“The Incredible Burt Wonderstone”

3.5 stars

Starring: Steve Carell, Steve Buscemi, Jim Carrey, Olivia Wilde, Alan Arkin, James Gandolfini, Jay Mohr, Mason Cook, Luke Vanek

Rating: PG-13, for profanity, sexual candor, fleeting drug content and dangerous stunts

Comic talents unite for an amusing poke at showcase magicians

By Derrick Bang
Enterprise film critic

Las Vegas magic acts — with their glitzy, overwrought buffoonery — are ripe for parody, and director Don Scardino attacks this subculture with verve, in “The Incredible Burt Wonderstone.”

Armed with a witty script that hits most of the right notes, Scardino demonstrates his own gift for prestidigitation, by shaping a gaggle of scene-stealing camera hogs into a well-balanced ensemble comedy troupe. That’s no small thing, when dealing with the likes of Steve Carell, Steve Buscemi and Jim Carrey, any one of whom could ruin a project by being too uninhibited … and all have done so, in the past (in Carrey’s case, rather frequently).

Not this time. Scardino keeps his stars on point while also drawing deft supporting performances from Alan Arkin, James Gandolfini and Olivia Wilde. The latter, in particular, demonstrates an unexpected talent for comic timing that was nowhere to be seen in her token hottie roles in “Tron: Legacy” and “Cowboys & Aliens.” Given her work here, Wilde actually may have an acting career in her future.

The biggest miracle, though, is that this film’s script manages to stay reasonably well focused — and dead-on perceptive, as it skewers Vegas’ wretched excess — despite being a committee affair from four writers: Jonathan M. Goldstein, John Francis Daley, Chad Kultgen and Tyler Mitchell.

Gentlemen, my black top hat’s off to you.

The story opens with a brief prologue in the early 1980s, as latchkey kid Burt (Mason Cook) celebrates a birthday by himself, forced by his working mother’s absence to bake his own cake (a droll and endearing touch that hints of great things to come). His one present: a celebrity magic set that will evoke strong memories from viewers who remember being a kid back in that era, when Marshall Brodien — as Wizzo the Wizard —hawked his “TV Magic Kit” of “mystifying tricks” on syndicated stations.

In this case, young Burt is awestruck by the kit’s videotape, wherein tuxedo-garbed Rance Holloway (Arkin) promises that magic can change one’s life. Burt, enchanted, starts pulling scarves out of thin air; his school time antics attract the attention of the similarly geeky — and bullied — Anton (Luke Vanek). The two become fast friends, energized by a desire to invent newer, fresher and ever more amazing tricks.

Flash-forward a couple of decades, as Burt Wonderstone (Carell) and Anton Marvelton (Buscemi) have become hot newcomers on the Vegas stage magic scene. Their enthusiasm and crowd-pleasing skills draw the attention of Bally’s mogul Doug Munny (Gandolfini), who grants them a headlining showroom.

Another 10-year leap to the present day, and things have turned sour. Oh, sure, Burt and Anton still pack the house, but the opulent illusions have become rote — repeated day after day, week after week, year after year — and the staunch friendship has frayed.

Actually, it has torn to shreds, thanks to Burt’s insufferably egotistical behavior. Having decided that he’s the entire act — not to mention God’s gift to women — Burt has become a grotesque parody of himself. Magic no longer matters, nor does the “sense of wonder” that sparked his own youthful enthusiasm, so many years ago.

All this is observed with great sadness by Jane (Wilde), a backstage assistant dragged before the crowd one evening, to replace yet another nubile blonde unwilling to tolerate Burt’s behavior any longer. Jane also loves magic — the proper way, hence her presence on the staff — but Burt couldn’t care less. To him, she’s just another potential score.

Crisis erupts with the flamboyant, camera-hogging arrival of Steve Gray (Carrey), an arrogant, weirdly theatrical “guerilla magician” very much in the mold of David Blaine and Criss Angel. Gray’s gory, stunt-laden shtick is more ghastly circus sideshow than genuine magic, but he definitely knows how to win and control a crowd. And that, to Munny, spells money.

Wonderstone isn’t capable of modifying his moldy act; more to the point, he rejects the need to do so. A freak such as Steve Gray couldn’t possibly be the next best thing.

When the dust settles, Wonderstone is alone, unemployed and living in a shabby hotel room. And wondering how it all went wrong.

