Smooth_J Blog by smooth_j

Up

Was this review helpful? [Be the first to tell us!]

Under discussion:

Up (2009)

With Up, Pixar has pulled off something magnificent--and old-fashioned adventure story and an aching comment on aging packaged in a family friendly studio film. Don't get me wrong, Up works brilliantly as a film "for the whole family," sacrificing none of Pixar's inherent charm in order to make a mature film (much like Wall-E, which addressed similarly advanced themes whilst maintaining the slap-stick, love-sick aura of a children's movie). However, what amazed this reviewer the most was the fact that the adult's in the multiplex, my mother included, and the children, my brother included, enjoyed the film equally and non-equivocally; the themes of the film appealed to both the adults and the kids, and both seemed moved, often to the point of tears. (My mom, as well as several elderly members of the audience, were moved to tears by several sequences.)

One can only imagine the excitement the Pixar creative team must have felt when they nabbed the idea of an old fart flying away in his house to escape subjection to a retirement home ("How does the house fly away?" "Colorful balloons." "JACKPOT." "And there's talking dogs too." "My God, what will we think of next?"). It fits the formula of any successful film, and with Pixar behind, this film could not have flopped.

I'm not going to beat the ragged drum and rave about the marvelous opening sequence, or the rollicking adventure scenes, or the hilarious dog scenes...but they are all magnificent.

The impressive achievement of the film, one that sets it apart from all Pixar efforts that precede it, is the feeling of content old-fashionedness (sorry, I invented a word) that coats each frame. The waltzy score is reminiscent of 1940's Hollywood musicals and love stories, brimming with wonder and nostalgia. The adventure strived for is meant as a return to Treasure of the Sierra Madre action, with a clear-cut morality and immorality, the forces of good-nature combating the old figure of greed, embodied by a disgraced adventurer hiding out in the enigmatic Paradise Falls. Much like Raiders of the Lost Ark (I think Allmovieguide made this connection as well), it is a tribute, not a knock-off, of old adventure stories; it attempts a revamp, using adventure films' best characteristics, and discarding or playfully paying homage to their bad ones, to create something entirely new. And, in the case of Up, the ones paying tribute have crafted something remarkably beautiful.

Part of what makes the approach so effective is the sympathy created for the characters--in the widely accoladed opening sequence, the audience is completely convinced of the timeless devotion Carl feels for his wife. There is no doubt that he would go to the ends of the Earth to express his love for her, even following her death. Russel, the stowaway "Wilderness Explorer," is quite possibly the most hilarious and heart-breaking part of the movie. Although the viewer never formally meets his family or glimpses into his home-life, small details are revealed in his gregariously self-conscious dialogue that his life sucks. That would be a minute detail, if Russel's character were not so lovable; his naivete is tragic, but one cannot help but feel as though it is his only saving grace. I, a heartless old wretch (at the staggering age of 17), cried like a baby when Russel discussed his relationship with his father, tinged with longing, as for some reason, his real mother is gone and his father is never around. The only thing he seems to have in his life is his Wilderness Scouts club, and he pursues his badges with hell-bent vigor.

Everything about Up is instilled with an insatiable melancholy, but it doesn't stop the film from being a fun-as-hell ride. The action's great, the comedy's perfect, and the emotional resonance is second to nothing in theaters right now.

Posted Wednesday, June 17, 2009 6:34 PM by Smooth_J | with 0 comments

Waltz With Bashir

Was this review helpful? [Be the first to tell us!]

Under discussion:

Waltz With Bashir (2008)

Waltz with Bashir is a profoundly unsettling film. Perfectly transitioning between a startlingly realistic animated frame and the hallucinatory thought processes of the film's creator, it is both original and powerful, managing a stylistic breakthrough as well as knocking the wind from the viewers gasping lungs with its stark beauty and resonance.

The film follows an aging Israeli film-makers attempts to recollect his experiences in the 1980s Lebanon War, specifically his role in the massacre at Sabra and Shatila refugee camps. Through psychological examinations and testimonials, done in a documentary format, he slowly begins to realize the horrors he has faced, and the difficulty he will now have in shaking them.

The visuals are magnificent. It is as though the audience is reliving memories with Ari, and is being sucked in by their dream-logic and brutal realities. The opening scene, in which vicious dogs charge, unfeeling, ruthless, to an unknown adversary, is perhaps the most indelible of the entire film, serving to introduce the viewer to the nightmare and never let them leave. The dogs are a representation of war, of human nature, itself--charging, lifeless, to a destination unknown, only thinking about what they will destroy at the end.

Sorry if I sound heavy, but that's the effect the film has. It definitely sticks with you; I can't wait until I can see it again, and sort through the intricacies of the images, the deeper relevance of the psychology, and the historical conflict that they mirror. The massacre, which makes the Israeli soldiers "unwittingly take the place of the Nazis", is a stunning revelation, punctuated by a jump back to reality, out of the dreamworld, where the sins of humanity must once again be faced personally.

The film not only examines the condition and suffering of the Middle-East (made all the more relevant by the recent Hamas conflict), but the suffering of the human condition. The animation serves to enhance the allegorical perspective that the film chooses to take--our memories are shifting, pulsating, figments of time and, possibly, total hallucinations. To escape life's realities, perhaps we invent them, if only to forget the brutalities; however, the saying remains true--we must not forget the mistakes of the past, if we are to avoid them in the future.

Posted Saturday, February 14, 2009 4:27 PM by Smooth_J | with 0 comments

The Year My Parents Went on Vacation

1 out of 1 people found this review helpful. [What do you think?]

Under discussion:

The Year My Parents Went on Vacation (2008)

The Year my Parents Went on Vacation is a pretty involving little movie taking place during the military dictatorship in Brazil, with all things revolving around the impending World Cup. The second half of the movie is outstanding--it just took me a while to get there, because I was bored to tears with the first half.

The slow beginning is a result of lingering upon well-trodden and predictable plot devices. We know that we are in dictatorial Brazil, and Mauro's (the kid, played magnificently by Michel Joelsas) parents are going on vacation and leaving him behind. They are nervous, anxious, agitated, and keep looking long and sadly at their son. And we are led, basically spoon-fed, to believe that Mauro's parents are probably radical leftists, fleeing repression and an almost certain arrest. This would be fine if it were not dwelled upon for 10 minutes--there are so many innuendos as to the parents' political affiliation and the fact that they probably won't return from their vacation that it's difficult to believe that Mauro wouldn't catch on. Cao Hamburger attempts to capture the naivete of youth and does so successfully, but he lingers upon it too long, and it becomes irrelevant.

