Change Your Image
MovieCriticDave
Ratings
Most Recently Rated
Reviews
Thirteen Days (2000)
A must-see for a master-class in American anti-diplomacy
There's little debate that no post-WWII conflict came closer to a true nuclear engagement than the Cuban missile crisis - and rarely does a film work so hard and succeed so thoroughly in telling such an historical tale with substantial historical accuracy as "Thirteen Days."
Starring Bruce Greenwood as a phenomenally on-point John Kennedy, "Days" tells a gripping chronological tale of both official and unofficial diplomacy that turned the crisis from one of war to unmistakable American success. Aside from a pointlessly overblown and annoying part for Kevin Costner as Kenny O'Donnel, "Days" is a wonderfully constructed piece that otherwise strives for historical accuracy from the American discovery of the Soviet-backed missiles in Cuba, to the masterful lecture by Adlai Stevenson in the UN, to the "unofficial" diplomatic offer to retire antiquated Jupiter missiles from Europe in concert with a pledge not to invade the island nation.
"Days" wavers a bit with the needless interposition of nuclear test footage and the infamous "drop and cover" civil defense drills of the era, presumably as a way to punctuate a necessarily introspective and narrative view of the diplomatic back-channels and administration in- fighting undertaken to overcome the crisis. And the principals work too hard to master their New England accents, of which Costner's is easily the worst.
From an historical perspective, those involved during the crisis insist O'Donnell's role is drastically overblown, and clearly Costner's participation seems contrived and self-important. Fortunately, the deft direction Roger Donaldson keeps the viewer engaged with the broader epic and the ultimate focus on Kennedy's wisdom and leadership in it's resolution, guided by the book of the same title written by Ernest May.
"Days" isn't your typical action-adventure thriller, with heroic stars rolling down mountains and firing machine guns at virtual bad guys, but considering it's very real undertones and the reality it depicts, it surely merits the attention of anyone who lived through the crisis, or those now enjoying the fruits of its resolution.
Money Monster (2016)
Wall Street meets "The China Syndrome"
Ever hear stories about bad TV sitcoms remaking episodes of older, worse sitcoms simply by changing the scripts some?
Well, somewhere, Jane Fonda and Michael Douglas are either outraged or delighted upon hearing Julia Roberts and George Clooney have remade their 1979 nuclear panic classic, "The China Syndrome." Too bad they transformed it into a really bad parable about contemporary financial angst in "Money Monster."
"China Syndrome," for those unaware or too young to know, was Fonda's dramatic entry into the debate over the risks of nuclear-based power plants. Fonda was a reporter, and Douglas, her photographer, with Jack Lemmon playing the antihero within a corrupt power company. "Syndrome" drew directly from great public trepidation about the safety of nuclear power; "Money Monster" tells precisely the same story (right down to several specific visual elements) against a financial corruption backdrop; it makes Roberts a TV producer, Clooney a TV stock market henchman (an outrageous and some times embarrassing rip-off of CNBC's Jim Cramer), with the antihero played by the lesser-known Jack O'Connell. O'Connell sets this ball rolling by taking Clooney's character hostage on live TV and demanding "answers" following a financial meltdown arising from a "glitch" in one company's computerized market trading algorithms.
On its own, "Money Monster" wavers from contemporary morality play to dumb, overplayed semi-comedy crime drama as its story unfolds. Clooney moves from the self-absorbed TV host to a clown more in the vein of his character from "O Brother, Where Art Thou"; but at least "Monster" gives the audience a few uncomfortable laughs - more than can be said of Clooney's abominably unfunny comedy, "Hail, Caesar." Roberts gives a few fleeting moments of credibility, but seems to phone in half of a performance when it's evident her character's primary role is to toss out TV producer jargon at regular intervals. You can't even bank on the Clooney-Roberts chemistry to help "Monster"; they're barely on screen together until the very end, and by then it doesn't really matter anymore.
There are the requisite dumb cops, incompetent police response teams, even geeky, stereotypical hackers mixed in to "Monster's" play all to force the point that only Clooney and Roberts can resolve the bad- guy answers the film demands. And we'll leave the answers - and the ending - to the viewer....
...Unless they just want to catch a copy of "China Syndrome," and save themselves the effort.
Tomorrowland (2015)
Bizarre sci-fi roller coaster is really a broad Disney metaphor
I wasn't sure exactly what to expect going into Tomorrowland, and I'm even less sure what I saw coming out of it.
Brad Bird's intensely promoted, George Clooney-led vehicle is sold rather transparently as an advertisement for Disney's not-so-ironically named areas of its famous theme parks. To be sure, there are plenty of fairly plain allusions to Disneyworld and Disneyland elements throughout "Tommorowland." Yet the frenetic and often uneven pacing makes it hard to know exactly where the viewer is supposed to jump on board in this curious if feint morality tale pitting optimism versus pessimism in a blender-like mixture of sci-fi, time travel, cyborgs, and general absurdity. If "Blade Runner", "Star Wars", and "Star Trek" crossed with "Back To the Future" and crash-landed in Orlando, "Tormorrowland" would surely be in the merged wreckage.
Ultimately, however, "Tomorrowland" plays less like a commentary on a avoiding an inevitably dystopian human future than an introspective view of the current state of Disney itself; a utopian notion gone awry without its visionary to guide it. Amid its fantastic visuals and caffeinated storytelling is a much simpler notion - that someone recognizes Disney, itself, is a little bit broken, replacing its simple stories and animations for explosions and grand effects, and aspiring to recruit contemporary visionaries to help it regain its lost way.
Can humanity regain its lost way? Can Disney? In its own, heartfelt and sincere, IMAX-inspired way, "Tomorrowland" aspires to put the question out there. Ultimately, it provides no answer; it offers only the hope of one, and an uncomfortable one at that.
The Hundred-Foot Journey (2014)
Don't judge this one by its trailers!
Based solely on its promotion, it would be all too easy to dismiss "Hundred-Foot Journey" as nothing more than a rehashed rom-com in a European context; however, such a dismissal is a grand disservice to a film that deserves far better than its promoters have seen fit to grant.
"Journey" is a quietly told, cautiously written tale about cultural reconciliation, of the strength of families, their losses, and their dreams. It is written far more intelligently than its trailers or promotional material might otherwise suggest, and in that vein a decidedly pleasant tale is buried amid the advertising.
