Review - 30 Minutes or Less

Grade: B+

Good: Hilarious performances from McBride, Swardson and Ansari; Eisenberg anchors the flick as an edgy, clever slacker; Consistent laughs born from solid pacing and deft balance of strong comedy and light action.

Bad: Racial comedy may be off-putting to some audiences; less of an action film than trailers would lead audiences to believe

Ugly: Man+Alcohol+Flamethrower. Do the math.

About ten years ago, the R-rated comedy didn’t hold nearly as much weight as it does today. In wake of The Hangover—the first one, the good one—the stable of Judd Apatow films, and a select few surprise hits in the vein of both, audiences are getting their fill of risqué comedies. That’s not news. What’s also not news is the fact that this glut has allowed for some inspired genre mash-ups. From Hangover’s Memento style mystery to stoner caper Pineapple Express to zombie homage Zombieland, some of the best R-rated of the past few years have successfully spliced genres to provide great stories and big laughs. Of course, genre mashing works as often as it fails (looking at you, Your Highness). But, when it works, something great is born.

Like some of the more successful comedic genre splicers, Rueben Fleischer’s 30 Minutes or Less offers a riotous, irreverent take on two seemingly incompatible genres—heist and slacker flicks—that pretty much tramples the limits of good taste. In 30 Minutes, Fleischer reunites with the lead from his superior cult hit Zombieland, Jesse Eisenberg, who plays Nick, a slacker pizza delivery boy with no clear ambition beyond getting drunk and watching action movies. Nick appears to be a kick-ass driver who can easily, but never actually does, beat his crap pizzeria’s 30 minute or less delivery credo. On one of his deliveries, he runs afoul of doofus underachievers, Dwayne (Danny McBride) and Travis (Nick Swardson), who have hatched a plan to get a million dollars. All they have to do is kill Dwayne’s father, a retired Marine Major (Fred Grandy) who hit the lottery and is steadily burning through his winnings. The hitch is that these two amateur criminals are just clever enough to devise a plan that will keep them far south of implication. To that end, they kidnap Nick and strap a bomb to him with the condition that he must rob a bank in ten hours, netting them enough money to hire an “assassin” (Michael Pena) to kill the Major. Nick turns to his friend and roommate Chet (a stiff, but hilarious Aziz Ansari) for help as tries to rob the bank and outsmart a collection of criminals that are far more dangerous in their ignorance. Hilarity, of the highest order, ensues.

Eisenberg, fresh off the triumph of playing Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg in the Social Network, continues show why he is so much more than the Michael Cera clone many predicted he’d become. He brings a jittery quality to Nick that belies his slacker tendencies. From the very beginning, Eisenberg’s Nick seems clever and possessed of some skill, but unmotivated, coming off as cross between his on the edge interpretation of Zuckerberg and his smarter than the average slacker Columbus from Zombieland, with a dash of Adventureland’s James. While Eisenberg doesn’t get to deliver a ton of punch lines, Ansari, McBride and Swardson more than make up the slack. Ansari proves as stiff as he was when he hosted the MTV Movie Awards last year, but still delivers some quality jokes that would never get pass network or basic cable sensors. Hopefully, in the very near future, he’ll become more comfortable in front of the camera or else this kid is going to be banished to the comedy clubs. Danny McBride carries the heaviest loads with a Kenny Powers-esque performance as spiteful, ambitious and slightly racist Dwayne. McBride’s commitment to playing straight-faced slime balls is pretty unmatched these days, and McBride’s performance in 30 Minutes only helps prove that point. Swardson proves an ample sidekick and moral counterpoint to McBride, using his dimwitted, good natured charm to make McBride’s Dwayne appear even more outrageous. Michael Pena arrives midway through the flick as a “skilled assassin” whose sketchiness adds some solid laughs while escalating the stakes significantly. Unlike Fleishcer’s Zombieland, female roles a pretty underserved here, with only Greek’s Dillshad Vadsaria (Kate, Nick’s crush and Chet’s sister) barely registering more than a damsel in absence then distress.

