The Curious Case of Stars..

Here it is! The patented 5 star movie review system. This is a system I stole from my movie critic hero Roger Ebert, and it goes a little something like this:

Imagine each star as representative as a man/woman sitting in a theater seat.

1 STAR - A one star represents an empty movie seat; meaning that whatever man or woman was sitting in the seat prior has officially left the building. In other words: this movie stinks!

2 STAR - Here the man is still in the seat but finds himself drifting off to sleep. If you're continually glancing at your watch, this is a good sign that the movie is a two.

3 STAR - Most films fall under the 3 star category. This is the territory in which the man in the chair has stayed fixed on the screen the whole time. It wasn't necessarily memorable, but it wasn't necessarily forgettable either. (3 Stars I often find suffice as a DVD rental for the average movie goer in lieu of spending 9 bucks at the theater)

4 STAR - This is the kind of film in which the man in the chair finds himself clapping after the film is over. Highly memorable and genre bending material here.

5 STAR - The 5 star category is a furious standing ovation (admittedly a rare breed, but so is a 1 star for that matter). This slot is reserved for movies that defy genre and seem to transcend the normal movie-going experience. Recent examples include "The Hurt Locker" "Inglorious Basterds" last year's "WALL.E" or the wonderful documentary "Man on Wire"

Hope this helps shed light on an otherwise difficult task of putting a bothersome label on something often times hard to reduce to mere category!

Wild Things Still at the heart of us all...

Where the Wild Things Are, the beloved children’s picture book has captured multiple generations with its subtle yet searingly true themes of childhood. In the hands of enigmatic director Spike Jonze, the film becomes a vast and looming meditation on the struggles and psyche of childhood. The boy in the wolf suit sent to bed without supper is still there, but the great adventure prompted by the immortal words “Let the wild rumpus start!” have been expanded into a soul-searching adventure of a young boy facing the challenge of holding a family together when his own is torn apart.
So how does one even begin to adapt 10 sentences of source material into a full-length feature film? The answer of course, is with great artistic liberty. Jonze and screenwriter Dave Eggers have given the story of the precocious Max context for his behavior in a world of dark fantasy and wonder.

Max, full of vivid imagination feels the weight of his parents divorce. His older sister would much rather be with her friends than spend time with him. The opening scenes have a group of the teenage friends destroying Max’s homemade igloo, and apart of his heart in the process. Before long, Max acts up to the point of finding himself cast out from the house. Not by Max’s mother, but by his own doing, he sails away to an island in which anything seems possible, because its Max’s dream.
The paper-thin plot involves the kind of details that on the surface seem little more than backyard childhood dialogue. Max and the Wild things he meets crown him king and then build forts. They discuss what happens at night when the sun goes down, and how max has magical powers unlike anyone has ever seen. The great beasts believe what Max tells them because his imagination demands that they do. The climax of Max’s time on the island involves a great war with dirt clods, the teams being evenly dissected into the “good guys” vs. “the bad guys”

In the most ambitious part of the script, Jonze and Eggers give the Wild Things a distinct personality, with plenty to say. There is the bossy know-it-all Judith (Catherine O’hara), Douglas (Chris Cooper), the sisterly K.W. (Lauren Ambrose), the gentle Ira (Forest Witaker), the boss-Thing Carol (James Gandolfini), and Alexander (Paul Dano) who is closest to Max in size and character.

The beauty of the film is that for the most part it doesn’t get too steeped in dialogue to let its most emotionally heavy-hitting moments shine through. Some of its most breathtaking scenes are shot gorgeously with actors that deliver loads of truth without speaking. The look and feel of the creatures is so real that it becomes hard to tell whether or not we’re watching CGI or actors in costumes.

Still the film feels as though it drags at times, begging the question of whether there really was enough of Maurice Sendak’s book to adapt into a movie. The heaviness of the plot’s themes do get a little cloudy for the film’s own good, but the main story arcs are powerfully derivative of its source. No, it’s not a film necessarily for kids, but it captures the timeless truth expressed in Sendak’s original book. When our world seems torn apart, even the greatest wild thing in all of us wants to know that we are loved and protected. And that our supper will still be warm when we return home.

