The Hobbit and a Desolation of Tension

 

You know, I think I'll start this review with an admission that will probably surprise no one: I love long movies. Think about it, movies today are expensive, and if you forgot to smuggle in drinks and snacks (or maybe you don't have anyone carrying a large bag or cargo pants), the whole movie-going experience can set you back quite a ways. And this is why I love long movies. Long movies make the expense worth it by giving you enough entertainment to sustain the kind of money spent. Of course, usually, longer movies tend to be better, at least in my eyes. They spend more time developing characters and worlds, thus making the whole experience more fulfilling, more enriching.

Of course, as some have pointed out to me in the past, long movies are an expense in time as well. And, finally, after three Lord of the Rings movies and one Hobbit, I believe Peter Jackson has tested my limits, which is a weird thing to write since I'm anxiously waiting for the final book in Robert Jordan's fourteen-book series to come out in paperback.

The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug has enough entertainment and spectacle in it that it's a fun outing, but it lacks something I so enjoyed about the first Hobbit and Lord of the Rings: purpose. Yes, I know, the purpose is the get to the Lonely Mountain and remove the fiery Smaug from the dwarf kingdom, but Desolation is so concerned with throwing the characters from one adventure to the next, that the characters have little time to discuss, well, much of anything.

Desolation starts with a rather unnecessary flashback. Gandalf (Ian McKellen) meets Thorin (Richard Armitage) in a familiar tavern fans of the first trilogy should recognize. Really, all we get from this scene is something which we could have inferred from previous events and character developments. We know Gandalf has a funny way of turning up when needed, a knack for pushing people to do things they would not have do otherwise, so this scene is pointless. As a point of comparison, take a look at the scene with Gandalf, Galadriel, Elrond, and Saurman in which they debate Thorin's purpose. It's a wonderful scene that is both informative and fun considering Gandalf is only there as distraction. The first scene of Desolation does not have any of that going for it.

From there, we flash forward to the merry gang of dwarves, one wizard, and Bilbo. They are still running from the pursuing orc gang and therefore hide in the home of Beorn (Mikael Persbrandt), who may or may not be a friend. He hates dwarves, see. But really, that doesn't matter because just a couple of scenes later and we're off again.

Next is one of three extraordinary set pieces. I'll only say that if you're scared of spiders, be prepared to spend the scene covering eyes and squirming in your seat. I know I was. But even this scene seemed to be over far too soon because just a couple of minutes later the dwarves are saved by Bilbo (Martin Freeman) and captured by the woodland elves, Legolas (Orlando Bloom... in case you didn't know) among them.

I'll stop there with the plot summary because from that moment on it's just more of the same, one adventure after another. Now, I'm not upset about this. The book pretty much does the same thing, but the book at least had the lyricism of Tolkien's writing to break it up. At least there was a steady build up of tension. This film lacks that kind of build up.

You may say that's because it's the middle chapter in a longer story. You'd be right. But even Two Towers had a steady build up, a growing momentum that concluded with two fantastic battles (three if you count Frodo's near capture at the end of that film, still one of my favorite visual images from the original trilogy). Even Empire Strikes Back built up to that famous final confrontation. Desolation is one confrontation after another, and while they are staged wonderfully, there's no build up, no tension.

In fact, the only amount of serious build up is near the end of the film, right before Bilbo descends into the mountain to face the dragon. That was the only point in the film when I had time to feel unease about the approaching moment. And boy does Jackson deliver.

Smaug (voiced with the delicious baritones of Benedict Cumberbatch) is the most impressive aspect of the film. For once the characters are allowed to have a conversation where the outcome could mean life or death. In addition, this was the only moment when I thought the use of a higher frame rate necessary. In 3D and HFR Smaug and that gold-horde of his come alive in a way I never thought possible.

The other scene I thought was quite memorable is the dwarves' escape from the woodland elves. Now that was a piece of filmic brilliance, where the absurdity of the situation threatens to be too much but it nevertheless delivers as a piece of visual storytelling. For some, I can imagine that it may go on for too long, but I thought it was quite brilliant. I was smiling during the whole sequence.

The other addition I thought was surprisingly effective is the potential romance between an elf of Jackson's own invention, Tauriel (Evangeline Lilly), and one of the younger dwarves, Kili (Aidan Turner). The chemistry between the two characters works, even if their storyline borders on the melodramatic in this film. I actually wished Legolas would disappear to allow the pairing a little more space to breathe. After all, his big romance is still to come in the Lord of the Rings trilogy (*wink, wink).

All in all, the film is entertaining. And for those who thought The Hobbit too long and boring, I guess this film is the antidote. However, I missed the playful language and witty banter of the first film. Too many films nowadays avoid that kind of lyricism, which is sad. Tolkien, among his many other talents, loved language. The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey reminded me of this fact; Desolation forgets.

P. S. Was anyone else bothered by the aesthetic design of Gandalf's magic? I thought it looked too much like a video game, as opposed to the wonderful displays in Fellowship and Return of the King. How can Jackson go from the beauty of Gandalf charging down the Nine or standing up against a balrog to this?

Tragedy and Random Thoughts

Today, I am furious. Sad and furious, really. But the anger and frustration outweigh the sadness.

In my life, I've never known anyone who suffered a violent death. Yes, I've known family members, friends, and coworkers who passed suddenly, unexpectedly, but never violently.

To be honest, I don't know what to say here. My mind is still trying to process all of this, searching and grasping for some logical foothold, but these things are rarely logical, are they?

Those of you who follow my blog are probably wondering what the hell I'm talking about and with good reason. I haven't provided the story yet, the reasoning behind my bewildering words. Well, the truth of the matter is I just don't know where to begin, so I started with my thoughts.

Yesterday, I received an email from my dean, informing all of us here at Mountain View College that the director of Writing Center--and soon to be official Instructional Support Leader--had died early Sunday morning. As these things go, there was very little information regarding exactly what had happened.

I thought, well, Kevin's too young to die so suddenly. It could have been an unknown health issue. Or maybe even a car accident. Yeah, a car accident. That's what it has to be. Nothing else makes sense.

However, I soon learned that like everyone, Kevin had more going on in his life than work.

I won't go into too many details. One, because I have very little. Two, because Kevin was a private individual and probably would not have wanted his private life spread across the Internet (not that I'm presumptuous enough to assume it will make it beyond my circle of friends). So I'll just say this: He died a victim of domestic violence.

Naturally, I feel sadness for the loss of such a wonderful coworker. Kevin worked tirelessly to improve the student experience here at Mountain View College, often working long hours. He accomplished so much in his year and a half tenure as Writing Center Director that it's actually quite astonishing. He constantly promoted the cohesion of all areas in instructional support and constantly reminded us that our first priority is developing students' potential.

A gaping void has been left in his wake here at MVC.

And now to the fury.

For today's class, we were discussing a chapter of Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own, specifically the part where she tells a hypothetical story involving the question, "What if Shakespeare had had a sister of equal talent?"

Basically, Woolf argues that women were incapable of reaching their full potential in Shakespeare's time because women were not allowed to cultivate their talents, and those women who had the talent to be artists of Shakespeare's caliber probably died without ever finding an avenue for their talents. It's a very good essay to remind students that education and opportunity are rather recent gifts.

In addition, it raises the question of women being treated like property, and I usually bring up the fact that even today women are not always treated with respect and dignity. Even today, violence against women is more than alarming, it's horrifying.

