The Superman Hoax

The NBA Slam Dunk Contest has been underwhelming for some time despite sporadic flashes of inspiration. It seems that the well of invention which nurtures the competition has, for the most part, dried up. Last night, a quartet of young dunkers took part in this year’s competition, with the Orlando Magic’s freakishly muscular Dwight Howard taking the crown. In my opinion, although Dwight had some nice dunks, there was nothing earth-shattering in his arsenal; nothing like Vince’s elbow nonsense or Jason Richardson’s twisting impossibility of a dunk. Yet, when his time came, Dwight pulled off his jersey and literally revealed a Superman emblem on his chest, while his teammate Jameer Nelson helped him put on a cape. The crowd, which had been ho-humming it up to that, went positively apesh*t. I feel that this had more to do with the need for light-hearted theatrics than an actual appreciation for the mechanics of dunking. Dwight pretty much had the title sown up as soon as he pulled out that cape.

Now, excuse the jarring segue, but this reminded me of a slew of “good” movies I’ve watched recently. I saw “There Will Be Blood” and “No Country for Old Men”, the two Oscar front-runners. Both films featured awe-inspiring performances from Daniel Day-Lewis and Javier Bardem, respectively. Both are well-written and well-directed. And I regretted seeing both, because they left me thoroughly depressed. The bleakness of these two films encapsulated the latest in a long list of unfortunate viewing choices I’ve made. In the past two weeks I’ve watched Charlie Wilson’s War, Rendition and the excellent documentary No End in Sight. All these are fine films. All these made me want to kill myself.

Upon reflection, I guess the first two films’ utter darkness, coupled with the latter triumvirate’s reminders of the stark realities of current events, were just too much for my tender, sensitive (albeit very manly) psyche. Why was I doing this to myself? Wasn’t I just supposed to be entertaining myself? Suddenly my uppity criticism of my dad’s TV and movie choices (Cybill anyone? For real…) seemed like nonsense. I needed some lightheartedness. SuperBad seemed like it was released in the mid-nineties…eons ago. I found myself eagerly awaiting Will Ferrell’s Semi-Pro (If you haven’t seen his Old Spice ads…)

In the midst of this glum state of mind I popped The Hoax into my DVD player. I was never a fan of Richard Gere, and I hesitated…I almost took out the DVD and went back to Cities of Salt (itself not exactly Will Ferrell territory)… But then I watched. And for the first time in a while, I was glad. This film is exactly what I was looking for. Richard Gere should have been nominated for an Oscar. It turned out to be a smart, funny, engrossing true story which involves a violence-free crime. And not a terrorist in sight.