Out in Theaters: POMPEII

February 21, 2014 by Matt Oakes Posted in Out in Theaters Tagged Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, Carrie-Anne Moss, Emily Browning, Jared Harris, Jessica Jones, Kiefer Sutherland, Kit Harrington, Out in Theaters, Paul WS Anderson, Pompeii, Reviews 1 Comment

“Pompeii”
Directed by Paul WS Anderson
Starring Kit Harrington, Emily Browning, Kiefer Sutherland, Jared Harris, Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, Jessica Lucas, Carrie-Anne Moss
Action, Adventure, “Drama”
98 Mins
PG-13

If you’re willing to overlook an awful script, torpid acting and cheeseball direction, Pompeii packs the requisite fireworks and dimwitted gumption to glide through its 100 minute screen time. Told with the panache of an envious porno production assistant, Pompeii is the equivalent of a kid hopped up on candy trying to recount the events of Gladiator but getting a handful of plot points confused with Armageddon. It’s a disaster of wonderful proportion and, quite simply, a blunderous marvel to behold.

Director Paul WS Anderson‘s chutzpah is a blunted sword that he wields like it’s Excalibur, hacking through logic like Theon Greyjoy taking off Sir Rodrick’s head. (If that one went over your head, let’s just say it’s a mess.) There’s nothing necessarily redeeming about the self-serious way the material is approached except the beautiful irony of it all. It’s the perfect storm of narrative retardation unaware of the extent of its disability. At least the poor thing isn’t sentient enough to know it’s severe limitations. Rather than bring it out to pasture though, we’re stuck playing the schoolyard bullies who circle and laugh. At least pointing and mocking here is acceptable.

No one deserves our disapproving derision more than swooning stars Emily Browning and Kit Harrington who make use of their screen time ogling one another; eye fucking like its Jr. Prom all over again. Doe-eyed and bitterly boring, each takes their acting lessons from the book of Stares and Glares 101. Their chemistry is always overshadowed by the mountain in the distance, a spark to the raging conflagrations surrounding them. Their romance, a dog shit hue of puppy love.

Certifiable shame that it is, Harrington can’t survive outside the confines of Game of Thrones, a magical realm where he’s nothing short of awkwardly charming. Armed with a sword and shambling in sandals, Harrington’s Milo is the gladiator’s version of rebel without a cause. “Are you not entertained?” his character plagiarizes, but with the snarky attitude of a hipster teen. No John Snow, we’re not. Stick to your side of the Fire and Ice equation. No matter what ridiculous number of abdomen muscles you’ve packed on, things just work out better when you’re buried in furs and adventuring in a perma-snowstorm.

Browning on the other hand is all kinds of bad news bears. She’s supposed to be brave and rebellious as Cassia but comes off as a little girl playing princess. She’s a vacuum of talent, a worm hole of thespianism, a black thumb for film. Does everything she touches wilt into a bouquet of poison oak or does she just have an agent with a grudge against her? Seriously, the girl hasn’t touched a good project with a ten foot pole and Pompeii is no exception. Seeing her on the receiving end of a half-dozen bitch slaps is as magical as things get.

Dishing out those slaps is Kiefer Sutherland‘s General Corvus, a poorly acted douche of a man who we meet at the top of the story slicin’ and dicin’ through Milo mum’s windpipe who later, quite conveniently, stews a bit of a rapey crush on Cassia. Apparently suffering from a knack of amnesia, Anderson forget to include the bit where Corvus stumbles across the fountain of youth. How else can you explain the fact that Corvus hasn’t aged a day in 17 years? There’s no way the people making this behemoth could have just forgotten a detail like that. RIGHT?!!

Then again, the script does seem like the result of a late night session the writers spent with a bong, a bag of Doritos and a Gladiator DVD. Seriously, there are lengthy scenes airlifted directly from Gladiator. It’s one thing to homage and another entirely to play something off as your own work. Let me give you a particularly face-palming example: During a prominent gladiator showcase, the slavemaster attempts to recreate a Roman massacre from recent past where a slew of barbarians were slaughtered like caged chickens. Milo and friends are primed for the pointy end of a skewering stick, but wait! the enslaved gladiators band together to overcome momentous odds, defying the will of their superiors and winning the goodwill of the people. Sound familiar? I guess at the very least, they’re ripping off some solid stuff.

The only other character of note, Atticus, is also the one we’re left pining for more time with. As a African gladiator brute, Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje is immensely watchable and the easy star of the show. His is the only character we don’t want swallowed up by a wall of lava, the only one we’re hoping won’t be sworded to death. Spoiler: both happen.

Throughout the affairs, Mr. Anderson doesn’t ever let us forget that there’s a volcano involved and with CG technology what it is now, Mt. Vesuvius is clearly a main character (or at least the one we’re supposed to pay the most attention to). It must feel robbed then that it didn’t even get an IMDB billing. If CG characters were eligible for a share of their awards gold, old ‘Suv’ would be a clear early frontrunner.

Watching the computer generated Mt. Vesuvius blow is destruction porn at its most bukakesque. Gobs of moltenus rock spew from the hot top like a 12-year old Paul WS Anderson discovering his manhood. If this is his take on a pissing contest, he proudly strikes a pose and demeans your fifth grade science experience. Baking soda and vinegar ought to be ashamed.

Writer team Janet Scott Batchler (Batman Forever), Lee Batchler (Batman Forever) and Michael Robert Scott (Sherlock Holmes) are the lack of brains behind Anderson’s unwieldy brawn, the Tonto to his rebooted Lone Ranger, the brain dead Himmler to his logic-genociding Hitler. Theirs is the glory of this spirited romp through seven levels of screenwriting purgatory. “King logos is dead, long live computer graphics!” they collectively chant. Together, they have ushered in a nuclear meltdown of a story, ineffaceably half-witted and boldly dopey.

