The Playboy Club vs. Pan Am

Two shows set out to evoke the verve of 1960's America, feverishly digging into nostalgia for those who remember and sparking fantasy for those who cannot. One spilling out of its corset, espousing the lavish nightlife and mystique of the era's most favored fetish. The other neatly tucked into uniform, bright and airy with the promise of the world before it. A comparison not unlike Batman and Superman, Gotham City versus Metropolis, if you will. Ensemble casts, superb production, and entwining storylines are found in both, but it's really only one that edges out…

THE PLAYBOY CLUB

NBC took a bold move signing up for this one, and their hearts were probably in the right place. Certainly the network was searching for any kind of drama to bring it some notice, least alone some critical cachet found by the likes of AMC's Madmen, which can't be ignored as inspiration. The Playboy Club as an entity comes with heaping bagfuls of history and backstory. Sex appeal is front and center, and it's the good kind. "Good" meaning innocent and coquettish, all costumes and cleavage. The premise -- the adventures and goings on of the women who work the iconic ears and tail-- seems like a can't miss. Well, on Cable, perhaps. On Network? With all it has going for it, the inability of a NBC to really take some risks to allow the series to get beyond its dressing becomes its greatest block. This disappointment seems unnecessary, since Network, even NBC, is more than capable of creating and sustaining a great one-hour drama.

It's not even about sex. There's a nice helping of sex alongside the obvious built-in appeal in the first three episodes. It comes down to the ham-fisted approach of character introduction and lackluster plot lines, many seen coming a mile away alongside others that have come too many times before. Ironically one of the most interesting subplots introduced is the least touched upon: Leah Renee Cudmore playing Bunny Alice, a closeted lesbian "married" to her closeted gay husband Sean, Sean Maher. The two have teamed up in the still conservative 60's to protect each other's identities while clandestinely attempting to further acceptance via an underground organization. Each characters' circumstances both inside the club and out show legitimate promise with parallels to today's equal rights issues.

In comparison, other characters could more than use origins as half as interesting. Leading man Eddie Cibrian as Nick Dalton is so straight as the would-be political avenger, he becomes little more than a stubbly mannequin in a nice suit. His political aspirations and loose mob ties are tired story points and do little to make him worth following. The stars of the show, the Bunnies, fare better, but not much. The new one, the tough one, the domineering one, the sassy one, the nice one-- they're all here. They are quick to point out the rules of The Club for us sheltered viewers and labor over the trials of being a Bunny. Not that they aren't real or accurate; so far the exposition, if forced, is all up to par. Many tidbits seem quoted verbatim from Katherine Leigh Scott's "The Bunny Years," an outstanding account of life working for the The Playboy Club, and not suprisingly cited as one of the sources for the series.

What brings the Bunnies life are the actresses beneath the ears. Each of course stunning to look at in uniform and out (more so in), they do their damnedest to deliver on the mediocre scripts and situations. If anything, The Playboy Club is a breakout vehicle for Amber Heard who plays ingénue Bunny Maureen. She seems born for playing the era, the camera loves her and the sight of her strutting around in satin is often more than enough reason to sit through an entire episode. Meanwhile, Laura Benanti vies for equal attention as Carol Lynn. Lithe and dark haired in a black bunny suit, she really can command attention even if the script forces her to be artificially bitchy. As a performer at the club in addition to her "Bunny Mother" duties, Carol Lynn is front and center in some of the more enjoyable sequences of the show.

Though the stories lack oomph, where The Playboy Club shines is in its gorgeous production value. Many scenes are shot with cinematic composition, and the overall direction is solid. There are scene upon scene with wonderful lighting and fantastic sets, mainly in the Club proper. Every set piece in the show is drenched in color, harmonic alongside the dreamy costuming the era has to offer. There are Emmys to be had here on the production side, were the show able to vie for them. Any fan of what The Playboy Club has to offer visually would not be disappointed.

Alas, we'll never know if the Bunnies would have found a groove (or some decent story lines), as The Playboy Club was the first of NBC's new fall season to get the axe!


PAN AM

Over on ABC, who rides quite a wave from shepherding several successful dramas in recent years (when not blatantly trying to recreate Lost), a refreshing entry is found in Pan Am. In many ways, it and The Playboy Club are the same show. Similar premise, similar setting, similar character archetypes, and a few more comparisons aren't hard to make. Yet the sun-blasted skyways of Pan Am become the Yin to the dark nights and stage lights of The Playboy Club's Yang.

Subconsciously we've already been set up for loving a show about Pan Am stewardesses, in that we've been given the best the concept could offer in Spielberg's Catch Me if You Can. To call Pan Am its spiritual successor is just shy of the obvious, it's as if it was merely waiting for the right time to come to fruition. Again we have production values literally reaching for the sky. Extravagant establishing shots and cinematic flair are punctuated by the spot on costuming and set design. Surely this is the dream-like remembrance of the 1960's at the peak of its entry into international travel.

The story benefits greatly from a few extensions to the focal setting, even if one or two border on the far fetched. First and most successfully is the use of flashbacks to vastly open the plot lines and provide welcome escapes from the cramped and claustrophobic airplane cabin, as nice as it is in the heyday of air travel. These flashbacks provide welcome backstory while also tying various characters together in different ways.

Guiding us above the clouds is a endearing cast of actresses who can live up to the task of making us want to fly along. The audience very quickly gets to learn there is more to these stewardesses than the uniform, and not just "girl with a mysterious past." The appearance of Christina Ricci is a welcome surprise as Maggie, the sharp beatnik wholly aware of the irony of her career. Margo Robbie takes the role of the token newcomer as the lovely Laura, but it's her sister Kate played by Kelli Garner who is the real star of the show. Rounding out the quartet of featured players is the sultry Karine Vanasse as Colette, who remains as playful as she is sweet with a French accent of which you just can't seem to tire.

One of the reaches the show makes centers around Kate's introduction into the world of... espionage. Seeing her career as an international traveler the perfect cover for delicate operations, Kate is dutifully recruited by the CIA. This waves every flag for going awkwardly wrong, but so far it's working as a foil for both the aforementioned flashbacks and future conflicts. Alias this is not, but even a light throwback to The Avengers or Mission Impossible is not the worst that could become of this development. Thankfully this device also opens up the show immensely to romantic world locations, another advantage it has over the singular locale and surrounding city of The Playboy Club. Overall the script and story is handled better and smarter than one might expect, bolstered by the crisp surroundings and attractive, talented cast.

An odd side effect of the show may have you grumbling of just how amazingly crappy it is to travel in modern times. There's no doubt the show idealizes the lifestyle purposely, but that doesn't make it sting any less. This is not to begrudge the workers of modern airlines, who's job it is to keep sane as much as the rest of us, but one can't help but imagine what such a traveling environment could have been like.

So... With each painted in the pastiche of a past era, we're given the choice of decadent night life versus shiny air travel. The ever-grey limits of Network television allow only one contender to stand out for now. Winner: Pan Am.

Inception

Inception at its core is a heist movie and in this it follows procedure dutifully. There's the hardened veteran, his right hand man, an estranged love with unclear loyalties, the crew of assembled regulars, the wild card, and of course the inductee. Delve deeper into the formula and even more archetypes and familiar plot points appear. The only real originality in this ensemble is "the score" and the setting it resides in.

But what a setting.

The big caper, the "one last job," goes down in a dream. A realm both intangible but wholly realized. The dream has it's own rules, regulations, caveats and threats. The goal of the heist adds an extra layer of clever, the gang is charged to place something instead of taking. When looked at from afar, it all remains incredibly simple, which heaps the weight of its success onto the execution.

But what an execution.

