Review: Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Movie Review: Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
Dir: Niels Arden Oplev

Every hear someone comment about a movie being “formulaic”? There are some tried and true story-telling paradigms that just work. Not just as a vehicle for selling tickets, but also as a vehicle for telling a compelling story. We've seen these formulas in play so much, we can often predict the next scene or the next line of dialog. Heck, we can even see the bad guy a mile away. But its ok, because the formula works. The movie “Scream” does a wonderful job of explaining how this formula is not only present, but vital to making the story unfold properly. I wouldn't go so far as to quote a movie like “Scream”, but I will suggest that, when done well, using the same formula over again isn't such a bad thing. Allow me to place a bit more emphasis on that part: “If Done Well!”

“Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” is a formulaic story about a man hired to uncover the nature of a Billionaire's favorite niece's murder. 40 years prior, she disappeared without a trace, and the old man has obsessed over it ever since. But the clues dwindled away, and the original case has been long cold. Our hero Michael is a reporter who only has six months before he goes to jail for committing Libel against a wealthy financier who, we are allowed to believe, set him up. Michael has his work cut out for him, since it is the old man's wealthy infighting family whom he most suspects. Michael gets cracking on the reams of documents and clues and soon runs into a roadblock. A roadblock that gets shoved aside when he receives an anonymous e-mail that explains the clues to him; someone has been hacking onto his computer and reading his notes. Michael tracks down the hacker, whom we have already met in a story running parallel, and her name is Lisbet. The parallel story is pretty heavy, and I don't wish to otherwise color this family friendly blog by going into detail. Suffice to say Lisbet is a young woman who must suffer the worst of humanity, but has become hard enough to extract herself; however she is able. Michael hires her on, impressed and trust her. The rest of the thriller is likely predictable if you have every seen a mystery thriller before. Therefore, I won't share any more with you.

I haven't yet read the book, but the story is fairly straightforward and … formulaic. Don't get me wrong, I don't mean to criticize that point, but rather applaud the fact that this director made it compelling and interesting despite. I had successfully guessed the bad guy, knew when each tension filled moment was going to occur, and was pointing my own fingers at the hero making gunshot noises when the shots rang out on film. But I was grinning as well. The story IS compelling, and the characters are so brilliantly drawn and portrayed. The cinematography isn't overly artistic and grand, but it is concise and deliberate. It is a good, a very good movie. I found myself running to the restroom for a bio-break, thinking “he shouldn't be there, he needs to get out of there!” And running back, though the movie was on pause.

The two main characters, Michael and Lisbet, are perfect. Michael is cast as this sincere, middle aged guy with integrity and foibles, a bit melancholy because of the recent events hanging over his head. He is persistent, as the old man explains, but there is no arrogance there. He is solid and that is important because he becomes an anchor for Lisbet. Lisbet is a young woman still beholden to a social rule that forces her to endure a legal guardian. The trauma that erupts from this, as well a other instances in her past, have hardened her, aged her. She is dark and brooding, distrustful and cold. But inside is a soul that craves sincerity and honesty, even as she tries to convince herself it doesn't exist. In a contrast that only a foreign film could capture, Lisbet ends up kicking ass and saving Michael's life while Michael offers her a safe path back to humanity. They are diametrically opposed, which makes them a brilliantly conceived team; another tried and true formula.

I really enjoyed this movie. It is a solid film, with good acting and good direction. I think I even heard it is being remade as an American film. This, of course, isn't a novel idea; “La Femme Nikita” is an example of another brilliant foreign film that just wasn't accessible to an English speaking audience unwilling to endure the rigorous inconvenience of subtitles. The remake wasn't bad, especially since it was scene-for-scene, frame-for-frame a remake with new actors.

Though the movie was formulaic, it is a testament to the fact that, when lovingly crafted by an artist, the formula not only holds up but can remind us why it has become the formula. But it takes a light touch, and a passion for the genre, and good actors, and solid cinematography, and all the things that make a quality film. In short, a good movie doesn't have to find a new niche when it is good, period.

Movie Review: Scott Pilgrim vs the World

Movie Review: Scott Pilgrim vs. the World
Dir: Edgar Wright

To describe Scott Pilgrim vs the World is to define the word “Allegory”, so I won't. I'll just assume you know it or at least have access to a dictionary. What I will do instead is explain why it is one of the best movies I have ever seen. No... that won't work either, because it would take too little space and I want this review to span some time. I might as well get it out of the way though, so... Scott Pilgrim vs the World is one of the best movies I have ever seen because it is very cool. See, didn't take much time at all. Damn! How should I go about doing this?? I just saw the movie a few minutes ago, so it hasn't even sunk in... I think I should just... oh, wait... its coming to me... I almost... AH. There it is.

To watch the trailer for this movie... the myriad of trailers I should say, sadly opens the door much to wide for this movie, and I went into it knowing much more than I wished I had. It is a movie that opens doors, which just so happens to be one of the many allegorical points within this revelationary and revolutionary film. I went to the film knowing it would be filled to overflowing with pop-culture Now-ness. I went in knowing it was based on a comic book and would display scenes with a comic book flair. I went in knowing it was going to use the language of this new millennium, with all of its thought and culture and attitude. Once in a while a movie defines a generation, and from the trailers I knew Scott Pilgrim vs the World would be the next defining film. I exited the film knowing the trailers had said too much, sad that they revealed more than necessary, wishing this film had been allowed to stand on its own merits. Really, the marketing strategy is the only beef I have with this piece of art.

The film is about a young man of this, til now undefined yet distinct generation. He falls in love with a woman of this undefined yet distinct generation. They both have baggage that must be sorted through before they can come together fully. In this, the movie tells a story that is ancient. How it is told, however, deftly defines this generation.

Scott Pilgrim is played by Michael Cera, who has settled himself into the everyman role with grace, characteristic unease, and comedic timing that is unrivaled. Scott is in a band, who are on the verge of becoming really good. He falls for a woman, played by the mysterious Mary Elizabeth Winstead, who has a “League of Evil Ex's” out to destroy her newest love interest. Scott ends up facing each member of Ramona's past dalliances, overcoming her baggage, winning her heart, and finding his self-respect along the way. The way it is told combines all the pop-culture that is at the heart of this new millennium, from super-hero, Manga-style super-powers to text messaging, video games, and shifting hair-styles. The screen is filled with fight-scenes taken straight from comics, sound effects that ping and pop as video games are wont to do, and a driving musical score that should win an Oscar and a Grammy and a million downloads from itunes. The characters are crisp and indifferent while being sincere and supportive. Scott is both weak and powerful, broken and conquering, clever and dumb as a bag of hammers.

