Director Baltasar Kormakur's second major studio release featuring Mark Wahlberg, 2 Guns, opened last Friday and proceeded to secure the number one spot at the box office, albeit for a relatively slow weekend. Based on the Boom! Studios graphic novels by Steven Grant (which I have not read, yet), the film is the latest in a long list of comics adaptations in recent memory, yet seems to tread territory more familiar to the action films of the 80's than the tights and capes films of the last decade.
When I bought my ticket, I was looking for lite action fare, but with comics personality and panache. The action movie genre as a whole, in my humble opinion, has been taking itself entirely too seriously lately, and the previews seemed to indicate a lighter treatment of the buddy cop motif, which looked to be something I'd enjoy.
The film concerns the exploits of two secretive "good guys", Bobby Trench (Denzel Washington) and Mike Stigman (Mark Wahlberg), each working undercover for a different entity, and each unaware of the other's true disposition. What starts as a bank robbery caper quickly turns into a sort of ground war between various factions, including a number of corrupt government agencies (5, maybe 6?), drug cartels, and those working multiple angles. Both characters begin the movie wholly convinced of the way things ought to work, and only by throwing out the rule book, so to speak, can they succeed.
Let's get straight to it:
The Bad: Personality the film has, in spades, although I hesitate to say what type: It's all over the map. The action is played too straight and certain dramatic moments are too intense to belong in a farce/parody, but the plot is simply too outlandish to belong in either straight-up action drama or even buddy cop territory. The worst part is the way the film switches personality and tone from scene to scene: There are about 6 intense gun battles, for example, that are played completely straight by the camera, the editing, and the direction, but these are predicated by grab-bag action movie plot devices that go to outlandish extremes and dialogue that's anything but serious. Seriously, every government agency mentioned in the movie, from the Border Patrol to the US Navy, the ATF, the DEA, the CIA, etc., is involved in drug smuggling, has its own Snidely Whiplash corrupt official, shadow organization and/or black ops hit-squad that initiates broad-daylight gun battles with impunity. Sometimes, the movie seems to be heading for the dramatic intensity of something like Drive or Dog Day Afternoon, other times it seems to want a more comedic or stylized approach akin to a Troublemaker Studios effort, and yet other times, it feels like a shallow buddy cop flick similar in tone to (insert Eddie Murphy buddy cop movie here). The trouble is, the style elements are so diluted by the schism that it's hard for the film to succeed in any one of its many aspects. In this regard, Washington's Trench character is played a little too straight, and has some elements of plot attached that are a bit too dramatic to fit: There are those moments where you know he's phoning in his typical Washington "seasoned rogue" gig you're likely used to from previous efforts. He does have his moments, but he's out-shined by his counterpart in just about every scene (more on that below), and he is his most successful playing off Whalberg's superior lead.
The Good: There are indeed some well-filmed action scenes in the movie, and there is a good amount of fun to be had if you check your mind at the door. Whalberg seems to know exactly what to do with his character, who goes from doe-eyed believer in the system to "I don't give a shit" rogue during the course of the film. The character arcs are basically the same between the two main draws, in that fundamentally each hero must become their cover, and Whalberg's Stigman is the most apt, delivering one-liners and little personality ticks that get you believing early on that he is polarized along those lines, but could make the leap between wheelhouses easily. He gets the most entertaining of the two main sets of dialogue, and delivers every one-liner and insult to great effect. My only complaint was that he didn't, or maybe wasn't allowed to, go farther with it. If it were my film, I'd have written/directed his character as a straight SNL parody of himself, complete with "Do you like Entourage?" fourth-wall-breaking debasement, but that's just me.
The Conclusion: This film would make a solid rental, good for a weekday night or a slow Saturday. I don't know that the cinematography or action merits the big-screen treatment, and there's little else here to justify a "go buy a ticket" recommendation. Perhaps for this last weekend and the next couple, it could scratch that itch for a movie buff that just has to have a movie to go to.
The Rating: It's a 6 on a 10 scale for theater-viewing, but perhaps an 8 or a 9 as a rental.
Showing posts with label movie review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label movie review. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Monday, June 17, 2013
Jim's Movie Reviews: Man Of Steel
Even while critics gave it a barely passing grade, director Zack Snyder's Man Of Steel went the distance this past weekend to set box-office records for a June opener. So, who's right, the ticket-buying audience or the film buffs? Is Man Of Steel similar in tone or quality to the 1978 Superman, or 2006's Superman Returns? Read on for my take, and find out whether you fall into the category of person likely to enjoy this film. This review will avoid spoilers where practical, and assumes some knowledge of the Superman mythos to this point. It will also use the 1978 Superman as a vehicle for comparison at several opportunities.
Director Zack Snyder is probably best known for the visually lavish, if not historically accurate, 300, as well as the controversial comic-to-film effort Watchmen. So he has a certain pedigree when it comes to making films based on comics characters. It should be noted that in both cases, Snyder had a visual palette from which to work...in the case of Watchmen, he filmed a cut of the movie that was almost a shot-for-shot remake of the books (heavily edited for the cinematic release, however). This time around, Snyder had David S. Goyer's script to work from, a script whose story architecture was reportedly penned by none other than Christopher Nolan, father of the recent Batman trilogy.
Man Of Steel takes the same path as many recent re-boots of popular franchises, and unlike 2004's Superman Returns is a departure from the mythos first envisioned by Richard Donner in 1978. It's yet another origin story for the character that re-tells the events surrounding his birth, but adds back-story and plot elements to the last days of Krypton that have far-reaching effects throughout the film. The first act concerns the destruction of Krypton and the infant Kal El's flight to Earth. The second mostly concerns the young Clark Kent (Henry Cavill) wrestling with his power and abilities, and the third concerns his revelation to the world, and his conflict with General Zod (Michael Shannon) and the denizens of Krypton that hope to re-make Earth in its image.
