This movie is the cinematic equivalent of Wonderbread: soft, bland, flavorless, colorless, unadventurous, and mostly air. It has no subtext or complexity; what you see is what you get, and what you see is crap. The town of Mystery revolves around its scrappy, against-the-rules hockey team, challenged when a prodigal son (played by Hank Azaria, who actually made me laugh, which can only mean that he rewrote his own lines) sets up a cheap promotional stunt of having the New York Rangers come to play this plucky, ragtag bunch. I didn't stay past the first hour, but I think I can guess how it comes out (I sort of doubt they lose).
After all, Kelley pours every other possible cliche into this "feel good" and "heart warming" (the two most dire insults I can give a film) stinker. There's the oppressive father and his rebellious son (who, natch, delivers an over-emotional "I'm sorry I couldn't be what you wanted me to be, Dad! I'm sorry you couldn't make the hockey team when you were my age, Dad! But this is MY life!" speech); the inspiring scene when, faced with the decision of whether or not to play the Rangers, one by one the members of the team stand up and shout, "I'll play!" "Count me in!"; the veteran unwillingly making way for the young blood, who then has to prove himself; the sassy old lady who says things like "You seem like a real prick"... Oh, please, don't make me go on. It hurts!
The writing is atrocious, the jokes are flat and obvious, and for the first 30 minutes or so, everyone says, "fer god's sakes" at the end of every sentence, like they were getting paid a bonus for each time they said it. Kelley manages to make an exceptional cast -- Crowe, Azaria, Ron Eldard, Lolita Davidovitch, Colm Meaney -- BORING, fer god's sakes. I walked out because it was either that or scream out my pain and frustration at what a piece of shit this was, fer god's sakes. And yet... I seemed to be the only person not enjoying it. The audience was lapping up every moronic joke, shrieking with laughter like they were watching a man getting hit in the crotch with a football, fer god's sakes. (For you DC residents, Arch Campbell was there, and I'd be willing to bet he gives the movie a glowing review and calls it "a quirky, feel-good Rocky on ice.")
So this is probably just my elitist, snobby, film-school-wannabe tendencies, but... let this Mystery be.
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I know this is going on a little long, but I promised some of you I'd share amusing stories about my 10-year high school reunion, which took place last Saturday night. But even I can't spin anecdotal gold out of so little straw. It was dull, boring, without interest. I spent more time doing my hair and makeup than I spent at the actual event. None of the people I would have liked to see showed up. Surprisingly, a couple of people I never knew all that well recognized me instantly. I'm not sure whether or not to take that as a compliment, seeing as how I was dressed like a five-dollar hooker.
The only even mildly entertaining thing to come out of this night was that I found out that my high school crush got married in May to the winner of the Hawaiian Tropic pageant (and they're going to Vegas in a few weeks to compete in the nationals because she won the local competition this year again). My informant told me he didn't think the woman was that attractive, but she had big hair going for her. So, if they televise the Hawaiian Tropic pageant (probably on ESPN2 or TNN or something), look for Ms. Nebraska so that you can say to your friend or partner, "My friend Megan had a crush on that contestant's husband!"
(I know, it's not much, but it's all I've got.)
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