3.5

If Rag Dolls Could save the world...

There are a few fleeting moments of brilliance in Shane Acker’s 9, most of which come within the first 5 minutes. With images so magnificently animated and wonderfully nuanced, as the first of the film’s 9 main characters stumbles to life, we are filled with wonder about their existence. This magnificence is oh so short lived though. Acker’s film, inspired by his 2006 Oscar-winning animated short film, and co-produced by Tim Burton leaves the space of mystery its origins inhabit and clunks around on the big screen at just under 90 minutes.

The film’s plot, much like it’s landscapes is sparse. Instead it makes a big to do about action sequences that create stakes we are not really sure about, and characters with motivations that we are not really invested in. It is somewhere in the future or some alternate view of the past, and the only remaining remnant of life on Earth is a band of rag-doll esque beings who have been sparked with life by a late scientist. The team of 9, each go by their respective numbers, being named 1,2,3 etc… Our hero, voiced by Elijah Wood is the youngest, and quickly becomes intrigued with the decimation of Earth’s population and what his species now must do in response.

We learn that Earth’s destruction was wrought by (go figure) machines of the highest technological sort. The screenplay seems to pay no attention to this “its-all-been- done-before” approach. Instead it pens a human race that obviously never read their H.G. Wells and therefore was unaware that building a race of All-terrain, laser machines would only bring about our demise. Now the 9 remaining must fight “the beast” which has been placed into the story with no origin or explanation simply so that our heroes will have something to do for their on-screen time.

The film raises interesting questions left and right that are quickly swept under the rug with the most rudimentary discussions of battle-plan between the main characters. I don’t suppose I was expecting the rag-doll species to sit around and pontificate the vastness of their far-reaching effects on humanity, but needless to say the dullness of the dialogue makes for an uninspired story.

9 is a visually arresting film at times, but mostly it bored me to tears. It’s not a children’s movie, but I’m not sure adults will find much to chew on here either. Whoever it’s billed for, I hope they can stomach the thought of a world that exists solely for animators to run amok in, because 9 delivers, if only on that one order.

2/5

Tarantiono's Latest is Bold, Bloody, Propoganda

Quentin Tarantino’s Inglorious Basterds is a big, outlandish, bloody revenge movie that takes place in an alternate view of WWII. Its characters, like all of Tarantino’s, are larger than life. Some will love this film; others quite possibly could be repulsed. Nonetheless, Tarantino’s skills as a writer and director are clearly evident in this picture that is, to say the least, wildly entertaining.

The film’s characters are drawn broadly, and are the same archetypes we have probably seen in countless classic war B movies. Most of their actions approach satire as close as possible without going too completely far. The film opens with a wonderfully tense scene in which Nazi Col. Hans Landa (a star-making performance by Christopher Waltz) breaches the home of a young dairy farmer whom he believes is hiding Jews. His premonition, following a lengthy scene of vintage Tarantino dialogue, proves to be right. The lone Jewish survivor from the events that ensue is named Shosanna (Melanie Laurent).

One of the plots running parallel to hers is that of the esteemed American war group the Basterds. Led by Lt. Aldo Raine (Brad Pitt), these men pride themselves in killing Nazis. Raine, in his southern-boy war-hungry patriotic mind, boldly demands the scalps of 100 Nazis each from his men. Their mission is a kind of guerilla warfare tactic in which they promote fear amongst the Nazis, even if it’s the Fuehrer himself. One of them specializes in bludgeoning their enemies to death with a baseball bat. Pitt’s character opts to carve the Nazi emblem into their foreheads so they are “easy to identify” later.