Visually, the film is what you would expect, given its lineage: Flat, cool color tones, stark and imposing landscapes, and more often than not, strange alien architecture. The film spends a surprising amount of time both on Superman's home world of Krypton, as well as inside various Kryptonian vehicles come to Earth. Gone are the towering spires of lighted crystal from Donner's '78 effort: This Krypton is an imposing brown cut with alien architecture right out of a Geiger painting. The second act, changing settings between the American mid-west and Alaska territories, fares no better with the somber tones set forth in the first, and finally the washed-out greys that dominate the third act's city-scapes and alien spacecraft are occasionally punctuated by Superman's grey...er...red and blue costume.
The chief problems with the screenplay start to crop up in the first act: It seems a compulsion for this movie to wish to one-up past efforts in the superhero genre in the action and visuals. For example, one of the opening scenes concerns Jor El (Russel Crowe) witnessing an assassination by the rogue General Zod then fleeing home to secure his son's launch in the rocket destined for earth. Instead of making his way across a war-torn capital city on foot, or even in a mechanical personal conveyance of some kind, he mounts a dragon, then flies home from work looping and wheeling through an epic aerial battle right out of a Star Wars prequel. These types of excesses dominate the first and third acts of the film, to a degree that would make Michael Bay blush. The needless pageantry is exposed for what it is when Jor arrives home (well, the dragon-landing pad outside his home), dismounts his mortally-wounded steed, and discovers that the General has all but beaten him there, Tortoise and The Hare style. Once the plot pieces are in place to begin the second act, the battle conveniently and abruptly halts, tipping the writers' hand to the utility of the device.
The second act calms a little but nevertheless favors a different type of excess. The narrative jumps back and forth from Clark's childhood to young adulthood, and the story suffers a little here for a lack of rhythm and clear buildup of the character arc. All the material is there for a significant look at the character, including the most poignant dialogue between his foster father Jonathan (Kevin Costner), but there are few, if any, scenes of Clark or the Kent family just being people. In the same way that the pageantry of the first act is spoiled by excess, so is the gravitas of the second act diluted by repetitive story beats and dialogue of a singular theme. Every word out of Jonathan's mouth is a bit of grandfatherly sage advice, to the point where you half expect a ray of sunshine to punctuate his every utterance. I don't think he has one line of dialogue in the whole film that sounds like something Dad would say, no "can you cut the grass" or "pass me the potatoes", just a constant stream of prophetic wisdom. Every scene centered on Clark involves his actively using or not using his powers, and although the choices are explained, you're robbed of a chance to see the moral center of the character and his love for humanity develop in the rich way portrayed in Superman. Jonathan gives Clark reasons to jealously guard his secret, and those reasons compel him to the point where he must, eventually, be forced to step out of the shadows. I don't have a problem with this change in the character's arc, except to say that it robs the Superman character of a certain moral center to suggest that all his life he was counselled to avoid revealing himself even at the cost of human lives. Snyder tries to play up the iconography of the character in a scene in a church, but it's so heavy-handed and club-you-over-the-head subtle that it evokes laughter. The 1978 Superman had a far superior second act when it came to the development of the character, and it was done with half the screen time spent on Clark's upbringing.
For some audience members, the third act is the part they paid to see, and for others, it's where the thing disintegrates completely. It is for this that I am most hesitant to recommend either one way or another on this film: The third act of Man Of Steel is an hour-long pitched battle, pure and simple. And what a battle it is: Skyscrapers fall, the earth is torn, the army attacks, city blocks are picked up and slammed down, alien space ships fire bolts of energy, trains are de-railed, satellites are hurled out of orbit, etc. For an hour. The third act doesn't build, it simply arrives, and it's not over until its over, so to speak. Any one of Snyder's action scenes, when taken on its own, can be regarded as wonderful for its powerful imagery and beautifully moving pieces. But for all their thunder and calamity, you never get the sense that either combatant is against the ropes for more than a second or so between landing blows. There's no lull, and therefore no rhythm to speak of, just spectacular yet inconsequential violence. Superman on occasion stops to aid a human soldier, but he evinces almost no concern whatever for the workaday human populace. In real-world terms, the off-screen death toll from his fight with Zod would have been staggering, yet no concern is evident until the very end, when Superman is forced(?) to make a decision that runs counter to what many fans expect of the character.
So, is it a good movie? Partially. See, Snyder gets the imagery and iconography right, and there is a compelling arc and poignant story notes scattered throughout the second act....I just don't think Snyder gets the music of it. Some story notes are shouted too loudly, others drowned by the thunderous drums of action set-pieces destroyed, and some are too brief or too out of sync to be of consequence. Yes, it's a clearly recognizable three-act play, but it could have benefited from some choice editing of the third act, the inclusion of some humanizing script for the second act, and a minor re-write of the first to tone the narrative down a little. Yes, some of the character choices in the script are interesting when evaluated out of context, but I don't know if the writers realize what was lost when they made Jonathan a jealous guardian rather than a guiding hand. It's strange how, with as many glimpses of greatness as this film gives us, and all the talk about changing the world, it simply doesn't end up feeling like anything special...and the reasons for this are so plainly evident and easily fixable.
Lemme see...how to rate this...I know, I'll use a sliding scale! Find the byte below that best describes you, and you'll find your rating for Man Of Steel right after.
The Blockbuster: You know who Superman is, but you don't read comics and you're not a fan of the '78 film (that wishy-washy rom-com with Margot Kidder that is, like, ancient) due to its slow pacing and obvious 70's special effects. You think that modern CGI is a chance to show some really cool battle scenes. You loved the Transformers movies, and think Iron Man 3 was the obvious best in the series. Your rating: 9 out of 10.