Yet, while in class, I couldn't help but think how violence plays such a large role throughout human society. And I'm not just talking about large acts of violence, those acts that grab most of the headlines, those acts of violence that spur gun owners to purchase bullets for protection against random acts of violence.

No, I'm more concerned with the alarming statistic that we are more likely to suffer violence at the hands of someone we love, someone close to us, than at the hands of some random stranger.

Just a couple of weeks ago, police officers were called to my apartment building because a couple had gotten into a fight and a guy had broken a mirror over his boyfriend's head. Thankfully, nothing more serious had happened, but still the incidence reminds me that domestic violence is not a problem for just one gender, but for anyone in a relationship. Violence is a human problem.

But I guess it angers me a bit more when it happens in the LGBT community. We face so many other obstacles in our lives that domestic violence seems to be forgotten, hidden, especially when coupled with the societal pressures that force us to remain hidden. Why must we hurt each other when there are plenty of people out there who are more than willing to hurt us?

Of course, this is not to diminish the violence women experience. To misquote Martin Luther King Jr., violence anywhere is an injustice everywhere. No relationship is worth taking a life. I don't care how "in love" you think you are. Obsession is not love, but merely a product of a human desire to possess.

Kevin was a kind and considerate individual. And while his slow manner sometimes frustrated my more squirrel-ish pace, his work as an educator and administrator is inspiring. He will be missed.

"Pacific Rim": Propulsive, Massive Fun

From the trailers, Pacific Rim didn't look like much. At least, not if you'd seen Transformers, Godzilla, or the many different "giant robot" series from Japan. Because the film is directed by someone who is quite well-loved, I thought Guillermo del Toro must have been angling for a paycheck. After all, this is the same man who gave us the great Pan's Labyrinth. Pacific Rim looked nothing like the brilliance found in that film, and so I was skeptical, opting to wait for the video/instant streaming release. However, the reviews started coming in, and since they were mostly positive, I decided this must be something to see on the big screen.

Indeed, I was right. Pacific Rim is a massive, overblown, special effects extravaganza; the plot is familiar, but that's the point. While Pacific Rim may be a close sibling of the Transformers films, del Toro's flourishes of style elevate the material far above anything Bay could produce, or rather, hasn't produced since The Rock. Pacific Rim's style propels the story, even during the slower moments, creating a fun and frequently beautiful film. Even though Pacific Rim didn't have quite the gut-punch Man of Steel delivered, del Toro's child-like film is the most fun I've had at the movies this summer, aside from The Heat, that is. Indeed, the film reminded of those long-gone days of spreading all of my action figures across the top bunk bed and spending hours creating "movies".

A few years in the future, Kajiu (giant, GIANT monsters) rise from the oceans and rain destruction upon the cities of the world. Faced with extinction, humans create Jaegers (giant, GIANT robots) to fight and kill the monsters. Years pass, and the humans piloting Jaegers find themselves famous, and the world begins to feel safe once again. However, the restful status is short-lived. A pair of Jaeger pilots, Raleigh Becket (Charlie Hunnan) and his older borther Yancy (Diego Klattenhoff), face off against the largest Kajiu anyone has ever fought. While the Kajiu is killed, its death comes at a terrible price.

Fast-forward a few years, and Raleigh is working on a huge wall world politicians believe will be enough to stop the Kajiu. Since Jaegers have been falling over the world, world leaders have dismantled the Jaeger program and have placed all their hope into the wall. Naturally, since this is a more than two hour film, the wall doesn't work. Raleigh finds himself in search of a new piloting partner as the world embraces imminent demise.

And let the battles commence!

I know I've already compared Pacific Rim to Transformers, and I'm sure you could infer how I feel about that series, but I think the comparison is needed to demonstrate that skill and planning can create an experience more fun than simply pointing the camera at stuff that blows up. Frequently in the Transformers films (with the exception of the first, which is actually pretty good), I have trouble keeping up with the action. Blocking and shot placement tends to confuse rather than inform. In the third film, Bumblebee is fighting a number of bad robots in what I thought was one part of the city, and then he magically appears to save Shia LaBeouf's character in what I thought was a completely different part of the city.

See, in those films, the action's sole purpose is to look really cool. Who cares about time and space, so long as the shots look cool? Well, time and space mean something, and when one character can simply appear at will to save someone else, there's no suspense, no sense of danger, so what's the point?

Guillermo del Toro, on the other hand, knows exactly where his camera is in time and space. He knows exactly where his characters are. Although the film mostly takes place at night during torrential downpours, I was never lost. Although both the monsters and the robots are CGI creations, there labored movements, and the actor's performances created action set pieces that seemed grounded in some semblance of physical reality. And that makes a huge difference in films with fantastical elements.

However, del Toro knows he's creating a "monster movie," and so he throws in fun moments where he seems to be winking at the audience, bringing them along for the ride, knowing that the film is first and foremost a ride. When one Jaeger wields an oil tanker like a sword, I laughed. The image is absurd, but fun nevertheless.

Of all the summer blockbusters that have been released this summer, at least the ones I've seen so far, Pacific Rim has a director who has a sense of style but doesn't let that style distract from the story; instead, that style propels the narrative forward, bringing the audience along for the fun. Thank you del Toro for reminding me that there are directors out there who can take mediocre material and elevate it beyond the promise of its story. Well done.

"Sharknado"... NO!

A few months ago this movie was brought to my attention on Facebook. Humorously, a friend provided a link to a movie that was seeking distribution during the festival circuit. The movie poster promises insane silliness, especially considering the tag line is "Enough said!" With a poster that features great white sharks spinning around in a tornado, I was a little skeptical of the film's merits. But, that same friend requested a full review, including the velocity required to pull so many sharks out of the sea. Unfortunately for us both, the film fails to deliver the goods.

I was looking forward to the silly shenanigans afoot in the film. Hell, one of my favorite past times with my dad is dissecting the absurdities found in cheesy sci-fi films. We even do that with the good ones. The fun of watching a terrible movie is making fun of it. Just look at the Twilight movies; those are a riot. From the reviews and the advanced press, Sharknado promised to be the type of silly entertainment my dad and I would enjoy watching together.

And so, with bated breath, Tim and I prepared ourselves for a truly awful movie. Tim wasn't nearly as prepared for the horror of cinema he was about to watch. We settled ourselves onto the couch and cued up the DVR. There it was... Sharknado... just as they promised. A preposterous title, with an even more preposterous story. This was going to be great.

In my head, I was imagining sharks flying everywhere, something like a cross between Night of the Twisters and Jaws 3, with special effects so terrible that the filmmakers had to have known what they were doing. Sharknado promised to be a self-parody of disaster movies, a film that didn't take itself too seriously. And with a premise like that, how could they?

The first shot was actually pretty cool. Across a dark sea, shark fins, hundreds of them, pierce the surface of the water as the sharks attempt--or are they?--to flee the oncoming storm. And in the distance, a tornado bears down on the school of sharks.

It's a great start. But the budget of the film and all its creativity seems to have been used up in the first shot. Pity.

Los Angeles is facing an unprecedented hurricane. And in the midst of this unprecedented storm is a very familiar story: estranged father reconnects with his ex-wife and children while trying to save them. Naturally, my first reaction to all the melodrama was this: "There are sharks flying through windows!" How can anyone be concerned with who is doing what to whom when sharks are swimming through the streets, flying through the air, and causing mayhem everywhere, even in Beverly Hills? 