Christopher Nolan has upped his game by taking a genre that is well loved (and often well represented) into a cinematic experience as fresh and exciting as ever. Watching Inception play out is a reminder of why we love movies. The base premise is interesting enough, invading dreams with the ability to manipulate and control the world around oneself is plenty to set anyone's fantasies afire. But it's the story that is so goddamned well crafted that the viewer is drawn into it just as deeply as the characters themselves. The concept remains simple, but storyline quickly becomes terribly complex as newer and more radical concepts are introduced. We are eased in, one concept at a time, and just as the stakes are raised, so too become the tiers both the players and the viewer must navigate. By the time Inception is entrenched in its own plot the film is working on a dizzying number of levels, all wrapped around themselves and spinning pure story magic. Dreams are happening within dreams within dreams, timelines of each compounded and compressed. It builds and unfolds like origami from an invisible hand of a master craftsman and it is all immensely entertaining.

Every cliche is spun sideways as they cause their own twists and ripple effects in the dreams they inhabit. A car chase in one dream affects a fight scene in another. Nail-biting minutes on one level translate into precious seconds on its predecessor. Action and drama are presented in pop-corn chomping awe with imagery that will be pretty hard to forget in today's love 'em and leave 'em tentpole onslaughts. This is high praise, although the truth is it's hard to ignore when it's all up on screen.



The cast of actors is just as refreshing. DiCaprio's Cobb anchors the film with a deserved leading man maturity, but his supporting cast lights up around him, even alongside Nolan's oft-featured stable of go-to's. Standouts include Ellen Paige's portrayal of dream architect Ariadne, who covers the role of leading viewers around the world while maintaining a smart and insightful determination of her own. Most fun to watch is Joseph Gordon-Levitt's Arthur, Cobb's number two who is given more than his fair share of weight to pull. Aurthur's shining moment comes in a hotel hallway fight scene that is one of those "gotta see it" experiences, a display of brute force amid freefall interwoven throughout the film's climax.

The hard science behind much of Inception's dream-wrangling is glossed over, seemingly a non-detail vehicle that allows the characters to traverse an incredible landscape. In writing and directing, Nolan chooses his battles to give the audience the most bang for the buck. A see-saw of delivery, at times exposition can be spooned with as much grace as a toddler's meal, only to be followed by sophisticated mind games relentlessly piled on top of one another with barely a breath between. The dream worlds warp and transform around all of it, the characters swim between them in search goals both tangible and nebulous. What's created is a great, great movie. Although with acclaim coming in steady streams, there is still the voice of opposition that demands to be heard in our age, as if no film is deserving enough to just be labeled as "good." In fact it's not entirely easy to lay it on as thick as what's been written here without some introspection, yet the thrill of leaving the theater after the credit roll still lingers. The La Times positions that Inception has polarized critics, citing multiple views confusing the overall effect of the film. Quoting Newsweek's David Ansen, "We live in an era when there's a tendency to overvalue anything that's even slightly good. In another era I don't know if we'd see gushing enthusiasm." Dear lord, it's baffling how much that statement cannibalizes itself given the state of Hollywood today. Inception is a superbly crafted, genre-bending watermark now-- "in another era" it's hard to think of the impact such a film would have had!

Need to cut through it?

"Inception is awesome."

Okay?

Avatar

If a director of unheradled success takes a nearly a decade off before his next offering, that offering has little choice than to be Avatar. Spectacle, epic, love story, parable, technological achievement, Avatar is all these things with not an apology in sight. It is what is in sight, the mind-numbing array of hyper-realized visuals and staccato surround-sound action, that makes the film memorable. You can't help it. You don't have to even like it, but Avatar is throwing things at your eyeballs that your brain barely has time to process, and aren't soon to forget.

As both director and storyteller, James Cameron gives us something wholly his own, under his direct command, for the first time in his career where there are no limits. This is where Avatar is above all things a Cameron film, the flora and fauna of Pandora his fictional stage upon which to set his (literal) star-crossed lovers and white knuckle action sequences. And each is done to exacting specification-- no stone un-rendered, no dramatic expense spared. The story of a crippled marine who's given a chance to see the world as an alien creature and experience its profoundly naturalistic culture... is there any question from the first minute what his destiny is? As such it is too easily dismissed as a plot point, which perhaps ironically is to Avatar's benefit.



What Avatar does not do is herald some new age of film, science fiction or not. The core audience is just too old, those who've likely seen hundreds if not thousands of movies. Every sci-fi trope is thrown at us with abandon, almost insistence, as if Cameron had a checklist he wanted to put out one more time. The script is rife with clichéd one-liners, the absolute minimal techno-babble, and overwrought with mother-earth preaching among zero-subtlety politics. But if one were to put cynicism aside, there still exists that magical time in a young person's life where they haven't "seen it all," and it is this narrow window that will captivate untold viewers like all of our favorite movies once did in the past. And it is that very same notion that Avatar will successfully tap into with everyone else, delivering each multi-genre example of itself with the precision of a sledgehammer. Be it geekery, romance, exploration, fantasy, or explosions, Avatar delivers each with enough blunt force to bring any audience into submission long enough for Cameron to see his story through. At times that story is just plain weird, for every visual "wow" moment there seems to be palpable "WTF?" story element. It's unknown wether to berate or smirk at these choices, but it doesn't matter since the film is constantly bombarding the viewer with all things fantastic to re-draw attention, likely by design.



Regardless of how well or haphazardly the above is delivered, what Avatar does do is present a fully realized fictional world unlike any before. Pandora cannot be denied in its visualization on screen, and the sheer scope of its screen time is staggering considering the endeavor involved in making it come to life. The technical achievement is arguably here and not with the blue, nine-foot feline humanoids that run through it. Every plant, leaf, rock, stream, insect-- you name it -- is there and it is alive. A mixture of fantasy ideals from both film and literature ride the line between wholly believable and somewhat plausible to outright dream imagery in motion. The culmination of this is seen in the night scenes of the bioluminescent forest, a dark-light mind-trip cradling the electric life force that is Pandora. Surely the impact and breadth of Pandora is a prominent, if subliminal, element for the audience to attach itself to, which makes its foreshadowed destruction all the harder to watch when the evils of mankind must rear its ugly head.



Mankind is at its ugliest in Avatar, opening Cameron's floodgates for that which he does best, balls-out action. In the battle between marines and aliens, there is no scenario Cameron leaves untouched in the ultimate game of, well, cowboys and indians. The Earth-sanctioned military employs massive drop shops and mech-warrior battle suits, the alien Navi hurl poison arrows and fly dragons. Soldiers plow down acres of forrest with round after round of heavy ammunition, only to be trampled by building-sized, prehistorically-styled rhinoceri. The dragon-like Banshee tear into VTOL copters, ripping engines apart like paper and flinging them into the floating cliffsides that each navigate with perilous speed. These sequences can barely contain description, at their breakneck pace and relentless onslaught of in-your-face hostility. To say Cameron is in his element here gleefully rides distinct understatement.



Amongst all the flight and fancy, the 3D experience is negligible for some, a necessity for others. For Avatar to be the "make or break" movie to bring the current technology to a mass audience, there simply isn't enough to set itself apart from the regular experience. Arrows flying at the audience have pretty much the same effect on Earth as they do on Pandora. Ultimately the audience will create itself out of moviegoers who genuinely enjoy the gimmick, because films of the budget, breadth, and balls of Avatar will be few and far between. As much talk as there was by theaters, technicians, and studios that would wager wether or not Avatar would re-define the moviegoing experiences of the future, how could any of each accommodate or even expect Avatar-level films on a basis regular enough to fulfill the prophecy? For the price of one Avatar, a dozen slasher or kiddie CG pics could be made and draw the same audience. And a small reminder on 3D box office receipts: 3D films average at a $14 ticket and up, way up for IMAX, which significantly tweaks audience/ticket sales reports.