I watched the film enjoying the many on-screen video-game references spell out the underlying social commentary with a huge smile on my face. Using a medium that is at once shallow and vapid to define the tumultuous undercurrents of social interplay is nothing short of genius; and though it is pervasive the director somehow keeps it as backdrop to the story. Even when the fight-scenes break out and the screen is filled with swords and level-up counters, the message and heart of the story somehow stays in the foreground.

Scott Pilgrim is just another generational film, and we have seen those before. From “Hard Days Night”, “Easy Rider” and “Ferris Bueller's Day Off” to “Empire Records” and “Napoleon Dynamite” we have seen the declarations of the current generation be spelled out in the language of the times. Scott Pilgrim is no different. Oh, it is very different, don't get me wrong, it is just also the same. It won't work for the people who don't understand the language, but that is also why it works. It knows the language, speaks it with the proper diction of the times, using the inflection of a generation to retell a story that will always transcend the ages. It pwns noobs and leets alike while showcasing bff's, and lvl-ups the hero til he rescues both himself and the princess from the final boss.

My suggestion is to watch it with your kids so they can translate.

Movie Review: Lords of Dogtown

Movie Review: Lords of Dogtown
Dir: Catherine Hardwicke

I will never forget the shark-like shape of the board, and the huge rubber wheels. In my hometown in Oregon there was a bit of a hill rising up through the neighborhood, up to the grade-school. And at the end of the sloping sidewalk were a couple of steps leading to the main road. It was Sunday, summer, and the streets were empty like the school. Gray clouds scowled down on the sleepy little town, on me and my red skateboard. I placed it on the concrete, struggling to keep it steady, like some rambunctious colt under my hands til I could sit down on it. And with a shove I was off, rolling down the slope of that cement runway. And when I reached the steps... I was airborne! It was glorious, it was magical, it was difficult keeping the board under me. And when I landed the board shot out like a rocket, leaving me to land on the rough pavement of the street. Luckily the ridges of my spine acted as a series of brakes, and I skidded to a halt well short of the Pacific ocean, which looked to be my inevitable destination. A stranger walking by saw the whole thing and asked “Whoa, you OK, kid?” I don't think I answered him, instead opting to run home crying from my injuries. The scars are faded now, but still barely visable.

“Lords of Dogtown” is a period-piece taking place somewhere near the same time as my own incident, in the middle 70's. The subjects of the film were much more proficient at skateboarding than I was. In fact, they are considered the originators of the punk-skateboarder lifestyle born out of Venice, California. They were also the fiery heralds of the skateboarding sport, introducing a new style and level of expertise that serve as inspiration for the house-hold names you know today, such as Tony Hawk. The movie follows the lives of a group of kids, particularly 3 boys, played by John Robinson, Emile Hirsch, Julio Oscar Mechoso. These fresh young faces were perfectly cast in their respective roles, playing the rigid perfectionist, the troubled rebel, and the self-absorbed protege with skill and nuance. The film also showcases Heath Ledger as their self-serving original sponsor, who gives focus to their talents, but lacks the business sense to profit from it. It follows the group as they grow from members of surfer gangs to world-traveling skate-boarding sports stars, and highlights the hurdles life interjects along the way.

The script is solid, the acting sublime, and the direction well done. Where the film shines, however, is in the art direction. Many period pieces lose sight of the period, interjecting language or anachronistic flubs that simply don't fit. Open up a film in Elizabethan England and you run the risk of using dialect that simply didn't exist, or turns of phrase that hadn't been invented yet. “Lords of Dogtown” doesn't have as much difficulty, since it originally took place in recent memory. But that doesn't mean attention to detail didn't occur. As a culture we understand that “Melons” and “Fakies” and grinds and hand-plants all exist, and many of us can differentiate the various tricks by name. But this story takes place before those tricks were conceived... before ANY tricks were conceived. Tricks on a skateboard were like... juggling while skating, or riding two boards at once. These kids, in this moment of time, changed the game from something shown on the Tonight Show to something worthy of validation as an Olympic level sport. The movie recognizes these embryonic moments, and embraces them. The tricks, by today's standards, are not flashy and impressive. Yet they are held in reverence. When the heroes man their skateboards, mass-produced plastic things with huge vinyl wheels and ball-bearings that sound like a swarm of bees, they look and act like 70's era amateur skateboarders.

I enjoyed the story, which is a coming of age tale with moments given special credence to pace an engaging turn of events. And I enjoyed the acting by these new-comers who fit the roles so well. What I enjoyed the most, though, was regressing back to a time when things weren't simpler, only different. A time when so much of what we take for granted now was inconceivable then. It was fun to watch the birth of something that changed the world as we know it. I liked “Lords of Dogtown”, not because it is a great movie or deserves awards. I liked it because it carried me back to a poignant moment time, successfully and without approbation.

Movie Review: Quest for Fire

Movie Review: Quest for Fire
Dir: Jean-Jacques Annuad

When I was a kid, 12 years old and just figuring out that a woman's breasts were pretty awesome, I discovered that HBO showed all the rated R movies late at night when my parents were conveniently asleep. The first pornographic film clip I recall ever seeing is the first 10 minutes of “Quest for Fire”, when, as the women of the tribe are down at the stream drinking hand-scooped water while down on all fours, a rather frisky member of the tribe sneaks up behind her and enjoys a heart-felt moment. It was wonderfully decadent to my young eyes, when nothing beat a smuggled copy of National Geographic for its revelation of Africa's relaxed dress-code.

