Reel Thoughts

Under discussion:

Film Name  Production Year

Star Trek  (2009)

A week ago, I was enjoying a short vacation and excursion to the Windy City to visit some friends I had not seen in a bit and to enjoy a bit of shopping and high-priced dining.  The trouble is that the Windy City was largely the Hot City, and so I was less apt to do outdoors and touristy activities than I was to find indoor places to play.  I've been to Chicago too many times to be a bona fide tourist anymore anyway, as opposed to an idle visitor, so I did not feel like I was missing anything.

I digress.  So, last Friday, when it was both hot and stormy, my friend and I decided to catch a film at the multiplex off Michigan Avenue and to take in some downtown type food afterward.  We elected to see Star Trek, as neither of us had seen it, we are both modest trekkers (at least from past precedent), and none of our other friends would be likely to want to see it with us.

I must admit, I was a bit skeptical.  Even though the film was directed by one of my personal heroes, JJ Abrams, and even though the film was, essentially, a prequel, focusing on younger versions of everyone's favorite James T. Kirk, Mr. Spock, Dr. "Bones" McCoy, and so on, I am always a bit leery of franchise reboots because they can be so hit and miss.  For example, Batman under Christopher Nolan: hit.  Star Wars prequelization: miss.

This year's Star Trek, however, actually becomes quite the different animal compared to its predecessors, featuring one of the cleverest uses of a traditional science fiction plot device I have ever seen.  The film opens as a Romulan vessel encounters a Federation starship.  The Romulans - who are tattooed and, in some ways, far more menacing than earlier televised incarnations - are captained by Nero (Eric Bana).  He questions the Federation captain about the star date and then about the whereabouts of someone named Spock, but when the Federation captain, who agrees to board the Romulan vessel with the hopes of peaceful negotations, cannot provide the answers, Nero murders him in cold blood and launches an unadulterated attack against the other ship.  The damage is severe, and First Officer turned captain George Kirk, who assumes command after his captain's demise, orders evacuation, including of his pregnant wife, before committing an act of heroism that fans know is not in the annals of Star Trek history.  The film then careens toward the future, as we see young James Tiberius Kirk in Iowa driving his stepfather's automobile at breakneck speeds to the rousing sounds of the Beastie Boys' "Sabotage" until he manages to drive it over a cliff.  Then, years later, he (now played by Chris Pine) gets into a bar brawl with recruits from the nearby Starfleet Academy outpost.  When their recruiting officer, Captain Pike, who served aboard the ill-fated vessel with his father, challenges Kirk to abandon his rebellious streak and apparent daddy issues and join Starfleet, Kirk initially scoffs at the idea, but, later, seemingly to prove himself, he agrees to become a cadet.  At the Academy, he flirts with a young and pretty Uhura (Zoe Saldana) who wants nothing to do with him; meets a flight-phobic young medic by the name of Dr. Leonard McCoy (Karl Urban); and a stuffy Vulcan teaching assistant named Spock (Zachary Quinto - Sylar!), with whom, at first, Kirk seems to get along like oil and water after he famously "works around" the confines of the Kobiyashi Maru psychological test (see Star Trek mythology, or this film, for further details).  Of course, we learn of Spock's particular idiom as well - his half human, half Vulcan heritage and his struggle to keep his emotions in check while honoring the traditions of his father Sarek and his home planet.  After Kirk is brought before an Academy tribunal to be called to task for "cheating" through the Kobiyashi Maru, the Academy learns of an attack on a nearby Federation planet.  The cadets, as the closest available section of the fleet, are called aboard the newly minted Enterprise to answer the distress call, and Kirk manages to cheat his way aboard thanks to the help of his friend Bones.  Noticing the pattern of the attack, Kirk remembers the story of the Romulan vessel that attacked his father's ship and tries to warn Captain Pike of the impending trap.  Too late, however, does Pike realize that history is repeating, particularly when Nero's ship ensnares the Enterprise, and he demands that Pike board his vessel.  Making Spock acting captain and Kirk acting first officer (much to each other's protest) in his wake, Pike agrees to go, leaving the cadets in charge of the likes of a young Pavel Chekov (Anton Yelchin) and a young Ikara Sulu (John Cho - Harold!).  Through chance events that result from Kirk and Spock's inability to agree, Kirk eventually learns why Nero indiscriminately attacks Federation starships and embraces the road toward his destiny of becoming the youngest Starfleet captain in Federation history.

