The Pop Culture Pundit

An Original Film...What a Novelty These Days -- Reflections on "Chronicle" (2012)

2012-02-04T23:06:00.000-08:00

Peter Parker's Evil Twin...

Some people think I have high expectations, and that I’m hard to please. Many say that when it comes to movies, I’m too harsh, too cynical, and too unwilling to just sit back and enjoy the show. My response to that is simple:

All I ask for is a little originality.

That seems like a lot to ask for, but I don’t think it is. I’ve been fortunate to see lots of movies over the years, and I tire of having the same plot lines, same production values, same everything shoved in my face with the expectation from movie studios that I must like it merely because their buzz machine says I have to. It bothers me that last year, nine of the top ten highest grossing films of the year were all sequels; this is symbolic of the death of originality, implying that the safe bet is the only bet worth making at the movie theater. Hollywood is aware that people are struggling financially out there right now and with limited dollars to dispose of, most people are looking for sure fire entertainment. After all, who wants to drop $12.50 on a turd, right? It’s much safer to give that money to The Hangover brand, or the Twilight brand – even if they suck, they’re a known quantity, like McDonald’s and Marlboros.

So far, 2012 has started with a little kick, though, as if the tide is beginning to change. I was incredibly impressed and satisfied with The Grey, and apparently Haywire has done well both commercially and critically. Out this week is the old school haunted house thriller The Woman in Black, which is also getting solid reviews and should do well in the box office on the shoulders of Harry Potter. Usually, January/February is where Hollywood’s flops are buried in the midst of the Oscar season, but this year has been an exception.

And this brings me to the film I am reviewing, Chronicle. All I ask for is a little originality, and with this movie, director Josh Trank and screenwriter Max Landis (son of director John Landis) give us originality in spades, throwing an unique spin on both the superhero and found footage genres. Both of these genres have seemingly hit their tipping points, but Trank and Landis have put together a little gem of a film that breathes life into both and manages to resonate with viewers as well.

Three high schoolers, Andrew (Dane DeHaan), Matt (Alex Russell), and Steve (Michael B. Jordan) make a strange discovery in the woods one night after a rave party and soon find themselves with telekinetic powers. It’s a very traditional superhero premise involving an alien source, but for the first half of the film it is used as a starting point for a character study. Andrew is a withdrawn, angry young man with a dying mother, and a drunk, abusive father. He’s picked on at school, and finally finds solace in videotaping the goings-on in his life, as if doing so makes everything feel like it actually matters. One critic said Andrew is like Peter Parker if Uncle Ben had been an asshole, and that’s about as good an analogy as anyone could make. Matt is more level-headed, but philosophical and trying to deny the fact that popularity is important to him; he is Andrew’s cousin, and their relationship is hot and cold. Unlike the others, Steve exudes confidence, runs for class President, and serves as the glue that holds the group together.

At first, the powers are fun and games for the boys. They play, and test themselves. Eventually they pull some practical jokes that are as funny as they are immature. These are teenagers. But the power they have grows stronger, especially in Andrew, who seems to need it more than the others, and begins to enjoy using it in darker ways.

That’s as much as I’ll spoil, although if you’ve seen the trailer for the movie, you’ll get as much. What makes this movie so fantastic is that it is willing to go down dark avenues, allowing the characters to dictate the action, rather than pulling plot strings to get us to a big climatic showdown. We still get that moment – as is expected from superhero films – but even it does not happen the way we expect. Chronicle earns its grandiose moments in a way many superhero films do not.

Besides the attention to details and characterization, perhaps the film’s most impressive feat is the way in which it incorporates the found footage, shaky-cam aesthetic. Usually, in shaky-cam films, one of the main characters is always outside the action because they are required to hold the camera. This sometimes makes for a stilted narrative, and often – as was the case in Cloverfield – creates some unbelievably illogical moments. Josh Trank effectively turns the camera into a fourth main character in Chronicle, and as Andrew’s powers increase, he begins to use them to move the camera around so he can be in the shot. During sequences such as when the boys discover the joys of flying, this trick turns a cliché scene into something exhilarating. In addition, the camera’s usage also serves as a commentary on the characters. As Andrew becomes more disturbed, he films himself more often, finding a narcissistic streak lacking in the film’s opening scenes. Other camera’s perspectives, from video cameras to iPhones and security cams, are also employed, not always to perfect effect, but definitely more often than not.

There is little to criticize about Chronicle. One of the major subplots gets dropped in the third act, but it’s not critical to the film’s endgame. The characterization of Andrew’s dad sometimes feels a little cartoonish, too, but this is a superhero film – cartoonishness is in its DNA. Any of its faults are immediately erased by what it gets right, and it gets so much right.

So, I might be a bit harsh on films from time to time. My expectations aren’t that high, though. All I ask for is a little originality. Thankfully, Chronicle is an original.

No God Among the Wolves -- Reflections on 'The Grey' (2012)

2012-01-28T17:20:00.000-08:00

Liam Neeson: Existentialist Superhero!

Years ago, I used to be a Christian. I came into the faith right before my second year of college (typically the time in life when most people walk away from theirs), and I remained a Christian for 13 years. I do not regret my time as a believer, nor do I consider it a waste of my life. While I eventually stepped away from the faith, I made a lot of friends, learned a lot about the world, and ultimately learned a lot about myself. I needed to be a Christian for those years in order to be the man I am today, for better or worse.

But step away I did. I walked away for many reasons, but mainly because I could no longer trust talking to an invisible man whose divine powers were supposed to be assisting me. One of the defining characteristics of most Christians is the ability to look at a setback, or a failure, as part of “God’s plan.” If you get cancer, or a child dies unexpectedly, or you lose your job and become homeless, it is all because of God’s design for your life. If you suffer, it is because he loves you, or – if you go to the wrong churches – because you don’t have enough faith. Despite the fact that life is often full of misery, frustration, and challenge, it is taught that God has the power to solve all of your problems and make the world a better place. Yet, it seems he seldom uses this power to benefit anyone specifically (except celebrities, athletes, musicians, and Republicans).

The Grey is a movie about the absence of God. It is an existentialist film in which all that matters is survival. We begin with a man named Ottway (Liam Neeson in a career-defining performance) who is on the brink of suicide the eve before he is set to hop on a plane taking him and a group of oil men to Alaska to drill oil. The plane crashes, Ottway and a few others survive, and quickly discover that they are hopelessly alone in the snowy Alaskan wilderness. Not completely alone, though; there are the wolves. Hungry, angry wolves are on the prowl, and the men find themselves facing a cunning and violent threat. The men mostly embrace Ottway as their de facto leader, and he tries to steer them in the right way to survive. Suddenly, in surviving, Ottway decides that life – no matter how awful – is worth clinging on to.

The movie’s trailers make it seem like a non-stop battle between men and wolves, and while the action in that regard is well shot and edited, the film spends more time developing the relationships between these men. Each has a history, a belief system, a reason to live, and their experiences together test their fortitude and will. Of course, several die, and it is a credit to director Joe Carnahan that he makes each death matter. This is not a horror film; these deaths stay with you, and are not fun.

While the men talk about God, and reflect on his plans, it becomes evident that there is no God to be found in the wilderness. Ottway realizes that if he wants something done, he will just have to do it himself. There will be no invisible hand, no deus ex machina to save the day and rescue him and his fellow survivors. The world is a cold and desolate place, harsh and violent, and there are wolves everywhere, hiding and ready to spring at a moment’s notice; The Grey captures this idea in the wintry landscapes, the glowing blue eyes of the wolves, and the worn, snow-speckled faces of our heroes.

Neeson’s performance is a stand-out, and had this film been distributed just a few weeks earlier, I have no doubt he would be on the Oscar ballot this year. His Ottway is tormented, yet finds strength in fear. No other actor could handle this role.

As I watched the film, I was constantly reminded of my own life, my own journey into dark territories, and my final resolve to walk away from faith. Like Ottway, I came to the realization that I had to do this by myself since no one was coming for me. He is truly an existentialist hero; a man who lives to fight and die on his own terms.

This is a powerful, gut-wrenching film. Like its villains – if you can really call them that – The Grey goes for the throat.

An Interesting Year -- My Favorite Films of 2011

2012-01-27T16:27:00.000-08:00

2011 in film? Depending on the critic, it was either a really awful year, or a phenomenal one. I do my best to see as many new releases as I can, but always manage to miss a large number of movies (this year, notable misses are War Horse, The Artist, The Descendents, and Jack & Jill), so it’s hard for me to say whether it was really good or bad. My impression was somewhere in the middle. Only a handful of movies seemed to distinguish themselves as great, a whole slew of films were good to excellent, and there were several diaper loads of turds as well.

In essence, 2011 was like most other years.

Based on the 70 movies of 2011 I’ve seen (as of this writing), I present to you my top 10 films of the year. The order is alphabetical, like my previous year’s entries, mainly because I hate trying to rank movies of different genres. These were the 10 movies that spoke to me and entertained me more than any others this past year.

50/50

Films about friendship hold a soft spot in my heart (The Fisher King, Lord of the Rings, and Superbad come to mind), and 50/50 immediately made room for itself. It takes a dead genre (the dying of cancer genre) and breathes – cough! – life into it by turning it into a buddy movie. Adam (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) discovers he has a rare spinal tumor and a 50% chance of survival; instead of the cancer being a jaw-dropping, manipulative twist, it becomes an opportunity to discover how a person deals with grief. Adam’s journey is tumultuous, dark, and funny. Kudos to Seth Rogen, who finds more than stoner raunch in Adam’s best friend, Kyle.

Attack the Block
I’m a sucker for kids’ adventure films, like The Goonies and The Monster Squad. Attack the Block, though, goes deeper than its roots in kid adventure would lead you to believe. It gives us seemingly unlikable protagonists, a gang of street thugs in London’s South Side, who begin the film by mugging a defenseless young lady. But as the movie progresses, the boys reveal themselves to be true heroes – especially Moses, played by John Boyega in a career making performance – by standing up against an alien menace. The movie’s tagline reads “Inner City vs. Outer Space,” but don’t let the exploitative, goofy vibe fool you: Attack the Block is one of the year’s best films.

Bridesmaids
I could try to convince you that this movie has cultural importance because of the way to takes the typically male dominated raunchy comedy and puts a unique feminine spin on it. I could try to convince you that Kristin Wiig and Annie Mumalo’s script is Oscar-worthy and that Melissa McCarthy’s performance is one for the ages. But I don’t need to. Bridesmaids was this year’s Hangover, not because of its content, but because of its invention and widespread appeal. It also happens to be a hell of a great movie, with outstanding performances and comedic set pieces. I laughed harder at this than any other comedy this year.

Drive
This was Ryan Gosling’s year, wasn’t it? He was in Crazy, Stupid, Love, Ides of March, and Drive. Drive was, by far, his most challenging role. Not many actors are able to command the audience’s attention in every single scene of a movie while uttering a bare minimum of dialogue, yet Gosling does it here with such ease that at first glance his performance would seem non-existent. That’s the movie’s greatest strength, though. By giving us such a silent, contemplative hero, we become aware of craziness of the plot – which is strong and powerful, punched up by some of the most frightening violence in any movie this year. This is a modern noir, a hard boiled narrative with an existentialist twist.

Hugo
Martin Scorsese pulled a fast one on us with Hugo. We expect the master to make movies about society’s outcasts, punctuated by brilliant violence, foul language, and masterful montages. Instead, we got a movie about one of society’s outcasts, filmed in 3-D, made for the family, and composed as a love letter to movies and movie lovers. Hugo is a great film. No other film this year made me feel as powerfully as this one. I felt like a kid again, re-discovering why I go to movies in the first place…because they are so damn magical!

Midnight in Paris
It’s hard to say Woody Allen has made a comeback this year, since he has made a movie per year since 1968. Yet, he has made a comeback in terms of public awareness and critical acclaim. Midnight in Paris is his best reviewed film since 2000s Match Point, and his highest grossing film since 1987s Hannah & Her Sisters. Not that any of this matters to Allen, who pretty much disavows all of his work once it’s completed. Midnight in Paris is one of his Woody’s best films, period. It’s funny, poignant, and smart. Owen Wilson is the best stand-in for Woody’s nebbish persona since Woody hit his sell-by date. This movie deserves multiple viewings.

Super 8
J.J. Abrams got Steven Spielberg to produce this movie and channeled the spirit of Spielberg’s past glory. Super 8 is a darker version of E.T., in which the kids are seeking a legitimate monster holding their small town in the grip of panic and despair. Of course the special effects are top-notch, but the real surprise of this movie are the performances of the kids (Joel Courtenay, Elle Fanning, and Riley Griffiths). They make us believe the sci-fi happenings going on around them. In addition to being a good sci-fi/horror flick, Abrams makes it personal, as his characters are all budding filmmakers. The joy of filmmaking is evident here, and gives Super 8 all the pathos and warmth other notable 2011 pictures like Hugo and The Artist were trying to achieve.

Tree of Life
A masterpiece. Malick’s film has everything: stunning cinematography, iconic characters, grand themes, the history of mankind, and dinosaurs. He takes a small town family in 1950s Texas and shows their significance in the great scheme of things. It’s pretentious, yet heartfelt and extremely personal. No other film this year dared to do so much and succeeded so powerfully. One of the reasons I love this movie is simply because it has sparked debate among the people that see it. Those that love it, like me, are passionate about it, while those that don’t are equally passionate. Is that the hallmark of a great film? I’m not sure, but it certainly must be one characteristic.

Warrior
I was interested in this film when I saw the trailer for it earlier in 2011, but never imagined that it would ever be on this list. But like both of its protagonists, Warrior was my underdog pick for the top 10. This movie succeeds because of the performances by Joel Edgerton and Tom Hardy, but especially Hardy, who is right up there with Gosling and Bale as one of the best actors of the new generation. These two brothers follow a very predictable road to a final fight, but they make getting there both relevant and emotionally riveting. There was no better ending to a movie this year.

Young Adult
This is a small film, so it will go unnoticed by most awards committees who are looking for sexier movies to lavish with praise and baubles, but it’s every bit as good as any film receiving “Best Picture” consideration. Diablo Cody’s screenplay, about an alcoholic teen fiction writer dead set to destroy the marriage of her high school sweetheart, is dark and daring. Somehow Cody, director Jason Reitman, and actress Charlize Theron found the heart beating in the protagonist’s bosom and made her live, while never sacrificing the venom dripping from her lips. Theron’s performance is flawless, and she is matched by the breakout performance of Patton Oswalt as the geek still trying to deal with high school’s worst torments and humiliations.

What I've Been Watching -- December 2011

2011-12-22T12:28:00.000-08:00

Here's a run down of films I've watched over the last couple weeks that I just couldn't find the time to write full length reviews for. This batch has been a pretty good one for the most part.

Attack the Block (2011) dir.: Joe Cornish ****

Like District 9, Attack the Block gives us a sci-fi story that takes place in an unlikely location – this time, South London, lovingly referred to by its residents as “the block.” Our heroes are a group of teenage thugs, led by the quiet, angry Moses (John Boyega), who discover what appears to be an alien fallen from the sky shortly after mugging a local resident. On the heels of this discovery, the boys find themselves being chased down by a horde of savage aliens while also dealing with cops and the local drug kingpin, Hi-Hatz (Jumayn Hunter). Made on a comparatively low budget, Attack the Block gets the most bang for its buck, mostly out of its clever staging of action scenes and the use of its fine ensemble of young Brit actors. Especially good is Boyega as Moses, whose world-weary eyes communicate more about life in the urban area of London than any documentary could. Like the great genre films, Attack the Block uses its idea to shine a spotlight on more important social issues – my favorite moment takes place during a moment of reprieve from the action, when Moses, very soberly, hypothesizes that these creatures are government created because the all the drugs and crime in the ghetto aren’t killing its residents fast enough. “Cult classic” was a term made for movies like this one.

Beginners (2011) dir.: Mike Mills ****

I imagine it’s because I can sort of relate to this film on a personal level that makes me love it so much. Ewan McGregor plays Oliver, a professional graphic design artist, who discovers after the death of his mother that his old man, Hal (Christopher Plummer), was gay all those years of marriage. Rediscovering his father in the aftermath of tragedy is hard enough, but to also learn that his father is dying of cancer, too, is devastating. Mike Mills’ film could have been a lame, melodramatic soap opera if handled the wrong way, but with this talented cast he is able to craft a film of considerable weight and truth. I love that he begins the film after Hal is dead, causing Oliver to look back as he looks forward and attempts to begin a romantic relationship with Anna (Melanie Laurent). The flashbacks bring resonance to Oliver’s present struggles in a way that is both surprising and inspiring. While my father was not homosexual, I, too, got to know him better after the death of my mother. His subsequent death a few years later left much unsaid and unresolved, but those years we had reconnecting were as important to me as they were to Oliver, and left me just as conflicted. But even if this weren’t a personal movie to me, it would still be one of the year’s best, simply on the performance of Christopher Plummer alone, who shines brightly as Hal. Hal’s liberation and free spirit are inspiring, even as his death sentence looms, reminding us that life isn’t about death, but about being.

Hanna (2011) dir.: Joe Wright ***1/2

This is what action films should be. Cerebral, surprising, and badass. Hanna (Saoirse Ronan) is 16-years old and has been trained by her father (Eric Bana) to be the perfect assassin. Her world is shaken when she finds herself being pursued by government operatives, led by a sinister Cate Blanchett, who are trying to take her into custody. Hanna's escape leads her into the care of a vacationing family, whose presence brings out many repressed feelings and desires in the developing girl. And there's a character twist that I doubt anyone will see coming. This is a fast-paced thrill-ride of a film that gives both Ronan and Blanchett lots of scenery to chew. The action sequences, as directed by unlikely action director Joe Wright (Atonement), are fantastic and gripping. Unlike many action films made these days, the focus is on the actual action, not merely the editing techniques designed to make them seem intense. This is like The Bourne Identity for girls … girls who like to kick the shit out of people.

Margin Call (2011) dir.: J.C. Chandor ***1/2

If Inside Job was the overview exposing Wall Street’s corruption, excess, and blatant disregard for the trust of the American public, then Margin Call is the lacerating example of what went wrong. In the spirit of David Mamet’s Glengarry Glen Ross, it is a closed room story of financial executives under pressure to swindle the American public to save their own skins. A junior analyst is entrusted by his recently fired boss with a file that upon completion reveals that their financial firm will be going belly up as of yesterday. Meetings are called amongst the big wigs and decisions must be made. The tone of the film is dark, the dialogue intentionally ambiguous and philosophical, and the performances sharp and convincing. The film has an all-star cast, including Kevin Spacey, Jeremy Irons, Stanley Tucci, Demi Moore, Paul Bettany and Zachary Quinto. Spacey, in particular, stands out as Sam, a Risk Management specialist who is having one of the worst days of his life, which begins with having to put his dog down and ends with him having to put the American people down. The film would be a tragedy if it wasn’t so goddamn realistic.

Terri (2011) dir.: Azael Jacobs ***1/2

High school is hard, but it’s even harder for a freak. Terri (Jacob Wysocki) is a very fat boy who comes to school in his pajamas. For all intents and purposes, he is a freak; to him, though, they just fit. Regardless, his behavior puts him on the radar of Mr. Fitzgerald (John C. Reilly), the school’s Vice-Principal, who decides to take Terri under his wing and mentor him along with other misfits in the school population. Terri’s conflicts deepen as he becomes involved with a popular girl who has fallen from grace. The story is unpredictable and always rings true. This film’s power comes from its honest performances, especially the newcomer Wysocki, who embodies Terri with a wisdom and keen insight I’ve never seen from a teenager in a film. Terri could easily become a type, but writer/director Azael Jacobs goes to great lengths to ground him in a believable world. Terri is a breath of fresh air.

Straw Dogs (2011), dir.: Rod Lurie **

This remake of Sam Peckinpah’s 1971 film stars James Marsden doing his best Dustin Hoffman impression, and Kate Bosworth as his nagging wife doing her best impression of paint drying. He’s a writer, she’s a TV actress (which would be an improvement for her), and they have come to her hometown in the deep south in order to repair the old homestead after hurricane season, give Marsden time to write a screenplay about the battle of Stalinsgrad, and give the local hicks a chance to revisit their teen lust and rape fantasies set to some bitchin’ Zydeco music. Not much of anyone’s motivations make much sense, meaning that we have to rely mostly on blatant stereotypes to understand everyone. The rednecks are salivating, ignorant, religious zealots in love with football and Southern hypocrisy. Marsden is a Hollywood leftist type, and Bosworth is…well, Bosworth. As I watched this film, I found myself feeling very sorry for Alexander Skarsgaard, who is obviously in this film because of his role as the hot vampire, Eric, in HBO’s True Blood. He is horribly miscast as a good ol’ Southern boy; it is as if the producers didn’t even watch the show, just assuming he’d be a good fit since he is in a show set in bayou country. Regardless, Straw Dogs is forgettable entertainment, as needlessly violent as it is patently dumb.

A Tale of Two Movies -- Reflections on "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" (2011)

2011-12-21T00:22:00.000-08:00

Don't fuck with Lizbeth Salander!

Having read Stieg Larsson’s novel, and having seen the 2009 Swedish film, I went into David Fincher’s version of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo with an equal measure of high hope and dread. Unlike last year’s remake of Let the Right One In, this movie I had been looking forward to all year. Granted, it’s annoying that Hollywood executives think any successful foreign film needs to be remade for unexposed American audiences (with an underlying assumption that American productions are better), especially since the Swedish film was already terrific and featured a career-making performance by Noomi Rapace as the tortured savant Lizbeth Salander, but I was excited nonetheless because of the people involved. Director David Fincher (Fight Club, Se7en, Zodiac, The Social Network) and screenwriter Steven Zaillian (Schindler’s List, Gangs of New York, American Gangster, Moneyball) are two of the best talents in the industry, and the casting of Daniel Craig (a.k.a. James Bond) and relative unknown Rooney Mara seemed inspired. And, of course, the reimagining of Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song” by Trent Reznor and Karen O. that played over the teaser trailer earlier this year whet my appetite like the scent of a Christmas ham.

As I left the theater, though, I found myself just as conflicted as when I sat in my seat. On one hand, Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is an expert mystery/thriller with wonderful performances; on the other, it is cold, frustrating and choppy. I liked it, but I didn’t love it. I wanted to love it, and there is much to love about it, but as I reflect on my experience I realize that I wanted something else. But what, exactly?

While the particulars of this story are very complex and convoluted, it is pretty straightforward. Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig) is a gifted investigative journalist who finds his world crumbling when he loses a libel case brought against him by a multi-national businessman. Blomkvist finds a chance at redemption when a rich old man named Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer) asks him to use those incredible investigative skills to uncover the truth surrounding the 1966 death of Vanger’s beloved niece, Harriet. Blomkvist takes the case and finds himself snared in a labyrinthine mystery.

Help comes in the form of Lizbeth Salander (Rooney Mara), a misanthropic computer hacker and private investigator. Lizbeth is one of the most interesting heroines you will likely ever see on screen. She is rude, ugly (yet remarkably sexy), and angry, but also shrewd, insanely intelligent, and vulnerable. Mara plays her with the restrained anxiety and ferocity of a caged animal, her eyes constantly darting and surveying, her arms and body clenching in anticipation. Lizbeth always appears ready to spring into action. For as independent as Lizbeth is, though, she isn’t. She is a ward of the state, and when her beloved guardian has a stroke, she is forced into the care of a new guardian, Bjurman, whose intentions are not especially pure and noble. If you’ve read the novel, or seen the 2009 film, you know the dark territory this story explores; if not, just know the movie earns its ‘R’ rating.

The best parts of this film involve Lizbeth. It’s obvious David Fincher feels the same. The movie sizzles when Mara is on screen, and her scenes are loaded with intensity and passion. Lizbeth is so interesting on her own that had Blomkvist not been a part of the story, I doubt I would have minded. The weakest parts of the movie are the sequences involving Blomkvist investigating the death of Harriet Vanger. So much of the story is devoted to exposition that the movie often gets bogged down in names, dates, and times. Fincher does his best to deal with these elements by giving us dramatized snapshots of the past, and by using similar techniques to the ones employed in The Social Network that made computer use feel compelling. Nonetheless, in contrast to the more immediate and darker material of Lizbeth’s story, Blomkvist’s tale feels detached and conventional. I really think if Fincher could have found a way to remove the mystery story without offending a rabid fan base for the book that has made it an international bestseller, he would have done so in a heartbeat.

So, basically, what we have is two separate movies. One is a traditional mystery, the other a dark crime story about an intriguing character. Once the two intersect, the mystery story takes over and Lizbeth no longer feels like a main character, but more of a supporting cast member. As frustrating as that is, Mara’s performance is stellar. She disappears into Lizbeth Salander, and her evolution over the last act of the film is startling in its rawness and vulnerability. This is a star making performance.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo definitely frustrated me, but I imagine it will be successful. Most people will go into it not knowing much about the source material – sometimes having less information can make a movie far more enjoyable – and will benefit from it. Fincher’s work is the work of a master craftsman, and the story is thrilling. The performances will be what most people take from it, especially Mara’s, and that is fitting. The movie belongs to her.

A Definite Thrill Ride -- Reflections on "Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol" (2011)

2011-12-18T11:09:00.000-08:00

Crazy, man, crazy...

Does any actor have bigger balls than Tom Cruise? Is any actor crazier? My guess is no. In the best action set piece of the newest Mission: Impossible film, Ghost Protocol, Cruise does his own stunt work as he scales the world’s tallest building, Burj Khalifa in Dubai. Hanging over a mile and half above the ground, Cruise – and his character – seems to be testing the limits of his courage and devotion to the job. It is an extraordinary moment, iconic even, in which reality disappears, the heartbeat accelerates, and the “oh shit” factor increases exponentially. Despite seeing Cruise doing press tours and promoting the film with his typical zeal, there’s a moment as he dangles from the glass tower that life and death might actually hang in the balance.

While I didn’t love Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol, I can’t help but smile as I remember the thrill.

A lot of critics use the term “thrill-ride” to describe action films, and it seems to be the best way to describe this one. Ghost Protocol is a thrill-ride from start to finish, devoting its time to some expertly well-directed and choreographed action pieces. While the Burj Khalifa sequence is worth the price of admission in and of itself, it is by no means the only great one. The film opens with a cleverly staged prison break, features a riveting chase scene through a sand storm, and concludes with a shocking duel in a futuristic parking garage. This film definitely took a kitchen sink approach to the material and the result is inventive and fun.

Tom Cruise returns as IMF agent Ethan Hunt, full of charm and intensity. He and his team, comprised of the comic relief (Simon Pegg), the multi-talented hot chick (Paula Patton), and the mysterious analyst (Jeremy Renner), are hot on the heels of a Russian terrorist (Michael Nyqvist) looking to save mankind by destroying it with stolen nuclear weapon codes and satellites. Is it just me, or has it been a long time since we’ve seen a Russian villain in an action film? This one, of course, is operating independently of his nation, is a mad genius, and the film wisely stays away from letting us hang out with him in his secret lair as he concocts his evil plans. It’s good enough to know he’s a Bad Guy. This film is more about the crazy lengths secret agents will go to in order to save the world.

The only knock against the movie is the way it clumsily handles exposition. The film spends so much time setting up the action that the characters often feel pretty two-dimensional, so in order to give the characters some depth, most of the characterization has to be done through expository dialogue. Characters spend an inordinate amount of time in the movie’s second act discussing their pasts and laying their motivations on the table for everyone to see. The result is some plodding scenes that bog down the propulsive rhythm of the plot. This is no one’s fault – unnecessary exposition is a chronic issue plaguing many action films – and it’s a rare action film (i.e. The Bourne Identity) that is able to effectively balance character development and high-octane action.

Credit director Brad Bird (The Incredibles, Ratatouille), in his first live-action film, for keeping things moving along. His experience with animation shows here, especially in the action sequences, which have a fluidity not hampered by excessive editing. The framing and sequence of his shots revs up the tension and suspense, even though the thin characters haven’t necessarily earned any excessive concern. I’m looking forward to what Bird can do with scripts of a higher caliber.

