Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2

Release: Friday, May 5, 2017

[Theater]

Written by: James Gunn

Directed by: James Gunn

One of the things that struck me about the sequel to Guardians of the Galaxy is how obviously the returning cast carry their swagger around. It’s as if they just got done saving the entire galaxy. But has this level of cockiness really been earned? All they needed to do was stop a villain with the personality of a toaster. Forgive me for sounding arrogant here — I haven’t saved any galaxies myself (yet) — but they made it look pretty damn easy.

I have been so on the fence about this movie since it came out. It’s both everything fans wanted from a sequel and not quite enough ironically for the same reason: it’s Volume 1 all over again; yet the law of diminishing returns already seem to be kicking in. You argue there’s a new villain, with new circumstances, but really what we’re talking about here is a parts exchange. The formula is very much the same. Everyone jokes around a lot — too much at times — bickers a lot, procrastinates a lot, and then, just in the nick of time, do some firing of some lasers and engage in some exciting fisticuffs just before end credits usher them off the screen like an acceptance speech on Oscar night.

Vol. 2 backtracks to the source of Peter Quill (Chris Pratt)’s heartache — his mysterious family history. Kurt Russell is in as the powerful Celestial PlanetmanbeardMacReady, a creation that dates back to the early Bronze Age of Marvel Comics. He’s got a proposition for his estranged son, whom he suddenly finds — after millions of years of scouring the Greater Universe — on a cast-off planet to which the Guardians have narrowly escaped after doing a very Guardians-y thing (well, Rocket does a very Rocket-y thing, stealing an important battery thingy from a race of people called the Sovereign, who all look like Shirley Eaton circa Goldfinger).

Russell’s Ego (but really, that’s his actual name and yes he’s also a planet — that part I wasn’t being silly about) tells Peter about his higher calling. But this attempt to rip him away from his custodial services as a Guardian of the freaking Galaxy is poorly conceived. Granted, not by Ego himself, but rather the script, which once again lay at the feet of the one-man wrecking crew James Gunn.

Guardians 3 would have been a much tougher sell should Star Lord have gone to the dark side. (And someone remind me, how did that work out for Tobey Maguire?) We’re well aware of the acrimony that has arisen amongst the crew before, but this isn’t like pondering whether or not we should be concerned about Anakin Skywalker’s hot temper. Gunn doesn’t necessarily force us to draw that exact comparison, but that’s the nature of the father-son dynamic here. It’s old-hat, the suggestion of breaking bad feels awkwardly episodic, and Russell’s utterly forgettable within it.

Elsewhere, the others are sorting through relationship issues of their own. It’s like a soapy space opera. Gamora (Zoe Saldana) is confronted with her own guilt when she’s forced to spend more time with her psycho sister Nebula (Karen Gillan, wooden as she’s ever been). Drax the Destroyer (Dave Bautista) is still the least subtle thing since Donald Trump, yet he’s actually endearing with his sledgehammer, awkward commentary. He cuts through the crap we humanoids generally like to call social etiquette like a combine harvester, especially when he strikes up a friendly rapport with Ego’s bug-eyed personal assistant Mantis (Pom Klementieff).

Where Vol. 2 does manage to find separation, however, is in the exploration and comparison of Rocket (Bradley Cooper) and Yondu (Michael Rooker)’s criminal pasts. As the film expands and fractures the foursome into their own little thematic camps, it’s the insight we get into the lonely life of a space-bound raccoon and Yondu’s fall from grace that really hits a nerve. There’s legitimate gravitas attached to their character arcs, something a film as outwardly flamboyant and noisy as a Guardians of the Galaxy installment kinda-sorta needs more of.

The production design remains as elaborate as anything Marvel has created before. In fact, it’s dazzling to the point of eyeball overload. But of all the problems this new and underwhelming iteration has, that’s at least a good one. The cosmic wonders of the universe work overtime to compensate for another lacking story. Overcompensatory is a fairly accurate way to describe the characters this time around as well. Baby Groot is cute, we get it. Drax doesn’t get the art of subtlety. We understood as much within the first ten minutes of his first appearance. Amusing, but one-note. Also, Gamora and Quill continue to act like magnets when you try to put the wrong ends together.

