Now Showing: The Mexican & When Brenden Met Trudy

Now Showing
Candid Reviews of Movies Just Hitting The Big Screen

by Cole Smithey

The Mexican

A fancy overvalued handmade pistol known as ‘the Mexican’ is the dangling carrot that mob lackey, Jerry (Brad Pitt) and a handful of mobsters chase down in The Mexican. Samantha (Julia Roberts) is Jerry’s annoying psychobabbling girlfriend, who has the good fortune of being kidnapped by a teddy bear of a mobster named Leroy (James Gandolfini – “The Sopranos”). Once ‘Sam’ discovers Leroy’s thinly concealed homosexuality, the movie turns into more of a comment on the compatible company that psychobabbling American chicks could choose over having relationships with well-meaning straight guys. Needless to say, there isn’t one iota of chemistry (screen or otherwise) to be had in the long-awaited screen union of Brad Pitt and Julia Roberts. Most confounding is the “20 million dollar” price tag for Julia Robert’s phoned-in performance that drags on the movie like block of concrete.

After a drawn out argument over leaving Los Angeles for Las Vegas, Jerry and Samantha break up so Jerry can save his skin by going to Mexico to retrieve the ‘Mexican.’ Meanwhile Sam takes off for Vegas to follow her dream of becoming a waitress and a croupier. Sam barley goes to the bathroom before she’s kidnapped twice by rival mobsters. Leroy wins the kidnapper title by shooting his opponent, who as must needs, returns later in the story to wreak disaster on Leroy’s shot at true love with a postal clerk. While Jerry does twisting frustration dances in Mexico between finding and losing the precious pistol and his rented El Camino, another mobster is sent south of the border to put the finishing touches on Jerry’s problems. Not the least of which is Jerry’s, and the filmmakers,’ misunderstanding about needing a passport to drive across the U.S. border.

It might seem that James Gandolfini ‘steals’ the movie because of a few humorous scenes of character revelation he plays with Samantha. It’s not that Gandolfini is doing anything special in the acting department, but rather a result of his having the most developed character in the script. Add to this Gandolfini’s acting prowess over Roberts and what’s left is a character more interesting than the ‘maguffin’ pistol that the plot revolves around.

There are three different mythic versions of the ‘Mexican’s’ curse that reveal, in sepia tone, a spaghetti western history for the pistol. Each story is set in the same Mexican village square and has an effect of giving the movie a lively glimpse into another story that would have been more entertaining than the movie you’re watching. Commercial director Gore Verbinski (Mouse Hunt) shows his mastery over the 60-second structure with these old timey stories-within-the story. But upstart screenwriter J.H. Wyman (Pale Saints) proves equally ill-equipped at creating narrative momentum for any longer than it takes to brush your teeth.

The Mexican is a ‘good dog’ movie where even Jerry’s newfound frothing-at-the-mouth canine gets wasted screen time being figuratively patted on the head. It’s a movie that feels like it was made by a fourth-year film student by reshooting clips from a bunch of different movies, albeit with an expensive Hollywood cast and crew, before editing together two hours of rubbish. Brad Pitt’s repetitive wardrobe of color-changing short-sleeve T-shirts worn over long-sleeved T-shirts is, alone, enough to say this movie has the cinematic sophistication of an ‘Alpo’ commercial. Even an ‘Alpo’ commercial is better because we can’t help but commiserate with a hungry dog being fed.

Hollywood’s latest affair with genre mashed movies like Nurse Betty and Play it to the Bone exemplify a confusion over what constitutes comedy, irony, and violence. While The Mexican has a modicum of all three elements, it seems to ere on the side of comedy or lack thereof. To quote Mr. Elvis Costello: “It’s a dangerous game that comedy plays, sometimes it tells you the truth, sometimes it delays it.” It looks like it will be a while before Hollywood sees past its nose on this kind of cinematic bauble.

When Brenden Met Trudy

Debut director Kieron Walsh fleshes out screenwriter Roddy Doyle’s love letter to Dublin and classic films with an ear for wit and an eye for the upward spiral of romantic desire. When Brenden Met Trudy confidently relies on the power of its characters’ slanted perceptions to convey the impetus behind their comic choices. Brenden (Peter McDonald - Felicia’s Journey) is a lonely school teacher and a movie buff who pours his passion into singing for a local church choir. When Brenden silences pub patrons by singing “Panis Angelicus” for Trudy (Flora Montgomery), on their first encounter, his sonorous voice hooks everyone in the room. But Brenden’s great baritone can’t rescue him from fits of movie-inspired lovelorn acts, such as lying face down in a rainy gutter in imitation of a scene from Sunset Boulevard, when things aren’t going so well with romance. Irish humor surpasses Hollywood’s endless juvenile attempts at romantic comedy in the first movie written by Doyle, the script adapter for The Commitments and The Snapper.

The full effect of Brenden’s all-enveloping love for Trudy gets displayed in his irony-free solo rendition of Iggy Pop’s “The Passenger” before a classroom full of Irish teenage lads. After having been encouraged by the school headmaster to look into Mr. Pop’s Lust For Life album, Brenden can finally connect with something modern, even if he does sing the song in an uproarious ‘John McCormack’ classical vocal style. Brenden ends his musical outpouring by telling his class: “So, you see, there’s nothing uncool about a formally trained voice.” It’s an homage that even Iggy Pop would approve.

But all is not what it seems with Trudy, when after several episodes of glorious sex, she reveals that her occupation is not as a Montessori nursery school teacher, but rather as a cat burglar. Trudy represents the wild side of Dublin’s youth culture and enjoys pulling Brenden into the frontline of a social scene that welcomes his demure charms. However Trudy doesn’t meet with the same encouragement when she comes to Sunday dinner with Brenden’s middle-class family. The scene plays like a female Lou Reed pulled into a suburban nightmare of toaster ovens and frilly wallpaper. Brenden’s sister Nuala (Pauline McLynn) lights into Trudy while his mother goes into a tirade about the current trend of young children to say ‘motherfucker’ every other word. After the episode Trudy vows that she will rob his sisters house and storms off, leaving Brenden tragically heartbroken.

It isn’t long before Brenden goes out on a limb for Trudy and a solidifying rematch occurs. Brenden’s love of classic films congeals with Trudy’s devotion to theft as the couple dress up like Jean-Paul Belmondo and Jean Seberg from Jean-Luc Goddard’s Breathless and go on a pilfering spree that involves a visit to Nuala’s house for some pleasant revenge.

When Brenden Met Trudy plays on the idea that opposites attract, and toys with the unexpected compromises that people make for the person they love. Brenden becomes a thief and Trudy proves to be a much better teacher than her lie about teaching nursery school could ever have predicted. Peter McDonald and Flora Montgomery have a wellspring of depth and charm that intoxicate the film with their vibrancy and mutual affection.

References from classic films like John Wayne’s The Searchers, Mel Brooks’ The Producers, and The Hunchback of Notre Dame sparkle out of the movie like little touchstones leading the story down its cinematic path. The filmmakers took great care in capturing modern-day Dublin as a place where romance happens and people really do fall in love. It’s a refreshing take on the traditional romance-comedy that taps into an energy level that goes overboard while still respecting boundaries of the genre. It’s hard to imagine a film making better use of Jonathan Richman’s “Egyptian Reggae” in its soundtrack, and for that alone, all romantic intention is clear.