The Hunger Games: Mockingjay — Part 1

Posted on November 24, 2014 by Tom

Release: Friday, November 21, 2014

[Theater]

Written by: Peter Craig; Danny Strong

Directed by: Francis Lawrence

Katniss ought to have directed that last arrow at Hollywood’s greedy, deep-pocketed execs. While I will always be a proponent of staying just a little bit longer inside the Hunger Games, it’s hard to ignore the gratuitousness of the decision to split yet another YA novel down the middle as part of a grand send-off of Jennifer Lawrence-sized proportions.

As a watchful and ever-so-slightly marginalized President Snow quietly reminds himself whilst cloaked in sinister shadows, in any game of strategy there are moves and counter-moves. It’s one of those sneeze-and-you-will-miss-it kind of lines in Part 1, but it is curious how poignant a statement that has now become, not just as it relates to the state of the Games but to the (film) franchise itself.

It’s a sentiment that once cruelly downplayed the grotesqueries of young people entering into gladiatorial arenas and killing one another for sport (and for great television). It once served to illuminate how President Snow and the Capitol regarded the people of Panem: movable pawns on a customizable chess board. As the Nazis found, it’s much easier to carry out unspeakable acts upon objects rather than people. Snow reflects upon the move/counter-move theory as he stares out a window into unforgiving bleakness and his disdain for the revolt that is ongoing is entirely too palpable.

Taking it a step further, though: some slick exec in a Hollywood high-rise who stands firmly against the notion that any narrative on film should end as concisely as possible is sure to be doing something similar. He’s combing his hair back, patting a nice white rose into his pocket before drifting off into blissful slumber knowing he’s just made all us lowly Mockingfans pay double for what’s ostensibly going to be one movie. Sure it’s greedy. It’s dirty, filthy greedy. It’s also effective.

Mockingjay — Part 1 opens right before Catching Fire begins. No, I’m just kidding. It follows right on its predecessor’s heels, duh. (Like, seriously — do I need even to include those details at this point?) Katniss is pretty pissed off after the last Quarter Quell, but more so in desperate need of at least one of the two ‘R’s — rest. No relaxation for the impossibly weary, however, as these most uncertain times now demand she rise up and become the beacon of hope her people so need; a physical reminder that Panem is made of more than rubble, stone and materials for the Capitol’s taking. She must manifest as the mockingjay.

The state of Panem can be described with one word: hellish. In the aftermath of Katniss’ most recent act of defiance by taking down the games’ force field, President Snow has retaliated by raining bullets and bombs from the sky upon her District 12, leaving craters and decomposing skeletons where people once stood. Katniss is rescued by a small band of rebels — ah, a reprieve from the horde of faceless sheep heading towards the slaughter — that takes her to a secluded District 13, a sector that the Capitol foolishly believes to have already been wiped from the map.

There, she will be prepped — after she’s convinced by newcomer President Alma Coin, here played by a reliably strong Julianne Moore, that she is the right one to take up their cause and not Peeta, who is now under the direct supervision of Snow in the Capitol — for a new kind of battle. Up until now, young Katniss has had a lot of her youth drained from her thanks to the woes of being in battle against other tributes, all victimized to some degree by President Snow’s desire to see the color red run freely. She’s been fighting within the system. Now, she must fight back against the system, operating entirely outside of structure and class. Under Coin and game-designer-turned-rebel Plutarch Heavensbee (my primary reason for seeing this film)’s wings, Katniss is poised to do some proper growing up. Given her maturity level already, expect exciting things to happen.

Transitional as they may be, these baby steps in the bunker that is District 13 spell out Mockingjay — Part 1‘s raison d’être, and because director Lawrence doesn’t overextend himself in terms of major action set pieces, his latest is every bit as sturdy as what has come before it as we see a major transformation in Katniss’ willpower — both for the better and for the worse. It also may be the darkest of the installments thus far, which, given the totality of the tone heretofore presented, says a certain something about the destination for which we are bound in 2015’s grand finale. It is a much more dialogue-heavy moment in time, a cessation from the brutal onslaught of action Catching Fire offered however, and may take some time to be fully appreciated on those grounds.

Lawrence and Lawrence (sounds like a law firm) are the definite stars of this outing. As director, Francis faces the tall order of coming up with material suitable enough to justify a two-hour film (not an entirely unreasonable runtime even for a stand-alone project) while not revealing his Ace card prematurely. One can’t help but get the feeling this is a slightly padded story at times, though if one also dispenses with the complaints about it not following the formula set up in the previous two films, they are sure to find an enthralling politically-charged war film that sets a pace all its own, and one that refuses to relent.

As for the other Lawrence, Jennifer is on top-form again, and now comes complete with an entirely new get-up in a jet-black Mockingjay uniform, symbolizing heightened tension in her little quarrel with the ideals set forth by Donald Sutherland’s achromatic and totalitarian dictator. Now more than ever, the film rests upon her shoulders, following an already considerably worn-down Katniss into still darker places. A mock-TMZ-like crew of cameras and lighting techs (made up of previous tributes from several other districts) follows her around District 12 and broadcasts their findings to the rest of Panem. The goal? To inspire the populace into action, to ensure the downtrodden that Katniss is the literal and figurative symbol of hope. Once fire has caught, it’s very hard to stop.

And now the fire spreads like never before. What we are presented with here sure appears to be a partial story sandwiched by back-to-back cliffhanger conclusions, but what’s there is more than enough to blaze a furious path to the finish line. For every move there are indeed counter-moves, and if Hollywood suits truly want to milk projects and franchises for all they’re worth, as a global audience we have the responsibility of making our counter-move. I’m not suggesting we protest Part 2. That would be foolish. Rather, I motion for us to continue on living as we have; not so much subservient to the power of Hollywood (as if there was anything we could do to prevent his two-parter, anyway) but rather empowered by our individual choice to indulge in the games once again. At least try to pretend we don’t care that Hollywood ultimately wins every battle. After all, it’d be our loss if we choose not to show up to the theater next November.

Our counter-move should be rising above the silliness of the marketing strategy; it should be not being bothered by the fact we do have to wait another year to see how Katniss takes out that ruthless son-of-a-bitch seated high and mighty in the Capitol. Instead we should find strength in knowing there is still more fight left in her yet.

Recommendation: Marking a notable change in tempo from its previous installments, Mockingjay — Part 1 is hardly without purpose. It lays down a lot of ground for what is sure to be a breathtaking and presumably violent finale, while providing even more color and depth to preexisting characters, as well as introducing a few new faces that help round out an ever-more popular cast. A games-less version of The Hunger Games is still a better movie than a great deal of the stuff being forked out in pairs these days. (Horrible Bosses 2; Independence Day: Forever, anyone?)

Rated: PG-13

Running Time: 123 mins.

