125 posts tagged “movie review”
Released: June 1957
Director: Nathan Juran
*****
Let's be honest: no one is lining up for the story or human characters in 20 Million Miles to Earth. The attraction remains the stop motion creature work by Ray Harryhausen. Perhaps a bit underwhelming in today's era of CGI, the work done by Harryhausen and other artists of his ilk is on full display here, with a generally lifelike and graceful moving (for 1957, of course) creature from Venus tangling with an elephant. Just about the only problem with the special effects happens to be the shifting size of both animals in the action finale.
In case anyone is really interested: man's first exploration of Venus crashes into the sea off the coast of Sicily with only one survivor. A container washes up on shore, which a young boy named Pepe, promptly opens up, bringing the contents to a traveling zoologists, Dr. Leonardo. From there, the gelatinous blob hatches, unleashing Ymir onto the world.
In a nutshell, that's all there is to Earth. A straight forward enough story with wooden characters and actors, both playing a distant second fiddle to the creature effects. None of the actors are particularly memorable, either in the story or in their careers. And yet, the film doesn't buckle under them. They're simply placeholders until we can get to the siege of Rome. It is a glorious battle by 1950s standards. Showcasing many more creature effects than it has any real right to, Harryhausen reaffirms his place in history as a pioneer of special effects. And, most likely, of patience, considering the painstaking detail which went into creating every aspect of a show, from something as simple as a tail moving to engaging in a street battle with an elephant.
Whereas the popular notion of creatures born out of nuclear experiments was popular at the time, 20 Million Miles to Earth uses another standby, the then-new space program, to bring Ymir to Earth. The script is horribly lacking in specifics regarding technology or scientific fact, however. Mentions of Ymir eating sulfur and being stopped by electrical impulses notwithstanding, the script gets us from the beginning of the story proper to the first time a full Ymir is seen with all deliberate speed. There's no pretense of reality; just a good monster movie without the current wave of humanizing the creature, of understanding it and helping it get back home. Ymir smash indeed.
Director: Nathan Juran
*****
Let's be honest: no one is lining up for the story or human characters in 20 Million Miles to Earth. The attraction remains the stop motion creature work by Ray Harryhausen. Perhaps a bit underwhelming in today's era of CGI, the work done by Harryhausen and other artists of his ilk is on full display here, with a generally lifelike and graceful moving (for 1957, of course) creature from Venus tangling with an elephant. Just about the only problem with the special effects happens to be the shifting size of both animals in the action finale.
In case anyone is really interested: man's first exploration of Venus crashes into the sea off the coast of Sicily with only one survivor. A container washes up on shore, which a young boy named Pepe, promptly opens up, bringing the contents to a traveling zoologists, Dr. Leonardo. From there, the gelatinous blob hatches, unleashing Ymir onto the world.
In a nutshell, that's all there is to Earth. A straight forward enough story with wooden characters and actors, both playing a distant second fiddle to the creature effects. None of the actors are particularly memorable, either in the story or in their careers. And yet, the film doesn't buckle under them. They're simply placeholders until we can get to the siege of Rome. It is a glorious battle by 1950s standards. Showcasing many more creature effects than it has any real right to, Harryhausen reaffirms his place in history as a pioneer of special effects. And, most likely, of patience, considering the painstaking detail which went into creating every aspect of a show, from something as simple as a tail moving to engaging in a street battle with an elephant.
Whereas the popular notion of creatures born out of nuclear experiments was popular at the time, 20 Million Miles to Earth uses another standby, the then-new space program, to bring Ymir to Earth. The script is horribly lacking in specifics regarding technology or scientific fact, however. Mentions of Ymir eating sulfur and being stopped by electrical impulses notwithstanding, the script gets us from the beginning of the story proper to the first time a full Ymir is seen with all deliberate speed. There's no pretense of reality; just a good monster movie without the current wave of humanizing the creature, of understanding it and helping it get back home. Ymir smash indeed.
Released: December 25, 2006
Director: Bill Condon
*****
Much like it's 2007 movie musical brethren Hairspray, Dreamgirls concerns itself with race relations in a more straight forward, less pop way. Which isn't to say either approach is better then the other: both end on positive, uplifting notes for the most of the characters and are filled with music from beginning to end. Dreamgirls, though, relegates the various love stories to second tier status in favor of contrasting the rise and fall of early Motown music personalities. Namely James "Thunder" Early (Eddie Murphy, in a role he should have received an Oscar for), car salesman turned executive Curtis Taylor, Jr. (Jamie Foxx in a smoldering performance) and the girls who comprise the Dreamettes (later the Dreams) singing group.
In a desperate bid to put his new act on the map, Taylor, Jr. engages in dubious at best payola with radio stations in the Detroit area. As new gigs start to be lined up, lead singer Effie (Oscar winner Jennifer Hudson) is replaced with Curtis' lover, Deena (Beyonce). With an arguably better looking lead to front the Dreamettes, Effie eventually drops of the group, squandering all the money she has saved up. Over the course of several decades, the Dreams chart hit after hit while Effie has all but abandoned her singing career. Until one fateful day at the unemployment office when she the lightbulb finally goes off for her. And this begins her comeback, if only for a moment, and the destruction of everything Curtis has built.
Despite a 130 minute running time and musical numbers nearly blanketing the entire film, Dreamgirls never turns into a chore to watch. Rather, with shifting time periods, an engrossing story, kinetic music sequences and glorious acting turns by everyone involved, it not only charts the career trajectories of those fictional people involved, but also the rise of "black" music in America. Even though the history lesson is always foremost in the mind of the script, preaching is never at the heart of the story. Instead, the characters-through song-drive the drama. Dialogue is relatively sparse in favor of song, although the only gripe one can have with the film is the relative lack of development some of the supporting players get. Danny Glover's Marty Madison, for instance, or Anika Noni Rose's Lorrell. There just isn't enough time to tell the main story while giving everyone a fully formed character.
