An occasional sounding board wherein I'll hopefully shed a little light on popular movies with unsettling premises or stories.
Dave
I was folding laundry and watching Dave last night when it hit me like never before that this is a comedy about a coup d'etat, a lighthearted romp about replacing the president and dismantling the system of checks and balances to consolidate the power into one man. Kevin Kline stars as Dave, who's hired to stand in for President Bill Mitchell (also Kline), who's in a coma after suffering a stroke while having sex with one of his secretaries, played by a young and energetic Laura Linney.
The First Lady is played by Sigourney Weaver, who eventually discovers Dave is a fake and has no problem with it. She even winds up coming back to him at the end, after her husband dies, though why she thinks she can make it work with a guy who looks exactly like her adulterous former spouse is beyond me.
The film is set in the 1990s, but Dave doesn't do a single thing regarding foreign policy. I understand that this is an alternate reality where presidents play with puppies and no one seems to want to nuke each other, but still, it's a little farfetched to think that Dave could assume the duties of the Oval Office and not have to deal with a single terrorist action or rogue Soviet satellite (the film came out in 1993).
Anyway, it's still a cute, harmless movie, and I find myself unable to change the channel whenever he balances the budget at a Cabinet meeting to save that pesky old homeless shelter, though maybe it's just the sight of a president who can do high-school-level multiplication that's so compelling.
Verdict: Enjoyable, but so idealistic it makes Aaron Sorkin look like Stephen Gaghan.
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Los Angeles, California I'm a twentysomething white male with ambitions to be a professional film critic and generally spend my days getting paid to watch movies and write about it. I try not to think too hard about how I want to build my life around talking about other people's creations and not mine. A compulsive reader and stubborn cineaste, I take an often contrary stance to my more fundamentalist peers and upbringing by celebrating the pursuit of the good, and the Good, in life, love, art and film. If you watched enough episodes of a few TV shows ("The Hungry and the Hunted," "The Cut Man Cometh," "The Body," "Waiting in the Wings," "Out of Gas," "April is the Cruelest Month," "20 Hours in America," "Colonial Day" for starters), you would understand me completely, and you'd also realize that much of my worldview and philosophical insights are heavily influenced by fictional works/programs, and many of the good things I've said in my life are just a regurgitation of someone else's imaginings. I guess I was made to be a film critic. This Month
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Thursday, April 27
by
Dan Carlson
on Thu 27 Apr 2006 04:55 PM PDT
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Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?
O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again. — Look Homeward, Angel, Thomas Wolfe Conservatives are not necessarily stupid, but most stupid people are conservatives. — John Stuart Mill We are all under the same mental calamity; we have all forgotten our names. We have all forgotten what we really are. All that we call common sense and rationality and practicality and positivism only means that for certain dead levels of our life we forget that we have forgotten. All that we call spirit and art and ecstasy only means that for one awful instant we remember that we forget. — G.K. Chesterton We were, for the briefest of moments, something greater than the sum of our uncertain parts; we were youth itself, in all its painful glory and sharp joy. — August Van Zorn There is a time in the lives of most writers when they are vulnerable, when the vivid dreams and ambitions of childhood seem to pale in the harsh sunlight of what we call the real world. In short, there's a time when things can go either way. — Stephen King Los Angeles, give me some of you! Los Angeles come to me the way I came to you, my feet over your streets, you pretty town I loved you so much, you sad flower in the sand, you pretty town. — Ask the Dust, John Fante |
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