Nightcrawler: Crawling Under Your Skin

     Five years ago, if you heard Jake Gyllenhaal's name, you'd either think about his then-risky portrayal of gay cowboy Jack Twist in Brokeback Mountain or his role as the freaky titular character in the teenage cult classic Donnie Darko. Like many actors, he was slowly gaining popularity and also had roles in some less-then-stellar efforts. But starting in 2011 with the slick sci-flick Source Code, Gyllenhaal has redefined his career and turned in some incredibly nuanced and haunting performances: his LAPD cop in End of Watch, his double-identity confused state in Enemy, and--most notably--his awesome turn as Detective Loki in last year's debatable best film, Prisoners. He continues his streak of impressive performances with Nightcrawler, a creepy and tension-packed film that is merely okay if not for Gyllenhall: but because of him it's almost great.
     Gyllenhaal portrays Lou Bloom, a scumbag sociopath weirdo who is trying to find a job. He doesn't have a set or morals or an ethical code, so when he witnesses the aftermath of a violent car wreck on an overpass and sees an independent camera crew filming the carnage to sell to the morning news, he comes up with the idea to start his own business. He buys a camera and a police scanner, and he methodically learns every police code for the city so he can zoom to dangerous crime scenes. Lou doesn't care about human beings or acting like a functioning citizen, so he gets good camera shots and fakes interviews. The morning news channel, led by Nina (Rene Russo: where has she been?), loves his footage and his go-get nature, and they start paying him more and more. And when sweeps week comes, they want more dramatic footage, and Lou isn't too concerned about how he is going to get it.
     Things escalate quickly in the second half of the film. I won't give away too much--but Lou isn't the type of person who abides by a few feet of yellow police tape that say "Do not Proceed." He hires an assistant, a down-on-his-luck dude who works for less than minimum wage and is frightened of Lou's personality, and they traverse the city searching for the most violent, shocking and exciting images to film. And like the images that Lou films, we--the viewer--keep diving down into depths of tension and excitement, wonder if Lou's downfall will ever come. Gyllenhall is not a likable person as Lou, but in the context of watching Nightcrawler, he's an extremely likable character for the viewer because he's so damn weird and interesting and will do anything for a better camera angle and more news recognition.
     Nightcrawler surely touches on the 24 hour news cycle and it's portents of immense fear: they pay far more for footage of violent crimes that take place in the white and wealthy neighborhoods. A carjacking in "the hood" doesn't equal ratings--a murder in a mansion does. This also ties into the exploitation of crime and victims in a world only looking for the next image to shock. But these metaphors aren't what sticks with you for the next couple days after Nightcrawler: it's Gyllenhaal as Lou, his gaunt features behind the hand-held camera, filming a bloody mess until he moves onto the next.     (B+)

Quick Looks:

Horns

     I'm a huge fan of Joe Hill's novels: Stephen King's talented son has written three of them, two of which have produced that same wonder and horror that we've all experienced in older King novels like The Shining. Horns is a tough film to sell to audiences, though: it's about a young guy, Ig, who may or may not have raped and murdered his girlfriend. One morning, he wakes up after a heavy night of drinking and Devil horns are growing out of his forehead, and everyone in his presence begins telling him and acting on their deepest and darkest thoughts and feelings. The tone in the book flashes between horror, humor and fantasy with incredible expertise, but the film doesn't fair quite as well. It's not real fault of anyone: Daniel Radcliffe, portraying another character who has an abnormal bond with snakes, actually does a wonderful job of shedding the Harry Potter skin, conveying anger and hopelessness with a touching fervor. Director Alexandre Aja (whose previous work consisted of the oogle-naked-booby mess that was Piranha 3D) actually portrays some stylish scenes, but they are mixed in with work that seems pretty amateur. When reading the novel, getting sucked into Horns' world of gritty humor and shocking surprises takes no effort at all. But the film leaves you wanting more, and it strikes an uneven tone between amusing, weird, and unintentionally comical.     (B-)

The Purge: Anarchy

     Last year's The Purge had a really intriguing concept: all crime (basically) is legal for 24 hours once a year--essentially purging the country of its over-population problem. And I actually thought the film--anchored by Ethan Hawke's performance--was entertaining enough. But one criticism was that the film's sights were set in too small of an area--one neighborhood street, and specifically one house where a group of freaky teenage bad guys are trying to break in. The Purge: Anarchy attempts the first film's formula, except aiming a little higher: this purge takes place in the numerous streets, blocks and alleyways of an entire populated city. It also deals much more with the socio-economic reasons for the purge, but let's face it: these films are all about tension and violence. Frank Grillo (as Leo) stands out here as the man-of-few words, a sort-of hero on a mysterious mission who periodically resorts to being a badass, mowing down sickos with style and manliness. The Purge: Anarchy is an attempt at saying something worthwhile about the government, the homeless, and crime in America. But since it has nothing specific to say, the viewer just waits for the next set-up for a cool kill.     (C+)

Obvious Child

     Obvious Child is about Donna, a woman who has had a really shitty go of life for the past few weeks: her boyfriend has cheated on her and left her, the bookstore where she works is being sold, and she's sunken into a bit of a depression. Donna is portrayed by former Saturday Night Live cast member Jenny Slate, and she rides the line between being very funny and almost annoying. Luckily the funny far outweighs the annoying: Donna is a comedian and it's clear to see how her self-deprecating ways have led her down this path in life. Then one random drunken night, she meets Max, a cute and nice student who takes a liking to her vulgarity. They have a one night stand and...I won't spoil the rest. Obvious Child was a huge hit at the film festival circuit earlier this year, and the praise is well-deserved: this "romantic comedy" is witty and deals with life issues that should be more in the open rather than shunned and hidden. It's one of the funnier films I've seen this year.     (B+)

John Wick

     John Wick succeeds by keeping it simple, stupid. Every year produces films based on exacting revenge on those who have wronged you, usually because they hurt someone or some thing that you have loved. Just a few weeks ago, Denzel Washington snapped because a hooker with a heart of gold got beaten bloody, taking out hordes of foreign gangsters with guns and power tools. This past week, we had a Keanu Reeves come-back of sorts, as he stars in John Wick, which is surprising in it's simple effectiveness. Rather than attempt to blow the viewer away with massive explosions and action set pieces, Wick impresses with it's claustrophobic gun-play and martial arts fights that are violent and intense. The plot is intentionally a bit of a joke: John's wife dies of Cancer. Bad Dudes break into John's house and do some bad stuff. John breaks out of "retirement" to kill those who have wronged him. Keanu is great in the titular role: when there's barely a back story and plot, we can focus on the cool factor and impressive stunt work that Keanu performs. First time director Chad Stahelski (Reeves' former stunt double) is precise and stylistic in the choreography and cinematography--it's an impressive debut. I did grow tired of John Wick by the end credits, which isn't a great sign since it has short run time. But Wick is still an action journey well-worth taking, and showcases a comeback for fans of Reeves.     (B)