That was a lot of plot summary but, in some ways, this is the densest Star Trek plot of any of the previous motion pictures, and it barely touches half of the overall story.  Star Trek had the potential of being either really good because it was so new and directed by JJ Abrams, who has the golden touch, or of being really bad because it was a complete reboot of a beloved franchise grounded in complex and complicated mythology that cannot readily be tampered with without the risk of alienating its longtime fans. Fortunately, this Star Trek is the former type of reinvention.

Abrams struck an almost impossible but highly impressive balance: he remained true to the mythology while allowing just enough tweaking to make it new and fresh.  Thanks to the screenwriters, not only does this Star Trek film boast one of the best-written Star Trek stories, providing a riproaring tale that never really dragged (even when Spock Prime, played by the reverent Leonard Nimoy, had to take time out for some plot exposition), it is one of the cleverest revamps I have ever seen.  Using time travel and some other interesting Star Trek/science fiction devices, Abrams and company slyly created enough fuel for sequelization without erasing the possibility of ignoring the reboot should another reboot come along in the future.  I can't give too much away without spoiling the plot, but the changes were welcome and oddly exciting, even though they were significant changes in the end that longtime fans will either embrace or shun.

The visual effects were stunning, and the cinematography was actually quite breathtaking, mixing camera angles, brighter lighting, and bluescreen technology to great effect.  Also, the performances by this new version of the Enterprise crew were actually quite entertaining.  There were no strict imitations; instead, each actor chose to fully inhabit the characters rather than pay homage to their predecessors.  Thus, Pine neglected William Shatner's melodramatic delivery, but its absence was never noticed.  Quinto, though it was hard not to think of Sylar at times, managed to infuse Spock with a delicate balance of barely controlled emotional undercurrent (particularly rage) that Nimoy never offered, except in extreme situations.  Urban's Bones was hyper and funny, though his delivery of "I'm a doctor, not a ..." left something to be desired.  Simon Pegg, as a late-arriving, young Montgomery Scott, was easily my favorite of the new crew, but I wouldn't be able to do justice to just how hilarious his Scotty turned out to be.  The only portrayal I struggled with was Uhura's; on the one hand, Uhura was frequently reduced to a two-dimensional character as the only female of the original Enterprise crew.  Though Gene Roddenberry worked hard to portray the diversity of the globe and his hopes for future racial and ethnic harmony, there was still a gender-bias of sorts underlying the Original series cast, likely due to the fact that it was a product of the sixties, during which women's liberation movements were really starting to gain momentum.  This incarnation attempted to give Uhura some complexity, to make her a three-dimensional woman, which was good.  The problem is, three dimensions also transformed her from the sweet and loyal communications officer played by Nichelle Nichols to something of an ambitious (five letter word) as portrayed by Saldana.  My struggle, therefore, is understanding why a strong woman with an irrepressible character cannot retain the sweetness inherent in the original portrayal, since I never felt such sweetness in the Uhura I saw in this film. and whether she was written, directed, or played that way is hard to ascertain.  Of course, this is one of the larger philosophical dilemmas facing women in motion pictures today.

Also, while Bana was given relatively little to do as the menacing Captain Nero, what he was given to do he performed with a complete lack of originality.  More than once, I felt as though he were channeling Ricardo Montalban's Khan from Star Trek II.  If an actor playing a new antagonist adopts some character traits of characters from prior films while manifesting an entirely new character, the most obvious choices should be left alone.  Of all of the nemeses that have threatened Kirk or even Picard in the motion pictures over the years, Khan is the most obvious choice, and it was distracting, distasteful, and a little annoying that Bana found his inspiration in this character.  Of course, with the way the film ended, Kirk may never meet Khan in the likely sequels, so maybe this a minor point in the end.

Still, the most impressive part about Star Trek was that it was funny and exciting and new while remaining true to, at least, foundations provided by the mythology.  The ensemble of actors had a great chemistry, and the story possibilities are endless should this cast be migrated to television thanks to the foresight and creativity of the screenwriters and Abrams.  In short, the film surpassed my expectations and is actually one of the most enjoyable Star Trek film chapters, in my opinion.  What is even funnier is that it is an odd-numbered entry into the film series.  Interesting, yes?

