In Home Viewings: "The Pirates! Band of Misfits"

The Pirate Captain (Hugh Grant) wants more than anything to be respected in the pirate community. A consistent underdog, the Captain once again enters the race for the Pirate of the Year award before being blown away by the stout competition. Determined to change his fortune, the Captain and his crew set out on a series of misadventures that fail to bring home the booty they had expected. Desperate and downtrodden, the crew comes across a lonely scientist who turns out to be none other than Charles Darwin (David Tennant). Darwin informs the Captain that his parrot, Polly, is actually the last remaining dodo bird. Sensing an opportunity to make his fortune, the Captain enters Polly in a scientific contest, unwitting opening himself up to the ire of Queen Victoria (Imelda Staunton).

Admittedly I am not in the target audience for The Pirates! Band of Misfits. I am not a child nor do I have children and more importantly, I’ve never been a big fan of the previous Peter Lord and Jeff Newitt collaborations. While I respect the Wallace and Gromit films and Chicken Run, I haven’t found a reason to fully buy into any of these movies and I’ve certainly never held much excitement for them. The style of animation is cool in a retro, simple sort of way but quite honestly, I’ve found all of the Lord-Newitt films to be boring and unfunny. Frankly, I’d given up on these collaborations entirely before The Pirates. The trailer piqued my interest though and I ended up being genuinely intrigued by the time I got around the seeing it.

As is the case far too often, however, almost all of the parts I really enjoyed about The Piratesfound its way into the blasted trailer and therefore fell flat in the context of the film. There are a few more laughs here and there but for the most part, if you saw the trailer (and how could you avoid it, honestly, given how fervently the studio pushed it) then you’ve already cashed in most of the movie’s bigger chips. The monkey who communicates through humorous cards, the misguided pirating shenanigans, the sea monster bit, etc. all of the funnier bits can be found in the three minute preview. On the flip side, much of the film’s plot is completely unexpected and the tone is significantly different than what I imagined going in. The Darwin component caught me off guard and the twist that he initially brings to the table is great. But those plot points are almost always swallowed up by the lack of interest that began brewing within me from very beginning.

The Piratesdefinitely has a British sensibility at its core and that comes in to play in terms of the unhurried, meticulous way in which Lord and Newitt take the audience through the narrative. I love British films and television shows and I thoroughly appreciate the detailed way that British filmmakers tend to tell their story. But good grief, that style just doesn’t work at all in a kid’s film. I cannot imagine any of the kids I work with even sitting through The Pirates let alone coming away impressed. I laughed a few times and I enjoyed the handful of obligatory adult-themed bits, but I had to work to get through this film more than I ever should when watching an 88 minute kid’s movie.

Review: "Premium Rush"

I confess, dear readers, that I am having quite a difficult time figuring out what to write about Premium Rush. I usually spend a couple of days after I see a movie planning out my thoughts, letting everything gestate, coming up with an opening paragraph/personal anecdote to tie it altogether and then bust that sucker out. Well I’ve tried this time around and have put off writing my review far too long as a result. And I just don’t have it. Premium Rush is a movie that involves absolutely no personal connection with the audience on any level and that is both the best and worst thing about it.

Wilee (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is a bit of a wild man and a free spirit, a guy who can’t imagine being locked away inside concrete walls. Despite having gone to law school, Wilee makes his living as a bike messenger in New York City and has earned a reputation for himself as the fastest rider and the guy who takes the most chances to get his packages delivered. Things get serious for Wilee, however, when he takes a package from Nima (Jamie Chung), an old friend whose envelope holds far more importance than Wilee could know. He is soon accosted by Bobby Monday (Michael Shannon) who demands he hand over the package, leading to a chase through the city as Wilee attempts to make his delivery. But the plot thickens when Wilee discovers that Monday isn’t just a random nut job, but instead a corrupt cop on a desperate mission.

Show me the person who saw that trailer for Premium Rush when it started making the rounds last year and was excited for the movie and I’ll show you a liar. This movie looked downright terrible and every time I saw it I got a little more confused as to why Joseph Gordon-Levitt allowed himself to be sucked into it. Surely this was a movie that had been sitting on a shelf for years, waiting for the day when the studio could capitalize on Gordon-Levitt’s eventual star power. Regardless of your opinion of the movie, you have to admit this was a strange career choice for Gordon-Levitt. In the midst of a two year span in which he will play prominent roles in Inception, 50/50, The Dark Knight Rises, Looper, and Lincoln, there will forever be a space left for Premium Rush, or as it will surely come to be known as, “That Bike Movie.” This is odd to say the least, especially coming from an actor who has displayed incredible decision making abilities (I think we can all forgive him for G.I. Joe, right?). As such, I was thoroughly confused by this film as its release date approached and even more confused once the positive reviews started pouring in.

Once I finally got into the theater and the film began to roll, I went through three stages of experience with Premium Rush.

1.) I started out skeptically, looking at the film through what I’m sure were furrowed brows, trying to ascertain what in the name of Angels in the Outfield was going on. “How did this script ever get the green light?” is a question that came to mind more than once in the opening 15 minutes.

2.) After this initial bout of “I don’t believe this is good”, I came around to what director David Koepp was trying to do and half-enjoyed myself. Clearly no one involved with this production was taking himself too seriously and as a result, there’s a carefree atmosphere that inhabits the middle portion of the film. It is just this side of a B movie and there’s a lot of fun to be had when you embrace that mindset.

3.) After the B movie euphoria wore off, I became keenly aware that I was watching a movie about a group of people who ride bikes for a living and speak about it as if they had a societal value akin to doctors and then I wanted it all to be over.

There’s definitely some fun to be had with Premium Rush and it certainly isn’t nearly as bad as I expected it to be. Gordon-Levitt is a favorite of mine and as such, I enjoyed his work here even if it was perhaps the most inconsequential thing he’s ever been a part of. Shannon, though, is without question the best part of the movie. His take on the cliché tough guy crooked cop is kind of genius and he seems to be having a good time. You know he’s in on the joke and that makes the seriousness with which he treats Detective Monday thoroughly enjoyable. Beyond the presence of these two stars, however, there’s really nothing about Premium Rush that makes it special or, much more disappointing to me, even rewatchable. The best niche this movie could have carved out for itself would have been in the guilty pleasure category but it never manages to scrape together enough enjoyability to allow it to inhabit such territory.

In Home Viewings: "Bernie"

In 1998, an article in Texas Monthly magazine recounting the very odd tale of Bernie Tiede (Jack Black) and Marjorie Nugent (Shirley MacLaine), the elderly widow he murdered in 1996. A beloved member of the community, Bernie had befriended Mrs. Nugent when no one else could (or would) and eventually had become her daily companion despite their gap in age and general phase of life. But as their relationship deepened, Nugent became more and more possessive and abusive of Bernie, a soft spoken funeral director who never could find a way to end their strange little relationship until the day he finally snapped. Despite having a confession on file and a seemingly air tight case, district attorney Danny Buck (Matthew McConaughey) came to fear that the East Texas community would sympathize too much with Bernie, setting the stage for the sort of quirky trial that is only befitting of such a strange story.

Without question, Bernieis one of the weirder films I’ve seen in quite some time. Part re-enactment, part documentary, director Richard Linklater (Dazed and Confused) excels in creating a surreal environment for his film that continually keeps the audience off guard in a very endearing way. Though the story is quite tragic, Bernieis presented as a comedy and as odd as it may seem, that’s exactly the dynamic that this tale needs. Considering the interviews with real townspeople who knew Bernie and Nugent at the time, the tone of the film seems exceedingly appropriate. It’s too weird to be presented as straight drama or tragedy and doing so would have turned Bernieinto a Lifetime Movie of the week that no one (especially me) would pay attention to. In a weird way, by approaching the subject matter from a comedic perspective, Linklater allows for it to be taken seriously while also giving his lead actors a chance to shine.

I’m not sure when the last was that MacLaine did something worthwhile but it’s safe to say it’s been a long time. As such, this is a performance she can be exceedingly proud of as she brings Nugent to life in exquisite detail. MacLaine forces you to both hate and sympathize for Nugent and most importantly, she doesn’t let her character become completely inhuman, a fact that honestly makes Bernie an uncomfortable experience at times. It would be easier to laugh along with the film if MacLaine wasn’t so good at making Nugent a tragic figure of sorts. McConaughey, too, is quite believable and unendingly appealing for the first time in many years. Given the critical acclaim McConaughey has garnered this year, it has become apparent that I may have to retract at least a few of the horrible things I’ve said about him over the years.

The success of Bernie, however, rests solely on the shoulders of Black, who comes through brilliantly with what may very well be the best performance of his career. Very rarely have I thought of Jack Black as a real actor. Almost all of his roles, whether good or bad, come across as Jack Black, not as a character portrayed by Jack Black. “Understated” has never been an adjective one would use to describe Black’s performances but that’s exactly what this is. Maybe for the first time ever, Black puts on the skin of another man and manages to bring him to life in his own right. Bernie has many layers and Black pulls each of them back expertly, providing laughs while still presenting him as a tragic figure. If you’ve seen Nacho Libre, Be Kind Rewind, or Gulliver’s Travels you may, like me, find it hard to believe that Black is capable of genuine acting but this is a fine example of what the man is truly capable of.

