The Wolf of Wall Street (R) - Review
"Through the Eye of the Needle"
The Wolf is the life and times of stock maven Jordan Belfort, a tale of capricious sex, scandalous excess, and constant drug abuse. Belfort reigned during the Wall Street years of the early 90s, forming a cadre of loyal sales men and nere'do'wells willing to screw anything to make a dollar, all they need is a pennicillin shot every couple of weeks to keep them going. WOWS is another collaboration between Leonardo DiCaprio as Jordan and helmed by the cinematic genius of the one and only Martin Scorsese.
The raging parties in WOWS would make Caligula blush, and the coke-fueled pace runs full tilt for most of its 3 hour run time. Leo's Jordan is much more believable than his Gatsby, he uses his money to buy power, friends and women with a kind of fun-loving innocence that is hard to fault. This is the frenetic fun last third of Goodfellas played out over hour upon hour, never letting up and never showing a wink to the audience. This is where Wolf may confuse some audiences yet is simply brilliant, for it never need apologize, money is its own excuse. Jordan NEVER believes he has done anything wrong, never buys into the system of right and wrong on the stock market. He is surrounded by laughing frat boys of his own employ, most conspicuous of the lot is Jonah Hill's grinning Donny, a best friend with a penchant for trouble making and pill popping. The movie also never fully delves into the scams and legality of his firm, Jordan assures us into the camera that this is all boring chit chat better left unsaid, he'd rather concentrate on the amounts of money he is making because of it. Hooked on 'ludes and cocaine, on the rush of the selling floor and the weekly morale parties he lavishly throws, once Jordan hears he is being investigated by the FBI he can't help but foolishly stick his powdered nose right in, leading to an eventual downfall that plays our more like the last angriest hours of a farewell party, the wildest and most dangerous ones.
Don't think Leo and Jonah do it alone, this is an amazingly talented ensemble cast too long to list but each one contributing some essential joke or sentiment that is a construction of huge structurally cinematic magnificence that will be longtime editor Thelma Schoolmaker's masterpiece. There is no flotsam or unneeded exposition, it's lengthy runtime is somehow needed and exactly scalped. Scene after scene of beauty/power/emotion zip by at a roaring Lamborghini's pace, so much so that it's easy to overlook the scope and skill of the camera work and editing, but do not blink or you'll miss more than just enough skin to make Hugh Hefner blanch. The lack of downtime is astonishing, the amount of planning and energy to pull it off astounding, all accomplished by our elder film masters makes it simply incredible. The hilarious frathouse humor is onpar with the best modern comedies and needs to be since it constitutes the majority of the dialogue. Once things get hairy and wives get as pissed as the Fed, only then does some self control become needed but cannot be attained. Living in a world of money begging to be taken and coke holidays in Venice, how can one down shift back to NA Beer and vacations to Disney World? Jordan and his crew cannot back down, they are as hooked on the cash as they are the pills and hookers. Unfortunately for us Americans, unlike the world of mafia and blue collar crime that Marty usually inhabits, this world of white collar crime certainly does pay and in spades without all the ice picks and hallow points and lengthy jail sentences.
The true genius of Scorsese and Co.'s Wolf of Wall Street is that the criminality of it all is only a few shades from grey. This is an indictment, pure and simple, of a financial system that allows 90% of what is occurring as legal, of money conjured from nowhere in IPOs and stacks of pennies that fall between the cracks in huge multinational transactions. It hints the bubbles that burst, the banks that fail, the men that get rich and the families ruined, it shows it all without actually showing it, focusing instead on those grinning bastards that are on the other side of the phone sell sell selling, all through the energetic rose colored lens and unyeilding optimism of one of the market's greatest champions, Jordan Belfort DWI extraordinaire. The final shot holds that coke flaked mirror up to us, the audience, a multi-ethnic majority watching from our conference room chairs... observing and accepting the way things are instead of asking why it has to be this way, wishing instead on the magic numbers and looking for our own slice of the pie.
9 Leo's Backside Candles out of 10 (OUTSTANDING)
Showing posts with label 2013. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2013. Show all posts
American Hustle (2013)
American Hustle (R) - Review
"Been so Dazed and Confused since I met you..."
A shabby yet enigmatically successful scam artist and his female accomplice are brought under the thumb of the law by an egotistical FBI agent hell bent on capturing larger and larger fish. Relationships form and crumble around them as they tread into deeper crime waters filled with danger and moral ambiguity, the question is who is scamming who in Director David O'Russel's (3 Kings, Silver Linings Playbook) take on the ABSCAM scandals of the late 1970's.
Sleazy, hair piece ridden and overweight, Christian Bale (The Dark Knight) slips beautifully into the role of lowball scam artist Irvin Rosenfeld. The vivacious yet many faced Sydney (Amy Adams) is his partner in crime, who effects a fake English accent and even fewer clothes than a Boogie Night's audition reel. The two love birds lives are suddenly complicated when FBI man Bradley Cooper (Silver Linings) catches them in their art scam and recruits them to further sting operations, using their expertise to entrap local and federal politicians. Cooper's jerry-curled ego soars as his successes mount up as fast as Sydney's come ons. But the entire operation is on the edge of a New Jersey razor named Rosalyn (Jennifer Lawrence), a poison bottle of sex and chaos just waiting in the wings to ruin anything her husband Irvin gets her involved in.
The movie is well acted (especially Adams and Bale in their love triangle), funny in the right moments with great production values and writing with some surprising and strong guest appearances. Unfortunately the fun is too fleeting: the twist ending is obvious, Rosalyn's character (who is surprisingly well played) is simply overwritten whereas a more understated thematic would have helped her immensely, and the entire package never fully congeals into greatness. Add to that some out of touch music choices and a sagging middle act, the use of skin without the balance of sin, and American Hustle only shambles about on the dance floor with a few left feet instead of the flying syncopated disco routines that this cast and crew thought they were delivering.
7.5 Garbage Nail Polishes and Where's my ZEPPLIN??? out of 10 (GOOD)
"Been so Dazed and Confused since I met you..."
A shabby yet enigmatically successful scam artist and his female accomplice are brought under the thumb of the law by an egotistical FBI agent hell bent on capturing larger and larger fish. Relationships form and crumble around them as they tread into deeper crime waters filled with danger and moral ambiguity, the question is who is scamming who in Director David O'Russel's (3 Kings, Silver Linings Playbook) take on the ABSCAM scandals of the late 1970's.
Sleazy, hair piece ridden and overweight, Christian Bale (The Dark Knight) slips beautifully into the role of lowball scam artist Irvin Rosenfeld. The vivacious yet many faced Sydney (Amy Adams) is his partner in crime, who effects a fake English accent and even fewer clothes than a Boogie Night's audition reel. The two love birds lives are suddenly complicated when FBI man Bradley Cooper (Silver Linings) catches them in their art scam and recruits them to further sting operations, using their expertise to entrap local and federal politicians. Cooper's jerry-curled ego soars as his successes mount up as fast as Sydney's come ons. But the entire operation is on the edge of a New Jersey razor named Rosalyn (Jennifer Lawrence), a poison bottle of sex and chaos just waiting in the wings to ruin anything her husband Irvin gets her involved in.
The movie is well acted (especially Adams and Bale in their love triangle), funny in the right moments with great production values and writing with some surprising and strong guest appearances. Unfortunately the fun is too fleeting: the twist ending is obvious, Rosalyn's character (who is surprisingly well played) is simply overwritten whereas a more understated thematic would have helped her immensely, and the entire package never fully congeals into greatness. Add to that some out of touch music choices and a sagging middle act, the use of skin without the balance of sin, and American Hustle only shambles about on the dance floor with a few left feet instead of the flying syncopated disco routines that this cast and crew thought they were delivering.
7.5 Garbage Nail Polishes and Where's my ZEPPLIN??? out of 10 (GOOD)
Nebraska (2013)
Nebraska (R) - Review
"Drive, He Said"
An elderly father by the name of Woody Grant, who is either on the verge of absolute dementia or just plain rotten stubbornness, receives a letter in the mail that he has won a million dollars and becomes enamored of the idea. Despite his family's warnings and condemnations about the fraudulent letter he is resolute to get to Lincoln, Nebraska to claim his prize, even if he has to walk the whole way from Montana. Only his youngest son David is willing to give in and drive him, and thus begins a long overdue bonding over the road and a couple of beers. But when his old home town and extended family hear of his new found fortune, old friends and foes have a thing or two to say to the Grant family.
Alexander Payne (The Descendants, Sideways) makes another bid for Oscar gold with this fabulously small yet heartfelt Midwestern comedy that, like it's protagonist Woody, doesn't have a mean bone in it's body. Bruce Dern plays the old codger Woody with mesmerizing genuineness. The veteran actor's face is a mask of disheveled hair and confused expression, but whether its senility or just old plain orneriness is one of the many things to be discovered here in Dern's Oscar Oscar caliber portrayal. Woody's opinion about Mount Rushmore? "Just a bunch of unfinished rocks. Only one that has any clothes is Warsh-ington," This type of humor works in mysterious ways, is family friendly (except for one needed F-bomb that probably earned Nebraska it's R), and is very welcome. David, his son, is nicely downplayed by SNL alumni Will Forte (thankfully without all his usually stuttering or gaffing). David wishes to spend more time with his father, and along the way he really gets to know the man his father is, where he came from and who he wants to be.
That is Nebraska's true joy, that of organic discovery of a person, the shifting of opinion over time. This is most noticeable in the script with Woody's wife, at first shes seen as an abrasive shrew that he constantly complains about (with apparent due cause), and yet as the film goes on we get to know her as truly caring for and protecting Woody (she's just believes in tough love). It shows a grand mastery of screen time and it wraps itself around nearly all the characters, even those redneck yokels that must surely appear in any small town America film. It is a pure delight to have it come off so natural and unforced and still maintain reality (which is almost solely due to Dern's amazing performance) something I could not say for The Descendants.
Filmed in a delicious black and white, the film is an old family photo album filled with images and stories that no one ever bothered to explain. Now opened it's bursting with photos of half remembered faces and names just on the tip of your tongue (better ask Mom), but when it all comes rushing back there is that priceless warm feeling of remembrance, of family.
