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+)

Oblivion: A Spring Sci-Fi Surprise

     At first, Oblivion--the second film directed by Joseph Kosinski after 2010's beautiful but shallow sequel to Tron--seems like it's a paint-by-numbers collage of all the major sci-fi ideas of the past few decades. It's a giant, simmering stew of the major tropes from The Matrix, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Dark City, Moon (I could go on and on). But as the film progressed, that feeling of familiarity started to become innocuous. The script's nothing special (to be kind) either--its stuffed full with stereotypes and plot questions that plague the science fiction genre. But that detriment started to not matter as well. It's due to a few reasons: Tom Cruise's solid performance as Jack Harper, which ranks among his best in recent years, M83's driving and thumping score that helps keep every major scene exciting, and Joseph Kosinski's incredible use of realistic CGI and ability to stage action scenes that completely help serve the story instead of being the main draw of the film (ala any Transformers turd).
      The beginning is the weakest part of Oblivion, but luckily the opening voice over doesn't continue into the main meat of the film. The year is 2077. Sixty years ago, the earth was ravaged and the moon destroyed and chaos with a group of beings called "Scavs" (I thought it was "Scabs" until reading about the film after the fact) has left the Earth in an uninhabitable nuclear wasteland. Cruise's Jack Harper is a technician, one of the few humans tasked with working on the barren Earth. The rest of the human population have migrated to giant space station called the "Tet" and are working their way to colonizing Saturn's moon, Titan.
      Harper and his work partner/lover Victoria (Andrea Riseborough) live in a glass station above the clouds, and every morning they check in with Sally (Melissa Leo, speaking in a stereotypical southern delivery), the mission control supervisor on the Tet, and Cruise jets down to Earth's surface, seemingly as routine as clocking in at the mill. He quickly moves around and repairs the drones that monitor the area, circular balls armed with powerful machine guns that shoot any creature that comes close to the "resource extraction machines", these massive triangular buildings that suck up the remainders of Earth's seawater for certain minerals and valuable substances. Back at the sleek, future IKEA-furnished glass tower, Victoria communicates back to the Tet about how well the mission is going.
    When watching the trailer for Oblivion, it seemingly depicts too much of the story, showing Cruise getting captured and tied up in front of a scuzzy Morgan Freeman. But luckily it's a bit misleading: Oblivion holds plenty of surprises, and although none of them are particularly original to the science fiction genre, they still pack an enthralling punch in the film. When taking the engineer job, much of Jack's memory had to be erased, so when certain places or feelings start to become familiar, Harper has some serious deja vu that starts impeding on his ability to perform his job at an "effective" level. I will say that one actor's presence put a smile to my face, just because it's nice for him to gain some notoriety: Game Of Thrones' Jaime Lannister himself (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau). But Cruise is a tough actor to judge: he's become such a star, such an entity above himself, that it's amazingly difficult to see him as a character in a specific movie instead of "Tom Cruise", one of the most famous actors of all time. But he performs admirably here. Though his story is familiar, Cruise portrays Harper with enough wonder and excitement to feel for Jack Reac...I mean Harper.
     Two other important things: Oblivion looks and sounds wonderful. Kosinski's Tron: Legacy didn't really hold my attention, but that was due more to a story that I couldn't have cared less about than Kosinski's direction. In fact, it was impressive: his ability to insert visual effects into the story fares much better than many modern directors. It helps having an Oscar-winning cinematographer in Claudio Miranda (whose shots in last year's gorgeous Life of Pi were breathtaking) for this film. Every action scene is clear, concise and completely hold your attention. M83--a musical artist that I've never been too interested in--also provides a pulsing score that takes some of the best aspects of other pivotal composers (much like Oblivion takes from important sci-fi allegories) and mashes them into an ear-titillating sci-fi-actioneer soundtrack.
     Yeah, it's a lot of praise. But let's not get too ahead of ourselves. The detriments of Oblivion do detract from the experience, but not enough to keep you from liking it. The story (and specifically the script)--as stated previously--doesn't contain much in the way or originality or ingenuity. Some of the dialogue is laughable (specifically one situation, where Cruise remembers the last Super Bowl with a fake, cheering crowd) and I could have done without the voice-overs. But the spectacle and excitement of the film is surprising. Earth as a wasteland has been done before, and it will be done more this summer in the not-so-good-looking After Earth (starring Will Smith and his son) and the incredibly-good-looking Elysium (starring Matt Damon). But Oblivion stands tall in its own right, with stellar visuals and plenty of exciting situations that plant you on the edge of your seat.     (B+)

