Logan (R)
"Bezereker Barrag... wait let me get my cane"
In the not so distant future the last remaining mutants struggle to survive in their old age, but when a new conspiracy falls in their laps with a new threat uncovered, a sickly Wolverine and a mentally unstable Professor X must travel across America's future landscape with a mutant-cloned daughter in tow to rescue their own race's perpetuation in Director James Mangold (Cop Land), stylized Logan.
Hailed as Hugh Jackman's final turn as the adamantium infused anti-hero Wolverine, Logan is a strange farewell to the star that helped reignite the current comic book movie craze. He anchored the now-loopy X-Men (2000) film and franchise that has seen many a high and low since, but it was his portrayal of the iconic Wolverine that was it's centerpiece attraction; a cage fighting, cigar chomping loner without a past and a serious attitude problem. As a character his story has gone through several convolutions, some Good (X2), Bad (X3) and Ugly (Xmen Origins), but now the most surprising wrinkle is how it all ends. Or, put less obliquely, how Fox has allowed it to end.
Directed and written by Mangold, Logan doesn't say much about the reluctant X-Man that we already didn't know; he's grumpy and sick of being alive (except he's also now a pill popping alcoholic). These themes are well worn by Jackman and Mangold, their previous collaboration (2013's The Wolverine) somewhat explored this side of the character to somewhat clunky results. And now instead of a Japanese motif the American West is the dusty fuel in this film's veins. Logan not only dips his hairy toes into the Western but the actual movie plays as a huge homage to one of the genre's most famous entries, Shane (1953). It's a strange idea for a mash-up, and it isn't the film's only weird foray. Touched upon are the institutional death of the small town American farmer as brought about by the meddling GMO corporations that are villainously tampering with our genetic code through corn syrup. Yes, corn syrup is another odd backbone in this film's rather strange story skeleton. Also a dying Wolverine isn't the funnest Wolverine, his staggering fight choreography and limping action sequences are not the limelight, and yet the pain inflicted and wrought in a lifetime of snikts also aren't called back upon. It comes through as a one-off story, completely divorced from any other X-movie, like a trip to the depression dimension with ol' Bluehair. These kinds of things are the norm in the books, but at the cinema it's new territory and is a ballsy choice for Fox.
So is the scary prospect of Professor Xavier with a diseased brain, out of control and off his meds. It becomes the most interesting plot point, he's a ticking time bomb in a wheelchair. Played again by Patrick Stewart, he is also bringing his presence in the Xmovies to a close and almost steals the whole show. Not only are his wide ranging super powered seizures frightening, but his hollow eyed grief and grandfatherly stubbornness give his co-star Jackman a true emotional motivation. Comedy writer Stephen Merchant's role as the albino tracker Caliban came as a great surprise as well. Then follows other great strong dystopian Sci-Fi touches to the franchise, like a conglomerate creating it's own test subjects in third world countries and using nefariously violent means to control them with it's bio-mechanically enhanced mercenaries called Reavers lead by Donald Pierce (played with delightful gold-toothed malice Boyd Holbrook). Just the "slightly in the future" design of the vehicles in Logan is also a nice touch. The X-Men have never strayed so close reality, to true gritty Science Fiction as they do here and it is much to it's benefit. Also included are several new mutants, all young children escaping the Reavers which include Wolverine's clone-daughter Laura X-23. They are treated with surprising care and with nary a cliche (go electrical fat kid!), but in reality they are just a Mcguffin to kick off Logan's last ride into the sunset, a script-writing-by-the-numbers: add a character's "child" to generate new motivation and emotions for an audience to react to.
Logan is also being much ballyhooed due to it's harder "R" rating. Deadpool broke that barrier (and Box office records) with aplomb a year earlier (and it must be mentioned that the majority of the film's belly laughs come from old Skull-Poop-L's teaser preceding the Logan film), but here the R is much more of a gimmick. The proliferation of FBombs dropped by Wolvy and Chuck are excessive and out of character, and the violence (while indeed more extreme) never truly reaches the high level of gore made possible by 6 impossibly razor sharp claws. True, the adult themes of death and dying lay heavy on Logan, but does a quick flash of tits justify Logan's stronger rating or just prove they did it because Deadpool made so much money doing it first? Box office receipts will tell all.
In the comics Logan is the best at what he does. In the movies, not so much. They have muddled his motivations and mannerisms to a point where the two characters are now distinctly different beasts. There is Jackman's version and the book's, and though they are closely related and we will always have the source books to flip through, it will be Jackman in the leather suit that will pop into the audience's mind and measure up to the next likely actor(s) taking up the mantle (how many years did it take before it was safe to replace Christopher Reeve?). Luckily this film only shows how Hugh's Wolverine ends, not the character itself. And much like the books, as writers and artists come and go, changing plot points and history and overwriting nuances, Jackman's legacy too will be slowly buried. Considering how the X-titles have been treated on screen lately, perhaps it was the best time to bow out, and what a surprisingly brutal way to choose to go.
7 SNIKTS, But Where's My Stan Lee Cameo? out of 10 (GOOD)
Showing posts with label GOOD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label GOOD. Show all posts
Green Room (2016)
Green Room (R)
"Wolfenstein 2D"
A small time Metal music band becomes stranded in Oregon when their gig cancels. They accept a make up gig from a fan in order to generate enough funds to get home: a rural backwater club that just so happens to be patronized by Neo-Nazis. When things go terribly wrong the band is stuck with their backs against the wall in Director Jeremy Saulnier's gritty and intense Green Room.
When Saulnier's Blue Ruin (he must have a thing for colors in his titles) hit the indy scene it caused a sensation with its dynamic thrill vs budget ratio. In Green Room he raises the bar even higher, the look is much more evened out and professional, the thrills more smartly paced, the acting and situations more believable, the plot more brisk, the characters more expendable. This is one of those films where you can totally put yourself in the protagonists shoes, and are doubly shocked when characters are suddenly and violently killed. The cast is mostly young, bearded and realistic, with perhaps the most notable exception being the ol' Captain himself, Patrick Stewart (STTNG). We all should have guessed, he was a natural Skin Head all along!
Much like Ruin before it, Green Room does have some issues. Audio is either unclear or not mixed properly, it can be a pain to understand clearly some important moments. Sometimes motivations are just as unclear as the audio. And the director's motif may also veer a little too close to previous efforts, violent white-trash shoot outs in the woods anyone?
Yet it all doesn't fall apart at the end like Blue, it remains tense and full of anxiety until it's last few moments. A survival tale with a real sense of dread and chock full of surprises, Green Room achieves exactly what it sets out to do more competently than anyone would have guessed. Now lets see if the filmmakers can get out of their comfort zones and make something truly great since from the looks of things they have the talent to do so (also good choice on the CCR).
7.5 Red Laces out of 10 (GOOD)
"Wolfenstein 2D"
A small time Metal music band becomes stranded in Oregon when their gig cancels. They accept a make up gig from a fan in order to generate enough funds to get home: a rural backwater club that just so happens to be patronized by Neo-Nazis. When things go terribly wrong the band is stuck with their backs against the wall in Director Jeremy Saulnier's gritty and intense Green Room.
When Saulnier's Blue Ruin (he must have a thing for colors in his titles) hit the indy scene it caused a sensation with its dynamic thrill vs budget ratio. In Green Room he raises the bar even higher, the look is much more evened out and professional, the thrills more smartly paced, the acting and situations more believable, the plot more brisk, the characters more expendable. This is one of those films where you can totally put yourself in the protagonists shoes, and are doubly shocked when characters are suddenly and violently killed. The cast is mostly young, bearded and realistic, with perhaps the most notable exception being the ol' Captain himself, Patrick Stewart (STTNG). We all should have guessed, he was a natural Skin Head all along!
Much like Ruin before it, Green Room does have some issues. Audio is either unclear or not mixed properly, it can be a pain to understand clearly some important moments. Sometimes motivations are just as unclear as the audio. And the director's motif may also veer a little too close to previous efforts, violent white-trash shoot outs in the woods anyone?
Yet it all doesn't fall apart at the end like Blue, it remains tense and full of anxiety until it's last few moments. A survival tale with a real sense of dread and chock full of surprises, Green Room achieves exactly what it sets out to do more competently than anyone would have guessed. Now lets see if the filmmakers can get out of their comfort zones and make something truly great since from the looks of things they have the talent to do so (also good choice on the CCR).
7.5 Red Laces out of 10 (GOOD)
Finding Dory (2016)
Finding Dory (PG)
"One Fish Two Fish Red Fish, who fish?"
A short while after finding Nemo, Dory sets out on another oceanic voyage to find her long lost parents in Pixar's follow up, Finding Dory.
Pixar, once the Art House 3D powerhouse, has apparently succumbed to it's masters and begun churning out sequel after sequel. And while Monster's University was a small success but did have something new and interesting to say about it's Universe and characters, Finding Dory is a huge hit with almost nothing new to say. The absent minded Dory (Ellen Degeneres) has been upgraded to main character but her winning sidekick charm has been downgraded in the process. Saddled with grief and dementia, Dory is a panic stricken nervous case without time to crack as many jokes. Her quest for her family is of course fraught with peril and fun new friends, and Nemo and Marlin tag along for the ride because, hey a sequel can't stray to far from it's roots right?! The Pacific Coast setting is accurately rendered and yet so far removed from the delightful candy like reef that it is as much of a downer as remembering Dory's lost childhood is. Things spice up once they reach an aquarium/habitat, but still strange plot questions weigh down what should easily float (like why on earth would a clutch of California sea lions have English accents?).
The great Ed O'Neil (Wayne's World) has the best and newest character as Hank, a curmodgeony octopus trying his best to escape yet slowly but surely falling under Dory's chaotic spell. Hank's story is obviously influenced (and probably sparked the creation of the sequel) by the nationwide headlines a real life escaping octopus made in the news awhile back, and in 3D form provides the best action, fun and lines in the entire picture. The only other stand out is Becky, the speechless empty headed loon that helps the fish, which is in of itself telling of the mediocrity of the main story.
The other characters (a near sighted whale, a Beluga with a confidence problem, etc) are mostly just there to move Dory along and fill in her backstory from the first film. It's a case of better left unsaid, Dory is at her best being surprising and funny in difficult situations, but this Finding has to tell you WHY she had so many surprises and why she is so sad. It's not an emotion easily stapled to our memories of Dory from the first film, and all of it comes across as not much of a reason to make a second. Finding Dory is a safe money maker, it takes no chances with it's beloved franchise, and is the artistic equivalent of a luke warm salt water bath.
6 At Least the Humans look less Freakish out of 10 (GOOD)
"One Fish Two Fish Red Fish, who fish?"
A short while after finding Nemo, Dory sets out on another oceanic voyage to find her long lost parents in Pixar's follow up, Finding Dory.
Pixar, once the Art House 3D powerhouse, has apparently succumbed to it's masters and begun churning out sequel after sequel. And while Monster's University was a small success but did have something new and interesting to say about it's Universe and characters, Finding Dory is a huge hit with almost nothing new to say. The absent minded Dory (Ellen Degeneres) has been upgraded to main character but her winning sidekick charm has been downgraded in the process. Saddled with grief and dementia, Dory is a panic stricken nervous case without time to crack as many jokes. Her quest for her family is of course fraught with peril and fun new friends, and Nemo and Marlin tag along for the ride because, hey a sequel can't stray to far from it's roots right?! The Pacific Coast setting is accurately rendered and yet so far removed from the delightful candy like reef that it is as much of a downer as remembering Dory's lost childhood is. Things spice up once they reach an aquarium/habitat, but still strange plot questions weigh down what should easily float (like why on earth would a clutch of California sea lions have English accents?).
The great Ed O'Neil (Wayne's World) has the best and newest character as Hank, a curmodgeony octopus trying his best to escape yet slowly but surely falling under Dory's chaotic spell. Hank's story is obviously influenced (and probably sparked the creation of the sequel) by the nationwide headlines a real life escaping octopus made in the news awhile back, and in 3D form provides the best action, fun and lines in the entire picture. The only other stand out is Becky, the speechless empty headed loon that helps the fish, which is in of itself telling of the mediocrity of the main story.
The other characters (a near sighted whale, a Beluga with a confidence problem, etc) are mostly just there to move Dory along and fill in her backstory from the first film. It's a case of better left unsaid, Dory is at her best being surprising and funny in difficult situations, but this Finding has to tell you WHY she had so many surprises and why she is so sad. It's not an emotion easily stapled to our memories of Dory from the first film, and all of it comes across as not much of a reason to make a second. Finding Dory is a safe money maker, it takes no chances with it's beloved franchise, and is the artistic equivalent of a luke warm salt water bath.
6 At Least the Humans look less Freakish out of 10 (GOOD)
Captain America: Civil War (2016)
Captain America: Civil War (PG-13)
"A House of M divided against itself cannot stand"
After surviving the Age of Ultron, Captain America must now find and keep his friend from being hunted down and killed as the rest of the world's bureaucracies are cracking down on unfettered Superheros (aided by the one and only Iron Man) in the Russo brother's newest follow up in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
The Russo brothers proved themselves with CA:Winter Soldier. That film had pure, clean action and lots of it, all seen through it's hero and his friends against a worldwide conspiracy that threatened the democracy and freedom they love. Seeing these two movies back to back is a whiplash of culture shock. Civil war instead has high instances of shaky cameras, action scenes that for all the world look unplanned and formed instead in the edit room, grandiose cameos from other parts of the MCU just to sell future films, and just an overall inability to focus on the narrative and draw the necessary lines in the dirt to justify it's own title. These are the ying and yang of Captain America films.