The Andy Warhol: You know the Superman character, and what he stands for, but you're more into the visuals than anything else. You want to see Superman holding up a building, standing in front of a stained glass window, flying through space, on fire, in an H.R. Geiger painting, etc. You thought Sucker Punch was one of that year's best films. Your rating: 8 out of 10
The Fanboy: You're dying to see this film. You've waited 35 years for Superman to be done right again, and the previews are looking good. You're very familiar with the Donner films, and happen to enjoy several comics and animated takes on the character throughout the years. You think Waid's Birthright was really cool. Your rating: 6 out of 10
The Keeper Of The Flame: You are familiar with Superman's comic history, and can debate for hours on why silver age Superman is superior to any other published work in the last 30 years. You think the Donner films were "interesting", but can't stomach the liberties they took with the character and the obvious non-canon approach to the character's back story. Your Rating: 3 out of 10
Director Zack Snyder is probably best known for the visually lavish, if not historically accurate, 300, as well as the controversial comic-to-film effort Watchmen. So he has a certain pedigree when it comes to making films based on comics characters. It should be noted that in both cases, Snyder had a visual palette from which to work...in the case of Watchmen, he filmed a cut of the movie that was almost a shot-for-shot remake of the books (heavily edited for the cinematic release, however). This time around, Snyder had David S. Goyer's script to work from, a script whose story architecture was reportedly penned by none other than Christopher Nolan, father of the recent Batman trilogy.
Man Of Steel takes the same path as many recent re-boots of popular franchises, and unlike 2004's Superman Returns is a departure from the mythos first envisioned by Richard Donner in 1978. It's yet another origin story for the character that re-tells the events surrounding his birth, but adds back-story and plot elements to the last days of Krypton that have far-reaching effects throughout the film. The first act concerns the destruction of Krypton and the infant Kal El's flight to Earth. The second mostly concerns the young Clark Kent (Henry Cavill) wrestling with his power and abilities, and the third concerns his revelation to the world, and his conflict with General Zod (Michael Shannon) and the denizens of Krypton that hope to re-make Earth in its image.
Visually, the film is what you would expect, given its lineage: Flat, cool color tones, stark and imposing landscapes, and more often than not, strange alien architecture. The film spends a surprising amount of time both on Superman's home world of Krypton, as well as inside various Kryptonian vehicles come to Earth. Gone are the towering spires of lighted crystal from Donner's '78 effort: This Krypton is an imposing brown cut with alien architecture right out of a Geiger painting. The second act, changing settings between the American mid-west and Alaska territories, fares no better with the somber tones set forth in the first, and finally the washed-out greys that dominate the third act's city-scapes and alien spacecraft are occasionally punctuated by Superman's grey...er...red and blue costume.
The chief problems with the screenplay start to crop up in the first act: It seems a compulsion for this movie to wish to one-up past efforts in the superhero genre in the action and visuals. For example, one of the opening scenes concerns Jor El (Russel Crowe) witnessing an assassination by the rogue General Zod then fleeing home to secure his son's launch in the rocket destined for earth. Instead of making his way across a war-torn capital city on foot, or even in a mechanical personal conveyance of some kind, he mounts a dragon, then flies home from work looping and wheeling through an epic aerial battle right out of a Star Wars prequel. These types of excesses dominate the first and third acts of the film, to a degree that would make Michael Bay blush. The needless pageantry is exposed for what it is when Jor arrives home (well, the dragon-landing pad outside his home), dismounts his mortally-wounded steed, and discovers that the General has all but beaten him there, Tortoise and The Hare style. Once the plot pieces are in place to begin the second act, the battle conveniently and abruptly halts, tipping the writers' hand to the utility of the device.
The second act calms a little but nevertheless favors a different type of excess. The narrative jumps back and forth from Clark's childhood to young adulthood, and the story suffers a little here for a lack of rhythm and clear buildup of the character arc. All the material is there for a significant look at the character, including the most poignant dialogue between his foster father Jonathan (Kevin Costner), but there are few, if any, scenes of Clark or the Kent family just being people. In the same way that the pageantry of the first act is spoiled by excess, so is the gravitas of the second act diluted by repetitive story beats and dialogue of a singular theme. Every word out of Jonathan's mouth is a bit of grandfatherly sage advice, to the point where you half expect a ray of sunshine to punctuate his every utterance. I don't think he has one line of dialogue in the whole film that sounds like something Dad would say, no "can you cut the grass" or "pass me the potatoes", just a constant stream of prophetic wisdom. Every scene centered on Clark involves his actively using or not using his powers, and although the choices are explained, you're robbed of a chance to see the moral center of the character and his love for humanity develop in the rich way portrayed in Superman. Jonathan gives Clark reasons to jealously guard his secret, and those reasons compel him to the point where he must, eventually, be forced to step out of the shadows. I don't have a problem with this change in the character's arc, except to say that it robs the Superman character of a certain moral center to suggest that all his life he was counselled to avoid revealing himself even at the cost of human lives. Snyder tries to play up the iconography of the character in a scene in a church, but it's so heavy-handed and club-you-over-the-head subtle that it evokes laughter. The 1978 Superman had a far superior second act when it came to the development of the character, and it was done with half the screen time spent on Clark's upbringing.