Bernie doesn’t always plow forward with the same quirky pace that is starts out with and as such, it does seem to drag a bit. Moreover, it is at times difficult to completely enjoy the comedic aspects given the film’s subject matter. But for what it is, Bernie makes for a quality, seriously off-beat viewing that stands out in terms of true uniqueness. 

Review: "Lawless"

I cannot tell you, dear readers, how much I wanted to like Lawless. No, like is not the correct term. Between the cast, the setting, and the delicious trailers, I wanted to LOVE this movie. Instead, I found myself focusing more and more on the film’s flaws and thinking about what could have been than I did keying in on the positives. As such, Lawless stands as one of the most disappointing films of the year for me and one that illustrates how only one or two missteps can derail an entire film.

Set in Depression-era Franklin, Virginia Lawless focuses on the Bondraunt family, a set of brothers who have made quite a name for themselves as prominent bootleggers. Forrest (Tom Hardy), a grizzled veteran with a litany of legends attached to his name, is the patriarch and decision maker of the family, Howard (Jason Clarke) stands as his enforcer, and as the youngest, Jack (Shia LaBeouf) is mostly employed as a gopher, a role that leaves him appropriately disenfranchised. When Forrest rejects the idea of paying a toll to the new law in town, Special Deputy Charlie Rakes (Guy Pearce) is brought in from Chicago to crack some heads and force the Bondraunts to fall in line. But Rakes underestimates the willpower of the Bondraunts and before long, their fight has turned into an all-out war that speads across the county and puts anyone and everyone in danger.

First off, it should be stated that even with the complaints I am about to register, Lawlessis by no means a bad film. In truth, I very much admire the effort put forth here to bridge the gap between summer blockbuster and award-caliber drama, which (I think) was the goal here. It was a bold attempt even if it resulted in a misfire. Most of the acting herein is exquisite, though should we expect anything less from the likes of Hardy, Pearce, Gary Oldman, Jessica Chastain, and Mia Wosikowski? Hardy and Chastain each give restrained but at times magnetic performances that cannot be ignored. Oldman, though (thoroughly) underutilized, brings great presence to his screen time and it is a treat to see the coolness with which his character unleashes the beast in select circumstances. And Pearce delivers the film’s greatest portrayal, instilling Rakes with a wicked, diabolical streak of sheer evil that often drives Lawless when the narrative sputters. The audience immediately DESPISES Rakes and that loathing kept me invested when I otherwise might have given up. Likewise, the cinematography is excellent and the setting is so very appealing. Who among us doesn’t love a good gangster film? There’s just something about the Prohibition era that seems to suck us in.

But for me, so much of the good contained within Lawless is undermined, in equal measurements, by the presence of Shia LaBeouf and the disjointed approach to storytelling of John Hillcoat. Like his acting counterparts, LaBeouf is trying and trying hard to give a great performance and if truth be told, it’s probably his best work yet. Even still, at no point could I shake the feeling that I was watching LaBeouf playing a character, rather than a character played by LaBeouf. I think LaBeouf wants to be a good actor but I don’t think he is and I found his presence incredibly distracting and mismatched in this setting. I can only imagine how much better Lawlesswould have been with someone like Joseph Gordon Levitt in the place of LaBeouf.

Just as LaBeouf is mismatched to the rest of the cast, so too is Hillcoat to the overall goal of the film. A director with a flair for a sprawling, even keeled approach to drama (see: The Road, The Proposition), going in I questioned whether Hillcoat was the right man for the job of turning this movie into the audience-accepted, modest blockbuster the studio clearly wanted it to be and I kept coming back to that thought. The characters are yearning for development and yet most of them are given only token backstories and then set aside in favor of more screen time for LaBeouf. Oldman is barely used, Hardy’s character never gets a chance to take off, and even Pearce’s development leaves us with far more questions than answers. Moreover, the narrative is extremely slow to unfurl and takes far too many headscratchingly unnecessary tangents that I can’t describe as pointless but which could have been reworked to fit within the core storyline. I’m all for a good slow burn that meticulously makes its way towards the finish line but Hillcoat moves so slowly as to allow for both disinterest and predictability. There is so much ground that could have been covered here but instead the audience is given far more of Shia LaBeouf than any of us have ever asked for. It’s a shame, really, because somewhere within Lawless is a GREAT film that would have dominated the award circuit. It just isn’t this version of the film.

Review: "Searching for Sugar Man"

This space is dedicated, more than anything else, to the average moviegoer who doesn’t spend countless hours a week watching movies and keeping up with industry information but simply wants a bit of knowledge before walking in unaware to a given movie. As such, I usually go out of my way to avoid any potential spoilers. Between trailers and the plethora of information available at the touch of a smartphone, it’s difficult enough to successfully navigate the spoiler-free world of movies and TV without me adding to the issue. Certain films, however, are fundamentally impossible to properly discuss and dissect (and therefore review) without throwing in a spoiler or two. Such is the case with Searching for Sugar Man. Now, I knew the “spoiler” I’m about to delve into going into this film and it certainly didn’t hinder my experience. But even still, this is an outstanding documentary that I will be encouraging everyone to see and if you feel a story-related spoiler would damage your ability to enjoy it, please read no further. You’ve been warned.

In 1971, folk-rock musician Sixto Rodriguez released his second and final American album on Essex Records out of Detroit. Upon selling literally no copies of the record, Rodriguez was dropped from his label and began a short existence as a struggling artist in the bar scene, a role that didn’t suit him, and subsequently led to his on-stage suicide. A complete failure on American soil, somehow Rodriguez’s debut album, “Cold Fact”, found its way to South Africa and became a huge sensation to a country deeply divided by the apartheid. Before long, Rodriguez’s songs became an anthem of sorts for the lower class of South Africa and the middle class who supported the end of the apartheid but lacked a rallying cry. The Rodriguez albums became more and more popular, making him bigger than Elvis or The Beatles in South Africa though almost nothing was known about the man. In the late 90s, a pair of Rodriguez fans, Stephen Segerman and Craig Bartholomew-Strydom, sought to find out more about their hero and what led to his untimely demise. Through a string of strange events and many months of searching for information, the pair finally broke their story wide open when they were put in touch with Rodriguez, alive and well, making a living as a construction worker in Detroit.

The story told in Searching for Sugar Man is one that would be deemed completely unrealistic if it were presented in a scripted drama. Stuff like this just doesn’t happen, even if many of the events took place before the Internet boom. First of all, when you hear the songs Rodriguez penned for his two albums (spliced in continually through the course of the film), you find yourself completely shocked that the guy didn’t make it here. Every record producer or former collaborator dug up by director Malik Bendjelloul goes above and beyond in praise of Rodriguez, all of them vexed as to why he never made an impact on the American charts. His songs are reminiscent of the best of Bob Dylan, a soulful bluesy brand of folk that pulls no punches in the writing and is backed by a rich, unique voice. Second, the myth of what became of Rodriguez and his on-stage death was so widely believed as to become written into the history books as fact. Everyone beyond the handful of people actually connected to the man knew him to be dead. And third, the way in which this one man, of all the bands and musicians from the era, became such an enduring sensation in a foreign country, completely unbeknownst to him or really any of his inner circle, is nearly beyond belief. Again, stuff like this just doesn’t happen.

The back half of the film centers on the rediscovery of Rodriguez and his return to the stage in 1998. Footage from his six night concert series in South Africa shows Rodriguez to be a proficient, comfortable performer who was in no way intimidated by the throng of adoring fans that flocked to the arenas. Even if Searching for Sugar Man was a complete miss in every department, it would still be worth the price of admission if only to see the reaction of the fans in the packed house when their hero, long believed to be dead, took the stage for the first time. It compares to Beatlemania, Bieber Fever, or any other music-related madness that has gripped a nation. Inserted in amongst the concert footage and the interviews with adoring fans and collaborators are moments with Rodriguez and his three daughters, all of whom paint the same picture of their father as a simple man who never needed the spotlight but nevertheless graciously accepts it and thrives in it. At the time of filming, Rodriguez was still working in the construction industry despite having to take occasional leaves of absence to play sold out shows across the ocean. It is an almost unbelievably surreal life that Rodriguez lives and yet it seems entirely reasonable to the man and his kin.

From a filmmaking standpoint, Searching for Sugar Man isn’t flawless. Much of the post-production value seems a bit dated or perhaps cheap and the built-in drama of what became of Rodriguez didn’t completely work for me, though it did for others in my party. Nevertheless, the story is such an engrossing one as to make up for a multitude of sins and Bendjelloul does a masterful job of mixing the interviews with his subjects in order to make Rodriguez’s tale a cohesive, multi-faceted one complete with humor, tears, and a sense of sheer wonderment. This is a triumphant film that deserves the award attention it is sure to get and one that I hope many of you will seek out.

Review: "The Bourne Legacy"

At times it can be difficult to admit one’s mistakes. We like to think we’re right most of the time and even we aren’t, we often find ways to excuse, justify, or brush off those mistakes. Today I must bite the bullet and concede a lapse in judgment: I was wayyyy too excited about The Bourne Legacy. As a major fan of the original trilogy, I got caught up in the excitement of a new film, the casting of Jeremy Renner, and that magnificent tag line, “There was never just one.” I got ahead of myself, named this movie as one of my top ten most anticipated of the year, and let my expectations go unchecked heading into opening weekend. I was wrong and that disappointment undoubtedly tainted my viewing of a film that never quite measures up to what it could be.

