Whiplash

While Whiplash isn't the most recent of this year's Best Picture nominees to be seen by me, I decided to save it for my final review of the eight films being considered.  Rarely does a film deliver so completely on the promise it makes.  What I mean is this; the first two acts of a film deserve a final act that brings the purpose of the film home.  That doesn't necessarily mean a happy ending, or tying-up all loose ends; rather it means that there is a perfect ending to every film.  I would suggest that only one in a thousand films ever get close, and Whiplash has definitely accomplished this better than any other film this past year.  There were a few times throughout the film when I wondered "where is this going?"  Even ten minutes before the movie ended I could see that there were many possible outcomes, but never would have envisioned the one that played out.  Yet I don't want to leave the impression that a great ending makes up for a bad movie; it will never be so.  No Country for Old Men, The Godfather, and The Village; these are all great films that captivate you from start to finish, they pull you in and then end precisely where they should.  Whiplash is about a young man obsessed with being a great drummer.  Not only does he dream of this, he has talent and the work ethic to pursue his dream.  There is one man who may be the catalyst to his dream or may be the insurmountable obstacle.  The man is played by J.K. Simmons as a jazz band conductor who verbally and emotionally abuses his students.  Other reviewers have described his character as a monster, and I tend to agree.  That confronting a monster could be necessary to achieving one's dreams is an interesting subtext to this film. 

The two films that I would ever want to see again that were nominated for best picture this year are The Grand Budapest Hotel and Whiplash, with Whiplash being the best film of the bunch.  The worst film was far and away American Sniper, which is too bad because it really could have been a powerful film, and with its popularity Clint Eastwood really missed an opportunity.  Alright, well back to homework, hopefully I'll get to review movies more regularly in the coming year.

Birdman

Rob and I took a gamble yesterday afternoon, braving the wintry conditions to see Birdman, hoping to beat the blizzard.  Rob remembers the storm of '97 when he got stuck at work for days in a row (he wasn't happy).  I tried to console him, pointing out that getting stuck at a movie theater would be awesome; they'd have to feed us, let us see all the movies, and probably give us cool stuff too – I was almost hoping to get snowed-in.  To make a long story short, we saw Birdman, and made it home safely, just ahead of the snow… too bad.

Michael Keaton was excellent in Birdman, as was everyone else; Emma Stone, Naomi Watts, Edward Norton et al.  Going into the film I was not aware that it would flow together as one extended shot; obviously an elaborate trick in the editing room, yet still quite impressive.  That aside, it was a remarkable, singular experience that was entertaining in the moment, but fails to leave any reason to recommend it.  Keaton plays a washed-up version of himself, whose main claim to fame was a role as Birdman, an obvious allusion to Keaton's role as Batman.  Keaton's character has financed, adapted, is directing and is starring in a Broadway play, in the hopes of validating a life which otherwise is defined by the shallowest commercialism of Hollywood.  The film should be a satire, pointing out the emptiness of acting regardless of stage of silver screen.  While elements of that film exist, it never quite goes far enough, being content in the story it tells instead of acknowledging the lessons that could be learned.  I hope that the filmmakers understand the irony that they have made a shallow movie about a man who is looking to escape the shallowness of movies.

Selma

I must admit that certain things I had heard kept Selma off my list of desired viewing.  That I liked the film should remind me that other people quite often have poor taste, and low expectations are more easily exceeded (I think that's a paraphrase of Homer Simpson).  There are three elements to Selma which I believe contribute to it being a successful film; scope, casting, and heart.  By focusing on one chapter in Martin Luther King Jr.'s life, the events in Selma Alabama, the film captures King's contribution to mankind without trying to be a biography.  David Oyelowo as Martin Luther King Jr. was spot-on, delivering speeches with measured charisma and portraying King as a man who struggled with his burden in the private moments with his wife and close friends.  Never did King seem to give into his struggles; rather he was encouraged by those who God placed in positions of advisors.  I liked that he was bold and a strong leader, yet humble enough to submit when wisdom came from various sources.  The heart of the film is a genuine honoring of King's commitment to stand up for those who cannot stand for themselves.  Even though there were plenty of opportunities for King to derail, he stayed true to his beliefs, and I think that the film followed his example.

The Imitation Game

I usually try to avoid movie trailers because they too often negate the necessity of actually watching the movie (and I like watching movies).  Sometimes the trailer is actually superior to the film, as with American Sniper and any of the Iron Man movies.  I mention this because I had seen the trailer for The Imitation Game, which essentially is a summary of the entire film.  Sure the trailer doesn't emphasize how being different, specifically being a homosexual, gave the main character an advantage; the ability to solve a problem that saved many lives and helped the Allies win World War II.  The performances are sound, Benedict Cumberbatch plays Alan Turing (the father of computers) as a socially awkward genius, quite similar to his Sherlock Holmes role, but with a bit more humanity.  The supporting characters aren't really very interesting, but contribute what is necessary to the film.  The stand-out element of the film comes in the form of flashbacks, as we see a young man who befriended Turing in his boarding school days.  The kindness and encouragement that Turing received from this older student had an important impact on the man he becomes.  Unfortunately the depth and thoughtfulness that is depicted in these flashbacks doesn't carry over into the rest of the movie.  If you've seen the trailer, there is no need to go an further.

The Theory of Everything

Jess, Ashley, Jude and I watched The Theory of Everything this past week.  It's nice to be able to sit down with family and watch a good movie, one that inspires interest in characters and questions about the specific events portrayed within.  I had preconceived notions about this film, knowing something of the story already and assuming that it would be very favorable towards its main character.  The film is about Stephen Hawking, the gifted physicist who has long suffered from motor neurone disease.  Hawking has been a leader in modern Cosmology, hypothesizing "that the universe has no edge or boundary in imaginary time. This would imply that the way the universe began was completely determined by the laws of science" (hawking.org.uk). The Theory of Everything is about three different struggles that go on simultaneously in Hawking's life; his illness, his scientific research, and his relationship with his wife.  It is tragic that he can never triumph in any of these struggles without it negatively affecting the others.  When he finally finds someone who can help him overcome his physical limitations, he abandons his wife for her.  I am simplifying the film of course; it is quite thoughtful in its portrayal of Hawking, and the people in his life who care for him.  I was surprised by his wife's commitment to her belief in God, even when her husband seemed intent on disproving God's existence, she didn't seem concerned.  What is interesting is that work done by Hawking and his counterparts in the scientific community is quite often amazing; only their preconceptions keep them from the truth.  Towards the end of the film Hawking is giving a lecture, and encourages the audience by telling them that even though they are insignificant little specs in an immense universe, there's something very special about each person.  In one of the next movies I review, Selma, one of Martin Luther King Jr.'s friends reminds him that if God cares about the birds "Are you not of more value than they?" (Matthew 6:26).  Isn't it interesting that Stephen Hawking intellectually came to the same conclusion, unfortunately he just doesn't believe it.

Boyhood

Jess and I watched Boyhood about a week ago, and while it wasn't a great film, it definitely is a memorable one.  As you probably know, Richard Linklater filmed Boyhood over a twelve year span, which means that the same actors actually age twelve years over the course of this 2 ½ hour film.  This alone makes the film memorable; even with the best special effects artists it is impossible for makeup to portray the passage of time as convincingly as the actual passage of time.  This twelve year experiment is not entirely successful; partly because it is distracting, and partly because it lacks continuity.  The exception to this analysis is Ethan Hawke's performance; he plays the father to Mason (the boy referenced in the title).  Instead of being distracted by physical aging, we see the consistency that exists in his relationship to Mason over the twelve years.    Perhaps what this film most clearly demonstrates is that experiments and gimmicks are unnecessary in filmmaking – a good story, good dialogue, and a great actor is all you need.  