It's been nearly 30 years since I watched those first few minutes of “Quest for Fire”, and when I discovered it available on Netflix recently I realized I had never seen it beyond those first first scenes. What I discovered is a rich movie filled with brilliant concepts and acting. The story is a simply one, a quest to reclaim a spark of fire for a tribe of human's too primitive, too lacking in technological thought, to produce it artificially. There is no discernible language, and thus no subtitles, which seems odd for a Hollywood film. But the director trusts his audience, and uses gibberish and grunts and pantomime and stereotypical caveman-speak to tell his story. Sometimes it seems a bit silly, but for the most-part I am able to suspend my modern-day conventions and accept the device for what it is; a way to tell the story that requires my acceptance and involvement. I have to accept language was just beginning to take shape, that instinct was king and inventive thought was fringe. And the director carries this torch through every aspect of the film. The fight scenes are full of posturing and clumsy spear-play. Wounded tribesmen aren't bandaged up. Humor, sex and survival are all rough and a painful. And none of it is sexy.

Except Rae Dawn Chong. Her chatter permeates the film, even as Everett McGill's silent contemplativeness acts as our default narration. And even past the mud and body-paint, she is a charmer. Ron Perlman and Nicholas Kadi round out the members of the quest, and never overstate their roles as simple companions. They all hunker about, picking at bugs and acting like chimps, but McGill is the visionary of the tribe. There is a spark of intelligence under his pronounced brow, a philosophical depth behind the deep-set eyes. He doesn't just notice there is a world larger than himself, but also wonders about it. His isn't the cleverness of discovery, but the appreciation of need and application; he is the visionary.

“Quest for Fire” has moments that could be campy, but they are not allowed to be. Our first reaction might be to laugh at a corny moment, but it is never allowed to stop with that moment. Each flows into a rationale that reminds us to lose our preconceptions and accept the tools being used to tell the story. Early in the film the tribe is attacked by savages, less evolved and more brutish. There is a lot of posturing and whooping and weapons raising, but very little combat. When the combat does come it is clumsy and awkward, a reminder that there would not be any martial talent yet. Spears aren't thrown because then you don't have a weapon anymore. Nobody runs up to attack, because they don't want to get hurt. Wounds are scratches and abrasions, not crudely carved spears through the heart. There was a thread to realism underscoring the movie, of supposition that works because it is pervasive and complete. It isn't campy, because it doesn't revert to something more believable. It is acceptable, because it accepts itself without reservation or excuse.

I enjoyed the movie, because it this fact. I found myself drawn into a the story, caring about the trials of the characters, and accepting their images as presented to me. I don't know if primitive man walked like a baboon everywhere and fucked like rabbits, and with as little emotion. I accepted it as presented, though, and enjoyed the tale through this filter. A tell well told, interesting and satisfying.

I think that, like the movie “Chariots of Fire”, “Quest for Fire” is a masterpiece that will withstand the test of time. I also think it is easily forgettable, because it doesn't offer enough that is obviously epic. There is no quotable dialog, or revolutionary story ideas. It is just a story told in a unique fashion, artistically true to itself. That alone makes it art worth experiencing. But it is an entertaining tale, as well, with great performances and good direction.

Movie Review: Inception

Movie Review: Inception
Dir: Christopher Nolan

I went into “Inception” knowing it was an acclaimed film. There has been a lot of buzz around the movie already, only a couple weeks since its opening. At this moment Rottentomatoes.com has it listed at 87%, meaning 87% of the critics who are credible reviewers of the film liked it. One of the reasons I like sites such as this is that it takes a wide-angle shot of the viewing community. It is by no means a truly accurate gauge, because whether or not a person likes a particular film is all a matter of conjecture and individual taste. For instance, I loved “The 13th Warrior” and list it as one of my favorite films, but Rotten Tomatoes has it ranked at 33%. Conversely, I fell asleep during “Public Enemies”, a movie rated at 68%. Nevertheless, I went into the theater knowing I was going to see a good movie, just how good remained to be seen.

What Chris Nolan has done is challenge the audience to follow the characters through a labyrinthine plot, and yet in a move that seems counter-intuitive in Hollywood, didn't wrap up the solution or lead us by the nose in the last fifteen minutes so we may understand what has really happened. Instead, we are left to piece it all together by ourselves, or with our companions over the water-cooler. It is as though Nolan respects me as a viewer, and knows I will look for the clues if I want to know more. I appreciate that perspective. I can name a couple films off the top of my head that, though they gained critical praise, didn't trust me to figure it out on my own; “Vanilla Sky”, “Fight Club”, and “6th Sense” only name three of the many. Don't get me wrong, I think each of those films were well made and fun to watch. And though they challenged me along the way, felt the need to ensure I got the message so they also explained it to me at the end, holding my hand like a small child and pointing out each of the clues I may have missed. “Inception” has tons of clues leading to a couple different potential alternate endings. For fear of spoiling the fun of discovering them yourself, I won't point out too many for you to notice. But the fact they exist, and weren't tied in a neat bow at the end, means Nolan trusts me to find the ending I like best. And I appreciate that.

I turned to my movie-going companion and remarked that Nolan found the Dream Cast when putting this film together. Dicapprio is a brilliant actor, and has successfully shed the stigma he incurred after “Titanic”, a movie he was also brilliant in, but his performance became trumped by pop-culture hype. He is joined by a cast that includes the people who ought to be considered 5 of today's top 10 A-List actors: Ellen Page, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Tom Hardy, Ken Watanabe, Cillian Murphy. Add to that the experience of Pete Postlewaite, Tom Berenger (in a surprise return) and Michael Caine and your round off an amazing list of talent. And they do a spectacular job, making each performance stand out individually.

But the real star of this movie is the script. I mentioned the plot was labyrinthine, and that is no exaggeration. In fact, from the clues I noticed, it is key to understanding the underlying story. Layers upon layers of depth. The movie is about stealing thoughts from dreams, and how the ultimate heist isn't a theft, but the implanting of an outside thought using highjacked dreams; the Inception. To do this, you must trick the recipient in the dream world using a confidence game that makes use of dreams within dreams, layered like a wedding cake, to ensure the subject doesn't reject the implanted thought as alien in origin. A separate con-game exists on each of those layers, lovingly crafted with the staggeringly brilliant editing of the film, which carries us through those layers as they unfold; when the seconds of one are minutes in the next, and years in the next; yet all occure simultaneously. As convoluted as that may sound, it is seamlessly performed. Implanted along the way is the question, “Are we seeing what we think we are seeing?” Lost yet? You won't be, surprisingly, because it is perfectly executed. The clues aren't hidden too deep, nor are they obvious; they simply exist for you to acknowledge or glance over. You can watch the movie one time and see a brilliant story unfold, and then watch it again and see the story underneath. I am still pondering the possibility of a 3rd layer, as is hinted at in the movie, but I didn't see it first go around.