Running concurrently with the events of The Bourne Ultimatum, Legacy finds the CIA attempting to tie up all loose ends of their super-agent program known as Outcome that essentially used Bourne to develop a scientific method for genetic modification. All Outcome agents are quickly disposed of save for one: Aaron Cross (Jeremy Renner), a rebellious sort of lone wolf who is suddenly forced to go on the run and fight against the organization that made him who he is. In need of a final genetic procedure, Cross travels across the country to come to the aid of Dr. Marta Shearing (Rachel Weisz), an Outcome lab rat who has herself run afoul of the CIA. With the head of the agency, Colonel Eric Byer (Edward Norton), hot on their tails, Cross and Shearing make a trek across the world in order to perform the procedure Cross desperately needs and give themselves a fighting chance of taking on the CIA.

The best thing I can say about The Bourne Legacy is that it tries. It tries very hard, in fact. Tony Gilroy, who wrote the screenplays for all of the previous Bourne films, clearly wants his film to be better than the previous entries and the failures herein have nothing to do with his effort. Likewise, the performances of the respective cast members are all of high quality. Norton excels when given the opportunity though he is underutilized and suffers from a character that should be bigger than it is. Weisz proves herself a valuable member of the cast and supersedes the one dimensional damsel in distress that I generally expect from this sort of role. Her character has a purpose and she brings it to life appropriately. More than anyone else, Renner acclimates himself to his role quite well and carries on in the tradition of Jason Bourne with flair. Renner shows off a range of abilities including action star potential and one scene in which he makes you forget you’re watching a summer blockbuster and instead remember his Academy Award-nominated turn in The Town.

That’s about where the positives end, however. All of Gilroy’s efforts to create a significant action thriller are for naught due to the listless nature of the pace and the overly complex narrative that sucks the life out of the better action sequences. Legacytakes FAR too long to gain traction and start moving and once it does it’s difficult as a viewer to switch gears. Gilroy needs a solid hour to explain his plot before we can get down to the action-centric entertainment we expect from this film. I can enjoy a complex action film as much as the next guy but whereas the original Bourne trilogy excelled in combining plot with action, Legacyjust stymies itself over and over. The script is kind of a mess to be honest and plays out like the Michael Claytonof Bourne films, a comparison that seems lazy considering that film is Gilroy’s claim to fame but is also completely fitting. There are some great action sequences in which Renner is fantastic but they are almost always swallowed up by an abyss of boring and seemingly needless plot complications that don’t serve a purpose. I believe Gilroy set out to make a thinking man’s action movie and instead created an incredible film to nap through on a Sunday afternoon if not for a few noisy interruptions.

As I seem to find myself typing far too often this year, Legacy isn’t a bad film. There are inspired moments and I think it’s worth seeing if only to catch Renner upping his physical game. Above all else, it lays the groundwork for future installments in the series which I have to believe will be much better than this one is and will hopefully bring Damon and Renner together for a round of pure, unadulterated awesomeness.

Review: "The Expendables 2"

In this day and age of prequels and sequels, there is one important question every studio or filmmaker must be prepared to ask when they produce a hit: “How do we make the next one bigger and better?” If you’re Sylvester Stallone and your hit is The Expendables, the answer to that question is simple: just add Chuck Norris. BOOM. Your sequel is immediately and appreciably better.

The Expendables 2 finds Barney Ross (Stallone) and his crew of mercenaries still running roughshod over third world baddies and taking on the jobs that no one else will. Given a mission by CIA agent Church (Bruce Willis) that will ostensibly settle their debt to the agency, the Expendables head to China in order to track down and bring home a mysterious box with the help of Maggie (Nan Yu). But upon retrieving the box, the team is ambushed by the notorious Villain (Jean-Claude Van Damme) who steals the box and does the group an irreparable harm. With revenge squarely on his mind, Ross, Lee Christmas (Jason Statham), and the rest of the gang take on perhaps their toughest challenge yet in order to apprehend Villain and prevent him from executing his diabolical plan.

As it pertains to movie criticism, for me there is nothing harder than rating and reviewing a film like Expendables. How do you judge a movie that is rife with blatantly bad dialogue, displays absolutely no character development, and values style over any semblance of substance? You’d say that movie is pretty bad, right? But what if that same movie is also an unhealthy amount of fun, makes up for its lack of story with tremendous doses of absurdly violent action, and creates an environment that is unquestionably perfect for its content? That would be a pretty good film, right? In almost every way in which we as a society value and grade movies, Expendables is an abomination. And yet, after about 30 minutes, this film (even more so than its predecessor) has a way of winning you over, even if you went in dead set on hating it. As strange as it may sound, there is a certain charm about Expendables that transcends the ridiculous action sequences and the beat you over the head with an iron rod approach to storytelling.

For me, the specific charm that Expendables (and other films like it) utilizes is the understanding between the audience and everyone involved in the production that none of what transpires in this film should be taken with even the slightest hint of seriousness. From the very beginning and over and over throughout the course of the film, Expendables extends to the audience a sly wink or, if you prefer, a knowing nod, that allows you to completely dispense with the silly notion of “reality.” It’s as if the movie opens with a scrolling note, Star Wars-style, that simply reads, “Hey, you know how stressful work was this week? Well, you can forget about all that, little buddy. For the next two hours all we’re going to do is blow crap up and make some jokes that are so bad you can’t help but laugh. And when it’s all over and we’ve killed approximately 100 million Russians, you’ll feel a little better about that glass ceiling. So sit back, relax, maybe inject some testosterone into your veins, and enjoy. Later ‘brah.” Every ounce of Expendables is easily comprehended (duh) and once you’ve accepted the mindless but undoubtedly awesome brand of entertainment, director Simon West wastes no opportunity to make each stunt more ridiculous than the last.

Moreover, every single member of the cast (with the exception of Dolph Lundgren who might not actually be alive) completely buys in to the sheer absurdity of their film and “acts” accordingly. Stallone will never get the credit he deserves for realizing exactly what he is today and exploiting that to the best of his ability. There’s a genius to the creation of this franchise and its execution that is due almost entirely to Stallone and his ability to pull in virtually every washed up action star to actually make Expendables live up to what it sets out to be is paramount to the success of this film. West does a great job, too, of hiding the members of the cast who reallycan’t act in the background and propping them up with hilariously bad one-liners. The cast outside of the actual members of the Expendables represent perhaps the best of the movie. Sure, the action scenes are great but getting to see Bruce Willis smirk through every TERRIBLE piece of dialogue he’s given to work with is a treat to behold. I am shocked to report that Van Damme is actually good in his role as the over-the-top villain (seriously, his name is Villain!!!) and gets my vote for “Best Performance in a Horribly Acted But Nonetheless Great” action movie. And then there’s Norris who appears in the movie for all of three minutes, delivers perhaps five lines, and yet somehow completely steals the show. His first appearance marks the moment when Expendables 2 outreaches its predecessor and the joke surrounding his entrance is worth the price of admission in and of itself. (I won’t spoil it but rest assured that keeping it quiet is KILLING me.)

I could spend hours pointing out all of the plot holes, bad acting, and willfully bad writing that comes into play in Expendables. Virtually everything about this movie is completely detached from reality, except for the number of rounds a gun can hold which for some reason seems to be a real bugaboo that no one is allowed to violate. But at the end of the day, Expendables is EXACTLY what it is supposed to do and hits the mark on every level that an awful movie like this could ever be expected to aim for.

In Home Viewings: "Casa de mi Padre"

The son of a wealthy Mexican landowner, Armando Alvarez (Will Ferrell) is a simple man who is only entrusted with small tasks around the ranch. When his brother Raul (Diego Luna) returns home with a plan to bring in more money, Armando is initially excited about the proposition despite his jealousy over Raul’s new fiancé, Sonia (Genesis Rodriguez). Soon, however, it becomes apparent that Raul’s plan involves the drug trade, drawing unwanted interest from both the local cartel leader Onza (Gael Garcia Bernal) and a corrupt DEA agent (Nick Offerman). With the family’s legacy in danger and his own life on the land, Armando must become the man neither he nor his father thought he could ever be.

Told entirely in Spanish, Casa de mi Padre plays out exactly the way it is intended, as a mix of Spanish telenovela melodrama and Will Ferrell’s manchild foolishness. There are few surprises here and at times this film becomes tiresome but then again, there’s something to be said for committing to a bit and sticking with it religiously, and in this way Casa is a success. I half expected Casa to turn into a Scary Movie-like parody but instead Ferrell and the rest take great pains to approach the subject matter with a seriousness that it really doesn’t deserve. In doing so, Ferrell sells the movie enough to make one buy in, at least enough to stay relatively interested in a low budget, low expectation movie. If Casa were a car and Ferrell the dealer, you wouldn’t buy it as a brand new, turbo charged Mustang but you could grab onto it as a used Camry with reasonable mileage. And really, that’s all one should expect from a $6 million indie film built around the idea of Will Ferrell speaking Spanish, no?

The actors surrounding Ferrell are adequate in their roles, though none are asked to do much of anything. Rodriguez fits the bill as the beautiful but troubled love interest and she, better than anyone else in the cast, seems to roll with Ferrell’s antics. A scene in which Armando and Sonia become, shall we say, romantically entwined, the lead-up to and execution of which is so absurd as to bring about laughter even though I should know better. Here Rodriguez is an excellent muse for Ferrell. At the end of the day, though, Casa is virtually a one man show, a platform for Ferrell to do something different while still staying in a comfortable place. In comparison to his other films (of which I am a great and lifelong fan), Casa is fairly weak but if nothing else Ferrell should get credit for thinking outside the box and doing something a bit risky. There’s more to like here than I anticipated, included the blatantly fake backdrops and at least one scene that is ripped from the pages of a Monty Python sketch, making Casa a modest success in my book.