A hotpot of narrative no-no’s hyped up on its own garishness and blinded by the Hot Pocket consumerism driving the thing, Pompeii is a disaster of a disaster movie in the best of ways. The cart is miles before the horse as this movie is no more than an excuse to see a volcano go boom-boom. Like a toddler experimenting with an Easy Bake Oven, Pompeii is majorly overcooked, a hot mess of epic proportion. But Anderson’s is the rare and wonderful movie that transcends the expression “it’s so bad, it’s good”. It’s literally a masterclass on the topic. One could write a thesis on how Pompeii proves Paul WS Anderson is the new Ed Wood and likely walk away with a honors degree. Simply put, I loved and hated it in equal measure. It was so dumb that I applauded.

C-

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Out in Theaters: 3 DAYS TO KILL

February 21, 2014 by Matt Oakes Posted in Out in Theaters Tagged 3 Days to Kill, Amber Heard, Connie Nielsen, Kevin Costner, McG, Out in Theaters, Reviews, Richard Sammel

“3 Days to Kill”
Directed by McG
Starring Kevin Costner, Amber Heard, Richard Sammel, Tómas Lemarquis, Connie Nielsen
Action Crime, Drama
113 Mins
PG-13

When 3 Days to Kill first rolled, I was convinced I’d mistakenly wandered into another Taken sequel. The premise is pretty much exactly the same save the kidnappings; instead, “dangerous” international spy Ethan Renner (Kevin Costner) only has three months to live. Just like in Taken, the protagonist has been separated from his wife and now wants to reconnect with his teenage daughter (Hailee Steinfeld, True Grit) whom he doesn’t spend much time with. 3 Days to Kill is even conveniently set in Paris, and director McG (Charlie’s Angels, We Are Marhsall) makes no attempt to conceal that fact. And, of course, just like Neeson’s bad-ass Bryan Mills, Costner’s Ethan tortures and/or kills everyone. The comparisons never stop.

Beyond that, exposition in this film is so hurried and obscure that any sort of motive or coherent plot is hard to follow. Along with Vivi, — a “sexy” CIA agent portrayed by Amber Heard — Ethan is assigned to hunt and kill two guys codenamed “The Wolf” (Richard Sammel) and “The Albino” (Tómas Lemarquis). In exchange, the CIA gives him an “experimental drug” to cure his brain cancer, which comes in an overly ominous 20ml syringe and has some nasty side-effects. Ethan is left to juggle his job (and life) while trying to keep a hold on his family.

A steam-rolling, no-frills killer, Ethan dresses like an off-duty World War I fighter pilot: he’s outfitted with a grey wool scarf, faded blue jeans and a brown bomber jacket. He’s everything a spy shouldn’t be: grizzled, garish, gasping and God-awful looking in a suit. Sweaty and paunch-bellied, Costner always looks like he needs a nap. He’s James Yawn, the Worn Identity.

Costner’s set of skills isn’t as particular as Neeson’s were, either. In fact, he doesn’t seem to be good at much other than murdering Frenchmen and blowing shit up in plain sight without anyone noticing. To top that off, his reaction to the experimental drug’s side-effects always kicks in right when he’s about to cap the baddies, leaving him woozy and wheezing before blacking out on the floor. As such, Ethan finishes missions like a nice guy with a vasectomy.

His inability to get the job done doesn’t really matter though; it’s never quite clear what exactly his mission is even supposed to be except a way to conveniently draw the plot out long enough for Ethan to teach his daughter how to ride a bike and dance the waltz.

Why the bad guys even need to be killed in the first place is so poorly established that it’s preposterous. The Albino is presumed to be debauched due to his austere fetish for murder by eccentric decapitation — at one point he takes a female agent’s head off via descending elevator shaft — though why that makes him an enemy of the state is beyond me. Maybe his hairlessness presents an unknown challenge to the American livelihood.

As for The Wolf… Well, I have no clue what Sammel’s role even was. He only appears for the film’s first and last five to ten minutes, and by the end his character or importance is completely forgotten. The Wolf’s only crime in the entire film was ruining a nice dinner party. It’s never made clear why the CIA wants him dead. That’s never a good thing for a supposed main villain.

Most spy films these days are predictable and formulaic, and 3 Days to Kill was no exception. Apart from some original moments, the plot was stagnant, unoriginal and pretty much the concept Taken would have been if Neeson’s family had remained intact instead. At 100 minutes, McG seemed to feel like he had three days to fill. It certainly felt longer than that.

All that said, everything besides the makeshift plot and confusing narrative was actually really well executed. In addition to the beautiful mise-en-scène — McG took every opportunity to show off the Eiffel Tower — this film was surprisingly French, which is probably the reason why it wasn’t all terrible.

With almost an entirely French cast and crew, including writers Luc Besson and Adi Hasak, cinematographer Thierry Arbogast, and a score by Guillaume Roussel, 3 Days to Kill had all the familiar elements found in famous French spy series such as Le Gendarme and OSS 117 (which starred Jean Dujardin before he was a Swedish bank mogul laundering Jordan Belfort’s money or a silent film superstar). For an action film, it’s got enough not to bore. Costner kills like the plague: his body-count hits the half-century mark about 20 minutes in and rises exponentially from there.

The comedy is decidedly Français: clumsy, maladroit, and filled with foolish situational and corporeal humor. McG probably banked a little too much on over-the-top sound effects and old-man-on-a-girl’s-bike humor, but there were plenty of funny moments. Costner is more of a comical figure than he ever is badass, so he milks it.

3 Days to Fill is well-acted and McG made certain to have a resolution for every character involved. No stone was left unturned, and the film wraps up the mangled plot as cleanly as possible. Costner as a poor man’s Liam Neeson works fairly well, and the father-daughter relationship between him and Steinfeld is heart-warming at times. The Wolf and The Albino are terrible villains, but they’re at least entertaining. There’s talent in nuggets here; McG does a good job of mining it.