A Tale of Three Movies: The Place Beyond the Pines

     I was loving The Place Beyond the Pines (the second major film directed by Derek Cianfrance, after 2010's awesomely depressing Blue Valentine)...until I was worried it was going to suck. But then it didn't: it slowly built up steam anew, and I was really liking it again...until another event happens that made me think the rest of the movie would suck. But again: it didn't. The Place Beyond the Pines is an epic and awesome and fault-filled film that is bursting with ebbs and flows and frustrating changes of pace. It's a film that spans almost two decades, two different families, and two men who may have more similarities than either would admit. Sometimes the film feels like it's grasping at straws, trying to make connections where none need to be: but can you fault over-ambition--with all of its annoyances--when some of the performances are this good and the film's style is so full of tension?
     The Place Beyond the Pines is a movie told in three distinct acts, and that's what makes it so peculiar. Not that I'll spoil anything major, because it's best to go into this sprawling film with no idea of the plot or situations. We first meet Luke (Ryan Gosling) in a tracking shot as he walks to perform one of his death-defying motorcycle stunts. Covered in tattoos and showing his typical intense stare, one might think that this is Drive 2.0, with Gosling playing a man of few words but capable of ferocious violence. Pines is more complex than that, though. Luke strikes up a one-night-stand with Romina (Eva Mendes), and when his traveling carnival comes back into town a year later, he learns that he has an infant son. So he quits his job and becomes friends with Robin (Ben Mendelsohn, who was so great in last year's Killing Them Softly), a local mechanic who convinces Luke that a good way to provide for his new family would be to rob local banks, skillfully speeding away on his bike at 100 miles an hour. Gosling's performance is another great one. He's the spark in almost any film that he acts in, and even more so in Pines: he's the catalyst that keeps your eyes glued to the screen.
     Soon enough, Luke--drawing attention from his bank robberies--crosses paths with rookie cop Avery Cross (Bradley Cooper), and it's here that the film shifts its focus to its second distinct act. Bradley Cooper does a fine job with Cross, a timid cop who realizes that he's the middle of mass corruption and double-crossing in the police department. Ray Liotta pops up with his usual thuggish and grimy officer of the law (that's not a detriment; this man is always entertaining). The Place Beyond the Pines was actually filmed a few months before Bradley Copper's Oscar-nominated performance in The Silver Linings Playbook, and it's not hard to see. He does an admirable job here, but he looks younger and has less confidence than in last year's wonderful film.

     The third act takes place years in the future, and it involves parallels and coincidences that tie into the stories of the two main men. It's also the act of the film that is the most unintentionally funny, as some connections seem like they were drawn with a crayon instead of screenwriter's professional pen. Take a movie like Paul Thomas Anderson's magnificent Magnolia: now that's a film where the threads of time are weaved throughout all of the characters and they all have unknowable intimate connections with each other that come to fruition by the end of its run time. In fact, Derek Cianfrance--who is clearly a director to keep an eye on, as he'd made two very thoughtful films--is similar to Paul Thomas Anderson in a lot of good ways: his use of very interesting tracking shots, his ability to coax out some incredible performances, and his choice of score, which really adds tension to nearly every single scene. In the collection of Anderson's films, though, The Place Beyond the Pines is most like Boogie Nights--not Magnolia. It's over ambitious, spans numerous years, and it's filled with plenty of ups and downs that take a viewer through a sometime-slow-sometimes-fast cinematic experience that is always worthwhile.
      The Place Beyond the Pines is a big jumble: it has many aspects that brings goosebumps to your skin and a few that make you roll your eyes and check the time. It's a film that is 140 minutes long that at times feels too short and at times feels too long. It also begs the question of whether or not its chronological order of scenes wouldn't have been more interesting mixed up, ala Pulp Fiction or something of similar fashion. But still, the question arises again: can you fault Derek Cianfrance's over-ambitiousness in this film about fathers and sons and life's connections? The answer is No. The Place Beyond the Pines is a totally admirable attempt at an epic story, one with plenty of faults that are mild annoyances instead of major displeasure.    (B+)