Fleischer is wise to let his cast do most of the heavy lifting in 30 Minutes as their performances keep the laughs consistent, but 30 Minutes is so well-paced and slyly furious that even a lesser cast would have needed to go out of their way to screw this up. For all the sly digs and farce he and screenwriter Michael Diliberti pack into 30 Minutes, neither eases up on showing the ugliness of the characters or the inevitable violence that results from Dwayne and Travis’ twisted endeavor. Aside from Nick, Chet, Kate and possibly Travis, these are not good people—even Nick and Chet stretch the limits of likability by being such pricks to each other in the early going. The litany of racist slurs some of the characters sling would be enough to turn off most if they weren’t executed by such dopey, and obvious, villains. Fleischer makes another wise move in having the characters almost constantly undone in the vein of classic heist movies where everything goes to hell because no one trusts each other—think the Fargo or Ladykillers, or, heck, any of the Cohens’ more comedic crime films, only more vulgar, and you’d have 30 Minutes. When things fall apart for the characters in 30 Minutes, Fleischer steps up to offer some decent action sequences, including a well-staged, if brief car chase and a sidesplitting take on a failed money drop. While not as creative as some of the action in Zombieland, the scenes are exceptionally effective as comedy, even at the expense of genuine thrills. Fleischer may not pack a great deal of thrills into his action scenes, but at least he keeps things moving, never leaving a minute for this flick to drag. 30 Minutes clocks in at a scant 83 minutes, a fine shift in an age where movies are becoming increasingly longer for no good reason.

As brisk and hilarious as 30 Minutes is, some of the racial gags can really sneak up an unsuspecting audience, so consider this a warning, and, despite what the trailers are selling, it’s not overly action packed. 30 minutes is a comedy first, crime film second. Also, humor is totally relative, so if the comedic stylings of Ansari, McBride, and Swardson as well as Fleischer’s own skewed senses of humor aren’t your cup of tea then everything after the credits will pretty much fall flat. If, however, you enjoyed Zombieland and the Cohens’ comedic crime films, and don’t find Jesse Eisenberg to be a nauseating Cera-clone, then you’ll find 30 Minutes to be one of the best R-rated comedies this year and one of the better genre mash-ups in the past three years.

Review - Captain America: The First Avenger

Grade: A-

Good: Good old-fashioned superheroics with an earnestness missing from most superhero movies; Anchored by solid, likable performances from Evans, Atwell and Jones; Cool Easter eggs for comic fans

Bad: Some weak CGI and needless special effects; rushed ending

Ugly: When the Red Skull loses his face.

When I was about ten, my favorite superhero movie was not Superman or Batman, but Disney’s adaptation of The Rocketeer. I didn’t recognize the nostalgia for what it was at the time, but I knew Nazis were bad and a guy with jetpack strapped to his back, which was as likely to kill him as propel him into the air, would never be anything but cool. Seeing the movie again earlier this year, I realized how great it really was. It was an earnest piece of nostalgia—almost twenty years later and I get it—that was unafraid to be simple, good old-fashioned superhero fun. Marvel’s Captain America: The First Avenger is the perfect heir to the Rocketeer’s legacy, delivering a plain old fun superhero tale that recalls the virtues of Golden Age comics with little of the angst and pretense of most superhero movies.

Captain America breaks the cycle of rote origin stories to become Marvel’s best movie since the first Iron Man thanks in large part to its likable cast and commitment to unabashed, uncomplicated superheroics. Chris Evans, the former Human Torch, stars as the titular Sentinel of Liberty, Steve Rogers, who begins the movie as a 98 lb. weakling desperate to join the allied effort to battle the Third Reich in 1942. Evans plays Rogers perfectly as a hero with a heart bigger than Spider-Man’s and easily more willpower than Green Lantern. Evans’ Rogers is tough and patriotic, but not overbearing as one might expect from a hero draped in the flag, and this is all before he becomes Cap. After four failed attempts to enlist, Rogers is handpicked by genteel, noble German refuge Dr. Abraham Erskine (Stanley Tucci, playing another sublime variation on the world’s coolest mentor), at the Stark Exposition no less, for an experimental procedure. With the help of austere British agent Peggy Carter (Hayley Atwell) and the father of the future Iron Man, Howard Stark (Dominic Cooper), Erskine subjects Rogers to a super scientific procedure that basically equates to an injection of steroids in an industrial strength tanning booth. Rogers emerges as the picture of human perfection, with peak human agility, speed and strength. Ironically, he’s the embodiment of Hitler’s Aryan ideal sent to sock Hitler in the face.