In the end, I loved Star Trek.  Of course, JJ Abrams can do no wrong in my eyes (I have followed and am following all of his projects, except Felicity, since his breakthrough into Hollywood), but he risked much with this film.  It was a calculated risk that paid off in the end, however.  I think Star Trek deserves an 8.5 between having minor flaws/very good (thanks to Bana's largely mediocre performance) and being perfectly entertaining.  I also think it passes the test!  I am in the process of collecting the Star Trek films, but I would love to watch this one a few times more too, just because it was so surprisingly exciting and funny.  With this film, Star Trek has voyaged into new, uncharted regions of its own space-time continuum, and, frankly, I am happily along for the ride.  Warp speed ahead!

Under discussion:

Film Name  Production Year

Kinsey  (2004)

What's an Oscar Flashback (tm)?  Read here:

Next on my Netflix queue was Kinsey, for which Laura Linney was nominated for the Best Supporting Actress Oscar (film year, 2004; awarding year, 2005).  The other nominees for Best Supporting Actress in this category were:

The Aviator - Cate Blanchett (Winner)

Closer - Natalie Portman

Hotel Rwanda - Sophie Okonedo

Sideways - Virginia Madsen

This movie also represents the fourth of five LGBT-themed Oscar movies at the top of my Netflix queue (thanks to my stream of consciousness queuing).  Just in case you were keeping track.

It's been at least a week since I've seen this film, but for some reason (well, for good reason), I remember it distinctly.  After all, it's a movie about sex!  Well, it's actually a movie about Alfred Kinsey, the first and most renowned scientific researcher of sex and sexuality in humans, but since the topic is what it is, there was quite a bit of talk about sex without, you know, venturing into pornographic territory.  It's hard to forget a film like that.

Kinsey is, naturally, a biopic.  Liam Neeson plays the title character and real-life scientist, and the film follows Kinsey from childhood with his strict, religious, and authoritarian father (John Lithgow), who wanted him to become an engineer and was sorely disappointed when Al chose insects and entomology, to his death.  His primary research centered on the study of a specific genus of wasp, and he was very gifted, attracting the attention of equally gifted student Clara (Linney).  His scientific attentions began to shift to the behavior patterns of human sexuality, partially borne out of his and Clara's own awkward courtship and ensuing difficulty in engaging in post-wedding sexual intercourse.  His interest led him to postulate that most "evidence" of such behavior patterns was rooted in conjecture rather than research and documentation, and so, he devised a plan to poll research subjects and write a definitive treatise on the subject.  Beginning with a "marriage" course at Indiana University, where sex was discussed openly, Kinsey began a series of frank interviews with persons of all types, aided by research assistants played by Chris O'Donnell, Peter Sarsgaard, and Timothy Hutton.  He also devised the now renowned Kinsey scale of sexuality and eventually published Sexual Behavior in the Human Male, which was greeted with controversy, since it revealed that male sexual experiences were wider and more varied than expected, including practices contemporarily considered dangerous or perverted in the 40s, such as pre-marital sex and masturbation.  When Kinsey attempted to publish a book with a female equivalent, his work was met with greater opposition.  In the meantime, his own home life was complicated by his often frank and uncompromised discussion of sex and sexualtiy, his bisexual relationship with his assistant (Saarsgard), and his often dangerous yen to experiment sexually.

Kinsey was a fascinating film in many ways.  Written and directed by Bill Condon, who has many film credits to his name (including Gods and Monsters as director and Chicago as screenwriter), the film is a fairly comprehensive discussion of Kinsey and his work.  Unfortunately, because his work was so complicated and so controversial, two hours of film did not leave enough room to fully flush out dynamics that were briefly touched upon but never given full treatment or resolution and that, frequently, detracted from the film's focus.

For example, the film did well to portray some of the difficulties Kinsey and wife Clara had navigating open sexual waters, but, while Laura Linney was given scenes in which to display some of her sincerest emotional reactions, oftentimes, the end result of their troubles was never shown or was complicated by other complications in their lives that were never completely flushed out.  There was also narrative time devoted to the struggles Kinsey's assistants had with open sexuality, particularly as they themselves aimed to commit to stable, heterosexual relationships, but these detours often seemed scattered.  In many ways, there was too much going on all at once to make heads or tails of what the focus of the film ought to be, even as the focus should clearly have been Kinsey's life in the wake of his chosen life's work.

