laraemeadows

Under discussion:

Speed Racer  (2008)

Speed Racer, the popular cartoon, races his way onto the big screen.   Speed Racer is a fantastical, whirling, spinning, psychedelic abomination with almost no plot, horrific sets and one-liners that would be rejected by Laffy Taffy.

Speed Racer (Young:  Nicholas Elia, Old:  Emile Hirsch) grew up wanting to race cars and looking up to his racecar driving brother, Rex Racer (Scott Porter).  At the first chance he got, Speed became a professional race car driver.  Heading up the crew is Pops (John Goodman), Speed and Rex’s father.  Rex is tempted by money to leave his father’s team and live the life of luxury by joining a larger racing team. 

My husband and I have been playing a free race car game called TrackMania.  We’ve become addicted.  You fly off ramps, go upside down and avoid obstacles.  It is fun because it is just realistic enough to be believable but novel enough to be fun.  Movies have to find that same mix of novel and realistic.  Andy and Larry Wachowski mix Speed Racer as well chlorine and ammonia go together (look it up).

Green screens are a double edged sword.  Green screens can offer us a world of altered physics and take the audience to worlds we would never see.  Green screens are also cheaper, in many cases, than building a set, so directors like the Wachowski Brothers use it when they should be building proper sets.  The pseudo sets, as I call them, are a horrific cinematic malformation.  The wash of spinning colors are newfangled but there is nothing familiar about them, so they are hard to wrap your mind around.   When the track looks like the best driver would end up dead on their first go round, there is no way to suspend your disbelief long enough to choke down the abysmal dialogue. 

Speed Racer is one of the most impeccable examples of why the writer and director should not be the same people.  If there had been a proper writer or director, someone probably would have noticed there is only a Saturday morning cartoon episode amount of plot, taffy-pulled to 129 minutes.  The plot, which was so horrible, is challenging for me to summarize, was only slightly more complicated than creative writing projects completed by seven year olds in Ms. Smith’s second grade English as a second language class.   I guess the Wachowski brothers thought if they threw the vomitous dialogue between infinite montages, we might not notice the bad taste in our mouths.

If a wise audience member left the theater to go get popcorn, a soda, make a pot roast and give birth to triplets, they would return during the same racing sequence.   After twenty minutes there was no plot progression, and we hadn’t met most of the characters.  Most of what we saw was Emile Hirsch in his car as the green screen spins a Spirograph race car track behind him.

There was one funny line in all of Speed Racer, delivered by John Goodman.  “It’s terrible what passes for a ninja these days.”  That is funny, even out of context.

Speed Racer is a live action cartoon, with all the quality visuals and writing.  Instead of watching this AV Club whack off, stay home, play TrackMania and drop some acid.  It will have the exact same affect on your brain.

Under discussion:

Son of Rambow  (2007)

An isolated child and victim of bullying, a young British boy creates the Son of Rambow in his head and is encouraged to put his vision on film.  Unbelievably funny, insanely charming and blissfully irresistible, Son of Rambow will make you smile, reminisce and live your childhood again. 

Will Proudfoot (Bill Milner), pure, innocent, and adorable, has been segregated from the rest of 1980’s British society as a member of the strict religious group The Brethren.  The Bretheren have strict rules, one of which is a ban on any T.V. viewing.  When hiding at another boy’s house Will is exposed to a pirated version of Rambo: First Blood, the Son of Rambow, an ass kicking child hero, is born.  The class bully, Lee Carter (Will Poulter), sees Will’s Son of Rambow doodles and encourages him to make it into a movie.  A French exchange student (Jules Sitruk) shakes up the school and the lives of both Lee and Will.  Much hilarity ensues, child antics, funny stunts and hilarious recreations of Rambo scenes are aplenty.

Have you ever watched children in a playground, their imaginations as real to them as the grass they are rolling on.  Sometimes, if they are truly in the moment, their descriptions are so vivid, even an adult can find themselves frolicking with that child.  The Son of Rambow made me feel like I was dancing wildly through a child’s imagination.