Quoted: “Miss Everdeen, it is the things we love most that destroy us.”

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

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

Only God Forgives

Posted on December 1, 2013 by Tom

Release: Friday, July 19, 2013 (limited)

[Netflix]

Ah, but does He forgive a movie like this?

Nicolas Winding Refn and Ryan Gosling again team up to put forth another noir-rich effort that skimps on dialogue — only this time it’s one that has left audiences scratching their heads rather than thoughtfully rubbing their chins.

To be fair, it’s difficult for lightning to strike twice in the same spot. Wait, does it? It’s evident Refn was reaching back again for the same kinds of restrictions on your traditional film delivery that made his 2011 effort such a success. It’s also easy to see why he would try to do such a thing again. The lack of dialogue in his recent movies has been intentionally drawing the focus away from what’s being said and more towards what characters and situations are doing, representing. How they are moving, physically, through a story. Refn has hoped that the same approach would yield even greater results if his technique is utilized to an even more extreme degree. Unfortunately, it doesn’t. Lightning does not hit the same tree twice, it seems.

Only God Forgives features good-looking Gosling as the mysterious Muay-Thai boxing club owner named Julian, an American ex-pat who’s even more inept at conversing than a nun. When his brother Billy (Tom Burke) is brutally murdered, ~~Satan~~ the pair’s mother arrives on the scene in Bangkok, flying in from London to identify whether it is indeed her firstborn’s body or not.

Kristin Scott Thomas is intended to be the film’s most complex character, simultaneously embodying evil as fully as a person can without sprouting horns, while ultimately remaining fiercely defensive of her baby boys. And as generously as I can possibly be in my — nay, any — defense of this film, Thomas delivers quite the performance. She uses her still-living son as bait to try and protect herself from what she knows will be certain, horrible death at the hands of a corrupt vigilante cop, named Chang (Vithaya Pansringarm).

The rest of the characters are intended to be multi-layered as well; however, most of them end up being painted in the same neon blues and reds as the cinematography is bathed in. If you will, let the red represent motivation (revenge) and the blue the cold, hateful attitudes possessed by each character. Julian is virtually wordless, which proves to be nothing but frustrating and next-to-impossible to identify with, while his enemy, Chang is equally hostile, albeit for slightly different reasons. One might be able to understand his quietness more than Julian’s.

Refn renders some of humanity’s darkest moments of depravity using the most minimalist techniques. There’s barely a script because words mean nothing; actions and non-actions are meant to represent the difference between life and death. Long, unbroken shots of people staring are meant to generate tension. While the silence that permeates each and every neon-lit scene will undoubtedly be excruciating to most viewers, its a method Refn deliberately employs to emphasize a third-party presence to these most grim of proceedings.

Despite all of this sounding like its in defense of his new film, these are the best things that can be said about Only God Forgives. There are concepts Refn is reaching for here that he ultimately misses, sometimes just barely, other times by a mile. Instead of tension being built up throughout the movie’s slowgoing, silent periods a thick air of frustration descends, because we have no reference point to anything in the story. The characters are introduced in a confusing manner — despite the film’s scenes being filmed in chronological order — and a severe lack of anything being stated (in words) it’s oftentimes hard to understand what’s happening in a given scene.

In these instances it seems like it would be highly advantageous to be a Mind Reader.

It’s clear Refn is trying to give audiences a challenge here, not only in the fiercely defiant way he’s going against “traditional” storytelling, but in his usage of some seriously graphic violence. And to me, it’s not clear right now whether this film got booed at Cannes because of this factor or its sheer ambiguity. My guess its a combination of both that makes this film a particularly difficult work of art to ‘like,’ necessarily. If Drive was considered polarizing, Only God Forgives is what that film wanted to be when it grew up. Refn seemingly is one-upping himself in terms of what he thinks modern audiences are willing to accept before completely giving up entirely on the prospect. Unfortunately for him, this ends up occurring far earlier than the ending credits.

This film is plagued by several issues, but the one that I could not get over at all was it’s inability to explain anything. Black eyes, broken hearts and corrupted consciences are one thing (look to things like Taken, Saving Private Ryan, and There Will Be Blood for exemplary moments of all three), and then there’s just obnoxious. Only God Forgives and it’s complex story exists somewhere even outside of the latter, as it insists on being as detestable, abstract and anti-establishment as possible for as long as possible. Quite frankly I grew tired of the gimmick halfway through and I sat through the rest in an effort to be as respectful as I could to both director and actor.

The rest is as forgettable as the story is nonsensical, and moreover, uninspired.

Recommendation: Only God Forgives will not cater to any one’s needs — that’s not its purpose for existing. The actual, true purpose? That answer we never arrive at. This is a product best described as experimental. At its worst? Well, there are some choice words I could implement here, but I really would rather not, because. . . well, you already get the idea. A missed opportunity, for sure. The future will be interesting just for the sake of seeing if these two ever make a film together again.

Rated: R (for really, Ryan Gosling? Really?)

Running Time: 89 mins.

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

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

Blue is the Warmest Color

Posted on November 18, 2013 by Tom

Release: Friday, October 25, 2013 (limited)

[Theater]

A film already mired in controversy surrounding it’s director and one of the lead stars, Léa Seydoux, stirs up a conversation I don’t think a great many of us have had at the theaters, perhaps ever. I think that’s because most conversations had when filing out of the exit doors don’t involve primarily talking about the sex scenes. If a movie was good, they’ll be remembering other things about the story, plot, etc, and maybe, yes, if there is a bit of that in there it’s an afterthought; but here is one that has already ignited a strong debate simply over it’s sexual content.

Understandable in some ways.

Blue is the Warmest Color subsists on a healthy diet of passionate (and quite frankly committing) love scenes, ones that become starkly contrasted against moments of suffering, loneliness and heartbreak, as well as anything and everything in between. Throughout this sprawling epic one comes to realize the ultimate circle of an intense love affair. Along with it, all the pains and the pleasures. Feelings on both ends of the spectrum are treated with Abdel Kechiche’s undivided attention. And it’s only fair that we give ours to them.

At the center of what’s being pitched as not your traditional relationship, is the fifteen-year-old Adele, a high school student who appears to distance herself from most people. We don’t at first know what the reasons are for her aloofness, but over time we can tell she is certainly conflicted with getting intimate with another person — in particular, this one guy in her class all her friends are urging her to start talking to. Finding herself practically cornered, Adele ends up sleeping with Samir (Salim Kechiouche), though soon she’ll encounter a blue-haired girl one day at a crosswalk. Her life will be irrevocably changed.

The moments throughout Blue that play out subtly are intentionally kept to a minimum, yet when they do happen they are brilliant. The moment the two find each other’s eyes for the first time is one such pivotal scene, setting the course of the rest of the film.