On the other side of the Atlantic, the result of Erskine’s first experiment, Nazi malcontent with a severe skin condition Johann Schmidt aka The Red Skull (Hugo Weaving), is building an army known as Hydra that will break away from the Third Reich and bring the world to its knees. As the Red Skull plans to take over the world with the help of a cosmic device yanked from Odin’s treasure room—see, it’s all connected—Cap slogs through a stint as a USO mascot and war bonds salesman before single-handedly rescuing a unit that includes his best friend, one James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes (Sebastian Stan), and setting himself on a crash course with the Skull and Hydra.

While Evans does a great job toning down his typical snarky charisma and imbuing Cap with a respectable, genuine sincerity, he is supported by a more than able cast that includes Tommy Lee Jones and a number of familiar, if not overly famous, faces. Hayley Atwell’s Agent Carter is a solid romantic foil for Cap. She is competent and tough, but shows feelings for Cap without being schmaltzy. Jones plays the Colonel of Cap’s unit with the rugged toughness that has defined Jones career. In Cap, he seems to be rehashing his Agent K persona from Men in Black while seeming to have as much fun in a comic-based film as he’s had in a long time. Sebastian Stan is great in a smart turn as Bucky Barnes. Comic fans will be familiar with Bucky as essentially Captain America’s Robin, a teenage sidekick thrust into a ridiculously dangerous situation. Here, Director Joe Johnston and a screenwriting team led by Christopher Markus make a smart move by aging Bucky to adulthood and establishing a more storied rapport between the two. Dominic Cooper brings a cocky spark to Howard Stark that mimics Robert Downey’s performance as Howard’s son Tony.

Hugo Weaving does a serviceable job as the Red Skull, a villain who is not as flamboyant as the Joker or the Green Goblin. Due to the focus Red Skull as the force behind on Hydra rather than a weapon of the Third Reich, Skull loses a bit of his edge. Weaving doesn’t help by dropping the German accent a few times and wavering between slightly over-the-top villainy and believable menace. On average, the performances in Cap are uniformly great in their balance between cockiness and grit that many, right or wrongly, believe defined the WWII era.

Director Joe Johnston was seen as a questionable when announced, but, as the man who helmed The Rocketeer, he’s actually perfect. With Captain America, he did a great job of recreating the visual feel of 1940s serials, complete with sepia filter and halo effect. It was an especially wise choice on his and Marvel’s part to avoid temptation to bring Cap into the modern age too soon. The war era setting makes the characters earnestness much easier to digest and seems to deflate any cynicism very quickly, mostly due to the rose-colored glasses through which many view WWII. Marvel Zombies will also be pleased with Easter eggs of some notable heroes and villains from the era and nods to classic Cap mythos, including a pretty faithful recreation of the original costume used in serials from the 40s—though, it must be said, the new costume is pretty cool and is probably the most practical superhero costume since Batman’s Dark Knight variation.

Captain America fails a bit with some visual effects that can be a bit hokey with the main offender being the CGI de-muscling of Chris Evans. One thing about Cap that Johnston may have missed is that he’s not superhuman. Cap is the peak of human physical ability, so there’s no need for him to toss guys around like superman. If Johnston and Marvel would have looked to the Bourne trilogy for inspiration, they could have made Cap a living weapon with a minimum of special effects. Captain America also suffers from a rushed ending that removes the possibility of some very necessary character development for Cap. In the Marvel Universe, Cap is known as a master strategist who has logged hundreds of missions. The movie glosses over the mission’s that would have built Cap’s legend in effort to jump forward. Hopefully, there will be a sequel that eschews a modern adventure for a look at the parts of Cap's legacy that Johnston skipped.