Third dimension aside, Avatar puts itself forward and predominately succeeds in everything it claims to be. It needn't deliver on all counts no matter the effort employed to do so, for each part of the whole is at a level high enough to satisfy expectations low and high alike. For the seasoned cinema goer it holds an undeniable awe be it in genuine appreciation or sarcastic disbelief. Among the far more numerous popcorn chompers Avatar crowbars its uniqueness with no small amount of bravado. Any focused inspection could certainly begin to de-weave the haphazard series of events and CG magician-ship, but it would remain far beside the entertainment brought by the flamboyant pageantry. In Avatar's case it is more than enough.

Be Kind Rewind

Michel Gondry's film opens with a documentary about jazz musician Fats Waller relating his roots in the small town of Passaic, New Jersey and specifically a particular brownstone on one corner of the neighborhood. As you watch this documentary complete with file footage, it becomes more apparent that members of the film's cast seem to appear in the documentary, including the proprietor of Be Kind Rewind, an elderly gentleman who bares a remarkable resemblance to Danny Glover. Without making much ado over this "poorly concealed" fact, the documentary footage ends as the film proper begins.

This documentary we are introduced to actually serves as the backbone both for the characters' story and the overall narrative. It returns every once in a while acting as "Greek Chorus" offering parallels that serve as commentary on the situation of the characters. As we learn of Mr. Fletcher's (Danny Glover) dilemma of trying to keep his small, VHS rental video store afloat, one of the film's important metaphors comes to light. Be Kind Rewind is a small business run by one man that offers personal service and a distinctive film selection in an ever increasing landscape of chain DVD rental stores that cater to the lowest common denominator. Craft and some may say "taste" are slowly succumbing to the strengthening chokehold of marketing and convention. One of the issues of contemporary film, at least in the sense of the general landscape, challenging the industry today is the increasing loss of originality and individuality of films released, particularly by the major studios. Tent pole projects practically steamroll over smaller films who can not compete with the marketing war chest it takes these days to attract a substantial market share. At the same time, so-called "producers" rely more and more on gimmicks, gags, and effects as a means to dazzle audiences rather than actually tell them a story; in turn, the viewing public's expectations decrease as the ease with which they are entertained increases. This is plainly stated when Mr. Fletcher is told by a fellow Fats Waller devotee to adapt to the times, to cater to the masses as a means to save his shop.
It is therefore good fortune that the film smoothly and quickly moves to the central dilemma on which the film is marketed. Left in charge by Mr. Fletcher who goes away on a trip to both celebrate the anniversary of Fats Waller's death and go on a fact finding mission to assess the competition, Mike (Mos Def) is faced the daunting task of recreating the store's catalog of VHS films which have been erased by Jerry (Jack Black) in a fantastical conceit that is easy to swallow thanks to the human underpinnings of why Mike must keep up all appearances while Mr. Fletcher is away. Mos Def proves capable in delivering a subdued and simple performance in his portrayal of Mike, particularly when it comes to his respect for Mr. Fletcher as both a manager and a surrogate father figure. Special mention must also go to Jack Black for turning in a much more ensemble performance one might not expect when considering his other works as lead. Here, he allows other actors to have the scene, generously allowing the entire cast an opportunity to "be" while he accents their performances. Jack Black fans may be disappointed that the comedy of Be Kind Rewind is much more understated than say, School of Rock.
This is particularly important when the pair begin the task of recreating Ghost Busters to fulfill a customer's request. The humor should be grounded in their attempts to remake the film's famous scenes with the limited resources and time they possess. Audiences laugh with their inventiveness rather than at individual antics. There is something quite satisfying in Mike and Jerry's solutions based on their memory of the film. With all manner of jury rigged contraptions, a shoulder-mounted VHS camera, and one take, they utilize perhaps a not-so-exaggerated guerilla filmmaking style to accomplish their goal.

In essence, Be Kind Rewind is writer/director Gondry's love letter to independent filmmaking as well as the filmmaking spirit. The plot device of trying to cover up the loss of the catalog is only a vehicle for the next metaphor of the film, that of creativity. Gondry sets up situations for the main characters to problem solve. As they take on their next recreation, there is great delight in witnessing what they do to cheaply and quickly film a hit buddy film set in Hong Kong. His subtle message is that passion is the first, most important ingredient in the filmmaking process drives even his own directorial style for the film. There is a naturalness to the style of the film that belies it's budget. There are not a lot of overly composed shots. In fact, some of the setups are somewhat "dirty" while framing is not heavily enforced on the actors. It seems Gondry was more interested in capturing the passion of Mike, Jerry, and the others they begin to inspire as their remakes become more popular than the originals, prompting neighborhood residents to join in the magic and joy of making films. This is best exemplified in a terrific one take shot of the community helping Mike and Jerry recreate several well-known films. Moving from one famous scene to the next, some of the simplest, practical, yet creative in-camera techniques used in films past are on parade; Gondry allows all the backstage trickery to be seen, for the cast and "crew" to frame-in, and the imperfections to show as this segment is not about the final product, but about how the final product came to be. It is perhaps his personal standing ovation to old-fashioned, homespun ingenuity that is slowly dying in a world where films are being written around effects shots.



Naturally, just as Mike and Jerry and their capable crew are reaching the pinnacles of success, with customers lining up outside the store, the party comes to an abrupt end in perhaps the weakest segment of the film. Now that the store is filled with "sweded" films (the term used to describe remaking films), this ultimately attracts the attention of the Hollywood studios and their lawyers, personified by Sigourney Weaver, who bring all manner of legalese, forms, and threats of grossly overestimated penalties to Mr. Fletcher just as he was seeing hope for his little shop. Ultimately, the issue of copyright and intellectual property would have had to be addressed in a film of this nature, however, Sigourney and company breeze in and out of the film so fast that it seems almost fruitless to have brought it up in the first place. Granted it was probably not Gondry's intention to debate this issue via allegory, but one can't help but wish for something a bit meatier than what was presented. Regardless, the air seems to have been let out of the bid to save Be Kind Rewind. However, the community rallies, intent on filming something original...for the shop, and for themselves. At this point the film nicely bookends with the beginning as the Fats Waller documentary returns. This time, however, the making of the documentary is revealed. The contributions by everyone in the neighborhood to the scenes previously interjected into the film show people of all walks of life providing their little touches of creativity, including how they achieved the hand-cranked camera effect for the file footage. There is energy in the air, and the neighborhood is alive. Bringing the community together is perhaps the film's most salient point. Though the impetus for making the film was for a charity screening to benefit Be Kind Rewind, Gondry clearly shows that the process of filmmaking has affected everyone in Passaic, or at least those within the area around the shop. When the "curtain" rises on the screening of the finished product and everyone's hard work, the satisfaction on people's faces represents that it is not about what can be gained from films, but from what stories or storytelling does for people. The format choice of VHS seems to be quite intentional and effective if parallels are to be drawn with the home movie. Home movies are personal storytelling and the passing on of history at its most basic and accessible to the general public. The documentary the community creates may not be factual with regards to history, but it is the history they believe in. It is the story they wish to tell.

The ending may be a bit of a conundrum after initial viewing. However, upon consideration, there is something appropriate about it and credit must be given to Gondry for avoiding a manufactured emotional moment no matter how "right" it might have been. As is, the film closes leaving the viewer with sensations of nostalgia, of wanting to visit old haunts, and wondering if things you remember are still there. Is Be Kind Rewind Video Store still there? Bittersweet perhaps, but a fitting cap to a film about the increasing loss of simplicity, with the hope that it is and can be kept alive...somewhere.

Moon

Is Moon an example of art house science fiction, or a throwback to sci-fi of years past? There are several points to both sides, but there is no arguing the quality of this haunting, understated film.

