rjyelverton Reviews

Gamer (2009)

Criticizing violence while reveling in it

[5/10 · 8 September 2009]

"Gamer" employs a fence-sitting plot of many exploitation films that both bemoans dehumanizing violence and revels in it. In the future, we force our death row inmates to participate in violent games in order to entertain us and possibly secure their freedom. Director(s) Neveldine/Taylor ("Crank" and "Crank: High Voltage") like so many exploitation filmmakers before them reveal the inherent evil of the system by focusing their film on a noble participant (Gerard Butler) wrongly accused and framed by the system. So maybe letting death row inmates kill each other isn't so bad--look at all the neat explosions and kill shots--but it's certainly bad in the instances when it snags a hero and a family man. We don't need a more humane outlook on justice. Just better quality control.

But the co-directors do add an interesting, if unpleasant, wrinkle in the film's subplot which follows the hero's wife and her participation in "The Sims"-like game Society. Society allows players to select a living, breathing avatar to exploit in whatever way they see fit--usually sexual escapades. Like the violent game in which the hero participates, the film both revels in the prurient results as well as criticizes them. These scenes, however, are so unsettling and vile--particularly the site of a nearly naked morbidly obese laughing at the pain he inflicts from afar--that the film seems to more successfully execute a critical position by making us sick to our stomachs. Engaging in the exploitation here makes the viewer queasy and more than a little guilty, sad.

The directors jettison their soapbox in the climax, however, which gives the villain his violent comeuppance while the whole world/movie-going audience watches and cheers. The message: Enjoying violence is okay as long as its victims are bad people. This moral is as old as the cave walls, but Neveldine/Taylor seem prepared to criticize this position by making a film that is so disturbing as to wake us to our willingness to dehumanize in the name of entertainment and the pursuit of justice. But they throw this all out the window in the end and reveal that the prurience was the point, an end unto itself, and what we're rewarded for the price of admission.

G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra (2009)

Film based on the exploits of plastic figures as good as expected

[4/10 · 11 August 2009]

Fans of the G.I. Joe cartoons, actions figures and playsets--the movie showcases a host of vehicles and exotic bases--will find nostalgic charm in "G.I. Joe: Rise of Cobra." The film is faithful to its source material right down to having the good guys shoot red lasers and the bad guys shoot blue lasers. This color coded anarchy is helpful during the manic on screen melees. It's no help when the two sword carrying ninjas face off. Why does the high tech, high body count, gun-toting Joe force need a ninja? Because the bad guys have a ninja, too. See: Cold war, arms race.

The faithfulness to source material also means the movie is incredibly stupid. This is Saturday morning plotting on a giant budget. The bad guys are insanely evil. The good guys are all basically the same character--this one's the black good guy, this one's the French good guy, this one's a girl. Appropriately, for a film based on plastic figures, Channing Tatum plays the lead. The whole enterprise might have been winningly stupid had Stephen Sommers ("The Mummy", "Van Helsing") cast someone else in the lead. Frequent Sommers' leading Brendan Fraser has a cameo in the film and one could imagine him successfully selling this frenetic mess as he has done before. He usually treats this kind of junk as comedy and brings us along for the ride. Tatum acts like he is starring in "Saving Private Ryan."

The film does feature a strong action scene at its center where the good guys try to stop the bad guys from destroying the Eiffel Tower. The music ramps up, the action is more clearly defined than at any other point in the film, and the movie sucks us in for about twenty minutes. After the fight, the movie immediately devolves into heavy handed French bashing that will be bliss for anyone who enjoyed diplomacy is for wusses message of "Transformers 2."

Here is yet another action movie trading in on and coasting on the nostalgia for plastic figures from our youth. It's a loud mess hopefully more indicative of the stupidity of summer than a dumbing down of the movies.

Walkabout (1971)

Tale of wilderness survival is essential viewing

[10/10 · 28 July 2009]

"Walkabout" is an often disorienting experience that offers the audience a bare amount of exposition. There is a violent unsettling act early in the story of wilderness survival that sets the story in motion, but is never explained. The question of why is important, but not knowing the answer is just as necessary and in not providing an answer director Nicolas Roeg is stretching our brain muscles and removing the safety netting. We start the movie disoriented, lost and this is a deliberate choice by its creator. "Walkabout" is a dangerous movie about seemingly irrational acts of violence and the violent and rational cycle of life played out in nature. It's also about man's uneasy relationship with the frequently violent natural world and how this relationship defines us.

Nicolas Roeg is a master craftsman who in this film is more comfortable conveying meaning through montage than filmed conversation. "Walkabout" opens with a dialogue-free tour of modern-day (circa 1960s) industrial Australia. Machines click clack, cars honk, and butchers slice with cold mechanical precision. Even the film's lead (played by Jenny Agutter and referred to as Girl in the credits) is trapped in a mechanical role as she and her classmates steadily drone and sputter in a classroom voice exercise. The modern world is cold, angular, gray, impersonal. Contrast the cold grays of urban Australia with the brilliant rust-colored sands of the film's wild outback setting. These are two vastly different worlds and successfully moving from one to another proves impossible for everyone in the movie.

The film's simple story finds actress Jenny Agutter and the director's young son Luc Roeg abandoned in the Australian outback and details their attempt to survive. During their journey they meet a helpful Aboriginal teenager on his walkabout, a rite of passage where a young man is left to the wilderness to survive on his own. A nagging question tugs at us throughout the film as we wonder if the Aboriginal teen is irreparably harming his quest as he becomes more involved in the lives of the two city dwellers. As the trio wanders through the wilderness, the children, who arrived in the outback in formal school uniforms, slowly shed their outfits as they begin to adapt to the natural world.

As mentioned, "Walkabout" is a story about violence and Roeg's film is filled with much violent efficiency as insects strip down carrion, rust reclaims abandoned mining outposts, men slaughter wildlife for sustenance and sport, and the native peoples of the outback pick over a burnt and abandoned automobile. Those who would claim "Walkabout" is a simplistic fable about returning to nature and living simply neglect how unforgiving the outback is in the film. It readily consumes anything that stands still. Life in the wilderness is short and brutal, but Roeg does seem to be saying that the trappings of modern life are noise that distracts us from our finite nature and inevitability that the land will one day reclaim us for its own.

The existence of the British interlopers is simplified as they focus on the essential concerns of finding food, water, and shelter. In an existence stripped down to essential needs, a sexual longing quickly develops between the Aboriginal teen and the girl he is shepherding through the wilderness. Roeg's treatment of this inevitability is frank, insistent, and sure to make many viewers ill at ease although it never seems forced or unnatural. This is a film about being guided by essential needs when removed from the concerns of modern existence. Roeg's frank examination of sexuality is more anthropological than titillating.

The film is finally beautifully elliptical. "Walkabout" is about cycles--renewal, destruction, repeat. The film is bookended by unsettling deaths the causes of which the movie does not explain, but which can be readily discerned by the attentive viewer. "Walkabout" works on a basic emotional level while viewing it, but then expands in significance after the film is turned off and reflected upon. "Walkabout" may be a hard film to love as it is deliberately disorienting and holds that life is brutal and short. But it is a film that is hard to not to appreciate as one peels back its layers after viewing. Most multiplex bon bons quickly pass from memory once we have stepped outside the theater, but "Walkabout" plants itself firmly in the brain and lives on long after the movie has ended.

A great work of art and essential viewing.