When it comes down to it, 3 Days to Kill exceeds expectations like a 4th grader jumping hurdles at the district track meet. Costner has come a long way since his Ta Tanka and Two Socks chasing days with the Dakota Souix, but this Dance With Wolf just didn’t make me howl.

C-

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Out in Theaters: THE WIND RISES

February 19, 2014 by Matt Oakes Posted in Out in Theaters Tagged Animation, Biography, Hayao Miyazaki, Japanese, Out in Theaters, Reviews, The Wind Rises

“The Wind Rises”
Directed by Hayao Miyazaki
Starring Hideaki Anno, Miori Takimoto, Hidetoshi Nishijima, Masahiko Nishimura, Steve Alpert, Morio Kazama, Keiko Takeshita, Mirai Shida, Jun Kunimura, Shinobu Otake, Nomura Mansai
Animation, Biography, Drama
126 Mins
PG-13

(Note: I saw the original version in Japanese with English subtitles, not the redub featuring Joseph Gordon-Levitt)

Traumatic and introspective, The Wind Rises is Hayao Miyazaki‘s magical realist account of pre-WWII Japan as it navigates a seismic earthquake, battles the emergence of lurking fascism and sees its populace wither at the hands of TB. To say it’s not an experience for kids is an understatement, so don’t let the pretty pictures fool you. And yet, preserved is the crisp and distinct Miyazaki visualscapes and a ubiquitous, if stayed, element of whimsy. “In good times and bad, life is magical,” Miyazaki seems to say with a hopeful sigh.

The Japanese visionary has talked at length about how this will be his final feature and accordingly it only seems fitting that The Wind Rises feels like a man penning his own epilogue; a storyteller past myth and allegory, finally willing to stare long and hard at the epoch of his lifetime and reflect, no matter how painful that process.

The hero at the center of this tale, Jiro, seems telegraphed in from a poem. And yet his story is true (somewhat), making Miyazaki’s film a fantastical biopic of the oddest sort. How much Miyazaki saw of himself in the plight of the aviation expert can be assumed but why he has chosen him to be the representative of Japan’s 1920 era is a thing of mystery. But let’s save that debate for later.

Jiro Horikoshi is an aviation aficionado. We meet the glasses-touting to-be pioneer at a tender young age and watch him blossom into adulthood and his fledgling career as an aviation engineer. Ever since he was a boy, Jiro has experienced lucid dreams, his nights filled with times spent alongside Italian aeronautical engineer Giovanni Caproni, a figure of encouragement prone to designing ambitious triple layered bi-planes the stuff of fantasy. But even in these dream sequences, reality is grounded. There’s no fluffy creatures or wretched monsters, just the harsh reality of unbridled ambition and unrivaled aspiration. Nevertheless, Miyazaki’s 73-year old hand still paints as beautifully and classically as ever.

Although the animation here is far more realist than much of his former work, Miyazaki still dips in bright colors, painting backdrops so gorgeous you’d expect to find them in a Tokyo art exhibit. And just as his craftsmanship is rich with texture and life, his story is creeping with subtext. To make such a thematic shift this late in his career, away from quirk and metaphorical creatures and into a murky incitement of a culture’s past, surely gives us a glimpse into the mind of a haunted genius.

As the film presses questions of drive and autonomy and the turbulent mix of the two, our minds drift to the writer’s room. Is there intentional poetic justice in Miyazaki decrying the astringent nag that one’s work is never finished just as he’s retiring? Is this film a confession of regret? Of guilt? What has he sacrificed to get where he is today? Or is this merely a reticent sign off to a long and illustrious career? So many questions, so few answers!

And here lies the problem. For all the wonderful questions Mizayaki’s choice to make this his sendoff feature raises, the film itself deals in a tonally inconsistent and wandering narrative rife with teetering pathos that’s almost strangely personal. More tragedy than anything, The Wind Rises earns every bit of its PG-13 rating without ever uttering a swear or witnessing a swing of violence. No, the troubling but true subject matter is bleak and ultimately heartbreaking enough to make anyone old enough blink out a tear or two. Kids though will have all but the pretty pictures soar over their heads like one of Jiro’s aircrafts. That said, it is a visual wonder to behold. Just be prepared to explain to your four year old what tuberculosis is.

Is The Wind Rises Mizayaki’s masterpiece? Certainly not. But it’s an intriguing work nonetheless. It lacks the jubilant capriciousness of Mizayski’s prior filmography, a thing ineffably harder and more coarse than one would imagine from anything animated. In spite of its relative inaccessibility, it is a thing of mighty beauty, even if it is a bit of a melancholy note for Mizayaki to leave on. Like a man looking back at the perfect futility of human life, The Wind Rises is a bittersweet symphony of what it means to love and lose.

B

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Out in Theaters: ROBOCOP

February 11, 2014 by Matt Oakes Posted in Out in Theaters Tagged Abbie Cornish, Gary Oldman, Joel Kinnaman, Jose Padilha, Michael Keaton, Out in Theaters, Reviews, Robocop, Samuel L. Jackson, Sci-Fi 1 Comment

“Robocop”
Directed by José Padilha
Starring Joel Kinnaman, Gary Oldman, Michael Keaton, Abbie Cornish, Jackie Earle Haley, Michael K. Williams, Samuel L. Jackson, Jay Baruchel, Zach Grenier
Action, Crime, Sci-Fi
108 Mins
PG-13

RoboCop tries to make communion between global politicking black satire and “ohhhh shiny” skirmishes but winds up not quite able to answer the many questions it raises. Regardless, the fact that this supposed actioner wants to stick its nose into moral territory and sniff around makes for a far more interesting experience than any paint-by-numbers shoot-em-up that I was expecting.