Moon is primarily a character study, that of astronaut and caretaker Sam Bell. Sam is the sole occupant of a mining station on Earth's moon, at which is produced a valuable energy source that has all but eliminated Earth's dependancy of fossil fuels. Sam is the one human required to maintain order and step up to fix any glitches or bugs in the mostly automated mining process. Sam's sole companion is GERTY, a computer artificial intelligence that runs the station as well as providing for Sam's basic needs. Due to continuing complications with the com system, Sam's communication with Earth has been primarily through recorded messages, and Gerty has been Sam's only "live" contact for some time.

As one might expect, there is a heightened sense of isolationism and early hints at Sam succumbing to some form of "space madness," his interactions with Gerty only fueling the mystery. But the mystery itself is exposed in short order, being merely the opening to a much deeper, unexpected conflict who's resolution develops into something staggeringly complex. This is where heart of the film takes hold as Sam struggles with his situation, as does Gerty. There are many elements evocative to sci-fi contemporaries 2001 and Solaris (the former being a rightfully lauded classic, the later (Soderbergh remake) highly under-appreciated).

It is hard to imagine the pressure placed on an actor to carry an entire film, yet the portrayal of Sam Bell by Sam Rockwell appears effortless. This could be due in part to sheer talent or an uncanny level of comfort with being in front of a camera, and is probably a bit of both. There are several Rockwell-isms that fans of his work will enjoy, altho the traversal of character that is employed over the duration of the film is pretty damn impressive. Kevin Spacey provides the cool, calm voice of Gerty with an unashamed channeling of Douglas Rain's HAL 9000. This in and of itself in execution is more like the comfort of a favored t-shirt rather than the clichéd gimmick it could have been, so Spacey does get some points for that.



Sam's moon base isolation is set in a non-defined future that helps the film gloss over some of the finer details, but sharp-eyed and attentive viewers are given enough snippets to do the math for an accurate date. The nebulous timeline was likely by design as to not lock in any specific technology that would distract us from the core story or inherently date the film. In fact true sci-fi aficionados would do best to leave their tech checks at the door, as Moon betrays most of what we know about existing communication, robotics, and artificial intelligence early on. Yet what is relayed in terms of futurism is done so as clean and minimalist. While this may seem like a potential bone of contention by the hardcore, how it is presented in the film succeeds in conveying Moon's surprisingly timeless charm. It's what gives Moon a fascinating feeling of a film out of time, by as much as twenty or thirty years. A long lost or forgotten sci-fi classic, if you will. Should this (hopefully) have been director Duncan Jones' intention, congratulations are in order.

Entertaining and thought-provoking, Moon is a rare offering amidst this summer's mindless blockbusters. Among those that are masquerading as science fiction, Moon shows how it's done.

Up

The magic that is a Pixar film is fairly well cemented with Up, had there been any doubt prior. Seen outside of the view from parents of young children or diehard fans of the studio, there can be no doubt left that a Pixar film is miles ahead of not only others placed into the CG genre, but simply most all other films combined. Up, specifically, is overwhelmingly refreshing in its ability to be accessible to everyone. There's no cornering of age groups or targeted demographics, it is at its most basic an undeniably good movie. Up's greatest accomplishment is with the ease it purports to do so, tho when given any thought there was clearly a tremendous amount of work and talent involved.

How this is achieved though a film whose base plot is that of a curmudgeonly old man fulfilling the dream of his dead wife while paired with a hapless boy scout is a wonder to watch unfold. Such a thing would seem to be the antithesis of a foundation for an adventure movie, with concepts that could go horribly wrong into the realm of schmaltz and false emotion. Yet the genuine heart of each character is told through care and craft at just the right pace and attention.

The running theme through Up is "The Spirit of Adventure," taking all forms from the everyday to the grand and sweeping. The story is so adamant in its search and delivery of adventure that no real logic need apply. Events snowball after each other that are so much fun to watch there isn't enough time to wonder why it's happening, just that it is and you can hardly believe your eyes. Before that suspension of disbelief is betrayed, we are brought back to earth (so to speak) to focus on the characters as they are set up for the next big leap. The characters themselves are a collection of oddities outside of the norm of perceived archetypes. And even though the film has a "bad guy," it's not the case in the traditional sense. It's a much more antagonistic involvement with believable and prescient motivations, albeit ultimately destructive. The main characters do set a wonderful tone for the film, following the arc of the acerbic and steadfast Carl managing his time with the unbridled young Russell in their continually peculiar situations. In that respect Up is 100% pure, storypoints seemingly lain out methodically and then toppling like dominoes as the audience tries to keep up. There are instances where you can almost hear Pixar subliminally bragging "Hey, every other movie, this is how you tell a good story. Please do not attempt this at home, we're professionals."

And then there's... the dogs. One can only imagine the story discussion that took place as Up was taking shape, starting simply enough and then cascading into what would become some of the biggest payoffs in the film.

"We should add a dog."
"We should add dogs."
"Like three or four dogs?"
"Like, a hundred and fifty dogs."
"Yeah."



Artistically, if any more adoration can be stood, Up is flawless. There is an acute level of detail on everything that not just raises the bar for competitors, it pretty much puts the bar in sole ownership of Pixar. Stylized characters mesh incredibly into a world that's not quite real but the viewer instantly believes it is so. A wood floor is warped just a touch. The fabric on a chair delicately patterned and worn. The bright color of a merit badge shows every stitch if inspected. The light refracted through a thousand balloons... stunning. As an added bonus, Up is available to be seen in 3D. While there are some cool "in your face" moments, the appeal of 3D in this instance goes more towards a viewing experience of watching a picturesque world come to just shy of life, perhaps like watching Tilt Shift photography on a scale yet unseen.

Up runs a gauntlet of emotion that has no reason to be in any ordinary film. At times sad and melancholy, yet at others laugh-out-loud funny and wide-eyed action. In any other hands, well, who knows. What comes out of the mix is an incredible amount of heart that is so rarely seen it's kind of weird to be found in. When was the last time you saw a movie that when the credits began to roll, the entire audience is just... happy? Odds are it was probably by Pixar.

Terminator Salvation

There was a time where the desire to see an unrestrained continuation of a favorite movie franchise remained unrequited and woefully improbable. These days it seems to be the movie industry's stock and trade. Terminator Salvation falls into a cross-section of Hollywood's recent love affair with reboots and sequels, attempting to not only continue a favored canon but re-invigorate the "property" to a degree which meets the needs of a modern moviegoing audience. Such foundations are often the road to folly, and as a result Salvation has a difficult time straddling the dual responsibilities of which it is being asked.

The introduction of Salvation is protracted and not particularly interesting. There is both an ignorance for establishing what came before and a selfish expectation of the audience to be aware of the very history the film is supposed to represent. Therefore is is difficult to restrain oneself in making comparisons to the previous three films-- when given the time to recall how each of it's predecessors excels in their own areas, it is all to easy to see where the bulk of Salvation falls short.

In story, Salvation is asking the viewer to take a very big leap in regards to what has come before. In prior films the looming threat of a self-aware computer intelligence's triggering of Judgement Day is an act to be prevented in the face of overwhelming obstacles amidst an undercurrent of time travel, presumption of free will, and paradox. Here Judgement Day has come and gone, and the story is rooted in a world that is simultaneously that of the past-- the original backstory of a 25 year-old film-- and a future that has yet to take place. There is only one direction: forward. That forward in turn only has one possible conclusion to bring its world full circle. So it is in this space that Salvation tries to grab attention in hopes that the journey itself is an event worth watching.

