Dune (2021)

Director: Denis Villeneuve
Starring: Timothée Chalamet, Rebecca Ferguson, Oscar Isaac, Josh Brolin, Stellan Skarsgård, Dave Bautista, Stephen McKinley Henderson, Zendaya, David Dastmalchian, Chang Chen, Sharon Duncan-Brewster, Charlotte Rampling, Jason Momoa, Javier Bardem
Running Time: 156 min.
Rating: PG-13 

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Better the longer it sits with you, Denis Villeneuve's Dune has the unenviable task of once again bringing to life the world in Frank Herbert's groundbreaking 1965 novel, while also picking up the pieces from one already perceived failure of an adaptation. There are few major, commercially viable cinematic properties left carrying as much baggage, due mostly to its inaccessibility and heady themes. Despite a story predating Star Wars by over a decade, on paper the plot contains elements justifiably earning those comparisons, albeit with more abstract material at its core, previously resulting in a rough big screen transition. Even if appreciation for his vision has grown slightly since, David Lynch learned found out the hard way in 1984, ensuring it wouldn't be revisted on a similar scale or scope until now. 

Arrival and Blade Runner 2049's Villeneuve seemed as good a choice as any to tackle this, possibly bringing the visual grandeur necessary to distract from, or maybe even enhance, some of the colder, navel-gazing excursions long thought to make it a better read than watch. And he does, giving us the best possible adaptation under the circumstances, even if a feeling of dread may overcome viewers when they see a title card reading "Dune: Part One" at the start of this 265-minute epic. Given the density of its source, that was inevitable, but you have to wonder whether this has the creative momentum necessary to become the franchise it's being positioned as. But it's a success, carefully guided by a director who, to his credit, doesn't try to fit a square peg into a round hole or dumb down a story that takes its time to marinate.

It's 1091 and the ruler of the ocean planet Caladan, Duke Leto (Oscar Isaac) of House Atreides has just been assigned to replace Baron Vladimir Harkonnen (Stellan Skarsgard) of House Harkonnen as the fief ruler of desert planet Arrakis. It's a rough, harsh terrain, but provides the only source of "spice," an invaluable resource critical to human viality and interstellar travel. Unbeknownst to Leto and House Atreides' weapons master Gurney Halleck (Josh Brolin), the Emperor is having Harkonnen stage a coup wit his troops to retake the planet, eradicating them before they can control the spice or form an advantageous alliance with the Freman, Arrakis' native inhabitants, represented by tribe leader Stilgar (Javier Bardem).

Leto's concubine, Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson), an acolyte of the Bene Gesserit sisterhood, possesses advanced physical and mental capabilities that have been passed on to son Paul (Timothée Chamalet), who is trained by her, Halleck and  swordsmaster, Duncan Idaho (Jason Momoa). While they all sense greatness in young Paul, he has impulse control issues and problems harnessing his powers, distracted by visions of a turbulent future and dreams of a mysterious young Freman woman (Zendaya). A war looms as Harkonnen's fleet of troops and hulking nephew Glossu Rabban (Dave Bautista) prepare to attack. With the fate of House Atreides, as well as the planet of Arrakis hanging in the balance, their futures may depend on Paul answering the call to fulfill his true destiny.      

As involved as this all seems, it's even more convoluted than that, so Villeneuve deserves credit for distilling the script he co-wrote with Joe Spaihts and Eric Roth into a palpable cinematic experience that reaches a certain level of comprehensibility. They didn't exactly hit the jackpot in terms of the breeziest sci-fi tomes to adapt so it's actually amazing how well this holds together, especially in its strongest middle section. For anyone not already familar with Herbert's novel or Lynch's '84 take, what will initially be most noticeable are how many basic mythological tenets it shares in common with the Star Wars trilogy, including a young hero struggling with his lineage who's now suddenly thrust into a leadership role in the wake of family tragedy. 

The use of a Bene Gissert Force-like technique known as the "Voice" that's ultilized to control others actions are where the closest similarities between Paul and young Skywalker end. If the latter was an eager go-getter almost too energetic for his own good, Paul's the most reluctant and introverted of heroes, with Chamalet subtly conveying a quiet confidence, while still registering his character's inner anguish and growing dread in nearly every scene. He's asked to do a lot while at times sustaining an almost absent stillness, putting a lot of pressure on the audience to embrace an entirely different kind of protagonist who must adhere to a philosophy built almost entirely on restraint and passivity, at least until it isn't. 

