Netflix This: Mud

     You may remember the preview a few months back: it's that one where Matthew McConaughey looks really grimy and there's a dilapidated boat wedged dozens of feet up a group of trees in a remote forest. But it would be a shame to write Mud off as just another average film starring McConaughey--it's much more than that. Written and directed by Jeff Nichols, who has created two interesting and original American films (2007's Shotgun Stories and 2011's Take Shelter [both starring Michael Shannon, of Boardwalk Empire fame]) already, Mud made its rounds on the film festival circuit in 2012 and had a limited theatrical release earlier this year. A southern tale about two boys coming of age and coming to realizations about life, love and death, Mud is an enjoyable film for just about anyone, a movie that's heartwarming and charming that induces smiles instead of eye rolls.
     A part of Mud's success is due to McConaughey's solid performance. An actor who used to take any romantic comedy role that made men look like fools and an actor that never explored outside of his range, Matt is having somewhat of a moment: 2011 showed that he could thrill and be freaky in The Lincoln Lawyer and the weird-but-watchable Killer Joe, in 2012 we witnessed his snake-like character Dallas in the great Magic Mike, and later this year he portrays an AIDS patient in The Dallas Buyer's Club, fully invested with a 38-pound weight loss. His performance as the titular character in Mud shows that he can transfix an audience with mysterious motives and a thrilling intensity, enchanting us into caring about this southern fairy-tale.
     The plot is all modern-day Mark Twain, focusing on two boys with stressed family lives who like to explore the swamps and bayous of the Mississippi River. Upon sneaking around a seemingly-uninhabited island, they find a boat hanging on the limbs of some tall trees. They climb up and soon realize--by discovering cans of food and porno magazines--that a man has been hiding (or living) inside of the boat. As the boys slowly get to know this island-dweller, they realize (especially Ellis, portrayed by Tye Sheridan in a breakout role) that the man isn't so different from them. He's in love with a girl, Juniper (Reese Witherspoon, who doesn't do too much of note), and he's hiding on the island, on the run from the law, waiting for her to meet him so they can sail off into the sunset. Unfortunately for Mud, a murder investigation and a group of thugs trying to track him down throw a wrench into reuniting with "the one that got away". Mud's a southern mystery with a thrilling finale that really hits home due to the film's flood-like slow build.
      The acting is great, that's been established. Especially McConaughey and Sheridan as one of the boys. Fan's of Deadwood may recognize Ellis's dad, Senior--it's Ray McKinnon, the too-early-cancelled show's preacher. He's good too.  Even Micheal Shannon shows up as Galen, the other boy's uncle. But the real star is what director Jeff Nichols can do with a character-driven story. He's got an eye for beautiful imagery, and the southern setting gives him a plethora of picturesque scenes to work with: the bubbling water behind a boat, the setting sun over the Mississippi river, the swaying trees in a light breeze. It makes you feel like you're there, instead of just watching. It cements Jeff Nichols into the list of great American filmmakers.
     Mud walks a very fine line between being heartfelt and a little too saccharine, but luckily that line is very rarely crossed. The story of adolescence, boys on the brink of becoming men, and men who still haven't given up on the notions of boyhood love, is one that anybody can find interesting and watchable. Add a crime story that's unpredictable and a violent climax, and Mud becomes one of the better films of 2013, a year that needs far more films like this and far less than what we're seeing most every week in the local cinema.

Matt Damon, Leader of Occupy Elysium

     Back in 2009, director Neil Blomkamp burst on the scene like one of the bodies that he is so good at exploding into mush with District 9, one of my favorite films of that year and a wonderfully original sci-fi ride. Starring another newbie, Sharlto Copley, the film was filled with a great blend of unique action and pertinent social commentary that made you think as often as it made you squirm. Needless to say, I was excited for Elysium, Blomkamp's newest sci-fi creation (and only second film total). Starring Matt Damon at his most ripped and badass, Elysium is still a solid ride, and it showcases two important points: Blomkamp is a director that is sure to please audiences for years to come, and the film--though never reaching the surprising heights of District 9--is a sometimes-corny-sometimes-exciting futuristic actioneer that does just enough to satiate the hunger of summer moviegoers looking for something a little bit different.
     Matt Damon is very good in Elysium, and he's really showing his range in 2013 (just take a look at HBO's Behind the Candelabra). Portraying Max, an ex-con factory worker living on a ravaged and derelict-ridden Earth, he holds the screen better than any action star. Sure, the film is set in the year 2154, seemingly very far into the future, but the more realistic visions of Elysium seem merely decades away. A dilapidated shithole, this future Los Angeles is desert-like and overpopulated, with criminals and a militarized robot police force controlling the streets. The human population feels almost hopeless (a particularly amusing scene with Max and his parole officer comes to mind). Almost, because of a glimmer not too far above the Earth's atmosphere.
     You see, the 1% ditched Earth for greener pastures, the Halo-esque space station called Elysium, with its luxurious McMansions, gorgeous eco-system, and fake-breasted bikini-clad women who sip martinis and speak in French. Particularly of note are most of the homes up on the planet-esque space station: most are equipped with Med-Pods, futuristic MRI machines that can cure any illness within a few seconds. Testicular cancer? Zap, it's gone. Broken bones? Poof, they are mended. There's one catch: you have to be a citizen of Elysium to use one of these machines--it reads a sort-of-barcode on users' wrists before they lay down on top of the slick white pad.

     This wouldn't be an exciting science fiction film, filled with powerful gun fights and connections with our own society if we didn't have a clash between the mega-rich of Elysium and the down-trodden earthlings living in complete squalor. In walks Max, who as a child (with his semi-girlfriend, Frey) dreamed of one day living in the peace of the outer colony. He eventually has a really bad day at work. Not like one of us, where if the coffee is warm instead of hot it can ruin a whole morning. Max accidentally gets caught in a chamber at the factory and takes a lethal dose of radiation. He is given five days to live by an emotionless robot. The owner of the factory, John Carlyle (who also has connections to the most powerful people on Elysium) couldn't care less. So Max only has one choice: hook up with Spider (Wagner Moura), a smuggler, and Julio (Diego Luna), a trusted friend, and steal a ride to Elysium to get to a med pod.
      But Getting up there isn't easy: Jodie Foster portrays the bitchy and dangerous Secretary Jessica Delacourt, who uses lethal force to prevent unauthorized access to Elysium and has some very important plans of her own. Max also is pretty weak since the workplace incident, so Spider hooks him up with a spider-esque Eco-skeleton that makes Max nearly as much machine as man. His old love interest, Frey (Alice Braga) also adds some tension to the proceedings--there's nothing like an action hero whose love interest is in peril. Her daughter having Leukemia poses a roadblock too. Can Max get up to Elysium to save himself? Or can he do even more than that, saving--dare I say?--the fate of planet Earth?
      Good set-up, but the action is hit-or-miss. Sharlto Copley is the most villainous character in the film, portraying Kruger, one of Secretary Delacourt's secret agents left on Earth. He sure does relish the opportunity, but most of his lines were kinda corny, the equivalent of consistently saying "Come at me, Bro!" every time he's near Damon's character. The action's filmed much less impressively than District 9, too. It constantly relies on slow-motion (tolerable) and occasionally delves into super quick-cut editing, the kind where you can't tell who is landing what punch within the confusing mish-mash (intolerable). Still: the charisma of Damon, Copley, and the cool gadgets that explode bodies into pink mist and chunks make it just satisfying enough.
      Damon does his best. He's very watchable. But Elysium can be a bit heavy-handed at times (I'm hesitant to use that term but it definitely fits here). The notions of the lack of health-care for many citizens and the constant battle between the 1%-99% are obviously relevant, but Elysium doesn't delve quite far enough to make those notions have any lasting impact. The ending--in particular--was pretty predictable and cheesy. Ultimately, it doesn't really matter: Near the end of summer movie season, we've seen so much garbage pass through the cinemas that any attempt at something pertinent and exciting is admirable--I just wish it had been a little more pertinent...and a little more exciting.     (B)