I don’t normally call for sequels, but I want to see more Captain America. Not many superhero movies have been this enjoyable, likeable and just plain fun. It may not have the edge that more jaded members of the audience are looking for, but it trades the snark and angst that defines Marvel for a genuineness that is sorely lacking in most superhero films. Many in know will only see this as another of Marvel’s 90-minute commercials for next year’s Avengers, but Cap, just like Steve Rogers, is so much more and that’s worth saluting.

Review - Friends with Benefits

Grade: C-

Good: A few clever observations on modern technology and consumer habits; For the guys: shots of Mila Kunis’ bare backside; For the ladies: shots of Justin Timberlake’s bare backside.

Bad: Slightly detestable leads; a script that thinks it’s cleverer than it actually is; Becomes the same trite romantic comedy cliché it pokes fun at.

Ugly: Gags about going to bathroom during sex. With visuals.

In the 2003, MTV’s True Life, the closest thing the network has ever had to a reality show, featured a special on the “friends with benefits” phenomenon (because casual sex between acquaintances was news to anyone who missed the history lesson on the late 60s and the sexual revolution). In January 2011, pixie-ish Natalie Portman and debatably charming Ashton Kutcher starred in No Strings Attached, a breezy romantic comedy about the highs and lows of a no strings attached relationship. In July 2011, debatably appealing Justin Timberlake and spunky Mila Kunis star in the “were not even trying to be clever with the title anymore” Friends with Benefits, which is exactly what it says on the tin: a breezy romcom about the highs and lows of a friends with benefits relationship. How timely.

Dueling movies is nothing new. Anybody old enough to legally see Friends should remember the late 90s heyday of Armageddon and Deep Impact, released within months of each other in 1998, or Volcano and Dante’s Peak, both released in 1997. Originality, despite their claims to the contrary, has never been the studios’ strong suit, and that’s fine. The real issue is does the audience want or need these double doses. Sadly, it doesn’t matter; they’re getting them anyway, and with no marked improvement or originality in sight.

Friends with Benefits is qualitatively no better or worse than No Strings Attached. It is a middling romcom that thinks it’s much smarter than it actually is. Friends brings together Justin Timberlake’s cocky—in a shocking case of casting against type—Dylan Harper, a new media wunderkind from the West Coast who runs a gossip blog and is up for a job as Art Director at GQ. Seriously. Mila Kunis—falling into a pattern of playing herself in everything like a real movie star should—plays the brassy Jamie Relis, a stereotypical tough city girl from New York who makes her living as an executive headhunter. Ignoring the fact that neither seems “seasoned” enough for either position, Jamie brings Dylan to GQ and sells him on taking the job and moving to the “Greatest City in the World” under the pretense that she’ll get a bonus if he stays at GQ for a year. After Dylan takes the job, Jamie recognizes his potential loneliness and offers herself as his guide to the city, complete with a whirlwind tour of Manhattan and Brooklyn—those other boroughs don’t count anymore. With both reeling from recently failed relationships and clearly physically, if not emotionally (yet), attracted to each other, they agree to engage in a no strings attached—see how that works—sexual relationship sans emotion, despite their growing friendship. As they navigate the emotional, and occasional physical, pitfalls of this “relationship”, they uncover the reasons behind each other’s emotional issues and learn about the power of true love. No joke.

It’s hard to watch this movie without rolling one’s eyes into the back of one’s skull. From the overwritten, overeager leads who spend so much time poking fun at romcom conventions that the irony becomes thicker than molasses to the late-in the game attempts at sentimentality, Friends is exactly what it thinks it isn’t: a stereotypical romantic comedy, albeit with three or four extended sex scenes that fall just below the softcore threshold. A movie like this is built on, at bare minimum, the chemistry and likability of its leads. While there’s little debate about the undeniable chemistry, the likability of the leads, despite Director Will Gluck’s best efforts, is questionable at best.