In Home Viewings: "Battleship"

Dear Reader(s),

By day’s end, there are likely to be many reasons to remember August 28^th, 2012. Perhaps a well-known celebrity will be arrested, a small earthquake will be detected in Arizona, John Mayer will pop up with a new gal pal (you stay away from Rachel McAdams, John), or another newsworthy event will take place, cementing this day in our memories forever. But as for me and my house, today will be remembered as the day that Battleship came out on Blu-Ray, making it readily available for multiple, shameless viewings in the vein of The A-Team and Fast Five.

I cannot blame you, dear reader(s), if Battleship has somehow slipped your memory after its less-than-stellar premiere in May. Based upon the board game of the same title, Battleship recounts the heroic tale of a group of Navy sailors, led by a troublemaking lieutenant (Taylor Kitsch), who stand as the only thing between an alien force and the total annihilation of the human race. When their more advanced weapon systems are knocked out, the sailors resort to the use of a World War II era battleship and basic sonar plotting to target and take down the alien crafts while buying time for a larger force to join the fray. It is part sci-fi, part popcorn action flick, part naval recruitment video, and all AWESOME.

And yet, very few viewers on these shores saw Battleship and even fewer gave it praise. Its theatrical run was incredibly short for a movie with a hefty budget ($200 million) and most critics hammered it as a tremendous flop belonging in the same category as Cutthroat Island and Waterworld. If you were to scan through reviews for Battleship, some of the descriptors you would find would include: “noisy”, “cliché”, “stupid”, “shameless”, “one of the dumbest ideas for a movie…ever” and on and on. I cannot, in good conscience, combat any of these adjectives nor will I try. In fact, I quite agree with just about all of them. Battleship is unquestionably noisy, cliché, stupid, shameless, and one of the dumbest ideas for a movie ever. How it ever got the green light in the first place is beyond me, though it does give you a hint at just how important the foreign market is to the future of blockbusters, as this film made (if you will excuse the pun) a boatload of money overseas.

And yet, one thing most of the reviews for Battleship have neglected to mention is that in spite of being stupid, shameless, noisy, etc., this movie is also an absurd amount of fun in ways I cannot truly justify nor elaborate on. There may not be a single scene, line, or character that I can point to as an illustration of what works in Battleship; I can only tell you that throughout the course of its obscenely long 130 minute runtime, never once did I hate my life. Okay, maybe once or twice when Rihanna and Brooklyn Decker were struggling to read their lines effectively I hated my life. But otherwise, I laughed a lot despite the obvious jokes, I rooted for the characters despite their shallowness, and I fully embraced the, “Yay for veterans!” attitude that ran through every ounce of the movie despite its blatant and obvious nature.

The biggest mistake in the making of Battleship is the fact that the studio ever acknowledged it was based on the ruddy board game. Had they kept Hasbro’s involvement in the dark, there’s a chance this movie would have garnered at least a marginally more positive reception from critics. As it is, though, I believe the idea that a movie could be developed out of a simple and outdated board game such as this clouded the minds of just about everyone who saw it, causing most viewers to go with a negative perception that is only deepened by the movie’s brazen foolishness. But there is a certain “don’t take this so seriously” slyness instilled in Battleship by director Peter Berg that is lost in all the negativity and that, “how could this possibly be good?!” mindset that accompanied virtually every critic into the theater door. The answer is Battleship CAN’T possibly be good and accepting that paves the way for a rollicking good time the likes of which we didn’t see enough of this summer.

I cannot and will not tell you, dear reader(s), that Battleship is good or that you should see it. If viewed without the proper mindset, there’s a chance this movie could actually make you stupider by approximately 17 percent. But as for me, August 28^th, 2012 stands as a banner day in the world of absurd, “I can’t help but love this” entertainment and I can’t wait to watch this hunk of junk again.

Regards,

Brian

P.S. Peter Berg, if you’re reading this, I already spent $10 on this film. Seeing as how I may be the only person who actually bought a ticket, I don’t think it would be too much to ask for a free Blu-Ray copy. Email me for my address. I see what you did here.

Review: "Total Recall"

Allow me a moment to break down my review writing process.

1. See a movie;

2. Discuss that movie with whoever I saw said movie with or, if I saw said movie alone, engage in a Gollum-like solo discussion;

3. Spend one to two days decompressing to allow myself to fully grasp the film and settle in on an opinion;

4. Write the review.

It is the third portion of this equation that can cause me problems. I’m an opinionated guy and sometimes breaking those opinions down into a well-reasoned statement. On the other hand, this section of the writing process proves equally challenging when a movie like Total Recall comes along and leaves me almost entirely devoid of opinion whatsoever, prompting me to give the very vague summary of, “Well, it certainly was a movie.”

In the future, the world has been ravaged by the inevitable nuclear war. As a result, only two countries remain: The United Federation of Britain which consists of a chunk of Western Europe and The Colony, formerly known as Australia. Each day, lower income workers from The Colony travel through the earth’s core in a super subway known as The Fall to work in the UFB. Like many of his contemporaries, Doug Quaid (Colin Farrell) is unhappy with the life he shares with his wife, Lori (Kate Beckinsale). On a whim, Doug pays a visit to Rekall, a company that inserts memories into the brain, giving one the feeling of having done something fun, adventurous, or dangerous at a fraction of the cost. But when Doug is strapped into a chair, his real memories are accessed and a host of UFB troops besiege him, claiming that he is a spy. His reflexes take over and he quickly dispatches the troops in a manner that he would have never dreamed possible. Forced to go on the run to discover the truth about his identity, Doug comes in contact with Melina (Jessica Biel), an old friend who insists that he plays a vital role in the fight between the UFB’s Chancellor Cohaggen (Bryan Cranston) and the rebels from the colony.

“Adequate” is the word that comes to mind most often when trying to describe Total Recall. A remake of the 1990 Arnold Schwarzenegger “classic” (depending on your use of that word), this version was intended to come closer to the original book written by Phillip K. Dick. Instead, it sort of bridges the gap between the two while attempting to balance the need to remain similar to the 1990 film while still finding ways to strike out on its own. I actually liked the abandonment of the Mars storyline that was central to the 1990 version and the concept of The Fall and the way in which that giant piece of machinery symbolized the struggle between the classes. Other changes, however, didn’t make as much sense and in the end, the helpless need for director Len Wiseman and his crew to pay homage to the original became distracting and at times disjointed. There are at least a handful of scenes within this Total Recall that would leave the viewer very perplexed if he/she had never seen the first one. The storyline, too, doesn’t measure up to the film’s concept and though it isn’t a bad narrative, it is certainly bland.

From an acting standpoint, Total Recall is marginally above average. Farrell throws himself into his character and does his best to flesh out his feelings and emotions even if there’s not much there to work with. You could make the case that his performance is better than Schwarzenegger’s was but the character lacks the magnetism, as it were, that Arnie’s version had. Biel and Cranston, as well as Bokeem Woodbine, John Cho, and Bill Nighy are neither asked to do much nor given much to do and as such, they serve their respective mediocre, not-good-but-not-bad purposes. Without question, the star of the film is Beckinsale who has a keen knack for bringing life and glorious power to relatively meaningless characters and films. The Underworld films, for example, are all fairly awful but Beckinsale’s fierce charisma makes them worth watching. This role in the original was the jumping off point for Sharon Stone’s career but took to the screen for only a few brief moments. Here, Beckinsale chases Farrell from place to place, providing both our lead character and the audience with a tangible adversary while Quaid deals with all the unseen questions about his life. I hope that someday Beckinsale is given an opportunity to play a meaningful role in an actual good film but for the time being, she’s pretty great at what she does.

All of this makes Total Recall a decent but thoroughly underwhelming action movie that leans heavily on the action but falls short of making any sort of impact. Had Wiseman gone for a more mysterious, ambiguous conclusion, it could have reached higher but then it might have been too risky in terms of reaching the average summer blockbuster viewer. I can’t pick out a single element that is inherently wrong with Total Recall but then again, I can’t pick out something that is supremely right, either. It is, at its best, cheap, decent, borderline meaningless entertainment that should probably be reserved for a sick day on the couch rather than a trip to the theater.

In Home Viewings: "Machine Gun Preacher"

After a well-deserved stint in prison, Sam Childers (Gerard Butler) returns home to discover that his wife, Lynn (Michelle Moynahan), has found religion and hopes to see him change his wayward ways. Sam vehemently rejects this course of action and immediately returns to his lifestyle: drugs, alcohol, and pulling robberies with his pal, Donnie (Michael Shannon). His hardened persona takes a hit, however, when he nearly kills a homeless man, forcing him to examine the mess he has made of his life. Sam begins going to church with his family and before long he has turned his life around. Several years down the road, Sam meets a missionary from Africa who turns him on to the plight of orphans in Rwanda. After a visit that tugs at his heartstrings, Sam becomes obsessed with helping these kids and puts everything he has into building a safe place for those who are at the very center of a brutal civil war. But when his peaceful ways do little to deter the murderous ways of those who run the country, Sam reverts back to violence of his past, this time in defense of the orphans he would protect, who come to call him the Machine Gun Preacher.

