Cinesnatch

When we first meet the supposed villain of Kawasaki's Rose (Kawasakiho ruze), he seems like a swell guy. Shortly thereafter, he turns into a real **** going from insensitive to offensively paranoid while the unsympathetic layers begin to pile on as he becomes more loathsome before our eyes. The script is very clear: there is absolutely no reason to like this jerk. We know whom to side with, because the film's morality is simple, especially when we add our subjective viewpoint. But what's black and white becomes grey and messy. And virtue no longer has a face or direction. Blame becomes fruitless and the only real power is the ability to let go. The film starts with an upstanding elderly couple Pavel (Martin Huba) and Jana (Daniela Kolárová) who agree to be part of a reality TV show produced by their son-in-law Ludek (Milan MikulcÃk). Their daughter Lucie (Lenka Vlasáková) has just gone into remission from cancer. From there, things get very complicated and troubling. The cast also includes Petra HrebÃcková (who plays Lucie and Ludeks' daughter Radka) and Anna Simonová (who plays journalist Bára). Three different generations embody pivotal moments in Czechoslovak history. Born during the **** occupation, Pavel, Jana and Borek (the kind faced AntonÃn KratochvÃl) are byproducts of decades of communism. They were freed from one form of fascism only to be taken over by another, never being able to form an identity of their own during their formative years. Born during the time of the Prague Spring, Lucie and Ludek were children of the failed political liberalization in 1968. They began their lives during a brief, bright period of hope, only to have it snuffed out, sentenced to the restrictive existence of their parents. Radka is part of the new age born after the Velvet Revolution that freed the country from communism as well as the dissolution of the nation, having no memory of communism, only growing up around its residual, waning effects. And every one of these generations must confront the same truths in order to move on. As a consequence of what transpires, our willingness to judge is impaired to the point that the person at the source of all of the pain--a smug elderly man named Kafka (perhaps a nod to the bureaucratic themes of the famous author) played by Ladislav ChudÃk--isn't so complicit as he is a casual instigator who maybe pulled a few strings and did a little nudging, but mostly sat back and watched desperate people destroy each other. As deplorable and sinister a character he was, he found himself in a place where he too had to put food on his family's table. Themes deal with seeking redemption out of one's own volition--the only way to correct an imbalance. While making reparations provide a catharsis for a wronged people or person, it's always the individual that must decide what the confession means to them. Yet, here, atonement and absolution are of equal weight on the scales of morality. There is no higher ground, only genuine decisions to confess guilt and accept those pleas. One of the most emotional scenes is between mother and daughter Jana and Lucie. It's both swift and poignant without dwelling on sentiment, which is emblematic of the film as a whole. Director Jan Hrebejk masterfully handles several plot twist in Petr Jarchovský highly charged and eloquent script. For hundreds of years, the Czechs were a people who had always been without their own country, occupied by a domineering outside force, whether it be communism, **** or the Austro-Hungarian empire. Ironically, when we meet sculptor Borek, he's a Czech who makes his life where he seeks fit. He is as proud to be Czech as he is to have Sweden as his residence, because home to him is a concept based on relationship, not a physical location. His fondness for his country is best epitomized when he muses over the fantastical litany of Czech swear words. He insists that bad words don't sound more poetic or cathartic than in the Czech language. It's true. I have yet to find a better language to express how pissed off one is than Czech. It's a dubious, yet distinctive badge Borek wears gladly. The film's title refers to Borek's adopted Japanese son who is also a painter. The rose symbolizes the reconciliation of the past to give oneself a future of peace. One of the common themes of Czech films with a modern setting is identity as it relates to communism. Kolya tackled similar subject matter. Full disclosure, I come from Czech stock and the subject matter of the film hits very close to my heart. While my reaction to the movie was quite visceral and at least partially subjective, I couldn't help but see this movie as a companion piece to the intelligent and well-crafted German film, The Lives of Others. Please read the rest of the review by googling cinesnatch and Kawasaki's Rose ...