Vol. 2 is of course not a bad film. That’s ridiculous. In fact it inherits many of the qualities that made its predecessor an enjoyable and endearing farcical adventure. The characters are well-established and unique, only they’ve lost some of that novelty and a few limitations might already be on display. The cast-director chemistry is as palpable as ever. Listen, they’re all good vibes, but let’s hope the next mixtape is more inspired and has more memorable hits.

Recommendation: More of the same, for better as well as for worse, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 I believe has done just fine without my recommendation. Hasn’t it made a trillion dollars at the box office by now? 

Rated: PG-13

Running Time: 136 mins.

Quoted: “He may have been your father, Quill, but he wasn’t your daddy.” 

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Photo credits: http://www.impawards.com; http://www.imdb.com 

Because Oscar Said So: Best Supporting Actor Nominees

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Because Oscar Said So (B.O.S.S. for short) is yet another first for this blog. In years past I haven’t spent much time going into detail about the major categories recognized at the Oscars ceremony, particularly the official selections as quite often I find myself at odds with the Academy’s choices. Longtime readers of the site know that I like to take matters into my own hands by putting together a mock awards ceremony, a post in which I overwhelm my poor readers with my ramblings on break down several different aspects of the year in film. If you’ve yet to come across The Digibread Awards, you can click here to find out what’s up with all of that.

When it comes to my reaction to the official recognition of achievement in the acting categories, this year has been a little different as I’ve found myself agreeing with an unusually high percentage of the names that have made the Oscar’s shortlist, and now I would like to offer some thoughts on the subject; hence, B.O.S.S. This two-part post shall manifest as Thomas J’s coverage of outstanding achievements in a supporting role for the year 2015. Why the supporting roles, you ask? Great question.

While I made a concerted effort to see as many films as I could where the odds of making an appearance at the Oscars in February were very much in their favor, I wasn’t entirely successful and therefore I can’t comment on every lead performance that’s been nominated. (Missing from my list is Charlotte Rampling’s Kate Mercer in 45 Years, and Brie Larson’s “Ma” in Room.) That’s a major motivation to look to other categories.Michael B. Jordan and Sylvester Stallone in 'Creed'

Secondly, I find the supporting role category needs a stronger cheering section. There’s almost no comparison between the amount of recognition headlining names get versus those of supporting players. And yet, when it comes right down to it, preparation for each type of role is far more comparable — particularly when supporting parts become so substantial that the line between ‘lead’ and ‘support’ begins to truly blur. However, with prestigious lists like the ones we have this year, perhaps the tide is slowly changing. Names like Christian Bale, Tom Hardy and Sylvester Stallone are so large you’d be forgiven for assuming these are the film’s major stars . . but in these cases, they are indeed taking a backseat to other talent, or at the very least they’re willing to share the spotlight. The relative humility is refreshing.

Basic (read: compulsory or less memorable) supporting roles offer, if nothing else, structure to a given story. Strong support affords emotional balance (or occasionally the lack thereof) and perspective; superior actors know how to interact with more prominent characters, while lending both depth to the environment (be it fictitious or real) and credibility to the story being told. Fulfilling a supporting role doesn’t necessarily mean one has an easier task ahead of them than a lead, though. Often it can be a thankless proposition, with a variety of factors playing host to challenges both large and small, including, but certainly not limited to significant physical, emotional and psychological transformations. Actors take on these assignments and the research necessary to bring the characters to life, all while knowing they’re not going to be receiving the level of attention some of their colleagues undoubtedly will.

Rare are the productions that don’t require supporting parts to occupy screen space in some way, shape or form; only two films come to mind in the past several years (that I’ve reviewed, anyway) in which a single actor was called upon to carry the entire film. Those films, Locke and All is Lost, are rare exceptions — low budget but ultimately high risk productions. But if done well, these can be incredibly effective.