The Grand Budapest Hotel

This will be the first of seven brief reviews that I will post today; with these seven reviews I will have covered each of the films nominated for best picture from the past year.  In my final review I will reveal which film is my choice to win tonight.

I saw The Grand Budapest Hotel almost a year ago, and I must have been too busy to write a review at the time.  It's somewhat surprising to me that this film is nominated for best picture, but as you will discover in my other reviews of the nominees The Grand Budapest Hotel deserves this recognition more than a few others.  I've enjoyed each of Wes Anderson's films, I think that he made one great Oscar-worthy film, but this isn't it.  But maybe that is the wrong way to look at it…  This film shouldn't be compared against prior work, but on to other films also nominated this year.  Here is a film that is funny, has a vivid color palette (which matches the film's atmosphere), entertaining, and quirky.  That it doesn't have substance keeps it from being one of Anderson's best, but maybe just being entertaining will be enough to give Anderson the win this year.  Anderson does an excellent job of presenting characters that are interesting and unique.  While the backdrop changes between each of his films, he always zeros-in on the most fascinating people.  The Grand Budapest Hotel has a pulse, it is alive.  This is one of two movies nominated this year that I'd ever want to watch again, and that definitely is more important to me than who wins the title of Best Picture.

American Sniper

Clint Eastwood's American Sniper is an odd blend of themes and genres that have been covered before, but this specific combination left me feeling unsettled.  There are elements of an action movie here which draw a stark contrast to the thoughtful character study.  In his earlier film Gran Torino, Eastwood found the right balance, keeping a tight focus on the protagonist's perspective.  With the current film, we the audience are outside observers, never quite understanding what is motivating the characters onscreen.  Bradley Cooper plays Chris Kyle, a Navy sniper who is credited as being the most deadly sniper in American history.  The film follows Kyle as he struggled through an aimless early adulthood, a period which was abruptly interrupted when an attack against America prompted him to join the military.  By the time September 11^th arrives and American troops are called upon to take the fight abroad, Kyle has become an expert Seal sniper.  These introductory chapters are rather simplistic in explaining Kyle's motivation.  A sense of patriotism is paired with the philosophy that there are three kinds of people; sheep, wolves, and sheep dogs. 

Kyle's fellow Seals and Marines are portrayed without much depth, their behavior and dialogue is reminiscent of action movies – without the humorous banter of a 90s Schwarzenegger movie.  Kyle is portrayed by Cooper as focused and brooding; I specifically used the word brooding even though I believe that the intent was to convey introspection.  He snaps back at those who celebrate kills on the battlefield, and is uncomfortable with gratitude he receives for his service.  While the Kyle character claims that his motivation is saving American lives and fighting evil, it is never adequately explained how it was possible for him to take so many lives and keep his sanity.  Perhaps it was just me, but there seemed to be an elephant in the room with every return trip to Iraq; was Kyle's sense of duty the only reason he kept killing?  I am reminded of a film that was not hesitant to address this question; Patton acknowledged that war defined the man, not only would Patton have not fulfilled his purpose without war, he also loved it.  I left American Sniper unsettled because I didn't know the answer to that one question.  Perhaps Eastwood intended for me to feel this way, knowing that a successful film should be thought-provoking.

Beyond the unanswered question, Eastwood's direction, focus, and editing choices seemed to be lacking.  Scenes that should have been gut-wrenchingly powerful, specifically ones that included violence directed at women and children were poorly executed.  At a moment that should have established Kyle's righteous anger towards a brutal Iraqi leader, the focus instead is on his rivalry with an enemy sniper.  Other films such as the 2008 Rambo, and Tears of the Sun exposed audiences to horrific atrocities, scenes that were difficult to watch.  Those moments were meant to both provide motivation for characters in the respective films, but more importantly remind us of the evil in the real world that must be fought.  Clint Eastwood is unsuccessful at portraying violence in this film with that deeper purpose, even though that seems to be his intent.  This film is far from perfect in its execution, yet the discussions it will prompt and the depiction of a true American hero (flaws and all) make this an important film.

Life Itself

Life Itself was a disappointment for two reasons; it didn't focus on the best attributes of its subject, and it revealed a hopeless emptiness which was quite depressing.  This film is a documentary based on Roger Ebert's autobiography, filmed primarily in Ebert's hospital room as he neared death.  Having not read the autobiography, I can only assume that it is more insightful and optimistic than this film.  The shroud of death and Ebert's painful struggle with cancer overshadow other aspects of his life; instead of focusing on what made Ebert great, this film documents his final days.  That would be alright if the final chapter in Ebert's time on earth was inspirational or poignant.  As Ebert struggled to communicate verbally, and eventually lost his ability to speak, he poured all his energy into blogging.  Ebert kept on reviewing an extraordinary number of films up to the end of his life, viewing the films at home and posting reviews online.  His website, RogerEbert.com was updated during this time to contain all the reviews he had ever written (he began officially on 1967).  While his film reviews will be his lasting legacy, little attention was given to explaining what makes them so important.  Steve James, the director operates under premise that Ebert was a great film reviewer and focuses primarily on his daily routines and the impressions of his friends and associates.  Instead of being a documentary, Life Itself works more as an obituary.  In the end the emptiness of Ebert's life is clearly apparent; James tries his best to spin the final scenes as peaceful and beautiful, yet they deliver tragic hopelessness.  A summary of this film would simply be; well-known Chicago film critic dies after long struggle with cancer.

As someone who loves reading Roger Ebert's film criticism and grew up enjoying Siskel and Ebert's "At the Movies" television program, Life Itself was a letdown.  Unfortunately I realize that the man behind the curtain is bound to be a disappointment.  Perhaps I should praise Life Itself for being an honest representation of the man Roger Ebert.  Still it makes me sad.

Hoop Dreams

I've wanted to watch Hoop Dreams for about twenty years, and yesterday I finally did.  In those twenty years I have seen quite a few movies, including Speed 2 and a live-action version of Alvin and the Chipmunks.  Why do I waste my time with such garbage when films like Hoop Dreams remain unwatched?  There's no good answer to that question, so let me simply discuss a great film and pretend that those other ones never existed.

Film can be a powerful medium, whether the images have been manipulated to illicit a specific reaction, or as in the case of Hoop Dreams is used as a window into an otherwise unseen world.  High school basketball is the backdrop of this film, but it is really about choices, attitudes, family, and consequences… life.  There was a point early in the film that prompted my suspicion; "are the filmmakers only showing one side of the story?"   As the film unfolds naturally, chronologically, my doubts were dispelled.  The film doesn't show contrasting points of view as one might expect in a political debate, instead it becomes clear that life isn't always that clear cut.  The film follows two boys from Chicago, William and Arthur, each playing on a competing high school basketball teams.  William's coach seems more interested in winning basketball games than in building the character of his players.  I got this impression from the things William said about him and from his own words during onscreen interviews.  Yet he is a basketball coach, tasked with generating revenue for the school.  Also, he does instill strong values and has high expectations of his players.  While I ended up not liking him, I believe that I came to that conclusion myself.  A great documentary has something you need to see – it shouldn't tell you what to think, if it shows you something true then it doesn't have to.

I finally got around to watching Hoop Dreams because it was considered to be "the great American documentary" by Roger Ebert.  Another film I have been looking forward to is Life Itself, a documentary about Ebert by the filmmaker of Hoop Dreams.  It just seemed natural to watch the one before the other.  I will let you know what I think about the more recent film soon (hopefully it'll take less than twenty years).