The next half an hour or so is spent resolving a sticky conflict that was made prominent when Mauro arrives at his grandfather's retirement community (I won't reveal it, but needless to say, you can see it coming). Everything is set up. Mauro is stuck at a mostly Jewish retirement community, with a reluctant old man named Schlomo (Germano Haiut, who also turns a solid performance) who is aloof about the boy for a while, but then later has a the Gratuitous Change of Heart and searches endlessly for the boy's parents.

The second half of the film abandons the cliched, unnecessarily emotional set-up for some politically charged and genuinely moving scenes. The characters are finally drawn to full potential. The plot finally thickens. The nostalgia of childhood is finally captured, making the finale all the more haunting. It is a great finish to an otherwise unimpressive movie.

Posted Saturday, January 24, 2009 11:40 AM by Smooth_J | with 1 comments

Slumdog Millionaire and some Undeserved Animosity

1 out of 1 people found this review helpful. [What do you think?]

Under discussion:

Trainspotting (1996)

Memento (2001)

28 Days Later (2003)

Brokeback Mountain (2005)

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008)

Little Miss Sunshine (2006)

Juno (2007)

The Dark Knight (2008)

Slumdog Millionaire (2008)

The Wrestler (2008)

Over the past decade or so, the film community has watched a surge of independent directors make outstanding films that get absolutely no awards recognition except perhaps on the festival circuit. Some of these directors include David Fincher, Darren Aronofsky, Christopher Nolan, and Danny Boyle. Their movies prior to this year's releases expressed their talent significantly, and yet have been largely ignored by most "major" organizations, most notably the Academy and the Golden Globes--however, they have received awards or nominations from several of the other prestigious associations: aside from various critics awards, Christopher Nolan has a DGA nomination under his belt for Memento; Danny Boyle has been praised and awarded multiple times in the UK, most notably the BAFTA awards; David Fincher, apart from critics awards, has won a DGA for commercials (of all things); and Darren Aronofsky has tragically been shut out of all major awards circles.

And then there's this year. Christopher Nolan has another DGA nomination for The Dark Knight, and that along with the multitudes of accolades that the film's receiving, with the exception of the lack of love the Globes showed (cue self-indulgent and inevitable reference to Heath Ledger's Joker...); David Fincher now has a BAFTA nomination to brag about as well as two more DGA nominations (one for commercials), a Golden Globe nomination, and an NBR win--all for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button; Darren Aronofsky has directed one of the most acclaimed performances of the year in one of the most acclaimed films of the year (The Wrestler), although he has been mostly shut-out of recognition (his most well-known appearance has been flipping off Rourke); and Danny Boyle, a director no longer to be ignored, has been raking in endless attention, from a Golden Globe win, to a DGA nomination, to another BAFTA nomination, and all the way to what is shaping up to be a definite Oscar nomination, and if all goes well, a win.

And now to the movie that is the catalyst of his exaltations: Slumdog Millionaire, a film about an Indian "slumdog" who is chosen to be a contestant on India's version of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? However, most people know almost everything there is to know about this movie already, so I won't continue to bombard you with the same synopsis and review.

It's a terrific movie. It's interminably entertaining, with great performances and a love-story that can only be described by the film's overlying theme: destiny. The love between the two leads is not necessarily fully developed, but that's the point. Jamal knows he loves Latika, and would go to the end of the earth to be with her, but the viewer never receives much explanation. Because of this, the film is mystical; it's a seemingly doomed romance, pushing onwards against all odds, with nothing but fate to tie it together. Latika at first seems confused at Jamal's passion, as is the audience, but she is soon enveloped in it, realizing with maturity beyond her age that it will never work. But Jamal sticks with his belief in love and destiny, and that is what brings him to the final round of the show, and an ultimate reunion with his love, and a tragic sacrifice by his brother.

Kevin Buist on Spoutblog referred to the film as "hectic and sloppy." I did not perceive that in the least. Slumdog Millionaire definitely has a frenetic, insatiable energy--but I saw it as the allure of youthfulness, which the characters all maintain despite their encounters with situations far beyond their levels of maturity. A particularly magnificent scene occurs when there is a montage of Jamal and Salim, his brother, hustling people on a train, with MIA's Paper Planes blaring on the soundtrack. It brings what I previously knew as a stoner tune, one to blast while driving down a college avenue in a shitty SUV, a whole new level of meaning; it was music and image meshed beautifully to form a scene of childlike wonder. Danny Boyle's masterful direction, as well as miraculously timed editing and grainy, dreamlike photography, allows the film to maintain the viewer's concentration, to captivate them, up to the final shot (of the story), where the magical realism of the film is summed up in a corny, cliched, and wonderful final exchange between lovers, including lines such as "It is destiny" and "Kiss Me."

Needless to say, the Bollywood dance sequence slaps a huge goofy smile on your face, no matter what your feelings about the film are--an intoxicatingly happy ending, punctuated by a final tribute to the country that the film owes its liveliness.

The film is becoming the subject of slight backlash, like Little Miss Sunshine and Juno before it--however, unlike those two films, I don't feel that Slumdog is deserving of the contrarian treatment. Crash began an era of awards contention is which films undeserving of major awards speculation are pushed to the top of year-end lists and critics awards. The awards season is driven not necessarily by quality of films but by the frenzied, rabid support that they draw from the louder patrons of Hollywood; Crash may not have even been nominated had it not been for an aggressive campaign strategy and an anti-Brokeback backlash. Crash was not a good film. It was an unsubtle, in-your-face anti-racism film--in other words, nothing but white noise. Little Miss Sunshine was a cute, entertaining little film that made it to the top through the support it gained at film festivals. Juno just rode the independent film wave, effortlessly driving its way to the top of contention despite it being corny fluff piece, a crowd pleaser that hid behind a too-hip-for-its-own-good script. Juno isn't necessarily a festival film even--it seemed to pretend it was, but it's my belief that it pretended to be to give it a lovable underdog status.

I don't dislike any of the films I just mentioned (except Crash--Paul Haggis sucks). However, I agree with the cynics in that all of them were undeserving of the infinite praise that they received.

Slumdog Millionaire is slightly different. It really is an underslumdog (I'm sorry) film--it was made with a low budget in the actual slums of Mumbai, with an entirely Indian cast and a British/Indian film crew. The only reason it is being recognized is because it is being loved consistently by (nearly) all that see it. It is incredible entertainment, a crowd-pleaser with timeless themes of love and destiny, as well as a genuine aesthetic achievement. Something about the film works in a way that none of the aforementioned films do--it is not in the least self-important, and despite its reliance on coincidence and fate, it never once feels forced. It flows, from the chase scene through the slums to the beautiful sequence on the train to the hokey Bollywood finale. It's escapism at its best.

