many of these early stars were awful, horrible, racist assh*les. The traditionalists are often completely entrenched in the past, holding up baseball like some grand symbol of Americana that they refuse to acknowledge that the world is changing around them, and that, for the good of the sport, they occasionally need to change with it. Traditionalist mouthpieces have fought everything from the racial integration of the game in the 1940s, the elimination of the reserve clause, the advent of free agency, the creation of the Designated Hitter in the 1970s, the addition of the Wild Card in the 1990s … everything. So Beane’s idea to be the first GM to jump on the Sabremetric wave ruffled all the fundamentalist feathers.

MONEYBALL the movie presents Beane as a man at his wit’s end, angered at the economic state of the game and desperate to try something new. He visits the Cleveland Indians’ offices to try and work a deal and he’s intrigued by the chubby, quiet guy in the back of the room, so on his way out he stops by the guy’s desk and plugs him for information. Peter Brand is a numbers guy, focusing on a player’s .OBP, or On Base Percentage, which quantifies the number of times a player gets on base versus his plate appearances. (Basically, it’s Hits + Walks + Hit By Pitch over At Bats + Walks + Hit By Pitch + Sacrifice Flies.) Beane is taken with Brand’s approach because it’s different and it can save him money.

While Beane is the center of the film, it’s really Brand’s ideas that propel the plot forward. Beane is cast as the guy sitting between the newfangled ideas and the traditional ways of doing things. Because he’s the boss, Beane takes all the heat – from his owner, from his scouts, from the public, and from the baseball cognoscenti. What’s striking is that Beane has to be taught this new system by Brand, which means he suffers from all kinds of doubt when the A’s start the season off rather terribly.

Which leads us to the villain of the piece – the A’s manager, Art Howe (Philip Seymour Hoffman). Beane puts the team together but Howe is the guy that puts the team on the field, and he refuses to put the team on the field that Beane and Brand wants. At the center of contention is Scott Hatteberg, a catcher with a shot elbow that Beane signs to play first base.

No one but Beane and Brand think this is a good idea, including Hatteberg. On the surface, it’s a ludicrous idea to bring in Hatteberg to replace Jason Giambi, but Beane/Brand aren’t trying to replace Giambi with one guy but three. The scouts throw a fit at this and Beane pushes right back, totally emboldened by this idea.

There’s a subplot here, too, on how Beane was the wet dream of this traditional thinking back in the day. When Beane was a high school player he was a “five tool” player, meaning he could do anything and everything scouts look for in a player. Beane’s career fizzled out and the head scout tries to play this as the reason Beane is making this shift. It’s a stretch because baseball is just too random, but it makes a nice point of contention.

Pitt is wonderful as a guy trying to find something to believe in, but while he’s great with the baseball folks, he’s even better with his daughter (Kerris Dorsey). Beane’s divorced and shares custody with his wife (Robin Wright) and her new husband (Spike Jonze), but the wife and new husband are almost insignificant, except to give us another scene to show Beane uncomfortable. The scenes with Beane and his daughter are just awesome, though. Pitt is great with Dorsey, encouraging her interest in music and trying to protect her from the realities of his job. Dorsey is equally fantastic with Pitt; it’s always nice to see smart kids in movies, and this is one of them. She knows more about the precarious nature of her dad’s situation than he wants to let on.

With the A’s spiraling and Howe refusing to buy into Beane’s system, Beane hits his lowest point – is he all in or not?

Well, as you can imagine, he’s all in, or else we wouldn’t have a movie.

Beane trades away some pieces that have been preventing his ideal line-up to take the field, and thus Howe is forced to start playing Beane and Brand’s guys. The results are, literally, historic. The A’s start winning, eventually running off a 20-game winning streak. It’s important there’s this win streak, because the cruelty of the season sees the A’s bowing out of the playoffs, yet again, robbing us of that traditional sports movie ending.

And that’s what makes MONEYBALL such an interesting watch – it’s a baseball movie and so we have to have some of the traditional ticks in here, but it’s really a movie about the intersection of belief and science; it’s a movie about the old way of doing things versus a new way of doing things and just how scared people are at trying something radically different. Beane becomes a True Believer in this new system; as he tells Brand after the A’s fall to the Twins in the playoffs, “I want it to mean something.” He also can’t completely let go of the past, though, remarking at one point about the romantic nature of baseball.

In one of my favorite scenes of the movie, Beane is brought to Boston to talk to John Henry, the new owner of the Red Sox, about becoming the Red Sox new GM. The Sox are a big market club, but John Henry is intrigued about Beane’s methods enough to want to make him the highest paid GM in history to run his club. Henry is this wonderful combination of ultimate nerd and ultimate rebel, wanting to stick it to this entrenched system on principle as much as anything else.

Beane stays in Oakland by some mix of romanticism and stubbornness and desire to stay close to his daughter, and two years after he turns Henry down, the Red Sox win the World Series with his and Brand’s methods. The movie’s credits roll with Beane’s daughter singing a song, and cutely/cruelly singing, “You’re a loser, dad. You’re a loser, dad.”

MONEYBALL is a very good movie, and Pitt, Hill, and Dorsey are all great. I don’t think Hoffman has ever done less to get a paycheck, as basically all he has to do is look grumpy, fold his arms, and scowl, but he does it well. It’s one of the more unique baseball movies, because it’s as much an economic movie, as much a changing-of-the-guard movie, as it is a baseball flick. The film certainly resonates with those of us who think we need new ways of doing old things because the old ways have led us down a road we’d rather not be traveling. Bennett Miller does a really good job putting this story together, which is impressive considering Pitt seems to spend about 1/3 of the movie sitting in his truck. I won’t go so far as to say this is the best baseball movie I’ve ever seen, but it is a highly watchable, surprisingly funny movie, and you certainly do not need to be a baseball fan to enjoy it.