Garth Jennings, the writer and the director, has a brilliant insight into a child’s mind and its beauty.  Jennings either has children or has not forgotten what it was like to be a child.  There are scenes where a child’s inability to make rational decisions gets him in trouble, scenes where they forget their limits, scenes where what is important to a child is obviously different than that of an adult, scenes where the characters need a hug, and scenes where they so freakin’ cute you just want to pinch their cheeks. 

Some of my favorite parts of Son of Rambow are when Will disappears into his imagination and outrageous animations or other cinematic styles take over.   The animation is often based on his sketches, so the animated scenes run from childish to childlike but are always entertaining.

Look out for when the kids start filming Son of Rambow.  I nearly wet my pants.  I literally had to cross my legs to prevent any drainage.  The scenes are so ridiculous and zany, but appropriate to a child.  Where else can you get a flying dog taking out a science teacher at a British elementary school?  I think you’ll find other options for that scenario lacking.

Children often make great scene stealers but can’t pull off the weight of a lead actor part.  Bill Milner, with his skinny little knees and captivating freckles, steals every one of his scenes and handles the spotlight with hilarious levity.  I wish I could bottle Milner’s charm to use at my own disposal.  It is hard to think of a sweet Rambo knock off but Milner, as Will, does just that. 

Lee Carter is a complicated character, bullies usually are deeper than they seem.  Will Poulter is able to pull off the emotional complexities, with only the occasional flinch.  Poulter saves the day at the end of the movie though, his rich, sincere emotions made the insides of my glasses fog up.

The Son of Rambow is a British rib tickler with moments of true brilliance.  I advise avoid drinking before seeing Son of Rambow because I promise, man or woman, you’ll be laughing hard enough your bladder will become an issue. 

Under discussion:

Horton Hears a Who  (2008)

Horton Hears a Who is the animated cinematic adaptation of Dr. Seuss’ universally loved book about an elephant who believes people are people, no matter how small.  With the exception of the actor who plays the main character, Horton Hears a Who is a touching film with real heart. 

While teaching his small jungle students on day, Horton (Jim Carrey) hears what can best be explained as a small voice floating through the air.  He realizes it is coming from a speck, at the mercy of the wind.  With great care Horton catches the speck on a clover.  With a little ingenuity, Horton is able to communicate with the mayor of the Whos, the people on the speck.  When the crusty know it all Kangaroo (Carol Burnett) finds out about Horton’s “discovery” she is quick to insult and berate him.  Undeterred, Horton sets off on a quest to save the people on the speck from his world. 

Writers Ken Daurio and Cinco Paul, wrote Horton a quirky sincerity that is both tender and humorous.  Jim Carrey takes that sincerity and puts it through a cheese grinder.  His performance was noticeably unnatural and often pathetic.  He and his dialogue seem to be constant tug of war over Horton.  The animators didn’t do anything to solve the problem, often wavering between the directors’ and Carrey’s Horton with animation that sometimes feel like it is based on a Carrey expression and sometimes completely absent of his influence.  I started to loathe when Horton was talking. 

When the visuals, writing and acting work against each other, there is only the director to blame, without question.  The directors, Jimmy Hayward and Steve Martino , are responsible for the continuity of his film.  Jimmy Hayward and Steve Martino better show up for their noodle-lashing because their inability to properly direct this aspect of the film seriously damages the feeling of the movie.

The supporting cast of Horton Hears a Who far outshines the main character.  Flawless, sparkling performances by Steve Carell as the Mayor of Whoville and Carol Burnett as the cantankerous Kangaroo put a thespian shine on this story.  Carell was Whotastic as he gives such believable life to such a unbelievable looking character.  Carol Burnett really gives Kangaroo a creepy essence but doesn’t make her too frightening for small children nor too simplistic or annoying for the adults in the audience.