When it comes to this crop of nominees, there seems to be a movement towards bigger, stronger, more popular casting and films like Adam McKay’s The Big Short and Alejandro González Iñárritu’s The Revenant — the former a dramatic comedy centered around the collapse of the housing and credit bubble of 2008, the latter a brooding take on life on the frontier in 19th century America — epitomize star-studded casts.

Mark Ruffalo as Michael Rezendes in 'Spotlight'

Christian Bale has been selected for his contributions to the energetic but awkward financial flick, playing hedge fund manager Michael Burry, who is one of the first to point out the instability of subprime mortgage loans circa 2005. The role is a completely different beast for Bale who has spent a lifetime putting on dramatic disguises and turning in powerful performance after powerful performance. He’s nearly unrecognizable in  a role this casual; the portrayal of a man who prefers to listen to death metal while at work, and parading around the office without shoes on.

Tom Hardy (who happens to be the star of that one-man road show Locke), on the other hand, cranks up the intensity with his portrayal of 19th Century fur trapper John Fitzgerald. He manifests as The Revenant‘s primary antagonist and conveys open hostility from the word ‘go.’ The man is ferocious in a film that demands a lot from its actors. In fact he’s so good the Academy likely is going to find a way to deny Leo once more, stripping him of the Best Leading Actor trophy and bestowing it upon the native Londoner. It would be a move that would surprise very few.

Sylvester Stallone makes a triumphant return to glory, reinvesting in his iconic Rocky Balboa but this time with an entirely different energy and sense of purpose. Here’s a supporting role that has already garnered a Golden Globe and a global standing ovation for the Rocky we have come to know and love has matured into his latter years with uncommon grace, providing a mentor figure that most sports films require, only this one is far more believable than any other that have come before. I suppose it helps that Stallone has lost none of his imposing physique. Sure, he’s older but the guy is still a massive screen presence and the material surrounding him elevates a performance with gravitas already built in.

There are quieter, more humbled performances lying in wait this year as well. Mark Ruffalo and Mark Rylance turn in tremendous work with their respective contributions to fact-based stories Spotlight and Bridge of Spies. Whereas the former focused on the troubling investigation into the molestation of children at the hands of Boston-area priests, the latter finds Steven Spielberg once more tapping into the history books as a source of inspiration. Spies revolves around the tensions between American and Russian diplomacy, when a suspected Communist spy is arrested in New York only to be represented by insurance lawyer James Donovan (Tom Hanks); meanwhile, an American pilot is downed over Russian soil, leading to a protracted set of negations and creating a drama that resembles a high-stakes chess match.

Of all the nominees this year it’s Ruffalo who is most likely to go home empty-handed this year as in my opinion his work isn’t all that distinguishable from his co-stars — and that’s a very, very good thing. His Michael Rezendes, a contributing reporter to the Boston Globe’s Spotlight team, epitomizes actors sharing in the burden of absorbing an information-dense and conceptually rich script. The work from the others (Michael Keaton, John Slattery, Rachel McAdams, Liev Schreiber, Brian d’Arcy James) is just as outstanding, and it seems odd to single out any of the actors if the entire cast can’t take the stage in February. (Of course, I realize the fantasy of that argument. The Academy isn’t exactly fair.)

Rylance is subtle and graceful as the suspected Communist, casting a shadow that’s nearly as long as that of the legendary Tom Hanks. He’s not too shabby for an actor who has worked most of his life in theater, and this relative break-out performance is one not to be missed by anyone who has typically got along well with the Spielbergian brand. Never mind the fact political movies always seem to curry favor with critics, it’s quite possible we have a  dark horse in our midst with his restrained, brilliantly nuanced performance. Sweating over whether he’s a lock seems to be both a waste of time and energy, though. Would it help?