The Wolverine: Iron Man Logan

     Though X-Men Origins: Wolverine is known as one of the worst comic book films of recent memory, full of cliches and a plot that was predictable and a little tiresome, it was still far from terrible. And that's for one main reason: Hugh Jackman's portrayal as the character with razor-sharp claws. Jackman is one of those actors that is always watchable--his intensity, humor, and bursting-with-muscle-biceps cause both men and women to swoon and whoop with pleasure. So sure, viewers were ready for more. Only four years after his own origin story, we get another Wolverine film, one that brings in a new director and a fresher setting (Japan) to gash some life into a character that was (barely) growing a little stale. They mostly succeeded: although The Wolverine feels more like a side story instead of a brand new film and the final act succumbs to typical superhero-film-style overload, it's a fun time at the movies featuring Jackman at his sharpest and a bevy of solid slower character scenes and exciting action.
    When The Wolverine was first announced, the studio and Jackman wanted a fresher director that would inject some originality and innovation into the superhero franchise. So they signed on Darren Aronofsky, who worked with Jackman on The Fountain and has created some incredibly memorable modern cinema: Pi, Requiem for a Dream, The Wrestler, and Black Swan. Unfortunately, it didn't pan out--Aronofsky wasn't willing to be away for his family the nearly-year-long shoot in Japan. In walked director James Mangold, whose wide array of films (Walk the Line, 3:10 to Yuma) impressed the studio.
      The Wolverine is based upon one of the more cherished stories involving Wolverine, Frank Miller's comic book arc from way back in 1982. It's not exactly what you'd expect: by focusing on Logan's constant inner battle about his own immortality and his persistent nightmares about losing his one true love, this Wolverine (though filled with plenty of raw battles) is a more thoughtful affair. At the start, Wolverine is imprisoned in a Japanese POW camp just before an atom bomb drops. When the explosion happens, he saves a soldier about the get annihilated by taking the brunt of the blast. The soldier--foreshadowing many events to come in the film--then witnesses Logan's incredible healing ability, the burning skin and wounds sizzling back to perfect form.
     But the rest of the film takes place decades later, when Logan--now living in a cave like a derelict--gets recruited to say goodbye to the soldier (now an extremely rich man on his deathbed). The man's one dying wish is to thank the Wolverine for saving him many years in the past (or is it?). Following Yukio (Rila Fukushima), a badass Japanese broad with serious hand-to-hand fighting ability, Logan travels to Japan. Clearly, once there, he gets mixed up in a vicious concoction of Yakuza gangsters, protecting a Princess, his regeneration ability going haywire, and a slithering bitch of a "nurse" by the name of Viper (Svetlana Khodchenkova).

     Much of the second half of the film deals with Logan on the run, finally facing a question that he has never had to deal with before: when you've had immortality for so long, and that gets taken away, should you welcome death...or still fight with every last breath (or sharp claw)? A lot of parallels can be drawn with another Marvel favorite, Iron Man, specifically in Tony Stark's malfunctioning energy core heart and--like in the first film--a conclusion involving a mega-mech warrior creature and all-powerful billionaire. But The Wolverine still has plenty up its sleeve. Most of the action is fast-paced and occasionally innovative, like a fight atop a speeding bullet train and a very cool and memorable pre-climax surprise involving hundreds of arrows.
     What The Wolverine does wonderfully is make Logan finally feel human instead of a completely indestructible. It boosts some much needed actual tension into the proceedings. But still, it falls into some of the same traps as many other super hero films. The number of characters and villains sometimes becomes a chore to keep tally of (especially in the nearly half-hour long final section of the film) and one can't help but wonder what this could have been with Darren Aronofsky's unique cinematic vision (not that Mangold doesn't do a completely good and serviceable job). Still, there's no stopping Jackman's incredible charisma--it's easy to tell that he completely relishes this role. I just wish this had been a truly definitive Wolverine film instead of The Wolverine Travels to Japan.     (B)

Only God Forgives: Drive, by way of Boredom

     Expectations can be a dangerous thing: in 2011, Nicolas Winding Refn created my favorite film of the year, Drive, based on the book of the same name by James Sallis and starring Ryan Gosling as a bad ass wheelman. One of the many complaints about Refn's direction is his overuse of style and lack of any substantive narrative structure, and sometimes it seems he's more concerned with what synth-pop song to play in any given scene than the plot which is actually occurring. But Drive bypassed these concerns, showcasing Refn's signature shooting style with a pulpy plot that suited Ryan Gosling's brooding hero perfectly. Zoom up to present day, and seemingly-best-buds Refn and Gosling have created another arty film that deals with revenge and excessive violence. Unfortunately--this time around--the duo has regressed: Only God Forgives shines on a spotlight on the worst aspects of Refn's direction (his obsession with setting up scenes instead of servicing the story), contains one of the most boring performances of Ryan Gosling's career, and its plot is barely more than people walking from point A to point B bathed in neon light.
     Sure, people bathed in neon light look really pretty, and Refn has never had a problem setting up innovative and exciting camera angles. But it all means nothing if the art-house style makes it difficult for a viewer to hold his/her attention. And that's precisely what happens here. There arn't really characters in Only God Forgives in the traditional sense: they're just cardboard cutouts walking to and fro the next or last blood shed. Ryan Gosling portrays Julian, a man running a boxing club as a front for a drug operation. When his brother gets murdered (deservedly so, I might add), he sort-of seeks revenge with his Queenpin mother (Kristin Scott Thomas, overacting) who has flown into town after she heard the news. But even these descriptions are giving the plot too much credit. These things are less figured out than just "sensed".
    The villain role is played by Vithaya Pansringarm, portraying Lieutenant Chang, also known as the "Angel of Vengeance" (though that surely wasn't a fact that was retained in my mind). He's probably the most interesting character in the film, though that's not saying much--his facial expressions rarely change away from looking completely tranquilized. But he's super good at sticking sharp objects into people, particularly in one totally brutal scene which was cringe-inducing.
     The problem here is so much wasted potential: we know that Refn can creature incredible cinema (Drive), and we know that he can make entertaining films that lack plot (Bronson). Here is a film that has a frustrating plot that simply lacks much entertainment value. Sure, you can praise his directing style: you can call it Lynchian, Kubrickian, or whatever compliment that you can think of. But it doesn't change the fact that a film has to keep you interested. Take Upstream Color, for instance. This 2013 experimental film was completely off the wall, lacking a conventional narrative structure. But it was still very transfixing, and it never made me feel like Only God Forgives made me feel: like I was on a dull acid trip that happened to have occasional flashes of ultra-violence. It's all set-up (sure, gorgeous and wonderfully-filmed set-up) with minimal payoff.     (C-)

Pacific Rim: An Entertaining Summer Creature Feature

     I couldn't claim that I was "excited" for Pacific Rim when I first heard the premise (sometime last year): huge man-made robots clashing against giant alien monsters that climb through an alternate dimension worm hole way down in the deepest dark abyss of the ocean, wreaking havoc upon the Earth's most populated cities, laying waste with a few gigantic stomps. But the 10-year-old inside of me certainly was (there has to be a better way to say that). It sounded like a mixture of old Japanese monster movies and Transformers-esque special effects. In essence, that's essentially what Pacific Rim is. But thanks to director Guillermo Del Toro--who created a modern classic with Pan's Labyrinth and put an interesting twist on comic-book films with Hellboy and Hellboy 2--it strikes a cool balance between the two. Because of Del Toro's movie-making ability, Pacific Rim is one of the better films to watch in the theater this summer (it's beautiful and boisterous on the big screen), and though it falls into occasional CGI-overload confusion, it's an interesting and enthralling big-budget spectacle.
     At it's heart, Pacific Rim is Del Toro's love letter to those old films, and his geeky excitement is palpable when you witness the mega battles between the creatures and robots that are the size of skyscrapers. Set in the present day and then moving on to the near future, the film's plot is pure set-up to bring the vibrant destruction onto the screen: the aliens that float up from the crack in the Pacific Ocean are called Kaiju, and they're so full of bad-ass that no military (at first) has the power to stop them. They are fearsome creatures that destroy everything in their path, maiming national landmarks and noshing on any terrified humans that are standing nearby.
     Soon after the initial attacks, the World bands together all of their resources to create a defense that is capable to stand up to the Alien scum. These defensive robots are called Jaegers, and they're essentially massive robots with incredible technology that resemble Master Chief from Halo. Here's where things get a little wild: these robots are controlled not by one pilot but by two. In a process called "The Drift", the pilots' minds are linked together, experiencing the same memories of the past and intuition of what to do next in the fight. It's a left brain / right brain kinda situation, with each pilot controlling a portion of the Jaeger. It works best when the two pilots are compatible with each other, and that's determined by a training period to see who has a connection.