Perhaps its the fact that this is a foreign production — one that has garnered the supposedly straight actresses and its also-supposedly misogynistic director praise of the highest order at the Cannes Film Festival in the form of Palme d’Ors all around — that gives the proceedings an organic, dramatic feel; a delicate warmth and stone-cold conviction, flourishes that likely could have been stamped out if handled by American filmmakers. One can certainly argue that this film is a style all to Kechiche’s own, though. Whatever that quality might be is difficult to describe exactly, but the emotions contained within this sweeping chronicle of love feel earned rather than just given.

Adele finds herself overwhelmed with desire the night after she first sees her, and this prompts her to go out looking for the woman in night clubs around the area. (An argument for stalking could be made.) When she enters a lesbian club deep into the evening, she finds her again. It is here we get our first impressions of the pair’s on-screen chemistry — intoxicating right from the get-go. The girl’s name is Emma, and as a fourth-year fine arts student, its clear there’s some age difference between the two. Confident, stylish and matured, Emma finds herself also drawn to Adele’s touch. What starts off as a mutual attraction quickly evolves into a torrid love affair, making for some of the most immersive scenes modern filmgoers are likely to ever find.

Some part of me wants to label a couple of these extensive sex scenes as gratuitious. Similar to the way in which slavery is depicted in Steve McQueen’s haunting biopic 12 Years a Slave, the content at times reaches shocking extremes. But this part of me is the part that is awkward and uncomfortable. This is the part of me that doesn’t quite understand the dynamics of these relationships (perhaps relationships at all, for that matter), and since these cumulative 30-ish minutes of sex have been bashed by the gay community as being “clearly sex scenes filmed with heterosexual actresses,” it seems that perhaps even the director himself doesn’t, either. Admittedly there are a few shots that remain in the final cut that seem like they could easily have been done away with in previous edits, but they remain; a time or two the camera lingers on a particular body part for a second or two unnecessarily.

Regardless of one’s personal views, these moments are the reasons why Blue is an inherently controversial post on DSB. They also account for the rumors circulating that those involved in its creation had terrible experiences with it all. It’s a shame, this gray area.

A film that dedicates itself to raw truths about love shouldn’t get drowned out by the news of what goes on behind closed doors. Certainly at this point the controversy far outweighs the product. At least, to certain people it does. However it’s not appropriate for me to really weigh in on that myself, nor would I really be able to. From a filmgoer’s perspective, Blue is the definitive story about love. Forget about things like Titanic and Pearl Harbor — epic love stories tied into historical tragedies for the sake of widening the potential audience. Forget how convincing Anne Hathaway or Rachel McAdams or Julia Roberts is in any rom-com. Forget the classic, timeless fable that is The Princess Bride. Exarchopoulos and Seydoux’s relationship with their audience is about as intimate as the one they share on-screen, and the experience here is greatly improved because of it.

Boasting performances that would seem to transcend what’s required of method actors, Blue is ingenious in its expansive run time because it allows a single relationship to naturally grow and shrink over time, providing us with more than simply a snapshot of life on the big screen, something which most movies don’t have the luxury of affording due to more modest time constraints. This is a film that likes to take its time, sampling and appreciating the little things in life along the way.

Sometimes it’s the little things that end up consuming a great deal of who and what we are.

Recommendation: I find that I simply cannot dish out a perfect rating for this one based on the graphic nature of some of the scenes. This is like asking whether or not I would have given one to The Passion of the Christ (had that story actually been more than just simple torture), given all of its bloodletting. That’s not to say this film is one-dimensional, in fact it’s the furthest from it. But in all good conscience I can’t call what is ostensibly an adult film a “Must See” film. Still, it’s one that a great many filmgoers should see because it features one of the most open and honest relationships ever put to film. I applaud everyone on that, despite the film’s many issues, on and off the set.

Rated: NC-17

Running Time: 187 mins.

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

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

Gravity

Posted on October 4, 2013 by Tom

Release: Friday, October 4, 2013

[Theater]

Whatever you do, don’t let go. . .

You know, when those first trailers hit theaters circa late July, and the last image is of Sandra Bullock in a space suit doing some somersaults against a void punctuated by dots of light, my reaction — along with those of several other moviegoers at the time — was to just start snickering. That one scene really set itself up for parody. Not to mention, the situation seemed just hopeless, ostensibly impossible to conclude. . . happily, anyway.

In short, my first impression of Alfonso Cuarón’s follow-up to Children of Men wasn’t likely the one he intended. However, my chuckling might be mostly blamed on what the trailers did. Make no mistake — the ones for this film are very, very good. But they do only show part of the real terror that you’re about to witness.

It would certainly seem that on the surface (I know, clever right?), Gravity is a very limited concept. A routine mission turns catastrophic from the unintended effects of a Russian-launched missile that destroys several satellites, and sets this particular crew on a collision course with a wall of space debris just above the Earth’s atmosphere. The crew must find a way to survive — however many of them that may be, and however ridiculous the odds are. That is simply the story we’re given. You could describe the film in one breath.

Good thing you’re only going to have that one breath for the endurance of this 90-minute stress test. The premise may be simplistic, but therein lies both the genius and the reward associated with Cuarón’s sci-fi thriller effort. The most basic of situations, flaws, or missteps that we take (and take for granted) here on earth, under the influence of gravity, instead have dramatic and devastating effects and consequences in space.

From the moment the opening shot is established, be prepared to feel weightless and for your stomach to be in knots from the dizzying heights you’re about to experience. Cuarón and his brilliant camera angles thrust you into the black emptiness surrounding our lonely planet, and similar to how J.J. Abrams managed to convince us that we were all floating in space with the Enterprise, he establishes time and place perfectly — which might sound silly considering that space is more or less stripped of any of the rules and regulations we like to govern our daily lives by on Earth.

Nevertheless, you’re there whether you like it or not, immediately drawn into the lives of these astronauts who are on a seemingly routine mission. We hear them going through procedures with the Command Center in Texas as they service the shuttle. George Clooney’s Matt Kowalski zips around in his spacewalk seat-thingy, ever eager to share the stories he’s acquired having spent many a year in the space program. Sandra Bullock’s medical engineer-turned-astronaut by contrast is a little more reserved and nervous on the job. She’s clearly not as accustomed to having the curvature of Earth as the view out her office/bedroom window. And it’s not like one can really blame her. The sheer scale of this film is more epic than any superhero film has pretended to be in recent years.

What does this film more favors than anything is the staggering attention to detail. From the lack of sound when the shuttle and space station get struck with the debris, to the lack of energy Bullock shows having run out of oxygen in her suit; from the way spits of flame react in zero gravity, to the way equipment rips apart like fine fabric — literally every possible consideration is accounted for here. (When you’re done picking up your jaw, try not to leave too much drool on the floor. Someone else is probably going to be sitting there later.)