Evil Dead (1981) + Bloody Gore - Humor = Evil Dead (2013)

     The original Evil Dead film, the one directed by Sam Raimi (before he resorted to the Spiderman films and this year's Oz, The Great and Powerful), is rightly considered a cult classic--it also spawned dozens of knockoffs and homages. Just think of how many films deal with decrepit and dangerous cabins far out in the wilderness away from civilization. It has basically reached a breaking point, where horror films (like last year's Cabin in the Woods) are dismantling the genre conventions, not unlike the Scream films did for slasher flicks in the late 1990's. And now comes the inevitable Hollywood remake of a coveted horror film, a seems-like-cash-grab with a new director and new actors and no trace of the crazy humor and low-budget special effects of the original film. Somehow, it sort of works with this trip to the cursed cabin: every laugh from the original Evil Dead has been switched with a brutal geyser of blood, a nail shot through soft flesh, a chainsaw directly to the open mouth. The poster to the right states that it's "The most terrifying film you will ever experience." It's not remotely close. But no doubt it's one of the goriest and most brutally violent mainstream films in a long time.
     The studios were smart to release this film at festivals before the actual wide release: it built up a word of mouth about the no-holds-barred barf-worthy moments so horror geeks around the country were well aware  and were willing to shell out the inflating price of a movie ticket (the shocking red-band trailer helped, too). But I can't help from feeling disappointed when expecting something shocking when it comes to American horror films. They never match their French counterparts (check out Martyrs or Inside if you want some real terrifying and cringe-worthy moments). But this film definitely tries its best. Huge needles in scenes with eyeballs, electric meat cutters slicing into forearms, projectile bloody puke coming out of many orifices--these are the tools that first-time director Fede Alvarez uses to create this disturbing world.
     The plot is similar to the original in the sense that five friends (two of them are siblings) travel to a remote cabin, where they discover an old book in the basement underneath the carcasses of dead and rotten house animals. I could go through the names of the characters, but it's not particularly necessary: most of the time, they are strictly the meat to be thrown into this movie's grinder. A few words of this ancient, human-skin bound book are uttered by one of five, and demonic forces begin to gather around the cabin, starting with a forest-vine rape that mimics the original.

     One of the problems with this Evil Dead is its seriousness. Sure, some lines could be classified as funny (though not to me) and other situations are so over-the-top and disgusting that it's tough not to chuckle. But the overall weirdness and laugh out loud funny moments are gone here, evaporated like the mists of blood. However, everything looks really damn good, so the film's humor might be on the back of your mind. Previously a commercial director, Alvarez has a clear eye for setting up sketchy and scary situations. There are not many "jump" scares in Evil Dead (like there are in most successful PG-13 horror films), but its filled with plenty of shocking moments that make you rethink that three-bean chili that you had for lunch. And Sam Raimi was one of the producers of this incarnation, so it's clear that Alvarez had the original director's blessing.
      After watching the red-band preview that was circulating the web for weeks in advance, I knew that Evil Dead would be pretty gruesome. But watching that two minute clip was a mistake: it gave away some of the more hideous set-ups of the film (for instance, the one in the picture above). I wish that I had never watched it. But there lies the problem with certain horror films, ones that are produced mainly to try and give you an upset stomach: once you're desensitized to its graphic depictions of a group of friends in a shanty-like cabin getting sliced and diced, you're left with bad acting and a story that was told better back in 1981.     (B-)    
   