For some audience members, the third act is the part they paid to see, and for others, it's where the thing disintegrates completely. It is for this that I am most hesitant to recommend either one way or another on this film: The third act of Man Of Steel is an hour-long pitched battle, pure and simple. And what a battle it is: Skyscrapers fall, the earth is torn, the army attacks, city blocks are picked up and slammed down, alien space ships fire bolts of energy, trains are de-railed, satellites are hurled out of orbit, etc. For an hour. The third act doesn't build, it simply arrives, and it's not over until its over, so to speak. Any one of Snyder's action scenes, when taken on its own, can be regarded as wonderful for its powerful imagery and beautifully moving pieces. But for all their thunder and calamity, you never get the sense that either combatant is against the ropes for more than a second or so between landing blows. There's no lull, and therefore no rhythm to speak of, just spectacular yet inconsequential violence. Superman on occasion stops to aid a human soldier, but he evinces almost no concern whatever for the workaday human populace. In real-world terms, the off-screen death toll from his fight with Zod would have been staggering, yet no concern is evident until the very end, when Superman is forced(?) to make a decision that runs counter to what many fans expect of the character.
So, is it a good movie? Partially. See, Snyder gets the imagery and iconography right, and there is a compelling arc and poignant story notes scattered throughout the second act....I just don't think Snyder gets the music of it. Some story notes are shouted too loudly, others drowned by the thunderous drums of action set-pieces destroyed, and some are too brief or too out of sync to be of consequence. Yes, it's a clearly recognizable three-act play, but it could have benefited from some choice editing of the third act, the inclusion of some humanizing script for the second act, and a minor re-write of the first to tone the narrative down a little. Yes, some of the character choices in the script are interesting when evaluated out of context, but I don't know if the writers realize what was lost when they made Jonathan a jealous guardian rather than a guiding hand. It's strange how, with as many glimpses of greatness as this film gives us, and all the talk about changing the world, it simply doesn't end up feeling like anything special...and the reasons for this are so plainly evident and easily fixable.
Lemme see...how to rate this...I know, I'll use a sliding scale! Find the byte below that best describes you, and you'll find your rating for Man Of Steel right after.
The Blockbuster: You know who Superman is, but you don't read comics and you're not a fan of the '78 film (that wishy-washy rom-com with Margot Kidder that is, like, ancient) due to its slow pacing and obvious 70's special effects. You think that modern CGI is a chance to show some really cool battle scenes. You loved the Transformers movies, and think Iron Man 3 was the obvious best in the series. Your rating: 9 out of 10.
The Andy Warhol: You know the Superman character, and what he stands for, but you're more into the visuals than anything else. You want to see Superman holding up a building, standing in front of a stained glass window, flying through space, on fire, in an H.R. Geiger painting, etc. You thought Sucker Punch was one of that year's best films. Your rating: 8 out of 10
The Fanboy: You're dying to see this film. You've waited 35 years for Superman to be done right again, and the previews are looking good. You're very familiar with the Donner films, and happen to enjoy several comics and animated takes on the character throughout the years. You think Waid's Birthright was really cool. Your rating: 6 out of 10
The Keeper Of The Flame: You are familiar with Superman's comic history, and can debate for hours on why silver age Superman is superior to any other published work in the last 30 years. You think the Donner films were "interesting", but can't stomach the liberties they took with the character and the obvious non-canon approach to the character's back story. Your Rating: 3 out of 10
Monday, May 20, 2013
Jim's Movie Reviews: Star Trek Into Darkness
Star Trek: Into Darkeness is the second Star Trek feature film offering helmed by J.J. Abrams, and is the twelfth to share the Trek moniker. While previous entries in the franchise worked from the established canon of the 1966 television show and previous films, Abrams's 2009 offering, Star Trek, replaced the the much-beloved original cast in favor of a younger set of actors and re-imagined the mythos from the beginning. The back story was not all that was changed, however, as there was a definite shift in tone from considered, high-minded sci-fi themes to a focus on action, adventure, and pageantry.
The first of Abrams's films in the franchise sailed on to box-office success, and a certain level of critical acclaim as a sci-fi action/adventure film. Fans of the 2009 Star Trek may want to see Into Darkness, as it maintains the cast, back story, director, and sensibilities of the first of Abrams's efforts. But there are those detractors who say Abrams has missed the point of Star Trek, and his focus on the more visceral aspects has cost the franchise its soul.
My hope, in providing this review, is to give perspective on the film, both as the action/adventure vehicle it is, and how well it "fits" with established notions of character and plot from previous productions in the franchise. This review will assume some familiarity with the Star Trek universe, and although it may describe certain scenes and settings, an attempt will be made at doing so without major spoilers. I saw the film in 3D IMAX opening weekend, at a newer theater (in great seats, btw).
This time around, I'm going to lay things out in a question/answer format.
Does the movie live up to the hype? Most assuredly. Hype being, of course, linked to those visceral elements we talked about previously. If you were thrilled with the visuals afforded you in the previews, you'll get an amped version of this in the theater, especially if you enjoy 3D and opt to see it that way. Unlike Iron Man 3, for example, the 3D in Trek is seamless, and in my opinion enhances the film experience greatly. Space looks endless, chasms look deep, ships are imposing, debris is hurled with exciting depth and bombast. The camera work on this film is simply stunning, and what the film-makers do with real-world sets and digital environments is nothing short of brilliant. So far as settings are concerned, the term "epic" comes to mind early and often, as we get a more fully-realized vision of the various parts and pieces of the worlds of Trek than the 2009 film. The Enterprise herself is tossed, turned, torn open and slammed in ways that previous feature films in the franchise could only dream of. We've come a long, long way from the original series cast throwing themselves around the bridge consoles in mock distress, and Abrams never shies from letting the audience know that the lethal vacuum of space is just a bulkhead away. The movie is filled with harrowing chase sequences, destructible environments, gripping hand-to-hand combat, and other action-movie essentials, and it's all paced and shot expertly to deliver an edge-of-your seat experience.
Is the movie true to the original Star Trek? In what I see as the most essential way one can be "true" to a franchise having hundreds, perhaps thousands of creators attached to it over the past 45 years, yes it is. The characters are all very well cared for here, the central figures of which (Kirk and Spock) each have a definite, relateable character arc. These are characters with soul, and their interactions evoke the spirit of the original.