He Said / She Said in Gone Girl

     When it was announced that David Fincher  would be directing Gone Girl, based upon the runaway bestseller full of killer plot twists, super-fast pacing, and a far-fetched story, it seemingly was a match made in cinema paradise: the book's acerbic take on marriage and the occasional flashes of brutal violence begged to be filmed by a director like Fincher whose skills as a filmmaker rely on cool style and an amazing visual eye. And Gone Girl--as a whole--is a success: it's entertaining and at nearly two-and-a-half hours, it never drags even as the plot twists edge closer and closer to ridiculousness. However, I will say that I was hoping for a little bit more. David Fincher has created some modern masterpieces in his career: Seven, Fight Club, even The Social Network. With Gone Girl we just get a good movie--one that is completely self-aware and strikes a peculiar tone between being sarcastic and scary.
     Gone Girl tells the story of a dream (or nightmare) marriage between Nick and Amy Dunne. It's as simple as this: one day, Nick comes home and the living room looks like a crime scene--the coffee table is broken, a ottoman is flipped over, there are spots of blood in the kitchen. But there's no sign of Amy. Nick calls the police (naturally) and so begins the investigation that makes up the entirety of Gone Girl. The film is told through two distinct lenses: the present day one, focusing on Nick and the investigation and corresponding search, and the past one: flashbacks from Amy's written diary, which depicts a far-less-than-perfect marriage as the years went by. It's impossible to know who to trust since we're seeing two differing stories of the relationship, and that's the best part (and the point) of Gone Girl. And in an era of deceit and 24-news coverage of crimes, opinions and allegiances are played like a game of chess.
    The plot twists in Gone Girl hit a bit harder if you've never read the novel, and it's definitely not essential to have read the source material to enjoy this adaptation. It's probably better if you haven't read Gillian Flynn's phenomenon. Once the film gets going, Nick becomes a suspect--too many things are "off", and he has such a weird attitude toward possibly losing his wife. Part of the fun is deciding whether it's just the way he acts or if he's a sociopath. He has plenty of secrets of his own--but so does Amy: she disappeared on their wedding anniversary, and she has left behind a treasure hunt of sorts complete with written clues that may lead the investigators to the actual truth of what happened between this couple.

     Ben Affleck always gets criticized as an actor--many people wish he would stick to directing (which he is great at). But I actually like Affleck as an actor, and this is a great role for him. Some of his detriments--his smugness, his inability to show a wide range of emotions--are actually total positives in Gone Girl: it jives perfectly with his personality, and he also has plenty of experience with a relationship in real life (with Jennifer Lopez) that was covered 24 hours a day by the media. Rosamund Pike gives the film's best performance: her Amy is mysterious and beautiful and cunning, and her performance is fearless in its depiction of a woman thrown deep into dangerous situations. Carrie Coon, as Nick's sister Margot, injects the film with emotion and humor: she's essential in having us relate to Nick, even if it's only a little bit. And even Tyler Perry shows up, which makes Gone Girl a success in itself: it's the first film that Perry stars in that doesn't totally suck.
    Gone Girl is far from perfect. My main complaint deals with the film's tone: Flynn adapted the script from her own novel, and it's actually a bit overwritten. There's too much dialogue, too many attempts at humor (and the film is funny at times, but I just didn't think it corresponded well with the seriousness of domestic violence and murder), too much focus on the pretty obvious satire of The Media, particularly the Nancy Grace-esque character that the film's main stars are constantly watching. And it's views on marriage are a little concerning if you're not the most cynical person in the world. If it wasn't for Fincher's skill at moving things along at a flashy and brisk pace, Gone Girl could have been the equivalent of US magazine: a sleazy, guilty-pleasure waste of time. Instead, it's something a bit more: a not-quite-trash not-quite-treasure entertaining story of one insane marriage.      (B)

Quick Looks:

The Drop

     The Drop, also known as the great James Gandolfini's last film, is a crime drama ripped from the pages of a Dennis Lehane work (his 2009 short story "Animal Rescue"), and it seethes with grimy backstreet Brooklyn drama about the Mob, seedy bars, and the characters that inhabit those drinking establishments. You can almost smell the smoke and stale beer. It's about a secretive and (seemingly) slow bartender (the always incredible Tom Hardy, who is completely transfixing here), Bob, who works hard for his boss (Gandolfini, showing angry regret) and one day finds a beaten-bloody pit bull puppy in the trash can of a woman's house that he walks past after work every night. Gandolfini runs a bar that is a "drop" for the Chechen mob, a dangerous group that takes power tools to their opposition. Bob begins a friendship with Nadia (Noomi Rapace), the homeowner where the dog was found: but nothing is what it seems. Connections are everywhere in The Drop, and the little pit bull sets off a chain reaction of events culminating in one of the biggest "drop" nights of the year: Super Bowl Sunday. The Drop is a slow build in the best sense possible, a film that actually satisfies in the final 15 minutes instead of leaving the viewer disappointed. Gandolfini still brings plenty of that Tony Soprano intensity--it's sad knowing that we won't see him ever again. But Hardy is the true wonder here. Is he too smart for his own good? Or too dumb to care? The Drop will leave you cheering for Bob, even if you're not quite sure who or what he is.      (B+)

The Equalizer 

     This is revenge wish fulfillment, an incredibly violent exercise in pain and torture that's bloody and graphic. Like with Denzel's Man on Fire, there are flashes of great style (this time by Training Day director Antoine Fuqua) and moments of stereotype. The Equalizer is also corny as can be. Maybe that can be attributed to the fact that the film is based up a 1980's television show of the same name: but some of the dialogue is just atrocious. However, none of these reasons stopped me from being completely entertained with The Equalizer, and that's mainly due to Denzel Washington's kick-ass performance as Bob. Him and Liam Neeson have perfected the art of middle age revenge. This is the type of film where you want Bob to slaughter every villain in his path, because, darn it, that's what he was born to do. Bob works at a Lowes-esque home improvement store, dealing out little nuggets of wisdom like a mom-jeans-wearing Confucius. He winks at the ladies, jokes with the younger crowd, and even helps train his fat co-worker who is trying to become a security guard. He also can't sleep at night, plagued by thoughts of a former life. When he befriends a young prostitute (played by Kick-Ass's Chloe Grace Moretz) and she gets beaten bloody by her pimp, Bob decides to use the skills he learned in a former life to take down an over-the-top world-spanning operation of Russian thugs. There's not much humor here: irony need not apply. If you enjoy watching Denzel creatively dispatch groups of bad guys (with a cool climax inside of the Home Depot), your ticket won't be wasted. If it's research for your screenplay, don't bother.     (B-)

Frank

     I had extremely high hopes for Frank in the first 10-15 minutes before the title card flashed across the screen. It was funny and unique watching Jon (Domhnall Gleeson), a bored office worker, attempt to write catchy and profound songs in his head throughout the day. One day, Jon luckily gets the opportunity to play keyboard for a band in town (whose last keyboardist had a mental breakdown), called Soronprfbs, led by an eccentric man named Frank (Michael Fassbender) who wears a paper-mache head over his own like an Arcade Fire roadie. Most of the film follows the band (which Jon becomes a part of) as they stay at a wooded retreat, recording their next record. No doubt Fassbender is incredibly interesting as the mentally unstable Frank, and Gleeson shows a wide range of emotions. But the film didn't stick for me. It takes short looks at unusual creative processes and the effects of fame relating to mental illness, but it doesn't spend enough time with either to become something truly profound. Frank is also about being an outsider in a world of 24/7 technology, but I was left feeling like an outsider myself, drowning in all of the film's eccentricities.      (C+)