Nonetheless, if you are looking for a solid, exhilarating action film to enjoy with your family this holiday season, Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol is the film for you. This is a film that hits you like an adrenaline shot, as stunt sequence after stunt sequence do more to put you in the middle of the action than any action film I have seen in recent memory. Like Fast Five earlier this year, Ghost Protocol is a sequel that doesn’t require you having seen the previous movies, amps up the cartoony elements of action and violence, and gives you a hell of an enjoyable ride.

I saw this film in IMAX with the 6-minute trailer for the new Batman film, The Dark Knight Rises. Two thoughts: 1) IMAX makes everything better. Watching the Burj Khalifa sequence on a 72-foot high, 52-foot wide screen was one of the most immersive experiences I've ever had when watching a film. 2) The Dark Knight Rises is going to be one of the best films of 2012 if those first six minutes are any indication. Christopher Nolan has some incredible tricks up his sleeve, and watching an airplane being turned vertical during mid-flight was something I'll never forget.

Death of a High School Queen -- Reflections on "Young Adult" (2011)

2011-12-17T10:24:00.000-08:00

Why do geeks always have to ride shotgun, huh?

Have you ever wondered what happened to all those people you used to know in high school? The popular ones who paraded down the halls like royalty, encouraging the worship of lesser mortals? Maybe you were one of those people – what happened to you? Social networking has sort of eliminated the need for high school reunions to a degree because we can “friend” all those people now, and take a peek into their lives. As cool as that is, though, I’m curious how much social websites encourage and reinforce those myths.

Screenwriter Diablo Cody and director Jason Reitman seem to be wondering this, too, and in their hilarious, scathing new comedy Young Adult, they deliver a movie that makes it clear all those members of high school royalty are just as fucked up as you are. This is a film about how, in many ways, life after high school is even tougher for those Prom Kings and Queens. It must be difficult to go from being worshipped – or at least considering yourself worshipped – to becoming a regular joe. Graduation is the great equalizer, though, and getting the largest ovation during the ceremony does not necessarily constitute a better life.

Case in point: Mavis Gary (Charlize Theron). She was the prom queen, the hot girl, the football captain’s main squeeze. No doubt at one point during her high school life she was the envy of all the girls who had yet to embrace their inner beauty, and the masturbatory fantasy of geeks who couldn’t believe they had anything to offer girls like her. Her post-high school life seems promising. She moved to the big city of Minneapolis and started ghost writing books for a series of young adult novels about teen girls. To the outside observer, Mavis’ life is one of luxury, fame, and mystery – she’s still as unattainable a celebrity as she was when she graced those hallowed halls.

We know differently, though. Mavis, as played by the revelatory Theron, is an alcoholic adolescent. Her career as a writer is about to end, as the series of books she writes have lost favor with teen girls (no doubt replaced by stories of co-dependent teen girls in love with emotionally unavailable vampires), and she is a middle-aged divorcee, seemingly with no friends except her cute, oft neglected toy dog. This is a woman looking for an excuse to matter again.

Mavis gets her excuse in an email from Buddy Slade (Patrick Wilson), her high school flame, in which he announces the birth of his daughter. While most would see this as a celebration of life, Mavis sees it as a cry of help from Buddy, and she convinces herself that they are destined to be together. Her life is a miserable train wreck not because of false expectations, bad decisions, and alcoholism, but because she and Buddy broke up and went their separate ways. So, Mavis, desperate and crazy, heads back home to her small Minnesotan town with the hopes of winning back Buddy’s adoration, even if it means destroying his home and family like a Midwestern tornado.

Of course, things don’t go according to Mavis’ plans. The most interesting obstacle comes in the form of Matt Frehauf (Patton Oswalt), the invisible geek that had the locker next to Mavis’ all four years of high school, but whom she can only remember as “The Hate Crime Guy.” In his Senior year, Matt was attacked by a group of homophobic football players who wrongly assumed he was gay and beat him so badly that not only does he walk with a cane, but his cock doesn’t even stand right. To Mavis, this is an amusing anecdote, and her lack of sympathy, combined with Matt’s own eternal adolescent worship of beauty queens make them unlikely allies in Mavis’ quest.

Reitman and Cody manage to take this story, which could become a clichéd mess, and make it a bittersweet character study. Mavis is a wholly unlikable character – vain, selfish, oblivious, judgmental, delusional, and just plain mean. Yet, she is sympathetic – a flawed woman on a quest for redemption. It’s this contradiction that gives Young Adult both its bite and its heart. We, like Matt and all those high school kids, equally worship and revile her. For every moment we feel for her, find ourselves on her side, Mavis reminds us why she is such a bitch. Credit Theron for being brave enough to play this character without a shred of irony or pathos. She won’t win an Oscar for this performance – it’s too subtle and nuanced, and too dark in a non-showy way – but she will win admiration and fandom.

And while Mavis is unlikable, Matt Frehauf is her total opposite. Patton Oswalt gives his “I’ve arrived” character actor performance in this film. Matt hangs over this film as a moral conscience, providing the audience with an “in” to the story, yet the irony of his feelings towards Mavis is not ignored. He thinks she’s a delusional idiot who can’t let go of the past. Yet, like her, he is trapped in the past, obsessed with what his life could have been had he not been nearly beaten to death. They are natural foils, and this movie is at its most riveting in the scenes featuring Theron and Oswalt.

Mavis’ journey is familiar, yet unique. Because of the film’s structure, we’re supposed to root for her to destroy Buddy’s marriage, but of course we can’t do that. Rooting against marriage is like hating puppies, or wanting kids to fail in school. So, we root for her coming to an understanding. The movie provides many moments of epiphany – my favorite being at a bar when she is forced to listen to Buddy’s wife dedicate a song to him, that just so happens to be the same song Buddy put on a mixtape for Mavis during their glory days – but never caves under the pressure to provide an easy release. The ending is unexpected because it is exactly what should happen – the sort of ending crowd-pleasing filmmakers would be incapable of making.

For me, Young Adult is one of the year’s best films. It is full of rich, complex characters in a story that eschews convention for something more real and enlightening.

Taking the 'Sex' Out of 'Sexy' -- Reflections on "Shame" (2011)

2011-12-03T18:46:00.000-08:00

"My name is Brandon, and I'm a sex addict."

In Bertolucci's Last Tango in Paris, Marlon Brando played a tormented man who falls into deep lust with a woman who is looking at renting the same apartment as he is. They engage in a passionate affair that slowly disintegrates into erotic acts of humiliation and sadomasochism. The sexual scenes in the film are beautifully staged and filmed, showing the decline in the relationship while simultaneously celebrating the eroticism of the moment. Sex, the movie tells us, is a beautiful thing -- it's the people doing it that fuck it up.

Shame is a movie about a tormented man with a sexual addiction. Michael Fassbender plays Brandon, a gainfully employed New Yorker, who seems to live his life from one orgasm to the next. His life is one of despair. He lives in a sterile apartment, does unspecified work for a nameless company, and ignores the phone calls of his desperate sister so he can watch pornography on his laptop. His daily ritual seems to be one of working, masturbating in the bathroom at work, seeking sexual partners, or settling on an evening with prostitutes or porn. And Brandon hates himself because of his compulsion. He hates himself so much that when he orgasms it looks more like he's taking an asshole ripping dump than ejaculating.

Brandon's world is unsettled when his obnoxious, vulnerable sister (Carey Mulligan) shows up unannounced at his apartment and begs to live with him for awhile. Suddenly, Brandon is forced to connect with another person, change his routine, and put someone else before himself. It's a hard proposition, but he tries, and begins to discover that it sucks. His addiction is too strong.

Meanwhile, at work, Brandon begins having feelings for a co-worker named Marianne (Nicole Beharie). They date, and he finds that becoming intimate with another person is frightening in comparison to the emotional distance the act of fucking provides.

Like Last Tango in Paris, Shame is about how emotional intimacy and physical intimacy are two different animals. Unlike Last Tango, though, Shame doesn't show us the allure of sex. This may be the only film about sex I've ever seen that didn't turn me on. Honestly, sex is exciting and fun -- it can be every bit a sweet escape as much as it can be spiritually fulfilling. Steve McQueen's film offers no hint of the beauty of sex. In this film, sex is ugly and disgusting, an act of desperation to satisfy a joyless animal urge. From Brandon's point-of-view this is certainly true; he seems to force himself into increasingly dangerous sexual escapades as a form of self-flagellation. Had the film provided a strong counterpoint, though, perhaps the drama would have unfolded in a way that was much more remarkable and revelatory.

For example, the relationship between Brandon and Marianne would have been the perfect chance to do this. The movie's best scenes involve the two of them trying to figure out what a relationship between them would look like. They have an awkward first date, but it goes well enough that Brandon feels compelled to get physical with her shortly thereafter. As they try to have sex, though, Brandon discovers he can't perform. After all his hookers, masturbation, and porn, Brandon can't get it up -- the emotional connection to this woman is too much for him and he wilts under the pressure. The movie handles his shame perfectly, and Marianne leaves him to wallow in despair, but we never get another scene between them. We never get another opportunity for Brandon to do more than have his views on sex challenged.

And that's the problem with this movie -- it's a movie about sex that doesn't make us believe that sex is something worth being addicted to. In movies about drug addiction, there are always scenes that show the temptation of drugs, revealing them to be sexy avenues of escape and pleasure. We always get parties and reckless exploits that could possibly be remembered fondly one day. Shame offers no such pleasantries. From the get-go, sex is a bad thing, a means to an end for Brandon. He walks through his life, a hollow man, from one sexual exploit to the next, making no connections with anyone, least of all himself. I never felt like I understood the appeal of it to him -- why does he like sex so much? What does an orgasm mean to him? What underlying pain is he trying to escape?

While Fassbender's performance is masterful, bold, and riveting, it is ultimately shallow. He never reveals what's under the surface of Brandon's cool, collected facade. There are moments, like when his boss asks him about the amount of filthy porn on his work computer, or when Brandon can't perform with Marianne, that offer the potential to enlighten us on Brandon's perspective, but McQueen holds back and has Brandon turn away and hide behind his titular shame. The shame is understandable, but unless we can get a better understanding for why Brandon is so self-destructive, it's tough to sympathize and understand him.

The arrival of Brandon's sister, Sissy (Carey Mulligan), should provide the opportunities we need to learn more about Brandon, but she only clouds things. The only information she offers about their life as children is that they lived in New Jersey. Otherwise, the only thing she does in the story is provide a problem for Brandon, keeping him from bringing his addiction home as opposed to forcing him to face the sort of man he's become. She' a terrific foil for him, but underused, as are most of the supporting cast, especially Marianne, the co-worker Brandon seems primed to explore having a relationship with.

I'm mixed on Shame. The performances are exceptional, and several scenes stand out and resonate on a deep level, but the plot is formless, and seems too ambiguous for its own good at times. I get that McQueen wanted to make a realistic film about a man, for whom sexual addiction separates him from society, but he makes one that is so cold and distant at times that the movie separates itself from the audience.

Hopes for Future Filmgoers -- Reflections on "Hugo" (2011)

2011-11-23T23:14:00.000-08:00

My love affair with movies began with E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial. It was 1982 and my dad, my uncle Bob, my cousin Jack and I were all waiting in line to see it. I'm sure I had been to the movies before, but never like this. People were lined up around the block to see this picture. The theater only had a couple screens, so this movie was an event. You could smell the invitation of popcorn from outside amid the buzzing of excited voices, shuffling feet, and the sounds of the street. When the line started moving, my heart pounded with the energy only a 6-year old's heart can generate. We handed the tickets over the usher and entered a cathedral. The neon lights, the popping sounds of the popcorn machine, the swishing noise of the soda fountain, the heavy muffled thump of the theater door closing behind us were overwhelming and intoxicating to me. I didn't even need for the lights to dim and the moving pictures to start playing to fall in love with going to the movies.

But when those lights did dim, when those images started flickering on the screen...I was able to go places I'd never been, feel things I didn't know I could feel, see things I could only dream of. Some people have church; I have the movies.

I hope there's a kid out there whose first movie going experience is Hugo. He or she won't have to wait in the enormous lines, because I doubt this movie will blow up as big at E.T. did (times are different now, and beautiful movies like Hugo seem to make their biggest impact on home video), but I hope this kid gets to experience the movie theater on the same religious level. I hope he or she is enraptured by the scents and sounds, and ultimately finds that when the lights go down, their lives will never be the same.

For a kid, Hugo will be a discovery. It is a film rich in detail, layered like the gears of a clock. Martin Scorsese has used his powers to create a world that immediately feels both familiar and fantastical at the same time. As an seasoned man, he can still see the world as a child sees it, with wonder. For an adult, like me, Hugo is a beautiful reminder of why I love this artform, what it means to me, and why it needs to be shared and preserved.

The story is a simple story of an orphaned boy named Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield), who lives in the clock tower of a Parisian train station, where he secretly maintains the clocks after his drunken uncle abandons the post. Hugo lives the life of a mouse, quietly going about his business and sneaking out to steal food and other items right from under the watchful eye of the Station Inspector (Sacha Baron Cohen). One of the people he steals from is a toy shop owner, Georges Méliès (Ben Kingsley), who is more than he seems. Hugo steals parts -- gears, screws, coils -- for a project he is working on in secret. When the toy shop owner catches him, he confiscates Hugo's prize possession, a little notebook full of detailed plans for his project, and Hugo will do anything to get it back. Hugo must enlist the aid of Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz), Méliès's god-daughter, to help him.

Hugo, you see, is trying to complete repairs on an automaton, a robot built for a specific purpose. His father (Jude Law) had discovered it in the basement of the museum where he worked and together he and Hugo made repairing it a time for bonding. After a fire in the museum took his father's life, Hugo found himself an orphan, left to the devices of his drunken uncle. All Hugo had left of his father was the automaton and he continues to fix it, hoping the machine will have a message for him from his father when it is finished. Little does Hugo know, though, just how meaningful that little machine is to the lives of everyone in the tale.

Eventually, the two friends discover that Isabelle's god-father is none other than Georges Méliès, the famous French film director, whose Voyage to the Moon is considered one of the early classics of cinema. Their discovery is not only a surprise, but the opening of a door into the history of film. You can feel Scorsese, the film geek, shining through in these moments, as he intercuts clips from early silent films by Méliès, Buster Keaton, Harold Lloyd, and others into his. He makes a connection here between the past and present, maybe even making a point that the way to find the future of film is by revisiting its glorious past.

Martin Scorsese, directing here his first family film, and his first film in 3-D, has found a story in which to weave a special magic. It may also be Scorsese's most personal film. In a lot of ways, Hugo seems to be his voice, especially in moments when he conveys to Isabelle his love for movies. In one key scene, Hugo discovers that Isabelle has never seen a movie, and he is taken aback. He loves them so much, he expresses to her, because they can take him anywhere he wants to go. It's a touching moment, and one of the finest in any film Scorsese has directed.

Indeed, this may be one of Scorsese's finest films. It is most certainly his strangest, merely because it does not employ the usual band of gangsters, killers, and psychopaths. Yet, it fits perfectly into his catalog as it is really a story about outcasts, and Scorsese has a true affinity for the outsider, whether it be an alienated loner like Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver, a Jewish-Italian mobster like Henry Hill in Goodfellas, an anti-social, self-destructive boxer like Jake LaMotta in Raging Bull, or a downtrodden orphan like Hugo Cabret. Actually, every major character is this story is an outcast, from Hugo to Georges, who believes he is a forgotten artist, to the Station Inspector, whose disabled leg from an injury in the first World War has made him insecure around the train station's fetching florist (Emily Mortimer). Scorsese puts these characters together like clockwork.

Not only is this film strange because of its content, but also because of its form. Scorsese was the last director I'd ever expect to use 3-D, but it turns out this was both a novel and brilliant decision. He uses the 3-D technology in ways only James Cameron has been able to rival. Each shot feels very picturesque, the 3-D bringing a stunning depth to the screen. This is the way 3-D was meant to be used, not as a gimmick to force people to fork over an extra wad of cash at the box office, but to enhance the way pictures tell the story. It shouldn't be surprising that one of our best directors was able to do just that.

The effect of all these parts is that Hugo casts a two-hour spell, drawing us in to its world from the opening shot and never letting us go. For a brief part of the experience, I felt like that six-year old kid again, sitting in my church -- a movie theater -- experiencing this new world the likes of which I'd never seen. All the jaded attitudes from years of movie going, sitting through countless bad movies, were stripped away and I felt like I was watching something new.

I hope there's a kid out there who has that same experience with this movie.

A Movie You Don't Have to Think About -- Reflections on "Real Steel" (2011)

2011-11-21T22:39:00.000-08:00

Who You Callin' 'Rock Em Sock Em'?

Recently, I got into a debate with a student over what we are looking for in a movie. He seemed to be interested in films that merely entertain or amuse him on a basic level -- hence the love for Transformers and most of Adam Sandler's catalog. When I explained why I found those types of movies to be so lame, he responded: "Mr. Dollins, you think too much when you watch movies." To which, I wanted very badly to say, "Maybe so, but you, my friend, don't seem to think enough."

I held my tongue, though, as hard as that was for me.

Well, I think I've found a film that satisfies both of us: Real Steel.

Real Steel is a movie I've seen a million times. It's the traditional "underdog gets a shot at redemption" story that goes way back to Biblical times; the type of story audiences eat up. When done right, these sorts of stories make for wonderful movies. Remember Rocky, The Karate Kid, and The Waterboy (just kidding on that last one)? Real Steel is done wonderfully, and may go down as one of the most lovable films this year.

The story combines family drama and sports films, but gives them a sci-fi twist. It tells the story of a down-and-out former boxer named Charlie (Hugh Jackman), who ekes out an existence borrowing money he never intends to payback and participating in robot fights on an underground circuit. Robot fighting in this not-too-distant future has become all the rage. Charlie's life becomes complicated when he discovers the mother of his bastard child has died, leaving him custody of the 11-year old, Max (Dakota Goyo). Charlie manages to sell his rights to Max to the boy's aunt for $100,000, but the only caveat is that he must take care of his son for a summer so the aunt and her husband can finish a vacation in Europe. Charlie decides to bring Max into his world and discovers the kid knows a thing or two about robot boxing himself.

After an early underground fight goes awry and Charlie loses a prized robot, he and Max discover a new one in the wrecks of a junkyard. This new bot, Atom, isn't much it seems. It was a sparring robot, capable of taking a beating, but not having much else to distinguish it. Max sees potential in the underdog, and is anxious to fight with him, much to Charlie's displeasure. Eventually, Max wins out and they get Atom involved in fights, and ... you can figure out the rest, I'm sure.

There isn't much surprising about Real Steel. As a narrative, it hits all the right beats. Thematically, it isn't saying anything that hasn't a) been said, and b) been said significantly better. What it has going for it, though, is an indomitable spirit, great heart, and some terrific performances. You know where everything's going, but it makes you smile anyway, and makes you root for the ending you have pretty much already figured out. To me, that's the sign of a good film.

Hugh Jackman's performance as Charlie is one of the best of his career. He's a cocky douchebag, but under the surface you can see a real man trying to break free. It's not hard to understand why his landlord and confidante, Bailey (Evangeline Lilly) is so in love with him. In the fatherhood department, you can sense his insecurity about how to manage his strong-willed son bubbling under the veneer of toughness. I really want to see Jackman do a great dramatic film someday. He's got the chops, elevating this simple fare with the same charisma he used to make X-Men a better film.

Another element to this movie I enjoyed was look and feel of the setting. It was very familiar, yet you could sense that this was indeed the future. The robots are remarkable design work, each having their own distinct personality and look. And their fights are well-staged and edited. One of my biggest fears about this film before seeing it was that watching robots fight would feel pointless and impersonal -- there doesn't seem to be much in the stakes department -- but director Shawn Levy found a way to make these fights matter, and make the robot, Atom, feel as important as any of the living characters.

While I'm sure I could find many things to criticize about this movie, I will take my student's advice and not think too much. Real Steel is exactly the sort of film it purports to be: a family-friendly entertainment about battling robots. It's a great way to spend a couple hours. You may not find your soul or your mind nurtured, but you will leave the theater with a smile on your face. That's important, too.

Favorite Horror Films of the Aughts

2011-10-25T19:11:00.000-07:00

Since it's nearing Halloween, it's time to start reflecting on the horror films of the last 10 years that have done some damage to our psyches and given us any number of uneasy, sleepless nights. These 10 films are what I believe to be the best the last decade has had to offer. It's been a unique decade for horror films, with the advent of the "gore porn" taking over our megaplexes and forcing us to look at grisly images with all the class and dignity of some teenage punk saying, "Wanna see something cool?" before pulling out his phone to show you "2 Girls, 1 Cup." This last decade, though, has also been a time in which many filmmakers have used horror film to deal with some very dark feelings about the state of our world. Of course, the best horror always comes from the darkest of times. The aughts had a lot to offer, even as most of the sheep were lining up to see the latest installment of "Final Destination" or "Saw."

These films are in alphabetical order.

28 Days Later (2002)

Danny Boyle's exhilarating take on the zombie apocalypse reinvigorated the genre and set into motion a decade of zombie obsession. A man (Cillian Murphy) wakes up from a coma after 28 days only to find that the world has been ravaged by a "rage" virus, turning most people into flesh hungry monstrosities. While many zombie purists hate the idea of "infected" people being considered as frightening as undead cannibals, there is no denying that 28 Days Later is all sorts of disturbing.

The Descent (2005)

A group of women go spelunking in an unknown cave in Rob Marshall's dark and twisted film. The claustrophobia evoked by the cave setting, combined with the intense sound editing are enough to make this a creepy, tense movie, but the inclusion of some of the most unsettling cave dwelling monsters ever put to celluloid put this over the top. The Descent earns every scare in conjures, taking the time to build its female protagonists beyong mere caricature into a group of unique and interesting women trapped in one dreadful situation.

Drag Me To Hell (2009)

Looking back on this now, I realize that Sam Raimi had made his commentary on greed and our nation's financial collapse with Drag Me To Hell. On the surface, it's an intense, creepy movie with a darkly comic premise: an ambitious loan officer (Allison Lohman) rejects the pleas of a poor, grotesque gypsy woman and is cursed in the worst way imaginable -- in three days Hell will open up and its demons will claim her. Under the surface, though, it's a twisted allegory about corporate greed.

Frailty (2001)

A single father raising two boys one day shows up at breakfast claiming to have had a vision from God. The vision: God has sent a list of demons who must be destroyed. Turns out these "demons" are all people. Is Dad's decision to act on this murder, or is he doing the work of the Lord? Frailty asks this question without passing judgment, making it all the more chilling. Bill Paxton directs this debut feature with a steady hand, amping up the tension moment by moment as we witness these events through the eyes of the children.

High Tension (2003)

Alexandre Aja's 2003 film is as trippy as they come. Two girls on winter recess from school visit one of the girls' family. Late on the first night, there's a home invasion, and all the family is murdered, and one of the girls is kidnapped. The remaining girl goes in pursuit of her friend, and it only gets more twisted from there. Aja's direction in this film is top notch, and while the finale may stretch the limits of credulity a bit, the film is admirable for taking lots of risks throughout.

Let the Right One In (2008)

I would consider placing Let the Right One In on a list of the best romances of the aughts as well. It's not that the movie is so lovey-dovey, but that it's central relationship is better developed and realized than virtually anything in mainstream cinema. Oskar is a bullied teen who discovers a backbone after he meets the mysterious Eli. Eli, we discover, is a vampire, and her presence is symbolic of endless misery of adolescence. Few films have both moved and terrified me as much as this one.

Martyrs (2008)

This movie goes places other films fear to tread. It begins as a revenge story of a 20-something woman, and her friend, seeking out the married couple that held her captive and tortured her as a child. It devolves into a torture-porn in which we discover the nature of the child's torture. Unlike films like Hostel, Martyrs takes the time to develop its characters so when the torture begins, you're not just recoiling in horror at what you are seeing, but you're trapped in terror because of the amount of care you have.

May (2002)

If you were lonely, what lengths would you go to end that feeling? Well, in May, the title character decides to make herself a doll composed of human parts. This is a warped film, but features a central performance by Angela Bettis that ranks right up there among the finest in the horror genre. She plays May as a tortured youth, but who tries so hard to fit in despite her oddity. You can't hate May even as she does the unthinkable, because were the conditions just right, you could be just like her yourself.

Pan's Labyrinth (2006)

Guillermo del Toro is one of the most gifted visual filmmakers. His compositions, cinematography is meticulous and beautiful. In Pan's Labyrinth, he puts his gift to great use, creating a dark and haunting world that is as full of wonder as it is of danger. Little Ofelia, tormented by her abusive stepfather, runs away to a nearby labyrith and falls into a new and strange world in which she learns what she must do to return to her real father. While this is not traditional horror, it is dark, chilling, and disturbing, not to mention Oscar winning.

Saw (2004)

Saw may very well be the first modern "gore porn." But more than that, it's a twisted mystery that at its heart is a remarkably moralistic take on the ills of American society. It also introduced one of the most inventive movie killers in Jigsaw, which spawned an slew of half-baked sequels (but then again, so did Friday the 13th, Halloween, and A Nightmare on Elm Street). What makes this movie so clever, though, is its insistence that in order to save our own lives, we will no doubt do the most horrific things imaginable.

What I've Been Watching -- August 2011

2011-08-21T11:16:00.000-07:00

I haven't been able to keep up with writing full reviews lately about the movies I've been seeing. Between going to theaters and catching up on this year's releases on Blu-ray, I've seen a lot. Here are my thoughts on some of the 2011 films I've watched over the past couple weeks.

Trust (2011), dir: David Schwimmer ***1/2

Friends alum, David Schwimmer, directs this passion project about a 14-year old girl who gets raped by an older man she met on a social network. Schwimmer's dedication to this film is obvious from his attention to details that take the material well-beyond its "After School Special"/Lifetime network subject matter. The film uses the rape (revealed in a very uncomfortable, frightening way) as the hub of a series of events involving not only the victim, Annie (Liana Liberato), but her parents, Will (Clive Owen) and Lynn (Catherine Keener). There are trust issues all around, as the title reminds us, but this is a good, all-American family, with attentive, loving parents, and well-rounded, obedient children; this shouldn't be happening to them. Our transition into this social networking era has brought with it new ways to engage the insecurities of impressionable kids, and that is where Trust is at its best, showing us Annie as she chats with "Charlie" on-line, confessing her deepest secrets and feelings to a faceless stranger she firmly believes is a 16-year old volleyball player. When Annie finally admits the truth of her ordeal to herself, the heartbreak and agony is gut-wrenching and great filmmaking.

The Help, dir: Tate Taylor ***1/2

For the most part, The Help is nothing new. It is a film about a white girl named Skeeter (Emma Stone) who decides she can't handle the racism in her Jackson, Mississippi town anymore in the early 60s, so she takes to interviewing all the black servants in town to get their stories of injustice at the hands of their white owners -- I mean, employers. We learn nothing here we didn't already know -- blacks were mistreated by ignorant, racist whites who saw them as nothing more than paid slaves -- but the movie handles the material with such excellent humor and some terrific performances that it is impossible to dislike. Viola Davis and Octavia Spencer deserve all the kudos they will receive portraying Aibileen and Minny, best friends who have finally had enough of the disrespect of debutante Hilly Holbrook (Bryce Dallas Howard). They bring considerable vulnerability and strength to their performances, especially Davis, who is stunning. The Help is this year's Driving Miss Daisy, and it is a crowd-pleaser. It also features perhaps the best poop joke I've seen in a movie, a simple pleasure I simply can't ignore.