Oh, how I wanted to like this movie. I was intrigued from the moment I saw the first trailer and while the reviews from last year weren’t good (at all), I still felt like there was a decent enough chance that I could at least enjoy this movie for what it is. If nothing else the concept, based on a true story, holds some value for me and I must admit, I’m a fan of vigilantism, as deranged as that may sound. Unfortunately, there is almost nothing positive within Machine Gun Preacher that I could latch onto. In fact, it’s almost like the makers of this film were going out of the way to alienate me and I would guess just about anyone else who happened to sit down for a viewing.

First and foremost, director Marc Forster displays absolutely no aptitude for subtlety; think of a method in which a movie can attempt to manipulate one’s emotions and Machine Gun Preacher probably employs that method. Watching this film is like being beaten over the head with a hammer; a soft, velvety hammer to be sure but a hammer nonetheless. I’ve never been one to get up in arms about a movie trying to invoke emotions but man, a little more respect for the viewer’s ability to follow along and connect would have been appreciated. Second, the characters are all horribly one-dimensional and robotic. At times Sam breaks out of his cage but these moments are few and far between and most of the time all of the main characters remain rigidly bound to the overly-simplistic, paper-thin guidelines set out in what I’m assuming is a miserable script. Third, the performances within MGP are really, really bad. I’m not sure whether the acting is hamstrung by the wretched characters or if the characters never get a chance to expand because of the bad acting, but regardless, these are not portrayals that this cast will wish to bring up in the future. Even Michael Shannon, one of the greatest, most underrated actors of his generation, seems completely lost in a role that perhaps he regretted taking. It’s been quite a run for Shannon of late so I won’t get up in arms about one lesser performance, especially considering how much better he is than the lead.

Let it be known that I do like Gerard Butler. I hate (repeat: HATE) most of the movies he has made since 2007’s 300 but I’ve been willing to cut him some slack based on the fact that it took him many years to catch his big break and I can’t blame him for taking a few paycheck roles afterwards. That said, his performance in MGP makes it very hard to defend him. Much like Forster’s work behind the camera (and perhaps because of it), Butler seems to be dead set on FORCING the viewer to relate rather than letting the audience make that choice on their own. To describe his acting as “award pandering” might be a little strong but it’s not far from the truth. Moreover (and much more importantly in my book), his accent is legitimately among the worst I have ever heard. In the beginning of the film, I couldn’t decide if he was supposed to be American (he is) or if the real-life Sam Childers was actually Scottish (he isn’t). The accent jumps back and forth, though always tinted with a twinge of a foreign accent. I could probably forgive that. But things got much, much worse in the second act when Butler flipped a switch and went into a BRUTAL southern accent, complete with the dialogue you might expect to get from an episode of Hee-Haw. Childers is from Pennsylvania, not the deep south, and even if Butler had mastered the accent, the dialogue would have still proven unbearable. I’m of the opinion that if you can’t do the accent, then you just don’t do it. Tom Cruise took flack for his role in Valkyrie in which he made no attempt at a German accent but I would much prefer that to trying an accent and butchering it. Later on Butler seems to have gotten this memo as he reverts back to the “is he American or not” accent on display earlier on.

If all of that isn’t enough to keep you from seeing MGP, let me also tell you that the movie decisively lacks an audience. Often it feels like an overtly Christian film, brought to you by the studio who gave us Facing the Giants and Fireproof (films which I have previously expressed a distaste for despite the shared beliefs I have with the filmmakers). But then it goes out of its way to separate itself from those films by allowing Butler to fly off the handle with a flurry of words that insure MGP will earn its R-rating. I can’t imagine many of those I go to church with embracing this film because of the unnecessarily graphic handling of the subject matter; similarly, I would expect non-churchgoers to bail out based on the cheesy, Kirk Cameron-y way in which the film is laid out. At the end of the day, this is just simply a bad movie that does nothing with its worthwhile central story and actually gets worse the more I think about it.

In Home Viewings: "Being Flynn"

Like many men of his generation, Nick Flynn (Paul Dano) is defined by his relationship, or lack thereof, with his father, Jonathan (Robert De Niro). Jonathan is a racist, a homophobe, and a drunk and he abandoned Nick and his mother (Julianne Moore) when Nick was only a small boy, communicating with his son only through letters. The only bonds these two share are blood and a preoccupation with writing. But despite his disgust for the man, Nick never can quite shake the need to live up to his father’s image, even if that image is completely fabricated. After nearly twenty years of silence, Jonathan reaches out to Nick in need of a favor and almost out of curiosity more than anything else, Nick lends a hand and suddenly finds himself interacting with a man he both hardly knows and knows all too well. Before long, Jonathan has been forced to take up residence in the homeless in which Nick works, forcing the younger Flynn to take a long and painful trip down the path to internal peace with both his father and himself.

Being Flynn is based on the memoir of the real-life Nick Flynn, who worked as a social worker in a Boston homeless shelter in the late ’80s where he ended up under the same roof as his father. The tale of the Flynns is a complex one to say the least and it is presented here in a style that pulls no punches. Indeed, Being Flynn is much more difficult to watch that I expected going in. Jonathan Flynn is, for lack of a better, family-friendly term, a miserable old coot, a holdover from a different time who has never adjusted to the world around him. On top of his vocal racism and homophobia, he is thoroughly arrogant in the worst way possible: he’s never accomplished anything with his life and yet he expects others to treat him as if he has. In Jonathan’s mind, there have only been three great American writers and he is one of them, despite never having had a work published. Worse yet, a life of poor choices and weighty entitlement have only aided in the speed with which his brain is deteriorating, leading Jonathan to lash out violently in both word and action. In short, he is an impossible character to love and even to feel pity for him proves difficult. In the midst of this stands Nick, torn between the childhood need for a father and the adult reason that tells him to kick the man to the curb. He simultaneously hates his father and desires his approval. This dynamic creates a tense, painful atmosphere that made it a challenge for me to sit still without squirming. To be honest with you, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

On the one hand, it could be argued that director Paul Weitz’s goal is to stick the viewer squarely in the middle of the awkward and terse central relationship and force the audience to engage. In this way, Being Flynn is a great success. But on the other hand, being this close to the fray, so to speak, also forces the viewer to react to Jonathan in a personal nature. For me, this led to the overwhelming feeling that Jonathan would deserve whatever fate befell him and stripped me of any emotional attachment I might have had to his plight. Being Flynn should be relatable to anyone who has ever struggled with his or her relationship with a parent but instead I found myself sympathizing some for Nick and feeling nothing beyond “good riddance” for Jonathan.

That’s a shame, too, because this is without question the most significant role De Niro has taken on in well over a decade. This might be his best performance since 1996’s Sleepersand it is a fantastic, hopeful sight to see him go back to something worthwhile. Despite nearly 15 years of utter mediocrity, I am still of the opinion that when given a reason to invest, De Niro is one of the five best actors in the industry, only he keeps taking awful role after awful role. He does an excellent job of fully committing to Jonathan, creating a memorable character, even if it is memorable for being a wretched human. Likewise, Dano is very good in his role and brings a lot of realism to the part. In the hands of another director (not necessarily better hands, just different), Being Flynn might have turned into a showcase piece for Dano, for which I could see a world in which he would garner award attention. As it is, however, De Niro overshadows him and perhaps this keeps Dano (and Nick) from reaching his full potential. Being Flynn is an interesting film and one that is almost as tough to grade as it is to watch. At times it makes a push to point itself toward “great” but more often than not I felt it floundered despite the best efforts of cast and crew.

In Home Viewings: "Wrath of the Titans"

Some years after Perseus (Sam Worthington) saved the human race from the fury of the gods, a new threat surfaces that requires Perseus’ attention. Hungry for redemption and revenge, Hades (Ralph Fiennes) and Ares (Edgar Ramirez) have struck a deal to free Kronas, the father of the gods, leading to the death of Poseidon (Danny Huston) and the capture of Zeus (Liam Neeson). But shockingly enough, Kronas isn’t quite as predictable as Hades thought he would be and soon the worlds of both men and gods is on the verge of destruction, it is left to Perseus and a small team of combatants to free Zeus and stop Kronas before it is too late.

I have stated many times before that the goal of most mainstream films, especially comedies and big action flicks, is simply to entertain and nothing more and that these films should be held to that standard and that standard alone. Meaning, it is unfair to bash on Wrath of the Titans because it does not aspire to be an Academy Award winning film. Sometimes, however, even I must violate this rule because otherwise, what in the name of Michael Bay would I write about this film otherwise?

All in all, Wrath of the Titans is one of the more rotten film experiences I’ve had this year. It trumps its predecessor, 2009’s Clash of the Titans, in only two ways. First, the visual presentation is much better. That’s not exactly saying a whole lot, though, given that the crude post-production transition to 3D displayed in the first film resulted in some of the worst visuals I have ever seen in an effects-driven film. It’s better this time around, though it’s far from noteworthy. Two, the “plot” is much less videogamey than the one presented in Clash, which basically moved from one enemy to the next for the entirety of the runtime as if the viewer was working through several levels of an early ‘90s arcade game. Wrath has designs on moving with more meaning, though it still fails to bring much to the table in terms of narrative.