Since the character of Paul is such a departure, for some it may not be the most compelling thing to watch, but Chamalet completely makes it work, especially in his many scenes opposite a tremendous Rebecca Ferguson as his mother, Lady Jessica, who's simultaneously disappointed in and encouraging of her son. This, and his futuristic visions of Zendaya's Chani might be the film's most successful element, with even cinematographer Greig Fraser's impressive vistas and Hans Zimmmer's score managing to take a backseat (though not too much of one) when those actors are on screen. And while his time is more limited, Jason Momoa finds a way to make maybe the biggest impression as the spectacularly named Duncan Idaho, perfectly filling the cocky, anti-hero warrior role that's been so frequently miscast of late in these big blockbusters. 

That such strong acting assets as Oscar Isaac, Javier Bardem and a slimy, Jabba-like Stellan Skarsgård (buried in prosthetics) are far from an afterthought in an already stuffed A-list cast is a testament to how well Villeneuve utlilizes what he has. Whatever the story's perceived problems or occasional lapses in focus are made up for by them and the sheer spectacle of the fight sequences and effects, especially those ferocious sandstorms. Striking just the right balance of keeping your eyes glued to the screen without going overboard, the ratio of meditative scenes to slam bang action is well proportioned, with visuals that make one of the better recent cases for theatergoing.

A seemingly uncompromised Dune that's free from the pandering you'd expect from a movie this size might the best thing about it, staying true to its vision while avoiding the temptation to self-indulge. Culminating in more of a stoppage than an end, it feels so much like a first part, they may as well just slap a "to be continued" on the screen. How many will want to follow this story into the next chapter is the bigger question, even as it stands as one of the year's bigger technical achievements, awash in imagery and scenes that stay with you long after the final credits. No one expected this new Dune film to achieve perfection, but it's impressive nonetheless, reigniting a spirited debate as to why that lofty goal seems unattainable, both for better and worse.

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker

Director: J.J. Abrams
Starring: Carrie Fisher, Mark Hamill, Daisy Ridley, Adam Driver, John Boyega, Oscar Isaac, Anthony Daniels, Naomi Ackie, Domhnall Gleeson, Richard E. Grant, Lupita Nyong'o, Keri Russell, Joonas Suotamo, Kelly Marie Tran, Ian McDiarmid, Billy Dee Williams
Running Time:142 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

**Warning: The Following Review Contains Plot Spoilers For 'Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker' **

In case you haven't heard, Star Wars fans are unhappy. About everything. Constantly. What exactly they're displeased with is anyone's guess, and we know that J.J. Abrams and Kathleen Kennedy have paid attention to that online noise. While some would argue the problem is precisely that they haven't listened to the fans, I'd counter that their real jobs are to craft the best possible story while serving the plot and characters. If that isn't done, then we'll talk. Otherwise, hysterical claims that Rian Johnson's polarizing middle chapter of the new saga, The Last Jedi, is the "worst movie ever made" almost feel like a compliment, awarding it a level of importance that probably isn't warranted. It was a mixed bag that attempted a little too much while marginalizing certain key characters. And if you really want to go there, it was also overlong, at points desperately in need of a cut and trim. But loathe it or not, it was the distinct vision of someone who clearly wasn't servicing a giant corporation, the franchise, or its fans. Johnson wasn't looking to make things easy for whoever took the reigns for this final installment, which, to no one's surprise, wouldn't be him.

Now that the series has returned to the safe, comforting arms of Lucas' successor and The Force Awakens director, Abrams, we can now officially confirm that no matter what anyone does with any incarnation of this property, the diehards will whine and complain until the cows come home. For them, Awakens was a tired retread of A New Hope, The Last Jedi veered too far from it, and somehow, they've even found an excuse to pile on the Disney Plus series, The Mandalorian, which feels like the purest, most faithful incarnation of Star Wars we've gotten since the original trilogy.

Luckily, the jury's still out on how many of these fans represent the general moviegoing population, who are probably wondering what all the fuss is about. So no, The Rise of Skywalker doesn't "undo" anything that happened in The Last Jedi to placate unhappy audiences, nor is it full of controversial creative decisions intended to enrage the masses. Like the preceding two, it's a Star Wars movie, firmly falling into the same category of in terms of quality. And it's a really good one that effectively closes this latest saga under some rather challenging circumstances. It's best not to look at it as any more than what it is because doing so has a way of both simultaneously giving it more and less credit than it deserves.