In the oeuvre of action movies, the RoboCop of yore was known for its balls-to-the-walls, blood ‘n’ guts characteristics so you’ll be surprised to hear that this 2014 remake is so light on action sequences that it makes The Lion King look violent (but let’s be honest, The Lion King is pretty violent). There are maybe two instances of what one would consider violence, both blaring shootouts sans a spot of blood, and an exposition-driven explosion of note. Other than that, most of the distressing PG-13 rated stuff takes place in a Clorox-blasted laboratory.

Beckon forth the stuff of Ethics 101. Global tech-giant OmniCorp is hellbent on getting their militant robots into the domestic market but have been blocked on all sides by liberal Senator Hubert Dreyfuss (Zach Grenier) and his long-standing bill that outlaws the use of mechs in the land of the stars and stripes. They would feel nothing if they shot a child, Dreyfuss argues. How can we give unadulterated command to something that wouldn’t even feel an ounce of remorse if they blasted a baby in the face? It’s a half decent point you’re onto there Dreyfuss but one that is shied further and further away from as the revenge narrative is ratcheted up.

With the help of marketing fisher Tom Pope (a bearded but still baby-faced Jay Baruchel), Raymond Sellars (Michael Keaton) employs Dr. Dennett Norton (Gary Oldman) to help push Dreyfuss’s bill into fisticuffs with the introduction of a half-man, half-machine hybrid. Business barons as they are, they’ve found the wishy-washy nooks of the law and let exploitation take birth. But after breezing through a list of candidates, Norton doesn’t believe they have anyone fulfilling the mental balance needed for the job. I wonder who it could be? Let fly, the red herring in all its foreshadowing glory.

Enter incorruptible cop Alex Murphy (Joel Kinnaman) who has just caught the scent of a near untraceable top-tier gunrunner, Anton Vallon (Patrick Garrow). Following up on a lead, Murphy and partner Jack Lewis (Michael K. Williams) land themselves in the cacophonous din of a gunfight (and either it was the IMAX screening I attended or the gunfire sound editing has been cranked up to 11 but the blasts were near deafening). With Lewis left hospitalized with a handful of slugs lodged in him, good cop Murphy is all revved up for revenge. But, unbeknownst to him, he’s earned a hefty target on his backs from the watchful eye of the criminal underworld and before he can say “boo”, he’s blown into a limbless coma, becoming a prime candidate for what becomes the RoboCop experiment.

For all the character names scattered through the movie (and this review), screenwriter Joshua Zetumer deserves a hand for actually carving out a foothold for nearly all of them. Abbie Cornish as Murphy/Robocop’s wife is a little uncut but Keaton, Oldman, Williams and the rest of the supporting cast really get some actual characters to dig into. Even the villains of the piece are much more modern baddies, blinded by financial gain but not bogged down with diabolical cackles or announced plans of world domination. They hardly acknowledgement their own villainy, they’re just in it to win it. Unfortunately for them, so is RoboCop.

Each character is firmly engrained in the story and hard to leave out when talking about the piece. It’s a surprisingly ensemble piece for an action film and one that relies just as much on the characterization of the Dr. Frankenstein who created him as it does on the eponymous RoboCop. In such, everyone has their place. Making a world that’s so fleshed out and yet intimate is one of Zetumer’s many skills. Loose ends, on the other hand, are not.

In an age of drone warfare, secretive criminal tribunals and the National Defense Authorization Act (which affords Obama authority to kill a US citizen without due process), Robocop does seem ripe for the reboot. It’s a shame then that we don’t really see him (and by extension filmmaker José Padilha) grapple with the difficulties of dealing with morally gray areas. Rather, we’re given an ethical guide we’re meant to mock in Samuel L. Jackson‘s Pat Novak and a dubious puff of disapprobation in Padilha’s incisive glare.

As far as Robocop the machine-man, more than anything, his existence becomes a pitiable state of affairs; one stripped of choice, mellowed of free will and fine-tuned to acts of force appropriation. Seeing what’s left of the actual Alex Murphy is macabre and visceral (and may turn your popcorn bucket into a barf bag) but watching him drained of his remaining humanity is arguably more lurid.

Gone are the lampooning moments of levity that flowed from the originals, replaced with the likes of Batman-mimicking “Does it come in black?” For those seeking action-packed escapism, look elsewhere as RoboCop is more Frankenstein than Die Hard. Soaked and dripping with questions of determinism, spirituality, executive power, agency and identity that each find a pitfall or reaches the end of a rope, Robocop is a mash of hi-fi philosophy conveniently light on resolution.

C

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Weekly Review 40: SCANNER, TOUCHY, TROLL, POINT, ASSASSINATION

February 9, 2014 by Matt Oakes Posted in Out in Theaters Tagged A Scanner Darkly, Point Break, Reviews, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, Touchy Feely, Troll Hunter, Weekly Review

I’m trying to keep up the weekly part of this Weekly Review segment and since this week bought profoundly cold weather to the area, I found myself watching quite a few flicks at home. I decided to catch up on some of Richard Linklater‘s earlier stuff and having just read the Phillip K Dick story this summer, I popped on A Scanner Darkly and Waking Life but couldn’t finish the later in one sitting. Aside from that, I caught up on a handful of things, two of which starred Keanu Reeves, that I’d heard buzz about for some time but had never taken the time to see. Some were great, some not so much.

A SCANNER DARKLY (2006)

An entirely faithful and ambitious adaptation of one of Phillip K Dicks stranger and yet more emotional works. Robert Downey Jr is perfect as Barris, Woody Harrelson makes a great Luckman, Winona Ryder ideally fits the enigma of Donna and even Keanu Reeves is a component choice for our crumbling hero, Bob Arctor. Experimental to a fault, this Richard Linklater film is a piece of art to behold, with each hand drawn frame as texturally inspired and aesthetically vibrant as the last. Without dumbing down the material, it’s no surprise A Scanner Darkly didn’t find much of an audience in its theatrical run or otherwise but any fan of Dick’s memorable brand of sci-fi pulp is sure to love this.