The Hobbit Part 3

My experience watching The Hobbit Part 3 was reminiscent of cross country races I formerly participated in.  Having been to one, I knew what to expect – an arduous journey that is only truly satisfying when it is finally over.  Cross country was character building and established friendships during an important chapter in my life.  The Hobbit trilogy has given my family a shared annual event, something to look forward to and enjoy together.  Yet neither the cross country or the Hobbit movies provide anything but agony and despair – merely they were the conduits which linked me to something good.

Alright, I recognize that "agony and despair" is a slight overstatement.  I remember good things about cross county; running through the woods, passing a few people, (those are the only two I can think of right now).  Similarly, the Hobbit trilogy provided a few bright moments; Bilbo and Gollum in the cave was pretty cool, Bilbo and Smaug in the cave was pretty cool, and hearing a familiar exchange between Bilbo and Gandalf from a different point of view in the third film was also pretty cool.  But really, 8 ½ + hours of video for 10 minutes of enjoyment, that seems unreasonable to me.

It's not Peter Jackson's fault that the Hobbit trilogy is so bad, it's our fault.  The Lord of the Rings was written, filmed, and edited with a sense of desperation that had previously made Star Wars great.  With a limited budget, limited resources, writers and actors who are passionate about the material, and one's own money and reputation on the line, films like The Fellowship of the Ring and A New Hope are possible.  Unfortunately, in both George Lucas' and Peter Jackson's cases, without the previously mentioned limitations, when left to their own devices, the results are disastrous.  Our consumption of the Lord of the Rings trilogy emboldened Jackson to morph into someone who would feel comfortable releasing the Hobbit movies.  Had we only known what we know now, perhaps things would be different.  Think of the artists who toil an entire lifetime, never achieving fame or fortune, yet their works are "discovered" years later to much acclaim.  Wouldn't it have been better to pretend that we didn't like the Lord of the Rings trilogy, forcing Jackson to struggle against all odds to get The Hobbit made?  Then perhaps, just maybe, it would be a much better film.

Before I close, I realize that this may be one of the worst movie reviews ever written; I haven't even discussed the movie itself.  The movie begins at a moment that assumes a recent viewing of the previous Hobbit entry.  In a better series that assumption might be appropriate (i.e. The Two Towers), but here it's simply confusing.  The characters in this film are so bland and indistinguishable (other than Bilbo) that they could be compared to extras in Schwarzenegger films from the 80s…  The AK-47 wielding enemies in Commando were never meant to evoke our sympathy; they existed only as M60-fodder.  Unfortunately everyone in the Hobbit movies feels like that.  Even the central characters Gandalf and Bilbo, who are protected by chronology, all too often get lost in the mess.  And the movie is a mess, not as bad as the last one, but that isn't saying much.  Battles within battles, so much fighting and enemies coming from every direction, without any substantive narrative.  Maybe it's just me, but good guys fighting bad guys does not make for a good storyline.  At least in Commando Schwarzenegger is on a mission to rescue his daughter.  The Hobbit movies offer no such motivation.  Unless I am mistaken, everyone is fighting over a really big pile of gold -- is no one concerned about inflation in Middle Earth?  That much coin injected into their economy will devalue everything.

Like a grueling cross country race, I am glad that the Hobbit trilogy is over. 

Interstellar

One of the most entertaining lectures I've been to involved a Physicist attempting to explain Einstein's theory of relativity.  It was entertaining for two reasons; the first being that few people can wrap their minds around the same things Einstein wrestled with, and the lecturer wasn't one of those people.  The other point of entertainment can best be summed up with the following quote:  "Neither of the two great pillars of modern physics — general relativity, which describes gravity as a curvature of space and time, and quantum mechanics, which governs the atomic realm — gives any account for the existence of space and time" (Merali).  Scientists painstakingly search for answers to fundamental questions, ignoring the explanation of Creation.

Let me be clear, science is extremely useful for understanding the intricacies of our universe.  Considering the relationship between space and time to be a fourth dimension is intuitive.  I believe that God is not constrained by it or any of the other three dimensions.  By that rationale I must conclude that there is a fifth dimension.  With his newest film Interstellar, Christopher Nolan takes us into this fifth dimension.  I guess ultimately I don't necessarily have a problem with there being a fifth dimension, only with how Nolan gets us there.

I wanted to seriously address the science behind this film, because I get the feeling that Interstellar will be held up as a "realistic" example in discussions about relativity and spacetime phenomena.  Nolan previously explored the complexity of human memory in one of my favorite films Memento.  In that film we saw the world in brief, disoriented segments, simulating the short term memory loss which plagued the protagonist.  Nolan is equally successful in portraying the complexity of spacetime theory through the eyes of a heroic farmer.  That's saying quite a bit, because the challenge undertaken in Interstellar is far greater than that of Memento.

It is unnecessary to comment on the film's technical merits, because they are flawless.  Upon first glance, certain sequences, such as the spinning earth or box robots may seem odd – but it's all amazingly spot-on.  The effects have been carefully designed to match the theory discussed by the characters; this is the film's strength and its weakness.  As with any work of fiction, it is important that the visuals support the dialogue to effectively tell a story.  On the other hand, if your premise is lacking, if the science is full of holes, then the matching visuals will come across as hokey.  Nolan's film doesn't become absurd due to poor filmmaking; on the contrary, it's excellent filmmaking that follows an absurd idea to its logical conclusion.

What I don't like about Nolan taking us into the fifth dimension, is the suggestion that man can achieve the position of God, without even acknowledging the existence of God.  I would suggest that certain parts of the Bible offer a view free from the constraints of time and space.  The idea that God existed before creation informs me that both time and space are elements which have origin… and I don't pretend to understand what "before time" looked like.  Nolan's exploration of these concepts without the inclusion of God may look pretty amazing, but ultimately it is an exercise in futility. 

Merali, Zeeya  Theoretical Physics: The Origins of Space and Time  Nature.com

Gone Girl (and other movies too)

I realize that it has been five months since I wrote a review about a new movie.  In that "missing time" I have seen four movies in the theater; Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, Guardians of the Galaxy, Sin City 2, and Gone Girl.  I took two classes over the summer which might partly explain the decrease in movie watching, but honestly there haven't been many movies that I've wanted to see. 

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes struck me as an extraordinary technical achievement in filmmaking.  The techniques which were used to bring Gollum to life in The Lord of the Rings have been improved significantly.  This movie represents a milestone; human characters and their effect-generated counterparts will become indistinguishable. 

Guardians of the Galaxy fulfilled its promise of being entertaining; which is saying quite a bit these days.  In an environment oversaturated by comic book movies/television shows, this was overall a refreshing deviation from the norm.  Sure it followed well traveled clichés, but the characters and the landscape set it apart.  I will still contend that it would be difficult to make a movie starring a raccoon named Rocket that isn't entertaining.

Sin City 2 followed the amazingly crafted visual experience of Sin City with a blasé, messy, pointless jumble of a movie.  Seriously the only thing this movie does well is reaffirm the notion that sequels are unnecessary.

I went to see Gone Girl last night.  I had seen the poster, but I have avoided any other contact with promotional material.  When David Fincher makes a movie I prefer to see it uncontaminated by spoilers.  Gone Girl will be studied for years to come as an example of mastery in film editing.  Fincher weaves an elaborate mystery, revealing each new piece of information exactly when it best contributes to the overall effect.  The opening dialogue is unsettling, but doesn't quite sink-in until halfway through the film.  Or at least it seems to make sense at the halfway point, when in fact the whole movie is necessary to truly understand.  Rarely have I been so manipulated by storytelling techniques as I was last night, and it wasn't until later that I understood the extent.  As long as you don't realize that you're being manipulated in the moment, it can be a good thing (in filmmaking).  Thanks to Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross' contribution to this film, I also experienced one of the tensest sequences ever filmed.  The sequence I'm referring to was simply a revelation by one of the main characters, but the dialogue, the film editing and the sound design all contributed to enhance the tension.  I feel compelled to include the following statement:  As I said before, this is a David Fincher film, so no matter what qualities I mentioned previously, it's still a Fincher film.