Heading into this finale without Harrison Ford's Han Solo, Mark Hamill's Luke Skywalker and to a strangely lesser extent, the late Carrie Fisher's General Leia Organa, puts even greater pressure on its newer characters carry the load, an inevitable moment that was always going to be the series' biggest hurdle, albeit one many thought wouldn't arrive until the next trilogy. Well, it's here, and the two characters (and actors playing them) who seemed most prepared, prove themselves worthy of carrying the mantle. And just as their storyline was the very best aspect of the last film, that's true again here, continuing and concluding in an equally thrilling fashion. What surrounds them is a little smoother and less messy too, even if we're kidding ourselves by pretending this is anything but a two-person show. Still, this is an immensely satisfying finish by any measure, its strengths and few weaknesses laid bare for its angry fanbase to pick apart like vultures circling Palpatine's corpse.

During an opening crawl that just might be the clearest and most concise of any recent entry, we learn that the First Order leader Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) is following a mysterious, galaxy-wide broadcast from the planet Exegol by presumably deceased Emperor Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid). Upon arriving, he finds the evil Emperor alive, and despite his ailing physical appearance, claiming responsibility for the rise of the First Order, operating in the shadows this whole time. Determined to end the Resistance for good, he enlists Kylo to find and kill Rey (Daisy Ridley), who's in the midst of continuing her Jedi training with General Leia (Fisher). But Kylo has other plans and is still determined to turn Rey to the Dark Side so they can rule the galaxy together, continuing to suppress whatever guilt, if any, he may harbor for killing his father, Han Solo.

Meanwhile, Finn (John Boyega), Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac), Chewbacca (Joonas Suotamo), BB-8 and C-3PO (Anthony Daniels) are traveling to the planet Pasaana to seek a hidden Sith Wayfinder that will tell them Palpatine's location. With the help of Leia's good friend Lando Calrissian (Billy Dee Williams), they're close, but Kylo and his Knights of Wren are on their tails. As the connection between Rey and Kylo continues to grow stronger and more complicated, each are tempted by the other side as the former prepares to come face-to-face with her worst fears from within, and eventually confront a more powerful than ever Emperor.

If there's any creative controversy or heated discussion points in Abrams' and Chris Terrio's screenplay, it's the decision made regarding Rey's bloodline and lineage, criticized by many as dismissingly walking back The Last Jedi revelation that she's a "nobody." But at that point, Rey was, at least as far as she knew. It's just simply information given to us now that she or us didn't have then, rather than the desperate revisionist history it's been accused of.  And while that and the resurrection of presumed dead Palpatine as the chief heavy may seem like grasping at straws, Abrams wasn't exactly left with a wide variety of options following Rian Johnson's creative indulgences.

That Luke Skywalker's death in the previous film doesn't leave the gaping hole we thought it would is proof enough of Abram's ingenuity in this installment, but with Snoke killed off and Kylo straddling the line between good and evil in his relationship with Rey, bringing Palpatine back as the main antagonist seems about as reasonable as anything else. Let's face it: This guy was already a walking cadaver when we first saw him in the flesh in Return of the Jedi and he's in even worse shape now, completely immobile with tubes coming out of his back. You could argue he was always dead, but also a character whose "survival" can briefly but satisfyingly be explained with only a line or two of dialogue, which they do. And it works.

Palpatine's presence further facilitates Kylo's quest to overthrow him and turn Rey, while the latter's potential turn to the Dark Side now has greater stakes with the revelation that she's Palpatine's grandaughter, and must fight harder to deny the capacity for evil that already resides inside her, inherited through blood. If before it was nearly impossible to be onboard with the slightest possibility Rey could be tempted, there's now genuine suspense as to whether she will given the new circumstances. And if she can overcome it, while helping Kylo do the same, it'll resonate so much more than it otherwise would have. Even if the creative circumstances were less than ideal going in, it's great writing from Abrams, who really digs himself and the series out of a hole.

With this much on the line, Rey now becomes the character they've been building toward since The Force Awakens, and like Mark Hamill before her, Daisy Ridley saves her best, most confident  performance for the final film of the trilogy. It feels as if they've finally committed to her as the centerpiece, with an internal battle compelling enough to carry the load, while some of the other supporting characters find their footing again after being sidelined in the preceding film.