That's not to say that the film itself wasn't a decent exploration of Kinsey and a decent biopic in and of itself.  When the focus was more streamlined to connect Kinsey's work to the public response (including a subtly hilarious turn by Tim Curry as a university colleague opposed to Kinsey's teachings), the film was at its strongest.  When the film juxtaposed Kinsey's arguably courageous choice of study against his austere father's traditionalist tendencies, the film was at its strongest.  The film seemed to lose itself otherwise in the quagmire of emotions connected to everyone associated with Kinsey, which were all valid points of context for Kinsey's work and should have been included, even as their cohesion eroded throughout the film.  His family was a logical focal nucleus, but even his children's struggles to cope with having such an unusual father were given only a scene's worth of treatment without re-addressing them later in the film.

Is this broad exploration into Kinsey's associates and relations a flaw in the film, since the subject of Kinsey's work was such a broad and emotional topic that eventually, in some ways, spiralled out of control for the man who would pioneer these studies?  Yes, in so far as such exploration bogged the film down, particularly as the film detoured into the personal lives of the assistants and their lovers or partners.  Still, the performances were excellent and totally believable by every single cast member, and this film was engaging from beginning to end.  Particularly impressive was Mr. Neeson, who tends to have a commanding presence in most of his films and who inhabits his characters (and he's played many real-life historical figures) with true passion and carefully researched skill and nuance.  Linney is always good, but as I've officially seen all of the nominees in this category except for Sideways, at this juncture, I can safely say that Cate Blanchett deserved the award that year (and was a shoo-in at the time) for nailing a spot-on, truly eerie performance as Katharine Hepburn in the Aviator, even if I enjoyed this film far more than that one (for the record, The Aviator is my least favorite Scorsese film to date).

I digress.  Kinsey took on a heady (no pun intended) topic and, despite some narrative convolution, was actually an interesting and fascinating portrait of an interesting and fascinating man.  Thus, in patented ratings-scale world, I believe it is fair to rate Kinsey a 7.5, for being between shaky/entertaining and having minor flaws but being very good.  As for the test, I can't really see myself watching it repeatedly (and, therefore, it does not pass).  It's an interesting film, but it's not the kind of film you can pull out for a giggle, unless you're truly a disciple of the man it's discussing.  Still, as the only known film to broach this particular biography, I would recommend Kinsey, for the film's bravado and for the bravado of the inspiration behind it.

Under discussion:

Up  (2009)

Over a week ago, I made one of my rare trips to the movie theater for one of my annual devotionals to Pixar.  Yes, folks, I have officially seen every single Pixar film at the show and within a week of its release.  I, no doubt, have an overt bias toward this production company, but let's face it.  Pixar's worst film (which for me is Cars right now) is still ahead of the curve and better than 90% of the films out there.  Not to mention the fact that the originator of CGI entertainment still remains original, while all of the copycats have languished in the mediocrity of imitiation.

Up is Pixar's tenth feature and a strange hybrid of the studio's most original, and yet, most cliched story concept to date (some might peg that brand on Wall-E, but I beg to differ).  The first act treats us to the introduction of Carl Fredericksen and how he came to meet his future wife and soulmate, Ellie.  As childhood friends and sweethearts, they shared a love of adventure and dreamt of exploring South America and the legendary Paradise Falls.  They held onto this dream throughout their marriage and adulthood, through highs such as the purchase of their fixer-upper of a home (once an abandoned dilapidation they made their imaginary zeppelin) and lows, such as their inability to have children.  Through it all, they remained devoted, until Ellie succumbs to old age and illness.  Carl (voiced by Ed Asner) is left alone but for his promise to his now deceased wife that he would seek their adventure and find Paradise Falls.  The trouble is, Carl is something of a curmudgeon and unfortunately has one of those houses located smack within what looks to be a newly rezoned commercial development project.  When the construction foreman (voiced by Pixar's good luck charm, Cliff, I mean, John Ratzenberger), who tries to encourage Carl to move on, receives a blow to his noggin from an otherwise frustrated Carl, thereby causing a judge to court-order him into a retirement home, Carl takes action.  As seen in all of the previews, he transforms his home into one giant zeppelin of his own, lifted by thousands of colorful helium balloons.  He has two problems, however.  Young and precocious nature scout Russell, who has been bothering Mr. Fredricksen in the name of a few good-deed patches, stows away on his airborne front porch.  What's worse, Carl encounters a bit of turbulence and, courtesy of Russell, lands on the wrong side of the chasm containing the famed Paradise Falls.  Thus, Carl and Russell take his now floating house (not unlike a land speeder in Star Wars) by the reins and drag it through tangled jungle, only to encounter strange birds, talking dogs, Carl's childhood hero turned lunatic hunter (voiced by Christopher Plummer), and more adventure than a man of advancing age bargained for.

