Review: "Wrath of the Titans"

"Wrath of the Titans" has such an obligatory feel to its, starting with that title. "Wrath" kind of sounds like "Clash," and could reasonably be interpreted as an escalation of it. First you clash, then you get mad about it.

 The 2010 reboot of the '80s ham classic wasn't great filmmaking, but it at least was fun and breezy and action-filled. The quick-and-dirty sequel also boats plenty of fights, but it gets bogged down by too much existential angst and father-son conflicts.

Perseus, proud half-god son of Zeus, has spent the years since defeating the Kraken as a humble fisherman, teaching his own son to follow in his decidedly un-divine footsteps. He resents Zeus for foisting his gifts upon him.

But then Zeus' full-god son Ares joins leagues with banished uncle Hades to capture Zeus and suck him of all his power. It seems Ares, the god of war, is jealous of all the attention daddy has been giving to his half-brother. Their plan is to use Zeus' god juice to release Cronos, the titan all-father of both Zeus and Hades, whom they defeated long ago and imprisoned in the underworld.

Perseus joins forces with Agenor, the smirky half-god prince of Poseidon, to head down to Hades to save Zeus. So basically, every single guy in the movie has daddy issues.

Louis Leterrier, who ably helmed the last movie, is given the boot in favor of Jonathan Liebesman, who like a lot of directors these days doesn't seem to know which end is up when it comes to filming fight scenes. He falls back on the tried-and-true tricks: quick flash editing, jumpy camerawork and a tendency to leave all the special effects shots with a fuzzy, indistinct feel.

At least the 3-D is better, though probably not worth the $3-4 ticket upgrade. Andromeda doesn't look like half her head is heading down the hallway, like in the last movie.

The movie can boast a few cool moments. I liked Cronos' demon warriors, who look like two molten men strapped back-to-back, who whirl around in a devastating cyclone of sword strikes. Cronos himself is pretty badass, resembling a mountain of lava and smoke that has come alive.

Sam Worthington gets to be a little more soulful this go-round, and he brings what few emotive moments the movie has.

At a little over 1½ hours, "Wrath of the Titans" isn't a very long movie, but it still manages to drag at times. Altogether it's an unnecessary sequel to a remake that we didn't really need, either, but at least it was less Freudian and more fun.

2 stars out of four

Review: "Mirror, Mirror"

There was nothing about "Mirror, Mirror" that I hated, but there was also nothing that I really loved. I like the idea behind this movie, but am largely indifferent to the movie they did make.

Director Tarsem Singh Dhandwar and screenwriters Melissa Wallack and Jason Keller seemed to have set out to make a dizzyingly funny, satirical take on the classic "Snow White" fable by the Brothers Grimm. But the film repeatedly steps back from pure comedy and goes for amusing and charming. You can almost hear the studio honchos whispering in their ear, "Remember the 18-35 female demographic."

The tone is less "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" and more "Ella Enchanted." I think they should have given up on the sweet, mushy parts and gone for the Full Gilliam. Actually, I'm sort of piqued to see what Terry Gilliam could have done with this material and budget.

As you probably know, this is the first of two Snow White adaptations arriving in theaters this year. Later we get the dark-and-scary version, "Snow White and the Huntsman," where Snow gets into knife fights and wears more grime than ball gowns. Personally, I was much more looking forward to this one.

Julia Roberts plays the evil queen and serves as narrator, telling us right from the start that this is her story, not Snow's. That's not really true, but it should have been -- Roberts is easily the best thing about the movie. Instead of the whole cruel-and-evil stepmother gig, Roberts plays the queen as an over-spoiled movie star, toying with her vassals and using her vast powers to keep herself sitting pretty. She doesn't so much like ruling the kingdom as being the center of attention.

By contrast, Snow is a drab and flat character. As played by Lilly Collins, she's a castle shut-in who years for her long-lost father, who married the queen and then disappeared chasing a mythical beast in the forest. For a post-feminist princess, she's rather passive, only taking action after various male figures urge her to take up arms.

The prince here is Alcott, played by Armie Hammer as a vainglorious but good-hearted guy who gets caught between Snow and the queen. The queen wants to marry him and claim his vast wealth to refill her kingdom's empty coffers, but Alcott seems totally unaware of her erstwhile ardor. He's smitten by Snow instead, but then she disappears and takes up with the Dwarves.