     Our main character is a man named Raleigh Becket, and he's a retired pilot that lost his brother when they were co-piloting an early Jaeger version during the first attacks of the Kaiju. He's a wild card, with a killer instinct and attitude that give him plenty of confidence. He gets brought out of retirement when Earth is facing its darkest hour by the Commander (Idris Elba, who was great on HBO's The Wire). To give our planet a fighting chance, he must work with a talented young woman (Rinko Kinkuchi) and two scientific minds (most notably Charlie Day, branching out nicely from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia).
     Obviously, this film is way more about action and destruction than acting and dialogue. And there's no doubt that Pacific Rim has an overall corniness to it, but it's a campy kind of corniness that's more often endearing than annoying. One could easily ask the question, "What makes Pacific Rim so much different than the Transformers films?" In other words, why is this film good and those "films" shit? Again, it comes down to Del Toro. In every one of his films, the human beings matter. They have living, breathing hearts. The awesome action that is shown supplements the needs and emotions of the human characters, instead of just creating an action set piece that looks like a slick car commercial.
     Pacific Rim looks absolutely incredible. I didn't see the film in 3-D, and I'm glad (it was post-converted to 3-D instead of filmed in 3-D). Without wearing the glasses, the colors were incredibly vivid and breathtaking. Other than a few of the night-time fighting scenes, the environments and special effects looked like they came directly from a painter's neon color palette. But like any mega-budget summer film, the CGI can grow a little tiresome. Especially when the robots and monsters clash in the darker light, and its tough to tell what's going on with all of the clanging.
     Ultimately, Pacific Rim is a good once watch. I don't think I'll be too interested to view it home unless an 80" flat screen magically appeared. Del Toro created a fun and amusing spectacle that pays homage to monster movies of yore with satisfying new ideas and tons of style with just enough substance: in other words, a great addition to this year's big-budget summer tent poles. Though I didn't enjoy it as much as couple other early summer films (Iron Man 3, Star Trek into Darkness), it's clear that with Del Toro's signature touch is one that makes just about any movie worth watching.  Just barely a (B+)

A Written Word Review: The Shining

     Stanley Kubrick's film adaptation of The Shining is well known as one of the greatest horror movies of any generation, hinging on a haunting performance by an all-out-crazy Jack Nicholson and showcasing how well the director's nuances worked with terrifying imagery and incredible POV camera tracking shots. It's easily one of my favorite (horror) films of all time. I was a huge fan of the book too, years ago (so I thought) when I read it. So, about a week ago, in preparation of King's upcoming sequel to his third book, called Doctor Sleep (released in September), I flipped open the cover of my copy and poured myself into the first few pages. Butterflies formed in my stomach. I started to sweat. My nerves jumped to the furthest edge of existence. I realized that--after all of these years of being a so-called Stephen King fan and absolutely loving the film version--I had never even read The Shining, one of King's most famous and treasured novels.
     I always knew that Stephen King was never big fan of his novel's portrayal on the big screen, but that clearly had nothing to do with the talent involved. You couldn't ask for a better Jack Torrance than Mr. Nicholson. So I went into the book version of The Shining with an eye for differences, an eye for determining why King was unhappy and what made the book better than the film. Now, don't get me wrong: both versions of The Shining clearly have plenty of room to coexist on the same landscape--they are both pinnacles in horror writing and horror film-making. But after blowing through the book extremely quickly (frankly, I could barely put it down), I realized that--like the majority of text to cinema adaptations--the book actually is even better.
     We all know (at least I hope) the basic plot lines that are common threads between both creations: there's a hotel, called The Overlook, out in Colorado that shuts down for the Winter. In order to maintain the establishment's basic needs (heating the pipes, general repair, emergencies), a caretaker is hired. Jack Torrance accepts the job, deciding that it's just what he needs to finish some important writing that he hasn't had the time to finish. He brings along his wife, Wendy, and his son, Danny, who has a special gift called "The Shining", a kind of telepathic power. He connects with a black cook named Hallorann, who also has the ability, but not nearly as powerful.  Once everyone leaves for the season, they are snowed in for months, and the hotel's horrific powers start becoming more and more evident.
     A few reasons the book is even better (feel free to skip this paragraph if you're planning on reading it): it really shows the struggle that Jack goes through with his alcoholism, self-pity and self-hatred. In the film version, Jack is never particularly a sympathetic character. As soon as the hotel begins showing its malicious power, Jack succumbs and the change is swift and brutal. In the novel version, we get much more time, and we get many more looks into Jack's psyche to show his slow, downward spiral into an abyss of alcohol and violence. And in the film, Jack is the main villain, other than the casual ghost-like being or hallucination that causes Jack to do something. In the novel, the hotel is a malevolent presence in itself. The Hotel is another character: a living, breathing entity that has a power that far exceeds any normal human being, and especially one full of previous violent episodes and someone filled with self-pity.
       As I stated before, King's newest book is titled Doctor Sleep, and it's a sequel to The Shining. This might worry some fans: a sequel to one of King's most cherished and mentioned novels, released almost 40 (40!) years after the original. But me, I'm not worried. I'm confident that King wouldn't take on a story dealing with a key character in The Shining unless he had a really damn good story, and a really damn good reason to deal with all of the criticism of just deciding to do it in the first place.

The tagline is certainly intriguing:

"With Doctor Sleep, Stephen King returns to the characters and territory of one of his previous novels, The Shining. The novel features the now middle-aged Dan Torrance (the boy protagonist of The Shining) and the twelve-year-old girl, Abra Stone, that he must save from The True Knot. The True Knot are a group of almost immortal travelers who cross the country feeding on children with the gift of "the shining." Dan drifted for decades in an attempt to escape his father's legacy, but eventually settled in a New Hampshire town and works in a nursing home, where his remnant mental abilities provide comfort to the dying. With the aid of a cat that can foresee the future, Dan becomes "Doctor Sleep." After meeting Abra Stone, an epic war between good and evil ensues."

King calls it a return to a "Balls to the Walls" horror novel. After reading The Shining (not to mention his last few books--he's still a great writer), I know I'll be stopping by the book store on its release date, ready to pick up my copy and dive in head first.

What You'll Want to Be Watching:

The Bridge

     FX is one of those television networks that has completely thrived in the era of original dramatic cable programming, second to only AMC (with Breaking Bad, Mad Men, and The Walking Dead). Starting with its breakout hit, The Shield (about corrupt LAPD detective Vic Mackey), back in 2002, it's continually pushed the boundaries with edgy characters and content, and it thrives at creating awesomely worthwhile shows. It gave us Rescue Me, the hit or miss show about NYC firefighters after 9/11, last year's The Americans with its intriguing Cold War premise, and consistently impresses every season with Justified, about our favorite soft-spoken U.S. Marshall starring Timothy Olyphant. Not too mention cult hits Sons of Anarchy and the disturbing Nip/Tuck. (Also not to mention Louie, the best sort-of comedy show currently on television.) Starting on July 10th, it looks like FX might have another hit: the crime thriller The Bridge. 