In every other way, Wrathis worse, and sometimes significantly worse, than Clash. And let me remind you, Clashwas pretty stinking bad in its own right. Above all else, though, what Clash had at its core was a sense of fun. The action was cheesy but it was fun; the acting was weak but it was presented in a fun way; and the storyline was paper thin but it was still fun. This quality made the film come across as almost tongue-in-cheek, as if everyone involved was in on the joke, except Sam Worthington who may or may not understand jokes. Wrath is seriously lacking in the fun department and that bleeds away any enjoyment I or another viewer might be able to take from the film as a whole. I couldn’t decide whether Wrath took itself too seriously where Clash didn’t or if everyone involved just mailed it in but in the end I decided I just didn’t care, which is probably a sentiment shared by the actors and producers of the movie. The central plot seems half-baked and the exposition is truly painful. I found myself becoming depressed that so many great actors like Fiennes, Neeson, and Huston were being subjected to such a mess and convincing myself that each of them were offered so much money that they couldn’t turn it down.

More than anything else, though, the failure of Wrath boils down to the lead actor and his character. We could debate the merits of Worthington as an actor and I would say that while he has a bit of charisma and isn’t a complete hack, outside of The Debt (and Avatar, depending on how you feel about it) most of his films have been mediocre at best. My guess is that, given his relative inexperience, he’s a guy who needs a strong director and a worthwhile character in order to succeed, which he clearly does not have here. Simply put, Perseus sucks. He sucked in Clash but he sucks even worse here. He’s boring, he’s somewhat dumb and worst of all, he’s weak. I thought Perseus was kind of a beating in Clashbut he’s SO MUCH WORSE after a few years of sitting around, apparently doing nothing but fishing. Essentially what I’m saying is, if the survival of the human race is ever left to the defense of a guy like Perseus, all of us had better get right with God. He is completely and totally ineffective as a hero and whatever strengths Wrath might have had are stripped away by its basis on such a worthless character. Here’s hoping that this is the last film in an ill-conceived series.

In Home Viewings: "Get the Gringo"

After stealing a sizeable amount of money from Frank (Peter Stromare), a notorious gangster, Driver (Mel Gibson) and his soon-to-be-deceased partner make a mad dash for the Mexican border, only to be apprehended by the Federales. The crooked cops take the money and ship Driver off to a prison unlike anything he’s ever encountered in the States. Instead of cells and guards, the prison, known as El Pueblito, is essentially a third world bazar run by the inmates, a place where a man can buy anything he wants except freedom. While attempting to gain his bearings and keep himself alive, Driver becomes fast friends with Kid (Kevin Hernandez), a child with an odd connection to El Pueblito’s unofficial leader Javi (Daniel Gimenez Cacho). With tension running high and members of both Frank’s crew and the prison’s gang closing in on him, Driver makes a play to save not only his own life but also the life of Kid.

Produced on a decent sized budget ($20 million), Get the Gringo wound up being passed over almost entirely by most theater chains after Gibson’s most recent meltdown cut its legs out from under  it. That’s somewhat of a shame because in all honesty, this film is pretty stinking good and much better than I expected. It’s a blend of hard, stylized action and violence highlighted by an air of dark comedy that suits the storyline. First time director Adrian Grunberg sets the stage like a seasoned professional and manages to take a set of very serious subjects and infuse them with a genuine sense of fun that caught me off guard. He keeps everything simple and contained, a strong choice given that this film could have spun out of control into the realm of utter absurdity if not watched closely. Tone wise, Gringo resembled 2001’s The Mexican a bit but whereas that film floundered, the atmosphere works well here. The script (written by Grunberg and Gibson) plays to the strength of the setting which is pretty interesting in and of itself (even if it does resemble the foreign jail in Prison Break). Moreover, Driver is written in such a way as to seem like a real guy. Of course he gets away with some outrageous things that could only happen in a movie but rather than endowing him with Jack Bauer-like abilities, Driver is set up to be a normal-ish guy, a grizzled, veteran criminal who thinks on his feet out of necessity. I thought that difference was important as it puts Gibson in his element and allows him a level of comfort that I don’t think he’s had on the big screen in many, many years.

I feel like every review I’ll ever write about a Mel Gibson film will feature a sentence similar to the one I’m about to type but here goes. Say what you will about Mel Gibson’s personal life, the man knows how to act. His previous two films, Edge of Darkness and The Beaver, were both mediocre (at best) but both put Gibson on display as a reminder of what a force he truly can be. In each of those films, however, I got the impression that Gibson was trying too hard; trying to make the world forget his drunken rants, trying to reestablish his career, and trying to prove to himself that he still had something to give. Gringo, on the other hand, works because Gibson seems to be completely comfortable in his role. Driver is smart mouthed, quick thinking, and even keel, a mix that has worked wonderfully for Gibson in the past and one that he settles into again from the outset. There’s an edge of cool to Driver that makes him a charismatic personality despite his numerous flaws and keeps the viewer locked in. It isn’t so much that you root for Driver; it’s that he’s so interesting and unpredictable that you just want to see what will happen next. I can’t remember the last time Gibson was this good and this focused but I think it’s safe to say that Driver holds up well against most of his best performances. Gringo isn’t perfect but Gibson gives it life when it begins to drag and his presence alone makes this a solid, enjoyable experience.

Review: "The Dark Knight Rises"

EDITOR'S NOTE: The Dark Knight Rises is the sort of film on which I could easily spend 3,000 words. In an effort to keep this review easily digestible, however, I have glossed over and/or completely ignored numerous highlights that probably could/should be discussed. Apologies in advance. Also, I believe this review is completely devoid of spoilers (always my goal) but since you're probably going to see this movie anyway, I would recommend checking it out for yourself before reading. This assumes, wrongly of course, that anyone is actually reading this space rather than absentmindedly browsing through it while looking for literally any excuse to not work. There’s a reason why sports teams retire the numbers of their greatest players, why the biggest bands close instead of open, and why JK Rowling’s next book will probably stink: no one wants to follow a legend. If anyone ever dared to don number 23 while playing for the Chicago Bulls, he would be placing upon himself a target roughly the size of Rhode Island. This is essentially the place Christopher Nolan found himself in in 2008 when The Dark Knight solidified its place as one of (if not the) greatest superhero movies of all time. Now four years down the line, Nolan delivers The Dark Knight Rises, a fitting and final chapter to his Batman story that attempts, with grand ambition and mixed success, to build upon the groundwork laid out in his last film.

Eight years after the death of Harvey Dent, Gotham City has essentially eradicated the mob activity that once ravaged the city. In that time, neither Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) nor Batman, who was blamed for Dent’s death, have been seen by the public and the need for warriors like him and police commissioner Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman) has been lessened. But when a new threat known as Bane (Tom Hardy), a masked hooligan with a horrifying plan and the firepower to see it to fruition, begins terrorizing the city, Wayne is forced to bring Batman out of retirement. He underestimates Bane, however, and soon the masked villain has imprisoned Wayne in a pit of despair worlds away and taken possession of a nuclear bomb which he uses to maintain control over Gotham. With his own survival hanging in the balance, Batman must muster all of his strength in order to battle perhaps his strongest opponent yet, with the aid of some unlikely allies.

First of all, it should be noted that The Dark Knight Rises certainly has its share of flaws. If you search through a handful of reviews, you’ll likely find a host of complaints as somehow this has become one of the most divisive films of the year. Those reviewers, whether professional or amateur, are of course entitled to their opinions but you will not get much in the way of negatives from this review. In my mind, almost all of the flaws and perceived flaws within The Dark Knight Rises come down to one of two things: the compression of what probably should have been two films into one (even one as long as this one is) and the viewer/reviewer placing the of his/her own expectations on the film before ever stepping foot in the theater. The second act of TDKR is indeed choppy in places and was probably pared down significantly to get the film in under three hours. Perhaps in hindsight, Nolan should have bought into the current trend of separating the finale of an epic franchise into two parts, thereby giving himself more room for character and (more importantly in this case) story development. I think that would have eliminated most of the real complaints that viewers have had about this film. On the other hand, Nolan could have done nothing to prevent his film from being held unfairly to the standard set by The Dark Knight, save of purposely sabotaging that film a bit in order to make his finale look better. To those who have nitpicked The Dark Knight Rises to death because it isn’t the greatest superhero movie of all time, I would kindly ask you to shut it and instead, enjoy this film for what it is, which is pretty stinking great.

Without question, The Dark Knight Rises is the most ambitious of the three films in this series. It is truly an epic that takes on a complex plot loaded to the very brim (and, in fairness, perhaps beyond) of what the film can handle. In this manner, it is ahead of The Dark Knight, a film I love dearly but which does not bring to the table an especially complex storyline, instead relying on a mesmerizing performance by Heath Ledger to bring everything together. Rises attempts to piece together a far-reaching narrative that I personally had no problem fully buying into even if, again, it could have used more time to develop. One of Nolan’s greatest strengths behind the camera is his ability to add weight to his films, to create high stakes within the story that the viewer can almost tangibly feel and this film is no exception. Nolan creates a set of circumstances, building off of the climate set in The Dark Knight, in which Batman and his fight matter and in doing so, he forces the viewer (or at least, this viewer) to care about a wealthy playboy running around in a Halloween costume. This of course is the product of the culmination of all three films but I think it reaches its peak here, adding a measure of significance to the film that I can’t necessarily remember feeling with any other superhero adventure.

