Captain Critic

Review: "Man on a Ledge"

2012-01-26T02:19:00.009-05:00

So there he is, that man out here on the ledge. From the very first moments we glimpse him, we know that the hero in "Man on a Ledge" does not intend to jump off the 21st floor of a swanky Manhattan hotel. He's up to something, that man, whose name turns out to be Nick Cassidy, and is played by Sam Worthington. That something involves making everyone think he's suicidal, including the cops trying to talk him down and the people on the street, who would also like him to come down -- but quicker.

This is not some deep-think drama or character study. "Man on a Ledge" wants to be a fun and zippy thriller, part heist flick and part revenge catharsis. And it mostly carries out its intentions adeptly, under the direction of Asger Leth, a novice to feature films, and screenwriter Pablo F. Fenjves, a television veteran.

Despite the static location of its protagonist, the story is constantly on the move. "Man" is a movie that is plot, plot and more plot. Eventually Nick gets to go places -- otherwise things would get really dull, since the ledge routine is merely a diversion. The real action is across the street, where Nick's brother Joey (Jamie Bell) is breaking into a rich guy's vault with the help of his girlfriend, Angie (Genesis Rodriguez). The girlfriend milks every existing cliché for the fiery cinematic Latina, including the liberal use of the word "puta," and creates a few new ones.

At first the break-in appears to be a straight high-tech infiltration/robbery, with people dangling from ropes to avoid laser alarms, faking out sophisticated security cameras with simple ruses, etc. We've seen it all before, and other than a few clever twists, it doesn't hold our attention long.

But there's obviously more going on here. The guy they're robbing, David Englander, is an evil real estate tycoon played by Ed Harris, who exploits his steely blue eyes and creased visage with expert, if overly familiar, flair. Nick is looking to get back at Englander for something, but what?

It's the job of Lydia Mercer (Elizabeth Banks) to find out. A police negotiator who recently had a high-profile failure on the job, she's specifically requested by Nick to be the one talking to him. Her semi-willing partner is played by Edward Burns, in standard tough-New Yorker mode.

Nick and Lydia establish a connection, but she senses that she's being played. First her mission is merely to learn his real name and identity. Later, it will be to decide who to trust.

Rounding out the cast are Titus Welliver as the officer in command of the scene, Anthony Mackie as a cop who's an old friend of Nick's, William Sadler as a curiously omnipresent hotel worker and Kyra Sedgwick as a TV reporter with an incongruous surname and accent.

I didn't dislike "Man on a Ledge," but its moving parts all fit together a little too neatly and predictably for me to really enjoy.

2.5 stars out of four

Review: "Shame"

2012-01-25T05:25:00.013-05:00

Brandon is a sex addict. This may sound like a set-up for juvenile joking -- "What man isn't!" -- but the new drama "Shame" contains not an ounce of smirk. Its cinematic cousins are not T&A comedies but other dramas about addiction, and how it sucks all the joy out of people's lives.

The irony for Brandon is that one of the most beautiful, pleasurable experiences in human existence is the source of his pain. For him, the thrill of sexual intercourse plays like a dirge -- assisted by the film's dour, almost numbing musical score by Harry Escott.

German-born actor Michael Fassbender, best known to American audiences for playing young Magneto in last summer's "X-Men" reboot, gives a harrowing and haunting performance as Brandon. It's a revealing portrait, both physically -- the film's unabashed nudity and sex scenes earned an NC-17 rating -- and at its emotional core.

There's one amazing scene where we see Brandon engaged in vigorous sex with two prostitutes, and Fassbender shows us that the fleeting satisfaction of his physical urges only saps his soul.

Brandon lives alone in a fabulous Manhattan apartment, and works at an upscale ad agency where the boss (James Badge Dale) is a walking sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen. Brandon is more circumspect about his desires, though, surreptitiously watching porn on his office computer and masturbating in the men's restroom.

He also takes care to avoid becoming the office lothario, generally shying away from the women he works with, until Marianne (Nicole Beharie) sidles up to him one day and makes her attraction clear. The sequence of their brief courtship is perhaps the most difficult thing to watch in the movie -- Brandon, presented with a genuine woman of wit and soul and charming awkwardness, struggles to relate. It's like a shark trying to go vegetarian.

It becomes clear exactly how alone Brandon is when his sister Sissy arrives unannounced and begs him to let her crash there. Their meeting is revealing: he catches her naked in the bath, thinking a burglar has broken in, and Sissy makes little attempt to cover herself up.

The suggestion that Brandon's obsession has touched even this sibling relationship is like a shadow that lingers over the entire movie.

Sissy is played by Carey Mulligan, in a tender, brittle performance that underlines her status as one of the best actresses of her young generation. The scene where she sings a sad, slow rendition of "New York, New York" at a nightclub while Brandon tearfully looks on is genuinely touching.

Director Steve McQueen (no relation to the screen legend), who co-wrote the screenplay with Abi Morgan, paints an unflattering picture of sexual obsession, though the sex scenes are clearly designed to be titillating -- with the exception of Brandon's foray into a gay club when his addiction reaches its nadir.

(I don't think McQueen is attempting to portray homosexuality as ugly, just a sick straight man who will do anything for sex, even if he doesn't enjoy it.)

"Shame" isn't a great movie, but quite a good one showcasing an amazing performance by Michael Fassbender that should get some attention when Academy Award nominations arrive.

3 stars out of four

Review: "A Dangerous Method"

2012-01-25T00:36:00.009-05:00

I greatly enjoyed "A Dangerous Method," though I recognize it's not for everyone. It's a fictionalized version of the relationship between three pivotal figures in the development of psychoanalysis: Sigmund Freud, his protégé Carl Jung and Sabina Spielrein, a patient of Jung's who became his lover and then a pioneering psychologist in her own right.

The movie is a mixture of esoteric discussions on the nature of the human mind and depictions of tortured sexuality. One minute, the characters are debating the way their budding discipline is being ostracized by the greater scientific community; the next, they're engaging in kinky sex -- one getting whipped while she watches herself in the mirror, etc.

I found the juxtaposition of intellectual and carnal impulses delightful, but then I'm a very thin slice of the movie-going demographic -- a psychology major my first two years in college, before switching to film and journalism. "A Dangerous Method" is based on the play "The Talking Cure" by Christopher Hampton (who also penned the screenplay).

For me, it was like watching dry history from my old textbooks brought to vivid, neurotic life. A terrific trio of actors illuminate the (supposed) private lives of these stuffy figures, their collaborations and conflicts.

Others, though, may simply dismiss it as high-brow erotica with a brainy bent.

The film is directed by David Cronenberg, and if ever there were a filmmaker made to delve into the psycho-sexual labyrinths of Freud & Co., it's him. Cronenberg ("Dead Ringers") has had a career flitting between mainstream and art films, straight-out horror and deeply disquieting dramas. His movies ("Videodrome") have always had a healthy dose of id-driven fear and loathing slithering under their slick surface.

Michael Fassbender plays Jung, who in 1904 was a 29-year-old doctor practicing the still-revolutionary "psychanalysis" invented by Freud. He is assigned as a patient Sabina, a 19-year-old Russian Jew who's had thoughts of becoming a psychologist herself, but is currently suffering from crippling mental instability.

Knightley, with her willowy beauty and fierce, large eyes, makes quite an impression as Sabina, contorting her body and unhinging her lower jaw in a convincing physical manifestation of her mind's anguish. She looks like her soul is so offended by the stain of her mortal failings, it's trying to shunt off its own fleshy sheath.

Eventually Sabina's psychosis is brought under control using classic Freudian theories about sexual repression, and she becomes Jung's student. Frustrated by trying to understand sex-based impulses when she has no intimate experience herself, she initiates as affair with Jung, who is married to a very wealthy woman (Sarah Gadon).

Things really get crackling when Freud steps into the picture. Played by Viggo Mortensen with magisterial authority, Freud views himself as both a pioneer and victim, attempting to rewrite the laws of science regarding the human mind, yet stubborn in his insistence that a psychologist's role is not to cure his patients but merely help them understand themselves.

"I can assure you than in a hundred years time, our work will still be rejected," he tells Jung at their first meeting. "Columbus, you know, had no idea what country he'd discovered. Like him, I am in the dark. All I know is I've set foot on the shore, and the country exists."

The two men's philosophies clash in time, with Jung feeling constrained by Freud's view of all psychoses as sexual in origin. "There must be more than one hinge to the universe," he tells Sabina.

Again, thrilling stuff from my vantage point, but maybe not yours.

3.5 stars out of four

Video review: "Real Steel"

2012-01-24T05:10:00.011-05:00

Every year spawns a few movies that fall into the "love-it-or-hate-it" category, or in the case of "Real Steel," the "like-it-or-hate-it" flick of 2011. Several of my local film critic colleagues have even seen fit to toss it onto their "Worst of the Year" list.

Though hardly a cinematic knockout, I found it to be an amusing, if admittedly overly sappy father/son redemption story with impressively cool robots -- "The Champ" with Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots.

Actually, since the movie came I finally figured out why the boxing robots in the movie are so evocative: they bear a startling resemblance to the iron football goon used in promotional bits for NFL games on Fox. People who might abhor the visceral thrill of boxing and other human blood sport can safely revel in watching two automatons turn each other into scrap metal.

Hugh Jackman plays Charlie Kenton, a former contender in the ring who became a manager of robots when human boxing was outlawed. (The story is set in the near future.) Through a series of unlikely circumstances, Charlie is forced to take Max (Dakota Goya), the son he never met, on the road with him, where they bond through a sequence of misadventures.

Their fortunes take a turn for the better when they uncover a mysterious robot fighter buried in a junkyard, dub him Atom, and before long they're headed to the championship bout.

The CGI battles hit that sweet spot where the robots are just humanistic enough that the audience feels like it has a stake in the outcome, but can safely cheer on the mayhem. We certainly feel more for Atom than we did any of the Transformers in their movies.

"Real Steel" may be overly maudlin, but as lightweight entertainment with a little heart, it's the real deal.

Extras for DVD are fairly OK: a blooper reel, two making-of featurettes, and audio commentary by director Shawn Levy.

The blu-ray edition includes a few upgrades, the centerpiece of which is an interactive "second screen" with videos and behind-the-scenes tidbits. Plus deleted and extended scenes and two more featurettes, including one about Sugar Ray Leonard, who served as boxing consultant on the production.

Movie: 3 stars out of four
Extras: 3 stars

Reeling Backward: "Wings" (1927)

2012-01-23T01:34:00.126-05:00

Watching "Wings," the very first winner of the Oscar for Best Picture, and both the strengths and the limitations of its era are obvious.

The downsides are familiar from silent film acting, and early Hollywood in general: a stilted, theatrical acting style; maudlin portrayals of romantic and familial relationships; plots that often turn on happenstance and (mis)overheard conversations; action scenes constrained by the primitive special effects of the time.

But it's still a terrific picture, with some stuff I didn't expect. The gritty, uncompromising portrayal of World War I is shocking for its bloody mayhem and overt depiction of suffering and death. One of the main characters gets shot out of the sky, blood bursting from his mouth like a fountain. There's some daring sexual depictions, including a pair of lesbians, some naked male behinds at the military recruiting office and a brief topless shot of Clara Bow.

And the aerial dogfighting scenes, though they contain a number of fake-looking collisions and other weaknesses, are still pretty cutting-edge for their time. Most notable was director William A. Wellman's use of rear-facing cameras mounted on actual airplanes, so he could film his stars as they experienced the real gyrations and wind-swept thrills of open-cockpit aviation.

Bow received top billing in the film, even though her part is a supporting one and she disappears for long stretches of the movie. The "It Girl" had a distinctive look that seems almost quaint nowadays -- kewpie-doll face, boyishly short haircut, huge expressive eyes and petite figure. She plays the (literal) girl next door, Mary Preston, who's been in love with Jack Powell (Charles "Buddy" Rogers) since they were kids.

Alas, Jack only seems to have motors on his brain, tinkering around with his hotrod, the Shooting Star. Soon war arrives and he signs up to be a pilot. After a misunderstanding, he goes to Europe mistakenly thinking that Sylvia (Jobyna Ralston), the sophisticated city girl, has given her heart to him.

In reality, she adores David Armstrong (Richard Arlen), the upstanding scion of the town's wealthiest family. Jack goes to war bearing Sylvia's locket with her picture inside, unaware the inscription on the back is made out to David. Meanwhile, Mary signs up as a volunteer to drive trucks for the Allies, hoping to be near Jack.

After an initial period of hostility, Jack and David become fast friends -- and ace pilots. I found it curious that there's very little footage of planes in the air during the film's first half, and then all of a sudden the aerial combat scenes wash over you like a tidal wave.

I've long been a fan of World War I aviation, a period in which new technological breakthroughs seemed to change the tide of the war in the air every couple of months. The film shows real hazards of those claptrap machines, like the machine gun jamming (a frequent occurrence). Though no one ever seems to run out of bullets.

"Wings" also depicts how dogfighting was hardly the epicenter of aerial combat. Attacks on ground targets are frequent, plus one thrilling sequence where Jack and David raid some zeppelins that were used effectively to spot out enemy troop moments.

The love story is less thrilling. Mary does indeed unite with Jack, but he's so plastered while on leave that he fails to recognize her. (Instead, implausibly, becoming obsessed with "lil' bubbles" that he imagines jumping from his champagne glass into virtually every object he sees.) Mary is sent packing back to the States when MPs discover her changing clothes in Jack's room with him passed out on the bed, thinking they've witnessed an unsavory dalliance.

The last extended sequence is emotionally gripping, though doesn't make a whole lot of logical sense. David is shot down during a mission, crashing in German territory. Gravely wounded, he makes his way to a German airfield and steals a plane. Meanwhile Jack, believing his friend dead, goes on a mad killing spree. Seeing David's plane approaching, he peppers it with fire -- somehow missing David's frantic signals. After David crashes into a house, Jack lands nearby to collect a trophy and discovers he's killed his best friend.

The moment is genuinely touching ... though the final sequence after Jack returns home is somewhat maudlin and unlikely. Jack -- having managed to obtain gray hair in between his mustering out and traveling to his hometown -- begs forgiveness from David's parents, giving the mother the tiny stuffed bear David carried with him as a good luck charm. (Of course, he left it behind during his ill-fated final mission.) Having received absolution, Jack meets up with Mary and realizes he's loved her all along.

Gary Cooper shows up for about two minutes as Cadet White, in one of his first major screen roles. It's an electric moment, and I found his more naturalistic acting style in sharp contrast to the stiff antics of Rogers and Arlen.

I very much enjoyed "Wings," even as I realized it was a product of its time. Perhaps the time is now right for a remake?

It was thought for many years that "Wings" had been lost to the ages, but a negative was found and restored. The film is being released on DVD and Blu-ray for the first time tomorrow, Jan. 24. It's a first-class restoration -- they even used different film stocks for the day and night scenes, with sepia for the former and a bluish tint for nighttime.

In addition to the musical score, the soundtrack also includes a number of sound effects -- plane engines, machine guns firing, cannon explosions and so forth. These were actually played during the film's initial release using then-new technology.

The filmmakers also hand-tinted frames to show planes plummeting to earth in flames. The effect is rather primitive, but lends a great deal of authenticity to the air combat.

3 stars out of four

Review: "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close"

2012-01-18T01:28:00.012-05:00

"Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close" is not the story of a conventional Everyman as a child -- Oskar Schell is no Everyboy.

No, Oskar is an extraordinary lad -- a smart, painfully shy boy. His only really deep human connection is with his father (Tom Hanks), who recognizes the specialness of his child not as a disadvantage to be regretted but an opportunity to draw him closer and nudge Oskar toward a rich life shared with others. Thomas Schell was a failed biochemist who became a jeweler, but whose real occupation was a Biblical sort of shepherd, tending to a flock of one.

But the elder Schell dies in the 9/11 attack on the World Trade Center, and Oskar is left utterly alone. True, his mother (Sandra Bullock) is technically present, but Oskar correctly labels her an absentee parent. That's the sort of kid Oskar is: he knows what an absentee parent is, and he's hurting so badly inside he lashes out at his mother by telling her to her face that she's a failed mom.

"Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close" is based on the novel by Jonathan Safran Foer, adapted for the screen by Eric Roth ("Forrest Gump") and directed by Stephen Daldry, who has made four feature films, all of which I've loved ("The Hours," "The Reader" and "Billy Elliot" are the previous three.)

It is not a movie that consciously tries to be "the" film about 9/11 -- what Oskar refers to simply as "The Worst Day." But in its stark exploration of wrenching loss and the capricious way human lives collide with each other, it best captures the emotional vacuum felt by an entire nation more than 11 years ago, and to a lessening degree since.

Oskar's father often assigned adventurous tasks, or "expeditions" to him. Ostensibly scientific undertakings, they were really exercises designed to force Oskar to interact with new people and explore the real world around him. Precocious and earnest, Oskar recognizes the true meaning of these assignments, but still tackles them with enthusiasm because he so adores his father.

Shortly before his death, Oskar's dad set before him the grandest expedition of all: discovering the mythical 6th borough of Manhattan. This mission takes on new meaning when the boy discovers a key hidden inside a vase in his father's untouched closet. Unmarked, with only the cryptic word "Black" printed on a piece of paper, Oskar concludes this clue must unlock the puzzle of Thomas Schell's death.

With great deliberateness, Oskar sets out to the far reaches of New York City, attempting to interview every person named Black to see if they know about the mystery of the key. Since Oskar suffers panic attacks at the mere prospect of mass transit, he will walk everywhere he needs to go on his free Saturdays. He calculates it will take him three years, which in his unadorned narration Oskar recognizes is his way of extending the time he gets to spend with his father, or at least his fading memory.

With such a non-traditional protagonist, I was not surprised to learn that Thomas Horn, the amazing young actor who portrays him, came to this film project in an atypical way. This is his first acting credit of any sort; he was discovered after winning a tournament of "Teen Jeopardy" at the age of 12. Like Hailee Steinfeld in "True Grit" or Haley Joel Osment in "The Sixth Sense," this is the sort of performance that feels almost ethereal is its ability to tap such emotional depths and complex inner thoughts in one so young.

Other able performers turn up in supporting roles. Viola Davis plays the first woman Oskar encounters in his travels, one who has suffered her own recent loss. Jeffrey Wright plays a businessman mourning the death of his own father. John Goodman is the security guard at Oskar's building who trades good-natured insults with him. Max von Sydow turns up as the mysterious, silent man living as a renter in his grandmother's apartment right across the way, who takes an unexpected role in the boy's quest.

Bullock's role as the distraught mother struggling to come to grips with her son's odd acting out would seem to be a thankless one, but later on she shines a new light on their relationship that shocks even young Oskar.

"Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close" hasn't been in the conversation of the best films of the year, but it deserves to be. It's a viscerally enthralling story about a singular boy trying to find his place in the world when his only anchor is ripped away. What a journey -- Oskar's, and ours.

3.5 stars out of four

The proper proportions of optimism, realism, cynicism and negativism

2012-01-17T20:36:00.000-05:00

The Recipe for Success must include the proper proportions of optimism, realism, cynicism and negativism.

You need lots of optimism to dream up all the possibilities of things you can accomplish.

A goodly amount of realism is necessary to help you figure out which of those are the best ones to pursue.

Even a dollop of cynicism is a good thing, because it helps you learn from your mistakes and make better choices.

But even a pinch of negativism puts everything at risk, threatening to instill a bitter taste in all your endeavors. Best to leave it in the cupboard.

Video Review: "The Ides of March"

2012-01-17T04:06:00.010-05:00

"The Ides of March" is an ambitious, well-executed political drama that loses points because if its utter lack of freshness. From the inspiring presidential candidate with secret dark spots, to the ambitious campaign insiders and journalists ready to cut throats to get ahead, to the naive young thing who gets caught up in the crossfire, there's virtually nothing in this movie that we haven't seen before.

George Clooney directed, co-wrote and has a supporting role in "Ides" as Mike Morris, a liberal governor who's the frontrunner for the race to the White House. Ryan Gosling stars as Stephen Myers, Morris' number-two man behind grizzled political veteran Paul Zara (Philip Seymour Hoffman).

Paul Giamatti plays the campaign manager for Morris' main opponent, who's got an ace up his sleeve as they head into the Ohio primary. Rounding out the cast are Marisa Tomei as a sly New York Times reporter and Evan Rachel Wood as a 20-year-old campaign volunteer who catches Stephen's eye.

That's a killer cast, and Clooney knows exactly how to exploit it, resulting in many winning scenes of dueling repartee and clashing egos. It's during these times that the movie reminds one of other, better political flicks like "The Candidate" or "Primary Colors."

But the screenplay by Clooney, his longtime collaborator Grant Heslov and Beau Willimon, based on a play by Willimon, continually goes down paths far too well-traveled. The audience knows almost everything that's going to happen long before it transpires.

Inevitability is a quality that may work when it comes to winning elections, but it turns otherwise promising films into cinematic also-rans.

Extra features aren't a landslide, but certainly make a solid showing that should please the electorate of video lovers.

The DVD version comes with a commentary track by Clooney and Heslov, plus two featurettes: "Believe: George Clooney" and "On the Campaign: The Cast of Ides of March."

Upgrade to Blu-ray, and you get two more featurettes: "Developing the Campaign: The Origin of Ides of March" and "What Does a Political Consultant Do?".