Such precision applies to more than the tangibles, which, in a movie like this, are crucial in and of themselves. The acting on the part of Sandra Bullock is simply incredible. Her task in this movie is quite a difficult one. Shouldered with conveying the requisite terror and panic that our collective species is intended to feel in these extreme conditions, she also has a personal story to share, and her experience on this mission will entirely change her outlook on the rest of her life.

When fellow survivor Matt Kowalski asks her about her life on Earth — what she might be doing at this very moment otherwise — she explains she had a daughter. Her portrayal as Dr. Ryan Stone is an emotional tour de force for which Bullock should receive the highest of recognitions. (If there’s any justice in the world, she’ll earn Best Actress AND the film’s extraterrestrial elegance will earn Best Visual Effects.)

This is also not to say Clooney doesn’t get a word in edgeways, either. His ramblings are sources of relief when the tension in the air becomes almost unbearable; his timing is perfect. He’s not given the heavy lifting, that much is certain, but Clooney colors up a supporting character that might have fallen completely by the wayside considering what happens to our heroine here. Ed Harris also voices mission control for the very brief moments they are in contact with one another. To me, that casting choice is a little funny since he has all of maybe five minutes of line-reading and is never seen. Still, its yet more evidence of the talent that gravitated towards this project. (Man, I really need to stop with the puns.)

Currently, this is the highest-scoring film I have seen this far in my young filmgoing career that wasn’t A) a documentary; B) an indie film with little-known actors in potential break-out roles; and C) not a historical film steeped in facts and statistics. All the same, it has received near-perfect ratings, and is likely to stand out as one of the most complete, immersive and thoroughly researched stories this year.

Oh, and it’s also not an animated film either. Those also tend to do extremely well considering the levels of creativity that are involved in their construction. Notable achievements such as Pixar’s Toy Story earn perfect marks because of their broad appeal (a G-rating helps) and the novelty of the world in which we are stolen away to. A world in which we do not want to leave. Well, here’s a film in which there’s a world we cannot wait to get back to.

Simply put, Gravity sets a new standard to which all coming sci-fi/space films will be and should be held. The director’s previous film, Children of Men, is widely regarded as a powerful and dystopian commentary on a not-too-distant future on Earth in which humans are no longer able to reproduce. But 2013 sees him offering up his magnum opus. Utilizing the most basic of plots and casting top-tier actors who may never have been better, Cuarón draws remarkable conclusions about the stubborn nature of human survival; the will to go on despite every adversity. It may sound a little hackneyed put that way, but with Cuarón’s vision, you can’t help but be grateful for his wanting us so invested in this new reality, this disconnect from humanity. This world that is at the same time without the world.

Recommendation: If, like me, you chuckled at the previews for this, you need to go ahead and right your wrongs. I’m glad I did. Gravity might be the best film of the year.

Rated: PG-13

Running Time: 91 mins.

Quoted: “How beautiful, the sun shining on the Ganges river. . .”

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

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

Rush

Posted on September 28, 2013 by Tom

Release: Thursday, September 26, 2013

[Theater]

2013 finds Ron Howard operating well within his comfort zone again, returning to construct the definitive racing film.

A gripping, polished and thoughtfully-crafted drama piece, Rush delves into one remarkable season of racing which would ultimately define the careers of two top performers in Formula 1.

Howard and comedy, it would seem, mix about as well as bald race tires on wet pavement (in case that’s not clear, not well). The unnecessary detour we took in 2011 with The Dilemma serves as a painful reminder that sometimes straying from the course carries more risk than reward. But perhaps it’s the fact that the man is coming out of the shadows of that terribly confusing, un-funny film that makes this particular movie such a euphoric experience.

Rush compares the passions of two fierce competitors in 1970s Formula 1 racing. The film is equally an action/drama as much as it is a cleverly constructed biopic; red-headed Richie Cunningham devotes as much time and material to the British playboy James Hunt (here portrayed by a thoroughly entertaining Chris Hemsworth) and the starkly more disciplined and straight-edged Austrian, Niki Lauda (Daniel Brühl), as he does to the critical developments on the racetracks.

I suppose seeing the film on an RPX screen helped bring the story to larger-than-life proportions. But that’s more of the icing on the cake, really. Peter Morgan, who also wrote Frost/Nixon and The Queen, is responsible for us feeling as though we have injected ourselves with extra adrenaline; that we’re trapped inside the claustrophobic cockpits of these exquisite automobiles. The only thing missing is the smell of burning motor oil, the cigars and the expensive perfumes and colognes. Morgan’s brilliant writing provides the sexy cast fully-realized characters that Hemsworth and Brühl simply run away with. (Or drive away with, if that metaphor suits you better.)

In the 70s, perhaps no rivalry was as bitter and as intense as the one dividing Hunt and Lauda, and Howard was keen to prioritize this aspect over the many other intricate details that comprise this project. One of the more compelling reasons to see this film is the simple fact that Howard does his damn research. Time and again he’s proven himself a director who pays attention to the details, no matter how technical the subject matter. In this case anyway, the material is as complicated as anything he’s ever dealt with (the adventures of Jim Lovell and company being a close second), yet you feel completely immersed in a world that is a near perfect-reflection of reality. Those who have come to love Howard’s style also trust in his earnestness.

Arguably the most rewarding aspect of Rush is the replication of the drivers’ less-than-pleasant relationship. Howard realizes its critical we know the personalities before we know their abilities; that we know what motivates each for taking the actions that they take. Consequently, when such decisions are made and certain events transpire, we care that much more for the people involved.

James Hunt bumps into the dark-haired, brusque Austrian racer one afternoon during a Formula 3 event — a lower-level form of the top-end race car circuit — and immediately there is tension between them. From the beginning its clear that Lauda is a technical perfectionist while Hunt enjoys bearing the fruits of his labor. . . and his good looks, of course. He’s the party animal; the one to be spraying a huge bottle of champagne after one race and puking minutes before the next. He’s the one to be bedding women like Olivia Wilde’s Suzy Miller. However, it is Lauda who is consistently described as “a genius in the car,” and given that Lauda’s generally unlikable persona made it more difficult (more like next to impossible) for him to get picked up by a team on his own merits, he has to struggle much harder to get in. Fortunately his efforts eventually pay off and in fact Ferrari signs him to their team.

Hunt’s lack of focus on (read: important) matters off the track results in his lack of sponsorship for the upcoming 1976 season, and though he jokes that all he needs on his car is something about cigarettes and condoms, its clear Hunt knows he’s in trouble.