While there will still undoubtedly be complaints about the use of Finn and Poe, they're at least given a less meandering direction here, with Poe receiving a relatively strong sub-plot involving a masked mercenary from his past named Zorii Bliss (Keri Russell), who helps the gang retrieve that mysterious Sith message. The script also makes the best use of 3PO out of any of the latest trilogy films, highlighting him as not only an important cog in the plot, but emphasizing his character in an emotionally substantial way not seen since the original trilogy.

As strong as that all is, and how little credit Abrams has gotten for it, there's still no denying that the Resistance portion of the plot still can't hold a candle to anything involving Rey and Kylo, mainly due to Ridley and Driver's chemistry together on screen and the richness of their characters' history. In fact, you could go a step further and claim that regardless of the improvements made with the Poe and Finn, it's still a far cry from the limitless potential first shown for them in The Force Awakens. That's especially true for Poe, who, as difficult as it is to believe now, was once labeled the "next Han Solo." Even if Oscar Isaac's an actor capable of pulling that off, he was never really given the chance after his character's early promise fizzled out.

As for Boyega's Finn, there was just no coming back after the Rose Tico (Kelly Marie Tran) debacle in The Last Jedi. Abrams even seems so embarrassed by it that he basically benches the actress, only to turn around and cast Naomi Ackie in a similarly functioning role opposite Boyega. That decision would probably be fans' strongest evidence of Abrams rebuking the previous film's machinations, if anyone cared enough about them to even notice.

The better news is that both Lando and Leia are incorporated exceptionally well, as we continue discovering the amount of footage that must have been shot with Carrie Fisher (with some CGI help) for her to still maintain this big a presence. The actress' death, a discomforting elephant in the room last time out, still casts a palor over the proceedings, but with an exception. Abrams seems to have full awareness and control of that knowledge this time, using it to deliver a touching send-off that nicely fits the larger story arc. This combined with brief, but impactful appearances from Ford and Hamill at key moments only add to the power of the Rey/Kylo feud, helping to make what's likely the last time we see these original characters count for something special. 

Due to the heightened suspense involving Rey and Kylo and the Wayfinder search, for about three quarters through, this is probably the best paced outing of the trilogy until the action lags a bit in the third act with a seemingly endless Resistance battle on Exegol that can only end one way. In fairness, the same could be said for just about any other final battle that's taken place in every film since and including A New Hope. That a revolving door of filmmakers seem to share a constant refusal to shave even just a minute or two off of these has to be the most overlooked creative issue through all three trilogies, rarely mentioned as a defining franchise fault. Or more likely, an industry wide one.

With the battle intercut with Rey's and Kylo's showdown with the Emperor, we seem to be approaching a finale that looks as if it could be a close replication of ROTJ's ending. It isn't, but there's no denying we've seen enough cracks in Kylo Ren's helmet to suggest he may still have some Ben Solo in him yet, even as Rey struggles to fight a much darker side emerging within her. Besides Driver giving this trilogy its most nuanced performance and Ridley stepping up to match him this time, their feud and pseudo-relationship has easily been the franchise's biggest draw post-Lucas. And it comes to its proper and inevitable conclusion here, culminating in not only the ultimate sacrifice, but a callback that stirringly unifies all nine films in the Skywalker saga. There's no doubt this is the end, as it should be. These characters have been taken as far as they can go. And we all need a long break.

This isn't the final nail in Star Wars' coffin, as has been endlessly reported. And the franchise's "fans" should eventually recover in enough time to be disappointed by whatever comes next. It shouldn't be a hot take to claim Disney's done a commendable job handling this massive property, but they have, especially in light of the prequels. If they're guily of anything, it's overexposing what's starting to feel more than ever like a product. But then again, hasn't it always? The mundane truth that The Force Awakens, The Last Jedi and now this all fall within the exact same range of high quality, without any of the three being either the best or worst thing in existence, may be difficult for some to face. That this was the last stop in an assembly line of solid filmmaking that easily topped the awful preceding trilogy but had too many interchangeable parts to truly be as distinctive as Lucas' originals, seems like the truest assessment, at least for now.