First off the aesthetic and production design is fantastic, the fleetingness of the world hopping almost feels Bond-ish (though perhaps unneeded, almost like they were chasing tax credits and filming wherever was most glamorously least expensive). New addition to the MCU Black Panther is not only wonderfully realized and portrayed, he looks cool and is a harbinger of good things to come from the FilmHouse of M. The special effects are solid and features the Russo's return to the franchise after their strongest MCU film to date, so what could go wrong?
Mostly it's wrong in calling it a Captain America film, it's primarily an Ironman film, and slightly an Avengers film. The return of Robert Downey Jr., his recruitment of the new Spider-man, his turn towards becoming a tool of the state are all allowed to overshadow Chris Evan's Captain's single-minded and strictly illegal devotion to a comrade come hell or high water. It's the Ironman show, he gets the best lines, the most gravitas, he's the bigger star (which isn't shocking when you consider RDJr's Ironman first launched the MCU). The movie feels motivated towards easy profits instead of cutting edge story. But the movie is called Captain America, and features this figure running around Europe breaking all manner of international laws which must be said would be somewhat against his character. There is a prevailing sense of Marvel not being willing to paint either hero in a bad light, especially RDJr, and it is a sign of the MCU's possible slow descent into suit-funded mediocrity (or at least the slump they've had going, especially with large cast blockbusters). It all leaves the center encounter, Cap vs Ironman, oddly empty and devoid of the passions needed to pull it off a Civil War.
Speaking of villain, the ones here are not only again wholly expendable, they are depressingly unmotivated and with master plan plot holes the size of Tony's ego. And if this movie stops and makes you ask "why would he?" and "why doesn't he...?," then the whole house of cards about the purpose of this movie falls hard. It becomes what some critics have described, an unmemorable cookie cutter "betcha can't wait to watch the next movies we make" money factory instead of the rock-solid best action movie that you could take your kid brother to go see, as American as apple pie and the stars and stripes.
6.5 Gi-Ant Man out of 10 (GOOD)
"A House of M divided against itself cannot stand"
After surviving the Age of Ultron, Captain America must now find and keep his friend from being hunted down and killed as the rest of the world's bureaucracies are cracking down on unfettered Superheros (aided by the one and only Iron Man) in the Russo brother's newest follow up in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
The Russo brothers proved themselves with CA:Winter Soldier. That film had pure, clean action and lots of it, all seen through it's hero and his friends against a worldwide conspiracy that threatened the democracy and freedom they love. Seeing these two movies back to back is a whiplash of culture shock. Civil war instead has high instances of shaky cameras, action scenes that for all the world look unplanned and formed instead in the edit room, grandiose cameos from other parts of the MCU just to sell future films, and just an overall inability to focus on the narrative and draw the necessary lines in the dirt to justify it's own title. These are the ying and yang of Captain America films.
First off the aesthetic and production design is fantastic, the fleetingness of the world hopping almost feels Bond-ish (though perhaps unneeded, almost like they were chasing tax credits and filming wherever was most glamorously least expensive). New addition to the MCU Black Panther is not only wonderfully realized and portrayed, he looks cool and is a harbinger of good things to come from the FilmHouse of M. The special effects are solid and features the Russo's return to the franchise after their strongest MCU film to date, so what could go wrong?
Mostly it's wrong in calling it a Captain America film, it's primarily an Ironman film, and slightly an Avengers film. The return of Robert Downey Jr., his recruitment of the new Spider-man, his turn towards becoming a tool of the state are all allowed to overshadow Chris Evan's Captain's single-minded and strictly illegal devotion to a comrade come hell or high water. It's the Ironman show, he gets the best lines, the most gravitas, he's the bigger star (which isn't shocking when you consider RDJr's Ironman first launched the MCU). The movie feels motivated towards easy profits instead of cutting edge story. But the movie is called Captain America, and features this figure running around Europe breaking all manner of international laws which must be said would be somewhat against his character. There is a prevailing sense of Marvel not being willing to paint either hero in a bad light, especially RDJr, and it is a sign of the MCU's possible slow descent into suit-funded mediocrity (or at least the slump they've had going, especially with large cast blockbusters). It all leaves the center encounter, Cap vs Ironman, oddly empty and devoid of the passions needed to pull it off a Civil War.
Speaking of villain, the ones here are not only again wholly expendable, they are depressingly unmotivated and with master plan plot holes the size of Tony's ego. And if this movie stops and makes you ask "why would he?" and "why doesn't he...?," then the whole house of cards about the purpose of this movie falls hard. It becomes what some critics have described, an unmemorable cookie cutter "betcha can't wait to watch the next movies we make" money factory instead of the rock-solid best action movie that you could take your kid brother to go see, as American as apple pie and the stars and stripes.
6.5 Gi-Ant Man out of 10 (GOOD)
Everybody Wants Some (2016)
Everybody Wants Some!! (R)
"Some, why not all?"
A group of freshman college baseball players settle into their new life of stiff competition, stiff drinking, loose girls and acting all grown up in Texas in Richard Linklater's comedy Everybody Wants Some!!.
Sold as the spiritual sequel to Linklater's Dazed and Confused (1993), EWS follows a group of freshman baseball players trying to fit into their new lives, trying to out perform the older players, and trying to stay as stoned and laid as possible. It's now the 1980s, and boy was it a different time. As a study of how America has changed in just a few short decades (which Linklater's films often revel in) Everybody Wants Some succeeds, but as a pure form of visual entertainment it sadly falls on it's own cleats.
Maybe it's the lack of "loss of innocence" plot line or pungent stench of post-pubescent ambition, but Everybody Wants Some!! leaves you wanting a bit more and less. There's no issues with the comedy which is humorous, the acting which is naturalistic, the directing which is approachable. However all together these testosterone fueled Jocks in a Frat house will only appeal to a certain audience, if it was your Father or favorite Uncle telling these tall tales of chopping baseballs with axes or the night they got kicked out of the disco after meeting your mother inbetween gulps of Shiner Bock then you'd have a sincere reason to listen. Told to a modern audience it falls flat, a rude boy story/brag bereft of the nostalgia and hope that shone from Dazed and Confused. Instead it concentrates on the potential for success (or failure) for these near-men, friends, odd balls and sexual dynamos that only a small group of modern individuals could really relate too, or more importantly, really laugh at.
6.5 Still Not as Boring as Boyhood, But Not High Art Either out of 10 (GOOD)
"Some, why not all?"
A group of freshman college baseball players settle into their new life of stiff competition, stiff drinking, loose girls and acting all grown up in Texas in Richard Linklater's comedy Everybody Wants Some!!.
Sold as the spiritual sequel to Linklater's Dazed and Confused (1993), EWS follows a group of freshman baseball players trying to fit into their new lives, trying to out perform the older players, and trying to stay as stoned and laid as possible. It's now the 1980s, and boy was it a different time. As a study of how America has changed in just a few short decades (which Linklater's films often revel in) Everybody Wants Some succeeds, but as a pure form of visual entertainment it sadly falls on it's own cleats.
Maybe it's the lack of "loss of innocence" plot line or pungent stench of post-pubescent ambition, but Everybody Wants Some!! leaves you wanting a bit more and less. There's no issues with the comedy which is humorous, the acting which is naturalistic, the directing which is approachable. However all together these testosterone fueled Jocks in a Frat house will only appeal to a certain audience, if it was your Father or favorite Uncle telling these tall tales of chopping baseballs with axes or the night they got kicked out of the disco after meeting your mother inbetween gulps of Shiner Bock then you'd have a sincere reason to listen. Told to a modern audience it falls flat, a rude boy story/brag bereft of the nostalgia and hope that shone from Dazed and Confused. Instead it concentrates on the potential for success (or failure) for these near-men, friends, odd balls and sexual dynamos that only a small group of modern individuals could really relate too, or more importantly, really laugh at.
6.5 Still Not as Boring as Boyhood, But Not High Art Either out of 10 (GOOD)
Knight of Cups (2016)
Knight of Cups (R)
"In his Cups"
Traipsing through the weird world of Hollywood, a depressingly lost scriptwriter goes through a series of relationships (sensual, family and business) to attempt to find meaning in his meaningless life in auteur Terrance Malick's obtuse yet seemingly autobiographical film, Knight of Cups.
In Tarot, the Knight of Cups signifies change, excitement and romance, a bringer of new ideas. This does not accurately describe the film. However, in Tarot if a card is dealt from the deck upside down (which as inferred by the poster for the film it has been), then the card is inversed and means the opposite; trickery, naivete, redundancy, tedium. Now we are getting somewhere. For all its faults and obtuseness, it makes Knight of Cups the most appropriately (and interestingly) titled film of the year, and probably the most obviously intimate look into the persona of Malick.
Using the terms and storylines from Medieval pilgrimage literature and the Tarot, Knight of Cups has more of striking visuals and cohesiveness than Malick's previous film To The Wonder. The mere semblance of a plot gives Knight the upper hand, as does having a much more varied and stellar cast (Christian Bale stars but rarely talks and in turn is spoken to by Cate Blanchett, Brian Dennehy, Natalie Portman and others). Yet again, Knight of Cups is another rumination on life, as Tree of Life was before it, a pastiche of the past, a montage of the moment. Images shutter by, some breathtaking, some mundane, some surprisingly on low res video cameras instead of the gorgeous film photography of his previous efforts. Also different is the use of Nature, often a dominating force in Terrance's films. Here the Knight of Cups seems separated form the natural Earth until the very end of the film, he appears lost in a world of marble, concrete and asphalt. This intentional shift in tone works on your subconscious, but only in context to the rest of Malick's oeuvre and therein lies it's biggest problem.
For those steeped in Malickian lore, for those illuminated by ancient pilgrimage literature or well versed in the symbology and subtext of the Tarot (the movie's chapters and their repsective characters are all named for cards in the deck), even for ones such as these Knight of Cups would be a difficult movie to recommend. And so your average American will have no interest in this Facebook moments-like tableaux of ex-girlfriend's speeches, family squabbles or extravagant Beverly Hills parties. Terrance Malick's best work has an indescribable tone that can deeply affect the viewer and it just so happens that his movies are getting more and more specific in the audience it reaches for (himself mostly, but without a doubt there will be a small minority this movie will sing to). It has neither the visual panache of Tree, the humble humanity of Thin Red Line nor the youthful destruction of Badlands and yet there are touches here and there where it does almost meet them. How it was made, how a script was never shown to anyone, how the actors were unknowingly lead through these moments, all those interesting things are secondary to it's directors reason to make it, and the notoriously reclusive Malick certainly isn't going to tell us that.
For all the world Knight of Cups feels like a cryptic memory of a past life that someone outgrew and now reminisces about in some other part of the world with some other people who could never fully understand. It's the kind of thing Terrance Malick does best (in fact the only one who does it at all), even if we also will never understand it as much as we'd like.
6 Slow Motion Dogs In Pools Missing Balls out of 10 (GOOD)
"In his Cups"
Traipsing through the weird world of Hollywood, a depressingly lost scriptwriter goes through a series of relationships (sensual, family and business) to attempt to find meaning in his meaningless life in auteur Terrance Malick's obtuse yet seemingly autobiographical film, Knight of Cups.
In Tarot, the Knight of Cups signifies change, excitement and romance, a bringer of new ideas. This does not accurately describe the film. However, in Tarot if a card is dealt from the deck upside down (which as inferred by the poster for the film it has been), then the card is inversed and means the opposite; trickery, naivete, redundancy, tedium. Now we are getting somewhere. For all its faults and obtuseness, it makes Knight of Cups the most appropriately (and interestingly) titled film of the year, and probably the most obviously intimate look into the persona of Malick.
Using the terms and storylines from Medieval pilgrimage literature and the Tarot, Knight of Cups has more of striking visuals and cohesiveness than Malick's previous film To The Wonder. The mere semblance of a plot gives Knight the upper hand, as does having a much more varied and stellar cast (Christian Bale stars but rarely talks and in turn is spoken to by Cate Blanchett, Brian Dennehy, Natalie Portman and others). Yet again, Knight of Cups is another rumination on life, as Tree of Life was before it, a pastiche of the past, a montage of the moment. Images shutter by, some breathtaking, some mundane, some surprisingly on low res video cameras instead of the gorgeous film photography of his previous efforts. Also different is the use of Nature, often a dominating force in Terrance's films. Here the Knight of Cups seems separated form the natural Earth until the very end of the film, he appears lost in a world of marble, concrete and asphalt. This intentional shift in tone works on your subconscious, but only in context to the rest of Malick's oeuvre and therein lies it's biggest problem.