P.S.  I saw the trailer for Clint Eastwood's newest film American Sniper.  I can only assume that Eastwood must have overseen the editing of the trailer, because it is probably the most powerful trailer that I've ever seen.

Star Trek III: The Search for Spock*

Well over a year ago the kids and I began watching MacGyver, episode by episode.  Early this summer we finally finished watching the entire series including two made-for-TV movies.  We decided to begin a new series together and have begun watching Star Trek Enterprise, which to those unfamiliar with the premise, takes place chronologically before the events of the 1960's television program.  Last week we watched the newest Star Trek film Into Darkness, which led to some questions about conflicting timelines and character roles brought about by the reboot.  Since we had watched The Wrath of Khan quite a while ago, I thought that revisiting the original series, picking-up with The Search for Spock would be interesting, and answer some questions.  As the end titles rolled, and the "MCMLXXXIV" copyright appeared I began to wonder about my own Star Trek experience.  I definitely remember seeing Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home in the theater with my dad; I would have been about nine years old when it was released.  I know that I saw The Wrath of Khan (which was Star Trek II) at a relatively early age, because the Earwigs still stir-up memories of fear.  But I didn't see it in the theater during its original theatrical release because I would have only been five years old, therefore I must have seen it on VHS or during some re-release.  I honestly don't know which I saw first, and I'm not sure which of the other original cast films I have ever seen.  Add to that a very spotty viewing record of the original television series; I know that I haven't seen more than half the episodes, and surely they have been out of order.  My grasp of the Star Trek canon is extremely limited, now that I stop and think about it.  That being said, I am perfectly content with my knowledge of the subject, and I enjoy exploring new episodes and films with my children.  I am intrigued by the concept that their experience is similarly jumbled as mine, yet significantly different as well.  I hope that years from now they can share Star Trek with their children too --  that is if the can overcome the "nerd" stereotype as I have.

*My review of Star Trek III:  The Search for Spock is simply this:  Couldn't they have named it something else, allowing for some element of surprise when Spock is discovered?...  oh I'm sorry, I should have said "Spoiler Alert!"

Captain America 2 and Agents of Shield

     The kids and I have been watching Agents of Shield each Wednesday night (we DVR it while I'm at work on Tuesday).  When I first heard of an Avengers television show which featured absolutely no super-heroes, I had my doubts.  To my surprise, the series has much in common with the best Marvel movies, specifically dynamic characters.  Agents of Shield reminds me of the television I watched when I was a kid, when writers weren't above including positive messages and inspirational characters on the little screen.  I appreciate shows like Sherlock and Breaking Bad that have broken the barriers between television and film.  Typically I prefer television that reflects effort on the part of its creators instead of the in-between-commercials-filler which makes up 98% of TV today. While Agents of Shield is definitely a marketing ploy, it is also refreshingly fun.  Shows from the 80s like G.I. Joe and Knight Rider had to be entertaining first and foremost, but because they were so intrinsically goofy, the writers attempted to redeem themselves by incorporating virtuous characters and uplifting storylines.  Perhaps I'm being naïve; it is very likely that the positive elements were included to evade FCC regulation of shows which were basically toy commercials for kids.  Regardless, I have fond memories of those shows, and Agents of Shield stirs up those good feelings.

Captain America 2 follows the same playbook that inspires its small screen cousin Agents of Shield.  The cynical worldview which enshrouds The Dark Knight series has no place in Captain America's universe.  Sure there's evil, and corruption, but Captain America's commitment to justice is not swayed by such annoyances.  I like how Cap's boy scout attitude is revered; the filmmakers don't shy away from portraying him as a true American hero.  It is a fine line to establish that allows supporting characters to point-out, and sometimes mock Cap's values, yet through his composure and integrity he retains the audience's admiration.  Fittingly those who derided Captain America either came full circle and were inspired by him, or they were revealed as villains.  Throw into the mix a healthy dose of criticism against the current President's reliance on drones and sweeping surveillance, and Captain America 2 is a thoroughly entertaining film.  Were there super heroes and special effects and explosions?  I think so, but I like Captain America because he was a hero before he got any super powers.

I thought it fitting to review Agents of Shield along with Captain America 2 because their plots intertwine.  Developments in the film directly impacted the very next episode of the television show (which was mid-season).  I don't think there's been such a tie-in before, and it's been fascinating to watch.

*Fascinating may have been too strong a word -- but it's more catchy than the word interesting.

God and Science

                I must have been 15 years old when I had my first clash with science.  My geology teacher explained in a matter-of-fact way that the Earth is millions of years old based on techniques which are used to age rock formations.  This timeline conflicted with my understanding; the Bible informs me that the Earth's age can be measured in thousands of years, not millions.

                Some friendly people from Northrop Grumman were recently on campus to discuss their latest joint venture with NASA, the James Webb Space Telescope.  According to one of the lead scientists working on the project, this design will allow us to see "further back in time" than any previous telescope.  She was referencing the hyper-sensitive infrared device which has been designed to capture even the faintest light.  Scientists hope to analyze this light, surmising that faint equates old light which has traveled the longest and furthest.  Since light travels in a straight line at a constant velocity (through the vacuum of space), scientists extrapolate age and distance based on specific properties of the measured light.  This technique utilizes the mathematical principle of interpolation, wherein a relatively narrow set of data is extended to explain a much broader set.  The well known radiocarbon dating method which has been used to age fossils and mineral deposits works the same way.   That method has taken 65 years of observation to age objects by a factor of millions.   Does that sound reasonable to you?

I feel that I have digressed; my intent is not to discredit any specific scientific method.  I believe that God said "let there be light", and there was light.  Scientists want a light source.  All light that has ever been observed has a source, so that means all light must have a source, right?  I believe that God didn't make the Sun until the fourth day; that's three whole days of light without a tangible source.  Am I crazy?  If God can create the Earth, then I'm satisfied that he could provide a light source for a few days in such a way that defies scientific understanding.

It takes over 8 minutes for light from the Sun to reach Earth.  It takes over 4 years for light from the next closest star to reach Earth.  The next closest galaxy is 3 million light years away.  I accept those statistics; I believe that energy, dissipated today in the form of light takes 3 million years to travel from the Andromeda Galaxy to Earth.  Yet this does not prove to me that it took 3 million years for Andromeda to become visible to Earth, or 8 minutes for light from the Sun to strike Earth the first time.  I am convinced that when God made the Sun, the leaves on the freshly formed trees benefited right away.

One of the most reassuring passages in scripture is in Matthew 6:26, "Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?"  When I look up at the stars, when I consider the vast expanse of space it makes me feel really, really small.  That God has shown me His mercy, that He cares for me means so much knowing how insignificant I am. 

If I don't accept that there was light before there was a Sun, then I would be free to disregard the rest of the Bible too.  If I cannot trust that God can keep His word intact, then how can I truly know anything about Him and what he expects of me?  My suggestion that a galaxy 3 million light years away can be visible to Earth, when both are merely thousands of years old is a stumbling block to many.  I truly wish this were not the case.  It saddens me to know that so many doubt God's sovereignty because science is such a persuasive form of peer pressure.  I find it helpful to remember that God is not asking us to take anything on faith that is untrue.  On the contrary, seeking God and seeking truth are synonymous.   What then are scientists searching for?