The minimalist seven are a hoot, and the filmmakers actually manage to imbue each of them with some distinct personality. Danny Woodburn plays Grimm, the world-weary leader. Martin Klebba is Butcher, who's hardcore and wears a cowboy hat. Grub (Joe Gnoffo) is a big eater, Chuckles (Ronald Lee Clark) is a giggler and Wolf (Sebastian Saraceno) is the bruiser. Jordan Prentice adds a little soul as Napoleon, and Half Pint (Mark Povinelli) has an amusing, unrequited crush on Snow.

The dwarves in this iteration are itinerant highwaymen who live in the forest and rob travelers. They wear funky stilts that can expand and retract like accordions, turning them into giants who leap and twist about like Cirque du Soleil performers gone medieval.

The movie's version of the magic mirror is strange, and a little confusing. Instead of it being a mirror in her castle with a face that the queen converses with, she steps through a mirror into another dimension. She surfaces on a giant lake or ocean where some wooden huts have been built. Inside is the mirror with the magical spirit who is her servant, but looks like her own reflection -- though without any wrinkles, it wryly notes.

"They're not wrinkles! They're ... crinkles," the queen pouts adorably. One of the running jokes is that the queen is in denial about her own aging -- she insistently tells the prince that he and she are "about the same age" -- and kudos to Roberts for bravely tweaking her fading ingenue status.

So Snow joins up with the dwarves, becoming a thief, though a good-hearted one who returns the people's taxes to them. As is the staple in these sorts of movies, she also manages to become an expert swordsman over the course of a single musical interlude and montage.

My biggest problem with "Mirror, Mirror" is that it contained no surprises for me. Once you've established the slightly fractured take on the fairy tale -- which one can get just from watching the trailer -- all the story elements and character arcs fall neatly and predictably into place. Even the oft-referenced Beast in the forest contained no secrets, as I guessed his final disposition before we ever even see him.

"Mirror, Mirror" certainly isn't a bad movie, and there are a few wickedly funny moments and some glimpses of inspired characterizations. Alas, this spell only works sporadically.

2.5 stars out of four

Review: "In Darkness"

Was ever a film more aptly named than "In Darkness"? This true story about a group of Polish Jews who hid out in the sewers under their town for more than a year to escape the Nazi regime is a harrowing and deeply affecting tale with a solemn, at times morbid undertone. The film, directed by the great Polish director Agnieszka Holland ("Europa, Europa"), often exists in deep inky pools of little light.

The eye can hardly make out anything beyond a few fingers, the whiskers and feet of the ever-present rats, and perhaps a pair of eyes staring out from the self-imposed abyss. It reminded of one of John McCain's favorite quips, "It's always darkest before it turns totally dark."

Watching it is an often excruciatingly sad affair, but for those patient enough to endure the hard journey, there is joy in the human perseverance it spotlights. The movie well deserves its Oscar nomination for best foreign language film.

The movie, based on a book by Robert Marshall (screenplay by David F. Shamoon), begins unexpectedly. A pair of men wearing rough clothes are ransacking a ritzy house. A pretty young girl accompanied by a young man in a German uniform walk in on them. After a fight, the head thief stands over the fallen Nazi and berates the girl in the Polish language they share: Find a Polish boy to fuck instead, he orders.

This is Socha, who ostensibly is an inspector of the sewers under the town of Lvov, but is really a dabbler in various schemes to make himself ... well, certainly not rich, but more comfortable. He shares a cramped one-room apartment with his wife and daughter, whom he loves deeply and wants to provide for. If that means stealing, or taking bribes, or extorting money, then so be it.

Robert Wieckiewicz plays Socha with conviction and and a rough sort of purity. His blocky face and burly torso give the impression of a man not given to giving up easily. Socha begins the story motivated purely by self-interest, and by the end he has become a sort of Polish Oskar Schindler.

When Socha discovers a group of Jews who have burrowed out of their ghetto and into his sewer tunnels, he instantly sees an opportunity. For a handsome daily fee, he will lead them to safety and hide them from the Nazis. When the Germans decide to empty all the Jews out of the ghetto and put them into concentration camps, a small horde of them make their way into the sewers. Socha is adamant: He can only hide 10. He coldly forces the Jews to decide which of their number will be saved.

The leader of the remaining Jews is Mundek (Benno Fürmann), who calls himself Pirate, and is something of a nefarious counterpart to Socha himself. The two are wary of each other, mentally circling one another like wolves, but eventually form a bond that's not exactly one of trust, but perhaps mutual regard for the other's steadfastness.