Movie: 2.5 stars out of four
Extras: 3 stars

Reeling Backward: "Air Force" (1943)

2012-01-16T01:59:00.122-05:00

Written and shot in the heady days after Pearl Harbor, "Air Force" is a cheery bit of war propaganda that struck a chord with audiences when it was released in early 1943, less than 14 months after the surprise Japanese attack. The fictional tale of the intrepid crew of the B-17 "Mary-Ann" in the days before and after Dec. 7, 1941, it was a box office hit, earned a slew of Oscar nominations (including Best Screenplay) and became a rallying call for the war effort.

Seen today, though, it's a borderline cringe-worthy drama in which American soldiers seem extraordinarily giddy about the prospect of near-certain death, coupled with some terrible special effects miniatures that scarcely look better than cousin Johnny's toy planes and ships blown up with firecrackers.

Throw in some nasty anti-Japanese sentiment, virulent even by the standards of the time, and you've got a war film that has aged exceedingly poorly.

Perhaps most disturbing are several references put in during the Pearl Harbor attack scenes of "local Japanese" or "native Japanese" -- aka Japanese-Americans -- engaging in preplanned sabotage or attacks coordinated with the surprise air strike. Subsequent investigations proved that such claims were completely unfounded.

Though screenwriter Dudley Nichols, who received uncredited assists from Leah Baird, William Faulkner and Arthur T. Horman, cannot be entirely faulted for these harmful scenes -- which doubtless contributed to the xenophobic paranoia that helped justify the mass internment of Japanese-Americans. They were working on the movie in the weeks and months after Pearl Harbor, with the script being altered on the fly to reflect the shifting realities of war.

As a result, a number of historical inaccuracies crept into the story -- such as the B-17 crew flying to Manila, when in fact U.S. troops in the Philippines retreated to Australia shortly after the outbreak of hostilities.

"Air Force" is named after the flying division of the U.S. Army, which didn't get split off into a separate military branch until after the war. Curiously, the studio chose to showcase the Mary-Ann as the real star of the picture, despite a large and able cast of B-list stars and character actors.

John Ridgely plays the skipper, Capt. Michael "Irish" Quincannon, who's the perfect mix of inspiration command. Gig Young (an Oscar winner for "They Shoot Horses, Don't They?") is the trusty co-pilot. Arthur Kennedy, who I'll always remember as the crusty journalist from "Lawrence of Arabia," is the bombadier. Charles Drake turns up as the navigator with daddy issues, George Tobias is the obligatory New Yawkah crewman, and Harry Carey has a nice turn as the elder crew chief.

Rounding things out are James Brown as "Tex" Rader, a fighter pilot who enjoys a good-natured rivalry with the B-17 crew, and John Garfield as Winocki, the cynical gunner.

It's the familiar mix of characters you see in wartime movies, complete with the green young kid, etc. Winocki is the most interesting, since he was a pilot trainee who got washed out of flight school by Quincannon a couple of years earlier, and has a huge chip on his shoulder. His stint in the Army is set to expire three weeks after Pearl Harbor, but it doesn't take too many guesses to know he undergoes a change.

It's that insipid, familiar everybody's-a-swell-guy syndrome, except for the one not-so-swell guy, who later migrates in a swelltherly direction.

My biggest problem with the depiction of the Americans forces is that everyone's just so damn happy all the time! I quickly grew tired of all the aw-shucks smiles and playful bantering, and men cracking jokes even as they know they're about to be overrun by the Japanese. One commanding officer of a tiny island, already grievously wounded, is offered a flight out on the Mary-Ann and refuses with, of course, a joke and a smile.

The combat scenes range from a few decent aerial sections to absolutely horrible. The miniatures of battleships and carriers at sea are entirely unconvincing, as are the numerous shots of planes taking off and landing. There's just no weight to the images -- we can sense the lack of immense inertia from these great steel beasts.

The stuff up in the air is better, with some actual dogfight footage spliced in with decent special-effects shots of enemy planes seen through the gunners' doors. We get a real sense of how a B-17 crew works together -- the gunner on one side shouting out when a target is about to pass over to the other -- and I can't help but think this movie influenced George Lucas when he was shooting the first "Star Wars" film.

War is terrible, but as seen in "Air Force" it's one great big smarmy smilefest, with toy airplanes.

2 stars out of four

Review: "Contraband"

2012-01-12T01:13:00.005-05:00

Here's a tidy little heist/thriller starring Mark Wahlberg doing what he does best: Playing the lone wolf vying against the various forces arrayed against him. Lately Wahlberg's roles have gravitated more toward characters motivated to protect his family, rather than just watching his own back.

But once things get going, it's all about Wahlberg out-muscling and out-thinking his enemies. He specializes in playing the underdog who always seems to gain the upper hand.

"Contraband" is based, very loosely, on an Icelandic film about a smuggler, and is directed by Baltasar Kormákur, who was the star and one of the producers of the earlier movie. I admit I've never heard of the star of a foreign movie directing an American actor in the Hollywood remake. (Imagine Noomi Rapace tapped to helm the American version of "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.")

"Contraband" has misplaced aspirations toward something a little deeper, with a fine cast that includes Ben Foster, Giovanni Ribisi, Diego Luna and J.K. Simmons.

It's a rather large and motley crew of characters, good guys and bad guys and bad guys pretending to be good guys. Walberg is Chris Faraday, the lone good guy who plays at being a bad guy.

The former king of smugglers who went straight, Chris is lured/forced into the quintessential One Last Job when his young brother-in-law (Caleb Landry Jones) screws up a shipment, tossing a batch of drugs overboard when his ship is interdicted. The local drug kingpin, Tim Briggs, is played by Ribisi, who has a flair for skeevy malevolence. Briggs makes it clear that unless Chris covers the loss, Faraday's family will be targeted.

Kate Beckinsale has the thankless role as the wife, Kate, whose job is to look pretty and vulnerable, try to talk Chris out of going back to crime, and never do anything logical. After Briggs invades her home, threatens her sons with a gun and drives a truck through her hair salon, you'd think Kate would've learned 9-1-1 on her keypad.

Instead, she turns to Chris' best friend Sebastian for help. A former partner in crime, Sebastian sets up Chris' job but doesn't accompany him on the trip to Panama. He's played by Ben Foster, who also does skeevy pretty well.

Just to show what a good bad guy Chris is, he refuses to smuggle drugs in order to pay back Briggs, opting instead to bring in counterfeit dollar bills. This presents a logistical nightmare, since the amount of funny money needed will practically fill its own storage container. But Chris is the master of subterfuge, nicknamed Houdini for his ability to slip past other criminals and the law.

On most any level of serious consideration, "Contraband" isn't a particularly good movie. Its plot twists telegraph themselves pretty clearly, and every performer other than Wahlberg is only afforded a few scenes to piece together any depth to their characters.

But darn it, I just couldn't help having fun. The action goes all over the place, so that at one point Chris gets recruited into a Panamanian armored car robbery -- the heist within the heist. (Actually, there's yet another layer of theft, which I'll leave the audience to discover.)

J.K. Simmons is a hoot as the truculent ship's captain, who's not so much offended that a known smuggler like Chris is running an operation on his boat as the fact that he wasn't cut in on the scam.

"Contraband" may not be anybody's idea of great filmmaking, but with its scene-stealing cast, a few clever potboiler scenes and another sturdy performance from Wahlberg, it left me pleasantly snookered.

3 stars out off our

Review: "The Iron Lady"

2012-01-11T02:20:00.013-05:00

"The Iron Lady" is a fairly standard biopic containing an extraordinary performance. That it is by Meryl Streep is not surprising; I'd say she has made a career resurgence in her 50s and early 60s, except she never really experienced a lull. Streep arguably occupies the place where Morgan Freeman sat 15 years ago: America's greatest living film actor.

The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Science might as well give her a nomination now. This would be her 17th Oscar nod, a number so astounding its impact is dwarfed only by the fact that her last win was in 1983, for "Sophie's Choice."

Based on her riveting, spot-on turn as British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, I'd say her dry spell for taking home golden statues may well come to an end.

I often feel that with movies of this sort, containing a performance that is so dominating and full-bodied, the film around it tends to suffer. Like Jamie Foxx in "Ray" or Philip Seymour Hoffman in "Capote," Streep's gravitational pull is so powerful, story arcs and secondary characters tend to get sucked into the vortex.

Only Jim Broadbent, giving his own golden-caliber turn as Thatcher's long-suffering husband Denis, is given time to add more than perfunctory notes.

Most films about politicians tend to shy away from the politics -- especially when they don't sync up with Hollywood's leftist tilt. Director Phyllida Lloyd and screenwriter Abi Morgan make the bold and I think proper choice to put Thatcher's Conservative party ideals front and center to the story.

The movie isn't a diatribe for right-wing political conclusions, but shows how Thatcher's self-reliant upbringing and tendency to demand the best of those around her colored her way of thinking. In an age awash in self-reflection and where the slacker mentality is idolized, this portrait of the vinegary Thatcher and her stern exhortations has a sort of bracing throw-back freshness.

"It used to be about trying to do something," an elderly Thatcher complains to an admirer. "Now it's about trying to be someone."

The story unspools with old, doddering Thatcher reflecting on her life in flashback. Alexandra Roach plays young Thatcher, a grocer's daughter who ran for Parliament at age 24 (and lost). Over time, though, she gains standing until she believes it's time to run for leader of her party -- not because she thinks she can win, but because she wants to bolster ideals she believes have grown flabby.

In the modern sections, Denis Thatcher has long been dead, but Margaret still talks to him (raising great concern on the part of her handlers). On a conscious level, she knows he's not there, but her soul so aches for his companionship that she refuses to dismiss his apparition.

Ever the chameleon, Streep is made up to resemble Thatcher rather closely, including that famous swoop of helmet hair. She gets the iconic voice just right, a squeaky goose's honk that she employed to scold and argue her point. Once scene, showing her receiving vocal training in preparation for her national campaign, has (deliberate?) similarities to last year's "The King's Speech."

I thoroughly enjoyed "The Iron Lady," or more rather I enjoyed watching Streep embody Margaret Thatcher with a convincing mix of steel and velvet. This is a movie that contains greatness, though it never quite reaches it.

3 stars out of four

Review: "Carnage"

2012-01-11T01:40:00.008-05:00

Films based on stage plays are never hard to spot. There's the compressed cast, the static location and the carefully bookended world that exists around the characters. Perhaps most recognizably, and often to the detriment of adapting a work from stage to screen, is the theatricality -- the artifice -- of the proceedings.

"Carnage" is a wonderfully acted drama about two sets of parents, played by Kate Winslet, Christoph Waltz, Jodie Foster and John C. Reilly. That's three Oscar winners and an Oscar nominee, folks.

As one might expect from such a dazzling cast, and one led by an expert director like Roman Polanski, the performances are a delight. The parents, Michael and Penelope Longstreet (Reilly and Foster) and Nancy and Alan Cowan (Winslet and Waltz), are brought together by a serious brawl between their 11-year-old sons.

Outwardly, everyone is trying to act maturely and magnanimously, endeavoring to resolve the situation without resorting to lawsuits and hysterics. Soon, though, things devolve into a quagmire of clashing egos, ulterior motives and two marriages that have carefully spackled over their deep fault lines.

"Carnage" is based on the play by Yasmina Reza, who co-wrote the screenplay with Polanski. The dialogue is sharp and stealthy, as four smart Manhattan parents reveal the bile and loathing hidden by their upper-class veneer.

The problem is, I never for a moment bought these characters as real people. As much as I often enjoyed basking in their verbal parries and thrusts, the action is always kept at emotional arm's length, as we watch these carefully constructed creatures run through their paces with all the surprises of a pre-programmed automaton.

Still, the performers themselves are nearly worth the price of admission.

Penelope is a politically correct, New Age-y type with a carefully cultivated sense of victimhood. She takes her boy's injury (the loss of two teeth) personally, and is not looking for revenge, but abject contrition. When she fails to receive it, it uncorks some serious anger beneath the placid surface.

(It's notable that the avowed peace-lover is the only one of the foursome who resorts to violence as things grow tense.)

Mike is garrulous and friendly, always ready to be seen as the mediator of conflict. But his blustery personality hides some troubling issues, from the minor (a pathological fear of his daughter's hamster) to the major (declaring marriage and children the bane of manhood).

Nancy is an investment broker, carefully coiffed and mannered, who's eternally vexed at Alan's eternal interruptions to talk business on his cell phone. A high-profile lawyer, he's handling a huge case in between needling the Longstreets.

Alan is the most mercenary of the bunch, making it quite plain he considers the spat between their sons an overblown waste of his time. But in some ways he's also the most honest, since he doesn't bother to hide the selfish instincts the others work hard to conceal.

Everything plays out in a crisp 79-minute encounter in the Longstreets' apartment, punctuated by conversations about the Darfur atrocity, the best kind of toilet mechanism and an impressive spew of vomit onto some rare art books.

"Carnage" works better when seen as a master class in acting than a workable, believable story.

2.5 stars out of four

Video review: "Moneyball"

2012-01-10T03:21:00.005-05:00

I truly believe Brad Pitt gave the performance of his career in "Moneyball," far outpacing his overrated work in the pedantic "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button."

Playing Billy Beane, the general manager of the dirt-poor Oakland A's baseball club, Pitt shows layers and nuance that have been missing in his previous straightforward acting turns.

Billy is outwardly brash, even cocky in the face he presents to the his organization, the media and even his family. He has to, when he's trying to beat teams that can spend three times as much on player salaries. Inside, he's a nervous wreck who's convinced he's cursed.

With the help of a socially awkward young computer genius, Peter Brand (Jonah Hill), Billy institutes the then-radical concept of sabermetrics. Essentially, this means jettisoning tried-and-true methods for evaluating players and instead relying on complex mathematical algorithms to determine the best team to be had at the lowest price.

Soon Billy and his apprentice have assembled a cast of players who are over the hill, injured or playing out of position -- what Peter dubs "an island of misfit toys." After some initial stumbles, they start racking up W's.

Director Bennett Miller and screenwriters Aaron Sorkin and Steve Zaillian succeeded in making a baseball movie with very little baseball, where the real action happens not on the diamond but in the executive offices.

Video extras are a solid base hit, but they failed to put some mustard on the offerings.

At least the basic DVD edition has a few nice features -- it's so common nowadays to find all the good stuff saved for the Blu-ray. The "Moneyball" DVD comes with a making-of documentary, a feature on the real-life Billy Beane, blooper real with Pitt and Hill, and a number of deleted scenes.

The Blu-ray version adds a featurette on selecting the movie's cast and crew and another about adapting a non-fiction sports book into a feature film. There's also a preview for the 2012 season of the "MLB" video game series.

Movie: 3.5 stars out of four
Extras: 2.5 stars out of four

Reeling Backward: "The Scalphunters" (1968)

2012-01-09T04:15:00.148-05:00

One of the pleasures of doing the Reeling Backward column is discovering new talents I hadn't heard about before, or rediscovering new aspects of actors and filmmakers with whom I had some familiarity.

I've enjoyed finding more films from Ossie Davis' long movie career, and I encountered another delightful performance in 1968's "The Scalphunters." It was Sydney Pollack's third feature film credit after his TV apprenticeship, an enjoyable Western comedy about a grizzled fur trader (Burt Lancaster,) an educated slave out of his element (Davis), some enterprising American Indians with their own peculiar take on capitalism, and the aforementioned scalphunters.

In a previous column, I marveled at Davis' ability to play a young soldier in "The Hill," despite being nearly age 50 at the time. The year "The Scalphunters" came out, Davis turned 51, yet convincingly portrayed a character much younger.

I think I figured out Davis' trick: He simply declined to age, until he reached the point in his career that he felt ready to tackle older-man roles. Talk about Method.

Lancaster is ostensibly the lead, Joe Bass, but it's worth nothing that he largely disappears from the center of the movie, residing both literally figuratively on the periphery of the story. During this time Joseph Lee, a cagey slave who plays the underhanded motives of the white people against each other, takes the limelight.

In terms of narrative, there isn't much of one. A trapper, Bass has his winter's worth of fur pelts stolen from him by a Kiowa chief named Two Crows (Armando Silvestre, a Mexican actor who makes for a charismatic but unconvincing Indian). As payment, they give him Joseph Lee, whom they had captured from the Comanches.

Bass, with Lee in tow, follows the Kiowa with the intention of stealing back his furs, when the Indians are attacked by a large group of marauders led by Jim Howie (Telly Savalas). Indian scalps are worth $25 apiece, and Howie and his gang are the sort to acquire money in whatever way they can get it. Bass' mule laden with furs is merely a bonus.

After slipping down a cliff wall, Lee is captured by Howie, who figures he'll fetch $1,500 at the slave auction before they move on to Mexico and out of the reach of the long arm of the law. Lee, who realizes slavery is abolished south of the border, begins ingratiating himself with Howie and his mistress, Kate (Shelley Winters), in hopes of accompanying them entire way to freedom.

Meanwhile, Bass shadows the wagon train, attempting through various means to get back his furs. The most clever of these is poisoning the next water hole with locoweed, so the group's horses bolt and go crazy, killing several men.

Even though story-wise there really isn't much going on, I so enjoyed the four main actors in their roles. Lancaster does his wonderful high-low thing, playing a man of dubious cultural refinement who somehow seems to retain his sense of human grace. He's an illiterate liar who isn't above stealing and fighting dirty, but by gods, he reasons, at least he doesn't trade scalps for a living. The man's stubbornness is his calling card, and his curse.

Telly Savalas had one of those careers where he could play lecherous villains and noble heroes, and yet the characters had a similar through-line. His Jim Howie is not a truly dastardly man -- he does evil things not because he enjoys them, but because they profit him. And profit is all that Howie truly cherishes. Even his relationship to Kate is largely transactional: She figures he's the best chance she's got at a lifetime of comfort, and he gets regular sex and companionship.

It is a marvel to me that anyone, anywhere, at any time ever considered Shelley Winters an attractive woman. With a brassy attitude, screechy voice, three chins and a girdle that groans mightily at its task, Kate is a walking study in repulsion. She at least treats Joseph Lee with something like compassion, seeing him as a more refined companion than Jim Howie -- especially since he's servile and doesn't hit her.

But Ossie Davis' Joseph Lee is the star that makes "The Scalphunters" shine brightly. I loved the way Davis delivers his dialogue, in bright, clipped readings of perfect enunciation and diction. His voice carries almost like he's on a stage and trying to reach the back row.

I shivered with delight whenever he addressed Joe Bass, calling "Mr. Baaasss!!" with a rising crescendo. That over-the-top enthusiasm hides a mountain of obsequiousness, of course, but that is the plight when you are a slave at the mercy of people far less intelligent than yourself.

It could have been just a minor piffle, but Ossie Davis and the rest of the cast transform "The Scalphunters" into a joyous comedic reverie on the dusty plains of the West.

3 stars out of four

2012 movie preview

2012-01-05T07:19:00.000-05:00

"Baggins, we loves it, we loves it, we loves it forever!"

For super-fans of J.R.R. Tolkien and the film trilogy based on "The Lord of the Rings," 2012 can be summed up this way: the arrival of "The Hobbit," and a bunch of other movies.

With the "Harry Potter" series all wrapped up and the "Twilight" franchise sputtering to an end, there's nothing bigger on the cinematic calendar than the prequel to "LotR," which (in a familiar move) is being split in two.

Super-heroes will flex even more muscle this year, with "Spider-Man" seeing a reboot and the latest Batman iteration attempting to outdo "The Dark Knight." A potential new roster of heroes rises with "The Avengers," who could potentially ride this thing into the 2020s.

Here is a look at the year in movies, with personal favorites starred. (Release dates can and will change.)

*Red Tails (Jan. 20) -- Terrence Howard and Cuba Gooding Jr. star in this WWII action/drama based on the exploits of the all-black Tuskegee Airmen.

The Grey (Jan. 27) -- Liam Neeson, rejuvenated as an action hero, leads a group of oil drillers stranded in Alaska and hunted by wolves.

W.E. (Feb. 3) -- Madonna (yes, that Madonna) wrote and directed this dramatic take on the affair between England's King Edward VIII and an American divorcée.

The Woman in Black (Feb. 3) -- Daniel Radcliffe tests the post-Harry Potter waters in this supernatural period thriller.

Safe House (Feb. 10) -- Denzel Washington goes deliciously bad again playing a criminal held prisoner in a CIA facility overseen by rookie agent Ryan Reynolds.

Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance (Feb. 17) -- Nicolas Cage opts for a sequel of perhaps his most craptastic cinematic effort -- and that's saying something.

The Secret World of Arrietty (Feb. 17) -- A Disney animation effort in the Japanese anime mold about a family of tiny people discovered by big people.

This Means War (Feb. 17) -- Spy action/comedy about two agents who discover they're dating the same woman. Starring Reese Witherspoon, Tom Hardy and Chris Pine.

Wanderlust (Feb. 24) -- Jennifer Aniston and Paul Rudd play Manhattanites who lose their jobs and end up in a free-love commune.

Dr. Seuss' The Lorax (March 2) -- The good doctor's lesser-known titles haven't fared so well as animated adaptations. Taylor Swift and Zac Efron provide voices.

*Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (March 2) -- Could be the year's first big action tentpole, with Jeremy Renner and Gemma Arterton as post-fairy tale arse-kickers.

*The Raven (March 9) -- John Cusack stars in this highly fictionalized take on the life of Edgar Allen Poe, recast as a hunter of serial killers.

Mirror Mirror (March 16) -- The first of two very liberal Snow White adaptations, this one starring Lily Collins with Julia Roberts as the evil queen.

*The Hunger Games (March 23) -- A ton of expectations are waiting for this film version of the Suzanne Collins YA novel about a world where teens fight to the death on TV.

Wrath of the Titans (March 30) -- Sequel to the remake of "Clash of the Titans"; Perseus goes to hell to rescue Zeus. Let's hope the 3D is better.

The Three Stooges (April 13) -- Still sounds like a bad joke, but the Farrelly Brothers (remember them?) go retro looking for some nyucks.

*The Avengers (May 4) -- Four super-heroes previously featured in their own films (Thor, Captain America, Iron Man and The Hulk) team up with some new recruits to battle Loki, the evil god of tricks.

Dark Shadows (May 11) -- Johnny Depp and Tim Burton team up again for a movie version of the cheesy TV show about vampires.

The Dictator (May 11) -- Prankmeister Sacha Baron Cohen's latest stars himself as a fictional Middle Eastern potentate who comes to America.

Battleship (May 18) -- The desktop game becomes a CGI-laden action flick with ships and spaceships. The trailer produced much mockery.

Men in Black 3 (May 25) -- MiB2 was one of the laziest sequels in memory -- can a 10-year layoff improve matters?

Snow White and the Huntsman (June 1) -- The second Snow White movie, and much grimier. Kristen Stewart is Snow, Charlize Theron is the queen, and Chris Hemsworth is the third wheel.

*Prometheus (June 8) -- A lot of mystery surrounds this Ridley Scott sci-fi thriller, with most people guessing it's a prequel to "Alien." Charlize Theron and Noomi Rapace star.

Jack the Giant Killer (June 15) -- Jack the Beanstalk gets the big-budget treatment from "X-Men" director Bryan Singer.

Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter (June 22) -- The first of those classic literature/horror mash-ups arrives onscreen, with Abe honestly kicking butts of blood-suckers and slave owners.

Brave (June 22) -- The newest animated film from Pixar stars their first female protagonist in a Scottish-flavored sword-and-sorcery tale.

The Amazing Spider-Man (July 3) -- Just five years after the trilogy ended, Spidey gets a reboot with an all-new cast, including Andrew Garfield as the webslinger. Could be good, but falls firmly into the "But, why?" category.

*The Dark Knight Rises (July 20) -- The Batman franchise has a huge hurdle to top the last film, which featured one of the greatest villain performances of all time. Somehow I doubt Catwoman (Anne Hathaway) and Bane will measure up to the Joker.

Total Recall (Aug. 3) -- Colin Farrell replaces Ah-nold in this remake of the 1990 sci-fi minor classic.

Argo (Sept. 14) -- Ben Affleck directed and stars in this action/drama about a CIA "exfiltration" expert tasked with getting six Americans out of Iran during the revolution.

Looper (Sept. 28) -- This sci-fi thriller stars Joseph Gordon-Levitt as a time-traveling hitman who realizes his next target is his future self (Bruce Willis).

Frankenweenie (Oct. 5) -- Tim Burton remakes his first short film as a stop-animation feature about a boy who jolts his dead dog back to life.

Gangster Squad (Oct. 19) -- This highly stylized look at the fight to keep New York mobsters out of 1940s Los Angeles stars Ryan Gosling, Emma Stone, Sean Penn and Josh Brolin.

Wreck-It Ralph (Nov. 12) -- The bad guy of a video game wants to be the hero in this Disney animated flick.

Skyfall (Nov. 9) -- This long-delayed James Bond flick arrives with Daniel Craig battling a villain (Ralph Fiennes) from M's (Judi Dench) past. Sam Mendes directs.

The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn -- Part 2 (Nov. 16) -- Vampire lovers and werewolf enemies face off against nosferatu royalty in the culmination of the often-hootworthy series.

Gravity (Nov. 21) -- Sandra Bullock plays an astronaut stranded in space trying to get back to Earth and her daughter. With George Clooney.

Rise of the Guardians (Nov. 21) -- Fall's big animation tentpole finds mythical creatures (Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, Jack Frost, Tooth Fairy) ganging up to fight the Bogeyman.

Les Miserables (Dec. 7) -- Victor Hugo's epic novel has been made into numerous films, but this version is based on the Broadway musical. Starring Hugh Jackman.

*The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (Dec. 14) -- Peter Jackson wove magic with "Lord of the Rings," and there's no reason to expect less from the prequel tale. Boring Bilbo Baggins sets off on an adventure with a baker's dozen of dwarves, acquires some jewelry and sees the world. The second half, subtitled "There And Back Again," arrives in 2013.

*World War Z (Dec. 21) -- Based on the best-selling book that takes a serious, sober look at a zombie apocalypse. Starring Brad Pitt.

Django Unchained (Dec. 25) -- Jamie Foxx stars in this Civil War-era actioner from Quentin Tarantino, as a slave-turned-bounty hunter takes the fight to a Mississippi plantation.

The Great Gatsby (Dec. 25) -- Leonardo DiCaprio plays the title role and Carey Mulligan is Daisy in this ambitious adaptation of the F. Scott Fitzgerald book.

*Lincoln (December) -- Steven Spielberg tackles the life of Abraham Lincoln, with Daniel Day-Lewis in the title role. Less a biopic than a portrait of leadership during America's darkest days.

Review: "Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy"

2012-01-04T02:14:00.007-05:00

Like its main character, George Smiley, "Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy" plays its cards very close to its vest -- too close, in fact. The result is a nearly affectless espionage tale, a Cold War spy thriller that's chilly and boasts few thrills.

Smiley is refreshingly different from the standard cinematic spy. He's in late middle age, doesn't move in very much of a hurry, eschews guns (most of the time) and has a personality so dry, it's no surprise that his wife, Anne, has left him. Wearing huge owlish eyeglasses and an unctuous mien, Gary Oldman as Smiley resembles a tobacco store clerk more than he does James Bond.

"Tinker" is based on the 1974 novel by John le Carré, unread by me, which was turned into a seven-part BBC miniseries in 1979, with Alec Guinness playing Smiley. With its dense plot and confusing maze of characters -- I was still struggling to keep the names straight by the end -- the story might have been better suited to the episodic rhythms of television than a two-hour movie.

The film begins with the fall of the leader of British Secret Intelligence Services, known only as Control (John Hurt). He had sent one of his top agents, Jim Prideaux (Mark Strong), to Hungary to learn the identity of a double agent at the very top of their leadership. The mission goes awry, Prideaux is shot, and Control and Smiley, his right-hand man, are brought down in the ensuing scandal.

But was the theory of a mole really nonsense? Suffering through a lonely forced retirement, Smiley is given a shot at redemption when the civilian leadership appoints him to learn the truth. This proves quite a challenge, since the four men Control suspected now run "the Circus," as the members of the intelligence agency refer to themselves.

They are: Percy Alleline (Toby Jones), Bill Haydon (Colin Firth), Toby Esterhase (David Dencik) and Roy Bland (Ciarán Hinds).

Alleline would seem to be the most likely suspect, since he openly challenged Control's authority and ended up assuming the position for himself. Alleline has had a great deal of success running "Witchcraft," a super-secret operation that has opened up a pipeline of information from inside the Soviet Union.

Smiley only has a few allies, including a promising young agent, Peter (Benedict Cumberbatch) and an old retiree. He catches a break when Ricki Tarr (Tom Hardy), a rakish spy who first uncovered the theory of the mole and had thought to have gone rogue, turns up at his house.

I won't try to summarize the different twists and turns of the plot, mostly because it remains a blur. It's old-school cloak-and-dagger stuff, with everyone simultaneously suspicious of each other and highly on guard.

Director Tomas Alfredson, the Swede behind the moody vampire drama "Let the Right One In" (which was followed by an American remake), and screenwriters Bridget O'Connor and Peter Straughan seem intent on crafting a film that resembles its protagonist too much.

It's one thing to have the main character be fetchingly mysterious, and quite another to have him remain a total cipher. Despite a fine performance by Oldman, George Smiley has no interior, and serves only to investigate and find things out to further the plot. Watching a movie about him is like playing chess against a computer.

2.5 stars out of four

Video review: "Contagion"

2012-01-03T01:54:00.005-05:00

"Contagion" is a well-made science fiction thriller that engages the intellect better than must such films generally do, but sometimes fails to grab our hearts along with our brains.

Director Steven Soderbergh assembles a huge cast of stars -- including Matt Damon, Kate Winslet, Gwyneth Paltrow, Laurence Fishburne, Marion Cotillard, Jude Law and Elliott Gould -- and sets them to encounter an outbreak of a deadly virus called MEV-1. The human population starts dropping like flies, and it's up to a loose consortium of scientists and government officials to race for a cure before mankind finds itself exterminated.

Screenwriter Scott Z. Burns cleverly doesn't go for the usual end-of-the-world tropes, in which the disaster is seen through the eyes of a small band of survivors. Instead, he offers a newsier docu-drama feel in which humanity's soaring grace and grimy faults are left to play out with logic and sobering authenticity.

People grow selfish and petty, and governments begin the task of coldly calculating which lives are worth saving and which are not. But amid the panic is self-sacrifice and generosity.

Even though it's better at making us think than letting audiences feel the characters' plight, "Contagion" remains an ambitious, worthy portrait of fear and hope.

Extra features are fair at best. The DVD edition comes with only a single featurette, "Contagion: How a Virus Changes the World."

Upgrade to the Blu-ray/DVD combo, and you add two more featurettes: "False Comfort Zone: The Reality of Contagion" and "The Contagion Detectives."

Obviously, that's not a lot of infectious enthusiasm on the part of the filmmakers to provide extra goodies for those who pass up the Redbox kiosk to plunk down money to add "Contagion" to their permanent video library.

Movie: 3 stars out of four
Extras: 2 stars

Reeling Backward: "Roots: Episodes IV-VI" (1977)

2012-01-02T00:26:00.105-05:00

Click here for the first part of my essay on "Roots" episodes I-III.

It took me a little longer to get through the second half of "Roots" than it did the first. Part of the reason was my schedule, but I'll admit my enthusiasm for the miniseries waned the longer it went on. If the first couple of episodes was groundbreaking television, a depiction of slavery and its terrible consequences, by the last couple go-rounds things had devolved into fairly standard soap opera-y stuff with a historical backdrop.

The last episode -- which remains the third most-watched television event -- is a borderline embarrassing litany of shenanigans and double-crosses as the descendants of Kunta Kinte, led by huckster/chicken fighter Chicken George, play a game of one-upsmanship with some local Rebs who have started a sort of proto-Ku Klux Klan.

Still, there's far more good than bad here, and I'm glad I took the time -- nine hours, minus commercial breaks -- to cross "Roots" off my to-do list.

Without getting into a rote recitation of the plot, I'd like to comment on a few things I've noticed about the series.

The first is the tendency to cast actors who start out being way too old for their parts. New members of the family are typically introduced using the adult actor while the character is in his or her teen years -- leading to some laughably incongruous assertions of youth.

Leslie Uggams, as Kunta Kinte's daughter Kizzy, was 34 when the show aired. Kizzy is first shown at age 16. Even more interesting is the heavy age make-up used for the time setting 18 years later when her son, Chicken George, has grown to manhood. At this time the character of Kizzy is the same age Uggams was in real life. Doubtless she did not have gray hair and neck wattles.

Similarly, Ben Vereen was 31 when he played young Chicken George, who is eventually shown in old age.

Georg Stanford Brown, playing Chicken George's son Tom Harvey, was also 34 when he took over his teen role. Though he was rather youthful-looking and fairly believable as a teenager.

I'm not sure if this was a conscious choice to show how hard a life slavery made for, so a 49-year-old woman is depicted as a bent old crone. More likely the producers thought it better to cast a mature actor who could pull off the role, rather than trying to coach up a teen performer and then age them decades hence.

The portrayal of white characters varies throughout the miniseries, though they become more cartoonish as time goes by. Lloyd Bridges is the main heavy of the last couple of episodes as Evan Brent, a thoroughly hateful racist who gleefully joins the Confederate Army and drives Chicken George out of the territory, despite having gained his own freedom. Brent single-handedly creates the KKK by musingly burning some holes in a flour sack with his cigar, which become eye-holes for their masks.

Evan's brother Jemmy is even more over-the-top, begging Tom Harvey's help after deserting from the army, then attempting to rape Tom's wife while he is away fetching clothes to cover Jemmy's Confederate grays.

Brad Davis is allowed a redemptive part as Old George Johnson, a scampy young white thief who is appointed overseer of the Harvey plantation but befriends the slaves, calling them his family. He ends up saving Tom's life by pretending to whip him at the orders of Brent and the other masked nightriders, when actually he flails the ground with the rawhide.

I would like to address the authenticity of "Roots," as written by Alex Haley. Historians have largely discounted the accuracy of his tale of his long-ancestor, Kunta Kinte, passing down his story and African traditions through oral history. Though Haley was always clear that the novel was a fictionalized version of his family history, he insisted the genealogical tree was as he described it.

Personally, I tend to favor his side of this argument, since written documents and histories are highly suspect when it comes to an entire people being ripped from their homeland and forced into subjugation, even adopting the surnames of their white owners. Besides, if Haley's great-great, etc. -grandfather was not Kunta Kinte, I have not doubt his story was very much like it.

More disturbing was the claim, upheld in a court of law, that Haley plagiarized "Roots" the novel from Harold Courlander's "The African." Indeed, the similarities were hard to ignore, and made worse by the fact that several sections of text were repeated virtually verbatim.

The judge in the case even told the BBC, "Alex Haley perpetrated a hoax on the public." Maybe, but it made for some great, memorable television.

3 stars out of four

Video review: "Hostel: Part III"

2011-12-27T02:02:00.019-05:00

The Tuesday after Christmas is a notoriously awful spot for releasing video, and a strange tradition has sprung up of releasing grade-Z horror flicks on this date. This year is no different: audiences can take their choice of "Hostel: Part III," "Final Destination 5" or "Zombie Apocalypse," along with a couple other low-profile films ("A Good Old Fashioned Orgy") that barely got theatrical releases.

So while admitting that we're scraping the bottom of the home video barrel here, why review "Hostel: Part III"? Because it's indicative of a couple of cinematic trends.

The first is how certain types of movies can become the "flavor of the month" ... or the year. A while back, at the height of the quagmire in Iraq, it was the so-called "torture porn" subgenre of horror, kicked off by "Saw" and brought to its gruesome, bloody pinnacle with Eli Roth's "Hostel" series.

With a fetishistic obsession with the cruel mangling of the human body -- rendered in unflinching, splattered special effects -- these flicks brought the reality of war home to a largely disconnected audience that lapped it up with voyeuristic relish. The first movie, shot in 2006 on a shoestring, made $80 million in worldwide ticket sales, and was followed by an obligatory sequel the next year, which wasn't nearly successful.

Four years hence arrives the third go-round, minus the involvement of Roth, with the action transplanted from the remote dankness of Eastern Europe to the neon buzz of Las Vegas, accompanied by a familiar roster of handsome young people looking for a party and finding themselves strapped to a gurney in a torture chamber, their tender flesh grist for the mill of a very elite form of twisted entertainment.

I count myself a horror fan, but there just isn't much about "Hostel: Part III" that's truly terrifying.

The other trend this movie is indicative of is revealed by the fact that it arrives straight to video. Sequels are rarely as good as the original film, because the animating urge to make a good movie is overridden by the desire for more or less guaranteed success, and the associated dollars. This process continues, with or without the assistance of the original team of filmmakers and stars, so long as the moneychangers calculate there is enough profit to support the endeavor.

Much like antiquated businesses that seek only to manage decline, maximizing short-term gains by giving up on the prospect of long-term viability, movies franchises like "Hostel" are rarely innovative because those in charge have essentially already given up.

Video extras for "Hostel: Part III," the same for DVD and Blu-ray, consist entirely of a commentary track by director Scott Spiegel and star Kip Pardue.

Movie: 1.5 stars out of four
Extras: 1.5 star

Reeling Backward: "Roots: Parts I-III" (1977)

2011-12-26T00:48:00.105-05:00

Something that's been on my bucket list for quite a long time is to see "Roots," the iconic 1977 television miniseries based on the best-selling novel by Alex Haley. Even today, its finale ranks as the third most-watched TV episode of all time. Missing out on it for someone of my generation is akin to never seeing the last episode of "M*A*S*H*" or the movie "Grease."

Yes, I know this is a website for movie criticism, but I have made television exceptions for Reeling Backward before. And such a huge storytelling arc, unfolding over seven episodes running more than 10 hours (sans commercials), has an epic, cinematic feel to it worthy of serious consideration.

Plus, it's my damn column, so neener-neener.

I'm watching "Roots" via DVDs from Netflix -- no streaming available -- so I'm wrapping them up into three separate columns.

The first thing I want to note about "Roots" is that I have seen it -- at least a tiny bit. I saw part of the episode where African warrior-turned-slave Kunta Kinte is captured after an escape attempt, and the slave hunters cut off part of his foot to ensure he can never run away again.

I was a little kid, first grade probably, and was pretty horrified (I remember the scene being much more graphic than it really is). I don't recall if I stopped watching "Roots" because of that, or if my parents quietly ushered me out of the room and made sure I didn't see any more. That was the third episode, and I know I hadn't seen either of the first two episodes with LeVar Burton as young Kunta Kinte.

The thing I most remember about it was the next scene cuts to Kunta lying in bed with his mangled limb wrapped in bloody bandages, and Mr. Brady, playing a doctor, tends to him. Of course, it was actor Robert Reed playing the doctor, but in my young mind I instantly identified him as the kindly patrician of "The Brady Bunch." 'Mr. Brady will put this atrocity right,' I thought.

But Mr. Brady, while perturbed at the injury, only grumbles about the hunters "ruining a perfectly good piece of property." In that moment, I was gobsmacked. How could anyone see the way Kunta was cruelly maimed, and call it destruction of mere property?

But that, of course, is the lesson of slavery, the darkest stain on American history.

My own family, early transplants to the Americas, have a long history of slave ownership -- including, for a time, Frederick Douglass. We also have abolitionists on my grandmother's side of the tree. I can't claim any sense of personal guilt over my ancestors owning slaves, but "Roots" brings home the degradation and subjugation of an entire people.

LeVar Burton, just 20 when the show aired, is a revelation, bringing a mix of childlike wonder and mature nobility to the role. The scene where he is captured by slavers near his village and struggles against the chains lashed to him has an iconic, enduring quality.

I can't say that John Amos, who takes over the role of Kunta when he reaches the age of about 30, is a particularly good match for Burton. Physically, they look almost nothing alike, with the strapping, hook-nosed Amos seeming an unlikely inheritor of Burton's wispy, angelic good looks.

It also seems strange that Kunta makes almost no progression in his command of the English language in the intervening decade or so between episodes two or three.

Louis Gossett Jr. is terrific as Fiddler, an older slave who is a father figure to Kunta, teaching him the hard lessons of life on a plantation. Fiddler harbors a boiling deep anger over the fate of himself and his fellow slaves, but knuckles under to the stern overseer and causes no trouble. Still, he helps Kunta in his first escape attempt, knowing it will bring himself hardship and loss of privileges as the acknowledged leader of the slaves.

Shot for a total budget of $6 million, the production values on "Roots" are somewhat lacking at times. But for television in the mid-1970s, it probably looked astonishingly grandiose.

Obviously, I have lots more to say about "Roots," but it'll have to wait until I've watched a couple more episodes.

3.5 stars out of four

Review: "The Artist"

2011-12-23T01:16:00.011-05:00

Love, love, love!

For the first time in 2011, I have fallen, madly, for a movie. "The Artist" is a French film (but about, and largely of, Americans) that is in black-and-white and silent (!) to boot.

Never fear -- this is not a snooty art-house film intended only for people wearing black turtlenecks. It's a rapturous movie full of passion and artistry, self-aware but not self-absorbed. "The Artist" is about movie-making, in the way that great Hollywood movies have turned a loving (yet acerbic) gaze at themselves, like "Singin' in the Rain."

I cite "Singin'" because star Jean Dujardin reminded me very much of Gene Kelly in that film, with a heavy dash of Douglas Fairbanks Jr. thrown in. With a pencil mustache, slicked hair and rascal smile, he plays George Valentin, an aging matinee idol of silent films who finds his star falling with the advent of "talkies," or sound pictures.

At the same time, Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo) -- love that name -- the sparkly young ingénue who literally bumps into Valentine at one of his premiers and causes a stir, becomes the biggest light in Hollywood's new age of sound.

When I say that "The Artist" is silent, it is not of course absolutely lacking sound like the films before 1929, which were accompanied by a live orchestra or recorded music. Writer/director Michel Hazanavicius had the ingenious idea of showing us one of Valentin's movies first, operating under the familiar principle of demonstrative acting broken up by title cards for dialogue.

But then the camera pulls back to show the movie-within-a-movie being made -- but the people's mouths still flap soundlessly, and written dialogue provides their words for us.