Although some Indians are claiming the film as their own with pride, others are denouncing the film for depicting India as a slum. The movie is called SLUMdog Millionaire. It's about a kid from a slum who makes it on a gameshow. It's not claiming to represent India as a whole. It's merely depicting the struggles someone from a slum in Mumbai may face.

And do people really begrudge Danny Boyle the attention he's getting? The distinguished auteur behind Trainspotting, 28 Days Later, and Sunshine is getting his due for a film that almost no one had heard about less than a year ago. That's amazing.

I'm not saying the film is perfect--it has its flaws. I would not call it the best film of the year--yet. The Dark Knight was magnificent, and Christopher Nolan is overdue for some attention (although he has an Oscar nomination for writing already), as was Benjamin Button, and David Fincher is aching for a statue with such an impressive repertoire (let's just forget Panic Room). I have yet to see The Wrestler, let alone most of the other films in contention.

This year is going to be a tight race for the Oscars. I'm suggesting that people not focus on the mania behind films and actually watch the movies and make their own opinions about them. It isn't fair to renounce a movie just because of the attention it's getting; see the movie, and find out for yourself if it's deserving. Seeing movies with an open mind is the key to enjoying them, and fanatical incrimination of films prevents unbiased movie-watching from happening. It's a shame, because when it's time for a movie to receive its due, its achievements are often clouded by rancid smoke, expelled from the black and unwelcoming lungs of deliriously pretentious critics.

Posted Saturday, January 17, 2009 12:18 PM by Smooth_J | with 0 comments

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

Was this review helpful? [Be the first to tell us!]

Under discussion:

Forrest Gump (1994)

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008)

After reading the short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald, it is simple to figure out the reasons why they changed it so much to make an Oscar worthy, mainstream film. The story is wonderful, very satirical and beautifully written, but it would not translate well into a film, even if they had kept the general plot devices; yes, the only resemblance the film holds to the story is the arch, a man born a septuagenarian (what a useless word) aging backwards into eventual nothingness. The short story has a whimsical, detached feel, a meandering narrative structure despite its compact length. The movie maintains the structure and the arch, but nothing else.

That said, I loved the film.

David Fincher will undoubtedly be criticised for going soft, for appealing to the pathos of a mainstream audience. I unjustly made this assumption at first glance; there's a doomed romance, and a misplaced focus on realism in some of the scenes despite the mystical possibilities of the premise. However, after re-reading the short story, I came to realize that there was no way to successfully adapt the tone of the piece into a film; it focuses almost expressly on generational conflict, and the aging of a person making them even more naive than when they arrived on earth. The film needed to elaborate; and it did, into a well-deserved 159 minutes.

The opening sequence, beginning in a New Orleans hospital at the onset of Hurricane Katrina, is quite possibly the most beautiful of the entire film. A dying Daisy describes the efforts of a blind clock-maker to build a clock fit for a new train station. He makes it work in reverse, for reasons that I will not disclose in this review; it will suffice to say that what ensues, set to a poetic voiceover, is the most beautiful reverse-motion sequence I have yet seen (out of lots of reverse-motion sequences, believe me...). It serves to draw the viewer into the mysticism, to lose their sense of logical time--and to affect them emotionally from the onset.

The film is, however, a slave of consequence. This is where the inevitable comparisons to Forrest Gump will most likely be drawn. Some of the historical throw-ins are magical, such as Daisy and Benjamin witnessing a space-shuttle launch whilst sailing in the Gulf of Mexico. Others feel very forced, such as Benjamin's encounter with the woman who swam the English channel (although even that occurrence works in the context that it is used). An outright strange reference is the recurring joke of a man in a retirement home claiming to have been struck by lightning 7 times, a likely allusion to Roy Sullivan, the Virginia park ranger. (I looked him up on Wikipedia. This is slightly anachronistic, though strangely relevant to the short story; Roy Sullivan lived in Virginia, and the film takes place mostly in New Orleans, but the short story is in Baltimore.) The general premise of the film is reliant upon eventuality--evidenced by the fact that the revelation of the story is related with the climactic backdrop of Hurricane Katrina.

No matter how forced the film feels at times, it is genuinely moving. It is conveying a message that needs to be taken into account by all; life is fleeting, but don't take it for granted.

Posted Sunday, December 28, 2008 9:53 PM by Smooth_J | with 0 comments

Belle de Jour

Was this review helpful? [Be the first to tell us!]

Under discussion:

Belle de jour (1967)

I try and make it a habit to write something about every Bunuel film I see, if only to organize my thoughts and somehow make sense of what I just watched.

Belle de Jour is a particularly difficult one to figure out. A sexually frustrated housewife, Severine (Catherine Deneuve), hears that one of her friends is working as a prostitute in a Paris whorehouse. Her husband's creepy friend Husson (a briliant Michel Piccoli) gives her the address of a whorehouse that he knows of, and she is soon working afternoons, given the stage-name "Belle de Jour," or, a flower that blooms in the afternoon (because she can only work until 3, or else her husband will come home and find that she has been boning random high-class tourists).

Severine is haunted by sadomasochistic desires, and some of which include whips, bells, and gang-rape--Bunuel tastefully displays her visions with his trademark minimalist efficiency, only showing what needs to be shown to get his point across. It is these desires that lead Severine to the brothel, despite the fact that she cannot even bring herself to have sex with her husband.

It is difficult to decipher Severine's dreams and her reality, as they become increasingly intertwined in her new double-life, in which lustful abandon leads her to an affair with a young, brooding gangster. She is often shown being willingly punished for her decadence, although it is usually only her depraved imagination rendering such events on screen; however, in an early whorehouse scene, she submits to a client only after being forced upon the bed and held down ("Ah, you like it rough..."). Bunuel never delves very deep into the reality of Belle's apparent sadomasochism, but the tension she displays in sexual advances makes it obvious (along with her increasingly surreal dreams).

What's interesting about the film is the fact that Bunuel does not merely focus on sexual degeneracy, but on the liberty and subsequent guilt that Severine feels in her actions. Bunuel seems to be advocating prostitution in many ways; Belle de Jour loves her work, has fun, and is increasingly upbeat as she delves deeper and deeper into the profession. He almost seems to be suggesting that sexual connection between two people can be felt vicariously; Severine says she feels "closer than ever" to her husband Pierre, even though she denies his repeated advances and then proceeds to fornicate with the next man that strolls into the whorehouse. He loves to focus on this...on the look of intense pleasure on her face after an encounter, or on her impatience to return to her work. She says that she can't help but go back, and Bunuel seems to smile and say "But is that such a bad thing?"