Just about the only point everyone can agree on is that after following what has largely been an extension of the same core story on and off for over three decades, fatigue has officially set in. It's hardly a coincidence that there were so many postive notices for Rogue One and now The Mandalorian series. Newer stories with fresh characters. It's time to move on, but not right away. And while you'd never know from the reaction, The Rise of Skywalker actually lands on the higher end of recent efforts in the franchise. The real problem is that we may have already gotten too much Star Wars to even care.

Star Wars: The Last Jedi

Director: Rian Johnson
Starring: Mark Hamill, Carrie Fisher, Adam Driver, Daisy Ridley, John Boyega, Oscar Isaac, Andy Serkis, Lupita Nyong'o, Domhnall Gleeson, Anothony Daniels, Gwendoline Christie, Kelly Marie Tran, Laura Dern, Frank Oz, Benicio del Toro
Running Time: 152 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

**Warning: The Following Review Contains Major Plot Spoilers.**

From the moment it was announced George Lucas would be selling LucasFilms to Disney and we'd be getting the inconceivable pipe dream of actual sequels to the original Star Wars trilogy, it was basically a given they'd be able to creatively surpass the wretched prequels. But hopes remained high that they'd go even further and really get it right, and after selecting J.J. Abrams' as the franchise's caretaker and an enormously successful reintroduction with 2015's The Force Awakens, there was finally reason for fans to celebrate. But there was just one more thing. And it's everything.

If few characters in cinema's history have had a greater influence on pop culture than Luke Skywalker, it's also fair to concede an actor has never gotten as little credit as Mark Hamill. He's why we're here, and watching Harrison Ford denounce his involvement all these years only served as a reminder that Hamill never complained once, instead appreciating the adulation of his fans and in knowing the only role he'll be known for is at least a great one. While it's difficult to call any aspect of the already highly praised original trilogy overlooked or underappreciated, if forced to choose, it's his performance.

With the promise of sequels also came the promise of something fans like myself have been waiting decades for: Hamill playing Luke as the older, grizzled Jedi Master. Under the best circumstances,  he'd be as instrumental to The Last Jedi as Sir Alec Guinness was to A New Hope as Ob-Wan. With age and experience on his side and a director as uniquely talented as Rian Johnson at the controls,, Hamill would be put in a position to do the work of his career. What I couldn't have anticipated was descriptors like "controversial" and "polarizing" being attributed to any Star Wars installment that doesn't have George Lucas' name attached. Or more specifically, that the controversy would primarily surround Hamill and his return to this iconic role.

The Last Jedi is not The Empire Strikes Back of this series, nor should that have been the expectation. But it is something a Star Wars movie hasn't been in a while, if not ever: Completely unpredictable. Both for better and worse. It is the most visually arresting installment in many moons, while containing a certain degree of depth and complexity uncommon to the franchise, especially at this point. In other words, it doesn't feel as if Johnson was just hired for a job, which was probably one of the bigger fears going in. Unfortunately, mitigating these flashes of brilliance is that it's overstuffed, overplotted and, at over two and a half hours, a bit bloated. There's enough plot here to jam into ten movies, but all anyone will want to talk about is what happens with Luke. And that's fair, since it's about time he gets some attention.

When we last left Rey (Daisy Ridley), she had arrived with Chewbacca and R2-D2 on the remote island of Ahch-To to convince the self-exiled Luke Skywalker (Hamill) to join the Resistance in their fight against the tyrannical First Order. But it'll be harder than anticipated, as she discovers a bitter, grizzled recluse who's denounced all Jedi teachings after Han and Leia's son, Ben Solo, turned to The Dark Side under his tutelage, only to reemerge as the vindictive Kylo Ren (Adam Driver). Now it's Ren who sees himself capable of recruiting Rey to his side, as Luke fears history could be repeating itself.

Meanwhile, Resistance General Leia Organa (Carrie Fisher) and pilot Poe Dameron Oscar Isaac) are trapped on a transport ship surrounded by a First Order battle fleet targeting their rebel base, as per the orders of Supreme Leader Snoke (Andy Serkis). This is as Stormtrooper turned Resistance fighter Finn (John Boyega), joins Poe, BB-8, and mechanic Rose Tico (Kelly Marie Tran), to embarks on a mission to infiltrate one of their ships and disable their tracking device. The First Order, however, have other plans.