Om Puri plays the patriarch of the Kaddam family, chased from their simple homeland life through purposely non-descript middle-eastern political turmoil. Seeking a new life in Europe, "Papa" sets out to build an Indian restaurant across the path from a traditional French establishment owned by "Madame Mallory," played deftly by Helen Mirren. The expected clash of cultures and egos ensues.
"Journey" is enriched with thoughtful dialog and convincing, understated performances from its cast. Mirren does, however, struggle at times with her learned French accent, and the film seems about 15 minutes too long when it doesn't quite know how to end itself once the story of realized dreams has been told. Yet these flaws hardly mar a fine character film, one that rises well above the moniker of "chick-flick."
The Man in the Moon (1991)
A good movie, but one that could have been great.
For its first 80 minutes, "The Man in the Moon" plays as a handsome, simply woven tale of family life in rural Louisiana, seen primarily through the eyes of two sisters. For its last 25 minutes, it plays out a pointless consequence of manufactured conflict that takes a potentially great film and disappointingly dispatches it as little more than one-off melodrama and an unsatisfying resolution.
Along with Tess Harper as matriarch Abigail, Sam Waterston shows his under-appreciated versatility as Matthew Trant, the stern, hard-working father of Dani, played with extraordinary aplomb by then-newcomer Reese Witherspoon, and her older sister Maureen, played by Emily Warfield. Maureen is looking toward college, while Dani tries hard to convince the world she isn't still a kid at the ripe age of 14. The conflict ensues when the recently widowed friend of Trant's moves into the adjacent farm along with her 17-year-old son, Cort, who catches Dani's eye as her first youthful love.
On the one hand, "Moon" draws a nicely articulated tale of 50's era family life, yet interrupts the tale with manufactured interruptions of tragic shadow that seem only to serve the purpose of...interrupting the tale and force the drama, as if the writers don't truly trust the material they've developed. Individually, the performances are authentic and on the mark, even if the story often isn't.
Despite the story flaws, "Man in the Moon" is a good work. It's just so frustrating to realize that a truly great work was but a stone's throw away.
Wheeler Dealers (2003)
Great, no-nonsense show with a simple "you can do it" attitude
Rarely do shows about often dry topics like car repair resonate with so many people, but it's clear that the British-produced "Wheeler Dealers" hits precisely this mark. With its simple, average-guy approach to buying, repairing, and selling used cars, it conveys an equally simple encouragement to the non-mechanic that anyone with a wrench and a bit of ambition can tackle most repair jobs.
Mike Brewer and Edd China make the perfect tandem of street buying smarts and mechanical know-how that has allowed them to turn a profit on nearly every car they've taken on. Mike's vehicle knowledge combined with his folksy yet hard-charging sales smarts makes you think he could sell venom to a cobra and make the cobra think it was his idea. China's vast yet understated knowledge of the mechanicals combined with his easy-going "let's get cracking" attitude shows how simple many seemingly daunting repairs can be. Obviously, some repairs require tools and resources beyond the scope of many do-it-yourself types, but the mere notion that nothing is beyond the scope of someone willing to "give it a go" makes Wheeler Dealers an unmistakable winner - even if don't own a single "spanner" (wrench).
Here's hoping "Wheeler Dealers" goes on for many years to come!
The Monuments Men (2014)
An understated, respectful adventure of war's hidden cost
"Monuments Men" tries and mostly succeeds to tread a line that draws a cautionary balance between the epic loss of human life during World War II and the collateral loss and outright theft of priceless, historical artworks by the defeated Nazi's through the war's end. "Men" depicts the real-life mission of a group of art specialists to find and retrieve these stolen pieces.
"Men" is a war tale told outside the confines of war in what may be a too-subtle attempt to draw out the inherent irony of abstracting war in art's context. "Men" depicts the trailing end of World War II only in that abstract sense, and to its own detriment arguably makes the process of finding the secreted artworks easier than it could possibly have been in reality.
There is an unevenness in "Monuments Men" that only marginally detracts from its overall quality. When Frank Stokes (George Clooney) meets up with Joseph Granger (Matt Damon) early in the planning stages of their art retrieval task, its hard not to expect at least one solid in-joke from their team-up in the famed "Oceans" film series - yet none comes. "Men" succeeds, however, in its own awareness of the danger and moral propriety in sending military men on a mission to retrieve artworks in the midst of the emerging reality of Nazi genocide.
"Men" is a good, if flawed, film, telling a difficult tale that had to be harder to accomplish in reality than was depicted on screen. Its flaws are in uneven pacing, mismatched musical support, and a too-simple story; yet even amid these flaws, it conveys a valid story about still more heartbreaking loss in the midst of war. IT's worth your consideration.
Skyfall (2012)
A brilliant, relevant 21st century Bond
Hollywood, amid an apparent wave of creative bankruptcy, is replete in this early 21st century with "franchise reboots," from Batman, to Star Trek, and James Bond. To temper traditionalist views of how these franchises "should" play out against the expectation of contemporary audiences is a virtually unsolveable puzzle, and to be sure more than a few have tried their hand at the venerable 007 franchise with varying degrees of success.
"Skyfall," featuring Daniel Craig in his third installment as Bond, offers a fantastically edgy and flawed James Bond, almost nothing like the superficial, perpetually save, always-groomed Roger Moore Bond of the 80's, or the just-blow-up-everything-in-sight version offered in the Pierce Brosnan incarnations. Craig, under the hand of director Sam Mendes, has finally his a fabulous stride of its own that is more reimagination than pure reboot, in a film that pays almost surgically deliberate homage to its predecessor yet carving out a uniquely contemporary Bond that is like none before him.
"Skyfall" producers seemed to have crafted this Bond with a deliberate purpose - to wash away from Bond the presumed Americanized predispositions about what Bond must be, and turned him back into a thoroughly British character, and the result is a fabulously entertaining two-hour 007 spy adventure that somehow reverently knits the iconic past with a grittier, edgier future.
This entry into the Bond lore starts with as eye-popping an opening montage as has been in any prior film, with motorcycle chases atop rows of apartments leading to a rail chase and of, ahem, earth-moving proportions. Yet the prologue is not merely throwaway - it is the foundation on which the rest of "Skyfall" expands.
Reinforcing the notion that Bond is more reimagination than reboot is the plain recognition of Bond's age and history within MI6. He struggles to seem physically and personally relevant as a story about contemporary enemies unfolds around him. This Bond is cognizant of his age and the new, non-cold-war political realities around him, and in that way is reinvented in a contemporary context without putting the 007 "timeline" at point-zero.