     The Bridge has a premise that will excite any crime drama lover: a woman is found dead directly on the Texas-Mexico border. One half of her is American, and one half is Mexican. But this show isn't just about a serial killer on the loose. The two detectives that team up (one from each nation) will have to withstand corruption, immigration issues, drug trafficking and prostitution. Unlike AMC's The Killing--which I still like--the material in The Bridge seems like it could be mined for a myriad of issues that pertain to border relations and all of the tensions that are heightened due to the stressful situation, instead of just trying to find one crazy killer.

     Sonya Cross (portrayed by Diane Kruger--you might recognize her from Troy or Inglorious Basterds) works for the El Paso PD. She's a straight-edge, rule-following officer who also happens to have Asberger's Syndrome. She has a bit of a personality that lacks empathy for other human beings while on her pursuit of the truth. But to proceed, she must team up with Marco Ruiz (portrayed by Demian Bichir--he was critically acclaimed in 2011's A Better Life), a Mexican state policeman who tries to be an upstanding cop even in the face of the cartel. 

     There's a lot of potential here, especially if you've caught one of the various teasers that have aired on FX in the past few weeks. They're full of grittiness, creepiness and beautiful cinematography of the parched desert-like wasteland. As anyone who watched Breaking Bad knows, this area of the country can become a character in itself. The Bridge was also created by Meredith Stiehm, who was an executive producer and writer of Showtime's brilliant Homeland. Early word is very positive. Let's hope that by the end of the first season, the momentum is still present, and hopefully we can't wait to return to the violent U.S./Mexico border. 

Season Premiere July 10th, 10 p.m., FX Network

Avoiding the Horde in World War Z

      If you're a fan of Max Brooks' 2006 novel (I thought it was decent), and you've been waiting in anticipation for a big-budget screen adaptation of the sprawling narrative, you should leave your excitement at the door. Because World War Z the film is an entirely different story about the zombie war, where the infected move and think like a colony of quick-moving ants and hop, skip and spring like cheetahs injected with adrenaline. It's way more Left for Dead than Night of the Living Dead. It's also much less contemplative on the social and political issues of the war and focuses much more on the world-wide carnage and cool action set pieces full of CGI and Brad Pitt running for his life. And that's okay: World War Z is a satisfying summer blockbuster that exchanges the book's slower-paced story format with non-stop tension-slathered situations, a film that's well made and entertaining yet doesn't quite cross the threshold of being great.
     After the opening credits, showing the typical quick newsreel footage of different places around the world, thing's start off with a loud Bang. Literally, as Gerry (Brad Pitt), his wife (Mireille Enos, who's so great in AMC's The Killing), and two young daughters are stuck in traffic in Philadelphia when a loud explosion occurs and people start running for their lives. Not ten minutes into the film, and we have our first action set piece: Gerry and his fam witness the insanity first hand, as the Olympic sprinter zombies smash through windows and windshields as they speed their way through gridlocked city streets. It's quickly very certain that this isn't your parent's zombie movie; everything happens with a blink of an eye: the "turn" after being bitten is only 12 seconds before you're fully zombified, twitching like your neighborhood crack addict.
     In one similarity to the book, scenes change from one world location to another, showcasing just how widespread the panic and devastation is. Gerry used to work for the U.N., so conveniently he gets chosen to travel from country to country to find where the "virus" originated. One location generally provides a clue that propels Gerry to the next location, and each country and city--whether it be South Korea, Jerusalem, or anywhere in America--generally shows us an exciting scene of Zombie action. Two come to mind the easiest: as seen in the previews, the horde that forms a living tower, crawling and jumping over each other to reach the top of a massive barrier wall, is frightening because you realize--like flies and maggots on a rotting corpse--that nothing stops these damn things. Another scene that takes place on a passenger jet is full-on intensity, rivaling last year's The Grey in showing why it's realistic to have a fear of flying.

     World War Z is directed by Marc Forster, who consistently makes good (but not great films): Monster's Ball, Finding Neverland, one of the best Will Ferrell films, Stranger than Fiction, and the worst of the Daniel Craig Bond films, Quantum of Solace--these cinematic experiences all have a common thread. They are all worth your time, yet are missing just a little something, like a Zombie that can't quite reach its victim through the metal bars of a prison cell. This film showcases some solid aspects of his direction though: the world-wide tale is ambitious, full of fun zombie action, and there are plenty of quiet moments where you wonder what is lurking around the next corner. Brad Pitt has always been an actor that's totally under-appreciated. To me--look at Seven, Fight Club, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, or Moneyball--he's one of our best actors. Always in control in every situation, his quiet performance isn't showy or over-the-top. It's realistic and, especially in the final third of the film, powerful.
      World War Z is a film that is told in three distinct acts, and the last portion of the film is a complete departure from the apocalyptic action of what came before it: it's slower and more thoughtful, and it actually works as a much more intimate look at the zombies and how they operate. It's also not the original ending of the film. Much has been said about the production woes on the set of World War Z: the budget ballooning from $125 million to $200 million (or more), a huge battle that was cut entirely from the film, seven additional weeks of re-shoots months after the filming was already concluded, and script re-writes including a brand new ending from the always-in-demand Lost writers--these things all spell major trouble.
     And sure, the film has some issues. Sometimes it can be over-ambitious--jumping from place to place, it's easy to get viewer jetlag (and hard to connect with characters we barely meet). The scenes between Gerry and his family have minimal impact, because we barely know them before flesh starts getting torn. And--my biggest problem--its PG-13 rating. Obviously, a $200 million dollar summer blockbuster has to make money, so an R rating would have made it tough to get a good return on investment. But this is a movie about zombies, so when the camera cuts away from teeth gnashing into necks, knives cutting off limbs, or bullets to a zombie's cranium, something gets lost in translation. The fear of the living dead is a primal sort of terror, a fear of being brutally eaten alive or violently transforming into one of the horde. With World War Z, we settle for an ambitious but neutered zombie story, an admirable attempt at a mega budget undead summer movie that sacrifices true terror with just enough tension.     (B)

Upstream Color: An Experimental Film About Parasites, Pigs, and the Connections Between People

     It's been nearly ten years since writer/director Shane Carruth broke onto the scene with Primer, a wicked cool sci-fi movie about time travel that cost less than $10,000 to make and won the Grand Jury Prize at the Sundance Film Festival in 2004. Like any great puzzle, Primer took immense concentration to figure out, and it shot Carruth to the forefront of young filmmakers willing to work with big ideas while using a small budget. Film fans couldn't wait to see what he would come up with next. Then they waited...and waited...and waited. They waited nearly 10 years, until January of this year when his newest creation, Upstream Color, premiered at the Sundance Film Festival. I'm not sure a viewer could say it was worth the wait if they were into narrative cohesion; in fact, I'm not sure a film such as this deserved to be judged at all: an abstract collage of scenes (sometimes connecting and sometimes not) featuring beautiful images and an incredibly weird plot propel Upstream Color into the realm of great American experimental film--key word "experimental".
     If you don't enjoy being challenged or confused while watching a movie, feel free to stop reading now. Because Upstream Color could take a dozen watches to truly figure out its intricacies (not that many will be willing to do that). The tagline sure doesn't give anything major away: "A man and a woman are drawn together, entangled in the life cycle of an ageless organism. Identity becomes an illusion as they struggle to assemble the loose fragments of wrecked lives." If you said you knew exactly what the film was about after watching it, you'd be lying. But there are many possibilities: the connections people make with each other, the connections humans have with other animals and nature, the mutual craziness that comes with love, the technique of making film a more visceral watching experience. These are all viable ideas.
     The plot basically concerns two people, though others play integral roles. Kris (Amy Seimetz), who works with computers, gets abducted by a man known as "Thief" and drugged with some form of larva (Thief shoots it down her throat) that completely alters her consciousness. Essentially, Thief now has complete control over Kris, and he makes her perform mundane tasks--like handwriting the book Walden page by page or taking sips of water--while he empties her bank accounts and the equity from her house. This first 30 minutes is the best and most intense part of Upstream Color. Once she is released from her trance, she is obviously completely devastated, remembering only tiny flashes of what exactly happened to her. Later, she meets Jeff (Shane Carruth, the director, writer, producer, cinematographer, composer, and production/sound designer of Upstream Color), who may or may not have experienced a very similar situation.