Elizabeth Halsey (Diaz) is the World's Worst Teacher. Her goal in life is to mooch off a rich husband and her latest target is new guy Scott Delacorte (Justin Timberlake), a vanilla nerdy virgin who has a fondness for huge breasts. Diaz, down-on-her-luck, living with a roommate, makes it her life's mission to turn her A-cups in double-D's and will find the money at all costs. It's a silly premise, which the filmmakers make no bones about; they're only interest is mining the situation to the audience's delight. Elizabeth is textbook manipulative, and the script is balanced enough to enjoy her dishonesty every step of the way. She's a horrible teacher and person, but the few slaps on the wrist she gets for her behavior are more than enough. And when she's not getting a free pass, her character is tempered with just the right amount of ridicule. My memory may be fuzzy, but in Mary (as unsatisfying to me as Teacher was a pleasure), a type of comedy not dissimilar to her latest, I recall Diaz playing a more reactive role. It was essentially the boys Ben Stiller and Matt Dillon who drove the plot; she was more along for the ride with special gel in her hair to keep the wind from ruining it. Here, she's in the driver's seat. She is comfortable at the wheel and has her foot all the way down on the gas. In her element, she has never been better. She was born to the play this role. The trailer for Teacher set the curve for success high. And like the subsequent previews, the final result lives up to the promise. It's un-PC in all the right ways and doesn't pander to the audience. It has been a while since there has been a Hollywood comedy that has absolute respect for its audience and aware of exactly what it's doing. There aren't any shocking moments it builds to, there's just a heavy dose of acerbic wit consistent throughout the script cowritten by Gene Stupnitsky and Lee Eisenberg (producer/writers for the American version of The Office). There's no fat to be seen, as the venture is premium grade-A steak. Yet, it also has some of the shrewdest editing in a comedy I have seen in a long while. After the ironically homely credits, the story bursts out of the gate and remains full force until the end, and director Jake Kasdan (Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story) keeps things clipping along completely conscious of its absurdity. It has too many jokes to tell; there is no time to dilly-dally. There are a few brief random moments that even work despite themselves. The supporting cast is stellar; they all stand and deliver. Timberlake is fine as the dippy liberal who isn't as progressive as he thinks he is. But the standouts are TV actors from such sitcoms as The Class, How I Met Your Mother and The Office. Lucy Punch's comic chops first came to my attention in Annette Being's period Being Julia. She joined The Class shortly thereafter, but since its premature cancellation, she hasn't had much to chew on other than taking over a role for Nicole Kidman and standing out in the subpar You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger. Here, as over-achieving Amy Squirrel, she plays the foil to Diaz, just as Diaz did to Julia Roberts in Wedding. Besides batting all of her lines out of the park, she improvisationally employs weird facial gestures, conducts a simple, yet stealthy monologue about math with an accent and squeezes into a men's urinal while discussing matters of import. Jason Siegel is downright adorable and makes a great partner for Diaz. Not really a spoiler, they're obviously going to end up together from the get-go and their banter doesn't make it hard to accept. However, the crown for best supporting player has to go to Phyllis Smith as Lynn, Diaz' sidekick. I don't watch The Office and I haven't seen her anywhere else to my knowledge, but it appears she doesn't have the ability to not be funny, whether it's with a look or her uniquely meek voice. The woman is a comic secret weapon and her chemistry with Diaz is phenomenal. With the CBS and NBC networks represented in this movie, ABC isn't left out either, but the actor's presence is such a surprise and so unrecognizable at first, I'm not going to spoil anything. You'll just have to figure it out. Additionally, there's another surprise actor (her name is in the opening credits) who has a small, but delightful role. If you're a fan like I am, my bet is that you'll kick your legs in the air and "love it." Read the rest of the review by googling Cinesnatch Bad Teacher.