But make no mistake, Into Darkness maintains its hold on the action/adventure model at the expense of certain ethereal elements of the original series and movies. Character traits are still exaggerated to the nth degree, much as in the 2009 film. Those looking for a predictably stoic Spock are bound to be disappointed, as there is an undercurrent of emotion evident in his character throughout the film. Rather than the audience guessing through the subtleties of a vulcan/human hybrid's emotional spectrum, we get to witness the character instead try to negotiate a storm of feelings via oft-misplaced rationality. Although fully lovable and expertly performed, Scotty and McCoy remain more comic relief and mcguffin-providers than fully realized characters.
There are changes and revisions of technical canon as well, especially where set-pieces are concerned. The Enterprise's engineering section, for example, is still a converted brewery with a few tacked-on sci-fi-ish apparatus to convince the audience they're looking at the guts of a starship. For better or worse, Abrams always opts for that which is visually appealing and most advantageous to story over that which is most true to the set-piece measurements and fictional technical elements of the original. There will be much wailing and gnashing of teeth among die-hard "Trek tech" experts with their Enterprise blue-prints and warp core diagrams.
Is there anything wrong with the movie? Why yes, now that you ask, there are some things objectively wrong with the movie, in my opinion. Although Abrams is a master at delivering an action sequence, for example, and creating engaging situations for characters, there is often some transparent McGuffin involved in moving the chess pieces into place. A minuscule side-conflict or seemingly out-of-character moment will happen out of the blue, and one realizes later that it was only there to move character A to point B so they could do C. A piece of technology is produced out of the blue, and one soon realizes that it is there only to perform some minor story function, whereupon it will be quickly laid aside. This is especially evident in ship-to-ship combat. Although this is certainly not the first time we've seen this in Trek's long history (nearly all of the combat in Wrath Of Khan, for example, went against established original series "rules"), it happens so often and so overtly in this film that it detracted from my experience. It wouldn't have been as bad, in my opinion, to simply break the rules sometimes, rather than point out the rule, point out the whiz-bang new device that allows one to break it, then break it.
The other problem, for me, is that so much homage is made to the original cast movies, that it borders on pantomime. There is a scene in the movie (and a nearly unnecessary one, with a little wrangling) that is a complete re-make of a scene from a previous Trek film, with characters juxtaposed as if to say, "it's alike, and yet so different". My take on this is that Abrams is trying to provide an homage to appease fans of the original crew, but it comes off as audience pandering that is just, well, hamfisted and totally unnecessary. I was moved to nostalgia during the scene, which may have been the intended purpose, but nostalgia just didn't fit with the tone, for me.
Is it a good movie? An enthusiastic yes, from me, although there are some problems. I don't mind at all Abrams's take on Trek; I think it stands as a worthy effort in almost every regard on its own, albeit not what others expect from the franchise. Benedict Cumberbatch is a welcome addition as Kirk's main nemesis, and although the cast is spot-on in any of their given roles, he steals many a scene. Although many of the features and takeaway of Abrams's films differ from things we've seen with the original cast and crew, I don't think this version can detract from what was already committed to film....if you're a fan of old Trek, and not a fan of new Trek, then rest assured no one's burning the old master reels or trying to censor you in any way...disregard these new entries as you see fit. Laying aside comparisons for a moment, Into Darkness is a terrifically entertaining movie that uses familiar characters to tell a new and interesting story, while providing plenty of excitement.
Overall rating: 8.5 out of 10.
Monday, May 6, 2013
Jim's Movie Reviews - Iron Man 3
Iron Man 3 has officially had the second-largest opening box office in cinematic history. Some reviewers, especially those close to the comics community, are lauding it as the best of the three films, and I've even heard favorable comparisons to Avengers. Does it live up to the hype? Does it surpass previous takes in the franchise? In some ways, I think so. In other ways, not so much. I saw the movie in non-Imax-3D last Friday with a crew of fans from Captain Blue Hen comics, and opinions varied slightly along a theme...
The review below, in case you're wondering, is written by a fan of Marvel Studios, a comics reader, comics pod-caster, and all-around superhero movie aficionado. It's written by and for a person familiar with the first two entries in the series, and the larger Marvel Studios cinematic universe. That doesn't mean I'm not looking for the same things from my movies as is your typical movie-goer, and it doesn't mean I'm not willing to forgive departures from the various written takes on the characters. I watch movies to be entertained by good movies, and I read comics to be entertained by good comics, and unlike some more zealous comics fans, I'm willing to forgive when it comes to forgoing some of the finer details of the comics character when translating to film, so long as it's done in the name of quality. There are some spoilers ahead, as an in-depth review is all but impossible to do without describing certain scenes and set-ups.
What it does right: Iron Man 3 marks a return to, and a deeper exploration of, the introspective Tony Stark character that we saw in Iron Man. Much of the movie is devoted to establishing Tony as a man of some maturity and sense of responsibility, the seeds for which were planted in the first film. Tony is dealing with his role as de-facto head of Stark Industries (Potts's directorship notwithstanding) without the staple military contracts it used to subsist on, his committed relationship with Pepper Potts in place of the random one-night-stands he spent much of his youth cultivating, the remnants of his playboy image that continue to affect his everyday life, and the additional public role of superhero/savior added to an already insane level of public scrutiny. The sheer weight of it all puts the character in a fantastic pressure cooker of roles and responsibilities, not the least of which is his fresh awareness of the gods, monsters, aliens and other fantastic threats he faces in the role he built for himself as penance for past foibles. Tony Stark used to be a man who believed in his weapons, in his armor, as a means to free the world from war and worry. Now, however, he's haunted by visions of threats from the great beyond he is powerless to explain or quantify. He's a man who prides himself on his readiness, on his ability to engineer his way past every contingency, and the events of Avengers have more or less slapped this notion of the 'prepared man' down like a schoolyard bully. Stark feels like he's just gone a few rounds with a late-80's Mike Tyson, and for good reason, and the film does a great job of illustrating this. His relationship to Pepper is clarified and continues to grow, his lieutenants, including Rhodey and Happy, are fleshed out and convincingly motivated. The main antagonist is a defined character that, although he has a very comic-bookish origin story, is ready to play the big screen, and he's sufficiently empowered and motivated to take on a solo Iron Man.