A-

TOUCHY FEELY (2013)

Seattle native Lynn Shelton‘s dramedy tracks a pair of siblings as they change places in their respective worlds like its Freaky Friday. One’s a massage therapist, the other a dentist and in some strange, unmentioned twist of the cosmos, one loses their spirituality while the other gains it anew. Things turn weepy in a pitiless way and Rosemarie DeWitt’s character is a noxious tonic who’s hard to relate to and annoying to watch. None of this new age spirituality really comes together and the bumbling awkwardness that is the emotional framework never does enough to draw in the audience. It’s a fine work in the context of light independent cinema but hardly one worthy of note.

C-

TROLL HUNTER (2010)

Acid dry Norwegian wit, wry social commentary and shockingly impressive visual effects for a paltry budget, Troll Hunter is that rare mockumentary with purpose. As a trio of hunters follow a veteran troll hunter, they learn that trolls are indeed real, a fact actively covered up by the Norwegian government. The best thing about the film is how well conceived everything is and how painstaking thought through each detail is. Between the inventive machinery, gadgets and gizmos and the clever twists of biology that, on the surface, satisfy the existence of such malevolent fairy tale beasts, director Andre Ovredal weaves a compelling narrative that is far better than the silly name might suggest.

B+

POINT BREAK (1991)

Exciting and trend-setting action story partially ruined by Keanu Reeves‘ offensively bad acting, Point Break is popcorn-crunching 90’s nonsense. It’s miles from self-serious but Reeves can barely deliver a line without it feeling like he’s reading lines from his wrist, barely comprehending what’s passing through his lips. Co-star Patrick Swayze is in top form though and his shaggy beach thief has enough layers to keep us intrigued. An interesting start for Kathryn Bigelow who has since gone on to direct some very noteworthy pictures including Academy Award winner The Hurt Locker and 2012’s acclaimed Zero Dark Thirty.

C+

THE ASSASSINATION OF JESSE JAMES BY THE COWARD ROBERT FORD

Lengthy and dense enough to warrant a viewing in two sitting, TAOJJBTCRF is an impeccably photographed, wonderfully acted Western character study. Brad Pitt plays iconic train robber Jesse James with his many folds of complexity and his deeply introspective persona that makes him such a mystery of a character. Not so much a tracking of what made James the criminal celebrity he was as it is about what becomes of his attempts to retire, Andrew Dominick‘s long-winded film gets it right with many aspects. One of which is Casey Affleck‘s Robert Ford. I’ll admit that in the past, I’ve been judgmental of the younger Affleck, calling his performance in last year’s Out of the Furnace the first time that I’ve ever seen him as a seriously talented actor. Here though, there’s no arguing that Affleck is phenomenal. Couple that fact with the picturesque cinematography and absolutely stunning use of light and you have many reasons to watch TAOJJBTCRF, even if the task can be a touch laborious.

B

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Out in Theaters: THE PAST

February 6, 2014 by Matt Oakes Posted in Out in Theaters Tagged Ali Mosaffa, Asghar Farhadi, Bérénice Bejo, Elyes Aguis, Foreign Film, Out in Theaters, Pauline Burlet, Reviews, Sabrina Ouazani, Tahar Rahim, The Past

“The Past”
Directed by Asghar Farhadi
Starring Bérénice Bejo, Tahar Rahim, Ali Mosaffa, Pauline Burlet, Elyes Aguis, Sabrina Ouazani
Foreign, Drama, Mystery
130 Mins
PG-13

The Past is an extraordinarily difficult film loaded with powerhouse performances of perpetually grieving characters and a blanket of dreary subject matter. While it’s nice to get a break from the mindless drudge of early year releases, The Past goes too far in the opposite direction, offering a piece of work so harrowing and relentlessly gloomy that it’s near impossible to find any joy in watching it.

Bérénice Bejo (The Artist) plays Marie Brisson, a forlorn woman who we meet through a pane glass window as she picks up Ali Mosaffa‘s Ahmad from the airport. At first their relationship is ambitious and we’re left guessing their status. Director Asghar Farhadi (A Separation) seems to want to keep us in the dark for as long as possible as we’re not able to gather much about these two and the relationship they share. They could be friends, lovers, roommates or even family. As we try to piece together the details, the only thing that’s clear is that they have history. They have (sigh) a past.

As recklessly dour as A Separation, The Past quickly explodes into a series of accusations, abjection, and atonement; a collection of difficult scenes that provides the cast a series of lofty showcases but does little to stimulate our need for dramatic solace. We’re constantly grieving alongside the characters, breathing in their misery and sighing at the folly of their crumbling affairs.

Bejo, Rahim and Tahar Rahim (A Prophet) are each afforded a bevy of opportunities to exhibit their dramatic capacity and with so much attention paid to the characters, it’s their exceeding commitment to the work that makes The Past compelling when it is. Each brings a sense of life to their character; shades of good and bad, airs of hope and despair. Their roles are fully human, peppered with fault and wound up by life, and that’s what keep the film afloat, demanding our interest and earning our empathy. Regardless of their mighty work though, the film is still 100% glum.

Ostensibly, the narrative comes down to our human capacity for guilt and blame and how the two can affect our lives in irrevocable ways. It’s about discarded relationships, rekindled flames and the connections we forge on our way to the grave. But all this harrowing philosophizing just goes to show how it’s no fun to watch people argue about who’s to blame for someone’s suicide attempt.

The character dynamics carry weighty gravitas and their tempered interactions hue closely to the real world but, for me, movies are at least partially about escapism and there’s no semblance of escape here. Watching The Past is like watching life through the window of a death ward. It’s dark and unforgiving and can take anything from you at any moment. Seeing the crusted loose ends of existence, confronting regrets and admitting the purposelessness of it all is an exercise we have to confront in the privacy of our own minds so watching Farhadi and his cast do so doesn’t astonish so much as depress. His Hakuna Matata is decidedly grim and certainly not sing song.