Chiger (Herbert Knaup) is a wealthy professor who insists upon bringing his entire family, a wife and two small children, into hiding in the labyrinths of the sewers. Klara (Agnieszka Grochowska) is a young woman who frets for her sister, who refused to make the journey into the dank underground and (perhaps?) still lives in one of the camps. Mundek clearly adores her, but is respectful of Klara's fears not to foist his intentions upon her until the fate of her sibling is resolved.

As the months roll by, the situation becomes more and more desperate. Socha moves them from one corner of the sewers to the other to keep them hidden from the Germans, who have reports of Jews living among the rats. Socha is friends with the Ukranian local commander, and leads him on wild goose chases.

Meanwhile, Socha's financial killing becomes more of a burden. The local grocer, suspecting that the huge load of food he buys is not for his family, starts charging him double, eating into his profits. Soon Chiger, who had been bankrolling the operation, runs out of cash and has to trust Socha with some jewels he had buried aboveground for emergencies. Socha's wife (Kinga Preis) threatens to leave him because of his insistence on helping Jews to the point where his own family is endangered.

Some people may tire of these troubling tales from World War II, but I never do. It was such a pivotal event in human history, you could keep telling stories from it for a hundred years and never come near to exhausting all the stories of human grace and debasement. "In Darkness" does both, with power and filthy majesty.

3.5 stars out of four

Video Review: "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close"

"Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close" is probably the most disrespected film ever nominated for a Best Picture Oscar.

This challenging drama was directed by high-toned director Stephen Daldry ("Billy Elliot," "The Reader") and adapted from Jonathan Safran Foer’s best-selling novel by screenwriter Eric Roth ("Forrest Gump"). Despite that prestigious pedigree, and the presence of major stars Tom Hanks and Sandra Bullock, "Loud" barely received a theatrical release. And reviews generally ranged from indifferent to openly hostile.

Me? I rushed it into the #3 slot on my Top 10 slot at the last minute.

Those lambasting the film seem to regard it as cynically manipulating the decade-old tragedy of 9/11, as a young boy searches the city of New York for clues to a game he played with his father, who died in the World Trade Center. I think these critics erroneously tried to force the label of "the definitive 9/11 movie" on the film, when really it's more a ruminative tale about a very specific, very unusual child.

As played with devastating effect by newcomer Thomas Horn, Oskar Schell is a brilliant but shy boy, possibly autistic, whose only substantial human relationship was with his dad (Hanks). When he dies, Oskar doggedly pursues the mystery behind one of the puzzle-like adventures his father would concoct for him, mostly as a ruse to force him to interact with other people.

As he traipses all around New York, encountering strangers and learning to come out of his shell, Oskar retraces the steps of his family life, and discovers that the mother he’d always kept at a distance is anything but uncaring. It’s a bracing, sad and joyous journey.

Video extras are pretty good, but not spectacular. The Blu-ray/DVD combo comes with a digital copy of the film and several featurettes.

The heart of the package is a making-of documentary that includes substantial participation by Daldry, his cast and crew. Other mini-documentaries focus on the search for an actor to play Oskar – Horn was, astonishingly, a total novice – and the lasting impact of 9/11 10 years later.

One of the more original pieces is a featurette about Max Von Sydow’s Oscar-nominated turn as a mute stranger who wanders into Oskar’s life, directed by Von Sydow’s own son.

Movie: 3.5 stars out of four
Extras: 3 stars

Reeling Backward: "Under Ten Flags" (1960)

"Under Ten Flags" is a really amazing true-life story that would make a great subject for a movie, but the one they did make is horribly executed.

Consider: During the early days of World War II before American entered the conflict, a single German merchant ship was converted into a stealth weapon that single-handedly destroyed 22 enemy boats. It did so by disguising itself as a harmless fellow merchant vessel, taking its targets by surprise so they rarely even had a chance to get off a radio signal -- capturing and/or sinking them with no warning and very little bloodshed. Allied forces and the mighty British navy pursued this "ghost ship" for more than a year, but the brilliant German captain outwitted them again and again.

The saga of the Atlantis is indeed a true tale, one known widely in circles of academics and naval history buffs but novel to most audiences. Unfortunately, the 1960 movie about her exploits is a ham-handed and convoluted mess that unnecessarily piles on sexy girls and a long espionage sequence on top of the seafaring adventure.