But, that's a small problem. There are larger issues to be dealt with, for example, the film's complete disregard for its own absurdities. If the script had been wittier, more self-referential, more aware of its craziness, I could have forgiven the bad filmmaking. I could have forgiven the fact that the film was filmed in daylight, hoping that the grey filters and infrequent rain would be enough to confuse us. That was probably intentional, but the characters never seem to recognize that this is one odd hurricane, even more odd than the flying sharks. The hurricane doesn't act like a hurricane. The rain and wind are sporadic. Now, I've never been through a hurricane, but it's my understanding that the rain and wind don't stop, not unless you're in the middle of the storm's eye or the storm has passed. However, I may be wrong on this. Florida friends, help me out!

Sharknado's actual antagonist is boredom. Here I was hoping to see sharks flying all over the place with twenty, fifty, possibly hundreds of tornadoes, and the filmmakers only gave us four. FOUR! That's it?! That's what I waited months for? A measly four tornadoes. What a rip off! I suffered through terrible special effects, subpar attempts at humor, characterizations and plot developments that insulted the actors, and all for what... four tornadoes. Ugh!

When the heroes of the film finally (FINALLY) found themselves facing true "sharknadoes" it was too late. I had given up, even when the characters suggested that bombs could defuse the tornadoes. I was despondent and furious. Even that couldn't make me laugh. Awful thing to watch what promises to be a terrible movie, and it turns out only to be a terrible movie. I was hoping for more. I was hoping for the absurdity to reach epic proportions.

And that's exactly what the filmmakers gave me. (Spoiler Warning! Like any of you are actually going to see this...) One character, in her attempt to destroy the final tornado, falls from a helicopter and is swallowed whole by a shark. The scene is funny... But wait! It gets even better.

As the terror is over and sharks are falling from the sky, the hero sees his daughter threatened by a falling shark. He runs, wielding a chainsaw, pushes her out the way and leaps into the maw of the shark. Like his friend, he is swallowed whole. All is lost.

But no, what's that sound? Is that the sound of a chainsaw? Why, yes, it is. The hero is not so dead after all. He is cutting his way through the innards of the shark.

When the chainsaw cut its way through the shark fell onto the ground, Tim said, "Naturally birth: That's some terrifying shit!" Indeed, I was thinking about the same thing. 

Wait, the hero is going back inside the shark. What is he doing? You know what he's doing. He's pulling out the woman who had been swallowed earlier. A quick round of CPR and she's saved.  

Tim just stares at the screen, open mouthed, and I can't stop laughing. At the end, when all hope is lost, Sharknado finally delivers on the potential presented in the poster and opening shot. However, it was too late. Even on the level of so-awful-it's-good, I cannot recommend this movie with a clean conscience. If you do want to see the good bad stuff, simply skip to the final half hour of the film. Or find the ending on YouTube. I'm sure someone posted it. 

I, for one, will have to wipe clean the stains this film left on the walls of my consciousness. Maybe Caligula is out there somewhere... Or even Howard the Duck... Then again, no. Sharknado isn't THAT bad. 

"Upstream Color": A Glorious, Hypnotic Tale

The first time I ever watched 2001: A Space Odyssey I knew immediately that I had watched something great. What the damn thing meant in a larger sense, I wasn't too sure, but it was great. Years later, I have a better understanding of 2001 and have watched a similarly thought-provoking, beautiful film. Upstream Color is hypnotic, literally as it turns out, and stunning. It's impact lasts long after the final shot. In short, I wish I could watch more movies like this. I wish I could go to festivals and watch an unknown film unfold with the kind of exhilaration that comes from not knowing exactly what's happening next. 

On IMBD, the plot is the following: "A man and 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." That is the most unhelpful synopses I have ever read. Intriguing, yes, but essentially unhelpful. The film starts with a woman, Kris (Amy Seimetz). She's successful, living by herself, with the normal obligations of a successful person in life. Pretty much, she's normal. However, her world is forever altered when an unknown man drugs her by forcing her to drink an worm-like organism; he takes her back to her home and begins a long hypnosis. Kris is forced to take out a loan and empty her bank account (in addition to performing mind-numbing tasks), and the days upon days of her absence cost her her job. 

Kris' life is destroyed, and she doesn't even remember what happened. She only remembers waking up to her apartment's mess, a scar on her ankle, and a huge loss of time. But life goes on, and so must she. In the middle of her new life, she encounters Jeff (Shane Carruth). The two slowly fall in love, even through all of their eccentricities, for the most part unaware of the deeper bond they share. 

The synopsis above does little to convey the style in which this story is told. The plot unfolds in repeated scenes, overlapping dialogue, huge leaps in time, and parallel stories that are hard to connect at first. In fact, very little dialogue is spoken, only enough to facilitate the scene. After the initial hypnosis, the film feels like how I imagine hypnotism. The mind wanders and questions reality, questions identity, wondering if everything it's experiencing is nothing more than illusions, suggestions, planted there by someone else. 

Upstream Color is study on the nature of free will, on our own capacity to break free when outside forces attempt to control our lives. But it's also a wonderful love story. What's even more impressive is that this film is as effective as it is. Pure cinema at its finest. Indeed, I frequently thought of silent films while watching this one. How joyous it is to watch a film that doesn't feel the need to assault our senses with unnecessary noise. Instead, we can watch a story being told through gestures, through images. Lives unfold this way; memories are stored this way. Upstream Color is emotional and truly hypnotic in its presentation, a wonderful experience overall, and a glorious addition to the science-fiction genre. 2001 has great company.  

The End Justifies the Means in "Monster's University"

Monster's Inc. is a wonderful, thoughtful, inventive, and emotional film. So, from the moment the prequel was announced, I felt disheartened. Pixar, a company that has produced some of the finest examples of animation since Toy Story, has run out of ideas. At least, that's what I thought when I first heard about the prequel, Monster's University. In fact, my first question was "Where do they have to go?" I mean, how interesting will it be, really, to see Mike (Billy Crystal) and Sulley (John Goodman) in college? As it turns out, thankfully, I was wrong to despair. The people at Pixar know what they're doing. Monster's University is not equal to its predecessor(?), but it comes pretty darn close.

As the film opens, we see a very young Mike being escorted to Monster's Inc., the factory that produces the energy for the monster world by collecting the power from children's screams. He's fascinated and wants nothing more than to be the best scarer ever. Unfortunately, there's a problem: Mike just isn't that scary. Nevertheless, he works hard and gets accepted into the Scare Program at Monster's University. Also accepted is Sully, the son of a long line of quality scarers.

Enter the scariest creation Pixar has yet created: Dean Hardscrabble (Helen Mirren). She's the stuff of nightmares, with a body that combines centipede and dragon for terrifying effect. Dean Hardscrabble decides that the Scare Program does not need students who aren't up to scratch, and so provides an ultimatum: If she is not impressed by a student's performance during the final exam of Scare 101, that student will not be invited back the following semester. She's a hard one, that Hardscrabble.

Mike, clearly motivated to do his best, studies as best he can. Sulley, feeling like he can pass the exam in his sleep, slacks off. Naturally, they both get under each other's skins. Mike is jealous of Sully's natural ability, and Sulley is embarrassed because a green little eyeball is outshining him. However, circumstances force the pair to work together, which obviously results in them becoming the best of friends.

The plot of Monster's University follows the usual path. A motley crew of misfits must work together to prove their worth. Actually, I was frequently reminded of Revenge of the Nerds. The film does work, but, as I said, it's pretty standard stuff, even with all those monsters. Standard though it is, the film is well made.