There are about four or five main plots and sub-plots unfolding simultaneously throughout Rian Johnson's script, close to half a dozen huge battle sequences and such a surplus of characters both new and old that you'll need a chart to track it all. Historically, the most successful Star Wars entries are the tightest and most streamlined, narrowing its focus on a few key characters embroiled in a struggle between good and evil. It was that template Lucas introduced in 1977, until with each succeeding effort the universe expanded, the backstories grew deeper and more complicated, and now with Episode VIII, the consequences of that excess are finally reflected in the actual running time of the film. This isn't your father's Star Wars and it might even be the first to fully incorporate the Marvel influence, as the only possible explanation for a universe this packed is Disney looking ahead to spin-offs and sequels.

Injecting the material with his own vision in a way the safer Abrams didn't in The Force Awakens, Johnson manages to heavily diverge from instituted tenants of the franchise while still being somewhat hamstrung by certain requirements. The result is a fascinatingly mixed bag of greatness and frustration that's all about looking ahead, serving as a swan song for classic characters and seriously testing the loyalty of even the most ardent fans who receive what could be their final nostalgia fix. By its end, the most important question surrounds whether enough has been done with the newer characters to get them to the point that they're ready to take over. And the biggest surprise coming out of this is that the time has apparently now arrived, whether we're ready or not.

Much of the gargantuan running time is taken up in the first half by a lot of narrative set-up and an exciting opening battle sequence that lays the cards on the table in terms of what to expect from the Resistance's plan to topple the First Order. Little would we know that the rest of the picture is going to be spent subverting those expectations. While it's easy to quibble that nearly all of these battle scenes could have used a trim and they do employ a good deal more CGI than its predecessor, they're staged impressively by Johnson and Abrams' mandate of incorporating more practical effects has mostly held.

Like its predecessor, the world continues to look dirty and lived-in, the creatures seem authentic and the locations look like actual places rather than actors standing in front of green screens. While most aren't completely incorrect in pointing to the film's middle portion involving Finn and Rose at Canto Bight as lagging the most, there is a larger "Let's do that. Well, that didn't work. So let's try this." repetition to the whole Resistance storyline, often causing the narrative to take an extra step or two in getting where it's going. Whether that's something that would be ironed out in a second viewing remains to be seen, but what's undeniable are that characters are given a chance to shine, even as others are inevitably marginalized.

Anyone who came exclusively for Chewbacca, R2-D2 or C3PO may as well head for the exits since they're given what amounts to extended cameos, save for maybe Chewy who does share a cleverly humorous scene opposite the now infamous Porgs. Most of the comedy in the script works really well, coming off as as natural and unforced as it ever has, especially when it comes to anything involving Domhnall Gleeson's put-upon General Hux, with the actor actually in on the joke this time around.

Despite General Leia Organa spending much of the film's first half incapacitated, the late Carrie Fisher, as promised, is given a substantial role this time around, even as each of her scenes carry a  certain weight in wondering if it's her last. As the glue that holds the Resistance together, she makes her additional screen time count and becomes far more instrumental to the story than most predicted. Even when not on screen, the character's a presence and Johnson crafts a far more emotionally fitting send-off for the actress than that jarring non-appearance as a CGI avatar at the end of Rogue One. Oddly, this wasn't a send-off for the character, who strangely survives through the end of the film despite numerous opportunities to rather easily write her out. Talk about a surprise.     


In a successfully odd and inspired bit of casting, a purple-haired Laura Dern steps in as Leia's temporary surrogate Admiral Holdo, more than holding her own in this universe and proving to be strongest of the new additions. Her casual but stern demeanor plays well against Oscar Isaac's hotheaded pilot, Poe Dameron,who has a more developed arc than you'd expect, undergoing a transformation throughout that puts the character in a more intriguing place than simply the "hero" role he played in the last film. In fact, one of the better, overlooked aspects of Johnson's screenplay is that at least most of the major characters have clearly identifiable arcs, even amidst all the quibbling as to where some of those lead.

The only important character who takes a noticeable drop-off in importance is Finn who, through no fault of John Boyega's, can't help but feel like an expendable accessory following the purposeful, spirited introduction he had in The Force Awakens with his engaging fish-out-of-water plot. His one moment comes in a lightsaber duel with Gwendoline Christie's Captain Phasma, who's quickly emerged as the new Boba Fett by being a relatively minor character whose popularity can be attributed to a really cool costume.