8.5 Lincoln's Ears out of 10 (GREAT)
"Drive, He Said"
An elderly father by the name of Woody Grant, who is either on the verge of absolute dementia or just plain rotten stubbornness, receives a letter in the mail that he has won a million dollars and becomes enamored of the idea. Despite his family's warnings and condemnations about the fraudulent letter he is resolute to get to Lincoln, Nebraska to claim his prize, even if he has to walk the whole way from Montana. Only his youngest son David is willing to give in and drive him, and thus begins a long overdue bonding over the road and a couple of beers. But when his old home town and extended family hear of his new found fortune, old friends and foes have a thing or two to say to the Grant family.
Alexander Payne (The Descendants, Sideways) makes another bid for Oscar gold with this fabulously small yet heartfelt Midwestern comedy that, like it's protagonist Woody, doesn't have a mean bone in it's body. Bruce Dern plays the old codger Woody with mesmerizing genuineness. The veteran actor's face is a mask of disheveled hair and confused expression, but whether its senility or just old plain orneriness is one of the many things to be discovered here in Dern's Oscar Oscar caliber portrayal. Woody's opinion about Mount Rushmore? "Just a bunch of unfinished rocks. Only one that has any clothes is Warsh-ington," This type of humor works in mysterious ways, is family friendly (except for one needed F-bomb that probably earned Nebraska it's R), and is very welcome. David, his son, is nicely downplayed by SNL alumni Will Forte (thankfully without all his usually stuttering or gaffing). David wishes to spend more time with his father, and along the way he really gets to know the man his father is, where he came from and who he wants to be.
That is Nebraska's true joy, that of organic discovery of a person, the shifting of opinion over time. This is most noticeable in the script with Woody's wife, at first shes seen as an abrasive shrew that he constantly complains about (with apparent due cause), and yet as the film goes on we get to know her as truly caring for and protecting Woody (she's just believes in tough love). It shows a grand mastery of screen time and it wraps itself around nearly all the characters, even those redneck yokels that must surely appear in any small town America film. It is a pure delight to have it come off so natural and unforced and still maintain reality (which is almost solely due to Dern's amazing performance) something I could not say for The Descendants.
Filmed in a delicious black and white, the film is an old family photo album filled with images and stories that no one ever bothered to explain. Now opened it's bursting with photos of half remembered faces and names just on the tip of your tongue (better ask Mom), but when it all comes rushing back there is that priceless warm feeling of remembrance, of family.
8.5 Lincoln's Ears out of 10 (GREAT)
Old Boy (2013)
Old Boy (R) - Review
"Tooth or Consequences"
A man with a disordered life comes to in a strange hotel room, one that he will not leave for another 20 years. Imprisoned with no clue as to why or where, he finds out he has been framed for his ex-wife's murder and has daughter has been adopted by another couple. Year after year pass (told through his TV as he watches 9/11, Iraq, Hurricane Katrina etc) and the man suffers leagues of loneliness, neglect and conditioning which turns him into a violent psychopath hellbent for vengeance on those that have tortured him and taken his life and daughter from him, even if those same men seem to be goading him onward.
Director Spike Lee (Do The Right Thing) has painted himself into a true Hollywood corner lately, extending his meh streak yet further with this remake of Korea's Cultural Cult hit OldBoy (2003). There is much talk of the Producers taking away final cut and trimming the film in half and it shows. Plot points fall by the wayside along with characterization and pace. What is left is a bare boned retread of the Korean language original with Josh Brolin (No Country For Old Men) now fulfilling the lead role. He is joined by Sam Jackson (in his first collaboration with Lee since Jungle Fever) as the jailer and Elizabeth Olsen as an agent of mercy and tenderness. The stuttering adjustment from the shores of Korea to the United States bemoans attendance expectations, especially when the misery and weird self loathing so rampant in the old version has mostly been lifted and lightened.
The easiest comparison between the two can be made with the hallway fight which made the original so famous. It also exists in the new version, with Brolin beating back an entire Martial Arts fight team for a good five minutes in one continuous shot (though why a company of big tough badguys shrink to acrobatic-sized stuntmen is left unanswered). In a rare decision to try and one up the original, the fight here is now one long steady cam shot that follows the action down levels instead of just laterally. According to rumor this scene was longer than 2003s, but shortened by the producers much to Lee and Brolin's loud chagrin, leaving the fight bloody yet a mere exercise in shadow boxing the original. Whether the entire film's lack of depth and clanging plot holes can be laid at the feet of scene chopping producers will never be known without seeing this supposed 3 hour Director's cut. What can be determined is whether this remake ever needed to be made at all. Spike Lee, who brings his own controversial luggage to any mainstream release, still seems a much better choice than originators Steven Spielberg and Will Smith. Translating the film to english and removing the Asian cinema je ne sais quoi has left the dialogue creaky and unmanageable, the cliches and conveniences glaring, the villain reduced to insufferable mustachio twirling (seriously dragging the entire ending into Vincent Price ham and cheese territory), and for some odd reason the ending changed from its gut-wrenching ambiguity to some unreasonable slice of American machismo that just does not fit the film's tableaux of the taboo.
So what is left on the grill? Brolin's performance is worthy (Sam Jackson's however is debatable, his role feel contractually expanded and overblown), Lee's direction is sharp and professional and his intentions are obviously good, showing the original true love and honor by keeping its bloody fist balled tight. And yet the entire production feels like toys you are now too old to play with, simply going through the motions of play without a real passion, biding until you can put them back on their dusty shelf where you know they belong. The real Oldboy is now a decade older, and it will still be the one you most likely will remember fondly another decade from now, its luster hopefully untarnished by Hollywood's sticky fingers.
5.5 Where Is My Tooth Scene? out of 10 (MEDICORE)
"Tooth or Consequences"
A man with a disordered life comes to in a strange hotel room, one that he will not leave for another 20 years. Imprisoned with no clue as to why or where, he finds out he has been framed for his ex-wife's murder and has daughter has been adopted by another couple. Year after year pass (told through his TV as he watches 9/11, Iraq, Hurricane Katrina etc) and the man suffers leagues of loneliness, neglect and conditioning which turns him into a violent psychopath hellbent for vengeance on those that have tortured him and taken his life and daughter from him, even if those same men seem to be goading him onward.
Director Spike Lee (Do The Right Thing) has painted himself into a true Hollywood corner lately, extending his meh streak yet further with this remake of Korea's Cultural Cult hit OldBoy (2003). There is much talk of the Producers taking away final cut and trimming the film in half and it shows. Plot points fall by the wayside along with characterization and pace. What is left is a bare boned retread of the Korean language original with Josh Brolin (No Country For Old Men) now fulfilling the lead role. He is joined by Sam Jackson (in his first collaboration with Lee since Jungle Fever) as the jailer and Elizabeth Olsen as an agent of mercy and tenderness. The stuttering adjustment from the shores of Korea to the United States bemoans attendance expectations, especially when the misery and weird self loathing so rampant in the old version has mostly been lifted and lightened.
The easiest comparison between the two can be made with the hallway fight which made the original so famous. It also exists in the new version, with Brolin beating back an entire Martial Arts fight team for a good five minutes in one continuous shot (though why a company of big tough badguys shrink to acrobatic-sized stuntmen is left unanswered). In a rare decision to try and one up the original, the fight here is now one long steady cam shot that follows the action down levels instead of just laterally. According to rumor this scene was longer than 2003s, but shortened by the producers much to Lee and Brolin's loud chagrin, leaving the fight bloody yet a mere exercise in shadow boxing the original. Whether the entire film's lack of depth and clanging plot holes can be laid at the feet of scene chopping producers will never be known without seeing this supposed 3 hour Director's cut. What can be determined is whether this remake ever needed to be made at all. Spike Lee, who brings his own controversial luggage to any mainstream release, still seems a much better choice than originators Steven Spielberg and Will Smith. Translating the film to english and removing the Asian cinema je ne sais quoi has left the dialogue creaky and unmanageable, the cliches and conveniences glaring, the villain reduced to insufferable mustachio twirling (seriously dragging the entire ending into Vincent Price ham and cheese territory), and for some odd reason the ending changed from its gut-wrenching ambiguity to some unreasonable slice of American machismo that just does not fit the film's tableaux of the taboo.
So what is left on the grill? Brolin's performance is worthy (Sam Jackson's however is debatable, his role feel contractually expanded and overblown), Lee's direction is sharp and professional and his intentions are obviously good, showing the original true love and honor by keeping its bloody fist balled tight. And yet the entire production feels like toys you are now too old to play with, simply going through the motions of play without a real passion, biding until you can put them back on their dusty shelf where you know they belong. The real Oldboy is now a decade older, and it will still be the one you most likely will remember fondly another decade from now, its luster hopefully untarnished by Hollywood's sticky fingers.
5.5 Where Is My Tooth Scene? out of 10 (MEDICORE)
Thor: The Dark World (2013)
Thor: The Dark World (PG-13) - Review
"Star Wars with Hammers"
The Marvel Universe attempts to shave off some of the Fantasy Sci/Fi craze, and somewhat succeeds, in the newest solo outing of the God of Thunder after his stint in the blockbuster Avengers. More inner-family strife rocks the royal family of Asgard as an old threat of Space Elves with a weapon from another dimension of cliche. Unlike the other franchises, Marvel has steeped the Thor films in romantic interest, pushing Chris Hemsworth loves Natalie Portman on the audience when really all anyone wants to see is more Tom Hiddleston as halfbrother Loki (this time sans horny helmet but still able to steal scenes like nobodies business). The Space Elves come straight from a bad hellboy sequel, their weapon is true doomsday cheese, the Star Wars like vehicles and lazer fights, the awkward romance and wacky sidekicks tacked on for female audiences, it all still adds up to a better film that builds upon the mediocrity of the first while retaining what worked (Heimdall, Hopkins and a general Shakespearean air) and churns up some grade "A" spectacle that with the proper blinders can be enjoyed like a more meatheaded step by Marvel towards a LOTR sized market and Box Office Share.