For most of the film, I was feeling that Monster's University was never going to live up to the precedent set by Monster's Inc. Yes, the film is funny. Yes, the characters are likable and relatable. But I felt too much of the film had a "been there, done that" atmosphere. One exception is a scene in a library that proves that, even in the monster world, librarians are terrifying. Thankfully, the end redeemed the earlier sections of the film. I won't give away any spoilers, but I was pleased to see the delicate and sensitive way the film's creators handle a truth Mike comes to discover about himself. In addition, that final scare is a highlight. Watching the characters mature into the adult monsters who quite literally change the world is a joy, not to mention a nice refresher in a season filled with explosion-heavy, character-light action films.

McCarthy reigns in "The Heat"

Melissa McCarthy is quickly becoming a one-woman show. To tell the truth, the plot of her more recent film, The Heat, teeters on the edge of forgettable. It's pretty standard stuff, really. That is, if you're comparing it to other buddy-cop films: the awkward straight-and-narrow type meets the rough-around-the-edges type; they hate each other, but grow to respect their differences; and hilarity and action ensues. The Lethal Weapon series is a good template here. However, this film is vastly different from those films, and in a way, it's a lot more "real," or better yet, "believable"... kinda.

The Heat follows Ashburn (Sandra Bullock) and Mullins (Melissa McCarthy) as they investigate the operations of a Boston drug lord. As an FBI agent, Ashburn wants to take lead and work alone. After all, no one wants to work with her anyway because of her arrogance and awkward social skills. Mullins  also works mostly alone, but with her everyone is too scared to work with her. Even her captain makes disparages the effects his job have on his looks: "My kids call me 'Grandpa.'" Neither Ashburn and Mullins want to work together, but they are forced into the relationship due to extenuating circumstances, meaning "the plot." But enough of the plot, let's get down to the real meat of this review.

The main difference in this film, the most notable and obvious difference, is gender. How rare is it to see two women headlining an action comedy. Such things don't happen very often, yet The Heat proves that such things can happen, and they should. The Heat benefits from Bullock and McCarthy's unique charisma and chemistry. But it also benefits from a lack of herculean actions scenes. You know the kind. We've already seen tons of these scenes this summer. TONS. Take, for instance, Man of Steel, a film I actually enjoyed. Nevertheless, I grew frustrated with the level of destruction Metropolis suffered when gods fight. For a film involving superhuman strengths, this makes sense, sort of. However, this is pretty common in most action films today. The leading men of action films perform impossible tasks, regardless of the real-world effects on their bodies. McCarthy and Bullock, at least in this regard, feel more human, more vulnerable in this film, which raises the stakes whenever action scene is inevitable. The biggest action scene in this final, I would argue, involves a knife, just a knife. The result is priceless, and I found myself more involved than when I watched Superman and Zod tear apart metropolis. 

Action, however, is suitably pushed to the background. Instead, the film is a nonstop barrage of profanity, most of it coming from McCarthy, and it's hysterical. This is McCarthy's film, for the most part. She delivers lines without holding anything back. Mullins is a woman working in a male-dominated field and has to push for every single bit of recognition. Mullins, and Ashburn too, reminds us that in many fields, women have to work twice as hard as their male counterparts, if not more. However, profanity alone does not create a likable character. Here McCarthy is an expert. In all three of her hit films (Bridesmaids, Identity Theft, and The Heat), there are moments when her character reveals vulnerability, wisdom, and a lifetime of pain. McCarthy excels at this, and we love her all the more for that. Now, don't think when I say "vulnerable" I mean "weak." No, McCarthy's characters, so far, have been far short of weak. All have displayed a level of confidence that is admirable and attractive. Indeed, one running gag throughout this film involves Mullins running into past lovers. They have fallen in love; she has not. It's great.

Bullock, likewise, brings plenty of laughs, but not by trying to outdo her partner. No, Bullock is smarter than that and plays the "straight" in the relationship to perfection. Indeed, Bullock's best scene (in my humble opinion) is an early scene that beautifully captures the arrogance of her character. Upon arriving in Boston to begin her investigation, Ashburn orders the police captain to take her to a perp. Not wanting to give up any control in the situation, she blindly starts walking, without the slightest clue where she's going. In fact, she has to be told about four times, "Special Agent, this way."Bullock plays the scene wonderfully, just the way comedy should be played: with a straight face, unaware of the ridiculousness of the situation. 

McCarthy is on a role, and I hope it continues. Furthermore, I hope the suits at film studios realize that there is a market for female-driven films, outside of the rom-com bilge that populate the box office throughout the year. And McCarthy proves that she can steal scenes and headline an action film (I'd argue Identity Theft was her first action film). If The Heat is a taste of what could be in cinema, I can look to the future of movies and smile. Change is good. 

"Man of Steel," Indeed

My partner's first reaction upon seeing Henry Cavill, as he looked up into the camera, was "Darren Criss who?" Seeing as how Darren Criss from Glee held a special place in Tim's heart, this was a BIG pronouncement, and to tell you the truth, I couldn't blame him. While I've never been a huge Superman fan, I have occasionally enjoyed watching the movies and at least two of the television series (Lois & Clark and Smallville) depicting the adventures of the boy from Krypton. Over the years, I've preferred the more tortured antiheroes of Batman and Spiderman, those heroes who save the day but must always face the consequences of their actions, many of which are not so good.

Finally, at least in the realm of film, Superman has joined their ranks, and I for one am glad for it. The big-ol'-teddy-bear finally has to face the consequences of both "not acting" and "acting." This was done in previous films, but to a much lesser degree, always with an attitude that Superman was just one of the "good 'ol boys" and would get a pass. Not so much these days. Man of Steel places Kal-El in a complex world where choices are never easy, and sometimes you make the wrong choice, even though it's for the right reasons. The best heroes are those who are brought low only to rise above tragedy and failure with a stronger moral center.

The plot of Man of Steel takes a winding path, looping back in forth in time, starting with Jor-El (Russell Crowe) facing the death of his world. After repeated warnings, it appears his people have brought about the destruction of Krypton. For Jor-El, the end is inevitable. The Kryptonians' only hope is in a newborn baby boy, who came about in the natural way. 

However, Papa-Superman faces stiff opposition in the form of General Zod (the brilliant Michael Shannon), who attempts a coup but is foiled and banished to the Phantom Zone. Like the best of villains, you almost feel sorry for Zod, and sympathy makes antagonists more terrifying because their plight is sympathetic.

Krypton cannot escape its fate, and neither can Kal-El. The baby blasts off into space, heading for Earth, and Krypton implodes.

Fast-foward, and we find a young Kal, now Clark Kent, discovering his powers in a brilliant sequence. How terrifying it must be to see through the skins of your teachers and classmates; how overwhelming it must seem to hear everything with ear-splitting clarity. This scene is handled in a wonderful way when Clark's mother, Martha Keny (Diane Lane), is called to school to coax Clark out of a closet (hehe!).

Truly, these early scenes of Clark with his Earth-parents are the best of the film. With a quiet yet moving performance from Kevin Costner (Jonathan Kent) leading the way, I found myself feeling for the boy from Krypton. When, after learning about his heritage, Clark asks Jonathan "Can't I just keep pretending to be your son?" My heart about broke, and I wanted to give the poor kid a hug, too. And in one particularly heart-breaking scene, Costner proves just how effective a simple hand gesture can be. 

Years later, that same feeling continued as we watched Clark as an adult quietly moving about the country in search of a purpose, helping people out whenever needed. Though, when he burst through a door, shirtless, his body on fire, I would have passed on the whole hugging thing. Save that for later when Clark was merely smoldering and not on fire.