Growing Up in Boyhood

     Boyhood is a successful experiment in film making, but it's an experiment that left me thinking it was an impressive attempt rather than an incredibly entertaining time at the movies. It was shot over 12 years (each year the cast and crew would gather for a couple weeks to shoot new material) and focuses on a boy growing into a man, particularly all of the trials and tribulations of young adulthood: cute girls, alcoholic parental figures, and a questioning of what life even means. It's contemplative and mixed with scenes of nervous tension, humor and slow-build meditation. It's currently (by far) the best reviewed film of the year, but Boyhood didn't affect me the way I had hoped. It's good but overlong and not surprising enough.
       Director Richard Linklater has performed a similar experiment before with the "Before" series (Before Sunrise, Before Sunset, and Before Midnight), a wonderful trilogy shot once every 10ish years with the same actors dealing with their serendipitous relationship over that time period. To me, that story was more successful. Boyhood is about Mason, a young Texas child with a loving, trying-hard mom who has bad choices when picking men. Mason and his sister's biological dad (who is back in the area after abondoneing the family a couple years ago) is also back in the picture, and he's played with a mild charm by Ethan Hawke, buying them gifts and winking at the kids when he pisses off their mom (his ex-wife). The movie jumps ahead in time fairly often (you can usually tell because Mason's hairstyle is different), showcasing the progression of the characters through their lives. And like any of our lives, there are times of excitement and times of boredom--or in the case of the revolving door of alcoholic father figures, times of tension and terror.
     Like a Malick film, there are moments in Boyhood of complete beauty and profound realizations about the human condition. But with a run time of nearly three hours (and who can blame the film's crew: this was quite a committed undertaking), there are too many minutes between each one. It's no fault of new actor Ellar Coltrane: his performance is just as impressive as watching him go from boy to a man in front of our eyes on the cinema screen. It's not hard to watch Boyhood and have some of the scenes relate to your own life, regardless of the upbringing you've had.
     Life is made up of mundane moments, and Boyhood contains plenty of them. That's not exactly the problem. The issue is that the character of Mason barely registers major live events, or they aren't shown in the film at all. Death and love and and sex and sadness define each and every human, but we barely get any of that with Mason. Mason's mom (Patricia Arquette) chooses terrible husbands, but these scary experiences don't really seem to define Mason in any lasting way (or maybe they will in the life Mason leads after the credits role, but that doesn't help us during the movie's run time). I'm sure they would have affected me. Boyhood is incredibly well-meaning, a really cool experiment in film making, but it falls short of being a truly great film.     (B)

Guardians of the Galaxy: Marvel's Risk Paying Off

     You have to give Marvel credit: though one could claim that their plan for cinematic domination is all about the money (since they release numerous films with advertising tie-ins every year), they continue to produce great products--entertaining blockbusters that have as much heart as fun factor. Earlier this year, Captain America: The Winter Soldier showcased a more realistic version of a Marvel story with hand-to-hand combat and a plot that played with present-day tensions. Guardians is on the opposite end of the spectrum, a universe-spanning good vs. evil story full of aliens and magical devices and an array of unique creatures. It's much more Star Wars then The Avengers. But that's not a problem: Guardians of the Galaxy is a fun and amusing time, a much more lighthearted and goofy Marvel film containing extremely likable performances from just about everyone involved.
     Guardians is a fairly unknown story to those outside of the comic book stores (myself included), but Marvel and director James Gunn create an instantly likable world. It feels like you've known these characters for years, and you root for them with as much passion as you would Iron Man or Thor. Our Guardians are a rag tag group of characters that come together (through their own reasons and motivations) to stop a ferocious villain, Ronan (Lee Pace), who has gotten his hands on a world-destroying orb and has a big-ass war hammer. Peter Quill aka Star Lord (a funny and lovable Chris Pratt) is our main hero, hunting for rare space booty like a futuristic Indiana Jones. Because of certain events, he's paired with the green-skinned Gamora (Zoe Saldana), a Raccoon and Tree duo named Rocket and Groot (the voices of Bradley Cooper and Vin Diesel), and a muscled freak named Drax (portrayed by WWE wrestler Dave Bautista). The humor and interplay between the un-trusting character is the key to Guardians' success. Bautista, in particular, shines, switching between violence and humor like a pro.
     Like many of these comic-book films, the plot deals primarily with the recovery of a world-destroying device containing a God-like power that every single character wants for different reasons (money, power, etc.) There are a couple dozen bit players (most notably Michael Rooker, who portrays Yondu Udonta, a blue bandit with a fun and dangerous weapon), and since the plot jumps around different alien cultures and worlds, it may seem like you could get confused. But if you focus on the fun, Guardians of the Galaxy becomes quite lovable, like a mischievous puppy that's cute and fun but occasionally does something to annoy you.

     Guardians packs hundreds of jokes and winks at the audience into its 2-hour runtime, and like most humor geared towards a large audience, some of it is amusing and some of it is expected and predictable. I found Rocket to be be the least charming of our main five characters, and not because of Bradley Cooper's voicework: because of the script. I know Rocket is supposed to be obnoxious and sarcastic, but he went a little too far to be fully enjoyable for me. Luckily, Chris Pratt and Dave Bautista show a great comedic chemistry. Many people know that Pratt is good with humor (with his stints on Parks and Rec and a few films), but Bautista is the big surprise. Sure, the WWE is essentially acting: but Bautista is such a natural that you could see him becoming the next Rock, starring in franchises of his own.
     I went to Guardians of the Galaxy at the midnight showing on Thursday (which actually played at 7:15pm). It wasn't the best decision: the crowd contained a couple of guys (probably die-hard fans of the comics) that laughed loudly and uproariously at every single joke or half joke in the entire film. Sometimes you couldn't even hear the next line. This was extremely aggravating. So it's a testament to Guardians of the Galaxy that I still found it a funny and entertaining time. It's enough of a hit to be the start of another worthwhile franchise, and I think the second film--building on the humor-filled space opera of the first film--could reach another level of greatness in a Galaxy far, far away.     (B+)

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes: That Rare Sequel

     I can't say that I was ever too interested in the older Apes films, though they clearly hold a special place in many moviegoer's hearts. So I was very surprised when back in 2011 I found the reboot of the franchise--Rise of the Planet of the Apes, starring James Franco no less--a perfectly enjoyable summer diversion with a great motion-capture performance by Andy Serkis, the king of creature acting. Dawn of the Planet of the Apes takes place 10 years after the events of the first film, where the Simian Flu has devastated the world and the super-smart apes reign over the woods without a sign of a human for multiple years. It's a rare sequel that surpasses the already-good original, a fitting mid-summer movie with action, intensity, heart and emotion. And yet again, it showcases Andy Serkis and his unbelievable ability to breathe realistic life into a computer-generated creature.
     News reports at the beginning of the film show that the world is now a post-apocalyptic landscape. The Apes that Dawn focuses on live in the steep woods outside the crumbling city of San Francisco, where throughout the years following the human collapse their leader, Caesar (Serkis), has taught the rest of the apes to flourish. They can communicate through hand signals (and in the rare instance, speaking actual English). They haven't seen humans for years, and the majority think that it's for the best: since some of the apes had been experimented on (essentially tortured) in the first film, the distrust they feel is warranted. The new little prospering world that they have created is thrown into disarray when a few gun-equipped humans show up, looking to restore a dam to bring back some of the city's electricity.
     One of the main problems with Dawn of the Planet of the Apes (also a bigger problem of Godzilla earlier this year) is the human characters. Gary Oldman portrays a sort-of military leader of the humans--it's safe to say that he's not keen on the apes controlling the land that the dam sits on. Keri Russell (damn good in FX's The Americans recently) pops up as the sympathizing significant other of Jason Clarke, who--like James Franco in the first film--realizes the potential and love that the apes can bring to Earth. But nobody impresses. The apes--led by Andy Serkis--portray far more emotion than their human counterparts. And when an ape deception occurs, you feel it as hard as any other human drama.

