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"Star Trek Into Darkness" Available for Pre-order on Blu-ray and DVD
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The David Dorfman screenplay is yet another of those "high concept" package deals - replete with contrived plots and big-name movie stars in the leads - that look irresistible to all those corporate green-lighters at the studio, but which fall to pieces the moment they come to fruition on the big screen. Sandler plays a mild-mannered, put-upon schnook who is unfairly and inexplicably convicted of assaulting a stewardess on an airplane. Much to Sandler's chagrin, the court consigns him to the care of Nicholson, a well-known anger management specialist who is more certifiably psychotic than the patients he is ostensibly helping. The strained, manufactured plot is little more than an excuse to give Nicholson a chance to chew the scenery and Sandler to act bemused, befuddled and benumbed. Unfortunately, that's pretty much how the audience feels after 106 minutes of nonstop crudity, predictability and over-the-top ranting. Director Peter Segal tries desperately to make the whole enterprise come across as madcap, witty and anarchic, but with virtually every single joke and set-up fizzling and sputtering out, the film ends up feeling merely chaotic and desperate.
The filmmakers have peppered their movie with any number of cameo appearances by some famous real life New Yorkers, but their performances are so thoroughly inept and wretched that "Anger Management" begins to feel more like amateur night at the Roxy than a multimillion-dollar Hollywood production. This is most acutely felt in the painfully awkward and embarrassingly mawkish climactic moments played out, stereotypically, before a packed house at Yankee Stadium (didn't we see this scene a few years back in "Never Been Kissed"?). Moreover, the "surprise" ending requires that we suspend disbelief more than is advisable even for a film of this nature, which could never expect us to believe for a fleeting moment anything that is going on here.
In what is a bizarre fluke of fate, I suppose, "Anger Management" turns out to be the second film in recent months to feature characters massacring and mangling the Bernstein and Sondheim song "I Feel Pretty" from "West Side Story." What I said about this phenomenon in my review of "Analyze That" holds true here as well: that filmmakers with a dubious movie on their hands should avoid reminding us of a much better film while we are being asked to suffer through theirs. It only makes the experience that much more painful.
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