When I got home I hopped on the internet and, along with my viewing companion, began looking for clues using Wikipedia. Suddenly yet another aspect of the movie opened up to me. Like a puzzle-box with compartments inside compartments, this story has symbolism inside symbolism, clues hinting at deeper and deeper insights. I'll give you an obvious one, just to whet your appetite: Ellen Page's character is named Ariadne, who was, in Greek mythology, the daughter of King Minos who helped Theseus find his way through the Labyrinth of Crete. I'll also give you a less obvious one: Ken Watanabe's character is named Saito, and in Japanese history Saito Dosan was daimyo, or fuedal lord, of the Mino province. Coincidence? I doubt it. The entire script is just that intricately worked.

“Inception” was a pleasure to watch because it is a well made movie, with breathtaking special effects and acting that is unparalleled. But it is great because it is the work of craftsmen, true artists, who know their tools and trust their audience. Watch this movie with open eyes, so you can see the hidden easter-eggs and clues along the way. But don't forget to watch it because it is fun as well.

As I write this I am reading a reviewer who didn't like the movie. He wasn't impressed by the challenge the movie made to him, the challenge to explore the film beyond the layered story. This particular reviewer was bored by the depth, and ultimately resentful of each tool used to create said depth; from the visual effects to the pieces of symbolism present but not overtly explained. I realize from his conclusion that not only did he not get it, but he wasn't interested in trying to get it. And I equally realize there are people out there who will feel, as did this reviewer, that the film was to convoluted and difficult to be enjoyable. For you folks I say don't worry; Sylvester Stallone is making a new film to balance these scales.

Movie Review: District 9

Movie Review: District 9
Dir: Neill Blomkamp

So many alien movies, and so many movies that simply have aliens in them. Aliens are just that, alien to what we, as a culture, know and can relate to. One of the reasons I love science fiction is because of the alien worlds and alien cultures. What District 9 does so well is to meld alien concepts and alien technology with a human culture and technology, and it does it with subtlety and with distinction all in one go. It comments on human nature with chest-popping brutishness, but still retains some subtle nuances that not only keep the film watchable but make it worth watching.

But I could prattle on from my humanist soap-box all day. That would be easy. Instead I am going to just pick a few aspects of what I found to be bits of artistic genius. I thoroughly loved this movie. As an amateur critic, though, I feel compelled to say at least something derogatory to ensure I retain some respectability amongst my peers: it was completely unbelievable in nearly every aspect even as it worked so hard to be a believably realistic oeuvre. With that out of the way, please indulge me while I gush.

The movie is about a race of intergalactic aliens who have arrived at Johannesburg, South Africa in a sort of colony ship. They arrive starving and are quickly placed into a kind of refugee camp, where they will continue to remain starving and poor. Poverty breeds crime and social programs, both of which take an economic toll on society, and at this point the movie uses the foil of post-apartheid cultures in South Africa to create a setting for the main plot of the movie. A well-meaning social worker named Wikus is accidentally exposed to a alien fuel-source and begins to genetically transform into an alien himself. This transformation makes him a hot commodity, since he is now the only human capable of using the genetically attuned weaponry the aliens brought with them. After escaping the deprivations of the medical/military/corporate community and the neo-religious/rebelious warlord/black-market community, Wikus falls in with an alien and his son, who have completed secret work on a transport ship designed to return them to the now-empty mothership, which has just been floating around above Johannesburg. Wikus finally locates the moral high ground and sacrifices his humanity to assist the two aliens in making their escape.

Sharlto Copley is a treasure in this film. He plays the dorky social worker with nuance and just the right amount of thoughtless racism, never stooping too low or backing down. A testament to the script, the character doesn't really find the path we so desperately want him to find until the last few minutes of the movie, hold onto all that we as viewers loath about despicable characters like a cultural lifeline. The leader of the military forces actually looked and acted like a coworker of mine, which made his deplorable attitude of “shoot first, because it is easier than asking questions, and kinda fun t' boot” all the more haunting. The quasi-documentary feel which began with the short-film (I urge your to watch it on Youtube.com) is a wonderful touch. The special effects were awesome, if grotesque. The aliens are realistic CGI, but with a conscious thought given to their movement and behavior, dress and voice. We find them wearing bras, caricatures of humanity, or their outer carapaces spray-painted as though clothed. The equipment is scratched and dented and sufficiently lived in. The setting is the worst living conditions imaginable, made all the more sad because it was filmed on location.

I appreciated the moral decadence that is portrayed in this movie, not because I believe it is a great motivator for the bad guys, but because it is so well handled. Everyone who portrays a morally black facade has a whole slew of reasons to support it; conscious reasons. Realistic reasons. The populace is upset over the cost, while the government wants alien technology, and the gangs want power, and the individuals want what so many individuals want when faced with an alien culture in their midst; power to usage their fears. Wikus even has his own reasons for turning on the only beings on the planet that can help him, a fear laced with a manic urgency to escape his plight. And though the movie is designed to let us loath all that is bitter about humans, there is still the seed of “how would I feel in that situation... how do I feel when I'm in that situation now?” planted like a weed within our souls.

District 9 is an unbelievable movie because there are way too many loopholes and unaddressed points. But it is well made, thought-provoking movie that brought an original idea and made it poignant and entertaining.

Movie Review: Cloverfield

Movie Review: Cloverfield
Dir: Matt Reeves

For me to review Cloverfield I must sadly include spoilers, so here is my warning up front.
(Spoiler Alert)
With a purposeful grimace and a terrible sound
He pulls the spitting high tension wires down, Godzilla!

Helpless people on subway trains
Scream BUG-EYED as he looks in on them, Godzilla!

He picks up a bus and he throws it back down
As he wades through the buildings toward the center of town, Godzilla

Oh no, they say he's got to go
Go go Godzilla, yeah
Oh no, there goes Tokyo
Go go Godzilla, yeah
Lyrics: D. Roeser, Sung by Blue Oyster Cult

Now, with the spoilers out of the way, on with the synopsis.

