Movie Box Review

Previously... On HOUSE OF LIES:  Marty Kaan (Don Cheadle) and his "pod" of associate management consultants (Kristen Bell, Ben Schwartz, Josh Lawson) travel the country, putting out fires for their high-powered clients while enjoying their lack of principles.  

Episode 2:  The second episode, written by series creator Matthew Carnahan, suggests that House of Lies won't be putting much effort into continuing storylines.  The idea seems to be more of a procedural approach, with a crisis-of-the-week solved by the regular characters.  This week, the Pod went to Phoenix, where they brokered a deal between the local NBA owner and his estranged wife that was clearly inspired by the McCourts and Dodgers in LA.

The  "plot," as such, was undeveloped and not particularly engaging, just another opportunity for Marty to prove he's the smartest guy in the room.  What was more interesting was spending considerably more time with the other Pod members.  Doug (Lawson), despite his Harvard degree, proved himself a fumbler with the ladies, as evidenced by an extended cameo encounter with Cat Deeley as herself that ended embarrassingly for Doug.  Clyde (Schwartz) is the fast-talking, more aggressive hustler.  And Jeannie (Bell), also no winner romantically (in this episode, she thought an old college friend was pursuing her, when actually he was just a headhunter offering her a job), has an ambiguous relationship with Marty, who killed the new job offer and wanted her to know it, somewhat to her satisfaction.

Those are all decent threads to be picked up as the season progresses.  On the home front, it turned out Marty's hate sex with his ex-wife/competitor (Dawn Olivieri) wasn't a unique event, but something they seemingly do regularly.  And the storyline featuring Marty's ambivalently gendered son (Donis Leonard, Jr) continues to feel like a refugee episode from Glee.

House of Lies, with its constantly scheming protagonists, is a good stylistic match with Showtime's other Sunday shows Shameless and Californication.  Compared to them, it lacks emotional depth and, seemingly, much interest in having any.  It does have a sparkling cast, however--Ben Schwartz was particularly effective in this episode--and that, along with a certain verve, may keep it at least moderately entertaining.

Showtime took a major step forward this season with its gripping new drama series Homeland, a show worthy of being mentioned with anything on TV.  The network's new comedy HOUSE OF LIES, though, is considerably less of an event.

The setting may be the world of management consulting rather than show business, but based on its pilot, House of Lies is trying too hard to copy its hour-mate Californication.  Don Cheadle has the David Duchovny unprincipled-but-talented role, playing Marty Kaan; it's no accident that his last name is pronounced like "con," because Marty's consulting business is essentially a con game--he manipulates jargon and statistics to tell huge companies what they want to hear in a way they're not expecting, and rakes in their cash.  In the pilot, he finds a way to spin a Wall Street firm's desire to justify its huge bonuses despite the recession, so that they'll look socially conscious even as they're buying yachts.  Marty is cynical and more than a little soulless, but he's our hero because he also has a breezy sense of humor and great charm.  (And because he's played by Don Cheadle.)

Marty has a team (he calls it the "pod") of young colleagues:  Jeannie (Kristen Bell), who's lovely and who, inevitably, Marty wants to sleep with (for now, at least, they merely exchange flirtatious banter); Doug (Josh Lawson), who went to Harvard; and Clyde (Ben Schwartz), who didn't.  So far Marty is the only character with a back-story:  he lives with his retired shrink father (Glynn Turman) and his young son (Denis Leonard, Jr), who's experiencing gender issues (in the pilot, we know he's potentially gay because he wants to play Sandy in a school production of Grease and go shoe-shopping).  Marty's token bit of depth comes with the disclosure that his mother committed suicide, although at this point we don't know anything about the circumstances.  Meanwhile, the show features the ever-popular contrivance of Marty's ex-wife (Dawn Olivieri) also being his most ferocious competitor in the consulting trade, as well as a terrible mother, a pill-popper and Marty's sometime bed partner.