Hazanavicius retains this charade throughout ... with two notable exceptions that fidget with the film's internal conventions.

The wonderful original score by Ludovic Bource is essential to the story, since virtually every second of film is accompanied by music. Bource also mixes in samples of scores from other movies -- the great Bernard Herrmann's eerie/gorgeous theme from "Vertigo," one of my favorite pieces of movie music, is employed beautifully in one pivotal scene.

There is a love affair between Valentin and Peppy, but it's pure and chaste. He's married, unhappily -- Penelope Ann Miller plays the wife, and the dissolution of their relationship is shown in a montage that pays homage to "Citizen Kane" -- and isn't the type to stray.

Although Valentin is undeniably a ham, and is overly fond of himself, he isn't a cad. He just loves the limelight, so when it's yanked away he folds into himself, like a flower denied the sun.

A number of recognizable American actors take supporting parts in the film, and it's a hoot to watch them attack silent acting. James Cromwell plays Valentin's doting chauffeur, who sticks by him even when his wages disappear. John Goodman is the chief at Kinograph Studios -- not an entirely bad fellow, but one who always knows where the greenbacks are. Missi Pyle plays a starlet tired of being upstaged by Valentin's showboating.

When the talkies invade, Valentin refuses to make the jump, insisting that audiences never needed to hear him talk before. It's stubborn pride, and even he knows this, but nothing can push him to compromise his artistic integrity.

It's an interesting exercise to consider exactly how serious an artist Valentin was. Truly, he made daffy little pictures in which he always played the handsome adventurer, accompanied by his smart little dog (who is his best friend in real life, too). Essentially, he starred in adventure serials that were already getting stale before sound pictures came along.

Hazanavicius harkens back to the first decades of movies -- even using the old-fashioned 1.66 aspect ratio -- with a mix of reverent nostalgia and modern ingenuity. "The Artist" isn't really a deep meditation on art and movies, but a joyful celebration of filmmaking and filmmakers.

4 stars out of four

The Best and Worst Movies of 2011

2011-12-22T08:11:00.000-05:00

It’s hard to describe 2011 as anything other than a disappointing year for movies. Most years start out slow, see a few pleasant surprises in spring, the usual mix of mega-budget hits and misses during the summer, followed by the doldrums of fall, and a busy holiday season of Oscar contenders and blockbuster tentpoles.

But 2011 never achieved liftoff. A deserted February through April gave way to a particularly weak summer. And the late-year pickup in quality never materialized – not when the second Friday in December welcomed the fugly one-two punch of “The Sitter” and “New Year’s Eve.”

Still, some fine filmmaking took place, though audiences sometimes had to hunt around for it. Here is my take on Cinema ’11.

The Best

The Artist – The only movie to which I gave my top rating, “The Artist” is French, black-and-white and silent to boot, but it’s anything but a snooty art film. It’s a highly enjoyable ode to old-fashioned Hollywood, and the most purely rapturous emotional experience I had at any movie this year.
A Better Life – I very much enjoyed this little immigrant story by director Chris Weitz and writer Eric Eason when it first came to theaters – leaving quickly with hardly a trace – and it’s only grown in my estimation since. It’s an homage to “The Bicycle Thief” that leaves aside the politics of illegal immigration for a very human story.
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close -- A late addition to this list, the adaptation of the Jonathan Safran Foer novel about a precocious boy dealing with the death of his father (Tom Hanks) in 9/11 is one of the most emotionally gripping journeys of the year.
Moneyball – Another movie I don’t think got its due, this terrific look at the numbers men behind baseball contains what is probably the best performance of Brad Pitt’s career, and the best screenplay of the year. An in-the-park homer.
The Skin I Live In – Pedro Almodóvar’s most unique, vibrant film in years, this kinky potboiler about a plastic surgeon and his very special patient is simultaneously disturbing and thrilling. Alfred Hitchcock would be jealous.
Rango – A weird, twisted animated film ostensibly for kids, “Rango” was easily one of the most original movies of 2011. Johnny Depp voices a lizard caught up in a Western spoof with a little (OK, lot of) Salvador Dali stirred in.
The Descendants – Alexander Payne (“Sideways”) seems to be making films on a Kubrickian time table, but this black comedy starring George Clooney as a father vexed by familial trials was well worth the wait.
The Rise of the Planet of the Apes – What looked to be a hammy spin-off of an antiquated film franchise turned out to be the best movie of the summer, a cerebral prequel to a world of damned, dirty apes. With a terrific CGI motion-capture performance by Andy Serkis.
Margin Call – Unlike some critics, I don’t relish picking obscure films just to show off my snooty bona fides. But this little-seen drama by rookie director/writer J.C. Chandor, which gives a fictional take on the economic crash that launches the Great Recession, is top-notch. Think “Glengarry Glen Ross” moved up to the executive suite.
War Horse – Steven Spielberg returns to form with this sweeping epic about a horse who must suffer through the atrocities and vagaries of World War I, separated from the boy who loves him. I dare you not to shed tears.

The Others

Making lists of favorite things is fun, but it also means leaving off worthy films that didn’t quite make the cut. Here, in alphabetical order, is my lucky 13 of the rest of the year’s best.

“The Adventures of Tintin,” "Anonymous," “Arthur,” “The Beaver,” “Coriolanus,” “Crazy, Stupid, Love,” “Drive,” “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2,” “The Help, “The Iron Lady,” “Larry Crowne,” “Sarah’s Key,” “Welcome to the Rileys,” “Win Win.”

The Worst

Amid any triumphs, there are always catastrophes. The truth is I don’t see many of the absolutely worst movies of the year, since the studios don’t screen them for critics. And, frankly, I prefer not to take time out of my weekend to catch up on “Bucky Larson: Born to Be a Star.”

But here are 10 of the most inadequate films I saw in 2011.

Green Lantern – An abject lesson in how not to make a super-hero movie. Start by trying to wrap decades of comic book mythology around the smirking star persona of Ryan Reynolds.
The Smurfs – This cringe-worthy remake of the 1980s TV cartoon follows in the “Garfield” and “Alvin and the Chipmunks” mold.
Fright Night – A terrible remake of a not-particularly-good ‘80s vampire flick. That’s a whole lot of suck.
Red Riding Hood – A sexed-up take on the classic fairy tale. They lost me during the medieval lambada scene
The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn – Part 1 – I’m no tween vampire hater; I actually gave a positive review to the previous “Twilight” flick. But this penultimate film is all exposition with no payoff.
Your Highness – Stoner comedy meets sword & sorcery. What an epic downer, man.
Friends with Benefits – Am I the only one who thinks Mila Kunis is a horrible actress? Her pairing with Justin Timberlake in this flaccid romcom didn’t bring sexy back.
Kung Fu Panda 2 – I will always remember “Kung Fu Panda 2,” because before I could brag that I never walked out of a movie and never fell a sleep during one. At least I can still say I never walked out.
I Am Number Four – This YA sci-fi/romance is like a bad mash-up of “Twilight” and “Beauty and the Beast.”
Cowboys and Aliens – Certainly not a bad movie, but tops my list for biggest disappointment. Audiences wanted tongue-in-cheek fun; we got a dreary Western with lasers.

Review: "War Horse"

2011-12-22T01:15:00.013-05:00

For a male weepie, "War Horse" doesn't shy away from what it is. Most such films hide behind a veneer of sports or other manly pursuits in spinning a tale that is designed to reduce every guy watching it to sobs.

But Steven Spielberg's new drama has all the ingredients: fathers and sons struggling to relate, brothers caught up in conflict, soldiers trading kindness amidst the bloodletting, gentle grandfathers and, especially, boys and their beloved animals.

Tears, commence being expertly jerked.

(This is not to imply that women won't weep at it -- I'm sure they will, in bucketfuls. It's just this is the rare weepie specially designed to stimulate Y-chromosome tear ducts.)

What "War Horse" does not have is a romantic component, and for that I am grateful. It's so tiresome to sit through Hollywood movies that seem to throw in a love interest for no reason at all other than brazen demographic appeal (see "Captain America: The First Avenger" for an especially egregious example).

Despite its nearly 2½-hour run time, the movie does not dally unnecessarily, on pitching unneeded woo or anything else.

The titular horse is Joey, the finest thoroughbred in all of England, who was bought for a princely sum by a broken-down old drunk of a farmer (Peter Mullan). Alas, as a result of shelling out 30 guineas for the dappled colt, the farmer does not have the money to pay his sniveling landlord (David Thewlis), who desired the horse for himself.

Of course, wiry thoroughbreds are not terribly useful for plowing fields, but the farmer's headstrong son Albert (Jeremy Irvine) insists he can train Joey to pull a tiller. This sets off the first of many great love affairs, with Joey the perpetual object of affection.

World War I arrives, and Joey is sold off to the British cavalry, breaking Albert's heart. Luckily, the lieutenant who purchases the horse to be his personal mount (Tom Hiddleston) is fine and upstanding, and promises to honor Joey with the same affection Albert did.

Alas, many things go awry during wartime. Over the next four years, Joey finds himself changing masters frequently, with prospects that rise and fall with the capricious whims of war.

For a time he is under the charge of a kindly teenage German soldier (David Kross) and his underage brother. Later, he comes into the embracing arms of a young French girl (Celine Buckens) and her wise, nurturing grandfather (Niels Arestrup).

But Joey also gets conscripted into toting massive cannons, a duty where most horses only last a month or two before collapsing and receiving a merciful bullet. And he becomes trapped in the horrors of the trench war -- a nightmarish landscape of mud, barbed wire and blood.

Based on the novel by Michael Morpurgo, the screenplay by Lee Hall and Richard Curtis -- which also draws inspiration from the Broadway play that won a raft of Tony awards earlier this year -- hits all the expected beats. But despite these rarely arriving without much surprise (one knows exactly how the film will end the entire way), they still hold a rapturous emotional pull -- assisted by John Williams' stirring score of lush strings.

Visually, "War Horse" is quite arresting. Spielberg and his longtime cinematographer, Janusz Kaminski, intentionally strike an audacious note, composing scenes of suffused color and almost painterly beauty. The effect is theatrical, with the artifice of the visuals drawing the movie out of the grim reality of war and into something like fairy tale lightness.

Because, ultimately, "War Horse" is a children's movie, or something very much like it. It appeals more to the senses and the heart than the mind. Eventually, one has to choose whether to submit to its blatant, wonderfully sad manipulations. I'm glad I did.

3.5 stars out of four

Review: "The Adventures of Tintin"

2011-12-21T01:14:00.009-05:00

A crazy quilt of over-the-top action and cartoon wonders, "The Adventures of Tintin" is the first animated film by Steven Spielberg, and hopefully not the last.

This giddy, fast-paced thrill ride defies gravity and logic as the titular character, a boy adventurer, and his pals get into one unbelievable scrape after another.

Spielberg employs 3-D motion capture technology similar to what his contemporary, Robert Zemeckis, has used in his last three films (with results varying from the wonderful "The Polar Express" to the woeful "A Christmas Carol").

The animation is absolute terrific, hitting that sweet spot in between a near-photographic representation of reality and just enough cartoony distortion to keep things above the rim of the "uncanny valley." Peter Jackson, whose Weta studio handled the animations, is a producer and reportedly will direct the next "Tintin" movie with Spielberg producing.

(It is being released in 3-D, and quite a good rendition of the much-overused cinematic trick it is. Though Spielberg has a little too much fun pointing swords, canes and other objects at the audience for gasp moments.)

Tintin looks more or less like a normal boy, except for a swoop of red hair that makes his forelock resemble a mini mohawk. The grown-ups tend to be just a little off, with oversized eyes or noses of dimensions rarely seen outside of clown college. Even though the textures are realistic -- right down to the alcohol-induced crinkles around Captain Haddock's eyes -- we never forget we're watching a cartoon.

The movie is based on the comic books by Hergé, mostly unknown here in the States but a big deal across the pond in Europe. Screenwriting trio Steven Moffat, Edgar Wright and Joe Cornish combine three of Hergé's stories into a freewheeling yarn that makes hardly a lick of sense, but isn't meant to.

Jamie Bell voices Tintin, a self-described boy journalist who seems to lack a surname or parents. For that matter, he lives by himself in a small apartment with just his rapscallion dog Snowy, has his own money and a gun to boot.

Tintin's specialty is sleuthing out big crimes, and then writing about them. (Though, strangely, all the newspaper clips he has framed in his home are other papers about his latest triumph, rather than the ones carrying his byline.) He combines an encyclopedic knowledge of history and culture with gumption and a whole lot of luck.

The end result is something like "The Da Vinci Code" meets "Raiders of the Lost Ark" meets the Hardy Boys.

Things get started when Tintin purchases an extravagant model of a 17th century ship at an open air market. Right on his heels is Ivanovich Sakharine (Daniel Craig), a peevish professorial type who wants the ship for himself. Before long gun shots have been fired, the ship reveals a clue and it's off to the races.

Tintin's journey brings him to the ship of Haddock, a drunkard whose family traces its roots back to Sir Francis Haddock, heroic captain of the Unicorn, whose vast treasure was lost in a pirate attack by the notorious Red Rackham. Both Haddocks are voiced by Andy Serkis, and a marvelous vocal performance it is, such that one would never have guessed this was the same hidden performer behind Gollum and King Kong.

Haddock's a great character, a man of conviction who doubts his own courage. In fact, in the latter half of the movie he tends to dominate to such an extent that Tintin fades into the background.

The action set pieces are as marvelous as they are preposterous. There's one long chase through the streets and skies of the Arab town of Bagghar, with Tintin and Haddock pursuing a bird while being chased by a motorcycle, a tank and a hotel (yes, really). They fly through the air, tumble and fall, crash through windows and nobody ever suffers more damage than a few scrapes.

"The Adventures of Tintin" doesn't really add up to much more than a good time, but often it's a really, really good time.

3 stars out of four

Review: "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo"

2011-12-20T01:13:00.010-05:00

"The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" is extremely well-made, ably acted, beautifully shot and has a plot full of hairpin turns and twists. It is an entirely engaging and occasionally gripping film. It is also completely unnecessary.

This remake of the 2009 Swedish thriller based on the novel by Stieg Larsson contains no surprises for those who have seen the original. The identity of the killer is already known; the final disposition of the brilliant and possibly crazy title character, Lisbeth Salander, drains the character of much of the razor-sharp freshness from when Noomi Rapace played her.

Rooney Mara and Daniel Craig bring a few notes of their own to the roles of Lisbeth and investigative journalist Mikael Blomkvist, but ultimately it's the same characters experiencing the same dynamic.

The really is no reason for the existence of this movie. Everything the American version does, the Swedish original already did equally well, or better.

Well, there is one reason I can think of for the remake: so Americans who don't like reading subtitles will buy tickets for it. That may be harsh and cynical, but there it is.

The story (screenplay by Steve Zaillian) wanders deep into the thickets of familial secrets and horrible behavior behind the doors of old-money mansions. So did the Swedish version, as both movies spend way too much time with Lisbeth and Mikael hunched over computer screens, staring at photos and waiting for clues to present themselves.

At just over 2½ hours, "Girl" can feel self-indulgent and sprawling.

The two main characters remain separated for nearly half the film, only joining forces when their objectives align. Recently disgraced after being found guilty of libeling a major industrialist, Mikael is recruited by a rich old magnate, Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer), to track down the killer of his niece Harriet, who disappeared 40 years ago.

Lisbeth is the computer hacker hired to vet Mikael for the Vangers. Decked out in punk leather togs, multiple facial piercings and a dead-eyed stare, everything about Lisbeth screams, "Leave me alone."

(In one medium-ish change from the original movie, Lisbeth is not monitoring the ongoing doings of Mikael, but only becomes involved when he tracks her down and asks for help. This has the effect of making Mikael, who is by far the more passive person in the tale, seem more proactive and assertive.)

The entire Vanger family occuppies a lonely island in frozen Hedestad, and Mikael settles in to investigate Harriet's disappearance. With the clan filled with drunks, thieves and Nazis, the number of suspects is voluminous. Most want him gone; only Martin (Stellan Skarsgard), Harriet's older brother, is welcoming and helpful.

Lisbeth has her own problems. Formerly institutionalized, she's subject to a state-appointed guardian, who refuses to let her have access to her own money without ... considerations proffered. This extended sequence, while technically distracting from the plot, establishes Lisbeth as both frequent victim and ferocious victimizer.

Eventually, they team up to try to pierce the Vanger mystery. Mikael, the older, deliberate investigator, has a great deal of trouble getting inside Lisbeth's head. She's a bona fide genius, who eschews emotional attachments in all forms of human contact.

Director David Fincher, fresh off the success of last year's brilliant "The Social Network," adds a few wrinkles -- such as the exact way in which the final revelation plays out, and how Lisbeth and Mikael leave things between them. These changes aren't necessarily better or worse, and their only purpose appears to be something Fincher can point to in order to justify such a rote remake.

So why three stars for this movie? I respect the craft with which it was made, and can't deny that somebody unfamiliar with the original film will find it as darkly invigorating as I did the Swedish version.

What I'd really like is for this director, this screenwriter and these two stars to make another, original movie on their own. It'd have been a better use of their time, and mine.

3 stars out of four

Video review: "Margin Call"

2011-12-20T00:03:00.014-05:00

One of the best movies of 2011 hardly anyone's seen, "Margin Call" is a fictionalized take on the collapse of a Lehman Brothers-type company at the precipice of the Great Recession. It's an insider's look at greed, hubris, and the willingness of an elite few to flush the entire economy down the drain, so long as they are the ones who get to decide when.

First-time writer/director J.C. Chandor makes an audacious debut with this taut potboiler, and he's got a killer cast to help him: Kevin Spacey, Zachary Quinto, Paul Bettany, Stanley Tucci, Demi Moore, Simon Baker and Jeremy Irons.

The entire story takes place during one night. After being laid off from his firm, an older worker tips off a young stock trader to evidence that the entire company is on the verge of plunging into a sea of red ink. The smart hotshot calls in his boss, who calls in his boss, and so on into the night.

It's a parade of human flaws and cavalier attitudes, as each person recognizes the imminent threat, and calculates how much personal exposure they have to the calamity.

Irons tops things off as the company CEO, who sees everything in the cold calculation of dollars and cents, and the human factor never enters the equation. Spacey, who has a knack for playing loathsome characters, is the floor boss who starts out as the film's villain and somehow ends up as its moral conscience.
Don't miss this tightly-told indie.

Video extras are good, though not blue-chip quality. Chandor and producer Neal Dodson team up for a feature-length commentary track. They also have a commentary available to accompany several deleted scenes.

The goodies are rounded out by a making-of featurette, photo gallery and behind-the-scenes snippets with cast and crew.

Movie: 3.5 stars out of four
Extras: 3 stars

Review: "Mission: Impossible -- Ghost Protocol"

2011-12-19T10:09:00.000-05:00

"Mission: Impossible -- Ghost Protocol" marks the end of the road for Tom Cruise -- or a new beginning.

Cruise, whose star persona is so associated with youthful vitality, will turn 50 next summer. He's blessed to be aging in the Cary Grant mold -- the harder planes and few cracks that have appeared in his features only seem to accentuate his rugged handsomeness, and his physique resembles an Olympic gymnast's.

A star for 30 years now, Cruise has grown older in a way that is much more detrimental to his career than any physical signs: audiences have grown tired of him.

Whether it's the couch jumping, leaving one beautiful wife for another, proselytizing his religion or some other off-putting aspect of his personal life, people have largely been turned off by Cruise. Fair or not, we want to believe the person we see onscreen is a reflection of real life.

Certainly, Cruise has not experienced a precipitous drop in the quality of movies he's been making. He made a hilarious turn into comedy with a supporting role in "Tropic Thunder," and then made the overly sturdy but effective World War II drama, "Valkyrie."

His next film, "Knight and Day," was most instructive. It was a fun, breezy, largely tongue-in-cheek action/romance in which he got to poke fun at his action hero image while wooing Cameron Diaz. Even though it showcased all of his best attributes as a movie star, it was a huge flop domestically -- though it cleaned up overseas; his enduring appeal on foreign shores is a cautionary to those eager to write the epitaph on his career.

If the third film in the "Mission: Impossible" series bombs, too, then I think it will be time for the tombstone engravers to get out their chisels. It's easily the best of the series, filled with extravagant international locations and fantastical action set-pieces, at least two of which are genuinely jaw-dropping.

(Programming note: seeing the film in IMAX is well worth the ticket up-sell, even more so because there's no distracting 3-D.)

The scene where super spy Ethan Hunt scales the tallest building in the world, using only a pair of magnetic gloves (which soon prove sketchy), is likely to induce acrophobia in those who don't already have it. (I do, and was left squirmy.) A fight with the villain in a huge robot-controlled parking garage comes in a close second.

The big question surrounding "Ghost Protocol," other than its star's fate, was whether animation wizard Brad Bird ("The Incredibles") could prove as adept at staging live action. Short answer: hellyeah.

Unlike so many directors whose action scenes are muddled and confusing, Bird is crisp and economical with his direction, showing the audience just enough to thrill without bombarding us with imagery and special effects.

The plot is ... as unrelated to the success of the movie as other "Mission" movies. The super-secret government agency Hunt works for, IMF, is disbanded when an explosion at the Kremlin is staged to look like a covert American attack. Hunt and a small band of outliers are left to stop a nuclear extremist (Michael Nyqvist) who wants to blow up the world.