The Peanut Butter Solution (1985)

"The Peanut Butter Solution" is not for children you love. But for children you hate, it's perfect.

[4/10 · 25 July 2009]

I was recently able to engage in some radical immersion therapy this weekend wherein I confronted a childhood fear–creepy family film "The Peanut Butter Solution"–and came to grips with it's hold on my psyche. Ideally, I would find that this odd Canadian import was not nearly so bad as remembered and put to rest memories of a movie that has haunted me well into my adulthood.

It didn't quite work out that way… …as this movie is actually still horrifying. The film, second in the still running Tales for All series from Canadian studio Les Productions la Fête, features a child predator who harvests hair to make magic paintbrushes in a warehouse/sweatshop filled with abducted children. The movie also includes a delightful scene of a child being mauled by dogs.

The titular magical hair growing solution is used by one child on his nether regions leading to some really skeevy results. "Solution" stars Michael Hogan (Col. Saul Tigh in "Battlestar Galactica") as one of the world's worst screen fathers and features several early pop numbers from Celine Dion.

The tone of "The Peanut Butter Solution" is intentionally unsettling and the storytelling follows nightmare logic. Michael Baskin, a high strung 11 year old prone to screaming fits, loses all his hair after being frightened by some unseen bogeyman discovered in the remains of a burnt down house. In the home at the time of the fire are two "winos" who were burned to death and now administer sinister taunts to Baskin from the great beyond. The two ghosts give Michael a solution to his hair problem–a potion recipe consisting of dead flies, rotten eggs, and peanut butter.

Michael adds too much peanut butter to the potion, resulting in his hair growing uncontrollably. This makes him the target of the Signor, a child predator and high strung recently fired school teacher, who charms Michael and twenty other neighborhood children into the back of his van and off to his magical sweatshop. Michael is kept restrained in the sweatshop and fed nothing but yogurt. In the meantime, Col. Tigh–distraught at the disappearance of his son–screams and rips his art studio apart.

The film is further creepified by the fact that it holds true to the house style of its studio New World Pictures. New World brought us the first Hellraiser films, "Angel," "House," Nice Girls Don't Explode," and more 80s pay cable staples. New World films were made on a budget and employed a shooting style that washed out colors and muted light sources. The cheaper look of these movies worked to the favor of its horror films as the rough hewn production could be unsettling and off-putting, perfect for making viewers ill at ease. New World films frequently employed over amplified synth soundtracks which heighten the sense of dread. The use of these techniques in a children's film produces predictable results–fear and anxiety lasting well into your thirties.

Director Michael Rubbo is hindered by a shoestring budget which apparently didn't allow him to shoot any scene more than once. Siluk Saysanasy as Michael's best buddy and inappropriate user of peanut butter is simply dreadful. Michael Hogan is left stranded in this movie flailing around and like his screen son prone to unsettling screaming fits. Alison Podbrey, as Michael's sister Susie, does her best but unfortunately cut her acting teeth on this train wreck and elicited this pithy observation from IMDb commenter "tumbleweeds": "Not only is she butt ugly, she's one of those people who NEVER close their mouth. Leaves it hanging open like a retard. Makes me sick to look at her. I hope the woman who played her is dead now." Rewatching this movie, I was surprised that, while it no longer scared me, it still made me uneasy throughout. The jumpy editing, whimsy deficit, and sense of doom that permeates the film make it hard to believe Rubbo was actually making a children's film. The filmmakers seem to realize what a horrific gift they've bestowed upon children by trying to wrap everything up with a cheerful finale completely different in tone than the rest of the movie. Michael's previously unstable artist father saves the day and his mother–who the film hints early on abandoned her freak show of a family–returns home with hugs and kisses.

"The Peanut Butter Solution" is not for children you love. But for children you hate, it's perfect.

Those curious to see the film in its entirety can do so at Google Videos.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (2009)

Solid production that I'll never watch again

[6/10 · 25 July 2009]

The plot of "Half Blood Prince" could fit on a cocktail napkin. Harry returns to Hogwarts, does some more coming of age, and tries to avert an evil plot by the forces of darkness. Like the Potter films before it, the production is competent, but leaves me with no desire to ever see it again. Having read the books, the films feel like visual Cliffs Notes with the only surprise being how the cast and crew interpret the material.

Director Yates, who helmed the previous Potter installment, gives us the gloomiest film yet. The thin material gives him a chance to show off including a wonderful CGI-enabled tracking shot that moves across the windows of Hogwarts from a scene of young Ron in love to a pensive Draco staring out hopelessly to a shot of dawn breaking over Hogwarts. Jim Broadbent as the name-dropping Professor Slughorn delivers his usual strong work and gives the film a humane center in the midst of the exposition heavy script and CGI-wizardry.

Hard Boiled (1992)

Wild gore-filled ride

[8/10 · 13 July 2009]

There is no subtlety whatsoever to John Woo's "Hard Boiled" the follow-up to his action melodrama "The Killer." "Hard Boiled" strips away much of the previous film's labored sentiment and replaces it with insane action set-pieces involving babies in peril, motorcycles exploding in midair, and hundreds of thugs and cops flying through glass windows. So many glass windows. Yet "Hard Boiled" is also insanely fun in its ludicrousness. There is not one shred of realism in this go for broke, surprisingly gory, action extravaganza, and we are thankfully spared much of Woo's heavy handed take on the duality of man, nature of evil, and spiritual concerns. There are also blessedly no doves whatsoever in this film. Woo's films are better when he keeps his rote, superficial philosophizing to a minimum and lets his flair for berserko action take center stage.

The plot is simple if not always coherent. Rogue super cop Tequila (Chow Yun-Fat) is out to avenge the death of his partner at the hands of Triad gun smugglers. While gunning down mob thugs, Tequila comes face-to-face with an undercover cop, played by Tony Leung, who is continually forced to compromise his own values in order to remain undercover. In Leung, Woo is able to examine his favorite theme of man being neither completely good nor wholly evil, but unlike in "The Killer," "Hard Boiled" doesn't dwell on this theme interminably and the film is the film is stronger for it.

John Woo, a Christian, displays substantial gore in this film with many highly stylized shots of arteries being severed followed by blood splattering onto faces, glass windows, and white walls. The heroes and villains also possess an insane tendency to create mayhem in the midst of crowded restaurants and hospitals where innocent bystanders are picked off quickly and by the hundreds. Had the film been a mainstream US release, its gory action scenes would have assuredly caught the attention of congress persons displaying election year "what about the children" concerns about media violence. The berserk violence of "Hard Boiled" is not an afterthought, though. It is, instead, the point of the whole bloody exercise. Remove the film's stylized bloodletting and it would lose its pulse.

Maybe it says something about this viewer that Woo's restrained by comparison and morally concerned "The Killer" came off as lackluster, while the more bloody, less talky cut to the chase "Hard Boiled" struck me as a wildly successful genre exercise. "The Killer" had a classical tragic story arc while the story of "Hard Boiled" is mostly a device to deliver mayhem. But "The Killer" was frequently heavy handed and Woo spends much of his film developing his hero's thin personalities. Character development does not play to Woo's strengths. He is at his best when choreographing death and destruction.

Woo makes several appearances in "Hard Boiled" as the owner of The Jazz Bar where Tequila plays tenor sax after hours. He is the film's moral voice and offers meta-commentary on the action, but never overstays his welcome. These are light mostly insubstantial moments that clue you in to the fact that "Hard Boiled" is more concerned with obliterating man than examining his soul.