Obviously, things go wrong--the guilt relieves her of her dreams, and she no longer feels the need to fulfill her sadistic desires. However, there is much more to the film than that; every nuance of meaning that Bunuel can throw in is used in surreal, minimalist fashion. His movies are a film-lover's joy, if they are willing to sift through the story to find the cynical, smiling auteur behind it, beckoning us to see life through his eyes.

Belle de jour (1967)

Posted Wednesday, December 24, 2008 1:22 AM by Smooth_J | with 0 comments

Delicatessen

Was this review helpful? [Be the first to tell us!]

Under discussion:

Alphaville (1965)

Delicatessen (1991)

The Professional (1994)

The City of Lost Children (1995)

12 Monkeys (1995)

As opposed to the equally bizarre City of Lost Children, Delicatessen is slightly less of a head trip. However, that's not to say that CoLT is pure head trip--it is just bizarre. I find myself lost for words attempting to describe the feel of the two films, the only two by Jeunet (and Caro) that I have seen. I suppose it suffices to say that they are remarkably dark yet infectiously upbeat, utterly grotesque yet unsettlingly whimsical.

From Delicatessen's incredible opening sequence, we are introduced to a bleak, filth stained existence in which people and vermin are considered palpable sources of food. Social unrest and starvation are plaguing the city--the "outside"--and yet we never see what this outside world really is. The film is staged not unlike a play in that it primarily takes place in a single location, with only a certain number of set pieces and location set-ups. The first hour of the film is even the same group of 10 or so characters; no new ones are introduced until the plot thickens into a conspiracy involving a supposed terrorist group. But that's irrelevant. To know the film, you must see it, and enjoy every freakish moment of it.

Despite lack of outward scope, Jeunet and Caro really manage to make use of what they have, and that is a group of very strange looking actors and some wildly inventive set pieces. The delicatessen and accompanying tenant houses are drab, dirty things, heightened by a brown mist that seems to envelope everything in the picture. The scheme is obviously filth, but it's the commitment to this theme that allows the viewer to look around the slight errors or budgetary constraints of the film. It's a humble film, but a great one, and a brilliant one.

Some of the humor reminded me vaguely of the films of the Coen brothers--you feel disgusting for laughing, but you can't help it. The humor is so relentlessly pitch black that the only way to truly accept it is to put aside your gut and laugh hysterically. The movie's easier to handle if you look at it as pure comedy, but even this fact doesn't stop the film from sending a very serious, very unsettling message.

I can't help but bring up the final scene, which is the highlight of the film for me, but I'll try to be careful as to not give too many plot points away. The entire movie is set up (satirically, of course) like a tragedy; the build-up is there, with the inevitably doomed characters, small scale set (as in a play), and seemingly doomed romance. I may be pushing it, but the butcher seems to be set up as a Julius Caesar figure, a brutal dictator in the secluded delicatessen. In the final shot of him, as he falls into his chair, I feel as though it is no accident that his apron takes on the appearance of a toga; and then, as if to soften the blow of this finale, his final breath resembles that of a frog croaking.

And then there's the scene on the roof, where the two boys, who have remained on the fringe of the film throughout, climb to the roof to imitate Pinon and Dougnac playing their instruments, two humble conductors, with their childish view of things, observing the events but staying out of them. I could not help but to think of these two as Jeunet and Caro themselves, ending the film with their modest bows; and then the camera pans to the two leads, playing in their bizarre orchestral duo, to conclude the romance. What better way to end a dark, whimsical, unsettling, original comedy?

See Brazil, Leon, City of Lost Children, 12 Monkeys, Alphaville even

Posted Saturday, November 29, 2008 2:50 AM by Smooth_J | with 0 comments

Review-My Winnipeg

Was this review helpful? [Be the first to tell us!]

Under discussion:

My Winnipeg (2008)

After various failed attempts at catching a showing of this at local independent film theaters, I finally found the DVD on sale on Candian Amazon.com (whoda thought?). Being a huge Guy Maddin fan, I cannot explain my anticipation for this film.

It is a difficult one to get into--you plunge instantly into Maddin's wonderful and bizarre psyche, and you do not leave until the snow stops blowing on the soundtrack and the credits roll to the film's haunting instrumental music. His trademark patchwork, kaleidoscopic style of editing and plotting is evident from this point, although it is slightly more restrained; only in select sequences does he harken to the silent film, frenzied montage style of his previous work. This is a more focused Maddin, albeit a more reflective and meditative one. His power of observation and his peculiar outlook and comparisons are demonstrated mostly through his poetic, longing narration (which he records himself, a very personal touch).

In a library of almost uncomfortably intimate films, this is by far his most personal. Every emotion that Maddin feels is felt by the viewer; every event that is described is visualized brilliantly as well. It is a film of uncanny power, and it is ambitious in its delivery--how is it possible to pull off a documentary on a city's history/his own personal languishment? Maddin manages the difficult task perfectly, infusing every aspect of his character used in his films thus far, and including parts untouched as of yet; it is a passage into his mind, and it is a hypnotizing experience.

If you are not a fan of Maddin, the film may be too much; it is surrealist and incredibly strange, and difficult to stomach if you are not in agreement of his very unique sensibilites. It also helps to have background on his previous films and on his general story, because it increases your understanding of the movie as a whole. However, it is highly recommended. From its dreamy opening to Maddin's heartbreaking final lament, it is an impelling film, deeply nostalgic and quietly powerful.

Posted Sunday, November 02, 2008 9:45 PM by Smooth_J | with 0 comments

Review: Max Payne-Not Unbearable

Was this review helpful? [Be the first to tell us!]

Under discussion:

Max Payne (2008)

I cannot think of a movie easier to advertise than a hardcore as shit videogame movie starring Mark Wahlberg, in which he plays a hard-boiled disillusioned cop that hunts the prowls the underworld at night, endlessly seeking revenge. How can you go wrong?

Max Payne tries really, really hard to mess it up. Somehow, dark angels and some very solemn expressions get the job done.

The first thing you notice about the movie is that it is depressingly bleak. Everyone is perpetually pissed off, and the sky is overcast and constantly spewing all manner of atmospheric precipitation. (find the pun!) The opening scenes are generally God-awful--I condemned the movie within the first five minutes, with the terribly contrived dialogue, played out by terribly contrived characters within an incredibly cliched precinct. Mark Wahlberg sits behind his desk, brooding under a single lamp in the "cold case" unit (which is aptly labeled with a sign the says "Cold Case Unit"...I wonder if all office labels in a police station are hung like shopping center signs). Marky Mark seems to be saying, "I can't wait to get out of this shithole and kick some ass." The viewer hopes for the same thing.

Lo and behold, next thing we know Marky's framed, standing still, looking down an empty subway terminal, complete with flickering lights, dreary decors, and three strung out, sweaty druggies sitting on a bench. The movie, from then on, kicks in to gear, goes from 6 to 12, and starts busting out everything at its studio approved disposal.