Ultimately the call isn’t mine to make. It isn’t up to any of us to decide; it’s up to whoever happens to be announcing the winner on stage in the Dolby Theater. And for anyone watching on, we just have to trust that the name that echoes throughout that auditorium, is the same name that’s written on the index card. Sure, the popular vote counts for a lot, but if it has taken Leo this long to get to a place where he seems like a shoe-in for Best Actor in a Leading Role, I’m prepared for all kinds of surprises. The argument that the Oscars are rigged is a bit overblown but there’s no doubt the politicization of the whole thing is very much a reality we have to deal with. Who really ought to go home with the trophy? That’s another great question, to which I can only respond: it’s whoever’s name gets called on that fateful night.

Mark Rylance as Rudolf Abel in 'Bridge of Spies'

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Creed

Creed movie poster

Release: Wednesday, November 25, 2015

[Theater]

Written by: Ryan Coogler; Aaron Covington

Directed by: Ryan Coogler

Perhaps it’s the fact that Creed feels more akin to a warm family reunion than a cold cash grab that unnecessarily extends a beloved boxing franchise that has allowed it to curry favor with both critics and audiences alike. The end product certainly doesn’t stand on shaky legs, with early responses seeming to indicate this could be a Dark Horse for Best Picture next February.

Underdog story manifests as a reunion in more ways than one, throwing on-the-rise actor Michael B. Jordan back into Ryan Coogler’s ring for the second time following their collaboration on 2013’s emotional gut punch Fruitvale Station. Meanwhile, an aging Sly returns to Mighty Mick’s Gym for the first time since he abandoned his responsibility to maintain it; it also re-teams Jordan with his The Wire co-star Woody Harris, who plays Tony “Little Duke” Evers, one of the young boxer’s many assistant trainers. Needless to say, Creed benefits greatly from the coziness of familiarity.

This is the tale of the rise of Adonis Johnson, illegitimate son of the legendary Apollo Creed. He adopts his mother Mary Anne Johnson’s last name early in the film even after (or perhaps due to) learning that his father lost his life in the ring at the hands of Soviet brute Ivan Drago. Donnie’s introduced as a rather angry child with a knack for getting into fist fights.

We flash forward to the present where a muscular Jordan is preparing for a brawl in a hole-in-the-wall Mexican arena. He holds down a job at a securities firm in Los Angeles before up and quitting it to pursue boxing full-time, much to the dismay of Mary Anne (Phylicia Rashad). It’s a matter of time before Donnie tracks Rocky down at his Italian restaurant in Philadelphia.

“Train me,” he insists. “No,” Rocky replies.

Then of course Rocky starts training him, scribbling down on a sheet of paper a series of training exercises that Donnie captures on his cell phone for later use. But you know Rocky will be drawn back to the ring, only in a different but no less effective capacity. Coogler builds the relationships in such a way that even all of these potential eye-roll-inducing developments pay great dividends. This is a massively enjoyable film, reminiscent of the pure entertainment value of Ridley Scott’s most recent effort. It remains to be seen how much pull it’s ultimately going to have down the stretch when it finds itself squaring off against the likes of Alejandro González Iñárritu’s upcoming western thriller, critically acclaimed dramas such as Brooklyn and Spotlight or the various other stand-outs from earlier this year.

Its reverence for everything that has come before is both a blessing and a curse. It means newcomers get to share in the experience fans in 1976 reveled in without really having to do any homework. Creed is Rocky VII, that much is obvious, but it also throws so many similar jabs and hooks it’s a stretch to call this a truly original work. There are moments during which we get the sense we’re walking in the shadows of a legend, yet when other sequences beget the euphoric triumphs of Gavin O’Connor’s family feud Warrior, the negatives are somehow easier to shake off. When Rocky warns Donnie that he’s “seen this fight before,” we believe him yet we still have to see it for ourselves; that terrible sinking feeling be damned.