Is "Skyfall" perfect? No, but it comes tantalizingly close. Some plot devices are a bit tired, but the fatigue can be excused in light of a broader story in which Bond experiences authentic loss, recognizes to a lesser extent his own mortality, and reflects in a way no prior Bond film has posited the elements of his youth that have made him this transcendent British spy character. To create intriguing depth not before seen in a franchise character like James Bond is no small task, but it "Skyfall" does it with great aplomb.
Sure, "Skyfall" offers its own variety of explosive action and intrigue, but it also manages to accomplish what so many recent Bond incarnations have failed to do - to maintain the notion that the story at hand is a spy thriller of the Bond genetic source material. Where Timothy Dalton's Bond's seemed very much the "duck out of water," and Pierce Brosnan's Bond teetered on the pointless, Craig's version has a character substance and enduring quality possessed of neither of his predecessors. And its precisely that quality that should keep the Bond franchise alive for some time to come.
Top marks, 007.
The Help (2011)
An entirely different way to explain "civil rights"
Rarely does a movie so thoroughly immerse you in its story that you find yourself truly lost in the epic, captured by the soul of a tale that causes the deepest kind of introspections into your own morays, or a stripping away of the naiveté that may have created them. So it is with "The Help," a simply masterful tale that in its epic understatement creates a movie that could fundamentally recharacterize how we view the civil rights movement.
"The Help," adapted from the Katherine Hockett novel of the same name, is a fictionalized story of Skeeter Phelan (Emma Stone), a young deep- South author seeking to tell the tale of the lives of black maids and nannies in mid-1960's Jackson, Mississippi through their eyes, and in their words.
In telling the humble, and often humiliating, tales these women offer, "The Help" becomes a civil rights movie of an entirely different kind, one seen not in the form of protest and division, but one of man's inhumanity to man. "The Help" confronts the viewer with a reality our sensibilities reject, yet compels us to acknowledge.
Viola Davis stars as Aibileen Clark, the maid first approached by Skeeter with the shocking proposal that she discuss her life as the primary caregiver to children in white households. Davis' performance is astonishingly and brilliantly on-the-mark, richly earning her Oscar nomination for best actress. Clark's role is vital in the film's exposition, because if we do not accept her as the conduit through which the stories of other maids are delivered, the movie fails; yet Davis' portrayal of Clark as the sublimely humble heroine confronted to act with the courage of her faith resonates perfectly in the unfolding story.
Clark's own story leads us to her friend Minny Jackson, played superbly by Octavia Spencer. Spencer's precision delivery of Jackson's wit and skepticism is the perfect contrast to the humble and understated Aibileen, and forces us to make sure we trust Skeeter's motives in writing her book.
"The Help" is a richly woven story of still-persistent attitudes towards black Americans in the deep south; that we hear Clark narrate passages from Mississippi law governing the "treatment" of "coloreds" astonishes the viewer all the more, realizing that while the story may be fictionalized, their legally institutionalized treatment was not. Those attitudes of race hatred are rolled masterfully into the manifestly detestable character of Hilly Holbrook (Bryce Dallas Howard), the socialite in charge of the local junior league, and self-appointed leader of the response to the "colored issue."
"The Help" isn't perfect - it comes perilously close to weaving too many characters into too short a time, and at that the movie rings in at a plump 2:26, even after some apparent harsh last-minute editing. Side stories from the book involving a senator's son, Skeeter's mother's ill health, Skeeter's nanny Constantine played by Cicely Tyson, to name only a few, are incorporated, but abbreviated or changed substantially. Fortunately, the underlying story is so strong that the film doesn't become fragmented or suffer as a result.
Many movies are characterized as an experience for their special effects , grand cinematography, or epic scale. "The Help" is just such an experience, but for none of those reasons. It is the compelling performances of a tremendous cast that draw out the tremendous story of real people fighting real prejudice in a region that sees that prejudice as perfectly normal and acceptable. That "The Help" compels the viewer to live in their shoes, if but for a brief time in the abstraction of a movie theater, is a monument to its greatness.
"The Help," in and of itself, is a fictional tale. Yet the masterful way its fiction reveals and explains its underlying truth, represents a simply brilliant piece of movie-making.
Class Action (1991)
Interesting but overwrought courtroom and family drama
Reviewing a movie 20 years following its release is a curious task, as it entails a reflection on its content not merely as film, but as a comment woven of how the movie compares against similar films, and also films of the era from which it originates. "Class Action" serves two masters - those of courtroom drama, and those of family drama. It serves neither especially well.
Courtroom drama is often used as a metaphor for a broader morality play, weighing different varieties of good and evil, or merely right versus wrong. Done well, courtroom drama is capable of producing authentic conflict that forms the basis of outstanding films, such as "A Few Good Men" and "Presumed Innocent," where the core conflict reflected a measure of unease about the kind of justice the films offered, and asking the viewer to consider whether their results were right. "Class Action," however, aspires to no such heights, tossing up a legal softball in the form of a thinly-veiled fictionalization of the famed 1970's Ford "exploding Pinto" design.
With the legal drama paper thin, the characters that tell the story rapidly become strawmen caricatures, and hollow becomes the family conflict between Gene Hackman's Jedediah Tucker Ward and his daughter Maggie, played by Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio. Where Hackman's character is a clichéd 60's counterculture throwback, Mastrantonio's is the equally clichéd corporate attorney. The story allows for no subtleties, and the conflict is decided before the first frame is filmed.
The film's middle third delves into too many tightly-shot, overwrought emotional introspections, and Mastrantonio looks at times exceedingly uncomfortable in the role of an attorney. One can't help but wonder if the cast overcompensates for what it knows is a contrived story, trying to manufacture interesting conflict where the film's end-game can, minus the details, reasonably be predicted.
On its face, the drama between Mastrantonio and Hackman is marginally compelling, but so heavily directed by Michael Apted it makes one wish the characters hadn't been drawn in such a starkly one-dimensional manner so as to allow the viewer the chance to contemplate who holds the moral high ground in their personal life, and, more broadly, in their opposite-ends perspectives in the legal system. As it is, a few scenes of anger and rage, militated by the superfluous introduction of the death of Maggie's mother along the way, merely serve to insist the viewer agree with the film's predetermined conclusions. The result leaves the conflict empty, and the viewer only marginally interested.
The courtroom conclusion provides for its own interesting trapdoor resolution, which won't be revealed here, and that alone does provide "Class Action" the kind of end-game pop it desperately needs. The "pop," however, isn't enough to overcome the hard characterizations that force the dramatic point, rather than allow it to form in the heart and mind of the viewer.
