Review: ‘Ode to Joy’, Martin Freeman And Morena Baccarin Charm In A Rom-Com About Finding Love With A Disability

“Zika Virus, Famine in Darfur, White Guys with Dreads, Bill Cosby, Syria”

Imagine having to say that to yourself out loud (or something similar) every day in order to remain “happy.”  That’s part of Charlie’s (Martin Freeman) routine every day in Ode to Joy as he suffers from cataplexy.  This all too real disease is a form of narcolepsy, where the body shuts down completely and one falls asleep whenever a person feels strong emotions.  Charlie's trigger just happens to be happiness.  Watching kids play in the street?  Pass out.  A father holding his baby?  Pass out.  While managing it proves difficult, he has a system: he listens to awful morbid goth music on his headphones while muttering things to himself that would make anyone else depressed, on his way to his non-eventful job at the local library.  While life isn’t exciting, he’s content with it.

That is, until he meets Francesca (the always radiant Morena Baccarin) who is having a hellish time with her boyfriend (who took her to the library to break up with her just so that she wouldn’t get loud and flip out) as well as dealing with her sick aunt Sylvia (Jane Curtin) who’s going through cancer.  For some reason, Charlie is captivated by her and helps her deal with her situation with her soon to be ex-boyfriend and starts this boy meets girl situation.  Charlie knows he really can’t date her as he’ll pass out as soon as his emotions go above “dull,” but he decides to go on a date with her.  As expected, the moment happiness creeps into the date, he has an unfortunate accident.

Realizing that Francesca will always trigger his cataplexy, Charlie decides the best (and safest) option is to cut it off, but he can’t help but already have some feelings for her.  For some reason, he recommends to her to date his brother Cooper (Jake Lacy).  At first, this seems to be in order for Francesca to move on from both her boyfriend and him, but Charlie still wants her around, just in a way that won’t excite him to pass out while walking on the stairs.  This allows a semi-three-way to develop.  To make matters even more complicated, Cooper sets Charlie up with Bethany (Melissa Rauch) a waitress who works at the same bar as Francesca, and she’s very comfortably boring for Charlie.  The film goes through many of the troupes of the traditional Rom-Com: boy meets girl, boy dates girl, boy loses girl, they date other people, they get back together.  What separates this is that each actor is charming as hell, which ends up saving the film.

I can’t but help how real people with cataplexy would feel about the film.  While the film is based on Chris Higgins's “I've Fallen in Love and I Can't Get Up,” which was told on This American Life, turning the disability into many comedic moments, like disrupting his sister Liza’s (Shannon Woodward) wedding by passing out when he’s happy for her and other outlandish scenarios.  It’s a dangerous condition to have that potentially disastrous consequences, and real-life people who deal with it probably won’t find it that funny.  Ode To Joy tries to balance the comedic elements by informing the audience about the disability and Martin Freeman plays it with seriousness (at times), but it still seems to poke fun at it more than not.  That said, the performances by the cast are all heartfelt, and it wraps the story up in a nice bow.

Rating: 3 out of 5

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The 'Batman And Harley Quinn' Trailer Gives The Dark Knight An Unlikely Partner

The Clown Prince of Crime's favorite Clown Princess, Harley Quinn, was always a popular character ever since she debuted on Batman: The Animated Series, but Margot Robbie's depiction of her in Suicide Squad arguably makes her the most popular character in DC Films. So it's no surprise she's sharing the headline with Batman in the upcoming Warner Bros. animated movie, Batman and Harley Quinn, based on an original story by her co-creator, Bruce Timm.

Voiced by The Big Bang Theory's Melissa Raunch, Harley Quinn finds herself teaming up with Batman (Kevin Conroy) and Nightwing (Loren Lester) to stop her old friend Poison Ivy (Paget Brewster) who has figured out the best way to save the planet is to destroy most of humanity. And of course, Harley Quinn's off-the-wall behavior is exactly what Batman doesn't need and isn't likely to stand for. Not for long, anyway. Expect this one to have a lot more laughs than Batman's solo adventures. 

Batman and Harley Quinn premieres on digital download on Aug. 15th before hitting Blu-Ray/DVD on Aug. 29th, but you can pre-order it here. 

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Review: ‘Flock of Dudes,’ Starring Chris D’Elia, Skylar Austin, and Hannah Simone

Flock of Dudes has a stacked cast, and it’s disappointing that the film doesn’t take full advantage of it. Over the movie’s 110-minute runtime, there are solid bits and one-liners from the likes of Chris D’Elia, Brett Gelman, Eric André, Kumail Nanjiani, Hannibal Buress, and Timothy Simons (seriously, this lineup of comedic voices is no joke!), but it’s not nearly enough to temper the otherwise obviousness of this almost exclusively male-focused buddy comedy.

