At first glance, the formidable cast of Main Street appears to have gathered for a chance to work off the final original script from Horton Foote, the Pulitzered playwright and two-time Oscar-winning screenwriter (for 1962’s To Kill a Mockingbird and 1983’s Tender Mercies) who passed away in 2009. But as the film creeps along with few signs of life, one begins to suspect the real reason they’re all there is to show off that most treasured item in any actor’s toolkit — the Southern accent. Main Streetis an ensemble drama that functions as a display case for a range of regional drawls, from the authentic to absurd. Patricia Clarkson, playing Willa, a divorcee who’s returned to her hometown of Durham, North Carolina, easily walks away with best in show, but coming from Louisiana she’s in slightly more familiar territory than Colin Firth, who, as Gus Leroy, a representative of a toxic waste management company, is a sorely unconvincing Texan.

That toxic waste is hazardous, but it also represents a possible salvation for Durham, standing in here for every American town being hollowed out by changes in the industry on which it used to depend. Durham’s tobacco heyday is gone, and Willa’s aging aunt Georgiana Carr (Ellen Burstyn), a silly Southern belle living alone in the grand house in which she grew up, but that she can no longer afford to maintain, rents out her unused tobacco warehouse to Gus without bothering to hear what he intends to use it for. When she’s told, she frets, and enlists Willa’s help in negotiating her way out of the agreement, despite having already spent most of the money, while Gus woos the city council (headed by Isiah Whitlock Jr. as the mayor) with promises of jobs and a much-needed injection of cash. Elsewhere, young Mary (Amber Tamblyn) considers leaving town and dates an older man (Andrew McCarthy), as her ex Harris (Orlando Bloom, wielding a pencil moustache) pines and the pair’s parents look on in distress.

Main Street shoots for a sprawling, John Saylesian portrait of a community, but beyond just being dramatically inert — you can only pick out the climax after the fact — its characters also seems curiously disconnected from each other and from the physical location in which they’re supposed to live. In reality, Durham has over 200,000 residents, but it comes across as so depopulated in the film that number seem more like 200. John Doyle, a theater director making his film debut here, compounds the sitcom-like feeling that everything’s being shot on sound stages in Los Angeles by using few exterior shots, other than bookend montages of the city from its past and slightly dilapidated present. Despite its title, Main Street primarily plays out in living rooms and kitchens, as Georgiana bemoans her family’s decline, as Harris’s mother (Margo Martindale) worries her son’s exhausting himself in night school, as Gus and Willa start a cautious flirtation.

The issue of crumbling municipalities whose hope for the future is fleeing with their younger generation, and who are placed in a weakened position in negotiating with businesses they might have turned away in a more stable time, is a knotty one with plenty of narrative potential. A July episode ofThis American Life exploring the PR battles that took place when a natural gas company looked into leasing land for drilling near a small Pennsylvania town contained enough fodder for a season of cable TV (though Lord knows how you’d pitch it). Main Street’s approach is disappointingly simplistic and sanctimonious — the bargain being offered by Gus’s company is strictly Faustian. The waste being stored in that rented warehouse in lines of canisters Gus swears meet every safety standard is described dramatically by Willa as “death,” and a perfectly timed accident and a character’s change of heart each suggest she’s right.

If Main Street offers any sort of story, it’s one of a city briefly tangling with a predatory business, but managing to get away intact, while its representative new generation comes close to heading to Atlanta for new opportunities, but in the end decides to stay. So why does the film leave you feeling so sympathetic to a toxic waste company? Given the lack of other prospects left for this highly theatrical version of Durham, the hopeful lilt of the ending rings not just false but foolish, like the dithering Georgiana in her beautiful, empty house, monologuing about how splendid the old days were. One longs for someone to tell her, sure — back then you were rich. It’s when you no longer have power and resources on your side that you have to face difficult decisions, a fact Main Street dodges, and really needed to have taken on.

 

 

There’s a moment at the end of Gavin O’Connor’s MMA drama Warrior in which two men who have been relentlessly beaten and pummeled in the octagon stand dripping with exhaustion, rivers of sweat mingling with the tears running down their faces. It doesn’t matter that you can’t tell the sweat from the tears; that’s partly the point of Warrior anyway, which makes you feel every emotional wound just as acutely, if not more so, than the bruising, rib-crunching body blows. Yes, this is a mixed martial arts movie (distributed by genre specialists Lionsgate, no less). But it’s also one of the most heart-wrenching and deeply felt films of the year.