The film also treads new ground with its depiction of a Tony Stark who is capable and formidable outside the armor. Much of the film is spent on an armor-less or de-powered Stark forced to use the tools at hand to defeat his enemies, and there are some cheer-worthy moments of triumph (in fact, they're the best moments of the film) that have little to do with a man in a tin suit. If you're like me, you'll watch the film expecting at some point a musical montage where Tony builds an armor that is even more badass and goes forth to dispatch some hapless evil-doer with his top-secret falcon punch or some other such contrivance. Spoiler Alert: That moment never comes. Kudos to the writers for understanding that the powers don't make the hero, and for finding ways to depict that while maintaining the action and excitement.
(Very minor spoilers ahead) Halfway through the film, Tony encounters Harley Keener, a young boy who assists him in whatever way he can, and provides Tony with some much-needed grounding and perspective. Everything about this sequence is good and right: It holds true to the spirit of the super hero genre, taps into what makes these characters great in the eyes of young people, and provides several touchstones for the hopeful fan in all of us to identify with. The movie is almost worth it for these scenes alone.
What It Doesn't Do Right: The film suffers horribly from the creators' push to one-up previous entries in the Marvel Studios stable in the action department. One of the action scenes (you likely saw hints of this in the previews) ends with a mid-air stunt sequence that is so laughably implausible that a collective groan from the audience is all but inevitable. "It's like, super-Point Break, man! It's like Point Break times eleven!" The film suffers in the third act from a dearth of settings and set-pieces, and getting the protagonist to the various settings in the desired condition becomes a mental mapping exercise that pulls you from the film.
The minions of Aldrich Killian, faceless ex-military types empowered with the Xtremis formula, don't amount to much. Far from being convincingly motivated, the audience is to believe that once you drink the Killian Kool-Aid, you become his murderous thrall, willing to pillage and plunder at the risk of your life and the assured death of hundreds. None has a back story worthy of note, nor is any one of them motivated beyond their listing in the credits. Like other homage to the comics in this film, the organization they work for is more trope than anything.
And why (spoilers ahead), oh why, did they do such a good job of showing Tony kick ass outside the armor, then end the movie with a protracted battle involving drone suits of armor controlled by the robotic Jarvis AI? The point is not that the concept is bad, it's just executed in a way that is over-long and too involved. What should have been a brief aside, a sort-of "look at the resources I can call upon when I'm up against the ropes" trope, is given too much screen time and eventually devolves into meaningless fireworks to punctuate the final confrontation. The characters and set pieces are already there for a more personalized final battle between Stark and Killian, but the faceless denizens and cohorts of the antagonist and the drone armor take center stage, and the audience is emotionally invested in neither. Worse, you know why it's there: You can envision the board meeting where this conflagration was contrived; you can almost feel the slimy fingers of the suits and financial backers on the script, demanding the final sequence sell more toys. It's a pity that, at the end of it all, a resourceful Tony outside his armor must bring not one, not two, but perhaps 15 versions of the armor to the battle, then suffer the indignity of a disembodied AI taking on the hero role. Far from the masterfully executed, operatic camera ballet afforded us in the final scene of Avengers, involving characters we care about, we're subjected to a continuous barrage of non-character-on-non-character violence that quickly devolves into a mindless pyrotechnic display. A more personal Tony vs. Bad Guy (no pun intended) scene is called for here, but we don't get it.
The character of the Mandarin (minor spoilers ahead) is almost entirely squandered in this film. This is more a comics fans' complaint, as he exists in the film without taking much away from it, and is performed by Kingsley in a convincing and comical fashion. However, those of us familiar with the books know there was character to be mined here, and we're denied all but a Russel Brand-inspired piece of trype. He was reasonably well-played with an eye for humor, but entirely wasted in comparison to what could have been.
My Recommendation: Although the movie gets a lot right (scenes involving "the mechanic" and his side-kick are pure gold), it also hosts enough wrongdoing and corporatized intrusion on the script that it doesn't belong, in my view, alongside the first in the series, nor does it invite favorable comparison to the seminal Avengers. It invites, instead, comparisons to Iron Man 2 in terms of subject matter and quality. A 6, perhaps aspiring to a 7 on a 10 scale, for me.
The review below, in case you're wondering, is written by a fan of Marvel Studios, a comics reader, comics pod-caster, and all-around superhero movie aficionado. It's written by and for a person familiar with the first two entries in the series, and the larger Marvel Studios cinematic universe. That doesn't mean I'm not looking for the same things from my movies as is your typical movie-goer, and it doesn't mean I'm not willing to forgive departures from the various written takes on the characters. I watch movies to be entertained by good movies, and I read comics to be entertained by good comics, and unlike some more zealous comics fans, I'm willing to forgive when it comes to forgoing some of the finer details of the comics character when translating to film, so long as it's done in the name of quality. There are some spoilers ahead, as an in-depth review is all but impossible to do without describing certain scenes and set-ups.