Cloverfield begins at a going away party, carries on through various Manhattan locales, and ends up under a bridge. Several people begin the movie alive, but ultimately none of them do. And along the journey of these hapless victims of America's own 30 story city-stomping monster, various thrilling events transpire that are meant to startle us, make us sad, have us cheering for the heroes, and hopefully gape in awe at the magnitude of destruction. The film-makers do a pretty decent job of it. The actors are all unknowns who may very well stay that way. The monster is not quite a cool as Godzilla. Since we have seen this before it is all mostly ok. Like I said, the film-makers do a pretty decent job.

It was marketed in hushed tones; secrecy being of the utmost importance. I had a pretty good idea of what the movie was about, but it has been a couple years since it was released, and I hear things. I remember thinking “Oh, that's clever: don't give away what the movie is about, so it is a surprise.” As I watched the various behind the scenes featurettes following my viewing, I began to realize that this movie was designed, from the onset, to be a gimmick; a glorious, epic gimmick. J.J. Abrams is unabashed when he talks about how he came about the original concept, believing it was high-time America had it's own timeless cult idol akin to Godzilla. I can see how the first-person camera shooting, designed to look like the viewer is watching the recovered footage of a lost camcorder, is just another gimmick. The choices to make the head of the Statue of Liberty crash down a crowded street, how the monster is never seen in its full glory but instead barely caught on tape as it turns down another corner several blocks away, how each victim is killed in a uniquely horrendous fashion; all this is gimmick piled on top of gimmick. Even the marketing campaign, cleverly hiding the monster, never hinting at what the movie is really about, is just another in a long string of gimmicks. Now, I believe in setting the hook to draw in movie-goers, but this is all hook, nothing but hook.

I am not even sure how to review this anymore, because I can nit-pick the various little flaws and inconsistencies, or I can rail against the lack of original thought, or I can point fingers at nifty special effects wizardry and bad acting and trite script and clever art... but that doesn't feel right because the movie wasn't about portraying any of that. It was, if I may be so bold, a big-budget indie-film whose unique statement is “I'll get you to watch this movie, by God!” And in that regard, I guess I would have to give it hesitant thumbs-up. The makers did a wonderful job of packing in as many gimmicks as possible in the making of this movies. What else can I say, but “Well done!” So many other film-makers take the high-road and refuse to incorporate more than just a select few gimmicks, usually designed to somehow enhance the telling of the story or showcasing the special effects. Cloverfield's creators didn't have that creative valve, they included whatever they could think of. I am just sad, for them, that the current trend of 3D has arrived too late, though I am not ruling out a “Special Producer's 3D Edition (finally rendered the way the producer originally intended to sell it)” in the possible future.

Cloverfield was fun, but I like Godzilla movies. We have an understanding; I don't expect much from them, and they don't try to deliver. Instead they focus on what works for this unique genre “Glorious Chaos”. Cloverfield succeeds in delivering this for us, and does so on an impressive variety of gimmicky fronts. So, if you are 12 years old, love seeing things destroyed by monsters, and are impressed by the dime-store tricks of a marketing department with Attention Deficit Disorder and more room to run than a 30-story lizard in down-town Tokyo, then I believe this movie will please you.

Movie Review: Pandorum

Review: Pandorum
Dir: Christian Alvart

I love Sci-Fi. Since I was a kid the genre has held me captivated. I remember how my dad exposed me to the classics: 2001: a Space Odyssey, Silent Running, Soylent Green, and I'll never forget the impact Star Wars made on me when I watched it with him on the big screen that spring of '77. Those early exposures forever locked me into the geek community as a fan of Science Fiction, and I am forever grateful.

Sadly, there are so few well made science fiction movies out there. I am not sure what the formula is for a good Sci-Fi movie, but many somehow just seem to miss the mark, though all the elements are apparently present. Pandorum has the makings of a good space-thriller, but falls sadly short. This time I know it is the script which was lagging.

It takes place on a colony ship traveling to a distant planet found years earlier to be habitable by the human race. We learn early on that some cataclysmic events on earth left it as the last hope for mankind to exist in the galaxy, so a lot of pressure was put on the crew, who work in decade-long shifts, to arrive safely. The story begins with crewman Bower and officer Payton waking up from deep-freeze at their supposedly allotted time to begin their shift. But, something is very wrong, because they are alone, trapped in the tail-end of the ship without power or a clue. Bower, played perfectly by the up-&-coming Ben Foster, does all the grunt work leaving the aging Dennis Quaid to relax as the befuddled lieutenant. Bower breaks into the rest of the ship to discover it is overran with a seemingly alien race that is feeding on the remaining crew-members who are running around like adolescent boys on a deserted island. At this point the action is thrilling and set design is superb. The ship, which we learn has somehow been abandoned for nearly a thousand years, periodically wakens crew-members to a struggle to survive among the “aliens”, who are actually genetically transformed human clones designed to learn to survive a yet unknown hostile environment, but which has become the powerless husk of the colony ship. Bower knows he can change everything if he can just reboot the ship's main power-source, the reactor, but he has to make it there alive. He does this by enlisting the aid of some of the wary crew who have been surviving for years by hiding among the ship's miles of corridors.

I was enjoying the movie at this point, because the acting was pretty good, though Dennis Quaid was a bit stale in his role. The genetically transmogrified clones were scary and alien. The ship was brilliantly hostile and broken and huge. It all fell apart, really, when the explanations begin to sew the plot together. I got the impression the writers had a groovy concept but were left spending sleepless nights over endless pots of coffee trying to tie it all together into a coherent story. What WE get is a final half-hour of the movie spent full to brimming with disjointed revelations leading to a deus ex machina ending that is made all the more trite by Hollywood's need to put a pretty bow on top.

Hollywood has made some impressive leaps when it comes to portraying a believable sci-fi/fantasy world. There is magic in there, when the movie carries the viewer into the dream. It is lost, however, when the fact that good story-telling is forsaken, when one artist palette is given precedence over another. A good movie is an amalgam of several art forms, not the least of which is good story-telling. And though Pandorum is pretty and impressive and conceptually inviting, it isn't a good balance of those key elements.