The Adventures of Tintin (2011)
A wonderful "Indiana Jones" caliber adventure
Animated films, having emerged from the shadows of second-tier theatrical status by the likes of Pixar, still derive their elemental success or failure from the quality of the writing. The Adventures of TinTin, a swashbuckling adventure adapted from the French comic books of the same name, is a delightful example of how great writing can combine with animated artistry to craft a wonderful film.
With the measured guidance of Steven Spielberg as its director, Adventures of TinTin sails effortlessly in a captivating but never overwhelming adventure of intrigue, humor, revenge, and harmless peril. TinTin, with his delightfully realized dog Snowy, exhibits a deft balance of action and story development that makes it impossible to look away as its story unfolds.
The story's title character, Tintin, embarks unknowingly on his adventure when nefarious characters become darkly fascinated with his purchase of a model ship from a street vendor. Realizing there is more to their interest than the ship itself, Tintin follows his instincts in a rousing worldwide adventure replete with fascinating characters, delightfully dislikeable bad guys, and a rousing conclusion, all wrapped in an unmistakably "Indiana Jones" themed and paced story. Combined with an Oscar-nominated score by the legendary John Williams, TinTin earns a hearty recommendation for adults and children alike.
The Adventures of TinTin is a hallmark for Spielberg, who provides a 3D version despite the fact it hardly needs it. A great story, converted into a visual medium by a great director, rarely needs such gimmickry, and TinTin surely falls in that class. You won't have to don 3D glasses to enjoy this fine film.
If only others borne of the 3D preoccupation would work so hard to create something even half so good, the entire movie-going world would benefit.
Bravo, Tintin!
Rango (2011)
Stunning, dark Depp animated offering is no child's play...
Let's make this simple. "Rango" is one odd movie.
When it comes to "Rango," a theater full of bouncy young kids proves that marketing works - months of commercials pushing a wide-eyed chameleon voiced by Johnny Depp and supplanted by all manner of cheery dance tunes drove kids - and their parents - in droves to the premiere of the highly-hyped animated tale of reptiles, desert animals, and the wild west.
After seeing "Rango," however, and finding it to be anything but a kids animated movie, one can't help but wonder if most of those kids won't leave disappointed, their parents feeling mislead, and musing if even one of them will come back for a return visit. "Rango" is an odd-duck movie that's tough to endure once, but offers almost no compelling reason for a return visit.
"Rango," to be sure, is a visually stunning, nearly photoreal production of a group of slightly scary ragtag desert creatures in a nearly dead town visited by a bright green chameleon stranger sporting an Hawaiian shirt. What follows is just under two hours of an oddly crafted morality play that is one-third classic Western, one-third "Raising Arizona," and one-third Johnny Depp certified oddness. If "Nightmare Before Christmas" cross-bred with "Finding Nemo," "Rango" would almost certainly be among the offspring.
Oddly, in none of those thirds can you say that "Rango" is particularly funny. Sure, there are the requisite cute moments, but the photorealism of the creatures, and the intensity with which some of them are depicted, make drawing out a sustained chuckle a bit of an arduous task. "Rango's" dark theme isn't helped by moments where one wishes for the pace to accelerate - there's only so much computer-textured chameleon introspection you can tolerate in one movie before you start wondering, "okay, what's next?"
"Rango" isn't a bad movie, but it isn't especially good, either. Dragging at times, bizarre at others, when it finally ends you catch yourself leaving the theater with one uniform conclusion:
That was one odd movie. Then again, with Johnny Depp in the lead, could one expect anything else?
Monsters vs. Aliens (2009)
Spotty, uneven story leaves Monsters vs Aliens wanting
Okay, admit it; at some point, you've bought something based solely on how cool it looked on a commercial or ad, only to find out your diamond-in-the-rough purchase turned out to be a papier-mache disappointment.
That's the disappointing truth that is Dreamworks' "Monsters vs Aliens," Paramount's heavily hyped 3-D big screen adventuretoon that bears only a fractious resemblance to its title. And one would be well-advised to save your popcorn money and don't make the special effort to seek out a 3-D theater. In this offering, the net "dimension" is ultimately forgettable.
If you go into the theater expecting the movie advertised on countless TV spots and trailers, you'll be sorely disappointed, and the disappointment highlights Dreamworks' lost opportunity. Where the title suggests the possibility of a delightfully inventive story between legion carton monsters and otherworldly counterparts, it delivers a decidedly uneven montage of a story that bounces between outer space, suburbia, San Francisco, and a bizarre-but-explained-away military encampment. "M vs A" suffers the same identity problem as so many other similarly fractious films; poor execution from a poorly conceived story. The saddest part of all is that the clear potential of the film lay squarely in what its title promised, contrasted against what its creators ultimately delivered.
Although there are some cute bug-eyed monsters, with Seth Rogen's cycloptic Bob clearly the comedy star among them, they are relegated to background characters in the ultimate conflict around which the movie is drawn. Even the ultimate bad-guy alien isn't ultimately much of a character; he's merely a strawman bad guy for the hero (make that heroine) to battle. In the end, "Monsters vs Aliens" isn't about either; it reduces to a tired girl-power story that's been told better in Disney TV outings like "Kim Possible." "Monster vs Aliens" is not without its comic moments, but only in one-shot jokes, not from an underlying comedic theme that a strong film should aspire to provide. At our screening, the audience was quiet for conspicuously long spells between laughs. Moreover, the Dreamworks animation team still plays second-fiddle to the Disney-Pixar gold-standard, with lapses in continuity including sequences where it seemed some characters failed to maintain consistent size and proportion within the confines of their animated environment.
Unfortunately, the story suffers from the same problem - loss of continuity. There's at least one stretch early in the movie where one begins to ask if the projectionist accidentally switched to a different feature due to the sudden, lengthy, and tedious departure from the basic story. Sadly, the departure became the basis for the bulk of the rest of the film, while providing almost none of the laughs.
To be sure, there are sufficient moments for the kids to get their due share of giggles, but the 3-D moments are ultimately a why-bother. Sadly, much can be said of the rest of the movie. Ultimately, animation and 3-D tricks can't conceal the fundamental sin of a poorly conceived story.
If only "Monsters vs Aliens" had delivered a story representing even a pale shadow of its title.....if only...
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2008)
An "Indy" movie in title only....