The movie is at its most entertaining when it is completely absurd...the viewer is never quite able to make sense of the events. Valkries fly around and send drug addicts to their deaths, but somehow they're only seen by the ones under the influence, or fiending for their next dose. Then, when the climax is building, and you think that this will be explained, it abandons it and goes for a conventional ending. While this is the most noticable, there are dozens of abandoned plot lines and continuity errors that may be pure screw-ups, but seem as though the film-makers forgot about them and moved on. It's all for the best--if the film lasted five minutes longer, it would've surpassed its barriers of escapism and become pure bombardment of Disney sequel proportions.

Although it's fun, it seems as though every scene has been done before in some form. There are the jump cuts, the yellow-tinged flashbacks, the betrayals, and the eye candy of almost every recent mainstream man-flick (which is what I've taken to calling this sort of movie). Some of it even seems Guy Ritchie-esque, which was just a slap in the face considering RocknRolla was sold out...but I guess it was good to see this first, so that Ritchie's apparent triumphant return will seem all the more victorious and awesome.

There's not much to say about the film, except that it's a good time, and just as fun to make fun of during the most ludicrous sequences. I just wish it had stopped brooding for a minute to laugh at itself.

Suggestions: action movies in general

Posted Friday, October 31, 2008 11:08 PM by Smooth_J | with 0 comments

Review: Team Picture

1 out of 1 people found this review helpful. [What do you think?]

Under discussion:

Stranger Than Paradise (1984)

Kicking and Screaming (1995)

Team Picture (2007)

I had no idea what the term "mumblecore" meant before I saw this movie. I had a general idea--the type of stuff that is seen frequently on IFC and is worshipped in smaller circles but would never last two seconds in the fleeting interest of the mainstream (or even the very fringe of it). This movie cemented what it means to be completely meaningless in my brain.

The plotline: Two young whipper-snappers (Kentucker Audley and Tim Morton) live together in Memphis and do absolutely nothing all day, except Kentucker Audley has a job at a sporting goods store that his mom's boyfriend owns. However, he soon quits that job to "pursue...uhm...other things", such as spending more time around the kiddy pool in his front yard. Or, possibly, playing the guitar and singing. He and his roommate soon meet girls, they fall for them, and then get screwed over and realize that they're going to move.

Everything else is white-noise.

It has the picture quality of a home-made movie (which it basically is) but the actors are all surprisingly convincing. Kentucker Audley is excellent, but one gets the feeling that he is portraying himself onscreen, as are all of the other characters. It doesn't take much ability to mumble repetitive and brain-fried lines, but towards the end of the film where actual emotions are shown for the first time, Audley and co-star Tim Morton show commendable skill in bringing a small sense of longing and sadness to their heartbroken characters. The other characters don't have very much screen time, except for possibly Kentucker's fling, who does a respectable job.

The film's meaninglessness is its only strong point--it's just a story, a parable about the ethics of doing absolutely nothing. It's when the resemblance of a plot develops that the film sputters and loses its blissful sense of nothingness. In the first half of the movie, almost no expressions (not even laughter) are shown any of the character's faces, besides a well-acted portrayal of Kentucker's mom's boyfriend, who is an obnoxiously upbeat type, the kind that angers even the most calm of slackers. Luckily, Kentucker IS the most calm (or heavily sedated--it's never specified) of slackers, and he just gets rid of his presence in the simplest of ways--he quits his job, in which the boyfriend is his boss. However, it's when a sense of sadness acutally enters the facial expressions of the characters that something is lost in the movie. The viewer feels the intentionally melancholy nature of the film, with its meandering players and overly stressed mediocrity; but the film breaks that artful barrier when the viewer begins to actually see this realization on the character's faces.

As I mentioned before, the actors do a good job, even when they actually have to act. The subplots of Kentucker's parents, obviously divorced, are pretty run-of-the-mill, and the film seems to be imposing too much on itself--meaning that it is not so whimsical, not quite so enchantingly pointless. The best scenes are the ones that show complete vacuity, and some of them are actually pretty beautiful, such as a scene where Kentucker wanders through a bug-ridden meadow, sipping a cup of coffee (most likely containing whisky as well) and looking vacantly at his surroundings. Kentucker sees nothing in it, and neither does the viewer. And that's strangely comforting.

The film's not necessarily original. I was constantly reminded of Stranger Than Paradise, with its completely inactive characters and artfully aimless dialogue. What makes STP so much better is that the character interactions are far more meticulously rendered, and the improvisation of Jarmush's characters brings an originality and unpredictability to the seemingly senseless exchanges. STP is also one of the most wonderfully shot films I have ever seen, with its rambling black and white photography perfectly capturing the foreign atmosphere of an American landscape. Team Picture is shot with the home-grown feeling of 'been there, done that' and does not dwell on the romanticism and artistic possibilties of aimlessness; which is fresh in a way, but also somewhat disappointing.

I guess an opinion on Team Picture really depends on what you would define artfulness as; I would still consider Team Picture to be an adreftly intriguing film, but it fails to reach a level even close to previous efforts in similar subjects. It is just not a particularly profound, and it's just not a very strong movie, despite an obviously noble effort by Kentucker Audley.

Recommendations: The far superior Stranger Than Paradise, and now that I think about it, it's thematically similar to Kicking and Screaming, just minus the intellectuals.

Posted Sunday, October 05, 2008 7:05 PM by Smooth_J | with 1 comments

Review: Remembering (Revisiting) Forgetting Sarah Marshall

Was this review helpful? [Be the first to tell us!]

Under discussion:

The 40-Year-Old Virgin (2005)

John Tucker Must Die (2006)

Knocked Up (2007)

Superbad (2007)

Forgetting Sarah Marshall (2008)

This was a film I saw in theaters with absolutely no expectations. The previews, the poster, even the cast made it seem like an incredibly unoriginal studio vehicle. I refused to pay attention even to the most positive of reviews that the movie was getting--even my favorite critic's 3 1/2 star review of the film (88% on Metacritic). So, I walk into the theater with a few of my friends, hating myself for being a part of the crowd of half-drunk teenagers and their most recent of partners filing into the auditorium and talking very loudly about the stupidest things imaginable. My friends insisted that it was supposed to be "Funny as shit dude!"

My pre-formed opinions were almost completely proven with a generic opening sequence that involved a happy Cake song, teeth brushing, and early morning cereal and television in pajamas. I was ready for nearly two hours of pompous bashing of the film with my friends. And then, Jason Segel's dick pops out.