Olympus Has Fallen: The Impossible to Not Mention Die Hard Review

   Maybe it's because a few weeks ago, after leaving the theater of the latest incarnation in the Die Hard franchise, the taste was so horrible and putrid in my mouth. Maybe it's because lately my interest in films has been minimal due to the useless dregs getting released into cinemas. Or maybe its because--considering the pretty unoriginal plot--Olympus Has Fallen has an extremely talented class of actors. Whatever the reason, I was pleasantly surprised by Olympus Has Fallen. Sure, it follows the script cliche of "Die Hard in a ____" (e.g. Speed: Die Hard on a boat...Passenger 57: Die Hard on a plane)--in this case, Die Hard in the White House. But it has just enough slickness, just enough entertainment, and a realistic (and sometimes extreme) sense of brutality that sets it apart from similar, more forgettable action films.
      "Olympus" is clearly the Secret Service code name for the White House, if you couldn't ascertain that from the title. In the film, the home's main tenant is President Asher, the young leader of the free world played by Aaron Eckhart. The charismatic actor portrays the President as an honorable man who has lost one thing in his life that he loved above all else. Tying into that story of loss, we have Mike Banning (Gerard Butler, in the lead role), a secret service agent who used to be assigned to the President but was demoted to a desk job after an incident went terribly wrong. Banning is a gruff man with a full set of one-liners from the book of Bruce Willis, and they come in plenty handy when the White House is overrun by North Korean terrorists hellbent on initiating a secret government protocol called "Cerberus". Banning, after he turns these bad guys' brains into mush, says things like, "Lets play a game of 'Go Fuck Yourself'. You go first!"
    One thing that sets Olympus Has Fallen apart (it's not particularly the script, if you could tell), is the way the North Korean stereotypes take over the White House: it's an exciting and tension-filled sequence involving air and ground assault with pretty shocking violence and enough firepower to empty out the bullet aisle of Cabela's. One could argue whether the over-the-top use of guns and gun-killing is something to praise in this day and age, but it surely fits in this fantasy of ultra American Jingoism. During the takeover, President Asher and his group of top advisers get taken hostage in the underground vault that houses all of the important technology one needs to rule the country. Through the chaos of the attack, Banning makes his way inside the White House, a place he knows extremely well due to his past job.

     Morgan Freeman, as the Speaker of the House Allan Trumbull, is now the acting President in the wake of the attack.  Any movie can benefit from that casting. Banning--who is also conveniently ex-Special Forces--is Trumbull's only contact inside the terrorist-filled White House and is the nation's only hope in stopping the devastating attack. Other actors round up the impressive cast: Dylan Mcdermott (who was great in the first season of FX's American Horror Story) is another ex-Secret Service agent who plays an important role. Melissa Leo is the Secretary of Defense who is trapped with the President and suffers brutal beatings to not give up important nuclear codes. And main North Korean leader/mastermind Kang is portrayed by Rick Yune, an actor I wasn't familiar with, but one who is charismatic and dangerous and absolutely lethal.
     Olympus Has Fallen was directed by Antoine Fuqua, and it is surely a solid technological achievement: every explosion of destruction, every Washington D.C. landmark that is shattered and broken, and every knife cutting into flesh feels and sounds real. Some of the CGI in the first third of the film may be a tad obvious, but it doesn't detract from the pretty-darn-exciting entertainment on display. In fact, Olympus is a better Die Hard movie than February's A Good Day to Die Hard. Far better. If you switched out Gerard Butler and inserted Bruce Willis and then changed a little of the script so it would relate to the first two Die Hard films, it could have easily passed as an acceptable entry into that franchise. Instead, it's just a sorta stellar stand-alone action film that will be mostly forgotten at the end of the year.     (B)

A Written Word Review: Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk

     "Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk" is the first book that I read in the year 2013 (I'm up to #12 now), and throughout the thousands of pages and millions of letters, it's still the novel that has stuck with me the most  nearing the end of March. Written by "late bloomer" Ben Fountain--"Billy Lynn" is his first novel, and Fountain is 54 years old--the book will be one that's remembered years down the road: it's filled with insight, hilarious dead-on dialogue and an everlasting sense of melancholy.
     Billy Lynn, a 19-year old solider on the cusp of an intricate understanding about the American general public, and his Bravo company are heroes: after a Fox News crew (embedded with the company during a ferocious battle, which even got a specific title: "The Battle of Al-Ansakar Canal") filmed the group, specifically Billy's above-and-beyond actions, the average American citizen worships the ground they walk on.
     Billy and the 7 other soldiers, all with distinct personalities and eccentricities that are realistic, scary and sad, begin a two week "Victory Tour" across America, shaking fat southern hands, answering questions about God, "terrRists" and "nina leven", all culminating in a halftime show during the Thanksgiving Dallas Cowboys game at Cowboy stadium, complete with a cocky billionaire owner and Beyonce shaking her "jelly" during the flashy musical mid-game number.
     Plenty of books have been written about the Iraq War (the non-fiction "The Forever War" being one of my other favorites), but never--until this wonderful novel--has the Iraq War come to American shores. These men, battle-worn and primed to pull the trigger instead of gorge on all of the excesses that America (and, specifically, its football culture) offers on a daily basis, are rock-stars. But instead of putting their guitars in their cases and heading off to the next city down they road, these boys--after the "Victory Tour" is up--have to re-lock and reload and head back to battle.
     Fountain's descriptions, humor and over-arching sense of the feeling one gets when witnessing the gorging mass that is the consume!consume!consume! American culture is a picture to behold. I found myself occasionally shaking my head in incredible agreement. Tough to pin down feelings are put into words that were seemingly impossible, yet this Pulitzer-worthy novel is full of passages like that. Billy is incredibly developed: a man/boy who is constantly aware of the ever-changing American consciousness and their almost-God-like feelings toward Bravo company. Everyone wants a piece of them--whether it be a shake of the hand, a kiss, or a blowjob.
     One could spend endless paragraphs writing about why "Billy Lynn" is a novel worth reading. If you've made it this far in the review, then you're probably planning on checking it out anyway. It's really a book that can bring a smile to your face and goosebumps to your skin: you can relate to it, it's full of joy and humor, and it's incredibly smart and cutting in its depiction of American fandom and excess.