6 By The Beards of Odin out of 10 (GOOD)
"Star Wars with Hammers"
The Marvel Universe attempts to shave off some of the Fantasy Sci/Fi craze, and somewhat succeeds, in the newest solo outing of the God of Thunder after his stint in the blockbuster Avengers. More inner-family strife rocks the royal family of Asgard as an old threat of Space Elves with a weapon from another dimension of cliche. Unlike the other franchises, Marvel has steeped the Thor films in romantic interest, pushing Chris Hemsworth loves Natalie Portman on the audience when really all anyone wants to see is more Tom Hiddleston as halfbrother Loki (this time sans horny helmet but still able to steal scenes like nobodies business). The Space Elves come straight from a bad hellboy sequel, their weapon is true doomsday cheese, the Star Wars like vehicles and lazer fights, the awkward romance and wacky sidekicks tacked on for female audiences, it all still adds up to a better film that builds upon the mediocrity of the first while retaining what worked (Heimdall, Hopkins and a general Shakespearean air) and churns up some grade "A" spectacle that with the proper blinders can be enjoyed like a more meatheaded step by Marvel towards a LOTR sized market and Box Office Share.
6 By The Beards of Odin out of 10 (GOOD)
Blue Ruin (2013)
Blue Ruin (R)
"Fear the Beard "
A young homeless man hears his parent's killer is being released from prison after years of incarceration and immediately sets out to avenge them. After sudden, violent confrontation brings him and his kin into a bullet ridden feud with the other family, the man finds himself embroiled with not just family politics but the skeletons in their closets too in this super independant and anti-Hollywood thriller made with much polish and less budget than your average footwear commercial.
Featuring a cast and crews of unknowns, shot and produced on their own shoestrings by a group of go-getters, funded by the internet savy on Kickstarter (using a colorful pitch showing the bearded vagrant with a shotgun walking around a carnival), Blue Ruin maybe the future of crowd-sourced entertainment over the studios or just a rare example of perseverance and hard work, talent (and luck) paying off, but in either case Blue Ruin does it more professionally than most high end production. The director has an eye for visuals, his young star (and best friend) has a nice case of believability, and even with some amateurishness seeping into the edges of the frame with some iffy acting and physical effects, it upholds its side of the bargain with an unusual story married to strong cinematography. A unique spin on the old story of the Hatfields and the McCoys but this time with automatic weapons, Blue Ruin may be a small movie in scope but could spell big changes later on for the film indistury, if only for it's cast and crew's futures.
6.5 Fear The Beards out of 10 (GOOD)
"Fear the Beard "
A young homeless man hears his parent's killer is being released from prison after years of incarceration and immediately sets out to avenge them. After sudden, violent confrontation brings him and his kin into a bullet ridden feud with the other family, the man finds himself embroiled with not just family politics but the skeletons in their closets too in this super independant and anti-Hollywood thriller made with much polish and less budget than your average footwear commercial.
Featuring a cast and crews of unknowns, shot and produced on their own shoestrings by a group of go-getters, funded by the internet savy on Kickstarter (using a colorful pitch showing the bearded vagrant with a shotgun walking around a carnival), Blue Ruin maybe the future of crowd-sourced entertainment over the studios or just a rare example of perseverance and hard work, talent (and luck) paying off, but in either case Blue Ruin does it more professionally than most high end production. The director has an eye for visuals, his young star (and best friend) has a nice case of believability, and even with some amateurishness seeping into the edges of the frame with some iffy acting and physical effects, it upholds its side of the bargain with an unusual story married to strong cinematography. A unique spin on the old story of the Hatfields and the McCoys but this time with automatic weapons, Blue Ruin may be a small movie in scope but could spell big changes later on for the film indistury, if only for it's cast and crew's futures.
6.5 Fear The Beards out of 10 (GOOD)
Prisoners (2013)
Prisoners (R)
"The Old Ball and Chain"
A community is dumbstruck when two young children disappear outside a house on Thanksgiving day. When the investigation drags and mysterious events entangle the families, one father takes it upon himself to find his daughter by interrogating the clear suspect, even as the police slowly encircle his life in this taught, successful thriller with a great ensemble cast and one of those endings that leave you wishing there was 5 minutes more.
Wolverine's alter ego Hugh Jackman leads the cast as blue collar dad Keller, who enlists his neighbor and fellow grieving father Terrance Howard into the dark shadows of vigilantism against the most likely suspect Paul Dano (There Will Be Blood). Jake Gyllenhall's detective is a bit of a miscast, but doesn't lead to any distractions. Legendary cinematographer Roger Deakins (of the Coen's Fargo fame) brings his "A+" game, uplifting the entire production from the hazy snow to the grim set jaws of the cast. The story takes quite a few swerves and swipes the red herring around (even when it ends up in predictable territory), yet it's edge never fails to be keen. It's a white knuckler, with that palpable feeling of eyes on your back, of baited breath as the hair on your arms stand on end. The title is a little too on the nose, as is Jackman's character selling his own prisoner of grief role, but the subject matter is relevant and can push all kinds of buttons regarding parental instinct and the abuse of the innocent,
7.5 Plastic Emergency Whistles out of 10 (GOOD)
"The Old Ball and Chain"
A community is dumbstruck when two young children disappear outside a house on Thanksgiving day. When the investigation drags and mysterious events entangle the families, one father takes it upon himself to find his daughter by interrogating the clear suspect, even as the police slowly encircle his life in this taught, successful thriller with a great ensemble cast and one of those endings that leave you wishing there was 5 minutes more.
Wolverine's alter ego Hugh Jackman leads the cast as blue collar dad Keller, who enlists his neighbor and fellow grieving father Terrance Howard into the dark shadows of vigilantism against the most likely suspect Paul Dano (There Will Be Blood). Jake Gyllenhall's detective is a bit of a miscast, but doesn't lead to any distractions. Legendary cinematographer Roger Deakins (of the Coen's Fargo fame) brings his "A+" game, uplifting the entire production from the hazy snow to the grim set jaws of the cast. The story takes quite a few swerves and swipes the red herring around (even when it ends up in predictable territory), yet it's edge never fails to be keen. It's a white knuckler, with that palpable feeling of eyes on your back, of baited breath as the hair on your arms stand on end. The title is a little too on the nose, as is Jackman's character selling his own prisoner of grief role, but the subject matter is relevant and can push all kinds of buttons regarding parental instinct and the abuse of the innocent,
7.5 Plastic Emergency Whistles out of 10 (GOOD)
Under The Skin (2013)
Under The Skin (R)
A mysterious woman drives around Scotland luring strange men into her van and into certain doom in director Jonathan Glazer's newest film, Under The Skin.
The woman is played by blockbuster stunner Scarlet Johansen (Lost in Translation), and in a nice twist she drives about luring men to their visually splendid, yet weirdly ambiguous, demise using her sexuality. It's not the first Horror genre pic to play the "most dangerous gender" card, but it works. However when she flees the situation after meeting a disfigured man and her motorcycle male handlers start combing the countryside for her, the movie takes a sharp turn towards "meh."
Glazer is a master of unsettling visuals (Sexy Beast was his first feature film after excelling in creeping out MTV for years). The abduction scenes were spellbinding, they take place in a dark space that her victims slowly sink through the floor. The music in these scenes is also fantastic and drives home an otherworldy creepy mood that pervades the WTF. And yet the film throws all that mystery away just to begin a drawn out run-away, is she human? plot that centers on rainy cold Scottish scenery and little to no dialog. In the end, the hypnotic visuals and sounds can't overcome the very simple plot. The ending moments elevate it back into watchable, but only by the skin of it's teeth.
4.5 ScarJo's In and Out of Her Lingerie out of 10 (MEDIOCRE)
A mysterious woman drives around Scotland luring strange men into her van and into certain doom in director Jonathan Glazer's newest film, Under The Skin.
The woman is played by blockbuster stunner Scarlet Johansen (Lost in Translation), and in a nice twist she drives about luring men to their visually splendid, yet weirdly ambiguous, demise using her sexuality. It's not the first Horror genre pic to play the "most dangerous gender" card, but it works. However when she flees the situation after meeting a disfigured man and her motorcycle male handlers start combing the countryside for her, the movie takes a sharp turn towards "meh."
Glazer is a master of unsettling visuals (Sexy Beast was his first feature film after excelling in creeping out MTV for years). The abduction scenes were spellbinding, they take place in a dark space that her victims slowly sink through the floor. The music in these scenes is also fantastic and drives home an otherworldy creepy mood that pervades the WTF. And yet the film throws all that mystery away just to begin a drawn out run-away, is she human? plot that centers on rainy cold Scottish scenery and little to no dialog. In the end, the hypnotic visuals and sounds can't overcome the very simple plot. The ending moments elevate it back into watchable, but only by the skin of it's teeth.
4.5 ScarJo's In and Out of Her Lingerie out of 10 (MEDIOCRE)
Gravity (2013)
Gravity (PG-13) - Review
"In Space no one can hear you squeam"
On a mission to repair the Hubble Space telescope, dashing veteran astronaut Matt Kowalski (George Clooney) and civilian medical engineer Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock) must overcome the dangers of the laws of physics in the vaccum of space as they try to survive a collision with space debris and must cling to each other for support as they freefall hundreds of miles above the planet.
Director Alfonso Cuaron (who also directed the superbly crafted Children of Men) revels in the 3D medium, producing his trademarked lengthy shots that zoom in and out of the scenes as the characters attempt to cling to their lives high above mother Earth. The acting is obviously upper echelon, though this is a role that Clooney can and does float through without batting a baby blue. Bullock's Ryan is the vulnerable one here, she is barely trained and has emotional baggage stemming from the death of her only child. However, in a nod to a genuine staple of Sci-Fi heroinism, she takes little time in stripping to her underwear and bettering her male peers as she returns to the womb of weightlessness. This is her story, a fantastic yet mostly realistic horror-in-space tale that will leave you reeling again and again as she spins, drops, floats, flails and burns her way forward in an attempt to escape. Hopefully your sense of vertigo is up to the task of watching.
The pace is one of the best to be seen on the silver screen, the swelling of soundtrack music often standing in for the lack of sound effects that are the mark of the attempt of true science fiction. However, it must be said that Gravity features as much (if not more) CGI than Life of Pi, and like that film about a character surviving in an inhospitable environment with only themselves to depend on, it fills the frame with the uncanny valley, that sensation that nothing you are seeing is quite real. The astronauts look to be mere floating faces on computer generated bodies, going about their tasks while the materials and animations of their suits never look quite solidified and real. The telescopic 3D use is excellent, but also highlights the overall fad of the medium. Cuaron has fashioned a wonderfully crowd pleasing treat and the 3D is so well used it mostly fades into the background and brings you, in a darkened theater where it is most effective, closer to the danger. Yet how many great artists have been able to do that, and how many have the talent or the ability to make the next (or have made one that compares to) Gravity? In the many years of 3D film making there have not been any, and doubtless few more as home/mobile media continues to overtake the theatrical market.