It's all just an excuse to set up high-tension scenarios and let them play out, usually with a bang.

Screenwriters Josh Appelbaum and André Nemec bring the clever, too, especially one terrific bit where the team attempts to intervene in a sale of nuclear secrets between two sets of bad guys simultaneously, without tipping either one off.

Jeremy Renner joins the franchise as Brandt, a former field hand with regrets, and Paula Patton is a hit as Jane Carter, a fiery agent who has something personal in the game. Simon Pegg returns as Benji, the chirpy, nerdy tech whiz who's moved out from behind a computer terminal at HQ to get into the action.

"Mission: Impossible -- Ghost Protocol" is a top-notch spy thriller, but its biggest mystery is whether audiences have gotten over enough of their Tom Cruise phobia to plunk down for a ticket. From my end, here's hoping.

3.5 stars out of four

Review: "Young Adult"

2011-12-14T00:46:00.084-05:00

"Young Adult" is the egg of a great idea that never really hatches. It's built on an outlandish premise, and after 93 minutes of talking and emoting and frittering around, all we're left with is that same nutty premise.

Here's the nugget: Mavis, the pretty, popular girl from high school returns to her tiny hometown 20 years after graduation in order to win back her teenage beau. Her life hasn't turned out to be the fabulous adventure she imagined when she escaped to the big city, and she wants to recapture her glory days.

One problem: the former boyfriend is happily married and just had a baby. Mavis knows this -- in fact, it's the news of the birth that sets off her unholy mission -- but sees it as merely a bump in the road. She's fully aware that lives may be destroyed in her quest to reignite lost love; she just doesn't care.

So this is a movie about a horrible person who suspects that she's a horrible person, and the audience gets to tag along on her journey to confirm what she already knew.

The acting in "Young Adult" is splendid, especially Charlize Theron and Patton Oswalt, who play two fractured souls. Theron is Mavis, who lives in Minneapolis and is the (uncredited) author of Waverly Prep, a teen-lit book series suffering diminishing returns. Oswalt plays Matt, the loser she barely remembers from school, but who ends up being her new best friend when she returns to Mercury, Minn.

Matt is an interesting guy: After struggling to recall Matt -- even though he had the locker next to hers -- Mavis finally remembers him during a chance meeting at a local bar. "You're hate crime guy!" she exclaims. Not exactly a catchy nickname, that.

Matt, who walks with the aid of a crutch, was savagely attacked by some homophobic jocks in high school, who shattered his legs, bashed in his head and maimed his manhood. It was national news as a hate crime, until it turned out Matt wasn't actually gay.

So now he's just a forgotten guy with a limp, who spends his days in an anonymous job and his nights distilling his own brand of bourbon and creating crazy mash-ups of action figures by transposing their parts.

Somehow, though, when Mavis walks back into town they form a deep bond of trust. She tells Matt about her plan to win back Buddy, he old boyfriend, and he tries to dissuade her, though not very hard, having developed a puppyish affection of his own.

Almost irrelevant in all this calculus is the actual ex-boyfriend, Buddy, played by Patrick Wilson, who often seems to get cast as the unattainable object of female longing. Buddy's wife, Beth (Elizabeth Reaser) -- who looks suspiciously amazing for somebody who just popped out a baby -- is oblivious about Mavis' intentions, despite the fact she's not exactly playing it subtle, wearing va-voom outfits to casual get-togethers.

Director Jason Reitman and screenwriter Diablo Cody, two of Hollywood's brightest young lights, fail to recapture much of the hip charm of their last collaboration, "Juno." There are a few witty moments, and some black humor that's fairly delicious.

(I especially liked the scene where Mavis visits a local book store and starts signing copies of her novels, until a clerk asks her to stop because they’ll need to return unsold copies to the publisher.)

There is still Cody's penchant for very written-sounding dialogue. Even worse is her tendency to tell the audience what's going on rather than showing them.

For example, when pressed about exactly why she wants to get back with the old boyfriend she's barely interacted with since the 1990s, Mavis essentially bleeps out the movie's entire theme: "He knew me when I was at my best."

Reitman has a great touch with actors, but he's helming a story that never got out of the gestational period. This film takes several characters and puts them through a blender, but we get the distinct sense when all is said and done they will all go on with their lives much the same as before.

2.5 stars out of four

Video review: "Rise of the Planet of the Apes"

2011-12-13T01:53:00.000-05:00

I'll admit, when I heard they were making a prequel to the "Planet of the Apes" series, and it was to be called "Rise of the Planet of the Apes," I LOL'd.

A cheesy, long-dormant franchise about talking simians rebooted? Starring James Franco, he of the seemingly stoned Oscar-hosting gig? And a title containing two clauses? (What's the sequel to this movie going to be called, I joked, "Return of the Rise of the Planet of the Apes"?)

Then I saw the movie, and the giggling stopped. Easily the best movie of this past summer, "RotPotA" is a thoroughly entertaining and thought-provoking film -- goofy title and all.

Set in the near-future, the story entails a young scientist, Will (Franco), who develops a serum to cure Alzheimer's. He tests it on a chimpanzee, Caesar (Andy Serkis provides the voice and body-motion capture), whose intelligence soars.

As the ape grows smarter, he begins figuring out that taking orders from people isn't really his bag. After being imprisoned in a facility for apes run by some cruel humans, Caesar leads a revolt against their evil overseers.

With terrific CGI special effects, a lot of smarts and visceral appeal, "Rise of the Planet of the Apes" doesn't monkey around.

Fortunately, "RotPotA" is getting a first-class video release, stocked with tons of extras -- though you'll have to buy the Blu-ray edition to get most of the goodies.

The DVD does come with some nice stuff, including about a dozen deleted scenes, and featurettes on the mythology of apes and another focusing on the work of Serkis, who's become king of virtual acting.

Upgrade to the Blu-ray/DVD combo pack and you'll get eight additional featurettes covering everything from ape facts to how the filmmakers turned human actors jumping around in front of green screens into hairy gorillas and orangutans. There are also two separate commentary tracks by director Rupert Wyatt, and screenwriters Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver.

Movie: 3.5 stars out of four
Extras: 3.5 stars

IFJA announces 2011 film awards

2011-12-12T01:17:00.000-05:00

The Indiana Film Journalists Association, an organization of journalists dedicated to promoting quality film criticism in the Hoosier State, is pleased to announce its annual film awards for 2011.

"The Artist" took top honors, winning Best Film as well as Best Director (Michel Hazanavicius) and Best Musical Score (Ludovic Bource).

"Win Win" earned two prizes, Paul Giamatti for Best Actor and Thomas McCarthy for Best Original Screenplay.

"The Descendants," which was named runner-up for Best Film, won Best Adapted Screenplay for Alexander Payne, Nat Faxon and Jim Rash.

Elizabeth Olsen took the Best Actress prize for "Martha Marcy May Marlene," while Viola Davis was named Best Supporting Actress for "The Help." Christopher Plummer took Best Supporting Actor for "Beginners."

Winners were declared in 14 categories, with a runner-up in 13 categories. In addition, a total of 10 movies (including the winner and runner-up) were recognized as Finalists for the top prize, Best Film of the Year.

"Rango" was named Best Animated Film, "Project Nim" Best Documentary and "The Skin I Live In" Best Foreign Language Film. "The Tree of Life" was given the Original Vision Award.

Lindsay Goffman was honored with The Hoosier Award as the producer of "Dumbstruck," a documentary about ventriloquists that was released nationally by Magnolia Pictures.

A word of explanation about the last two categories:

The Original Vision Award is meant to recognize a film that is especially innovative or groundbreaking.

The Hoosier Award recognizes a significant cinematic contribution by a person or persons with Indiana roots. As a special award, no runner-up is declared.

The following is a complete list of honored films:

Best Film of the Year
Winner: "The Artist"
Runner-up: "The Descendants"
Other Finalists: "Coriolanus," "Drive," "Hugo," "Martha Marcy May Marlene," "The Muppets," "The Skin I Live In," "Super 8," "The Tree of Life."

Best Animated Film
Winner: "Rango"
Runner-up: "Winnie the Pooh"

Best Foreign Language Film
Winner: "The Skin I Live In"
Runner-up: "13 Assassins"

Best Documentary
Winner: "Project Nim"
Runner-up: "Into the Abyss"

Best Original Screenplay
Winner: Thomas McCarthy, "Win Win"
Runner-up: J.C. Chandor, "Margin Call"

Best Adapted Screenplay
Winner: Alexander Payne, Nat Faxon and Jim Rash, "The Descendants"
Runner-up: Steven Zaillian and Aaron Sorkin, "Moneyball"

Best Director
Winner: Michel Hazanavicius, "The Artist"
Runner-up: Terrence Malick, "The Tree of Life"

Best Actress
Winner: Elizabeth Olsen, "Martha Marcy May Marlene"
Runner-up: Tilda Swinton, "We Need To Talk About Kevin"

Best Supporting Actress
Winner: Viola Davis, "The Help"
Runner-up: Amy Ryan, "Win Win"

Best Actor
Winner: Paul Giamatti, "Win Win"
Runner-up: Ralph Fiennes, "Coriolanus"

Best Supporting Actor
Winner: Christopher Plummer, "Beginners"
Runner-up: Albert Brooks, "Drive"

Best Musical Score
Winner: Ludovic Bource, "The Artist"
Runner-up: Howard Shore, "Hugo"

Original Vision Award
Winner: "The Tree of Life"
Runner-up: "The Artist"

The Hoosier Award
Winner: Lindsay Goffman, producer of "Dumbstruck"

http://indianafilmjournalists.com

Reeling Backward: "This Gun for Hire" (1942)

2011-12-12T00:39:00.101-05:00

Alan Ladd became a star in the most unlikely way: Playing a heartless killer in 1942's "This Gun for Hire." While ostensibly a supporting part -- 29-year-old Ladd received fourth billing, below Laird Crager -- the role of Philip Raven is one of the most enduring in all of film noir

Raven is a man who, as the trailer dubbed him, "kills for the love of killing." This is not quite right, as he is a paid assassin who kills without hesitation or remorse, but doesn't appear to have a huge emotional reaction in the act of doing so. The opening scene, where he casually shoots a scientist selling a secret formula -- and then guns down his wife to boot -- sets the hard-bitten tone for the rest of the movie.

With his carefully unmodulated voice, steely unwavering gaze and icy cold demeanor, Ladd gave Raven unmistakable presence and a pitch-dark form of charisma. Love him or hate him, you can't take your eyes off him.

Veronica Lake is supposed to be the star of the picture, but it's a curiously passive lead role. She spends most of the movie in Raven's thrall, as his traveling companion and prisoner. It's more of a partnership than a true thug/victim relationship, with Ellen Graham appealing to Raven's better nature -- apparently being the only person who even believes there is such a thing.

Ellen's an interesting gal, part moll and part golden-hearted enchantress. She's a showgirl who sings while performing magic tricks (which Lake performs herself, and ably) whose fellah is a police detective, Michael Crane (Robert Preston). The copper is a wet rag compared to the black charm of Raven, and for a long time it seems likely that she really is "Raven's girl," as the police dub her.

Directed by Frank Tuttle from a screenplay by Albert Maltz and W.R. Burnett, based on the novel "A Gun for Sale" by Graham Greene, "This Gun for Hire" is a great-looking film with lots of inky cinematography -- particularly in a brief sequence inside a gasworks factory, where the shadows of machinery envelop and bisect the people inside.

Raven spends most of the movie on the lam, but doesn't seem particularly rattled about it. He's listed in the newspapers as the "broken-wristed killer," identifiable by his left hand that juts out at an ungainly angle from his forearm. (Late in the movie we learn this injury was inflicted by an abusive aunt, who became his first murder victim when he slit her throat in retaliation.) Oddly, this deformity doesn't seem to affect Raven's physical ability, including pulling himself up over a brick wall into the gasworks.

The main antagonist is Cregar as Willard Gates, who seems to have a hand in both the entertainment and industrial worlds, picking out Ellen for his nightclub. He hires Raven to off the scientist, but he's acting at the behest of an elderly, sickly senator who wants to sell the formula for a poisonous gas to the Japanese. (This plot is revealed very late in the story, suggesting it was stitched on for war propaganda purposes.)

Gates pays Raven in marked bills, which soon puts Crane and the other cops on his tail. Not being the forgiving sort -- see the aunt -- he vows to hunt down Gates and kill him. Ellen learns of the Japanese scheme, and enlists Raven to give up his revenge in order to foil the plan.

Cregar is an interesting story. He had a brief but busy career, making 16 films between 1940 and 1945 --including playing the pirate Henry Morgan in "The Black Swan" -- before dying at the age of 31. He was actually the same age as Ladd when they made "This Gun for Hire" together, but Cregar nearly always played older characters in their 40s and up.

A looming physical presence -- 6-foot-3 with a barrel chest and shoulders like a linebacker -- Cregar struggled with his weight all his life, rarely less than 300 pounds in most of his screen roles. Tuttle is careful to avoid have Ladd and Cregar standing right next to other, since the diminutive Ladd (5'6" by most accounts) would have a hard time looking threatening next to a man twice his size. When they finally do appear together, Raven has his gun trained on Gates while wearing a gas mask, which make shim scary enough.

Cregar quickly lost over 100 pounds for his final role, and the strain on his system killed him a few days after undergoing stomach surgery. What a bright light snuffed out so early.

Preston was even younger, just 24 when this film came out, and Lake was already a big star at 20. She and Ladd would go on to make several more pictures together, forming one of the Golden Age's most iconic screen duos.

3 stars out of four

Video review: "The Help"

2011-12-06T00:12:00.045-05:00

I would not be surprised to see "The Help" get a raft of Academy Award nominations. Viola Davis and Octavia Spence seem like locks in the Best Supporting Actress Category, playing African-American maids struggling with racism and oppression in 1960s Mississippi. And Bryce Dallas Howard might just slide in there, too, as the catty queen bee of the white social establishment.

Emma Stone has a shot at a Best Actress nomination too, playing "Skeeter" Phelan, the recently graduated college woman and aspiring journalist who takes it upon herself to write about "the help" -- black women who essentially raise the children of white well-to-do families, only to be rewarded with condescension and Jim Crow status quo when those young ones grow up into adults.

For that matter, writer/director Tate Taylor did a smart job translating the phenomenally popular book by Kathryn Stockett to the screen, taking syrupy chick flick material and turning it into a moving and surprisingly funny portrait of Southern womanhood, in all its gritty glory and brittle pettiness. An Oscar nomination might just be in his future, too.

Heck, for that matter, why not a Best Picture nod for "The Help"? How many other films have grabbed audiences this year like this one, leaving them rolling in the aisles and with tears on their cheeks? It's sure to be a big hit on video.

One disappointing note is that video extras are rather on the lean side. The DVD version comes only with a few deleted scenes and “The Living Proof” music video by Mary J. Blige.

Upgrade to the Blu-ray, and you add a few more deleted scenes, and two featurettes – a making-of documentary and a tribute to real-life maids of Mississippi.

Movie: 3.5 stars out of four
Extras: 2 stars

Reeling Backward: "Rear Window" (1954)

2011-12-05T01:14:00.055-05:00

Somebody once asked me how I choose the movies to write about in the "Reeling Backward" column. More specifically, they asked why I seemed to choose mostly obscure films most people have never heard of -- like "Panic in Year Zero" or "Yellow Sky."

"If you're going to write about a Humphrey Bogart movie, why not pick 'Casablanca' instead of 'Across the Pacific'?" went the line of questioning, or something like it.

There are essentially two reasons. One is that I started this feature largely as a way to expand my own film education. Even for a hardcore movie buff, it astonishes me how many classic films (and modern pictures) I've never seen. Seeing as one tends to see the most famous stuff first, I make it a point to reach out for movies I've never encountered. By necessity, that means casting my net farther.

But another reason is that I try to be interesting and write about my insights into a movie, hopefully with some originality and touch of wit. I see these less as reviews of old movies as essays, or even my personal movie diary.

Frankly, so many people have written volumes of prose about "Casablanca" and "Citizen Kane" and other greats, I feel adding my voice to the din serves little purpose. I doubt many people would read it, and I'm modest enough about abilities to recognize that it's unlikely I could say anything really new.

But occasionally I pick a high-profile subject I'm already very familiar with just because, dang it, I really like the movie and want to spend some time re-watching and thinking about it.

I got a copy of the remastered "Rear Window" well more than a year ago, but hadn't gotten around to watching it for a variety of reasons. (Mostly, a little blond boy who came into my life.) I think I know why. As a suspense film, "Rear Window" derives most of its satisfaction from the revelations of the plot. Watching it again and again fails to capture the thrill of seeing it unfold for the first time.

Especially, that fantastic moment when Raymond Burr, playing the killer, looks up into the camera (which has been acting as Jimmy Stewart's gaze) and realizes that the entirety of his nefarious activity has been closely observed. That's a once-in-a-cinematic-lifetime moment.

Even great thrillers, like "Silence of the Lambs," lose some of their appeal after their mysteries have been revealed.

"Rear Window" obtains more of its freshness than, say, "Psycho" because the plot works backwards. The identity of the killer is made known early on, and the entire story is about L.B. "Jeff" Jeffries, a photographer laid up with a badly broken leg, trying to prove that a murder has even taken place. He sits at his window in his Greenwich Village apartment, staring and spying on his neighbors in the little courtyard of buildings.

I won't talk too much about the voyeurism that is a central motif in Alfred Hitchcock's movies, and is brought to the fore here. It was one of the New Wave guys, film critics who became filmmakers, who pointed out that the view of the neighbors is like a movie screen, and Jeff takes the place of the audience, playing peeping tom so we won't feel bad about doing so.

I will say that the studio set built for this picture is simply a marvel, a canvas of windows and the human carnival partially glimpsed through them. Only a sliver of the city street is visible through an alley, making the courtyard seem like a quiet oasis removed from the bustle and danger of New York City.

Except, of course, there's plenty of foul play going on here. Lars Thorwald (Burr), a costume jewelry salesman, offs his invalid wife and -- Jeff later determines -- cuts her up into pieces and carries them out of the apartment in his sample case.

Jeff spends most of the movies trying to make the case to his detective friend Doyle (Wendell Corey). He quickly makes converts of his nurse Stella (Thelma Ritter) and girlfriend Lisa (Grace Kelly). They soon become his conscripts, hunting down evidence and even -- in perhaps the film's most memorable sequence -- Lisa sneaking into Thorwald's apartment while he's away.

Little comment is made upon the movie's title (which did not come from the short story upon which John Michael Hayes based the screenplay, "It Had to Be Murder" by Cornell Woolrich). Jeff, in a heated argument with Stella about the propriety of using binoculars and a telephoto lens to spy on his neighbors, says "I'm not much on rear-window ethics."

This could have two meanings. The most common understanding is that it's not right to watch people unobserved, since people behave differently when they're interacting with society and quite another when they're in private. How many of us would like to have our intimate daily doings, even the most innocent ones, broadcast for others' eyes?

But another meaning is that things seen through the rear window of a car are by definition things that are behind us, and therefore in our past. My take on Jeff's dialogue is that he's in the midst of doing what he must, and he will consider the morality of it later on. He's also talking about his lifestyle, which is a freewheeling cycle of exotic assignments and dangerous thrills, and that he prefers to live in the moment. He'll worry about today, tomorrow.

This is in contrast to the carefully-ordered life of Lisa, and the source of the tension in their relationship.

Either way, "Rear Window" has remained an enduring classic because it's not just a clever potboiler, but a nagging and probing film that raises uncomfortable truths about how people behave toward one another ... especially when we think no one's looking.

3.5 stars out of four

Holiday movie preview

2011-12-04T00:47:00.013-05:00

The leftover turkey is downed, the relatives from up north have returned home, and winter has brought weather to chill the bones. All these signs of impending Yule also point to the fact that the holiday movie season is getting into full swing.

Why exactly is it that Hollywood saves its serious films and family-friendly big-budget bonanzas for the last few weeks of the year? Gosh knows we could've used some of these high-profile flicks back in September, when our choices were between "Shark Night 3D" and "Dream House."

Part of it is jockeying for Academy Award nominations. Films released too early in the year tend to fade in memory, while a movie released in late December will still be playing in theaters when Oscar voters mark their ballots.

And with most kids out of school, studios want to blanket their biggest target audience with choices.

The result? A large percentage of the best movies of the year are released between Thanksgiving and New Year's.

The bounty carries over to the first few weeks of January, when films given a qualifying release in New York and L.A. for Academy Award consideration go wider.

Here's a look at what's under the cinematic Christmas tree. Movies marked with an O! have serious Oscar buzz.

New Year's Eve (12/9) -- Director Garry Marshall and much of his "Valentine's Day" crew attempt to replicate their success with another romantic paean to a holiday, told through a large ensemble cast of lovers, including Ashton Kutcher, Robert De Niro and Katherine Heigl.

The Sitter (12/9) -- Perennial wingman Jonah Hill gets the star treatment in this goofy comedy about a slovenly slacker who takes on the babysitting job from hell.

O! Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy (12/9) -- Gary Oldman is getting lots of kudos for his performance as a master spy brought out of retirement during the Cold War to hunt down a Soviet mole inside British intelligence. Co-starring Colin Firth. Based on the John le Carré novel.

Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows (12/16) -- The great detective (Robert Downey Jr.) takes on an enemy as brilliant as he in the form of Professor Moriarty (Jared Harris). More quick-edited fight scenes followed by clever quips with a faux British lilt.

Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chip-Wrecked (12/16) -- Poor Jason Lee. One of filmdom's most genuine actors has sunk to playing the human sidekick in the third Chipmunks movie. The gang gets stuck on a deserted island, leading to ... lots of Auto-Tuned singing.

Mission: Impossible -- Ghost Protocol (12/16) -- Let's face it, this may be the last chance for Tom Cruise. The soon to be 50-year-old star hasn't had a hit in six years. And can animation whiz Brad Bird direct a live-action blockbuster?

O! Young Adult (12/16) -- The "Juno" team, director Jason Reitman and screenwriter Diablo Cody, team up again for a serio-comedy about a disgraced big shot (Charlize Theron) who goes back to her tiny hometown in order to reconnect with her old boyfriend, who's inconveniently married.

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo (12/21) -- This film is already controversial with a semi-nude Rooney Mara appearing in a poster with Daniel Craig. He's a crusading journalist; she's a disturbed computer hacker. Was an American remake of the Swedish thriller even needed?

O! The Adventures of Tintin: Secret of the Unicorn (12/21) -- Could Steven Spielberg add another Oscar to his mantle with a win for best animated feature? The aging wunderkind tackles cartoons for the first time in this take on the popular European comics.

We Bought A Zoo (12/23) -- Writer/director Cameron Crowe returns after a long fallow period with this dramedy starring Matt Damon as a harried single dad who, yup, buys a zoo in an attempt to bring his family back together. Scarlett Johansson co-stars.

The Darkest Hour (12/25) -- Emile Hirsch leads a group of photogenic young people stranded in Moscow when strange alien creatures attack the planet Earth.

O! War Horse (12/25) -- The novel by Michael Morpurgo became an award-winning stage production, and gets the big-screen treatment from director Steven Spielberg. (That guy's everywhere!) A young man separated from his beloved horse during World War I tries to find him.

The following films, listed alphabetically, will likely only see limited release in December -- look for them in local theaters sometime in the new year.

O! Albert Nobbs -- Glenn Close has been nominated five times for an Oscar without winning ... though the last was in 1989. She may finally get another shot at the golden statue in this drama about a woman passing herself off as a man to work as a butler in 19th century Ireland. Like Jeff Bridges, Close could get the nod as a way to cap off a great career.

Carnage -- Two Brooklyn children get into a tussle, and then their parents meet to make the peace. But then ... something else happens. Brilliant but controversial director Roman Polanski steers a great cast -- Kate Winslet, Jodie Foster, Christoph Waltz and John C. Reilly -- in this absurdist comedy based on the Broadway play.

O! Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close -- The harrowing Jonathan Safran Foer novel about a 9-year-old boy on a quest for answers after his father dies in the 9/11 attacks. Starring Tom Hanks and Sandra Bullock.

In the Land of Blood and Honey -- Angelina Jolie steps behind the camera for the first time as the writer/director of this drama about a couple who find themselves separated during the Bosnian War.

O! The Iron Lady -- Can Meryl Streep pass muster as British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher? Upper English lips get notoriously stiff whenever Yanks play one of their own in a high-profile biopic. Something tells me Streep will pull it off ... because she's Meryl Streep.

O! My Week with Marilyn -- Another high-profile biopic stars Michelle Williams as perhaps American cinema's greatest icon, seen by her co-star Laurence Olivier while they were shooting a picture.

Pariah -- A Brooklyn teen struggles to find her sexual identity in the face of familial tensions in this Sundance Film Festival favorite.

O! Shame -- Michael Fassbender, best known to American audiences as young Magneto from "X-Men: First Class," is getting raves for his raw and exposed portrayal of a man burdened with sexual addiction. Co-starring Carey Mulligan. No NC-17 film has ever won an Academy Award -- could this be the first?

Video review: "The Smurfs"

2011-11-29T01:06:00.012-05:00

A merchandising opportunity in search of a movie, "The Smurfs" is the latest bastardization of a beloved cartoon franchise from Generation X's childhood. Like "Garfield," "Alvin and the Chipmunks" and "Yogi Bear," the filmmakers layer on the fancy computer animation but fail to add any soul into these stale leftovers.

Also like those other movies, "The Smurfs" unconvincingly pairs the CGI critters with live-action humans, resulting in the fakest person/Smurf hugs imaginable. I can't think why the people responsible for these types of movies feel it necessary to include live people, since the cartoon versions existed quite fine without them. The only answer I can come up with is a cynical one: It's cheaper, since it means they don't have to animate every second of the movie.

The story goes that several of the Smurfs get zapped from their magical land into real-world New York City, including Papa Smurf, Smurfette and some new guy named Gutsy, apparently a replacement for Hefty. They soon befriend Patrick (Neil Patrick Harris), a humble Manhattanite.

Their old nemesis, the wizard Gargamel, chases them through the dimension whole. He's played (live-action) by Hank Azaria, who gnashes and clowns and cavorts, managing to bring what little entertainment value to be found in "The Smurfs."

Please note, "The Smurfs" will be released on video on Friday, Dec. 2.

Video extras are quite decent, and are available in three different versions. The DVD contains two commentary tracks, gag reel (dubbed Blue-pers), a music montage, a "Find the Smurfs" game and two making-of featurettes.

Upgrade to the Blu-ray/DVD combo pack, and you add deleted/extended scenes, another game, one more featurette and progression reels showing the stages of the animation process.

Go for the Holiday Gift Set, and you get an interactive pop-up feature and a new mini-movie based on Dickens' "A Christmas Carol."

Movie: 1.5 stars out of four
Extras: 3.5 stars out of four

Review: "The Descendants"

2011-11-23T00:07:00.011-05:00

It's nearly December, and I have yet to fall in love with a movie this year. There have been plenty I liked, and a handful I really admired and respected. "The Descendants," the new film from Alexander Payne, is among the latter.

But I've yet to experience a film that truly left me gobsmacked, lifted me up and tossed me around and left me shaking. Movie critics take pains to put on a cynical veneer, but we're actually a lot like teenage girls: we're giddily awaiting the crazy whirlwind romance.

I've been for a spin or two in 2011, but I'm still waiting to be swept off my feet.

Payne specializes in serious, cerebral movies that toe the line between pain and laughter. Accepting a Golden Globe for best performance in a drama in "About Schmidt," Jack Nicholson famously quipped, "I thought we made a comedy." Payne makes the sort of movies -- "Election," "Citizen Ruth" -- that don't so much blur the line between drama and comedy as render the distinction unimportant.

He hasn't made a feature film since 2004's "Sideways," but he's back at the top of his game with "The Descendents." It's a career-changing performance by George Clooney, playing a dad -- that in of itself is a seismic shift; he's nearly always been the lothario or lone wolf -- coping with his wife in a coma.

Clooney is open and vulnerable in a way we've never seen before; his character is at a crossroads in life and doesn't know what to do. He has lots of questions and few answers. It's the opposite of the typical male movie star role, in which the guy always looks like he's in control, or at least pretends to be.

Even in "Up in the Air," which has some thematic similarities, Clooney played a charmer who oozes confidence. Here, Clooney he gives the boot to his too-cool-for-school shtick and isn't afraid to look weak.
Matt King is upfront about how he's put his career as a lawyer before his wife and two daughters: "I'm the backup parent, the understudy," he confides in the opening narration.

With his wife in a vegetative state after a boating accident, Matt is left to deal with his 10-year-old daughter Scottie (Amara Miller), who's acting out, and 17-year-old Alexandra (a terrific Shailene Woodley), who's out-and-out rebelling.

Things were a little rocky in Matt's marriage, but it's left to Alexandra to give him the news: his wife was cheating on him. Matt is simply unable to deal with this information. Here's a guy who prides himself on his rationality, and he's left sputtering with chaotic emotions by the betrayal.

Complicating things further is the impending disposition of the family plot in Hawaii that's been the birthright of Matt's clan for 150 years. Many of his wide-ranging cousins are broke, and are clamoring for a piece of the pie if they sell to a developer for big, big money -- we're talking half a billion here, folks.

Did I mention the movie is set in Hawaii? Payne's films tend to be very evocative of a specific place, and "The Descendents" is no exception. There are gorgeous shots of the island landscape, of course, but it's more about capturing the laid-back atmosphere. From the way people instinctively remove their shoes before entering a house to the groovy, free-hugging vibe most of the natives espouse, Payne gives the film a sun-kissed, exotic authenticity.

A few other supporting characters turn up. Alexandra's friend Sid (Nick Krause) is part stoner hanger-on, part boyfriend who says outrageously offensive things but somehow becomes the glue that holds their frayed bonds together. Robert Forster has a blunt, caustic turn as Matt's father-in-law, who does not hold his tongue or his fists when provoked.

Written by Payne, Jim Rash and Nat Faxon, based on the book by Kaui Hart Hemmings, "The Descendants has a smart script that's well executed by all involved, especially Clooney and Payne. I really, really, really like this movie a lot. Love will have to wait.

3.5 stars out of four

Review: "Hugo"

2011-11-22T03:06:00.000-05:00

"Hugo" is an often-delightful movie that always kept me guessing. It's got a lot of Charles Dickens mixed with a little steampunk fantasy, layered with a rich frosting of tribute to early 20th century silent filmmaking.

In a world where most movies seem to make the entirety of themselves obvious the moment they begin, it was a pleasurable experience to have a film that took its time establishing itself. There doesn't seem to be much of a coherent story for a great deal of the time, just a sprawling group of characters who don't appear to be behaving for the camera. Slowly, though, themes and urgencies coalesce.

This is perhaps the most uncharacteristic movie Martin Scorsese has made, and not just because it's a children's movie, and contains tons of CGI and was shot in 3-D, no less. For once, the 3-D is not just an add-on to pump up ticket grosses, but actually enhances the cinematic experience by adding layers and textures without spotlighting them for their own sake.

The visuals are gorgeous and lush, almost painterly in their evocation of 1930s Paris in winter. The gently twinkling lights, the crisp white snow, the people who dress up in suits and gowns for a simple trip to the train station -- it's a feast for the eyes.

No, this is a departure for Scorsese because he's not exploring his usual theme, the human savagery hidden by urban society. He has made a paean to the dreamers, magicians and tinkerers who strive to reshape their world into something beautiful. This is a story of hope and striving, not sorrow and loss.

Asa Butterfield (who starred in the criminally unappreciated "The Boy in the Striped Pajamas") plays Hugo Cabret, an orphan boy who lives inside the clocks and mechanical guts of the Paris train depot. His uncle, the timekeeper, has long ago disappeared in a drunken fling, and Hugo's clockmaker father died. So he's tragically, achingly alone.

Hugo peers through the clock faces and steam grates at the denizens of the train station, with two figures holding most of his attention. One is the station inspector (Sacha Baron Cohen, chewing his vowels), an unctuous man with a bad leg supported by a squeaky metal brace, whose specialty is snatching up lost children and shipping them off to the orphanage.

The other is the owner of the toy shop (Ben Kingsley), from whom Hugo has quietly been stealing parts for his own special project. Hugo and his father began repairing a strange automaton, a little metal man who sits at a writing desk. Hugo has become obsessed with getting this creation working again to see what secrets it holds.

I can't say anything more about the plot for fear of spoiling the film's charms. Suffice it to say the toymaker's goddaughter Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz) will factor in heavily, plus the local flower girl (Emily Mortimer), an ancient bookshop owner (Christopher Lee), and the movies of the great silent filmmaker, Georges Méliès.

As much as I admired "Hugo," I could not give myself over entirely to it. The movie's emotional connections are tenuous -- Scorsese and screenwriter John Logan, working from Brian Selznick's book, never let things get too dark and dreary. Even the villainous station inspector, presented as a buffoon, is allowed redemptive love interest. And the toymaker's bile over his shattered dreams washes away a little too quickly and conveniently.

I also noticed a disturbing artificiality to Moretz' performance -- little gestures and facial expressions that seemed overly theatrical and less than spontaneous. She's been terrific in everything else I've seen her in ("Let Me In," "Kick-Ass"), so I can only fault Scorsese's direction of her.

"Hugo" is gorgeous movie-making that, in end, feels mostly like an homage to itself.

3 stars out of four

Video Review: "Super 8"

2011-11-22T00:51:00.004-05:00

Director J. J. Abrams self-consciously channels Steven Spielberg in "Super 8," an ode to Gen-X childhood and 1970s filmmaking built around a sense of wonderment. It's the story of a group of boys in small-town 1979 Ohio, who are shooting an amateur zombie movie when a real-life disaster descends upon their community.

The plot is fairly predictable -- if you haven't figured out what the threat is by the time the military starts invading with soldiers, you must've been asleep. But Abrams, who also penned the screenplay, manages to convincingly evoke and specific time and place of his own imagining.

Here, 13-year-olds talk and act exactly like real preteens do, not the glossy, whitewashed versions we're used to in mainstream films. Joe (Joel Courtney), the shy kid who does the special effects make-up, is the main character but brash Charles (Riley Griffiths), the director of the picture-within-a-picture, calls the shots. He's obsessed with putting "production value" into their flicks, and comes up with the idea of casting a girl (a girl!) in their movie.

Thus enters Alice, the rebellious gal at school, played by Elle Fanning in a game-changing performance. Things get rolling with the derailing of a locomotive, in a scene that makes the train crash in "The Fugitive" look wimpy. The mysterious behavior of one of their schoolteachers and other odd occurrences takes the story into serious "Twilight Zone" territory.

Along the way, Joe will have to deal with his distant father (Kyle Chandler), a deputy sheriff who's broken up about the recent death of his wife.

What it lacks in originality, "Super 8" makes up for with spunk and a genuine heart.

Extra material is quite good. If you go for the DVD version, you'll get a feature-length commentary by Abrams and key crew members, and two making-of featurettes.

Opt for the Blu-ray/DVD combo pack, and you'll add six more featurettes, including ones on the excellent musical score by Michael Giacchino and the tradition of 8mm filmmaking. There's also a deconstruction of the train crash scene, deleted scenes and a digital copy of the film.

Movie: 3 stars out of four
Extras: 3.5 stars

Review: "The Muppets"

2011-11-22T00:26:00.010-05:00

The recurring theme of "The Muppets" is that the whole gang hasn't seen each other for years, and all their fans have forgotten about them. They're trying to get back together for one last show, ostensibly to save their old theater from destruction but really to remind the world that they're still around, still funny and still capable of putting on a big to-do.

In reality, the return of Kermit the Frog, Miss Piggy and the rest of the Muppets is charming and welcome reintroduction of the puppets created by Jim Henson decades ago (an early version of Kermit debuted in 1955). They haven't been forgotten so much as misplaced in weak movies and third-rate television appearances.

Rather than returning like a lot of other beloved children's franchises, spiffed up in CGI and modern attitudes -- "Alvin and the Chipmunks," "Garfield," "Yogi Bear" -- the Muppets are stubbornly old-school and kinda schmaltzy. They were a throwback to vaudeville even when the first Muppet movie came out in 1979, and now their boisterous singing and razzmatazz feels positively kitschy.

A whole generation of kids grew up on the Muppets, old enough now to bring their own children and catch up with Kermit & Co. The preview audience I attended of 30- and 40-something parents positively swayed with glee when the banjo strumming kicked off "Rainbow Connection."

Jason Segal is the Muppet savior, co-writing the script (with Nicholas Stoller) and starring as Gary. Segal, best known for R-rated comedies and adult-oriented television, mostly stays in the background and plays straight man, letting the Muppets take center stage.

Gary's brother is Walter (voiced by Peter Linz), who is obsessed with the Muppets and actually is one himself, although he doesn't seem to realize it. (One hint was a montage of their parents measuring their height, and Gary sprouts up while Walter never grows.) The stubborn conceit of the Muppets is that they're living creatures who don't know they have human hands manipulating them from the inside.

There appears to be little conscious attempt to age the Muppets or even acknowledge that the passage of time weighs on them. What exactly is the age span of frog made out of felt? Though it did seem to me that Fozzie Bear's eyebrows had acquired a touch of gray.

In the one nod to modern irony, there is plenty of breaking of the fourth wall, as the Muppets and their human tag-a-longs comment on the fact they are starring in a film. After assembling Kermit (voice of Steve Whitmire), Fozzie Bear (Eric Jacobson), Gonzo (Dave Goelz), and a few others, someone suggests that they save time by picking up the rest of the crew via musical montage.

I also guffawed when Gary's long-suffering girlfriend Mary (Amy Adams) quips after the Muppets' pitch for a live telethon is turned down by every television studio in town: "This is going to be an awfully short movie!"

The heavy is Tex Richman, a wealthy oilman who's made an unlikely discovery of oil right beneath the Muppets' old Los Angeles theater. Chris Cooper, known for dramatic roles, attacks the part with obvious glee, even breaking into a rap assisted by his Muppet henchmen. ("Do you think we're working for the bad guy?" one asks the other.)

In one great throwaway joke, whenever Tex Richman is savoring his evil plans, he doesn't just break out into a maniacal laugh, but actually narrates it: "Maniacal laaauuuuugh!!"

Director James Bobin, a TV veteran, seems to grasp the tone and pitch of the Muppets, combining broad physical humor for kiddies with wry observations aimed at their parents. Though the story does get a big draggy near the middle, and the movie feels a little bit overlong.

Still, "The Muppets" is a joyful and successful reboot of a beloved franchise.

The movie is preceded by a 7-minute "Toy Story" short that finds Buzz Lightyear usurped by a micro-version of himself from a fast-food promotional giveaway. It's moderately amusing, though I savored the wink to Disney's mega-merchandising.

3 stars out of four

Review: "The Skin I Live In"

2011-11-21T05:08:00.000-05:00

If Alfred Hitchcock were making movies in 2011 instead of mid-20th century, he might very well have concocted something like "The Skin I Live In." It's a stylish sexual thriller that takes much of Hitchcock's obsessive voyeurism toward the female form and dials it up to 11. Think "Vertigo," and layer on a whole lot of kinky, fetishistic behavior.

It's a highly disturbing film, and wonderfully so.

Spanish auteur Pedro Almodóvar -- one of the few filmmakers today who deserves that description -- delivers one of his most original and nightmarish visions. Based on a novel by Thierry Jonquet, it wears the clothes of a mystery/thriller, but like most of Almodóvar's movies the outer layer is just dressing for deeper and darker themes rumbling underneath.

The story opens with a wealthy and driven plastic surgeon, Robert Ledgard (Antonio Banderas), who has a woman locked up in a room of his remote mansion. Is she his prisoner? A patient? A caged bird he desires for himself? Perhaps all of these?

Known only as Vera, the woman (Elena Anaya) wears a strange, skin-tight bodysuit that hugs every inch of her body in a cocoon that is both protective and confining -- even her fingers and toes are tightly encased.
Vera is obviously unhappy: Robert returns home to find her having attempted to slash her wrists and chest. Curiously, she has been very unsuccessful in damaging herself. We soon learn that Robert has spent years perfecting a new replacement for human skin that is resistant to burns and cuts.

Because he achieved this miracle through transgenesis -- combining human and pig skin cells -- his work is forbidden and, therefore, kept strictly secret. His only confidant is his servant Marilia (Marisa Paredes), who has been with the family for decades and is privy to, or part of, all of the Ledgard secrets.

Things really get strange when a man named Zeca wearing a tiger costume for Carnival shows up on the doorstep, and eyes Vera with an animalistic lust.

Clues are dropped like so many bread crumbs in the forest -- are they leading the audience to the answer, or luring us further into a bramble of temptation and madness? Either way, the journey is delectable.

The action suddenly switches to years earlier. Robert's wife, horribly burned in a car accident, kills herself in front of their daughter, Norma. Later, at a wedding party Norma will meet Vicente (Janet Cornet), a charming young rake whose actions will set them all on the path to tragedy.

I cannot say more for fear of ruining the filmgoer's experience. Suffice it to say that all I have described is mere prologue.

Almodóvar, known for pushing boundaries, blows past many of them with this daring vision. Anaya spends almost the entire movie either nude or in that odd bodysuit, and at one point during her transformation wears a translucent mask with a cross-like cutout for her eyes and mouth, too.

The director and his cinematographer, José Luis Alcaine, shoot with bold close-ups and crisp images, so sharply defined it seems everything is lit up like an operating theater. But with splashes of warm color, the feel is anything but sterile -- the visuals are vibrant and breathtaking.

The film's only weakness is that the main character remains something of a cipher. But then, at some point we come to question who exactly is the protagonist.

"The Skin I Live In" is a wonderfully twisted cinematic expedition into territory rarely traveled.

3.5 stars out of four

Reeling Backward: "Oldboy" (2003)

2011-11-21T04:52:00.150-05:00

"Oldboy" is one of those films I've been hearing things about ever since it came out in 2003. Back then I was living/working in rural Florida, where Korean films tend not to invade local cinemas. So it'd been on my must-see list for years.

I actually started watching it a few weeks ago on streaming Netflix, only to discover it's only available there with a dubbed English soundtrack. Dubbing is one of the high crimes of cinema, imho, and I refuse to watch it if I can help it. A few weeks later, a Netflix DVD arrived in the mail.