     As they begin to really get to know each other, they realize that their connections are certainly more peculiar than mere coincidence: memories involving an orchid-like flower, childhood incidences, and a mysterious man known as "Sampler"--who uses different sounds to lure people into his pig farm to perform operations involving the creepy larvae--start to invade their every thought and dream. Yeah, it's not really like anything you have seen before. And I don't even know if I can say that I really liked it. But it's unquestionably one thing: watchable.
     An easy comparison, in terms of the direction, is Terrence Malick, whose films have a dream-like quality that you experience rather than just watch. It's the same way here with Carruth's creation: nearly every shot and every sound is filmed in a way which is rarely seen or heard. The film also becomes a bit scatter-shot, without much of a conventional plot or scene structure, causing the viewer to become discombobulated but still utterly fascinated. The ideas at hand are deep and varied, and the feeling you get while watching is one of complete originality. You also couldn't fault a viewer who finds the entire film a bit too weird and eerie. But it still shows that the ultra-talented Shane Carruth is a director worth seeking out, as Upstream Color--like an intricate maze--is a rewarding piece of art.     (B+)     

(Upstream Color (2013) and Primer (2004) are both available on Netflix Instant)

Man of Steel is Merely O.K.

     Out of all of the superhero comics and films of the past fifty years or more, is there any caped hero more cherished or more loved than Superman? But he's also the one who is the most divisive among the rabid fan base of comic lore. In 2006, director Bryan Singer (who had already showcased his big budget hero aptitude with X-Men and X2) tried his hand at adapting Super's story with Superman Returns, a film that was decent and decently received by critics and fans. It was also lighthearted, big and bright. Flash to present day, 2013: Hollywood tries yet again to adapt a version of Kal-El's story, this time enlisting slo-mo-obsessed Zack Snyder (whose film career peaked with his first film--2004's Dawn of the Dead remake) to form a darker, more dangerous take on the man from Krypton. Luckily, there isn't much slow-mo. Unluckily, Man of Steel serves as a passable summer action film that fails to excite or incite tension, a movie that tries to be dark (like Nolan's Batman trilogy; he's a producer here) but instead ends up drab.
     Finding an actor that can portray America's favorite superhero is no easy feat. This time, it's British actor Henry Cavill, who does a serviceable job as Earth's salvation yet doesn't particularly bring any amount of charisma to the character. He zooms and flies around, ponders at the sky above him, wondering why he is the man who was sent to Earth to potentially help the greater good. But before he can bash and punch any bad guy (or girl) that threatens the human's safety, Man of Steel begins by showing how Kal was sent to our world to become Clark in the first place: Jor-El (Russell Crowe, who gains your attention without much effort, since most everyone else isn't incredibly exciting) has one last chance to save his race as the planet Krypton crumbles around him. He needs to send his son, Kal-El, to a planet where he can thrive. But General Zod (Micheal Shannon, whose usual insanity is utter brilliance, but here is too subdued) has other plans. It doesn't really matter what--this prologue is packed full of bombastic sci-fi action, all ending with Zod being banished into space and Kal-El slamming to Earth. I think we all know that banished space psychos don't stay banished for too long.
        Through flashbacks we get the general gist: Kal--now Clark--has been adopted by a caring Kansas couple (as the dad, Kevin Costner gets to give plenty of vague insight about potential and becoming the man Clark was meant to be...typical superhero back story). He has trouble not showing his incredible power: saving the kids on a crashed school bus, avoiding getting back at the bullies even though he could rip their throats out. As a man, Clark becomes a bit of a Nomad, catching work at a dive bar or on a Deadliest Catch-esque fishing boat deep out to sea. All is well and good for the loner, until an alien ship is discovered deep under the ice, reporter Lois Lane (portrayed by Amy Adams, whose romantic connection with Cavill is shaky at best) starts getting up in his business, and a distress call allows Zod to try and take revenge.

     It's all just kinda...been there, seen that. The second half of the film deals with Zod and Superman battling with their brains and their brawn, and it's here that many of the films problems arise to the surface: first, is it possible for a superhero franchise to come up with a story that doesn't involve an alien ship beaming some form of laser into the Earth, either to extract its resources, destroy its core or alter its gravitational pull? It's getting kind of tiresome that the biggest threat to humanity is hardly ever a well-developed character and is typically a scientific object (I thought Star Trek into Darkness nicely avoided this earlier in the summer).
     Secondly, I feel like it may be nearly impossible to make a Superman film that has actual, palpable tension. The hero is nearly indestructible, and the viewers know that basically any threat that is thrown in front of our red and blue salvation will be taken care of with ease, or only a little bit of difficulty. Plenty of action scenes in Man of Steel pit Superman against Zod and a few of his select followers, and the action completely consists of Superman Zipping through the air, bashing into people and objects, demolishing buildings and vehicles, smashing back and forth. It's all CGI in front of green screens, and although the special effects look good, they do nothing exciting to propel the story forward. There's barely any innovation, just an all out punching and throwing assault between Superman and Zod that grows tiresome after a couple of minutes.
     And speaking of General Zod again--and although Micheal Shannon was fine as the film's villain--I was definitely hoping for more. In nearly every single film and television role that he is in, Shannon displays an insanity and exciting unpredictability that inches you to the edge of your seat: as ticking time bomb Agent Van Alden in HBO's Boardwalk Empire, as the schizophrenic psycho in the hilariously freaky Bug, or the father who is obsessed with tornadoes in Take Shelter, he is always incredibly watchable. Here, he's just a typical superhero villain that is spayed by the film's script and rarely has a chance to display his ferocious intensity.
     If it feels like I've been a bit too hard on Man of Steel, it's actually pretty understandable: just in the past couple of months, we've seen summer blockbusters that just did it so much better, like Tom Cruise's Oblivion, Tony Stark's innovative Iron Man 3, and especially Star Trek into Darkness. All three contained at least some of the childlike wonder that accompanies the best big budget films of the summer movie season. Man of Steel--for the most part--lacks it. It tried to fit the story of Superman into the Batman Begins mold, and although nothing is particularly less than decent about it, it could have been so much more. News of a sequel have already been announced. And like the "S" that sits at the front of Superman's suit, maybe it's a symbol of Hope that next time they can do a little better.     (C+)

This Is the End Lets You Forgive This Crew For "Your Highness"