Academy Awards

Perhaps you've noticed a trend; my movie reviews have trickled to almost nothing.  There was a brief spurt of reviews which coincided with Christmas break, but now my attention is focused back on Newton's Second Law, linear independence, and Thévenin equivalent circuits.  Yet tonight the Academy Awards ceremony will be televised, and I'm looking forward to seeing who the winners are.  Mere minutes ago I finished watching the last of nine films nominated for Best Picture.  A few I already wrote about, so you know my opinion on American Hustle, Captain Phillips and Her already.  Instead of full-fledged reviews of the other six films, I'll simply comment briefly on each, and close with my pick for the best film this year.

Dallas Buyers Club was a sad film which reminded me of the hopeless condition so many of our fellow human beings find themselves in.  What is it that motivates a despicable, fallen man to commit acts of genuine kindness?

Gravity is a masterpiece for the senses.  Visually and aurally it didn't miss a beat.  Add to the experience a well acted performance by Sandra Bullock as a brave an ingenious woman; resulting in the most entertaining movie of the year.

Nebraska was quite boring and completely captivating at the same time.  Perhaps I couldn't believe that "this is it" the whole movie, so my anticipation for more kept me glued to the screen.

Philomena rose above its cliché storyline by allowing its two main characters to be themselves.  Judi Dench plays a woman of faith who should have lost her faith a long time ago by the world's perspective.  Steve Coogan willingly represents the world, ridiculing and questioning any who would believe God's Word.  That both characters can occupy the same film was amazing to me. * {I feel obliged to mention that there is a plot devolvement in this film which I found contradictory to my beliefs.  Obviously this is still a product of Hollywood and their ideas about sin are reflected therein}

Twelve Years A Slave is probably the most difficult of these nine films for me to review.  While it is a powerful film, its shortcomings and reliance on certain techniques leave me undecided.  My mind finds it difficult to accept that such widespread mistreatment of fellow human beings could occur as is depicted in this film.  Were plantation owners as depraved as Michael Fassbender's character is here?  I know the answer, and it disturbs me to acknowledge that where one sin has been effectively abolished, many more have taken its place.  To get back to my original train of thought; this film relies re-enacting the horrors of slavery to condemn it.  I suggest that making a film which condemns man's depravity today by drawing parallels to slavery would be a much greater achievement than what is represented in Twelve Years A Slave.  If we aren't learning anything from our past, what good is there dwelling on it?

The Wolf of Wall Street  {I actually had written a draft review for this film, so here it is}

Any movie that can make me question long-held beliefs must be doing something right.  If you listen to the leftists of the world (i.e. Al Gore) you would conclude that Capitalism is a pervasive evil that must be dismantled before it destroys us all.  On the other extreme we find Rush Limbaugh, who equates Capitalism with Godliness.  I would suggest that our country wouldn't be what it is today without Capitalism; the good and the bad.  Greedy, selfish Capitalists placed us in the unique position to save the world from Nazism and Japanese imperialism at the same time.  You might argue that it was our country's Godly foundation which led to a World War II victory.  Or you might point to the blessings of natural resources, or the motivating power of good vs. evil...  Sure, that's all true, but greedy, selfish Capitalists played an integral part. 

Now you're beginning to wonder, what has this to do with The Wolf of Wall Street?  Martin Scorsese has made a movie which should be both inspiring and totally offensive to any reasonable person.  There is no aristocracy in the United States, everyone has the opportunity to better him or her self.  Inherent with this freedom is the potential for devastating failure and degradation.  Scorsese has crafted an allegory; warning all viewers of the pitfalls associated with Capitalism.  In an early scene, Matthew McConaughey's character offers his advice on how to be a great stock broker.  He carefully plots a routine of drug and alcohol use to maximize his effectiveness; the ultimate goal is to make as much money as possible.  Health, kindness, peace, love, integrity,... none of these are even factors in his approach, only self-gratification and money.  The main character in the film, played by Leonardo DiCaprio takes this advice to heart, and the result is an empty life of excess.

I don't think that Scorsese is so hypocritical as to be criticizing success, or the competitive nature of Capitalism.  Rather, this film plays more as a warning to those who would naïvely assume that any system is run by "good" people.  We are the sheep.  The guys dominating on Wall Street are the wolves.  The most poignant moment in The Wolf of Wall Street comes during an explanation; making money for investors is unimportant to the broker, because making money for the broker is the only thing.  In a perfect world Capitalism would be wonderful; a flawless balance of supply and demand would bring peace and harmony.  In a perfect world Communism would be wonderful too... 

Where this film made me question my beliefs has to do with the infectious nature of evil.  I'd like to believe that greedy, selfish Capitalists helped win World War II, with no negative side effects.  I'd like to believe that greedy, selfish, white Capitalists settled this country (relocating and murdering along the way), with no lasting negative side effects.  I'd like to believe that greedy, selfish Capitalists can run our banks, corporations, churches, etc. with no negative side effects.  Scorsese is telling me to wake up.  That's all this film is, an exposé.  What should be done next?, well that is a really important question.

 

And the winner is…  While Gravity was the most entertaining (and the only movie I'd recommend watching), American Hustle was the best film I saw this year.  So there you have it.

Her

Is technology good or evil?
Is a hammer good or evil?

Considering that a hammer represents a technological advancement, I believe that these two questions are the same.  Cutting to the chase; I contend that technology cannot be evil, it depends completely on how man uses it.  Spike Jonze new film her strips away all the flash and glamour of technology, and focuses directly on one man's relationship with ones and zeros.   Joaquin Phoenix plays a lonely thirtysomething professional on the verge of divorce, who finds companionship with his new operating system.  While I imagine that many may find this concept far-fetched, let me suggest that Spike Jonze is addressing an issue which is far too real.  Our relationships with technology are stealing from our relationships with each other.  Yes, I recognize the irony as I type these words on a computer keyboard instead of saying them directly to you... 

Phoenix's character installs his new operating system in a way that is familiar to many of us; he waits patiently for the software to update and answers a few semi-personal questions along the way.  Then a friendly voice addresses him, striking-up a conversation.  He asks it the same questions I would have asked, and doesn't quite know how to process the answers.  It is a feminine voice that emits from the computer, so it's a her, right?  She expresses concern, interest, and even gets upset towards him.  Initially he knows that she's "just a program", but she's so well written that the illusion begins to take hold.  Before long he has fallen in love with her, and joy seems to have returned. 

I received a Japanese insulated coffee cup for my birthday just over a year ago.  This cup keeps my coffee hot all day, it's truly a technological marvel.  I know that if I were to loose it, I would truly miss it (please note that I haven't digressed to the point of calling my coffee cup "her" yet).  Where is the line?  I don't worship my coffee cup.  I'm not "in love" with my coffee cup, but I certainly hold it in high esteem. 

Is it alright to talk to Siri disrespectfully just because she is  synthetic?  Is it alright to be polite to Siri even though she's synthetic?  These are the kinds of questions which her has prompted me to ask.

I don't think that Spike Jonze set out to criticize society for utilizing technology, rather he is nudging us to examine how we use it.  I am pretty sure that Jonze and I would disagree on why this is important.  I believe that we should be looking to God; through the Bible and those who have been given wisdom, to guide our relationships.  Not to get overly semantical, but we have relationships with just about everything around us, from a hammer to a wife and everything in-between.   Obviously, if we want to get the relationships right, we're going to need a lot of help.

Inside Llewyn Davis

Inside Llewyn Davis is a genius masterpiece or a mediocre fanboy biopic; which one, only the Coen brothers will ever know.  What I like about this paradox, is that I will be able to convincingly argue either perspective depending on who I'm talking to.  Let me offer the basic premise for either argument:  Inside Llewyn Davis is a genius masterpiece because Ethan and Joel Coen were able to produce a film for hipsters, starring hipsters, about hipsters, that hipsters really, really like; yet the whole thing is an indictment of the hipster.  The counter-argument, the one that suggests that the Coens made a mediocre fanboy biopic is exactly the same as the other argument, only it leaves off "indictment".  I hope that the former is true, that'll be my explanation for liking it at least.  Obviously, based on the Coen brothers track record it is very likely that they meant this as a biting criticism, but it works the other way too, making a conclusive answer impossible.