For those steeped in Malickian lore, for those illuminated by ancient pilgrimage literature or well versed in the symbology and subtext of the Tarot (the movie's chapters and their repsective characters are all named for cards in the deck), even for ones such as these Knight of Cups would be a difficult movie to recommend. And so your average American will have no interest in this Facebook moments-like tableaux of ex-girlfriend's speeches, family squabbles or extravagant Beverly Hills parties. Terrance Malick's best work has an indescribable tone that can deeply affect the viewer and it just so happens that his movies are getting more and more specific in the audience it reaches for (himself mostly, but without a doubt there will be a small minority this movie will sing to). It has neither the visual panache of Tree, the humble humanity of Thin Red Line nor the youthful destruction of Badlands and yet there are touches here and there where it does almost meet them. How it was made, how a script was never shown to anyone, how the actors were unknowingly lead through these moments, all those interesting things are secondary to it's directors reason to make it, and the notoriously reclusive Malick certainly isn't going to tell us that.
For all the world Knight of Cups feels like a cryptic memory of a past life that someone outgrew and now reminisces about in some other part of the world with some other people who could never fully understand. It's the kind of thing Terrance Malick does best (in fact the only one who does it at all), even if we also will never understand it as much as we'd like.
6 Slow Motion Dogs In Pools Missing Balls out of 10 (GOOD)
Deadpool (2016)
Deadpool (R)
"Skull Poop L"
An ex-special forces commando with a heart (and mouth) of gold finds love, yadda yadda, actually the point of a Deadpool movie should be to abandon the need for a movie with these kinds of standard comic book adaptation-driven synopsis', and sometimes it does- making Deadpool a riot in Fox's newest X-Men film franchise entry.
From the opening frame of a wonderfully off-kilter and sarcastic opening-title sequence, Deadpool promises and delivers R rated thrills that the budget doesn't quite live up to. Half the movie feels like a standard origin story with more than average funny quips, while almost all the action is separated by long (yet humorous) exposition in the other half (rumored last minute budget cuts from Fox have been fingered). Where a character like Deadpool could be skewering the cash-grabs and grotesque sameness inherent in "The Comic Book Movie" formula, instead just does them in a uniquely and still appreciated fun way. Meta-humor is used sparingly, like making fun of it's own villain by calling him a cliche with a British accent in the aforementioned opening sequence? That loses it's sting when the joke of a boring old Limey super-villain actually comes true. It's the greatest 4th wall of all, the one this film is never really able to break through; the same old training montages and goop-that-gives-you-powers are all present even if tongue is planted firmly in cheek (could be worse places!).
Luckily the Merc-with-a-pottymouth's sense of humor (gallows or otherwise) are left dashingly intact. Ryan Reynolds, who last played the same character in Fox's abysmal X-Men Origins: Wolverine, gets a chance to nail what the fans have been slavering for (and it isn't your momma). There are a lot of laughs, both raunchy and silly, but the overall charm of the film is from Reynolds' Pool, and it's surprising release on Valentine's day a welcome violent surprise for boys and girls, a healthy fun alternative to the chick-flick bait of yester-weekends. Here we have a pooting red-booted killing machine who lives with a old blind lady in a basement apartment, looks like a walking tumor under the spandex and who takes cabs to his mass-shooting sprees instead of B-52 Blackbirds, big shiny friends from the other X-franchises to chide him or make him feel old (New Mutants uniform FTW). It is at least unusual, at most very funny and a lastly a fresh breath of gunpowder-laden air. Next time just leave the flashbacks for other franchises with episodes on the CW, ok sport?
7.5 Testicles with Teeth out of 10 (GOOD)
"Skull Poop L"
An ex-special forces commando with a heart (and mouth) of gold finds love, yadda yadda, actually the point of a Deadpool movie should be to abandon the need for a movie with these kinds of standard comic book adaptation-driven synopsis', and sometimes it does- making Deadpool a riot in Fox's newest X-Men film franchise entry.
From the opening frame of a wonderfully off-kilter and sarcastic opening-title sequence, Deadpool promises and delivers R rated thrills that the budget doesn't quite live up to. Half the movie feels like a standard origin story with more than average funny quips, while almost all the action is separated by long (yet humorous) exposition in the other half (rumored last minute budget cuts from Fox have been fingered). Where a character like Deadpool could be skewering the cash-grabs and grotesque sameness inherent in "The Comic Book Movie" formula, instead just does them in a uniquely and still appreciated fun way. Meta-humor is used sparingly, like making fun of it's own villain by calling him a cliche with a British accent in the aforementioned opening sequence? That loses it's sting when the joke of a boring old Limey super-villain actually comes true. It's the greatest 4th wall of all, the one this film is never really able to break through; the same old training montages and goop-that-gives-you-powers are all present even if tongue is planted firmly in cheek (could be worse places!).
Luckily the Merc-with-a-pottymouth's sense of humor (gallows or otherwise) are left dashingly intact. Ryan Reynolds, who last played the same character in Fox's abysmal X-Men Origins: Wolverine, gets a chance to nail what the fans have been slavering for (and it isn't your momma). There are a lot of laughs, both raunchy and silly, but the overall charm of the film is from Reynolds' Pool, and it's surprising release on Valentine's day a welcome violent surprise for boys and girls, a healthy fun alternative to the chick-flick bait of yester-weekends. Here we have a pooting red-booted killing machine who lives with a old blind lady in a basement apartment, looks like a walking tumor under the spandex and who takes cabs to his mass-shooting sprees instead of B-52 Blackbirds, big shiny friends from the other X-franchises to chide him or make him feel old (New Mutants uniform FTW). It is at least unusual, at most very funny and a lastly a fresh breath of gunpowder-laden air. Next time just leave the flashbacks for other franchises with episodes on the CW, ok sport?
7.5 Testicles with Teeth out of 10 (GOOD)
Bone Tomahawk (2015)
Bone Tomahawk (R)
A posse sets out from the town of Bright Hope in pursuit of some mysteriously sinister natives who have made off with a nurse, a deputy and their charge, a murdering vagrant. With an aging backup deputy, a paranoid man with a healthy trigger finger and a husband with a shattered leg, the local Sheriff heads out with his crew with no backup, no guide and no real hope of succeeding in the auspicious debut of director/writer S. Craig Zahller's surprisingly successful Horror/Western genre mashup.
A still mustachioed Kurt Russell (Hateful Eight) leads the men and the cast as the veteran Sheriff Hunt with supporting roles filled by fantastic character actor Richard Jenkins (The Cabin in the Woods), out-of-his-element Patrick Wilson (The Watchmen) and quirky Matthew Fox (Lost). This rousing group has a great script to play with and better repartee, and like the film are better than the sum of their parts. Jenkins in particular uses his great personal charms to enliven the role of dim-witted backup Deputy Chickory. The same can not be said for the female roles where a competent line reading has been sacrificed for a pretty face. The writing however is not to be blamed, as the jolly palaver and old timey vernacular of the dialog can attest to be the strongest asset of the film.
Not so strong are the visuals, a flat arid desert may be our playground but something perhaps could have been done to liven up the proceedings. Perhaps it was an attempt to accentuate the stark realism that underlies the plot, but more likely it is a symptom of the independent (and cheap) nature of the production that everything looks so one dimensional and backyard like. The posse's monstrous foes, a pack of cannibalistic troglodytes that even other Native-American fear come straight out of a 1980's D&D rule book. Alien, immutable and stoic, these cave-Indians are built like body builders and sound like video-game werewolves (which is quite silly). However the overall mythical, adventure-gone wrong feel to the plot lends itself to these creatures existing in a world where Tombstone meets Beowulf with a dash of Hostel.
This is where the genre mixing comes into full force. Bone Tomahawk is a long film, at over 2 hours with most of the action in the last half hour it can be a trek. In fact most of the beginning of the film can be seen as a ill-conceived camping trip through the badlands, and if it wasn't for the sharp characterization and pristine chatter among the group it would have sink into tedious sands from the wieght of pretension. Instead it builds tension quite slowly until the quick sudden release of bow strings and triggers, then blood bursts and appendages sever (the great practical effects show where the film makers allegiances lie) as it's genre mashup goes into full effect. To go 2 hours of tromping through the trail to sudden, violent, in your face charnel house really places the viewer squarely into the terrified boots of these law-loving prairie folk who are about to witness it up close and personal. It is shocking, brutal and very effective for both parties, and better than it has any right to be.
It's shortcomings easily outpaced by it's strengths, Bone Tomahawk is an auspicious start to a writer's career, one with interesting ideas and a zest for dialog. The movie itself is aptly named, the bony instrument would be blunt and cheap and yet just as effective as any expensive steel ax at cleaving, maiming or slaughtering, probably more painfully so.
7.5 Corn Chowders out of 10 (GOOD)
A posse sets out from the town of Bright Hope in pursuit of some mysteriously sinister natives who have made off with a nurse, a deputy and their charge, a murdering vagrant. With an aging backup deputy, a paranoid man with a healthy trigger finger and a husband with a shattered leg, the local Sheriff heads out with his crew with no backup, no guide and no real hope of succeeding in the auspicious debut of director/writer S. Craig Zahller's surprisingly successful Horror/Western genre mashup.
A still mustachioed Kurt Russell (Hateful Eight) leads the men and the cast as the veteran Sheriff Hunt with supporting roles filled by fantastic character actor Richard Jenkins (The Cabin in the Woods), out-of-his-element Patrick Wilson (The Watchmen) and quirky Matthew Fox (Lost). This rousing group has a great script to play with and better repartee, and like the film are better than the sum of their parts. Jenkins in particular uses his great personal charms to enliven the role of dim-witted backup Deputy Chickory. The same can not be said for the female roles where a competent line reading has been sacrificed for a pretty face. The writing however is not to be blamed, as the jolly palaver and old timey vernacular of the dialog can attest to be the strongest asset of the film.
Not so strong are the visuals, a flat arid desert may be our playground but something perhaps could have been done to liven up the proceedings. Perhaps it was an attempt to accentuate the stark realism that underlies the plot, but more likely it is a symptom of the independent (and cheap) nature of the production that everything looks so one dimensional and backyard like. The posse's monstrous foes, a pack of cannibalistic troglodytes that even other Native-American fear come straight out of a 1980's D&D rule book. Alien, immutable and stoic, these cave-Indians are built like body builders and sound like video-game werewolves (which is quite silly). However the overall mythical, adventure-gone wrong feel to the plot lends itself to these creatures existing in a world where Tombstone meets Beowulf with a dash of Hostel.
This is where the genre mixing comes into full force. Bone Tomahawk is a long film, at over 2 hours with most of the action in the last half hour it can be a trek. In fact most of the beginning of the film can be seen as a ill-conceived camping trip through the badlands, and if it wasn't for the sharp characterization and pristine chatter among the group it would have sink into tedious sands from the wieght of pretension. Instead it builds tension quite slowly until the quick sudden release of bow strings and triggers, then blood bursts and appendages sever (the great practical effects show where the film makers allegiances lie) as it's genre mashup goes into full effect. To go 2 hours of tromping through the trail to sudden, violent, in your face charnel house really places the viewer squarely into the terrified boots of these law-loving prairie folk who are about to witness it up close and personal. It is shocking, brutal and very effective for both parties, and better than it has any right to be.
It's shortcomings easily outpaced by it's strengths, Bone Tomahawk is an auspicious start to a writer's career, one with interesting ideas and a zest for dialog. The movie itself is aptly named, the bony instrument would be blunt and cheap and yet just as effective as any expensive steel ax at cleaving, maiming or slaughtering, probably more painfully so.
7.5 Corn Chowders out of 10 (GOOD)
The Revenant (2015)
The Revenant (R)
A man on a trapping expedition, mauled by a bear and wronged by his companions, crawls his way back to civilization and survival by sheer will and the lust for revenge in director Alejandro Inarratu's followup to 2014's Best Picture "Birdman (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)".
Based very loosely on the widely told tale of professional trail scout Hugh Glass (played with baby face and big bearded Leonardo DiCaprio (Wolf of Wall Street)), a man so wronged even his own exposed ribs nor 200 miles full of blood thirsty natives will keep him from his vengeance. Leo plays him as the quiet type, surrounded by the vast blanketed mountains or picking his way through the tree studded fields he doesn't say much (having one's throat shredded by a momma grizzly may have helped). When asked why he fled civilized parts of the world, Leo's Glass mutters something about "Liking it where it's quiet". These are his best moments, but DiCaprio cannot so easily shed his Mega-star image and face beneath a bearhide and buckskins, and too often (despite his truly best efforts and solid acting ability), we are forced to admit that no, Leo does not resemble a wild Mountain-man of the frontier age, a man so hardy and full of spirit that he could survive the cold and wounds and misfortune. He looks, much as he did in The Aviator, like Leo DiCaprio.
Tom Hardy (Bronson), on the other hand, once again completely transforms himself for a role. As Glass' trapping partner Fitzgerald he is bitter, racist, self-serving and sports a plotting, devious mind. His country Texas twang feels great, every time the film gives him something to do he is riveting and completely steals the show from DiCaprio, there is a self confidence present that stands it's ground as an authentic Western ideology. Perhaps he wasn't as electric as Mad Max since he could not truly make the role singularly his own, but in Revenant he fits into Fitzgerald perfectly and is fantastic antagonist.