The title refers to the ability of the Atlantis to disguise itself into ships of different nationalities -- carrying paint, lumber, a dummy smokestack funnel and even costumes for the crew members to wear. In the first battle in the movie, the Germans dress in kimonos and pretend to be Japanese women, before unfurling their guns and ordering a British merchantman to stand to. In fact, according to the ship's Wikipedia page, it was capable of transforming itself into 26 distinct silhouettes.

Dino De Laurentiis was known at this time as a producer of schlocky Italian movies, and "Under Ten Flags" shows its low-rent roots. The battle sequences are essentially stitched-together pieces of stock footage, including the same ship's guns being fired over and over again. The shipboard sets and backgrounds are cheesy and dull, and the camera is always kept so tightly on the actors we suspect nothing was built more than a foot out of frame.

Van Heflin and Charles Laughton are the stars. Heflin tries to put some oomph into his character, Captain Bernhard Rogge, as the lonely man of integrity in a hellish, dehumanizing war. In fact, that's one of the few ways in which this film stands out, as an early depiction of German heroics during WWII. Even two decades later, "Das Boot" caught plenty of flack for showing members of the Nazi military armada as noble and ingenious.

Laughton, though, looks like he's just collecting a paycheck, scurrying through his dialogue with up-and-down cadences that are often hard to follow. All of his scenes take place inside the British naval command center, which means the most he has to do is occasionally get out from behind his desk and walk down some stairs into the map room to bellow orders.

In all movies showing WWII Germans as anything but uniformly evil, there's always an obligatory flunky who burns with the righteousness of a true believer in the Reich, and threatens to report his commander for not wantonly slaying all of Germany's enemies. Here his name is Krüger (John Ericson), who appears to be wearing black eyeliner to depict his character's evil ways.

Perhaps the film's most oft-putting aspect is the time spent exploring a few of the prisoners who are kept aboard the Atlantis. (They cannot be released because they would tell the Allies about the ship's secretive methods.) When they're finally released near the end, they're positively giddy with joy and thank Captain Rogge for his hospitality -- a pretty doubtful outcome for people kept forcibly in a dank ship's hold for months on end.

Mylène Demongeot plays Zizi, a Parisian sexpot who cavorts around in short-shorts and a hairdo that's Bridget Bardot circa 1960, not a French traveler in 1940. She makes some goo-goo eyes at Krüger, before deciding he's not bold enough to deserve such a hot babe as herself.

There is also a Jewish couple who try unsuccessfully to hide their identity from the Nazis, but are protected by Rogge from Krüger's machinations. This is doubtless showbiz hoopla, but curiously the film does not reveal why Rogge might be sympathetic to their case -- in real life he had a Jewish grandparent, and had to receive special dispensation before he was allowed to serve in the Nazi regime's military forces.

The other big distraction is an extended espionage sequence where an American spy is given plastic surgery to impersonate a German intelligence officer so he can sneak into their Berlin headquarters and steal some navigational codes used to track the Atlantis. It goes on and on, and the payoff is laughably bad.

He gets into the room where the codes are kept in a big safe, with high-tech "infrared beams" ready to set off an alarm. (Again, this seems the sort of thing plausible in 1960 but not 1940.) Wearing special glasses, the spy scoots across the floor between the beams, which are represented in the film as wires or sticks criss-crossing the room -- you can even see where they're anchored into the floor!

I have no idea if this whole spy angle is true -- screenwriters Vittoriano Petrilli, Duilio Coletti (who also directed), Ulrich Möhr and Leonardo Bercovici worked from the personal diaries of Rogge. What I do know is that it distracts the story completely away from the Atlantis and its travels.

Though, considering the cheesy and overly self-serious goings-on aboard the Atlantis, perhaps as little time spent there, the better.

1.5 stars out of four

Video review: "The Muppets"

The Muppets are back, and now they're Oscar-winning Muppets!

The successful reboot of the dormant puppet franchise of Jim Henson is a joyous walk down memory lane for Generation X kids like me who grew up on Kermit, Missy Piggy, Fozzie Bear and the rest of the gang. Now they can bring their own moppets to see the Muppets, and the cinematic circle of life is competed.

The film even picked up an Academy Award for best song (though I am compelled to point out it only had one competitor, in one of the weakest contests in Oscar history).

Jason Segal and Amy Adams are the human stars, though they're mostly just hanging around to set up the Muppets and their antics. (Segal also co-wrote the screenplay.) The running gag is that the Muppets are washed up and forgotten, until their old theater in Los Angeles is scheduled to be demolished by an evil oil tycoon (Chris Cooper), who thinks there's black gold underneath it.