What's inside Llewyn Davis?  Very little really; he's whiny, self-absorbed, and kind of a douche.  He has disdain for others who share his profession but aren't as good as he views himself.  I wouldn't be surprised to find that many talented artists have similar attitudes.  This wouldn't be so bad except that we must spend the entire film with Davis.  If we could just listen to his music and then go on our merry way, all would be right with the world.  His music is great, for the same reasons Bob Dylan's music is great.  Yet the moment we recognize that our emotions are being played just like his guitar, we should turn our backs on the whole farce.  In an aside, A few years back I noted that the horrible movie Troy should be remembered only for its multitude of "funeral pyre" scenes.  I think approximately 10% of screen time was devoted to this pastime.  Inside Llewyn Davis likewise must set some record for "sleeping on couches", Davis becomes an expert in the field. 

If you tell me that you really liked Inside Llewyn Davis please be prepared to explain yourself.  You can't be cool unless you like it for the right reason…

American Hustle and Silver Linings Playbook

I went to see American Hustle a few weeks back, which reminded me that I liked The Fighter (both directed by David O. Russell) thereby prompting me to rent Silver Linings Playbook (also a Russell film)...  As you will soon discover, it seems as though I saved the best for last.

American Hustle falls squarely into the "Con Man Movie" category; or perhaps it is a definitive example.  A few other films immediately come to mind; Ocean's Twelve, Heist and to some extent The Prestige.  These are all films which center around really smart people trying to trick other really smart people.  Russell doesn't reinvent the wheel, he recognizes that a story about smart people is far more captivating than some convoluted plot.  Most likely the conclusion won't surprise you, but perhaps how it's received by certain characters will.  It would be convenient to note how drastically different Christian Bale's character is here in American Hustle from the last movie I wrote about, Out of the Furnace.  Unfortunately it isn't that simple; while both characters could be contrasted based on social status, employment, style, etc., they both share certain qualities.  One of the best moments in this film comes when Bale's character is given a gift; while he accepts the item graciously, he is ill-equipped for this moment.  He is such a disingenuous person, that it stuns him when someone wants to be his friend, and give out of kindness.  While the supporting cast here is excellent; Bradley Cooper, Jennifer Lawrence, Amy Adams, and Jeremy Renner et al., this is definitely Bale's movie.  It is fascinating to see his character's relationship to each personality he comes into contact with.  While "Best Actor" awards often go to bigger-than-life performances, I think that Bale deserves one here for his subtle nuances.

Silver Linings Playbook is like another great comedy As Good As It Gets, in that it is about someone who has a mental illness, yet not about the illness itself.  This is a wise approach, because it makes the story accessible to a wider audience; just because I don't have this specific condition doesn't mean I don't have issues of my own.  While some viewing this film inevitably will be bi-polar like the main character, it's safe to say that everyone watching will have struggled with feelings of inadequacy.  If you're not seeing your weaknesses reflected in certain film characters, and being challenged, then I'm really not sure why you keep watching.  There are much more efficient forms of entertainment that require absolutely no introspection (i.e. television).  What I said previously explains why Silver Linings Playbook is a great film; what makes it a great movie comes from how enjoyable to viewing experience was.  There are three primary characters, led by Bradley Cooper, with Jennifer Lawrence and Robert De Niro.  All three of these characters have their own mental illness, and each has developed their own approach to coping.  Instead of being a dreary slog through daily routines of the mentally ill, this film is a joyous celebration of people, who just so happen to be ill.  While there are dark moments, while there is tragedy, the overall atmosphere is bright.  I would hate to ruin the film for any who have yet to see it, so I will delicately say only the following:  About ten minutes before the film ended I knew exactly which two outcomes were possible (there are only two) and I was concerned that it would go down a sad path.  That I really had no idea which of the two routes would be chosen only made the film that much better.

Out of the Furnace

Out of the Furnace falls into the category of "what would I do if I were in the same situation?"  When done well, this kind of movie is really thought provoking, and this film is successful.  I believe that The Road from a few years back tried to join this category, and even Zombieland would meet the requirements.  Out of the Furnace works because its characters are grounded in reality, and they face each situation accordingly.  The main question that this film asks of us, is how far would we be willing to go for a loved one?  Yet there is an added bonus question; which deals with the line between self-defense and revenge.  Both Christian Bale and Casey Affleck play their respective roles just right.  Bale is especially great in his ability to wrap quietness, honor, and intensity into one believable man.  Then there's Woody Harrelson's evil backwoods antagonist, who is anything but conventional.  What I mean, is that rarely do we see a villain who isn't explained in some basic manner; here we are forced to accept that he is both extremely evil and simply a man.  Because Out of the Furnace is about some dark questions which may lead us to uncomfortable places, it stands out as an interesting and poignant film.

The Hobbit Part II

Would it seem like I'm avoiding writing a review about "The Hobbit Part II" if all I were to say is;

It's worth the cost of admission to see Smaug on the big screen. ?

Catching Fire

Maybe I've said this before about another movie, but it bears repeating:  A good story can be like a good piece of classical music; there are certain inevitabilities, a natural progression, yet it's still an enjoyable experience.  "Catching Fire" picks up where "The Hunger Games" left off, finding Katniss struggling to deal with the consequences of her decisions.  We know that she's not going to run away and live in the woods, we know she can't die (not yet at least), and we are positive that she'll never turn to the dark side.  Where the first film introduced us to a heroine, who was defined by her actions, this second chapter is about her realizing the weight of responsibility which has been placed upon her.  I think the filmmakers could easily have ruined these movies by focusing too heavily on the Hunger Games sequences which exist in each film.  Fortunately they understood that the Games are simply meant to highlight strengths and weaknesses of certain characters.  The film is enjoyable to watch because everyone does what they're supposed to do, right when they should. 

The Counselor and The Rainmaker

Alright, so I misled you with the title, this is really only a review of "The Rainmaker" with a peppering of commentary regarding "The Counselor".  One of these movies is inspiring and thought provoking, while the other is simply depressing without a ray of hope.  I would suggest that both films accomplish exactly what they set out to do, and that is a compliment to their respective cast and directors.  Yet after seeing "The Counselor", I had an intense desire to see a good movie with some redeeming values, so I watched "The Rainmaker" again; and I thought it would be good to share that film with you.

Francis Ford Coppola directed this adaptation of a John Grisham novel, in which a fresh out of law school lawyer takes on a huge insurance company.  Had I not included the first three words of the previous sentence, this movie would have inevitably succumbed to cheap clichés and sleep inducing courtroom scenes.  Grisham's other filmed works all have more action and intrigue than this story contains, yet Coppola understands how to captivate an audience; never do we feel that what's missing here is a scene of Tom Cruise running...  My math teacher told us the other day that "a pessimist is simply a well informed optimist".  I'm not sure how that fits into the context of this review, except to say that the young lawyer in this film (played by Matt Damon) began his pursuit of law with eyes open.  He makes statements throughout the movie acknowledging that lawyers aren't supposed to get personally invested in their clients... "but there's all kinds of lawyers" he notes.  I would ask two questions about Damon's young lawyer:  Is he successful because he cares about his client?  Is he able to overcome seemingly insurmountable odds because he is passionate?  In the cliché ridden movie directed by anyone other than Coppola the answer would instantly be "yes" to both questions.  What I like about "The Rainmaker" is that I came to the conclusion as to which characters I would despise, and which ones I would admire all on my own (or at least Coppola let me feel that way).  As "The Counselor" comes to a close, if you find yourself admiring any of the characters (living or dead), then I'm afraid you weren't paying attention.  In "The Rainmaker" you'll get at least five, and as far as Hollywood goes, that's as uplifting a film as you'll ever get.