Creed‘s soundtrack thumps with original and familiar beats alike. Its hip hop-heavy focus helps set the feature apart; these songs are all attitude. They represent the spoken portion of Donnie’s near poetic, fully meteoric rise to fame as he soon finds himself taking on the light heavyweight world champion “Pretty” Ricky Conlan (Tony Bellew) in a Liverpool-based match-up for the ages. Tessa Thompson, who inserts herself into the narrative in the form of neighbor-turned-love interest Bianca, a musically-gifted young woman, contributes her voice to a few tracks. She also is a welcomed presence though her character’s career aspirations get lost in the shuffle all too quickly.

And of course this wouldn’t be a complete review without mentioning Stallone returning to these hallowed grounds. The film finds a galvanizing power in his physically broken, emotionally burdened Rocky Balboa. I suppose if Creed stands for anything other than the mesmerizing power of professional boxing it’s the vitality of family, even if that unit has been cobbled together from undesirable (and highly unlikely) circumstance. The most potent conversations take place between trainer and boxer when they have a disagreement over whether or not they’re actually a family at all. Watch Sly struggle to hold back tears as he rattles off the losses he’s experienced in the past.

I wasn’t prepared for the gravitas this unusual acting duo offers up, but that’s what I took home with me after witnessing the reinvigoration of a franchise that once looked to be hanging lifeless on the ropes.

Rocky and his protege atop the steps in front of the Philadelphia Museum of Art

Recommendation: Creed rests on tried-and-true formula but in the process it manages to focus on the emotional power of a legendary character being brought back to life by a possibly never-better Stallone. It finds new life in Jordan’s gung-ho Adonis Creed and I have to admit I wasn’t prepared to be carried so far away from the seat in which I sat over the course of this two-hour journey. The blueprint for future installments has seemingly been laid down. If you’ve been a fan of the Rocky franchise this is a must-see.

Rated: PG-13

Running Time: 133 mins.

Quoted: “This guy right here, that’s the toughest opponent you’re ever going to face. I believe that’s true in the ring and I believe that’s true in life. Now show me something.”

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Photo credits: http://www.impawards.com; http://www.imdb.com

Supermensch: The Legend of Shep Gordon

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Release: Friday, June 6, 2014 (limited)

[Theater]

Shep Gordon. To not know him is to not live. Or love. Possibly both.

The name’s iconic in at least the music and film industries, after the would-be social worker established his reputation as an idiosyncratic, freewheeling talent manager who stumbled into the gig thanks to a comical encounter involving Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix and the generally awkward misperception that Joplin was being assaulted by the musician in broad daylight. Amazingly, the situation never culminated in fisticuffs. Hendrix instead asked if the man was Jewish, which he was. (If that sounds gauche coming from me, I assure you it’s far more amusing hearing this from Shep, who tells everything like it is with only the most massive of grins plastered on his face.)

The second question from Hendrix’s mouth was less personal but far more propitious: whether or not the wide-eyed twentysomething would have any interest in management in the music biz.

“Uh. . .yes?”

The tragically-fated rockstar then pointed an entirely too naive Gordon in the direction of one Alice Cooper.  And thus, off we go on our gallivanting through Mike Myers’ passion project, a tribute to one of the greats of Hollywood — a man who has always been grateful to stand behind the spotlight rather than in it. There’s little he can do now to avoid being front-and-center, though one gets the feeling the debut of this highly entertaining documentary won’t have been the first time Shep’s been left somewhat vulnerable, subjugated to public opinion.

One recurring theme that plays out in Supermensch: The Legend of Shep Gordon is this sense of great respect and courtesy that Gordon has managed to buoy throughout his lengthy and considerably prosperous career. The number and quality of the testimonials alone speak volumes. If he had a Google+ account — which he doesn’t, no one has a use for those things — his friends circle would include the likes of Sly Stallone, Michael Douglas, Willie Nelson, Sharon Stone (well, former-friend anyway. . .they dated for a time in the ’90s, though she never shows for an interview), American restaurateur Emeril Lagasse (you know, the “Bam!!!” guy?), Canadian pop singer Anne Murray (need you any more evidence of the diversity of his work?), among a slew of others which quite obviously include first-time director Mike Myers.