The animation in Horton Hears a Who is so crisp, clear and beautiful it made me feel like I was wandering through the wilds of my imagination.  Backgrounds, foregrounds and dimensional renderings that would make many video game developers jealous, ease the audience into a magical world of the slightly off familiar.  There are rich textures on the walls of the Mayor of Whoville’s home.  The depth of field in the forest made the chase scenes treacherous and exciting.  Much to their credit, though, the animators didn’t go so far into the realistic as to rub the shine off the essential magic required to slip deeply into the Jungle of Nool or Whoville. 

The characters are so lively you feel like you are living in the moment with them.  Knowing how to animate creatures that are both in our world and in their world as well as completely new creatures must require strength of imagination I could only enjoy as an audience member. 

There is a subtle message running through the plot about questioning authority.  Kangaroo is the self appointed leader of the Jungle of Nool.  When she realizes Horton’s speck challenges all the long held beliefs of Jungle leadership she refuses to ignore it as an eccentricity and instead decides his belief must be publically annihilated.  It would be impossible not to draw the conclusion that Kangaroo is a symbol of the harmful effects of established religion or the overreaching danger of an unchecked government.  To this I say, HORRAY!  Teaching children to think for themselves and to be a good person even when it is hard or unpopular, that’s a moral I can get behind!

Even though there is an obvious taffy pulling going on with Horton’s direction, Horton Hears a Who’s supporting cast, the writing, the moral and animation is strong enough to make it an utterly lovable movie for Seuss fans of all age. 

Under discussion:

Nanking  (2007)

Nanking

The Raping of Nanking isn’t a figure of speech to the people in Nanking.   Narrated by actors but made of primarily of firsthand accounts by survivors of the Nanking atrocities, Nanking is bound to educate, enlighten and horrify.

In 1937, long before the Americans entered World War Two, the Japanese invaded China.  They bombed most of Nanking.  The rich people fled like rats from a fire, leaving the poor and infirmed to fend for themselves.  Missionaries from all over the white world decided to stay during the attack to provide a refuge and place for medicine, food and shelter to those people left behind.  They started a safe zone in hopes the Japanese would respect it and the poor people of Nanking would be safe.  They did not.  It is estimated during that time that 20 thousand rapes occurred in less than six weeks and 200 thousand people were killed in the same time.  Many of the murders and rapes were done in front of family members in particularly brutal fashion.   Days turned into months and the torment didn’t stop.

Nanking is framed by the stories real life of missionaries and business people of the west who were living in the Chinese city of Nanking at the time of the Chinese invasion.  Their letters, often downright poetic, describe in detail what they witnessed as third party observers.  Hope dwindles into fear and finally into raw accountings of stories, their own and those passed to them. 

Real life survivors of the invasion of Nanking, now in the last stages of their lives, recount their stories.  Their tales range from frightening to the downright obscene.  Often their circumstances forced them to make unimaginable choices to survive unbelievable horrors.   As disturbing as the graphic descriptions of the tormented is the unnerving laughter of the torturers as they recalled, in monstrously callous detail, what, how and why they did what they did.  There is also footage from that runs through most of the movie.

Nanking moved me to anger in ways no film since The Last Days (a survivors recounting of the Hungarian Jew’s holocaust stories.)  One of the stories is of a little boy whose mother gets stabbed by a Japanese bayonet, entirely through her body while she was breast feeding her other son.   There are innumerous horrors that happen to the family as the mother returns the baby to her breast and continues to suckle the baby a meal of milk and blood.  The man telling the story nearly falls apart, breaking into unabashed weeping as he barely gets the words out, preserving his story.   

Another shocking twist to this story is the Nazi hero.  How backwards does the world have to be when one of the most heroic people in the lives of these victims is the local Nazi?  With nothing more than his white skin and swastika, John Rabe (Letters Narrated by Jürgen Prochnow), a Nazi business man, kept waves of Japanese soldiers away from innocent civilians and out of his house. 

Minnie Vautrin, elegantly portrayed by Mariel Hemingway, a proper Christian lady, stood up to throngs of Japanese soldiers protecting her girls from rape, death and being raped to death.  Look to her to find strength when she should fold and love when hate should run free. 