Public Enemies (2009)

Digital video hobbles novel take on crime

[6/10 · 13 July 2009]

So it seems that Director Michael Mann has permanently graduated from the use of film to muddy, mundane digital video. And it's a shame. In collaboration with cinematographer Dante Spinotti ("L.A. Confidential"), Mann brought us the visually lush "Last of the Mohicans" and "Heat." Even the less epic Russell Crowe muckraking film "The Insider" had a sharp, compelling presentation. Digital video (DV) is considerably cheaper which undoubtedly gives the director more control over the film. (Keep your film under budget and studios are more apt to stay out of your way.) DV, however, is ugly. It's pretty bad at capturing rapid movement, making action scenes less intelligible. DV is also apt to let light overpower an image and it takes away the traditional visual crispness associated with the heightened reality of cinema.

Mann first used DV in the Tom Cruise/Jamie Foxx film "Collateral" and it lent that film veracity and a feeling of "being there." In his follow-up "Miami Vice," Mann's use of digital video underlined the vapidity of the source material rather than allowing Mann to revel in the film's glitzy, dangerous setting. The cinematography in "Public Enemies" is mostly tolerable, but it still hobbles the film. Take for instance a scene where John Dillinger, played by Johnny Depp declares his undying love for girlfriend Billie (Marion Cotillard) while at a sun drenched Miami race track. The camera raises dramatically for an overhead shot of the couple and the lush Elliot Goldenthal score kicks in and the moment fizzles. Digital video, at least as used by Mann, is incongruous with traditional dramatic cinema technique.

The film does offer a fascinating take on bank robber Dillinger. He lived his life in public and was a fascination of the press and public. He flaunted the law and seemed to live above it. J. Edgar Hoover, played by the always excellent Billy Crudup, decides to take down Dillinger in order to boost the credibility of the under fire FBI. Mann packs his film with a solid supporting cast and offers a unique take on the gangster story, but his visual technique never allows the film to take off. Some great performances; a forgettable film.

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen (2009)

Bay's world is an over-caffeinated, ugly place

[2/10 · 28 June 2009]

For sheer movie-going value, you can't beat Michael Bay, a director whose films are so bloated, busy, and full of heroic imagery that you get an entire summer's worth of blockbusters in one sitting. But just like eating a large bag of Doritos eventually leads to regret and self loathing, sitting through an entire Bay film brings on the hate and it's hard to live with yourself in the morning.

Where to start with this regrettable extension of the Transformers brand? Like the similarly incomprehensible Jerry Bruckheimer produced "Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest," "Revenge of the Fallen" is a globe-spanning bauble hunt involving shards of the All-Spark and the Matrix of Leadership all integral to the quest to cultivate much-needed Energon. With a script that is clearly an afterthought--a means to get us from Point A to Point B and to create an excuse for giant robots fighting--why make it all so complicated? All of these baubles have appeared in the Transformers mythology at one point or another, but does a franchise created solely to sell toys deserve slavish accuracy in its adaptation for the big screen? All that's gained is confusion and a few grins of recognition from devoted fanboys.

The Michael Bay aesthetic has not changed with his latest film. Every shot is a hero shot with a helicopter mounted camera view always preferable to a static close-up. In Michael Bay world there are no static close-ups. Every moment is as equally important as the next. There are no moments of reflection and calm before the action gears start turning once again. It's frankly exhausting and displays a profound lack of storytelling skill. His storytelling is further hobbled by his inability to establish visual geography. Visual geography allows a viewer to orient himself within the filmed space, understand the players involved and what's at stake. Bay just buys the largest fireworks display possible, lights it on fire and moves his camera from one point to another--never for longer than seven seconds.

"Revenge of the Fallen" also displays clumsy attempts at humor including dogs humping each other, robots humping humans, and robots with testicles. Every woman in the movie is either a super model or lunatic and the film trades in unnecessary stereotypes. The two worst offenders are the jive talking Skids and Mudflap who have gold teeth, monkey shaped faces, foul mouths, and can't read. Bay's world is an ugly, over caffeinated place.

The Killer (1989)

"The Killer" fails to engage

[6/10 · 21 June 2009]

I came to John Woo's "The Killer," a Hong Kong production, after having seen much of his American work including the sublime "Face/Off"--a film I love not in spite of it's insanity, but because of it--and the regrettable sci-fi action drudgery of "Paycheck." In my mind, "Face/Off" was the perfection of the Woo aesthetic--bullet ballet, good/evil versus evil/good, maudlin sentimentality, gun battles on the beach, gun battles in church, and doves. Lots of doves. Those films that came before it were warm-ups and those after were tired retreads.

But no proper consideration of Woo can be made without seeking out his most critically acclaimed works "The Killer." Those critics who came to "The Killer" in 1989 unfamiliar with the director's work were no doubt impressed by his unique action sensibility that lovingly frames bullet wound upon bullet wound as injured bodies fly through the air and through conveniently placed panes of glass. Surrounding the violence is a story that is unapologetically melodramatic acted out by classic types: the renegade cop, the hit man with a conscience and the wilting chanteuse who loves him. In "The Killer," she is blind, but is the only one who sees the good in him.

By 2009, Woo's style has been heavily imitated, parodied, and fully integrated into the American action movie aesthetic. "The Matrix" being a prime example. Watching "The Killer" now is not nearly as invigorating as it must have been to its initial audience. We can't help but see it in part as an artifact. Just as watching "Psycho" won't have today's seen-it-all jaded horror fan fainting in the theater, "The Killer" won't substantially impact those raised on Woo imitators. Woo has done himself no favors by endlessly recycling the same visual tricks in so many of his later films. The ill-placed doves in the climactic moments of "Paycheck" invited derisive howls.

"The Killer" is an exercise in style and as a result fails to engage on a basic human level. The endless parade of canon fodder who continue to fall in lovingly rendered scenes of carnage make no connection with the viewer. They are a means to a bloody end. They arrive in wave after wave never providing a substantial challenge to conscientious killer Ah Jong (Chow Yun-Fat) and arch-rival Inspector Li-Ying (Danny Lee). Jennie is forever helpless, always getting in Ah Jong's way, but providing him with the desire to go straight, a desire which proves problematic.

Ah Jong and Li-Ying are super human taking down wave after wave of machine gun-toting baddies and are only really challenged in the climax when the screenplay demands it. Is such a hero even interesting? When the hero is seemingly invulnerable what's to keep the audience worried and therefore invested in the film. John Woo does spend a fair amount of screen time exploring the fact that good and evil live in everyone and that a hero or villain can be both a good guy or bad guy, but the conversations that spell out this ideas are blunt, repetitive, and uninteresting.

The film does have a dynamite sequence, however, involving a political assassination that is tense and that concludes with a stand-off in a hospital emergency room where a little girl's life hangs in the balance. It's the film's high point and shows Woo at the height of his powers. There's greater economy in these moments. The action is tighter and there is no heavy handed dialogue to weigh it all down.

The Taking of Pelham 123 (2009)

"Pelham" is good enough thanks to Washington

[6/10 · 15 June 2009]

Your ability to enjoy "Pelham," Tony Scott's slight but serviceable thriller remake, depends on how much you can stand John Travolta hamming it up as The Villain. He's bad. Real bad. You can tell by the fact that he has evil facial hair and has a tendency to switch from gleefully ironic line readings to uncontrolled rage at a moment's notice. When Travolta plays villains he always appears to be having a ton of fun. Usually more fun than the audience. His "Pelham" baddie is almost tolerable and falls on the Travolta villain spectrum between "Battlefield Earth"--awful--and "Face/Off"--actually menacing.