C

Out in Theaters: THE MONUMENTS MEN

February 5, 2014 by Matt Oakes Posted in Out in Theaters Tagged Bill Murray, Bob Balaban, Cate Winslet, George Clooney, Jean Dujardin, Matt Damon, Out in Theaters, Reviews, The Monuments Men

“The Monuments Men”
Directed by George Clooney
Starring George Clooney, Matt Damon, Bill Murray, Cate Winslet, John Goodman, Jean Dujardin, Bob Balaban
Action, Biography, Drama
118 Mins
PG-13

George Clooney‘s The Monument’s Men is a monumess. A sloppily assembled patchwork of scenes, it’s a great story with no backbone that flops from event to event like a fish out of water. Without the propulsion of any kind of momentum, the tale sags, leaving us dulled to the story’s eventual important moments. With all the talent involved and Clooney behind the camera, we expect something with panache, wit and style and instead are served up this goofy slop of events thrown at the stage with all the disheveled precision of a pie-in-the-face. However intriguing the “true story” behind the film, it is apparently best left in books or relayed in insightful anecdotes as Clooney has all but snuffed the life out of what ought to be a monumental account. As Roger Ebert famously said, “Movies are not about what they are about, but how they are about it.” Here, Clooney’s how looks a lot like wingin’ it.

As mentioned above, the biggest problem holding The Monuments Men back from glory is how frumpily the series of events are organized. Scenes flow into each other like class five rapids, positively clashing and jarring any sense of time or place. Tacking a scene set in France onto one in Germany or America, we never have a foothold on where we are or when exactly anything is taking place. Clooney throws date on the screen but they will hop to another moment in time and another character whose location and significance we can only guess. Only when Clooney’s voiceover cuts through are we informed of the context of the content; a sure sign of narrative failure. When you’re tasked with explaining to the audience what they’re seeing, you know you’re taken a wrong turn off the successful storytelling highway.

So as the film crashes from one scene to another, we’re left trying to hold onto some semblence of structure and even the characters give us little to grasp onto. With the likes of Bill Murray, John Goodman, Matt Damon, Jean Dujardin and Bob Balaban assembled, one would expect stirring ensemble work but, for the most part, Clooney shies away from satisfying character development or captivating ensemble work. The only time he stops to really try and delve into characters are when they face death. What he fails to understand is that we already need to be invested at that point. You can’t kill someone off and then try and make them important posthumously. These “oh wait” moments ring a clear signal of his inability to save the unfocused screenplay from itself and a blinding sign of his desperate attempts to course correct too late in the game.

Even with all these missteps, there are a number of intriguing and poignant scenes interspersed throughout but even they come across as too clunkily set and architecturally inorganic to propel the audience into a suspended state of caring. We want to know who these characters are but we rarely do. Goodman is just kind of there, Dujardin plays up his irresistible French charm and Balaban has some nice material to work his mousey persona on but none really amount to much more than appreciators of art. When Murray is given a dramatic moment to break down in the shower, he puts in some solid work but it makes no sense in the context surrounding that moment. It’s like watching wrestling at the nail salon. It just doesn’t gel.

Where Monuments Men’s biggest disappointment is its squandered use of a killer cast. I will give credit to Cate Winslet, who will soon likely be an Academy Award winner, for her work as a Parisian art aficionado as her work is more notable than any of the gentlemen with whom she shares the screen.

And if you thought War Horse was old-fashion wait until you get a load of this. From the hokey John Williams-wannabe score (courtesy of Alexandre Desplat) to the almost played-for-laughs Nazi presence, it’s just one long page in the book of cinematic taboo. While this may have worked better in 1965, it certainly doesn’t fit 2014. Clooney has been able to manipulate time periods to his liking in the past but his attempt to do a period piece told in dated fashion works about as well as telling the Rwanda Genocide as a rom-com.

One thing is abundantly clear at this junction, Clooney’s art junkie project was certainly not moved from its original release date to “fix up the effects.” Columbia must have know they had little more than a hodgepodge of scenes and didn’t know how to piece them together. The resulting papier mâchéd clunker of a wartime dramedy is a futile effort at grasping at straws. Worse yet, it’s boring.

C-

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Out in Theaters: THE LEGO MOVIE

February 5, 2014 by Matt Oakes Posted in Out in Theaters Tagged Alison Brie, Animation, Charlie Day, Chris Pratt, Christopher Miller, Elizabeth Banks, Liam Neeson, Morgan Freeman, Nick Offerman, Out in Theaters, Phil Lord, Reviews, The Lego Movie, Will Arnett

“The Lego Movie”
Directed by Phil Lord and Christopher Miller
Starring Chris Pratt, Morgan Freeman, Will Arnett, Elizabeth Banks, Charlie Day, Liam Neeson, Nick Offerman, Alison Brie
Animation, Action, Comedy
100 Mins
PG

Dripping with commercial appeal and name brand recognition, The Lego Movie could have easily joined the ranks of previous toy-turned-tale blockbusters. With the likes of Transformers and Battleship, studios have established a shady history of leaning on bankable properties to churn out flimsy showcases that add up to little more than an audio assault and visual fireworks, a cheap attempt to capitalize on audience familiarity and earn a quick buck. While those movies sifted our childlike glee through a filter of blue-toned, sensory bombardment, attempting to twist our arms in hopes of nostalgic forgiveness and financial reward, The Lego Movie goes the completely opposite route and awards those hankering to see their favorite childhood toys onscreen with a gleefully told story of epic Lego magnitude. Irreverent and hyper-self-aware, this adaptation takes everything we loved about the buildable blocks and seamlessly weaves it into a startlingly awesome and fully engaging narrative about creativity, imagination and encouragement, resulting in the best animated movie since 2010’s Toy Story 3.