Hobo with a Shotgun, dir: Jason Eisener ***

A disturbing, ultra-violent grindhouse film about a hobo (Rutger Hauer) looking to get a new start by re-locating to a different city. He finds himself in an urban nightmare, where the local gangster, The Drake (Brian Downey) orchestrates bloody massacres at high noon, where people are paid to beat up the homeless on film, and where a pedophile is given free rein to dress up as Santa Claus and abduct children after school. Eventually, our hobo can't take it anymore, buys a shotgun at a local pawn shop and proceeds to exact his vigilante justice on this vile town. Hauer's performance is awesome, the violence creative and over-the-top, and the use of color vibrant and chilling. The movie doesn't have much to say beyond its "society is fucked up" message, but it does so with such style and diabolical joy that you can't help but enjoy the ride.

Rise of the Planet of the Apes, dir: Rupert Wyatt ***

Not that we needed a prequel to the 60s-70s Planet of the Apes series, but Rise of the Planet of the Apes is a well-made one that should stand as a blueprint for how prequels should be made. It is filled with tension and excitement, explains how things got to be the way they were in the 1968 film, and has a strong cast, especially Andy Serkis, whose digital captured performance of the ape, Caesar, is filled with greater emotion and depth than any human character in the film. The basic plot is simple: Will (James Franco) is a scientist who thinks he has cured Alzheimer's, which is slowly claiming the life of his father (John Lithgow). After one of the test chimps goes apeshit, his experiments are shut down and all he's left with is a baby ape to raise on his own under the radar. The baby ape, Caesar, is the success of the experiments, growing up ultra-smart, but due to mistreatment by a range of humans, Caesar discovers he has to bring his fellow apes together so they can be liberated. It's like Braveheart with monkeys. An unnecessary, but terrific, summer flick.

Unknown, dir: Jaume Collet-Serra **1/2

A wannabe Hitchcockian film with a strong lead performance by Liam Neeson, who is the greatest geriatric action film star of all-time. Unfortunately, he's in a film with a scripts as dumb as bricks that doesn't know when not to take itself seriously. Had this movie gone the campy route, it might have been good, but instead it affects a grave, intense tone drenched in grays and somber blues. The premise involves Neeson playing a biochemist named Martin Harris who arrives in Berlin with his wife (January Jones) for an important conference. Martin gets into a horrible traffic accident and wakes up four days later to discover that there's now another man (Aidan Quinn) who claims to be the doctor. This case of mistaken identity naturally leads to talk of global conspiracy, yadda-yadda-yadda. What is does mostly is talk down to the audience by allowing its villains to explain themselves at every turn, and by boring us with easily predicted plot twists. Yawn.

The Ward, dir: John Carpenter **1/2

After a long hiatus, John Carpenter returns to movies by bringing us The Ward, a movie that might have worked better a couple years ago, before Zack Snyder ruined female-themed insane asylum movies forever with Sucker Punch. In this film, Amber Heard plays Kristen, an arsonist who winds up in a haunted asylum. She meets the other girls who are staying in her wing, including the resident ghost, Alice (designed by the always awesome make-up artist Greg Nicotero), who wants all the girls dead. Kristen encourages everyone to escape, but while the orderlies and the good doctor (Jared Harris) don't seem very skilled at keeping the girls locked down, Alice does. The first half of the film is an exercise in building atmospheric horror. Carpenter's use of angles and editing show why he is a master craftsman. He is able to make seemingly the most meaningless moments feel full of dread. Unfortunately he can't sustain the tension, and once the monster is set loose, the film becomes a fairly standard slasher. The twist is a bit of a cheat, but the ward has one thing going for it: it is sure as hell better than Sucker Punch.

Limitless, dir: Neil Burger **

Like Unknown, this thriller is dumber than dirt. Bradley Cooper stars as Eddie Morra, a blocked writer who gets the answers to all his problems in a little pill that makes him capable of accessing 100% of his brain. This could have been an interesting film, had the writer spent some time reading science-fiction over the last 40 years, but instead it devolves into a paranoid drug-thriller as Eddie, despite being the smartest human alive, does some really stupid shit. Somehow, we are supposed to believe that a sensitive, bohemian artist type would take a mind-expanding drug and decide that what he really wants to do is get involved in stocks. We're supposed to believe that he would seriously consider borrowing money to increase his capital from a degenerate loan shark. And we're supposed to believe that this guy would aspire to become a politician. Once Eddie takes his pill and goes down the rabbit hole, he no longer remains a character, but a puppet of the plot. And the climax of this film is one of the stupidest things I've seen all year. It only gets two stars because of the way in which director Neil Burger shoots the sequences in which Eddie is fired up on this drug; they're inventive and interesting in a way the character and plot are not.

The Roommate, dir: Christian E. Christiansen *1/2

This is a knock-off of 90s stalker-chick films like Single White Female and The Hand That Rocks the Cradle. Unfortunately it doesn't have nearly as talented a cast, or nearly as interesting a story to tell. Sara (Minka Kelly) begins college at the fictional University of Los Angeles and discovers that she has a psychotic roommate, Rebecca (Leighton Meester). The plot is a boring collection of contrivances, with only one scene having any real tension in it (a Brian dePalma-esque sequence in which Rebecca masturbates while talking with Sara's ex-boyfriend on the phone while Sara has sex for the first time with her new boyfriend). I knew going in that The Roommate was not going to be a very good movie, but I was hoping it might be laughably bad, worthy of being ridiculed forever. Unfortunately, it wasn't even kind enough to be that -- ultimately, it's just a bad, forgettable movie.

Whatever Happened to Real Horror? -- Reflections on "Fright Night" (2011)

2011-08-20T23:29:00.000-07:00

I remember the first time I saw The Omen. I was 16, staying up late, and watching a movie with one helluva scary kid on the cover of the VHS tape box. This was in 1993, some 17 years after the movie was first released. After the movie was done, and Damien's mischievous final glance had faded to black, Jerry Goldsmith's sinister score had me so unnerved by its backward-looped Latin that I had to make sure every light was turned on as I made my way to my bedroom for an uneasy night's sleep.

Whatever happened to that sort of horror movie? The sort that had you uncomfortable just by looking at the cover of the DVD case?

A good horror movie is supposed to be frightening. The most artful go deeper, finding the root of real terror and pinching that nerve till it is virtually unbearable. There is a short list of horror films since the late 70s that qualify for that list -- Frailty, Martyrs, High Tension, The Descent, Audition, Let the Right One In. Most seem to fall into one of three camps: 1) Suspenseful, 2) Gory, 3) Campy. And while there is nothing wrong with any of those three categories, they have all the intensity of a fun Halloween evening in which none of the scares are real.

I say all of this to introduce Fright Night, a film buried deep in the summer season like a bastard child. This is a film that solidly falls into the third camp, yet for moments it taps into something a bit deeper. It has all the grace of a slap and tickle, but all the delights, too.

This is a fairly standard vampire film, and fans of the 1986 movie should already know the basic story. Charley Brewster (Anton Yelchin) is a 17-year old former geek who discovers his next door neighbor, Jerry (Colin Farrell), is a vampire. Charley tries to protect his mother (Toni Collette) and his hot girlfriend, Amy (Imogen Poots), from Jerry and enlists the help of Las Vegas showman/vampire expert Peter Vincent (David Tennant). The basic story is a retread of Dracula and countless other vampire tales. This is why it's camp, because we know what to expect. Director Craig Gillespie lets his film do a little winking from time to time, and gets the sort of meta-fictional laughs that Wes Craven's Scream 4 severely lacked earlier this year.

Surprisingly, though, Fright Night has some teeth under its traditional storyline. By taking its time in the first half-hour to let us get to know Charley through his dorky, loser best friend Ed (Christopher Mintz-Plasse), the movie explores the scary side of being a teenager. Ed is really hurting that Charley has left him behind to hang out with cooler kids and constantly reminds Charley of this transformation. Charley, the movie shows us, isn't that much different than Jerry the Vampire. He's just hurts his victims in different ways.

I'm not saying that Fright Night is a deep movie. By no means. It is simplistic for the most part, but the simple treatment of its coming-of-age themes makes them feel dangerous, even when we're laughing. This is most evident in an early scene between Jerry and Charley in which Jerry asks Charley if he can snag a six-pack of beer from the Brewster's fridge. In this simple exchange of alcohol, it becomes clear that Charley is far from being the man he needs to be as the only man in his father-less family. True terror originates from a feeling of helplessness, and Charley's helplessness provides one of Fright Night's scariest moments.

While Fright Night is still a campy vampire film, it makes a valiant effort to be something greater. In a summer where Scream 4, Final Destination 5 and Transformers 3 are the only "horror" films in theaters, its a relief to see someone making a legitimate horror movie. Hell, screenwriter Marti Noxon, even makes this clear from the start when Mintz-Plasse's Ed becomes offended that Charley would compare the sort of vampires in their neighborhood with those from the Twilight franchise. It's an announcement that anyone looking for pussy vamps can stay away -- only real monsters from here.

Benefit of the Doubt -- Reflections on "Crazy, Stupid, Love." (2011)

2011-08-05T23:51:00.000-07:00

"You know I'm a better actor than you, right?"

So far, this has been a very bad year for comedies, especially of the romantic variety. So far, we've had No Strings Attached, Just Go With It, The Dilemma, and Hall Pass. All of these movies are poor examples of the romantic genre, with contrived gimmicks taking the place of quality stories involving interesting, relatable characters.

Maybe it's because of the quality of this year's company, but Crazy, Stupid, Love is more along the lines of what a romantic comedy should be. It ditches the clever ideas for a more human story about people struggling with the issues and consequences of love, desire, and fidelity in their everyday lives. Instead of giving its characters snarky, sarcastic dialogue, it has them speak more like you and me. There's a very real feeling to this movie, and the result is a film that is not only funny, but relevant.

Basics: Cal (Steve Carell) discovers that his wife, Emily (Julianne Moore), wants a divorce because she is having an affair with a man from work (Kevin Bacon). His life is thrown into shambles, so he tries to pick up the pieces when he meets Jacob (Ryan Gosling), a ladies' man who takes it upon himself to transform Cal into a self-confident player. Meanwhile, Jacob meets a girl named Hannah (Emma Stone) who seems to challenge him more than the typical girls he meets in bars. There's also a subplot involving Cal and Emily's son, Robbie (Jonah Bobo), who is in love with the babysitter, Jessica (Analeigh Tipton).

Ryan Gosling is "Da Man!": Name a better actor working today. Leonardo DiCaprio? Johnny Depp? Brad Pitt? Gosling proved in Blue Valentine that he had serious acting chops, but his work in offbeat comedy, like Lars and the Real Girl, and his turn as romantic lead in The Notebook reveal his depth as an actor. With Crazy, Stupid, Love, Gosling shows impeccable comedic timing and an ability to bring remarkable charisma to the table. His character, Jacob, is the ultimate player, and not once do you doubt Gosling as this guy. But he doesn't play Jacob as smarmy or insensitive. Instead, he shows us this character is amused by his conquests, but ultimately unfulfilled and wanting something more. With the way Hollywood is pushing Ryan Reynolds to be the next star, it would seem they are backing the wrong horse. Gosling is the real deal -- a major talent who can play any type of role.

Sports Analogy Forthcoming: For as well-written and interesting as Crazy, Stupid, Love is for most of its runtime, it is not without its faults. One of the biggest faults it has is in not making Steve Carell's character, Cal, more consistently interesting. After Cal meets Jacob, Jacob pretty much steals the show and no matter how good Carell is as Cal, he simply can't keep up. Yet, because of Carell's star power, we get a number of scenes with him while Gosling is on the sidelines, seemingly involved in a much more interesting story with Emma Stone's character. It feels a bit like a basketball team, where Carell gets the lion's share of the minutes because he's the old reliable veteran, even though the team has a young buck in Gosling who takes the team to new heights when he's on the floor, but keeps getting held back by the coach. This is not a knock on Carell, or his performance, which is functional and appropriate for the role he is playing.

Broken Record Time: I've been saying this a lot lately in my reviews, but I really feel like Crazy, Stupid, Love could have been an even better movie than it is. This is partially because of the way it underuses Gosling and Stone's terrific subplot, but mostly it's due to an ending that seemed to come out of a sitcom playbook. I found myself rolling my eyes during the film's last 20 minutes, which seemed to match the rest of the film's intelligence with its blatant stupidity. This left me wondering where the movie went off the tracks, because it really could have been something special if it hadn't ended in the most nauseating -- and predictable -- way possible.

Without hesitation, I recommend Crazy, Stupid, Love as a wonderful date movie. It has a couple stellar performances, and a -- mostly -- smart script. I may be giving it the benefit of the doubt in light of the absolutely wretched romantic comedies we've already been exposed to this year, but it is most deserving of that benefit.

Not as Horrible as They Could Have Been -- Reflections on "Horrible Bosses" (2011)

2011-08-01T15:20:00.000-07:00

Seriously, would you be complaining?

What makes Horrible Bosses so much fun is that we can all relate to hating our bosses. I don't think any working stiff can say they've never had at least one job in which they wished their boss would just die already. When I was 16, the first job I had was working at a Baker's Burgers, and I got fired for making up an obscene song about the night manager, whose condescending, bitchy attitude was enough to send me over the edge. Since then, I've had a range of bosses, from the kind and sweet to the downright insulting (I'll never forget the time I worked at a real estate journal and had the editor read one of my articles and say "Shit. Shit. Shit" as he made his way through every line with a red pen.).

It's these sorts of memories that make us want to see a movie like Horrible Bosses, and it is also these memories that make us like the film more than we probably should. This is a funny, solid movie that will eventually get tons of replays on TBS, Comedy Central, or FX in an edited form a few years from now.

From my tone, though, you can see that somehow I was still dissatisfied. I was. Horrible Bosses is a film that had the chance to be a much better one. Its script is weak in comparison to all the acting talent on display, and never really dives into situations that could have made the comedy darker, harsher, and more potent. As I watched it, I kept thinking how safe a movie about murder felt, and I never once felt worried or nervous about the fate of our heroes. This is quite a contrast with a significantly better movie about the workplace -- Mike Judge's classic Office Space -- which revved up the tension throughout and made us really care about the fate of its similar three headed protagonist. Horrible Bosses is still a decent, enjoyable comedy, but it wants you to think it is edgier than it actually is, sort of like Jeff Dunham, or Dane Cook.

Basics: Nick (Jason Bateman), Kenny (Jason Sudekis), and Dale (Charlie Day) are long-time friends who all have shitty jobs. Nick's boss, Mr. Harken (Kevin Spacey) is a controlling, manipulative jerk who takes advantage of Nick's work ethic to leverage a bigger salary for himself. Kenny's boss, Bobby Pellitt (Colin Farrell), is a major league douche-bag with a coke problem. And Dale's boss, Julia (Jennifer Aniston), sexually harasses him constantly, despite the fact that he's engaged to be married. The three decide enough's enough and seek out a hitman (Jamie Foxx) to kill their bosses. All the hitman wants is to offer them advice, and in a Strangers on a Train twist, the three friends wind up deciding to kill each other's horrible boss.

Protagonist Problems: One of my biggest issues with this film was its characterization of the protagonists. In each of their first scenes we begin to get glimpse into their characters, but once the plot takes over, each becomes quite generic and obvious. Nick is the paranoid, wet noodle type, Kenny the horn dog, and Dale the hyper buffoon. None really shows any other side to his character. I think had the writers chosen to split them up instead of keeping them together so often, we might have been able to distinguish them better. This is especially true for Nick, who merely comes across as a variation on every other character Jason Bateman has played in recent memory. Seriously, I had to look up the character's names on IMDb because there was nothing about them to make me remember their names.

Supporting Cast Kudos: While the leads are a definite problem here, the supporting cast is dead-on. They don't get enough screen time to really flex their collective muscles, but what time they do have each makes the most of. Kevin Spacey was born to play slimy, arrogant assholes like Mr. Harken, and you can see how much he relishes every scene he is in. Colin Farrell is fun as the gross and moronic Bobby -- it's always fun to see an actor sacrifice his/her good looks/image, and he does both here. But most fun is Jennifer Aniston's crazy turn as the hypersexual dentist. She needed more screen time if only so we could continue to realize that she actually is a good comedic actress. Aniston is sort of a female version of Bruce Willis -- incredibly talented and charismatic, but with a poor eye for quality projects. Her talent is definitely on display here, and its obvious that she is loving every minute of it.

Recommendations: If you thought Horrible Bosses was awesome and think I'm full of shit, check out these workplace comedies and then re-evaluate: Office Space, 9 to 5, Clerks, The Apartment, and The Devil Wears Prada. Each gives a different angle on the workplace, and each does so with delicious humor and biting satire.

A Traditional Western Clothed in Sci-Fi Chaps -- Reflections on "Cowboys & Aliens" (2011)

2011-07-29T10:22:00.000-07:00

Cool, but not as cool as this image would have you believe.

When I first heard Jon Favreau was directing Cowboys & Aliens, I was intrigued. I love a great western, and of course I'm all in favor of sci-fi. Maybe this movie could be like a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, or like Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles -- a masterpiece of seemingly mismatched genres. I got all geeky inside imagining horse riding cowboys sideshooting wicked aliens on a desert terrain. It seemed odd, but somehow like a crazy fantasy straight from the mind of an eight-year old boy.

Well, Cowboys & Aliens is pretty much what I imagined it would be. And while I was satisfied with the finished product, I was also somewhat disappointed, too. There's a part of me that feels like a highly paid group of writers has a responsibility to go do the unexpected, avoid the predictable and cliche, and entertain us ceaselessly. Cowboys & Aliens is, by no means, a bad film, but it never pushes the envelope on either genre it plays with, often choosing to cling tightly to the traditions of each. Where it could have been audacious and daring, it is instead traditional and, occasionally, generic.

Basics: Jake Lonergan (Daniel Craig) wakes up in the middle of the desert with amnesia and a strange metal bracelet on his arm. He winds up in the small, western town of Absolution where he is pegged for an outlaw and forced to face off against the law. When aliens attack, the metal bracelet acts up and Jake discovers he has an unexpected connection with these flying "demons." The aliens abduct several members of the town, including the son of the town bigwig, Col. Dolarhyde (Harrison Ford), so the remaining group forms a posse to track down the aliens and save everyone.

Supporting Stars: Most classic westerns relied on a great supporting cast to make them memorable. One of the things Cowboys & Aliens gets right is its casting. The leads, of course, look and act the part, but it's the bit players that make this world feel lived in. Sam Rockwell plays the pacifist saloon owner Doc with a terrific intensity. Keith Carradine, as Absolution's hand-tied Sheriff, is moral and kind. I also enjoyed Olivia Wilde's performance as Ella, a mysterious lady with a unique connection to Jake and the device strapped to his arm.

Alien Issues: The strongest element of this movie is the western story -- Jake's amnesia and the way he has to learn how bad a scoundrel he is is enough to make a movie by itself. The strength of this storyline highlights the weakness of the alien aspect. The aliens are, once again, a silent species who seem more willing to take and destroy than anything reasonable. Their design is similar to that of the creature in Super 8. Once we discover what their motivation is for abducting people, it's awfully underwhelming. There's definitely a reason "cowboys" comes first in the title.

Socio-Political-Historical Metaphors: I don't think I would be so critical of the movie if it weren't for the obvious parallels made between the Cowboy/Alien conflict and the Cowboy/Indian conflict. You see, the aliens are like the Americans who are here raping and pillaging and taking the land we had first. It's like we become the Indians, which makes our cowboys come to truly understand the plight of the Native American. As if being abducted by opportunistic aliens is enough to create sympathy for the years and years of raping, pillaging, and sequestering endured by Native Americans.

While Cowboys & Aliens is uneven, it's not a wholly bad film, and has some fun moments. I think my expectations were a bit higher considering the film's pedigree. If the title had been even more obvious, like Snakes on a Plane, perhaps I would have had been even more forgiving. Nonetheless, this is a decent movie with some enjoyable moments and a strong cast that elevates weaker material.

Best and Worst Movies of the Year ... So Far

2011-07-23T16:22:00.000-07:00

As a whole, so far, 2011 has been a pretty lame year for movies. If you don't include Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, the box office is down, people are not making much effort to go, and plenty of media outlets have been running articles on how the novelty of 3-D has worn off as the public has gotten wise to what seems now to be no more than a cheap gimmick by studios to charge extra money.

This does not mean that the year has been all bad. There have been several good, and even a couple great films worth seeing. So, here's my list of the 5 best films of the year up to this point (in alphabetical order):

Bridesmaids

Kristen Wiig has written and starred in the best overall comedy of the year with Bridesmaids. She plays a woman whose life has been in free fall since her bakery became a casualty of the economy, only to become even more devastated by the announcement that her best friend is about to be married. When she discovers that there's competition to become the maid of honor in the wedding, she loses her cool and the wheels come off, leading to some remarkable comedic moments. What separates this comedy from others is its willingness to present us with female characters that act like women, talk like women, and -- most importantly -- think like women. The humor never feels contrived, and Wiig's performance is outstanding.

Midnight in Paris

Because Woody Allen has made a movie a year since the late 60s, he has made a lot of crap (Celebrity, Curse of the Jade Scorpion, etc.). Yet, his batting average overall is quite good when you consider his home runs (Annie Hall, Manhattan, Hannah and Her Sisters, Crimes and Misdemeanors). Well, Midnight in Paris is another home run. Owen Wilson plays Gil, a screenwriter on vacation in Paris with his fiance. He's a romantic, nostalgic sort who wishes it were still the 1920s when F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, Salvador Dali, and Luis Buñel hung out, partied, and created some of the great art of the 20th century. Well, in a magical twist, at the stroke of midnight Gil finds himself transported back to 1920s Paris where he gets the chance to hobknob with his artistic heroes and find a new love in the beautiful form of Adriana (Marion Cotillard). Midnight in Paris is charming, beautifully shot, and for 90 minutes makes you believe in magic.

Rango

Gore Verbinski's animated tribute to spaghetti westerns is the most inventive animated film this year. It gives us a main character that is at once unorthodox as he is unattractive in the form of the identity challenged Rango (Johnny Depp). Rango finds himself, after a road trip accident, stranded in the desert searching for water. This leads him to the town of Dirt, where he bullshits his way into the role of Sheriff. There are strange characters, scary monsters, a conspiracy, and plenty of hijinks to make this movie both fun and engaging. Verbinski apparently shot this film in live action with the actors together at the same time, and had the animators work with the footage. It shows, as the characters' movements and personalities take on a liveliness that only Pixar films seem to generate.

Super 8

With Super 8, director JJ Abrams channels the spirit of early Spielberg, creating this sci-fi classic about growing up, friendship, and forgiveness. Joe, after the death of his mother, dives into work as the make-up artist in his best friend's zombie movie. One night, while filming, they witness a train accident that unleashes something evil and alien on their small town. Joe's father, Jackson (Kyle Chandler), is the Sheriff's Deputy who tries to get to the bottom of the chaos, which he fears is being covered up by the US military. Super 8 feels familiar, but it's Abrams' flair for style and his ability to find the heart and emotion at the core of his story that make this movie special. The performances of his young cast are honest and captivating, especially those of Joel Courtney and Elle Fanning as Alice, the troubled, beautiful girl-next-door with whom both Joe and Charles are in love. This is a film that fills you with wonder at the same time it tugs at your heart.

Tree of Life

An exploration of grand themes such as growing up, dealing with loss, and the origin of the universe, Terrence Malick's breathtaking film is not short on ambition. Somehow he manages to bring together the frustrations of youth, the dilemmas of parenthood and dinosaurs in a seamless manner that feels more like a tone poem than a narrative. The film begins with the death of a child and evolves into a meditation on the origin of life and the promises of death. It is not an easy viewing, especially for moviegoers used to Hollywood films with traditional screenplays and structure, but it is rewarding. I doubt any other film this year will challenge me as much as this one did, or get me thinking about it as much after it is finished.

Here are my submissions for worst films of the year so far. If these are not nominated for Razzies next year, it will be for one of two reasons: 1) far worse films will be released between now and December 31, or 2) the Razzie voters don't actually watch movies.

Bad Teacher

With a premise full of promise, Bad Teacher had the chance to be a good movie. But it jumped off the rails as soon as it began with a title sequence that looked haphazard and cliche. In this movie, Diaz plays a gold digging teacher whose fiance gets wise to her plans and dumps her before they make it to the altar. She's forced to go back to the classroom to survive and immediately finds a new sugar daddy in a rich substitute teacher with a heart of gold played by Justin Timberlake. Part of what makes this movie so awful is the way it uses the real life relationship past between Diaz and Timberlake to create tension between the characters. But mostly, it's the cheap jokes that feel like a rip off of better raunchy comedies and a protagonist that is so unlikable she becomes irredeemable.

Just Go With It

Inspired by the terrific late 60s romp Cactus Flower, starring Walter Matthau and Goldie Hawn, the only thing this turd is missing is Kate Hudson. Seriously. Adam Sandler continues a string of awful films with this one, in which he stars as a lovelorn cosmetic surgeon who uses a wedding ring and sob stories about an imaginary abusive wife to woo women into the sack. Things get complicated when he meets the lust -- I mean love -- of his life in Sports Illustrated swimsuit cover model Brooklyn Decker, who finds the ring when he's not wearing it and gets angry at him for being married and sleeping with her. So, Sandler gets his nurse assistant (Jennifer Aniston) and her kids involved on an elaborate lie that eventually takes the gang to Hawaii on an awkward family vacation. This is an uncomfortable movie with shallow performances all around. Only one other movie has made me groan more times in disgust this year.

Sucker Punch

I like Zach Snyder's audacious directing style with its fetishistic imagery, slow-mo, camera whirling and all. Sucker Punch, though, was a major miscalculation. This film is both incomprehensible and pretentious. The story is about Babydoll, who is thrown into an asylum by her abusive stepfather. The asylum, populated by evil doctors, stern nurses, etc, is eventually transformed into a burlesque club in which Babydoll becomes the new dancing girl. Don't worry, it didn't make much sense to me either. The rest of the movie is a video game mess in which Babydoll dances in order for her group of friends to steal items needed for escape. Snyder wants to make a movie about girl power, female objectification and the like, but his images of hot girls in fetish outfits doesn't prove his point so much as contradicts it. This is a movie for video game obsessed teens needing hot girl images for their spank banks.

Transformers 3: Dark of the Moon

Stupid, thoughtless, misogynist, contradictory, and childish, Michael Bay's Transformers 3 is an lame-brained special-effects extravaganza packaged like an epic adventure in the vein of Lord of the Rings and Saving Private Ryan. Half the movie is spent with unlikable characters talking about the fate of the world at the hands of talking robots. The story involves a US cover-up of the Transformer presence in the late 1960s. In the present day, our intrepid hero, Sam (Shia LeBoeuf) becomes the first Ivy League grad with a hot girlfriend we're supposed to feel sorry for because he can't find a job after saving the world a couple times (a fact he can't help but share in every scene). Eventually Sam is reunited with his Autobot friends, just in time to get involved in yet another epic battle in which he runs, screams, and watches ugly robots fight so he can later tell people how he saved the world. Did I say that this movie is stupid?

The Zookeeper

Had this just been a movie about talking animals, I would have been much nicer to it. After all, kids' films are seldom great entertainment once you reach the age of 13 (with exceptions like Babe and anything in the Pixar canon). But The Zookeeper was particularly offensive because of the way it uses its kid-friendly premise to make a movie about a middle-aged schmuck with relationship problems. The talking animals are always talking about adult things that the target audience for a film like this can't relate to. As a result, everything bad about this movie becomes uncomfortable and offensive, from the PG sex jokes to the stereotypical animal humor, to the blatant product placement (TGI Fridays does not have pool tables!). I hated this movie, and even though Kevin James is a likable star, and Rosario Dawson is a ravishing beauty, they could not save this piece of monkey shit.

Here's hoping we get more wonderful films in the second half of the this year. There are a few titles to look forward to. Here are a few that are on my radar.

Moneyball, starring Brad Pitt and Jonah Hill in the true life story of how stats changed the game of baseball forever.

War Horse, Steven Spielberg's first feature film since 2008, about a boy and his horse during WWI.