House of Lies was created by Matthew Carnahan (based on a novel by Martin Kihn), who was previously the creator of Skin, the similarly cynical show about tabloid journalism with Courtney Cox that stumbled through a couple of seasons on FX.  Carnahan's work here is glib and superficial in a way that's moderately entertaining, but so far not emotionally involving at all.  Unlike Californication, there are no bonds of believable friendship between the characters, and nothing to compare to the thread of doomed romance between Duchovny's character and Natascha McElhone's that has always given that show its center.  Carnahan's plotting in the pilot seems aimed more at finding spots for gratuitous pay cable sex (a strip club is a key location for the episode, and a key plot point requires 2 of the female characters to jump each others' bones within about 30 seconds of meeting) than anything else. which is another unwise attempt to ape Californication's free-wheeling softcore style.

The one thing House of Lies clearly has going for it is its cast.  Cheadle, of course, is one of the best character actors around, skilled at comedy and drama, and he's capable of holding audience affection no matter how much of a snake Marty is.  (One of the show's more effective gimmicks is letting Marty step out of scenes to explain the consulting business directly to viewers.)  It's a pleasure to see Kristen Bell back playing a character with sharp, witty dialogue after her disastrous attempts to become a movie star, while Ben Schwartz has been hysterical as Jean-Ralphio on Parks & Recreation, and is clearly capable of doing more than the pilot allows.   

House of Lies has plenty of potential.  It's a smooth piece of work (the pilot was directed by Stephen Hopkins), painless to watch, with likable leads and a decent premise.  What it needs, though, is something to be about other than its own dexterity.

I don't know that there's an actor in movies today more fun to watch than Brendan Gleeson.  Gleeson is probably best known for playing Mad-Eye Moody in several of the Harry Potter movies, but he's been giving sensational performances since John Boorman's The General, and has popped up in Hollywood pictures like Braveheart, AI, Gangs of New York and Green Zone. He's a throwback, in a way, to the old-time Charles Laughton kind of actor, not because he's also a big guy, settled in his flesh, but because he lets his joy in the art of acting inform his performances.  His work, even in very serious roles, puts a smile on your face.

In THE GUARD, Gleeson plays Sergeant Gerry Boyle, a genially unprofessional policeman in a small Irish town.  Boyle isn't corrupt, exactly, but he mostly doesn't give a crap, not about solving crimes and certainly not about following procedure.  (He's perfectly content to let a speeding car go by his observation post until it crashes off a nearby road.)  Boyle doesn't just frequent prostitutes, he imports them from Dublin for cheerfully elaborate fantasies (the girls are the cops).  He finds his own insistent political incorrectness hilarious, and he's a thorn in the side of just about anyone who has to deal with him.

Luckily for audiences, the person who has to deal with him most is another sterling actor:  Don Cheadle as FBI Agent Wendell Everett.  Everett, who hails from Wisconsin by way of the Ivy League, comes to town to hunt a $500M cocaine shipment (or maybe it's $200M--everyone knows the cops exaggerate street value),and he's as horrified by every sentence that comes out of Boyle's mouth as he is disgusted by his work ethic; naturally, this is a buddy comedy.  

Watching Gleeson and Cheadle banter John Michael McDonagh's dialogue back and forth is like witnessing a Wimbledon championship match--each actor knows exactly how far he can push his character's eccentricities, and each is a master at squeezing the maximum amount of sly juice out of every line.  Boyle deliberately provokes Everett just for the sport of it, and Everett knows he's being played, but can't help himself from responding; it's predictable, and irresistible  If the Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote had repartee, it might sound like this.

As a movie, The Guard is a fairly insubstantial riff on the Guy Ritchie Lock, Stock and 2 Smoking Barrels/Snatch black comic thriller mode.  (It even features Mark Strong, a Ritchie stalwart, as one of the villains.)  The picture doesn't have the meat of In Bruges, a comic thriller that starred Gleeson with Colin Farrell a few years ago, and which was written and directed by this McDonagh's brother, the celebrated playwright Martin.  John Michael M  hadn't directed a feature before, and his action chops are rudimentary., although the photography by Larry Smith (he shot Eyes Wide Shut) is very attractive  McDonagh knows enough, though, to stand back and let his actors do their thing with his sharp dialogue, and that's all The Guard really needs.

The Guard plays like the pilot for a TV series you'd instantly program into your DVR--it's a procedural, but perfectly cast.  Gleeson and Cheadle bring style and infinite charm to their every scene, and overall, the movie is tremendously entertaining.  These two need to make another film together, as soon as possible.