What it does right: Iron Man 3 marks a return to, and a deeper exploration of, the introspective Tony Stark character that we saw in Iron Man. Much of the movie is devoted to establishing Tony as a man of some maturity and sense of responsibility, the seeds for which were planted in the first film. Tony is dealing with his role as de-facto head of Stark Industries (Potts's directorship notwithstanding) without the staple military contracts it used to subsist on, his committed relationship with Pepper Potts in place of the random one-night-stands he spent much of his youth cultivating, the remnants of his playboy image that continue to affect his everyday life, and the additional public role of superhero/savior added to an already insane level of public scrutiny. The sheer weight of it all puts the character in a fantastic pressure cooker of roles and responsibilities, not the least of which is his fresh awareness of the gods, monsters, aliens and other fantastic threats he faces in the role he built for himself as penance for past foibles. Tony Stark used to be a man who believed in his weapons, in his armor, as a means to free the world from war and worry. Now, however, he's haunted by visions of threats from the great beyond he is powerless to explain or quantify. He's a man who prides himself on his readiness, on his ability to engineer his way past every contingency, and the events of Avengers have more or less slapped this notion of the 'prepared man' down like a schoolyard bully. Stark feels like he's just gone a few rounds with a late-80's Mike Tyson, and for good reason, and the film does a great job of illustrating this. His relationship to Pepper is clarified and continues to grow, his lieutenants, including Rhodey and Happy, are fleshed out and convincingly motivated. The main antagonist is a defined character that, although he has a very comic-bookish origin story, is ready to play the big screen, and he's sufficiently empowered and motivated to take on a solo Iron Man.
The film also treads new ground with its depiction of a Tony Stark who is capable and formidable outside the armor. Much of the film is spent on an armor-less or de-powered Stark forced to use the tools at hand to defeat his enemies, and there are some cheer-worthy moments of triumph (in fact, they're the best moments of the film) that have little to do with a man in a tin suit. If you're like me, you'll watch the film expecting at some point a musical montage where Tony builds an armor that is even more badass and goes forth to dispatch some hapless evil-doer with his top-secret falcon punch or some other such contrivance. Spoiler Alert: That moment never comes. Kudos to the writers for understanding that the powers don't make the hero, and for finding ways to depict that while maintaining the action and excitement.
(Very minor spoilers ahead) Halfway through the film, Tony encounters Harley Keener, a young boy who assists him in whatever way he can, and provides Tony with some much-needed grounding and perspective. Everything about this sequence is good and right: It holds true to the spirit of the super hero genre, taps into what makes these characters great in the eyes of young people, and provides several touchstones for the hopeful fan in all of us to identify with. The movie is almost worth it for these scenes alone.
What It Doesn't Do Right: The film suffers horribly from the creators' push to one-up previous entries in the Marvel Studios stable in the action department. One of the action scenes (you likely saw hints of this in the previews) ends with a mid-air stunt sequence that is so laughably implausible that a collective groan from the audience is all but inevitable. "It's like, super-Point Break, man! It's like Point Break times eleven!" The film suffers in the third act from a dearth of settings and set-pieces, and getting the protagonist to the various settings in the desired condition becomes a mental mapping exercise that pulls you from the film.
The minions of Aldrich Killian, faceless ex-military types empowered with the Xtremis formula, don't amount to much. Far from being convincingly motivated, the audience is to believe that once you drink the Killian Kool-Aid, you become his murderous thrall, willing to pillage and plunder at the risk of your life and the assured death of hundreds. None has a back story worthy of note, nor is any one of them motivated beyond their listing in the credits. Like other homage to the comics in this film, the organization they work for is more trope than anything.
And why (spoilers ahead), oh why, did they do such a good job of showing Tony kick ass outside the armor, then end the movie with a protracted battle involving drone suits of armor controlled by the robotic Jarvis AI? The point is not that the concept is bad, it's just executed in a way that is over-long and too involved. What should have been a brief aside, a sort-of "look at the resources I can call upon when I'm up against the ropes" trope, is given too much screen time and eventually devolves into meaningless fireworks to punctuate the final confrontation. The characters and set pieces are already there for a more personalized final battle between Stark and Killian, but the faceless denizens and cohorts of the antagonist and the drone armor take center stage, and the audience is emotionally invested in neither. Worse, you know why it's there: You can envision the board meeting where this conflagration was contrived; you can almost feel the slimy fingers of the suits and financial backers on the script, demanding the final sequence sell more toys. It's a pity that, at the end of it all, a resourceful Tony outside his armor must bring not one, not two, but perhaps 15 versions of the armor to the battle, then suffer the indignity of a disembodied AI taking on the hero role. Far from the masterfully executed, operatic camera ballet afforded us in the final scene of Avengers, involving characters we care about, we're subjected to a continuous barrage of non-character-on-non-character violence that quickly devolves into a mindless pyrotechnic display. A more personal Tony vs. Bad Guy (no pun intended) scene is called for here, but we don't get it.
The character of the Mandarin (minor spoilers ahead) is almost entirely squandered in this film. This is more a comics fans' complaint, as he exists in the film without taking much away from it, and is performed by Kingsley in a convincing and comical fashion. However, those of us familiar with the books know there was character to be mined here, and we're denied all but a Russel Brand-inspired piece of trype. He was reasonably well-played with an eye for humor, but entirely wasted in comparison to what could have been.
My Recommendation: Although the movie gets a lot right (scenes involving "the mechanic" and his side-kick are pure gold), it also hosts enough wrongdoing and corporatized intrusion on the script that it doesn't belong, in my view, alongside the first in the series, nor does it invite favorable comparison to the seminal Avengers. It invites, instead, comparisons to Iron Man 2 in terms of subject matter and quality. A 6, perhaps aspiring to a 7 on a 10 scale, for me.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Snippets from around the web: Prometheus
Before this blog was created, I frequently used internet discussion forums as pulpits from which to belabor my observations on films. These would usually be a more in-depth treatment of certain aspects as part of an argument, dialogue or detailed discussion. What follows are my thoughts on Prometheus, re-assembled from various forum posts around the web. Keep in mind that these are simple cut/paste jobs, and have not received much by way of editing for grammar.