He shares screen time with Denzel Washington as a somewhat paunchy transit worker forced into a hostage situation he would rather avoid. There are some great scenes in the early going when we get to see Washington behind his desk directing the many trains of the New York City subway system through the use of a giant electronic display. At one point he is referred to as maestro and it's a pleasure to see someone doing a complicated, demanding job well as he directs the cars steadily on their way. These scenes are important to the film and endear you to a character that gets satisfyingly more complicated as the film wears on.

Washington soon finds himself trying to negotiate on behalf of Travolta's subway hostages. The scenes at the train station are tight, interesting, and offer compelling character moments while Travolta's subway menace moments are flabby and rote. We are seeing two different films and Washington's is substantially more interesting. When the two films merge, the film speeds on to a violent climax that will not surprise any seasoned moviegoer. Tony Scott's direction is frequently distracting as his use of freeze frame and slow motion do little to heighten tension. Washington is enough of a force to keep the movie interesting and he keeps it chugging along.

Land of the Lost (2009)

"Land of the Lost" will prove goofy fun for some

[7/10 · 7 June 2009]

Can production design alone redeem a movie? The answer is no, otherwise an expansive day-glo fantasy oddball wonderland would have saved the execrable "Batman and Robin." But excellent, knowing production design, a commitment to an absurd sci-fi premise, and some low-key comic performances can and do make for a fun summer diversion. The design of the film honors the original hacky tacky look of the Sid and Marty Kroft series of the same name, but creates a whole world from it. The film's sets are kitschy, but not ironic. The movie honors the show's original bargain basement production values but on a blockbuster scale.

The film's script also hews closely to the off-wall premise of the "Land of the Lost" series, but streamlines the whole affair. The show always had some interesting ideas at play, but the pacing was glacial and unraveling its few mysteries took far too long. Here the inter-dimensional conflict between the primitive Sleestak and their more advanced Altrusian forefathers gets wrapped up in an hour and a half. With the help of the ape-man Cha-ka (Jorma Taccone), Dr. Rick Marshall (Will Ferell), Will (Danny McBride, "Eastbound and Down"), and Holly (Anna Friel, "Pushing Daisies") evade Grumpy the T-Rex and try to save mankind. Pulled into a world made up of creatures and landmarks culled from across time and space, Dr. Marshall and crew uncover a conspiracy to control the universe.

Those who haven't been fans of Ferrell or McBride in the past won't be won over by this film which essentially has them riffing on the same characters they play so well--pompous ass and crass simple kind a' man, respectively. But even as the two riff the whole absurd plot keeps turning giving the movie a lighter touch than the throw everything at the screen and see what sticks "Anchorman." "Land of the Lost" is too goofy and too committed to its unique aesthetic and storyline to have broad appeal. But there is enough visual inventiveness and oddball humor to entertain a certain type of moviegoer.

Up (2009)

"Up" is beautiful

[10/10 · 31 May 2009]

I have now seen "Up" twice in three days. On Friday night, per my usual movie-going routine, and today with both kids and wife in tow. I wanted to share this film with them and laugh and cry and delight with them. This movie is that good and people are soon gonna be spreading the gospel of "Up" bringing friends, family, neighbors to share this film with them. "Up" is a movie about things, big things, scary things, but it also features talking dogs so your whole family will be entertained. It's a blockbuster that respects the intelligence of the audience and continues to display Pixar's masterful storytelling economy. Watch any given Pixar film a few times and you'll be amazed at how almost each line of dialogue or dialogue-free image moves the story forward, works as foreshadowing, and underlines the film's themes.

"Up" is also beautiful. And painful. And exuberant. In its first fifteen minutes we experience most of the life of Carl Frederickson, husband of Ellie, balloon salesman, and dreamer. We see him go from quiet child to crotchety coot in a very short span and the speed with which his life passes is painfully swift. Carl and Ellie make grand plans, but life keeps getting in the way. Soon we are experiencing life alongside senior citizen Carl who decides to fulfill a childhood promise to his sweetheart Ellie and undertake a safari to South America.

Carl turns his home into a sky vessel in a beautiful scene that will have you grinning from ear to ear. As he sets off on his trip, he discovers stowaway Cub Scout Russell, an earnest young man with, like so many Pixar heroes before him, a generous spirit. Their journey very quickly, in what will be a surprise to no one, gets complicated and dangerous.

The film reaches a heartbreaking emotional crescendo in its first act making the standard adventure elements of the second and third seem almost prosaic in comparison. This bothered me less on the second viewing when I was more tuned into the film's comedy, inventiveness, and consistent beauty. I was also able to observe the care with which each image is constructed. The placement of characters and objects on the screen always serves a thematic purpose and decoding these was a real pleasure. There's metaphors aplenty in this tale and unpacking all of them is instructive. I also took the chance to enjoy the craftsmanship, voice-acting, animation, and score. The score, by Michael Giacchino (of "The Incredibles," Star Trek," and "Medal of Honor" game series) is exquisite and will surely prove to be one of the year's best. (I'm listening to it once again as I write this.) "Up" is a grand achievement that grapples with loss, love, and the utter necessity of connecting and giving one's self to others. It's a brave movie that will make you laugh and cry and not feel bad about it in the morning. Go see this one soon and take someone you love.

Beauty and the Beast (1946)

Subversive "Beauty" toys with our expectations

[9/10 · 25 May 2009]

"Beauty and the Beast" is a fascinating adaptation of the Leprince de Beaumont fairy tale that tweaks the story's usual theme of love beyond appearance. In director Jean Cocteau's sumptuous fantasy, the Beast's appearance remains a constant hindrance to love throughout the story and Belle has difficulty looking beyond it. Disney's version, the most familiar to this viewer, finds Belle learning to love the beast for his character and eventually growing to love his unique, but not too beastly, appearance. Cocteau has something else in mind and uses the fairy tale to examine traditional notions of beauty and love. Belle is not quite the heroine we expected and the Beast is not rewarded in the manner we assume.

Cocteau explains his intentions in this letter to American viewers: "To fairyland as people usually see it, I would bring a kind of realism to banish the vague and misty nonsense now so completely outworn. My story would concern itself mainly with the unconscious obstinacy with which women pursue the same type of man, and expose the naiveté of the old fairy tales that would have us believe that this type reaches its ideal in conventional good looks. My aim would be to make the Beast so human, so sympathetic, so superior to men, that his transformation into Prince Charming would come as a terrible blow to Beauty, condemning her to a humdrum marriage and a future that I summed up in that last sentence of all fairy tales: "And they had many children." I was therefore obliged to deceive both the public and Beauty herself. Slyly, and with much effort, I persuaded my cameraman Alekan to shoot Jean Marais, as the Prince in as saccharine a style as possible. The trick worked. When the picture was released, letters poured in from matrons, teen-age girls and children, complaining to me and Marais about the transformation. They mourned the disappearance of the Beast—the same Beast who terrified them so at the time when Madame Leprince de Beaumont wrote the tale." So in "Beauty and the Beast," Cocteau is trying to be subversive and unpack traditional notions of beauty. Belle, more inwardly and outwardly beautiful than her wicked sisters--see Goneril and Regan--still is none too saintly as to rise above an enslavement to the desire for the traditional prize catch. Given that fairy tales are about the attractive ensnaring the attractive--beauty is the result of good character and vice versa--Cocteau's conclusion is likely to appear odd and unsatisfying after the first viewing. When Belle gets her handsome prince we are ill at ease and unsatisfied. I found it off-putting, but after reading Cocteau's letter, reprinted in part above, I am fascinated. He was being a provocateur trying to destabilize the ideological underpinnings of the fairy tale and, necessarily, our own facile desires. The seeming purity of fairy tales is a sham and props up a superficial beauty ethic.