(Yes, I still subscribe to Netflix, despite their price hikes and polarizing moves of late. They seem to be doing everything in their power to alienate a loyal fan base. But the truth is that for about $16 a month, I can watch as many streaming movies as I want and all the DVDs I can see and return. For less than the price of two tickets to a movie theater, that's still one of the best entertainment values around.)

I was mildly disappointed by "Oldboy." I liked it, but I found the stylized calisthenics of director Chan-wook Park to be more distracting than augmentative. The narrative is also extremely convoluted and hard to follow at times.

I was also very put off that the main character, Oh Dae-su (Min-sik Choi), does not seem to have a consistent or central core. Granted, he goes through very extreme circumstances, being kidnapped and imprisoned without apparent reason for 15 years. But he starts out as something of a buffoon, then becomes a desperate wastrel during his confinement, and then suddenly upon being set free morphs into a grim and nearly silent man-with-no-name anti-hero. Finally, he debases himself at the climactic scene, turning from a wreaking god of vengeance into a bowing and scraping man-dog.

These transformations would be more palatable if there were understandable, and we could see the character's internal struggles. But Park and Min-sik Choi deliberately choose to portray him as an inscrutable character, more graphic novel than three-dimensional figure. This is understandable, since the film was loosely based on a manga comic by Nobuaki Minegishi.

The result, though, is that Oldboy remains an externalized character, defined by his action-movie behavior rather than the screaming inside his soul. He has about as much emotional resonance as the hammer he often carries around with him as a weapon.

Speaking of that hammer -- perhaps the film's most celebrated sequence is the one in which Oldboy tackles a dozen goons at once down a hallway wielding only that tool for defense. Park shoots the scene in one continuous take (which reportedly required three days of shooting to complete) from an imaginary side view, as if through one wall of the hallway. It is a ballet of orchestrated violence, and depicted in such a way as to make the feat believable, or at least plausible.

This is not a chop-socky movie in which the martial arts exuberance overtakes the story; the violence in "Oldboy" is up close and personal, grounded by gravity and the fleshy restrictions of the assailants' bodies.

Speaking of flesh, the scene where Oldboy eats a live octopus shortly after being released from his prison is memorable for the lack of CGI, as Min-sik Choi stuffs the squirming body down his gullet like a snake as the tentacles twist and flip and around his head. Not an image I'll soon forget.

The contortions of the plot are often maddening. There's a whole subplot where Oldboy does not trust the young female sushi chef, Mi-do (Hye-jeong Kang), because she's had some kind of contact with the rich businessman, Lee Woo-jin, who is eventually revealed to be his tormentor. There's a lengthy sequence where they're doing computer searches and running hither and fro; I grasped very little of it. I also did not comprehend why Woo-jin arranges to have the hand of Mr. Han (Byeong-ok Kim), the jailer who imprisoned him for a fee, severed and delivered like a prize to Oldboy.

In a puzzling move, Park and his screenwriters do not do anything to address the aging of the main character. When we first meet him he appears to be a middle-aged businessman with a face full of wrinkles and a paunch. His body is honed by shadowboxing training during his confinement, but otherwise his appearance does not change. The only notable difference is his hair, which grows out into an absurd kewpie-doll like helmet, which is stuck somewhere between too-cool hipness and unfashionable mane.

So how old was Oh Dae-su when he was taken? Because he was already married and had a daughter who was close to 10 (for reasons that are revealed later), he must have at least been in his early- to mid-thirties. Which would put him around 50 when he is released. Lord knows I'm too much of a literalist, but I find it strange that the character losing the prime years of his manhood is not commented upon in any way.

In a further head-scratcher, Lee Woo-jin is played by Ji-tae Yu, who was only 27 years old when the movie came out. And yet he is asserted to have been a classmate of Oh Dae-su's. When I first saw the character, I wondered if he must be the son of someone Oh Dae-su wronged. Perhaps this is Park's way of commenting on Oldboy's aging without directly confronting it, as his enemy seemingly remains young and vital.

The big plot reveal is that Lee Woo-jin had an incestuous relationship with his sister, which young Oh Dae-su discovered and unwittingly spread the word about around the school, causing her to take her own life. Once this dynamic was unearthed, I immediately made the connection that Lee Woo-jin was manipulating events so that Oldboy would be tricked into sleeping with Mi-do, who is actually his own daughter. It's never a good thing when the audience knows exactly where things are heading, and waits for the movie to arrive.

The final act is a big mess. Oldboy begs Woo-jin Lee not to reveal the secret of their incest to Mi-do, promising to become his slave and even slicing off his own tongue as a token of his silence. Then there's a ridiculous coda in which the same hypnotist who ensorceled Oldboy and Mi-do agrees to strip the memory of his transgression out of his head. That way Oldboy and Mi-do can go on with their lives together.

Of course, the result of this action would invariably be ... more incest. So if Oldboy was so destroyed by the knowledge of his incest with his daughter that he would maim himself, why would he choose a course of action that would continue it? He apparently decides to live with a horrible sin as long as he can remain innocent of it, which is a terribly cowardly choice.

I did enjoy "Oldboy." It's got a fresh, original verve, a feeling of a movie being alive within itself. But like so many "best ofs" I see long after the fact, it fails to live up to its towering hype.

3 stars out of four

Video review: "Conan the Barbarian"

2011-11-20T01:39:00.060-05:00

This reboot of the "Conan" franchise was ill-conceived and poorly executed. The film cost $90 million to make and grossed barely more than $20 million, marking it as one of the biggest flops of 2011. It stars a nobody with whose near-total lack of onscreen charisma only reminds us how Arnold Schwarzenegger made Conan perhaps his most iconic film role after the Terminator.

Schwarzenegger had little acting ability when he first started, but he had ineluctable screen presence. Even his thick Australian accent added to the character, making him seem alien and strange. We really felt like Conan could have wandered down from the frozen hinterlands of Cimmeria into the civilized regions, and started brawling and wenching.

Author Robert E. Howard, who committed suicide at age 30, never attempted to give Conan a backstory. He simply was, and one of the things that made the character so appealing was that he did not spend a lot of time probing his inner self, and brought no baggage beyond a desire to slay, fornicate and conquer.

Both film versions feel compelled to give Conan a childhood story. With the original film, it simply was a jumping-off point for his adventures. But with "Conan the Barbarian," director Marcus Nispel and his trio of screenwriters make it the character's central conflict, as he attempts to avenge himself on the warlord who killed his father (Ron Perlman).

Schwarzenegger's Conan was less concerned with vengeance than solving the "Riddle of Steel." But all this new Conan wants to do -- besides pout and glower a lot -- is get one back for ol' daddy. The bad guy here is Zhalar Kym (Stephen Lang), who wants to reassemble the magical death mask the barbarian tribes sundered and split between them. At his side is his daughter Marique (Rose McGowan), who has a funky partially-shaven head and some sorcerous powers.

This brings us to Jason Momoa as the new Conan. Physically, as a fit for the character he's in some ways better than Schwarzenegger and some ways worse. Conan was supposed to be a Northerner whose skin was bronzed by the southern suns, so Momoa's Polynesian heritage actually works for him. I also liked that they gave him lots of scars, including several large ones on his face -- Howard always described Conan as covered with old battle wounds.

Somehow, though, Momoa just isn't as physically imposing as the former bodybuilder. Conan is the rare example where you do want an enormously muscular guy, because he's supposed to be the strongest man in the world.

This Conan's physical attributes seem modest. At one point the damsel in distress is dangling over a fiery pit by a chain, and he struggles to pull her up as his enemy closes in. The real Conan could've flung her around like a sack of sugar. Momoa also keeps encountering big bruisers much larger than himself, a tactic that should've been used more sparingly.

Momoa also falls into the annoying and common trap of speaking all his dialogue from the back of his throat, so it comes out gravely and "intense." Mostly it just sounds like he's choking on his soup.

The story is basically just one long chase. Conan takes prisoner the female monk (Rachel Nichols) who is the Pureblood essential to revitalizing the death mask's powers. His hope is to draw out Zhalar Kym so he can kill him. Of course, things grow more complicated.

The action scenes are largely murky and confusing affairs, with a whole lot of fancy sword-twirling by Momoa. Not to be a Howard purist here, but Conan would be more of a brutal, unpolished fighter. Though one battle between Conan and some sand mummies conjured up by Marique has some sizzle. Left unexplained, though, is why in the final showdown she never resorts to her magic and fights only with her Krueger-esque finger blades.

"Conan the Barbarian" is a dull a witless reboot.

1 star out of four

Review: "The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn -- Part 1"

2011-11-17T11:26:00.000-05:00

It has now become commonplace for big film franchises to split up the books they were based on into multiple movies. "The Lord of the Rings" did it in three parts, and the last installment of the "Harry Potter" series was cut in twain. The upcoming prelude to "LotR," "The Hobbit," is getting the same treatment.

I have no problem with this when there's simply too much story to tell in a single two-hour (or even three-hour) movie, and trying to do so would inevitably leave audiences with a disappointing Cliff's Notes version of the book. As long as there's narrative momentum and character development, make 17 movies if it pleases.

But with "The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn -- Part 1," there's just not a whole lot of story to tell. What there is feels stretched and pulled like cheap carnival taffy to make it resemble a complete whole, when really all it is is a whole lot of exposition with vampires brooding and werewolves gnashing their frustration.

The result is a draggy, drippy installment in the Twilight series, easily the most boring of the franchise.

Before you accuse me of simply being a Twilight hater, a fuddy too-old critic who's not the target audience of the books by Stephanie Meyer's books and the movies made out of them, let me offer a little preemptive defense. I read the first book, and found it to be an agreeable page-turner. And I actually wrote a positive review of the third film, stating that it "can boast more visceral thrills than the first two movies combined."

Alas, boys yearning for some wolf/vampire battles in between the kissing and yearning will be sadly disappointed. There's virtually no action until near the end, and even that is a truncated and curiously bloodless encounter. For a bunch of natural killers, they sure seem unable to inflict any real and lasting damage on each other.

It's notable that director Bill Condon is the fourth person to helm a Twilight film, with no one ever repeating. Condon, best known for historical dramas like "Kinsey" and "Gods and Monsters," demonstrates a totally inept feel for the few action scenes that do exist, which quickly devolve into indecipherable flurries of fur and pale vampire flesh.

His touch during the (many) relationship-y scenes isn't much better, with a whole lot of manufactured conflicts and momentary dramas. For a century-old vampire who's too cool for school, Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson) throws a lot of hissy fits.

Laughably, the big issue in the early going is on the honeymoon of Edward and his human lady love, Bella (Kristen Stewart). Edward has agreed to turn Bella into a vampire after they marry, but she doesn't want to do it until after the honeymoon, because that would be, like, lame to suffer the pains of transformation after a big celebration. So Edward is scared that his super-vampire-strength will kill or injure Bella during their lovemaking.

There's a funny love scene where they thrash in the throes of passion, and Edward turns the bed into so much kindling. Of course, no one thinks to have her get on top. But then, no one thinks to ask how an undead vampire can, uh, perform in that way.

Curiously, despite spending a lot of time on the sun-kissed beaches on Edward's private island near Rio de Janeiro, he never displays any of that twinkling effect that was so derided in the first movie. I realize the CGI designers were never quite able to pull it off, but simply pretending that this aspect of vampirehood that the movies were so explicit about simply doesn't exist is an abject surrender.

Anyway, the rare coupling of mortal and vampire results in an unexpected pregnancy. It grows with astonishing speed, so that she's showing two weeks after the wedding. (Again, how can something that's undead grow in Bella's womb? But ... nevermind.)

They return to the perpetually rainy and gray town of Forks, where it soon becomes clear that the baby will kill Bella. So why doesn't Edward just change her into a vampire right away? Carlisle Cullen, the father figure of their coven, murmurs something unconvincingly technical to say why it's impossible (which it will remain, right up until the moment when the plot requires it to be possible).

Jacob (Taylor Lautner), the angry American Indian werewolf who lost out in a love triangle with Bella and Cullen, is furious at the situation. He doesn't want Bella turned into a vampire, and he certainly doesn't want her to be killed by a vampire baby. Meanwhile, the alpha male of Jacob's pack of wolves considers the vampire/human hybrid an abomination that must be destroyed, forcing Jacob to make a difficult choice.

"The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn -- Part 1" is a bad movie not because it's a tween fantasy about dreamboat vampires and the insipid girls who love them. It's bad because it's half a movie, all build-up and no payoff.

1.5 stars out of four

Review: "Like Crazy"

2011-11-16T05:37:00.014-05:00

My suspicion is that "Like Crazy" will drive some audience members batty. It certainly happened at the preview screening I attended, where a number of people seemed to be expecting some sort of bubblegum romantic comedy, and (loudly) expressed their dissatisfaction with what they got.

This indie drama from director/co-writer Drake Doremus is closer in mood and tone to last year's "Blue Valentine" than the latest boy-meets-girl confection. It's a tender love story, but weighted with a sense of tragedy and longing. Even during the headiest moments of whirlwind romance, the expectation of rocky waters ahead never fades.

Anton Yelchin and Felicity Jones star as Jacob and Anna, two lovers separated by an ocean of circumstance. He's American, she's British, both about to graduate from a California university. She's a budding journalist, while he wants to design and build his own furniture. The biggest gasp moment of their story comes not at some huge moment of emotional outpouring, but when he gives Anna a chair he hand-made for her.

Doremus and co-screenwriter Ben York Jones (who also plays a small part) are less interested in stepping in the footprints of previous films about relationships, but mapping out the terrain of modern love among Millenials. The result is a movie filled with pregnant pauses and long silences, where a furtive expression or gesture provides a window into this self-conscious pair's inner lives.

What is left unsaid often speaks louder than their stammering, halting exchanges of dialogue.

Anna is supposed to leave the States when her student visa expires, but decides to overstay for the summer so the relationship can take root. Alas, when she travels back to London for a family wedding, she finds herself unable to return because of her violation. She and Jacob spend weeks, then months apart, trying to keep their affection alive through late-night phone calls and emails.

It makes for an interesting set-up for a long-distance relationship, though the depiction of U.S. immigration laws -- which more resemble a leaky sieve than a tight net -- is fanciful.

During their long separations, both Anna and Jacob find temptation on their respective shores. For her, it's a kind neighbor who's always dropping by (Charlie Bewley). In Jacob's case, he tumbles into Sam (Jennifer Lawrence), an assistant at his workshop who seems willing to accept whatever scraps of Jacob's affections are available when his devotion to Anna has waned.

"Like Crazy" has heft and authenticity, a telling portrait of modern relationships as they really are rather than how we would like them to be. It's a slow, often sad tale that unfolds at its own pace, so the audience (at least those with patience) feel like they're experiencing reality transpire, rather than being embraced by a movie.

3 stars out of four

Video Review: "Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides"

2011-11-15T00:37:00.008-05:00

The "Pirates of the Caribbean" franchise long ago walked the plank of artistic semblance. After the daffy fun of the first flick, due mainly to Johnny Depp's, tipsy off-kilter take on pirate Jack Sparrow, the series quickly devolved into bloated CGI fests lacking any wit or reason for existence.

The fourth installment, "On Stranger Tides," doesn't do anything to change this score. But at least the story is somewhat comprehensible, and they keep the number of characters trackable.

Alas, new director Rob Marshall -- subbing out for Gore Verbinski -- doesn't have the same flair for action scenes. The sword fights and other set-pieces tend to be murky and disjointed.

Sparrow runs across an old enemy/lover, Angelica (Penélope Cruz), who turns out to be the daughter of legendary pirate Blackbeard (Ian McShane). At least that's what she's telling Blackbeard. Part of the meager enjoyment of this movie is discerning the intersecting lines of betrayal, as every major character is either actively conning or being conned by another.

The finish line is the veritable Fountain of Youth, which every king and scallywag wants for himself. Captain Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush) pops up again, having lost a leg but gained a writ of clemency from the British crown.

In the end, "Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides" is another fancy treasure chest filled with leaden doubloons.

The video release of this movie was handled oddly. It debuted on Blu-ray last month, but is only coming to DVD now. Video extras are rather scant on all versions except the most expensive one, the 3-D Blu-ray/DVD combo. That includes a feature-length commentary and a number of featurettes.

It's a disturbing trend, this idea that only those willing to shell out for the top-line edition deserve the goodies. It's this sort of thinking that is causing DVD sales to plunge, as more and more consumers would rather stream a quick fix than shell out for a disc package that contains few or no extras.

Movie: 2 stars out of four
Extras: 2 stars out of four

Review: "Steve Jobs: The Lost Interview"

2011-11-15T00:27:00.000-05:00

You do not have to be an adherent of the Cult of Mac in order to find "Steve Jobs: The Lost Interview" fascinating and, at times, mesmerizing. It's a look back at the prodigal son of Apple in 1995, near the end of his exile from the company he started in a garage, before he would take up the reins of leadership again and help transform it into the most valuable publicly-traded company in the world.

The interview by Robert X. Cringely is from a TV show he produced, "The Triumph of the Nerds: The Rise of Accidental Empires." That subtitle is somewhat accurate and somewhat not, for the Jobs revealed in this 69-minute portrait started working on computers as a teenage hobbyist, but displayed tremendous business acumen as well as a visionary ability to grasp the profound effect technology can have on our lives.

Jobs may have gotten started as an accident, but his empire was hardly a fluke.

Let me just say for the record that I am not a wild-eyed adherent to the iconography of the recently departed Jobs. I was among those who expressed bewilderment as my friends poured out their hearts about his death on Facebook and other social media. As a I wrote in a huffy response at the time, Jobs was not an inventor nor a builder -- he would describe what he wanted a product to do, and other people would go build it for him. And he was known to be quite a jerk to those who worked for him.

But the Jobs I see in this wide-ranging interview displays the charm that also earned him a loyal following, both within his companies and his customer base. It's occasionally a sad reflection to see this man in his prime, around age 40, still with a (mostly) full head of hair and fleshy face -- not the emaciated figure in the black mock turtleneck we're so used to now.

The production values are minimalist -- a simple one-shot of Jobs sitting in front of a chair in a multi-hued background, a computer monitor off to the side. The master tapes of the interview were lost, so only a VHS recording, recently found in one of the crew member's garage, survives. It's raw footage, almost completely unedited -- at one point, Jobs even unloads a big, wet sneeze in the middle of his commentary.

No doubt Jobs, who was famous for his fastidiousness about the look and feel of his products, would have tut-tutted the low resolution and streaky lines in the image.

But after awhile, these concerns fade as Cringely probes deeper into Jobs' career and personal feelings about the company that gave him the boot in a 1985 power struggle. Cringely is a subtle interviewer, allowing his subject to occasionally ramble, but nudging him in interesting directions with his understated questions.

Jobs talks about he and partner Steve Wozniak first creating their own computers so they could make free telephone calls. Still in their teens, they used it to call the Vatican in a nearly-successful attempt to get the Pope on the phone. In typical Jobs fashion, he manages to frame that youthful escapade in a broader perspective.

"We were young, and what we learned was that we could build something ourselves that could control billions of dollars worth of infrastructure in the world."

Jobs also waxes about getting rich so young, noting that he was worth $1 million at age 23, $10 million at 24 and $100 million by 25. He professes not to be impressed by his wealth, being so focused on building Apple that he never sold any of his company shares.

In one of his more ruminating moments, Jobs opines that everyone should be required to learn a computer language, because programming teaches you how to think.

Jobs also speaks freely about his enemies and competitors, in terms that are highly disparaging without seeming to contain a large amount of emotion or personal bile.

Saying of John Sculley, the former PepsiCo president he tapped to be Apple CEO, who would eventually force Jobs out of the company, he simply says, "I hired the wrong person."

He deflects criticism about his blunt style, such as telling employees their work was a shorter word for excrement. Brilliant people are confident enough in their ideas to defend them, Jobs says, adding that he never minded being proven wrong.

Jobs saves some of his sharpest barbs for IBM and Microsoft, praising their business success but paying the ultimate (for Jobs) disservice by saying the things they made were ugly and cheap.

"The only problem with Microsft is that they have no taste," he says. "They don't think of original ideas, and they don't bring much culture into their product...

"They just make really third-rate products. Their products have no spirit to them. There's no spirit of enlightenment about them. They're very pedestrian. The sad part is most of their customers don't have that spirit, either."

Near the end Cringely asks Jobs to look into the future, and he makes two notable predictions -- one wonderfully inaccurate, and the other spot-on.

Jobs says Apple is dying, and calls their slide "irreversible." Of course, 18 months after the interview he would be back at the helm, and quickly set about proving himself wrong.

The other is his recognition early on that the Internet would change the face of not only computing, but much of how people communicate, and how businesses sell their wares.

"The smallest company in the world can look as large as the largest company in the world on the Web," Jobs says. "The Web is going to be the defining social moment for computers."

"Steve Jobs: The Lost Interview" is a lively encounter with a very real, if flawed, oracle.

3.5 stars out of four

Reeling Backward: "Mallrats" (1995)

2011-11-14T01:24:00.111-05:00

I have finally completed my Kevin Smith oeuvre. Somehow I had missed "Mallrats," his sophomore effort that is generally regarded as his worst film. Although they may not be counting "Red State," which I hear is the challenger to the throne.