Story was that, when approached about joining the cast for this 4th Indiana Jones installment, Sean Connery said "no" presumably due to his retirement.
After watching "Kingdom of the Crystal Skull," I think Connery was being polite.
Tortured by uneven pacing, a patently ridiculous story, a laughably bad Russian accent by Kate Blanchett, and an underlying sense that the ensemble is together more for the sake of sentimentality than production, "Skull" is a movie that diminishes the legacy of the original Indiana Jones trilogy and hopefully guarantees there won't be a fifth.
We can only hope.
"Skull" represents a papier-mache shell of the original Indy franchise, turning Ford's character into a caricature of itself, thinner than the celluloid on which this offering is filmed. Even Ford himself seems to be going through the motions at times, delivering forced humor, playing a strawman character that only incidentally happens to be sporting a whip and wearing a fedora. At one point, Indy bemoans the "loss" of his friend Marcus (played by the late Denholm Elliot) and his dad, and you can't help but wonder if he isn't really bemoaning the lack of a relevant part for himself just as much.
And that, more than anything else, is the core problem with "Skull." Indiana Jones isn't essential to this movie. Any one-dimensional comic book hero could have been plugged into this script and played the same part with almost no change to the film's core story. In "Raiders," Jones core irascibility made him the only man who could simultaneously fight the Nazis and claim the Ark; in Skull, he's just someone who occasionally cracks a whip and smirks knowingly. The subtle magic that distinguishes the movie as being a true volume in the Indy saga is simply nonexistent.
If you believe much of the Internet banter about this movie, you know it took years for story and schedules to merge in a way that allowed a fourth Indiana Jones movie to become reality. Ford is twenty years removed from his Jones heyday, but still a screen icon arguably redefining his own roles in later years as Connery did his; and no matter what genius may be behind the story, genius can't be brought to bear on a whim. Ultimately, "Skull" plays like the worst result of those variables, an offering thrown together by the relevant players while there was still time to make a relevant "Indy" movie, with many of the cast just going through the motions. It makes one wonder how the likes of a Steven Spielberg could mishandle the franchise so badly.
When the previous Jones movie ended, our heroes were allowed the outlandish send off of literally riding off into the sunset, and the outlandishness befit the story. Sadly, "Skull" translates that image into a crashing head-scratch of "what was that?" What a pity.
Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979)
A grand effort with an apoplectic ending
Imagine you're going to your high school's 20th reunion, and you find out an old flame is going to be there. You remember the idealized image, then find yourself awkwardly confused to find the latter-day reality not matching your lofty expectations.
That's the impossible task of Star Trek: The Motion Picture, Paramount's hit-and-miss epic effort to leverage 70's Star Wars mania into a resurrection of the popular 60's era science fiction show about the Starship Enterprise and her crew.
The unrealistic expectations given ST:TMP almost derail the film before the first frame is photographed, yet Paramount's confused production direction and assumption that Trek's TV genetics will naturally migrate to the big screen make the effort a nearly impossible task. Yet, even given the obstacles and production hassles, ST:TMP still carves out its own brand of success. Jerry Goldsmith's legendary score stands out as one of the most memorable in film history, narrowly losing an Oscar for Best Original Score. Doug Trumbull stitched together a last-minute effects package after director Robert Wise realized late in production that most of the completed effects produced by Robert Abel's Apogee were unusable.
The film's lethargic style is somewhat improved in the much-acclaimed Director's Cut, wherein Robert Wise was allowed to give the film a final edit not afforded due to the film's shortened production schedule arising from its guaranteed release date back in December 1979. The cut's new visual effects work to transition previously awkward story arcs, but can't entirely solve the at times ponderously over-told story of an alien probe in pursuit of earth.
Claustrophobic performances by William Shatner et al seem all too conscious of and intimidated by the movie's grand scale, with each character working too hard to create dramatic ennui with each line. The results, at times, seem like heavy-handed direction. ONly as the film nears its end do we begin to see the "regular" Trek personalities emerge - but by then, the movie's almost over. Wise's Director Cut cleans up many of these dialogue transitions and weaknesses, and does help the film's narrative momentum about as much as could reasonably be expected, without the benefit of pickup shots or voiceovers as might be part of a final edit.
TMP's lethargic style, whether in original release or Director's Cut revision, is not helped by a somnambulent design for the Enterprise's refit interiors, which seem to wander between varying shades of grays and blues. Unfortunately, the same colors were chosen for many of the crew uniforms, which turn the bland into the downright boring. Its worth noting that crew uniforms were completely redesigned prior to the 1982 sequel, The Wrath of Khan.
TMP aspires to tell a story of human introspection, but tries to force an epic ambiance into a story that cannot support it. The end, one in which the villain alien simply disappears in an array of light and Trek doublespeak, leaves the viewer wondering "Is that all?" Rather than trusting Trek's principals to execute the kind of story that made the notion of a Trek rebirth worthwhile, the effects-heavy realization that did, at times, achieve fleeting moments of "wow," cannot be termed in the broader view as anything other than disappointing - not so much for its own failings, but for what might have been. Yet, despite critical shortcomings, TMP was successful enough to justify a string of sequels and, later, a suite of new TV series. That, alone, might be just enough to call it a success after all...
Evening (2007)
Tedious, maudlin, and overwrought
Movies dealing with death in flashback are becoming a genre unto themselves, and one might expect an effort involving powerhouse names such as Meryl Streep, Vanessa Redgrave, and Glenn Close would produce a gold standard for the class. But "Evening" is a success only in part, weighed down too heavily by its own maudlin introspections and an unwieldy confluence of current-day and flashback moments. The result is an uneven and unsatisfying mix that, worst of all, runs about 30 minutes longer than necessary.
"Evening," to be sure, is a wonderfully photographed effort, but the photography cannot overcome a fractious screenplay that can't decide if it wants to tell a retrospective tale about an ending life, or an introspective tale about the impact that life had on her children. The result is that neither tale is told particularly well. As the story edges ever more tediously to its end, we find that Glenn Close is almost entirely wasted, that Meryl Streep has only one meaningful scene that is so awkwardly directed and - again - tediously executed that the viewer is left begging for a timely resolution that, in all honesty, never really comes.
"Evening" is a work that could have lived the potential held by its cast if its story had held the same potential. As it ends, it is only another average entry in an expanding genre.
-intrepid6
The Sum of All Fears (2002)
The Clancy series is dead.