Howard’s films typically are imbued with historically accuracy, and this one’s certainly no different. He accounts for every last detail surrounding racing as not only a sport, but a culture. A way of survival, even. From Lauda’s mechanical crew looking more than irritated having spent an entire night completely rebuilding his car to his exact specifications, to Hunt failing to attract new sponsors; from the quick, tight shots of the driver inside the car pushing down the pedals and switching gears, to slow-motion shots of the tires spinning in heavy downpours, Rush is almost poetic in its visual beauty and technical prowess. It could be Howard’s most immaculate project yet.

No moment in the film might exemplify the reality of driving for a living better than what happens to Niki Lauda one fateful day in Germany. Infamously referred to as ‘The Graveyard,’ the incredibly harrowing Nürburgring track is responsible for many, many serious accidents, a good number of which have been fatal. On the day of the race, the weather was anything but ideal. Heavy rains and low visibility prompted the incredibly intelligent Lauda to call a meeting in an attempt to boycott the race. Citing unreasonably high danger levels, Lauda was virtually alone in his position, as Hunt (at least in the film) points out that this would likely guarantee his (Lauda’s) win for the season, since cutting out the German Grand Prix would provide everyone else one less racing opportunity to catch up to him in the total points standings.

Later that day, Lauda’s car would be converted into a raging fireball after he overcorrects through a turn which inadvertently pierces the car’s fuel cell. The driver sat in a blistering inferno of over 800 degrees for about sixty seconds, causing irreparable damage to his face and lungs. He would spend roughly a month in the hospital recovering from horrific burns. Howard handles this pivotal moment with all the grace one could ever expect from him, and its really quite the gut-check time for both the other racers and us, the audience. It’s not an easy scene to witness.

This is a pivotal moment not only for the real-life champion, but relative to the film as well. Even if it’s a two-hour affair, this film simply flies by in no time at all. The film following the accident becomes twice as compelling, given the turn-around time for Lauda returning to the sport. Within four weeks, he’s back in the car, much to everyone’s amazement — particularly James Hunt’s. The film begs the question, what exactly separates the will to win versus the will to survive? In sports/careers in which the danger levels are directly proportional to the risks those individuals take, often the two overlap. Winning often means outlasting death. Losing means you played it too safe, or simply weren’t good/fast enough. And with Howard’s visionary style of directing, this is only part of the picture.

More than anything, Rush honors the legends that are Niki Lauda and James Hunt by shedding light on both their personal and professional lives (it doesn’t hurt either that the actors portraying them are strikingly similar in appearance) while never forcing the drama that came with the territory. Indeed, this develops as naturally as Howard’s confidence behind the camera has over a protracted career.

Formula 1 racing certainly approaches the top of the ladder in terms of the danger and the intrigue. Having experienced the United States Grand Prix in 2003 in Indianapolis, I can vouch for both, though fortunately me and my friends did not bear witness to anything near as dramatic as what happened to the formidable Austrian. It’s an interesting thought to entertain to consider what this film might have been like in the hands of anyone else other than those of Hollywood’s favorite ginger-haired director.

Recommendation: Race fans and Ron Howard devotees unite! Rush delivers upon almost everything promised by its enticing trailers, though it lacks a bit in some areas regarding the women who were behind the great drivers. Neither Wilde nor Alexandra Maria Lara (who plays Lauda’s wife, Marlene) are given much time to develop as characters at all. All the same, this is a wholly engaging experience that will have you whiteknuckled for most of its duration, and if you enjoy learning about the subject matter as much as you do witnessing it, this might just be the perfect movie for you. On that note, I fully expect this film to do far better in Europe than in America since the market for Formula 1 is nowhere near as demanding in the States unfortunately.

Rated: R

Running Time: 123 mins.

Quoted: “Don’t go to men who are willing to kill themselves driving in circles looking for normality.”

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

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

Elysium

Posted on August 9, 2013 by Tom

Release: Thursday, August 8, 2013

[Theater]

Having waited for this movie since December at least, I was thoroughly excited walking into the theater last night. Something was also telling me, adding to the excitement: that of all the movies that have come out this year promising to pack a punch and have subsequently caused controversy over whether or not said movies did just so (the biggest elephant in the room wears a red cape), something told me Elysium would rise to the occasion. In the hands of Neill Blomkamp I assumed this one would actually deliver on its promises. Its check mark number four on my Ten Taste Tests post, and its a check mark for rising to the occasion, too. Blomkamp’s follow-up to his 2009 effort may not surpass, but it effectively confirms that his vision is one to trust. This film packs all of the wallop its trailers were suggesting, and is once again brutally dystopian and all but too realistic. . . . in a sci-fi kind of way at least.

Blomkamp once again puts a vast majority of the film’s burden upon the shoulders of a strong central lead — in this case, Matt Damon as Max DeCosta, a formerly troubled youth who’s determined to change his ways (and for the most part, has) and now works on a mechanical line in a factory. He is among the millions who have been left to live (and mostly suffer) on a war-ravaged, poverty-stricken planet Earth, while those who have wealth and power have been evacuated to a floating paradise above the Earth, a white wheel-looking space station named Elysium. On the station incredible technological advances have allowed people to heal impossible wounds, replace DNA and rid themselves of disease and imperfections. Elysium is presided over primarily by the strict enforcer Defense Secretary Delacourt (Jodie Foster) and she epitomizes the culture apparent there.

There is a fantastic wide shot of several ships attempting to dock with Elysium early in the film that haven’t been authorized to do so, and when push comes to shove, Delacourt orders the ships to be destroyed. The moment demonstrates the movie’s breathtakingly large scale and beyond-reasonably impressive CGI, as well as the heavy political overtones (specifically targeting immigration) that Blomkamp has chosen to douse Elysium in.

After a horrible accident at the factory, Max becomes fatally exposed to radiation and is given exactly five days to live. None of this information is coming from an actual doctor, but instead a robot who coldly tells Max to simply sign for the medication he will need and then to take the prescribed amount of medicine before his death. No nuance, no cheering up, no smiles. Just the mechanical truth. In his significantly weakened state, Max is determined to get up to Elysium and find a cure for his poisoning. He seeks out the help of “Spider” (Wagner Moura) who is in charge of sending off ships that are docked on Earth. Through Spider and his team of “surgeons” (?) Max is transformed from human to humanoid and is now charged with retrieving sensitive information from an executive official — the same man Max saw briefly immediately after his accident, a man named John Carlyle (William Fichtner).

The plan is to implant the information into Max’s brain, by literally plugging it into a USB port in his head. This is some wicked cool technology and — yes, okay, a little icky — mostly just badass. However, when Max and his heavily-armed crew take down Carlyle’s incoming ship, they find they can’t decode the information, and find themselves under fire when Delacourt sends her secret hit-man/ruthless murderer Kruger (Sharlto Copley) to deal with them. Max manages to escape but now finds himself the single target of the incredibly powerful Delacourt and her minions. Damn it though if Damon’s humanoid version of Jason Bourne is going to be stopped — the second half of the movie is incredibly fun to watch as a result.