The plot sometimes careens into the obvious, but that's ok as snappy references to Dark Star twang by and Sandra scrambles on another space platform fraught with peril. Its the best constantly on the edge of your seat SciFi film since The Abyss and the best film about space survival since Apollo 13 or 2001 A Space Odyssey. There no overt political agendas or themes to be had here, just pure high altitude entertainment with a pleasantly adroit message of "it's not enough just to survive, you have to live". That's something us Terrans can always hear more of.
8.5 Dreamy Clooneys out of 10 (GREAT)
"In Space no one can hear you squeam"
On a mission to repair the Hubble Space telescope, dashing veteran astronaut Matt Kowalski (George Clooney) and civilian medical engineer Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock) must overcome the dangers of the laws of physics in the vaccum of space as they try to survive a collision with space debris and must cling to each other for support as they freefall hundreds of miles above the planet.
Director Alfonso Cuaron (who also directed the superbly crafted Children of Men) revels in the 3D medium, producing his trademarked lengthy shots that zoom in and out of the scenes as the characters attempt to cling to their lives high above mother Earth. The acting is obviously upper echelon, though this is a role that Clooney can and does float through without batting a baby blue. Bullock's Ryan is the vulnerable one here, she is barely trained and has emotional baggage stemming from the death of her only child. However, in a nod to a genuine staple of Sci-Fi heroinism, she takes little time in stripping to her underwear and bettering her male peers as she returns to the womb of weightlessness. This is her story, a fantastic yet mostly realistic horror-in-space tale that will leave you reeling again and again as she spins, drops, floats, flails and burns her way forward in an attempt to escape. Hopefully your sense of vertigo is up to the task of watching.
The pace is one of the best to be seen on the silver screen, the swelling of soundtrack music often standing in for the lack of sound effects that are the mark of the attempt of true science fiction. However, it must be said that Gravity features as much (if not more) CGI than Life of Pi, and like that film about a character surviving in an inhospitable environment with only themselves to depend on, it fills the frame with the uncanny valley, that sensation that nothing you are seeing is quite real. The astronauts look to be mere floating faces on computer generated bodies, going about their tasks while the materials and animations of their suits never look quite solidified and real. The telescopic 3D use is excellent, but also highlights the overall fad of the medium. Cuaron has fashioned a wonderfully crowd pleasing treat and the 3D is so well used it mostly fades into the background and brings you, in a darkened theater where it is most effective, closer to the danger. Yet how many great artists have been able to do that, and how many have the talent or the ability to make the next (or have made one that compares to) Gravity? In the many years of 3D film making there have not been any, and doubtless few more as home/mobile media continues to overtake the theatrical market.
The plot sometimes careens into the obvious, but that's ok as snappy references to Dark Star twang by and Sandra scrambles on another space platform fraught with peril. Its the best constantly on the edge of your seat SciFi film since The Abyss and the best film about space survival since Apollo 13 or 2001 A Space Odyssey. There no overt political agendas or themes to be had here, just pure high altitude entertainment with a pleasantly adroit message of "it's not enough just to survive, you have to live". That's something us Terrans can always hear more of.
8.5 Dreamy Clooneys out of 10 (GREAT)
The Lords of Salem (2013)
The Lords of Salem (R) - Review
Rob Zombie returns to the director's chair after a successful run as the Halloween franchise's reinventor with a supposed original creation. Unfortunately he cast the lead as his wife Sherri Moon Zombie, who must slowly walk through a dim retelling of Rosemary's Baby by an undead Kubrick clone. Stanley K's "The Shining" mesmerised with shots of hotel hallways, inanimate objects became frightening through shot selection and background music. Zombie tries hard to replicate the magic in The Shining, but is instead treading awfully close to plagiarism rather than perhaps intended homage. The story too, being a gothic-emo-rocknroll retelling of Polanski's Rosemary Baby with pieces of Friedkin's The Exorcist, The Lords of Salem ends up a mash-up potpourri of 1970s Horror Classics with a 1990's Rock Star aesthetic that starts off well enough in the first act but soon just merely goes through the cliches and culminates in a ending whimper that confuses with its sameness.
Rob Zombie obviously wants to be the Tarantino of Horror, but he's sadly without the script writing skill or ability to reinvent rather than reiterate. Sherri's acting (despite the white girl dreadlocked hairdo) is surprisingly passable, although one gets the feeling her performance was constructed in the editing room, the amateurish portions carefully trimmed around. What is surprising was some of the truly surreal and beautiful imagery of the dream sequences that were without fail ruined by terrible practical special effects. Lots of rubber masks, rubber midget suits, rubber tentacles, obvious makeup or puppets, things better left in the VHS hell of the 80s Horror FX. I would never pine for CGI over practical but every effect in LOS looks cheap and terible on film.
With some good veteran actors and a quite good act one, Lords of Salem ends up wasting everyone's time with depressingly derivative story telling and laughably bad special effects. The Art house feel Zombie tried so hard to achieve becomes a nightmare of his own making, showcasing his vast shortcomings as a filmmaker and auteur-to-be.
"The *yawn* Lords of Stale-m"
A female Radio DJ receives a mysterious record that upon playing brings her own personal demons and other evil forces to once again plague her and the citizens of Salem, Massachusetts with witchcraft and Satan worship.
A female Radio DJ receives a mysterious record that upon playing brings her own personal demons and other evil forces to once again plague her and the citizens of Salem, Massachusetts with witchcraft and Satan worship.
Rob Zombie returns to the director's chair after a successful run as the Halloween franchise's reinventor with a supposed original creation. Unfortunately he cast the lead as his wife Sherri Moon Zombie, who must slowly walk through a dim retelling of Rosemary's Baby by an undead Kubrick clone. Stanley K's "The Shining" mesmerised with shots of hotel hallways, inanimate objects became frightening through shot selection and background music. Zombie tries hard to replicate the magic in The Shining, but is instead treading awfully close to plagiarism rather than perhaps intended homage. The story too, being a gothic-emo-rocknroll retelling of Polanski's Rosemary Baby with pieces of Friedkin's The Exorcist, The Lords of Salem ends up a mash-up potpourri of 1970s Horror Classics with a 1990's Rock Star aesthetic that starts off well enough in the first act but soon just merely goes through the cliches and culminates in a ending whimper that confuses with its sameness.
Rob Zombie obviously wants to be the Tarantino of Horror, but he's sadly without the script writing skill or ability to reinvent rather than reiterate. Sherri's acting (despite the white girl dreadlocked hairdo) is surprisingly passable, although one gets the feeling her performance was constructed in the editing room, the amateurish portions carefully trimmed around. What is surprising was some of the truly surreal and beautiful imagery of the dream sequences that were without fail ruined by terrible practical special effects. Lots of rubber masks, rubber midget suits, rubber tentacles, obvious makeup or puppets, things better left in the VHS hell of the 80s Horror FX. I would never pine for CGI over practical but every effect in LOS looks cheap and terible on film.
With some good veteran actors and a quite good act one, Lords of Salem ends up wasting everyone's time with depressingly derivative story telling and laughably bad special effects. The Art house feel Zombie tried so hard to achieve becomes a nightmare of his own making, showcasing his vast shortcomings as a filmmaker and auteur-to-be.
3.5 Anti-Mary's out of 10 (BAD)
Pain and Gain (2013)
Pain and Gain (R) - Review
"Goof Fellas"
The real life story of a Florida based gang of weightlifters who operated under the nose of law enforcement for years is skewed by Director Micheal Bay (The Rock), who lies through his teeth to make an entertaining and offbeat Miami-mafia film starring Mark Wahlberg (Boogie Nights) and Dwayne "Also The Rock" Johnson as the meat headed bungling burglers who prey on victims (a shvitzing Tony Shalhoub) who the police probably wouldn't believe. The actual case files are rife with hard to believe moments, but by telling this story from the gang's perspective, no matter how amped up & exaggerated their antics or how Hollywood-abbreviated their convoluted crimes, it becomes a smack in the face of their real life victims and is the bitterest pill to swallow in Pain and Gain. Shalhoub's victim is portrayed as such an terribly unlikable kvetch and braggart that the gang almost seems justified in robbing and then attempting to kill him, a kind of dayglo white-washing of the facts in the name of character motivation that doesn't sit well in the light of day.
This is especially true when scenarios are made up or evidence is distorted just for the sake of a chuckle (the supposed "true story" aspect of the film is reiterated over and over again during its runtime and yet whole plot points such as the severed toe are completely fictional). Luckily Ed Harris' (also also from The Rock) private dick character is there to calm the flames of exploitation and over acting with his aura of Hawaiian shirt fedora excellence.
While Scorsese let us into and be entertained by Henry Hill's amoral gang he never let us forget, cinematically, that these were seriously dangerous men whom the lead character lived in constant fear of. In Pain and Gain (which owes much of its structure to that mafia film) the crew is so inept and goofy from the juice that they almost come off as absolved of their sins, like a 6 year old who broke a vase and can only smile and shrug to everyone's delight. The Coen's great film Fargo also used the "Based on a True Story," gag but was so evenly paced that it didn't detract. Pain and Gain doesn't even give itself that wiggle room as it is so over the top while loudly calling itself true (it's massive fingers crossed behind its back). Oh, but wasn't it a crazy ride and a laugh in the end so let's gloss over real facts like the gangs actual sinister ingenuity, their subsequent trials and death sentences and concentrate on how funny a coked out dumdum Rock is when he's stressing out Marky Mark again.
The film itself? Humorous chitter chatter between the dismemberments and the vain posturing for the camera work well. It looks like a standard Bay action flick, all gorgeous sunshine and sunglasses. The acting is good, the comradery apparent, the film entertains on the surface while underneath boils a riptide of bad intentions that if they had been ironed out would have resulted in a damn good film and instead allow it all to be sucked under. For Bay the film may Gain but The Pain is reserved for everyone else.