As the cornerstone of previous films, the character of John Connor is placed under a tremendous amount of weight, destined to be the savior of the human race. Salvation portrays him for the first time as a full-fledged adult, deep within the role he seemingly could never have avoided. Because of this his motivations and actions are set in stone, there is little to no room to grow and evolve as a person. The film tries to do so, but never at a level that can be seen as significant. That's why it's such a shame to see Christian Bale shoehorned into the role. He is such a strong actor and has proven time and again the myriad of archetypes he can bring life to, yet the story and script leaves this incarnation of John Connor little more than a locomotive on a track. Its all Bale can do to conduct the trip as best he can. For much of the film John Connor's leadership of the human resistance is surrounded by drawn-out exposition and extraneous sub-plots, framed by impressive but ultimately pointless action set pieces. It's disappointing that snippets of what make Terminator so fascinating as science fiction are glossed over in favor of enforcing what a bleak and destructive future is in store for humans.



The key to the film's overall interest lies in the parallel story of Marcus Wright, a former criminal reborn as a hybrid machine, and unaware of the fact. Had it focused on his journey, the story could have achieved so much more. Given his origin and how Wright discovers it, feelings border on disgust with how the marketing of Salvation chose to include it as a key plot point in advance materials and trailers, rather than allow it to be the incredible reveal it could have been. Thankfully Wright, played cooly and with thuggish charm by Sam Worthington, fulfills the role of alpha ass-kicker quite convincingly. His eventual pairing with apocalypse fledgling Kyle Reese (who is pivotal in setting up events from prior films-- but lets not get into that here) harkens back to the successful camaraderie of the earlier films seen with Reese's future self and the matriarchal Sarah Conner, and also young John Conner and the reprogrammed Terminator we all know and love. (Indeed, actor Anton Yelchin is able to play young Reese with an uncanny invocation of Michael Beihn.) Sadly with multiple plot points veering towards conversion, this partnership is short lived. There is a feeling of being shortchanged of Wright's personal quest, just when it becomes most compelling. Wright's eventual meeting with John Connor would seem to be that natural focal point, and in fact had the film waited until that moment to introduce John Connor-- alongside Wright's recognition of his true self-- so many aspects of the story would have been far more rewarding.

Where there is a sense that the first two-thirds of the movie have an idea of what they should be, they never really are able to solidify. Amazingly, Salvation wholeheartedly redeems itself in the third act. The final rundown knows exactly what it needs to be and delivers on multiple levels. As both a movie-goer and a Terminator fan it is... extremely gratifying. It is in the third act where Salvation becomes its most "Terminator" in style, substance, and stake, parlaying its overwrought and disjointed setup into a tight-paced and maniacal conclusion with perhaps one of the best payoffs any fan could have asked for. Imagining it is one thing, seeing it actually play out on screen is another. Surely in this space the formula for success from Salvation's predecessors was a looming influence and rightly so, else we all could have been left with a beleaguered farewell to a series that had run itself into the ground.

Salvation's conclusion and epilogue closes the door on what it introduced, though is able to add a small, final element that adds some light previously unseen. It's difficult to envision where the mythology can go from here, and if it is even necessary. What is left unexplored in the world of Terminator seems hardly enough to craft sustainable narrative, at least that which remains outside of a hardcore philosophical exploration of both its science and fiction. While a true genre fan could only dream of seeing such a thing, it is something Hollywood is not likely to provide. What the future holds for Terminator films is not unlike how they themselves portray it: a fine line between unknown and unavoidable.

3:10 to Yuma

The Western, a much beloved film genre, may have seen a decline in proliferation as the decades passed, but certainly not in quality. There is a strange phenomena that affects certain things that we love that were once plenty but now rare. If one is going to tackle some thing that is so loved by others (and presumably oneself), damned if you're not going to do it right. Thankfully with the western this often holds true to a splendid degree.

Beautifully shot against the desert landscapes os Arizona, 3:10 to Yuma frames a gritty story of one man's search for respect against the rocks, plains, and hills it is all too easy to forget still exist. The story is laid out simply as notorious outlaw Ben Waid (Russell Crowe) is captured and subsequently chaperoned to a prison-bound train by a posse barely up to the task. That posse includes hard-luck case Dan Evans (Christian Bale), who attempts the task not only out of a sense of justice and demand for the monetary reward that comes with it, but in an effort to prove worth to his family who he's let down an unfortunate number of times. While his family's circumstances are not entirely of Dan's own making, the desire to prove himself to his wife and more notably his sons sets him on the path to which he refuses to falter.

The film re-enforces the harsh and difficult life the "old west" was to those who had to live through it, but does so in the exposition of everyday happenings. The arrival of Ben Waid's gang of robbers and thieves into town brings fear and violence, and it's no wonder so many would rather lock themselves in than deal with any antagonism. Arrogance leads to Waid's capture and transport, but only after a fair bout of crime and terrorism have left those who would see him put away with little other choice. The journey to the train station under tight deadline-- all the while trailed by Waids' vicious gang-- allows Waid to unwrap the motives and weaknesses of his captors, where he hits wall after wall with the stubborn Dan Evans.



3:10 to Yuma has a lot of great things we love to see in westerns. Sprawling vistas, gunfights, frantic horse rides, strong supporting cast, and cool cameos. But it also offers lead acting at its best. Crowe falls into the role of the charismatic villain with ease, yet avoids the cliches so often associated with such characters. There is no over the top bravado or excessive cruelty just to tell the audience "I'm the bad guy." In fact when Waid does resort to violence it is seen as his last choice and is ten times more chilling because of it. Crowe plays Waid as an intelligent, if devious, criminal; someone who may or may not have set out for a life of an outlaw, but found one just the same and will not relinquish that which he's already gained. His foil throughout the adventure brought to life by Bale, who presents an amazingly grounded character at the threshold of events that will define his life. Bale is truly the rock of the movie, each scene as Dan Evans peeling back the onion skin of a hard luck case that seems to never catch a break. By the climax of the movie, where everyone else has quit by Evans vows to get Waid to that train, Waid himself can't ignore the lengths one man has gone through for deserved respect. It is impossible not t root for Evans and want him to succeed. Bale turns in great performances as standard, but here may be one of his best.

Modern westerns may come few and far between, 3:10 to Yuma delivers so much of what we love it more than makes up for the wait.

Noise

Do not we all have limits? Even those of us who strive to remain calm in the face of adversity may eventually succumb to a breaking point, when the object of one's strife is endlessly attacked like waves against a rocky shore.

Noise exposes a near-inescapable annoyance of modern life, the relentless audible assault populated society forces upon us. The focus is the ubiquitous car alarm, that which brings the film's protagonist David Owen to his edge. A thinking man with designs on a workable solution, he sabotages himself by succumbing to his anger and frustration. David's actions in attempt to silence his neighborhood escalate over time, bringing him to extremes and losing grip on his life and family. His trials, personal and literal, steadily present the facts and support for the notion that car alarms are ineffectual to the point of uselessness, and do nothing to justify their intended purpose. It is something we have all trained ourselves to ignore, but when faced with the simple logic displayed in both exposition and the consequences of David's actions, it is astounding we as a society have put up with it as long as we have.

David is wonderfully portrayed by Tim Robbins. The character is intelligent and determined, short-tempered and self-destructive. Robbins elevates these qualities to a level that practically absolves the criminality of David's blatant vigilante acts. David is not played as crazed lunatic with fanatic designs, but as a man who shows us the paths that are taken when we choose to enforce our ideals at great personal cost.

Eventually David becomes a bit of a city folk hero on a crusade of vandalism and anti car-alarm decals. He finds somewhat of a catharsis in his cause, meets new friends and lovers, and even gets attention from city officials. Car alarms-- and noise itself-- become the enemy to a character we desperately want to succeed. What is most difficult to come to grips with is that success can never really be achieved. We think we live in a world where someone like David can actually bring about change. We desperately want this to be, and are even given a glimpse of how it is possible. While based on screenwriter Henry Bean's real life experiences, there is a realization that this is a fictional tale and it really is up to citizens to put aside our apathy and act. The film's resolution may initially come across as anti-climactic, but on reflection tells us everything we need to know. Armed with David Owen's example, we can ponder our resolve not only against incessant car alarms, but individual peeves as well.