Smith is a multi-pronged artist who's almost as well-known these days for his live stage performances, "An Evening with Kevin Smith," his comic book writing and considerable pop-culture presence as his movies. He hasn't had a hit movie since ... well, ever. He tends to make lower-budget films, $30 million or less, that gross a little more than they cost.

Quality is another matter. I don't think Smith has made an out-and-out good movie since 1999's "Dogma," and even that was a bit of a mess narratively. His ultra-indie debut, "Clerks," was a brash and brainy exploration of mid-90s slacker culture, a portrait of my generation just as it was exiting college and finding its prospects meager -- not unlike today's kids.

And then there was "Chasing Amy," Smith's third film and masterpiece. I won't spend our time burying "Amy" in praises, other than to say it seems with "Mallrats" Smith was building up to that wonderfully edgy take on modern relationships and stunted youth. Many of the same actors appear, including Jason Lee, a professional skateboarder with zero acting experience who Smith cast in this movie despite resistance from the studio hacks.

That's how I prefer to think of "Mallrats" -- as Smith honing his storytelling skills and gift for sharp characters in preparation for other, better work. Whereas "Clerks" exists as its own piece, "Mallrats" is mere throat-clearing for "Chasing Amy" and "Dogma."

The plot is a lame excuse for a whole bunch of hanging around at the Eden Prairie Mall in Minnesota. Two college-age guys are dumped by their girlfriends, and spend a day trying to win them back ... after a fashion.

For Brodie (Lee), a slacker who lives in his mom's basement and plays Sega video games as a vocation, this involves insulting nearly anyone and everyone he encounters. Brodie is a walking cauldron of bile spewing all over everything in its path, but he's also wickedly funny while doing it.

His ex is Rene, played by Shannen Doherty. Doherty was a hot commodity coming off the "Beverly Hills, 90210" show, and in fact received top billing in the film despite having a rather small part. Smith's female characters in his early films tend to be underwritten, until he cast his real-life girlfriend, Joey Lauren Adams, as the lead in "Chasing Amy."

Adams also has a small part here, memorably being shown topless for a split second when drug dealer/mystic Silent Bob (played by Smith himself) smashes through the door of her store changing booth.

Claire Forlani plays the other ex-girlfriend, Brandi, who has just dumped T.S. (Jeremy London). Unlike Brodie, T.S. attends college and seems to have a plan in life, even if at this point it mostly seems to be playing Brodie's wing-man.

Jason Mewes returns as the other half of the Jay and Silent Bob team, still peddling drugs and hitting on women who don't respond. Together they act as a sort of Greek chorus, commenting on the action and jumping into the fray when it suits them.

Ben Affleck also turns up as the villain, the manager of the Fashionable Male store named Shannon, who puts the moves on Rene. Ethan Suplee plays Willam, a stoner who can't see the sailboat in one of those 3-D paintings, despite an epic attempt. Stan Lee makes a cameo, lending advice to comic book uber-fan Brodie.

Michael Rooker plays Brandi's dad, the host of a low-rent television dating show that's supposed to shoot inside the mall, with his daughter as the semi-willing contestant. Brodie and T.S. enlist Jay and Silent Bob to ruin it during live taping.

I enjoyed Priscilla Barnes, the former "Three's Company" star, as a topless fortune teller with three nipples. I suspect Smith only cast her because he, like me, had a boyhood crush on her and endeavored to see her naked. No complaints here.

I also liked the little touch of naming the wordless, scary head of security La Fours -- a nod to the barely-seen lawman who chases the main characters in "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid." They share a white straw hat and an imposing reputation.

Smith's strength as a filmmaker has always been creating distinctive characters, and working with actors to make them even more so. And, of course, crackling dialogue with lots of funny throwaway lines and quips.

Tying it all together into a satisfying story has always been his challenge, though, and he fails to make the sale with "Mallrats."

2 stars out of four

Review: "J. Edgar"

2011-11-12T21:42:00.000-05:00

"J. Edgar" is a curiously flat biopic for one of the most polarizing figures of the 20th century. J. Edgar Hoover was either one of the greatest innovators in the field of law enforcement or a power-mad tyrant, depending on who you ask. Clint Eastwood's new drama tends more toward the latter than the former, though it seems clear the great director has some admiration, or at least healthy respect, for Hoover's perseverance and resolve.

No one who becomes the head of a federal agency while still in his 20s, and remains in that post for nearly 50 years, transforming the very face of law enforcement in the process, can be easily dismissed.

The film's period production values are stupendous, seamlessly transitioning from 1919 to the early 1970s without ever missing a beat of authenticity. The suits, cars, decor and more appear spiffy and spot-on without screaming 'look at me.'

The make-up used to transform Leonardo DiCaprio into Hoover is also pretty spectacular. The actor bears little resemblance to the real man, but by giving him woolly hair, a thickening of the middle (some weight gain by DiCaprio augmented by padding, methinks) and enlarging his pupils, they manage to suggest the essence of Hoover without attempting a rote imitation.

DiCaprio's performance is solid, too, portraying a man driven to continually find fault in others as a defense mechanism for avoiding confrontation with his own weaknesses. There's even a scene suggesting that young Johnny Hoover stammered as a child, and acquired his iconic rapid-fire speech pattern through endless drills to correct his stutter. His mother (Judi Dench) appears in fits and starts, as a devout woman who pushed her son in ways subtle and not-so-subtle to always strive for more.

I cannot say I think much of the central theme of Dustin Lance Black's screenplay, which is that Hoover was a closeted gay who had a lifelong platonic love affair with Clyde Tolson (Armie Hammer), his number two at the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Tolson is portrayed as a fairly progressive and self-aware gay man, who acknowledges his feelings for Edgar to himself even as he is savvy enough to realize he can't do so publicly.

There's one big scene where Tolson throws a fairly extreme hissy fit when Hoover tells him he's thinking of marrying an actress, and they have a fistfight while dressed in their nightclothes that turns into a make-out session and a huge emotional explosion. It's a bold scene, full of energy and exuberance, and feels like total bullshit.

The historical case that Hoover was homosexual is sketchy at best -- he and Tolson spent most of their meals and vacations together, etc. Most biographies say no, and Mark Felt, the number three man at the FBI (who later revealed himself to be the infamous "Deep Throat" to Woodward & Bernstein) insisted their affection was genuine but brotherly.

The whole cross-dressing thing -- which is absurdly addressed in a scene where Hoover mourns in his mother's dress after her death -- is likely a figment. It was based on an account by one woman, a notorious socialite who was a convicted perjurer, but has managed to seep into the communal consciousness as truth.

Personally, I don't find it very interesting to explore if J. Edgar Hoover was gay or not. Even if he did secretly favor men, it would be the least interesting thing about him as a person. The secretive, power-hungry figure who dangled presidents and others wandering the corridors of power on a string is so compelling a subject, the matter of who he slept with pales in comparison.

Eastwood and Black spend most of the first part of the movie exploring this towering figure, and the bulk of the latter half doting on the gay question. The timeline jumps around liberally, with a lot of too-clever jump cuts showing young Hoover and Tolson stepping into an elevator, and their older selves exiting, etc.

"J. Edgar" is a fine-looking movie, and generally well-acted, too. Though some parts seem oversized, others are desperately short-shrifted. The most notable is Helen Gandy (Naomi Watts), whom young Hoover admired for her organizational skills and proposed marriage to on their third date. She demurred, but agreed to become his personal secretary, a position she would hold for the next five decades.

Gandy is omnipresent but unimportant, someone who lurks in the background until the filmmakers feel a need for Hoover to have a moment of self-reflection. Then Gandy is trotted in with her Steno pad and concerned expression to facilitate some convenient emoting.

My problem with this movie is it wants to exploit the shadowy whisperings about Hoover's personal life to paint a skewed portrait of his public one. Rumors, guilt by association and fleeting, surreptitious observations are an unreliable way to truly know a man. It's notable that these are the same sort of under-handed tactics Hoover himself used to gain and leverage power to wield according to his own interpretation of morality.

2 stars out of four

Review: "Take Shelter"

2011-11-09T07:51:00.000-05:00

Dark portents are rising, but only one man can see them. "Take Shelter" is a story of foreboding and madness, as the sky literally seems to close around Curtis, an average blue-collar family man from Ohio.

Clouds roil in over the fields in strange, disturbing twists and formations. Birds fly in vexing patterns with no rhyme or reason, as if they're trying to form their own organic cyclone. When things really get bad, Curtis sees indistinct human shapes through his windows, pawing at him and his family.

The fact that these visions happen both in Curtis' dreams and his waking life make them even more troubling. This is the story of a man who comes not to trust his own mind, and how losing that groundedness of mental integrity causes him to become unstuck from his wife, child, job and community.

Curtis is played by character actor Michael Shannon, known for twitchy supporting roles in mainstream films, including his Oscar-nominated turn as a mentally fractured man in "Revolutionary Road."

There's something about Shannon's looming height and malleable features that makes him a natural fit for playing tortured souls. He tends to keep a straight face that is always on the verge of plunging into a well of emotion. I cannot countenance the notion of a Michael Shannon romantic comedy.

It's an entirely new experience to see him taking the sort of character who would normally populate the background of a star vehicle and giving him his own movie. Shannon is equal to the task, drawing a portrait of a man who is self-aware about what is happening to him, but cannot turn away from the visions.

As time goes on and the dreams grow worse -- threatening his daughter, Hannah (Tova Stewart) -- Curtis takes action. He puts his beloved dog, which he dreamed tore his arm apart, in a pen.

Curtis avoids self-denial about his predicament. He checks out books on mental illness from the library and sees his doctor for some sleeping pills. His mother (Kathy Baker) was taken away from him by schizophrenia when she was the same age Curtis is now, so it's clear this descent into mental illness is something he has long feared and guarded against.

Things really grow strange when he decides to expand the old storm shelter in his back yard into a veritable underground fortress, borrowing money they don't have from the bank to do it.

It's notable that in none of Curtis' visions does his wife Samantha appear. That is, until...

Samantha is played by Jessica Chastain, who's had a major career birth over the last year in "The Debt," "Tree of Life," "The Help" and other films. She plays Samantha as more than just the good wife role, as a loving woman who is there for her husband and wants to do everything to help him, but makes it clear there are lines that cannot be crossed. At one point she insists they go to a Lions Club oyster fry dinner, simply because they need to do something normal.

Writer/director Jeff Nichols paints an authentic portrait of Midwest normalcy disrupted by extraordinary circumstances. He wisely puts his focus and his camera tightly on his actors, and keeps it there.

At just over two hours the movie lingers a little too much here and there, and suffers bouts of predictability. The fact that Hannah is deaf and needs cochlear implants paid for by Curtis' health insurance sets up a countdown for inevitable problems on the job.

"Take Shelter" is sometimes predictable, that is, until the very end, which suggests things that seem to come out of left field, until you recall hints that have been dropped along the way. I think this ending weakens the film, which is less concerned with the twists and turns of plot than how a man deals with the whole world crashing in on him, exposing his weaknesses.

3 stars out of four

Video Review: "Harry Potter and Deathly Hallows: Part 2"

2011-11-08T01:29:00.003-05:00

I have not always been Harry Potter's best friend. I liked the first two movies in the series well enough. But by the third -- when most observers believed the 10-year, eight-film epic journey really took things to another level -- I felt like I'd seen this movie too many times already. The saga of the boy wizard and Voldemort, his mortal enemy, had become episodic and repetitive to these eyes.

But the last film, "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2" was the grand payoff that I had been waiting for. No more exposition, no more new characters cluttering up the storyline, no more sense of the filmmakers dawdling -- just the logical, satisfying and sweeping culmination of a long voyage.

The story picks up with Harry, Ron and Hermione returning from exile to challenge Voldemort, who's tightened his death's grasp on the entire wizarding world. There's a climactic assault on Hogwarts School by Death Eaters and their minions, a terrifying chase through a maze of dragons, and of course the epic final showdown between Harry and Voldemort.

The stakes are high, and many people die. There's a sense of grandiose finality to "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2." This is the end -- and what a glorious one.

Videos extras are decent, though not quite magical. The lack of a commentary track is rather galling.

The DVD has a making-of documentary, deleted scenes, a tour of the Warner Bros. London studio where most of the films were shot, plus three featurettes: "The Goblins of Gringotts with Warwick Davis," "The Women of Harry Potter," and "When Harry Left Hogwarts."

The Blu-ray edition has all those, plus two juicy additions. There's an interactive pop-up collection of behind-the-scenes videos, and a conversation between author J.K. Rowling and Daniel Radcliffe.

Movie: 3.5 stars out of four
Extras: 3 stars

Reeling Backward: "Attack on the Iron Coast" (1968)

2011-11-07T00:28:00.095-05:00

A laughably bad World War II picture from 1968, "Attack on the Iron Coast" registers as nearly a parody of the genre, replete with hammy acting and silly action scenes. The director, Paul Wendkos, made his name with "Gidget" and its myriad sequels, and is mostly known for his television work. After making this film starring Lloyd Bridges -- another TV vet with "Sea Hunt" -- Wendkos would go on to direct the pilot of "Hawaii Five-O" and a couple of its first-season episodes.

I'd say his talent found its perfect match.

Bridges plays Jamie Wilson, a Canadian major who concocts a hare-brained scheme called Mad Dog to ram a British destroyer into the German-held port of La Plagé. The Nazi regime is using the French dry dock to repair its battleships with great efficiency, adding to the massive naval losses of Allied ships. Wilson wants to load a ship up with explosives and blow the whole thing to smithereens.

The story essentially consists of two parts: the hard-charging Wilson trying to convince his conservative British cohorts to OK the mission, and then the mission itself with its greatest critic forced to command the expedition. Andrew keir plays Captain Owen Franklin, who haughtily refuses to have anything to do with Mad Dog at least a half-dozen times, but comes to be its greatest advocate -- even going so far as to ignore an order from high command to abort the mission.

Keir gives a straightforward performance, as unctuousness gives way to stoic English stiff upper lip in the heat of battle.

Interestingly, Franklin is clearly portrayed as being a seasoned older officer, while Wilson is supposed to be the young gun continually challenging his elders with his brash tactics. In fact, the gray-bearded Keir was a 42-year-old youngster when this movie came out, while Bridges was 55 (but looked about 38).

Mad Dog may sound like Hollywood claptrap, but it was actually based on a real raid on St. Nazaire in March 1942 that succeeded using almost exactly the same tactics depicted in the movie. It' a wild enough story that one wonders why the studio didn't simply do a historically accurate story using the names of the real combatants, along the lines of "A Bridge Too Far."

My guess is the producers felt an urge to load up the story with the usual war-movie cliches -- two commanders in conflict, a romance running as sidebar (Wilson's wife is played by Sue Wilson), and a heroically implausible sacrifice by the main character at the end.

The latter occurs when Wilson, buried in wreckage aboard the ship's bridge, struggles to reach the detonation clock. The wires have been severed in the collision with the dry dock gate. A German soldier shoots Wilson, but in his dying swoon he manages to contact the wires and the whole thing goes boom.

Never mind that earlier Franklin had specifically told Wilson (and thereby the audience) that the device was self-contained so it would still detonate if the ship was damaged. And yet two thin little copper wires are left running exposed to the bridge floor. Ridiculous.

The portrayal of the Nazi commanders is knee-slapping goofy. Walter Gotell plays Van Horst, who prefers to eat and drink and debauch rather than pay attention to his duties guarding the coast. When we first meet the German officers, they're literally watching a skin flick while gorging themselves, and cannot even tear their eyes away from the lascivious images of women undressing to duly respond to reports of a strange ship approaching.

"Attack on the Iron Coast" has nothing going for it. The raid upon which it was based may have been a rousing military success, but as war films go the fictional version is totally fubar.

1 stars out of four

Review: "Tower Heist"

2011-11-02T13:12:00.000-04:00

The tower in “Tower Heist” is, literally, The Tower, a Trump Towers-esque palatial home to the Manhattan super-rich elite who live there and the small army of working-class stiffs who keep their pillows fluffed and the old ladies’ frou-frou dogs walked. The bad guy is a Bernie Madoff-style oligarch who gleefully steals from the rich and the not-so-rich alike, pocketing it all and depending on his money and connections to protect him from the Defarges of the world.

The heist part takes up the second half of the movie, as Ben Stiller leads a team of amateur thieves – and one professional, played by Eddie Murphy – into The Tower penthouse to reclaim their stolen pension money. It’s all about the righteous 99 percent thwarting the evil 1 percent.

It’s like Occupy Wall Street, rewritten as a goofy caper comedy.

I did not buy any of the characters in the movie as real people, and the mechanics of the actual heist doesn’t so much strain credulity as smash it into little pieces and stomp on it. At one point the film asks us to believe that hundreds of thousands of people attending the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade could be looking up into the air at all the floats, and not one of them notices something astonishing taking place at the top of The Tower.

Still, once the actual heist gets going, the movie revs up a decent amount of momentum and finds some sustainable laughs. It’s not quite enough to recommend it, but I’ll admit “Tower Heist” is a lot better than my exceedingly low expectations.

The first thing any potential ticket-buyer needs is to be disabused of the notion that this is a Stiller/Murphy buddy picture. Murphy plays Slide, who remains a fringe character until the 45-minute mark. He’s just some local loudmouth ex-con who shouts at neighbor Josh Kovacs (Stiller) whenever he walks by.

Later, after Josh is canned as the general manager of The Tower for standing up to top resident Arthur Shaw (Alan Alda), he invites Slide to join his crew of bumbling burglars. He reminds Slide they used to be nursery-school classmates, which Josh seems to think means they have a relationship, despite having no true interaction for 40 years.

The lack of any real Murphy/Stiller pairing is the biggest disappointment about “Tower Heist.” Both actors have been stuck in a rut of middlebrow comedies lately, so the idea of a couple of aging but still potent funnymen tag-teaming has a great deal of appeal.

Alas, they’re reduced to a few lame, sniping exchanges: “That’s it! I don’t want to talk to you for the rest of the robbery!”

Director Brett Ratner and screenwriters Ted Griffin and Jeff Nathanson never really kick the action out of tame screwball comedy territory, despite the daring Occupy overtones.

It’s too bad, considering the killer cast they assembled: in addition to Stiller, Murphy and Alda, there’s Casey Affleck, Matthew Broderick, Judd Hirsch, Michael Peña, Téa Leoni and Gabourey Sidibe. That’s five Academy Award nominees by my count – quite a lot of firepower considering the low-wattage material.

Affleck plays Josh’s dim brother-in-law; Peña is Dev’Reaux, the brash new elevator man; Sidibe is Odessa, a Jamaican maid with an outsize personality; Hirsch plays the unctuous Tower boss; and Leoni is the hard-wired FBI agent gunning for Shaw.

I particularly liked Broderick as Fitzhugh, a former Wall Street whiz turned unemployed evictee, who’s got an air of bottled-up middle-aged desperation just waiting to blow. Broderick has gray hair now, a couple of chins and a mid-life spread, but his boyish face still holds a hint of puckish Bueller charm.

Though held back by its sophomoric, self-imposed limitations, “Tower Heist” rises higher than it has any right to.

2.5 stars out of four

Video review: "Cars 2"

2011-11-01T00:05:00.007-04:00

“Cars 2" is certainly an entertaining movie, but there's no denying the tang of disappointment that clings to the latest release from Pixar, the king of animation studios.

It may not be fair to judge a movie on anything other than its own merits, but Pixar has set such a high standard that anything less than a wondrous film that delights the soul and mind of children and parents alike registers as a drop-off.

Considered amidst its peers, "Cars 2" is the cinematic runt of the litter.

The sequel takes a bold turn in shunting aside the main character of the original, hotshot race car Lightning McQueen (voiced by Owen Wilson), in favor of his hillbilly sidekick, Mater the tow truck (Larry the Cable Guy). The story is that McQueen has been challenged to a series of three races all over the world, but Mater steals the show when he's mistaken as an international super-spy.

As Finn McMissile, a snooty British agent (Michael Caine) puts it, "They're fooled because they're too busy laughing at the fool" -- not realizing Mater really is that dense.

It's all just an excuse for one set of action-packed hi jinks after another, with the bad guys divided between a loud-mouthed Italian racer and a mysterious pack of the worst lemon cars in history -- Yugos, Gremlins, Pacers, etc.

"Cars 2" is a fun bit of animation, but compared to "Toy Story" or "Finding Nemo," it's missing a gear.

It's notable that "Toy Story" is the only other story Pixar has seen fit to sequelize. Whereas last year's "Toy Story 3" was a heartfelt romp with a beloved set of familiar characters, "Cars 2" feels slapped-together and hasty, a merchandising opportunity with a movie attached.

"Cars 2" arrives on video in four different versions, with goodies ramping up as you move up in price point.

The DVD and Blu-ray/DVD combo pack come with the same features. There's "Hawaiian Vacation," a cartoon short, plus another all-new short, "Air Mater," and a commentary track by director John Lasseter.

Opt for the five-disc 3D combo pack, and you add deleted scenes, set exploration around the globe, short documentaries and a sneak preview of "Cars Land," a new showcase at Disney's California theme park.

Or you can go all in for the 11-disc Director's Collection, which includes both the original film and sequel plus all the extras.

Movie: 3 stars out of four
Extras: 3 stars