5.5 Sleeveless Spandex Tees out of 10 (MEDIOCRE)
"Goof Fellas"
The real life story of a Florida based gang of weightlifters who operated under the nose of law enforcement for years is skewed by Director Micheal Bay (The Rock), who lies through his teeth to make an entertaining and offbeat Miami-mafia film starring Mark Wahlberg (Boogie Nights) and Dwayne "Also The Rock" Johnson as the meat headed bungling burglers who prey on victims (a shvitzing Tony Shalhoub) who the police probably wouldn't believe. The actual case files are rife with hard to believe moments, but by telling this story from the gang's perspective, no matter how amped up & exaggerated their antics or how Hollywood-abbreviated their convoluted crimes, it becomes a smack in the face of their real life victims and is the bitterest pill to swallow in Pain and Gain. Shalhoub's victim is portrayed as such an terribly unlikable kvetch and braggart that the gang almost seems justified in robbing and then attempting to kill him, a kind of dayglo white-washing of the facts in the name of character motivation that doesn't sit well in the light of day.
This is especially true when scenarios are made up or evidence is distorted just for the sake of a chuckle (the supposed "true story" aspect of the film is reiterated over and over again during its runtime and yet whole plot points such as the severed toe are completely fictional). Luckily Ed Harris' (also also from The Rock) private dick character is there to calm the flames of exploitation and over acting with his aura of Hawaiian shirt fedora excellence.
While Scorsese let us into and be entertained by Henry Hill's amoral gang he never let us forget, cinematically, that these were seriously dangerous men whom the lead character lived in constant fear of. In Pain and Gain (which owes much of its structure to that mafia film) the crew is so inept and goofy from the juice that they almost come off as absolved of their sins, like a 6 year old who broke a vase and can only smile and shrug to everyone's delight. The Coen's great film Fargo also used the "Based on a True Story," gag but was so evenly paced that it didn't detract. Pain and Gain doesn't even give itself that wiggle room as it is so over the top while loudly calling itself true (it's massive fingers crossed behind its back). Oh, but wasn't it a crazy ride and a laugh in the end so let's gloss over real facts like the gangs actual sinister ingenuity, their subsequent trials and death sentences and concentrate on how funny a coked out dumdum Rock is when he's stressing out Marky Mark again.
The film itself? Humorous chitter chatter between the dismemberments and the vain posturing for the camera work well. It looks like a standard Bay action flick, all gorgeous sunshine and sunglasses. The acting is good, the comradery apparent, the film entertains on the surface while underneath boils a riptide of bad intentions that if they had been ironed out would have resulted in a damn good film and instead allow it all to be sucked under. For Bay the film may Gain but The Pain is reserved for everyone else.
5.5 Sleeveless Spandex Tees out of 10 (MEDIOCRE)
The World's End (2013)
The World's End (R) - Review
"You can never go home again (and drink 12 pints)"
Gary, an unrepentant substance abuser, attempts to relive the single best night of his life by reuniting with his old school chums and reattempting "The Golden Mile", a pub crawl in their old hometown that they were unable to finish over 20 years ago. However the cadre has all drifted apart and (besides Gary) all grown up. This is especially true of Andy, he is still quite angry with his old best friend due to an incident involving his past drug use and moneys owed. Somehow convinced by their old leader Gary to meet and drink like the old days, the crew bounces from pub to pub while reminiscing about the bad old days as sinister outside forces begin to coalesce against the boys.
The third (and weakest) in the "Cornetto Trilogy" by filmmakers Simon Pegg, Edgar Wright and Nick Frost (responsible for Shawn of the Dead and Hot Fuzz), The World's End has a completely different tone and construction than the other two entries and therefore ends up the black sheep. While certainly humorous in parts and with a good amount of drunken UK kung-fu brawling (which isn't all that convincing), the overall anger and depression seeped into this tale of alcoholics and bad blood between buddies poisons the already tenuous humor of the situation. Throw in the iffy conspiracy movie trope and you end up with a mish-mashy confused film, very unlike its brethren that each had clear cut targets for their lunacy (Zombie flicks and Hollywood Action flicks respectively). The World's End doesn't know whether to choke back emotions or choke down the next beer from scene to scene. While the other entries in the trilogy start off strong and maintain a comedic momentum through their ludicrous pinball-like plots, The World's End starts off with a severely unfunny intro and then takes another 15-20 minutes before the suds start to flow and the comedy starts to show, and by then the movie is certainly crawling through a conspiracy subplot that while the filmmakers have thoroughly interwoven it can never be full accepted as nessecary to the plot.
While Gary (Simon Pegg) definitely becomes more likable and his selfish mannerisms become a tad more endearing by the 6th pint, he is written as a self destructive self centered mildly amusing alcoholic, and as central to the movie as he is the role is removed from the loveable half-slacker or reclusive procedural bad ass he played in the other two films. The darkness inherent to the character bleeds into the humor and relationships, knocking the overall cinematic greatness down quite a few pegs (haha). On top of that bad pun, the filmmakers have thrived on skewering/homaging famous Hollywood genres, and here the Conspiracy source material just isn't ripe enough, doesn't have a cinematic look to ape and doesn't have it's own cliche's or mythologies to mine that it feels very tacked on and quite a bit tacky. The final confrontation, in fact all the confrontations, just seem cheap and almost an afterthought to all the talking, especially in comparison to how razor sharp and beautifully minutiaed the other films were (let's not even talk about how weak the ending is in TWE). The undertow of black depression fights the theme of anti-homogenization of society for which gets in the way of the funny first.
Thankfully, Nick Frost gets the meaty part here as Andy, the wronged former best friend who is seething with rage and unresolved issues. Normally relegated to the off kilter chubby sidekick, once Andy starts downing drinks and WWF Bionic Elbowing the enemy the movie really starts to pick up. He has the best role here, both emotionally and action heroey, and since Pegg's Gary's shadow is so stunted in TWE Frost is finally able to step out of it and become a force to be reckoned with. Single handedly Nick saves The World's End from total oblivion (just as Andy saves his friends), leaving a half and half, black and tan kind of movie where even though its suds are warm and mostly flat, can still be drunk and gotten some kind of buzz from it. Individual tastes may or may not enjoy the resulting hangover.
5.5 Marmalade Sandwiches out of 10 (MEDIOCRE)
"You can never go home again (and drink 12 pints)"
Gary, an unrepentant substance abuser, attempts to relive the single best night of his life by reuniting with his old school chums and reattempting "The Golden Mile", a pub crawl in their old hometown that they were unable to finish over 20 years ago. However the cadre has all drifted apart and (besides Gary) all grown up. This is especially true of Andy, he is still quite angry with his old best friend due to an incident involving his past drug use and moneys owed. Somehow convinced by their old leader Gary to meet and drink like the old days, the crew bounces from pub to pub while reminiscing about the bad old days as sinister outside forces begin to coalesce against the boys.
The third (and weakest) in the "Cornetto Trilogy" by filmmakers Simon Pegg, Edgar Wright and Nick Frost (responsible for Shawn of the Dead and Hot Fuzz), The World's End has a completely different tone and construction than the other two entries and therefore ends up the black sheep. While certainly humorous in parts and with a good amount of drunken UK kung-fu brawling (which isn't all that convincing), the overall anger and depression seeped into this tale of alcoholics and bad blood between buddies poisons the already tenuous humor of the situation. Throw in the iffy conspiracy movie trope and you end up with a mish-mashy confused film, very unlike its brethren that each had clear cut targets for their lunacy (Zombie flicks and Hollywood Action flicks respectively). The World's End doesn't know whether to choke back emotions or choke down the next beer from scene to scene. While the other entries in the trilogy start off strong and maintain a comedic momentum through their ludicrous pinball-like plots, The World's End starts off with a severely unfunny intro and then takes another 15-20 minutes before the suds start to flow and the comedy starts to show, and by then the movie is certainly crawling through a conspiracy subplot that while the filmmakers have thoroughly interwoven it can never be full accepted as nessecary to the plot.
While Gary (Simon Pegg) definitely becomes more likable and his selfish mannerisms become a tad more endearing by the 6th pint, he is written as a self destructive self centered mildly amusing alcoholic, and as central to the movie as he is the role is removed from the loveable half-slacker or reclusive procedural bad ass he played in the other two films. The darkness inherent to the character bleeds into the humor and relationships, knocking the overall cinematic greatness down quite a few pegs (haha). On top of that bad pun, the filmmakers have thrived on skewering/homaging famous Hollywood genres, and here the Conspiracy source material just isn't ripe enough, doesn't have a cinematic look to ape and doesn't have it's own cliche's or mythologies to mine that it feels very tacked on and quite a bit tacky. The final confrontation, in fact all the confrontations, just seem cheap and almost an afterthought to all the talking, especially in comparison to how razor sharp and beautifully minutiaed the other films were (let's not even talk about how weak the ending is in TWE). The undertow of black depression fights the theme of anti-homogenization of society for which gets in the way of the funny first.
Thankfully, Nick Frost gets the meaty part here as Andy, the wronged former best friend who is seething with rage and unresolved issues. Normally relegated to the off kilter chubby sidekick, once Andy starts downing drinks and WWF Bionic Elbowing the enemy the movie really starts to pick up. He has the best role here, both emotionally and action heroey, and since Pegg's Gary's shadow is so stunted in TWE Frost is finally able to step out of it and become a force to be reckoned with. Single handedly Nick saves The World's End from total oblivion (just as Andy saves his friends), leaving a half and half, black and tan kind of movie where even though its suds are warm and mostly flat, can still be drunk and gotten some kind of buzz from it. Individual tastes may or may not enjoy the resulting hangover.
5.5 Marmalade Sandwiches out of 10 (MEDIOCRE)
Kick-Ass 2 (2013)
Kick-Ass 2 (R) Review
"The Watchmen for Teens, kinda."
Picking up where the original left off, this world of super heroes and villians isn't one with radioactive sludge granting powers or genetic mutations with spiky hair, it's just bored individuals needing an outlet for themselves that lead them to don masks and spandex and pick funny names. The most severe case of this is Chris, son of a mob boss who's father was killed by KickAss to end the first film; he now accidentally kills his own mother, thus taking over the empire and reinventing himself as "The MotherF---er" to track down and avenge his father's death. HitGirl, after being guilted into giving up the vengance game, is trying to fit in with the popular girls at school while Kick Ass joins a team of self made super heroes that he unknowingly inspired, it's all a rather mundane retread of the first flick that doesn't go anywhere groundbreaking, lacking the originality and spunk that drove the first knife home so cleanly.
