Everybody likes comic waif Sarah Silverman because she’s so profane and yet so darn cute. What’s shocking coming from someone like Roseanne is doubly so coming from a doll like Silverman. However, at a certain point shocking material is just that and little else. Her film “Sarah Silverman: Jesus is Magic” suffers from this condition, but not entirely. Sometimes you gasp then laugh, but often you just gasp.
The film consists primarily of Silverman live onstage doing her routine, in which her persona is that of a naively offensive and totally self-centered person who talks a lot about her Nana. Periodically throughout her standup the action switches to a musical number set elsewhere in different costumes. For example, she mentions her beloved Nana and we find ourselves in a nursing home where she is singing a song about how everyone there is going to die soon.
There’s nothing particularly inventive about this. We’ve been subjected to the ironic rock song since Adam Sandler in the ‘90s, or for that matter Weird Al Yankovic in the ‘80s, and I have never found it that hilarious. Her silly ditties do not distinguish themselves, and she is at her best when she’s doing straight stand up.
I’ve read interviews with Silverman and she seems really smart; I really wanted to like this movie. Maybe I was over-thinking it, but I just didn’t laugh that much. I think I’m tired of this anti-politically correct backlash stuff. Can we consider the envelope pushed and move on to something more inventive that’s not just provocative but is thought provoking?
“Sarah Silverman: Jesus is Magic” is currently available to rent.
If you’re looking for an exciting Johnny Depp movie in which he wears a lot of makeup, you are probably better off with the pirate movie than with “The Libertine,” which, despite boasting a scene in which a midget rides a huge phallus on wheels, is otherwise rather slow. Portraying John Wilmot the Earl of Rochester, a 17th century poet whose work would make Sarah Silverman blush, Depp brings his impressive bone structure but no depth to an oddly depressing hedonist.
His character drinks constantly and sleeps with anything that moves. Although a love affair with an actress played by the always excellent Samantha Morton finally gives him something to truly love in his life, we only know that because he says so in the last few minutes of the film, not because he shows us in any preceding scenes. His blasé attitude towards his many unsavory undertakings remains steady throughout and that, combined with a slightly unintelligible accent and the mouthfuls of dialogue, adds up to an unsatisfactory and obscure kind of movie.
While mentoring Morton’s actress character, the Earl is commanded by the king, Charles II (John Malkovich), to write an epic and to become more politically engaged. The resulting play, which features the aforementioned midget, fails to impress the powers that be, and Wilmot must flee. In hiding, he suffers from syphilis and generally deteriorates; the big climax involves his triumphant appearance in the House of Lords. And, as anyone who has seen a film in which the most exciting scene takes place in the House of Lords can tell you, this is not much of a grand finale.
However, this movie is so beautifully shot, in an almost sepia tone through so much fog, that you can watch half the movie before you realize that you’re bored. The edges of the scenes are dark and give the film the appearance of an old photograph. Nevertheless, Depp warns us in an opening monologue that we will not like him, but what we actually feel is worse. What we actually feel is nothing much.
Contact Asia Frey at afrey@lagniappemobile.com.
Archives
The Reel World