The man is at once incredibly hard-working, horny and wholly fun to be near. Even if the closest you’ll likely ever be able to get is a seat in a theater or your couch at home, have fun trying to resist his charm and his refreshing honesty. He’s a man who loves his women, as many in the film will also attest to. Curiously, though, for all his exhaustive altruism the fact that the closest he’s been to calling himself a family man thus far was by way of looking after four orphaned children following the death of their mother is a reality that’s jarring and somewhat this. Its particularly difficult to reconcile given Shep’s lovable personality, never mind his ability to put others before him on a consistent basis.

But the biggest surprise of all might be his grand revelation towards the end. It’s a bit of info that’s less inherently surprising as it is shocking based on whom is admitting it: “there’s nothing about fame that I’ve ever seen that’s healthy.” This comes from a man who understands life is a privilege, not a waste. From a man who’s spent his cultivating those of others, even if some of those lives ironically ceased to be. Jimmy Hendrix. Janis Joplin. Those two whom he had wrestled around with in a crummy motel parking lot when first arriving in Los Angeles, they were gone well before he could retire. Gone also were many other friends and clients — even intimate relationships he had held were disappearing with an astonishing ease.

Strange, then, that the focus of Gordon’s very first project has managed to pull it together enough to have his commentary featured throughout the film. Simultaneously, there’s a warm feeling of reassurance, that maybe. . .just maybe Gordon really is a true protector. An aging Cooper by comparison seems to be a human being one can actually hang out with, without fear of having a live chicken butchered randomly in front of them based on what he or she said to Mr. Cooper.  (Granted, that stunt was actually all Shep’s idea. . .)

The interviews with Cooper and Gordon on a schooner come across most poignant of all. A non-threatening setting and the passage of time does a lot to expose the real artists for who they are, and this is one of the real treats of Myers’ production. We see not only Gordon, but we see the part of that individual, that groomed personality Gordon has undoubtedly helped shape. Despite the film failing to maintain an even consistency in pacing and possessing an arguably far too limited a runtime for a subject as colorful as Shep Gordon, Myers’ effort deserves applause.

Engaging, entertaining. . . surprisingly emotional. There are a million other ways to describe Supermensch, but these seem to fit the best.

ShepGordon

That is one must-have tee

4-0Recommendation: Informative and often inspirational but not completely free from its own relative cliches, Mike Myers’s foray into directing and documentary filmmaking may have more to offer those who are intimately familiar with this extroverted personality, but it still will resonate quite well with anyone interested in meeting a genuinely nice man whose life story may be more complicated than anything anyone might naturally assume about a man still unwed and without children of his own who, by the way, has spent a lifetime making people rich and famous.

Rated: R

Running Time: 85 mins.

Quoted: “The three most important things a manager does. One: get the money. Two: always remember to get the money. Three: never forget to always remember to get the money.”

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Escape Plan

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Release: Friday, October 18, 2013

[Theater]

What do the Terminator, Jesus, Jurassic Park, 50 Cent and prison break all have in common? The answer: director Mikael Håfström’s beyond-ludicrous Escape Plan.

That may be the weirdest lead-in ever written, but ultimately it’s what you are going to pay for in this latest battle between Hollywood’s biggest brand name actors. Arnie and Sly team up as they try together to break out from the most highly-guarded and technologically advanced Chuck-E-Cheese (a.k.a. prison), with Sly being an expert at jailbreak — it’s sort of his career choice — and Schwarzenegger simply being the help from the inside Stallone will require to break out this time. If there is indeed a plot to this movie, that’s it and that’s as complicated as it gets, too, making the film open for big, dumb and entertaining fights and, not to mention, undoubtedly a whole lot of criticism.

