Movie Review: Footloose

Footloose (2011) 

Directed by Craig Brewer

Written by Craig Brewer, Dean Pitchford

Starring Kenny Wormald, Julianne Hough, Miles Teller, Dennis Quaid

Release Date October 14th, 2011

Published October 14th, 2011

Critics can tend to overthink a movie. In the case of "Footloose," that is a deadly pursuit. "Footloose" does not invite inspection. This candy coated musical is all about putting on a show with pluck and good humor and not about the mechanics of great filmmaking. The only intention behind Footloose is to make a quick buck off of nostalgia and if it happens to not completely stink out loud, that's an unintended bit of good luck. 

Ren McCormick (Kenny Wormald) has moved to Bomont, Tennessee from Boston following the death of his mother. Moving in with his Aunt Lulu (Kim Dickens) and Uncle Wes (Ray McKinnon), Ren finds himself not merely in a new home but seemingly a new planet. Bomont, Tennessee could not be any different from Boston. Foremost among the differences is a ban on public dancing put in place by a local crusading Preacher, Shaw Moore (Dennis Quaid).

The preacher's daughter, Ariel (Julianne Hough) immediately catches Ren's eye, setting up a pair of showdown's for Ren and the preacher as he intends to fight the dance ban and date Shaw Moore's daughter. Credit Dennis Quaid for bringing a seriousness and even gravity to "Footloose" that the movie needs in order to keep from tipping completely into parody. Quaid is so good opposite Hough and Wormald that he makes the novice actors better.

Of course, "Footloose" is not about acting or drama, it's about nostalgia, dancing and a good soundtrack. The soundtrack of "Footloose" is a rather bizarre stew of country, hip hop, and covers of tunes from the original movie. Blake Shelton's cover of Kenny Loggins legendary title track is as rousing and cheesy as the original while Deniece Williams' original "Let's Hear for the Boy" makes a welcome comic appearance in the same context it did in the original "Footloose," as Ren teaches his new pal Willard (Miles Teller) how to dance.

Other call backs to the original movie include a reprise of Quiet Riot's "Metal Health" and a cover of Ann Wilson and Mike Reno's cheeseball ballad "Almost Paradise." These nostalgic touches make clear that director Craig Brewer has as much respect for the original "Footloose" as long time fans do. Brewer even manages to keep Ren's angry dance solo dance in the empty factory. No Kenny Loggins in this version, a rather forgettable hip hop song is in its place, but the heavy cheese dramatics are still there in great, unintentional comic effect.

That's another interesting thing about "Footloose;" the film can be enjoyed on an earnest level or an ironic one. If you are inclined to pick away at the movie you can, and you can have fun doing it, the movie has a certain awareness of its place in the movie world but not so much that it ruins a proper ironic appreciation of it. Bottom line, "Footloose" is just plain fun; a terrifically cheesy pop culture dessert all sugar and calories and nothing remotely good for you. But it tastes so good.

Movie Review: Black Snake Moan

Black Snake Moan (2007) 

Directed by Craig Brewer 

Written by Craig Brewer

Starring Samuel L. Jackson, Christina Ricci, Justin Timberlake

Release Date March 2nd, 2007

Published March 2nd, 2007

Craig Brewer's debut film Hustle and Flow was a sweat soaked tale of redemption as memorable for its musical conceit, southern fried hip hop, as for its dirty south setting. His follow up mines some of the same elements but with a great deal less success. Black Snake Moan is a similarly sweat soaked tale of redemption. Replacing hip hop with some old school blues, Black Snake Moan also has the musical conceit down.

So why does Hustle and Flow succeed and Black Snake Moan fail? High camp. Where Hustle and Flow could be taken seriously, even with it's pimps and ho's, Black Snake Moan is too balls out goofy in it's nympho plus bluesman equals redemption tale.

It's a concept so bizarre it's difficult to describe. A nymphomaniac (Christina Ricci) is depressed over her boyfriend (Justin Timberlake) having left for the military. So, she heads out for a night of hardcore debauchery. The next morning she is found beaten and unconscious on the side of a dirt road not far from the home of a bluesman turned farmer (Samuel L. Jackson).

How that leads to the nympho being chained to the bluesman's radiator is part of the overall kink of Black Snake Moan; another meta southern fantasy from writer-director Craig Brewer whose talent for recreating the southern milieu of mid-seventies southern exploitation films make him either the Quentin Tarentino of the southern drive in or a redneck Roger Corman. It depends on how much you like the story he's telling.

I loved the way he told the story of a pimp becoming a rapper in Hustle and Flow. That movie used the sweat soaked southern setting to put its characters in a pressure cooker environment that imitated the pressure each felt about turning their lives around. At times the pimp game stuff seemed a little too blaxploitation and not enough true story, but for the most part it worked.

Black Snake Moan is almost entirely an exploitation flick. Violent, creepy and yet somehow kind of sexy, Black Snake Moan trains its lecherous camera eye on Christina Ricci's panty and half shirt clad form, with a chain around her waist and milks it for all the kinky exploitation it can wring from such a scenario and not be accused of being porn.

And then the old time religion kicks in and the movie goes off in another goofy direction. Craig Brewer's direction of Black Snake Moan is as assured and evocative as anything he did in Hustle and Flow. The difference comes from the goofball story being told. Hustle and Flow created its own sweat soaked southern reality. Black Snake Moan evokes a Hollywood style southern culture by way of the goofy southern exploitation flicks of the 1970's.

You have to respect the bravery of Ms. Ricci for taking on such a complicated role. Though her performance is an utter disaster, she is at the very least highly committed to the part of a white trash sex fiend. It's a courageous and sexy performance but the character is entirely untenable. She is not necessarily redeemed and her character has little recognizable arc.

Samuel L. Jackson's bluesman is the more interesting and complex character. Surprisingly reserved and uncertain for a Samuel L. Jackson character, Lazarus makes decisions from moment to moment and often out of a quiet rage. That rage erupts rarely but when it does you get just a glimpse of the usual Sam Jackson; badass histrionics. This is a well measured and unique performance for Jackson, the best thing about an otherwise execrable film.

Black Snake Moan is southern fried dopey. Soft core porn on a Hollywood budget and with a much better soundtrack. I had hoped for something with a little more depth from Craig Brewer after his deft, quick witted debut. The filmmaking is strong; it's the storytelling that has suffered. Craig Brewer is too smart and too talented for such a shallow effort as Black Snake Moan.