   Dawn of the Planet of the Apes is a summer blockbuster where you would just assume not have any fighting or destruction. Can't they all just get along? That's a testament to the awesome computer-generated apes and the stellar direction by Matt Reeves. With Cloverfield and Let Me In, he's been a director to showcase a signature style: but in Dawn he's truly come into his own, creating a sequel that's better in every way than it's predecessor. The mixture of action, emotion, tension and drama is an impressive balancing act, and it catapults the film far higher than most of this year's sad display of cinema.
      Like my the last film I reviewed, Snowpiercer, Dawn delves into social ideas about discrimination, equality, and deception. This time it's just humans vs. apes rather than humans vs. humans. But Dawn is good enough even if you're just there for the action. Sure, the image is (kinda) laughable of an ape duel-wielding machine guns riding a horse into battle. But with the tension-filled buildup, it's hard to not be excited by it. And Reeves stages some great scenes that have you picking sides, rooting for who you think is right. If you've been a bit bummed by this year's film entertainment, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes is a good remedy: an ape evolution that's thoughtful and thrilling.     (B+)

Snowpiercer: A Smart and Strange Summer Train Ride

     Snowpiercer is one of those rare summer spectacles: a film that is unique and original, a risky proposition among a sea of stinky sequels and safe bets. Making his English-language debut, director Bong Joon-ho (who has impressed me before with monster-movie mayhem in The Host) skillfully crafts a weird thrill ride about rocket-fast train and class warfare, and it contains some of the better action scenes this side of The Raid 2. It has echoes of some recent Hollywood blockbusters (like The Hunger Games or Elysium), but it's fully its own creature--a strange beast with a mixture of themes and cultures that completely stands out among American cinema's recent cardboard cut-out clones.
     An experiment to end global warming has caused an ice age that almost has wiped out the entirety of Earth's population. The only survivors make it onto a train that flies along a global railway system powered by a mysterious man and his perpetual motion machine. The basics: the rich live in luxury at the front of the train, the poor people in the rear. Guards periodically arrive in the back of the train, giving our dirty downtrodden disgusting protein blocks (they look like old cranberry sauce) and occasionally taking children for unknown reasons. At the tip of the train, a mysterious man named Wilford resides, and his rule is law.
     Everything is not swell, and a rebellion is brewing: led by our humble hero Curtis (Chris Evans, better known as Captain America), the less-fortunate come up with a plan to bust through the guards and gates to overtake the train. To do so, they need the help of an engineer, Namgoong Minsu (Song Kang-ho) who spends all of his time sniffing a mind-altering drug called Kronol, and his maybe-psychic daughter Yona. With their help, they attempt to move through the seemingly-mile-long train car by car. This is one of those films that mixes humor and shock and violence with a surreal skill. You just can't wait to see what is behind the next door, and it's always surprising.

     There is some awesome action in Snowpiercer, violent hand-to-hand combat with sharp weapons that is directed with noticeable excitement by Bong Joon-ho. There are plenty of villainous characters, but the most memorable is Tilda Swinton, with her fake teeth and sheer disregard of anyone who is against the man behind the curtain, Wilford. I feel like I now measure all film and television action with The Raid 2, which completely blew me away earlier this year. And Snowpiercer never reaches the tension that The Raid 2 managed. But it didn't need to: the sheer strangeness and fun that Snowpiercer provides more than makes up for it.
     The film doesn't reach for perfection; consequently, it's not perfect: the political messages in Snowpiercer are just a backdrop for the action-adventure story and the excitement to see what weird thing is contained in the next car. And some of the special effects (mostly the outside views of the train barreling through snowdrifts and tunnels) are far from stellar. I also didn't love the ending. But these thing's don't take the enjoyment away from the weird ride. If Snowpiercer teaches us one thing, it's that we need more foreign and unique ideas thrown into American cinema. Ten years from now, I want to be watching more films like this one--not Transformers 8: Transforming Yet Again.     (A-)

Hitting the Reset Button with Edge of Tomorrow

     It's time to give Tom Cruise a break: ever since the infamous dance on Oprah's couch, viewers have dismissed his work. But he's actually produced a few really entertaining movies--Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol and last year's sci-fi pic Oblivion to name two--in the past four years. This week's Edge of Tomorrow is a yet another showcase of entertainment in a science fiction setting. Tom Cruise's image died in the media's eyes (with his strange antics and batshit-insane Scientology beliefs) years ago, so it's fitting that in Edge of Tomorrow he dies over and over and over again, occasionally in comic fashion for our pleasure. It might not be a total career rebirth, but it's another step in the right direction for a guy who was once America's biggest movie star.
     It's impossible to write or speak about Edge of Tomorrow without mentioning the obvious connections to Bill Murray's comedy classic Groundhog Day (and to a lesser extent, 2011's underrated Source Code). But Edge of Tomorrow never suffers from the similarities--if anything it thrives with them. The film begins in typical apocalyptic movie fashion: images of destruction and war and an unknown alien force flash across news screens, as Cruise's character (Maj. William Cage) spins a PR campaign with every reporter and newscaster for a pro-military intervention against the unknown force. Cage's biggest character flaw (and one of his biggest fears) is being involved in actual combat. So when a cocky general (portrayed by the great Brendan Gleeson) forces him to go to the front lines, Cage resists, is tasered, and wakes up in handcuffs at a military base near where a D-Day-style beach storming is about to happen the next day.
      Cage gets thrown into battle, a chaotic storm of bullets, mech suits, bombs and lightning-fast slithering aliens called Mimics, only to die quickly, covered in an exploded Mimic's blood. But then he wakes up, handcuffed again, at the military base the day before. He meets the same people, gets harassed by the same Sergeant (a having-fun Bill Paxton), and gets thrown into the same group of soldiers. Only to go back into battle and die again. Wake up, die. Learn a little more. Wake up. Die. Learn a little more. Repeat. On the battlefield he meets Rita (Emily Blunt as a kick-ass heroine), the public face of the assault on the aliens, who seems to know what is happening to Cage. She tells Cruise to come find her when he wakes up, and this interaction sets in motion the majority of the mind-bending film.