Take another look at that murderer’s row of a cast: all men, and that’s because Flock of Dudes is about a 30-something guy breaking up with his group of college friends. The film begins from a male point of view and stays there; there are a few different female characters, but they’re all love interests with varyingly sparse personalities.

That would be tolerable, maybe, if Flock of Dudes had something original to offer in its tale of male friendship and masculine bonding. But this is all fairly run-of-the-mill stuff, the kind of delayed-maturity journey upon which Judd Apatow has built a career. As winning as the cast of Flock of Dudes is, it can’t redeem this unsurprising narrative.

Flock of Dudes focuses on Adam (D’Elia), whose life is stuck in the same old routines. He’s still best friends with his college crew—the handsome, unmotivated Barrett (Bryan Greenberg); the zany wildcard Howie (Gelman); and the goofy, affectionate Mook (André)—and they live in a gross rental that they trash while partying every weekend. Random women come and go. He works at the National Lacrosse League, where he handles his PR responsibilities in about a half-hour and then otherwise goofs off all day. In his years of adulthood, nothing has really changed.

Adam seems to finally get a wakeup call, though, when his younger brother David (Austin), a successful realtor,  becomes engaged to his girlfriend Amanda (Hilary Duff), who just passed the bar exam. With their beautiful home and their promising careers ahead of them, David and Amanda seem to be adulting the right way—and it sparks in Adam a desire to change. So he has David help him draw up a “breakup contract,” an agreement between the four friends that would ban them from hanging out with each other for the six months leading up to David’s wedding.

With some forced time apart, maybe they’ll each grow—maybe Howie will finally get promoted, maybe Mook will pursue his passion for dance, maybe Barrett will go back to college and finish his degree. Adam doesn’t really think any of his friends will be that successful, though, because he’s convinced that the breakup will be best for him in particular. “Right now is the moment when I'm going to start to give a shit,” he proclaims, but of course, things don’t really work out that easily.

There are so many things for Adam to change his life—job he doesn’t care about, nowhere to live, etc.—but Flock of Dudes devotes a solid amount of his character development to his crush on coworker Beth (Simone), the quintessential cool girl: she’s beautiful, she plays kickball, she’s into sports, and she’s always dating jerks. So when she becomes single again, Adam decides to make his move, centering much of his self-betterment around a chance of getting with Beth. Whether he’ll succeed and whether the crew will get back together are the two climactic questions driving Flock of Dudes—although is it really a question if the answer is so clearly foretold?

D’Elia is a serviceable lead (although his drunk acting feels a bit too manufactured), and Gelman and André offer up their specific brands of weird humor in enjoyable ways, so the chemistry between the four leads isn’t the problem. And Buress (who gets a wonderful, terrible scene where he throws money at a stripper who is weeping and yells “I guess I’m into crying now!”) and Nanjiani (who tentatively, amusingly offers up that he liked crystal meth the one time he tried it) do well in their limited screen time, too.

But the structure of this storyline is so rigid—friends act badly, friends break up, friends get back together and claim to have “grown” even though they still act badly—that there’s little room for creativity or imagination. The most unique elements are throwaway gags like Howie sending a bouquet of dildos to Adam and Mook’s job as a revenge gift and the guys dressed up the California Raisins for Halloween, picking fights with the Ghostbusters, but those aren’t the core of the story.

And it’s problematic, too, that Flock of Dudes has no real interest in its female characters, even though the film “redeems” all the main males by giving them love interests by the film’s end.

Beth gets the most screen time so she can flirt with Adam, but has no true personality aside from “cool girl”; Melissa Rauch has a thankless role as the National Lacrosse League receptionist who is obsessed with Barrett, even though he can’t remember sleeping with her; Duff has a few lines as David’s perfect, boring fiancée; and there’s an extended gag including a woman Adam goes on a blind date with who spits in his face, tries to choke him, and says she hopes the condom broke so she can get pregnant.

The only funny thing about that latter subplot is that the woman has a tiger face tattooed on her ass, which Adam and David describe as “like the cartoon tiger, but hornier,” but even still, her character is ludicrous just so Adam and David can have a bonding moment. It’s an undermining of a female character to give the male characters something to do, and that’s unfortunately the dichotomy that dominates Flock of Dudes.

Maybe it was wrong to expect more from Flock of Dudes because of its great cast, but ultimately, the film is only so-so. Much like the bromance at its core, it doesn’t reach its full potential.