It is, at best, disheartening to see a movie franchise so thoroughly spoiled as the Clancy/Jack Ryan once-diamond-in-the-rough series, now turned into fool's gold with bad direction, bad adaptation, and a myopically teenage star. Combine that with a goofy Wargames-like ending that just leaves you shaking your head, and you've written your own summary (or is that obituary?) for "Sum of All Fears." "Fears" was an obvious and failed attempt to resuscitate the blockbuster franchise started with the Alec Baldwin megahit, "The Hunt For Red October." Correctly departing from the misguided effort to bring Harrison Ford into Ryan's role when Baldwin opted out, producers swung too far the opposite direction with Ben Affleck. Affleck's youthful appearance is likely more in keeping with the intended nature of the Ryan character, but Affleck comes off more as a ditzy wannabe rather than a CIA protégé.
"Fears" carries with it not one-tenth the intrigue of its written counterpart, and not even half the credibility of "Red October." Its mock intrigue truly is nothing more than a phony Hollywood ending, one that reduces Ryan to Matthew Broderick in doubletalking the computer into self-destructing at the end of Wargames.
Worse still is the sellout to political correctness in "Fears," wherein the book tells a story of all-too-relevant political intrigue that is replaced by a plainly fractious substory about Russian racial and ethnic stereotypes. Ahh, the comfort of warm milk before bedtime.
This movie well deserves to put an end to the Clancy series, never to reclaim its "October" glory. And for the lost potential, moviegoers everywhere are the end-game losers.
-intrepid
Cheaper by the Dozen 2 (2005)
A successful, low-key, family-friendly sequel
If you're not into emotional monkeys or geishan biographies, you may find yourself pleasantly surprised by Steve Martin's "Cheaper By The Dozen 2." And if you go in expecting a frenetic replay of the original, you'll be equally surprised; "Cheaper 2" is slower-paced than its predecessor, and actually tries to inject some introspection into the life of the Baker family, contemplating how the Baker parents react to their aging kids and their evolving role as parents.
Make no mistake; there's still plenty of physical comedy, Steve Martin is eminently predictable, and "Cheaper 2" won't make any Oscar lists. By the same token, however, that's not all bad. This is a movie that's not only funny, but has touching and thoughtful moments as well.
Eugene Levy, a seemingly inescapable fixture in Steve Martin's films, pulls yeoman service as Jimmy Mertaugh, Tom Baker's family antagonist, with his hard-line parental tactics and seemingly perfect family and endless financial resources in contrast to Baker's freewheeling leadership, fractious kids, and frugal economic choices. The story predictably forces both parents to study their own styles as the film evolves, yet fans of the original movie will appreciate how the keeper of the "dark gift" from the predecessor becomes a central figure in this movie in a decidedly different and affectionate way.
Bonnie Hunt looks absolutely wonderful in "Cheaper 2," but has much less to do than in the original. The most drastic physical changes surely belong to Hilary Duff, and those changes are decidedly *not* for the better. Harshly lit, a painfully thinner Duff appears almost sickly with sunken cheeks (presumably driven from weight loss) and almost disfigured with her porcelain-remade - and poorly proportioned - new teeth. Add to that a wardrobe so trashy not even Brittany Spears would claim it, and you have the single biggest blot on this otherwise pleasant family film.
If you go into "Cheaper 2" expecting Citizen Kane or Casablanca, you'll be disappointed. But if you go in hoping to find an enjoyable, family-friendly comedy that'll find you leaving the theater with a smile, "Cheaper 2" is a winner.
The Andromeda Strain (1971)
Flashy, grand production, with uneven buildup to riveting end
Some movies that might otherwise be destined for greatness weaken under the weight of overproduction, and such is all too much the case for Robert Wise's "Andromeda Strain," a well-crafted but often lethargic documentary-style drama about a fictional American germ warfare accident.
"Andromeda Strain" leverages the inherent mistrust of "the government" characteristic of the late-60's, early 70's Vietnam era with the exposition of Michael Crichton's story about a secret government project to research and possibly cultivate germ-based weapons in a phenomenally believable, yet sci-fi slick, secret lab in the Nevada desert named "Wildfire," teasing the viewer's imagination to inquire whether the lab is part of the perpetually mysterious "Area 51."
"Strain" begins as a precision documentary-style flashback of the events following the return of a mysterious space satellite to Earth, and sudden, horrific death of an entire New Mexico town thereafter. It then migrates unevenly to a sometimes tedious field trip of medical forensics as a group of top scientists are unceremoniously "drafted" into service at "Wildfire" to research and neutralize the newfound germ.
But the undercurrent of intrigue in the unholy alliance between medicine and the military is stemmed by the overarching focus on the underground "Wildfire" lab. After early, eerie prologue in the New Mexico desert lays the groundwork for a complex story of secret military operations, "Strain" changes. The Wildfire sets, which cost millions to build, necessarily command most of the remaining screen time. The astonishingly authentic sets, right down to glove-box rooms, scanning electron microscopes, and computer-managed cameras are executed so well that one might be tempted to ask if Wildfire actually exists out there in the Nevada desert. But the preoccupation with the rules, sanitation, and protocols of Wildfire turn the movie from its documentary roots to one in which Wildfire itself becomes the central character, eclipsing the generally fine performances of its human castmates and serving as the central antagonist at the film's climax.
To be sure, Robert Wise has crafted a technically masterful piece, and his devotion to grand photography and epic shot composition is evident in the treatment of Wildfire's circular corridors, stark coloring, and implicit immensity. Yet that same devotion, combined with perhaps a bit too much medical reality, makes the film lag at times, and only those fine human performances carry the nearly music-free production to the point that we still care enough at the end to stick around for one of filmdom's most riveting end scenes. And that end sequence is worth the wait all by itself.
Make no mistake; this is a grandly produced and more than watchable combination of still-contemporary governmental cynicism and science fiction thriller. If you don't mind wading through a few dry spots during the film's 130 minutes, "Strain" is a winner; but with the complex elements of intrigue and governmental/moral self-contemplation underlying its story restrained by the scientific, one can't help but imagine it could have been much, much more.
Moonraker (1979)
Drive this Moonraker *into* the Moon.
There is perhaps no more telling a sign for the sheer awfulness of a film when critics start telling you that it isn't as bad as you "might have heard." So it is with "Moonraker," a shamelessly Star Wars-influenced reconception of an Ian Fleming short story by the same name that richly deserves its relegation to the low end of the Bond pecking order.