"Oh my goodness!" I thought. The rest of the theater clearly thought the same thing, with chorus' of "Ew!"s and "Gross!"s and "Eeek! A penis!"s. I thought this was pretty funny. Thus began my two hours of pleasantly surprised hysterical laughter.

With my previously porta-potty bad expectations, I found the film to be very original for a textbook romantic comedy. I knew what was going to happen the entire film--but it was the actual journey that I found to be hysterical, and how the typical events played out differently. My friends seemed to be under the impression that it was better than Knocked Up or Superbad (because that's how they compare comedies nowadays I guess?), something that frustrated me beyond belief, since Sarah Marshall was basically riding the wave (Hawaii pun) that had been originated in those two films and 40 Year Old Virgin. "Just wait to you see it again!" everyone said when I would cynically disagree.

So, I preordered it, got it a day before it was supposed to even be released, and watched it. For some reason, it failed to resonate as well a second time.

The film is at its strongest during the first hour. The early sequence involving Segel's desperate attempts to get over Sarah Marshall in the form of repeated promiscuous encounters with an array of strange women is especially strong. The movie begins to run stale after the first hour, but still manages to be endearing, more "twanging the heart strings", so to speak.

Don't get me wrong, it's a hilarious movie. It's also sensitive, maintaining a balance between commentary on post-breakup angst and (mostly) smart humor. The acting is surprisingly good, and all of the characters are very likeable, if slightly idealized. Jason Segel holds his own as a leading man, even if some his jokes run dry when they are clearly meant to be knockouts. Russel Brand is great even when his character is too over-the-top. And the leading ladies, Kristen Bell and Mila Kunis, not only complement the scenery but demonstrate genuine pathos, infusing their characters with something completely real in the romantic comedy world of caricatured characters and stories. And, might I mention, Mila Kunis has to be one of the cutest human beings on the planet.

The supporting characters, such as Paul Rudd and Bill Hader, provide most of the film's hilarity. The comedy comes not only from the lead characters' emotional scars, but almost moreso from other peoples' attempts to make him forget them, or in Kunu's (Paul Rudd's) words, "**** the lemons and bail." The best moments are the ones where Segel's pain is forgotten, which usually only occur in the presence of the very gifted supporting cast. This very evident fact makes a viewer wish the he would just forget the blonde bitch already and get on Mila Kunis, because even the best cutesy romantic scenes come when she's on the screen, and the funniest parts in Hawaii come when she's the primary love interest.

The film probably won't age as well as some of Judd Apatow and Co's other strong efforts, but I definitely would include this one in there. What was so great about Knocked Up and 40 YOV is that they managed to transcend the romantic comedy genre that they so easily fit into. They stand alone as a comedy, approaching the romantic plots from left-field with a tongue-in-cheek demeanor but also with a true sincerity. Forgetting Sarah Marshall seems to fit more into the mold of typical date movie fare, but still has a fresh, original methodology in its emotional themes (and also its raucous comedic sensibilities).

It is actually a great movie. I love it, despite its obvious flaws and generic plot lines. I can't wait for Jason Segel to get another chance at writing, because I'm almost positive that he can only get better after such a solid debut. Maybe he'll try to push the mold even more, following Seth Rogen's creative role choices and endeavors. Or maybe he'll fade into obscurity...but the pig scene in Forgetting Sarah Marshall makes me hope he doesn't.

Recommendations: 40 Year Old Virgin, Knocked Up, Superbad...and, for other romantic comedies with a character's name in the titles, let's not forget John Tucker Must Die! Christ, what a terrible movie.

Posted Sunday, October 05, 2008 3:23 PM by Smooth_J | with 0 comments

Jesus, what a clusterfuck.

Was this review helpful? [Be the first to tell us!]

Under discussion:

8 1/2 (1963)

La Dolce Vita (1960)

Raising Arizona (1987)

12 Monkeys (1995)

Fargo (1996)

The Big Lebowski (1997)

O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000)

Michael Clayton (2007)

No Country for Old Men (2007)

Burn After Reading (2008)

The Coens have the uncanny ability to make you laugh hysterically and then make you feel like a total jerk for laughing, all in the same stride. Burn After Reading provides that sort of fun-filled game of the Coens providing you with outstanding entertainment, all the while toying with you and laughing smugly to themselves. A standard moviegoer walks out of Burn After Reading with a big, goofy smile, having thoroughly enjoyed the antics and witticisms of the array of imbeciles portrayed onscreen. The avid filmgoer (and Coen devotee) will walk out of the film with the same goofy smile, except realizing how stupid the Coens just made everyone and everything in the world look. Oh, Ethan and Joel, how you mock us...

The film opens with a wide shot of the United States from an "intelligence" standpoint in outer space. I believe that the purpose of this was to establish the only firm idea in the film: You are in Washington, DC, in the United States. Have fun.

The beginning segments introduce the players, known now by everyone interested in seeing the film and therefore pointless for me to list. Needless to say, everyone is excellent. George Clooney, though panned by some critics as giving a bland, "Clooney" performance, is great, playing an extension of his role in O Brother, Where Art Thou?, except now he has a gun and is a sex addict. He has some of the best scenes in the movie, and there are a shitload of great scenes. Tilda Swinton is a stone cold bitch, and its perfect. I am one of the few who thought she was overrated (hardcore) in Michael Clayton, but she really proves herself in this movie. While she's not necessarily one of the more hysterical characters, she's definitely very solid and provides a strong contrast to the broad comedy of the other characters.

Frances McDormand, I hate to say, was a bit undervalued...some of her big scenes were duds. However, I thought she was great, injecting her part with vulnerability and witless determination.

John Malkovich plays a man who is enraged beyond belief with the "morons that he's had to deal with his whole fucking life." Seeing him lose it is an enlightening experience. I was convinced about how awesome this film would be after seeing the production photos of his walking down the street in a bathrobe, underwear, and a beater while carrying a drink in one hand and a hatchet in the other. I can see that one scene becoming truly iconic for Malkovich.

Brad Pitt is a hardass. Chad is a character that could have so easily become a caricature of the average stupid guy, a buffoon who nobody really cares about, he's just there for laughs. But Pitt makes the character a real person, that guy you see at the gym that's nice to everybody but who's only topics of conversation are what his senses are attuned to at the moment (The ADD guy who's charismatic enough for everyone to ignore how incredibly emtpy-headed he is). He is the lovable character, the "Donnie", who the audience immediately relates with and finds the funniest. The joy he seems to take in this role takes him back 10 years, almost back to the insane glee of 12 Monkeys.