It would be easy after watching this movie to have a strong racist hate against Japanese people.  The brutal truth is that the take away is not that the Japanese are bad, even though what they did was unforgivable, but that we as a people cannot ask soldiers to be discriminating monsters; if we leave them with no supervision or accountability and they will undoubtedly act like monsters.  We, as a globe, must learn when you turn off the taboo of killing; it does not go quietly or alone.  We either accept the raping and killing which is evident in all wars, or we find a different way.

Nanking made me and my audience mates, men and women alike, weep and tremble.  It taught me about current events, specifically why Chinese people still demand apologies from the Japanese and why their relationship is still strained.  Mostly though, it reminded me why being a person of convenient principle is as bad as being a person of no principle at all.

Under discussion:

The Golden Compass  (2007)

Set in an alternate universe where souls live outside the body as demons, The Golden Compass is no children’s movie.  Graphic violence, beautiful special effects and dark, rich plot lines are far too dark for a child.

Lyra Belacqua (Dakota Blue Richards) is sent off by her uncle to a boarding school.  While she is there she runs amuck, lying and creating general mischief with her friend Roger (Ben Walker), until he is kidnapped.  Her uncle, Lord Asriel (Daniel Craig) raises eyebrows when he bucks the Magisterium, the religious authority in their world, and sets off to study a forbidden substance, Dust.  So enraged by the fact that he would commit serious acts of heresy, the Magisterium sends Marisa Coulter (Nicole Kidman) to collect Lyra and keep an eye on her while they hunt her uncle.  What the Magisterium doesn’t know is Lyra has the last Alethiometer, a truth telling device.  Lyra meets an ice bear named Iorek Byrnison (Ian McKellen) and an aeronaut Lee Scoresby (Sam Elliott).

A myriad of “A” list celebrities speckle the cast.  Rich and powerful voices like Ian McKellen give characters like a giant ice bear breath and humanity.  Nicole Kidman gives her character brooding intensity.  Sam Elliot brings his typical rough and tumble attitude to his character.  Daniel Craig, whose role is fairly minimal, is tough but intelligent.  Even new comer Ben Walker is downright adorable.

The only actor whose performance doesn’t add to the believability and sparkle is Dakota Blue Richards.  I realize her character is supposed to be extremely, well, extreme but the acting doesn’t have to so obvious.  She is a child, a cute one granted, but when you cast the main character, they have to be strong, even if it is a child’s role.    Richards does not make me want to slice my eyes open with a butter knife but her acting couldn’t be considered a hot knife through butter either.

The animated scenes range from dull right on through to jaw dropping beauty.  Lyra’s demon is a magical character whose shape transitions from creature to creature, reflecting the emotion and tension of the moment.  The scenery is outstanding.  The ice bear loafs and fights wonderfully.  There is one glaring exception to the beauty of The Golden Compass, Marisa Coulter’s demon.   Watch for him to disappoint you.

The Golden Compass is less a smooth linear storyline and more a collection of stories and adventures that get the audience where they are supposed to be.  Reminiscent of old fashioned adventure movie storytelling, The Golden Compass is a far choppier experience than I enjoy.

The Golden Compass has serious graphic violence.  None of the violence is bloody but it is shocking.  There was a scene, I won’t ruin for you, that left the entire audience eyebrows furrowed, mouth open and pressed up against the back of their seat.  The themes of the movie are far too complex for a small child to understand.  I would recommend you don’t bring any child younger than twelve years old to see this movie and if they are around that age, make sure they are mature enough to handle the violence in a medieval war movie without blood.

The meat of The Golden Compass is the power of the truth against the power of an established greed, and how children seem more able to see the truth.  The Magisterium tries everything it can to keep power, even as far as to kill innocent children.  They try to close institutions of learning.  Their reach is long and their grasp tight but like any greedy person who tries to hold the sand of power too tightly, the sand slips between their fingers and free thinkers pop out.

I did love the message of the movie.  It made eyes sparkle with righteous pride.  As a devout free-thinking atheist, any movie that shows the downright power hungry nature of established religion gets extra bonus points from me. 