Also, there may be spoilers ahead.
On the back-story vs. what we saw in the theater:
"Prometheus has a great story...someone really should make a movie about it.
I'm not talking about a formulaic approach to writing, I'm talking about being able to tell a story in general. Yes, it's fun to pick apart Prometheus by adding our own "what if's" and "I woulda's" and "the director says's"...my point is that there is little on screen to justify any of it. The merit, for me, in a piece like Prometheus must be demonstrated by what it conveys in the theater, not the enrichment we exercise in terms of adding content from outside media, relying on cast and writer/director interviews, etc. just to decipher main plot points and ideas central to its function. An artist doesn't present a painting and then say, "See, this is a nice painting, but what really makes it cool is if you imagine it being a better painting than it is, and imagine a bunch of really interesting bits I didn't paint happening in areas outside the canvas. What I painted was a bunch of random, scary, violent bits happening to people we don't care about...but it's really about religion, the quest for knowledge and the birth of humanity. It's just that all the smart things happen off-canvas. Smart people will imagine really smart things on the blank wall next to the painting, see?"
Prometheus has some great imagery. A few of the actors conveyed emotion very well. It just has very, very little in terms of story to offer, and even less character development. Unless you write a story for it yourself, or let that story be told to you in an interview or by someone with similar taste in guesswork to your own, you're relying on gossamer-thin elements on screen to create some sort of grand scheme to explain it all."
A more generalized review, but continuing the themes above:
"I think Prometheus presented some pretty compelling imagery and acting performances, and perhaps the background to the story is insanely rich and complex...but what they put on the screen in terms of story is seriously lacking. Honestly, any movie where you have to rely on interviews with the director to fill in the plot holes, background, symbolism and character motivations isn't doing it right. Prometheus hinted at a grand and epic scope, but delivered a claustrophobic and cut-off viewpoint that left the machinations of the antagonists incomprehensible, and the motivations of the protagonists indecipherable.
[Spoilers]"Well, it's sin-goo, see, and it mimics your demeanor, becoming an abhorrent biological weapon of destruction in the presence of the evil of mankind by subordinating both the fearful imagery of his dark, twisted soul and his genetic pro-creative processes, as revenge for the crucifixion of Jesus, who is obviously an alien emissary of the engineers, they being a representation of man's proto-self and having been imbibed with the power of divinity via science! I mean, black slime equals sin equals jesus equals aborted squid-monster, it's all very one-two-three, very connect-the-dots. Here, read Neitsche's Thus Spoke Zarathustra, then watch these interviews, oh, and familiarize yourself with the New Testament. It's sooooo obvious now, isn't it? The engineer tears the android's head off and kills everyone in the room because the android is a mis-representation of the selfless model of perfection man was meant to achieve, begotten of man's greed and there as an errand-boy for an unenlightened glutton who wants more life, like Roy from Blade Runner. A two-year-old could figure this shit out!"
So, yeah, I didn't find it the be-all-end-all statement I'd hoped for. I do believe the background to the story, as pieced together by various interviews, reference to written work, and seat-of-the-pants conjecture on my part could be something special....it just didn't manifest in the movie itself...and these (let's call them "douche bags" because it's entertaining) people that read all those interviews with writers and directors, and peruse all the blogs written about the theory behind the movie, then come out swinging with quips like "I can't believe you didn't get the obvious metaphors here," and "the symbolism is self-evident" and all that can just suck it: There's little in the movie itself to justify these connections to a larger back-story, or creative links to religion and philosophy...in other words, the movie itself is what I prefer to critique, not the more far-reaching thoughts of the writers that, while they may be compelling, just didn't make it into the film.
Here's a hard example of what I'm talking about: When the party is exploring the engineers' hangout, one of them makes the observation that the facility is 2000 years old. Now, according to interviews with the writers, this is a reference to the time of Jesus, and that the supposed straw that broke the camel's back and made the engineers build a weapons facility with the intent of destroying humanity was the crucifixion of Jesus, he being an emissary of the engineers meant to show us how to right the course as a species. Sorry, but while that may be a great plot point, simply having "2000 years ago" appear once in the dialogue isn't enough for any audience member besides Jeff Goldblum to draw that conclusion. The antagonists in this film have complex motivations, but every opportunity to bring these to light, or give the audience even a cursory outline of their motivations, is wasted.
One might be asking, "With the the decision having been made by the engineers to wipe humanity out, what obligation do the antagonists have to reveal their purpose to the crew, and what opportunities do they have to do so?" Well, to that I say the obligation is that of the writers, and the android himself seems a character designed with exactly that in mind....he deciphers their language, and much of their intent, early on. He could serve as the perfect translating mechanism between the mind of the author and the audience. But at the one opportunity for dialogue between the two species, the engineer is written to immediately tear his head off. At other opportunities for the android to expose the machinations of the engineers, such as when he enters and manipulates their computers for information, he stays quiet. So, there are these perfect opportunities to let the audience in on some of your plot, but they're wasted...
Here's a thought: Wouldn't this have made a better tv show? Imagine if, instead of two-hours or so of exposition, you had tens of hours to flesh out the plot and provide hints and detail...I think this was written by someone in a tv-centric hand, having bitten off too much background and plot to portray well in the running time allotted, and leaving way too much expose in the dark recesses off-camera. I get the sense this is an epic story that was only given an episode's worth of storytelling."
Labels:
discussion,
forum posts,
forums,
movie review,
movies,
Prometheus,
random,
sci-fi
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)



