by ANNE MARIE MARKO and SARAH ROWLAND

Rent

Honestly, if someone asked you, “Hey, d’ya wanna go see the Chris Columbus (Home Alone) film adaptation of this smash Broadway musical inspired by Puccini’s opera La Bohème, but set in the late ’80s, about these artistic types on the Lower East Side who are struggling with AIDS, drug addiction, and homelessness, and the bonus is it’s over two hours long and really feels like it,” how quickly would you jump to your feet and respond, “I’m there!”?

Kidding aside, the obvious answer is, “Of course not.” But not so fast, modern day moviegoer. Though Rent is a musical through and through—and to my mind, that’s certainly no selling point—it’s surprisingly good. I was so prepared to hate this movie I was almost disappointed when I didn’t. But not since Jesus Christ Superstar has a musical been so skillfully adapted for the screen without forfeiting the qualities that make it, most definitely, theatre, yet at the same time still benefiting from the magic that only the silver screen can bring. Yes, I know, it seems impossible, but this is a really good picture. And for the record, Rosario Dawson proves there are some powerful lungs beneath that mighty rack of hers. (AMM)

The Ice Harvest

Presumably, this is supposed to be a darkish holiday comedy, but the writing is so weak, it leaves you wondering, “Does John Cusack owe back taxes, or did his manager pull a Leonard Cohen on him and clean out his bank account?” Why else would he be taking parts like this, especially coming off the heels of this year’s poor excuse for a romantic comedy Must Love Dogs. That’s not to say that The Ice Harvest is nearly as embarrassingly bad as that film. It’s just that Cusack delivers most of his lines like he knows what an incredibly mediocre movie he’s in.

Here he plays Charlie, a yellow-bellied mob lawyer, who hooks up with a cutthroat businessman, Vic (Billy Bob Thornton). With Charlie’s brains and Vic’s balls, they hatch a plan to skim from Charlie’s mob boss (Randy Quaid) in a way that will earn them millions and leave plenty of time to get out of town before anyone catches on. All they have to do is get through Christmas Eve without losing it, turning on each other or rousing any suspicion from those closest to them, including Charlie’s former best friend (Oliver Platt), the saucy proprietor of a peeler bar that Charlie frequents (Connie Nielsen) and especially the bossman himself. Of course, they manage to do all of the above in a matter of hours.

Occasionally, Thornton does manage to pump some life into this adaptation of Scott Phillips novel. And Platt even squelches out a few laughs with his over-the-top performance. But Platt, and Thornton doing what he does so naturally, all the time anyway isn’t enough to save The Ice Harvest from a straight-to-video grade. (SR)

Just Friends

Who told Ryan Reynolds that he was funny? In the last two years alone, he’s made several failed attempts at humour (see Waiting and Blade: Trinity). And it’s not just his choice in roles. It’s the fact that in every film, the Vancouver native insists on working that early ’90s Chandler Bing type of sarcasm that lost its charm somewhere around the time Matthew Perry started popping pills.

And Just Friends is more of the same. The “comedy” starts with Reynolds in fat make-up, playing a high school grad who has spent most of his teens trying to build up the courage to tell his best bud (Amy Smart) that he’s in love with her. But, as we find out through a series of fat jokes and slapstick follies, she only likes him like a friend.

Fast-forward 10 years, and Reynolds is a thin, sharp-tongued womanizing record exec. But when he makes a pit stop in his hometown, he finds himself right where he left off, only a few sizes smaller.

Now I’m sure that Reynolds is a really nice guy and all. And who knows, if there’s a sudden resurgence in the kind of humour that Perry perfected before his prescription-drug bloat took hold, then maybe Reynolds’s shtick will have some comedic relevance. Until then, though, it might be worth his while to try flexing his dramatic muscles. (SR)

The Genocide in Me

As the title suggests, The Genocide in Me is not lightweight viewing. Instead, it’s a very personal journey of Montreal filmmaker Araz Artinian as she struggles to better understand her family’s fanatical commitment to preserving their Armenian heritage.

The film, which has been heralded by fellow Armenian/Canadian filmmaker Atom Egoyan, starts out with Artinian describing the pressure she has always felt from her father to stay true to her roots, and never, ever marry outside of her nationality. Though she makes it clear that she is single at the time she was filming, you get the feeling that Artinian is secretly hoping this homage to her people will serve as a get-out-of-marrying-an Armenian card—if she does in fact wind up head-over-heals for a non-Armenian.

But nonetheless, this is a deeply touching look at the emotional scarring that still remains from the 1915 Armenian genocide, especially in light of Turkey’s refusal to accept responsibility for the atrocity that resulted in hundreds of thousands of deaths and millions of exiles.

One of the most powerful segments in the film is the interview clips of ancient survivors, some of whom—despite witnessing the horror of babies being chopped up like sausages—have some beautiful words of wisdom about getting past the hatred.

This painful exploration is so thorough, and done with so much love, that by the end of this micro-budgeted NFB doc, viewers are left with a greater understanding of both her father’s obsession as well as his daughter’s determination to live her life as she chooses. (SR)

The Beautiful Country

Life is not easy for Binh. Fathered by an American soldier, the Vietnamese peasant (Damien Nguyen) is considered “less than dust” in his native land. Add to that his facial deformity, and he is the butt of a lot of verbal abuse. To escape his personal hell, he sets out to find his long-lost Texan father.

Along the way, he endures the inhumane conditions of a refugee camp, falls in love with a Chinese hooker, discovers he has a younger half brother and downs some maggot-infested rice on an ill-equipped human trafficking ocean liner.

As you’ve probably figured out by now, there aren’t a lot of upbeat moments in The Beautiful Country. Watching one person endure so much cruel fate is, after all, a bit of a downer. But what’s even more depressing is the way director Hans Petter Moland detracts from Nguyen’s heartbreaking performance with a melodramatic soundtrack and a few too many slow-mo sequences. These viewer manipulations simply aren’t necessary for a survival story of this magnitude.

On the brighter side, however, Nick Nolte’s surprisingly low-key performance as the deadbeat dad is a nice touch to this otherwise devastating film. (SR)

Just Friends, The Ice Harvest and The Beautiful Country open Friday, Nov. 25. The Genocide in Me opens Saturday, Nov. 26, and Rent is now playing

>> Movie Listings