Blomkamp is not quite as careful with his direction here as he was with District 9. Elysium is extremely stylish, grisly violent and provocative in many senses. But in dealing with its bigger themes, this movie is a little clumsy. (I’m not sure if it’s clear enough on what stance the director takes on anti-immigration laws. . . but if I just had to guess, I think he’s opposed to them. . . )

Case in point, Jodie Foster is terrible in this movie, which is a tremendous shock. Her Delacourt is wooden and she forces an awkward accent that is intended to reflect an air of superiority, but it’s more annoying than anything. For that matter, I didn’t much care for Fichtner’s Carlyle, either. He had fewer lines but was still carelessly written as subhuman, intentionally. The dressing up of these pseudo-villains felt awkward and gimmicky, and seemed to water down the movie in terms of its serious tone. Regardless, the majority of the cast is more than capable, and Damon — mostly due to his character going through so much — is very compelling to watch. Copley as Kruger is particularly sadistic and tends to make up for the disappointing Delacourt and others in high command at Elysium — almost to a fault. He gets a little whacked-out cartoonish in the end but the Scottish accent still maintained his ferocity legitimately. Imagine a Die Hard villain on bath salts and you’d get Elysium‘s Kruger.

The film is not completely indistinguishable from District 9, although endless comparisons are probably going to be made between the two dystopian futures — but that’s a really good thing honestly. What Elysium lacks in its intelligence quota, it makes up for in unrelenting action and maintaining a level of tense discomfort that seems unusual for a summer blockbuster. Maybe Elysium is really saved by its rating on that front. If this had been forced into a PG-13 rating, instantly a lot of that intensity would be gone. Regardless, the film has its incredible strengths despite some modest disappointments. No film is perfect, obviously. While I expected to be rooting against Foster’s character, I didn’t expect to root against Foster herself, but hey.

#YOLO

No doubt, this film is not letdown by its trailers. Elysium packs a punch with its raw action and astounding visuals. Its certainly not a drawn-out affair. Clocking in at an hour and thirty-seven minutes effectively compacts a large-scale movie into a small-sized package. When you combine that with quite the satisfying premise of two castes of society divided between the ground and a beautiful space station, you have a strong contender for best action film of the year.

Recommendation: In the words of Team America: World Police, “Matt Daaaayymmaaan…!” But really, he is very good in his role, if not enhanced by his circumstances. Any fan of Damon’s is likely to be bowled over completely, and his supporting cast (minus the decidedly villainous higher-ups) are all solid as well, so if you’re seeking out a blockbuster film with good acting, then go see Oblivi….er, Elysium. It’s about as entertaining as the big budget bad-boys are going to be this summer, rest assured.

Rated: R

Running Time: 97 mins.

Quoted: “This isn’t going to kill me. . .”

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

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

2 Guns

Posted on August 2, 2013 by Tom

Release: Thursday, August 1, 2013

[Theater]

Gleefully tongue-in-cheek, 2 Guns is a mostly-successful buddy-cop action film that delves into the heart of a Mexican drug cartel while revealing surprising truths about the clientele it conducts business with. One could sense the lack of seriousness a mile away with this film. Fortunately, though, one gets exactly what one expects (and pays for) in this humorous account of two crooked trigger fingers, played by Marky-Mark Wahlberg and Denzel Washington as they get caught between the cartel and several nefarious American government officials, including those within the Navy and the CIA.

Wahlberg’s Marcus “Stig” Stigman is a former Naval employee who went AWOL awhile back, and now finds himself “partnered” up alongside the smooth-talking, shady DEA agent Bobby Trench (Washington). The two make a satisfyingly comedic pair, and even when the events surrounding their story include plot holes and cliches galore, one cannot deny that the pairing of Wahlberg with Washington is the main reason you go to see this film from Icelandic director Baltasar Kormákur.

The film, set ostensibly near the Mexican border, opens with the duo planning a bank heist in which they stand to gain something like $3 million in cash. The bank they plan to rob — Tres Cruces Savings & Loan — is situated across from a diner with apparently some of the best donuts you’ll ever eat. Or so Bobby thinks, anyway. However, when the act goes down after some editorial backtracking to bring us all up to speed on what has occurred over the week prior, the two walk away with a hell of a lot more than the $3 mil they were expecting. It turns out they become $43 million richer, but a hot-tempered, rough-and-tumble CIA agent named Earl (Bill Paxton) quickly catches on to the scent of these pseudo-expert bank robbers and soon starts blazing a trail to find them and, presumably, kill them.

One of the main issues with this film is the lack of seriousness in any and all aspects of it. Well, excluding the violence. There are certainly a few moments that are shocking and which don’t seem to fit the bill of a movie that tries to be more light-hearted than dramatic. It is a little difficult to buy into the fact that Stig and Bobby are this good when they shoot their mouths off at each other, as well as several more serious-looking Mexican drug dealers. Aside from Stig’s demonstration of his accuracy (by shooting the heads off of several partially-buried chickens in a backyard — all the while eating a plate of fried chicken, no less), and the same applying to Washington’s character in other contexts, this is a film that insists you wholeheartedly accept these characters based on the actors’ reputations alone. That’s all well and good, except for the final scene where they manage to avoid a torrential downpour of bullets. It’s perhaps one of the most egregious scenes of Hollywood magic, and would make Keanu Reeves in The Matrix look like a newbie in his bullet-dodging scene. Still, it’s best to accept things at face value here and leave it at that.

An appealing aspect of 2 Guns, which may be misconstrued by more bitter critics as being dumb or confusing, is the fact that identities are never really clear virtually until the very end. We are not even sure for half of the time whether Bobby and Stig are working together or working against each other. Their relationship is certainly one of love-hate — perhaps more of the former than of the latter — and is a real treat to watch unfold. The two prove here that they could carry at least another movie together — not a sequel as such, but I’d love to see them pair up again as the leads of a similarly toned movie. They are simply too much fun to watch, and again, this is in spite of the fact that their backdrop is extremely familiar and steeped in cliche.

Paxton makes for a suitably villainous and corrupt CIA agent whose only intent is to reclaim what’s his. Edward James Olmos plays the despicable drug lord Papi Greco; James Marsden as Naval Officer Quince as well as Fred Ward, as Admiral Tuwey, prove that not even the Navy is free of corruption. Unfortunately, by the time you get around to meeting the latter character, the whole business of literally everyone on screen being a crook has become old news and any credibility that was barely established at the beginning is more or less evaporated by the desert heat (and somewhat abecedarian writing). Even the enticing Deb (Paula Patton), the would-be girlfriend of Bobby, turns out to be nothing more than femme fatale. The double-crossing gets to be a little too much, admittedly, but it’s not quite enough to turn the movie from a ‘two guns up’, to ‘two guns down.’