It can be argued a great many aspects of the film are the highlight, it is the script (based on the original production) which propels the action on screen. It constantly asks the audience to keep up with leaps in time and story without including subtitles of obvious references to what happens between one scene and another. The story simply flows, and with each change of scenery, costume or hairstyle, we are expected to connect the dots. This approach forces us to become invested in the story from the very beginning as opposed to being passive viewers.
Bill Condon brings a unique flair to the production, not with flashy camera moves, but with a steady hand and a trick I found mesmerizing the two times he used it. Going from a rehearsal to an actual production, the camera pans around the group singing on stage, only to reveal an audience where there was none previously after one full rotation. Simple enough to be sure, but fascinating nonetheless. Beyonce, Murphy, Hudson, Foxx, Danny Glover and the rest of the cast shine in their own roles,searching for the depth of their character whenever they can. The singing from the entire cast is above reproach; costuming, makeup, hairstyle and production design are vibrant and alive, drawing us into their world. The finale may seem a bit too easy for some audiences, yet it works for the story.
Director: Bill Condon
*****
Much like it's 2007 movie musical brethren Hairspray, Dreamgirls concerns itself with race relations in a more straight forward, less pop way. Which isn't to say either approach is better then the other: both end on positive, uplifting notes for the most of the characters and are filled with music from beginning to end. Dreamgirls, though, relegates the various love stories to second tier status in favor of contrasting the rise and fall of early Motown music personalities. Namely James "Thunder" Early (Eddie Murphy, in a role he should have received an Oscar for), car salesman turned executive Curtis Taylor, Jr. (Jamie Foxx in a smoldering performance) and the girls who comprise the Dreamettes (later the Dreams) singing group.
In a desperate bid to put his new act on the map, Taylor, Jr. engages in dubious at best payola with radio stations in the Detroit area. As new gigs start to be lined up, lead singer Effie (Oscar winner Jennifer Hudson) is replaced with Curtis' lover, Deena (Beyonce). With an arguably better looking lead to front the Dreamettes, Effie eventually drops of the group, squandering all the money she has saved up. Over the course of several decades, the Dreams chart hit after hit while Effie has all but abandoned her singing career. Until one fateful day at the unemployment office when she the lightbulb finally goes off for her. And this begins her comeback, if only for a moment, and the destruction of everything Curtis has built.
Despite a 130 minute running time and musical numbers nearly blanketing the entire film, Dreamgirls never turns into a chore to watch. Rather, with shifting time periods, an engrossing story, kinetic music sequences and glorious acting turns by everyone involved, it not only charts the career trajectories of those fictional people involved, but also the rise of "black" music in America. Even though the history lesson is always foremost in the mind of the script, preaching is never at the heart of the story. Instead, the characters-through song-drive the drama. Dialogue is relatively sparse in favor of song, although the only gripe one can have with the film is the relative lack of development some of the supporting players get. Danny Glover's Marty Madison, for instance, or Anika Noni Rose's Lorrell. There just isn't enough time to tell the main story while giving everyone a fully formed character.
It can be argued a great many aspects of the film are the highlight, it is the script (based on the original production) which propels the action on screen. It constantly asks the audience to keep up with leaps in time and story without including subtitles of obvious references to what happens between one scene and another. The story simply flows, and with each change of scenery, costume or hairstyle, we are expected to connect the dots. This approach forces us to become invested in the story from the very beginning as opposed to being passive viewers.
Bill Condon brings a unique flair to the production, not with flashy camera moves, but with a steady hand and a trick I found mesmerizing the two times he used it. Going from a rehearsal to an actual production, the camera pans around the group singing on stage, only to reveal an audience where there was none previously after one full rotation. Simple enough to be sure, but fascinating nonetheless. Beyonce, Murphy, Hudson, Foxx, Danny Glover and the rest of the cast shine in their own roles,searching for the depth of their character whenever they can. The singing from the entire cast is above reproach; costuming, makeup, hairstyle and production design are vibrant and alive, drawing us into their world. The finale may seem a bit too easy for some audiences, yet it works for the story.
Released: November 3, 2006
Directors: David Bowers, Sam Fell
*****
Armed with an all-star voice cast, the stop-motion studio behind the Wallace and Gromit adventures and the production studio which brought Shrek to life, Flushed Away was supposed to be a big hit, a film for all ages to laugh at, enjoy and share together. Someone obviously missed that memo in fall,2006, as the story of a well-to-do rat who gets mixed up in a seedy underworld flopped-relatively speaking-at the box office.
In a (relative) spin on The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse tale, Roddy (Hugh Jackman) is literally flushed down the toilet when interloper Spike (Andy Serkis) finds his way to Roddy's Kensington home. Once in the sewers and tunnels under London, Roddy meets up with the vile criminal lord The Toad (Ian McKellen), beautiful Rita (Kate Winslet) and a host of other characters in the search for a ruby from the Queen's crown. A ruby which will put Rita's family on easy street...though, in the end, the story doesn't turn out to be about the jewel at all.
I never thought I'd say this, but if there is one problem in the film, it is the humor. No, it's not stupid, toilet bowl humor; rather, the opposite, most of the time. It's too sophisticated, elegant, highbrow for some of the intended audience. Most of the laughs are derived from other sources. For instance, check out the opening ten minutes or so. Roddy contemplates putting on a yellow and blue costume, quite obviously meant as a tip of the hate to the Wolverine character in X-Men since Jackman played the mutant in the movies. And take another instance later in the film. Hitting some rapids in the sewer, Roddy and Rita play a Humphrey Bogart/Katharine Hepburn duo trying to navigate their boat to the correct tributary. Other films by DreamWorks make an appearance early, yet all these little touches will go over the heads of the kids. All they want to see-and quite rightly so-is the action. Of which, granted, there is much...both high brow and low-er brow.