Scardino capably navigates this delectable premise while savagely skewering its many deserving targets. Costume designer Dayna Pink outfits Wonderstone in the hilariously tacky, chest-baring garb with which we’ve long associated Siegfried & Roy; Burt and Anton’s deliberately corny, story-driven act mostly wastes time while occasionally pausing for the sort of big-big-big illusions beloved by Lance Burton and David Copperfield. (The latter briefly appears in a droll cameo.)

The elevator to Burt’s penthouse home is large enough to be the suite itself, and when Munny embraces his own grand plan to open a new casino, he naturally names it after himself, grinning broadly from a multi-story video screen that beckons passersby to enter.

Gray’s self-abusing, over-the-top stunts are funny because — as Criss Angel’s fans know — they’re not all that exaggerated; Carrey, in turn, nails the lofty attitude and weirdly egotistical patter of such an individual. Indeed, this is by far the best performance Carrey has given in years, and it’s nice to see him back to form.

His penetrating, ferociously manic gaze never has been put to better use.

But the ripe satire, so well set up and delivered, wouldn’t have nearly the bite without the genuine heart that rides alongside. Buscemi’s Anton is a gentle guy who has put up with a lot over the years, and can’t understand how his longtime “best friend” could treat him so badly. Carrey’s Gray, at the other end of the spectrum, is a nasty piece of work: a smug, vicious opportunist who smells blood in the water, and wants to humiliate Wonderstone even more than he wants his own headlining career.

Carell swans his way through Wonderstone’s puffed-up behavior, somehow believing that every emotional failing — every thoughtless, self-centered act or gesture — somehow is a virtue. Wonderstone is the one character who might be too broad at times, notably when he and Marvelton attempt their own street stunt, but Scardino mostly remains on the right side of that razor’s edge separating astute humor from merely stupid slapstick.

More to the point, Carell has the range to switch from broad overstatement to softer pathos; we’ve seen the latter in “Crazy, Stupid, Love” and “Dan in Real Life.” Carell makes us believe that Wonderstone is worth saving.

Arkin further spices the brew, when a much older Rance Holloway pops up in the third act, as a resident in a retirement home for Vegas performers. This is roughly when the story shifts tone, blossoming into an underdog redemption saga with clearly defined heroes and villains.

Holloway’s insistence on the “purity” of magic, particularly close-up magic, obviously requires a certain amount of same in this film. Many (most?) of the illusions are assisted by camera trickery and CGI sweetening, but we are blessed with a few moments of coin/card manipulation and authentic sleight-of-hand. I particularly enjoyed the golf ball routine that Holloway and Wonderstone share with the retirement home residents.

With so many disparate elements, all sorts of things could have gone wrong en route to the finished film … but Scardino pulls it off, with a warm, funny and genuinely entertaining result. And that, too, is quite a trick.

— Read more of Derrick Bang’s film criticism at http://derrickbang.blogspot.com. Comment on this review at www.davisenterprise.com

“Argo”

4.5 stars

Starring: Ben Affleck, Bryan Cranston, Alan Arkin, John Goodman, Victor Garber, Tate Donovan, Clea DuVall

Rating: R, for profanity and dramatic intensity

Truth really is stranger than fiction.

The events depicted in “Argo” wouldn’t be believed in a novel; the wild ’n’ crazy premise defies credibility. And yet this bizarre CIA mission actually took place during the Iranian hostage crisis; indeed, it was a rare burst of sunlight during the 444 grim days that Islamist students and militants held 52 captives in Tehran’s American Embassy.

“Argo” can be placed alongside 1995’s “Apollo 13,” as a thoroughly engrossing drama that loses none of its tension despite our knowing the outcome. Chris Terrio’s script blends established fact with third-act dramatic license and some unexpectedly droll dialogue; yes, it’s possible to derive humor from these life-and-death events.

The package is assembled with directorial snap by Ben Affleck, who also grants himself the plum role of Antonio “Tony” Mendez, the CIA “exfil” (exfiltration) specialist charged with a real-life impossible mission. Affleck — as director — capably introduces the key players and sets up the plot elements, slides into a scheme as audacious as any caper thriller ever concocted by Hollywood, and then tightens the screws until the tension is unbearable.

The film opens with a prologue, depicted in movie-style storyboards, that outlines the post-WWII American “meddling” that restored Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi to power in Iran in 1953. Although a well-protected monarch for the next quarter-century, the shah was recognized in his own country as little more than an American puppet; he eventually was deposed in February 1979 by a revolution that led to the return of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini.

The fractured relationship between the United States and Iran worsened as that year progressed, then splintered entirely when the despised shah — ill with cancer — was admitted to the United States for treatment at the Mayo Clinic. Two weeks later, on Nov. 4, an enraged mob broke through the American Embassy gates, stormed the building and orchestrated the stand-off that kept us — and much of the world — glued to news channels for the next 14 months.