At the center of the Legoverse, lovable goof Chris Pratt voices Emett, a run-of-the-mill construction worker figure who tries his darnedest to assimilate with the uber-chipper Lego society marching in perfect formation around him. In Emett’s city, uniformity is the bee’s knees. Everyone loves the same song (“Everything is Awesome”), watches the same TV show (“Where Are My Pants?”) and has the same water cooler conversations day in and day out.

It’s a society structured around structure, a sociopolitical climate that’s laid out with instruction booklets (*wink*) and enforced with hive mind mentality. And no matter how hard Emett tries to fit in, he’s just so extraordinarily ordinary that people hardly remember his face (well that may be the result of everyone’s face being composed of same shade of iconic yellow, plastered with a smile and bulbous black eyes.) So when Emett stumbles upon a coveted brick and is mistakenly identified as “The Special”, he goes along with it. He allows new ally Wyldstyle (Elizabeth Banks) to believe that he’s a world class master builder because it’s the first time anyone has ever recognized potential in him.

Behind the scenes, President Business (a perfectly wacky Will Ferrell) secretly runs the show, cunningly steering the fate of the city’s inhabitants, hell bent on a maniacal scheme to unleash the ghastly Kragle, a weapon so devastating that it will forever glue the world into its proper place With Bad Cop (Liam Neeson) at his every beck and call, Business is out to destroy creativity as well as Emmet, the supposed harbinger of prophecy, and his fellowship of master builders.

Backed by enough voice cameos to keep you wracking your brain and a solid heap of characters pulled in from nearly every imaginable franchise, Lego is overflowing with talent. You’ll find the likes of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia‘s Charlie Day as an 80’s astronaut, Arrested Development‘s Will Arnett as Batman, Will Forte, Jonah Hill, Nick Offerman, Cobie Smulders, Channing Tatum, Jake Johnson and even Morgan Freeman‘s sultry tenor all giving rock solid voice performances that aid the laughing stock The Lego Movie becomes.

With Phil Lord and Christopher Miller, the creative minds behind the first Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs and the recently rebooted and well-received 21 Jump Street, at the helm, the project has just as much focus placed on the comedy as the storyline and stylish animation. Accordingly, the jokes fly a mile a minute.

But beneath it all is a genuine heartbeat. Emett’s journey is a common hero’s quest but his goofy antics and self-sacrificing ways provide an emotional basis for our ongoing investment in his arc. Driving home a message that everyone’s special may be a little pear-shaped in the age of the Great Recession but there’s something intentionally ironic behind all the hackneyed encouragement. Maybe The Lego Movie would like to tell us we’re all special but that’s a message that only lingers on the surface. Beneath that, Lord and Miller reach out and say “We know that’s not true, but that’s still cool.”

The film is loaded with irreverent, double entendre moments like this, a self-aware meta angle that makes the experience just as much rewarding for adults as it is for kids. The screenwriting duo even take potshots at the lesser regarded Lego properties to great comic effect. Rarely taking a break from tongue-in-cheek mockery of Business, who for all intents is a place holding satire of the very company footing the bill for this movie, their voice is strangely misaligned with the lousy money-grubbing staples of the industry. They preach thinking outside the box while the inevitable accompanying merchandise will deal in exactly this kind of box-set salesmanship. Just eat up that irony.

Going back to the kids, those sugar-stuffed Ritalinites are sure to just eat this up as the partially CGI, partially stop-motion visual style is mind-boggling enough to make even a surly old man’s jaw drop much less a wide-eyed youngster. Cross the delectable ratio of genuine belly laughs with the crafty visual palette and Miller and Lord deserve a hearty pat on the back. Congratulations guys, you’ve made the best animated film in years.

A-

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Out in Theaters: LABOR DAY

January 30, 2014 by Matt Oakes Posted in Out in Theaters Tagged Clark Gregg, Drama, Gattlin Griffith, Jason Reitman, JK Simmons, Josh Brolin, Kate Winslet, Labor Day, Out in Theaters, Reviews, Tobey Macquire

“Labor Day”
Directed by Jason Reitman
Starring Josh Brolin, Kate Winslet, Gattlin Griffith, Tobey Macquire, Tom Lipinksi, Clark Gregg, JK Simmons
Drama
111 Mins
PG-13

Jason Reitman‘s Labor Day is a hokey, sentimental, botched abortion of a film, asking “Would you like some cheese with that ham?” Dreadfully sappy and spilling over with predictable narrative turns that’ll have you groaning in your seat, this gushing melodrama employs the trifecta of director Jason Reitman, Kate Winslet and Josh Brolin with all the elegance of buckshot into a watermelon.

Both accomplished performers do give it their all and commit to the dungy script with full hearts but they’re given such softcover romance novel material to work with that even their most devout earnestness can’t cover the gaping hole. Even the most talented of artists could turn this thin-skinned story that screams bubble bath bathos into a respectable and engaging tale.

Almost at points weaker than a Nicholas Sparks’ doomed romance, Labor Day sees an escaped convict (Brolin) hole up with a single mom (Winslet) and her son, played by a steady-handed Gattlin Griffith. Quicker than this beast can say Belle, Winslet’s Adele is fawning over this goatee-rocking con with none other than a gaping wound in his side. We’re led to believe that her illogical swooning comes from some form of “love at first sight” nonsense but the shoddy sham that’s truly going on is far more evident to the audience. She falls for him because he’s a man, willing to employ years of manliness to fix up the house and put her, near crumbling, affairs in order. Most importantly though, Frank’s the first dude to look her way in what seems like years and he’s apparently really digging her shaky, damaged goods routine.

