Tropic Thunder

You can’t talk about Tropic Thunder without talking about Robert Downey Jr. and that’s not just because he’s the funniest thing in this big, broad spoof of war movies. The newly minted box-office superhero plays Kirk Lazarus, an acclaimed Aussie method actor with piercing blue eyes and five Oscars on his shelf. For his latest role, Lazarus has been cast in a big-budget Vietnam War flick opposite action superstar Tugg Speedman (Ben Stiller, who also serves as Thunder’s director and co-writer), obese comedian Jeff “Fats” Portnoy (Jack Black) and rapper-turned-actor Alpha Chino (Brandon T. Jackson).

Shooting on location in Asia, the four stars are dropped into the middle of the jungle to shoot some gritty battle footage and end up getting involved in an actual firefight with local drug lords. But here’s the twist that will really have everyone buzzing: Lazarus, who is white, is playing an African-American character. As if that’s not enough, he’s undergone a radical pigmentation procedure to have his skin darkened. So, in essence, Downey Jr. is doing his role in blackface. Are we really expected to laugh at this? Isn’t it horribly offensive? Can a white actor really don blackface in the 21st century and get away with it?

The answers to these questions are, in order, yes, no and not entirely. Historically, blackface performers sought to entertain their audience with horribly offensive caricatures, which mocked black culture, appearance and speech. But in Tropic Thunder, both Downey Jr. and the filmmakers make it clear from the get-go that the joke isn’t on African-Americans, but on Lazarus for believing that surgically darkening his skin and repeatedly quoting The Jeffersons will make him “black enough” to play a role he never should have won in the first place. Still, there’s no question that Downey Jr.’s performance may generate some uncomfortable silences amongst moviegoers of all races.

And he’s not the only actor who takes a walk on the provocative side in Thunder. Much of the pre-release publicity has focused on Simple Jack, a mentally challenged farm boy played by Stiller’s Speedman character in another film-within-the-film. Simple Jack understandably has a lot of real-life advocacy groups concerned, but like his co-star, Stiller is careful make himself and not the mentally disabled the butt of the gag. What the actor/director is really spoofing here is the way leading Hollywood actors view playing a disabled character as a direct path towards Oscar glory. (Kate Winslet made a similar observation, albeit one geared towards the Academy’s endless fascination with Holocaust dramas, during her appearance in the first season of Ricky Gervais scabrous satirical series Extras.)

Seen out of context, I can understand why some viewers are concerned about the film’s more extreme elements, but a toned down Tropic Thunder would be far less funnier and, arguably, much more insulting. The main reason the satire succeeds is because all of the actors are willing to go big and broad, even when they risk looking foolish or, worse, like a bunch of ignorant assholes. In its best moments, the movie generates the same kind of delirious laughter that greeted Blazing Saddles, another film that used outrageous comedy to explode conventional definitions of “good taste.” I don’t mean to put Thunder in the same category as Mel Brooks’ comic masterpiece, because, truth be told, it can’t sustain itself for its nearly two-hour running time. Much of the best material happens within the first hour and, by the end, Stiller is forced to recycle jokes, most notably a stunt cameo appearance by Tom Cruise as a foul-mouthed studio head, that are funny the first time, but are decidedly less so the second, third and fourth. And like the recent Pineapple Express, the film also casts some truly talented comedians in supporting roles and gives them almost nothing to do; Nick Nolte, Bill Hader, Steve Coogan and Jay Baruchel all do their best to steal a few moments of screentime, but all too often they’re drowned out by the main stars, as well as the numerous explosions that turn the last thirty minutes into a too-conventional war picture.

Still, Tropic Thunder deserves to be seen solely for Downey Jr.’s brilliant one-man show, which, in a perfect world, would be recognized by Oscar voters come January. That the actor commits so fearlessly to a role that would challenge even Daniel Day-Lewis is another example of his ongoing career renaissance. And with a dramatic turn in November’s The Soloist (co-starring Jaime Foxx) on the horizon, by this time next year, Downey Jr. may just be another King of Hollywood…behind Will Smith, of course.