As an animated film, Flushed Away does what it's supposed to do. And that is make us laugh. The entirety of the film looks very polished and clean, with the story always leading the action. It's not terribly original, yet feels refreshing and vivid. How many times, really, have we seen the supposed object of everyone's desire turn out to be a fake and the real quest to be for something totally different? The writers, of which their are twelve credited in the film, keep the plot moving, never meandering. Sure, it tugs at the heartstrings just a bit when the plot is allowed a moment of exposition though there's never the blunt sense of trying to make us empathetic for the characters, only to move the story along. And that isn't a weakness at all. Rather, it's quite the opposite.
Directors: David Bowers, Sam Fell
*****
Armed with an all-star voice cast, the stop-motion studio behind the Wallace and Gromit adventures and the production studio which brought Shrek to life, Flushed Away was supposed to be a big hit, a film for all ages to laugh at, enjoy and share together. Someone obviously missed that memo in fall,2006, as the story of a well-to-do rat who gets mixed up in a seedy underworld flopped-relatively speaking-at the box office.
In a (relative) spin on The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse tale, Roddy (Hugh Jackman) is literally flushed down the toilet when interloper Spike (Andy Serkis) finds his way to Roddy's Kensington home. Once in the sewers and tunnels under London, Roddy meets up with the vile criminal lord The Toad (Ian McKellen), beautiful Rita (Kate Winslet) and a host of other characters in the search for a ruby from the Queen's crown. A ruby which will put Rita's family on easy street...though, in the end, the story doesn't turn out to be about the jewel at all.
I never thought I'd say this, but if there is one problem in the film, it is the humor. No, it's not stupid, toilet bowl humor; rather, the opposite, most of the time. It's too sophisticated, elegant, highbrow for some of the intended audience. Most of the laughs are derived from other sources. For instance, check out the opening ten minutes or so. Roddy contemplates putting on a yellow and blue costume, quite obviously meant as a tip of the hate to the Wolverine character in X-Men since Jackman played the mutant in the movies. And take another instance later in the film. Hitting some rapids in the sewer, Roddy and Rita play a Humphrey Bogart/Katharine Hepburn duo trying to navigate their boat to the correct tributary. Other films by DreamWorks make an appearance early, yet all these little touches will go over the heads of the kids. All they want to see-and quite rightly so-is the action. Of which, granted, there is much...both high brow and low-er brow.
As an animated film, Flushed Away does what it's supposed to do. And that is make us laugh. The entirety of the film looks very polished and clean, with the story always leading the action. It's not terribly original, yet feels refreshing and vivid. How many times, really, have we seen the supposed object of everyone's desire turn out to be a fake and the real quest to be for something totally different? The writers, of which their are twelve credited in the film, keep the plot moving, never meandering. Sure, it tugs at the heartstrings just a bit when the plot is allowed a moment of exposition though there's never the blunt sense of trying to make us empathetic for the characters, only to move the story along. And that isn't a weakness at all. Rather, it's quite the opposite.
Released: October 27, 2006
Director: Ryan Murphy
*****
A movie based on a best selling memoir filled to the brim with accomplished actors. Annette Bening, Brian Cox, Joseph Fiennes, Evan Rachel Wood, Alec Baldwin, Gwyneth Paltrow. A sublime performance by Joseph Cross. Pretty good art direction inside a house stuck in time. How the hell does one of the mind's behind Nip/Tuck spew out such utter drivel? Surely someone looked at the dailies and had second thoughts about what was being committed to film. If not, everyone involved needs to be fired.
When Deirdre Burroughs (Bening) gives custody of her young son Augusten (Cross) to her therapist, the unscrupulous Dr. Finch (Cox), the boy's life takes a strange turn. As if catching his mother locking lips with a poetry friend (Kristin Chenoweth) wasn't bad enough and his father (Baldwin) not wanting anything to do with him wouldn't scar him for the rest of his life, the Finch household throws Augusten to the dogs. He not only starts a comatose affair with another patient's child (Fiennes), but delves deeper into a criminally incompetent family.
I have nothing but unrequited bile for Running with Scissors. Not content to squander an A-list cast, the film is nothing more than the most outlandish facsimiles of a childhood the now-adult Burroughs can come up with. Pompous, full of hyper-hyperbole and lacking any sense of reality, how is the audience supposed to relate, let alone become invested in the proceedings? It's as if Burroughs took a painful childhood and morphed each event into such a distorted version of the original its unrecognizable. Maybe that's the point, that the doctor's palatial home was never painted pink, yet that is what Augusten remembers it being to make the memory go down easier. Is it at all possible Deirdre lets her therapist adopt her son, falling into a continuing spiral of drugs and psychotic episodes? In some reality, it makes pseudo-sense. In the reality we all live in, it doesn't. Someone would have stepped in: child services, the cleaning lady, a family friend. Someone. Anyone.
Running with Scissors is Burroughs jab at the people who shaped his life. Quite possibly the only one he can possibly have, considering the fates of the characters involved according to the end credits. Estrangement, death, bankruptcy...it's a recurring theme. The last, specifically, tends to describe the finished film: creatively bankrupt. It doesn't take any skill to be mean, vindictive and cruel. It takes much more talent to create a satire, one that hangs together as a complete story with a brain and a heart instead of becoming a series of events Augusten remembers. Self indulgent, nearly interminable, offensive to the intelligent... If this is truly a straight adaptation of the source material, it might have been better served staying on the page. This is just a grotesque embarrassment for everyone involved, one or two good performances be damned.