Captain Phillips

After making his mark directing the second two Jason Bourne movies, Paul Greengrass has taken on some interesting projects.  "United 93" was about the heroes aboard the plane that ultimately went down in a Pennsylvania field on September 11th.  "Green Zone" starred Matt Damon as an agent in the Middle East looking for weapons that may or may not exist.  And now comes "Captain Phillips", a modern day pirate story in which "pirate" is simply a technical term.  Greengrass is just as interested with the men who turn to piracy, as he is with their victims.  The opening dialogue between Captain Phillips (played by Tom Hanks) and his wife foreshadows the bloody conclusion:  Phillips is worried about their children as they come into adulthood, noting the declining opportunity in his specific line of work.  The next scene takes place in an impoverished Somali fishing village, where piracy seems to exist out of necessity.  For the rest of the film Greengrass gives much screen time to the leader of a small band of pirates named Muse (played by Barkhad Abdi ), making special note of his intelligence, sense of humor, and drive.  Phillips' character is naturally more refined where these qualities are concerned, but he realizes that Muse's desperation is what ultimately trumps all else.  It is to Tom Hank's credit that there are no real surprises in his performance.  From the conscientious captain in the early scenes, to the powerful final moments in which basic human emotions overwhelm him, Hank's portrayal of Phillips feels spot-on.  What causes this film to stand out is Barkhad Abdi's role as the untraditional antagonist.  I was rooting for him in certain situations, felt compassion at other times, and in the end honestly feel that his punishment is too severe.  There aren't any cheap shortcuts taken, we don't see any starving Somalis or even know whether these men have families back home.  Greengrass allows Phillips (and in turn, the audience) to become sympathetic towards the pirates, not because he believes that they're right, but because they are men like him.

Monsters University

"Monsters University" lacks a certain element which made "Monsters Inc." great; Boo.  While Boo was not the primary focus of the first film in this series, she was the glue that held everything together.  The genius of "Monsters Inc." was in its creative approach towards the audience.  To sympathize with monsters who scare children for a living, the monsters must have a comparable fear of children.  I can imagine the original pitch for "Monster's Inc." was a difficult sell, there were so many ways that this movie could go wrong.  Yet the team at Pixar was able to successfully walk the narrow line between scaring children, and not taking them seriously.  A pivotal scene was the moment in which Sulley shows off his ability to scare, and unintentionally frightens Boo.  The look on his face, followed by his attempts to reassure her (he is persistent) was masterfully executed; the scene did not need to be disturbing to children viewers, yet they could understand why Boo was scared.  And the icing on the cake in "Monsters Inc." was the beautifully coordinated door warehouse sequence.  When something so intricate can be visually represented smoothly and clearly, that is something special.

"Monsters University" does not have a character to fill Boo's shoes.  Yet it still contains the humor and creativity which filled the first film.  I think this movie may actually have been funnier (Ashley told me afterwards that I had been laughing a lot).  I especially liked Don, a monster returning to school after years as a salesman...  I think his situation was somewhat identifiable to me.  As I look back on this review, I realize that the bulk was devoted to "Monsters Inc."  I didn't mean for that to happen; it's not my fault that it was the better movie.

The Wolverine

So they let the guy who directed "Walk the Line", "Girl Interrupted", and "Cop Land" make a comic book movie.  James Mangold has proven his worth as a storyteller, and definitely understands the importance of strong, well developed characters.  The question is whether this quality translates into a good comic book movie?  That question leads to another; why are movies still segregated into their source genres?  It seems ridiculous that audiences (and by audiences I mean me) would accept sub-par stories, acting, realism, etc. all because "it was a cool comic book".  Likewise, I have concluded that it is irrational to demand faithful adaptations when movies are inspired by comic books, or novels, or real life events, or anything*.  If you really care how Wolverine or Charles Darnay behaves as originally envisioned, read the book.  The process of filmmaking is an artform in and of itself, which depends on a different approach and execution than writing (or drawing).  I have decided to accept this principle whenever* I watch a film, critiquing the work presented, independent of its source material. 

By this rationale, I can easily say that "The Wolverine" has the elements of a great film, but is seriously burdened by its comic book roots.  At its core, this movie is about loss, with an interesting twist; sometimes those things which seem undesirable are what will be missed the most.  There is a great story, and intriguing characters spread throughout this movie, but they are so often interrupted by sequences which only a comic book fanboy could appreciate.  Perhaps there is a fanboy out there somewhere blogging about how annoying the moments of contemplation and internal struggle were…  I think that Christopher Nolan was able to translate the essence of the Batman mythology in his Dark Knight Trilogy.  Bryan Singer understood what made mutants important when he directed the first X-Men movie.  On the other side of that coin, overwhelmingly, comic book adaptations have missed the point entirely; simply being moving picture versions of books, which already contained all the motion necessary.  Mongold's Wolverine movie contains the ingredients which elevate it above the rabble, unfortunately it also tries to be everything for everybody; which will never work**.

 

*I wouldn't apply this rule to Biblical accounts, or Tom Clancy novels.

**Unless directed by James Cameron apparently.

Elysium

Neill Blomkamp's previous film "District 9" surprised me with its focus on transformation.  Humphrey Bogart perfected the hard-case to nice-guy film persona in films like "To Have and Have Not", "Key Largo" and of course "Casablanca".  Neill Blomkamp took the concept to extreme in "District 9"; his main character, played by Sharlto Copley, goes through a drastic metamorphosis, in more ways than one.  While "District 9" was an exceptional science fiction movie, with groundbreaking special effect integration, ultimately what set the film apart is its focus on character.  "Elysium" represents a step forward in the effects category, yet unfortunately centers around a weak story and one-dimensional characters.    The premise is simple; Earth of the future is overpopulated and trashed, so the rich elite have built themselves a space station (called Elysium) within view of Earth, to live luxuriously and carefree.  I think Blomkamp must have been striving for allegory with many details in this film, but the execution falls short resulting in laughable excess.  For example, building Elysium so close to Earth might make sense from an economic point of view; during construction this would have been handy.  But upon viewing the film, it seems more or less that the rich are just trying to stick-it to the rest of us by building something so shiny and wonderful just out of reach.  Rich people are so mean. 

 

While the film never rises to the level of greatness seen in "District 9", its special effects and action sequences distract us enough that we may not even notice.  This time Copley plays the villain, and it's been a while since a villain has deserved death more.  Where movies like "Iron Man" fail, is the moment the mask comes on, and the real is replaced by cartoon.  Here, man fights man (albeit supped-up bionic men), so even though special effects are everywhere, there is an ever looming sense of danger.  Ultimately, I find myself comparing this movie to the recent Tom Cruise movie "Oblivion".  While both were basically "Fern Gully" for grown-ups, "Oblivion" did a better job of hiding it.  

World War Z

In "World War Z" I found a movie that surpassed my expectations.  Much credit must be given to the bad press and weak trailers which caused me to enter the theater with little hope.  Since zombies are such uninteresting beings, it is vitally important that a zombie movie must focus on interesting alive characters, which is where Brad Pitt comes in.  He plays a convincing husband and father, and is confident in his job (whatever that might be).  He knows that the best way to protect those he loves, is to leave them in an attempt to solve the zombie situation.  So many other movies in this genre separate the main characters for basic Scooby-Doo reasons; splitting-up guarantees greater tension.  "World War Z" doesn't go for those cheap, overused plot devices, rather the characters more or less act as real people might when confronted with similar situations.  Another strength of this film is the pacing, the filmmakers wisely follow Pitt's character and keep him constantly on the move.  This keeps us the audience from asking too many questions, basically inaction equals death.  You can't worry about the plausibility of zombies when they're about to bite you...  The quick pacing is explained primarily through a detective story, in which Pitt's character must discover the origin of the zombie infection.  This investigation takes him to Korea, Israel, to Wales.