Netflix This: The Perks of Being a Wallflower

     Obviously there are dozens of coming-of-age films that deal with outsider teenagers and shy boys and girls, films that delve into sex and drugs and the nervousness and embarrassment that some high school students feel on a weekly (if not daily) basis. But of the past few years, I would rank last year's The Perks of Being a Wallflower as one of the best: filled with incredibly strong performances (particularly Logan Lerman in the lead role of Charlie), emotional depth, and a sense of everlasting nostalgia, Perks is well worth a watch for anyone that has experienced love or loss.
     The movie's based on the bestselling book of the same name by author Steven Chbosky. Curiously--and incredibly--the film is also directed by him, too, marking the Renaissance man's first major foray into film making. You'd never know he was a first time director. The plot: Charlie is a bit of a loner, one of those kids who enters school on the first day and sits alone at lunch, pecking away at his food like a little bird as he glances at all of the laughing popular kids.
     Soon enough, he catches the eye of two other semi-outcasts named Sam (Emma Watson, is a breakout role after the Harry Potter series) and Patrick (Ezra Miller, whose frightening turn in We Need to Talk About Kevin was memorable and horrific). These two--at first--seem like a couple, but they're actually step siblings. Throughout some parties, sports events, dances, and drug use, Charlie merges into the friend group that Sam and Patrick are a major part of ("Welcome to the land of misfit toys," Sam tells Charlie, in one of the very few annoying lines of the film). As Charlie grows more comfortable (and with the aid of a pot brownie), he opens up: one of his best friends recently killed himself and he has had a lifelong depression with visions due to a mysterious event in his childhood involving his aunt and a car accident.
     The three main performances are really stellar, and although I haven't read that the book that this film is based on, I can imagine that the portrayals would satisfy any fan of the written word. It's clear that when Charlie sees Sam for the first time, he is completely smitten. Their budding sort-of-more-than-friends relationship never falls for any annoying cliches, and the chemistry between Emma Watson's Sam and Logan Lerman's Charlie is completely palpable. The tension builds into the final third of the film, when secrets are revealed and Charlie's illness comes to the forefront. The Perks of Being a Wallflower was heartfelt and surprising, and it's one of the better films of 2012 that didn't receive much fanfare.