My feelings are mixed when it comes to The Golden Compass.  I love the themes, most of the graphics and the acting in general.  It’s the rough edges, fragmented storytelling and awkward ending that chaffed my skin.  Even though a small amount of Vaseline could be necessary, The Golden Compass won’t rub you raw.

Under discussion:

No Country for Old Men  (2007)

No Country for Old Men introduces us to ruthless killer Anton Chigurh and his gruesome air gun.   A fascinating murder, phenomenal writing, and obvious attention to the visual details, No Country for Old Men is a truly adult horror drama.

Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem) is hired to go after Llewelyn Moss (Josh Brolin) when Moss stumbles across, and steals, two million dollars in drug money.  Sherriff Ed Tom Bell (Tommy Lee Jones) follows Chigurh across Texas, trying to stop the killing.  Chigurh’s demented nobility makes him ruthless in his pursuit.  Moss’s greed makes him desperate to hang on to the money.  Sherriff Bell always seems to be one step behind.

The story is simple, but the execution is bold, in your face, and captivating.  The characters are simple and uncomplicated but not feeble.  They remind me of modern design; the beauty is in the simplicity.  You don’t have to spend much time wondering what a character is going to do, you’ve pretty much figured it out in the first ten minutes but unlike most movies, who have overly easy to understand characters, No Country for Old Men’s cinematic execution and dialogue make the movie impossible to pull your eyes from.

The dialogue was, by far, my favorite part of the movie.  Lines like, “That’s very linear of you.” or “What are we going to put in the APB?  A man who has recently drunk milk?” and “I’ve seen near everything, I work at Wal-Mart.” are the core of the movie.  None of the lines are written as jokes and yet in their context are funny because they are perfectly reflective of the helplessness, ignorance or strangeness of the character, or their situation.   No Country for Old Men’s dialogue helps frame the simplicity of the characters but gives the movie its distinctive edge.

No Country for Old Men has what seems an endless number of visual splendors and oozed slummy Texan from its celluloid.  The filming style is dank and a little gritty, and there is special attention to framing.  The true brilliance of the visuals was the numerous times cinematographer Roger Deakins and directors Joel and Ethan Coen use depth of field in the shooting.  Characters are often in the fore and background instead of face to face, making the space feel larger or more sinister.  They also captured the ick of Texas.

I actually lived in the slums of Texas for a time when I was a child and I was constantly amazed at how the set dressers and set creators made such perfect representations of the depraved decorating, and hideous attempts at prettifying one’s personal property.  I swear No Country for Old Men took me to every Texan slum and trailer my mother took me to.

Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem) is one of the most original murderers on film in a decade.  He isn’t ridiculously smart or monumentally wild.  His distorted nobility and honed ruthlessness is what makes him a menace.  He kills in a unique way, a feat unto itself.  He is best described as creepifyin’.

No Country for Old Men didn’t hold back on the pints of blood in the murder scenes, so don’t take grandma to see it but if you want a great date movie or if you love horror that is based in reality, see No Country for Old Men.

Under discussion:

American Gangster  (2007)

Set in the 1970’s, American Gangster is based on true story of Frank Lucas, New York’s brilliant and terrifying mobster and the police officer who chased him.  Gritty acting and writing give depth to archetypal characters.  

Frank Lucas (Denzel Washington) earns his bones as a ruthless enforcer and collector in a New York.  When his boss dies Lucas assumes the leadership role of his own crime syndicate made up almost entirely of his family.  Ingeniously he figures out a way to bring a better drug product onto the streets for less money.  This sends other criminal groups into a nosedive and puts a target on Lucas’ back.  Officer Richie Roberts (Russell Crowe) tries to figure out who this new drug kingpin is, where he came from and sacrifices everything to bring Lucas down.  Less dangerous than the criminals he is tracking are the dirty cops in league with the criminals.

Frank Lucas comes to bloody life in American Gangster when Denzel Washington slips into the persona of the vicious outlaw.  His ferocious frenzies are stunning, his vehement brutal bloodshed is fascinating and frightening.  Denzel’s perfectly erect posture, calm visceral acts of rage, and controlled frenzied made me fall head over heals in love with bad Denzel.  Even his tender moments with his wife, Eva (Lymari Nadal) are captivating. 