It is only too bad the film strays from what makes it good so often. The cinema, the wide open wild places look terrific while at the same time the CGI wild animals populating it detract. The long takes, now famous from these filmmakers, feel more constructed and sewn together with twine when done in nature than the smooth seamless backstage views. The compositing is distracting, mostly during the action sequences, there is a reliance on technology way out there in wilds of nature that simply clashes with the aesthetic being sold to us. As is some of the audio design, for instance the Natives all are dubbed strangely and out of sync, the words literally put into their mouths in post. More power to Inarratu for braving the forces of nature to capture this stuff with natural light and freezing actors and crew, but if Dances with Wolves had just had a herd of CGI buffalo that too would have stuck out like a sore thumb too. However there are shots here of such sublime beauty as to be in a Terrance Mallick film (in fact much can be seen as homage to T.M.), but unfortunately many do not help along the blood thirsty narrative. A man done so wrong would not sleep so placidly or have such a spiritual dream journey. And, like the many Hollywood epics before it, the script of the Revenant takes an amazing true life story of determination and grit and gussies it up with more drama for modern audiences, rehashing a classic trend that itself should be mauled and buried. A man did do this, crawled that great long way, survive a bear attack and had maggots eat his gangrenous flesh, there is no need to gussy it up and "humanize" it more. Revenge does not only come from blood, motivation not just from love and close ups of eye's leaking, the real story of Glass was already about how strong and hardy a human being could be, and diluting it with modern cinematic tricks really wounds it to the quick.
Much like its protagonist Glass, Revenant is ritualistically real. The snow, dirt and blood and environments is under his feet and nails and stains his clothes (costume). And yet mixed in equal parts is fabrication, with an empty spirituality, preachy modern morality and technological shortcuts. Where it gets it right, the opening Bear horror, the closing showdown with the fantastic Hardy, the rest is a barren cold wasteland of misspent ideals. All in a film just as lengthy as Hateful Eight yet without the constant, cartoonishly fired from the hip Western-fried delights. Greatness lurks beneath a thick ground fog of modern necessity, and instead of a tall tale we get a long one.
By the end, worn out by tiresome long camera takes, you stumble out of the theater on benumbed legs like a snow blind trapper with nothing to show for your journey except a deep yearning for hearth and home.
7 Historical Showdowns that never actually happened out of 10 (GOOD)
A man on a trapping expedition, mauled by a bear and wronged by his companions, crawls his way back to civilization and survival by sheer will and the lust for revenge in director Alejandro Inarratu's followup to 2014's Best Picture "Birdman (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)".
Based very loosely on the widely told tale of professional trail scout Hugh Glass (played with baby face and big bearded Leonardo DiCaprio (Wolf of Wall Street)), a man so wronged even his own exposed ribs nor 200 miles full of blood thirsty natives will keep him from his vengeance. Leo plays him as the quiet type, surrounded by the vast blanketed mountains or picking his way through the tree studded fields he doesn't say much (having one's throat shredded by a momma grizzly may have helped). When asked why he fled civilized parts of the world, Leo's Glass mutters something about "Liking it where it's quiet". These are his best moments, but DiCaprio cannot so easily shed his Mega-star image and face beneath a bearhide and buckskins, and too often (despite his truly best efforts and solid acting ability), we are forced to admit that no, Leo does not resemble a wild Mountain-man of the frontier age, a man so hardy and full of spirit that he could survive the cold and wounds and misfortune. He looks, much as he did in The Aviator, like Leo DiCaprio.
Tom Hardy (Bronson), on the other hand, once again completely transforms himself for a role. As Glass' trapping partner Fitzgerald he is bitter, racist, self-serving and sports a plotting, devious mind. His country Texas twang feels great, every time the film gives him something to do he is riveting and completely steals the show from DiCaprio, there is a self confidence present that stands it's ground as an authentic Western ideology. Perhaps he wasn't as electric as Mad Max since he could not truly make the role singularly his own, but in Revenant he fits into Fitzgerald perfectly and is fantastic antagonist.
It is only too bad the film strays from what makes it good so often. The cinema, the wide open wild places look terrific while at the same time the CGI wild animals populating it detract. The long takes, now famous from these filmmakers, feel more constructed and sewn together with twine when done in nature than the smooth seamless backstage views. The compositing is distracting, mostly during the action sequences, there is a reliance on technology way out there in wilds of nature that simply clashes with the aesthetic being sold to us. As is some of the audio design, for instance the Natives all are dubbed strangely and out of sync, the words literally put into their mouths in post. More power to Inarratu for braving the forces of nature to capture this stuff with natural light and freezing actors and crew, but if Dances with Wolves had just had a herd of CGI buffalo that too would have stuck out like a sore thumb too. However there are shots here of such sublime beauty as to be in a Terrance Mallick film (in fact much can be seen as homage to T.M.), but unfortunately many do not help along the blood thirsty narrative. A man done so wrong would not sleep so placidly or have such a spiritual dream journey. And, like the many Hollywood epics before it, the script of the Revenant takes an amazing true life story of determination and grit and gussies it up with more drama for modern audiences, rehashing a classic trend that itself should be mauled and buried. A man did do this, crawled that great long way, survive a bear attack and had maggots eat his gangrenous flesh, there is no need to gussy it up and "humanize" it more. Revenge does not only come from blood, motivation not just from love and close ups of eye's leaking, the real story of Glass was already about how strong and hardy a human being could be, and diluting it with modern cinematic tricks really wounds it to the quick.
Much like its protagonist Glass, Revenant is ritualistically real. The snow, dirt and blood and environments is under his feet and nails and stains his clothes (costume). And yet mixed in equal parts is fabrication, with an empty spirituality, preachy modern morality and technological shortcuts. Where it gets it right, the opening Bear horror, the closing showdown with the fantastic Hardy, the rest is a barren cold wasteland of misspent ideals. All in a film just as lengthy as Hateful Eight yet without the constant, cartoonishly fired from the hip Western-fried delights. Greatness lurks beneath a thick ground fog of modern necessity, and instead of a tall tale we get a long one.
By the end, worn out by tiresome long camera takes, you stumble out of the theater on benumbed legs like a snow blind trapper with nothing to show for your journey except a deep yearning for hearth and home.
7 Historical Showdowns that never actually happened out of 10 (GOOD)
The Witch (2015)
The Witch (R)
"Something VVicked This VVay comes"
In Colonial America, a family is ostracized from their village and forced to live in the dark, deep woods. Soon enough evil things befall them and as they begin to accuse each other of their sins the evil black truth comes to light in the moody yet cultured The Witch.
First and fore most, the Witch attempts to be a period piece, with all actors attempting the proper antique accents. The costume and production design maintain this illusion well, and the impending pall of raw supernatural fear that the family's unrestrained ignorance precludes slowly begins to seep into our experience. Shockingly, there are no morals to preach or symbolic circumstances to glean, but a clean dusky cinematography and naturalistic dialog. The Witch is a supernatural horror story told in ye olde English style, like one they would whisper in the village about not trusting black cats or breaking mirrors. The strength of the acting forces you through their world, one without pittance and mercy. There are many moments, visual and contextual, that shine in the film, however the scene of the mother with the crows alone is one of the best horror moments of the millennium (Kubrick would be proud). Stylized, realized and altogether well presented without a hint of cheese, the Witch will scratch an itch you may not have known you had, probably with a craggly black finger nail.
7 Black Tom Talks out of 10 (GOOD)
"Something VVicked This VVay comes"
In Colonial America, a family is ostracized from their village and forced to live in the dark, deep woods. Soon enough evil things befall them and as they begin to accuse each other of their sins the evil black truth comes to light in the moody yet cultured The Witch.
First and fore most, the Witch attempts to be a period piece, with all actors attempting the proper antique accents. The costume and production design maintain this illusion well, and the impending pall of raw supernatural fear that the family's unrestrained ignorance precludes slowly begins to seep into our experience. Shockingly, there are no morals to preach or symbolic circumstances to glean, but a clean dusky cinematography and naturalistic dialog. The Witch is a supernatural horror story told in ye olde English style, like one they would whisper in the village about not trusting black cats or breaking mirrors. The strength of the acting forces you through their world, one without pittance and mercy. There are many moments, visual and contextual, that shine in the film, however the scene of the mother with the crows alone is one of the best horror moments of the millennium (Kubrick would be proud). Stylized, realized and altogether well presented without a hint of cheese, the Witch will scratch an itch you may not have known you had, probably with a craggly black finger nail.
7 Black Tom Talks out of 10 (GOOD)
Ant-Man (2015)
Ant-Man (PG-13)
"Talk Loudly and carry a miniaturized stick"
Sneaking into the Marvel Cinematic Universe is one of it's smallest and underwhelming heroes as Ant-Man makes his unlikely screen debut. Doubly so when it ran into production trouble as long-time project gestator Simon Wright (director/screenwriter of Shaun of the Dead, who gets writing credit here) left Marvel over creative differences. However director Payton Reed (Bring it On) and the Marvel suits have made an entertaining sausage yet again, even if the ghost of "What If?" lingers off screen.
Paul Rudd (Fantana in Anchorman) pals around with Micheal Douglas as Ant-Man old and new. He's an ex-con thief who is trying to go the straight and narrow for his 3yo daughters sake. However he soon becomes embroiled in corporate espionage which somehow involves Douglas' Hank Pym (the original Ant-Man) and his daughter Hope aka Love Interest To Be Woman, aka Evangeline Lilly. It's kind of Ironman light with more diverse comedy, the crew is out to stop Pym's old intern from selling Yellowjacket to the government, which would then use it to drone-strike everyone on the planet or something BigBusiness and Government are bad or whatever the kids on the internet are saying at this moment, hey they are our demographic right guys? The interesting tidbit of Ant-Man being the first comic book movie to deal with a second iteration of a character, a comic book staple of a mentor training his protege to don and take over a super hero identity, isn't really focused on because hey, Rudd is pretty charming and the whole movie is kind of filler for the next MCU super blockbuster that he can then appear in, right?
The missed opportunities and nuance be damned, because Marvel once again just makes a fun movie to sit back and watch. And hoooh boy, is this that type of movie. Training montages? Origin stories? Nostalgic looks back and the Soviet Cold war? Vaguely threatening slippery slope government types? This movie encapsulates everything that worked in those other MCU movies and boils it down to it's audience-friendly most. However it is the non-standard flairs that actually stand out and make Ant-Man fun. When the plot goes away from all the white people problems and gets a little colorful the humor enters into it's own. A fight early on with the Falcon is a diverse breath of fresh air (or is it? Captain America would have been a stronger cameo but no where near as fun either) but Lang's crew of wacky ethnic sidekicks give the film a funny kick in the shorts that Rudd plays off of wonderfully. When its Douglas' show all you can wonder is if the old Wolf of Wallstreet is just hoping his Pym stock price doesn't fall. But the movie's humor shines when Luis gives Stan Lee his best cameo yet. Added to that an exciting finale that takes too long to come (but since it involves a fight inside a crowded briefcase and on a Thomas the Train toy train set it's forgiven), and Ant-Man provides enough laughs and action to prevent 2 hours from crawling by.
The questions aren't all answered unfortunately. Wright's version, would it have been more humor driven, more Scott Pilgrim-like and idiosyncratic than Scott Lang pathos and melodramatic? What if Pym had invented Ultron instead of Stark like the comics foretold, it was just a couple months ago after all, would have a cameo in Avengers 2 been that hard (it would have at least provided more backstory and interest to both films, and Ant-Man was a founding Avenger after all)? And why merrily skip by the science without even attempting to explain the gobbedygoop, its fraught with unspoken SciFi mcguffins? How did this movie achieve the feat of making creepy crawly bugs cute sidekicks that aren't grossing every woman man and child out? Why earn the PG13 with a lot of out of place cursing? How long can MCU go without making a terrible film? And how did one of the biggest inside jokes in comic-dom, the infamously unfamous Ant-Man, get his own blockbuster comic book film that kids and adults adore? Let's see DC pull that off with The Atom.
7.5 Tales to Astonish out of 10 (GOOD)
"Talk Loudly and carry a miniaturized stick"
Sneaking into the Marvel Cinematic Universe is one of it's smallest and underwhelming heroes as Ant-Man makes his unlikely screen debut. Doubly so when it ran into production trouble as long-time project gestator Simon Wright (director/screenwriter of Shaun of the Dead, who gets writing credit here) left Marvel over creative differences. However director Payton Reed (Bring it On) and the Marvel suits have made an entertaining sausage yet again, even if the ghost of "What If?" lingers off screen.
Paul Rudd (Fantana in Anchorman) pals around with Micheal Douglas as Ant-Man old and new. He's an ex-con thief who is trying to go the straight and narrow for his 3yo daughters sake. However he soon becomes embroiled in corporate espionage which somehow involves Douglas' Hank Pym (the original Ant-Man) and his daughter Hope aka Love Interest To Be Woman, aka Evangeline Lilly. It's kind of Ironman light with more diverse comedy, the crew is out to stop Pym's old intern from selling Yellowjacket to the government, which would then use it to drone-strike everyone on the planet or something BigBusiness and Government are bad or whatever the kids on the internet are saying at this moment, hey they are our demographic right guys? The interesting tidbit of Ant-Man being the first comic book movie to deal with a second iteration of a character, a comic book staple of a mentor training his protege to don and take over a super hero identity, isn't really focused on because hey, Rudd is pretty charming and the whole movie is kind of filler for the next MCU super blockbuster that he can then appear in, right?