Series Review: My Name is Earl

Going to break from the original plan and talk about a TV series I've been watching instead of a movie, and offer up my review of it. My preference is to avoid the delay that comes from watching television series through the networks, and instead wait for the DVD packaging of the entire season. I do this for a couple reasons: I hate commercials and if I can avoid supporting the practice I will, and I don't wish to wait for the next episode, preferring instead to immerse myself completely in the show.

The last couple days have been spent enjoying a series I saw the first episode of when it was originally aired, then walking away while I patiently waited for the DVD's to arrive. I then completely lost track of it until now. It has since been canceled in regular syndication, but the seasons that were made, as of this writing, can be conveniently seen on Netflix, which I have been doing.

“My Name is Earl” was a brilliant premise: A guy, who has lived his life doing 'bad stuff' because he is self indulgent and lazy, finds a winning lottery ticket only to be hit by a car during his initial celebration. His time spent in the hospital in traction, watching Carson Daly talk about a blessed life led with the knowledge that Karmic Destiny will ensure what comes around goes around, becomes a moment of refection for Earl, and the impetus of an epiphany. Earl makes a list of all the things he has done in his life which were 'bad' and is now on a quest to set right all the wrongs made by his hand. Each episode is another number on the list, as he picks and chooses, at random, which wrong to right today.

The moral and ethical dilemma's are fun, especially when pondered by the group of white-trash, racist, criminally pathological and down-right idiot characters that comprise the cast. Earl doesn't just have to deal with a car he stole during his days of mischievous debauchery; no, he must deal with the one-legged one-night-stand he drunkenly took to bed and ran out on when the fog of beer wore off the morning after, and who's car he made his terrified get-away in, shotgun blasting behind him by the hopping one-legged victim. He doesn't just need to decide how to handle an ex-wife, but one who duped him into marriage while she was pregnant with another man's baby, and who's second child was not only also not Earl's, but a different race as well. And all through this show we get to see the rationale that led to Earl's original sin, and the trials he must endure to pay back for those choices now. It is all tongue-in-cheek, taking race relations, petty crimes, emotional/physical abuse and ignorance in stride while it reaches down and finds the heart behind the harmfulness.

What makes this show work is a combination of brilliance from many directions. The writing is wonderfully rude and caustic, hilarious and base, yet grounded in integrity and sincerity. The characters are drawn with brash colors, but there are subtleties that grant them more than one dimension. The artistic direction holds onto the trailer-park chic of the characters and setting, giving us working examples of the pool Jerry Springer dips into daily. The concept is simple, yet sincere. And it was designed to carry the message of the show effortlessly, which it does.

Jason Lee plays Earl, a rogue looking for the enlightened path. With an untrimmed Burt Reynolds mustache and eyebrows that dance like ballerinas on his brow, Jason breathes life to a character at once flawed and full of heart. He is the moral compass of the show, yet he doesn't quite know how to read his new-found compass, and Jason allows this ignorant innocence to shine through brilliantly. Earl is unkempt, brutish and driven, naive and sincere. The rest of the cast add equal genius to their respective characters, each one showing the worst of a white-trash caricature while pulling from deep inside a heart that can touch us profoundly. Of special note is Jaime Pressley, who's character Joy is so caustic, so rude and repugnant, so deliciously racist and repulsive and lacking any 'polite' setting on her dial. Her beautiful face is rubber when she calls on it to be, reminiscent of Jim Carrey. Constantly twisting into grotesque emotional roadsigns that don't just enhance the attitude of this powerful woman but often turn her into the gargoyle she is portraying, Jaime's lovely face is always flipping from feigned indulgence, unchecked aggression, and cherubic evil by turns. Wrapped in the daisy-dukes of her particular species, she is at once heart-stoppingly beautiful and horrendously aberrant. The entirely of the cast carries some form of this dichotomy with them in their characters

The show is a treasure. I laugh continuously while I watch it. It is filled with subtle nuance, after-school-special life-lessons, and jaw-dropping inappropriateness. It reminds me of what was done right by such shows as Arrested Development. It is a great series, on every level.

Movie Review: Zombieland

Review: Zombieland

Dir: Ruben Fleischer

Being a fan of comedy I have given over a portion of my attention to what comprises a good joke. Now my detractors will immediately state that humor is subjective, and to label any one thing as particularly funny while another may be labeled as not is merely an opinion on my part. As a retort, I would remind my detractors that there are, indeed, universal gags that transcend opinion and subjectivity, and the people who don't appreciate even the most fundamental comedic gags likely didn't get the joke.

Zombieland is a brilliantly written piece based in a post-apocalyptic world where some minimally explained virus has turned nearly all of humanity into mindless flesh-craving zombies. That is all that needs to be said about the setting; zombie movies through the years have explored every possible avenue of the genesis of zombies, and for a movie deigning to leave the over-taxed subject aside it justifiably just isn't important anymore. The story instead follows the life of a young man who, resolutely introspective in the normal world, finds a reason to emerge from his self-imposed cocoon while struggling as a survivor in a harsh environment under barbaric conditions. It is a coming of age tale, truth be told. What stands out, however, is the quality of writing and story telling; how this otherwise simple tale combined with a tired horror concept is given new life.

There is a particular gag among the myriad of wonderful comedic offerings in this buffet which stood out for me while I watched. And as I now sit reflecting on it, I ask myself why it was so effective. The gag is the young type-A hero's list of survival rules, of which we are given constant examples of as the movie roles on. “Don't be a hero”, “Cardio (being in shape)”, the “Double-Tap” (which simply means ensuring a Zombie is dead by shooting it once it is down and seemingly out, just to make sure). These rules are helpfully displayed on the screen reminiscent of a narrative along the bottom of a page in a novel. Just in case you missed Rule No. 17 in action, a partially interactive text pops on the screen and helps you along. It is a running gag, and it works powerfully in the way this story was told.

This quasi-horror movie doesn't fit in the horror category anymore because of gags like this. It is a comedy, and from the very beginning we are allowed to ignore the inconsistencies, laugh along with the whole-sale, and often ingeniously performed (note the “Zombie Kill of the Week”) slaughter of countless, otherwise tragic, beings. When the gore is thickest, and the tension is high, a moment of text will highlight the screen and remind us about Rule No. 9, and that it is OK to breathe, to laugh, to cheer the carnage. The timeless Running Gag has got our back all through the movie.