The supporting cast of American Gangster has their own moments of illuminating brilliance.  Ruby Dee, who plays Mama Lucas, steals the focus from any actor unlucky enough to share the scene with her.    She brings a sage radiance and wise femininity to each of her scenes.  Josh Brolin brings a deep smarmification and infuriating corruption to Dirty Detective Trupo.  Cuba Gooding Jr. is out of control, flamboyant and tragic.  Lymari Nadal’s portrayal of the willfully blind wife and surprisingly fragile woman is endearing and frustrating. 

The one exception to the exceptional acting phenomenon that is American Gangster is Russell Crowe.  Crowe was like a three legged dog trying to run an agility race with intact champions.  The script calls for countless scenes where Officer Roberts puts himself in situations where he is supposed to be noticeably uncomfortable.   Crowe’s unnatural portrayal of discomfort truly screws the pooch.    He couldn’t even get the more mundane characteristics of his character down.  He was as close to absmizal as humanly possible.   It is a low down, sub basement, dirty shame that Crowe rubbed his thespian excrement all over American Gangster’s richly written script.

Steven Zaillian’s view of the notorious Frank Lucas is scary, fearsome and mesmerizing.   There are no original characters in American Gangster.  We’ve seen most of the characters in different stories, they just had different names.  The fascinating thing about Zailian’s script is the way he crafts the situations to bring out the entire spectrum of each character’s flaws and strengths.  Frank Lucas is more clever business than violence but his attacks are ruthless and unforgettable.  Officer Roberts’ personality isn’t that different than Lucas.  He is shamelessly honest but isn’t afraid to break his knuckles to get what he wants; justice.  Both men are willing to sacrifice everything for business.   

American Gangster is an all around interesting and captivating movie going experience.  The bad apples don’t spoil the barrel for this bio-drama.

Under discussion:

Things We Lost in the Fire  (2007)

Things We Lost in the Fire shows us that life is not fair, bad things happen to good people, good people aren’t always good and bad people aren’t always as bad as we think.  Even though most of the performances are good, Things We Lost in the Fire felt unnatural and at times, even trite. 

Alone, without her now deceased husband Steven (David Duchovny), Audry (Halle Berry) has to begin to rebuild her, and her children’s lives.  She remembers at the last minute, Steven’s drug addicted friend Jerry (Benicio Del Toro) had yet to be invited to the funeral.  After the funeral and after some soul searching, Audry decides to invite Jerry to live in her garage.

I was impressed by how delicately the writer, Allan Loeb, depicted marital intimacies outside of sex.  It honed in on something special my husband and I shared.   It made Steven and Audry more realistic and human than any steamy sex scene action would.  Too bad Loeb couldn’t save the rest of the movie from feeling contrived.

As best I can explain Things We Lost in the Fire is like a puzzle.  The pieces all fit together correctly but there is no clear picture when it is assembled.  Berry, Del Toro, the children, Alexis Llewllyn, who plays daughter Harper, Micah Berry who plays son Dory, all give good performances but they feel like they are acting independent of each other, trying to remember their lines, like actors in a junior high school play.  There is no interrelationship chemistry, no perceivable emotional investment, no soul deep emoting.  It was a topical, well rehearsed characterization of the people they are supposed to be in the film.

If “Most Cuteness in a Supporting Role” were a legitimate voting category in the Academy Awards, and if I were a voting member, Micah Berry and Alexis Llewllyn would be top contenders for the awards.  Who can resists people under 15 with wild and humongous afros and ridiculously adorable eyes that well like puppies begging for some steak.  I know I can’t.  I suspect it will be as difficult for the average audience member, with a soul, to resist their adorability in The Things We Lost in the Fire.

The Things We Lost in the Fire isn’t a waste of film, screaming for a massive warehouse inferno, but it is not going to make audience awash in cinematic sparks.