The Babysitters

Just a stylish little indie film where a savvy high school girl puts on her entrepreneur hat and starts a lucrative babysitting business by offering the services of herself and fellow classmates.

Oh, I should mention something:

Babysitting = Prostitution. 

 Sure it all starts out innocently enough, when John Leguizamo's skeevy dad character Michael makes a play for his sitter... and succeeds. He tips big-- really big-- out of guilt and soon the lightbulb goes off. The sitter, Shirley, played oh-so-cooly by Katherine Waterston, sees a business opportunity wrapped in her burgeoning sexuality just as Michael looks to recommend her services to the neighborhood. Soon enough she's enlisting the aid of one of her friends. Things kind of snowball from there with a few things you expect and a few that you don't.

It's incredibly hard to ignore the more seductive scenes featuring aforementioned Waterston. It's all a little bit pervy in regards to the storyline, she's in high school, Leguizamo's character is a married father who's bored with his life, Lolita references are plentiful, etc. While Waterston plays a high school girl in the movie, we know she's not one in real life... else they don't get to do that kind of stuff on film, yeah? Oh, wait. There's a breadth of moral ambiguity in enjoying this film that is inversely proportionate to how much you have to justify it. Leguizamo also produced the film in addition to getting top billing, isn't it interesting how that worked out. Scrupulous allusions can be imagined, were one in a position to continually produce or finance below-the-radar films as Leguizamo does, would it only be a matter of time until writing oneself into a tantalizing, risque love scene in the name of arthouse cinema.

Oogling aside, Waterston skillfully holds up the movie, which is dependent on her central character. Leguizamo, too, is no slouch, and each are in the midst of a respectable supporting cast. Still, Waterston is the standout. From her strict madame-in-training management to the film's crushing (almost predictable) end, she's got the chops. She seems poised to be an indie darling with many films ahead.

Director David Ross plays the story arrow straight, even tho there's no shortage catty dialogue and black humor. Tho around the 2/3 mark things do get awful dramatic, as the rules of screenwriting dictate the shit has gotta start hitting the fan. In fact a couple scenarios play out that are downright unsettling. In lesser hands it could have gone the way of any number of forgettable taboo-inspired dramedies, but I gotta say The Babysitters is a quality film despite its sensationalist premise. That premise remains the hook, but the funny thing is if you've ever seen a segment of 20/20 or Dateline NBC, you know this kind of thing is happening somewhere in suburbia, right now. As is often the case with our most lurid subjects, both art and life are imitating each other.

Pineapple Express

In the midst of all the blockbuster insanity, Pineapple Express is a nutty comic desert on the tail end of an incredible summer of movies.

There's not much to say, tho if you enjoy the Apatow brand of humor filtered through Seth Rogan's, um, "Seth Roganness," you'll likely enjoy this flick. There's also action on par with your star-fueled buddy cop movie. So much so that I can't tell if Pineapple Express is a comedy wrapped in an action movie or an action movie wrapped in a comedy. That may not make a lot of sense, but the movie really doesn't either. That's why it's fun, you're just along for the ride. And by the end you'll probably want a joint or a bong hit, that is if you weren't already lit on the way in.

I really have to commend the film's mindbogglingly strong pro-marijuana agenda, it's mildly surprising such a film could be made and offered in such wide release. Add on a strong box office showing and its a wonder how any anti-pot crusaders could still be taken seriously. Obviously Pineapple Express is a caricature, but outside of itself it goes a bit towards highlighting what a ridiculous waste of resources are focused on busting up such a harmless pastime. I doubt it has any political leanings as such, at the end of the day Pineapple Express is a harmless (and very funny) pastime of its own.*

*See also: Weeds, which continues to be one of the best shows on television.

Wanted

Ug. Wanted is one of those movies that makes you want your money back in return for the time you had to spend sitting through it.

Thing is, I put off seeing it, then I kept hearing how cool it was so I thought I'd check it out. I heard it compared to Fight Club and The Matrix. Hell, no. It is not remotely close to the clever, de-saturated nihilism of Fight Club and leagues behind what made The Matrix the stylized, FX revolution of its time. As a film it can't even be casually grouped into the visually "cool" as far as I'm concerned, I don't think there was one memorable sequence that stands out as unique or inspired. By the end of the movie things devolve into the absurd and any hope of buying into its fantasy universe is long gone. Perhaps viewers who hail Wanted as something enjoyable just haven't seen enough good movies.

Originally all I knew of Wanted was its comic book origins, but as far as I can tell the only thing the movie has in connection to the comics are a few of the names of the main characters. I had thought even the base premise of the comic would bee good fodder for a summer movie, but sorry, no. It's like the produces actually went out of their way to take out the most interesting concepts of the comic and throw together their idea of a "high octane action film," thinking one or two visual gimmicks could see them through. And I hate to break it to you, but mid-air bullet-on-bullet action played it self out in the early 90's via Hong Kong gangster cinema. I'm trying to recall the first time I saw opposing trajectory bullets collide... Was it Gun and Rose? Well it was cool then, and it could no doubt be cool again but Wanted was not able to join the ranks of cinematic gun fu.

Brought into the ring of all that's been offered this summer, Wanted does not play.

Hellboy 2: The Golden Army

I DID catch Hellboy 2 when it opened and enjoyed it alot. It went in some different directions than the comic mega movies that surrounded it, but that's what made it refreshing. The Hellboy movies in my opinion are only loosely based on the comics, pulling the core concepts and characters into the theatrical realm. But how that's done is something we rarely get to see.

Guillermo Del Toro is a cinematic visionary-- but I don't say that in the way of some overused adulation. I mean it literally, where here is a man who has a specific vision for what he wants to put on film and executes it beautifully. By doing so he begins to create his own version of the Hellboy mythos, not that what Mignola has done in book form could ever really be replicated in another medium. There are so many great things to watch on screen, and it comes in a steady stream of the bizarre and fantastic. And what's so great about it all is that it filled me with the thoughts of all the great fantasy movies they don't seem to make anymore. Labyrinth, Legend, Dark Crystal, Hawk the Slayer, Willow, Neverending Story, Baron Munchausen, Time Bandits (all from the 80's coincidentally, I bet there's some sort of scocio-economic connection there). Hellboy 2 is packed solid, with virtually no wasted space. The shots are wide and long when they should be, then close and personal to bring it home. Everything from the costumes to the creatures to the sets is pure eye candy.

Prior to this Del Toro brought us Pan's Labyrinth, which is also an amazing looking film, but it's matched there by dread and bleakness. Hellboy 2 is fun and lively wrapped around moments of thought and pathos, and at times sheer wackiness. Yea... I probably could have done without the Barry Manilow, but in the end that is just part of the oddity of it all. The story behind resurrecting the Golden Army is solid and awesome to watch come to fruition. The action sequences are balls-out, something I wasn't expecting at all. The last fight scene between Prince Nuada and Hellboy is amazing to watch, I hadn't felt that sense of unexpected, wide-eyed awe of a duel probably since Darth Maul's showdown in Phantom Menace.

The cast brings the characters alive, clearly much more at ease in their roles since the first film. As Hellboy, Pearlman keeps his wit and aplomb balanced keenly with an outsider's self consciousness and need to be accepted. I was also happy to see much more of Abe Sapien, well 'cause he's just awesome. Doug Jones even wins his own voice back this time around. Selma Blair is always someone I like to see show up, tho her character Liz definitely seemed to be short changed, waffling between shrill crow and all-around second banana. The biggest treat for me was Luke Goss' Prince Nuada, who's character I just wanted more and more of. Tho the title says otherwise, I say he was the real star of the movie.