Justin Timberlake continues to play characters who I’m sure he believes are lovable, charismatic jerks. One out of three ain’t bad… Clearly still in Sean Parker mode, Timberlake’s Dylan is kind of a douche with severe intimacy issues. Unfortunately for Dylan, the only reason to empathize with him is because the script says so. He’s not particularly nice or self-effacing. He’s the shit and he knows it, which makes for a terrible way to connect with audiences, especially in this kind of movie. Kunis’ Jamie, on the other hand, is a walking cliché. She’s the tough New Yorker with a wounded heart of gold. Apparently, in 2011, this is a radical concept. Kunis’ typical quick wit and brash abandon keep the character from being too grating, but she’s such a walking billboard for New Yorkahs that she might cease to exist when she’s more than ten miles west of the Hudson.

As usual, the leads are backed by varying degrees of goofy and schmaltzy sidekicks and family members who press them to make a more traditional commitment. Woody Harrelson plays up his effete gentleman angle as the flaming sports editor at GQ—more clever irony—who acts as the devil on Dylan’s shoulder. Patricia Clarkson delivers another retread of the loopy middle-ager as Jamie’s aging love child mother, who couldn’t identify Jamie’s biological father if she tried, serving as both part of the reason for Jamie’s issues and a motivator urging Jamie to pursue true love. Jenna Elfman brings a better balance of sentimentality and humor as Dylan’s sister who takes of care their Alzheimer afflicted father (Richard Jenkins) while Nolan Gould, of Modern Family fame, brings his absent-minded Luke persona for the big screen. By the way, apparently the only people of color in New York or L.A. are cab drivers, flash mobbers and a random Amazon executive.

Director Will Gluck, best known for the slightly above average teen comedy Easy A, must have filmed Friends with a dirt brown filter—either that or the theater holding the screening desperately needs new bulbs in the projector—because this movie is darker than a post converted 3D cash grab. Everything is muddy and muted, even on sunny days. Maybe this is a jab at the overproduced quality of most romcoms, but that’s no excuse. While the clear appeal of a flick like this is to see attractive movie stars get naked and hookup, the sex scenes can become a bit uncomfortable. This isn’t because of the act itself, but rather because they’re repetitive and long. Honestly, by the fourth scene, the audience gets the point. I realize that this is essentially a sex comedy, but two or three scenes would have done the trick. Five is petitioning for a slot on Cinemax’s late night schedule.

Friends is not without a few clever gags here and there, including some smart shots at iPad functionality and book buying habits of the American consumer. Overall, Friends is too impressed with itself for being resistant to the very same clichés it slaves to. If this movie were made seven years ago with a less of an agenda against romantic comedies and some likeable leads, it would have been mildly entertaining. As it is, it’s maybe worth a rental down the line when a pair of friends are killing time until they cash in their benefits.

Review - Winnie the Pooh

Grade: A-

Good: Charming characters are at the center of a brisk, loose story with some quality situational and character humor and a dash of heart.

Bad: Short run time; A bit unfocused and episodic

Ugly: The Backson.

A.A. Milne hated Winnie the Pooh. He blamed the good-natured, absent-minded, honey-addicted teddy bear for ruining his career and forcing him to a life of writing children’s books. How dreadful. Honestly, I can’t understand the hatred because Pooh and Piglet and Tigger and all their friends in the Hundred Acre Wood are terribly charming.

In another welcome return to traditional feature animation, the most recent since 2009’s The Princess and the Frog, Disney’s Winnie the Pooh is a wonderful slice of nostalgia that will probably track as a cute Toy Story knock-off despite coming first and offering its own fun spin on toys that come to life. Favoring character and situational laughs over and archetypes and sight gags, Pooh was clearly cast in the Pixar mold—definitely showing the influence of executive producer John Lassiter—which is never a bad thing. If anything, Pooh comes off as an indie version of an animated feature. Like its titular character, it moves at its own pace, but still proves brisk and consistently entertaining.

Pooh follows the Hundred Acre Wood gang—including Owl, Rabbit, Kanga and Roo—as they try to figure out what happened to the eternally depressed Eyeore’s missing tael (I mean tail) and rescue Christopher Robin from a mysterious menace. Along the way, the story takes a number of detours into vignettes based on three of Milne’s classic Pooh stories—"In Which Eeyore Loses a Tail and Pooh Finds One" and "In Which Piglet Meets a Heffalump" from Winnie the Pooh and "In Which Rabbit Has a Busy Day and We Learn What Christopher Robin Does in the Mornings" from the House at Pooh Corner—that reveal the character’s all-too human foibles, from Owl’s misguided arrogance to Rabbit’s crankiness and, of course, Tigger’s “bull in a china shop” exuberance. Despite the focus on eccentricities of the cast, Pooh eventually works its way back to the effortless interactions between this makeshift family and simple lessons on friendship.