From the standpoint of the actors and characters, Rises lacks the dynamic central figure that the Joker represented in Dark Knightbut overall, I think it may be the best of the series. As with the first two films, Bale isn’t given much of an opportunity to really act but he does bring a healthy dose of emotion to the few scenes in which he is asked to do so. Both Morgan Freeman and Michael Caine have had more screen time in the previous films than they do here but both do their jobs admirably this time around. Caine in particular makes the most of his time on camera, delivering a sobering speech at one point that has been picked on by some critics but which worked for me completely. On the flip side, Commissioner  Gordon has a much bigger role in Rises than he has before, which simply means the world is treated to more of Gary Oldman, a proposition I can’t imagine anyone ever complaining about. Joseph Gordon-Levitt hits the mark perfectly as a young detective who winds up taking on a much bigger role in the fight against Bane, serving as a level-headed confidant of sorts for both Wayne and Gordon. His mix of hard-knocks toughness, slight nativity, and uncompromising sense of rightness make him a powerful ally and an excellent representation of the viewer in the midst of all the superheroes, super villains, and super geniuses. And Anne Hathaway, whom I confess I have never liked, is magnificent in her role as Selina Kyle/Catwoman, a complex character who continually wages war against herself as to where she belongs in the fight. In my mind, this is by far the most dynamic performance of Hathaway’s career and at times, she is the most important character in the field.

This brings us to Tom Hardy, whose physically impressive baddie has been raked over the coals across the Internet. While Bane’s motives aren’t always clear, his voice, spoken Darth Vader-like through a futuristic mask, is even more indecipherable. This is the only flaw within Rises that truly stuck out to me as something that could have and should have been changed. Bane is already a less compelling villain than the Joker was and adding in the confusion that comes from his speech issue puts him at a further disadvantage. However, this does not keep him from becoming a menacing figure in his own right. Personally I think the decision to move from the Joker to Bane was a stroke of genius for Nolan in that the two villains could not be any more different. The Joker is a cerebral, crazy, deviant personality who thrives on utter chaos. Bane, on the other hand, is a physically imposing, controlled, righteous antagonist who follows a rigid plan to the letter. I believe this transition was Nolan’s best attempt to allow this film’s villain to stand apart from the legendary performance that highlighted the last film. Obviously that didn’t work in terms of convincing fanboys to ignore the urge to compare villains but for me, the differentiation was appreciated and for his part, I think Hardy did a solid job of making Bane a worthy and at times terrifying opponent.

Putting all of this together and tying it up with a satisfying and engrossing final 15 minutes, what you have in Rises is a truly impressive superhero epic that leaves the viewer only wanting more. As such, I firmly believe that this is a film that will only get better with future viewings. Once critics and viewers have some distance between themselves and their unchecked expectations most are likely to come around on Risesas one of the best superhero films of all time. Truth be told, I toyed with the idea that this film is actually betterthan Dark Knight before finally talking myself down. Regardless, Risesrepresents an illustrious achievement in film that will not be easily replicated by its contemporaries or its inevitable descendants.

Review: "Safety Not Guaranteed"

The combination of high concept sci-fi and romance in film is nothing new. The Adjustment Bureau is the most recent example that comes to mind but there are countless entries into the mashed-up genre over the years, despite the seeming clash in ideas. As a sci-fi nerd, however, I find that more often than not this combination fails to impress or turns out downright awful, usually because the two elements fight for attention and end up smothering each other in the process. Safety Not Guaranteed, then, represents a real achievement, entering into a fraternity of select films that tell a worthwhile romantic story while displaying a healthy respect for the science fiction that brings the pair together.

The classified ad read, “WANTED: Someone to go back in time with me. This is not a joke. You’ll get paid after we get back. Must bring your own weapons. Safety not guaranteed. I have only done this once before.” When her co-worker Jeff (Jake M. Johnson) pitches the ad’s creator as a potential story for their magazine, Darius (Aubrey Plaza), an apathetic intern who has yet to find her passion, volunteers to come along for the ride. After arriving in the small town from which the ad originated, they soon track down Kenneth (Mark Duplass), the eccentric but harmless man who claims to have built a machine capable of taking people back in time. Posing as an interested partner, Darius inserts herself into Kenneth’s life, working with him to prepare for the journey while simultaneously gathering information for the magazine expose, all the while believing that Kenneth is crazy. But as the date of their trip draws near, Darius finds herself smitten by Kenneth and is forced to decide once and for all whether she believes in his reality or not.

Safety Not Guaranteed has a definitive quirky streak that runs through every aspect of the film and it could certainly find a place among Wes Anderson’s stable of films. It is not, however, defined by its quirkiness the way many Anderson films (and their copycats) are. Instead, Safetyuses the quirkiness to set the table for its assorted storylines and then proceeds onward with a fairly straightforward set of narratives. In essence, director Colin Trevorrow and screenwriter Derek Connolly use a taste of weirdness to lure the viewer in to the romantic relationships of each of the main characters as well as the sci-fi undercurrent. I can see how this could turn some viewers off but it worked for me, partly because the setup is excellent and partly because of the strength of the characters and the actors who play them.

There are very few movies of late that feature characters with such high level of likability as what you’ll find in Safety Not Guaranteed. Darius exhibits a gloriously apathetic approach to life that goes hand in hand with the dry, sarcastic sense of humor that Plaza specializes in. But from the outset it is apparent that she is capable of more if only she could find something to liven her up. This spark in her eye, as it were, makes her transition all the more satisfying and gives a little weight to Plaza’s performance (for which she has already won an award or two). Duplass, on the other hand, is exceedingly earnest in the best way possible. Above all else, regardless of whether or not he turns out to be crazy, Kenneth is a believer and that quality is brought to life wonderfully. His wounds from the past drive the sci-fi portion of the film but it is presented in such a genuine, even simple way that I couldn’t help but root for him. It is an odd dynamic that exists between Plaza and Duplass but that sort of mismatched weirdness works well within this film. Even Johnson’s character, who is more than a little scuzzy, exhibits a vulnerable honesty that makes him much more likeable than I expected in the early going.

As the film progresses and the various side plots thicken, the sci-fi element of Safety Not Guaranteed becomes less visible but is never put aside entirely. For some sci-fi films it is important to believe in the science at its core in order to accept the film but Safety Not Guaranteedis structured in such a way that allows the viewer to appreciate the sci-fi without becoming overly burdened by reality. In this way, the question of whether or not the science for time travel will come through plays almost like a will-they-or-won’t they from a sitcom, a facet of this film that I quite liked. All told, this is a charming, somewhat unique little film that I absolutely fell in love with.

Review: "Beasts of the Southern Wild"

Generally speaking, my opinion of a movie is usually at its highest point immediately following my viewing. By the time I get down to writing my review, I’ve usually talked myself down a bit and have explored the film’s flaws, even if they aren’t that significant. It is the rare film, however, that has the reverse effect. If I’m not completely sold on a film by the time I walk out of a theater, I usually won’t come around on its merits a day or two later. Beasts of the Southern Wild, then, is an exception to the rule, a film I found to be good while watching but may in fact be great given time to gestate.

Hushpuppy (Quvenzhane Wallis) and her father, Wink (Dwight Henry), live in The Bathtub, a small Louisiana village on the wrong side of the levee. When a massive hurricane rolls through and devastates The Bathtub and its surrounding area, Hushpuppy, Wink, and a rag-tag group of fellow survivors band together not only to survive but also to preserve their way of life. But while conditions in their own world worsen, Wink himself begins to succumb to the side effects of his hidden disease, leaving Hushpuppy to learn how to take care of herself.

I’m going to be straightforward with you dear reader(s). Beasts of the Southern Wild is not a film that can be easily processed and explained in under a thousand words. If ever there was a film that needed to be experienced firsthand, this is it. There is a distinct Malickian feel to every aspect of Beasts. In fact, it bears a striking resemblance to Tree of Life, a comparison I’m sure every film critic will make but one that needs to be mentioned nevertheless. Unlike Tree of Life, however, Beasts puts together a cohesive, linear storyline for its central figure and as such, it is a much more relatable film and one that can be appreciated by the average moviergoer, whereas I felt like a pretentious snob for expressing my great admiration for Tree of Life knowing that most of my readers would not like it.

On the surface, Beasts is a touching story about a brave young girl battling against all the long odds the world has to throw at her but there is much more at play here than just one girl’s journey. At its very core, Beasts is about life itself and the way in which the universe works. Hushpuppy and her band of merry misfits are simply the medium through which director Benh Zeitlin chooses to tell his story and he does so with great elegance. It is far too common to see this sort of far-reaching, broad spectrum film misuse the central figure, almost as a pawn sacrificed for the greater good, and thereby stripping the protagonist of his/her value. (For the record, I think this was the biggest issue with Tree of Life and what kept it from resonating with most viewers.) But here, Hushpuppy stands not only as a triumphant hero in the face of certain destruction but also a symbol for the film’s true meaning. As Hushpuppy goes, so goes the world, as it were.

Perhaps none of this would hit home, however, without an exquisite performance by Wallis. A remarkable young talent who has never appeared on camera before, Wallis is an absolute force on the screen, commanding the viewer’s attention at every turn with a stunning mix of power, vulnerability, and sincerity. Many of her lines come in the form of narration, a risky proposition that is used brilliantly in Beasts. Hushpuppy has a difficult life and Wallis, along with the pitch-perfect staging by Zeitlin, embodies the toughness one would have to develop in order to survive while still maintaining an air of childlikeness, an all-important characteristic that not only gives the film its realism but also allows for actual character and plot development. Beasts doesn’t wallow in the harshness of Hushpuppy’s life and it also doesn’t jump directly into the pool of sympathy for her character the way many films like this do. Instead, Hushpuppy grows through her various situations and as a result, the viewer becomes attached to her not to her circumstances. That’s a very important difference in my book and it stands as this film’s master stroke.