30 Minutes or Less with Jesse Eisenberg as a hapless pizza delivery driver who gets caught up in a couple idiots' plans to rob a bank.

The Descendents, Alexander Payne's new film starring George Clooney as a man who has to learn how to raise his family when his wife becomes hospitalized with a terminal illness.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, David Fincher's remake of the hit Swedish film. The trailer looks amazing, and I'm pretty much down to see anything made by the impressive Fincher (Seven, Fight Club, Zodiac, The Social Network).

Cap Ranks with the Best -- Reflections on "Captain America: First Avenger" (2011)

2011-07-22T15:55:00.000-07:00

Good thing his suit is CGI-retardant.

Here's the list of the great superhero films:

1. The Dark Knight
2. Spiderman 2
3. X2
4. Iron Man
5. Superman 2

Maybe it's because I'm giddy with enjoyment, or because my love for the hero goes all the way back to the halcyon days of my youth, but I'm ready to place Captain America: The First Avenger at number 5, ahead of the classic Superman 2 and all it's Zod-related goodness.

Captain America is, simply put, a delight. It's an old fashioned superhero yarn with none of the cynicism, none of the angst, and none of the pretension most of the recent crop of comic book films have had. It tells a straightforward story, doesn't bog us down in tons of tedious details, and gives us a protagonist we not only can root for, but love.

The last time I fell in love with a hero in a movie was Tony Stark in the first Iron Man, but that was because he was so charismatic that I fell under his spell. Steve Rogers, on the other hand, is the quintessential underdog whom, even after he's been augmented by the Super Soldier experiment, still manages to remain humble, genuine and good. It's not the wholesome goodness of Christopher Reeves' Clark Kent/Superman; it's a rugged goodness, like that of an honorable knight.

Besides the protagonist, though, there is much to love about this film. From the set design to the inspiring score by Alan Silvestri to the excellent character performances by Tommy Lee Jones, Stanley Tucci, Hugo Weaving and Hayley Atwell, Captain America is a comic book/movie fan's treat.

Basics: Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) is a 90-lb. weakling who has the heart of a warrior. He wants nothing more than to become a soldier to fight the Nazis in World War II, but due to a series of ailements, the least of which is ashtma, Steve continually gets rejected 4F. After meeting scientist Dr. Erskine (Stanley Tucci), Steve is accepted into the military to be a part of an experiment to create super soldiers. The experiment works and he becomes Captain America, a great American hero. From there he falls in love, meets a slew of friends and comrades-in-arms, and goes toe-to-toe with the nefarious Red Skull (Hugo Weaving).

Classic Storytelling Techniques: One of the best things about Captain America is the use of montage to show the passing of time. It helps solve the problem most superhero origin stories have, which is having to front load exposition just to make the main story understandable (this is why so many of the best superhero films are sequels, because sequels don't have this problem). Once Steve becomes Cap, director Joe Johnston uses montages to show how Steve develops as a character. He doesn't get the chance to immediately become a hero, being given the choice to either become a laboratory guinea pig, or become a costumed spokesman for war bonds. Later, we get another montage showing his pursuit of the Red Skull's Hydra bases, which results in some fun explosions and special effects without the tedious necessity of setting up each mission. The use of these montages is very similar to 1940s/50s war films and not only propels this story, but serves as a wonderful tribute to the golden age of cinema.

A Strong Female Presence: One of the biggest problems with superhero films in general is the lack of strong female characters. Usually, most superheroes are men, so the women are delegated to basic roles, like supporting friend and love interest. They often get the lamest dialogue and become plot props of the woman-in-peril variety. Even in the best superhero films, like The Dark Knight and Spiderman 2 we see this happen. In Captain America, the female lead, Peggy Carter (Hayley Atwell) is more than a love interest. She's a British agent on assignment to assist the American Army. She is highly trained, holds her own against the men, and yet is still allowed to be feminine. Atwell plays Carter with a remarkable external strength that belies an inner sensitivity. The way the film builds her relationship with Steve Rogers is beautiful, and makes the pay off both memorable and tragic. It's rare that you can call a female in a male superhero movie essential, but Peggy Carter absolutely is.

Avengers Assemble!: One of my biggest concerns about Captain America when I first learned that it would be set in the 1940s was how they would connect his character to The Avengers film coming next year. After all, Iron Man, Hulk and Thor all took place in the current timeline and all had interactions with Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson). Well, I should have be a bit more trusting. Not only does Captain America connect cleanly to The Avengers, it establishes a context for the team's existence, and gives the cinematic Marvel Universe a history. I like how Tony Stark's father plays a central role in the creation of Cap and his fight against Hydra. And I love how the conclusion of the film sets the stage for not only Cap's involvement in the Avengers, but the evolution of his character. All this, plus The Avengers trailer tagged on to the end of the credits make me extremely excited for next summer.

I will no doubt have to re-watch Captain America a few more times to determine where it fits in the pantheon of super hero movies, but the fact that I'm so avid to see it again assures me that it does indeed rank right up there with the best.

A Grand Finale -- Reflections on "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2" (2011)

2011-07-21T14:12:00.000-07:00

"Oh, Harry, how I do want a nose like yours. Sigh."

I became a Harry Potter fan the moment I opened J.K. Rowling's first novel about the boy wizard. Her style was a joy to behold as she weaved a magic spell over me with every page, detailing a fantasy world where wizards and other magical creatures dwelled in the midst of a devastating conflict that seemed to have real world consequences. With each novel, Potter became more interesting to me, the world more complex and compelling, and the conflict deeper and darker. His final standoff with He Who Must Not Be Named is classic.

The movies, on the other hand, had always been hit-and-miss for me. Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone was a decent introduction, but felt clumsy at time. Chamber of Secrets was a mess, which I blame squarely on director Chris Columbus and his dire need to make family friendly films. I felt Prisoner of Azkaban was a phenomenal effort, although it revealed that shortcomings of the films in terms of diving into all the corners of Rowling's world. And the fact that Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings trilogy did so much with Tolkien's fantasy classic only served to spotlight the Potter film series' weaknesses.

When director David Yates took over with Goblet of Fire, the series began to take off and become something unique. It found its style -- dark, gritty, with just a touch of Spielberg magic (sans Spielberg). The films got longer, giving the writing team more time to play with characters and actually develop them. While the first three films felt like episodes, the last few have felt like a continuing saga, which has made them just as compelling as the source material.

The last installment of the film franchise, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2, is easily the best of the franchise. It should be, as it is the epic climax of a story that has been building for five movies. Deathly Hallows is a grand fantasy epic that puts the franchise to bed in a beautiful and sincere way. The characters' arcs are fulfilled, the ending is satisfying, and the Rowling's world is fully realized. Even a couple nitpicks on my part can do nothing to cast a pall on this excellent film.

Basics: Harry Potter and his co-dependent friends, Ron and Hermoine, are still on the hunt for horcruxes, those objects that magically contain pieces of Voldemort's soul. If Harry can destroy them all, he can kill Voldemort. His adventure -- finally -- takes him back to Hogwarts where the good wizards must face off against the bad in a battle royale on Hogwarts. Along the way we get abused dragons, bitchy ghosts, and one of the best flashbacks in movie history.

Characters Rule: One of the pleasant surprises of Deathly Hallows is the way it wraps up stories for a number of supporting characters. Most particularly, I enjoyed the arcs of Neville Longbottom -- who started the series as a clumsy buffoon who seemed to have little to none wizarding skill but ends the story as much a hero as anyone for the sacrifices he makes -- and Professor McGonagall -- who finally gets to show off her magic skill when she casts a massive protective spell over Hogwarts. Other characters also shine, like Luna Lovegood, and even Draco Malfoy, who has always annoyed, but comes across in this film as somewhat tragic.

Voldemort May Be the Best Villain Ever: There is something awful about Voldemort, or He Who Must Not Be Named, that goes beyond simply being bad. Maybe it's his serpentine features, or the fact that he is truly bi-polar. Or maybe it has to do with how wonderful his plan for immortality is. No matter how you shake it, Voldemort is quite memorable, and in this film actor Ralph Fiennes gets the chance to flex his acting muscles. Whether he's violent, brooding, or gloating, he chews the screen and spits it out with gusto. I loved every moment Voldemort was on screen, and imagine my love for his performance will only grow with age.

Nitpicks and Asides: One huge nitpick for me came in the first act, as Harry, Ron and Hermoine try to negotiate their way into Gringott's bank to break into the vault of Bellatrix LeStrange, looking for a horcrux. Hermoine has disguised herself as Bellatrix, and upon appearing before the goblin bankers all she's asked for to prove her identity is her wand. Earlier in the film, Harry showed the wand maker, Ollivander, that he had Bellatrix's wand, yet when at Gringott's the wand is curiously absent. As a result, Ron has to resort to some dumb hijinxs. I was willing to forgive because the following sequence was super cool, but for some reason I can't understand how the writer, director, continuity editors, and all the others involved on the film missed this point. Oh well.

In addition, it was fun to see how the characters turn out after the story is over. Harry looks suspiciously like a middle aged Robin Williams in the film's epilogue, and Ron and Hermoine look ready to go on Jerry Springer. So much fun there. And, thankfully, the filmmakers avoided having characters do a celebratory dance at the end. Some critics may hate 3-D (count me among them), but I have come to deeply loathe the trend in childrens' movies to have characters dance and sing. I sincerely expected to see house elves and goblins singing and dancing over the end credits. Their absence only made me love this film more.

A Killer Tire Blows People Up ... For No Reason -- Reflections on "Rubber" (2011)

2011-07-11T18:19:00.000-07:00

Watch out, coppers, Robert's about to blow shit up!

Why was E.T. brown? Why didn't the victims use the restroom and wash their hands in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre? Why did the shooter kill JFK?

These are the sorts of questions asked right off the top in Rubber.

And the answer is just as strange as the questions themselves: "no reason."

"This film is a homage to the 'no reason,'" Lieutenant Chad tells a group of spectators armed with binoculars and rampant curiosity. And this film most certainly lives up to its billing. Everything happens seemingly for no reason, from characters randomly spilling water to car tires suddenly taking on a life of their own.

Rubber is strange, absurd, frustrating, and simply awesome. I can't remember the last time I watched a movie and found myself saying: "I've never seen this before."

Basics: A tire named Robert comes to life and discovers he has psychokinetic powers. He rolls and shimmies his way around the desert, blowing up rabbits and birds until he lays eyes on the beautiful Sheila (Roxane Mesquida). He follows her to a desert motel where he tries to make his move, but every time he is cockblocked, he exacts his revenge. Why does all this happen? No reason.

Sending a Message to Hollywood: One of the cool tricks up director Quentin Dupieux's sleeve in Rubber is his willingness to break the fourth wall and acknowledge that we are watching a film. The film opens with a group of people hanging out in the desert, watching the events of this film unfold. They are surrogates for the audience and go through the same crap we do when we go to a movie -- incessant talking by know-it-alls, clamoring kids dragged into an inappropriate movie by dumb parents, and obnoxious teenagers. They are nonplussed by what they are seeing, inviting us to make the connection -- movies these days are total shit. Halfway through the film we discover that the exhibitors/producers of this film have a evil plan for the audience, which seems to imply that not only does Hollywood produce crap, but that the studios want to kill us with it, too. The satire is funny and sharp. Just wait until you watch the group of spectators tear into a turkey like the zombies from Night of the Living Dead. It's sublime.

On Building Character: Having just endured both Transformers 3 and The Zookeeper, Rubber came as a breath of fresh air. It was amazing to me that in 82 minutes, this film was able to take an inanimate object and make it a more fleshed-out, interesting character than any of those other films had to offer, either human or non. By the end of the film, you actually come to care for Robert, our homicidal tire. He's impulsive, angry, romantic, and curious, yet he never says a word or has any CGI expressions. All we're given is a vibration and a few clever sound effects when he's using his powers and it's evident what he's thinking and feeling. There's something strangely touching, albeit remarkably perverse, as we watch Robert spend some time peeping on an unsuspecting Sheila as she gets ready to take a shower in a desert motel. Robert just wants to be loved. And he's willing to blow up a lot of heads to get it.

Look for Other Homages: One of the fun things about Rubber is that the filmmakers give shout-outs to other films as well, from the exploitation films of Roger Corman to the Night of the Living Dead. Upon re-watch, I'm sure other tributes will become more evident, but on my first viewing, I saw visual nods to The Graduate, Psycho, Leaving Las Vegas, E.T. Rear Window, Duel and Christine. Obviously Quentin Dupieux loves movies, and it shows throughout Rubber.

A Reheated Turd -- Reflections on "The Zookeeper" (2011)

2011-07-10T01:35:00.000-07:00

Watching The Zookeeper sort of feels like this for 100 minutes.

On the most recent episode of South Park, Stan is at the doctor's office because suddenly his favorite music is starting to sound like shit -- literally. The doctor decides to run a test in which he shows Stan two pictures, one of a turd in a microwave oven, and the other of an ad for Kevin James' new comedy The Zookeeper.

Doctor: "Which one is the ad for The Zookeeper?"

Stan: "They both look the same?"

Doctor: "You don't see any difference in the pictures?"

Stan: "No."

Doctor: (holding up one picture of a turd in a microwave) "That is an ad for The Zookeeper and (holding up the other picture) that is a turd about to be reheated."

Stan: "They both look like turds about to be reheated to me."

I couldn't have said it any better myself.

The Zookeeper is the latest in a long line of lame entertainments geared towards children that is neither appropriate for children or acceptable for adults. It is a gross, offensive, sexist, and simply awful movie -- if you want to call it that. I think it's more accurate to call it a turd in a microwave. We've seen this crap before, from Eddie Murphy's lame Dr. Doolittle to -- most recently -- the Night at the Museum movies with Ben Stiller.

Basics: Griffin Keyes (Kevin James) is a schmuck who happens to be an exceptional zookeeper. When the woman who rejected his marriage proposal five years earlier returns to his life, he discovers a group of surprising allies in the form of talking zoo animals. The animals, afraid Griffin -- their favorite zookeeper -- will leave the zoo, decide to reveal they can speak in order to help him become the alpha male and win his unrequited lover's heart. There's also a storyline about another zookeeper named Kate (Rosario Dawson) who loves Griffin, and another about a zookeeper named Shane (Donnie Wahlberg) who likes to torture the animals. If you can't figure out how this movie ends based on this bare bones summary, then this is the movie for you.

Talking Animals Suck: I have never seen a live-action movie about talking animals that I like. The best animal movie ever was The Incredible Journey, and guess what? Those animals didn't talk! The animals in this movie, aided by CGI lip movements, feel like bad ventriloquist dummies voiced by Sylvester Stallone, Nick Nolte, Adam Sandler and Cher. The reason animated animals are better is simple: the animators have control over the facial expressions of the animals. In this movie, the animals' lips move, but there is nothing else there, destroying the illusion. How could director Frank Coraci not realize this at some point? Oh, wait, I forgot. Frank Coraci is also responsible for directing other reheated turds like Around the World in 80 Days and Click (to be fair, he did direct The Wedding Singer, but that movie's success was due more to Drew Barrymore and Adam Sandler's chemistry than Coraci's mediocre direction).

Ken Jeong is Officially Annoying: Jeong, who was one of the standouts in The Hangover and is one of the best parts of NBC's awesome comedy Community, has been in three of the worst films this summer. Transformers, Hangover II, and now The Zookeeper. In each he plays a variation on the same role -- a smarmy, perverted misanthrope whose only job is to gross out the audience, whether it be with his penis in The Hangover, or an inappropriate hair sniffing in this film. I have become tired of his schtick, and now find him significantly more annoying than Rob Schneider -- which I never thought possible.

I Feel Sorry for Kids These Days: It seems that if a family movie doesn't come from Pixar, it isn't any good. So many "kids" film seem to have premises that are perfect for kids, but with execution that feels more adult. The Zookeeper should be a fun movie about a zookeeper who spends time getting to know the talking animals. Instead, it's a movie about an idiot getting relationship advice from other idiots disguised as animals. Does a kids' movie really need to be about adult relationships? Of the five screenwriters attached to this movie, which one said "Y'know, I just know the kids'll dig this movie about a man trying to overcome a 5-year depression after being dumped by a woman as he proposes to her; that's something they can all relate to." Instead of developing the zoo animals, which are the only characters the kids can actually relate to (since they're in captivity all day), this movie makes them annoying caricatures based on the simplest understanding of each beast's characteristics. I wish Coraci and company had spent some time watching Nick Park's ingenious Creature Comforts before filming. It may have saved this picture.

It would be easy just to dismiss The Zookeeper as a bad movie. It was worse than bad, though -- it was flat out unpleasant. Every moment felt insincere and forced, from the over-the-top marriage proposal (somehow done on a zookeeper's salary) to the blatant shilling for TGI Fridays to the insanely cliched ending. This film is insulting, making the assumption that families don't deserve better. They do. Much better.

About the only cliche The Zookeeper doesn't touch upon is a monkey throwing turds at someone. It's only at the end of the film, as the blooper reel rolls with the credits, that you realize a turd did indeed get thrown -- the one you just spent $10 to see.

You Win, Michael Bay! (But I Still Hate Your Movie) -- Reflections on "Transformers 3: Dark of the Moon" (2011)

2011-07-06T23:32:00.000-07:00

Third verse: same as the first!

Michael Bay has officially beaten my brain into submission.

About halfway through Transformers 3: Dark of the Moon, I saw an Autobot turn into a flying vehicle and make the same manuever Doc Brown did at the end of Back to the Future when he picked up Marty and his girlfriend to whisk them off to the future. It was so unintentionally funny in its execution, and so annoying that Bay would attempt to evoke one of my favorite movies in his bullshit cash grab that I turned my mind off and just put up with the rest of his movie.

I believe this is what Michael Bay wants from his viewers. He wants them to sit down, shut up and tune out. And I guess Americans must want it this way, too. Transformers is one of the highest grossing franchises in movie history, and based on the clapping from the audience after the movie was over, I figure I am in the minority.

Transformers is not a movie for people like me. You would think that it is. It is about the toys of my youth, so it gets the nostalgia vote. It has hot chicks, big explosions, sci-fi geekery, and all the rest of the fantasy tropes I typically gush over. Yet, for some reason, I find them about as despicable as Kate Hudson movies, the Twilight franchise, and Mac and Me.

Upon reflection, here are a couple reasons:

1. Blatant jingoism: Michael Bay has no subtlety in his presentation of patriotism. It's not that I am not patriotic, but his use of patriotic imagery borders on blatant propaganda. During one scene in Transformers 3, an Autobot protects a statue of our nation's founding fathers in Chicago, as if robots give a shit about American pride. In addition, tattered flags are constantly waving, and he intentionally chooses to have his villains destroy American landmarks in order to establish their villainy.

2. Women as objects: Okay, I feel like a hypocrite here. I like movies like Piranha, Grindhouse, and Machete, which have no issues looking at women as sex objects. Yet, Bay holds his camera on his new starlet, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley mainly from lower angles like he's a dirty eight-year old dropping quarters so he can look up girls' skirts. And since this is a PG-13 film targeting children under 13, it is incredibly irresponsible. At least our exploitative filmmakers like Alexandre Aja, Quentin Tarantino, and Robert Rodriguez have the decency to get their films rated R.

Nonetheless, if you've read this far, chances are likely I'm preaching to the choir. I realized as I watched this new Transformers that it doesn't matter what anyone says about Michael Bay and his movies; he shoots on teflon celluloid. The fact that people flock to see his spectacles says more about American civilization than it does about him.

Basics: Apparently, our government has known about the Transformers since the 1960s. During an epic battle for their planet of Cybertron, the Autobots send a refugee ship carrying a special weapon to escape the clutches of the tyrannical Decepticons. Unfortunately this ship is attacked, and it shipwrecks on our moon where Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin discover it upon the first landing. Now, after a serious cover-up which the government didn't feel necessary to reveal during either of the first two films as the world faced imminent destruction (Ahhhh, there goes my brain again!), the Autobots have to race to the moon to recover the source of the weapon's power, Sentinel Prime. Meanwhile, Sam Witwicky (Shia LeBeouf) has a new girlfriend (Rosie Huntington-Whiteley) but no job; apparently, saving the world doesn't count for much on a resume these days. He learns of the government conspiracy and manages to get back involved with the big, bad robots, leading to all-out warfare for world domination. There's more, but it is mostly nonsense involving more government conspiracy, robot politics, and an unecessary love triangle -- and all of it gets in the way of the action and manages to turn this movie into a 2 1/2 hour epic.

What Happened to Megan Fox?: I'm sure most of you know the story. Megan Fox got removed from the Transformers family after comparing Michael Bay to Hitler. My understanding is that Steven Spielberg, who's an Executive Producer for the franchise, was offended by the comparison and fired her. What makes this interesting is the way writer Ehren Krueger explains her character's absence. According to Sam, Mikaela flat out dumped him in a bitchy way. She is referred to as a bitch more than once, and there is not one positive thing said about her. Moral: don't piss Michael Bay off or you get punked on the big screen.

What Happened to the Racism?: One of my biggest problems with the second film of this franchise was the awful Homey-Bots, Skids and Mudflap. Thankfully, Michael Bay decided to forego any obvious cultural stereotypes (like a Mexican Transformer that turns into a pick-up truck with lawnmowers in the back). Yet, he manages to get all sorts of more subtle stereotypes in there, like an Irish robot that dresses in green, bad guy robots with dreadlocks, and the Jersey bot. Wait! There I go again, thinking...

Positive Thoughts: I didn't see this in 3-D, but one of the benefits of the 3-D film process is that Bay couldn't edit the film as scattershot as the first two. Shots needed to be longer in order to allow for the depth perception of the 3-D to register with viewers. As a result, the film doesn't feel as frenetic, and we get to see more of the action. This brought out the clarity and complexity of the effects. One of my biggest complaints of the first two films was that the robot battles felt confusing -- all the mechanical parts seemed to blend into each other, making it hard to distinguish the fighters. Not so bad in this one. The robots are still ugly, and the Decepticons don't seem unique enough, but at least we can see them a bit better.

All of this to say that Transformers 3: Dark of the Moon sucked. Yet, somehow, Michael Bay still wins.

Pretentious Masterpiece? Yes, on Both Counts -- Reflections on "The Tree of Life" (2011)

2011-07-05T15:06:00.000-07:00

A Must-See on the big screen, for reasons only this image can explain...

A good film is an experience. A great film is a definitive experience.

The Tree of Life is a great film.

Like Kubrick's masterpiece, 2001: A Space Odyssey, The Tree of Life is startling, perplexing, and challenging. And like 2001, it does not tell much of a story -- it's more-or-less a cinematic poem about life, death, and all the messed up stuff in between. Director Terrence Malick has given us a window into his soul by trying to show us the events that shape the soul. It is powerful, moving, and spectacular.

A friend of mine asked me if Tree of Life was a masterpiece, or a pretentious piece of shit. My answer to this question most definitely has to be: both. I would have to omit the "piece of shit" part because that doesn't apply, but Malick's film is both a work of art, and quite pretentious. Any film that takes on the not-so-subtle themes it addresses, in the way it addresses them, almost certainly has to be pretentious. I contend that all great art is pretentious on some level -- it almost has to be, because greatness has to aspire to be great, and the greats are almost always aware of how great they are.

It must be said that Tree of Life is not for everyone. It is for people with deep minds who love to think about heavy ideas and both appreciate and analyze the things of this world. This is a movie for lovers of art and science, who love to engage in heady debates about the meanings of things. It is not for people who believe Transformers: Dark of the Moon is an excellent movie. Whereas Transformers and its action-packed brethren are junk food on par with Milk Duds and Sweetarts, The Tree of Life is a gourmet dinner of filet mignon. Is that pretentious? Yes. Does it change the fact that the gourmet dinner is better than junk food? No.

Basics: This is a film without much of a plot, but here's a brief synopsis. Jack (Sean Penn) is an adult who is trying to come to grips with his life and his relationships with his parents after the death of his younger brother. Malick's script takes us back to his childhood where young Jack learns to hate, fear and love Father (Brad Pitt) while falling in love with and resenting Mother (Jessica Chastain). The film takes lengthy detours to show how exactly Jack got to be where he is, going all the way back to the beginning of time (the Big Bang, early evolution, dinosaurs, etc.). Terrence Malick makes it pretty clear that our being here is a miracle of both science and faith, and how we choose to live our lives is a product of both, too.

Questions of Point-of-View: Throughout the film, one of the most interesting elements of Malick's screenplay is the switch of perspective. We hear a lot of characters whisper in voice-over. This leads me to believe that while this story is most certainly Jack's, the perspective we're witnessing it from is in fact God's. It's almost as if Malick is trying to imagine how God -- if such a thing exists -- views His creation from start to finish. It's a daring choice if that was the intention, and makes the film ripe for further analysis. I love the idea that Malick does this, though -- because it enables us to view a story in a way movies are seldom capable of achieving: with detached interest.

A Window Into the Soul: Unlike other films by Malick, like Badlands and Days of Heaven, Tree of Life feels remarkably personal. I sense that Malick is working out his own issues with his parents and family in this movie. He sees the parents as archetypes that he must come to grips with -- his mother as the free-spirit, his father as the Authority. It's in these interpretations of the characters that I was able to see a bit of myself, which made the experience all the more moving. Also, as a native Texan, Malick brings to life the streets of his hometown in all their glory. The setting feels like something nostalgic, although you can't quite be sure that any of what's happening is actually worth longing for.

On Moviegoing Experience: I don't usually mention this, but there is a distinct difference between seeing a movie on the big screen versus watching at home. Home theater has gotten to the point where most movies are actually more enjoyable at home. But some films are meant for a big screen with its bright colors and immersive experience. Tree of Life is one of those films. It is a visual spectacle, which I think will be lost in translation on the small screen. Granted, it will be appreciated, but like 2001 before it, you need to be swallowed by the film for it to have its fullest effect. Because it is a smaller film, despite its impressive acting and directing pedigree, you will be hard pressed to find theaters close to you showing it. I saw it at the Arclight Theater in Hollywood, which is Los Angeles' best theater.

Not the Teacher From My Fantasies -- Reflections on "Bad Teacher" (2011)

2011-06-27T23:32:00.000-07:00

Exactly how I felt after seeing this turd.

I imagine most teen boys have sexual fantasies about their teachers. Van Halen exploited this idea in their classic song, "Hot for Teacher," and I think the adult film industry has patented an entire genre of academic porn. I know that when I was a teenager, I enjoyed daydreaming about my Senior Anatomy and Physiology teacher (no joke). And girls are not immune to these sorts of fantasies either. Oh, the things the young ladies in my high school said about the AP History teacher...

Bad Teacher wants to take this idea and turn it into a fun, dark comedy. Unfortunately, all it has done is take a huge, steaming pile of shit that was a screenplay and turn it into a huge, steaming pile of shit called a movie. In the right hands, an idea like this could aspire to attain the heights of Terry Zwigoff's classic Bad Santa. Unfortunately, it seems as if no one involved with this film really wanted to make a good one.

The Basics: Elizabeth Halsey (Diaz) is a gold digging bitch who can't wait to leave her crappy teaching job behind and marry the rich heel she's convinced to tie the knot. Unfortunately for her, he realizes the kind of woman she is and dumps her before she can screw him forever. Elizabeth returns to her thankless job with the idea that if she can make enough money to get a boob job, she can woo the rich new substitute teacher, Scott Delacorte (Timberlake) and find a new sugar daddy to rescue her from the banality of a career. Along the way she has to put up with a type-A teacher (Lucy Punch), a simpering lackey (Phyllis Smith), and a gym teacher (Jason Segel) who wants to hook up with her.

Main Character Misfire: There's a lot that's wrong with the movie. But the number one problem is the main character. I get that Elizabeth is supposed to be unlikable, but creating a movie with an unlikable protagonist that is expected the carry the story is hard, and the movie fails. On some level, we should be able to get behind Elizabeth and care somewhat for her, even with all of her rotten behavior. Sure, she smokes pot, gets drunk in class, lets the kids watch movies constantly, and insults everyone she barely cares to notice unless they offer her something. But underneath that we should be able to see a person we can root for. Diaz plays Elizabeth as a conniving, wicked, horror show, and as a result it's no fun following her.