Director: Ryan Murphy
*****
A movie based on a best selling memoir filled to the brim with accomplished actors. Annette Bening, Brian Cox, Joseph Fiennes, Evan Rachel Wood, Alec Baldwin, Gwyneth Paltrow. A sublime performance by Joseph Cross. Pretty good art direction inside a house stuck in time. How the hell does one of the mind's behind Nip/Tuck spew out such utter drivel? Surely someone looked at the dailies and had second thoughts about what was being committed to film. If not, everyone involved needs to be fired.
When Deirdre Burroughs (Bening) gives custody of her young son Augusten (Cross) to her therapist, the unscrupulous Dr. Finch (Cox), the boy's life takes a strange turn. As if catching his mother locking lips with a poetry friend (Kristin Chenoweth) wasn't bad enough and his father (Baldwin) not wanting anything to do with him wouldn't scar him for the rest of his life, the Finch household throws Augusten to the dogs. He not only starts a comatose affair with another patient's child (Fiennes), but delves deeper into a criminally incompetent family.
I have nothing but unrequited bile for Running with Scissors. Not content to squander an A-list cast, the film is nothing more than the most outlandish facsimiles of a childhood the now-adult Burroughs can come up with. Pompous, full of hyper-hyperbole and lacking any sense of reality, how is the audience supposed to relate, let alone become invested in the proceedings? It's as if Burroughs took a painful childhood and morphed each event into such a distorted version of the original its unrecognizable. Maybe that's the point, that the doctor's palatial home was never painted pink, yet that is what Augusten remembers it being to make the memory go down easier. Is it at all possible Deirdre lets her therapist adopt her son, falling into a continuing spiral of drugs and psychotic episodes? In some reality, it makes pseudo-sense. In the reality we all live in, it doesn't. Someone would have stepped in: child services, the cleaning lady, a family friend. Someone. Anyone.
Running with Scissors is Burroughs jab at the people who shaped his life. Quite possibly the only one he can possibly have, considering the fates of the characters involved according to the end credits. Estrangement, death, bankruptcy...it's a recurring theme. The last, specifically, tends to describe the finished film: creatively bankrupt. It doesn't take any skill to be mean, vindictive and cruel. It takes much more talent to create a satire, one that hangs together as a complete story with a brain and a heart instead of becoming a series of events Augusten remembers. Self indulgent, nearly interminable, offensive to the intelligent... If this is truly a straight adaptation of the source material, it might have been better served staying on the page. This is just a grotesque embarrassment for everyone involved, one or two good performances be damned.
Released: October 6, 2006
Director: Greg Coolidge
*****
Let me just say at the outset there is no way Employee of the Month could ever hope to match the ultimate work place movie, Office Space. Here, director Greg Coolidge doesn't much care for the white collar worker as he does for the slacker worker, the mid-twenties Average Joe (or Jane) stuck working in retail with little motivation to change. There are no plots to bilk money out of accounts by the half penny or arguments over Red Line staplers. Employee is much simpler: a fight over a girl.
Vince (Dax Shepard) is on the verge of breaking the consecutive "Employee of the Month" streak in his Super Club store. Seventeen consecutive months without a challenger and, upon number eighteen, he will win a new-ish car. He's already the lead cashier in the club and has a stable of regular customers who enjoy his antics while in the check lane. On the other hand, Zack (Dane Cook) is an unmotivated box boy...until a new employee transfers into the store by the name of Amy (Jessica Simpson, who really isn't that bad of an actress here). Then, to win her affections-see, she generally falls for the Employee of the Month-Zack and Vince compete to curry favor in the store, accumulate gold stars by their names and, ultimately, get the girl.
Okay, know what? So what if Employee of the Month and its cast were maligned by critics when the film first debuted. Who cares the attempts of pulling at our heartstrings in the second half are just a wee bit calculated. And why does it matter the whole endeavor doesn't amount to a hill of beans in the end. It's an uncomplicated story, one without an agenda and designed to entertain...which is something it does in spades. From the homages to other movies (Glen Gary and Glen Ross, brothers, from Glengarry Glenn Ross, for instance) to simple physical comedy (watching Vince twirl, juggle and jump over the conveyor belt to scan items), it's hard to not like what it on screen.
That's even despite the shortcomings in the script. A brotherly feud between the store manager and the district manager is never fully fleshed out. The softball finale and the subsequent firing of an employee is handled with zero grace, seeming like an afterthought or a simple plot device. Zack's grandmother comes off as too "with it" in her humor. Vince has next to no development, while Zack is given a detailed backstory, comparatively speaking. The acting won't win any awards, but it is exactly what the script calls for it to be: realistic. In the end, Employee of the Month is sweet and charming despite its drawbacks.
Director: Greg Coolidge
*****
Let me just say at the outset there is no way Employee of the Month could ever hope to match the ultimate work place movie, Office Space. Here, director Greg Coolidge doesn't much care for the white collar worker as he does for the slacker worker, the mid-twenties Average Joe (or Jane) stuck working in retail with little motivation to change. There are no plots to bilk money out of accounts by the half penny or arguments over Red Line staplers. Employee is much simpler: a fight over a girl.
Vince (Dax Shepard) is on the verge of breaking the consecutive "Employee of the Month" streak in his Super Club store. Seventeen consecutive months without a challenger and, upon number eighteen, he will win a new-ish car. He's already the lead cashier in the club and has a stable of regular customers who enjoy his antics while in the check lane. On the other hand, Zack (Dane Cook) is an unmotivated box boy...until a new employee transfers into the store by the name of Amy (Jessica Simpson, who really isn't that bad of an actress here). Then, to win her affections-see, she generally falls for the Employee of the Month-Zack and Vince compete to curry favor in the store, accumulate gold stars by their names and, ultimately, get the girl.