The new character is Walter (voiced by Peter Linz), a Muppet who grew up with humans and thinks he is one, too. He's always been obsessed with Kermit & Co., and gets a chance to track down his old heroes and bring them back together for the proverbial One Last Show.

Director James Bobin goes for a blend of high and low humor -- pratfalls and silliness for the kiddies, and wry puns and breaking of the fourth wall for their parents. It's a good mix, and it's good to see the old gang again.

Video extras are quite good, though you have to ante up for the Blu-ray combo edition to get most of the best stuff. The DVD comes with a single featurette, dubbed "The Longest Blooper Reel Ever Made."

Upgrade to the DVD/Blu-ray combo pack and you gain several more featurettes, including the full version of the rap song sung by villain Tex Richman. You also get deleted scenes, Easter eggs and audio commentary with the director and screenwriters.

Go for the three-disc "Wocka-Wocka Value Pack," and you add the musical soundtrack.
The feature that's the most fun: when you pause the Blu-ray, the Muppets take over the screen for a special "Disney intermission."

Movie: 3 stars out of four
Extras: 3 stars

Reeling Backward: "Yojimbo" (1961)

I have a suggestion that may shock some students of Japanese filmmaker Akira Kurosawa: "Yojimbo" is actually a comedy.

The 1961 jidaigeki (period drama) is representative of Kurosawa's career: A lone warrior finds himself at the center of a struggle between two gangs running an isolated town, and works to leverage the situation to his advantage. The movie was greatly inspired by American Westerns, especially the final showdown with a duel in the street (though our hardy protagonist takes on 10 villains, not just one).

In turn, "Yojimbo" became a touchstone for Westerns and other genre films, essentially launching the Spaghetti Western movement with the 1964 Sergio Leone remake, "A Fistful of Dollars." Consider: No "Yojimbo," and today Clint Eastwood would probably be (barely) remembered as a TV star.

So many memes emerged from this film that would affect cinema for decades hence, especially the idea of the "man with no name," where the identity and background of the hero is less important than the actions he takes. Also notable is that the protagonist takes great pains to present himself as an opportunistic mercenary, but repeatedly performs altruistic acts in the face of depravity (often paying a harsh personal price for his good deeds).

But what gets lost in all this discussion about the film's iconic status is just how damn funny it often is.

Start with the rambunctious, percussive musical score by Masaru Satô, especially the jaunty little march that accompanies the ronin (masterless samurai) whenever he is about to take some significant action. Listening to that jig while he saunters boldly up the street gives the impression of a preening rooster reveling in his status as the cock of the walk.

Clearly, the hero himself (Kurosawa mainstay Toshirô Mifune) enjoys the action unfolding in front of him, often commenting upon how entertaining or amusing he finds the conflict between the two gangs. The epitome of this is when he positions himself upon a tower to watch the coming battle between the henchman of Ushitora (Kyû Sazanka) and Seibei (Seizaburô Kawazu) in the street below. He laughs at their posturing and halfhearted charges, which invariably falter as they approach the enemy and actual bloodshed is threatened.

One of the running jokes in the movie is how terrible all the warriors are except for Two Bit -- as the ronin is disparagingly nicknamed by Ushitora's men. Expert combat skills are a hallmark of Kurosawa's films, as evidenced by "The Seven Samurai" and other movies where samurai spend their entire lives honing amazing abilities with the blade. In "Yojimbo," the henchmen recruited by the two sides are runaway farm boys and small-time thieves who rely more on bullying than actual skill.

For all we know, Two Bit may be an only modestly talented combatant, but compared to the scags he's up against, he's a whirlwind who goes through them like butter. He takes on six at once without breaking a sweat, and even the final showdown vs. 10 is only marginally tougher for him.

For Kurosawa to make a movie in which skill at swordplay is so terrible is a pun in of itself ... imagine John Ford making a Western where nobody could hit anything with a six-shooter.

It also seems that the ronin doesn't take himself too seriously, either. As the film opens he comes across a fork in the road, and throws a stick in the air to decide what direction to take. He also declines to give anyone in the town his real name, staring out a the window before offering "Kuwabatake Sanjuro," or "30-year-old mulberry field." He also has the playful habit of tucking his arms inside his robes, reaching through the neck hole to scratch at his whiskers in a display of uncouth casualness.

Whether or not you agree that "Yojimbo" -- the title means "bodyguard" -- is intentionally funny, it's hard to deny that it's one of the truly great Japanese films.

4 stars out of four