     For me, going to comedies in the theater is typically a tricky proposition. My enjoyment of a film can take a sharp nose dive is everyone sitting around is me laughing obnoxiously over every little joke, funny or not funny. I went to This Is the End because early word was very positive and I'm a huge fan of the Seth Rogen / James Franco stoner odyssey Pineapple Express, one of Franco's best performances in any of his films. And not only was I not disappointed, but This Is the End is oftentimes a hilarious comedy about the Apocalypse that is full of super funny meta self-characterizations that let the actors poke fun at themselves at nearly every turn.
     The set-up is quite simple--the script, partially written by Rogen and his writing partner, Evan Goldberg, gets to the point quickly--and it's clear from the very beginning that every actor in the film is playing an exaggerated version of themselves. Some of the first lines poke fun at Rogen's trademark Heh Heh Heh laugh that many find annoying but some (myself included) find charming. Rogen's at the airport to pick up his friend Jay Baruchel who's in town to visit (This Is the End is actually an extension of a 2007 short film, titled Jay and Seth verses the Apocalypse). Once they get home and smoke enormous amounts of weed, Rogen decides to bring Jay to a house party over at James Franco's killer contemporary pad.
     The party is a pretty funny parody of what a gathering of young celebrities would look like: massive amounts of booze, drugs, and scantily-clad women flow out of each and every room. Michael Cera pops up in a particularly laugh-out-loud role. As Jay wanders around the party, it's clear that he isn't into the Hollywood culture. Upon meeting Jonah Hill (who is actually quite brilliant in his over-portrayal of his nice-guy image), Jay decides that most stars are sell-outs and fakes. He sets off to find a convenience store--he's got a mad case of the munchies, after all--and Rogen follows him.
     What follows is a film full of very high highs and rarely any low lows. While at the store, the pair witness something that seems inconceivable: a few of the fellow patrons--with a loud Bang!--are beamed up to Heaven, bathed in a bright blue light. The Rapture is occurring, and they clearly weren't chosen. All "Hell" breaks loose, so they drop their snacks and rush back to Franco's pad where...nothing has changed. Everyone's still dancing, laughing, and partying hard. What the two just witnessed, did it actually happen? Or was it just a side effect of being really really high?
     The cast is particularly great at creating personas that are just a little more over-the-top of their normal  portrayals, while also poking fun at their personal life. Two people in particular: James Franco and Danny McBride. With the world ending just outside of Franco's door, the group pool their supplies, lock the doors, and decides to wait it out. Franco is similar to his completely out-of-it character in Pineapple Express, a guy who takes offense but can spit out absolutely hilarious lines like the rest of the comedic actors. He also has a weird obsession with Seth Rogen that the film plays for laughs. After the first night, the group wakes up to find that another actor has been in the house the entire time. It's Danny McBride, whose every career move will always be compared to his take-no-prisoners brilliant portrayal of failed baseball pitcher Kenny Powers on HBO's wonderful Eastbound and Down, and his persona in this movie is even more insane. Him and Franco bicker beautifully at nearly every turn, and their talking then screaming argument about McBride masturbating everywhere around the house is completely gut-busting. Not to say the other members of the holed-up cast aren't funny: Jonah Hill, Jay and Seth, and Craig Robinson (best remembered from Hot Tub Time Machine) all have at least a scene or two (or ten) that will bring a smile to your face.
     Most of This Is the End takes place inside of Franco's massive mansion, and the film is better for it. These guys are at their best when they're all in a room, arguing or quickly playing up their movie star personas. It falters a bit when the camera leaves the house and focuses on the demonic creatures and situations that are happening in the outside world. One such scene happens soon after Jay and Seth's stoned-and-starving store run, and the movie could have really taken a turn for the worse at that point. Luckily, it didn't. Rogen's script smartly keeps the pace fast and much of the action inside the ever-more claustrophobic walls of Franco's home.
     If you can't stand these guys (like Rogen's laugh, Jonah Hill's sarcasm, or McBride's all out assault of bad taste and vulgarity), This Is the End certainly won't change your mind. The film is more about these stars acting the way that they act--only it's in the face of being left behind by God after The Rapture. It even goes into the reasons of why this group of seemingly good men--actors that bring joy and smiles to the masses--didn't get beamed up above the clouds to witness all the glory of God. Franco is certain he didn't because he once banged "Linsey Lohan at the Chateau Marmont", a great joke for anyone that's opened an US Weekly.  But the real reasons are more complicated than that: and they are full of great laughs in one of the best comedies so far this year.     (B+)

The Purge Doesn't Quite Live Up To Its Cool Concept

     Picture a future that looks a lot like ours on the surface. There's still a gargantuan gap between the richest people in the neighborhood and the poor and down-trodden, but unemployment is at an all time low of around 1%. Crime still occurs, yet hardly ever: there is no need for a concealed weapons permit or to even to lock your car door after you slam it. All is well in America--better than ever, it seems--due to one 12-hour period that happens annually: The Purge. This purge allows all crime (including murder, though the film never goes into the specifics of more disgusting crimes, like child molestation) to be legal during those 12 hours. You can drive around, shooting all of your fellow employees, or you can take a machete to your neighbor's yelping dog. Think of it as a cleansing time for anyone with sociopathic tendencies. During this time, all police and emergency services are suspended: 7 P.M. to 7 A.M. This is the interesting set up for The Purge, a thriller that starts off really strong but slowly (or quickly, considering the film is only 85 minutes) falls into a predictability that purges much of the movie's excitement.
     James (Ethan Hawke) is a family man who loves the annual purge more for the dollar signs than for the cleansing of the soul: he's a home security salesman, and in this story (obviously), making your home a fortress of the latest protection technology is of utmost importance. He's one of the leading salesman for his company, and he has one of the biggest houses in his upscale suburban neighborhood, most of which is equipped with his expertise. Things begin briskly--with hours and then minutes before the annual purge begins--as we meet James's family: his wife, Mary (Lena Headey, of Cersei Lannister fame) holds a nervous tension about the yearly event. His 18-year-old daughter, Zoey, is the typical rebellious type--wearing a short skirt and making out with her older boyfriend, she'd rather spend The Purge texting emoticons than watching the violent news coverage. Most importantly, we have younger Charlie, who questions the need for The Purge and also has a cool camera-equipped Roomba-esque remote control robot that roams the house, spying on anything interesting.
     As the clock strikes 7 P.M., James enters the code, the house goes into lock-down mode--complete with metal gates that slam shut over every door and window--and the security cameras pop up on the many screens on the one wall of his McMansion. And when those gates slam shut, it also shuts out the possibility of the film taking a wider view of the futuristic concept that was so intriguing. No need to spoil the specifics, but the rest of the run time involves a hurt man begging to be let in, a group of characters that doesn't bring much new to the home invasion sub-genre of horror films, and a few predictable twists that are not un-enjoyable but also aren't surprising in the least.

     Ethan Hawke is always pretty good in these types of roles: a man with a brimming intensity that sometimes can show to the surface with his excitement. The other cast does their part with nothing special or overly praise-worthy. The characters that pose a threat to the family are creepy, but a little over-the-top: they're like a cross between the preppy tennis-outfit-wearing teens of Funny Games (I couldn't help but think how Ryan Gosling would have been perfect bringing his intensity to the intruder role) and the violent invaders of The Strangers. And speaking of those two films, The Purge succumbs to the genre conventions in its final act and has trouble separating itself away those similar movies. And nearly everyone falls into the horror film trap of making completely idiotic decisions: Don't open that door! Don't make so much noise when you're trying to be quiet! Finish people off when you stab them!
     The film was written and directed by James DeMonaco, who guided Hawke in 2005's Assault on Precinct 13. He definitely has a knack for setting up intense scenes where the tension is completely palpable. One of the more creative aspects of the film is Charlie's remote control robot that crawls from room to room, and it's not giving anything away to state that it plays an interesting role--especially with the unique camera angles. A couple of the action scenes are very well staged, too: specifically when Hawke has to creatively take out two intruders in his billiard room. Instead of relying on shaky cam (like so many other action thrillers), the violence is clean and concise.
      There's no doubt that DeMonaco put in an admirable effort. There is a major problem though: his script gives us so many things to think about--the fact that The Purge may be the Government's way of ridding the country of the homeless and less fortunate, the notion that different races are more targeted, the fact that top-level government officials are safe from the violence--that when the film turns into a typical home invasion thriller, it's hard not to feel let down by its semi-wasted potential. The Purge could have been an epic sci-fi film with big ideas that was smart and exciting. Instead, it's just a decent action thriller about the steps you take to protect your family and your home.     (B-)