Yet "Beauty" succeeds as a traditional fairy tale until its closing moments. Belle is far kinder than her sisters and chooses to put herself at the mercy of the Beast when her sisters refuse out of vain self interest. She is pursued by a strapping traditional hero type unworthy of her attention and greedy. Her quest finds her remaining in the beast's home, but more out of a desire to honor her father and out of respect and admiration, but not love, of the Beast. That this love never really materializes is confounding given our familiarity with the story. Cocteau is playing a devilish game.

When ever anyone enters the Beast's estate, the straightforward sunny film becomes dark and dream-like. Time slows down and characters float across the screen. Candelabras are represented by human arms poking through walls clutching candlesticks. (An obvious inspiration to Lumiere, Ms. Potts, and crew.) The Beast costume is convincing and surprising given my expectation of 1946 special effects. The film, whether the viewer appreciates its rhetorical aims, is too beautiful to miss.

And what do we make of the ending? Belle finally gets her handsome prince, but not as we expected. When the Beast changes it does not feel triumphant, but tragic. The Beast proves to be the film's most noble character and Belle a tragic figure for seeking out someone more palatable. Cocteau closes his film with a triumphant ascension to the heavens, but we feel loss and disappointment.

Is Cocteau successful in deconstructing our beauty ethic? It's hard to say yes when he's so clearly manipulating the audience, but it is a deft manipulation and done in a medium that honors beauty as a virtue. In the end it's a beautiful experiment that needs to be experienced and unpacked. Don't miss it.

Koara kachô (2005)

DePalma for furries

[6/10 · 19 May 2009]

I'm sure I missed some of the nation-specific satirical barbs in this off the wall Japanese comedy about cutthroat corporate culture and an anthropomorphic koala who may or may not be a killer. To this Western viewer, "Executive Koala" played like an Adult Swim entry with its unfailing, straight faced commitment to the absurd. Trying to cope with the disappearance of his wife, businessman and man-sized koala Tamura attempts to lose himself in corporate negotiations. He increasingly finds himself haunted by memories of violence and develops a tendency to fly into fits of unbridled rage accompanied by blinking, glowing eyes.

I don't want to spoil any of the film's surprises and would advise renters to avert their eyes from the DVD label as it gives away one of the film's best visual gags. Those viewers who complain about the cheap special effects--for instance, the zipper being visible on the Koala's costume--have failed to realize that these are both budget and style choices. Director Kawasaki, who previously brought us "Rug Cop" and "Calamari Wrestler," has developed a cheapo aesthetic and this is an undeniable part of the film's charm. Troma fans are sure to be delighted by Kawasaki, but will find a sweeter, more gentle film in "Koala" than those produced by Kaufman.

But a little of this goes a long way and the film's story is too flimsy to be compelling. The film works to a degree as it continually amps up the absurdity, but the plot is a tired retread of Hithcock themes with more concern about style than storytelling. It's DePalma for furries.

Star Trek (2009)

Dumbed down Trek

[5/10 · 17 May 2009]

It wasn't until I was sorting through my feelings about the new Star Trek film that I realized how much I actually did care about and enjoy the Trek universe. Star Trek is something my dad loved and so as a kid I tried to love, too. The original show never did much for me as the bad sets, pacing, and dated look of it all kept me at a distance. But in the flashier, bigger-budgeted movies, I found a Star Trek my father and I could both enjoy. Star Trek II and VI are great movies and there are bits in all the rest that I like.

It was "Star Trek: The Next Generation", however, that I really loved--still do--and it made me a lifelong appreciator of the Trek films and shows. The acting was much improved, the special effects pretty good, and the science fiction concepts often fascinating but palatable. I do not consider the Star Trek universe perfect in its entirety--some of the movies are horrible--but I do have a basic grasp of Trek-ness. And JJ Abrams dumps much of what makes Trek tick and delivers a big, fast moving cartoon of a film. As promised, this is not your father's Star Trek.

It's also not very good. The script is an arbitrary mish-mash of sci-fi-ish ideas that allows Abrams to rejigger the Trek-verse however he sees fit. Fair enough. Star Trek has just as many bad entries as good so it's hardly an unassailable canon. But even the worst Trek is usually built around a solid, sometimes tired, sci-fi idea. What does it mean to be human? What is intelligence? Does God exist? Who is God? Should we play God? The new Star Trek pays lip service to some of these themes, but the script mostly moves us from one action set piece to another. It's serviceable and explosion-y, but very typical summer fare. Loud and dumb.

The constant silliness of the film was also a disappointment. The captain's hands swell to enormous size due to allergies. The ship's engineer experiences an Augustus Gloop-esquire ride through the ship's water system. An Ewok type figure offers reaction shots to the constant space shenanigans. All this leads to a film that is more "Galaxy Quest"--an actually not anywhere near as good as "Galaxy Quest"--than Star Trek. And the action scenes while big and fast left me cold.

There's worse ways to spend a hot summer night than "Star Trek", but far better ways, too.

Stolen Kisses (1968)

Suffers greatly in comparison to masterwork preceding it

[6/10 · 20 April 2009]

The first full length sequel to "The 400 Blows" is bound to suffer by comparison to the masterwork preceding it. "The 400 Blows" is one of cinema's greatest achievements, an indictment of child abuse and neglect that's hard to shake. Its follow-up, "Stolen Kisses", is a breezy, unfocused farce that at times seems hastily assembled. Reviewing the film I am reminded of the danger of undertaking a task of reviewing The Great Films. My dislike of them, or failure to "get" them, is more likely to reveal my ignorance than the film's flaws. I fear that I will be exposed as a Philistine. But here goes.

"Stolen Kisses" is not a bad film. But it is not a great one. Jean Pierre Leaud returns as the romantic Antoine Doinel and it is a testament to his charisma and charm that we continue to watch the series with interest despite its decline in quality. Doinel is still running everywhere, unlucky in love, bad at life, and still dreaming big. As noted before, the fact that Doinel emerged from "The 400 Blows" a relatively happy person is both a relief and--possibly this reveals a cruel streak in this author--a disappointment. "Blows" closing note of doom and sadness is bleak, but perfect and we can't but help feel that the film's coda is undermined by a sequel.

While "Blows" was wistful, "Kisses" is comic. It features the wacky misadventures of Antoine Doinel and more than a little mugging by Jean Pierre Leaud. We get to see him fail miserably as a private detective, hotel porter, and television repairman. These scenes of professional failure are often played broadly and Truffaut's direction seems at times rushed and uneven. The film's heart lies in Leaud's relationship with Christine Darbon (Claude Jade). As with Collete in the previous installment, Antoine is doted on by Christine's parents. Through them, he finds a semblance of the parental bonds he never had.