Moonraker pivots on the supposedly accidental destruction of an American space shuttle, inexplicably "on loan" to the British government (which is incapable of launching them, so why do they want one?). When prying eyes reveal the shuttle was stolen by its maker (in a manner factually impossible by virtue of the shuttle's design) as part of a broader plot, only James Bond can save the day. Too bad he couldn't save the whole movie.
To be sure, Moonraker carries with it all the requisite elements of a Bond feature; a megalomaniacal villain (the dreadful Hugo Drax), the spectre of world destruction (purging humanity for a perfect race), and the only women on the planet named for the sake of double-entendre (Lois Chiles as Dr. Holly Goodhead). Yet when the lead villain's beard is more interesting than any of his dialog (Drax best line is "Can I interest you in a cucumber sandwich, Mr. Bond", and *that* gets repeated), Houston doesn't have to be told that "we have a problem." Hugo Drax is arguably the least intriguing villain of any Bond movie, and when he meets his inevitable demise, we breathe a sigh of relief not for the safety of Bond's earth, but for the notion that this silly space epic is crawling ever closer to its merciful conclusion.
It's standard procedure to suspend your disbelief for any Bond film, but this one asks you to send it into a space vacuum. Beyond the sheer silliness of one man reposed with the manufacture of something the scope of a space shuttle is the notion that he would even need to steal them for his own malevolent purposes. Add to that the myriad ways Moonraker simply ignores the way the American space shuttle actually works, and you clearly have a movie stitched together like granny's quilt rather than one born of a sound screenplay.
To be fair, Moonraker does hold serve in the tradition of wonderfully photographed and scored Bond films, and the in-space sequences are supported by some of the better special effects given the era of Moonraker's production. But it's not fair to expect these technical elements to carry an entire film, and they don't. For a spy adventure franchise that has given us movies as grand as Thunderball, as tense as For Your Eyes Only, and as politically relevant as Octopussy, Moonraker deservedly stands as a decided dud.
Band of Brothers (2001)
There was a price paid. And we must honor their sacrifice.
How do we perpetuate the honor, the memory, and the lesson of the nameless and faceless thousands that fought and died for their country during World War II? To document WWII as mere history is to marginalize it as merely another fact on an eventual high school exam. To merely acknowledge that it was war merely because war is a terrible thing is to ignore its consequence, and its undeniable relevance to the lives of everyone that followed them.
To confer the proper deference to the death and honor of those uncounted soldiers, we must integrate into our souls the reality of living as their beneficiaries at the expense of their lives. While there is no absolute way to understand the cost of World War II, we can experience the barest shadow of its reality by seeing it through the eyes of those who fought it, who lived through it, who saw death on an unimaginable scale during it, and preserved a free world as a result. That shadow is a magnificent humility captured in a simply brilliant HBO miniseries, "Band of Brothers." "Brothers" sheds the narcissism of the television camera to bring you face-to-face with the dramatized-yet-real faces of the men of Easy Company, one of hundreds of American and allied forces to invade Europe in an effort to stem Nazi Germany's military machine. "Brothers" compels the viewer to see World War II on a personal level unmatched by virtually any other war production. You see not glorified geniuses of war, but hardened, otherwise average men, fearless and fearful, heroic and imperfect, lucky and unlucky, thrown into an incomprehensible maelstrom of war and savagery. They emerge not merely as a force that won a war, but one that established the foundation on which a generation's freedom was built, and through which the unspeakable savagery exacted on a race was exposed.
"Band of Brothers" isn't for the fainthearted. It offers an unapologetically graphic and frank depiction of war and the men who fight it, bringing home in a vivid and undeniable way. From the simplicity of the training centers to the brutality of near-abandonment in the forests of Bastogne under German siege, "Brothers" offers a lesson that should be mandatory for the eyes, hearts, and minds of those too young to know of World War II as anything other than an historical event, such that some measure of the price of freedom and the cost of tyranny can be interwoven into the souls of those who watch it.
To say "Band of Brothers" is merely extraordinary is to diminish its sheer greatness not merely as a work of television, but as a demonstration of freedom's 20th-century turning point.
To appreciate your freedom, and understand in an inherently deficient way its benefactors, "Band of Brothers" is simply not to be missed.
-David
Mona Lisa Smile (2003)
Dead Poets for Girls, just not as good...
* There are no *specific* spoilers, but some *conceptual* notions that might be considered spoilers* Julia Roberts finds herself at a perplexing crossroads in her career. She's edging beyond the era of the "Pretty Woman" roles, yet hardly ready for the role of matron. "Mona Lisa Smile," where she plays a college instructor heading to the conservative east coast, seems the perfect vehicle for Roberts to make a transition; unfortunately, the result is a bumpy ride in which Roberts herself seems decidedly uncomfortable, and one that becomes only a faint reflection of its opposite-gender inspiration, "Dead Poets Society." Roberts plays Katherine Watson, a liberal-minded west-coast art teacher who finds herself with the opportunity to take over a similar position at Wellesley College, an ultraconservative women's college in 1953. Watson arrives, hoping to "make a difference" in the lives of some of the smartest women in the country by extending the notion of "traditional" attitudes about art to attitudes about life, and the life of women in particular.
Roberts seems oddly intimidated by a role in which she is overtaken by a strong ensemble of classmates (including Maggie Gyllenhaal, Kirsten Dunst, and Julia Stiles), a powerfully dislikeable school administrator, and even the "house mother" at her instructor's dorm, played by Marcia Gay Harden. She seems at ease only in the film's lone romantic scene with her, as she lounges lazily in front of a fireplace with her long hair flowing down her face.
Kirsten Dunst as Betty Warren, spoiled and naive daughter of a Wellseley board member, is the antagonist, the lightning rod for convention and propriety, and wields a pen as her weapon against Watson's enlightened west-coast intrusions. We ultimately see her poison pen serve as foreshadowing of her own anger at the unraveling of her own presumably idyllic life in light of the uncapped potential of her peers. By film's end, she has clearly grown and changed more than Roberts.
The film ends with an attempt at a grand sendoff of the rebellious instructor in keeping with Dead Poets Society's on-the-desk "Captain my Captain", but the characters are not drawn with sufficient depth to make us sympathetic with the loss of their mentor, and the scene is only visually satisfying. If anything, we are more drawn to the strength of the relationships of the students to each other rather than the instructor. Where "Poets" drew Robin Williams character deep into the lives of his students, Watson's student relationship is manufactured at best, strained and intrusive at worst.