HBO's "Too Gay for Movie Studios" Behind the Candelabra

     Last year, director Steven Soderbergh announced his retirement from feature films (at least for the time being): 2013 would screen his last two movies. In February, we saw the pretty good Side Effects, with its creepy undertones and one-too-many twists that undermined it from being a truly great film. Just a few days ago, people filled into the theater...wait a minute, I mean sat on their couches to witness the last film direction that the intriguing director would ever do (supposedly). That's right: the prolific and interesting director's last effort would air on HBO instead of the local cinema. For us--the audience--it worked out great: the intimate story played out beautifully on our high definition LCD screens, wrapped up in the comfort and the quiet of our own homes. But one must feel bad for the actors--because Michael Douglas (as Liberace) and Matt Damon (as his much younger lover Scott Thorson) give two of the best performances in film so far this year, both of which clearly would have been nominated for Oscars. Any film: not just movies made for television.
     Studios are surely regretting the decision now, since the film has scored some big ratings (especially for Memorial Day weekend). Soderbergh tried to get financing for the film, shopping it around to all of the major movie studios. Essentially--according to the director himself--they didn't want to take a risk financing a movie about Liberace and his young gay lover. It's surprising: the subject and performances are ripe Oscar bait, and there isn't any graphic anal sex--just simulated without really showing that much.
     You'd also think that film focuses more on Liberace, but the story follows Scott Thorson particularly (makes sense, since the film is sort-of based upon Thorson's memoir, titled Behind the Candelabra: My Life with Liberace).Though it's a bit one-sided in Thorson's favor, Behind the Candelabra simply boils down to a love story: an arc that deals with all of the highs and lows of relationships, two partners with huge age differences, and the notion that money and celebrity--with all of its glamorous material objects--can buy love. It's all pretty standard, but the two main performances elevate it to slightly above average. Thorson was an orphan, in and out of foster homes, and when he goes to a Liberace performance with a friend, they end up backstage. When the two main stars lock eyes, it's clear the sparks fly: Thorson is transfixed by Liberace's eccentric skill at music and working a room, and Liberace almost licks his lips at the young and virginal beefcake that stands before him.
     Liberace becomes a father figure for Thorson, and a lot of weird dynamics start appearing between the two. Lib "hires" Thorson to be his right hand man: being his chauffeur, his buffer to the fans and press, that type of thing. Maybe they start falling in love. Or maybe Thorson is brainwashed by the glitz of Liberace's lifestyle and decides that living in a mansion with unlimited money ain't such a bad deal. As their relationship progresses, problems start arising. Lib is obsessed with himself, and he tries to control Thorson's every move. He even hires a plastic surgeon (played hilariously by Rob Lowe) to make Scott look more like himself. it's all narcissistic and gross. Their relationship as lovers merges into other less healthy notions: a father/son and employer/employee dynamic. The rise and fall of their time together is the basis for the film's story.

     Michael Douglas plays Liberace as a man who is constantly concerned with the way he is portrayed--during his charismatic performances and even at home in his personal time. In his obsession with looking and feeling younger, he hits on (or preys on) younger, more attractive men that make him feel like a man decades his junior. But--like a bloodsucker--once he changes his mind about his partner (for instance they annoy him, or try and become more independent instead of being like his little lap dogs), he has no trouble or emotion changing his boy-toy for the new and latest (younger and more hard-bodied) version. He's great in this. But Damon is even better: showing that he can be one of the greatest actors of his generation, his transformation into Scott Thorson, a young and shy "bisexual" who turns into an emotional man with many complexities, is extremely entertaining to watch. He causes you to feel...not just watch.
      As Soderbergh's last movie, it's a worthy addition to his filmography. But it doesn't make any grand statements that will cause it to become a classic that people will remember when they think of his directing efforts. Sure, the whole thing looks great: he captures the glitz and glamour that Liberace personified in the 1970's and 1980's, and instead of overpowering the scenes with flashy direction, he lets the actors act, usually in intimate settings. And that's precisely where Behind the Candelabra shines: the moments when Lib and Scott are all alone, either at the beginning of their relationship, when there was a nervous tension and excitement that shows on Damon's face, or during the downfall, when every argument and betrayal cuts as deep as a plastic surgeon's knife.     (B)

   
   
   

Boldly Going Where Its Gone Before, J. J. Abrams' Second Trek Voyage Still Surprises

     Some people--most of whom stay loyal (to this day) to the original Trek universe with William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy--weren't that happy when Star Trek, the sort-of reboot of the aging franchise, was released into theaters in 2009. J. J. Abrams, they thought, didn't understand what made the old Trek films so great: this new film was stylistic with shiny images but ultimately lacked any substance or social commentary. But I tend to disagree--2009's Trek ranked among my top five films of that year. Abrams--like he hopefully does with the Star Wars franchise now that he has taken the reins--shot a full dose of adrenaline into the tired franchise, bringing in new actors and an exciting eye for sci-fi action set pieces.
       After the events of the first film, which used an interesting time travel device to sort of form an alternate Trek universe where anything could happen, curiosity peaked: could Abrams' second Star Trek directing effort confirm his status as the savior to the long-running franchise that last landed dead on arrival in 2002's Star Trek: Nemesis. The short answer is yes: Star Trek into Darkness is an incredibly entertaining entry into the plethora of Trek films, a wonderful summer blockbuster that left me completely enthralled during most of its run time. It's packed full with exciting action and ideas that parallel Earth's problems in decently interesting fashion. It's also as good or better than the last Abrams journey with Kirk and Spock.
     Star Trek into Darkness is incredibly exciting from the opening musical theme to the end credits, and it's best to know as little as possible before entering the movie theater. So let's keep this simple: After breaking some Federation rules to save Spock (Zachary Quinto, who has never been better and provides the character with a wonderful amount of humor and depth), Kirk (Chris Pine, who is Shatner-like but still makes the character his cocky own) loses his job as the Captain of the Enterprise. So much of this film is about the relationship of these two characters, and they seem much more comfortable this time around: their scenes together are filled with intensity or humor, depending on the situation. Quinto especially takes a step forward. Brimming with confidence, his Spock is a character that uses his human and Vulcan roots to his advantage in any situation.
     It's not spoiling anything to say that--obviously--the crew gets back together when a force threatens to decimate the federation and potentially start a war with the powerful Klingons. Everyone's back and better than ever: playing Uhura, Zoe Saldana plays a more prominent role, bringing out the more human aspects of her lover Spock when he forgets to think about the other people who care deeply about him. The great Simon Pegg is back as Scotty, and (as always) he provides much of the humor in the film--and he also gets to run around and kick-ass much more on this go round. Anton Yelchin and John Cho (as Chekov and Sulu, respectively) take more of a backseat this time, but they still make the most out of their minimal roles. Karl Urban's Dr. Bones still provides some needed sarcasm and humor, especially his interactions with the new sexy crew member portrayed by Alice Eve.

     Sure, the Enterprise crew is great and they fit together nicely. But the real surprise of Star Trek into Darkness is a character by the name of John Harrison, played by the up-and-coming great character actor Benedict Cumberbatch. His role is a mystery for much of this Trek voyage. Is he a terrorist? Is he a traitor? Whether he's either or both, Cumberbatch forms a villain that is unique while also providing a wink of the eye to the lore of the Trek world. Part of his arc reminded me of Loki in The Avengers: this is a powerful being whose motives are unclear, yet trusting him is a decision that must be made no matter how insane that decision seems.
     There's real tension in this Trek. Forget about the action for a second, which is wonderful in its own right (the phaser battle in Klingon territory, the space jump from one ship to another, and an epic showdown between Spock and Harrison come to mind). Many of the personal vendettas and relationships jump to the forefront: Kirk spars with just about anyone, but especially people of ultimate authority. This time it's Starfleet Admiral Alexander Marcus (portrayed with zeal by Peter Weller, the titular character of the original Robocop films), who has motives of his own that pertain to the fate of the U.S.S. Enterprise. Kirk and Spark are always sparring, but this time their arguments hold meaning that extend beyond life and death situations. And Harrison holds a long back story that involves the history of the Federation and its unusual leanings toward military missions instead of space exploration.
       There is one major thing that Star Trek into Darkness does that extends beyond the strengths of this film: it shows that J. J. Abrams has the strength and fortitude to turn around the Star Wars universe, too. His ability to stage exciting sci-fi battles, his eye for creating humorous situations while avoiding corniness, and his willingness to acknowledge the happenings of previous incarnations in the franchise while still keeping his own entries fresh are things to be completely admired. Sure, some of Star Trek into Darkness feels familiar (a bit of it feels too similar to 2009's version). But the familiarity doesn't detract from the epic-ness of the scale, excitement, and wonder that Abrams provides with nearly every aim of the camera.     (A-)