By contrast, if you go back to Billy Bob Thornton's performance in Bad Santa, you'll find a character every bit as vile, but pathetic. We feel sorry for him as he drinks, whores, and throws his life away. No such luck for Elizabeth, who I really just wanted to see get punched in the face.

Missed Opportunities: What could have redeemed this movie are the kids. If you remember the movie School of Rock, you'll no doubt remember the colorful cast of kids -- Zach the reluctant guitarist, Lawrence the shy Asian keyboardist, and Summer the teacher's pet. They provided the necessary foil for Jack Black's equally repulsive protagonist, Dewey Finn, who pretends to be a substitute teacher to get a group of kids to become his rock band. You will not remember any of the kids in this film, which is a shame, because a good writer would have considered how to mine that particular goldmine. A teacher as bad as Elizabeth needs to interact with her students to reveal how truly bad she is. Merely getting caught smoking weed by the class suck-up isn't enough.

Miscellaneous Thoughts: I was really struck by how poorly put together this movie was, from the cliched title sequence with its song about teachers (featuring all cast and crew names scribbled in flawless teacher's chalky handwriting) to the uninteresting visuals and the rushed editing job. It's almost as if this film was put together as a cash grab. It was an insult, and a complete waste of my time.

To give you an example of how poorly done this film was, there's a scene in which three teachers are smoking a joint in the gymnasium during a school dance. Each time the joint is passed around, it's a different size. In some shots, the roach is tiny, in others it looks like it has just been rolled. Pathetic attention to detail. And even more importantly, one of the film's major comedic sequences -- involving a dry hump -- comes out of left field with no character motivation behind it at all. It was as if the director, Jake Kasdan (who has made some good movies, like Orange County and Zero Effect) knew he had a turd on his hands and just said, "Fuck it, let's just have Diaz and Timberlake dry hump -- it's not like anyone in the audience will be intelligent enough to realize how stupid it is."

In the end, I wanted a film that had as much fun messing around with adolescent fantasies about their teachers as we all did when we were in school. All I got instead was Cameron Diaz dry humping and stealing money from anonymous children to buy herself a pair of tits.

True Blood -- Episode 4.1 -- "She's Not There"

2011-06-27T11:26:00.000-07:00

Bill's better as a bad ass.

What a difference a year makes, huh?

Season 4 of True Blood began tonight in a grand fashion, with HBO airing not only the premiere, but also the second episode on their HBO premium website for subscribers. I will not be discussing the second episode, "You Smell Like Dinner" until next week after it officially airs. In the meantime, let me tease that the second episode is one of the best episodes of the entire series.

Episode one, "She's Not There," is a terrific season opener. It brings quick closure to last season's dangling plot threads and introduces some excellent new ones. The pacing felt tighter and more constructive than in a few of last season's meandering episodes, and our characters have been given a chance to breathe and develop on their own without the pressures of plot machinations. Overall, it feels like the writers of True Blood took a long hard look at their product and figured out how to play to their strengths. This makes me very excited for the season to unfold.

Fun Times in Faery Land

A lot of the criticism of season 3 was the inclusion of Sookie's trip to Faery Land, which my girlfriend immediately said looked like the set of a douche commercial. Having read the novels by Charlaine Harris, I was already privvy to the twist that Sookie was half-faery, so I was never particularly bothered. I did think the sets were a little too cheesy, even for True Blood, and felt that they made the faeries seem way too nice and merry. I felt the writers were holding a little too close to the cliche of faeries as Disney-esque nymphs.

Upon re-watch I realized how wrong I was about the way the scenes were handled. Firstly, there were only two scenes in Faery Land during season 3 -- when Sookie was in her coma, and during Bill's post-coital bliss after drinking way too much of Sookie's blood. The images were so indelible that it seemed like the show spent more time there than it actually did. Secondly, the faery scenes are pretty dark and ominous. They are actually set in the Bon Temps Cemetery, with the half-naked faeries running around dancing among the graves without much of a care in the world. There's a sense about them that they actually seem to revel in death while putting on the pretense of life.

That certainly comes to play in the opener of season 4. Sookie finds herself in Faery Land, which is ripped off from the Odyssey's island of the Lotus Eaters. Among the characters we see here are old favorites, like disgruntled telepathic bell boy, Barry, and Sookie's long lost grandfather, Earl (Gary Cole, sans shirt, tie, and TPS reports). We also meet a new character, the evil Queen Mab (thanks Shakespeare!), who tries to force Sookie to eat a light fruit. Fortunately, Sookie resists and removes the Emperor's clothes, revealing Faery Land to be as desolate as ... Joshua Tree! We discover that while Queen Mab wants to separate all faeries from the earthly realm, there is a rogue faction of faeries that want to integrate with humans much as all the other supernaturals creatures on the show have. This group helps Sookie escape back to Bon Temps, where she learns something shocking.

Get Out of Jail Free Cards Sometimes Work!

Probably the biggest issue many people will have with season 4's beginning is the twist that Sookie's excursion in Faery Land cost her 12 and a half months of time in Bon Temps, during which its residents got some much needed R&R from the writer's room plot factory. The events of the the first three seasons probably took place over the course of a couple months of real time, so the characters needed a break to regroup.

I imagine most critics will see this as a cop out on the writers' part. And maybe it is. I'd prefer to think that it's the writers' way of letting us know that Sookie is the real problem here, and that all the trouble that usually befalls Bon Temps is her fault. It seems that the moment she's gone, everyone's life settles down. The moment she returns, bad shit starts up again. Weird how that happens.

I think the reboot works, for the most part. It did require a lot of exposition for the first half of the episode in order for us to get caught up with the characters Sookie left behind, but it also allowed us to be as frazzled and shocked as Sookie herself by the developments. Even though this cast is expansive, Sookie is still our representative, and her surprise is ours as well. So, the reboot not only gave the show a chance to relax, it also gave the writers a chance to re-establish Sookie as the protagonist. Of course, that will no doubt change as the season progresses and storylines develop, but for now it's a welcome sigh of relief.

Ch-Ch-Ch Changes

A lot changed in the year Sookie was gone. Here are the highlights:

1. Jason Stackhouse is now a full-time Deputy Sheriff who also has taken on the responsibility of tending to the rednecks in Hotshot. He seems more mature and kind-hearted, a complete 180 from the Jason of season 1. I like this change because I was never a big fan of Jason being the dumbest character east of the Mississippi.

2. Hoyt and Jessica are living together, and now seem like any other pre-married couple. They're kind of boring, but they seem to sense this, too.

3. Arlene and Terry had the baby and Arlene thinks he is a psychopath. There's a terrific scene in which she comes home to discover the little imp has ripped the heads off of her daughter's Barbies while Terry was in the crapper.

4. Tara is now a lesbian MMA fighter. I like the MMA part, but the lesbian part just feels forced and cliche. At this point it would seem a traditional, healthy heterosexual relationship would be a plot twist on True Blood.

5. Sam shot Tommy...in the leg. Sam has since joined a group of other shifters, and Tommy has moved in with Hoyt's momma. This is a nice irony seeing how much Tommy resented Hoyt in season 3.

6. Lafayette and Jesus are still together and have joined a local witches' coven. Lafayette is reluctant to do so, but Jesus encourages him to embrace his witchy ways.

But the show kept two changes for last that really had me excited.

1. Eric bought Sookie's house to keep for her in the event of her return, but also to ensure that he could never be denied entry again.

2. Bill is the Vampire King of Louisiana.

A New King Is In Town

What a shocker to learn at the episode's end that Bill is the Vampire King! I rejoiced in the twist because it means that Bill has more to offer the story now than merely being a lovelorn, overprotective boyfriend. Like at the beginning of season 3 when he had to defend himself against the wolves, Bill now seems more badass than ever. And that's a welcome change in the story. I'm really interested to see where they take this.

A Woman In Peril

Another big criticism certain to be levied against this new season is how Eric's purchase of Sookie's house has turned her into a damsel in distress. The logic is that Sookie's house has always been her haven from the vampires, to whom she could deny entrance anytime she desired. This gave her an equal standing with them to a degree by affording her a power that couldn't be taken from her. Now, though, it has been, and that has sapped her of her defining quality -- her strength.

I like the twist because it provides a remarkable obstacle for Sookie. How will she handle Eric and the vampires in light of this revelation? How can she regain her strength? Without a safe place, Sookie has to fight, giving us the source of excellent conflict. Her strength is not in her home, it is in herself. Losing her house only means that she has to find another way to gain an advantage against Eric and any other vampire longing for her tasty Faery blood.

With episode 1 in the books, I'm stoked for the rest of the season. It should be a blast!

What did you think?

True Blood is Back! -- Welcome to Season 4

2011-06-26T12:24:00.000-07:00

I've been away from my blog for awhile -- about a month or so -- but now I'm back and ready to start reviewing again. There's a lot of current films to get caught up on, so expect some new reviews over the next several days. But what most excites me is blogging about the upcoming seasons of True Blood and Breaking Bad (which returns in July). It's a treat to follow a TV show and watch it develop. And these two are particularly fun because of the quality of the storytelling and range of characters.

True Blood returns tonight with season 4! After season 3, which bugged me endlessly as I watched it last summer but somehow won me over when I re-watched it recently on Blu-ray (evidence that 1080p makes everything better), a lot of storylines are up in the air. Here's a quick run-down of where we left off:

Sookie Stackhouse (Anna Paquin) accepted the faeries' invitation to leave Earth behind and enter the faerie (douche commercial) world. Who knows how clean her privates will be when she returns to Bon Temps.

Bill (Stephen Moyer), heartbroken over losing Sookie's love the moment it was revealed he was the puppet master behind her season 1 beating by the Rattray's, decides to continue protecting her nonetheless by killing anyone with knowledge of her faerie origins. He tried -- and failed -- killing Eric, but ends the season by engaging Queen Sophie-Anne in a fight.

Eric (Alexander Skarsgard) had his revenge on Russell Edgington and now is left to pick up the pieces of his life at Fangtasia and re-build his relationship with disgruntled progeny, Pam.

Jason Stackhouse (Ryan Kwanten) fell in love with a werepanther named Crystal and found himself in the middle of a whole shitload of problems in the inbred world of Hotshot. At the end of the season, Crystal leaves him, requiring him to take over leadership of the town after her half-brother/fiancee murdered her father in cold blood. I somehow doubt Jason's remarkable intellect will make this easy.

Sam (Sam Trammell), losing his mind after discovering his family roots and realizing he is the world's biggest push-over, learns that his asshole little brother, Tommy, robbed him blind. He chases Tommy down and shoots him. Whether he killed him or not is unknown.

Tara (Rutina Wesley) has pretty much figured that everyone in Bon Temps is a monster -- Sookie's a faerie, Sam's a shifter, vampires and werewolves are all over, Jason killed her beloved Eggs, and even her human mother is fucking the minister. She decides it's probably for the best to leave it all behind and start over.

Hoyt and Jessica (Deborah Ann Woll) are back together, and Hoyt has put the down payment on a house for them to share in wedded bliss.

Alcide, the werewolf (Joesph Mangianello) repaid his debt to Eric by helping him bury Russell alive. He has fallen in love with Sookie, but still has to deal with the mess left behind by his former lover, Debbie Pelt, who wants revenge on both he and Sookie for killing her beloved wolf, Cooter.

Lafayette (Nelsen Ellis) learns from his brujo boyfriend that he, too, is a witch and needs to develop his abilities.

Arlene (Carrie Preston) tried to abort her pregnancy by testing the waters of witchcraft with new waitress Holly, but failed. Now she's trapped carrying Rene's wicked spawn while her boyfriend, Terry, can't believe how blessed he is to be building a family with her.

I think that pretty much catches up on all the hanging storylines. One of True Blood's strengths (or weaknesses, depending on your point-of-view) is the number of interesting characters it has to build on. I'm interested to see how season 4 balances all these stories while introducing us to new characters and arcs.

Here's the trailer for season 4 to whet your appetite for tonight's episode. And lastly, if you subscribe to HBO's cool site, HBOGO, you will also be able to watch the second episode of the season immediately after the first one airs tonight. Bonus!

Why I Had to Write This Review -- Reflections on "Waiting for Superman" (2010)

2011-05-13T14:15:00.000-07:00

Still waiting...

I watched Waiting for Superman, Davis Guggenheim’s excellent documentary about the failure of public education in America, a couple weeks ago and decided I didn’t want to write about it. Since I am a teacher, I’m too close to the film. It held a mirror up to my profession and made me look closely at how ugly my profession – and I, myself – have become. It’s hard to write about that sort of thing without either becoming defensive or sounding pathetic. So, I walked away from the review.

So, what brought me back, you ask.

Yesterday.

As an educator, I’ve seen a lot of very awful things. I remember being a first year middle school teacher, full of ideas, hopes and goals, only to be told that I was too ambitious by veterans. In my second year, I was “pink slipped” despite having excellent evaluations and being awarded Teacher of the Month, because of a petty difference of opinion between the Principal and myself. As a fourth year high school teacher, I was “awarded” my first Honors class, which angered other vets in my department, so I wasn’t presented with the required materials for an Honors course – reading lists, early assessment tests, etc. Eventually the vets in that department, dubbed the “English Mafia” by the students, made my life at the school impossible and I left. And these are only things that happened to me, not merely things I’ve witnessed.

I do not wash my hands of this, though. I am now a veteran, too, no longer that young buck full of ideas, energy, and an “I can save the world” attitude. I like being an island, for the most part. I get to work with my kids, teach the curriculum my way, and leave work each day on my terms. There’s comfort in this.

But, if there’s one thing I’ve always taught my students, it’s this: comfort is the enemy of education; if you’re not struggling, you’re not learning.

Yesterday, I had a situation in which one of my former students wandered into my class during sixth period, having been kicked out of class by her teacher. Apparently, I am one of her favorite teachers, so she thought I’d harbor her like a truant refugee. As expected, she claimed she was kicked out due to no fault of her own (If I had a penny for every time…). Unconvinced, I called her teacher and was given the reason: talking back.

When I asked the girl about the situation with her teacher you would have thought I’d lit a firecracker. She began recounting stories of not being allowed to use the restroom, forcing her to take matters into her own hands by leaving the room without permission; being yelled and snarled at, and mocked. The worst thing, she told me, happened during a time she tried to turn-in some late work to improve her failing grade. The teacher took the work from her hands and threw it in the trash. When the student tried to retrieve it, the teacher grabbed her hand and said, “Don’t. It’s just going back there anyway.”

In The Shawshank Redemption, there’s this line about how everyone is innocent in jail. Well, in a high school, your bad grade is always because the teacher doesn’t like you. So, when I hear stories like these, I’m usually skeptical. There’s always another side to the story, and I tend to believe most teachers do this job because they like kids and want to see them succeed.

The way my student related this story was in such a way that I could see counseling her to work it out with the teacher wasn’t going to fly. There was too much anger, and a little fear. She had never taken her complaints to a counselor, or administrator. Or, apparently, her parents. Her reason: “They don’t do anything.” She was resigned to take an ‘F,’ serve out the rest of her time this year with the teacher, and try again next August.

I told her I’d sit down with her and the teacher. Certainly, having another faculty member in the room would bring calm to the situation. The other teacher wouldn’t behave unprofessionally in front of a colleague, right?

The teacher was obviously not interested in the discussion. Immediately, she was sitting at her computer, distracting herself as my student tried to share her feelings about the situation. As my student talked, the teacher continually rolled her eyes and occasionally offered sarcastic responses. When I asked the teacher to share her feelings, my student was so offended, she kept interrupting and trying to defend herself, even calling the teacher a liar. “See what I have to deal with,” the teacher said, laughing sarcastically.

I could see. But what the teacher couldn’t see was that this was a 16-year old child. She is supposed to be immature, loudmouthed, and frustrating. Adults who work with these children every day should know this and be the bigger person, setting an example of how to be mature and respectful. It starts by showing the kids respect.

I was appalled by what I experienced. I’ve had bad days with kids, too, and I have also done some things that I regret. Maybe this was just a bad day for the teacher. Maybe she is usually kind, loving and fair. This is not an indictment of a professional’s career or ability as an educator. It is a window to the world Guggenheim paints with very dark colors in Waiting for Superman.

The world he documents exists, is cancerous, and makes me feel ashamed. I feel sorry for the kids out there, like my student, whose futures are being destroyed by a system that seldom seems to have their interests in mind.

This experience compelled me to write this review because it forced me to recognize that the problems Guggenheim exposes are in my backyard. Instead of ignoring them, I need to shed light on them. We need to change how we educate our kids. Throwing their work away isn't just unprofessional -- it's symbolic of the greater problems facing our schools, facing our children.

Basics: America’s public education system is failing. Students at elementary levels seem to do well, but by the time they hit high school, they are grade levels behind and getting progressively worse. Many schools have become “failure factories.” Part of the problem, according to Guggenheim, is a tangled system involving administrators, educators and unions that has changed the focus of our system from children to adults. Meanwhile, some excellent educators are looking at alternatives and creating charter schools that have shown significant positive results; the downside is the demand for these charters far exceeds the supply, requiring the schools to hold lotteries for families. The film follows the lives of five different families as they head for lotteries that will determine the educational future of their kids.

Tradition is the Problem: Guggenheim spends a lot of time showing how education operated in the early 20th century to make a point that the needs of children in the 1950s is not the same as the needs now. We used to have a tracked system in order to allow students who were interested in vocational education to pursue those interests and have marketable skills. Now, it has almost become essential to have a college education if you want a quality job. Hell, you can’t even get accepted into the military without a high school diploma anymore, and the military used to be the refuge of dropouts all across the nation. As educators, we are still trapped with tradition – in curriculum, in techniques, in legislation. If we don’t move forward, students will suffer, and teachers are supposed to be advocates for kids. Aren’t we?

Are Charters the Solution? Guggenheim doesn’t try to make charter schools seem like the solution to our nation’s academic problems. He sees them as a side effect of a sick academic industry. They exist as an alternative to a way of doing things that hasn’t been working. I’m inclined to agree with this, especially since charter schools can only service a limited number of kids. For every kid getting a quality charter education, we no doubt have thousands of kids trapped in public schools, getting treated similarly to my student yesterday. We need to look to charter schools for guidance on how to offer the best educational opportunities in the classroom. We need to look at how they schedule their school days, evaluate teachers, assess students, and motivate their kids. As the movie constantly points out, the solutions aren’t that difficult – it just requires a lot of sacrifice from adults who don’t want to give an inch from their own agendas.

Where Are We Headed? If I wanted to be flippant, I’d just say if you want to see what the future will be, rent Mike Judge’s hysterical film Idiocracy. But I don’t think the future is that bleak. If we continue the way we are, spending obscene amounts of money on an educational system that isn’t working, expecting unrealistic results with methodologies that worked best with our parents and grandparents, we’re probably doomed. After all, an uneducated society is one primed for destruction. But I tend to believe that there is hope. As the newer generation ages, angry about this system, the old ways will be revised and modified to benefit our kids. As the United States continues to rank poorly academically in comparison to other industrialized nations, we will eventually rise to the challenge.

I am concerned about education in America. As much as Waiting for Superman perturbed me, I see that as a sign that I am still alive, still involved, and still motivated to help students achieve. After all, when looking back at the situation with my student and her unprofessional teacher, the one thing to remember is that I was in there, too, advocating and trying to make a difference.

Woman on a Mission -- Reflections on "Conviction" (2010)

2011-05-10T12:07:00.000-07:00

No one can stop Hilary Swank when she's on a mission.

I'm not spoiling much about Conviction when I mention one of my favorite scenes comes later in the film when Betty Anne Waters (Hilary Swank) asks her two sons if they would go to the ends of the earth to help each other like she has for her own brother, Kenny (Sam Rockwell). The two boys hem-and-haw until the oldest says, definitively, "Yes." Then the younger reminds him that he would be screwing up his whole life to do so, to which the older realizes the gravity of the question. At the same moment, so does Betty Anne.

Conviction doesn't have many moments like this, but overall it is a quality movie about love, loyalty, and determination. It's also about our labyrinthine legal system that seems based more on pride and policy than on truth and justice. Both stories are interesting in their own way, a bit heavy-handed at times, and not as well-developed as they could have been. Nonetheless, this is a a decent movie with excellent performances that carry it.

Basics: Betty Anne Waters puts herself through law school in an attempt to get her brother out of prison. He was convicted of murder and sentenced to life in prison, but she could never bring herself to believe it even though the rest of the world did. This comes at great cost to Betty Anne, who loses her marriage, alienates her two boys, and nearly loses her focus on reality. With the help and support of her best friend, Abra (Minnie Driver), and the work of altruistic lawyer, Barry Scheck (Peter Gallagher), Betty Anne finds renewed focus and fight.

Hilary Swank Will Make Lifetime Movies One Day: As ferocious and convincing as Swank is in this role, she's beginning to make a habit of taking on topical roles of "true life" strong women. I feel bad making this observation because at least she's trying to play different sorts of characters that are not of the typical male fantasy vibe. At the same time, because the roles are so topical (i.e. Boys Don't Cry, Freedom Writers) it's hard to overlook. There's no doubt she has considerable talent, and my hope is that one day she'll work with some great filmmakers who can give her an amazing script that will be an even greater showcase for her abilities. Otherwise, it won't be long before she starts her own genre of movies -- The Hilary Swank True Life Feminist Film.

Sam Rockwell Is Under-appreciated: After seeing Rockwell in Moon, and before that in Iron Man 2, it has become evident to me that Rockwell does not get the love he deserves from critics and fans. He is versatile and unique, bringing an ease to his performances that has to be the product of hard work. As Kenny Waters, Rockwell portrays a man who is charismatic, charming, yet also quite the asshole. In one scene, he is in a bar, dancing with his newborn daughter. We're on his side. When he bumps into a customer and is insulted for his clumsiness, Kenny hands off his baby girl and proceeds to deliver a beat down. Immediately he becomes detestable. But, not to be trumped, Kenny returns to his family and manages to win them over again with his charm as he start dancing to the band playing. The scene's a bit overdone, but Rockwell navigates the melodrama with deft timing, letting us in on the fact that we don't have to like Kenny to realize that he's not a killer. He's the best thing about this movie.

Watching Conviction, I was reminded of a great film -- Tim Robbins' 1994 classic Dead Man Walking with Susan Sarandon and Sean Penn. That film, like this one, is about a convicted killer whose guilt we have to question, whether or not we like him. The difference is that Dead Man Walking hinged on its ambiguity, forcing us to look inward on our own prejudices and beliefs. Conviction just wants us to enjoy a woman on a mission to save her brother. There's nothing wrong with it. It's limited, but it's got its moments.

A God We Can Relate To -- Reflections on "Thor" (2011)

2011-05-08T19:36:00.000-07:00

"To kick ass or not to kick ass? That is the question!"

As a kid, I was obsessed with comic books. Spider-Man, Daredevil, Batman, Hulk, Captain America, The X-Men were my idols. I would pin my favorite covers up on my bedroom walls like posters and was paid my weekly allowance in comic books instead of cash. Somehow, my dad knew I'd turn that five bucks a week into a couple new issues and a Big Gulp. I pretty much read every title I could.

Except Thor.

I had a couple issues in my collection, but it was mostly tie-in issues. Those are the comics that feature characters from other titles, or serve as connective tissue to larger story arcs across titles. So, when Daredevil appeared in an issue of Thor, I bought it. When Marvel began their giant "Secret Wars" storyline, I bought the Thor issues that tied in to the story.

But by himself, I ignored Thor like leftovers.

For me, the problem with Thor has always been an obvious one: how do you make a god relatable? I know that in the original Stan Lee/Jack Kirby comics, Thor took the form of crippled doctor Don Blake, but I always thought that was silly. Why would a god allow himself to spend most of his time as a cripple? I'm sure, had I spent more time reading the series, I would have found something to make the story matter to me, but first impressions count for something.

Still, I wanted to see Kenneth Branagh's film version of Thor because I thought it was a neat idea to take one of our best Shakespearean directors and get him to make a comic book movie. I wasn't disappointed. Not only has Branagh made a great comic book movie, he found a way to make me relate to, and like, the god of thunder.

He made him more like us.

Basics: Thor (Chris Hemsworth) is the heir to the Asgardian throne, currently helmed by his father Odin (Anthony Hopkins). After an attempt by the enemy Frost Giants to retrieve a weapon that could make them a serious threat to Asgard, Thor is motivated to retaliate. Because of his pride, arrogance, and immaturity, Thor leads a group of his friends -- the Warriors Three, Sif, and his brother Loki (Tom Huddleston) -- into battle with the Frost Giants. This decision starts a war between the Frost Giants and Asgard that Odin had been long trying to avoid. As a punishment, Odin banishes his son to Earth to learn humility. On Earth, Thor gets involved with a physicist named Jane (Natalie Portman), and her science team, who are looking for evidence of wormholes. Thor tries to recover his magical hammer and redeem himself, but he must deal with the government agents of S.H.I.E.L.D as well as his scheming brother Loki, who has used Thor's banishment to take control of Asgard's throne.

Thor is Now Marvel's Most Relatable Character: Seriously, can anyone really relate to Tony Stark? A rich man with daddy issues who is a weapon making genius? Spider-Man? A genius geek boy with the handsome looks of Tobey Maguire, a hot girlfriend, and the powers of a spider? At this point, at least until Captain America in July, Thor is Marvel's most relatable hero. What the writers did with this script was to make Thor an impetuous child in need of a good ol' fashioned spanking. Being sent to Earth and stripped of his powers made him endearing and likable. And Hemsworth, who definitely has that "star" charisma (not to mention 'ginie-tingling abs), makes us like him despite the elevated language. In fact, it's Thor's elevated language that makes his time on Earth so fun and interesting. My favorite quote: "This mortal vessel is weak. I need sustenance!"

Was Natalie Portman Acting?: Thor went from being a solid comic book movie to an excellent one during a great exchange between Thor and Jane as she drives him to the S.H.I.E.L.D. station in the desert. At one point, Portman blushes when Hemsworth smiles at her. I swear that was not acting. Portman was turned on by the Nordic god. It revealed the great chemistry between them, which paid off greatly at the end of the film as the story tried to sell us on their love story. A beautiful moment -- and few actresses look as lovely and comely as Natalie Portman when she blushes.

Kenneth Branagh Re-defines Himself: For a long time, poor Kenneth Branagh has gotten the reputation of being stuffy and erudite. Yet, he directed one of my favorite thrillers in 1991's Dead Again, and one of the most lively and least stuffy versions of Hamlet (1996). Here, with Thor, he shows that he can direct excellent action sequences -- the fight between Thor's team and the Frost Giants is absolutely thrilling -- as well as handle the tonal balance between the aristocratic Asgardian scenes and the humorous, tense scenes on Earth. If anything, this is a truly Shakespearean effort on his part, as Shakespeare was also well regarded for how he was able to handle the tone of scenes between the upper and lower classes. All that work on films like Henry V and Midsummer Night's Dream prepared him to make more commercial movies like this. Hopefully the world will look at Mr. Branagh a little differently from here out. He has re-defined himself with Thor as much as Jon Favreau did with Iron Man.

Watching Thor really made my inner geek squeal with delight. Watching him sling the mighty hammer Mjolinir about his head was profound. It made me wish I had given the god of thunder a better shake in my younger years. Not a big deal, though. This movie more than makes up for all the comics I didn't read.

On Being an Icon -- Reflections on John Travolta and "Blow Out" (1981)

2011-05-06T08:43:00.000-07:00

Being an icon is tough.