It even makes an appearance at the very end, when an important rule is broken, when our hero finds the nerve to break free from his self-imposed isolation. It is symbolic of how we all realize the rules we impose on ourselves may have had meaning, a clear rational cause for existence earlier in our lives and once served to protect us. Yet our circumstances change over time. Those rules sometimes debilitate us more, now, than they protect us. Heavy message to bring to the table. But not to worry; the Running Gag is here to remind us to breathe, and to laugh, and to cheer our hero as he learns to grow.

This movie is fun to watch. It is laugh out loud funny, which is always more when shared it with a group of friends, so I suggest you watch it with friends. The jokes are often small and subtle in contrast to the gun-shots and falling pianos and mobs of flesh hungry zombies being blasted from the seat of a roller-coaster. But that makes them all the more effective. It is a movie of contrasts, being both stomach churningly gross and tear producingly endearing. The actors are given the room to make us care about them and their survival, even as we find ourselves initially comparing them to people we know and don't like. It is horrific, it is touching, it is funny, and it is thrilling. And it knows how to tell the joke so everyone can get it.

Movie Review: Michael Clayton

Review: Michael Clayton

Dir: Tony Gilroy

Movies come in many shapes and colors, that much is obvious to even the most casual movie-goer. As a movie-phile I am not above pigeonholing any film that I feel warrants it, and Michael Clayton, in my opinion, warrants a good pigeonholing. I enjoyed the film. I think, however, it is a vehicle for one actor, and for him alone. George Clooney is a great actor, and this movie does a wonderful job of focusing on him, but to the exclusion of nearly everyone else who rounds out this star studded cast.

Michael Clayton is about a lawyer who holds the thankless role of being the “fixer” in a high-powered legal firm who represents huge multinational corporations when their deprivations lead to the odd class-action lawsuit. When the actions of a fellow attorney in the firm threaten to bring down the tenuous house of cards a chemical company has built for itself, Michael is called on to bring the errant lawyer to heel, convince him to put his clothes back on and start taking his meds again, and must do all this while the thoroughly evil head of the thoroughly evil corporation is pulling out everything from her thoroughly evil bag of tricks to eliminate any possible legal string from being pulled to unravel her tailor-made white-color corporate power-suit. The result, predictably, is said unravelling, and along the way we watch the thoroughly evil corporation as it is painted in darker and darker shades and money and power trump ethics at every turn. Michael, who appears to be the antithesis of the common man, is colored as an anti-hero until the last frames of the movie when his own ethically gray choices are redeemed by a last act of character defining heroism. But that is just the plot.

George Clooney's personal history of anti-corporate, pro-environmental political stances aside, this movie is all about him carrying a story for the director. It isn't a bad story, though it isn't all that original. The character of Clayton is a troubled anti-hero, as I mentioned, estranged from members of his family even as he tries to hold onto the relationship with his son, whom he sees as often as any divorcee is able given the company-oriented choices he has made which likely led to the divorce. As an example of what is original in this character study is how the director has allowed this to become merely a facet of Michael and his son's life, rather than pelting us with the bricks of morality many other directors may have resorted to. Michael is a flawed creature in a self-serving world, and isn't above the resentments we all hold on to when our relationships let us down, whether it be our families or our business partners, yet this is life as normal as life gets. Michael is dealing with issues concerning his brother, concerning his role in the company, concerning his clients, concerning the choices he made to arrive where he is. And instead of hammering home the heavy consequence of not always taking the ethical high-road, Michael Clayton is just a man struggling from one day to the next, bouncing back and forth as he strives to handle each issue in his life. At one point, as Michael is driving back from a family birthday party where his estranged brother made an uncomfortable appearance in front of his son; he stops the car and gives his son a short, heart-felt acknowledgment designed to guide him along life's obstacle ridden path. The scene isn't forced, but rather filled with the frustration of a resentful brother and essential father trying to do what is right, and not knowing what that right thing necessarily is. And Clooney carries the role of Clayton with as much subtlety as the director and writer asked for, a testament to the chemistry that must have been present on-set. The performance, the entire portrait, is therefore much more satisfying to behold, because it isn't forced, it is simply realistic.

Which is such a contrast from the rest of the characters in the film. The errant lawyer, over-played by the otherwise wonderful Tom Wilkinson (who just can't seem to keep his clothes on after “The Full Monty”) is more caricature than believable brilliant but bipolar trial lawyer who finds his moral compass late in the game and can only see the most self-destructive methods for righting the wrongs of his past. Tilda Swinton tries to evoke a level of humanity in her portrayal as the corporate demon, but her wonderful performance just isn't given the legs to really run. Sydney Pollack doesn't even try to repaint his portrayal as lead partner in the legal firm in shades of gray, letting the stereotype of the self-serving lawyer be his only muse. Nope, George Clooney is the only actor here allowed to put his best foot forward. And though he does, with a performance that evokes sympathy as well as disgust, his is the only character with more than 2 dimensions. I guess that shouldn't be a surprise; after all, the movie is named “Michael Clayton”.

I liked the movie quite a bit, because it is very well made, has a compelling story and a compelling performance by a great actor. It is refreshing in it's portrait of a man being human, making human choices, and struggling to find the conscientious path when that path isn't clear. It isn't a huge surprise at the end, but it is satisfyingly executed. If anything, it is a reminder that not all pieces of art are required to be brilliant or break the boundaries of whatever medium they exist in. Some pieces of art are simply well made, and a pleasure to appreciate.

Movie Review: Bad Taste

Bad Taste

Dir.: Peter Jackson

You may have heard of Peter Jackson. I'll assume you have.
We take for granted that creators of works of art which we consider classics have always been masters of their art. It is almost inconceivable that a renown artist was once simply a gifted amateur with a passion and a dream. Even more incomprehensible; an amateur showing little talent for the genre. Peter Jackson has been gracious enough to show us his early days as a budding director. He has a few slasher/horror movies to his credit, and stomach-churning gore was his canvas of choice. Bad Taste marks a moment is his career when money was nonexistent, plot and script were almost after-thoughts, and special effects producing the maximum amount of reaction from the viewer were high on the list of priorities. I won't criticize Jackson's muse; there is a huge fan following for such films and I am not going to judge the taste of others. What I will say is that Jackson the Auteur was still groping to find his way at this stage. There is a distinctive style, but the brush-strokes are broad and brutal.