...So it's been about two weeks since I wrote the first paragraph.  Since then I have had time to think-on, and conversations about "World War Z".  What elevates this movie above the rabble is that it has the potential to stimulate conversation.  Eric was over for Independence Day, and we had a lengthy discussion about morality within the context of surviving apocalyptic scenarios.  A customer at the liquor store commented on the effectiveness of the film within the confines of a PG-13 rating.  Rob and I learned of the original final act shot for the film, and agree that while it would make for a completely different movie, it would be cool to see one day.  Good movies entertain you for the 120± minutes that you're sitting in the theater.  Great movies extend well beyond the initial experience and effect your life in unexpected ways.  Of course horrible movies can closely resemble great movies by this rationale, but I'm leaning towards categorizing "World War Z" as one of the great ones.

Now You See Me and After Earth

"Now You See Me" had a masterfully crafted trailer.  It promised a dazzling tale of four illusionists who use stagemanship and misdirection to perpetrate elaborate heists; giving the stolen money to cheering audiences.  The movie expands upon this basic premise; the main characters are motivated by a desire to join a mysterious illusionists guild.  They are given Robin Hood missions by a mysterious fifth character, who has promised them entrance to the guild if the can transfer wealth from greedy insurance companies to helpless victims of tragedy.  What motivates the mystery character is meant as a surprise twist, but it seems pretty obvious early in the story.  As promised by the trailer there is plenty of spectacle here; grand illusions, creative props, and impressive slight of hand.  While the movie was entertaining, it fell short of high marks set by other recent films.  The two films which should be used as comparison are "The Prestige" and "Ocean's Eleven".  The latter is a great heist film, which joins together an ensemble cast; each member lending different strengths necessary to pull-off the heist.  The intricacy of the plot, which is so meticulously orchestrated, is a joy to watch, and the conclusion is satisfying.  "The Prestige" is about men who are truly devoted to the craft of illusion.  When watching this film we are part of an audience, susceptible to the effects of misdirection.  Here the twists and surprises are amazingly effective, because they have been earned.  "Now You See Me" fails to impress.  The tricks are to easily explained, and the final explanation is too simple, kind of like the ending of a Murder She Wrote episode (not that there's anything wrong with that).  This was a fun movie while it lasted, but lacks the substance to make it stand out.

"After Earth" fits right in line with M. Night Shyamalan's other wonderful stories (ignoring "The Last Airbender") where character, story, and style all work in concert beautifully.   This is a relatively basic story, which could be explained in two or three sentences, yet is brought to life by great acting and skilled filmmaking.  As with other Shyamalan stories, the setting and action is simply a backdrop for a deeper, dynamic message.  Lesser directors would have made this same story into an environmental cautionary tale, which is so cliché.  Shyamalan saw through that, to the heart of the story, which is about a father and a son, ultimately focusing on a boy becoming a man.  You may wonder how I could be so harsh on "Man of Steel" while seemingly overlooking much of the same in "After Earth".  This is definitely an effects-heavy, big budget movie, yet the special effects never overshadow the people.  How many times did Superman get hit over the head by a bus, tank, helicopter, building, etc.?  I lost interest pretty quickly.  Here one of the characters is bitten by a leech, and it was truly a moment of concern.  I wanted the characters to survive, and more importantly I wanted them to grow closer together.  Shyamalan is one of the most unique storytellers working today, and I was happy to experience this story after a line of recent disappointments at the movie theater.

Star Trek: Into Darkness, Fast & Furious 6, and Man of Steel

Perhaps this is a horrible reason to see a movie; but sometimes I see a movie simply because it's there.  The 2009 J.J. Abrams Star Trek re-boot was extremely entertaining.  The Blu-Ray contains my go-to sequence for showcasing the sound system I have at home.  The time travel and Spock thread was an excellent tie-in to the original series.  I liked the music, the effects, the casting, and even the humor.  I was looking forward to its sequel "Star Trek: Into Darkness" without being overly optimistic that it could deliver the same impact.  In short, I was right.  Please allow me to indulge in an some alternate universe hypothetical reasoning for a few moments:  If I had decided not to see this movie, to avoid disappointment, most likely I would be wondering what I missed.  While I know now that the answer is "nothing much", I couldn't truly know that without experiencing it for myself.  As the great science fiction author Tennyson wrote; "it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all"...  How could he have been so sure? 

There's so many movies in the "Fast and Furious" series now that it can be somewhat difficult to differentiate one from an other.  I definitely approach these movies as mindless, popcorn entertainment.  Each movie has simply been a vehicle for showcasing fast cars and the subculture who love them.  There have been character developments throughout the series, and "Fast and Furious 6", the newest installment brings closure to the most tragic of prior incidents and continues the fast cars and outrageous stunts tradition.  I was considering asking the question; 'are the stunts too over the top?'  But then I realized that once you've gone over the top, either the damage has been done, or it wasn't really the top after all.  The final action sequence takes place at an airport; a dozen or so cars and a huge transport jet careen down a runway while people fight in the jet, on top of cars, with cars, from car to car, etc.  The sequence happens approximately in real-time and takes well over ten minutes.  At about the five minute point I realized that no turns had been made, and the jet had been trying to take-off for a while.  Now take-off speed for a jet that size is probably around 150 mph, but let's make it easy and call it 120 mph, which means that everyone in this rabble is going 2 miles every minute.  The longest civilian runways are just over 3 miles long, which definitely wouldn't work.  At 120 mph, they would have needed a 20 mile long runway to reach the ten minute mark required by the action.  Oh, did I mention that as the plane finally crashes and the cars screech to a halt, we see 20 yards away, big bright red and white signs announcing "End of Runway".  Maybe there is such a thing as "too over the top".  But it was still a lot of fun while it lasted.

I had hoped to devote an individual posting to "Man of Steel", but I am sorry to say it doesn't deserve one.  Had the director Zack Snyder and writer David S. Goyer focused their attention on what makes Superman an interesting character, then this movie may have been amazing.  Instead they simply tease the audience with the movie that could have been, and subject us to mindless, incoherent, (physics-defying), computer animation; passed-off as action.  Superman has two dads, each of which are significantly more compelling characters than Superman.  The bravery and self-sacrifice demonstrated by Superman's natural father is the focus of the first sequence in "Man of Steel".  Although the setting matches that of Richard Donner's 1978 "Superman", things are noticeably different.  Immediately it becomes apparent that fighting, action, and explosions will be taking much of the spotlight.  Even so, Russell Crowe as Superman's father is a solid presence, convincing as a man desperate to save his people and his son.  Once Superman reaches Earth, he is adopted by a human played by Kevin Costner.  Costner gets the most interesting, and difficult role in the film as a father who struggles to protect his son and prepare him for an unbearable burden.  Goyer and Snyder get this, and the bits and pieces of a great film are sprinkled throughout.  Costner admonishes his son to exercise self-control, and consider the impact that his mere existence will have on mankind.  Alas, there are too many other characters, set-pieces, space ships, choreographed action sequences, etc. to keep track of, and Superman's adoptive father gets lost in the crowd.  I could continue; discussing the merits/failures of non-chronological storytelling, parallels to "The Matrix", lack of Lex Luthor, why the Smallville inclusion and aversion to using term "Superman" were distracting, but I think I've said enough already.