     Edge of Tomorrow is skillfully directed by Doug Liman (probably best known for The Bourne Identity and Mr. and Mrs. Smith), and he barely lets you catch your breath as Cage and Rita try and figure out a way to take out the frightening aliens. Like many battles against extraterrestrials, there is something of a "hive queen" (to quote directly from Ender's Game) that controls the entire horde through a complex system of brainwaves/telepathy/etc. Cage (who, because he was doused in the blood of a Mimic, has certain special powers) and Rita must find the brain of the operation and take it down before the large number of Alien minions threatens the entire human race--starting with the beach invasion that always ends in a massacre now matter how many times Cage lives and dies. The action and special effects in Edge of Tomorrow are top notch, and Cruise--with his determination--and Blunt--with her fortitude at showing emotion while destroying alien scum--propel the film past watchable into something much better.
     Sure, in a film where the main character has to live the same day over and over again (maybe for thousands and thousands of times--you never really find out) there are going to be plot holes and derivative scenes that seem too familiar. Even the title sucks: Edge of Tomorrow. It was originally titled All You Need is Kill, the same name of the Japanese graphic novel which it is based. But who cares? This is an original film (not a sequel or reboot) that is imaginative and exciting in a sea of films which are the opposite of that. And by the looks of the blockbusters coming out in the next three months, it might be one of the best of the summer.     (B+)

Go Back to the Future in X-Men: Days of Future Past

      Time travel can be a slippery slope in modern film entertainment: for every great usage of it (like in the low-budget Primer or the stylistic Looper), viewers then get a couple duds that are filled with WTF moments that can leave you scratching your head. So I can see why you would be skeptical of the new X-Men film, Days of Future Past (the title itself is kind of stupidly confusing)--Travelling back in time to re-shape the future is a major plot point. But somehow, it totally works. By bringing back Bryan Singer, who created the first two (good) X-Men films, and sending the fan favorite Wolverine back in time to a story involving the younger versions of characters that we met in X-Men: First Class, Days of Future Past is top-tier summer entertainment: incredibly fun, exciting, and full of wonderful acting, especially for a comic-book film.
     The plot of Days of Future Past is seemingly intricate, with dozens of characters from multiple time periods intersecting and having their paths shaped by the events of the past and the future. But credit goes to a tight script and Singer's direction: everything is laid out in a natural and exciting way, and confusion never sets in. Though the ending is a bit predictable, the film is no less satisfying because of it. Here are the basics: in the future, mutants and humans who like mutants are segregated into work camps, slaves to the machine. These big and bad robot mofos that can adapt and use any mutant's ability (called Sentinels) are crushing the last of the mutants to bits, hunting them out like predators. A small band of mutants is surviving due to an important ability: projecting a person's consciousness back in time to warn them of incoming danger. This small band eventually meets up with our known heroes, namely Xavier, Magneto and Wolverine, and they all team up, deciding to send Wolverine's consciousness back to 1973 when an incredibly fateful moment for mutant plight occurred.
       This incredibly fateful moment deals with the blue, shape-shifting Mystique (America's girl, J-Law) assassinating the future creator of the Sentinels, Dr. Boliver Trask (Game of Thrones' Peter Dinklage). She gets captured, and the Bad Guys use her mutant DNA to make the Sentinels incredibly powerful. Wolverine goes back to stop Mystique from this fateful decision that changes the course of history. But first, he must enlist the help of the younger Xavier and Magneto (James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender) who instead of being friends, like in the future, are mortal enemies after the events of First Class. There's a line in the previously mentioned Looper that deals with the complexity of explaining time travel: "We'd be here all day making diagrams with straws." The beauty of X:Men: Days of Future Past is that it doesn't need any explanation. It moves forward and backward in time with an organic symmetry full of fun scenes.

     There wasn't a moment in Days of Future Past that lacked entertainment. Many scenes leave you incredibly excited: the opening of a dystopian future and the ensuing mutant vs Sentinel battle that sets the film's tone extremely early. The breakout of Magneto from a maximum security cell underneath the Pentagon (Quicksilver [Evan Peters] is the star here, as he moves much faster than a speeding bullet). The assassination attempt on Dr. Trask. Though Matthew Vaughn did a good job with the sort-of-reboot of the X-Men universe with First Class, it's nice to have Singer back in the director's chair (though his real-life controversy isn't clearly isn't good) . His love of the characters and source material is obvious, his set-up of key scenes admirable. And when your comic-book film is filled with great actors (Fassbender, Jackman, McAvoy, Dinklage, Lawrence, among others) who are adept at showing every emotion, it just adds to the overall experience.
     X-Men: Days of Future Past makes some other recent comic-based films look like total child's play (e.g. The newest Spiderman). It balances over a dozen characters, and though some mutants get significantly more screen time than others, you still feel as though you spent your movie money wisely. The villains, if you could even call them that term, have motivations that contain a complexity far more real than the typical world domination. And though the plot was sometimes a bit predictable, the fun-factor exceeds any specifics or questionable plot points of the time-travel story. It's super superhero summer entertainment.     (A-)

Godzilla: A "Meh" Monster Movie

     I didn't expect to enjoy last year's Pacific Rim: I can't say that big-budget monster movies are especially my thing--giant creatures smashing each other in the full glory of CGI hasn't been enough to make a movie great since I was 10 or 12 years old. But Rim was a great surprise. Director Guillermo Del Toro injected enough excitement and humor into the picture to make it one of last year's more entertaining films, full of vibrant color and creature fights with actual tension. So it only makes sense to compare this year's big Monster event, a re-imagining of Godzilla, with Del Toro's clearly-made-with-love movie that is still fresh in some movie goers' minds. It doesn't really compare: the 2014 version of Godzilla focuses far too much on uninteresting and uninspired human characters, has a tendency to cut the camera away when something cool is about to happen, and contains massive monster battles that simply lack excitement. It arrives with a yawn rather than a roar.
     Obviously the quality is far superior than in the 1998 embarrassment directed by disaster-porn master Roland Emmerich, but that isn't saying much--not many films are considered worse. At least in this one we get former Walter White Bryan Cranston (who portrays Joe Brody) as a nuclear power-plant operator in Japan who loses his wife in a freak accident. 15 years later, he's gone a little bit wacko in his conspiracy theories and his son (Kick-Ass's Aaron Taylor-Johnson) must travel back to bail him out. Things don't go as planned, and Joe Brody begins to look like he's the only one who knows what he is talking about.
     The human aspects of Godzilla suck. There's nothing new or original, nothing with enough emotion for you to care, and no characters that make you pine for their plight. You might say: "Who cares about the humans? The movie's called Godzilla. We're here for the Monster fights." That's all fine and damn dandy, but in the two-hour run time of Godzilla, there is precious little destruction other than the climax, except for the occasional shot that cuts far too quickly back to humans running around in disarray. Maybe the film-maker is building anticipation for the finale, which admittedly is cool (a group of soldiers jumping from 30,000 feet to deal with a nuclear device in the middle of a destructive monster battle). But it's too little, too late.