Pitt's character brings me to my previous topic of lamentable laughter. Like Fargo, the Coens want the audience to think that the most disturbing of occurences are funny. They want you to double over when William H. Macy fights the cops who are restraining him, squealing like a captured pig, lamenting his life and going insane. That's their idea of fun. And then afterwards, they throw something in, basically saying "You insensitive prick, you laughed at that?" There are a couple scenes of that in Burn After Reading. Several, actually. And it's embarrassing to be the only "insensitive prick" in the theater cackling even as the camera pans to the aftermath of one of these scenes. I mean, I'm sure other people realized it, but had the sense to keep their mirth to themselves.

I find that buckets of fun.

The supporting players provide a lot of the movie's other vital organs (if the main characters are the heart--albeit, a decrepid one). JK Simmons is outstanding, the only major character that has any real sense. He acts as a narrator almost; an outsider, seeing the events with just as much confusion as the viewer. His lines sum up everything about the movie, making sure that the audience knows that it's all in good fun. Nothing really matters, so don't worry if you don't get it. We don't get it either.

Richard Jenkins is the only character with a noticeable soul (except perhaps Clooney, hidden deep inside his perpetually horny complexion). He's a poor, lovelorn old guy, without so much as the courage to profess his love to the shallow, dull McDormand. He is almost seen with contempt by the viewer, being such a pathetic old man, but the Coens quickly make you realize how much of a dick you are for thinking that. And lastly David Rasche, a seldom heard of actor, is effectively deadpan as the informer of JK Simmons' CIA Superior. Somehow, his performance stands out, probably because of its normalcy compared to the weirdness of everybody else.

I came to the conclusion early on in the film that this is just the Coens having fun, following the brutal and poetic No Country with some goofy fun. As Peter Travers successfully analyzed, the Coens have followed all of their more serious subjects with their trademark "zany" (for lack of a better word) comedies. As usual, they throw in their two-sense about society, humanity, and what have you. They thoroughly believe that most people are dim-witted, but it doesn't change the fact that these sorts of people have to be dealt with nonetheless. However, Burn After Reading shows that the Coens can show these sorts of characters with compassion. Their previous efforts, such as Fargo and Raising Arizona, were criticized for being condescending towards their own characters. I disagree. While those two films were a bit more pessimistic about these people, both of them (especially Fargo) demonstrate the Coens' love of these people. Why would they continue to make movies about them if they were just ridiculing them? They find depths in characters that seem one note and shallow. They give you a reason to their moronic delusions. They make you feel for them, and realize "Oh, wow, I guess that is pretty stupid when I do that."

It may be a stretch, but their work almost brings to mind the two Fellinis that I've seen, La Dolce Vita and 8 1/2. In the booklet for LDV, an essay proclaims that Fellini was primarily an entertaining, infusing his stories with existentialism and satire. While I think the Coens are different in a lot of ways, this could just as easily be said about them.

Burn After Reading is basically just evidence that the Coens having a good time is better and more profound than most film-makers' serious efforts. While they are cynical, making each of their movies an inside joke that only they can really decipher, they always manage to entertain their audience. As usual, this review really only touched on the surface of the hundreds of things that can be said about this film. But, all you need to know essentially is that it's a hilarious entry into the Coens' filmography, and has the potential to gain a cult status with The Big Lebowski if it duds with critics. I doubt it will, however, now that the Coens have officially proved themselves with No Country, giving them the freedom to do whatever the **** they want.

(Oh, did I mention I'm a fan?)

Posted Friday, September 12, 2008 11:24 PM by Smooth_J | with 0 comments

Summer Castle.

2 out of 2 people found this review helpful. [What do you think?]

Under discussion:

Forrest Gump (1994)

Summer Palace (2008)

The Lives of Others (2007)

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (2007)

"Sex and politics are on full boil!" NY Times

"Its sex scenes are mini revolutions!" Guardian

"I got a boner--from all the sex!" TVs Fred Savage, DGA nominee

That is the first impression that the viewer of Summer Palace is supposed to receive. A hot-seat, glorified porno, and that's mostly what the film is. However, it's a bit more high-class than that: Lou Ye has a better eye for photography than your average porno auteur, and he manages to meld the debauchery with political events, whether or not his characters (that happen to be having sex at the time) know what the hell is going on.

I actually liked the film. While the running time was a bit on the long-side, and certain scenes were way too brooding and self-important, there were frequent shines of brilliance in Lou Ye's direction.

The story involves a girl named Yu Hong from a small Chinese town, who is introduced as being strange and strong-willed and in a passionate romance with her boyfriend. Just as soon as she sleeps with him in a "lyrical love scene" in the middle of a field, she says that she's leaving him and going to school in Beijing.

Cut to: Beijing, where disaffected youth smoke like chimneys and have intellectual discussions in their dorm rooms, all the while having an interest in the opposite sex that can only be described as juvenile. There are long, LONG shots of the heroine's face as she stares down her love interest, Zhou Wei, and establishes an obviously otherworldly mind-connection with him, because those scenes and their wonderfully photographed sex-scenes are really the only connection that they seem to have. This is the one issue I had with the film--while everything looks beautiful, passionate, and melancholy, there doesn't seem to be much substance behind Yu's and Zhou's relationship. We're meant to think there is, and there quite possibly may be, but there is not much evidence of it.

Eventually, the students become wise to this whole "communist government" thing and begin to stage huge protests, to which Yu and her female friends seem to know nothing about. The depiction of Tiananmen Square is incredibly effective: Yu seems to drift through the endless throngs of people, in a haze, an outsider trapped in something that she cannot escape from. While at many points the movie seems to be masquerading as something much more important than it really is, this scene is perfect.

Soon after these protests, and in the format of any sweeping love story, Yu and Zhou are inevitably separated by the forces that brought them together and eventually reunited and need to decide whether their love has lasted. In general story arch, the film is undeniably conventional.

It's Lou Ye's outstanding direction that makes the film good. His eye for gorgeous, continuous shots is unprecedented--I could have fallen for the film after the club scene very early in the film, in which corny pop music is playing and Ye deftly maneuvers his camera to view all parts of the club, while still focusing mostly on Yu's and Zhou's connection. There is a very French, new-wave feel to it, while still capturing the lyricism of truly Asian art. The ending is a perfect illustration of this: it is beautiful, it is ambiguous, and it is heartbreaking. (Minus the cheesy, indulgent mini-bios of the character's lives after the film's events--do yourself a favor and press STOP right after the film starts to fade out.)