An explosive finish predictably pits mob boss, American government officials (represented of course by Paxton, Marsden and a few others), and the two rogues in Bobby and Stig all together in the ultimate showdown where bullets fly, bodies drop, bulls run rampant and $43 million in cash erupts in one of the funniest “makin’ it rain” sequences I’ve seen in a while. As cliche as it is going to sound, Bobby and Stig indeed stumble off into the desert sunset together, and, well. . . that’s that.

On the whole, this movie is nothing special. It is boosted exponentially by the fun interplay between well-matched leads in Washington and Wahlberg, and although it may sound repetitive saying that, I honestly couldn’t get enough of it. To me, seeing them together was well worth the price of admission. The story line needs little to no explanation (other than a warning notice about all the confusing betrayals and such) since it’s so well-worn and not entirely thought out well. But it’s just enough to justify 2 Guns‘ existence. It may be surprising to think of the fact that this film will be far from anyone’s mind when it comes Oscar season when you consider the star talent on display, but it proves that you need more than just great actors elevating an average script to make a great movie. This one is purely for entertainment purposes only, and I’m quite alright with that.

Recommendation: Come in with low expectations and you’re sure to have a good time. It’s capably acted, decently paced although it plods around a bit in the middle, and the conclusion can be seen coming a mile away, but if all you’re looking for in a movie is a great escape from your real-life drama, be sure to check in on these guys’ movie life drama. I’m sure it’ll be worth it in the end. And honestly, who DOESN’T like Mark Wahlberg. . . ?

Rated: R

Running Time: 109 mins.

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

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

The Way, Way Back

Posted on July 29, 2013 by Tom

Release: Friday, July 5, 2013 (limited)

[Theater]

The screenwriters for The Descendants return to write and direct this incredibly satisfying coming-of-age story about an awkward teen and his adventures at the local water park as he seeks refuge from his painful family life. Nat Faxon and Jim Rash pen another script which has become primarily responsible for winning people over left and right — myself included. Not only do the pair come up with characters who are believable, flesh-and-blood, and, for the most part, easily likable, but they harmonize comedic and dramatic elements just so that the film maintains an equilibrium of being wholly enjoyable from start to finish, without ever becoming too silly or too melodramatic for it’s own good. This is a remarkably good film for first-time directors and their writing abilities do not fail here either.

At the center of attention is Duncan (Liam James) and his struggle to fit in with anyone, even with those in his own family. His mom (Toni Collette) is now seeing a man with whom Duncan frequently butts heads. Trent is practically the antithesis of who we’re used to seeing Steve Carell play, even if we’ve gotten glimpses of his ability to be a complete dolt in previous roles (Michael Scott, anyone?), and more often than not, it is Trent who is making life miserable for Duncan. He asks what Duncan thinks of himself as a person on a scale of 1-10, and when the kid reluctantly responds with “a six,” Trent offers his thoughts: “Well, I think you’re a three.” There are other factors, too. His sister, Steph (Zoe Levin) is a spoiled brat who can’t stand being around Duncan for longer than she has to. His mom is a little more neutral, even though she can never quite get a good read on her son’s mood at times.

Regardless of appearances, and despite the fact that Trent insists on exerting total control over what Duncan “can” and/or “should” do here, this is Duncan’s story, told from his perspective, and we can only look on and silently cheer as he breaks down the barriers and makes his own way in becoming a young adult in spite of the circumstances.

One afternoon Duncan is off biking around trying to forget the latest drama around Trent’s beach house, when he comes across the Water Wizz Waterpark, and decides to explore what’s going on there by entering through an unlocked employee gate. Not long after he bumps into the same guy whom he had run into a day or so before at a pizza parlor, playing Pac Man by himself and rambling on about setting a personal high score. He introduces himself at the water park as Owen, and the two are fast friends. Owen (Sam Rockwell) takes an immediate notice of Duncan’s social anxieties, and aims to fix this as quickly and hilariously as possible.

The second act of the film, then, blossoms into a fun-filled montage of situations in which Duncan sheds his introversion and starts to come into his own. A lot of the process is owed to Rockwell’s wonderful performance as this gregarious park manager. I’ve been a moderate Rockwell fan for awhile, but nothing he’s done so far compares to the energy he emits in this little summer indie. Both Faxon and Rash have lesser but still funny roles as other Water Wizz employees — Rash as a bug-eyed, disillusioned employee who is unfortunately also a germ-o-phobe. It may be argued, though, that Rockwell is the best there is to offer in this film — a beacon of light among other solid performances from this ensemble cast.

What makes The Way, Way Back such an engrossing adventure, aside from Rockwell’s irresistible charm and the brilliant way James carries himself as the awkward teenager, is the secrecy of Duncan’s quasi-employment at the water park. After his first venture out to Water Wizz, Owen offers him a job “cleaning up puke” and doing other related, otherwise unappealing tasks. He commutes back and forth to the park on a hot pink bike, and is able to avoid saying anything about it when Trent and his mom ask where he’s been all day. He’s somewhat successful in keeping this adventure to himself; that is, until he attracts the attention of the girl next door, Susanna (AnnaSophia Robb). Equally awkward and out of sync with what’s going on in the world around her, she is able to extract a few sentences from Duncan each time they meet and this makes for a very sweet and believable relationship, perhaps made even more so because it’s not perfect.

I’ve had a very hard time pinning down the one creative element that made this film destined to become a classic, but maybe that’s just it: imperfection (I’m not talking about behind-the-scenes things like writing/directing/production values, etc). The human relationships — all of them — are all flawed, some in minor ways and others in more obvious and painful ways. One is flawed to a degree that has our protagonist questioning why his mom makes the decisions she makes. Duncan’s relationship with his mother is slightly flawed because he assumes he knows a lot about the goings-on of her life (it becomes clear late in the movie that he doesn’t). He assumes Owen won’t know what he’s going through because he’s just a park manager who seems to be always having fun (fortunately this is also an incorrect assumption). Trent’s neighbor, Betty (Allison Janney) is a fun-loving party-girl. But she’s in her forties and single. The fact that the movie is filled with flaws and wrongdoings makes the overall product ironically perfect. Or at least, something close to it.

On top of that, the movie is set in a beautiful location and the use of a water park makes for some interesting visuals and plot developments. That, and, well. . water slides are the shit.

The Way, Way Back ultimately benefits from a great cast putting on great performances in conjunction with a strong screenplay and interesting setting. I could name at least a dozen coming-of-age tales that have been in varying degrees stimulating enough, but this basically puts on a clinic in terms of showing why that type of story has a place in the film industry. Thanks to Faxon and Rash’s sensitive direction, you can no longer say that these types of films are a dime a dozen. Or maybe you still can, but you cannot include this movie in that category. It is a much more matured film that absolutely deserved its wide release.