The missed opportunities and nuance be damned, because Marvel once again just makes a fun movie to sit back and watch. And hoooh boy, is this that type of movie. Training montages? Origin stories? Nostalgic looks back and the Soviet Cold war? Vaguely threatening slippery slope government types? This movie encapsulates everything that worked in those other MCU movies and boils it down to it's audience-friendly most. However it is the non-standard flairs that actually stand out and make Ant-Man fun. When the plot goes away from all the white people problems and gets a little colorful the humor enters into it's own. A fight early on with the Falcon is a diverse breath of fresh air (or is it? Captain America would have been a stronger cameo but no where near as fun either) but Lang's crew of wacky ethnic sidekicks give the film a funny kick in the shorts that Rudd plays off of wonderfully. When its Douglas' show all you can wonder is if the old Wolf of Wallstreet is just hoping his Pym stock price doesn't fall. But the movie's humor shines when Luis gives Stan Lee his best cameo yet. Added to that an exciting finale that takes too long to come (but since it involves a fight inside a crowded briefcase and on a Thomas the Train toy train set it's forgiven), and Ant-Man provides enough laughs and action to prevent 2 hours from crawling by.
The questions aren't all answered unfortunately. Wright's version, would it have been more humor driven, more Scott Pilgrim-like and idiosyncratic than Scott Lang pathos and melodramatic? What if Pym had invented Ultron instead of Stark like the comics foretold, it was just a couple months ago after all, would have a cameo in Avengers 2 been that hard (it would have at least provided more backstory and interest to both films, and Ant-Man was a founding Avenger after all)? And why merrily skip by the science without even attempting to explain the gobbedygoop, its fraught with unspoken SciFi mcguffins? How did this movie achieve the feat of making creepy crawly bugs cute sidekicks that aren't grossing every woman man and child out? Why earn the PG13 with a lot of out of place cursing? How long can MCU go without making a terrible film? And how did one of the biggest inside jokes in comic-dom, the infamously unfamous Ant-Man, get his own blockbuster comic book film that kids and adults adore? Let's see DC pull that off with The Atom.
7.5 Tales to Astonish out of 10 (GOOD)
Dope (2015)
Dope (R)
"Slippery Slope N(word)"
From the slums of Englewood comes the story of Malcolm, a geeky straight A student trying to get into Harvard. At times joyfully refreshingly new, others painfully derivative, Dope is at the least an interesting new voice supplied by a new actor in a landscape of bland dull remakes of whitewashed Hollywood entertainment.
Dope begins with a 90s HipHop nostalgia, a groovy kind of energy that introduces us to Malcolm's world of the hood, a place where you can get shot for no reason but also most people don't. It's not a gloomy, trash ridden cess pit, it's a place where real people live and eat food and kids form punk bands and dream of escaping. Where not every household is broken (though quite a few are), and not every car is a low rider (just some), not every black man is a thug (but watch your backpack). Malcolm is not your average black kid either. Played with geeky-awkward-perfection by new comer Shameik Moore, Malcolm like many of his peers, must at some point give up his Yo MTV Raps childhood and make some tough life decisions. This is of course the point of the film, but is also where it loses much of it's fun.
Imagine if SuperBad stopped goofing and laughing about halfway though because it was time for "the point," and you have the toughest selling point of Dope. Now, there is no contention that a kid in Malcolm's hood, his age with his situation wouldn't run afoul of some hard choices. However the way it is handled is a bit nonsensical and confusing, and is quite a shock going from a happy-go-lucky "myfriendsarecoolbutIwantagirlfriend&nevermetmydad" to drug dealing bitcoin memes stand ins. The motivations to do so are unclear, and the tacked on romantic angle is exactly that, tacked on because every film has that. On the other hand, there really isn't another film like this, with this strong of an African-American voice and music and fashion, that is respectful and realistic and un exaggerated. And yet it also dips into amateurish tropes (the cliche white guy hacker/stoner, the dropped subplots loss of focus, the aformentioned romantic subplot, the sometimes dippy dialogue of the other characters) muddles the message and also sometimes fumbles the humor. However the acid washed sunsets and dayglo sneaker design of the production and a solid cinematographic base lend much to it's Indy cred. Like Do The Right Thing the preachiness that, yes, preaches the ending must be allowed since a young man like Malcolm so infrequently allowed a soapbox to kick it from.
7 Gotta Say it was a Good Day out of 10 (GOOD)
"Slippery Slope N(word)"
From the slums of Englewood comes the story of Malcolm, a geeky straight A student trying to get into Harvard. At times joyfully refreshingly new, others painfully derivative, Dope is at the least an interesting new voice supplied by a new actor in a landscape of bland dull remakes of whitewashed Hollywood entertainment.
Dope begins with a 90s HipHop nostalgia, a groovy kind of energy that introduces us to Malcolm's world of the hood, a place where you can get shot for no reason but also most people don't. It's not a gloomy, trash ridden cess pit, it's a place where real people live and eat food and kids form punk bands and dream of escaping. Where not every household is broken (though quite a few are), and not every car is a low rider (just some), not every black man is a thug (but watch your backpack). Malcolm is not your average black kid either. Played with geeky-awkward-perfection by new comer Shameik Moore, Malcolm like many of his peers, must at some point give up his Yo MTV Raps childhood and make some tough life decisions. This is of course the point of the film, but is also where it loses much of it's fun.
Imagine if SuperBad stopped goofing and laughing about halfway though because it was time for "the point," and you have the toughest selling point of Dope. Now, there is no contention that a kid in Malcolm's hood, his age with his situation wouldn't run afoul of some hard choices. However the way it is handled is a bit nonsensical and confusing, and is quite a shock going from a happy-go-lucky "myfriendsarecoolbutIwantagirlfriend&nevermetmydad" to drug dealing bitcoin memes stand ins. The motivations to do so are unclear, and the tacked on romantic angle is exactly that, tacked on because every film has that. On the other hand, there really isn't another film like this, with this strong of an African-American voice and music and fashion, that is respectful and realistic and un exaggerated. And yet it also dips into amateurish tropes (the cliche white guy hacker/stoner, the dropped subplots loss of focus, the aformentioned romantic subplot, the sometimes dippy dialogue of the other characters) muddles the message and also sometimes fumbles the humor. However the acid washed sunsets and dayglo sneaker design of the production and a solid cinematographic base lend much to it's Indy cred. Like Do The Right Thing the preachiness that, yes, preaches the ending must be allowed since a young man like Malcolm so infrequently allowed a soapbox to kick it from.
7 Gotta Say it was a Good Day out of 10 (GOOD)
Inherent Vice (2015)
Inherent Vice (R) - Noir Review
"Smoke 'em if you got 'em"
Gordita Beach, LA County, SoCal, 1970. A stoned PI is approached by his beach bunny ex-girlfriend about a case that ends up involving surf bands, white yachts, billionaire Real estate developers being kidnapped, Indonesian Tar Heroin syndicates, Commie Black Lists, anti-subversive units of the LAPD, Dentists, kinky sex, overdose of drugs and not enough rock n roll in director P.T. Anderson's (The Master) adaptation of the infamous Tom Pynchon's famous novel, Inherent Vice.
Firstly, the acting is stupendous. The cast is led by Joaquin Phoenix as "Doc," the bleary eyed mumbling flat foot with a spliff and a straw sunhat instead of a Marlboro and fedora. His counter balance is with LAPD Detective "Bigfoot" Bjornsen, whose big shoes are filled with straight laced-rage and equal paranoia by Josh Brolin, bringing a much needed humor to his buttoned up meat head who likes to munch on frozen chocolate bananas. Other associates infiltrate the screen; Owen Wilson, Maya Rudolph, Martin Short (!) and Benicio Del Toro take turns at the absurd. But it's the femmes-(non)fatales that really shine with the leads, newishcomers Katherine Waterson sizzles with her own sensual light as Shasta the tricky ex and Joanna Newsome does a sunny double duty as a psychic friend and hippy dippy voice over narrator that really adds volumes to the post-60s ambiance.
Cinematographer Robert Elswit (BoogieNights and others) again gives PTA some knockout frames, and like Doc you may feel like someone slipped you a PCP spiked-joint filled with beautiful smoky colors that will put you on your ass, out cold. We, however, cannot avoid the bummers, and they are not hallucinations, we think? The manic energy of Anderson's earlier films is again missing when it is most sorely missed. This movie is a somber downer, but that itself isn't a criticism, the story is supposed to be a fuzzy headed hangover of a meandering Noir plot, memories of the night before terribly hard to dredge up through the haze of marijuana killed brain cells. However the red-veined eyes rarely ever impacts the lens, things are SAID and not VISUALIZED, which is a shocking misunderstanding of the book for a master visualist like PTA and company. This film has reverent regard for the source material, and to be sure this is one of the most faithful adaptations of a book, but instead of showing plot points the movie often only druggedly slurs them. This may make the plot over-complicated for some, extremely frustrating for others, where in the novel the clarity of the printed page helped somewhat.
The book? As a very faithful adaptation of the words, the film often sadly misses the novel's purpose. PTA's Inherent Vice is best when it riffs on the source material instead of sex-slavishly regurgitates it. The more exaggerated Cop vs Private Eye relationship is great stuff, the additional slap stick and notebook gags (which sadly stop about half way through) bring needed comic relief. The wish would be that PTA made more of those decisions instead of being 90% the page, which it is. For instead of being able to concentrate on the film, it brings up what was necessarily removed to achieve it's almost too long run time. The character of the places is almost gone, the surfer lifestyle mixed with the death of the 60s, the hectic surf music on the Dodge's radio dial, the post-Manson paranoia, the foggy beaches and scruffy surfers driving around in woodies and eating whole pies at delicatessens at midnight, this whole liver of the piece has been removed, and so the audience is left with the skeleton of the story with much of it's corpulent flesh shaved away, a junkie on a diet. Since music and moving pictures is what Anderson does best, it is a double downer that the soundtrack isn't affecting or period blaring rocknroll. Meanwhile everything else being so tied to the exact wording has hamstrung the film from the jazz-like improvisation that energized his early work or the darkly simpatico rhythms that fueled the madness of There Will Be Blood or The Master. Vice could really have used some of those offbeat vibes, and loudly.
And yet for every bad acid trip there is a good, and every scene Waterson's Shasta appears in outshines every other, even the Doc/Bigfoot bromances (which are subtly fantastic). The way the camera captures her, the way she embodies the poisonous image of "the ex," is obviously the focal point of Anderson's emotional reasons for making this film and wonderfully transports us to the mindset of a man hungup on a dame no matter how hard he tries. Her couch scene is worth the price of admission alone, for the reasons of her brazen acting courage, beautiful camera work, naturalness of environment, raw emotion and savage desires. Doc's feelings for Shasta aren't stated, they are shown, a tortuously toxic turn-on that he hides beneath layers of denial. It is a fascinating relationship, and a wonderfully realized hippy version of the black widow from noir-past as originally envisioned by Pynchon. It's an outstanding scene in a good film, and not the only one. They all have great acting and direction and cinematic panache, the entire film does. And yet the movie isn't great on its own, at least not yet. Perhaps with more viewings, as with the Master and yet so unlike his other films, that scenes that were great will overwhelm the rest and force it's entirety to greatness. *Sad Sax Solo* But unlike the movies whose company it wants to join, the neo-noir classics like Polanski's Chinatown or Altman's The Long Goodbye, Inherent Vice in the end fizzles like a wet zigzag joint (surprising for a writer so dedicated to fantastic endings and last words, even the book's ending has more punch). Perhaps, with time and a little TLC, Inherent Vice will blaze brightly, heavily potent and without it's (and our) former hangups to get in the way of letting us fade into the hazy spicy smoke of a complicated good time.
7 Painted Lady Neck Ties out of 10 (GOOD)
"Smoke 'em if you got 'em"
Gordita Beach, LA County, SoCal, 1970. A stoned PI is approached by his beach bunny ex-girlfriend about a case that ends up involving surf bands, white yachts, billionaire Real estate developers being kidnapped, Indonesian Tar Heroin syndicates, Commie Black Lists, anti-subversive units of the LAPD, Dentists, kinky sex, overdose of drugs and not enough rock n roll in director P.T. Anderson's (The Master) adaptation of the infamous Tom Pynchon's famous novel, Inherent Vice.
Firstly, the acting is stupendous. The cast is led by Joaquin Phoenix as "Doc," the bleary eyed mumbling flat foot with a spliff and a straw sunhat instead of a Marlboro and fedora. His counter balance is with LAPD Detective "Bigfoot" Bjornsen, whose big shoes are filled with straight laced-rage and equal paranoia by Josh Brolin, bringing a much needed humor to his buttoned up meat head who likes to munch on frozen chocolate bananas. Other associates infiltrate the screen; Owen Wilson, Maya Rudolph, Martin Short (!) and Benicio Del Toro take turns at the absurd. But it's the femmes-(non)fatales that really shine with the leads, newishcomers Katherine Waterson sizzles with her own sensual light as Shasta the tricky ex and Joanna Newsome does a sunny double duty as a psychic friend and hippy dippy voice over narrator that really adds volumes to the post-60s ambiance.