Christine and Antoine's relationship gives the film heart. It is pensive and sweet: the anxious Antoine attacking the demure Christine all while trying to figure out romance. While trying to snag Christine, Antoine will also find himself involved in an affair with a married woman who also offers him a lesson in romance and the fairer sex. This is the coming of age chapter of the Doinel cycle and it never quite coalesces into a pleasing whole. It's choppy and disappointing in light of its predecessor. Yet the performances by Leaud and Jade recommend the film and those who grew attached to Antoine in "Blows" will desire to follow his story further.

Bed & Board (1970)

Uneven installment in the Doinel cycle

[6/10 · 20 April 2009]

"Board" almost becomes a great film, but is dragged down by a regrettable, forgettable romance between Antoine and a stereotypically exotic, distant Asian temptress. Christine and Antoine are now married and "Board" will focus on the simultaneous distance and close connection that marriage can create. Antione finds himself bored with his wife sexually--"Bed and Bored"--without the challenge of pursuit, but ultimately finds himself longing the connection and comfort he shares with his lover.

While "Kisses" featured a frequently slapdash editing style, Truffaut's direction in "Board" is fluid and dynamic. It opens with a delightful sequence following Christine's feet down a city street as we are cleverly introduced to Mrs. Doinel for the first time. "Kisses" is often chaotic and oddly directed while Truffaut appears to be in full control of this installment. The camera pans and swoops with precision and grace and the editing is concise. This film features some of the most assured direction of the series.

Much of the film's action takes place in Antoine and Christine's neighborhood: a collection of apartment buildings with windows and doors emptying into a shared courtyard. It's a small, boisterous community whose characters in their boisterousness and choleric temper recall a Fellini ensemble. While in this neighborhood, the film enchants, but then we are taken outside of it and into a regrettable storyline involving another dead end job for Antoine and a boring affair.

Antoine and Christine anchor the film and keep you watching. Leaud still charms and scenes late in the film when he realizes he loves Christine deeply, though his lust may have cooled, are touching and painful. The two portions of the film inside and outside the marriage are uncomfortably incongruous, but Truffaut's assured direction and the film's ensemble ultimately redeem the uneven film.

Observe and Report (2009)

Shocking, but leaves you shrugging

[6/10 · 12 April 2009]

With "Observe and Report," director Jody Hill continues to create ballads to the emasculated and crazy. "The Foot Fist Way," Hill's choppy first effort, followed constantly cuckolded Tae Kwan Do instructor Fred Simmons (Danny McBride) and his delusional reach for greatness. "Eastbound and Down," Hill's recent HBO series, tells the story of the John Rocker-like Kenny Powers (Danny McBride) and his delusional quest to re-enter the majors well past his prime. "Observe and Report," featuring a cameo by Danny McBride, cranks up the violence and delusions and plays unlike any other recent comedy, excepting those from Jody Hill.

There is constant cruelty in Hill's work and the climaxes reach a fever pitch where extreme violence redeems the hero. Hill continuously humiliates his male leads who are oblivious to their incompetence and then redeems them through the exercising of their own worst natures fueled by their once pitiable craziness. He seems to always be having it both ways, destroying with cruelty giving the audience the laughs that come from superiority, but closes by giving them a hero to leave them happy. The world that pitied and laughed at the violent failures inevitably bends to their will and eventually honors them. You don't need medication. Just your dreams.

Adam Sandler, Rob Schneider, and Jerry Lewis comedies tend to function this way as well, but Hill's view of the world is so much uglier and harsh making the laughs more bitter and the conclusions more confounding. ("Eastbound and Down" was more successfully realized, however, in its final moments, but the next to the last episode offers a weird, violent scene of redemption.) Hill does surround himself with talented casts and does successfully strip his actors down to the worst they can be, but to what end? I liked "Observe and Report" to a point--Seth Rogen is compelling as a mall cop who mistakes life for a Michael Bay film and Anna Farris continues to shine no matter what material she's given--but its tone shifts are too sudden and false to allow the movie to resonate beyond its moment-to-moment shock comedy. The film will startle laughter, sympathy, and revulsion out of you, but for what? The film totally blows it in its uplifting final moments, but maybe by that point we're living in the fevered imagination of mall cop Ronnie Barnhardt. The movie shocked, but left me shrugging.

Synecdoche, New York (2008)

Fully realized journey of dread

[8/10 · 16 March 2009]

Navel gazing. Self-indulgent. One is tempted to level both criticisms at Charlie Kaufman's directorial debut. But the film doesn't end its gaze at the navel--it keeps burrowing in deeper, past the lint, through the dermis, and into the bowels of the writer/director. And faulting him for self-indulgence is redundant since the film is clearly a journey into the fevered psyche of Kaufman where we are asked to sort out the details. We are invited to Be John Malko--I mean Charlie Kaufman. We have been let off at the 7 1/2th floor and entered the Kaufman door.

Kaufman, of course, scripted "Being John Malkovich" and with "Synecdoche" he revisits some of the same ontological and phenomenological territory. What is the self? How do I perceive myself, others, and the universe? "Malkovich," however, was buoyant, playful, and wacky and closed with a hopeful coda while "Synecdoche" makes a beeline straight for the pain. We will wallow in it with playwright Caden Cotard (Philip Seymour Hoffman), Kaufman's doppleganger, and live through a lifetime of regret in two hours. The different tones of the two films has to do in part with directors. Spike Jonze brought a light, inventive touch while Kaufman is just as content to let images sit still for contemplation. Even the visual inventiveness, and this film is not in short supply, does not pop and delight. It causes dread and unease.

But this is surely the point. The film begins in a relatively straightforward manner. Cotard is depressed and having difficulties in his marriage to Adele (Catherine Keener). He is anxious about his staging of "Death of a Salesman" and has begun a flirtation with the theater's ticket seller (Samantha Morton). The film appears to be a normal domestic drama, but as the minutes pass we know something is slightly off. By the time we visit the house that's always on fire, the film has become completely unmoored from reality as we know it and we have to begun to experience the director's existential dread right alongside of him.

The film is endlessly creative but too self-involved to stir most audiences. As with Woody Allen, Kaufman's films appear to be therapy where he works out his issues and neuroses on screen. It has been said that you are everyone in your dreams and Kaufman teases this out in his films to the point where you are also everyone in your waking life and a god as well. It's a solipsistic existence that's finally intensely lonely. The commercial prospects for this were clearly limited. Kaufman breaks free of typical narrative convention and lets his ideas take the lead.

"Synecdoche" is filled with ideas and strong female performers. Catherine Keener, Dianne Weist, Emily Watson, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Samantha Morton, Hope Davis, and Michelle Williams all give fascinating performances. It's exciting to see so many accomplished actresses in challenging roles all in one film. The film follows no predictable pattern and continually surprises. It's a fully realized depiction of dread and longing, but not completely convincing in its convictions.

Antoine and Colette (1962)

Charming follow-up to "The 400 Blows"

[6/10 · 12 March 2009]

This follow-up to "The 400 Blows" continues Doinel's story and necessarily modifies the closing moments of Truffaut's debut. When we last saw Doinel he was alone and trapped by his situation. He stares blankly at the screen and we are given the impression that this boy is lost, maybe eternally. Turns out he's actually okay if not very happy. The very act of continuing the story undermines the full stop and despair of "Blows." Depending on your reaction to the conclusion of "Blows," this might be a blessing and a relief. It's best, as when approaching most sequels, to let the first part stand on its own and try to approach additional installments as individual films.