Okay, know what? So what if Employee of the Month and its cast were maligned by critics when the film first debuted. Who cares the attempts of pulling at our heartstrings in the second half are just a wee bit calculated. And why does it matter the whole endeavor doesn't amount to a hill of beans in the end. It's an uncomplicated story, one without an agenda and designed to entertain...which is something it does in spades. From the homages to other movies (Glen Gary and Glen Ross, brothers, from Glengarry Glenn Ross, for instance) to simple physical comedy (watching Vince twirl, juggle and jump over the conveyor belt to scan items), it's hard to not like what it on screen.
That's even despite the shortcomings in the script. A brotherly feud between the store manager and the district manager is never fully fleshed out. The softball finale and the subsequent firing of an employee is handled with zero grace, seeming like an afterthought or a simple plot device. Zack's grandmother comes off as too "with it" in her humor. Vince has next to no development, while Zack is given a detailed backstory, comparatively speaking. The acting won't win any awards, but it is exactly what the script calls for it to be: realistic. In the end, Employee of the Month is sweet and charming despite its drawbacks.
Released: February 26, 2008
Director: Dave Bullock
*****
Armed with a PG-13 rating, a veritable Who's Who voice cast and beloved source material, Justice League: The New Frontier spends far too much time on the Green Lantern's backstory and not nearly enough on the real world events in the 1950s which has led to the Justice League dissolving. See, it's the time of Joseph McCarthy and in this fictional world, he has cast suspicion on everyone, including superheroes. We get glimpses of this world, with Flash being apprehended by the police, and brief snippets of dialogue from other characters, but nothing else. And even the main plot, that of the Centre, a benevolent race determined to wipe out humanity because of the destruction it was wrought on the Earth. Only by coming together-aliens, humans, women, men-can a new League show the world they are to be trusted-and defeat the Centre.
The same problems which plagued the previous DC animated movie, Superman Doomsday, get in the way of the story in this outing. Namely, the running time is far too short (75 minutes) and the story is far too loaded with meaningless exposition unrelated to the main plot. Take, for instance, the appearances of Captain Cold and Gorilla Grodd. They mean nothing in the grand scheme of things other than giving a hero something to do before the climactic finale. The ostensible villain here, the Centre, is given the short end of the stick for no apparent reason. Is there more to the character which was left out of the movie to make it more kid friendly? I can't imagine that being the case, with the copious amount of blood and swearing-not to mention seeing a Korean soldier get his brains blown out by a stranded pre-Lantern Jordan.
The New Frontier refers to John F. Kennedy's speech about reaching for the stars as one people-the human race. And, indeed, there are allusions to this idea throughout the film, though it can be heavy handed at times, especially as it pertains to current events. While the "Big Three" (Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman) do make appearances throughout the production, the actual story rests on Green Lantern, the Martian Manhunter, Flash...almost to a fault. It's as if the creators are trying to set up separate franchises from all of these characters in animated form, giving them a pilot of sorts tied to the Justice League name. Fast moving and engaging, my quibbles really are just that: very minor issues coming from a fan who expects far too much.
It's hard not to recommend the feature based on the voice acting (again director by longtime DC Animation's Andrea Romano) and the spectacular visuals appearing as though they are ripped right from the comic book. The finale is absorbing while the dropping of characters throughout the film is great fun for longtime fans. Not to mention those of us who miss the animated Justice League half hour adventures. The New Frontier isn't perfect, but happens to be worlds better than counterpart Marvel's slackjawed animated fare (Ultimate Avengers, Invincible Iron Man, Doctor Strange). And, not to mention it's own forbearer, Superman Doomsday.
Director: Dave Bullock
*****
Armed with a PG-13 rating, a veritable Who's Who voice cast and beloved source material, Justice League: The New Frontier spends far too much time on the Green Lantern's backstory and not nearly enough on the real world events in the 1950s which has led to the Justice League dissolving. See, it's the time of Joseph McCarthy and in this fictional world, he has cast suspicion on everyone, including superheroes. We get glimpses of this world, with Flash being apprehended by the police, and brief snippets of dialogue from other characters, but nothing else. And even the main plot, that of the Centre, a benevolent race determined to wipe out humanity because of the destruction it was wrought on the Earth. Only by coming together-aliens, humans, women, men-can a new League show the world they are to be trusted-and defeat the Centre.
The same problems which plagued the previous DC animated movie, Superman Doomsday, get in the way of the story in this outing. Namely, the running time is far too short (75 minutes) and the story is far too loaded with meaningless exposition unrelated to the main plot. Take, for instance, the appearances of Captain Cold and Gorilla Grodd. They mean nothing in the grand scheme of things other than giving a hero something to do before the climactic finale. The ostensible villain here, the Centre, is given the short end of the stick for no apparent reason. Is there more to the character which was left out of the movie to make it more kid friendly? I can't imagine that being the case, with the copious amount of blood and swearing-not to mention seeing a Korean soldier get his brains blown out by a stranded pre-Lantern Jordan.
The New Frontier refers to John F. Kennedy's speech about reaching for the stars as one people-the human race. And, indeed, there are allusions to this idea throughout the film, though it can be heavy handed at times, especially as it pertains to current events. While the "Big Three" (Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman) do make appearances throughout the production, the actual story rests on Green Lantern, the Martian Manhunter, Flash...almost to a fault. It's as if the creators are trying to set up separate franchises from all of these characters in animated form, giving them a pilot of sorts tied to the Justice League name. Fast moving and engaging, my quibbles really are just that: very minor issues coming from a fan who expects far too much.
It's hard not to recommend the feature based on the voice acting (again director by longtime DC Animation's Andrea Romano) and the spectacular visuals appearing as though they are ripped right from the comic book. The finale is absorbing while the dropping of characters throughout the film is great fun for longtime fans. Not to mention those of us who miss the animated Justice League half hour adventures. The New Frontier isn't perfect, but happens to be worlds better than counterpart Marvel's slackjawed animated fare (Ultimate Avengers, Invincible Iron Man, Doctor Strange). And, not to mention it's own forbearer, Superman Doomsday.