A Good Day to Die Hard, or John McClane's Quick and Very Painful Death

     The original Die Hard came into cinemas about a month before my 4th birthday, so I didn't witness John McClane's hard fought, down-and-dirty battle at Nakatomi plaza against creepy terrorist Hans Gruber (portrayed with brilliant snark by Alan Rickman) and his henchmen for a good 5 or 6 years after that. But it will always hold a special place in my movie-loving heart: it's still one of the greatest action films, and it never grows tiresome. The first two sequels (Die Hard 2: Die Harder and Die Hard with a Vengeance) were worthy entries in the growing franchise, showcasing some of the same wit, humor, and realism (to a degree) as their predecessor. McClane gets beaten and bloodied, and his character is rarely portrayed as an over-the-top killing machine like in action films that came before it. He wasn't superhuman--near death experiences and humility were all part of the game. After a long hiatus, McClane was back in 2007 with Live Free or Die Hard, which took the series away from its roots into a slick and polished actioneer that might as well have been directed by Michael Bay; luckily, it contained enough of a semblance to the original film to be considered pretty watchable, maybe even sort of fun. Now we come to the 5th entry of Die Hard, titled A Good Day to Die Hard.
      ...And I'm almost speechless. Yes, every sign pointed to this outcome: the film was directed by a man named John Moore, whose previous credits include Max Payne, Flight of the Phoenix, and Behind Enemy Lines (that action movie starring Owen Wilson of all people). It was written by someone named Skip Woods, whose previous screenplays were Swordfish, the videogame adaptation Hitman, and the remake of The A-Team. The films trailers, though a bit deceiving because explosions in small doses are exciting, didn't really show any dialogue. And the initial reviews were incredibly atrocious (17% fresh on rottentomatoes.com). But still: I wasn't prepared. A Good Day to Die Hard fell far below my expectations which were already extremely low. The film didn't need to reach the heights of any of the previous installments, it just needed to be kind of fun and mildly entertaining. It's not even close to that. It's a big squishy turd that the production company and Bruce Willis should be ashamed of.
     The so-called plot of A Good Day to Die Hard doesn't really even need to exist. The film spends less than 15 minutes of absolutely laughable conversations before moving from action set piece to action set piece with no thought of innovation or respect for the audience. The basics: John McClane--who is still a great shot because he's at a shooting range when we first see him--travels to Russia to try and reconnect with his estranged son. You see, during all of that police work John had to due during the first films, he didn't spend enough time with his children. So young McClane became a spy with the CIA (wtf?) and rarely talked with old McClane. When John arrives, things go wrong and things go Bang.

     The film--in absolutely opposite fashion of the original Die Hard--is so implausible that it almost made me sick to my stomach. An example: McClane picks up a large machine gun (maybe a SAW) and proceeds to mow down a group of well-equipped mercenaries entering a doorway. This elite unit doesn't stop though, they keep pouring into the doorway one after another like brainless zombies in the latest Call of Duty game. Here's another: at one point early in the run time, McClane is in a truck chase. He proceeds to get into an accident, barrel-rolling the massive vehicle 4 or 5 times. Then he gets out (unhurt), gets hit by a car and steals that car (unhurt), proceeds to take a cellphone call from his daughter in America, and crashes that car too. All while swerving around, yelling "Jesus Christ" and "I'm on vacation!". Speaking of McClane yelling unoriginal and uninspired catchphrases, the script is an absolute travesty. He probably says "I'm on Vacation" at least 7 times before emptying his clip into a "scumbag". The actual dialogue between characters in the film is no better: it mostly consists of sarcastic father/son chitchat about absentee dads and troubled kids. The villain(s) have no depth and no death in the entire film matters, because there is less than zero character development and just about everyone is annoying anyway. Most anyone could come up with a more entertaining and innovative script by finger smearing excrement on a piece of toilet paper in a New York City public bathroom.
     I guess some of the early carnage-covered action is the one part of A Good Day to Die Hard that isn't a detriment to the film. The truck chase near the beginning of the film must have cost millions of dollars in explosions and imploding vehicles, though it's not particularly innovative in any way. It's great if you enjoy watching cars flip into the air, glass shattering in every direction, and a shaky-cam directing style that's more likely to make you want to regurgitate your lunch than actually enjoy yourself. But it gets far worse the further into the film you go, specifically the second half. The reliance on CGI is disheartening. Instead of still being a relatable and human hero, John McClane has turned into a computer generated videogame star, hanging off the edge of spinning helicopters, falling dozens of stories through glass floors and debris, and having some sort of regeneration ability that allows him to walk off seemingly lethal injuries like nothing ever happened.
     Like Hans Gruber at the end of the first film, A Good Day to Die Hard falls from a great height, bringing the franchise down so fast and so hard that it seems like you can hear it's death rattle. Unfortunately, Bruce Willis has recently stated that a 6th film is potentially in the works (especially if A Good Day opens to huge weekend numbers). That's unfortunate. In the plethora of movie sequels that completely destroy the memory of the original film (the one that most recently comes to mind is last year's Taken 2 [not that Taken is on the same level as Die Hard]), this entry in the Die Hard ranks among the worst of the worst. It's a complete abomination that violates your cinematic love for a once-revered character and turns him into the latest indestructible killing machine who would be more at home on your Xbox than the nearest movie theater.     (D-)