Shosana’s story revolves around the screening of a Nazi propaganda film, to be shown in Paris with loads of decorated Third Reich officials. It is no coincidence that Tarantino creates his own kind of propaganda with the Basterds. They kill and maim in a way that is grotesquely comedic. It’s the kind of alternate vision to WWII that some uber-patriotic Americans have only dreamt about.

By the time the stories converge in a Parisian cinema in the last act of the film, the stakes have been set so incredibly high that it is virtually impossible to believe the demands will be met. That is, until you remember who is at the helm of this movie.

Basterds is revisionist history, you can be sure of that. It is a film though, like most of Tarantino’s work, that resists categorization. It’s shocking, outlandish, hilarious, savage, and stylish. It’s a film in which the normal rules of criticism don’t necessarily apply. When a director breaks all-known genre rules by transcending genre itself, it is much harder to stand in contempt than it is to just be swept away by its power.

4.5/5

Life, Death, Regret and Comedy

Funny People is a film about the kind of friends we all have, the ones who seem compelled to make other people laugh.  The space this film inhabits explores the varying motivations behind such funny people, and what they sacrifice through relationships in order to get to the top.  Writer/director Judd Apatow’s latest film is a comedic heavy-weight hitter.  The kind which puts its audience up against the ropes using highly emotional story arcs, and then knocks us out with cleverly placed jokes when we are at our most vulnerable.  A masterful blend. 

           The film centers around grown up funny man George Simmons (Adam Sandler in arguably his strongest performance to date) who has recently learned that he has a very short time to live.  This is a major problem for the super-star comic, because he lacks the necessary support group that most people need to get through a sickness like this.  He has starred in a dozen movies, but lives in his own kind of solitary confinement high up on the hills overlooking LA.  It’s not hard to say what led George to this place in his life.  His botched marriage George dubs “the one that got away”.  The story implies that there is a certain kind of collateral damage that comes with being close to a comic like George.  Sometimes, his material relies on how he has or will hurt his loved ones.  It’s contrasts like these that make George’s story so compelling.

           George soon meets an aspiring comic named Ira (Seth Rogen).  George senses that there is something about Ira’s writing style that would compliment George’s own voice, so he makes him an offer.  Soon Ira, becomes George’s new right-hand man and the only thing close to resembling a support group that George has.

           This is not merely a film about one comic’s struggle with mortality.  No, it is much more nuanced than that.  Trust me, it’s also much more hilarious than its dark subject matter implies.  As in previous Apatow films, there is a cavalcade of supporting cast members, each of whom deliver mostly fantastic performances. 

 The film is rather lengthy, and by the time four major characters reach the home of Simmons’ ex-wife (Leslie Mann), the story begins to careen down an arc that requires us to quickly believe in the extent of all of this couple’s marital problems.  The pay-off, though rushed, is genuinely satisfying.  It implies, that each character will choose a path that is truly best for themselves, not just what the audience would most like to see. 

 Here Apatow does not stick to formula, he sticks to his guns and creates characters with remarkable depth and extreme vulnerability.  His wonderful insight into what makes a character intriguing, and most importantly, the characters that surround him, make this film what it is. 

 

 

4/5

Moon makes us revisit age old questions...

Although I am not old enough to remember the original 1969 moon landing, my loved ones have often indirectly done their part to help me re-create the scene in my mind.  I remember years ago, trifling through a box of my late grandfather’s old newspaper columns The Casual Comment.  I happened to stumble across an article he had written dated merely days after Neil Armstrong first took those now legendary “small steps”.  In it, my grandfather reflected upon the wonder and mystery of what it was like, to now live in a world in which “man has walked on the moon”.  Now, 40 years later at what some would call the height of our technological prowess,  a film like Duncan Jones’ brilliant Moon questions where we are headed, in an age when sending an ordinary human to the moon does little to satisfy our fancy, or our dollars.