The entire cast returns for the sequel (those that survived anyway, who knew campy Nic Cage's Big Daddy would be so sorely missed), but the director does not, leading to a change in the clarity of the action and subversive tone of the picture that is almost it's down fall. The crass punk rock teenage agnst of the first is replaced with Disney channel drama and watered down hiphop posturing. The script also feels like an unfortunate spinoff of HitGirl that at the last minute was merged with a KickAss story; the now overgrown "15 year old" assassin is trying out for cheerleading and trying to avoid looking her age. Mindy has a few great moments again, but it's the MFer who steals the show this time out. While HitGirl is sitting on her Ass and KickAss's family friendly team dubiously do good, MFer rediscovers himself by forming a fun little cadre of evil doers and psychos who begin hunting and persecuting all of Kick-Ass's teammates and loved ones, most violently by female behemoth Mother Russia. This is in contrast to Kick-Ass who has somehow lost his balls between the two movies, needing endless training and taking little action until his father is in fact killed by The MFer, finally leading to a final showdown between diving suit good and leather strapped evil.
The great panels are few and far between, it doesn't have the vicious bite of the source books, it comes with a cheaper production value with obviously less fore thought of the first incarnation, Jim Carrey even disavowed his performance prerelease, but somehow the core idea's brilliance still outweighs the often flawed execution, never leading to an outright THUD on the screen.
6 Flying Lawnmowers out of 10 (GOOD)
"The Watchmen for Teens, kinda."
Picking up where the original left off, this world of super heroes and villians isn't one with radioactive sludge granting powers or genetic mutations with spiky hair, it's just bored individuals needing an outlet for themselves that lead them to don masks and spandex and pick funny names. The most severe case of this is Chris, son of a mob boss who's father was killed by KickAss to end the first film; he now accidentally kills his own mother, thus taking over the empire and reinventing himself as "The MotherF---er" to track down and avenge his father's death. HitGirl, after being guilted into giving up the vengance game, is trying to fit in with the popular girls at school while Kick Ass joins a team of self made super heroes that he unknowingly inspired, it's all a rather mundane retread of the first flick that doesn't go anywhere groundbreaking, lacking the originality and spunk that drove the first knife home so cleanly.
The entire cast returns for the sequel (those that survived anyway, who knew campy Nic Cage's Big Daddy would be so sorely missed), but the director does not, leading to a change in the clarity of the action and subversive tone of the picture that is almost it's down fall. The crass punk rock teenage agnst of the first is replaced with Disney channel drama and watered down hiphop posturing. The script also feels like an unfortunate spinoff of HitGirl that at the last minute was merged with a KickAss story; the now overgrown "15 year old" assassin is trying out for cheerleading and trying to avoid looking her age. Mindy has a few great moments again, but it's the MFer who steals the show this time out. While HitGirl is sitting on her Ass and KickAss's family friendly team dubiously do good, MFer rediscovers himself by forming a fun little cadre of evil doers and psychos who begin hunting and persecuting all of Kick-Ass's teammates and loved ones, most violently by female behemoth Mother Russia. This is in contrast to Kick-Ass who has somehow lost his balls between the two movies, needing endless training and taking little action until his father is in fact killed by The MFer, finally leading to a final showdown between diving suit good and leather strapped evil.
The great panels are few and far between, it doesn't have the vicious bite of the source books, it comes with a cheaper production value with obviously less fore thought of the first incarnation, Jim Carrey even disavowed his performance prerelease, but somehow the core idea's brilliance still outweighs the often flawed execution, never leading to an outright THUD on the screen.
6 Flying Lawnmowers out of 10 (GOOD)
Elysium (2013)
Elysium (PG-13) - Review
"More Cyber-Junk than Cyber-Punk"
Not content with the Racial equality parable of District 9, director Neill Blomkamp turns his sites on Mexican-American immigration reform for this overwhelmingly underwhelming SciFi snoozer starring Mat Damon as Max, a misunderstood misanthrope in a brown man's world with only days to live and interplanetary habitats to reach and get magically healed by.
Blomkamp sticks with the bluecollar ethos that made D9 so successful, albeit this time with a Hollywood megastar and a bunch of thinly veiled stabs at US foreign policy, immigration policy, Blackwater soldiering and corporational politics. You see everyone up in the Orbital station known as Elysium gets free unlimited magical health care pods (wasn't that also in Prometheus, and what the GOP doesn't want?), and only the richest get to buy a ticket to live there. Everyone on Earth lives and works and gets cancer in Big Mexico (whats left of SoCal), the Elysium people just send down robots and shuttle pods to keep the Have Nots under control. Then comes Max, a former car thief now reformed factory worker who dreams of one day taking the ride up to Elysium but when Max gets filled with radiation at work due to workplace neglicence (Workman's comp apparently also is only available on Elysium) he must now reach the station and maybe change the situations of millions of his Earthbound brethern.
Every on Earth speaks Spanish and English, while everyone in orbit speaks English and French and attends lawn parties all day and don't work. How this economy is sustained, what is the basis of law and order and the constitution, why humans (rich and poor) would totally submit to robotic computer control that can be changed with a couple of lines of C++ are all questions that go unanswered in Elysium. The film is a very thin premise stretched to only an hour and a half, with no big action movie payoffs to stave off the eye rolling shmaltz. Jodie Foster retains the current Queen of SciFi status with her role as Space Margret Thatcher, who explodes refugee boats with impunity and will implement a coup if anyone argues with her strangely over acted weirdly dubbed space accent. She hires Kruger (Sharlto Copley, the hero of District 9) as her blackops monster, and his miscasting in the role is just outright terrible. Sharlto's bad guy wears a exoskeleton, wears fur blankets, sneers and bumbles along waving a samurai sword in the worst kind of SyFy Tv special cliche (use a gun jack hole!). It's not his fault, its the script, written by Blomkamp, which is such a drastic reversal from District 9's hopeful breakout. The story is so filled with holes (like the Spider character however), so many wretchedly nauseating flash backs to the golden years of youth, so many "why would he do that, why would that happen" moments, so much promise of Cyber-punk body modification and human/computer scientific theory so mishandled and without gravitas it feels the scriptwriter doesn't even understand the basics of the genre and also so without the clear clean visuals of D9 that are instead replaced with a shaky action cam so shoddy as to make the late great Tony Scott snort in derision. Mostly the script is so narrow minded, it so sorely lacks a large enough scope, the film's promise so sadly unfulfilled and the entire film such a large step down from his fresh faced freshman film that Blomkamp's Elysium appears to have made the Sophomore mistake of waking up late with a face full of zits, not combing it's hair and blinking for its school picture in comparison (don't expect a nomination for best dressed or most likely to succeed for either of them).
3 Did I Really Believe Lockout's SciFi More? out of 10 (BAD)
"More Cyber-Junk than Cyber-Punk"
Not content with the Racial equality parable of District 9, director Neill Blomkamp turns his sites on Mexican-American immigration reform for this overwhelmingly underwhelming SciFi snoozer starring Mat Damon as Max, a misunderstood misanthrope in a brown man's world with only days to live and interplanetary habitats to reach and get magically healed by.
Blomkamp sticks with the bluecollar ethos that made D9 so successful, albeit this time with a Hollywood megastar and a bunch of thinly veiled stabs at US foreign policy, immigration policy, Blackwater soldiering and corporational politics. You see everyone up in the Orbital station known as Elysium gets free unlimited magical health care pods (wasn't that also in Prometheus, and what the GOP doesn't want?), and only the richest get to buy a ticket to live there. Everyone on Earth lives and works and gets cancer in Big Mexico (whats left of SoCal), the Elysium people just send down robots and shuttle pods to keep the Have Nots under control. Then comes Max, a former car thief now reformed factory worker who dreams of one day taking the ride up to Elysium but when Max gets filled with radiation at work due to workplace neglicence (Workman's comp apparently also is only available on Elysium) he must now reach the station and maybe change the situations of millions of his Earthbound brethern.
Every on Earth speaks Spanish and English, while everyone in orbit speaks English and French and attends lawn parties all day and don't work. How this economy is sustained, what is the basis of law and order and the constitution, why humans (rich and poor) would totally submit to robotic computer control that can be changed with a couple of lines of C++ are all questions that go unanswered in Elysium. The film is a very thin premise stretched to only an hour and a half, with no big action movie payoffs to stave off the eye rolling shmaltz. Jodie Foster retains the current Queen of SciFi status with her role as Space Margret Thatcher, who explodes refugee boats with impunity and will implement a coup if anyone argues with her strangely over acted weirdly dubbed space accent. She hires Kruger (Sharlto Copley, the hero of District 9) as her blackops monster, and his miscasting in the role is just outright terrible. Sharlto's bad guy wears a exoskeleton, wears fur blankets, sneers and bumbles along waving a samurai sword in the worst kind of SyFy Tv special cliche (use a gun jack hole!). It's not his fault, its the script, written by Blomkamp, which is such a drastic reversal from District 9's hopeful breakout. The story is so filled with holes (like the Spider character however), so many wretchedly nauseating flash backs to the golden years of youth, so many "why would he do that, why would that happen" moments, so much promise of Cyber-punk body modification and human/computer scientific theory so mishandled and without gravitas it feels the scriptwriter doesn't even understand the basics of the genre and also so without the clear clean visuals of D9 that are instead replaced with a shaky action cam so shoddy as to make the late great Tony Scott snort in derision. Mostly the script is so narrow minded, it so sorely lacks a large enough scope, the film's promise so sadly unfulfilled and the entire film such a large step down from his fresh faced freshman film that Blomkamp's Elysium appears to have made the Sophomore mistake of waking up late with a face full of zits, not combing it's hair and blinking for its school picture in comparison (don't expect a nomination for best dressed or most likely to succeed for either of them).
3 Did I Really Believe Lockout's SciFi More? out of 10 (BAD)
The Wolverine (2013)
The Wolverine (PG-13) - Review
"Down boy, Down! Heel!"