A Written Word Review: NOS4A2

     Joseph Hillstrom King has written three novels: Heart-Shaped Box, Horns (which is being adapted into a film starring Daniel Radcliffe), and this month's NOS4A2, along with a very popular comic series called Locke & Key. He is also Stephen King's son. Obviously, writing stories in the horror universe being of the same blood as the grand-master has its ups and downs--it's probably pretty easy to get published, but it's extremely difficult to be taken seriously on merit alone. But Joe doesn't have that problem: under the pen name of "Joe Hill", the son of Stephen King (he actually has another son, Owen King, who has a critically-acclaimed first novel titled Double Feature out this month, too) had people fooled for almost a decade, crafting great supernatural stories that ranked among the best of new writers.
     NOS4A2 is a beast--a hungry beast at nearly 700 pages that will annihilate minutes off the clock and the skin off of the tip your thumb from turning pages. It's that good: seemingly taking to task the reputation of his father's work head on (instead of shying away from it), Hill has crafted one of the most entertaining and gulp-inducing books so far this year, and it's not only his best novel, but as good as the early Stephen King works (though I'm hesitant to compare, because it only fuels the fire of arguing that Joe Hill is only popular due to his dad).
     NOS4A2 is about a bad man with a bad car. Charlie Manx is an old geezer who has a scary streak and a penchant for taking children for a ride: he doesn't just drive them down the road and molest them, though. He takes them--driving his 1938 Rolls Royce (the licence plate is the title of the book, and is also a vampire reference, to state the completely obvious)--to a place called Christmasland, where every single day is Christmas--presents get opened, rides are ridden, beautiful snow falls.  But Chuck's car doesn't run on gasoline: it runs on the souls of the children he steals, slowly taking away from them any semblance of humanity or empathy that ever existed in them.
      Christmasland exists as an "Inscape", which is a place somewhere between reality and thought. Only certain people can reach these "Inscapes"...similiar to the gift young boy Danny has in Joe's dad's The Shining. Victoria McQueen (also known as "Vic", or "The Brat") is a woman who is really great at finding stuff: as a child, she would ride her bicycle to the dilapidated covered wooden bridge in her small town. Only when she crosses it, she can seemingly teleport (for lack of a better word) to places in the world where she needs to find something specific--a lost bracelet, other people who know about "Inscapes", etc. As a child she has a run in with Charlie Manx. I won't delve deeper, but the novel takes place across decades and involves Vic as an adult, when a new bike and a new problem come crashing into Vic's life.
     If it sounds corny, it's only because the book is so hard to explain. Unlike his more supernatural and surreal last book, Horns (which I loved), NOS4A2 is more straight-up horror. One character in particular, a man-child who comes under Manx's spell and takes people to his "House of Sleep" by the name of Bing, is very well-characterized. He's the type of dude who keeps women chained in the basement and no one on his street knows any different. But Manx is the true villain here: a man who is so nice and open, but one who would do anything to suck the life out of the nearest child with his metaphorical sharp teeth.
     Above all, though, NOS4A2 is about relationships: mother and child, father and child, father-figure and child. The lengths that parents go to to protect their children. How a child's thoughts of their parents keep them from succumbing to powerful forces. Joe Hill has made a statement with his third novel: if you're looking for the next big name in good horror fiction, since Stephen King is getting up there in age and output, look no further than the spawn of Stephen King.
   
   

Iron Man 3: Tony Stark's Swan Song?

     After the original Iron Man (which paved the way for the beloved Marvel comic book heroes to experience new and exciting directions) and Iron Man 2 (which--though still plenty entertaining--was a slight step backwards in the series), the mega-million-dollar franchise decided to take a chance with some fresh blood. So Jon Favreau, the director of the first two films, left. Maybe after making the weak Cowboys and Aliens the studios figured they would go in a different direction? Whatever the reason, it was a good decision: enlisting Shane Black, who rose to immense fame in the late 1980's writing Lethal Weapon (and subsequently other high-action films with sharp scripts), to write and direct, Iron Man 3 is an interesting and highly entertaining entry into the comic book film canon, a superhero film with actual tension--and although it's a bit scattershot at times, it's an admirable end to Downey Jr's trilogy as Iron Man, if they don't convince him to make another for tens of millions of dollars.
      At this point, Robert Downey Jr. portrays the character of Tony Stark as easily as the character Tony Stark slips into his Iron Man suit as he gears up to destroy Earth's newest threat--and with Shane Black's script that is so quick with the one-liners and sarcastic quips, the lively laughs fly by faster than Stark's new version of the Iron Man suit that shoots at him piece by piece like he is actually Magneto of X-Men fame. And that's how this Iron Man film starts, with Stark tampering with some new upgrades to his suit. It also ties into The Avengers in important and intriguing ways: ever since he almost died during those events with the alien invasion, Stark has started to notice anxiety creeping into his life, occasionally becoming so severe that he becomes almost completely incapacitated for a moment of time.
     But this wouldn't be a very interesting Iron Man film if the biggest threat to Tony Stark was shortness of breath and thoughts of impending doom. Ben Kingsley portrays The Mandarin, a terrorist that bears a resemblance to Osama Bin Laden but speaks like southern "baptist preacher". You'd never guess that it was the same Ben Kingsley that was so ferocious in Sexy Beast: his vocal inflections are humorous and curious here, and though his role is extremely peculiar in Iron Man 3, he is still a highlight in his limited time. It seems like he is control of a bunch of minions that hold some sort of special power, a regeneration ability that is as far-fetched as it is dangerous. This isn't a comic book film more rooted in reality ala Nolan's Batman trilogy (though its nearly as serious and exciting at points): The Mandarin's henchmen glow red like Hellboy and one shoots fire out of his mouth like a dragon in Game of Thrones.

     And Guy Pearce makes just about any film better: here he portrays Aldrich Killian, a once-geek-now-slick scientist who has a major interest in all of the cronies that are "infected" with the fiery skin. Pearce is a total scumbag in Iron Man 3, and he performs his snake-like maneuvers with a winning smile and violent temper. Him and Downey Jr have some great scenes together, helped along again by Black's script which made Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (his first directing effort) so watchable.
     And some of the action scenes are truly phenomenal,  better than most anything (except the climax) that was in The Avengers. To prove to The Mandarin that he isn't scared of him one little bit, Stark airs his home address over television screens, the Iron Man way of saying "Come at me, bro!". And come at him The Mandarin does, in an exciting and impressive scene that involves the destruction of Stark's billion dollar compound. Another great scene: air pressure is lost in a plane, an explosion happens, and people start getting sucked out of the side of the plane like pneumatic tubes,  flying through the blue sky. Sure, it's been done before--Iron Man zooming through the sky, saving falling people. But never to this extent...and never this well done and realistic. And the climax is impressive: Black clearly has a knack for staging long action sequences that have ebbs and flows and different characters performing different feats of excitement. In fact, he would would be a great choice for The Avengers sequel, if Joss Whedon wasn't creating it.
     Like any third act in a franchise, it's very hard for the characters and situations to feel original and innovative. Black manages to here, but he also throws so many ideas at us with breakneck speed that sometimes Iron Man 3 feels like a gigantic entertaining jumble of un-fleshed out plot points and situations. Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow, whose work with a personal trainer clearly paid off) plays a more significant role this time around, and for once Tony Stark gets thrown into situations where he is truly powerless. It's a film that feels like a good ending point for Downey Jr's trilogy of Iron Man films: and much of the success of all three movies lies directly in his hands, his quick trigger with the witty screenplays, his ability to portray the charming cockiness of Tony Stark. Between The Avengers and now Iron Man 3, Marvel now holds the top two opening grossing weekend records of all time--and it's well-deserved.     (B+)