Affleck begins his film at this point, and the powder-keg build-up to the embassy storming is deeply unsettling. The American efforts at damage control — and document destruction — are akin to spitting in the wind. Then comes the detail often forgotten when we recall these ghastly events: Although the aforementioned 52 Americans are captured quickly, six others manage to slip away in the confusion; they’re given shelter — and concealment — in the home of Canadian Ambassador Ken Taylor (Victor Garber).

The situation is precarious: The Iranians soon realize that the six embassy people are missing, although their identities remain unknown … for the moment.

Back in the States, Mendez is summoned by Jack O’Donnell (Bryan Cranston), the assistant deputy director of the CIA. Mendez watches as various analysts, having been made aware of the six stranded Americans, blue-sky some truly ludicrous rescue suggestions, each one dumber than the last. (You gotta love the plan to bicycle out of Iran.)

Then Mendez uncorks something even more audacious.

“You don’t have a better bad idea than this?” he’s incredulously asked.

“This is the best bad idea we have,” Mendez replies. “By far.”

Affleck gives that line just the right reading. It’s funny … but our laughter is strained, because we recognize the need for desperate measures.

Mendez understands a core truth: Everybody bends over backwards for a film crew on a location shoot, even during times of political crisis. Mendez also has an ace up his sleeve: an association with John Chambers, a veteran Hollywood makeup specialist who won an honorary Academy Award in 1968, for his work on “Planet of the Apes,” and also exercised his extensive talents on television’s original “Star Trek.”

On the side, unknown to his Tinseltown friends, Chambers also applied his skills to governmental intelligence operations.

Chambers is played, with oversized verve, by John Goodman. It’s a plum role to begin with, and Terrio feeds the actor plenty of deliciously snarky dialogue. Indeed, Goodman would run away with the film, were it not for the third key player in what becomes a fascinating Hollywood charade: Lester Siegel (Alan Arkin), a legendary movie mogul brought in to legitimize the plan.

Arkin and Goodman may be the best Mutt ’n’ Jeff tag team ever caught on camera; they’re simply hilarious together, even as events in Iran escalate from tense to nail-biting.

Siegel is Terrio’s one fabrication: a composite character drawn from various movie colony types. Although Siegel is considered past his sell-by date, he’s no less feisty and committed to the power of The Big Lie. And the scheme is heaven-sent to such a colorful, blustery individual: Siegel’s last big hurrah will be a film that doesn’t really exist … but could save six lives.

Because that’s what “Argo” is: a wholly fabricated Studio Six science-fiction spectacular and “cosmic conflagration,” set on a distant, arid planet, which blends the then-ubiquitous formula of spaceships, aliens, action and stalwart young heroes rescuing otherworldly maidens. If this wholly fictitious production can be granted the imprimatur of authenticity, then Mendez can fly into Iran — as a Studio Six co-producer — and return with the six members of his Canadian location-scouting film crew.

Simply, utterly mad.

Affleck (as director) and editor William Goldenberg smoothly cut between simultaneous events: the Hollywood efforts to raise awareness of “Argo” and Studio Six; the fraying nerves of the six Americans who dare not be seen outside Ambassador Taylor’s home; and the massive Iranian effort to piece together shredded documents, in order to identify those same six people.

Since Mendez initially is surrounded by such flamboyant actors — Cranston’s O’Donnell is just as richly theatrical as Arkin and Goodman — Affleck wisely modulates his performance in the other direction. His take on Mendez is cool and collected: a patch of calm in an otherwise turbulent ocean. It’s a crucial reading, because it lends conviction to Mendez’s insistence — when he eventually outlines this crazy scheme to the six dubious Americans — that yes, he can pull this off.

Affleck and Terrio build to a stunner of a third act, and here the split-second timing begins to feel a bit Hollywood-esque. But you’re unlikely to care; when the overall package is this accomplished, it’s easy to forgive minor detours from the path of absolute truth.

In five short years, and over the course of three films — starting with “Gone Baby Gone” and “The Town” — Affleck has demonstrated increasingly skilled directorial chops. “Argo” is the sort of industry-themed project that inevitably draws Oscar attention; that would be another well-deserved feather in the cap of the talented writer/director/producer/actor who first hit our radar when he shared an Academy Award for scripting “Good Will Hunting.”

Frankly, I can’t wait to see what Affleck does next.

— Read more of Derrick Bang’s film criticism at derrickbang.blogspot.com. Comment on this review at www.davisenterprise.com