     Speaking of the film-maker, director Gareth Edwards (who previously only directed 2010's Monsters [a fitting title]) clearly has a knack for dealing with special effects on a massive scale. The obliteration of San Francisco is impressive and realistic enough. The titular creature is almost a good guy, going against two massive Alien-esque monsters that feed off of radiation sources and then mate to make massive amounts of world-destroying atrocities. I just wish--by these late minutes in the film--that I cared more about the fate of humanity at this point rather than itching for it to be over, complete with the only two love interests reuniting in the demolished city, the music sweeping in stereotypical fashion.
     Godzilla isn't a bad film. But it isn't good, either. Both this year's Noah and Captain America: The Winter Soldier were far better displays of making entertainment with dozens (if not hundreds) of millions of dollars injected into the their respective budgets. Above all, 2014's Godzilla just isn't fun. There weren't enough moments that brought a smile to face or butterflies into my belly (or any at all, really). It's typical movie-studio summer weekend placement: a massive and intriguing marketing campaign that leads to a movie that's all safe with no lasting stimulation.     (C)

Spinning a Web of Confusion with The Amazing Spider-Man 2

       If you weren't tired of the character Spider-Man after the atrocious third installment of the Tobey Maguire trilogy, surely you must be close now. We're already on the second movie of the reboot series with director Marc Webb and star Andrew Garfield (who is 30 years old), and though the first film had a few fresh approaches, The Amazing Spider-Man 2 suffers from that notorious illness that many other comic-book sequels have experienced: too many villains, too many plot lines, too much annoyance. Sure, it has awe-inspiring visual effects and CGI. And some of the smaller moments between Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy (Emma Stone) inject some needed sweetness and chemistry (probably because they're a couple in real life). But these moments are not enough to overcome the murky plots and the (seemingly) dozens of villains.
     The film starts with an exciting and tense flashback plane sequence where Peter's parents are flying out of town with secret and important information. Much of The Amazing Spider-Man 2 is downhill from there. Spidey still patrols the city, taking down bad guys (the first being a way-too-over-the-top Paul Giamatti). Unfortunately, it seems like he's also a failed stand-up comedian, spouting out extremely unfunny one-liners before shooting people with his white sticky stuff. Him and Gwen are now officially a couple, but if you remember the first film (which you probably don't), her dad's (Denis Leary) dying wish was for Peter to stay the hell away from Gwen--to protect her by leaving her. Peter thinks about this a lot, and he even sees visions of Leary all over town giving him threatening glances.
      But the real threat lies with a few different aspects of the Oscorp company: Peter's childhood friend, Harry, has taken over the corporation after the passing of his dear old dad, but he's inherited the same disease that could lead to his demise too. He thinks a dose of Spidey's blood could cure him, and he'll do anything to try and get it. There has also been a major accident at Oscorp: an under-appreciated employee named Max Dillon (Jaime Foxx) has fallen into a tank of experimental electric eels, becoming a powerful villain named Electro who can harness the power of the entire city's electrical grid. Our red and blue hero has a lot in his web. Too much, and the film suffers because of it.

     The Amazing Spider-Man 2 has absolutely incredible special effects. The dazzling colors and action flash across the screen like a theme park ride. But top-notch CGI just simply isn't enough anymore. If this film had been released 10 years ago, you'd hear non-stop praise about it. But since Hollywood effortlessly puts out visual splendor (usually bypassing a cohesive and exciting story) on a weekly basis--especially during the summer movie season which this film signals the start of--it has become less of an event and more the norm. The visuals that a big-budget blockbuster provide just aren't enough (except for last year's Gravity) anymore.
      This Spider-Man is also too long. It's one of those films with a few false endings, and by the time it's actually over, you wish it had been over 15 minutes ago. If The Amazing Spider-Man 2 is any indication, this summer is going to be full of unoriginal blockbusters that look like a million bucks but feel like only a dollar or two. And in a couple of years, when The Amazing Spider-Man 3 is announced, I'll meet that news not with a smile but with a shrug of the shoulders.     (C)

The Raid 2 Radiates Excitement

     As I mentioned in my last review of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, one film has soured the taste of nearly all modern American action films: The Raid: Redemption. Its incredibly brutal and realistic hand-to-hand combat and blood-squirting violent gun and knife play has propelled the film into cult hit status, satiating the dying hunger of action fans who are tired of confusing quick-cut fight scenes and over-the-top characters and corny gore. The story of Rama and his floor-by-floor fight to the top of a crime and thug-ridden apartment complex was all set up for bone-crushing punches and kicks. But there wasn't too much of a story: it was a 100 minute adrenaline pill. The sequel, The Raid 2 (sometimes shown with the subtitle, Berandal), fixes that issue. Continuing the story of Rama (Iko Uwais, a man you just have to root for) after he escapes death at the apartments, The Raid 2 is a much bigger story with complex relationships. There is downtime between the action this time around (other than the last hour), but it allows for even more building of intensity. If the first Raid is a small watercolor painting of pain, The Raid 2 is the Sistine Chapel: big (2 and a half hours), beautiful, and utterly breathtaking, especially when the action kicks in.
     The Raid 2 is one of those rare films, a sequel that is masterful at exploring the themes of the first while exceeding every expectation along the way. Rama is back, and he has to go deep undercover and get involved with a dangerous mob, gaining trust with the leadership to gain vital information about crooked cops. The Raid: Redemption was confined and claustrophobic--all of the action took place in one building, and only in the beginning and at the end did the film leave the confines of four walls and a ceiling. But the sequel takes the story in some fresh directions (even a masterful car chase battle) with numerous memorable locales. The film gets room to breathe, though much of it will leave viewers breathless.
     Some two hours have passed since the end of the first film, and Rama becomes convinced to get thrown in prison to buddy up with a son, Uco (a charming Arifin Putra), of a powerful crime lord. When Rama proves his worthiness during a muddy prison riot, Uco gives him a job working for the family once Rama gets released. The story is pretty intricate--you will read a lot, unlike the sparse dialogue in the first Raid--and all characters and crime factions have different motivations. The main tension deals with three groups: Uco's local family, a rival Japanese gang, and Bejo (Alex Abbad) and his cronies, a rising group of gangsters that threatens the power struggle between the two violent families. The story is stellar and serves the action well, but let's be honest: that's not what we're here for.

     Much of the first half of the film deals with Rama's slow rise from the henchman in Uco's family. The action and tension is there: but it comes in short frenetic bursts that spike your heart rate in a teasing fashion, cutting you off at peak moments of excitement. During this first half, you might find yourself itching for a little more fighting, a little more payoff for the growing story. But just wait: The Raid 2's slow build eventually reaches its threshold of pressure and it explodes into a frenzy of some of the best action in film since...well, ever really. The characters are memorable, funny, and scary: a fan-favorite machete-wielder from the first Raid who has become long-haired and homeless, a deaf woman whose skill with a pair of sharp hammers puts Kill Bill's The Bride to shame, a dangerous thug who bashes skulls in with an aluminum baseball bat (and sometimes a baseball, too)--these fights reach a crescendo of action poetry that is unrivaled in modern fight films.
     And the credit really goes to director (and writer) Gareth Evans, a Welshman who become fascinated with film making and the Indonesian martial art called pencak silat which is prominent in his films. With The Raid 2, Evans has propelled himself to the forefront of action directors working today. His ability to make you feel like you're in the middle of the fight--with the innovative camera angles, jarring direction changes, and brutal efficiency--rather than just watching a fight is incredible. No American film will match the excitement of the last hour of The Raid 2 this year. It's essential viewing for any un-squeamish movie fan: a choreographed master-class in excess and excitement.     (A)

