PICK OF THE WEEK: Death Race
Paul W. S. Anderson’s frenzied remake of Paul Bartel’s 1975 flick wisely features Jason Statham doing what he does best—driving hot rods fast and flexing his hot body. Fans won’t be disappointed by these elements; the action sequences are so hyper-kinetic everything else feels like it’s in slow motion, and the camera fetishizes Statham’s washboard abs and muscular back. As for the film itself, well, the story updates the original to the year 2012. Jensen Ames (Statham) is framed for his wife’s murder so he is forced to compete in Death Race, a kill-or-be-killed pay-per-view web event. Ames, who races as the four-time champion Frankenstein, will gain his freedom if he wins, but he is more concerned with getting revenge on his wife’s killer—and serving it up cold. His other enemy is the prison’s baddest ass, Warden Hennessey (Joan Allen, slumming), who has some surprises up the sleeves of her nicely tailored suits. Death Race doesn’t take itself seriously—note the skull stick shifts in one car—but there are morals for those who want to look for them. Most viewers, however, will be transfixed by the transportation that whizzes by, shooting bullets, catching fire, and spinning out of control, not unlike the film itself.

Elegy
A suffocating, slow-moving drama about love, adultery and aging, Elegy is based on Philip Roth’s The Dying Animal, and it deserves a funeral for being dead on arrival. David (Ben Kingsley) is a professor who falls in love with Consuela (Penelope Cruz), a much younger student. Consuela gives meaning to David’s life, and he obsesses about her—her breasts, especially. But he is so embarrassed or ashamed by their May-December relationship he cannot face meeting her family. Meanwhile, David continues his casual sex-only relationship with Carolyn (Patricia Clarkson) and contends with his slightly estranged son Kenny (Peter Sarsgaard, wasted), who shows up to talk about an affair he’s having in a parallel story that goes nowhere. Director Isabel Coixet creates an intimate, moody character study of a privileged man enjoying his privileges but her presentation of the glossy details of David’s regret-tinged life, complete with strains of melancholic piano, is completely pretentious. Kingsley gives an agile performance—David is amusing when he dotes on Consuela or squirms in front of Carolyn—but the idea of him being sobered by loss is nullified by the fact that he is a selfish jerk who does not appreciate what he has. 

Stealing America: Vote by Vote
Dorothy Fadiman’s well-intentioned film explores how voters’ rights are being eroded. But with all the dynamism of a civics lecture, and an unimpassioned narration by Peter Coyote, this important topic is done a major disservice. Fadiman’s point—that not all ballots get counted, or correctly counted—deserves to be heard and responded to by those in power. This post mortem of the 2004 election reveals the problems of long lines, machine shortage and malfunctions, most of which were more effectively covered by newspapers at the time they occurred. The angry voters and viewers may feel after hearing Clint Curtis’s testimony of voter booth tampering or caging—e.g., denying votes to African Americans overseas—is diminished by the repetition of the same points, especially the ones about exit polls inaccurately reflecting the voting results. The reliance on simple (read: dumbed-down) graphics and the “inspirational” music is hokey and insulting, as is the film’s lukewarm call to action. In an election year, this timely topic deserves better treatment.