Cinematographer Robert Elswit (BoogieNights and others) again gives PTA some knockout frames, and like Doc you may feel like someone slipped you a PCP spiked-joint filled with beautiful smoky colors that will put you on your ass, out cold. We, however, cannot avoid the bummers, and they are not hallucinations, we think? The manic energy of Anderson's earlier films is again missing when it is most sorely missed. This movie is a somber downer, but that itself isn't a criticism, the story is supposed to be a fuzzy headed hangover of a meandering Noir plot, memories of the night before terribly hard to dredge up through the haze of marijuana killed brain cells. However the red-veined eyes rarely ever impacts the lens, things are SAID and not VISUALIZED, which is a shocking misunderstanding of the book for a master visualist like PTA and company. This film has reverent regard for the source material, and to be sure this is one of the most faithful adaptations of a book, but instead of showing plot points the movie often only druggedly slurs them. This may make the plot over-complicated for some, extremely frustrating for others, where in the novel the clarity of the printed page helped somewhat.
The book? As a very faithful adaptation of the words, the film often sadly misses the novel's purpose. PTA's Inherent Vice is best when it riffs on the source material instead of sex-slavishly regurgitates it. The more exaggerated Cop vs Private Eye relationship is great stuff, the additional slap stick and notebook gags (which sadly stop about half way through) bring needed comic relief. The wish would be that PTA made more of those decisions instead of being 90% the page, which it is. For instead of being able to concentrate on the film, it brings up what was necessarily removed to achieve it's almost too long run time. The character of the places is almost gone, the surfer lifestyle mixed with the death of the 60s, the hectic surf music on the Dodge's radio dial, the post-Manson paranoia, the foggy beaches and scruffy surfers driving around in woodies and eating whole pies at delicatessens at midnight, this whole liver of the piece has been removed, and so the audience is left with the skeleton of the story with much of it's corpulent flesh shaved away, a junkie on a diet. Since music and moving pictures is what Anderson does best, it is a double downer that the soundtrack isn't affecting or period blaring rocknroll. Meanwhile everything else being so tied to the exact wording has hamstrung the film from the jazz-like improvisation that energized his early work or the darkly simpatico rhythms that fueled the madness of There Will Be Blood or The Master. Vice could really have used some of those offbeat vibes, and loudly.
And yet for every bad acid trip there is a good, and every scene Waterson's Shasta appears in outshines every other, even the Doc/Bigfoot bromances (which are subtly fantastic). The way the camera captures her, the way she embodies the poisonous image of "the ex," is obviously the focal point of Anderson's emotional reasons for making this film and wonderfully transports us to the mindset of a man hungup on a dame no matter how hard he tries. Her couch scene is worth the price of admission alone, for the reasons of her brazen acting courage, beautiful camera work, naturalness of environment, raw emotion and savage desires. Doc's feelings for Shasta aren't stated, they are shown, a tortuously toxic turn-on that he hides beneath layers of denial. It is a fascinating relationship, and a wonderfully realized hippy version of the black widow from noir-past as originally envisioned by Pynchon. It's an outstanding scene in a good film, and not the only one. They all have great acting and direction and cinematic panache, the entire film does. And yet the movie isn't great on its own, at least not yet. Perhaps with more viewings, as with the Master and yet so unlike his other films, that scenes that were great will overwhelm the rest and force it's entirety to greatness. *Sad Sax Solo* But unlike the movies whose company it wants to join, the neo-noir classics like Polanski's Chinatown or Altman's The Long Goodbye, Inherent Vice in the end fizzles like a wet zigzag joint (surprising for a writer so dedicated to fantastic endings and last words, even the book's ending has more punch). Perhaps, with time and a little TLC, Inherent Vice will blaze brightly, heavily potent and without it's (and our) former hangups to get in the way of letting us fade into the hazy spicy smoke of a complicated good time.
7 Painted Lady Neck Ties out of 10 (GOOD)
Boyhood (2014)
Boyhood (R) - Review
"Years pass like seconds, minutes like hours"
A boy and his family grow up, through thick and thin, through 12 years of life in Texas in Director Richard Linklater's newest experimental film in long-distance filmmaking, the first real time coming of age picture
Actually spanning these years, watching an actor grow from childhood to adulthood onscreen in accelerated real-time as his family also grows and morphs, is a fascinating exercise in spatial filmmaking; joining up year after year (the music and styles and car-fads are the only clue what year the characters are living in at the moment, which zoom forward without provocation). It's a video diary of a generation, the post 9-11 children and their families, ups and downs, divorces and new found loves zipping by as the hairstyles go from mullets/Biebers/Emo/to Hipsters.
However, the necessarily amateur acting detracts from the believability, having child actors that grow into adult actors that can never quite act hurts the suspension of crucial disbelief. The start of the film has some tense moments with a drunk stepdad or family fights, but about half-way through the film all the characters settle down into this tepid groove of suburban life that, while may be real, is not very absorbing. The boy of the title, Mason, is the kind of sullen eyed aimless kid who won't tear himself away from a game screen for half a second to say hello, the kind of child we've all met and felt a little slighted by. His sister is a charming goof, his dad (Ethan Hawk) is a tousled hair loser, his mom a caring overstressed hen (Patricia Arquette). The family dynamic itself is interesting, yet they all surround a kid who is very unrelateable and, dare we say, almost unlikable? And at nearly 3 hours, Boyhood may invoke a feeling of family just at it's sheer length of exposure you are inflicted to, like a distant relative whose opinion is ignored off hand: "No Mason, why would you gauge your ears, do you know what you'd look like when you're 80?" He shrugs, digs out cereal bowl.
Boyhood (which is a bit of a misnomer considering the other characters get almost as much screen time as Mason, or at least are more interesting) feels like some of the other nostalgia pieces of Linklater's, whether it's the Austin Weirdness of Slacker or the High School weed-glow in Dazed and Confused. Some of it seems rewrtitten from these other movies, the underage drinking and drug use are such low hanging fruit that they feel out of place here, not every generation is doomed to repeat the previous' fun and mayhem, and not every kid will take a nip from a flask if asked to. The only difference here is that Richard isn't that personally nostalgic about the Iraq War, or Honda MiniVans or Game Boy Advances, and it shows. Stapling these emotions from his 70s boyhood has a false feeling of disjointedness to the millennial events, and while literally watching a kid grow up from 6 to 18 is a fascinating experience, the film itself, the entertainment value, is the same as watching a strangers home movies without anyone to answer your questions, "Aren't these kids cute but where are they living now, that must be his uncle I guess, when did she start dating him, seriously there is a whole other hour left on the tape???" There are whole 15 minute scenes that seem superfluous, and when your movie is a nearly 3 hour long family drama one could think it's runtime very excessive.
Narrative-wise, fun-wise, script-wise, acting-wise, it's not Linklater's best by a long shot (and he has done great before). Concept wise, it being a literal time-lapse photograph of a human being, like a stretched out youtube vid of the picture a month variety (turned into a scene a year in Boyhood), is fantastic and it's execution remarkable (that Linklater had to leave provisions for the film to be finished in the event of his untimely death speaks volumes about the commitment and energy of all involved). Unfortunately the mundane plot, length per entertainment value and overall distance of emotion left us with a dissenting opinion that unlike our own sunbeam dreanched childhood, this is something we won't be reminiscing about anytime soon.
6 Watching Human Grass Grow out of 10 (GOOD)
"Years pass like seconds, minutes like hours"
A boy and his family grow up, through thick and thin, through 12 years of life in Texas in Director Richard Linklater's newest experimental film in long-distance filmmaking, the first real time coming of age picture
Actually spanning these years, watching an actor grow from childhood to adulthood onscreen in accelerated real-time as his family also grows and morphs, is a fascinating exercise in spatial filmmaking; joining up year after year (the music and styles and car-fads are the only clue what year the characters are living in at the moment, which zoom forward without provocation). It's a video diary of a generation, the post 9-11 children and their families, ups and downs, divorces and new found loves zipping by as the hairstyles go from mullets/Biebers/Emo/to Hipsters.
However, the necessarily amateur acting detracts from the believability, having child actors that grow into adult actors that can never quite act hurts the suspension of crucial disbelief. The start of the film has some tense moments with a drunk stepdad or family fights, but about half-way through the film all the characters settle down into this tepid groove of suburban life that, while may be real, is not very absorbing. The boy of the title, Mason, is the kind of sullen eyed aimless kid who won't tear himself away from a game screen for half a second to say hello, the kind of child we've all met and felt a little slighted by. His sister is a charming goof, his dad (Ethan Hawk) is a tousled hair loser, his mom a caring overstressed hen (Patricia Arquette). The family dynamic itself is interesting, yet they all surround a kid who is very unrelateable and, dare we say, almost unlikable? And at nearly 3 hours, Boyhood may invoke a feeling of family just at it's sheer length of exposure you are inflicted to, like a distant relative whose opinion is ignored off hand: "No Mason, why would you gauge your ears, do you know what you'd look like when you're 80?" He shrugs, digs out cereal bowl.
Boyhood (which is a bit of a misnomer considering the other characters get almost as much screen time as Mason, or at least are more interesting) feels like some of the other nostalgia pieces of Linklater's, whether it's the Austin Weirdness of Slacker or the High School weed-glow in Dazed and Confused. Some of it seems rewrtitten from these other movies, the underage drinking and drug use are such low hanging fruit that they feel out of place here, not every generation is doomed to repeat the previous' fun and mayhem, and not every kid will take a nip from a flask if asked to. The only difference here is that Richard isn't that personally nostalgic about the Iraq War, or Honda MiniVans or Game Boy Advances, and it shows. Stapling these emotions from his 70s boyhood has a false feeling of disjointedness to the millennial events, and while literally watching a kid grow up from 6 to 18 is a fascinating experience, the film itself, the entertainment value, is the same as watching a strangers home movies without anyone to answer your questions, "Aren't these kids cute but where are they living now, that must be his uncle I guess, when did she start dating him, seriously there is a whole other hour left on the tape???" There are whole 15 minute scenes that seem superfluous, and when your movie is a nearly 3 hour long family drama one could think it's runtime very excessive.
Narrative-wise, fun-wise, script-wise, acting-wise, it's not Linklater's best by a long shot (and he has done great before). Concept wise, it being a literal time-lapse photograph of a human being, like a stretched out youtube vid of the picture a month variety (turned into a scene a year in Boyhood), is fantastic and it's execution remarkable (that Linklater had to leave provisions for the film to be finished in the event of his untimely death speaks volumes about the commitment and energy of all involved). Unfortunately the mundane plot, length per entertainment value and overall distance of emotion left us with a dissenting opinion that unlike our own sunbeam dreanched childhood, this is something we won't be reminiscing about anytime soon.
6 Watching Human Grass Grow out of 10 (GOOD)
Wolfcop (2014)
Wolfcop (R)
"Hair of the Dog that bit ya"
An small town alcoholic Deputy in Canada's Great White North is terrible at his job. He drinks, he's late, he's lazy, he's hungover, ...he drinks. But when he gets cursed one night by a cult of shape shifters in the woods he becomes one hairy, scary, extraordinary law enforcement officer!
Granted Wolfcop has a slow start, and until the movie's first transformation kicks in there is a lot of heel dragging and iffy acting (but it's only 78 minutes so hang in there!). Once he transforms (and wait till you see WHAT transforms first), the movie's gore and humor kick it way past its cheapo one-idea script. The make up is dollar store wigs and makeup with some rubber hands so you'll never confuse this with an American Werewolf in London remake (its more along the lines of Canadian WereWolf in Saskatchewan with Strange Brew thrown in for good measure). Fueled by whiskey, driven to serve and protect (or is it sever and project?), Wolfcop is lewd, rude and in the nude with a tasty 1980's horror style and soundtrack (and love scene, ick). Much rougher and ghetto-er than it's Canadian cousin "Hobo With A Shotgun," Wolfcop nonetheless attains coolness as he wolfs down donuts and booze in his tricked out squad car on the icy roads of justice.
Next time team him up with BioCop!
6.5 Hip Hop Theme Songs over Credits out of 10 (GOOD)
"Hair of the Dog that bit ya"
An small town alcoholic Deputy in Canada's Great White North is terrible at his job. He drinks, he's late, he's lazy, he's hungover, ...he drinks. But when he gets cursed one night by a cult of shape shifters in the woods he becomes one hairy, scary, extraordinary law enforcement officer!
Granted Wolfcop has a slow start, and until the movie's first transformation kicks in there is a lot of heel dragging and iffy acting (but it's only 78 minutes so hang in there!). Once he transforms (and wait till you see WHAT transforms first), the movie's gore and humor kick it way past its cheapo one-idea script. The make up is dollar store wigs and makeup with some rubber hands so you'll never confuse this with an American Werewolf in London remake (its more along the lines of Canadian WereWolf in Saskatchewan with Strange Brew thrown in for good measure). Fueled by whiskey, driven to serve and protect (or is it sever and project?), Wolfcop is lewd, rude and in the nude with a tasty 1980's horror style and soundtrack (and love scene, ick). Much rougher and ghetto-er than it's Canadian cousin "Hobo With A Shotgun," Wolfcop nonetheless attains coolness as he wolfs down donuts and booze in his tricked out squad car on the icy roads of justice.
Next time team him up with BioCop!
6.5 Hip Hop Theme Songs over Credits out of 10 (GOOD)
It Follows (2014)
It Follows (R)
A College student enters into a new sexual relationship which leads her to a new life of terror in the anxiety ridden yet only subjectively effective It Follows.