Captain America: A Tale of Two Soldiers

     Of all of the Marvel films that star one of the Avengers individually, Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) was my least favorite. There was nothing particularly bad about it: some of the pulpy story and action was enjoyable enough. But it had nothing memorable--no classic lines or brilliant action set pieces--to grasp onto. Since then, namely with The Avengers and Iron Man 3, the comic company has perfected the art of must-see superhero entertainment, stories filled with humor, tension and action scenes that showcase their 100+ million dollar budgets. So now we ride along to the second film in the Captain America series, The Winter Soldier. It's a solid--if unremarkable--spring movie. Showcasing a story where our hero Steve Rogers's foe is more of a corporation than a specific villain, The Winter Soldier is a more thoughtful Marvel film with notions of politics and surveillance. It's Captain America finding his way through modern America.
     In a world where it's nearly impossible to determine who to trust, Captain America must navigate the throes of S.H.I.E.L.D. itself, as always led by Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson). At the beginning of the film, Nick sends our Captain, a group of soldiers, and Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) on a mission to a submarine that has been taken over by pirates--not Somalian like in the other Captain movie, Phillips, but Algerian terrorists. It showcases some of the fast-paced, more intimate fighting that Captain America performs. The Widow downloads some secret information, they save the hostages, and they head back home. Soon after, Fury himself gets attacked (seemingly because of the information of the zip drive that's now in his possession) while driving, and it becomes clear that a nameless force with infinite henchmen and government resources is trying to become a superpower, wiping out targets across America.
     This paranoia--that same worry that some Americans feel in this present day of Drone strikes and traffic light cameras--is present throughout Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Much of the film is spent with Captain America and Black Widow on the run (along with a new bird-like friend, portrayed by Anthony Mackie) , enemies of the state and of S.H.I.E.L.D. itself. If it feels familiar, that's because this notion has been explored before (and more skillfully) in Christopher Nolan's The Dark Knight. It's almost impossible to not see the similarities though, and it makes The Winter Soldier feel much more real than its WWII-set predecessor.

     These individual Avenger films follow a pretty specific formula--it's rare that we feel true danger for these characters, so there needs to be other entertaining aspects from them to stand out. Other than the focus on a political story, in Captain America: The Winter Soldier, the uniqueness comes in two new characters and the intense hand-to-hand fight scenes. It's interesting to see Robert Redford in a superhero film--the man doesn't appear on screen very often, so it's intriguing watching him portray Alexander Pierce, a higher-up in S.H.I.E.L.D. who clearly has motives of his own. He's a nice presence in the political intrigue. The Winter Soldier in the title is a villain who's as powerful as Captain America, and maybe they even have a connecting thread. He's a good antagonist: violent and ruthless. And when the two soldiers are pitted against each other, it makes for great superhero fight scenes.
     We all know that Marvel films can showcase some of the best action set pieces in the universe of big-budget film making. And though Captain America: The Winter Soldier contains large-scale Avengers-esque battles and explosions, it's the smaller fight scenes that are the real star of the action--the battles that are fought on the ground rather than in the air. Not too many American films can convey excitement when it comes to hand-to-hand combat, not after films like The Raid: Redemption that show you how realistic movie fighting can look, but The Winter Soldier performs admirably: they don't leave you breathless, but they seem much more brutal and real than the cartoony (but still fun) action in the Iron Man films.
      Chris Evans portrays Captain America as a man who is vulnerable--maybe not vulnerable to fists or bullets (he's quite capable of handling those), but to finding his place in a modern world that he still doesn't quite understand. It's a naivety that is charming, like the first few scenes in Thor after Chris Hemsworth crashes onto Earth. It's funny (enough) and likable. A few scenes drag in The Winter Soldier, and it could have been more concise, cutting a few of the plot points that lower your adrenaline too far. But the film is a thoughtful spring superhero film that is well-worth watching once: completely respectable and an above-average entry into the Marvel canon.     (B)

A Customer Complaint at The Grand Budapest Hotel

     It's become a bit of a cliche for Wes Anderson films. A reviewer will see his latest (undeniably pretty to look at) creation and state: "It surely won't change your opinion about Wes Anderson and all of his eccentricities!" Yes, I think we all know at this point: you either "get" Anderson and his never-fail Doll-House style film making, or you don't. To me, he's always been a bit hit or miss. For every Rushmore--a coming-of-age full of hilarious sarcasm--there's a Darjeeling Limited--a film that combined all of Anderson's quirks in the worst possizzzzzzzzzzzz...sorry, I fell asleep just thinking about it. And that's the thing about Wes Anderson: his films inspire wonderful praise or intense hatred depending on who you talk to. The Grand Budapest Hotel, his new one, has all the makings of classic Anderson: a great cast, a luscious and exotic setting, and stellar reviews. But nothing sticks. Peering into the past for a story (mainly) about the bond between a talented hotel concierge and his lobby boy, Budapest doesn't have characters as much as thinly-drawn caricatures. It's a Hotel that left me feeling vacant.
     Anderson's latest doohickey of a film is a story within a story within a story, a sort of Russian nesting doll that takes place over 3 different time periods, though one (the period starting in the year 1932, the beginning of the end of the hotel's glory days) is significantly more prominent (and also shown in a different aspect ratio, making it feel older). The main story revolves around Gustave (Ralph Fiennes, who performs admirably enough), the Hotel's concierge who sees to the "needs" of the older women clientele who frequent the establishment. He befriends a new Lobby Boy, Zero (Tony Revolori [as a kid] and F. Murray Abraham [as an adult]), and when one of his most-loved older women dies, Gustave and Zero try to outmaneuver her family dealing with the inheritance, mainly a painting titled Boy with Apple that's basically priceless. They decide to make off with the painting rather than wait for the legal proceedings.
     They meet a wide assortment of characters during their caper journey, the most entertaining being Harvey Keitel as a fellow prisoner once Gustave gets tossed behind bars. Adrien Brody pops up as the deceased Madam's son, Dmitri. Needless to say he's not happy with Gustave showing up to take a portion of his inheritance, so he sends a henchman, J. G. Jopling (Willem Dafoe, who doesn't so much as act as sneer and growl), to pursue the pair. The story then unravels through Anderson's detailed imagination jumping from location to location, the history of the coming war in the background.

     Many other actors--like flocking birds--appear throughout The Grand Budapest Hotel: Bill Murray, Owen Wilson, Edward Norton, and the always-present-for-Anderson Jason Schwartzman. But rather than showing up to become fully (or even partially) fleshed-out characters, their purpose more-often-than not seems to be a wink at the audience. Oh, look who just popped onto the screen, Bill Murray, haha! Like in The Darjeeling Limited (Anderson's worst film), Budapest tries to be funny and clever but it rarely makes you laugh. It's full of emotional themes that could easily have some resonance but end up getting sucked below the eccentricity.
     I did enjoy Fiennes as Gustave (at least in the first half of the film), and since he's the main star, he gets most of the screen time, allowing us to relate a little bit more than the other actors who are playing dress-up. But his shtick, full of the colorful and quirky language (this time with a 1930's flair) that Anderson is well-known for, still grows tiresome by the time the credits roll. The good Anderson films contain funny characters and idiosyncratic dialogue too: but they allow allow their characters to live and breath. There are moments of silence...moments of thoughtful emotional plangency. The Grand Budapest Hotel barely has any--it's plot point after plot point, location to different situations. Nobody grows. There's just a lot of narration. And when the climax travels back to the start of it all, the lobby (more incredible set design) of the Grand Hotel, I was too busy checking out of my room to care.    (C)