Released: November 10, 2004 (AFI Film Festival)
Director: Quentin Lee
*****
Ethan Mao, like Hate Crime, concerns itself with gay empowerment. In this case, with gay teen Ethan, who leaves his house for a life of prostitution when his father finds out he's homosexual. On the street, he meets stereotypical hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold Remigio who teaches him how to live the life while secretly falling in love with Ethan. It's only when the displaced son returns home to ostensibly steal money from his store owner father do things gets tangled: the family comes home, prompting Ethan and Remigio to hold them hostage, all over a necklace.
Revenge or gay empowerment, it doesn't matter. Both the character and movie Ethan Mao are so overwrought and short sighted, writer/director Quentin Lee can't see the forest for the trees. Instead of crafting a suspenseful hostage drama, he's given us one reason after another to despise the gay main characters instead of root for them. Take, for instance, a moment when Ethan refuses his step-mother Sarah permission to go to the bathroom. He screams at her, using language which sounds utterly unconvincing for him, to go in her chair. She does, as we see urine running down her ankle. Yet just a few seconds later, he allows an older half-brother to leave the table with no supervision. It's that kind of schizophrenic writing which dooms the film, not because it's particularly bad, but because it doesn't make much sense.
It's hard to figure out if Ethan's dialogue is the major problem here or if it's the acting by Jun Hee Lee. He's never convincing when he shouts and orders his family around. Yes, he's in uncharted waters, yet there's not a shred of realism to the story. He wants a necklace which belonged to his mother, leading to the group staying holed up in the house overnight. Which makes no sense, honestly, except the events take place on Thanksgiving, a bank holiday. (A convenient plot device if I ever saw one.) There's two different films here, one centering on Ethan's life outside the house and then the drama inside the home. Neither meshes well with the other, creating a severe disconnect.
The only way the movie truly makes sense-from the dialogue to the stilted acting-is if everything is a dream. Night scenes are bathed in blue (from ambient light) and Lee does try to make us believe the events are a dream. Yet even with a reasonably steady directing hand, the script sends Ethan Mao off the rails. If you want to make Ethan a truly vengeful gay man, he should have no qualms about shooting his entire family. If this is supposed to be a family reconciliation film, there's not enough of that aspect in the finished product to provide a complete story arc.
Director: Quentin Lee
*****
Ethan Mao, like Hate Crime, concerns itself with gay empowerment. In this case, with gay teen Ethan, who leaves his house for a life of prostitution when his father finds out he's homosexual. On the street, he meets stereotypical hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold Remigio who teaches him how to live the life while secretly falling in love with Ethan. It's only when the displaced son returns home to ostensibly steal money from his store owner father do things gets tangled: the family comes home, prompting Ethan and Remigio to hold them hostage, all over a necklace.
Revenge or gay empowerment, it doesn't matter. Both the character and movie Ethan Mao are so overwrought and short sighted, writer/director Quentin Lee can't see the forest for the trees. Instead of crafting a suspenseful hostage drama, he's given us one reason after another to despise the gay main characters instead of root for them. Take, for instance, a moment when Ethan refuses his step-mother Sarah permission to go to the bathroom. He screams at her, using language which sounds utterly unconvincing for him, to go in her chair. She does, as we see urine running down her ankle. Yet just a few seconds later, he allows an older half-brother to leave the table with no supervision. It's that kind of schizophrenic writing which dooms the film, not because it's particularly bad, but because it doesn't make much sense.
It's hard to figure out if Ethan's dialogue is the major problem here or if it's the acting by Jun Hee Lee. He's never convincing when he shouts and orders his family around. Yes, he's in uncharted waters, yet there's not a shred of realism to the story. He wants a necklace which belonged to his mother, leading to the group staying holed up in the house overnight. Which makes no sense, honestly, except the events take place on Thanksgiving, a bank holiday. (A convenient plot device if I ever saw one.) There's two different films here, one centering on Ethan's life outside the house and then the drama inside the home. Neither meshes well with the other, creating a severe disconnect.
The only way the movie truly makes sense-from the dialogue to the stilted acting-is if everything is a dream. Night scenes are bathed in blue (from ambient light) and Lee does try to make us believe the events are a dream. Yet even with a reasonably steady directing hand, the script sends Ethan Mao off the rails. If you want to make Ethan a truly vengeful gay man, he should have no qualms about shooting his entire family. If this is supposed to be a family reconciliation film, there's not enough of that aspect in the finished product to provide a complete story arc.
Released: April 29, 2006 (Miami Gay and Lesbian Film Festival)
Director: Christian Faure
*****
A Love to Hide, otherwise known as Un amour a taire (it's French), tells a deceptively simple story about people protecting one another and forming a family in their hour of need. Nazi-occupied Paris in 1942 was not welcoming to Jews or gays. When Sara watches as her family is slaughtered in front of her, she runs to the only place she can remember: an old friend from vacations. Jean, the prodigal son of a launderer, is that friend and, to everyone in the world, he just hasn't found the right girl yet. However, he has his lover Philippe in a behind-closed-doors relationship. With Sara part of their family-and Jean's brother Jacques-the group try to navigate a turbulent time in their world. But when Jacques becomes jealous, throwing his brother to the Nazi's, the delicate balance this group has created is destroyed.
No film about the Holocaust can match the emotional punch of Schindler's List or the pure theatricality of Bent so it's a good thing director Faure's TV movie doesn't try. What it does, at just 102 minutes, is highlight homosexuals also persecuted by the Nazi's. As one prisoner tells Jean in a concentration camp, the gays are the lowest life form on the totem pole. And in one of the movie's most jaw droppingly horrific moments, this man gets turned to death by a flamethrower when he collapses from exhaustion. A Love to Hide doesn't necessarily concern itself with the politics or providing background to what we're seeing: each time a time jump occurs, we have to essentially guess what has happened. What it does worry about is creating individuals instead of caricatures. And, aside from Jacques, it succeeds.