That’s not to say Warrior falls all the way into the tried-and-true-and-overdone terrain of “inspirational sports movie,” although it does wade through its fair share of genre clichés and calculatedly affecting storytelling tropes. It’s Rocky redux in a sense, an underdog fighting tale set against the backdrop of working-class America.

The key difference is, in Warrior there are two Rockys. Brendan Conlon (Aussie Joel Edgerton) is a high school physics teacher in Philadelphia struggling to keep a roof over the heads of his wife (Jennifer Morrison, in an exquisitely balanced supporting turn) and their two young daughters following a mortgage-draining medical crisis. When bouncing on the side doesn’t quite bring in enough cash to keep them afloat, Brendan goes back to the pre-teaching gig that pays well but risks doing damage, both physical and marital: Arena fighting at the local strip club.

Meanwhile, over in Brendan’s hometown of Pittsburgh, his estranged father, ex-alcoholic and formerly abusive wrestling coach Paddy Conlon (Nick Nolte), comes home from a 12-step meeting to find his long lost other son Tommy (Tom Hardy) on his stoop. Tommy’s more of an enigma, to his father and to the viewer; self-destructive, closed-off, and bitter over a past family rift that goes unspoken, he’s running from something he won’t share with anyone. A chance opportunity at the local gym gives Tommy the break he’s been looking for — entry into an internationally-televised mixed martial arts tournament called Sparta, with a $5 million cash prize to the last man standing.

And so we launch headlong into the road to Sparta, following both Conlon boys as they wallop and wrestle their way toward the championship, and — of course — toward the inevitable brotherly showdown in the ring. Their shared history, gathered in snatches of pained conversation over the course of the film, explains why a rift remains between them and their reformed, lonely father — and also why it’s so damn hard for these men to forgive the wrongs of the past, as remembered differently by each through the haze of memory and hurt. Paddy, at least, has come the farthest from that tumultuous family history, but then he’s also the cause of it all. The realization consumes him, reflected in his obsessive reliance on an on-the-nose but fitting book-on-tape cassette of Moby Dick.

But despite Paddy’s efforts at reconciliation (and a heartbreaking scene in which Nolte’s Paddy, rejected for the umpteenth time by Hardy’s Tommy, falls off the wagon in the most devastating way — just one of Warrior’s surprising, award-worthy moments), this is Brendan and Tommy’s story. One’s lithe and composed, strategic, a family man; the other brawny and explosive, driven by pain, a loner — two sides of man and masculinity, deep readers might note, struggling to reconcile against all odds.

 

Blackwood Manor has new tenants. While architect Alex Hurst (Guy Pearce) and his new girlfriend Kim (Katie Holmes) restore their Gothic mansion’s period interiors,

 

This holiday season, acclaimed filmmaker Cameron Crowe (Jerry Maguire, Almost Famous) directs an amazing and true story about a single dad who decides his family needs a fresh start, so he and his two children move to the most unlikely of places: a zoo. With the help of an eclectic staff, and with many misadventures along the way, the family works to return the dilapidated zoo to its former wonder and glory.

 

Based on the debut novel by Hunter S. Thompson, The Rum Diary tells the increasingly unhinged story of itinerant journalist Paul Kemp (Johnny Depp). Tiring of the noise and madness of New York and the crushing conventions of late Eisenhower-era America, Kemp travels to the pristine island of Puerto Rico to write for a local newspaper, The San Juan Star, run by downtrodden editor Lotterman (Richard Jenkins).

 

 

Exclusive red band clip for the documentary Shut Up Little Man! An Audio Misadventure. Mitch explains the first recording of Pete and Raymond.

 

 

In The Double, the mysterious murder of a US senator bearing the distinctive trademark of the legendary Soviet assassin “Cassius,” forces Paul Shepherdson (Richard Gere), a retired CIA operative, to team with rookie FBI agent, Ben Geary (Topher Grace), to solve the crime. Having spent his career chasing Cassius, Shepherdson is convinced his nemesis is long dead, but is pushed to take on the case by his former supervisor.

 

Bella and Edward, plus those they love, must deal with the chain of consequences brought on by a marriage, honeymoon, and the tumultuous birth of a child… which brings an unforeseen and shocking development for Jacob Black.

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