Rating: 2.5 out of 5 Guttenbergs

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Interview: Melissa Rauch Talks 'The Bronze' And That Wild Sex Scene With Sebastian Stan

Last year at the Sundance Film Festival, I had the pleasure of attending the Opening Night film, the world premiere of Melissa Rauch's gymnastics comedy, The Bronze. As one of the stars of CBS' The Big Bang Theory, Rauch's first major film role came with a ton of buzz, and her performance as a jaded ex-Olympic gymnast had everybody talking. The film finds Rauch working alongside her husband, Winston, who co-wrote the script and helped encourage her to take this next step...even though it meant having a wild, totally off-the-hook sex scene with Captain America: Civil War's Sebastian Stan that must be seen to be believed.

I had a chance to talk with Rauch about that sex scene, working with her husband, and how she's handling the buzz surrounding The Bronze. You can listen to that interview below, and check out my review of the film here!

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Review: 'The Bronze' Starring Melissa Rauch, Sebastian Stan, And Thomas Middleditch

NOTE: This is a reprint of my review from the 2015 Sundance Film Festival.

Women's gymnastics is a cutthroat sport; not like figure skating where the ladies occasionally bash one another with lead pipes, but it's still pretty ugly. The girls, because that's what they really are, get worked to death in order to attain a measure of perfection that must extend to their daily lives. Win and you'll be a hero...for a while, but you're considered old long before the age of 20 ever hits. And then what? In Melissa Rauch's dark comedy The Bronze it leads to a case of terminal arrested development worthy of a gold medal, although the film itself is maybe funny enough to earn...well, a bronze.

Rauch, who stars on CBS' The Big Bang Theory, plays Hope Ann Greggory, a gymnast who snapped her achilles during the 2004 Olympics and hung in there, Kerri Strug-style, to stick an impossible landing and earn a bronze medal. It made her an instant celebrity and national hero, but years later she's bitter as Hell with nothing to show for her past accomplishments. She lives at home with her lonely father Stan (Gary Cole) and basks in her former glories. The well-worn tape of her Olympic feat is masturbation material for the most part, and Hope cashes in on her fame for cheap sex and free food. Worst of all, she's a complete snot to her father and everyone she knows, which includes Maggie Townsend (Haley Lu Richardson), the hot young gymnast expected to be an Olympic champ.

While the show pony world of gymnastics is begging to be ripped in satirical fashion, Rauch's screenplay doesn't analyze the sport as much as use it as a backdrop to explore a life in a comical state of crisis. The problem is that Hope's life isn't all that humorous, it's just kind of pathetic, and too often Rauch goes overboard in trying to find laughs where there are none. When Hope's former trainer commits suicide, she's compelled to become Maggie's new trainer all the way through championships and earn $500,000. Does she train Maggie and see her position as town superstar supplanted? Or does she sabotage her efforts and risk losing the money? A few dozen hamburgers and milkshakes later and Hope is well on her way to derailing Maggie's career, which is funny to watch but doesn't exactly endear her to you in any way. The redemptive course she embarks on, because there inevitably has to be one, is complicated by the arrogant Lance Tucker (Sebastian Stan), a past champ and fling who Hope shares a love/hate relationship with. The two share one fantastically bizarre sexual encounter that must be like every gymnast's wet dream. The gym rings have never been put to such good use. It's a great scene that shows director Bryan Buckley's visual inventiveness and Rauch's commitment to a pretty raunchy role. The problem is that it never quite becomes engaging until she sparks a genuinely sweet but rocky romance with Ben (Thomas Middleditch), nicknamed "Twitchy" because of frequent and unexplained spasms. Middleditch gets some good mileage out of Twitchy's condition but he finds some solid chemistry with Rauch and gives the film a hopeful touch it sorely needed.

The Bronze never quite comes together as the laugh-out-loud riot some had pegged it to be heading into Sundance, and while it stumbles through the routine much of the way it just manages to stick the landing.

Rating: 3 out of 5

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Melissa Rauch Goes For Gold In New Trailer For 'The Bronze'

Arriving with the grace of a double foot fault at last year's Sundance Film Festival, Melissa Rauch's gymnastics comedy The Bronze didn't exactly win over the judges. It was a disappointing festival debut for the Big Bang Theory star and her co-writer/director husband, Winston Rauch, but with the film set to hit theaters soon it has a chance to score a few points with a totally different audience.

The latest trailer for the R-rated film shows off a little more of the Rauch's offbeat sense of humor. The film centers on a former Olympic medalist still living off her past glory ten years later. Rauch based some of the gags on her own experiences as a TV star and the attention she would receive back in her hometown. Here's the official synopsis:

"A decade ago, Hope Ann Greggory (Melissa Rauch) was America's sweetheart. Her inspired performance on a ruptured Achilles at the world's most prestigious gymnastics tournament clinched an unlikely bronze medal for the U.S. team and brought glory to her hometown of Amherst, Ohio. But in the years since that epic third place victory, Hope hasn't done a whole lot with her life. Still living in her dad Stan's (Gary Cole) basement, still sporting her daily uniform of a Team USA gym suit with teeny-bopper bangs, ponytail and scrunchie, she spends her days at the mall milking her minor celebrity for free food and favors.