But I digress...

Another wonderful touch is the characterization of Lois Lane (Amy Adams). In pervious versions, Lois has always been smart and driven, but not smart enough to figure out Clark's real identity. This has always bothered me, and it was something which my dad pointed out frequently. Yes, I realize that when it comes to Superman, like with the most intelligent when facing a love interest, Lois got a little stupid. Still, knowing a few reporters, that journalistic instinct of putting things together is never turned off. Never. Adams plays Lois as intelligent, driven, yet never once is she fooled by a pair of goofy glasses, and I like that. Like with Pepper Potts in Iron Man 3, this is a woman who can handle herself.

Spoilers Ahead, Be Warned!

If you've seen the movie and have been following some of the responses to the film, you probably know that a bit of a controversy has cropped up, all revolving around Kal-El's choice at the film's climax. Superman makes a choice that has upset a lot of faithful fans. This choice doesn't upset me, but it is a curious addition to the rhetoric of the Superman legend. 

After decimating much of Metropolis (hey, it happens when gods duel), Kal-El and Zod are locked together in death grips, Kal with the advantage. A group of people are huddled in a corner, desperately wishing they had avoided the train station I'm sure. Zod then tests the limits of Kal's morals by blasting lines of red fire from his eyes. Slowly, the burning lines approach the innocent civilians. Kal pleads with Zod to stop, but it's clear he won't. In a final act of desperation, Superman violently breaks Zod's neck, killing him.

"Superman does not kill!" is the criticism many have lodged against this act. While I must agree, I have to address the situation in which Kal is placed. Metropolis has been attacked (in scenes that eerily remind us of 9/11), and Zod has said that his place is protecting the legacy of Krypton at any cost. Hell, that's what he was bred for. Here's a man who is trapped. Zod cannot change, nor does he want to. His final act, I feel, is two-fold. First, he recognizes the futility of his actions and longs for release, longs for death. Second, his final act is a test to see if Kal is capable of descending to Zod's level of ruthlessness; it's his proof that Kal is no better than he. 

This act, while definitely sullying the reputation of Superman, is a part of a larger rhetoric on American society, and thus an intriguing element of the picture. Superman, who has always stood for "Truth, justice, and the American way," is lost, like so many of us after 9/11. What exactly does it mean to be an American when our morality as a country has been so severely tested? Like Superman in this film, we've lost our identity, to an extent, and are desperately seeking to find our place in this world. Kal-El's primal scream after killing Zod is the scream of millions of Americans when forced to see the consequences of our country's actions. Man of Steel is a clear representation of our times, and any attempt to bring back the happy, dopey Superman of past incarnations would not have had such a powerful effect (see Superman Returns).

Spoilers Finished, You May Continue:

Man of Steel is probably my favorite blockbuster of the year (sorry, Star Trek!) because it is the only blockbuster that had my braining whirling after watching it. In fact, that's why it took so long for me to write a review; I felt I had to process what I'd seen before putting word to page. My only critique is that the action and destruction hardly give us a break, an effect of the blockbuster market, I know, but still, I would have loved a little bit of a breather. Hell, the final battle takes forever, and it doesn't even seem like Superman is trying to protect the people of Metropolis from the destruction, at least not until the end. 

However, on a lighter note, I came across this video regarding the true power of Superman. And now that I think about it, the destruction in the film is mild compared to what could have happened.

Either way, I hope the filmmakers follow through with the complexities presented in this film. This is a Superman who I can stand behind, not because he's flawed, but because he is willing to sacrifice his own soul in addition to his body for the rest of us. He's a hero who knows that his actions have consequences in the real world, and that sometimes terrible choices have to be made under the worst possible circumstances. Superman has always represented America at its best, and in this film, he shows that even fallen heroes can rise above the horror of our world and reveal the beauty hidden beneath. 

Iron Man 3: Just Shy of Greatness

When the first Iron Man came out in 2008, expectations were blown away. That film proved, much like The Dark Knight, that a comic book movie could be fun and emotionally affecting. Iron Man demonstrated why comic characters have built such a strong connection with people across the world.

However, films like Iron Man and The Dark Knight are the exception rather than the rule. Iron Man 3 fits somewhere just below those great films. It's a good movie, but the film lacks the global consciousness, the social awareness, of the first film. Of course, that doesn't mean it's completely devoid of social critique, but its presence in the film seems to take a back seat to other more localized concerns.

Iron Man 3 begins not long after the events depicted in The Avengers. Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) is dealing with the effects of PTSD, not surprising considering he nearly died. Meanwhile, Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow) is feeling emotionally distant from Stark and just a little jealous of the time he spends in his garage tinkering with a large number of different Iron Man suits.

Meanwhile, a terrorist known as The Mandarin (Ben Kingsley) is making televised threats (Osama-bin-Laden-style) against the whole of America. Indeed, one of Stark's closest friends is seriously injured during one of The Mandarin's attacks. In addition, Stark's past is starting to create problems for his present, and Stark has to deal with the consequences of his actions pre-Iron Man. After The Mandarin destroys his home, Stark is left to pick up the pieces of his life in the middle of Tennessee.

And that's all the plot I'll provide here, but this is a great place to begin my actual review. See, the section in Tennessee is my favorite part of the film. I love the exchanges between Stark and Harley Keener (Ty Simpkins), a young boy who ends up helping Stark with more than repairing his suit. A major difference between good comic book movies and lesser ones is the emotional connection between the superhero and the audience. If the audience does not feel anything for the hero, then there's no suspense, no real risk of danger. This section of the film wonderfully builds on Stark's vulnerability as a soldier dealing with the effects of war and coming so close to death. This section is where Downey's abilities as a fine actor really have a chance to shine.

Another wonderful moment in the film is a bit of a spoiler, but I'll try my best not to ruin anything. I'll simply hint. One of my favorite moments in The Dark Knight Rises involves Selina Kyle's rescue of Bruce Wayne near the end. I loved that moment because a woman rescuing helps build the possiblity that women are just as capable at saving the men they love. A similar moment occurs in Iron Man 3, and I loved it. Women need a larger presence in these types of films. It's a shame it doesn't happen more often.

*This picture is very Linda Hamilton in Terminator 2.*

My next favorite moment involves Ben Kingsley, and the only thing I'll write here is that his performance is brilliant. Brilliant, I say!

I was never all that interested in Iron Man as kid, so that may be the reason why I'm not as interested in these films as others. Iron Man 3 is a well-made movie with a lot of really good things going for it, but there is something missing, something I can't really pinpoint (call it a lack of sufficient interest), that keeps me from delving into the frenzy of fandom. That being said, Iron Man 3 is a lot of fun and much better than most comic book movies out there. It just isn't a boundary pushing film; it doesn't elevate the material beyond the expectations of its genre, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but this does mean Iron Man 3 is just shy of greatness.

*This artistic reworking of the Iron Man 3 poster below is a wonderful example of the strange, subservient positions women often take in movie posters. I'd love to see the movie depicted in this drawing!*

Star Trek Into Darkness: Criticisms aside, Still Great Fun

Generally speaking, I do try to approach each film I watch with a certain amount of critical, dispassionate distance. However, I am human, and there are just some films and series (maybe more than some) out there that bring out the "fan" in me. Star Trek films are exactly those types of films for me. It's hard not to get emotionally involved in the series. After all, it's a series I have grown up with.