Indy Horror can be a mixed bag, for when something goodish comes around the starving fan base and critics fall over themselves to fawn. And while the dream like pulse-pounding instinctual fear of the first third of the movie is wonderful film making that retains a gorgeous cinematographic look of suburban Detroit and its surrounding environs, the creep comes to an abrupt halt about half way through and then continues to dig it's own grave by breaking it's already established rules and being obviously obtuse.
There is still a lot interesting here and if the movie lived up to it's first half then it would indeed be the "scariest movie of the decade." Well, considering the decade it still might be, for it's not the 80s anymore. It Follows has a preternatural fear instilled in it, the feeling of being stalked is captured vividly, hackles will rise. Inspired by dreams the film maker had as a child, the way the camera moves and the antagonist's slow pursuit will set off the alarm bells in your head and heart. Good acting, odd production values and strange music (the synth sounds, old tube televisions, big back seated cars and no cell phones are invoking a 70s-80s spin on the present that homages back to the genre's and filmmaker's roots), its all an elaborate technique to throw the audience into a unknown situation filled with panic, forcing them to scan the screen constantly for the bad guy. It's a slow, terrifying trip that ends too soon.
For then there is that scene on the beach and the specter of supernatural CG on a shoe string budget snaps the suspension of belief. When they come into actual physical contact the buzz and creep and anxiety melts away as it becomes another "YAs vs. the thing movie." Suddenly "It Follows" stops following its own urgent rules and just literally stands and stares instead. It was a fantastic premise that unfortunately someone had to write a semi-commercial ending for. It's not bad, it just isn't as strong as what followed.
And yet the first half is stellar, the look and work of the camera stunning, the emotional under pinning of parental child-abuse (physical and sexual), the dangers of sensual awakenings and the prepubescent fear of sex, so much works and all hackles were risen. Yet while the ending turns out to be a simple parable (me and you against the world, baby) the film will probably have you looking over your shoulder for a couple days, and that might earn "It Follows" a place in your nightmares, just not the history books.
7 Soggy Arm Casts out of 10 (GOOD)
A College student enters into a new sexual relationship which leads her to a new life of terror in the anxiety ridden yet only subjectively effective It Follows.
Indy Horror can be a mixed bag, for when something goodish comes around the starving fan base and critics fall over themselves to fawn. And while the dream like pulse-pounding instinctual fear of the first third of the movie is wonderful film making that retains a gorgeous cinematographic look of suburban Detroit and its surrounding environs, the creep comes to an abrupt halt about half way through and then continues to dig it's own grave by breaking it's already established rules and being obviously obtuse.
There is still a lot interesting here and if the movie lived up to it's first half then it would indeed be the "scariest movie of the decade." Well, considering the decade it still might be, for it's not the 80s anymore. It Follows has a preternatural fear instilled in it, the feeling of being stalked is captured vividly, hackles will rise. Inspired by dreams the film maker had as a child, the way the camera moves and the antagonist's slow pursuit will set off the alarm bells in your head and heart. Good acting, odd production values and strange music (the synth sounds, old tube televisions, big back seated cars and no cell phones are invoking a 70s-80s spin on the present that homages back to the genre's and filmmaker's roots), its all an elaborate technique to throw the audience into a unknown situation filled with panic, forcing them to scan the screen constantly for the bad guy. It's a slow, terrifying trip that ends too soon.
For then there is that scene on the beach and the specter of supernatural CG on a shoe string budget snaps the suspension of belief. When they come into actual physical contact the buzz and creep and anxiety melts away as it becomes another "YAs vs. the thing movie." Suddenly "It Follows" stops following its own urgent rules and just literally stands and stares instead. It was a fantastic premise that unfortunately someone had to write a semi-commercial ending for. It's not bad, it just isn't as strong as what followed.
And yet the first half is stellar, the look and work of the camera stunning, the emotional under pinning of parental child-abuse (physical and sexual), the dangers of sensual awakenings and the prepubescent fear of sex, so much works and all hackles were risen. Yet while the ending turns out to be a simple parable (me and you against the world, baby) the film will probably have you looking over your shoulder for a couple days, and that might earn "It Follows" a place in your nightmares, just not the history books.
7 Soggy Arm Casts out of 10 (GOOD)
Guardians Of The Galaxy (2014)
Guardians Of The Galaxy (PG-13)
"Hooked on a feeling"
The MCU dives into its funky cosmic side with a swaggering explosion filled romp that is as irreverent as it is irrelevant, raucously audacious enough to break its own molds and yet offering only simple lower class pleasures with a cast so utterly charming that audiences will have to shrug off any misgivings, even though they are watching a Marvel stepping stone to the great film that may someday come.
Chris Pratt's (The Lego Movie) patented brand of doe-eyed mischievousness fills the role of Star-Lord Peter Quill to the brim, creating a sensational addition to the archetype SciFi oversexed treasure-hunting rouge, overflowing with snarktastic bon mots and anachronisms from his departed Earthly mother's love of 70s pop music mixtapes The rest of the crew is stocked with unusual weirdos-banding-together types; Bradley Cooper (The Hangover) is a CGI Space-Raccoon with a violent love of firearms, his close companion is a space tree voiced by Vin Diesel (Riddick) who can only utter the words "I am Groot", Drax the Destroyer is a musclebound straight-shooter without an ounce of irony played by former WWE champion Bautista, and the adopted daughter of the villainous Thanos (remember him from the Avengers post credit sequence?), the soon-to-be-girlfriended assassin Gamora played by Zoe Saldana (2009 Star Trek).
The runtime of GOTG entails the finding of a mysterious orb, infighting over the orb, having to escape from space prison with orb, try to sell the orb without pirate intrusion, having the orb stolen by the bad guy Ronan the Accuser who intends to blow up a planet with the orb only to have the Guardians try to guard against it. It's really not Shakespeare or Asimov, but its filled with improvisational humor and rowdy fun that is greatly increased by a sunny musicality that overpowers the film's often brutally grim vibe. GOTG's largest saving grace is that ragtag crew; their banter is naturalistic and wonderfully contains a solid dose of the PG13 bad words. It's the best SciFi spaceopera ship and it's crew since the original Star Wars 1977, but hold onto your space horses buckaroos. Everything isn't all Attack Ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion, even if the open-shirted Han Solo swagger cons you into starry eyed distraction.
The action doesn't come through with much impact or heft, sad to say the fight scenes feel almost unrehearsed (that was attempted to be glossed over with CG that overall also wasn't of the highest grade). The Collector (first seen in Thor 2) is once again played by the incomparable Benicio del Toro (Way of the Gun), whose over the top performance and alien mannerisms are sadly underused with little screen time, what there is is great stuff. Same goes for the incredible casting of ensemble comedian John C. Reilly (Boogie Nights) as a Nova Corps officer who briefly gets a moment to shine. Ok, so the film really just wants to point the lazer-spotlight on Quill and company (understandable), but meanwhile the cardboard villain Ronan gets almost zero backstory and so little motivation for his genocidal quest that he is one easily upped by the all-to-brief appearance of Thanos (who all Marvelites know to be the overall heavy in some faroff film that will be made...later). There is just so much underused material from the Cosmic Marvel Universe (encompassing all the biggest and most creative stories from the books, especially those by Jim Starling), that to throw the audience into it without explanation is understandable yet still a shame. While this is obviously a specific choice to avoid the morass of that insane big picture, completely leaving it unsaid leaves the film one of the lightest piece in the Marvel Film Puzzle. There's nothing wrong with light entertainment, but those seeking even a little Space Odyssey in their Cosmos won't find any.
Still, without hesitation it is a very fun romp in a Galaxy far far away, the first real spiritual successor of the original Star Wars film married with the whimsical tone and aesthetic of the Original Star Trek palette (dayglo skin tones mixed with candy colored backgrounds). They caught a special magic lightning in the bottle with this crew (except for overall blankness of Zoe's portrayal and role), but the adventure is a straightforward affair that offers almost nothing surprising (the spaceprison escape, for example, can be found in any number of pulp SciFi paperbacks rotting away in your brothers basement). However the biggest detractor, for this critic, would be that in the overall series that comprises the entire MCU, Guardians can only be considered a filler or time killer episode. Bereft of the the enormous Cosmic events that Marvel has been hinting at and fans have been slavering for, it onl teases yet again at the epic things to come (The Infinity Gems!). This too is understandable, Disney/Marvel are biding their time and dreaming of the cash that Avengers 2 or 3 or 4 (or Thor3, The Defenders, WHEN???) will make, as opposed to betting on the noname also-run like GOTG. As admirable as it is for Marv and team to even consider releasing a Guardians film at all (it's source material is the stuff of bargain bins and heavy-nerd cult followings), the buildup for something REALLY big and overarching is over 6 years old now. Perhaps this is expecting too much from a studio that has consistently overdelivered on almost all of their films (the boxoffice returns and lack of a critical bomb is supremely impressive in this day and age), but it is Marvel/Disney's fault if we are left wanting more, better and now, especially considering the stories are there, foreshadowed and ripe for the harvesting. Instead we get baby steps, now we know there is another gem and Thanos wants them supposedly.
Director James Gunn (also of 2010s Super, a much unappreciated indy satire of the comicbook medium) cribs a plethora of shortcuts from SciFi Space Operas that have come before, but is sorely lacking in actual action direction experience. The banter though, is sublime and works as well as any recent bro-comedy action film, like Channing/Hill except in space. Gunn squeezes so much fun and humor onto the screen that the zipping lazers and spaceship dying fireballs are not what you leave the film with an impression of. It is Pratt, dialing up his middle finger to his b-character typecasting, kicking up his heels with his walkman to retro tunes as he picks our pockets for popcorn money. All thanks to the Spirit In The Sky.
7.5 Big Blue Wrinkled Chins out of 10 (GOOD)
"Hooked on a feeling"
The MCU dives into its funky cosmic side with a swaggering explosion filled romp that is as irreverent as it is irrelevant, raucously audacious enough to break its own molds and yet offering only simple lower class pleasures with a cast so utterly charming that audiences will have to shrug off any misgivings, even though they are watching a Marvel stepping stone to the great film that may someday come.
Chris Pratt's (The Lego Movie) patented brand of doe-eyed mischievousness fills the role of Star-Lord Peter Quill to the brim, creating a sensational addition to the archetype SciFi oversexed treasure-hunting rouge, overflowing with snarktastic bon mots and anachronisms from his departed Earthly mother's love of 70s pop music mixtapes The rest of the crew is stocked with unusual weirdos-banding-together types; Bradley Cooper (The Hangover) is a CGI Space-Raccoon with a violent love of firearms, his close companion is a space tree voiced by Vin Diesel (Riddick) who can only utter the words "I am Groot", Drax the Destroyer is a musclebound straight-shooter without an ounce of irony played by former WWE champion Bautista, and the adopted daughter of the villainous Thanos (remember him from the Avengers post credit sequence?), the soon-to-be-girlfriended assassin Gamora played by Zoe Saldana (2009 Star Trek).
The runtime of GOTG entails the finding of a mysterious orb, infighting over the orb, having to escape from space prison with orb, try to sell the orb without pirate intrusion, having the orb stolen by the bad guy Ronan the Accuser who intends to blow up a planet with the orb only to have the Guardians try to guard against it. It's really not Shakespeare or Asimov, but its filled with improvisational humor and rowdy fun that is greatly increased by a sunny musicality that overpowers the film's often brutally grim vibe. GOTG's largest saving grace is that ragtag crew; their banter is naturalistic and wonderfully contains a solid dose of the PG13 bad words. It's the best SciFi spaceopera ship and it's crew since the original Star Wars 1977, but hold onto your space horses buckaroos. Everything isn't all Attack Ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion, even if the open-shirted Han Solo swagger cons you into starry eyed distraction.
The action doesn't come through with much impact or heft, sad to say the fight scenes feel almost unrehearsed (that was attempted to be glossed over with CG that overall also wasn't of the highest grade). The Collector (first seen in Thor 2) is once again played by the incomparable Benicio del Toro (Way of the Gun), whose over the top performance and alien mannerisms are sadly underused with little screen time, what there is is great stuff. Same goes for the incredible casting of ensemble comedian John C. Reilly (Boogie Nights) as a Nova Corps officer who briefly gets a moment to shine. Ok, so the film really just wants to point the lazer-spotlight on Quill and company (understandable), but meanwhile the cardboard villain Ronan gets almost zero backstory and so little motivation for his genocidal quest that he is one easily upped by the all-to-brief appearance of Thanos (who all Marvelites know to be the overall heavy in some faroff film that will be made...later). There is just so much underused material from the Cosmic Marvel Universe (encompassing all the biggest and most creative stories from the books, especially those by Jim Starling), that to throw the audience into it without explanation is understandable yet still a shame. While this is obviously a specific choice to avoid the morass of that insane big picture, completely leaving it unsaid leaves the film one of the lightest piece in the Marvel Film Puzzle. There's nothing wrong with light entertainment, but those seeking even a little Space Odyssey in their Cosmos won't find any.