Pooh is woefully short, clocking in at just over an hour and playing like an extended episode of the Saturday morning series from the 90s. Pooh is far more energetic than the trailers and commercials with the sappy, sad Keane song would lead potential audiences to believe. It’s episodic structure and swift pacing keep it from dragging (a true blessing to the parents with young children in the audience). Despite its length and pace, Pooh gives a good amount of attention to each of the inhabitants of he Hundred Acre Wood, even giving Christopher Robin more to do than take a casual stroll with his favorite golden bear.

Now, Pooh’s (voiced by the unfailing Jim Cummings) name may be in the title, but every character gets their time to shine. Pooh’s honey obsession is ever present, as usual, but his affable, laid-back nature and flashes of sharpness still make him the bear everybody wishes they had. Owl (voiced by Craig Ferguson) has a pretty significant role this time, grabbing more screen than favorites Tigger and Piglet, and his pretentious loquaciousness and overbearing confidence make for some of the movie’s better laughs. That doesn’t mean the others don’t make a mark; it’s just surprising to see Owl play such a significant role.

As strong as Pooh is in terms of character and plot, visually it is equally as successful. Disney animators have taken the simplicity of the older Pooh cartoons and polished the animation to near perfection here, even including the classic interactions between the characters and the storybook text. Aside from a few mildly lavish, but still inventive, musical numbers with some snazzy CGI, nothing is over-designed or unnecessarily glamorized. The Hundred Acre Wood is a simple place and neither it nor its inhabitants need to be overly impressive. Pooh lives and dies by its ability to create a simple world where mildly complex personalities come together to realize uncomplicated truths about friendship and family. Thanks to the animators and writers, Pooh achieves that elegant tone visually and textually.

Winnie the Pooh is perfect for parents looking to briefly divert their children’s attention from outdoor activities. However, just because it’s a diversion, doesn’t mean it’s not worthy of attention. The humor is consistent and is just as likely to grab laughs from the adults as it from kids. The short length is as much a benefit as a drawback, as maybe ten more minutes would make room for perennially underserved characters like Kanga and Roo to do more than make a few timely quips. Also, the episodic nature can make the movie seem a tad unfocused, but, all in all, Winnie the Pooh is a fine way to spend an hour. There’s even a quaint animated short, The Ballad of Nessie, at the beginning about the Loch Ness Monster that falls just short of the superior Pixar shorts. As a lapsed fan Pooh’s adventures, I am proud to recommend this gem, which hopefully won’t be overlooked in the wake of the end of all things wizardry.

Review - A Better Life

Grade: B-

Good: Demian Bichir’s powerful performance as Carlos; Affecting portrait of a father’s struggle to provide, survive and thrive.

Bad: Grating, rote anti-gang subplot; Jose Julian as Carlos’ son Luis can be annoying in the early stages; Hints of a political agenda.

Ugly: The treatment some of the illegal immigrants face just to pursue a dream Americans take for granted.

Anytime I hear someone refer to the “American Dream” I can’t help but think they’re being a bit disingenuous, and arrogant. Americans aren’t, and never have been, the only people pursuing happiness, and America isn’t the only place to live a comfortable, fulfilling life. But, for so many, it offers the hope, and often nothing more, of a better life. Director Chris Weitz examines how far one father will go in pursuit of a better life for himself and his son in Summit’s new drama, A Better Life.