While I did not watch many of the the original series episodes growing up, I loved the movies with the original crew. Even when I didn't necessarily love one of the entries in the series (Final Frontier, I'm looking at you!), there was still a measure of love for the effort and for seeing my favorite galaxy-hopping crew.

So, where is all of this leading? I'm getting there.

In the weeks leading up to the release of Star Trek Into Darkness, I've felt compelled to read a few of the early reviews. For films like this I normally avoid reviews because there's a chance my feelings might get hurt by what the critic has to say. Over the past two weeks, my head and heart have been battling it out. Reviews with negatively suggestive titles, I avoid. Reviews with more positive titles, I read. Some times this worked, other times... not so much.

Not exactly fair and balanced, I know, but then again, this is Star Trek.

Anyway, from the reviews I've read there have been considerable criticisms leveled at Abrams and company regarding the new installment. Some feel that the essence of what made Star Trek great is being lost in the push for a more action heavy summer blockbuster. Others feel that specific plot points pushed them passed the threshold of belivability.

To some extent I agree with these criticisms. The philosophical quandries presented in the earlier films and television series seem to be severely limited in favor of practically tearing the Enterprise to pieces. (I am worried that poor Enterprise won't survive its five year voyage at the current rate of destruction.) Little time is given for the characters to truly contemplate the consequences of their actions, and the film does end in a quick and lazy manner.

However, I'm taking this film as a step in character development, an episode in a new series, if you'll allow.

Critics have been complaining about the immaturity of Kirk (Chris Pine) in this film. While I agree with them that Kirk is far from the morally-centered captain of the original series, what I feel is forgotten in the rush to complain is the fact that Abrams' Kirk is a fresh, young captain, not the experienced version we have seen in William Shatner's Kirk. Even in the original series, Kirk was already a mature and capable captain. Pine's Kirk, while quite capable, has yet to reach that level of maturity, so I actually find it refreshing to see him making mistakes.

Another criticism I've read involves the fact that Spock (Zachary Quinto) is far more emotional in this film than Leonard Nimoy ever was. There is an answer for that as well. In this alternate timeline, Spock's character is in the midst of reconciling his emotional human half with his logical Vulcan half. The vacillation Spock experiences in this film, like with Kirk, indicates a lack of maturity. These are young characters, not quite mature, but almost. They are learning, and I find witnessing this process
fascinating.

Star Trek Into Darkness does, at least, correct a major problem I had with the first film in Abrams' series: a complete disregard for modern science. Yes, years and years ago, a common trope of sci-fi was the black hole. Any problem in the plot that cannot be fixed? Use a black hole.

However, today, our knowledge of black holes is substantial enough to suggest that the events in Star Trek are quite improbable, if not impossible. I'm still wondering why they didn't just use worm holes, something that's been around for a while now in sci-fi, having taken the place of black holes. It seems like such an easy fix, especially considering the backgrounds of all the people involved (Fringe, Lost). For this film, I didn't have any such reservations, so that in and of itself is an improvement.

There is one problem I do have with the "science" of this film: Beaming seems to be both a insurmountable obstacle and a safe and easy escape route. Characters seem to have no problem hoping across the galaxy thanks to Scotty's (the hilarious and perfectly cast Simon Pegg) "trans-warp beaming" equation. However, beaming one person from the center of an active volcano is a massive problem. The logic here escapes me, and I can usually argue such problems (part of the joy of Trek-science discussions among friends).

That being said, this lapse in scientific know-how doesn't bother me as much this time around because these obvious plot devices serve a much larger purpose: the moral growth of the crew and the larger critique of a war-mongering state. Because these plot devices work to establish an intriguing rhetoric, I can forgive them. The same cannot be said of the first film.

And now, my friends, I have written my way into spoiler territory. Much of this review has lacked any plot specifics because I've been trying to save that for the end, where I must discuss another character, and I'm afraid I have to give the film's major secret away. So, if you have not yet seen the film, I'll leave you with the following: Star Trek Into Darkness is an overall improvement, a welcome addition to Abrams' stamp on the Trek universe.

Spoilers begin now.

Benedict Cumberbatch, oh what a glorious name! For months, plenty of people have been speculating on the true identity of Cumberbatch's villain. And for months now plenty of people have guessed right. Cumberbatch's John Harrison is none other than Khan Noonien Singh.

The moment Cumberbatch finally reveals his true name, I got chills. This dude is seriously creepy and a far cry from Ricardo Montalban's iconic, scene-chewing/stealing, villain from the original series and the classic Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan.

Again, some critics have cried foul because of rehashing of a classic. However, I don't consider this a rehashing at all. In fact, the film's writers have gone out of their way to change as much as possible. This story has very little to do with the original series episode or the previous film. There are similarities, of course: how Khan was found (kind of), Khan's basic history, and Khan's own psychosis. But everything else is different thanks to the alternate timeline. Indeed, I'm hoping any future entanglements with Khan will revolve around Spock's brilliant subterfuge at the end of the film. This time around, Khan will have a much bigger beef with Spock than with Kirk.

As far as Cumberbatch's performance goes, I loved it. He's fierce, charming (not to mention a bit sexy), manipulative, intelligent, and Scotty's reaction to seeing Khan take down three Starfleet officers is priceless and quite appropriate. Khan is a much more physically intimidating presence this time around, no wonder both Spock and Uhura (played by the lovely Zoe Saldana) are needed to take him down.

Well, if you've stayed this long, thank you. Believe me, I had no intention of writing a lengthy review, but that's how writing goes sometimes. And as my family and partner have experienced on multiple occasions, I can be quite talkative when the "fan" in me comes out. It's the essence of fandom, I'm afraid, and I'm hardly immune.

Overall, despite and because of its flaws, Star Trek Into Darkness is a great summer movie and a wonderful continuation of the Star Trek universe.

*On a lighter note... Here's some grammar humor for you. And look! There's a Contact reference in there, too! :)

Favorites: Little Shop of Horrors

After two months of nothing, I have a new post for you all, and it's an new "Favorites" essay.

Now that work has slowed down considerably, I have the time and energy to devote to writing on here, something I've greatly missed over the past couple of months. This particular post has been swimming around in my head since before Christmas, and I have now decided to sit down and write it.

Years and years ago (who knows exactly how long ago), I remember watching a peculiar little musical that my parents had rented (probably from Blockbuster, remember those?). It was filled with catchy musical numbers, strange caricatures of humanity, and one vulgar plant. I say "vulgar" because near the end of the film the plant utters an obscenity, and I was young enough to be totally shocked by it. After years of restaurant work and playground antics, words like "shit" no longer have quite the same effect. However, Little Shop of Horrors's lack of obscene language proves the old adage "less is more." But I digress.

Little Shop of Horrors is one of those films, I believe, which marks the beginnings of my current infatuations with dorky, nerdy, socially awkward guys. Yes, for some inexplicable reason I had the biggest crush on Rick Moranis as Seymour Krelborn. I think it was the glasses. Yes, I blame the glasses. Either way, he was a first in a very long line, leading all the way up to Sheldon Cooper.

The film itself is actually a remake of an old(er) B-horror film starring Jack Nicholson. Seymour, as an employee of a failing flower shop, is lovesick and depressed, which is a condition that seems to be contagious on Skid Row. That is, until one day when he stumbles upon a "strange and unusual" plant. In an obvious bid to win a coworker's affections, Audrey (played by Ellen Greene), he names the plant, Audrey II.