The Wolverine of the comics is a lovably gruff anti-hero, one of the first and longest lasting (cuz he's the best at what he does). The Wolverine of the movies is a lovably gruff hero, and that sanitization of the characters "anti" is where the fun bleeds out. Based upon the Frank Miller miniseries that first bore his name, The Wolverine mostly takes place in stylish Japan, with the Hairy One being down in the dumps and then becoming enmeshed in a family dispute over succession of business and honor, all the while wearing as few shirts as possible and protecting a lovely Japanese princess, er, I mean daughter, from her blood thirsty family and showing how big your arm veins can get.
Unfortunately Japan is just a set piece for played out and too frantic action sequences that get sliced in every 15 minutes or so. The fact that Logan's healing factor has been neutralized only leads to a scene whose only shock factor is how blatantly they rip off Prometheus. The rest, with silly robotic Samurai and ninja's whose only mystery is their motivation, the bad guy attempts to remove Wolvie's claws for some reason and the Yakuza mindlessly get themselves killed, it is all just thrown at us in a hope that something will please us more than Wolverine Origins (hint, anything would have to be). There are a lot of Wolverine comic stories and themes to choose from (Weapon X would have also been a good choice); this particular one should have been about being an outsider (specifically a "gaijin") in another country, falling in love with culture and its nuances (and ladies), and being a hairy man with kick ass claws in 1970s Japan. Instead we get the same old slice to Hugh Jackman's face that slowly heals sans blood and Adamantium "sharpest/hardest on Earth" claws that a sword can parry that just happens to take place in Japan this time. This isn't the Canuckle Head's best outing, but then again a LOT of his comic stories aren't great either, he's a hard character to get right and not be silly. At least this time around it was bonafide story about Wolverine, even if he was having quite a bad hair day.
5.5 SNICKTs out of 10 (MEDICORE)
"Down boy, Down! Heel!"
The Wolverine of the comics is a lovably gruff anti-hero, one of the first and longest lasting (cuz he's the best at what he does). The Wolverine of the movies is a lovably gruff hero, and that sanitization of the characters "anti" is where the fun bleeds out. Based upon the Frank Miller miniseries that first bore his name, The Wolverine mostly takes place in stylish Japan, with the Hairy One being down in the dumps and then becoming enmeshed in a family dispute over succession of business and honor, all the while wearing as few shirts as possible and protecting a lovely Japanese princess, er, I mean daughter, from her blood thirsty family and showing how big your arm veins can get.
Unfortunately Japan is just a set piece for played out and too frantic action sequences that get sliced in every 15 minutes or so. The fact that Logan's healing factor has been neutralized only leads to a scene whose only shock factor is how blatantly they rip off Prometheus. The rest, with silly robotic Samurai and ninja's whose only mystery is their motivation, the bad guy attempts to remove Wolvie's claws for some reason and the Yakuza mindlessly get themselves killed, it is all just thrown at us in a hope that something will please us more than Wolverine Origins (hint, anything would have to be). There are a lot of Wolverine comic stories and themes to choose from (Weapon X would have also been a good choice); this particular one should have been about being an outsider (specifically a "gaijin") in another country, falling in love with culture and its nuances (and ladies), and being a hairy man with kick ass claws in 1970s Japan. Instead we get the same old slice to Hugh Jackman's face that slowly heals sans blood and Adamantium "sharpest/hardest on Earth" claws that a sword can parry that just happens to take place in Japan this time. This isn't the Canuckle Head's best outing, but then again a LOT of his comic stories aren't great either, he's a hard character to get right and not be silly. At least this time around it was bonafide story about Wolverine, even if he was having quite a bad hair day.
5.5 SNICKTs out of 10 (MEDICORE)
Snowpiercer (2013)
Snowpiercer (R) - Review
"Goin' off the rails on a Crazy Train!"
Adapted (apparently somewhat loosely) from an obscure early 1980s French graphic novel and directed by acclaimed Korean director Bong Joon-Ho (The Host), Snowpiercer is his first English effort and tells the supremely strange tale of a train populated with the last of humanity in a frozen alternate Earth and the struggle of the rear passengers for a better life. Chris Evans (Capt America) and John Hurt (Alien) lead the abject slaves of the rear cars on a revolt against draconian segregation and abysmal living conditions that the trains staff (lead by typecast sourpuss Tilda Swinton) and the train's creator (a malevolent Ed Harris) have forced upon them. How they got there and where they go is Snowpiercer's tale to tell, but overall it may not be worth the ticket to ride.
There is little background to explain the situation of these underprivileged-come-they-represent-us-on-the-train-of-life, just that an experimental form of fighting global warming with chem-trails has left the Earth a lifeless tundra, and that an unstoppable train that runs throughout the entire world contains the sum total of humanity. Preposterous as it sounds (and it remains), the premise is in fact the biggest asset to the film. The emotions are misplaced, CGI is slipshod and cheap, the action sequences oddly misguided, the cartoonishly over the top front cars betray the stark horror and gritty realism of the rear cars. Surprises and great moments await those who wish to board, but the message of the film may have been lost in one of the translations, what with the rightwing/leftwing conspiracy theories and 99%/1% class warfare that has gone from French to Korean to English. What was lost seems to have been a clarity of thought, clearness in action and distilled complexity that is sadly missing from such an intriguingly bizarre unHollywood premise, for the movie often barrels the train into very Hollywood-like territory (perhaps Weinstein was right to call for more editing, if handled well). Still, the uniqueness is omnipresent and there are undeniable moments of greatness, especially for fans of WTF-OLs and sci fi action. There's just not enough of it to toot it's own horn.
6 Slow Motion Fish Axe Moments out of 10 (GOOD)
"Goin' off the rails on a Crazy Train!"
Adapted (apparently somewhat loosely) from an obscure early 1980s French graphic novel and directed by acclaimed Korean director Bong Joon-Ho (The Host), Snowpiercer is his first English effort and tells the supremely strange tale of a train populated with the last of humanity in a frozen alternate Earth and the struggle of the rear passengers for a better life. Chris Evans (Capt America) and John Hurt (Alien) lead the abject slaves of the rear cars on a revolt against draconian segregation and abysmal living conditions that the trains staff (lead by typecast sourpuss Tilda Swinton) and the train's creator (a malevolent Ed Harris) have forced upon them. How they got there and where they go is Snowpiercer's tale to tell, but overall it may not be worth the ticket to ride.
There is little background to explain the situation of these underprivileged-come-they-represent-us-on-the-train-of-life, just that an experimental form of fighting global warming with chem-trails has left the Earth a lifeless tundra, and that an unstoppable train that runs throughout the entire world contains the sum total of humanity. Preposterous as it sounds (and it remains), the premise is in fact the biggest asset to the film. The emotions are misplaced, CGI is slipshod and cheap, the action sequences oddly misguided, the cartoonishly over the top front cars betray the stark horror and gritty realism of the rear cars. Surprises and great moments await those who wish to board, but the message of the film may have been lost in one of the translations, what with the rightwing/leftwing conspiracy theories and 99%/1% class warfare that has gone from French to Korean to English. What was lost seems to have been a clarity of thought, clearness in action and distilled complexity that is sadly missing from such an intriguingly bizarre unHollywood premise, for the movie often barrels the train into very Hollywood-like territory (perhaps Weinstein was right to call for more editing, if handled well). Still, the uniqueness is omnipresent and there are undeniable moments of greatness, especially for fans of WTF-OLs and sci fi action. There's just not enough of it to toot it's own horn.
6 Slow Motion Fish Axe Moments out of 10 (GOOD)
The Counselor (2013)
The Counselor (R)
"What would the BAR Association say?"
The first script from the pen of author Cormack McCarthy (author of the novel No Country For Old Men) is a head scratching affair. Directed by the venerable yet wildly uneven Ridley Scott (Bladerunner), there is the expected energy and pop to the filmed scenes. A-list actors lead by Michael Fasbender, Brad Pitt, Javier Bardem, Penelope Cruz and Cameron Diaz (miscast as a Jamaican femme fatale) culminate in one the years best casts, and yet the words fall flat. The snappy Noir prose style is leaden, the situations preposterous, the outcome dreary. The story? Fasbender plays a successful Texas lawyer, whose shady client base draw him into the south of the border drug smuggling business to maximize his profits. The house of cards is shaken by the backstabbing, golddigging Diaz, a character so over-sexualized, so misplaced, so supposedly evils-of-woman-incarnate/female-of-the-species-is-more-deadly that she could only come from the pen of a mid-life-crisis fever dream. Some scenes work, some shock to righteous effect, most collapse under the heavy weight of pretension. A freak show of many unique sights and sounds, but you may regret the two-bits to get in.
4.5 New Definition of Car Sex out of 10 (MEDIOCRE)
"What would the BAR Association say?"
The first script from the pen of author Cormack McCarthy (author of the novel No Country For Old Men) is a head scratching affair. Directed by the venerable yet wildly uneven Ridley Scott (Bladerunner), there is the expected energy and pop to the filmed scenes. A-list actors lead by Michael Fasbender, Brad Pitt, Javier Bardem, Penelope Cruz and Cameron Diaz (miscast as a Jamaican femme fatale) culminate in one the years best casts, and yet the words fall flat. The snappy Noir prose style is leaden, the situations preposterous, the outcome dreary. The story? Fasbender plays a successful Texas lawyer, whose shady client base draw him into the south of the border drug smuggling business to maximize his profits. The house of cards is shaken by the backstabbing, golddigging Diaz, a character so over-sexualized, so misplaced, so supposedly evils-of-woman-incarnate/female-of-the-species-is-more-deadly that she could only come from the pen of a mid-life-crisis fever dream. Some scenes work, some shock to righteous effect, most collapse under the heavy weight of pretension. A freak show of many unique sights and sounds, but you may regret the two-bits to get in.
4.5 New Definition of Car Sex out of 10 (MEDIOCRE)
Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues (2013)
Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues (PG-13)
"Sequel fails to deliver, news at 11"
The Action News Team returns to the dawning of the 80s in this unwise sequel to the strange comedy gold that was the sexy sexist 70s. This time they are joining a new 24hour cycle cable-news network, and Ron finds almost immediate success as an empty-air anchor, doing light breezy humanitarian stories that fill up the hours. Unfortunately the jokes and off-the-cuff humor isn't as successful. Whole plot lines feel like last-minute brain-storms (Ron is racist at dinner, Ron goes blind, Ron works at Seaworld!), and if the jokes landed we'd be more ok with that. The sequel feels more like Ron's solo movie than the comedy team work that was a well-oiled, very odd comedy gold machine last flick. Brick (Steve Carrell) gets a girlfriend, but Champ and Brian are both sidelined. Starts off funny but it soon fades, has very little of the lunatic creativity of the original, put down the scotch and change the channel.