I have to warn you, this week’s movie is one that I can assure you has probably flown under your radar.  No it is not a big budget vehicle like Transformers, therefore it doesn’t have quite the same ad revenue behind it.  I promise you though, your experience will be much more gratifying. So in breaking with the golden rule of most film critics, I am going to tell you why it is worth your time to see a film like Moon

Astronaut Sam Bell (a knock-out performance by Sam Rockwell) has endured quite the long haul.  For three years he has been the lone man on a crew intended to harvest the moon’s resources in order to produce clean burning energy for the entire world.  Sam doesn’t work for the government but for a massive corporation that has hired him out to do this job that painstakingly requires the abilities of human interaction.  Basically, if the machines screw up while he’s up there, it’s Sam’s job to work out the kinks.  In between menial tasks such as these, he waits.  He longs for home, for his wife and daughter.

With just a few weeks to go on his shift,  an accident occurs near the space station.  When Sam wakes up in the infirmary being looked after by the ship’s A.I. Gerty (voiced wonderfully by Kevin Spacey)  he finds a disturbance somewhere outside the space station.  What he finds there is beyond anything he could have possibly imagined.  It is from this point that the rest of the film delves into the struggles Sam faces as he interacts with the other new human he has discovered on the ship, which also happens to be…himself.  I realize full well I may have lost some of you with that last sentence, but I assure to say much more would be spoiling far too much.

There are few scenes you can watch in Moon without thinking of its predecessor 2001: a space odyssey, but the genius of Moon is that it pays homage to its forerunners while still managing to say something current and fresh.  The film is a wonderful sample of a dying genre: hard sci-fi.  The kind that makes us ask questions that I’m sure my Grandfather was asking that summer night 40 years ago:  What is it that makes us human?  Where do we go from here? And what does our future hold?

4/5

 

He Robbed Banks...and We cheered

Michael Mann’s Public Enemies is a sharp and fresh look at a romanticized traditional American genre: The gangster flick. Taking its cues from Bogart and Clark Gable alike, the film’s main character is hopelessly fond of these actors’ on-screen personas. He is a bank robber, an idealistic, maybe even romantic one at that, but he is nothing more nothing less.

Public Enemies focuses sharply on the brief crime-spree of legendary bank-robber John Dillinger, played by Johnny Depp. It is not a traditional bio-pic, or a summer action flick for that matter. What director Michael Mann does instead, he does with great discipline. He portrays Dillinger, during the two weeks or so that the film covers, as a bank robber, and nothing more. “I rob banks” Milliner says to his lover Billie (Marion Cotillard) with enough confidence to bet the house on it. We aren’t sure of his motivation, except that we suspect he might have something against the institution itself seeing as how he never steals from the customers’ pockets. We aren’t sure of his background either, but according to Mann it doesn’t really matter that has one. What matters is that the audience shrugs off its rememberance of the Robin Hood legend that he has become, to view him as he really was. Unabashedly cool, yes. But oh so tragic as well.
The film opens with a jail-breakout sequence that is unfortunately not as engrossing as it needs to be to get the story rolling. From here we are thrust into the crime saga of ambitions for his future. All he seems to take pride in is doing something and doing it extremely well.

Christian Bale co-stars as Melvin Purvis, working for the newly formed FBI. Purvis is obsessed with fighting criminals like Dilinger and his work becomes centered around apprehending him. He has admiration for his boss J. Edgar Hoover, who dreams of an FBI with black-tie officials, and clean-cut accountants. Purvis however, wants men who have actually been in gunfights, and when the feds’ screw-up leads to a Dilinger prison break and dead civilians, Purvis starts to feel the heavy toll of hunting a man like Dilinger

This plot does meander, and doesn’t always earn many of its emotional arcs it tries to implement, but it is a film of mostly crisp story-telling. The film is gorgeous to look at, with the utilization of digital hand-held shots to tell a story set in the 1930’s creating a breath-taking juxtaposition. I suppose that even though I wasn’t always excited at what was around the next corner, or even hugely invested in its characters, the film did what it was supposed to do anyway. It showed me Dilinger, at least Mann’s interpretation. Take it or leave it.

3/5