After receiving a paying customer, drawn to the shop by the "strange and unusual" plant, the shop owner, Mr. Mushnik (played by Vincent Gardenia), orders Seymour to keep the plant alive. Odd thing, the plant doesn't want any of the usual pant foods. It doesn't even react to anything Seymour tries. That is, until Seymour pricks his finger on a thorn. The plant then makes a sucking sound and reaches for Seymour's bleeding finger. Blood is the plant's food preference.

Of course, any rational thinking human would chuck the plant out the window and go on about his/her life. However, the film sets up the characters as being so despondent that they are willing to take a beating if an escape from Skid Row lingers on the horizon. After receiving such positive reactions from those around him, especially Audrey, Seymour forgets about his misgivings and decides to feed the plant the blood it craves.

There are other complications, however. Audrey is dating a dentist. Not just any dentist. No. She's dating the most sadistic dentist the world has every known, Orin Scrivello, D.D.S. (played by Steve Martin). Like Seymour's own unwillingness to avoid abusive behavior, Audrey illustrates an unsavory willingness to accept Orin's repeated beatings so long as she's dating a "doctor." Like most partners suffering from abuse, she doesn't think she deserves better.

From the description above, it might be hard to tell that Little Shop is a musical comedy, and a hilarious one at that. The film lovingly pokes fun at the characters and the absurd plots of monster movies, but it does so without hating its characters.

Under the direction of Jim Henson (of Muppets fame), the film is not just a musical and comedic treat, it's a beautifully shot film as well. Henson knows how to set up jokes and effectively uses light and shadow.

The opening is a perfect example. Little Shop opens with a beautiful view of a starry sky, swirling in cosmic colors. The shot then dissolves to a similar swirl of color that turns out to be an oil slick on top of curbside puddle of water. Henson brilliantly sets up the tone of the film with the first couple of shots: the grand brought low.

The film is filled with filmic wonderment, but the best effect (of course) is Audrey II. If the film were to be made today, Audrey II would be a CGI monster, and that would be a mistake, a huge mistake.

Watching the film on Blu-ray, I'm struck with how well the movie has held up over time. Audrey II is just as impressive, even more impressive today as it was when I first saw it on my parents' enormous 12-inch screen.

Using his own prodigious skill with puppets, Henson creates a gigantic plant with such fluid movement that it's hard to imagine just how he could have pulled it off. The trick involves no animation (computer or otherwise), but a lot puppeteers and a slower film speed. Basically, ever shot with the plant and Moranis was performed at a slower speed than normal so that when the film is run at a normal speed (24 fps), the movements look normal. Impressive, indeed. In camera special effects are at times more realistic than anything computer animation has produced so far. Even by today's standards, Audrey II looks amazing.

But the effects and directing are not the only reasons I consider this film to be one of my favorites. The performances are also fantastic. To start, Henson uses his penchant for cameos just as superbly as he does for the Muppets. Appearances by James Belushi and John Candy are great, but the one cameo that steals the show is one which is not in the original musical. Thanks mostly to great ad-libbing, Bill Murray's quick onscreen presence is hysterical. Murray plays an overeager patient to Martin's sadistic dentist. Their one scene together is a brilliant joke involving S & M. Of course, it's a PG movie, so the joke is mild, but still funny as hell.

The heart of the film, however, is in the performances of Moranis and Greene. Moranis seems made to play the awkward Seymour, and Greene (with her distinctive voice) originated the role of Audrey on Broadway. Moranis is loveably dorky, and Greene proves that a wispy, quiet voice does not necessarily mean one can't belt out a showstopper. Both characters are desperate to escape from their own personal traps, hoping to move beyond the boundaries of their psyches and the borders of Skid Row. I remember watching their journey as a kid and being moved.

And after all these years, I still love to watch both characters gain each other, gain their own piece of happiness, gain that special place somewhere it's green.

Oz, the Not-So Great and Wonderful

Once again, it seems I have neglected my duties here. This blog seems to suffer the most while I'm busy  with my teaching requirements--you know, grading and such. Every once in a while, an idea will pop into my head, but before I have the chance to write it down, I start to feel guilty: Grading has to be done. But now I'm in the middle of Spring Break, and while there is still grading to be done, my guilt is outweighed by my desire to relax and write something that has absolutely nothing to do with teaching others how to write.

And so, I bring you a review of Sam Raimi's latest film, Oz the Great and Powerful, a prequel to the classic, The Wizard of Oz. This time, we follow the adventures of Oscar (James Franco) before he became all "great and powerful." Turns out, he was a poor, philandering magician attached to a traveling carnival. Then one day, a twister whisks him away to the land of Oz, where he meets three beautiful witches. Sounds like the making of a wonderful and intriguing story, but sadly no. For the most part, this film's story is rather dull. The visuals are great--especially the CGI character, China Girl--but the real tragedy is in the casting of Mila Kunis as Theodora (The Wicked Witch of the West).

Mila Kunis is a fine actress, but she is tragically miscast here. Yes, she can play an cold, evil seductress--just look at her wonderful performance in Black Swan--but a cold seductress is not what this film needs. Oddly, enough, this film needs a scenery-chewing, bold performance, one that is not too scared to be over-the-top wicked. And that's where the tragedy thickens, because the film DOES have a scenery-chewing performance in the delightfully wicked Rachel Weisz, who plays Evanora (The Wicked Witch of the West).

Now, I'm not saying Kunis should not have been cast, but I think she would have been better served playing Evanora rather than Theodora. Weisz's character is cold, calculating, and down-right manipulative, something Kunis could have pulled off with ease. And as I watched Weisz deliver the stand-out performance of the film, I kept asking myself, "Why didn't Raimi cast HER as The Wicked Witch of the West? She's terrifying."

Of course, I do hate to compare this film to its classical "sequel," but Margaret Hamilton's performance is the stuff of nightmares, even when she's playing Miss Gulch. Kunis' performance, not so much. Kunis looked the part, but she couldn't sell it. Instead of going over-the-top, Kunis goes under. Bless her heart, she tries. But doesn't quite get there. On a good note, Kunis will probably have another opportunity in the sequel. After all, the film is doing well at the box office, so Kunis should spend the time studying how to sell being over-the-top wicked.

That being said, the rest of the film looks wonderful, even the 3D presentation looked good. But there's a huge problem with a film when the preview for a 3D version of Jurassic Park produces more tension then the film I paid to see.

*As a side note, I can't wait to see Jurassic Park in 3D. Not only does the 3D look better than anything I've ever seen, I'm also looking forward to experiencing the film on an IMAX screen. The T-Rex's performance, now that's selling terror.

Finally! Something New: A Few Short-ish Reviews

For the last month and a half, it has seemed like such a chore to put words to page--so to speak. With the holidays, the end of the fall semester, I've had a general lack of interest in writing anything new. Well, that's not necessarily true. I'm actually in the process of rewriting the first couple of chapters in my book, Guardians and Dreamers. But that's not something I'll be publishing here any time soon.

My apologies.

Instead, I'm going to post this short-ish piece on the last few movies I've seen at the theaters. All were quite good, well, more than good actually.

Skyfall

I'm a James Bond fan. Not so great of a fan that I've seen every single Bond movie, but I've seen enough to recognize the formula and to have a favorite Bond actor. To be honest, I believe the first Bond you see will always hold a special place in your heart, and for me that actor is Roger Moore. I remember the excitement, the fun, I had watching my first Bond film, For Your Eyes Only. From the opening scene that led into Sheena Easton's titular song, I loved it.