Hellboy 2 is way better than the first in all these respects, both in story and how we see it told. I hope its success is an opening for more great fantasy movies to come.

The Dark Knight

Here are some thoughts that have been with me since seeing The Dark Knight. They are not particularly organized because I'm still kind of speechless.

See it in IMAX if your city has one. Driving a reasonable distance would be well worth it.

The Dark Knight makes Batman Begins seem like a light, simply constructed prologue.

Commercials and trailers thankfully have no bearing on experiencing this film. There was at least a full third of the movie that has had nothing promoted or hinted at in any way.

There have been some pretty cool comics movies lately but they are looking a bit quaint in hindsight. The level of complexity and climactic tension that the story builds to rivals any film since I can't recall when, superheroes or no.

You are probably aware the movie features Harvey Dent. I won't be spoilerish, but Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Speculation: The Joker will return. He will be recast and likely recast well. But it will be no Heath Ledger. That guy is getting an Oscar for what sadly was the performance of his life. That sounds kind of gushy, tho judge for yourself.

If a movie could have sex with you, The Dark Knight would ruin you for other movies. Okay maybe that's a bit much. I recommend seeing this movie.

Wall-E makes me happy

Pixar, Pixar, Pixar.

Make no mistake about it, it is all Pixar and whatever magical aqua vitae they brew throughout their production process. And I know it's not all perfection in moviemaking with no cracks or flaws, but it is a hell of a diamond they crank out, leagues beyond the competition. This was made overwhelmingly apparent by the dreck I was forced to sit through for the preview trailers, each a sad offering in the 3D animated genre that Pixar itself created.


For Wall-E, it's just another reason to gush and laud over an unequalled level of art and creativity that never seems to stop coming from the parties involved. Some people like to talk about the solidarity of the story, others the characters, and others the technical proficiency of the animation and environments. Me, I tend to lean towards the art itself, and the design therein. Wall-E is a gorgeous film, finding an abstract beauty in the opening of Earth's sad legacy and evolving into a razor sharp Asimovian futurist paradise. The forced warmth of Wall-E's existence on a bleak Earth is told not only by character but by color, flawless in execution and full of endless lessons in mood and emotion told through palettes, lighting, and composition. Transitioning to the stark setting of deep space among the falsely active dormancy of the human society we are shown the cold but cool precision of an automated lifestyle; a design sense as detailed and coordinated as the robots that run it. God damn is it pretty.


The story is one that moves along at a steady pace and grows on you stronger and stronger, eventually moving into the trademark, frantic energy of a Pixar finale. The story is completely character driven, focused solely on the titular Wall-E and his appeal. This despite that fact that there is no dialogue for what might be the first hour of the film, such is the strength of Wall-E's personality, which I would think in the hands of lesser men would have come across as schmaltzy and cliché. Yet, man if that Wall-E isn't a cute little bugger.

Lastly I would hope-- hope with all my heart-- that the real message of the film sinks its teeth into the younger generations that watch it, keeping a death grip on their precious little psyches long enough to change The Way We Do Things. If that can be achieved, I will gladly accept the world of Wall-E as fanciful fiction instead of distinct probability.

----

On a supplementary note to Wall-E, the opening short, Presto, may be one of the flat-out best cartoon shorts I've seen in my adult life. While drinking in the pure fun and comedy that is Presto, it really is a shame to think of what passes as children's entertainment these days. What with executive and marketing driven network fare that has sucked all the awe and joy out of the average, contemporary cartoon. Presto calls back to the days of Warner Bros. gold, where we must remember that cartoons were made for the primarily adult movie going audience, it's just that they were so good it was impossible for children not to enjoy them, too. Sadly it was all downhill from there (as John K. likes to say, "the hippies ruined everything"). Thankfully with Presto we see that the true cartoon is alive and well, and in very good hands. I can only look forward to more.

Incredible Hulk: Smashy, Smashy

What is weird about The Incredible Hulk is that it's not a relaunch, reboot, or a "requel" as it's been called, in suspect to "make up for" Ang Lee's 2003 version (which has its own batch of weirdness). What we got here is just another in a long line of Hollywood trends: turning and old TV show into a movie. This latest version of the Hulk doesn't even try to hide its roots in the Bixby series of days past, it's a flat out continuation. In some ways it's disappointing, namely the origin. I always thought the Hulk had a great origin for film, but that's yet to be adapted at all. As has been noted in other reviews such as The Beat's, the Hulk's origin is told in an opening montage that likens to a flashback, for a movie that never existed.

But going in with low expectations, as I did, has its advantages. The movie isn't that bad-- I was fairly entertained. I don't think it has the impact of Iron Man, but there is plenty for any action film aficionado or comics reader to like. Almost too much, I can't imagine someone who knows nothing of the Hulk following more than the broadness of the story. What I felt was that the fanboys finally got everything they could want from a comic book movie, but at the expense of having it be anything more than a by-the-numbers adaptation.

There is tons of "Hulk Smash." It's close to Transformers in the wanton destruction of property department. And you know, it's fun to watch the Hulk go all aggro and rip cars in half and throw tanks around. A nitpick of mine is that this movie had the Hulk use shrapnel as weapons more often than not, which to me is a transparent translation of things to make into toys, but whatever. Hulk doesn't need accessories, Hulk has fists!



So while it's neat to watch the ridiculous CG money pit Hulk against Abomination, what I missed was any attempt to actually define what the Hulk is and its relation to Banner. A huge part of the comics, when it was at its best, was the turmoil of Banner dealing with the Hulk actually being a part of himself, a gamma-born psyche that fights to be set free without limits. The movie treats the Hulk more as an unwanted super power that Banner is afraid to unleash not because of what it represents, but for the superficial damage it does. Maybe I am asking too much from the new wave of comic book films.



As for the Hulk itself, he's just a big, nice, expensive CG animation that bounces around and hits things. He doesn't have the pathos of Gollum nor the subtlety of Yoda. Sure they try to hit you over the head with their attempt at that in a couple of scenes, but it's lacking. Strangely Abomination has more personality, due likely to his extra non-human deformities. Though I must say I am extra critical in this department, and for all intents and purposes 'ol Jadejaws is a commanding presence when roaring in full theater surround sound.

Clearly after Iron Man and now The Hulk, movies are the new Marvel. Which makes me wonder why the Fantastic Four movies are so awful. Talk about needing a reboot!

BONUS! Hop over to io9 for a look at some concept art of Hulk and Abomination. "Frankenstein Hulk" would have been awesome!

The Hulks that Almost Were

Speed Racer has blown my fragile, little mind

Really, nothing I write here could explain what it is like to see this movie. I believe most will either hate it or love it, I don't see alot of grey area. Personally, I loved it. I am a big Speed Racer fan and this movie has Speed Racer all over it, and in all the best ways. I told one of my friends it was like a love letter. And not like a touchy-feely Superman Returns Hallmark Channel jerk-off letter, but more of a baby you're the hottest thing on the planet so ditch your boyfriend and lets get it on kind of letter.

I have seen some crazy ass shit, but man, this movie is some crazy ass shit. Yup, story good (really good). Cast, great (really great). Music, sweet (really, really sweet). But the visuals are out of freakin' control and it truly has to be seen to be believed. It doesn't matter if this movie was live action or animated, because within the first five minutes it's clear that they are one in the same and it doesn't stop. Cause, see, first they throw you some crazy ass shit. Then you're thinking, man, that was some crazy ass shit but then some even CRAZIER ass shit starts going on. And you're like whoa, that was some seriously crazy ass shit, etc., etc., for the next two hours. So you are either going to totally dig this or pass out in an epileptic seizure.


