Tonight, well, last Friday night (by the time I finish this), I had to get a CT scan. After ingesting the dye/delicious lemonade, I was finally summoned to the inner depths of the hospital. On our walk, the nurse half turned to me and very casually explained that my just-downed tasty beverage was only one of the dyes they needed. I was going to have to get another intravenously. Okay, fine. She then adds, matter-of-factly, It's going to feel like you're peeing your pants. But, you won't be actually peeing your pants. Hmm. Sounds good. Anyway, I get on the table, get my IV, slide quietly into the vast machine. And as I hear the slight whirring of modern medicine, I begin to feel a very strange sensation in the ol' crotchal region. Almost as if just my junk was being abducted by aliens. It was this exact moment where I thought, well, with two kids I probably don't even need it anymore.
Steven Soderbergh's Side Effects isn't about f--king, but it is about getting f--ked over. Pick a character in this sordid tale of depression and the drug industry, and at some point, they get completely screwed. In fact, you might feel a bit violated too, by the time the credits roll. It gets a little bit, um, crazy by the end.
Yet another man I find probably too interesting, Jude Law steadily anchors director Steven Soderbergh's (for now) selesai theatrical release. I've loved Lemony Snicket since he was Dickie Greenleaf. This guy, for my money, never disappoints.
Here, Law plays Dr. Jonathan Banks, a seemingly well-meaning and generally likable psychiatrist. Banks gets a new patient, the despondent Emily, played by the lovely Rooney Mara. Apparently, Emily isn't coping well with her husband's recent release from prison. As he acclimates himself back into society, she begins to withdraw altogether. With intermittent success as treatment rolls along, Banks recommends a new experimental drug to Emily. And from there, a seemingly straightforward psychological maniacally laughs in the face of the old 'double-cross' and opts for something closer to a triple cross. Maybe even a quadruple. Honestly, by the end, I was so hepped up on goofballs, I had no idea what was going on.
I haven't seen enough of Soderbergh's fringe stuff to say that I'm a hardcore fan, but I definitely enjoy his work. Side Effects comfortably falls into the mainstream section of his portfolio. Sure, it's no Ocean's Eleven, but it sure as shit isn't Bubble, either. Like much of his work, Side Effects has got a great ensemble cast and tells a layered story. But here, the presentation is completely accessible. This film is shot and scripted like a regular Hollywood flick, not a hidden-camera show staged by the world's best cinematographers. I have always appreciated the chances that he takes. For me, backing off some of the less-traditional stuff, really pays off here.
Speaking of less-traditional pay offs, here are the Yays and Boos. And while I never take any pills, these two have been downing Zoloft like Raisinets. They're worried I'm shutting this whole endeavor down when the baby comes. That's funny, because my wife's concern is the opposite.
Steven Soderbergh's Side Effects isn't about f--king, but it is about getting f--ked over. Pick a character in this sordid tale of depression and the drug industry, and at some point, they get completely screwed. In fact, you might feel a bit violated too, by the time the credits roll. It gets a little bit, um, crazy by the end.
Yet another man I find probably too interesting, Jude Law steadily anchors director Steven Soderbergh's (for now) selesai theatrical release. I've loved Lemony Snicket since he was Dickie Greenleaf. This guy, for my money, never disappoints.
Here, Law plays Dr. Jonathan Banks, a seemingly well-meaning and generally likable psychiatrist. Banks gets a new patient, the despondent Emily, played by the lovely Rooney Mara. Apparently, Emily isn't coping well with her husband's recent release from prison. As he acclimates himself back into society, she begins to withdraw altogether. With intermittent success as treatment rolls along, Banks recommends a new experimental drug to Emily. And from there, a seemingly straightforward psychological maniacally laughs in the face of the old 'double-cross' and opts for something closer to a triple cross. Maybe even a quadruple. Honestly, by the end, I was so hepped up on goofballs, I had no idea what was going on.
I haven't seen enough of Soderbergh's fringe stuff to say that I'm a hardcore fan, but I definitely enjoy his work. Side Effects comfortably falls into the mainstream section of his portfolio. Sure, it's no Ocean's Eleven, but it sure as shit isn't Bubble, either. Like much of his work, Side Effects has got a great ensemble cast and tells a layered story. But here, the presentation is completely accessible. This film is shot and scripted like a regular Hollywood flick, not a hidden-camera show staged by the world's best cinematographers. I have always appreciated the chances that he takes. For me, backing off some of the less-traditional stuff, really pays off here.
Speaking of less-traditional pay offs, here are the Yays and Boos. And while I never take any pills, these two have been downing Zoloft like Raisinets. They're worried I'm shutting this whole endeavor down when the baby comes. That's funny, because my wife's concern is the opposite.
Yaaaaaaaay!
- Clearly, I love me some Jude Law. But even better? Utterly vindictive Jude Law.
- Rooney Mara. So elegant. Damn.
- Moving on...how about the look on Mrs. Banks' face when Emily shows up before her interview! Priceless.
- Speaking of good looks, glad Officer Beahan had his eyes open. That could've been nasty.
- Welcome back, her sex drive. Seems we've all missed you. Even us in the audience.
- Oh man, that scene Dr. Banks records? F--king awesome.
- As was that little meeting between former psychiatrist and patient. Though the only thing shrinking was the available room. In my pants.
- So juvenile...anyway...the selesai Yay, goes to Soderbergh himself. If this guy truly retires from making movies, let me, an idiot with a laptop, firmly tip my cap in his direction. This is a guy I truly respect, and I genuinely look forward to seeing every single one of his movies some day.
Booooo!
- I wish there was a given situation that I could just kick ass in. For example, when Banks' stepson wakes up with a bad dream? Let's just say, it's handled.
- My wife did a little jump/shriek combo twice during this one. One involved a car. The other? Magic Mike. This is only a Boo because I thought either scene might induce labor, thereby not allowing me to finish the film in its entirety.
- Turns out, being attractive is actually a huge detriment in a massive legal shit-storm. Phew. Glad I'm in education.
- As much as I adore Soderbergh, I honestly think he always lets one or two weak links wiggle their way into his ensembles. Here, I'm pointing the finger at Vinessa Shaw, who plays Dr. Banks' wife. Some of her scenes made me want to pop all kinds of anti-depressants.
- And finally, somewhat seriously, I honestly don't understand depression at all. I know it's real, and I know it sucks, but it f--king baffles me. This movie did nothing to help me out either, damn it. I just wanted to shake Emily at first. Then I felt bad. Then? Well....you'll see.