What happens to Jacques, you may ask. Unfortunately, we know his story arc before it has any chance to get going. On top of that, how many times have we seen a jealous sibling do something we know they'll regret before the film is over? Apparently, it is preferable to have a brother lobotomized by the Nazi's (yes, Jean is the subject of experiments) than to keep a secret about him being gay. Jacques is so jealous, envious, of Jean because of Sara and the adulation of their father he can't see the forest for the trees. That's the caricature part I was talking about. A standard villain only somewhat redeemed by Nicholas Gob's acting ability. (I don't even want to mention the astoundingly dense ending in which everyone holds hands and sings Kumbiah.)
Would it have been better for the film to take more chances with the material, to show the brutality in the concentration camps using more than just one example? Sure. Do some of the main characters get taken out of the story entirely too quickly, making the audience wonder who the plot will focus on? Yup. Is there any sense of reasoning for Jacques' change of heart near the end of the picture, or even father Armand's? Nope. Despite those drawbacks-and others-this is still a powerful story from beginning to end guided by a "good enough" director perhaps hamstrung by the limits of the medium he's working in.
Director: Christian Faure
*****
A Love to Hide, otherwise known as Un amour a taire (it's French), tells a deceptively simple story about people protecting one another and forming a family in their hour of need. Nazi-occupied Paris in 1942 was not welcoming to Jews or gays. When Sara watches as her family is slaughtered in front of her, she runs to the only place she can remember: an old friend from vacations. Jean, the prodigal son of a launderer, is that friend and, to everyone in the world, he just hasn't found the right girl yet. However, he has his lover Philippe in a behind-closed-doors relationship. With Sara part of their family-and Jean's brother Jacques-the group try to navigate a turbulent time in their world. But when Jacques becomes jealous, throwing his brother to the Nazi's, the delicate balance this group has created is destroyed.
No film about the Holocaust can match the emotional punch of Schindler's List or the pure theatricality of Bent so it's a good thing director Faure's TV movie doesn't try. What it does, at just 102 minutes, is highlight homosexuals also persecuted by the Nazi's. As one prisoner tells Jean in a concentration camp, the gays are the lowest life form on the totem pole. And in one of the movie's most jaw droppingly horrific moments, this man gets turned to death by a flamethrower when he collapses from exhaustion. A Love to Hide doesn't necessarily concern itself with the politics or providing background to what we're seeing: each time a time jump occurs, we have to essentially guess what has happened. What it does worry about is creating individuals instead of caricatures. And, aside from Jacques, it succeeds.
What happens to Jacques, you may ask. Unfortunately, we know his story arc before it has any chance to get going. On top of that, how many times have we seen a jealous sibling do something we know they'll regret before the film is over? Apparently, it is preferable to have a brother lobotomized by the Nazi's (yes, Jean is the subject of experiments) than to keep a secret about him being gay. Jacques is so jealous, envious, of Jean because of Sara and the adulation of their father he can't see the forest for the trees. That's the caricature part I was talking about. A standard villain only somewhat redeemed by Nicholas Gob's acting ability. (I don't even want to mention the astoundingly dense ending in which everyone holds hands and sings Kumbiah.)
Would it have been better for the film to take more chances with the material, to show the brutality in the concentration camps using more than just one example? Sure. Do some of the main characters get taken out of the story entirely too quickly, making the audience wonder who the plot will focus on? Yup. Is there any sense of reasoning for Jacques' change of heart near the end of the picture, or even father Armand's? Nope. Despite those drawbacks-and others-this is still a powerful story from beginning to end guided by a "good enough" director perhaps hamstrung by the limits of the medium he's working in.
Released: June 21, 1966
Director: Mike Nichols
*****
When is it acceptable to call a woman a bitch and not be roundly chastised for it? Maybe when that woman turns out to be Martha, as played by Elizabeth Taylor, in Who's Afraid of Virgina Woolf? Taylor's is a terribly noteworthy performance-even, perhaps, groundbreaking, controversial and career making-as the perpetually drunk wife of an middling associate professor. Theirs is an unconventional marriage, full of depravity, snarky remarks and not even the slightest hint of love or mutual respect between them.
Late one night after a party, Martha invites a new professor and his wife to their home for drinks. George (played by Taylor's one-time husband Richard Burton) takes exception to the invitation, considering the 2 am hour. However, once fresh faced Nick and Honey arrive, all semblance of rest goes out the window. Constantly trading barbs with one another, Martha and George turn into the world's worst hosts.
Director Mike Nichols could not have asked for a better set of actors or production in his first effort behind the camera. Adapted from the play by Edward Albee, Woolf is a confining, uncomfortable affair, almost as if we are watching a marriage implode right before our very eyes. There is a voyeuristic aspect to the story, too, giving the audience access to intimate details of two people. Like Rear Window and other films of their ilk, the idea of throwing people into a room together to see how they work against each other is nearly a stroke of genius. Taylor, Burton, George Segal and Sandy Dennis don't have an "out" to look for; they are the center attraction.
One thing I wanted to mention, though: Taylor's performance, while exceptionally over the top, can end up being too much in the end. She's so manic and out of control it's impossible to see what-outside of a job-George ever saw in her. Lies layered on top of deceit on top of biting bile fermenting over their entire marriage is too much for one man to take and nearly too much for this 131 minute opus. At least we can walk away when we need to; George has no such relief.
Director: Mike Nichols
*****
When is it acceptable to call a woman a bitch and not be roundly chastised for it? Maybe when that woman turns out to be Martha, as played by Elizabeth Taylor, in Who's Afraid of Virgina Woolf? Taylor's is a terribly noteworthy performance-even, perhaps, groundbreaking, controversial and career making-as the perpetually drunk wife of an middling associate professor. Theirs is an unconventional marriage, full of depravity, snarky remarks and not even the slightest hint of love or mutual respect between them.