The Wachowskis, there's some heated debates about those guys and what they do. I've been in many of them on both sides. But what they did here took huge balls. Giant, monster balls. I don't know that they have "pulled off" anything to a greater renown than a wild-looking popcorn flic, but in Speed Racer I fell hook, line, and sinker.

Speed Racer Movie Site

Iron Man: Ten Kinds of Awesome

Best.
Superhero.
Movie.
Ever.

UPDATE: Okay, now that I'm down off of my Iron Man high, let me break down the awesomeness.

10. Cocktails! I don't know that the general movie going public is aware of what comics readers have grown up with-- Tony Stark eventually evolves into a raging alcoholic. I can't imagine this not coming into play should more movies make to to screen. That being the case, it is a rare scene in this inaugural outing that Stark is shown without some kind of drink in his hand. Nice.

9. In jokes. Not unlike the above, plenty of references to Iron Man lore far and wide.

8. Toys. The movie is full of male fantasy power toys, from private jets with stripper poles to sports cars to the armor itself. Who wouldn't want to suit up in an impenetrable, flying, war machine? Aside from the gaping hole in your chest, I mean.

7. Script. It's very well written. No, it isn't Shakespeare, but in the class of many superhero flics (or even just your average summer blockbusters) it's tight. There's plenty of Star Trekky techno babble, suppressed romantic sub-plot, and tack-sharp one-liners. The funny stuff is funny (it's got more humor than I'd have guessed) and the serious stuff is serious. And while the movie as a whole plays out in Hollywood beats, at least it doesn't insult me.

6. Pepper Potts. Usually Gweneth Paltrow is a reason not to see a movie. But here as Stark's ever-present Girl Friday she's great to watch. Her and Stark's relationship through the course of the film is a genuine development, and Paltrow is a surprising and pleasant feminine presence in a testosterone dominated story.

5. Quirk. There is some just plain out weird shit in this movie. Redonkulous. Not just the odd, fumbling "I've got to learn how to be a superhero" kind of thing. The suspension of disbelief has to be, uh, suspended fairly early. The science fiction isn't exactly as grounded as it is thrown at you with flagrant plausibility. This is where I thought the movie would lose me, as I'd have preferred some hard-core science, but instead it takes more of a roller coaster approach with extrapolation of technology we see every day. And honestly, when Iron Man is bringing the thunder, you don't really care.

4.Favreau. This movie was directed by Jon Favreau. Really? Elf Favreau? Zathura Favreau? He will always be the swinger we know and love, but I tell you he put together one hell of a big-budget Hollywood blockbuster while keeping a pretty true core of what makes Iron Man so cool. The acting in the movie from all players is fun and tight, and I'm guessing Favreau has alot to do with that. Throw in the management of all the crazy effects sequences and I say "Good show, old man!"

3. Stark. Robert Downey Jr. owns this role. It doesn't hurt that's he's surrounded by a great cast, either.

2. Kick-Assery. Dude, Iron Man kicks so much ass in this movie. Actually I take that back. He didn't kick enough ass, there really needed to be more ass kicking. Tony Stark is indeed the billionaire playboy, but in that suit it is all motherfucking business. MOAR!

1. The Armor. It looks sooooooooo cool! Face it, the armor was what was going to sell this movie. And the prospect of future movies with the built-in gimmick of new armor is like money in the bank.

I know the movie wasn't perfect, not that there could be a perfect movie. There's a few elements that border on cheese and Hollywood screenwriting business-as-usual. But I sure enjoyed it, and it's by far the best representation of a comic to date. Prior to this I only held Spider-Man 2 and Batman Begins in such high regard, nowadays (for me) Iron Man is the one to beat. Give me sequels! Screw the Avengers, 'cause I guarantee they're gonna screw that one up, just give me more Iron Man.

Cloverfield

So yeah I bought into the hype machine and saw Cloverfield. It's really not that bad, I mean it's nothing spectacular in the realm of monster movies but it holds up pretty well considering the entire film is from a single point of view.

But you know, really could have used more monster. Lots of glimpses and destruction and stuff blowing up. But even the "good look" at the beast wasn't that good of a look. And after all the hoopla of what it would look like (honestly I can't believe I didn't see it beforehand, and I sure looked for it!), It was just okay. Storywise its very straightforward, by the numbers. Hits all the action movie beats, no switcheroos, no fake-outs, and that was a bit of a letdown considering all of the secrecy involved. The folks I saw it with were generally entertained but we surprisingly came up with the same idea for a way cooler ending. And -no- science whatsoever. No explanation of what, how, why, nothing. Me, I really like the sci in my sci-fi. Can't I get a little sumptin' sumptin'?

I don't know if I'm alone in this, but I felt the movie had a heavy overtone of dread. Not even sure why, maybe because the deaths are both on the mass scale and the up-close and personal. Outside of the plot of random and wanton destruction, I don't know if there was a metaphor involved or if there was I'm not thinking enough to make the connection. The handheld camera viewpoint leads to some intense scenes where the military lets go full bore, as a viewer this is impressive and even jarring. It's so close up and loud, one can only wonder what actual modern warzone life is like, no doubt terrifying outside of the realms of fiction. Coupled with the no-win scenario omnipresent through the course of the film and held to the very end, it's definitely not the feel-good film of the new year. I know that's a strange thing to say about a monster movie, but Cloverfield is not an average movie in many ways. Does that make it better? Not sure... even with the hook of the single camera and personal POV, there are definitely some areas of story that could have been stronger to make a crazy-awesome monster flic instead of just an eyebrow raiser.

In the end I wish the monster really did look like this.

The Sarah Connor Chronicles

I must say I loved the first two episodes of Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles on Fox. It is a bit like fanfic gone wild, set in an alternate history which takes place directly after Terminator 2: Judgement Day but upsets the introduction of Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines.

Now I wasn't expecting much to begin with, so I was pleasingly assuaged when the beats I define as keen to Terminator canon were hit repeatedly. These include:

• Hard-as-nails Sarah Connor
• Random, instant violence
• Heavy ammunition usage
• Terminators hit by cars
• Exceptionally high imbalance of body-to-drywall ratio

While she does know how to kick ass and take names, TV's Sarah Connor played by Lena Heady is quite a bit more accessible than her movie counterpart Linda Hamilton. In T2, Hamilton is freaking amazing as a detached, single-minded lioness who will stop at nothing to protect her son. That transformation from the original movie's terrified damsel on the run is a thrill to behold and one of the anchors of what makes T2 so great. Hamilton's Connor outright personifies someone you do not want to fuck with.

Here in television where the titular character must be sustained for presumably much longer storylines, I understand the choice to take a less intense direction. Luckily Headly appears to play the balance well, and still keeps the thick skin and unflinching trigger finger.

Not surprisingly John Connor plays a big role, as well as his new Termanatrix protector (aptly done, if expected, by Summer Glau). Model number as yet unidentified... though there seem to be plenty of T-800's around.

The alternate timeline takes a little getting used to, I really enjoyed T3 and its striking resolution. Judgement Day cannot be stopped, it is inevitable in the Terminator storyline. Chronicles may not stop it but has certainly postponed it, and it will be interesting to see how much they play around with chronology or if the third film is even referenced at all. Not to mention the fourth film in the works! In its first episode the show has brought time travel into play, which I love, but we've yet to see if it will be overdone as paradox piles onto paradox. I hope the series either stays strong or stays brief. Heroes was a big let down by the end of the first season, and I can barely bring myself to mention the dashed hopes of Bionic Woman. I hope Chronicles keeps itself on a tight leash.

UPDATE: My new guilty pleasure, i09, picks up on the "kinder, gentler Sarah Connor," supposing and fearing it may lead to a downhill trend. And I gotta say that original pilot ending is kick ass compared to what aired. Keep your fingers crossed the character won't stray too far into that territory.