Movie Reviews: City of Ember, Quarantine, Rocknrolla

 
GO  CITY OF EMBER The struggle at the center of City of Ember, another treat from the maker of Monster House, is one for the good of all mankind. But what were the denizens of this world running from when they first trekked underground? Two hundred years after their mucky netherworld’s inception, the ever-hiccupping generator that keeps the lights on in Ember threatens to go forever kaput. It’s up to Lina Mayfleet (Saoirse Ronan) and Doon Harrow (Harry Treadaway) to decipher the clues left inside a mysterious box and usher their people — like Obama or Moses, take your pick — toward deliverance. Back story and motivation are almost nil here, but director Gil Kenan reveres the abstract tenor of Jeanne DuPrau’s acclaimed children’s book, understanding the postapocalyptic story as an allegory for the determination of humanity against the forces of darkness — whatever or whoever they may be. Its look suggests a twee City of Lost Children, but Kenan isn’t hung up on style alone, equally and voluptuously reveling in artifice and the courageous will of Ronan and Treadaway’s hopeful foot soldiers. The story subtly evokes Rand and scripture, colliding secular and spiritual values, and, as such, appeals to the blue- and red-minded alike. (Citywide) (Ed Gonzalez) 

 
THE EXPRESS The story of Syracuse running back Ernie Davis — the first African-American to win the Heisman Trophy, in 1961, two years before he succumbed to leukemia — is absolutely worthy of a big-screen retelling. Davis, who died before ever playing a down alongside Jim Brown for the Cleveland Browns, has almost become a footnote — an inspirational fairy tale. Based on a Davis biography, Gary Fleder’s account is a noble attempt at humanizing the myth, but it succumbs to the worst sorts of sports-movie clichés: Its smash-mouth football scenes play like Gatorade commercials, and off the field, its characters infuse every casual aside with the dramatic gravitas of History in the Making. To his credit, Rob Brown, first seen in 2000’s Finding Forrester, plays Davis with quiet subtlety (to the point where he almost disappears in some scenes). But Dennis Quaid, as Syracuse’s Ben Schwartzwalder, is stuck with the thankless role of accidental civil rights pioneer — the gruff, color-blind coach who must nonetheless overcome his own ingrained racism and internalized fears. And, like all formulaic biopics, The Express sacrifices the details for the Big Picture — hagiography without the humanity (wait, is that his girlfriend? wife? what?), populated by sorta-enlightened Yankees, rabidly racist Southerners and a ghost who remains as elusive as the running back no defender could catch. (Citywide) (Robert Wilonsky)

City of Ember

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GOOD DICK An unnamed video store clerk (Jason Ritter) falls hard for an unnamed woman (writer-director Marianna Palka) who rents porn and barely notices him. Undeterred, the sweet-natured guy nonchalantly insinuates himself into her life, tracking down where she lives, finding excuses to hang around her building, and eventually wearing her down until she allows him to move in with her. Though she’s not interested in him — frankly, she’s so withdrawn she barely seems interested in anything — he starts behaving as if they’re a couple. In anyone else’s hands, Palka’s antiromantic comedy would be an ironic parody of stalker films, but her insistence on playing the situation straight yields some rewarding emotional results. The characters may be misfits — we learn just how much so, as the film progresses — but the performances are nicely restrained, allowing no actorly preciousness or smug cheap shots at the pair’s expense. Unfortunately, Good Dick is all high-wire act, determinedly thwarting the expectations of its genre but unable to present a wholly successful alternative to romcom conventionality. It feels provocative but inconclusive — brimming with intriguing ideas about love’s dark underbelly but not quite confident enough to pull them off. (Nuart) (Tim Grierson)

 
GO THE LITTLE RED TRUCK A brilliant idea for a documentary, beautifully executed: Director-writer-editor-etc. Rob Whitehair follows some 250 kids, wee to teen, in five cities across the U.S. and Canada as they audition for and star in stage productions spearheaded by the Missoula Children’s Theatre, whose patient, boisterous and demanding directors transform a one-off into a life-altering experience. No surprise that the L.A. kids, staging The Little Mermaid, are the camera-savvy pros with impressive chops. And the ones from faraway Rankin Inlet, Nunavut, Canada — for whom live theater’s a rare and magical thing — are the shyest and slightly stunned. But for most, if not all, of the subjects, the opportunities afforded by the MCT are extraordinary — the chance to find themselves by being someone else, with friends and rivals and siblings for whom plays are no longer play time by film’s end. Most of the kids interviewed talk about how they were troubled or in trouble before they got involved in theater. (Some still are — a few of the kids get the boot when they can’t play well with others.) Good for kids just beginning to express themselves; even better for their parents. Hey, where’s Guffman when you really need him? (Music Hall) (Robert Wilonsky)