Late one night after a party, Martha invites a new professor and his wife to their home for drinks. George (played by Taylor's one-time husband Richard Burton) takes exception to the invitation, considering the 2 am hour. However, once fresh faced Nick and Honey arrive, all semblance of rest goes out the window. Constantly trading barbs with one another, Martha and George turn into the world's worst hosts.
Director Mike Nichols could not have asked for a better set of actors or production in his first effort behind the camera. Adapted from the play by Edward Albee, Woolf is a confining, uncomfortable affair, almost as if we are watching a marriage implode right before our very eyes. There is a voyeuristic aspect to the story, too, giving the audience access to intimate details of two people. Like Rear Window and other films of their ilk, the idea of throwing people into a room together to see how they work against each other is nearly a stroke of genius. Taylor, Burton, George Segal and Sandy Dennis don't have an "out" to look for; they are the center attraction.
One thing I wanted to mention, though: Taylor's performance, while exceptionally over the top, can end up being too much in the end. She's so manic and out of control it's impossible to see what-outside of a job-George ever saw in her. Lies layered on top of deceit on top of biting bile fermenting over their entire marriage is too much for one man to take and nearly too much for this 131 minute opus. At least we can walk away when we need to; George has no such relief.
Released: October 19, 2007
Director: Susanne Bier
*****
Why does a widow ask her late husband's best friend-whom she doesn't like in the first place-to move in with her and the children? Why does this widow go off on the aforementioned friend when he is able to coerce one of the children to put their head under the water? And why, praytell, does the widow ask the friend to help her go to sleep by tugging on her ear, like the husband used to? All at once, this actions make from confusing, infuriating and just plain icky moments in Things We Lost in the Fire. When Brian (David Duchovny) is gunned down helping a woman being abused in a parking lot, his wife Audrey (Halle Berry) tries to move on with the help of his friend Jerry (Benicio Del Toro), the druggie and loser.
The fact so much talent is squandered on what is essentially a theater production is sad. Watching the entire two hour movie? Even more depressing. Why is it, since her Oscar for Monster's Ball, Berry can't seem to pick a script worthy of her? Here, she's given little to do besides grieve-all in one tone, mind you. Audrey never generates the sympathy we know director Susanne Bier and writer Allen Loeb are trying to wring out of the situation. Maybe part of the reason is we never truly get to know her. We're introduced to the character after Brian has been killed and only know of their relationship is flashbacks. Then, as the story progresses for Audrey and Jerry, there is a voyeuristic feeling to the endeavor, as if we're seeing things none of us really want to. Almost like the car wreck we don't turn away from.
And it's all because of Audrey we feel this way. Not only does she berate Brian for his friendship with Jerry, but she accuses him of stealing money from their car. We never get to the bottom of why they don't get along-the assumption is the drugs; we just watch as Audrey introduces Jerry to her life and then throws him into the deep end of the pool, figuratively speaking. It's actually quite sad she turns to someone outside her "circle" for comfort when there are others she is more comfortable with who get left on the sidelines. We just don't get the chance to understand.
The problem isn't Berry or Del Toro or even Duchovny; the acting is fine across the board, maybe even commendable. Bier paces the story slower than a glacier going across the Arctic Sea and because of that, we loose interest quite quickly. There is no flash or anything the least bit involving about the Fire, which turns out to be tangentially related to the plot. Audrey is a woman in mourning and, as such, makes bad decisions for her family. All we want to do is tell her to get with the program and begin to move on.
Director: Susanne Bier
*****
Why does a widow ask her late husband's best friend-whom she doesn't like in the first place-to move in with her and the children? Why does this widow go off on the aforementioned friend when he is able to coerce one of the children to put their head under the water? And why, praytell, does the widow ask the friend to help her go to sleep by tugging on her ear, like the husband used to? All at once, this actions make from confusing, infuriating and just plain icky moments in Things We Lost in the Fire. When Brian (David Duchovny) is gunned down helping a woman being abused in a parking lot, his wife Audrey (Halle Berry) tries to move on with the help of his friend Jerry (Benicio Del Toro), the druggie and loser.
The fact so much talent is squandered on what is essentially a theater production is sad. Watching the entire two hour movie? Even more depressing. Why is it, since her Oscar for Monster's Ball, Berry can't seem to pick a script worthy of her? Here, she's given little to do besides grieve-all in one tone, mind you. Audrey never generates the sympathy we know director Susanne Bier and writer Allen Loeb are trying to wring out of the situation. Maybe part of the reason is we never truly get to know her. We're introduced to the character after Brian has been killed and only know of their relationship is flashbacks. Then, as the story progresses for Audrey and Jerry, there is a voyeuristic feeling to the endeavor, as if we're seeing things none of us really want to. Almost like the car wreck we don't turn away from.
And it's all because of Audrey we feel this way. Not only does she berate Brian for his friendship with Jerry, but she accuses him of stealing money from their car. We never get to the bottom of why they don't get along-the assumption is the drugs; we just watch as Audrey introduces Jerry to her life and then throws him into the deep end of the pool, figuratively speaking. It's actually quite sad she turns to someone outside her "circle" for comfort when there are others she is more comfortable with who get left on the sidelines. We just don't get the chance to understand.
The problem isn't Berry or Del Toro or even Duchovny; the acting is fine across the board, maybe even commendable. Bier paces the story slower than a glacier going across the Arctic Sea and because of that, we loose interest quite quickly. There is no flash or anything the least bit involving about the Fire, which turns out to be tangentially related to the plot. Audrey is a woman in mourning and, as such, makes bad decisions for her family. All we want to do is tell her to get with the program and begin to move on.