The Passion of Noah

     Adapting Biblical stories is a slippery slope. The director or screenwriter is bound to piss somebody off: either the story stays too close to the source material (annoying non-believers) or strays too far away from it (drawing the ire of believers). The story of Noah and his Ark was bound to take certain liberties with the original story, since there isn't nearly enough material to keep viewers gripped for two hours and twenty minutes (the run time of this film). There is one reason that I was intrigued with this adaptation of the story: director Darren Aronofsky. And like all of his previous films, Noah has moments of tension, of fascination, of awe-inspiring visuals. And if you take it as a fantasy epic--part disaster film, part family saga, part cautionary tale (of climate change, of religious fundamentalism)--rather than a "true" story, you're bound to leave the theater completely satisfied. It's the best adult film so far of 2014 (though that's not saying much).
       Noah is quite a jump for Darren Aronofsky, but he makes the leap to big-budget spectacle successfully, maintaining plenty of the indie quirks and excitement that he has showcased throughout his career, namely in the haunting Requiem for a Dream, The Wrestler, and Black Swan. Aronofsky is a self-described Atheist, and ultimately that helps Noah become more than just a straight adaptation of a Biblical passage. An expensive movie about Noah's Ark starring big-name actors is going to have plenty of Wow! moments with computer generated animals and rushing/roaring water that blasts out of the theater speakers better than a Roland Emmerich film. He even inserts battles that fit more into Crowe's Gladiator than a story about a man possessed with an idea. But it's the smaller moments that truly give you goosebumps: Aronofsky's quick-cut directing (reminiscent of the drug use scenes in Requiem), the scenes with Noah, his family, and his descent into madness, like an ancient Glenn Beck who thinks he's acting out the word of God.
     Russell Crowe portrays Noah, and it's his best role in years, a return to form after films like Broken City, State of Play, and Body of Lies (let's be honest--he wasn't a stellar singer in 2012's Les Miserables). From the first moment we see him, when he's teaching his sons about not soiling God's creation (a thinly-veiled metaphor about environmental preservation that pops up now and then like flowers from the soil), it's easy to see that he's a good man. He loves his family: his wife, Naameh (Jennifer Connelly, arresting as always), his sons Shem, Ham, and Japheth (Douglas Booth, Logan Lerman, and Leo McHugh Carroll), and Ila (Emma Watson), an injured girl they take in.

     What really sets Noah in motion is a vision that the titular character gets in the throes of a dream (showcased with typical Aronofsky flourish): a violent flood, corpses of people and animals in the water, a great wooden structure above that's bathed in light, a signal of safety. This prophecy begins the change in Noah's arc (his character, not the boat): he becomes obsessed with this vision, traveling towards a mountain where his grandfather, Methuselah (a charming Anthony Hopkins), resides. It's here that Noah meets the Watchers, massive CGI stone creatures (who are also fallen angels) that decide to help him with the mission at hand. Some might find these rocky beings corny or far too fantastical--but I thought they added to the spectacle.
     Though Noah has incredible willpower and the brute strength of the enormous living rocks, building the Ark isn't an easy task. Planting a seed from the original Garden of Eden (given to him by his grandfather), a massive forest intersected with streams is created, providing the supplies needed to build a damn big boat. Animals begin flocking to the area, a horde of many species walking (or slithering) in line to enter the Ark. But this draws the attention of other people too: namely Tubal-Cain (an entertaining-as-always Ray Winstone), who believes that the will of Man is bigger than an empty vision by a creator. And Tubal has a nothing-to-lose army--when the rain starts falling, thousands swarm (outfitted with jagged weapons) to jump aboard, battling with Noah, his family, and the powerful boulder-creatures in an action set-piece that's slathered in blood-and-rain-soaked excitement.
      And yet again, we go back to the smaller moments, the ideas that make Noah a really solid film. Crowe's growing tyranny grows to epic proportions, and it's haunting to watch a man (willing to go way too far) come unglued due to a vision that he's not positive he even interpreted correctly. Just like when reading a religious text, thoughts, visions, dreams, and ideas can turn into fundamentalist views that put mankind (and even more shocking, Noah's own family) at great risk. The climate change metaphor is there too: you can choose to bury your head in the sand (like a Fox News anchor) if you want to ignore it. But the true parable of Aronofsky's Noah, an adaptation of a Biblical story, is just how violently far people can go in the name of their unproven God.     (B+)

300: Rise of the 6-Pack Abs

     I never got on the 300 train the first time around when the original blasted its way into theaters almost eight years ago in all of its brawny, bloody glory. Sure, it was a spectacle: but one can only put up with so much stylistic slo-mo before they get burnt out like a spent light bulb, sizzling away with a lack of substance. So I was a skeptic when the news of a parallel sorta-sequel was coming out. The trailers didn't do much for me (they looked like much more of the same). But--surprisingly--300: Rise of an Empire left me feeling (basically) entertained. Focusing more on naval battles between a new hero and a sexy and treacherous villain (portrayed with fervor by former Bond Girl Eva Green), the new 300 is a serviceable entry of super violence, sex and style that barely lets up steam during its short 100 minute run time.
     That's not to say that 300: Rise of an Empire is a great film or anything (not even close)--but in the doldrums of winter, you could do far worse than watching attractive and fit people creatively slaughter each other on various epic 3-D battlegrounds. And the 3-D is actually good too, worth the price of admission even, the blades and blood slicing across the screen seemingly right in front of your very eyes. It has its typical problems during the darker battle scenes, muddying the image and making it harder to decipher what exactly is going on. But the pros of its 3-D presentation outweigh the cons.
     Gerard Butler made his name with the original 300, and ever since his career trajectory has basically been on a downward spiral (except for maybe last year's fun Die Hard-in-the-White-House film Olympus Has Fallen). He's not in Rise of an Empire; we get a new hero, Themistokles (Sullivan Stapleton), and though he doesn't share quite the same alpha-male machismo as Butler, he does a serviceable job as a man who needs to inspire confidence in his troops when they are severely outnumbered at sea. Themistokles (told through a flashback scene), killed the father of God King Xerxes (Rodrigo Santoro), who was in the first film, and now Xerxes needs to avenge the death of his dear old dad. He's got a secret weapon: the cunning and deadly Artemisia (Eva Green), who leads the Persian forces in the high-stakes sea battles against the Themistokles-led Greeks.

     She's the best part of this new incarnation in the 300 universe (I'm sure with their success that we'll see more in the future), eating every scene she's in with a fiery fierceness. In one scene, she decapitates an enemy and proceeds to tenderly kiss the bleeding head. In another, she is the focus of a violent sex scene that gives new meaning to the term "lover's quarrel". Sorry for the spoilers, but you're either going to see this movie or not--it probably won't take my convincing. Without her, the film would lack a necessary womanly touch that balances the brawn of the men. She's the funniest and most entertaining aspect. All of her antics lead up to a large-scale finale that is okay but doesn't leave you breathless. But really, who cares about any of the story here--no professor will show this in any History 101 classes.
      We're here to escape the real world for an hour and a half. Maybe it's because nothing of note has gotten a wide release so far this year, but while watching 300: Rise of an Empire, time flew by, blood squirted like it came out of a Super-Soaker's barrel, and limbs were hacked off to fly in every direction. I realize that may not be your cup of tea. But my cup was filled just enough to be considered worthwhile.     (B-)