While Finn still has some interesting interplay with Benicio del Toro's stuttering codebreaker, DJ, being separated from Rey hurts him the most since so much of his impact inthe previous film came in those scenes opposite her. But even taking into account my reservations about the ultimate purpose it serves in the film's final scene, the Canto Bight excursion is a really fun detour in the vain of A New Hope's Cantina, and Kelly Marie Tran's Rose is a fun, spunky new character who unfortunately seems marked for death the second she appears.

That Rose doesn't perish should be a shock, if only we cared. And that's the biggest problem. The plot that eats up the most amount of running time feels like a placeholder as we we wait to return to one of the most well-written, directed and performed storylines in the franchise's history. In fact, it's so superior to the other aspect of this production that it superficially magnifies even the tiniest flaws with everything else. There isn't a moment when Finn and Rose are on screen when you're not wondering when they're going to get back to Kylo, Luke and Rey.

In a storyline brimming with possibilities, Luke's training of Rey, and both their relationships to Kylo Ren/Ben Solo, is masterfully executed, taking us back to the classic template of the original Star Wars trilogy in a way no film has managed since. With more considerably more mileage and experience behind him now, Hamill brings an undeniable gravitas to the role of Luke that wasn't there before, and despite many complaining about the character becoming a grouch or turning his back on the ways of the Jedi, it make sense. As does his distrust of Rey, who he believes will eventually betray him as Ben Solo did. Of course, we find out that's not completely true through a series of brilliant Rashomon-style flashbacks that present three different perspectives on the inciting event that caused the creation of Kylo Ren. It's really the first time the audience has been seriously challenged to question Luke's morality, and it's a testament to both Hamill and Driver's performances that we are.

With two sides to the same story and the truth landing somewhere in the middle, true nail-biting suspense is built up in finding out whether Rey or Ben will turn to the other side, as each attempts to flip the other. With Rey's calling to the Dark Side ringing louder and more believably than ever (resulting in an unforgettable sequence involving mirror images) while Ben internalizes Snoke's disappointment at his apparent softening due to the guilt of killing his father and lingering attachment to his mother.

What's most clever about all this is how it works on a number of meta levels by having Snoke acknowledge fan criticisms of Kylo Ren as a Vader wannabe and being defeated by the inexperienced Rey in the last film. She and Ben clearly share a strong, unspoken bond that goes beyond being mere adversaries, communicating telepathically as he tries to seduce her into seeing the world his way and vice versa. So palpable is their chemistry, you start to wonder whether they're literally seducing one another, as there's this sexual undercurrent to their relationship that uncomfortably brings to mind the fact we're still unaware of Rey's lineage.

Johnson has fun teasing us with Rey's parentage and playing with fears that the two will be revealed as siblings before pulling the rug out. It comes as a relief when it's revealed that she's essentially a nobody, not only because the idea that everyone has to be genetically linked is patently ridiculous, but it gives Ben another card to play in claiming he's the only one who sees her as a "somebody." It's with all this to unpack that Rey and Kylo Ben eventually arrive in Snoke's blood red Throne Room for their moment of reckoning in a sequence that draws heavily from the legendary Vader turn at the conclusion of Return of the Jedi. But it's an important distinction to make that Johnson doesn't try to duplicate it in any way, as the battle feels as if it belongs entirely to this film, with his writing and direction at a level that more appropriately earns a comparison to Luke's and Vader's Cloud City confrontation in Empire.

While it's hard to overstate how much Ridley and Driver wring out of each other and the material, the CG presentation of the creepy, frightening Snoke only helps their cause, far surpassing Andy Serkis' unsuccessful holographic cameo in Episode VII. Not only does The Throne Room scene closes with a shockingly unprecedented moment of brutality for the franchise that turns the story upside down. Or does it?  With neither willing to give in or back down to the others' beliefs, Rey and Ben find themselves back at exactly where they started: On opposite sides. It's now Luke who must face down his ultimate challenge in Kylo Ren. Getting that character to the point where he's at Vader level didn't seem like a possibility a film ago, but now thanks to Driver and the writing, he's alarmingly close. And with Ridley further building on the already solid foundation built for Rey, she stands on her own in a way she didn't a film prior. So while it seems as if the story merely reset itself, it's with characters internally transformed by what's happened here. 