4 Thrown Burritos out of 10 (BAD)
"Sequel fails to deliver, news at 11"
The Action News Team returns to the dawning of the 80s in this unwise sequel to the strange comedy gold that was the sexy sexist 70s. This time they are joining a new 24hour cycle cable-news network, and Ron finds almost immediate success as an empty-air anchor, doing light breezy humanitarian stories that fill up the hours. Unfortunately the jokes and off-the-cuff humor isn't as successful. Whole plot lines feel like last-minute brain-storms (Ron is racist at dinner, Ron goes blind, Ron works at Seaworld!), and if the jokes landed we'd be more ok with that. The sequel feels more like Ron's solo movie than the comedy team work that was a well-oiled, very odd comedy gold machine last flick. Brick (Steve Carrell) gets a girlfriend, but Champ and Brian are both sidelined. Starts off funny but it soon fades, has very little of the lunatic creativity of the original, put down the scotch and change the channel.
4 Thrown Burritos out of 10 (BAD)
Inside Llewyn Davis (2013)
Inside Llewyn Davis (R)
"Assholes are like Elbows"
A textured look into the lives on the folk-singing scene of 1960's Greenwich village told as only the Coen Brothers can. Llewyn is a talented, unsuccessful singer song writer couch surfing his way through obscurity. He bums rides, beds, cigarettes and spotlights from his fellow New Yorkers, brushing elbows (and greatness) with the likes of Bob Dylan. He is an insufferable fellow, unpleasant and narrowly selfish, a true starving artist who makes those around him also suffer the pangs.
Llewyn Davis is sometimes an over-the-top loathsome person, seemingly rude and uncaring. His lovers despise him and curse his name, those that take him into their homes are rewarded with lost family pets and tirades at the dinner table. Inspired by the autobiography of singer Van Ronk (one of Dylan's inspirations and fellow Village player), the movie is not a recreation but an artistic allegory about the soul of the universal struggling artist. He plays beautifully but without his deceased singing partner no one listens. His record producer is a skinflint with a guilty face, a roadtrip to Chicago to audition for the greats is a gloomy forboding affair, his attempts to quit the musical life are a fruitless endeavor. Llewyn is fated to go unrecognized and unloved, forever trekking through the slush and snow in hole-filled shoes lugging his records and guitar from couch to couch.
Masterfully envisioned and executed by the Coen Brothers (Fargo, No Country), this is one of their perfect films if you have the right ears to hear its dulcet tones. Their most invisibly surreal and foreboding film since Barton Fink (which also includes the great John Goodman, here as the music scene's Jazz conscience come to pass judgement), Llewyn is cloaked in a mantle of self-loathing that is thick with artistic unfulfillment (which only the curmudgeonly Coens can pull off while still being critical and box office darlings). The visuals are their strongest yet most subtle, the film sticks with you. The music is wonderfully rich and period specific, with a full range of Folk covered (from sell out comedy to protest impotency). Seriously cemented in the Coen's underground oeuvre of self depreciation, Llewyn Davis hits some notes sour with a purpose, tweaks the strings of anti-sentimentalism, blows hard and stomps its feet yet performs no encores, all told through the perceptions of a man fated to repeat himself endlessly, chasing the suppers he can sing for.
9 Orange Tabby Cats out of 10 (OUTSTANDING)
"Assholes are like Elbows"
A textured look into the lives on the folk-singing scene of 1960's Greenwich village told as only the Coen Brothers can. Llewyn is a talented, unsuccessful singer song writer couch surfing his way through obscurity. He bums rides, beds, cigarettes and spotlights from his fellow New Yorkers, brushing elbows (and greatness) with the likes of Bob Dylan. He is an insufferable fellow, unpleasant and narrowly selfish, a true starving artist who makes those around him also suffer the pangs.
Llewyn Davis is sometimes an over-the-top loathsome person, seemingly rude and uncaring. His lovers despise him and curse his name, those that take him into their homes are rewarded with lost family pets and tirades at the dinner table. Inspired by the autobiography of singer Van Ronk (one of Dylan's inspirations and fellow Village player), the movie is not a recreation but an artistic allegory about the soul of the universal struggling artist. He plays beautifully but without his deceased singing partner no one listens. His record producer is a skinflint with a guilty face, a roadtrip to Chicago to audition for the greats is a gloomy forboding affair, his attempts to quit the musical life are a fruitless endeavor. Llewyn is fated to go unrecognized and unloved, forever trekking through the slush and snow in hole-filled shoes lugging his records and guitar from couch to couch.
Masterfully envisioned and executed by the Coen Brothers (Fargo, No Country), this is one of their perfect films if you have the right ears to hear its dulcet tones. Their most invisibly surreal and foreboding film since Barton Fink (which also includes the great John Goodman, here as the music scene's Jazz conscience come to pass judgement), Llewyn is cloaked in a mantle of self-loathing that is thick with artistic unfulfillment (which only the curmudgeonly Coens can pull off while still being critical and box office darlings). The visuals are their strongest yet most subtle, the film sticks with you. The music is wonderfully rich and period specific, with a full range of Folk covered (from sell out comedy to protest impotency). Seriously cemented in the Coen's underground oeuvre of self depreciation, Llewyn Davis hits some notes sour with a purpose, tweaks the strings of anti-sentimentalism, blows hard and stomps its feet yet performs no encores, all told through the perceptions of a man fated to repeat himself endlessly, chasing the suppers he can sing for.
9 Orange Tabby Cats out of 10 (OUTSTANDING)
Star Trek Into Darkness (2013)
Star Trek Into Darkness (PG-13)
Kirk and company, who now are adventuring (ripping off) their own adventures, find themselves face to face with a familiar old foe: Bad Screenwriting in JJ Abrams sophomoric sequel to the reboot of a classic franchise.
All the stars return to their roles, and the new bad guy is the new-hot-thing Benedict Cumberbatch filling the role once played by Ricardo Montebon, the genetically superior and evil Khan. Now, this isn't Khan any more than Quinto is Spock, but the unfortunate casting can easily be misconstrued as whitewashing if it wasn't for Cho (a Korean) who is still playing Sulu (who is Japanese). No, it's just Hollywood filling roles with the "most famous one we can get," and even though Pine is actually a great choice for Kirk he still suffers from the Boy Band quality of the cast. Benedict himself was lauded for his performance, which is baffling considering the mans strangely flared nostrils and glossy emo hair. But the casting really isn't what is wrong with Star Trek Into Darkness.
It's that it isn't Star Trek. The post 9-11, drone-scared fearmongering warlords are strong with this one. If someone had shown me clips and told me it was a film of the video game Halo it would have been believable. What isn't believable is the exploitation of the best Trek film, ST2: Wrath of Khan, to fuel this mishmash of a hot garbage bonfire. It's all twisted beyond reproach to entertain an audience who apparently doesn't know that adding some lens flares, parkour and pew pew lasers doesn't make a franchise better. And the old switcheroo that happens at the end, with its prolonged prerequisite internet famous"KHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAN" yell that almost rivals Darth Vaders "NOOOOOOOOOOoooo" in laugh generation, is all null and void thanks to the amazing miracle jelly that was injected into Shatner's toupee a reel back for some damn reason, damnit Jim I'm a Doctor not a Script-Doctor! Having reasonably enjoyed the first installment despite it's glaring flaws did not give permission to go hog wild with the canon JJ (despite what the suits and yes men and George Lucas' neck's told you).
These are the people in charge of SciFi films for decades to come, making these descisions, making more sequels and starting new franchises (and dabbling in other venerated ones). Spock's Brain wept.
2 Spock Punching a Guy?! Where's the Vulcan Nerve Pinch, DUH!?!? out of 10 (AWFUL)
Kirk and company, who now are adventuring (ripping off) their own adventures, find themselves face to face with a familiar old foe: Bad Screenwriting in JJ Abrams sophomoric sequel to the reboot of a classic franchise.
All the stars return to their roles, and the new bad guy is the new-hot-thing Benedict Cumberbatch filling the role once played by Ricardo Montebon, the genetically superior and evil Khan. Now, this isn't Khan any more than Quinto is Spock, but the unfortunate casting can easily be misconstrued as whitewashing if it wasn't for Cho (a Korean) who is still playing Sulu (who is Japanese). No, it's just Hollywood filling roles with the "most famous one we can get," and even though Pine is actually a great choice for Kirk he still suffers from the Boy Band quality of the cast. Benedict himself was lauded for his performance, which is baffling considering the mans strangely flared nostrils and glossy emo hair. But the casting really isn't what is wrong with Star Trek Into Darkness.
It's that it isn't Star Trek. The post 9-11, drone-scared fearmongering warlords are strong with this one. If someone had shown me clips and told me it was a film of the video game Halo it would have been believable. What isn't believable is the exploitation of the best Trek film, ST2: Wrath of Khan, to fuel this mishmash of a hot garbage bonfire. It's all twisted beyond reproach to entertain an audience who apparently doesn't know that adding some lens flares, parkour and pew pew lasers doesn't make a franchise better. And the old switcheroo that happens at the end, with its prolonged prerequisite internet famous"KHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAN" yell that almost rivals Darth Vaders "NOOOOOOOOOOoooo" in laugh generation, is all null and void thanks to the amazing miracle jelly that was injected into Shatner's toupee a reel back for some damn reason, damnit Jim I'm a Doctor not a Script-Doctor! Having reasonably enjoyed the first installment despite it's glaring flaws did not give permission to go hog wild with the canon JJ (despite what the suits and yes men and George Lucas' neck's told you).
These are the people in charge of SciFi films for decades to come, making these descisions, making more sequels and starting new franchises (and dabbling in other venerated ones). Spock's Brain wept.
2 Spock Punching a Guy?! Where's the Vulcan Nerve Pinch, DUH!?!? out of 10 (AWFUL)
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About Me
- Kevin Gasaway via HardDrawn
- Turlock, California, United States
- Media and Reviews by Kevin Gasaway