Wallis’ mesmerizing and soulful performance is highlighted by the technical proficiency of those behind the camera. The cinematography is lavish and beautiful, the special effects are effective, and even the sound is pitch-perfect. All of these elements continually combine to set a fantastical stage on which Wallis and her supporters can work. Beasts is at times quite difficult to watch and is by no means a comfortable experience. More than once I found myself squirming like I was watching a horror movie simply because of the honesty with which the film handles its subject matter. I will also be the first to admit that I didn’t fully understand all of its symbolism, much of which centers on a pack of prehistoric aurochs. (Then again, as my high school English teachers would attest, I never was one for symbolism.) Nevertheless, Beasts is a remarkable, beautiful film that has completely won me over and one that I would encourage everyone to head out to see for themselves.

In Home Viewings: "My Week with Marilyn"

In 1957, recent University graduate Colin Clark (Eddie Redmayne) was brought onto the production of the film The Prince and the Showgirl as a third assistant director. The film was quite a big deal as England as it would be directed by Laurence Olivier (Kenneth Branagh), who would also star opposite Marilyn Monroe (Michelle Williams). But while London is in uproar over Monroe’s arrival, it is no match to the upheaval which takes place on the set. Strung out and insecure, Monroe clashes greatly with Olivier, who has no patience for doing things in any way other than the classical methods. With the conflict deepening daily, Monroe finds an unlikely ally in Clark, who she establishes a connection with unlike anyone else on set. Soon the pair begins spending every spare moment together, engaging in a love affair that both know will end badly but neither can wiggle out of.

My Week with Marilyn is the very definition of a film that is flush with stunning performances but low on meaningful content. Everything, and I mean literally EVERYTHING, that is good about this film comes down to the various performances of the leads. And make no mistake, these are outstanding actors giving truly spectacular portrayals. Redmayne is only just becoming a known name on these shores but his blend of charm and bashful awkwardness lends strength to a character that doesn’t have much of that on paper. It isn’t a weighty role but Redmayne seems entirely comfortable and gives it a bit of depth. Branagh, as expected, goes all out in portraying the man who was his real life mentor and delivers on showing Olivier as the complicated man he truly was. And then of course there is Williams who both embraces and battles an absurdly complex personality. Williams has built a hardy reputation for tackling and toppling difficult roles (who would have guessed that after her stint on Dawson’s Creek?) but this one takes the cake. Bringing reality to such a well-known and loved person is a near-impossible task but Williams does so with brilliance, creating an undeniably sympathetic character that transfixes the audience more often than not. Williams is beautiful, haunting, and fully deserving of every award nomination she received for this role.

Unfortunately, the film itself does not live up to the standard set by Williams, Branagh, and Redmayne. In fact, it is completely and totally overshadowed by its stars to the point of becoming thoroughly insignificant by its own accord. I’m all for a good character study but even in the most character-intensive film, there has to be some semblance of a worthwhile storyline and My Week with Marilynjust doesn’t have that. I can’t see a way that any of the narrative would matter to anyone who wasn’t on set during the making of The Prince and the Showgirl. That is probably more of an indictment of Colin Clark’s memoirs on which this film is based, as by all accounts Clark tried to wring every ounce of fame out of his time with Monroe. That screams through every shot of this film, prompting me to question why it was made in the first place when it had so little to draw one. One could argue that My Week with Marilyn is worth seeing based solely on the value of its exquisite lead performance but for me, it’s an awful lot to slog through, even if it is one of the better portrayals you’re likely to see. 

In Home Viewings: "Jeff, Who Lives at Home"

Jeff (Jason Segel) is the kind of guy who is just a little too sweet to make it in this life. A sensitive, trusting spirit, Jeff lives at home (duh) with his mother, Sharon (Susan Sarandon), and spends most of his time smoking pot and wandering. He also has an obsession with the movie Signs and makes every attempt to assimilate that movie’s theme, that everything and everyone is connected, into his own life. His brother Pat (Ed Helms) is the exact opposite. A harder man who is always attempting and failing to create a name for himself in business, Pat has little patience for Jeff and his wild ideas about life. Their paths cross one day, however, and soon Jeff and Pat find themselves on a journey together that will lead them both to mutual discovery and an understanding of each other.

Mark and Jay Duplass have spent the last few years building toward a breakthrough, mainstream moment. Their last film, Cyrus, was a solid entry that displayed a bit of maturity behind the camera and fell just short of being a very good movie. As both writers and directors, the pair has a tremendous amount of talent that oozes through everything they do and personally, I believe it’s only a matter of time until they make a transcendent indie film.

 JWLAH is not that film, however, and that frustrated me a bit. Of course, it is unfair to hold a film to my own personal expectations or to demand something of a film that its filmmakers never intended it to be. Still, though, I was prepared for this film to be a major accomplishment and instead it only partially satisfied. When JWLAH is at its best, it truly feels like a day in the life of Jeff, who is brought to life impressively by Segel, who continues to prove what a tour de force he really is. Jeff is a pained soul whose rosy outlook on life is as much a mask for his struggles as anything else but for me, the Duplass brothers don’t go far enough down this road. I felt like there was so much more to Jeff than the audience is made privy to and that sticks out as a symptom of what is wrong with the film. In truth, the fatal flaw here is that JWLAH mires itself in the kiddie pool rather than striking out for deeper waters. As Jeff and Pat scurry about town, I found myself desperately wanting to connect with their stories but coming up empty.

Likewise, the narrative takes its cue from the lack of real character development and often seems to be only an afterthought. There are long stretches of JWLAHthat come across as if Mark and Jay had a great idea for a quirky family drama that plays on the idea of everything happening for a reason and then assembled a great cast but forgot to put much energy into creating a real story. There is nothing wrong with the events of the film but nothing much happens. Mixing that with a sense of shallow character development leaves the film to stagnate when it should push forward and as such, JWLAHbecomes a sort of light, fluffy dramedy that could have, and should have been, so much more than what it is. It isn’t a bad movie or unworthy of a viewing necessarily, it just isn’t completely a capitalization on the currency the Duplass brothers have built up to this point. Here’s hoping their next film hits the mark.

In Home Viewings: "Paradise Lost 3: Purgatory"

In 1994, three teenagers were convicted of murdering three young boys as part of a satanic ritual in West Memphis, Arkansas. Despite their claims of innocence, Jessie Misskelly, Jr. and Jason Baldwin were sentenced to life in prison while Damien Echols, the eldest and supposed leader of the group, was sentenced to death. In 1996, HBO ran a documentary called Paradise Lost in which filmmakers Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky made a case for the innocence of the West Memphis 3, as they have now come to be called, and calling attention to their case. Numerous people, including celebrities such as Eddie Vedder and Johnny Depp, became involved in the case and began raising money and awareness for their cause, prompting a second film from Berlinger and Sinofsky in 2000. It was enough to stay Echols execution and keep hope alive for freeing these men. Finally, in 2007, new forensic evidence came to light that eventually led to a complicated plead out by the West Memphis 3, leading to their freedom. Paradise Lost 3: Purgatory gives a firsthand look at the events leading to the release of Echols, Baldwin, and Misskelly and simultaneously points a finger at the father of one of the murdered boys.

Though I have been somewhat aware of the West Memphis 3 for some time, prior to the release of PurgatoryI had never really dug into the story and I’ve never seen the first two Paradise Lost films. As such, I cannot speak to the merits of either of those installments. But as for this film in and of itself, I felt that Beringer and Sinofsky did an absolutely brilliant job of both filling in the blanks for viewers, like myself, who had been ignorant to this story, and advancing the storyline at the same time. The filmmakers paint a vivid portrait of life now and then for Echols, Baldwin, and Misskelly and pull no punches in their attempts to show just how weak the district attorney’s case against these men truly was. Having spent five years of my life living just around the corner from West Memphis, I can tell you that it is not the most progressive, tolerant area the country has to offer and that unquestionably played an important part in the conviction of the West Memphis 3 who were, by their own admission, very different from everyone around them. A fascination with heavy metal and some dabbling in graffiti were misconstrued and misrepresented as involvement in the Occult, which was a key factor in their convictions. Judge David Burnett is cast in an unfavorable light, along with the public defenders appointed to the convicted.

At the same time, however, Purgatory treads lightly on the motives of the investigators themselves. The pressure to find the people responsible for the three murders was extreme and Detective Gitchell and his team were perhaps not up to the task. But at no point does Purgatoryattempt to make Gitchell out to be a simpleton nor does it make the case that the West Memphis 3 were the victims of witch hunt mentality. It is this relatively simple stroke of grace that allows Purgatory to play as a levelheaded, balanced documentary rather than turning into a fiery assault on the police, the lawyers, and the culture of West Memphis itself. This approach lends far more weight to its core argument than what one would typically come to expect from a documentary of this nature. Instead of wasting time blasting those involved with the investigation and prosecution, Beringer and Sinofsky pour everything into documenting the rise of support for the West Memphis 3 and the case their final team of lawyers put together which ultimately led to their release. This is truly a fascinating, even keel documentary filled to the brim with worthwhile information, culminating in a powerful and sobering conclusion that, in its own way, demonstrates the value of films like this.