Being an icon must be one of the hardest parts to play in show business. First of all, it's not a part you can audition for -- it is thrust upon you like "chosen one" status in any Joseph Campbell-inspired story. You become an icon because a role you play taps into some psychological reservoir in the collective unconscious of our culture. James Dean, Marilyn Monroe, Bogart, Steve McQueen, Bette Davis, Jack Nicholson...the list is impressive and full of celebrities we can name on two hands.

Being an icon is hard, but once you have that status, you either need to die or find some way to keep your status without screwing it up. Nicholson has had the best success, sitting courtside at every Lakers championship game. The others all died early enough to be remembered fondly. And for the old icons, like Elizabeth Taylor, they retired shortly after their prime to ensure they would always be remembered for what mattered most.

So, the question then must be asked. What the hell happened to John Travolta?

Travolta got his big career break as Vinnie Barbarino in the TV series Welcome Back, Kotter. He played the goofy tough guy -- the wise guy. His career path was taking him in similar directions as he soon found himself cast as Billy Nolan in Brian DePalma's adaptation of Stephen King's Carrie. From 1976-1981 he played some of cinema's most iconic characters: Tod in The Boy in the Bubble, Danny Zuko in Grease, Bud in Urban Cowboy, and of course Tony Manero in both Saturday Night Fever and Stayin' Alive.

Then his career took a turn for the worse and he started taking on crappy scripts and doing talking baby movies. His career from 1981-1994 is a wasteland, a 40-year walk in the desert in which Travolta was mostly a laughing stock, or worse, forgotten. His icon status was shattered.

But redemption is part of the game, too, as much as the idea of having greatness thrust on you. It wasn't until Quentin Tarantino rescued him for 1994's Pulp Fiction that Travolta reclaimed his lost mojo and re-established himself as an icon. But since then, what has he done? Lame action flicks like Face/Off and From Paris with Love. Wretched comedies like Road Hogs and Old Dogs. Cross-dressing in fat suits, playing washed up gangsters, and starring in one of cinema's worst examples of religious proselytizing: Battlefield Earth. Travolta's gone for icon to washed-up type. I doubt he'll be remembered so much for his greatness in the late 70s/early 80s as much as for the wasted potential.

I can see why James Dean died young, why Orson Welles fled the industry, and why Marlon Brando went into seclusion. There's no way you can live up to the expectations of being an icon. It's easy being a character actor, like Peter Lorre or Steve Buscemi or John C. Reilly. People will always remember when you were perfect in a movie, and never remember your clunkers. Icons, on the other hand, rise and fall with their work -- it's a blessing and a curse. One moment they're worshipped, as all good icons should be; the next they are burned on a pile of celluloid dreams.

At the apex of his status as Hollywood's next great icon, Travolta starred in DePalma's 1981 masterpiece as Jack Terry, a B-movie sound man who records the audio of a car accident that results in the death of the Pennsylvanian state Governor and Presidential hopeful. When we meet Jack Terry, he is a man bored by his job, thoroughly surprised -- and depressed -- by the fact that he's made five shitty exploitation films in two years. He's so bored that he doesn't even have much concern for the issue of a lame scream that needs over-dubbing during a kill scene in his current project Co-Ed Massacre.

It's not until Jack witnesses and records the car accident that he feels that spark of life again. He dives in after the car and manages to rescue Sally (Karen Allen) from the wreckage. She turns out to be a make-up counter attendant who seduces men on the side for a seedy private dick (Dennis Franz) so he can get blackmail photos. Jack falls for Sally, but it seems he likes her more for the thrill she represents than for anything about her personally. It's not until Jack reveals his backstory that we see how layered and fucked up he is. He worked with the cops after a stint as a communications officer in the military. His job was wire tapping for Internal Affairs. A miscalculation on an investigation would up costing an officer his life, and that led Jack to punishing himself by working sound on movies even Roger Corman would be ashamed to put his name on.

Travolta's performance is one of cinema's best. It is a textured performance, as layered as any cliched onion. With each scene, he reveals the depth of Jack's character like a good sound man balances layers of sound in a film. The complexity is electrifying. In the film's final shot, after Jack has been dealt the most awful blow possible, he is devastated by the most horrific sound ever for him -- the recording of Sally's final scream -- as it is used as the over-dub for the missing scream in Co-Ed Massacre. The terror, the guilt, the shame on Travolta's face is heartbreaking and as frightening as any look you're likely to see in a more traditional horror film. DePalma's lens captures each nuance of the expression and lingers until we are left as paralyzed and uncomfortable as Jack himself.

Blow Out is a gem. It's a cleverly crafted thriller that leaves you spellbound and unsettled, which good thrillers should do. This largely hinges on Travolta's performance, and leaves you wondering what the hell happened to him. Since Blow Out, Pulp Fiction is the only great film he has made. Prior to it, he had made at least four great films and was quickly on his way to becoming the greatest icon of his generation. Now he just seems to be wasted potential.

Maybe there's something to dying young after all. If you're an icon.

If you are interested in having the ending of this great film spoiled, here are the last nine minutes:

The Fast and the Foolish -- Reflections on "Fast Five" (2011)

2011-05-05T15:05:00.000-07:00

Is it possible for these two to survive a 200 ft. drop in a river after jumping from this car? It doesn't matter.

This is the first Fast and the Furious movie I've seen. Somehow I've managed to avoid watching these movies since the first one back in 2001 -- don't know how that happened.

Here were some of my random observations:

1) Is it possible to flip a police bus with a stopped car?

2) How does a person jump from rooftop to rooftop from heights in excess of 20 feet and NOT break their legs?

3) Can you fall from 200+ feet and survive if you land in a body of water?

4) How can characters start a movie poor, hungry, and homeless manage to acquire enough funds to finance a heist operation?

5) Is it possible to get the shit beat out of you and have no bruises, cuts, or swelling?

6) Why are modern bad guys always businessmen?

7) Is it just me, or is every cop from a foreign country in the movies corrupt?

8) Does Vin Diesel know how to speak in sentences?

9) Are all women this shallow?

10) Can you smell what the Rock is cooking?

From this list, you'd think that I thought Fast Five, from director Justin Lin, is a piece of crap. And you'd be right. It makes about as much sense as a short story by a 7th grader.

But, as far as pieces of crap go, it's fun, exciting, and extremely likable. Essentially, this movie is a polished turd, with excellent direction, sound editing, and physical effects. If you go into it with the mindset that the whole thing is absurd and impossible, you'll come out of it laughing and happy. That's what movies are meant for anyway, right? A two-hour escape. I don't know if Fast Five will be the best escapism of the Summer -- I highly doubt it -- but it definitely doesn't disappoint.

Basics: Dom Toretto (Vin Diesel), Brian O'Connor (Paul Walker), and Mia Toretto (Jordana Brewster) are America's Most Wanted after they orchestrate Dom's escape from prison. They head off for Rio de Janiero where they get entangled with a drug lord named Reyes (Joaquim de Almeida), who wants them dead, too. In order to gain freedom, the trio assemble a group of friends and orchestrate a heist of Reyes' fortune. Meanwhile, the trio is being actively pursued by super federal agent Hobbs (The Rock), whose "Old Testament" methods cause loads of trouble for our renegade, Robin Hood heroes.

Where's the Car Racing? If there was any complaint I could have about Fast Five, it's the dearth of car races. The film series, from my understanding, started in the street racing underworld. Fast Five dips into this underworld, which is apparently thriving in Rio, but every opportunity the movie has to show actual racing it balks. Except for one scene, in which most of our male heroes race down an empty city street in stolen police cars. I understand the producers of the series wanted to get away from the predictability of the racing scenes in the first four films, but I didn't think they'd change identities completely.

I Get It -- We're in Rio: Like most movies, Fast Five feels the need to establish its setting by showing the standard landmarks. When movies are in Australia, we get the Opera House. When we're in Russia, we get the Kremlin. In Paris, we see the Eiffel Tower. And in Rio, we have to see the Christ the Redeemer statue. I understand the director wanted to quickly establish Rio, but they show this statue no less than three times during the movie, while characters are constantly talking about Rio. After a while I began to think every mention of Rio, visually or otherwise, would make for a good drinking game.

It's a Tone Thing: After the movie, I was wondering why I liked Fast Five so much, but hated movies like Twilight and Transformers 2 so much. All three are popcorn movies that require you to shut your mind off to enjoy. To say I liked Fast Five almost makes me look like a hypocrite, especially since there are some plot holes in this film big enough to drive a 20-ton bank vault through (which they do, literally). My reflection led me to realize that the reason I enjoyed this film versus the others is due to its tone. Twilight and Transformers seem like pretentious popcorn entertainments. It's almost as if the directors are trying to make it seem like they are saying something important or poignant. Transformers wants you to not only buy in to the concept of fighting robots, but see them as important, wise, and thematically rich. Twilight is much the same, as Bella's struggles are treated with the same heaviness of a Jane Austen novel. Fast Five is not pretentious. It doesn't pretend to be smart. It knows its a silly escape, but never winks at us about it either. It plays the story seriously, but has tons of fun. As a result, we can't get annoyed when Vin Diesel and Paul Walker have a monosyllabic heart-to-heart conversation about their daddies. The conversation isn't used to develop character so much as to remind us that these are characters until the next action sequence when we'll need to be worried about their survival or freedom.

If you're looking for fun in the movie theater, Fast Five is easily on the short list of movies worth shelling out 12 dollars for. It may even be worth a Slushie and Milk Duds, too.

It's Not Sci-Fi, It's Science Fiction -- Reflections on "Moon" (2009)

2011-05-01T18:33:00.000-07:00

You mean this movie might make me think about more than aliens? Damn!

I'll be honest. Moon is not for everyone. It's a thinking man's science fiction film. Notice I didn't say Sci-Fi film. Sci-Fi seems to imply aliens, laser weapons, and preposterous high concepts that have very little in common with science and more in common with fantasy. I don't mean to imply that this is a bad thing, although after seeing Species, you might have a change of heart.

Moon has more in common with Stanley Kubrick's masterpiece 2001: A Space Odyssey than it does with our more modern "man in space" stories, like Pitch Black and Mission to Mars. It's not a masterpiece, but it is pretty terrific. This is the debut film from director Duncan Jones, whose father, rock-icon David Bowie, knew a little bit about space himself.

Basics: Sam Bell (Sam Rockwell) works in a space station on the moon in charge of mining a element that has solved Earth's energy crisis. His three-year contract is about to end, meaning he'll finally get to go home and be with his beautiful wife and daughter again. A few days before freedom, though, Sam has an accident in one of the space vehicles, and when he comes to he discovers he isn't who he thought he was.

Solid Like a Rockwell: Sam Rockwell is pretty much the star of the show, and he has to pull off a mighty acting task by playing different versions of his character. He manages to make each version of himself markedly different and unique, as if each really is a different character. Sure, the make-up department helped a bit with this, but Rockwell's performance is riveting and never lets us take our eyes off of him when he's on screen.

Cabin Fever: Duncan Jones makes excellent use of space all throughout this film, not just in the exterior shots of the space station where we are constantly made aware of the vast infinity surrounding Sam. The way he uses the spaces inside the station are equally inventive, and create a real sense of claustrophobia. By the end of film, I was feeling as stir crazy as Sam was, and that's the way it should be. Moon is an intimate science fiction film about the effects of technology and progress on the little people -- the cogs in the machine -- and Jones' use of space really makes it work.

HAL's Younger Brother: In Kubrick's 2001, the most memorable character was the HAL-9000, which began to malfunction and attempt to murder his human operators. In Moon, we are presented with HAL's newest incarnation, GERTY (voiced by Kevin Spacey). I must admit, at first I was annoyed with how much Spacey's voice seemed to be imitating HAL, but as the movie progressed I thought it was awesome. Even better, though, was that GERTY had something HAL never did -- a computer monitor on its body to show an emoticon. During conversations, the face on the screen changed to show the emotions of the machine. This touch really made the scenes with GERTY remarkably tense and gripping.

Moon is worth seeing. The only knock against it might be the pacing. It is a slow moving film, and since there is only one actor and a computer voice, it can often feel glacial. But, it is worth it. Moon is a remarkable work of science-fiction. Just make sure that you don't file it next to Men in Black -- that would be insulting.

Somewhere Out There I'm Happy -- Reflections on "Rabbit Hole" (2010)

2011-05-01T18:02:00.000-07:00

Yeah, it's that kind of film. Keep Kleenex on hand. You'll need it.

Last year, I lost my children.

They didn't die, if that's what you are thinking. No car accidents, diseases or burning houses. But, I still lost them the moment I decided to allow my ex-wife to move them out of California to Arizona. It was a hard decision that I made after many sleepless nights, pros-and-con lists, and advice from everyone I knew. This isn't the time or place to go over my reasons, but it is important to note that I have lost them. Maybe not physically, but emotionally. I've been grieving ever since they left 9 months ago.

Watching Rabbit Hole was difficult because even though I do not know what it is to deal with the death of one of my children, I do understand the process of grief. I understand it everyday when I don't hear their voices, or when I make food they can't enjoy. I feel it in the moments when I laugh and can't share it, or simply miss staring at them as they go about their kid business. I don't think the heart is capable of categorizing grief. When it hurts, it hurts. And I hurt all the time.

So do the characters in Rabbit Hole, a film based on the stage play by David Lindsay-Abaire. They hurt and hurt and try to escape into the different holes they can find, only to realize that each hole is only a moment's relief from the pain that weighs them down. It is a excellent film, brutal and honest. I don't think it says anything that hasn't already been said before in other films (like In the Bedroom, The Sweet Hereafter, and Ordinary People), but the performances are remarkable and it packs an emotional wallop.

Basics: Becca (Nicole Kidman) and Howie (Aaron Eckhart) are struggling in the aftermath of the death of their 4-year old son, Danny eight months earlier. Becca is cold and shut off, resisting everyone's comfort, and trying to rid herself of Danny's memory even though it haunts her. Howie, on the other hand, dives into healing by joining a support group for grieving parents. Becca's world is shaken, though, by two events. Her free-spirited sister, Izzy (Tammy Blanchard), announces she is pregnant, and Becca runs into Jason (Miles Teller), the teenager who hit her son with his car. From there, this is a heart wrenching story about people trying to make sense of the world. There are no easy answers, and coming to terms with such an earth-shattering loss is quite messy.

I Like a Little Sci-Fi Mixed With My Therapy Drama: The central image of the film is the abstract concept of parallel universes criss-crossing each other. It's a challenging idea, and could have easily made the movie seem absurd, but the screenplay lets the characters be who they are and talk as they like. This leads to the film's defining moment in a park, in which Becca considers the notion of parallel universes in which there are other Becca's living lives similar to, but different, from hers. "I like the idea that somewhere out there I'm happy."

Thankless Roles: It seems that in movies involving the death of children, fathers always wind up in one of two groups -- 1) the avenging parent and 2) the escapist parent. Aaron Eckhart gets the opportunity to do both in this movie, albeit in more subtle ways than some other films. Nonetheless, Eckhart takes a thankless role and makes it his own. At every turn when he seems like he's about to become the cliche, he throws a wrinkle in there that makes Howie seem more real and less of a movie character. Nicole Kidman got the glory role here -- and knocked it out of the park -- but Eckhart goes toe-to-toe with her and delivers his finest performance since Thank You For Smoking.

Endings Suck: Movies about grief are so much different than movies about giant robots, superheroes and ghosts. It's really hard to end them. You can't just make everyone feel better about their kid dying. The moment the mother and father act like they're happy, the movie runs the risk of being seen as insincere. Yet, you can't just end a movie with more grief either. Too much pain and misery is hard to take in a story. Fortunately, Rabbit Hole sticks the ending nicely. It finds a nice balance and leaves you feeling closure without feeling like everybody's happy now.

Regardless of the quality of the movie, most people will be either drawn to or repelled by Rabbit Hole because of its content. Our children are precious, and it's hard to watch people suffer the loss of a child. So, if you're looking for a hardcore drama about pain, misery, and anguish, Rabbit Hole is a good way to indulge.

Should Have Been Called "Dead on Arrival" -- Reflections on "Dylan Dog: Dead of Night" (2011)

2011-05-01T00:40:00.000-07:00

Oddly enough, it's the dead guy who has the most personality here.

Sometimes I like to imagine I'm a Hollywood executive -- which, after seeing most of the shit produced these days, I'm beginning to think is a fairly easy job -- being pitched an idea by a writer. But instead of being in awe of the pitch, I'm the bad guy executive who longs to rip the idea to shreds. After all, it's always more fun being the bad guy.

Here's what I imagine the pitch meeting would have gone like had I been in the office that day.

Producer (Me): [waving my hands like I'm helping someone back up a U-Haul] All right, all right, let's see here. Show me something special.

Writer: [confident] Do you read comic books?

Me: [grinning] Superhero shit. Yeah, sure. Course I do. I've seen all the movies.

Writer: Are you familiar with Dylan Dog?

Me: [confused] Is it a comic strip?

Writer: No, Dylan Dog! Dylan Dog. Dylan Dog? It's this incredible comic book series from Italy.

Me: Italians make comic books?

Writer: Yeah, and I thought the only art they did was on ceilings.

Me: Is it well-known here in the U.S. What am I talking about? Of course it isn't, otherwise I'd have heard of it. It's not like knowing about pop culture is my job or anything.

Writer: It sells a million copies a month in Italy.

Me: So, why don't you pitch this to Italian producers. I'm sure they'd be on this idea like flies on shit.

Writer: [getting nervous] Just listen to the idea before you pass judgement, all right. I know you'll fall in love with it.

Me: Okay, sure, kid. Shoot.

Writer: Here goes -- in the comic Dylan Dog is this private investigator who takes cases involving people's nightmares. He deals with all sorts of monsters and assorted weirdness.

Me: [rubbing hands together] Ohhhh, so there's sequel potential here?

Writer: Absolutely! [Gaining confidence again] Now, in the comic, Dylan's a romantic hero. He loves poetry, plays the clarinet, broods a lot, wears the same outfit all the time, and seems to fall in love with a new woman in every issue. He lives in London and used to work for Scotland Yard. He has a partner named Groucho --

Me: [interested] Like Groucho Marx?

Writer: Yep. He's a Marx impersonator who becomes friends with Dylan and becomes his sidekick. He's funny, always cracking jokes and puns, and is very helpful during fights because he always shows up in the nick of time with a gun, or something useful.

Me: [intrigued] You think our people on this side of the Atlantic will be interested in this sort of character.

Writer: [excited] I thought you might ask that! And, of course, the answer's "no!" Most Americans have little interest in any comic character that doesn't fit into the superhero mold. Dylan Dog's way too interesting and unique to make a movie based upon such a trippy comic book. Leave all that shit to the Italians, right?

Me: [uncertain] You seem to have me confused with a different executive. That's not why I asked the question.

Writer: [working up a sweat] I came up with an incredible treatment of the comic book that'll just shoot you to the moon! Okay! Instead of having Dylan as this romantic, brooding type, instead he'll be more like a tortured Sam Spade -- you know, a hard boiled detective in the Dashiell Hammett tradition. Sure, we'll keep a couple of his quirks from the comic to please the "fans," but he'll be much more American. In fact, there will be a voice over in which Dylan tells us everything we already understand in cliches, so that way the audience will know we're playing around with a genre.

Me: So, you plan on removing Dylan's personality.

Writer: Of course. It's not like he needs one. You see, in this treatment, he's a paranormal detective who has left the game because of the death of his girlfriend. But when a werewolf murders a smuggler and steals this unique artifact, he gets dragged back into the life of investigating monsters.

Me: What about his partner?

Writer: Groucho? Well, no one over here will get that reference -- especially the teenagers we'll be marketing to -- so we'll make him a zombie instead.

Me: A zombie?

Writer: Yep! Zombies are testing so well right now with the 18-49 demo. You saw The Walking Dead, right?

Me: It was good. Much more creative than this.

Writer: I know! In addition to zombies, we'll also have vampires. And we have some really cool twists for them.

Me: Like what?

Writer: Well, for one thing they will be selling their own blood to everyday folk at vampire clubs as an underground drug. And they'll hang out in a gang called the True Bloods.

Me: Isn't that a little bit obvious?

Writer: What do you mean?

Me: You're going to call them "True Bloods" and have them sell "V?"

Writer: No, they're going to sell vampire blood.

Me: Yeah, "V."

Writer: What's that?

Me: Nevermind.

Writer: Okay. So, Dylan's going to have to go through the vampire, werewolf, and zombie communities to try to get this artifact back before someone uses it to destroy the entire undead world. Along the way, there'll be laughs, jokes and lots of humor about monsters.

Me: Like what?

Writer: There will be jokes about how dumb and angry werewolves are, how snake-like and power hungry vampires are, and how cowardly and gross zombies are.

Me: Those sound like stereotypes. Will you be doing anything original with these characters?

Writer: Oh, yeah! Our black vampire has a gold tooth and speaks like a brotha! And the zombies have a support group.

Me: Are you kidding me?

Writer: It is supposed to be funny.

Me: So, let me get this straight. Dylan Dog is a movie about a dull, personality-less private detective who specializes in monsters. After a man is murdered and an artifact is stolen, Dylan is hired to get it back and has to try to locate it amongst a bunch of vampires, werewolves and zombies who all have reasons for having it. This leads to a series of scenes involving the monsters in which they don't do anything new or interesting. They're really just cheap copies of other, better television shows. Did I get this right?

Writer: Yep. What do you think?

Me: [shaking head] Is there at least some sex?

Writer: Of course, but you don't see anything.

Me: Damn!

It's a Horror Film -- Reflections on "Inside Job" (2010)

2011-04-27T15:48:00.000-07:00

Freddy Krueger, Michael Myers and Jason Vorhees need to take notes from these guys.

Imagine if I came to you and asked to borrow some money. For what? It doesn't matter. And, let's just say you found out that I probably wouldn't be able to pay you. Would you still lend me the money?

Of course not, you say. That would be stupid. You never lend money to those who can't pay.

But, for sake of argument, let's say you found another person who is willing to pay you back on my behalf (with interest), meaning that I would have to pay them back. Would you lend me the money then?

If it means getting back your investment, and pocketing extra, then my question almost seems rhetorical, right?

In this scenario, I imagine questions of right and wrong probably didn't occur to you. Is it right to give a loan that can't be paid? Even though you sold the loan to someone else, it doesn't make me any more or less capable of paying. I'm still not going to be able to come through on my end of the bargain, and someone is going to take the financial loss.

Should it matter to you, though? After all, you still got paid.

This is the central conundrum of Charles Ferguson's horrific, Oscar-winning documentary "Inside Job." He posits that since the 1980s, our economy has been in dire straits as our financial institutions have become de-regulated, thus allowing for such unethical business practices. His film is a scathing, rousing, and brilliant expose of an industry that has destroyed not just our economy over the last several years, but the world's economy. With millions out of work, out on the streets, and in obscene amounts of debt, this film couldn't come at a better time to garner attention for a cause that's not just worth fighting, but essential to fight.

Basics: Ferguson, with the help of Matt Damon's everyman narration, explores the causes, ramifications and criminality of our current financial crisis. We learn about how de-regulation (removing government controls and sanctions) of the business practices in the financial sector contributed to the wild and crazy rise in stocks and the housing market in the early 2000s. As everyone on Wall Street wallowed in their riches, everyday people were being given sub-prime loans they could not afford. Lenders and investors in turn sold the loans to other lenders and investors, then took out insurance policies to protect their risk-taking behavior. Eventually the bottom fell out and the world as we knew it came to an end. Financial companies, like Lehman Brothers, and AIG, claimed bankruptcy, forcing the federal government to bail them out. Meanwhile, even as the rest of the world grew poorer and devastated, the rich got richer and discovered that despite all the government's bluster about their practices, no one would be punished or held accountable. It's like Freddy or Jason murdering a slew of dumb teens and getting a slap on the hand before being allowed to make another sequel.

It's a Horror Film, Pt. 1: One of the film's biggest and best points is that the CEOs and Presidents of these financial institutions not only found themselves going unpunished for defrauding American citizens, but were rewarded with government positions. With the financial industry spending billions each year in lining the pockets of politicians (or what we commonly call "lobbying"), the conflict of interest is great and spellbinding. We have, in essence, put the inmates in charge of the asylum. And after campaigning to increase regulations in the financial sector, President Obama has not only done nothing, but has continued this grand tradition of trusting the very people who are responsible for our situation. Would you trust the mechanic who built your shitty car to fix it? He built it, though, you say. Yeah, but that doesn't excuse the fact that it's shitty.

It's a Horror Film, Pt. 2: I was amazed at the interviews Ferguson got with a variety of college deans, economics professors and Presidential advisors. And while I'm aware that he was able to use whichever footage he wanted to make his point, it didn't change the fact that I'm pretty sure that most of these talking heads, who are defending the current system, believe their own bullshit. And why shouldn't they? They're all profiting. Meanwhile, the class system in this country becomes more obviously rich/poor and the poor are still fucked.

It's a Horror Film, Pt. 3: What frightened me most about this film, though, was the section about the impact these Wall Street goons have had on higher education. When bigwigs at Harvard, Columbia, Brown, and Berkeley are all coming from Goldman Sachs, Lehman, and JP Morgan it becomes increasingly obvious which economic model they will be promoting to their students, many of whom they may eventually employ. And with public universities becoming increasingly more difficult for kids to attend without having to go into severe debt, we have a problem on our hands that may extend for a few generations. Education is the most important thing to exact change in this world, and when the educators are the ones creating the problems, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to understand they will be producing the next generation of problem-creators, not problem-solvers.

Inside Job is an effective, intense, and enlightening documentary. It tries to end on a positive note, but the evidence is so overwhelming that it is hard to see a future that isn't bleak. And when you consider that most average Americans don't spend lots of time watching documentaries (unless you count Jersey Show and Keeping Up with the Kardashians as documentaries), it makes me even more nervous. Nonetheless, this is the sort of movie that educates and inspires as it scares. If only most slasher films were this disturbing.

Is It Exploitative? -- Reflections on "A Serbian Film" (2010)

2011-04-19T19:06:00.000-07:00

FADE IN:

A YOUNG, SEXY GIRL is getting dressed in her room. She is wearing nothing but her pink lace bra and matching panties. Sitting in front of her vanity mirror, she brushes her long blonde hair. As she brushes, she notices her breasts and adjusts herself, smiling with satisfaction at her ample cleavage.

Suddenly, she hears a LOUD, ABRUPT CREAKING NOISE, like the sound of a floorboard groaning under the weight of an intruder. She jumps from her seat, breasts bouncing, and slowly moves to her closed bedroom door. Mindfully, she places her hand on the doorknob and lowers her head to the door to listen to the other side. She hears a SCUTTLING SOUND. It gets louder as it gets to her door. Then it stops.

Before she can react, BOOM! The door is shoved open and the girl falls on to the floor. Her bra strap falls off her shoulder and her breast pops out. She doesn't have time to correct it as...

What you've just read is an excerpt of what could happen in pretty much any slasher flick to hit the box office over the last 20-30 years. It's fairly standard, isn't it? There's a vulnerable girl. She's well-endowed, and her breasts are heavy and on display as she cavorts in her undies. And she is under assault.

I'm sure as you read, you may have imagined a specific actress in this role. Maybe one you want to see naked. And for some of you, this may have excited you a little. It was designed to. The script exploits a masculine desire to watch nubile girls in danger. It could have exploited a lot worse, though. Like the girl could have been a nun, removing her habit, or she could have been pleasuring herself before the loud noise. Or, even better, she could have been enjoying an intimate moment with a girlfriend prior to the intruder's introduction.

I doubt anyone would disagree that what you've read here is an example of "exploitation."

I've often heard critics throw around the term "exploitation" when talking about movies. Usually they are referring to films with excessive amounts of sex and violence. The label seems to make a movie sound no better than your standard, run-of-the-mill porno. And sometimes the movies given this label really are no better than their XXX siblings (if anything, they're worse due to the fact that porn seldom pretends to be something it isn't).

Just because a film has extreme use of sex and violence does not necessarily make it exploitative, though. As with most things in life, it is the intent of the movie more than the content that makes it exploitative or not. To be truly exploitative, a movie must use its extreme content almost as a fetish, with an aim to arouse us, or excite us.