As a sucker for Schwarzenegger schtick (can anyone NOT like the Austrian posed as the sheriff of a sleepy midwestern town, I mean come on!), and a moderate fan of Stallone’s, I have come to semi-defend this movie. But there’s only so much that can be said this time around. Needless to say, Escape Plan is unapologetically over-the-top and is far from taking itself seriously. The story is as loosely structured and simplistic in concept as possible to ensure that most attention and entertainment value is concentrated on the fight scenes, scenes which feature the big guys in even grayer and wrinklier form than when we last saw them. As per the usual formulas of Arnie/Stallone’s movies as of late, dialogue is equally dumbed down.

It was pretty easy to gather all this from trailers, though, so what exactly, if anything, does the Swedish director do here that makes his film appealing, worthy of your ticket purchase?

To be completely honest, there were only slivers of moments in this movie which felt original and which were truly worth seeing the film for, even if you’re only likely to catch it on DVD. (I don’t blame those who are going to pass right on over this, as the film doesn’t have much character.)

If you were to combine the popcorn-n-soda satisfaction of Arnie’s last movie, The Last Stand, with the dark and brooding atmosphere that Stallone likes to skulk about in for most of his (Bullet to the Head being the most recent example) what you would get is this product. Escape Plan, like its main characters, plays things extremely safe and does everything by the book.

A few introductions might help make this film make more sense to you, as well as it might clarify that opening sentence of this review. So. . .first things first. What’s Stallone’s beef this time? As it turns out, his Ray Breslin is one of the foremost authorities on safety standards as it pertains to prison securities. He’s written a book on the matter and has garnered respect for his ability to break out of any prison he’s ever been put into. He works in a tiny agency that is staffed by three others — Amy Ryan (The Office, Dan in Real Life), along with Curtis Jackson/50 Cent, work with Breslin under the supervision of Vincent D’Onofrio’s Lester Clark. (Horrible name, even worse performance.)

Breslin is informed of one last assignment he could take up; entering and then attempting to break out of a prison called “The Tomb,” a facility that is purportedly inescapable. This horrendous place is run by an evil man named Hobbes (played by THE Jim Caviezel from The Passion) who likes to refer to the inmates as “assets,” and who also speaks in quiet, menacing tones. Caviezel, it needs to be said, is actually pretty good in this film and his presence stacks up quite well against that of Stallone’s and Arnie’s.

Of course, when Breslin agrees to undertake this latest challenge. . .things go awry, and soon it becomes clear that his incarceration will be more permanent than anyone previously had hoped. His attempts to be tracked by his agency are quickly exposed and rebuffed by the brutal prison staff. His transportation methods are questionable at best, and seem to go differently than how Breslin had planned them to go. Has he finally taken a job that he can’t get himself out of?

Not before long Breslin comes across a similarly gargantuan, gray-haired man who introduces himself in a thick Austrian accent as Rottmayer. And, if you’re going to make friends in the joint, it may as well be with Mr. Universe, right? The usual tropes come into play as the two start drafting up a plan to bust out — each one sacrifices things for the benefit of the two of them, and so on and so forth — and these trials will inevitably come to involve the efforts of several other inmates along the way.

Reiterating: this by no means is a good film, but the enjoyment is derived purely from the comforts we find in the aging Schwarzenegger and Stallone, who still possess great on-screen chemistry. The affairs surrounding them are as buffoonish as ever, but this particular conceit serves them pretty well on a number of occasions. There are more than a few shamelessly dramatic reaction shots of Arnie and Stallone which caused uproarious laughter in my screening. I believe just this happening alone certifies this movie has done its job.

ESCAPE PLAN

3-0Recommendation: Plan on Escape Plan being the most generic plan ever. If you come in with the most tempered of expectations and an appreciation for supreme cheese, you’ll probably enjoy this movie. Although it does get off to a slow start, it’s exactly what you would expect once Stallone crash lands in what appears to be Schwarzenegger’s stomping grounds. There’s also a good bit of nostalgic value to be had here as well, for any who have been long-time followers of these legendary action stars. 

Rated: R

Running Time: 116 mins.

Quoted: “You hit like a vegetarian!”

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Photo credits: http://www.impawards.com; http://www.imdb.com