I stated earlier in my review that Summer Palace is a glorified porno, and that is an exaggeration. While there are about 10 sex scenes, including scenes in a field, in a hallway of a public establishment, and in three or four different bedrooms with all manner of partner pairings, it really is not as bad as you'd think from reading the DVD case. The film would most likely merit an NC-17 rating, but I'm not one to judge. (The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is PG-13, and there are full nudity shots in it.) However, the sex scenes really do serve a purpose. Most of the dialogue between lovers consists of very generic, simple sentences, including "What now?", "What's wrong?", "Do you love me?", etc. The real passion is established through the imagery, through the feelings evoked by the director's style, and most noticeably through the outstanding music. The score really is a marvel, though I've heard it criticized as being "atrocious and cliched," two of the last words that came to my mind. The sex scenes only add to the poetic fervor of the character's and of the film itself.

Unless the Chinese government is exceptionally stupid (which is more than possible), I would venture to guess that the banning was on account of the sexual liberty shown in the film. The subplot of political activism and unrest really felt forced, with no real connection to the character's other than their newfound "free-love" feelings, which are revolutionary at this time in China. I couldn't help but comparing the backdrop to Forrest Gump's backdrop of several generations of political and social turmoil--but while in Forrest Gump, the political commentary added to hilarity (I don't care what people say about that movie), in Summer Palace it only slows down the plot, especially in a God-awful transition montage around the film's halfway point. As I previously mentioned, the only scene of relevance is the Tiananmen Square sequence. Another film that is pretty connected in subject matter is Germany's The Lives of Others, a far superior film, demonstrating East Germany's secret police's invasion of privacy and censorship while trying to catch a pair of stage actors who infuse their plays with political satire. However, that is more of a morality tale than a romance, and Summer Palace is almost strictly romance with attempted undertones of political importance.

Once again, I have found myself picking apart and bringing down a film that I actually enjoyed. I didn't love it, since it has its obvious flaws, but it is a good movie, and an excellently photographed one. If you're easily offended by full-frontal nudity and gratuitous sex, you might do best to steer away from this one. But it is a decent, lyrical love story from a very talented director. Its hot-seat political significance should really only be remembered for the reaction of the Chinese government.

Posted Saturday, August 30, 2008 1:14 PM by Smooth_J | with 5 comments

The Midnight Sun

Was this review helpful? [Be the first to tell us!]

Under discussion:

Memento (2001)

Insomnia (2002)

Batman Begins (2005)

The Prestige (2006)

Something about Insomnia just did not work. I mean, it had the makings of a great movie, and to be honest, it almost was a great movie. But there was just something missing, something lacking from the basic feel of the movie that couldn't really be made up for, no matter how hard Pacino, Williams, and director Chris Nolan tried.

The story is pretty obviously a remake of a Norwegian film made in the 90s, which apparently is pretty superior to this; one thing that this film succeeded at was making me put that film on the top of my list of films to see. The general idea of the story is excellent, with the guilt and insanity of the murder case thrown in with Dormer's (Pacino's) own guilt for the accidental murder of his partner and his shady tactics used to put a child murderer behind bars in LA.

The insomnia of the midnight sun is absolutely perfect. It seems as though insomnia is a great subject for Nolan to tackle, since in each and every one of his movies to date involves his depiction of the acute sensory details of his characters' illusions and flashbacks. In Memento, it's Guy Pearce's momentary flashbacks of his wife being brutally beaten. In The Prestige, there are very specific images of drowning and guilty flashbacks. Even in Batman Begins he uses a very acute, jumpy imagery to portray the effects of Scarecrow's hallucinogen. In Insomnia, he manages to use most of these tricks the entire movie--the jumpy eye movements, the flashes of light, the strange sounds of everyday life echoing in the ears. On the level of Nolan's direction, the film in beautiful.

However, something is just wrong with the script. Nothing is really ever played out as it should be--it's not as though there's much to be desired. I can't really even place my finger on it. I mean, the film is a taut, nearly explosive thriller. But why did I feel so disconnected from it? My only explanation is that the pacing of the film was just slightly off, and the ending was a pretty cliched, making use of a awfully bland and textbook performance by Hilary Swank (bleh). I mean, even she sort of contributed to the film's overall lackluster feel, and she should have been a huge asset.

Pacino and Williams are great...it's actually really interesting to see Pacino play a role like this, since his character's are usually so collected and outspoken, while in this he is forced to downplay and portray a man who is slowly going insane from lack of sleep. ("Six days," says Williams. "You beat my record.")

The film is worth watching, because it's surely entertaining and well-made. Nolan really tries his hardest, and there's nothing you can say to criticize his direction. But the script is lacking, and Hilary Swank pretty much sucks.

Posted Monday, August 11, 2008 11:32 AM by Smooth_J | with 0 comments

I may be bad, but I feel...GOOD.

Was this review helpful? [Be the first to tell us!]

Under discussion:

Army of Darkness (1992)

Edward Scissorhands (1990)

The Evil Dead (1983)

The Nightmare Before Christmas (2006)

Step Brothers (2008)

Zombie Strippers (2008)

I fricken loved this movie. This week I got my full share of shamelessly heartfelt, hysterical belly laughs, since I saw Step Brothers earlier in the week and then this. But to be honest, I haven't had this much fun watching a movie since Zombie Strippers.

The movie starts in the middle of the action with little to no explanation as to what's going on--I suppose the first two Evil Dead films sort of serve as the exposition, or maybe this movie really needs no introduction. The basic gist is that Bruce Cambell gets sent back in time by malevolent forces and is deemed as a hero of prophecy after defeating several undead foes with a chainsaw and then a miraculously appearing shotgun. Never have the people of the middle ages seen such heroics--or such raw, quotable attitude--in one man, heightened by his "boom-stick" and perpetually bloody chainsaw.

He is soon commisioned to retrieve the Necronomicon, the book of the dead, so that he may save the kingdom from the evil forces. But he insists that he only wants to get back to his own time, and that's the only reason he's going to get it. Impressed by his bravery, he finds a marvelously sanitary medieval squeeze, who is swept off her feet when he grabs her violently and says: "Gimme some sugar, baby."

The best part of the film is undeniably Bruce Cambell. He is an undeniable hard-ass, and some of his one liner's are DROP DEAD HILARIOUS (heh). However, my ceaselessly analytical mind did pick up on some distinct visual properties of the film. It's campy set decoration brings to mind some of Burton's work, which seemingly all came later than this, such as Nightmare Before Christmas and Edward Scissorhands. Even the stop-motion effects of the living dead seem almost taken right out of Nightmare.

This is one of those B-Movie gems that is hilarious in its insistence to not be taken seriously. Even the scenes that at first seem legitimately meant to scare, some classic camp or gag is thrown in to make it completely hysterical. It is at once a tribute to the genre, and even moreso a parody, all the while remaining faithful to its origins and throwing in an inventiveness that is difficult to find anymore.

Posted Sunday, August 03, 2008 4:52 PM by Smooth_J | with 0 comments

Smooth_J Blog

Like what you're reading?