I read this article earlier this week, which was hot-linked to the imdb's home page.  The article can be found here:

http://www.overthinkingit.com/2009/06/03/pixars-up-paradise-lost-at-paradise-falls/

Well, it's really more of a blog post, but it's theme contemplates how Up and Milton's poem Paradise Lost share some noteworthy similarities.  I wonder if these similarities were purposeful or subconscious on the part of the writers.

What the article most expertly discusses is how Up is a lot deeper and more grounded than its whimsical colorful balloons suggest.  In many ways, this fable is an allegory for growing pains, particularly with regard to growing old.  It's an affirmation of life and love and camraderie, and the story is told in a frightfully inventive way, with humor and heartwrenching sadness.  The silent movie giving the viewer the glimpse of Carl and Ellie's life together was so touching, it elicited many a vocal "aw" from the crowd with which I saw this film.  The talking dogs, particularly the malfunctioning translator on the Doberman named Alpha were hilarious.  The voice acting by Ed Asner and Christopher Plummer was pitch-perfect, and their animated likenesses (which were nothing like their real likenesses) were textured and engaging.

The animation, as always, is superb in this film.  Each brightly hued balloon looks almost real, so much so, it's almost as if you can smell that balloony smell.  The depictions of the South American jungle were as lush and exotic as I would imagine the real thing to be.  Pixar's expertise in creating a world, an animated one no less, in which the viewer can completely suspend disbelief is unmatched, and Up proves to be another example of that truth.

This film, however, is not Pixar's best.  In fact, I'm thinking it rates in the lower five for me.  It comes down to the fact that while some of the film was artfully and classically rendered, giving it that shade of originality that is practically Pixar's trademark, there were elements of the film that detracted from its potential of being another masterpiece.  The Russell kid was annoying.  He all at once provided something of an antagonistic force and an appropriate contrast of youth, energy, and innocence compared to Carl's elderly cynicism and grief, but his purpose aside, the voice actor got on my nerves.  Not all of the talking dogs were funny.  The one that ends up following them around was too close to the dog in classic cartoons that frequently asked, "Can I play with the ball, George?"  What was that dog's name?  Well, this dog was a direct descendant of the other dog.  The plausibility of a floating or flying house aside, I could not understand how an elderly man who needs a cane to walk and a snot-nosed kid alone could drag a sturdy two-story, even if gravity wasn't its primary concern.  Also, the frenetic second act seemed disjointed in comparison to the simple and understated first act; then again, I know the studio tries to reach the child members of its audience as much as the adults, and the second act caters most to a younger crowd.  The short attached to the film was also not Pixar's best, but that's the other great part about seeing Pixar films in the theater: one gets to see the bonus short film to be later included in the DVD extras.

Still, I enjoyed Up.  Like all Pixar films, it entertained me; it made me laugh, it made me cry, it made me puzzle.  I think Up merits an 8.5 on the patented ratings scale.  It's on my like/love boundary and falls between very good/minor flaws and perfectly entertaining.  I consider many of the detractions I cited above as nitpicks, but I also still loved the film enough, possibly per my Pixar bias, to give it that rank.  It also naturally passes the test.  I would not hesitate to maintain my otherwise complete Pixar collection with its latest entry.  In any event, Up makes the spirit soar and is worth every penny and second of its 96 minute running time.  Word of caution, however: the 3-D feature is nice but really nothing to get excited about.  If you see it at the theater, save two bucks and resign yourself to two-dimensional viewing.  You're not otherwise missing much but an uncomfortable hour and a half with overpriced plastic spectacles.