Jackson doesn't make a narrative story so much as speak to you while throwing bricks at you, so to speak. The true star of this film is the gross-factor. At one point a hero of the movie has fallen to his seeming death over the side of a truly horrific cliff sprouting rocks and boulders like a Chia pet sprouts, well, sprouts. After a few scenes this hero, who was last seen sprawled across the rocks as a lifeless corpse, flails away the luckless seagulls and pulls himself back together; quite literally. A brilliant piece of cheap make-up has the back of the hero's skull hanging open like a trap-door, and bits of brain are falling out in a heap. He tries to shake the fuzziness out of his vision, feels the pangs of his missing brains, spots the stuff he is missing in a small gelatinous pile behind him; and proceeds to scoop it up and stuff it back into the open cavity, gravel, stray scrub-grass, seagull shit and all. A handy top hat found in a nearby wrecked car serve to keep his brain-flap closed until he can find his companions.

The movie is tongue-in-cheek, the budget consisted of pizzas and soft-drinks, and the script was likely written on the backs of tavern coasters. The special effects and make-up are pretty impressive, considering the amount of money going into the production, which is likely the truest testament to Jackson's genius. He made a bad film, but obviously wasn't aiming high, so it works. I am not a fan of this genre, but I could still appreciate the crafting of this piece of art. I didn't enjoy it enough to watch it again and again, but enough to have seen it once.

What really stood out for me was watching the formation of a truly great director who is finding his way. His use of guerrilla cinematography and cuts that make little sense for the viewer are tell-tale signs that he was still an amateur finding his way. His creativity, though aimed at producing a desired reaction, still shines like a lighthouse beacon through the fog of the film's other limitations. I had more fun comparing what he produced then and is able to produce now than I had actually watching the film for what it offered on it's own.

Movie Review: In the Name of the King

There is a song, by Whitesnake, and the opening lines go something like this:
“Who knows where the cold wind blows?
I ask my friends, and nobody knows.
Who am I to believe in love?
O-o-oh, love ain't no stranger.”

When I stop and reflect on that verse I tend to think, WTF? What the heck does that mean? That doesn't make any sense at all! Gawd! Whitesnake sucks!

So I pop in a movie and watch it instead. Movies offer me more. I get the complete package; compelling story, epic sounds and stirring music, lovingly crafted characters and an overall artistic rendering that can be seen as a whole, or micro-analyzed, and loved. Or hated. Which brings me to my first movie review.

“In the Name of the King: A Dungeon Siege Story", came out in early 2008. It looked pretty fun, as per the trailer. But that is the job of the trailer, isn't it; to convince enough people to go watch a movie in it's opening week that the cost to make it is hopefully recovered? And this trailer did what it could, gentle readers. It did all it possibly could.

Just like the actors. There are some names in this cast which will stand out for you: Jason Stratham, John Rhys-Davies, Ray Liotta, Burt Reynolds, Ron Perlman, LeeLee Sobieski, Claire Forlani, Matthew Lillard... all of whom have some pretty impressive careers behind them. This vehicle, however, was beyond their impressive abilities and experience. The unexplainable mix and awkward chemistry of these actors feels more like a casting director calling in all the favors he was owed in one desperate push. The script was... well, let me tell you the story first. Allow me to tell you the plot, first, because I believe you will know the script shortly afterward.

Plot: Savage human/animal army is invading a kingdom, lead by an evil sorcerer from his dark lair. He has seduced the nephew of the king with promises of power, and the daughter of his arch-rival the King's Magus with promises of love. The evil army's first stop on the road to the castle is the small town of Stonebridge, where they kill the son of , and kidnap the wife of, “Farmer”, who has no other name because he has no parents and lives now as a, well, a farmer. Farmer is determined to get his family back, and though he has no love for the King, discovers along the way he really is the long-lost illegitimate prince. When people are pitching this to their producers over pricey brunches and say things like “it practically writes itself” they aren't exaggerating; after having been told so many times, there is no original way left to tell it. Oh, here is an unexpected twist; Farmer is a master with the Boomerang. Bet you didn't see that one coming.

So, now you've read the script (make up any tripe in your head, and as long as it doesn't shoot really far off the mark and can be brought back around somehow, like the toss of a boomerang, then you will be fairly close to the document the actors were handed.), all you need is a hook. Uwe Boll already has that covered. This movie is based on a video game, Dungeon Siege, which was an uninspiring RPG that didn't offer much innovation to a market already saturated by the fantasy genre. There are games that stand out as having achieved greatness and would acquire places of honor in a gaming hall of fame, but Dungeon Siege isn't one of those games. Does that mean it doesn't warrant a film based on its, uh, inspiration? Well, I will just say that it got what it deserved, and leave it at that.

Uwe Boll deserves recognition. Not many people can take a bad script and unoriginal story, and make it worst than the sum of its parts so effectively. And I place the blame for the mediocrity of this film completely on his shoulders. The actors do their best to rise from the mire of this script. Burt as the King is struggling to find his regal bearing, John is only a glance away from the misplaced camera's be convince us of his mystic power, And Ray Liotta is always just about to let his captivating smile and piercing eyes do the talking, but the cinematography is horrible and each scene is cut far too soon. Claire Forlani and Jason Stratham have a touching moment early in the movie, where his rough exterior is being gently prodded by her passionate love for him; just as we are beginning to fall in love with these characters ourselves, the scene is brutally cut, and we are left with precious little to carry us through the rest of the movie. Farmer's rag-tag group of friends he has enlisted to follow him to hell and back (I assume you already deduced he had one) show the signs of rib-poking fun all battle-hardened warriors share with each other, but each instance feels like it was slotted in afterwards, as though Uwe didn't come up with the idea until late in the shoot and wanted to splice them in whenever he found a spot. The run-time on certain scenes feels like it was determined using a dart-board, and the person in charge of continuity showed up late to the editing party, still hung over from the wrap-party. Uwe was the director, and ultimately it was his decision to carry on with a tired script, poor camera placement in nearly every scene, and editing that was done using a paper-shredder. It was his decision, and he deserves the blame for this movie

[Spoiler Alert] The movie does end, and I for one, was grateful for that.