Still, without hesitation it is a very fun romp in a Galaxy far far away, the first real spiritual successor of the original Star Wars film married with the whimsical tone and aesthetic of the Original Star Trek palette (dayglo skin tones mixed with candy colored backgrounds). They caught a special magic lightning in the bottle with this crew (except for overall blankness of Zoe's portrayal and role), but the adventure is a straightforward affair that offers almost nothing surprising (the spaceprison escape, for example, can be found in any number of pulp SciFi paperbacks rotting away in your brothers basement). However the biggest detractor, for this critic, would be that in the overall series that comprises the entire MCU, Guardians can only be considered a filler or time killer episode. Bereft of the the enormous Cosmic events that Marvel has been hinting at and fans have been slavering for, it onl teases yet again at the epic things to come (The Infinity Gems!). This too is understandable, Disney/Marvel are biding their time and dreaming of the cash that Avengers 2 or 3 or 4 (or Thor3, The Defenders, WHEN???) will make, as opposed to betting on the noname also-run like GOTG. As admirable as it is for Marv and team to even consider releasing a Guardians film at all (it's source material is the stuff of bargain bins and heavy-nerd cult followings), the buildup for something REALLY big and overarching is over 6 years old now. Perhaps this is expecting too much from a studio that has consistently overdelivered on almost all of their films (the boxoffice returns and lack of a critical bomb is supremely impressive in this day and age), but it is Marvel/Disney's fault if we are left wanting more, better and now, especially considering the stories are there, foreshadowed and ripe for the harvesting. Instead we get baby steps, now we know there is another gem and Thanos wants them supposedly.
Director James Gunn (also of 2010s Super, a much unappreciated indy satire of the comicbook medium) cribs a plethora of shortcuts from SciFi Space Operas that have come before, but is sorely lacking in actual action direction experience. The banter though, is sublime and works as well as any recent bro-comedy action film, like Channing/Hill except in space. Gunn squeezes so much fun and humor onto the screen that the zipping lazers and spaceship dying fireballs are not what you leave the film with an impression of. It is Pratt, dialing up his middle finger to his b-character typecasting, kicking up his heels with his walkman to retro tunes as he picks our pockets for popcorn money. All thanks to the Spirit In The Sky.
7.5 Big Blue Wrinkled Chins out of 10 (GOOD)
Mr. Turner (2014)
Mr. Turner (R)
"Carmine Curmudgeon"
Mr. Turner tells of the later years of the famous English seascape painter JMW Turner, a man already famous for his genius at capturing the play of light on the sea on canvas. Played by grunting, rutting actor John Spall, Turner comes to life as a complicated and driven artist whose eccentricity is reflected in a purposely eccentric screenplay with fantastic photography and a meandering run time. Mr. Turner is certainly not everyone's cup of tea.
Going through his latter years, impacted by the loss of his father, becoming more and more reviled by the general public due to his evolving aesthetic (surreal and impressionistic, modern art before its time), Mr. Turner (the movie) is not your usual biographical film. It explains nearly nothing, leaves its audience to either know the backstory or not, leaves you to pick up the pieces from scraps of dialogue and hints of character. It's a challenging and long film, but as in most fiction a character is formed in the viewer's mind that is stronger than any exposition, and as gross or vulgar you may find Turner he is also as warm and compassionate sketch of a human. While incomplete as a biography, it none the less is entirely complete picture of a man, his wants and what drives him. Lashing himself to a mast to get a better look at a snow storm at sea, fiddling with the maid, sketching a prostitute, grieving the loss of his father, Turner is as complete a character study as is humanly possible. The blemishes and wrinkles of his life are on full display, and yet so is his unique English ways, his pride, his sorrows and artistic triumphs. Mr. Turner is not painted with broad strokes, but tiny flicks of the wrist that glorify and obfuscate the canvas of his life in a complicated and rich manner, in whom many will see the flawed nature and beauty of man mirrored as upon a calm lake at morning time.
7 Hog Jowls and History out of 10 (GOOD)
"Carmine Curmudgeon"
Mr. Turner tells of the later years of the famous English seascape painter JMW Turner, a man already famous for his genius at capturing the play of light on the sea on canvas. Played by grunting, rutting actor John Spall, Turner comes to life as a complicated and driven artist whose eccentricity is reflected in a purposely eccentric screenplay with fantastic photography and a meandering run time. Mr. Turner is certainly not everyone's cup of tea.
Going through his latter years, impacted by the loss of his father, becoming more and more reviled by the general public due to his evolving aesthetic (surreal and impressionistic, modern art before its time), Mr. Turner (the movie) is not your usual biographical film. It explains nearly nothing, leaves its audience to either know the backstory or not, leaves you to pick up the pieces from scraps of dialogue and hints of character. It's a challenging and long film, but as in most fiction a character is formed in the viewer's mind that is stronger than any exposition, and as gross or vulgar you may find Turner he is also as warm and compassionate sketch of a human. While incomplete as a biography, it none the less is entirely complete picture of a man, his wants and what drives him. Lashing himself to a mast to get a better look at a snow storm at sea, fiddling with the maid, sketching a prostitute, grieving the loss of his father, Turner is as complete a character study as is humanly possible. The blemishes and wrinkles of his life are on full display, and yet so is his unique English ways, his pride, his sorrows and artistic triumphs. Mr. Turner is not painted with broad strokes, but tiny flicks of the wrist that glorify and obfuscate the canvas of his life in a complicated and rich manner, in whom many will see the flawed nature and beauty of man mirrored as upon a calm lake at morning time.
7 Hog Jowls and History out of 10 (GOOD)
22 Jump Street (2014)
22 Jump Street (R) - Review
"If your friends jumped from a bridge...?"
The unlikely duo of Shmidt and Jenko are back and doing the same thing all over again in this improvisational sequel to the surprise 2012 hit. Jonah Hill (Wolf of Wall Street) and Channing Tatum (Side Effects) team up under perpetual grump Ice Cube to once again fight drugs, except now in college. Spoofing the cliches and overdone plot points of movie sequels themselves (returning supporting characters, expanded budgets, reworked plots), 22J is a self-referential snark that will make you laugh out loud. Yet some of the liquid gold has leaked from this franchise's Red Solo cup, draining it down to a just above average adult beverage from the overflowing bounty of the original.
"Same thing, again" apparently didn't make its way to the script department, for where the first film eschewed traditional remakes by lampooning characters/plots with outrageous improv comedy and smart twists on High School clique conventions, 22 toes the line of "college movie" tropes, drunk Frat boy jocks and wimpy Art School intellectuals that are standard issue college flick trope since the 1980s. Jenko and Shmidt suffer the 1st sequel blues (on purpose and as predicted right from the start by scruff-machismo-meister Nick Offerman), and the action feels a bit lacking despite the onscreen winks to doubled budgets. Even the original cast member cameo is reduced to a while-credits-roll one liner, and there are a stunning number of laughs locked into that credit sequence, where Hollywood franchises are met with scorn as future inevitable titles are screamed past the audience (23, 33,34,44, etc). Perhaps the pathos of their bromance breakup goes on too long, perhaps the action never lives up to the promised sequelitis of "same but bigger", perhaps the Spring Break sequence should have been expanded into more of a third act focus on skewering Hollywoodized college life instead of just a limited set piece. Jokes like "Art Degree? You won't make much money with that" and a slew of tired Old Jokes (mostly performed by actors who also aren't College age) show off the semi-lazy writing here. This is in stark contrast to the cool freshness of 21, but the charm and fun of Channing and Hill elevate the somewhat average semester, and if you laugh hard enough you'll still be able to get a nice buzz from the contact high.
6.5 Trash Compactors of Sadness out of 10 (GOOD)
"If your friends jumped from a bridge...?"
The unlikely duo of Shmidt and Jenko are back and doing the same thing all over again in this improvisational sequel to the surprise 2012 hit. Jonah Hill (Wolf of Wall Street) and Channing Tatum (Side Effects) team up under perpetual grump Ice Cube to once again fight drugs, except now in college. Spoofing the cliches and overdone plot points of movie sequels themselves (returning supporting characters, expanded budgets, reworked plots), 22J is a self-referential snark that will make you laugh out loud. Yet some of the liquid gold has leaked from this franchise's Red Solo cup, draining it down to a just above average adult beverage from the overflowing bounty of the original.
"Same thing, again" apparently didn't make its way to the script department, for where the first film eschewed traditional remakes by lampooning characters/plots with outrageous improv comedy and smart twists on High School clique conventions, 22 toes the line of "college movie" tropes, drunk Frat boy jocks and wimpy Art School intellectuals that are standard issue college flick trope since the 1980s. Jenko and Shmidt suffer the 1st sequel blues (on purpose and as predicted right from the start by scruff-machismo-meister Nick Offerman), and the action feels a bit lacking despite the onscreen winks to doubled budgets. Even the original cast member cameo is reduced to a while-credits-roll one liner, and there are a stunning number of laughs locked into that credit sequence, where Hollywood franchises are met with scorn as future inevitable titles are screamed past the audience (23, 33,34,44, etc). Perhaps the pathos of their bromance breakup goes on too long, perhaps the action never lives up to the promised sequelitis of "same but bigger", perhaps the Spring Break sequence should have been expanded into more of a third act focus on skewering Hollywoodized college life instead of just a limited set piece. Jokes like "Art Degree? You won't make much money with that" and a slew of tired Old Jokes (mostly performed by actors who also aren't College age) show off the semi-lazy writing here. This is in stark contrast to the cool freshness of 21, but the charm and fun of Channing and Hill elevate the somewhat average semester, and if you laugh hard enough you'll still be able to get a nice buzz from the contact high.
6.5 Trash Compactors of Sadness out of 10 (GOOD)
X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014)
X-Men: Days of Future Past (PG13) Review
“Fleece with Honor”
Loosely based on the Marvel comics franchise and the issues
by the same name, this entry tells the story of the X-Teams in two separate
time lines. One is the X-ElderstatesMen,
a team lead by an elderly Professor X and Magneto in a grim cataclysmic future
where their only hope is to send back Wolverine’s (Hugh Jackman, natch) spirit
to the past to prevent their downfall.
The other are a young team of X-Babies (from 2011’s Xmen: First Class), now
living in an idyllic 1970s America that has just lost the Vietnam war and
retained a President Nixon.
Taking what worked from First Class (the fresh brood of
actors and fresh story ideas/period pieces) and mixing it with the best of rest
of the X-Franchise (Director Singer, high quality CGI, rock solid casting and
lack of Brett Ratner influence) results in a movie with unfortunately more good
ideas than good action. Highlights
include an underused Quicksilver’s rakish youth zipping through a room of guards
all the while listening to 70s arena rock, a surprising amount of death by
robot dismemberment and a rich tapestry of X-history enabling call backs to
nearly every film entry in the series, but most tellingly the biggest highlight
of the film is the blessed lack of a lowlight. However the Fox X-Men Cinematic Universe is a far shade of grey from the excellently treated and carefully planned Marvel Universe, even the bumpers here don't properly lead into the next movie.
Singer himself once again paves over plot holes with pageantry, over
explains with flash backs but nails the Funky 70s while also avoiding tired
clichés. Yet an undercurrent of
unfocused narrative and studio-driven emphasis pervade the picture. For instance the obvious fetishisation and
idolization of blue-meanie Mystique (a continuance from previous films) rises
to strange new heights. Now superstar
Jennifer Lawrence’s blood is the perfect weapon to be used against her own kind,
and all her amazing kung fu and near-onscreen nakedness aren't going to stop
both sides from fighting over her (just as we, the basement dwelling comic
geeks, surely must wipe our chins over her).
We are treated to even more true blue glimpses of Mystique’s physique, slightly
tempered by slipping in a sly Zapruder-film reference. This reliance on Star Power T&A trumps any
real plot development and feels like a real speed bump for the film’s ability
to evolve into something at the top of the food chain.
The X-Gang’s all here, both versions with good chemistry,
both anchored by Hugh Jackman’s fan favorite Wolverine. Yet all these metaphysical beings end up
doing is sitting on airplanes or darkened rooms and discussing the “well, whats
next?” exposition. They look good, they
feel good in the roles, and the action when it happens looks good. Yet where is the gravitas of the situation, the
tension should be a fear of extinction yet the only emotion the Old Team seem
to be able to drum up is an apparent fear of razors. The future is just a world that blew a fuse
and no one can find the flashlight, a dusty abandoned temple is 90% of our view
into this supposed “nightmare future”.
The past says it’s the 70s (remember ‘Nam and JFK???), but how about
showing the actual racial tensions that were rampant in that day and age, that
actually inspired creator Stan Lee to write this silly comic book that addressed
the taboo topic of racial prejudice by wrapping it in goofy mutated genes and
unlimited super powers yarn.
XM:DOFP ends up a completely unchallenging viewing
experience, slurped through a straw by an audience so thirsty for any decent
X-related material that it will gladly smack its lips at the treacle-y
high-fructose aftertaste, completely unperturbed by its empty caloric content. Mostly Adequate Soap Operatic Sci-Fi with
flashes of brilliance is built into its X-genes, being present in decades of
Marvel Comics continuity paradoxes, and it doesn't look like the studios are
going to break that mold anytime soon, even if they did just rewrite its entire universe a la the Star Trek reboot.
7 Where’s My Stan Lee Walk On??? out of 10 (GOOD)
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About Me
- Kevin Gasaway via HardDrawn
- Turlock, California, United States
- Media and Reviews by Kevin Gasaway