However, I think Roger Moore has been replaced by Daniel Craig, especially with the glorious film that is Skyfall. While I do enjoy the Bond movies, I don't go into them expecting "great" filmmaking. Quality filmmaking, yes. A good time, usually, even with the subpar Bond movies. But I definitely don't expect great filmmaking. Skyfall is great filmmaking.

Sam Mendes has made some wonderful films: American Beauty, Road to Perdition (a film I absolutely love), and Revolutionary Road (a devastating look into a failing marriage and failing lives). He has elevated the Bond series; he has raised the possibilities of a Bond film. Like with The Dark Knight, after Skyfall, I'm not sure I'll be able to go into another Bond film without comparing it to Mendes' film.

The script is tense and fun without forgetting to pay homage to the Bond legacy. The performances, especially Judi Dench and Javier Bardem, transcend the usual caricatures. And the cinematography, by Roger Deakins, is truly beautiful. Watching the film in IMAX only served to highlight the qualities of the film.

In a couple of weeks, Skyfall comes out in Blu-ray, and I can't wait.

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

The moment I heard Peter Jackson had committed to filming The Hobbit, I was very excited. After Lord of the Rings, how could I not be. And then came the delays, the drama, and the news that the short novel was going to be, somehow, split in two and then three films. Needless to say, I was getting frustrated and worried.

Thankfully, my worries were groundless. The Hobbit is a wonderful addition to the Lord of the Rings films. It even spends a bit more time on character development than any of its predecessors, especially in regard to Bilbo (played by Martin Freeman) and Thorin (played by Richard Armitage).

The opening of The Hobbit starts slow, but it's the good kind of slow. Jackson takes him time, allowing the audience to enjoy the return to Middle Earth, and allowing for the humor of Tolkien's work to build naturally into the story.

And when the action sequences come, they come in droves. From the moment Bilbo decides to accompany the dwarves on their journey, the action hardly lets up. One of the best action sequences occurs as the company tries to make their way through the Misty Mountains east of Rivendell and are captured by the orcs that have made the mountains their home.

Of course, the best scene of the film doesn't involve much action at all, just Bilbo and Gollum discussing the former's fate. Unlike when Tolkien first wrote the scene, Jackson knows the importance of this particular meeting and so does the audience. That he was able to capture the importance of the scene is a testament to Jackson's uncanny handle of the material.

A personal favorite scene is the meeting between Gandalf, Galadriel, Elrond, and Saruman. As a Lord of the Rings fan, I'm happy to see the parts of the story Tolkien saved for the appendices. Instead of being time-fillers, they work with the narrative Jackson is attempting to build.

For now, I've been satiated, and while I'm still wondering just how Jackson can fill out two more films, there's just a little less worry.

Les Miserables

The first time I remember listening to the soundtrack to the original Broadway cast recording, I was sitting in my junior Chemistry class--having finished my work, of course, and free to spend my time however I saw fit. Les Miserables moved me to tears, and only one other musical had done that before: Rent.

Now, all these years later, I was very excited to finally SEE a version of the musical. Despite my disappointment with the film version of Rent, the trailers and the people behind the film version of Les Miserables raised my hopes. I walked into the film with high expectations.

Unfortunately, Tim and were a little late getting to the theater--at least later than we usually like to arrive--and so we were forced to get a couple of less-than-stellar seats: right next to the entrance to the theater. We watched as people poured into the theater, filling up most the seats. The talking seemed louder than when we normally go to the movies.

I was starting to worry that the audience was going to ruin my own experience. However, this proved unfounded. The moment the film started we were all transported by the opening chords and the opening visuals to a post-revolutionary France.

Tom Hooper, who made the brilliant The King's Speech, directed the film in a style that was, for some reason, surprising. The film looked like how I imagine France of that time period, but it still looked a bit stylized. It was simultaneously real and fake. Right now, I can't describe it in any other way than as a stylized representation of reality. Weird as that sounds.

The opening shots seemed to travel by far faster than I would like, especially during "Lovely Ladies." Here was a song where you'd want to see all those lovely women, but the shots just flew by in a distracting whirlwind.

And then the film settled into Fantine's lamentation, "I Dreamed a Dream," where the camera drew in close to Anne Hathaway's face for an almost unbearable, single-shot, performance. Now, I don't mean Hathaway did a terrible job. No, when I say unbearable, I mean that the performance was so good, I felt guilty watching Fantine's descent into prostitution and loneliness. It was quite nearly unbearably sad. And from that moment on my eyes were filled with tears. Twice, after that, those tears fell from my eyes, unabashed and unashamed, for there were quite a few other people around us sniffling, and not just women either.

One of those moments caught me off guard. The first occurred during what has to be the saddest moment of the musical. The second was a moment I was not aware of; I'm not even sure it happened in the musical. It involved Javert (played by Russell Crowe) and Gavroche (played by Daniel Huttleston), and I'll say no more.

I haven't cried like that since I was surprised, once again, by Bridge to Terabithia--and I blame the misleading trailers for that one.

Anyway, I have focused on my emotional response to the film because that's what I remember most. Yes, the performances were topnotch--although Crowe doesn't exactly fail at singing, he does not do a swell job, but his acting fits the character. The production design was outstanding. My only critique is that the early scenes were editing at a pace that didn't fit the style of the film. It was a pacing more fitting for a Michael Bay film.

Other than that, I absolutely loved it.

Django Unchained

And finally, we've come to Tarantino's latest film. This was a surprise, too. A surprise because it happens to be Tarantino's most straight-forward narrative. The story is told from beginning to end without very many flashbacks or loops in storytelling. Django Unchained is almost like Tarantino wanted to prove he could tell a straight-forward story. It must have been a strain on the poor guy. And I keep hearing about a five hour edit he may or may not release.

Goodness... I'm not sure I want to see a five hour version of Django. The nearly three hours was plenty, just right in fact.

Even now, I'm not sure where I'd place Django against Tarantino's other films. While it does pack an emotional whollop, and the characters are fascinating; Django seems to be missing something although I'm not entirely sure what.

Maybe it has something to do with the uncomfortable subject matter. After all, culturally speaking, slavery is not something many Americans are proud of. I read an article that Americans are having the same reactions to Django that Germans had to Inglourious Basterds. I can now imagine how a revisionist film about WWII could make almost anyone whose cultural history encompasses that period might not embrace the film with overt enthusiasm.

Yes, even today, I'm not sure how I feel about Django. It's a good film, a wonderful example of a heroic journey. Think Odysseus, but instead of Sirens, Cyclopses, pig-soldiers, and many other terrors of the ancient Greek world, you have slaves, slave-holders, abolitionists, and every other unsavory aspect of slavery.

The story follows the format of a traditional heroic journey. The hero is freed, trained, and has to overcome some serious obstacles to achieve his goal, in this instance, the freeing of his wife, Broomhilda (played by Kerry Washington.

Jamie Foxx, Christoph Waltz, and Leonardo DiCaprio give stellar performances, but I think my favorite performance--the one that's the most memorable--has to go to Samuel Jackson. He plays Stephen, the devoted head servant for DiCaprio's Calvin Candie. Jackson has the hardest job of the entire cast: a black man who is terrifying and yet willing to do his master's bidding, no matter what happens to the black people around him. For Jackson, it's a performance rivaling the best of his career. Indeed, I'm disappointed he wasn't nominated for an Academy Award. He certainly deserves it.

Like with most of Tarantino's film, I'm unsure of how to approach the film, from a critical perspective, that is. It will definitely take time to process, again, like his other films. Truthfully, I may never find a way to approach his films other than to just sit back and enjoy the right. And Django Unchained is a swell ride.