"Antoine and Colette" is approximately thirty minutes long and was initially released as part of the anthology film "Love at 20." (Criterion has packaged "The 400 Blows" and "Antoine and Colette" together as part of their Adventures of Antoine of Doniel boxed set.) The film finds Doinel at 17 years old living in a tiny apartment and working in an assembly line at the Philips record company. The film includes a clumsily inserted flashback from the first installment and demonstrates that Doinel has continued his friendship with his more privileged classmate Rene.

While attending a concert with Rene, Antoine becomes fixated on Colette and begins a labored attempt at wooing her. She is kind to Doinel, but, as a narrator informs us, considers Antoine a friend. Antoine, however, is blinded by persistent romantic longing that the series will continue to reference. He fuels his romantic outlook with a steady diet of literature and music. While he obsesses over his nascent romance, Colette goes about dating young men with no intention of ever entangling herself with Doinel. As one prone to similar romantic obtuseness as a young man, I found this chapter of the Doinel story both humorous and a little uncomfortable.

This film also introduces a trend that will recur in "Stolen Kisses." The orphaned Antoine, even into adulthood, becomes the surrogate child of his love interest's parents. The parents, seeing Antoine's need, feed the young man, offer him company, meals and kindness. It's touching, but awkward, as the parents show him more affection than do the young women Antoine is pursuing.

This sequel to "The 400 Blows" is worth viewing more for the work of Jean Pierre-Leaud than for Truffaut's direction. (There is, however, a crackling sequence in "Antoine and Colette" when Antoine keeps trying to slyly ogle Colette and her legs while she pretends not to notice.) Leaud's work in "Blows" is raw and and austere, but in this installment and "Stolen Kisses," Leaud shifts towards a more endearing and hapless comic figure. He is a skilled, unassuming comic, believable and deliciously awkward. He provides enough reason to keep viewers returning to subsequent chapters. With "Antoine and Colette" and "Stolen Kisses," the tone shifts from realism toward farce grounded in humanity.

The 400 Blows (1959)

New Wave film offers warning to parents and caregivers

[10/10 · 12 March 2009]

Has there ever been a better first film? Film enthusiast, critic for the influential French periodical Caheirs du Cinema ("Notebooks on Cinema"), and author of the auteur theory, Truffaut had already left a permanent impact on the cinema before he ever stepped behind the camera. As a critic, Truffaut passionately railed against what he considered the staid state of French cinema. Rather than critique from a safe distance, Truffaut entered the fray and changed cinema through iconoclastic example. He would become one of the leaders of the French New Wave" ("Nouvelle Vauge") which rejected traditional cinematic technique and subject matter.

After seeing Orson Welles' "Touch of Evil," Truffaut was inspired to channel his love of film into a directing career. His first film is a cinematic treasure and is an indisputable part of the canon. Want to begin your own cinema appreciation journey? Start here.

Like many a first time novelist, Truffaut looked to his own past to create an autobiographical tale. The film's subject Antoine Doinel (Jean-Pierre Leaud) would reappear in four Truffaut films each time played by the same actor. Antoine's story is very similar to the director's own life. A fatherless child, Truffaut was passed around from family member to family member then eventually reclaimed by his birth mother and stepfather. His guardians would tire of him, irritated by his delinquency, and hand him over to state custody and incarceration until he reached adulthood. Doinel, like Truffaut, would also spend a brief and and troubled stint in the French army.

"The 400 Blows" opens with an uninterrupted tracking shot that travels down a Paris street and escorts us into Antoine's world. It's an elliptical moment that will later be repeated in reverse when Antoine is taken away from home to become a ward of the state. It also prepares us for the film's continual restless movement. Doinel is always on the run away from home and school and onto the streets of Paris. This tracking shot is accompanied by a jaunty theme that increasingly becomes more sad and wistful. In these simple opening moments we are given clues to the arc of the entire film.

Like the film's musical theme, the first moments of "The 400 Blows" are playful. They resemble an "Our Gang" comedy as a classroom of pre-teens engage in mischief and are confounded by ruthless teachers and malfunctioning ink pens. Antoine, in a classroom full of goofballs, is repeatedly singled out by his teacher for correction and punishment. This continues at home where his mother and father are constant critics of Antoine and rarely offer positive reinforcement. Doinel, unhappy at home and at school, chooses truancy and constantly attempts to run away from his troubles. Antoine's early experiences, forced marching by gym teachers, running from authority figures, being confined by exasperated by adults, are later repeated in the more sinister setting of juvenile detention. In the film's haunting final moments, we glimpse toddler wards of the state placed in outdoor cages during recess at the juvenile detention facility. This, disturbingly, mirrors an earlier scene of adult prostitutes staring out from a holding cell as they await sentencing. "The child is the father of the man." Antoine's mishaps are amusing at first, but as he is buffeted by adults at every turn, we begin to feel sympathy for the boy followed by pity and finally hopelessness. Doinel is an unwanted child. No wonder he runs. He is always a problem, never a blessing. There is, however, a brief respite for Antoine when he goes to the cinema with his parents. For Antoine, as for Truffaut, the movies offer a magical escape and a momentary chance for happiness.

"The 400 Blows" is a warning for parents and caregivers. It shows how neglect and constant negative reinforcement necessarily leads to a troubled adulthood. We are impacted by the tale, but not lectured. The film's final moments are haunting and leave Antoine stranded and alone. As he once again runs away from confinement, Truffaut keeps Doinel trapped in the frame. Antoine is moving but he is always in the center of the screen. He is running away, but still confined. And as the film reaches its conclusion, the film freezes on Antoine's face, trapped with nowhere to go. It's a disturbing moment and creates a feeling of hopelessness in the viewer.

If you haven't seen "The 400 Blows" do so as soon as possible. A masterpiece deserving of the superlative.

Watchmen (2009)

A fascinating misfire

[6/10 · 9 March 2009]

Some of "Watchmen" is brilliant. Set in 1985 in a world where Richard Nixon was elected to multiple terms and men and women with super powers helped us win the Vietnam War, the US is on the brink of nuclear war with the Soviets. Those with super powers have not made the world better--we see this in "The Dark Knight" as well--and, in fact, have helped make it worse. In this plot point we see an argument against the still going weapons race--it leads to escalation, increased danger instead of safety--played out on screen. The development and eventual weaponizing of the the super powerful Dr. Manahattan, able to reconstitute matter at will, raises tensions with the Soviets leading us to the brink of annihilation.

This is the game and stakes as "Watchmen" opens. A costumed hero will be murdered sending the Travis Bickle-like Rorschach into action as he sets out to solve the mystery. Rorshcach sees the world in black and white--mostly black--and he the avenging angel giving no quarter to the "scum" of the city. His investigation leads him to interview other costumed heroes and in this way we witness a host of origin stories and learn the dark secrets of many of the superpowered. Unfortunately, the film telegraphs its villain a little too clearly so then we are only left with trying to discern motive.

Snyder's theme, by way of the Alan Moore novel, seems to be that the superpowered are not heroes and so much ability consolidated into only a few individuals is good for none and leads to the emergence of a fascist class. Snyder seems to be be bringing this theme to the fore as he shows heroes mangle the bodies of the unjust. They burst limbs open and hack into villains with seeming ease and glee. The scenes are repulsive and I'm willing to go along with the director if the harrowing violence is meant to show how depraved these heroes actually are. It's an invigorating, if not pleasant, reimagining of the super hero genre.