The film deserves unexpected credit for not casting itself as a unilateral message of contemporary feminism. It allows Watson, as the enlightened teacher, to offer her message of women's potential in non-traditional roles, yet also allows one of her students to assert the right to choose that traditional role without condescension.
It would be too harsh to cast the film as a failure. It is a decently written story, if too thin - always a risk with a story laden with numerous central characters, but often a masterpiece if done right, as in Dead Poets. "Smile" is wonderfully photographed in the picturesque northeast, and Roberts' supporting cast is arguably the very strength of the film. But for an actress who has made a career out of stealing scenes with a calculated glaze, wilting in the shadow of her co-stars is characterized as nothing but a below-par performance. "Smile" ends up being a "Dead Poets" for suffragettes, but just not done nearly as well.
And that's a shame.
The Shawshank Redemption (1994)
Robust, majestic film-making makes Shawshank an all-timer
Sometimes the rarest of gems emerges from the most unlikely places, and in the most unlikely environments. Who might expect a sterling cinematic diamond in the rough set in a fictional Maine prison, and derived from a Stephen King short story?
Shawshank is a sweeping tale of friendship, hope, innocence, naivete, brutality, injustice, and vindication, wrapping you in the paradoxical warmth of the prison walls that surround the sympathetic characters who captivate our attention while telling their story.
The theme of Shawshank is well known; Andy Dufresne, a Maine banker, is wrongfully accused of murdering his wife after finding her in a compromising relationship with the golf pro of a local country club. The next 18 years of Andy's life depict the spectrum of the human experience, as we realize Andy's tale of prison life is an allegory for anyone whose life is constrained by imprisonment, whether socially corrective or mentally imposed.
The friendship between Red and Andy carries almost a religious air; in comes Dufrense preaching a gospel of hope to those very nearly deprived of it in their "institutionalized" setting. The danger of an alternate future, and the risks associated with exploring it, magnify the strength of the hope Andy conveys to his prison peers.
Andy's precision-strike vindication against the Warden at the film's conclusion makes his character the Superman to this gang of inmates, exposing the corruption and power-brokering that turned Shawshank from a correctional institution into a dismal penal colony.
This is not a sanitized representation of prison life; the worst kinds of behavior you might know of from prison legends are depicted here. And in the end, it makes you realize that perhaps hope is appreciated most in a place where it seems the least appropriate. If a prisoner can maintain hope in a prison cell, then surely we can, too.
The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement (2004)
Classy fairy tale continues...
When it seems that no pop diva need apply for stardom without Brittney Spears trashiness or hip-gyrating, entendre-laden crassness, somehow a movie with neither sleaze, violence, nor profanity manages to make it through the cracks. So it is with "Pricess Diaries 2: A Royal Engagment" - a movie that is a bit of its own "crowning" achievement in today's film world.
Never mind that the premise of the movie is a make-no-mistake fairy tale, and one too many recitations of the Genovian national anthem begins to push the limit. Those simple sins can be forgiven a movie with a trendy twist on the "girl power" theme without turning the flick into a schoolmarm lecture on political correctness and women's rights.
In Princess Diaries II, the charming yet wonderfully fallible Anne Hathaway reprises the role of our favorite Princess Mia, while Julie Andrews reminds us of what a classic screen presence can still mean to a film. In this story, five years removed from its predecessor, we find the Princess in sight of the throne herself, but threatened by a scheming John Rhys Davies (who looks astonishingly frail). Hathaway combines the rare mixture of natural beauty with a confident screen presence that allows comfort in either monologue or slapstick, moving easily from confident beauty to joyous, clumsy, vulnerable young woman. Julie Andrews is, well, Julie Andrews.
To explain just how the contemporary positive message of female independence is conveyed to the young girls in the audience in the midst of gowns, glamor, and glitz would be to divulge the greatest breadth of the film. Suffice it to say that a girl's greatest friend can be her own sense of confident self.
Garry Marshall adds his own inimitable touches to the film. Hector Elizondo (of Pretty Woman fame as the hotel manager) is his always-cool self in the role of the Queen's security advisor, and Larry Miller (also of Pretty Woman as the shoe salesman). Watch also for a dandy throwback to Pretty Woman early in the film with one of the palace guards, and the truly observant will catch a reference to "Laverne and Shirley," the 70's TV show starring Marshall's sister Penny.
This is an engaging, stylish, classy film that you don't have to fear your kids seeing. Garry Marshall has created a wonderful franchise that proves you don't have to make trash to make a fun and enjoyable family film, and that it's still OK to let the good guys live happily ever after as the credits roll.
Looney Tunes: Back in Action (2003)
Wonderful, nostalgic fun!
If you've ever laughed at Bugs Bunny, if you know what the term "pronoun trouble" means, if you know that ACME exists to provide items of self-torture to Wile E Coyote, then "Looney Tunes - Back In Action" is something you must not miss.
Joe Dante has created a delightfully nostalgic and affectionate reunion of the greatest "golden era" Warner Brothers cartoon stars in a high-spirited action adventure that borrows from the trendy mix of interactive live action and animation yet remains true to the soul behind Bugs, Daffy, and Elmer.
Adults who grew up with the Looney Tunes will be engaged by the endless run of in-jokes, some of which all too pointedly demonstrate how the comedy embraced in the loving spirit of those classic cartoon characters could never be reproduced in today's politically correct environment. Kids will be captured by the seemingly endless action and cartoon slapstick, with Daffy and Bugs naturally taking the lion's share of the fun.
Although Bugs and Daffy lead the way, Dante has managed to provide a juicy tidbit for virtually every major Tunes character of the era. Even more striking are the voices giving life to the characters, which are arguably the best offered for a classic Warner Brothers character production since Mel Blanc's passing.
The best part of "Action" is in the way it *doesn't* try to break technical ground by waving its hands around the interaction of live-action and animated characters. The characters simply interact, and the story flows around it. Jenna Elfman leads as a studio head gone mad when she fires Daffy Duck, while Steve Martin is over the top as the Chairman of the evil Acme, Inc., and Timothy Dalton parodies his Bond past as "Damien Drake," the lead in a spy movie franchise (Bond fans should take note of the hacked 007 movie titles in Dalton's house). The story, of course, is secondary to the characters, but serves those characters fabulously as Daffy trips into his own super-spy adventure that finds "evil" Steve Martin as the head of ACME trying to turn the world into monkeys to buy its defective products.
"Action" may never win an Oscar, but it will thrill the kids for its contemporary fun and engage the adults in a delightful throwback to a classic cartoon era.