As for Frank’s broken brand of bittersweet, he’s a man deeply distressed by certain events in his past, that oh so conspicuously percolate up over the course of the film, but he’s got an encyclopedic knowledge of just about everything and is as soft-skinned as the peaches that he makes into pies. From making irresistible pie crust to replacing furnace filters, he’s got more tricks up his sleeve than Mary Poppins. “How could this guy possibly be in jail for murder?” we’re meant to wonder, “He’s just so great!” Even though Brolin tries to sand down the edges of this over-the-top character with his rough and gruff persona, nothing he does is able to override the neon heartstring-yanking intent seeping from the page.

Strangely enough, in the throes of this hackneyed love drama Reitman tries to ratchet up some invisible tension with a syncopated score reminiscent of a 90’s spy thriller complete with edgy camera casts into the foreboding wooden atmosphere. Truly, there is never a moment of suspense, never a second where we don’t know exactly what is going to happen next so it rarely makes sense why he’s trying to weave tension from thin air. Worse yet, as he moves into the home stretch, the narrative makes drastic turns towards egregiously cornball resolutions we’d expect from a mega bargain paperback fiction. When Tobey Macguire‘s career turns to pie making, the writing has covered the wall.

An embarrassing stain on the respected filmography of all involved, Labor Day is really just not the kind of film one would expect Reitman to make. From Juno to Up in the Air, Thank You For Smoking to Young Adult, this is a man intent on exploring themes of loss and personal exploration, growing pains and manipulation. This sees none of the above and has the grace of a drunken tabby cat. A misfire in all senses of the word, let’s just write Labor Day one off as the dud that it is and hope it’s no more than a fluke in an otherwise commendable career.

D+

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Out in Theaters: THAT AWKWARD MOMENT

January 30, 2014 by Matt Oakes Posted in Out in Theaters Tagged Imogen Poots, Jessica Lucas, Mackenzie Davis, Michael B. Jordan, Miles Teller, Out in Theaters, Reviews, Rom-Com, That Awkward Moment, Zac Efron

“That Awkward Moment”
Directed by Tom Gormican
Starring Zac Efron, Michael B. Jordan, Miles Teller, Imogen Poots, Mackenzie Davis, Jessica Lucas
Comedy, Romance
94 Mins
R

A butt ugly rom-com masquerading as a dude’s night out, That Awkward Moment sees women fawning over tools and douchebags for their tooliness and douchebaggery. After all, ain’t women just the dumbest?!

This farce of a comedy is so tone deaf to the complex intricacies of gender that it’s so ruthlessly trying to break down that audiences on either side of the genitalia fence will find themselves scoffing in affronted disbelief. I mean, this is a movie that presumes that all guys live for the next one night stand and find commitment on the same level as getting capped in the knee. Women, no matter how beautiful and talented, on the other hand find themselves lucky just to be in the presence of these idols of douche. No matter how many times their needs are forgotten, ignored or actively trampled, they’ll always come running back because… guys are hot. AMIRIGHT?

After stunning breakout performances last year, it’s a certifiable shame to see Miles Teller and Michael B. Jordan’s considerable talent put to absolute waste in this turd sandwich of a film. Teller manages to slide in the only few chuckles but even his jesting persona is overcast with a torrent of sleaze, the main ingredient this film has served up. Even though he’s the only one actually committing here, Michael B. Jordan might as well have been phased in from another brand of C-grade rom-com as his super-sized cheesy, level 11 cliché romantic subplot butts heads with the should-be elbow nudging plot line going on with the other fellas.

This rehashed bro dramedy, or bramedy, is at it’s core a collection of defunct disparate pieces blended together in a distasteful stock of familiar genre truisms. There’s the heavily muscled front man (Efron), a chick-bangin’ machine who drinks whiskey and dresses like every day is a frat party; the wingman best friend (Teller), another go-getter of epic lady-scoring potential; and the heartbroken third (Jordan) trying to get the wind back beneath his cuckolded wings.

Efron’s leading lady and central foil, Imogen Poots, though undeniably adorable, is as intellectually and emotionally stagnant as the picture itself. But let’s give credit where credit is due, she is gorgeous. Even beyond that orbit of eye makeup, she is simply stunning. Unfortunately for her, her looks can only carry her so far and when her performance isn’t even able to keep her American accent in check, there’s signs of a serious breakdown. She plays cute fine but I’m not convinced she’s trying. It’s one thing to be natural, it’s quite another to just stand in front of a camera acting like yourself and riding into the sunset on your looks.

Speaking of capitalizing in the old looks department, Zac Efron here has the depth of a hair gel commercial. Arrogant, dimwitted and cocky, with a bad and flagrantly sexist attitude to boot, Efron’s brand of bro ho is the epitome of how Americans ought not self-represent. That Awkward Moment tells us early on that this is the generation lead by the selfish. It then goes on to cram that point down our throats for the next grueling 95 minutes. No one is more of a shining beacon of selfish oaf than Efron. And though he’s not to blame for the heinously unpleasant script (that comes courtesy of debut director Tom Gormican) he fails to bring an ounce of humanity to the picture. Frankly, I could never see him on the screen again and be all the happier for it. Unlike his co-stars, Efron is a dying star; he’s burned bright and will soon fizzle out.

Hateful and misogynist dreck that The Awkward Moment is all just boils down to a less clever modern retelling of Josh Harnett‘s 40 Days and 40 Nights, tone deaf to how distasteful its message is and blind to the unblinking plagiarism of a thousand different rom coms. Basically devoid of comedy, this is a strange beast that really has no audience and chastises the audience it does have. While comedies tend to be more male-centric and rom-coms most certainly female-centric, this is a film that guys will find repugnant and girls will be insulted by. It must be hoping to find its audience amongst the pea-brained and unscrupulous. As for the title, I’m not sure exactly which awkward moment the film is referring to as there were so many jokes left hanging in the air, waiting for the other shoe to drop, that the whole affair is one long, half-wincing awkward moment. At least they hit the nail on the head somewhere.

D

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