But then Snyder tips his hand and it becomes clear that the bloodbath and wallowing in the gore is, as in the ridiculous "300," meant to be violent ballet. And it's not so much the violence that bothers me--I loved Snyder's unsentimental "Dawn of the Dead" remake--but how its inclusion lays waste to all the nuance that has come before. This fact crystallizes in a prison scene where Rorschach, the Silk Spectre, and Nite Owl escape from a prison riot and are clearly having fun as they hack off limbs with power saws and beat enemies to a pulp. The movie then tries to return to profundity, but it is now clear that Snyder's slo-mo, bone crunching is the point of the film. The Moore novel provides Snyder a pretext for heroes beating the snot out of their inferiors.

There is brilliance in the film, however. The opening credit sequence is a wonder as it lays out a dense backstory in just a few minutes. It reminded of DeVito's incendiary opening monologue in "L.A. Confidential." The set decoration and costuming bring the world of the classic novel to life and this is sure to please its most ardent fans. Jackie Earle Haley, unsettling in "Little Children," nails Rorschach and Billy Crudup as the god-man Dr. Manhattan is sufficiently cold and distant. Dr. Manhattan's transformation from man to weapon is tragic and the movie's high point.

So much works in the film, but its stylized violence undercuts its themes. A fascinating misfire not for the squeamish.

Coraline (2009)

Stop motion animated film offers scares and delights

[9/10 · 3 March 2009]

"Coraline," is a fantastic mix of the traditional and the cutting edge. Utilizing beautiful stop motion animation and presented in 3D, in some theaters, the film offers a time-honored message in a state of the art package. 3D has advanced to the point where it actually serves the story as opposed to being an end unto itself. In the opening credit sequence, we see long, spindly iron fingers above the screen as they construct a button-eyed doll. There is menace in these metallic hands and the three dimensional effect adds to the sense of dread. The hands seem close and capable of reaching out to us. When the characters on screen stand outside a doorway, the viewers are tempted to lean forward in order to peak into the room. The 3D is effective and enriching.

Coraline (Dakota Fanning), the pre-teen heroine of the film, is moving into an apartment complex in the filled with eccentric neighbors. Her parents both write and leave Coraline feeling alone and neglected. She hates her dad's cooking and misses her old friends. And then she finds a mysterious door in the wall and while playing one evening chases a little mouse through the door and into a mirror universe that looks similar to her own, but seems better. The food is better, the world never boring, and her button-eyed Other Mother and Father give her everything she wants.

The film, based on an excellent novel for children by Neil Gaiman, has a strong message at its heart. "Coraline" posits that hedonism is both empty and dangerous. Also, in order to fully indulge you must become blind to the suffering your pursuits will cause. It's a bit surprising that in a package as cutting edge and fantastic as "Coraline" that we are essentially being presented with a traditional moral warning. The film is not heavy handed, however, and your pre-teens will not quickly pick up on the message. In the context of the film, the message is completely sensible.

The animation on display is excellent, but as the movie showcases its character design and animation set pieces the story loses some momentum. Once Coraline discovers her quest, however, the movie becomes engrossing and tense. In fact, the film's extended climax will likely be too intense for the very young. The voice work is delightful with Terri Hatcher surprising in two roles as Coraline's mother and the film's villain. She is obviously enjoying the role and it enriches the entire experience. Also listen for a cameo by John Linnell of "They Might Be Giants." The artistry on display is delightful and the film offers a unique animated experience. Go see this one soon, but leave those under five at home.

Fireproof (2008)

Too tidy and on message to move any but the converted

[4/10 · 2 March 2009]

Earnest and well-meaning, "Fireproof" is, nonetheless, not very good. The film is crippled by tepid direction, amateur theater level acting, and a proselytizing endgame. It is important to note, however, that the film was made entirely by volunteers. This does not improve the quality of the movie, but it perhaps helps us to be more forgiving of its flaws. We don't expect The Mercury Theater when we attend the local church's drama night. It's a religious tract on film and by church drama standards, it's "Citizen Kane." Fireman Caleb Holt (Kirk Cameron) supervises his fire station in a tough, but fair manner. He has earned his co-workers respect, but feels totally disrespected at home by wife Catherine (Erin Bethea). Their marriage is in trouble as their home life has devolved into daily recriminations and petty squabbles. Catherine has also caught the eye of a doctor (Walter Burnett) and the two appear destined for a fling. Caleb's dad, fearing his son's marriage will soon end, presents him with a handwritten book called "The Love Dare" that challenges Caleb to begin acting kindly and selflessly toward his wife.

Caleb never comes across as very sympathetic and this is both, I believe, a function of the script and a sign of Cameron's limited acting ability. He fully commits to anger and frustration and holds that note until a transformation late in the third act. (This is hardly a spoiler if one is aware of the necessities of the genre.) What's problematic is that both his transformation and the hope of reconciliation rest on his returning to the church. Fair enough given what is obviously the film's goal--winning converts--but that this path is the only way to save a troubled marriage is a bit of cop-out. What hope do folks have who are either in church and struggling in their marriages, or do not attend church and have no intention of doing so? The film implies that acting unselfishly--a key to sustaining marriage--cannot occur unless one is a Christian. That's simply not true and immediately limits the effectiveness of the film, if it is, as I believe it wants to be, a tool to save marriages.

And of course the very fact that the film is a tool first and a drama second hinders it from the starting gate. The drama and characters are always on message and so everything's a little too tidy and the marriage difficulties a little too neat and chaste. The directorial choices, particularly lighting and composition, are also safe and workmanlike, sanitizing every moment. The movie's just too safe to create any needed sense of peril. Surprisingly, though, given the film's limited budget, it's two action scenes, while clearly staged, give the film a pulse and generate the movie's only heat. One stunt, involving a train bearing down on the heroes, looked genuinely dangerous.

Too tidy and on message to move any but the converted.

White Mane (1953)

Engrossing nature story

[7/10 · 26 February 2009]

"White Mane" follows Folco, a boy fisherman living in the marshes of France. He spots a striking white stallion while working and tries to approach the horse. White Mane, a leader of a pack of wild horses, evades the boy, but the two will meet again. White Mane is also trying to elude ranch hands who are attempting to capture and break the wild horse. As the horse evades the men, he warms to Folco who desires a friend more than workhorse.

The film's nature scenes are fantastic and the moments where White Mane fights for leadership of his clan are fascinating and brutal. Animals were clearly injured in the making of this film, but I do not get the impression that LaMorisse staged the fight for pack leader. The fight is brutal with the horses biting one another in an attempt to dominate. Its a nice corrective to the sanitized friendly horse image splashed across lunch box and Trapper Keeper.

"White Mane" is presented in black and white and the scenes of Folco and his family are reminiscent of the familial moments from Ray's Apu Trilogy, unadorned and quietly observant. Storytelling is handled by a narrator who maybe gives us false hope in the film's conclusion. I was reminded of "Pan's Labyrinth" which presented two possible fates for its child hero. "White Mane" does the same, but I could not shake the feeling that the narrator was lying to me. Given the film's seemingly solid placement in the mundane, its insistence on the fantastic in its conclusion strikes the viewer as false. Ironic? Not likely, but maybe LaMorisse is trying to let his child viewers down easily.