Also in Theaters
Star Wars: The Clone Wars

The fact that the newest entry in the Star Wars franchise is a PG-rated animated feature should tell you all you need to know about who The Clone Wars‘ target audience is. And yet, some older fanboys (most notably many of the crew over at Ain’t It Cool News) can’t seem to wrap their heads around the fact that they may have outgrown the franchise that shaped their cinematic personalities. From its broad physical comedy to its wisecracking Jedi-in-training (who playfully calls her tormented mentor Anakin Skywalker “Sky Guy”) The Clone Wars is directed first and foremost at kids and their families. It’s also little more than a feature-length pilot for Cartoon Network’s upcoming animated series, which also takes place during the galaxy-spanning battle that followed the events of Attack of the Clones. But here’s the thing: The Clone Wars is actually kind of fun. Though certainly not up there with the original Holy Trilogy, it goes down far smoother than either Episode I or Episode II (Episode III is still pretty good) thanks largely to the absence of any awkward romance or one Jar Jar Binks. (The movie does have its own Jar Jar in the form of Ziro the Hutt, the ambiguously gay uncle of Jabba.) Director Dave Filoni keeps the action fast and furious, staging a relentless mountainside battle as well as a great mano-a-mano lightsaber duel between Obi-Wan and new villainess Asajj Ventress. Whenever the fighting stop of courses, the movie starts to drag, but with a zippy 99-minute runtime, The Clone Wars rushes to its finale before wearing out its welcome. If you take your Star Wars seriously, chances are you’ll view this flick as sacrilege, but younger viewers will be able to enjoy themselves without feeling the weight of the franchise’s history on their shoulders.

Vicky Christina Barcelona

After making a roaring comeback with Match Point, Woody Allen stumbled badly with his next two films, the diverting, but pointless Scoop and the almost unwatchable Cassandra’s Dream. Fortunately, Allen’s 39th feature is a breezy delight. While it falls just short of his A-list, it fits snugly amongst such B-movies as Broadway Danny Rose, Mighty Aphrodite and Deconstructing Harry. All the credit has to go to the film’s cast, specifically Javier Bardem, the best leading man in any Allen film since Sean Penn ran away with Sweet and Lowdown. The recent Oscar-winner plays Juan Antonio, a Spanish artist who gets involved with two beautiful American tourists visiting Barcelona for the summer. Vicky (Rebecca Hall) is a soon-to-be-married grad student who is initially put off by Antonio’s advances, but ends up feeling strangely attracted to him. In contrast, her tempestuous friend Christina (Scarlett Johansson) is more than ready to leap into the handsome stranger’s bed, eventually becoming his artistic muse, a position she ends up sharing with his mentally unstable ex-wife Maria Elena (Penelope Cruz, in the film’s second-best performance). Allen’s views about marriage and its impact on artistic expression will no doubt ignite spirited debates amongst the film’s audience. Given his own past, it’s more than a little creepy to imagine him advocating the kind of three-way relationship that Juan Antonio, Christina and Maria Elena wind up enjoying. That said, the actors make the questionable gender politics work, investing their characters with an emotional honesty that may not have existed on the page. The film is gorgeous to look at too; the sun-dappled Spanish metropolis has rarely been lovelier onscreen and Bardem, Johansson and Cruz register an off-the-charts sex appeal (Hall does as well, of course, but Allen makes sure the most beautiful close-ups are reserved for his gal Scarlett.) Movies like Vicky Christina Barcelona make all of us Allen devotees believe that our one-time hero still has a few good stories left up his sleeve.

Anita O’Day: The Life of a Jazz Singer

A heartfelt tribute to the iconic crooner, who passed away just before the film was completed, this touching documentary mixes vintage archival footage with recently taped interviews with the star and her many admirerers. Like last year’s documentary about Pete Seeger, the tone is relentlessly upbeat, focusing primarily on O’Day’s triumphs, although not completely sugercoating the hardships she experienced, some of which were of her own making. Although the film is accessible for all audiences, it will be best appreciated by those with a knowledge of O’Day and the era of music she represents.