A movie like Machete is certainly exploitative. The movie relishes in its degradation. When Machete uses a man's intestines as a rope, we cheer. When he has a threesome with his enemy's wife and daughter in their swimming pool, we're titillated -- and oddly turned on by it. Even current movies, like Scream 4 are exploitative. Just like in the introduction to this article, Scream 4 uses violence towards helpless women to excite us and make us laugh. Every woman is beautiful, shown in lighting that accentuates their every curve. And even though the movie has zero nudity, it poses and shoots its women as if they were models in the latest issue of Maxim or FHM.

I bring this topic up because I just watched a controversial movie that has already been tagged with the "exploitation film" label. It is called A Serbian Film. The movie, which is the directorial debut of Serbian filmmaker Srđan Spasojević, has garnered lots of controversy since its premiere at the SXSW film festival in March of 2010. It is under investigation in the director's homeland for possibly being in violation of laws involving the protection of minors. Because of its extreme graphic sexual and violent content, the film has been denied permission to play at various film festivals worldwide. Critics have had mixed reactions. Some, like Mark Kermode of the BBC, called it a "nasty piece of exploitation trash." Meanwhile, Harry Knowles, of Ain't It Cool News, named A Serbian Film one of the ten best films of 2010.

One thing, regardless of the critical evaluation, is true: A Serbian Film is a difficult film to watch and not for everyone. It is violent, depraved and pushes every button imaginable to get across its message. And most people who've seen it don't have much desire to see it again.

Having seen it, I believe it is a remarkably powerful and effective film. It is not exploitative, although its imagery is so disturbing at times that it's difficult not to see it as such. A Serbian Film will leave an indelible imprint on anyone who sees it, and once you get past the shocking elements, you'll find a movie filled with strong ideas about the roles of government and its citizens.

Basics: Milos (Srđan Todorović) is a semi-retired porn star, well-known for his ability to achieve an erection without any external stimulation. He has an amazing, beautiful wife and a precocious young son. He is called out of retirement by a former co-star who makes an offer he can't refuse -- a wealthy, avant-garde director wants Milos to star in an "art" film and is willing to give him enough money that he'd never have to work again. Milos eventually realizes he is making a snuff film, but by the time he figures this out and tries to leave, he's in too deep and the director drugs and exploits him in the most horrific ways imaginable.

What's So Bad About It?: A Serbian Film very graphically depicts scenes of necrophilia, pedophilia, rape, and sadomasochism. I don't want to spoil any of its most intense moments, but it goes places where we thought the lines were drawn in Sharpie ink and crosses them with remarkable confidence. I will admit that during one scene in particular I was in tears for what I was seeing, and I still find it hard to get the image out of my head. For some, this is no doubt awful and wrong; I don't want to debate the morality of the film. All I can say is that I've seen a lot of films with disturbing imagery and few of them are as well-made as this one to illicit these sorts of reactions from me.

Allegory or Not?: When a film is this professionally done and this remarkably sick and twisted, it is either a piece of exploitation, or it has a deeper meaning. The filmmakers have been very open about sharing that this film is a reaction to the recent history of the Serbian people, making this film an allegory. Watching it from this perspective, it becomes pretty clear what's going on. For those that don't know much about their Serbian history, what you need to know most is that throughout the 90s, a dictator named Milosevic controlled the region and authorized genocide, having Serbs killing Serbs. In this movie, the snuff film's director, Vukmir, is very much the madman that Milosevic was. And as the film progresses it becomes quite clear that Milos, the protagonist, is the stand-in for the Serbian people, being manipulated and controlled like a puppet. As Milos does the unthinkable, the actor's expression shares the mixed emotions of pleasure and anguish that no doubt characterized those forced to do the dictator's bidding. Is the allegory valuable? Does it, like Animal Farm or Narnia, cause us to re-evaluate the world we live in? That's up to the viewer, but as far as I'm concerned the film successfully marries a shocking concept with a real world horror we should not soon forget.

Hitchcock Rules: One of Alfred Hitchcock's greatest contributions to film was implied violence. In Psycho's legendary shower scene, we never actually see Janet Leigh getting stabbed. Everything is implied in the editing. Yet, when you watch the moment, you swear you're seeing Leigh getting massacred. A Serbian Film works on a similar principle. For as violent as it seems, you never completely see what you think you're seeing. The editing in this film is brilliant. Each scene is meticulously framed, and it's the ideas of what we're seeing that effects us so strongly. I'm not putting this film on par with Psycho, of course, but the filmmakers certainly took their cues from Hitch.

"Exploitation" is an easy label to throw at a film, especially if you don't particularly like what you are seeing. But good movies don't have to be likable; they need to challenge us and make us see the world differently, even if it means seeing the ugliest of ugly.

No Screams Here -- Reflections on "Scream 4" (2011)

2011-04-16T12:47:00.000-07:00

He should ask her what her least favorite scary movie is.

Lately, I've been hearing the term "meta" being thrown around a lot. NBC's great television show Community has been dubbed as "meta." The Simpsons have long been described this way, too. In movies, we've been constantly bombarded with "meta" parody films for years -- Scary Movie and its derivative ilk.

The term "meta" refers to any type of fiction that makes direct references to itself, making the audience recognize that it is indeed witnessing a story. In the theater, they call this "breaking the fourth wall." It's a risky proposition. Making the audience aware they are enjoying a fiction can often be a puzzling and rewarding experience, like in 2000's masterpiece, Adaptation. It can also be mess, too, like Scream 4.

Scream 4 (or Scre4m, as the text messaging-obsessed marketers are calling it in a direct grab for the teenage dollar) tries so hard to make you aware that it is smart, savvy, and clever that all it winds up doing is making you realize how dumb it actually is. It is an exercise of style over substance, and while not exactly the worst in the Scream franchise, it's a weak effort from both Wes Craven and Kevin Williamson.

Basics: 10 years after the events of the first film, Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell) returns to Woodsboro on the last leg of her self-help book tour. As soon as she shows her pretty face, a bunch of suspecting teenagers start getting brutally stabbed and slashed to death. Sheriff Dewey (David Arquette) and his wife, unhappily retired Gale Weathers (Courteney Cox), do the investigative thing. What they don't realize is this new Ghostface Killer is not only armed with a knife, but with a mission to outdo previous incarnations by filming the murders.

Williamson Never Meta In-Joke He Didn't Like: This film's biggest problem is its tone. While the original Scream used the humor of its self-aware characters to create suspense and horror, this sequel can't seem to find the same balance. Every character here is self-aware -- even the lame deputies -- and the efforts made in Williamson's script to constantly remind us they all know they're in a horror film ruins all the scary moments. As a result all we're left with is shock-and-awe moments. And dialogue like "Don't fuck with the original," may have sounded great when it was on the computer screen, but the moment it's uttered it sounds forced and hollow. I read in the latest issue of Entertainment Weekly that the script was even completed when Wes Craven started filming, and it shows.

I Love Russian Dolls. Don't You?: The opening sequence, despite the rest of the film, is excellent. It plays like a series of Russian dolls, revealing layers upon layers of action and suspense. It's the only point in the movie that feels like it has a purpose.

Nitpicks and Observations:

I don't know whose idea it was to give Hayden Panetierre a short, butch haircut, but that person should be fired.

It was weird watching David Arquette and Courteney Cox play a married couple having problems in their marriage while they were having problems in their marriage. It was an extra layer of meta-fiction.

Alison Bree is sexy even when she plays a bitch.

By the time the killer is revealed, it's pretty anti-climatic, and an exercise in plausibility. You have to really turn off your mind to think its cool or interesting.

There's talk that Williamson has plotted out a 5th and 6th films for this franchise. Not to break the fourth wall or anything, but I don't think I'll be buying tickets to either of those.

Where's the Passion? -- Reflections on "Jack Goes Boating" (2010)

2011-04-13T16:35:00.000-07:00

This shot sums up how cold and distant we feel while watching the movie.

I imagine most of us can remember falling in love for the first time. We can remember the swooning sensations, the giddy stomach butterflies, and the warm feelings we had whenever we saw or even thought about the love of our lives. Love burned in our hearts, our minds, and our groins. It was all around us. I remember once, when I was hiking with my oldest son, he kept finding rocks he swore were shaped like hearts. They weren't, but that's how love works -- it makes you see romance in a rock.

Jack Goes Boating, the directorial debut from the incredible actor Phillip Seymour Hoffman, tries to find romance in a rock, and doesn't quite see it. It's a film that works so hard to not give into sentiment that it winds up distancing itself from the audience instead of connecting. A good romance needs sentiment to work, but it's a balancing act. If done right you can get Casablanca, An Affair to Remember or The Notebook. If done wrong, you can get pretty much any movie Kate Hudson has ever made (with the exception of Almost Famous).

Basics: Jack (Hoffman) is a limo driver who lives a very lonely life. He only seems to have one friend, Clyde (John Ortiz), and is constantly connected to his ancient Walkman, which he uses to listen to classic reggae songs in order to receive "good vibes." Clyde and his wife, Lucy (Daphne Rubin-Vega) try setting Jack up with another lonely type named Connie (Amy Ryan) and Jack falls in love. Unfortunately, the big galoot wants to do things with her and for her that are out of his comfort zone -- boating, cooking -- so he begins to work towards self-improvement. Other stuff happens, but it's not particularly exciting.

Who's to Blame?: I'm not sure if the movie's problems lie in the direction or the script. It's certainly not with the actors, all of whom give solid performance, especially Amy Ryan as Connie, Jack's love interest and John Ortiz as Clyde, Jack's best -- and only -- friend. My gut feeling is that the blame rests squarely on the shoulders of the screenwriter, Robert Glaudini, who adapted his own stage play for the screen. Glaudini's screenplay never really gives us a reason why Jack is so shy and lonely, so he never really creates any stakes in the relationship Jack is building with Connie. It feels too natural, too normal to make for good drama. I'm not suggesting that the relationship has to be epic, but the beginnings of a romantic relationship always feel more dramatic than they actually are. It's too bad these characters don't tap into that.

Drug Use Is Not As Cool As It Once Was on the Big Screen: One of the running motifs of this film is recreational drug use. Jack is a fan of reggae, which usually inspires fans to light up a joint. Clyde has no problems with this. Later on, the characters engage in smoking hashish from a hookah and snorting lines of cocaine. I'm not a prude, but the casual way in which drugs are used here feels all for naught. It's like Hoffman needed the characters doing something just to be doing something. The drugs play little part -- dramatically or symbolically -- in this film.

Where's the Passion?: I can't remember the last time I saw a movie lacking such passion. Even the sex scene between Jack and Connie feels staged and negotiated. Maybe Hoffman's trying to make a point about hooking up in the modern era, but it doesn't feel right. I want a movie to make me feel, not think. Hell, I was watching the sex scene, listening to Connie ask Jack if he was okay with being violent and forceful without hurting her, and wondering if Jack was even erect.

I recognize that I'm being pretty critical of the film, and the irony here is that I didn't dislike it. There were plenty of positives -- some excellent shots, a few well-written scenes, and a sweet ending -- but they all feel like parts that don't quite make the whole. It's kind of like finding a partner who has a lot of things going for her, but in the end you just can't see yourself falling in love with her.

Like Serving Hard Time -- Reflections on "Stone" (2010)

2011-04-12T22:58:00.000-07:00

If you're a card carrying member of the AARP, she'll show you her tits.

Working in the prison system must be tough. There you are, surrounded by thieves, murderers, abusers, and an assortment of other criminals. Everyone’s got an angle, it seems, in an attempt to work the system. I imagine it must be hard to trust anyone in that environment.

Stone attempts to imagine this world and show the consequences of trust. Unfortunately, the movie plays as a rich man’s attempt at soap opera. A decent concept and strong performances are unable to save a plot that seems lifted from superior thrillers and an execution that crosses over into the land of Boring.

Basics: Jack Mabry (Robert DeNiro) is a prison social worker who reviews case files and interviews prisoners before determining if they are acceptable candidates for parole. One of his last cases before retirement is that of Gerald “Stone” Creeson (Edward Norton), a misanthropic inmate in the pen for arson and 2^nd degree murder. Stone is manipulative and conniving, and uses his psychotic wife, Lucetta (Milla Jovovich), to seduce Jack into authorizing parole. Jack’s seduction leads to bad choices, rough consequences, and reminders of wasp stings (I still don’t get the use of this image throughout the film).

Milla Jovovich Needs To Keep Her Shirt On: Prior to Stone, I was only aware of Jovovich as “that chick from Resident Evil and those cosmetic commercials.” She’s obviously very beautiful, but when she plays crazy, she has a tendency to take her clothes off. I don’t know about other people, but crazy naked people are not a turn-on, and in this film it makes her seduction of Jack seem awfully unrealistic.

Spring-Winter Romances Ended With Harold and Maude: Speaking of unrealistic, there’s not a moment in this movie that I buy the blossoming romance between Jack and Lucetta. First off, she’s psycho, and Jack doesn’t seem like the kind of guy easily seduced by psycho. Secondly, it looks icky watching an aging, sagging DeNiro grind with the young, nubile Jovovich (try getting that image out of your head any time soon). In addition, it seems so stupid that a soon-to-be-retired prison worker would be so quick to hop into bed with the wife of one of his cases, even if she can kick infected zombie ass.

DeNiro and Michael Jordan: I think Robert DeNiro has career Alzheimer’s Disease. Seriously. Since the early 2000s, his choices in projects leaves a lot to be desired. 15 Minutes, The Score, Godsend, Meet the Fockers, Righteous Kill. About the only good film he’s made has been Machete, but that seems more like a moment of clarity in an Alzheimer’s patient. Stone does not re-cement his reputation as one of the finest actors working. He has become a washed-up has-been. In a way, though, it only makes me appreciate his early work so much more. Early DeNiro (Taxi Driver, Godfather II, Raging Bull) was like early Michael Jordan – fiery, electric, with an “I’ve never seen anything like this before” vibe. Middle DeNiro (Midnight Run, Goodfellas, Cape Fear) was like Jordan after he returned from his baseball sabbatical – he knew how to pick his spots and still showed us how awesome he was. But late DeNiro (see above) is like the Jordan that played for the Washington Wizards – old, slow, and irrelevant, but living on legacy alone. Sad, but true.

I do not recommend Stone, unless you’re looking for A) something to irritate your bowels, or B) you really want to see MIlla Jovovich’s munchkin boobs. Otherwise, it’s pretty much like two hours spent serving self-imposed hard time.

Foo for Thought -- Reflections on "Foo Fighters: Back and Forth" (2011)

2011-04-05T22:47:00.000-07:00

I've been racking my brain for the last hour or so -- something very hard to do, believe me -- trying to figure out what the last great rock album was. The music scene over the last few years has been dominated by dance/pop, hip-hop/rap, and indie rock music. Bands like Arcade Fire, The Black Keys, Radiohead and Muse have all released excellent records, but it's hard to call any of them rock albums. We've seen albums from Bruce Springsteen and Tom Petty that have been good, but not great.

Almost quietly, it seems, the Foo Fighters have recorded one of the best rock albums in the last several years with their new album Wasting Light. The album, which will be released nationwide on April 12th, is straightforward rock, which is pretty risky in today's novelty-driven music scene (re: Rebecca Black). Songs like "Rope," "White Limo," and "I Should Have Known" are powerful, heavy riff-and-roll, and showcase the Foo Fighters assets as a band.

To promote the album, the Foos filmed a documentary feature about their years as a band. The documentary, Back and Forth, was screened tonight at theaters nationwide, followed by a live performance by the band of the new material.

Basics: The Foo Fighters, birthed out of leader Dave Grohl's grief over the death of Kurt Cobain, have released seven albums and been through a long, strange, rewarding journey. The documentary follows their progress as a band by using each album as a milestone. We learn of band members who either left the band or were dismissed, hear about drug and alcohol problems, creative conflicts, and get to see footage of the Foos recording Wasting Light Grohl's garage last year.

Familiar, but Fun: the documentary is a pretty standard rock doc. It follows the rise of the band, its struggles to survive, and its current triumphs. Yet, for all the familiarity, the Foos come across as a fun, charismatic, functional group of musicians and friends. Grohl, in particular, has a great sense of humor, which is evidenced in well-placed interviews. He's also more than willing to allow us to see the darker side of his personality, like when he pushed out the band's original drummer by moving the recording of the group's second album The Colour and the Shape from Seattle to Los Angeles so he could re-record all the drum tracks himself. It's that sort of honesty that cuts through the traditional documentary material and gives this one a personality of its own.

Family Matters: one of the best things about this documentary is the focus on family. Not just the "band as family," but actual family, too. The film's last segment focuses on the recording of the Foos current album, and we get to be a fly-on-the-wall in Grohl's garage to watch the band members record their parts, critique each other, and interact in ways that never feel staged. Because this is all happening at Grohl's house in Encino, we get the pleasure of watching Grohl's daughter flit in-and-out of the studio, reminding her daddy of promises to go swimming. The best moment here is when Grohl is trying to record an intricate track while his little girl taps him on the shoulder. Normally this wouldn't even be a big deal, except the Foos decided to record Wasting Light in the old-fashioned analog way, on tape, meaning that each take pretty much needed to be perfect because there was no digital process to fall back on as a safety net.

Live Performances are Weird at Movie Theaters: I was excited to watch the Foo Fighters perform their new album live from Los Angeles after the movie. They are a great live band, their brand of rock music readymade for the stage. And as a band, they did not disappoint, ripping through the songs on Wasting Light with passion and fury. Unfortunately, for as good as the songs sounded, the overall vibe of the performance was weak. Their performance was done in a studio, not in front of a crowd, so everything seemed antiseptic. In addition, the crowd I was with never really got into the performance outside of clapping politely after each song. Live music -- and musicians -- feed off of a buzzing crowd, and the performance here just had that missing piece: crowd energy. Personally, I felt the live performances from the documentary felt more intense and moving than the in-studio set.

There is no doubt that the Foo Fighters have made a great rock album. I can see several of the current cuts setting rock radio on fire this summer. And if anything, this double feature of documentary and live performance has only whetted my appetite to get tickets to see them in person when they come to town.

Horror Seldom Seems So Fun -- Reflections on "Insidious" (2011)

2011-04-02T00:58:00.000-07:00

"Honey, are you sure it isn't just the washing machine that's haunted?"

My son, Tommy, loves being scared. It's not the craving of a horror film junkie who pursues every scary film he/she can find. It's the joy of a child, who gets an adrenaline fix everytime he thinks there's a monster under the bed, or every time he sees the picture of a scary face. Tommy loves to hit YouTube and look for movie trailers to Tim Burton movies, enjoying the creep factor of Nightmare Before Christmas, Edward Scissorhands, and Sweeney Todd.

When I was Tommy's age, I, too, was a fear junkie. I used to have this hardcover book whose title I can't remember. It was a dusty white volume with silver writing on the side. I can't even remember what was in it except for one page in particular. It had an illustration of a black widow spider dangling from a web. That picture both enthralled and terrified me; I couldn't put my fingers on the page without imagining that spider leaping off it and biting my finger with poison-tipped fangs.

Those memories make me laugh now just as they did then when the book wasn't in my hands. It was fun to be scared. James Wan's Insidious comes from a similar place, I think. I can imagine Wan and his writer, Leigh Whannell, geeking out on some of their favorite creep-out moments in movies and deciding that's the sort of picture they want to make. Insidious is a fun scary movie. It's filled with all the requisite shocks and chills, creaks and things-that-go-bump-in-the-corners-of-the-frame. But it's also made with loving attention to detail, from the casting to the Easter eggs to the low-budget effects that seem to work better than any of the digital ones.

Basics: Josh (Patrick Wilson) and Renai (Rose Byrne) Lambert move their nuclear family into a creepy old house. At first all is copacetic, but after an accident in the attic their son, Dalton (Ty Simpkins), goes into an unexplainable coma that lasts months. During this time Renai begins to hear all sorts of creepy shit, sees twisted faces in windows and shadows, and begins to realize the house is haunted. Unfortunately, Josh is running away from all the problems by hiding at work, but he decides to placate his wife by moving the family to another, more modern home. Everything begins to go berserk when all the noises, faces, and other typical scary film stuff comes back to, er, haunt her. She decides to hire some paranormal investigators and a psychic to figure it all out. They do and realize they've unlocked some seriously crazy bad juju.

It's All in the Details: Every good horror film works hard to get the details right, and Insidious is no exception. The casting is spot-on, with Rose Byrne's beautiful wide eyes perfectly capturing Renai's horror and despair, while Patrick Wilson's haunted everyman demeanor is subtle and convincing. Kudos goes to the casting director for bringing Barbara Hershey on board. Horror fans are very familiar with her classic turn as a ghost-rape-victim in The Entity, and in Insidious she looks and acts like someone carrying a secret that awful on her shoulders. There are also some fun Easter eggs in the film, too. For example, when we're in Josh's classroom, there's a drawing of the Jigsaw puppet from the Saw movies in the bottom corner of the chalkboard (James Wan directed the first Saw film).

Angry Spirits Aren't the Only Influence in This Film: It's obvious Wan and Whannell have an affection for classic horror films. The Lambert's house is straight out of Amityville Horror, the metaphysical explanations seem powered by spirits from Poltergeist, and the dark humor of Sam Raimi's Evil Dead and Drag Me to Hell is prominent in the movie's second half. There's even a visual theme seemingly lifted from the production design of many of the most popular Hammer horror titles of the 50s and 60s. This love for scary movies never seems tired, and really gives life to a plot that in lesser hands might seem hackneyed.

A Tale of Two Halves: The only criticism I can give Insidious is the film's apparent schizophrenia. The first half is dark, ominous, and really scary. Once the psychic investigators enter the story, the film seems to change gears, and a long expository sequence in the middle removes some of the effective tension by explaining too much too soon. As a result, the second half of the film loses some of the sense of urgency generated in earlier scenes. Fortunately the performances carry the movie from this point, and some well placed scares keep the movie from completely derailing.

Insidious is a reminder of those great, terrible moments as children when we got off on being scared. It is the sort of movie today's kids -- like Tommy -- will sneak around their protective parents backs to watch, only to remember them fondly years later. In other words, horror movies seldom feel so fun.

A Funeral I Would Attend -- Reflections on "Get Low" (2010)

2011-03-27T08:20:00.000-07:00

I know a lot of people out there are scared to die. Of course we are since we have no tangible assurance as to what waits for us -- if anything -- on the other side of this life. I think a part of us worries most, though, about what others will say about us once we've departed. I know I do. Will people show up at my funeral? Will they remember me fondly, swapping fun stories, or will they choose to remember instead all the wretched things I did in my life?

Get Low, the first feature film from director Aaron Schneider, starts off being about this, but becomes something deeper and more emotionally complex as it goes. By the end, I thought the film was more about how afraid we are to continue living in the face of our worst sins than it is about any fear of death or other's judgment of our lives. This complexity helps Get Low become a substantial, emotionally rewarding film.

Basics: After learning of the death of a long-time friend, a mysterious and ornery hermit named Felix Bush (Robert Duvall) gets the idea to take the money he has saved and buy a funeral party to be held before his passing. Everyone is shocked by the audacity of the request, but local funeral director, Frank Quinn (Bill Murray) sees an opportunity to save his dying business from closing. With the help of Frank's assistant, Buddy (Lucas Black), they work to throw Felix a huge celebration. Along the way, Felix re-encounters some old faces from his life before he became a hermit. Mattie Darrow (Sissy Spacek) and Rev. Charlie Jackson (Bill Cobbs) remind Felix of the sins of his past that caused him to hide from the world, sins so great that Felix is forced to re-evaluate his decision to stage a funeral for himself.

Duvall is a fine wine: Look at Robert Duvall's IMDb resume sometime and you'll see a list of some of the greatest movies ever made: To Kill a Mockingbird, True Grit, The Godfather, The Conversation, Network, Apocalypse Now, Tender Mercies, The Apostle. His performance as Felix Bush is one of his best. He reveals Felix to be obstinate, crusty, and scary. You don't need to hear all the folk tales about how scary Felix was because you can believe them when you take one look at Duvall's haggard face. At the same time, Duvall subtly plays Felix's sensitivity and personal horror well, especially in his scenes with Sissy Spacek. Without Duvall, this film falls apart as predictable drivel, and probably doesn't get made.

Bill Murray should be in every indie movie: Murray is a mercurial actor at best -- he used to be the comedic genius that brought us Ghostbusters, Stripes, and Groundhog Day and now only seems to star in indie pictures like Rushmore, Lost in Translation, and Get Low. Nonetheless, his streak of indie successes is such that he makes the movie just by showing his goofy face. In Get Low, he plays Frank Quinn as a former car salesman who is not opposed to being shady to get a deal done, yet has enough human decency to avoid it at all costs. Only Murray could play a character who seems so smarmy on the surface, yet can maintain their dignity and goodness.

Before the religious types grab hold of this movie, think about: Get Low is a story about forgiveness, acceptance for things that can't be changed, and grace. These are viable religious themes, likely to attract believers looking for a film they can share as evidence of God's divine mercy. On one end, I can see this as true, but Get Low does not affect many religious values outside of the basics. It is ultimately a movie about personal forgiveness. Can a man forgive himself for his crimes against others? Whether this involves God or not in immaterial here.

Get Low is an excellent indie film, filled with terrific performances and twists that involve not plot points, but themes about life and death and redemption. I'm down for that over a mindless action film almost any day of the week.

My Trip to the Dentist and Other Thoughts -- Reflections on "Sucker Punch" (2011)

2011-03-26T00:08:00.000-07:00

Gun toting strippers for womens' rights

A few months back I had to get dental surgery. There was a chip in my front tooth that had been filled years ago, but fell out when I was brushing my teeth. The dentist felt it was best to put a cap on the tooth instead of filling it again. But this meant I had to endure three hours of oral surgery as the dentist filed down my tooth to the tiniest sliver (I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I looked a bit like Sloth in The Goonies) so she could insert the cap. Three hours felt like nine. Because of the anesthetic, I couldn't feel the drill cutting away almost all of my tooth, but I could hear it, sense it, and smell it (like burned popcorn). When she was done, the tooth looked great, but I was exhausted, depressed, and tense from the whole experience.

Watching Sucker Punch was just like this.

Plot Outline: Babydoll (Emily Browning) is thrown into an insane asylum by her wicked stepfather after she accidentally kills her little sister. You see, her mother has died and left a sizable inheritance to Babydoll and her sister. Stepfather is outraged and uses Babydoll's mistake as an opportunity to rid himself of her and gain access to her mother's fortune. Once in the asylum, things get weird. Babydoll teams up with other inmates and together they fantasize about themselves as a ragtag group of erotic dancers using their charms and other fantasies to find their way to freedom.

The Good: Zack Snyder's (300, Watchmen) work has always been praised for its heavily stylized visuals, CGI usage, and cutting edge editing and camera movement. Sucker Punch is no different. It's a gorgeous film to look at, each shot looking as if it were cut-and-pasted from a awesome comic book. The set design, visual effects, and camera work is superb.

One sequence in the film stands out as a great example of this. One of Babydoll's fantasies involves she and her girlfriends being transported to a WWI bunker. Their mission is to obtain a map from one of the enemy Nazi Zombies who gush steam when shot or stabbed as opposed to blood. It's a silly idea, but well-executed. The look and feel of the action is exhilarating. Unfortunately, the lasting impression is that of an order of french fries -- they look yummy, taste yummy, but do little for you and are easily forgotten once they exit your body.

The Bad: A lot. Here are 3 things:

1. The plot is about as coherent as Charlie Sheen. Seriously. Once Babydoll starts fantasizing, the worlds she concocts are supposedly caused by her dancing. Her dancing is so hypnotic that all who watch her are entranced, allowing her band of misfit strippers to steal items needed for their escape. This is a cool idea until you wonder how her friends can be both A) stealing things while others are entranced and B) participating in all the ass kicking that goes on in Babydoll's fantasies.