It’s ~~hard~~ impossible to imagine this movie not getting any nominations come February 2014.

Recommendation: The Perks of Being A Wallflower of 2013. Even if that’s not my original thought, I love that idea. Both films feature a quiet protagonist who, about halfway through the film, really develops into a lovable, unforgettable (read: young) central character who benefits from the help of his elders. If you loved Perks, this should be what’s next on your list (of indie films, anyway).

Rated: PG-13

Running Time: 103 mins.

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

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

The Wolverine

Posted on July 26, 2013 by Tom

Release: Thursday, July 25, 2013

[Theater]

Picking up more on where we left off after X Men: The Last Stand rather than following directly in line with the most recent release (X Men: Origins — Wolverine), James Mangold directs Hugh Jackman et al with supreme confidence in his knowledge and conviction of the essence of the comics, while also attempting to feed the masses with a broader, more blockbuster-esque appeal — ideally one that should have everyone talking fervently about it afterwards. To an extent this happened after the Thursday screening I attended, though I could sense a mixed atmosphere of excitement and quietened “that could have been better” sentiment.

Maybe it was the late hour at which this showing wrapped up, but I somehow doubt this was the real problem. There was a lack of a punch that I felt might be coming with this latest remodeling of our clawed hero. Or it might have just been one of those punches that comes in hard and then eases up just before greeting your stomach, letting you off the hook as far as taking some real pain is concerned. Mangold seemed to go this route with his directorial touch.

The Wolverine begins with a damn bang. Japan. World War II. The last days are laying waste to the Japanese landscape, and there amidst the chaos is Logan/Wolverine, who has managed to become the next P.O.W.; fortunately he uses his powers to save a camp worker (a man named Yashida) who is debating the merits of dying a noble death (by committing suicide) or letting the ensuing atom bomb devastation do the job. Wolverine intervenes, saves the guy and himself from the blast, and we then see that this has all been a flashback, and a thoroughly gripping one. A strong start to the film.

Unfortunately it was immediately after this where things took a turn to the familiar, and the resultant film pans out to be little more than a hodgepodge of the spirit of the comics — even if it is well-suited and recaptured here — and several nondescript kung fu films, only shot much better and with no funny spoken/translated overdubs. Indeed, there is a lot to like and be easily entertained by in the adventures Logan/Wolverine has when he’s one day summoned back to Japan in order to bid farewell to the ailing man he saved those many years ago. When a bar fight breaks out in an area where Logan is currently holding up in, he meets a young girl named Yukio (Rila Fukushima) who insists he go pay Yashida a visit. We are provided the initial hesitation at first, with Wolverine claiming his home is here, in Canada; but eventually he caves and yields the movie.

Of course, Yashida has more on his mind than just having a pleasant chat with Logan. The head of an international technology developer that specializes in medicinal research, the man whom Wolverine had saved finally tells him that he can “fix” Logan’s immortality. He knows of a way to introduce his amazing healing powers into another person; as if his inability to die is some sort of dormant genetic trait. Yashida gives him the chance to lead a normal, mortal life. Cue Wolverine’s polite “Thanks, but no thanks.”

During the brief time he stays with Yashida he meets his son, Shingen, and his granddaughter Mariko (Tao Okamoto). After a few suspicious events transpire, Wolverine soon finds himself becoming Mariko’s protector, despite her requests to be left alone. No can do, apparently, as the strange but dangerous aura surrounding her keeps Logan intrigued. And even despite his constant struggle with his nightmares of Jean Grey and other events, he manages to keep focused on his mission to protect her and get to the bottom of her situation.

Along the way, he finds out that he’s in deeper than he thought; members of the Yakuza are quickly implicated as they take Makiro hostage during a funeral procession for Yashida, and in the process, Wolverine gets injured and realizes he isn’t so quick to heal now. It turns out the Yakuza certainly aren’t the only baddies to worry about here; no, a much more intimidating — is intimidating the right word? — villain remains at the center of our main conflict. Viper, chosen for whatever reason to be the villain in this edition of the X-Men franchise, single-handedly destroyed a lot of the momentum for me. Played by a terribly bland Svetlana Khodchenkova, this mutant is meant to be the true opponent to Wolverine, but she winds up doing more damage to the movie than to our clawed hero. Either the casting was a poor choice, or the intention was to make this villain seem as calm, cool and coldblooded as possible. Whatever it was, she just does not work here at all and from the moment she was introduced to the story, The Wolverine started losing credibility with me.

But perhaps that’s not fair to say. The movie doesn’t intend to win any Oscars, therefore I maybe shouldn’t take the movie so seriously. It’s meant to be an entertaining, light-hearted affair. Unfortunately, though, the previews and trailers released weeks and months prior were telling a very different story. I got the impression we were in for a darker, more brooding story. That is true of the character of Wolverine — he’s perpetually miserable in this movie, constantly awakening from horrible dreams and fearing for his life around many a corner. He’s been cursed with the ability to live forever, yet someone challenges him in the beginning to take on a life of mortality. These things do take their toll on the character, and that was interesting, yes. But the story simply crumbled around him in comparison.

And Hugh Jackman, of course, is as likable as always. I have no problem whatsoever with the work he turned in here in 2013, despite the fact he’s not doing anything radically different than from before. Additionally, I must give credit to the main girls following in Wolverine’s tracks: Yukio and Makiro both are intriguing characters and aren’t quite as cardboard as the Viper. Yukio is a brilliant girl who can “see” or “feel” what’s going to happen in the future and acts as a bodyguard to the temporarily ailing Wolverine, a relationship that allows a few jokes here and there. Makiro is convincing enough as the damsel in distress, and although its a cliched character arc, her situation managed to make me empathetic.

Recommendation: Most of my disappointment, it should be noted, could be traced back to the pre-release hysteria coming from the studio. “Wolverine fans, rejoice. This is the movie you’ve been waiting for. . .” Given the fact I am not the most devoted follower of the X-Men story to begin with, it might be easier for me to think this has turned out to be a bit of a lie. More passionate fans might find themselves enjoying this much more freely. There’s not much that distinguishes it from its downright corny predecessor. Lest I sound ignorant to what the spirit is all about in the superhero realm, it’s okay to be corny but it’s not okay to be unoriginal and lie about it being original.

Rated: PG-13

Running Time: 126 mins.

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

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

Thomas J

My Journey Through Film

Tag Archives: #tentastetests

The Hunger Games: Mockingjay — Part 1

Only God Forgives

Blue is the Warmest Color

Gravity

Rush

Elysium

2 Guns

The Way, Way Back

The Wolverine