The immigration debate is at the center of this drama, which follows illegal Mexican immigrant Carlos Galindo (Demian Bichir) as he comes within reach of escaping a life of inconsistent work and constant paranoia. Carlos makes his living as a day laborer in East Los Angeles, using the scant, menial wages he earns to support his son, Luis (Jose Julian), a restless teen tempted by the gang life that swallows so many young men of color whole. When Carlos’ friend and most “reliable” employer, Blasco (Joaquin Cosio), offers to sell him a truck filled with landscaping tools, Carlos sees the opportunity to run his own business and pull his family away from the hard life in the East L.A. barrio. For a day, Carlos sees a better future, but, after the truck is stolen, he embarks on a desperate mission to reclaim his future and reconnect with his son.

No matter what side of the immigration debate you fall on, you will be moved by Bichir’s restrained, yet powerful performance as Carlos. Bichir is superb, giving Carlos the quiet dignity and reserve of a leading man from a bygone era. Bichir’s Carlos is selfless—he sleeps on a couch while his son has a bedroom to himself—fearless—he climbs an easily five-story palm tree without hesitation just to cut a few leaves—and genial—in the search for his truck, he shows all those who help him the utmost compassion, often offering what little money he has in return for information—in a way that few lead characters are today. In the era of the HBO-style anti-hero, Carlos is refreshingly retro, an old-school “man’s man” hero in the place where audiences would least expect him. He is also a man of resounding depth. He may bottle up his emotions, but he does not disregard them. When Carlos faces a devastating circumstance near the film’s end, every ounce of emotion he reveals rings true and will surely move the most jaded viewers to tears.

Jose Julian, as Carlos’ son Luis, fares less impressively, playing a fiery counterpart to his father’s noble stoicism. Luis is unmotivated, aggressive and annoying, everything his father is not—and seeing Carlos forced to deal with his son’s brattiness is infuriating. Even worse, he’s saddled with a rote subplot about potentially joining a gang that is populated by some pretty sad Chicano stereotypes, including the tatted gangster (Gabriel Chavarria), boorish chola (Chelsea Rendon) and mouthy wannabe (Bobby Soto). As a counterpoint to his father and an example of the disconnect between American-born children of immigrants, Julian’s Luis is effective, but he’s so unlikeable that it’s hard to connect with him until the midpoint of the film. A scene where Luis and his father attend a traditional Mexican rodeo is particularly effective in making Luis more than a typical movie teen while cementing his father’s motivations.

Despite some missteps with Luis, director Chris Weitz, best known for daring to tackle adaptations of The Golden Compass and Twilight: New Moon, paints a solid picture of the immigrant struggle. Granted, images of East LA filled with day laborers, gangs, and muted sunshine are not terribly original, but Weitz never plays the exploitation angle. The people of these neighborhoods are generally rendered with the respect and compassion they are due. Just seeing so many of the adult East Angelinos working crap jobs under discouraging conditions shows how far these folks are willing to go to survive and, maybe, thrive. If anything, Weitz film shows that the “American Dream” is still alive, even if Americans aren’t the ones pursuing it.

Aside from its compassion toward its subjects, the film’s greatest assets are the simplicity of its plot and the palpable air of paranoia. Carlos is not pursuing some one in a million opportunity to become extraordinarily wealthy. He simply wants the opportunity to work and provide for his son. The fact that this all revolves around a pickup truck with tools is great because that truck is no mere McGuffin; it is both a symbol of that better life and the means to reach it. The only thing that stands in Carlos’ way is the possibility of being caught and deported. There is an inconsistent sense that any mistake Carlos makes will expose him to the authorities. In the early goings, the concept of deportation seems like a boogeyman, but near the climax it becomes a true threat. If Weitz had put a bit more emphasis on this throughout, the film would have been measurably stronger.

A Better Life is at its best when it allows the audience to witness and empathize with Carlos’ struggle. Sure, Carlos comes off as a little bit too good to be true, but who’s to say that a fair number of people in his position aren’t decent and hardworking. Conversely, the portions focused on Luis and the encroaching threat of gangs is hackneyed and grating. Audiences may roll their eyes at Luis storyline, but they’ll be hard pressed to not feel something when the movie zeroes in on the growing connection between father and son. Now, folks in the audience who are sensitive on the immigration issue may bristle at this film—as there is a clear agenda in place—but if they can get beyond their views, they’ll be rewarded with an affecting portrait of the new face of the American Dream.