2. The Giant Samurai Robots are better characters than half the cast. Vanessa Hudgens and Jamie Chung as Blondie and Amber are fairly useless characters who seem to be nothing more than tools to push the plot along. Their fate in the third act made me believe that when Snyder first started writing this story, he didn't have them as characters until he came into a plot problem and realized he needed a couple new characters to make the story work. Until they are needed for the plot machine, all the two do is merely look sexy and utter feeble one-liners.

3. The video game experience of it all. I must confess that I am not a gamer, but do appreciate video games. Snyder, though, must love video games with an intense hard-on because this whole film is styled after a really bad one. The opening is mostly silent and unfolds its sharp imagery like a role-playing video game setting up the story you're about to play. From there, Babydoll's story is told in levels, with each fantasy representing another level with some sort of boss at the end that must be defeated. The problem with this is that video games build in intensity as they go; they get harder and more challenging. I can't say the same is true for our band of heroines. Just because characters die doesn't mean the game play got tougher.

The Ugly: Perhaps the worst thing about Sucker Punch is its arrogant stance as a film about feminism and female liberation. Snyder wants you to believe he's all about female power and freedom, but the movie's visuals undercut its ideals at every turn. The only way for Babydoll to obtain freedom is by dancing seductively, and to have male wish fulfillment fantasies in which she and her friends wield big-ass guns and swords while wearing tight leather and school girl attire. I don't see young girls rising to fight for their independence after seeing this movie, but I do see a lot of teen boys' jerking off.

Last Word: Zack Snyder is trying really hard here to impress us, and I imagine some will be. Most will be boys between the ages of 12-20. I still believe Snyder is a gifted director, but if Sucker Punch is the best he can give us, it won't be long before we start comparing him with M. Night Shyamalan.

The Good, The Bad and the REALLY Ugly -- Reflections on "Rango" (2011)

2011-03-15T10:23:00.000-07:00

We are who we say we are.

Rango just may be the ugliest looking movie I've seen in a long time.

And I mean this as a compliment.

Gore Verbinski (The Ring, Pirates of the Caribbean) has taken his considerable talents to the animated feature and given us not only an excellent animated movie, but an excellent film. Rango may be advertised as a child's movie about a western chameleon, but it's really is an existential Western that draws influence from some of the greatest films ever made. The Good the Bad and the Ugly, High Noon, Blazing Saddles, and Chinatown are all on display here, but not in that wink-wink-nudge-nudge way that most children's animated movies seem to do when they want parents to feel like they're in on a joke. The influences are in the language of the film, the way the story's told, revealing the director's vision as opposed to showing how clever he is.

The story of Rango involves an unnamed chameleon who spends his days making up stories, re-inventing himself, and putting the moves on a decapitated Barbie doll. After an accident, he finds himself in the middle of the desert, thirsty and uncertain of his future. A series of events lead him to the desert town of Dirt, populated by the ugliest faces we've seen since Sergio Leone hung up his jock strap.

Dirt's residents are facing a water crisis, which gives our chameleon friend an opportunity to find purpose and re-invent himself as Rango, the badass town Sheriff, whose arrival ushers in an era of hope. Rango finds things a bit harder than expected as he has to deal with an group of outlaws, the shady town Mayor, and the wicked Rattlesnake Jake.

The plot hits some familiar beats, but the joy of the film is in the details. The faces of the people, so ugly, are distinctive and full of character. The design of Dirt is a marvel, looking like a place that has been lived in, despite being built out of junk left behind in the desert. And the moment of truth for our hero, which we knew had to come, leads to a great piece of dialogue: "No man can walk out on his own story." This film is pop-philosophy at its best.

Rango is a wonderful film for those who love cinema.

"Vatican Assassin Warlocks" Would Be a Great Rock Band Name and Other Thoughts on the Charlie Sheen Mess

2011-02-25T14:28:00.000-08:00

It's no longer 1989, Charlie. You ain't "bitchin'" no more.

I'm not a fan of Two and a Half Men, but I have long been a fan of Charlie Sheen. His work in movies ranging from Wall Street and Platoon to Major League and Hot Shots, as well as his work on TV's Spin City is pretty inspired and top-notch. I've also appreciated his honesty and professionalism -- despite his wild, well-documented party life, he has never been accused of diva behavior or halting productions.

Nonetheless, I think he just nailed the coffin shut on his career.

In a radio interview on the Alex Jones Show, Sheen ripped his producer, Chuck Lorre, made what seemed to be anti-semitic remarks about Lorre's name, blasted Alcoholics Anonymous, and put made comments about himself that could only be interpreted as delusional and narcissistic. In other words, this was Alex Jones' wet dream, the interview that will no doubt put his radio show on the map (for a little while, at least).

Here are a few highlights from the interview:

"The only thing I'm addicted to right now," he said, "is winning. You know? This bootleg cult arrogantly referred to as AA now supports a 5 percent success rate. My success rate is 100 percent. Do the math! One of their stupid mottos is 'Don't be special, be one of us.' News flash! I am special and I will never be one of you."

"I'm so tired of pretending like my life isn't perfect and bitchin' and just winning every second."

About Chuck Lorre and Two and a Half Men: "I've spent, I think, close to the last decade, I don't know, effortlessly and magically converting your tin can into pure gold. And the gratitude I get is this charlatan chose not to do his job, which is to write."

Here are 5 things I take away from this interview, and from the Charlie Sheen mess in general.

1. Sheen still thinks this is the 1980s. It's obvious by his word choice (bitchin') and drug of choice (cocaine) that he is still hanging out in 1989. Which makes me wonder if he'll play the role of Chevy Chase in Hot Tub Time Machine 2.

2. AA couldn't have paid for a better celebrity endorsement. Sheen's denial about his drug addiction and assertion that he's "cured" is a joke, and his attempt to make AA look bad by calling them a "bootleg cult" and citing their 5 percent success rate only makes me realize how necessary they are. Accountability is obviously not high on Sheen's list of behaviors, and if AA does anything really well, it's providing an accountability system for addicts who are serious about sobriety.

3. Mel Gibson move over -- Charlie Sheen's moving in! Partying with hookers, doing mountains of dope, stopping production of the number one television show, and conducting foolish radio interviews in the midst of a career crisis (he also appeared on the Dan Patrick Radio Show last week) makes his meltdown even more public than Gibson's, and embarrassing to a hell of a lot more people. Gibson just came across as a racist, alcoholic asshole with anger management issues. Sheen comes across as a prima donna, delusional narcissist who isn't afraid to throw people under the bus when things don't go according to plan.

4. Two and a Half Men is finished. Jon Cryer and the fat kid need to find other gigs, because I don't see this one fixing itself. This show has gone down faster than the Hindenburg. I can't imagine Chuck Lorre sitting in his office with his writing staff plotting out another season of the show, unless it involved a "very special episode" in which Sheen's eponymous character dies in a horrific accident involving his cock, a meat grinder, and an angry porn star.

5. Sheen will not be the next Ron Jeremy. If the reports of porn stars who slept with him are to be believed, Sheen is not in Jeremy's weight class as a fuck buddy. And even if he were, after his comments about the "turds" he partied with, I don't imagine the adult industry's best and brightest will be lining up to sign him to a contract after his career goes down the shitter. He might be able to find space next to Dustin Diamond on the porn shelves if he can manage to leak a sex tape, but unless he's snorting coke out of a porn star's ass, I don't imagine most people caring enough to resurrect his soon to be defunct career.

Social Networking and Our Jobs

2011-02-11T14:09:00.000-08:00

Being "lost in pop culture" means many things. It involves looking at entertainment media, most certainly, which I spend most of my time on this blog doing. But it also means looking at events going on in the culture itself, and reflecting on how these events are changing the culture in which we live.

Social networking is the defining media of our times, and of this current generation. It's amazing to think that in merely 20 years we've gone from beepers to cell phones to e-mail, internet and now social networking sites. Being able to stay in constant contact with everyone in our lives seems to have made our lives more transparent, our opinions more available, and our secrets less secret.

This was hammered home today for me in a story I read on the Huffington Post about a high school teacher, Natalie Munroe, in Pennsylvania, who used a blog called Natalie's Hand Basket to not only talk about her day-to-day life, but also about her work as a teacher.

She used her blog specifically to address her frustrations with her students. In one particular post, she created a series of comments she wished she could select when filling out her students' report cards. Of the comments, here were some of the most incendiary:

"I hear the trash company is hiring."

"Just as bad as his sibling. Don't you know how to raise kids?"

"I didn't realize one person could have this many problems."

"I won't even remember her name next semester if I see her in the hall."

"One of the few students I can abide this semester."

"Unable to think for himself."

"There's no other way to say this: I hate your kid."

I wish I could be up in arms about this. I wish I could be offended and outraged like many of the people who posted comments on her blog. Unfortunately, I can only feel sympathy and sadness. Maybe it's because I'm a teacher and can understand where she was coming from. Kids can be very frustrating, and I would be remiss if I didn't say that in the privacy of my own home, or in the privacy of select company, or in the privacy of a journal I haven't expressed similar thoughts.

But that's the point. Privacy. It is a sign of the times that a high school teacher might find it acceptable to put her thoughts about her students on the Internet for anyone to read. Did she think that no one would read it? Did she think that since she was exercising free speech and didn't give any specific student names that no one would care, or that there would be no fallout?

Social networking, I believe, has convinced many of us that it is okay to say anything and everything that comes to our mind right as it pops up. Twitter, with its 140 character outbursts, has caused more than a few controversies. The even more popular Facebook enables you to make public everything you think about to a worldwide audience. Last year, a young man who was employed by the Pittsburgh Pirates was fired when he made a negative comment about the re-signing of the team's general manager. He wrote, not as an employee, but a disgruntled fan who'd faced years upon years of misery rooting for the disgraceful Pirates franchise. It was easy to understand his frustration, but he lost his job for exercising his free speech.

Good thing he was only one of the guys wearing a pirogi costume and running races between innings.

Mrs. Munroe isn't so lucky.

I think we forget that the things we post on-line have the potential of being read by lots of people. Or maybe we know this, but we have a "death wish" of sorts that requires we post things we know can cause us pain. If I'm having a bad day at work and want to rag on the boss, saying something on Facebook might give me a feeling of power not just because I said it, but because there's a chance the boss just might see it. In a way, our connection to the social network is like the connection between drugs and users -- ask any user if they know shooting heroin can kill them. They will all say 'yes.' And they'll probably say it while getting tied off.

It's a paradox. The more public we make ourselves, the more privacy we seem to need. I'm sure Mrs. Munroe is thinking about this right now, filled with regret. I'm hoping the vitriol she displayed on her blog isn't what's really in her heart. Telling the world everything we feel and think may seem tempting, but it is most certainly a Pandora's Box. File this under cautionary tales for the new generation.

Dealing with Death -- Reflections on "Gates of Heaven" (1978)

2011-02-11T10:43:00.000-08:00

When it comes to animals, people can be very irrational and strange. To many pet owners, their animals are family members. They are named, spoken to, loved, and honored. In return, they love us unconditionally, curling up beside us on the couch when we're watching a movie, or licking our hands and faces like kisses during hard times. The death of an animal can often be just as hard to deal with as that of another person. For some, it's as though animals are people.

In 1978, documentary filmmaker Errol Morris, read about a legal situation involving a pet cemetery in Los Altos, California. The owner/operator of the cemetery, Floyd McClure, was required to dig up the 250 or so dead animals buried there. These animals were then relocated to Napa Valley and the Bubbling Well Pet Memorial Park. Morris saw an opportunity to make a film, and from this he gave us the offbeat, beautiful reflection on life and death, Gates of Heaven.

At first glance, Gates of Heaven seems dull. There is no narration. The people involved, from Floyd McClure to the Harberts family -- owners of Bubbling Well -- are allowed to speak for themselves. As the story progresses, Morris cuts to interviews with pet owners who talk about their animals and their thoughts about the afterlife. They are sincere, thoughtful, everyday people. At times they are funny, like Florence Rasmussen, a little old lady who is trapped in her home and laments the loss of animals in the neighborhood -- everything she says she contradicts. Sometimes I wondered if Morris was making fun of them, especially Dan Harberts, the youngest of his family, who comes across as a philosophical slacker who dramatically takes to setting up his guitar amp atop the hill outside his small house and playing so all can hear.

Upon reflection, though, I think Errol Morris is reserving judgment. He wants us to think about our feelings about life and death and uses the conceit of the pet cemetery to force us to face our own fears of what lies in the next world. The early battle between Floyd McClure and the local rendering company is a struggle over how we as a society should respect the deceased. Does an animal deserve the same respect as a person? Do some people deserve more respect than others? Is the way we dispose of remains an indicator of how meaningful we perceive life and death to be?

Gates of Heaven is slight and subtle, but full of quirky humor. It's great fun listening to the owner of the rendering company talk about how people don't want him to talk about his job at parties and how he doesn't understand why they're all so squemish. Dan's older brother, Phillip, waxes philosophically about motivational speaking and his vision for the family business while he sits at a desk surrounded by an ostentatious display of plaques and trophies. The humor arises from people being people, and the feeling that maybe we've shared a similar thought or two from time to time, as ridiculous as it seems. Even if Errol Morris is having a little fun, it's obvious he fully respects these people, letting them speak for themselves, unedited. Even crazy Florence, who gets the film's longest monologue.

Death is among the most thought about facets of life, but one of the least discussed. Gates of Heaven, through its topic and use of humor, helps us to face such sobering reality with grace.

"Louder Than a Bomb" Brings Poetry Slam Into the Spotlight

2011-02-03T18:55:00.000-08:00

Testify to the Power of Poetry!

A new documentary called Louder Than a Bomb is screening this Friday in Chicago. It tells the story of four Chicago teens who have been selected to participate in the annual "Louder Than a Bomb" Poetry Slam event in which more than 600 teens from 60 schools come to perform their unique and original poetry.

Some of you might immediately start yawning, but before you pass judgement, you ought to know a few things about Poetry Slam.

Poetry Slam is a competitive art, in which poets combine elements of writing, acting, and dance to create dynamic presentations of their work. Five judges score the process using an Olympic 0-10 scale, looking at not just the words of the poet, but the overall performance. There are specific rules in competition: no props, costumes, or instruments. There is a 3-minute time limit for each performance with a ten second grace period. Audiences are encouraged to make their feelings about the poet's work known, giving the whole event a real community vibe that is unbelievably cool.

The first Slam was held in Chicago in 1984. A construction worker and poet named Marc Smith established it at a Jazz club, the Get Me High Lounge. Popularity increased and by 1990 the first National Poetry Slam was held in San Francisco. Slams are now a worldwide phenomenon.

For me, I first learned about Poetry Slam at the California League of High Schools conference in November 2002. A teacher/speaker held a workshop on Slam's effectiveness in encouraging students to write. I was intrigued and decided to try it. In the Spring of that year, I hosted my first Poetry Slam event at San Jacinto High School's theater for my English students. The winners prize was $5.00 in coins, and the judges culled from administrators, fellow teachers and parents.

The event was a success. Students who initially seemed reticent to perform found their voice and delivered beautiful poetry. I was remarkably proud of these kids, who before we even started writing poetry were quick to express their hatred for the artform. I'd like to think some hearts and minds were changed over the course of the Slam.

After I left San Jacinto High, I took the Slam to the middle school level and found more success with 8th grade English Language Learners. We didn't have the same facilities at Ruth O. Harris Middle School that we did at the high school, but it didn't matter. I invited the parents to join us for an evening potluck in the school's multi-purpose room. Again, the warmth of the community and the spirit of the evening brought out the best in the kids, who delivered some remarkable poetry.

Anything that encourages kids to think, write, and express the whirlwind of ideas consuming their minds is something beautiful. Poetry Slam offers this opportunity. And by making it a fun competition, kids will rise to the occasion.

I'm looking forward to Louder Than a Bomb more than any feature film this year.* Maybe it's because of my experience with Poetry Slam, but mainly because it appears to be a celebration of the creativity of youth.

*According to the film's official website, the documentary will be airing sometime soon on Oprah Winfrey's OWN Network. While I am usually very critical of Oprah, this is great and gives most of us who can't get into the big cities to see small films like this in limited release a chance to see it.

Tony Montana: Hero? -- Reflections on "Scarface" (1983)

2011-02-01T12:02:00.000-08:00

Did you ever know that you're my hero?

I don't know why it took me so long to finally see Scarface. For years, as a teacher, I've been exposed to images of Tony Montana on the binders and T-shirts of every wanna-be bad-ass kid in my classes. When I go to the shopping mall, there's always some art vendor with a charcoal illustration of Montana, slunk back in his tall throne, a mountain of cocaine on the desk in front of him. Or its a picture of him from the film's climax, in which Tony whips out his "little friend" and blasts his mansion all to hell.

Maybe I didn't want to see it because of the hype, although that's unlike me. Maybe it was because I don't think most middle and high school students have very good taste in film -- often declaring films like Friday, Colors and American Me masterpieces like most critics talk about Citizen Kane, The Godfather and Casablanca.

The answer most likely lies in the fact that Scarface has become such an influential part of our culture that I felt like I had seen it. In a way, doesn't everyone? Some of its dialogue has become among the most quoted in movie history: "Say hello to my little friend!"; "All I have in this world is my balls and my word and I don't break them for no one."; "I always tell the truth. Even when I lie." The clips of Tony gunning down a group of Columbian gangsters are often shown on TV. You don't really need to see the movie to feel like you have.

Now that I've seen the film, though, I understand why all the wanna-be bad-asses worship at the altar of Tony Montana. He's tough, dramatic, lives impulsively, and takes what he wants when he wants it. Tony doesn't back down to anyone. In the climax, he must get hit at least 10-15 times by machine gun bullets before he is felled by the gangster that sneaks behind him. Tony's hardcore. He's a man's man.

It says a lot about a culture, though, by how they want a "real" man to be. In the 50s and 60s we wanted our men to be like John Wayne -- rough, gritty, and moral. In the 70s it was Clint Eastwood -- quiet, strong, resilient, and unafraid to do what it took to get the job done. Al Pacino's Tony Montana is the next stage in the evolution of that character. While Eastwood's character could be shady, if necessary, Tony Montana relishes in being the bad guy. At one point during the film, a drunken Tony shouts at a restaurant full of wealthy diners, "You need people like me. You need people like me so you can point your fuckin' fingers and say, 'That's the bad guy!'"

Our heroes now are "bad" guys. Tony Soprano, Dexter Morgan, Walter White, Vincent Vega. We root for them and want them to do well. We don't want to see them punished for their crimes. Often we are allowed to see their behavior justified.

I think many of those who identify with Tony Montana don't look past the bravado and machismo of the character. If they did, what they would find instead is not a hero, but a snake. A slimy, narcissistic animal who feeds off others, and then eventually off of himself. His unwillingness to trust anyone but himself, and to question everyone's moral actions but his own make him a monster. He's not a symbol of manhood; he's a symbol of capitalism -- as pure and unadulterated as the cocaine he snorts with the gusto of a dog licking its own vomit.

Granted, I'm certain this analysis has been written a million times by critics much smarter than I. Yet, it's interesting to me that while Oliver Stone's script and Brian DePalma's direction make this analysis obvious and breathtaking in its execution, our culture chooses to embrace Montana as a folk hero. While discussing the film with me, my girlfriend said that people love Tony because he's an immigrant who came from nothing and got everything he wanted. I can see that. So did Vito Corleone, though, but it's Pacino's Michael that is most well remembered when people talk about The Godfather. She's right, though. People love rags-to-riches stories. Scarface is certainly one of the most memorable.

In the end, I have to say that our culture has come to idolize characters like Tony Montana because we have come to distrust authority. Like Robin Hood, Jesse James, and Bonnie and Clyde, Tony's an outlaw, sticking it to the "Man" at every chance, whether it be his own boss, Frank Lopez, his partner Sosa, or the Miami police. Since the movie's release in 1983, our society has become increasingly frustrated with its leaders and authority figures. We trust no one, it seems. Police, politicians, military leaders, teachers, corporate executives -- collectively, it seems most people believe that everyone is in it for his or herself. Our recent history doesn't do much to discredit this notion. With that in mind, Tony Montana becomes a hero for the simple fact that he doesn't lie about his motivation: he wants the world, all of it. He speaks for the rebel in each of us who feels the same but lacks the cojones to go about getting it the way he does. That's what the movies are for, though, to allow us to live the lives none of us could ever attempt to live.

In the end, I'm glad I waited this long to watch Scarface. The younger me would've been less appreciative and more inclined to simply enjoy the style and violence of the film. Now, though, I can reflect upon it with a man's eyes and see Tony Montana for what he really is. Unfortunately, those kids in my classes won't be able to do the same.

"The King's Speech" Controversy

2011-01-31T10:48:00.000-08:00

"What the fuh-fuh-FUCK do I have to suh-say to guh-get a puh-puh-PG-13?"

Harvey Weinstein, president of the Weinstein Company, recently stated that his company may re-release their Oscar-nominated film The King’s Speech as a PG-13 film with one profanity-laced scene re-cut. The film, an inspiring British tale about King George VI’s famous stutter, features a scene in which the future king is incited by his speech therapist to curse profusely because no one ever stutters when they curse. This scene, which has several “f-words,” is the reason the MPAA gave it an R rating.

The film’s director, Tom Hooper, told Entertainment Weekly, “I wouldn’t support cutting the film in any way. I think we looked at whether it’s possible to bleep out the f—s and stuff, but I’m not going to actually cut that part.” Helena Bonham Carter, who plays King George’s supportive wife, added, “I don’t think it needs to be cut down. I think every 13-year-old knows [the words], I think every 8-year-old [does].”

There is no doubt a PG-13 rating brings with it the opportunity for a wider general audience. Even with its current R rating, The King’s Speech is an overwhelming success, earning over $60 million in the box office. Weinstein’s reasoning makes sense, though. More people will likely go, bringing their younger kids, if the film has a softer rating.

This begs the question: as parents, should we care about ratings? Would a reduced rating for The King’s Speech make parents feel safer taking their kids?

The King’s Speech is an inspiring movie. It has no sexual content, very little – if any – violence. It is only rated R because of foul language in one specific scene. Basically, it’s a PG film with an R rated mouth. This is the sort of film parents should be taking their children to see in order to open a discussion about overcoming obstacles in life.

Whether the movie is re-cut or not, take your children to see it. Talk to them about King George’s dilemma. Ask them about whether or not it was his pride or his stammer that was his real obstacle. Use the film as a chance to discuss the friendship between the King and his therapist and emphasize the importance of having a strong support system in your life. Censorship may be a solution to making more money at the box office, but it is never a solution in making more conversations with our kids.

Criminal Elements -- Reflections on "Animal Kingdom" (2010)

2011-01-29T18:49:00.000-08:00

"Give Us a Kiss, Sweetie."

Tolstoy said that all unhappy families are unhappy in their own way. Truer words could not be applied to the film Animal Kingdom, an Australian crime film from director David Michôd.

Animal Kingdom tells the story of Joshua "J" Cody (James Frecheville), who is reintroduced to his extended family after the drug overdose death of his mother. His family is a gang of bank robbers and drug dealers in various states of trouble with the local authorities. After the murder of his uncle Barry (Joel Edgerton) by the police, the family -- led by his uncle Pope (Ben Mendelsohn) -- get revenge by murdering two officers. J finds himself in over his head as he deals with family suspicions, police interrogations, and his budding awareness of just how small and inconsequential he is in the scheme of things.

What makes this film an excellent crime thriller are the character actors comprising the family. Most notable is Jacki Weaver, who plays Janine "Smurf" Cody, the matriarch of the clan who comes across as a sweet, saccharine old lady. She is hands on with her boys, frequently kissing each square on the mouth, and acting as if she has little to no knowledge of the criminal lives they lead. At first Weaver's performance seems to be of background importance -- she's just a kooky part of the setting that grounds the family -- yet in the movie's second half she erupts like a volcano and reveals a character more shrewd than we could ever have expected.

Weaver's is not the film's only excellent performance. Mendelsohn's work as uncle Pope is unpredictable and frightening. He's introduced as the family's wild card, the one the police are really after, but that's not nearly enough to prepare us for what he's really made of. His eyes are reptilian, his body movements slithery, yet his voice is smooth and seldom ruffled despite the most trying of events.

Crime films are usually filled to the brim with overcooked heist plots, or gangster garbage. The best crime films spend time with the characters, giving us time to know them, sympathize with them, or completely fear them. Yet, these characters -- no matter how great -- are usually separated from society. They live in a world we don't know, and can't completely relate to. Animal Kingdom does a great job of stripping the conventional settings of these films, allowing us to see how a criminal family functions in society. J has a girlfriend and he hangs out with her typical suburban family. Before Barry's death we get to see how he and his wife try to fit in. Janine spends time with her next door neighbor. And both the cops and the criminals shop at the same supermarket.

Crime happens all around us, not just in some exclusive world where everyone packs a 9 mm and plots against each other. This film makes it clear that we're already in the middle of other people's badness, whether it be the drug dealer operating low-key in the apartment next door, or the teenager down the block planning to rob a local liquor store with his buddies. Most of us spend our time acting just like Janine in the first half of the film, merrily oblivious. Of course, that's a good thing.

Check out Animal Kingdom, now available on DVD/Blu-ray.

Collision Course -- Reflections on "127 Hours"

2011-01-29T12:28:00.000-08:00

Stop screaming like a sissy and cut it off already!

There's a moment in 127 Hours just as emotionally arresting as the scene in which Aron Ralston (James Franco) cuts off his own arm with a utility knife.

The movie's premise is deceptively simple: Franco plays Aron Ralston, an adventurous rock climber who goes on a rock climb alone in the middle of nowhere, but gets his arm stuck under a rock when he makes a miscalculation. He hasn't told anyone of his whereabouts before the climb, so he's trapped for 127 hours before having to cut off his own arm to save his life. Telling you this is not much of a spoiler -- people will want to see the movie just to watch a man cut off his arm, just as we all like to slow down to watch car wrecks on the freeway, or watch reality television.

The moment that resonated with me even more than the self-amputation was something much less dramatic, but equally as important. Facing his only friend, a video camera he's been using sparingly to chronicle his ordeal, Ralston realizes that meeting this rock has always been his destiny. That since this rock was a tiny meteorite, he has been on a collison course.

Metaphorically, we all have our "rock in a hard place" moments in life where we must make the tough decisions that reveal to us who we really are once the artifices we affect fall away. Addicts call it "hitting rock bottom."

Aron Ralston realizes over the course of his calamity that he is a selfish, self-indulgent, stubborn human being. He's also quite charming and charismatic, but that doesn't change the fact that on his path to being trapped under the rock, he left behind a slew of people hurt by his true nature. The movie's strength comes in bringing Aron's redemption in character moments like this, which set-up the horrific climax so effectively. It's a testament to director/writer Danny Boyle's talent that he turns this tale of survival into a character study with no easy answers.

As with any movie that has a shock ending, the quality is revealed in the journey. Boyle could've made this film quite boring. After all, we are stuck with one character locked in place for several days. He uses some clever camera angles and movements to add to the intensity, but mostly employs some amazing hallucinatory moments and flashbacks to intensify Aron's experience.

None of this would work though without James Franco's triumphant performance. I never thought he'd become such a terrific actor when I first saw him in Spider-Man as Peter Parker's spoiled rich friend, Harry Osbourne. Since then, though, he's selected quality scripts and put together some great work: Pineapple Express, Milk, and Howl are excellent and diverse. Now, with 127 Hours, Franco has constructed a layered character, who struggles to remain clever and cool as he walks the razor's edge of sanity. Despite the obvious tempations, he avoids overacting and as a result gives us a nuanced character.

As I watched 127 Hours, I remember thinking this is why I go to the movies -- so I can experience extreme events like this without ever having to go through them myself. For a movie to remind me of this is enough to make it recommendable. Add to that it's overall quality, it's a must-see.