Hope's routine is upended when she learns that she must coach Amherst's newest gymnastics prodigy Maggie (Haley Lu Richardson) in order to receive a sizable financial inheritance. The hard-edged yet insecure Hope is faced with a serious dilemma: does she jeopardize her "hometown hero" status by devotedly training this rising star to achieve the dreams she never could? Or does she attempt to sabotage the impressionable Maggie to ensure that she remains the one and only star in Amherst?"

I was one of the few who gave the film a decent score, but we'll see what the other judges say when The Bronze opens on March 18th.

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First Red Band Trailer for Melissa Rauch's Gymnastics Comedy 'The Bronze'

I hold the Sundance debuting gymnastics comedy The Bronze somewhat close to my heart. Not because it's particularly good or anything...frankly, it's merely alright. But that I was one of the very few who gave it a halfway positive review (it stands at 13% on Rotten Tomatoes) has earned me a share of harsh criticism from colleagues who busted it up worse than Kerri Strug's ankle. So what will you think of it? Well, the first red band trailer has taken the floor and you can begin to judge it for yourself.

Starring and co-written by The Big Bang Theory's Melissa Rauch, the story centers on a former bronze medal-winning Olympic gymnast desperate to milk her glory forever. Fame has turned her into a bitter ex-celebrity in her small town, but she's forced to fight for her status when a hot young gymnast rises in the ranks.

This trailer shows off the film's greatest asset, Rauch herself, and if there's any reason to rush out to see it she's it.  Also starring Thomas Middleditch, Gary Cole, Sebastian Stan, Cecily Strong, and Haley Lu Richardson, The Bronze opens March 11th 2016.

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Sundance Review: 'The Bronze' starring Melissa Rauch

Women's gymnastics is a cutthroat sport; not like figure skating where the ladies occasionally bash one another with lead pipes, but it's still pretty ugly. The girls, because that's what they really are, get worked to death in order to attain a measure of perfection that must extend to their daily lives. Win and you'll be a hero...for awhile, but you're considered old long before the age of 20 ever hits. And then what? In Melissa Rauch's dark comedy The Bronze it leads to a case of terminal arrested development worthy of a gold medal, although the film itself is maybe funny enough to earn...well, a bronze.

Rauch, who stars on CBS' The Big Bang Theory, plays Hope Ann Greggory, a gymnast who snapped her achilles during the 2004 Olympics and hung in there, Kerri Strug-style, to stick an impossible landing and earn a bronze medal. It made her an instant celebrity and national hero, but years later she's bitter as Hell with nothing to show for her past accomplishments. She lives at home with her lonely father Stan (Gary Cole) and basks in her former glories. The well-worn tape of her Olympic feat is masturbation material for the most part, and Hope cashes in on her fame for cheap sex and free food. Worst of all, she's a complete snot to her father and everyone she knows, which includes Maggie Townsend (Haley Lu Richardson), the hot young gymnast expected to be an Olympic champ.

While the show pony world of gymnastics is begging to be ripped in satirical fashion, Rauch's screenplay doesn't analyze the sport so much as use it as a backdrop to explore a life in a comical state of crisis. The problem is that Hope's life isn't all that humorous, it's just kind of pathetic, and too often Rauch goes overboard in trying to find laughs where there are none. When Hope's former trainer commits suicide, she's compelled to become Maggie's new trainer all the way through championships and earn $500,000. Does she train Maggie and see her position as town superstar supplanted? Or does she sabotage her efforts and risk losing the money? A few dozen hamburgers and milkshakes later and Hope is well on her way to derailing Maggie's career, which is funny to watch but doesn't exactly endear her to you in any way. The redemptive course she embarks on, because there inevitably has to be one, is complicated by the arrogant Lance Tucker (Sebastian Stan), a past champ and fling who Hope shares a love/hate relationship with. The two share one fantastically bizarre sexual encounter that must be like every gymnast's wet dream. The gym rings have never been put to such good use. It's a great scene that shows director Bryan Buckley's visual inventiveness and Rauch's commitment to a pretty raunchy role. The problem is that it never quite becomes engaging until she sparks a genuinely sweet but rocky romance with Ben (Thomas Middleditch), nicknamed "Twitchy" because of frequent and unexplained spasms. Middleditch gets some good mileage out of Twitchy's condition but he finds some solid chemistry with Rauch and gives the film a hopeful touch it sorely needed.

The Bronze never quite comes together as the laugh-out-loud riot some had pegged it to be heading into Sundance, and while it stumbles through the routine much of the way it just manages to stick the landing.

Rating: 3 out of 5

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