The concept of the Force, which has fluctuated wildly in use and explanation throughout the series, is strongly presented and examined here, lacking in the occasional ridiculousness of previous entries. It's made clear that Rey hasn't yet mastered it and why, and Yoda's holographic appearance from beyond the grave is at least partially successful in so far as looking less like the computerized abomination we saw in the prequels, if still not exactly resembling the iconic Frank Oz creation we all loved from Empire.

While getting the climactic showdown we've always wanted with a seemingly invincible Luke battling Kylo Ren on the red-soiled planet Crait, it comes with a major caveat. Luke's Force projection takes the dive, as his physically spent body remains on Ahch-To, exiting the series as he entered it: Staring into the sunset, before disappearing for good. Taken at face value, I actually don't have a huge problem with Luke sacrificing himself to insure a future for the Resistance and the eventual title character.

Skywalker's arc came to its logical conclusion while Hamill delivers the dark, conflicted performance we've always wished for, becoming the film's centerpiece and beating heart, but in a far different manner than in the original trilogy. The final moment he shares with Leia can be seen as the ultimate symbolic gesture that the franchise is moving forward without them. Almost as sure an indication as a bitter Luke tossing his lightsaber was of Johnson's intentions to completely deconstruct this universe.

What's potentially problematic is a franchise without Han, Luke and Leia, and betting the new characters are ready to move to the forefront. Two of them surely are, while the jury's still out on the rest. That, along with pacing and editing issues, is where the film flounders most. And yet, while the sum of its parts is arguably greater than the whole, it's too sprawling and ambitious to not have staying power. There's nothing "average" about it, as it visually stuns while deepening the characters and mythology. Rian Johnson did his job. It wasn't to send every hardcore fan home happy, or take a safe, risk-free route that paves the way for a smooth, predictable Episode IX. It was to shake things up. Be careful what you wish for.     

Star Wars: The Force Awakens

Director: J.J. Abrams
Starring: Harrison Ford, Mark Hamill, Carrie Fisher, Adam Driver, Daisy Ridley, John Boyega, Oscar Isaac, Lupita Nyong'o, Andy Serkis, Domhnall Gleeson, Anthony Daniels, Peter Mayhew, Max von Sydow, Gwendoline Christie
Running Time: 135 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

                                         **Spoiler Warning: The Following Review Contains Some Plot Spoilers**
 
If conventional wisdom is to be believed,  the colossal cultural success of 1977's Star Wars permanently altered the cinematic landscape by ushering in the blockbuster era we're still living in today. For better or worse, every studio tried to duplicate it in some form or another without truly grasping the elements that initially made it work. Unfortunately, its biggest, most shameless imitator may have been George Lucas, whose uncompromising death grip on his own franchise caused him to eventually destroy it. It's a career trajectory that eerily resembles Darth Vader's, as a rebellious young man frustrated by the corporate machine rises to power, only to eventually evolve into the very thing he despises most. It's a parallel not lost on the filmmaker, who's even commented on it himself in various interviews. Anyone looking to pinpoint the source of today's movie industry woes needn't look further than the infamous prequels. They made it okay for overhyped films with expensive effects to rake in truckloads of money, regardless of quality.

Watching J.J. Abrams resuscitation of the franchise, Star Wars: The Force Awakens, you can't help but wonder what George Lucas must have been thinking while sitting in that theater during the premiere. He finally did the right thing by relinquishing the reins to Disney and in doing so freed up another filmmaker to give movie fans the experience they always wanted, but he stubbornly refused to deliver. And ironically, it's a movie so slavishly devoted to the original trilogy that it kind of cements his legacy, as difficult and complicated as it may be.

It's far easier to root for Abrams, a skilled, if previously indistinct director who suddenly has to deliver the movie of his life in the clutch. And does he ever, by not only faithfully recreating the look and even recalling the plot of A New Hope, but triggering all the sensory feelings we had watching it. In fact, it's probably the closest we're ever going to get to seeing what a modern, shot-by-shot remake would look like without literally getting one. Some are calling it a retread. Others are saying it amounts to nothing more than fan service You can call it whatever you want but Abrams delivers exactly what's asked of him, doing right by a franchise that needed someone to step up and make smart choices.

In making the strongest, most satisfying installment since The Empire Strikes Back, Abrams follows through on his promise of more practical effects and a return to basic, character-driven storytelling. It's clear from the opening crawl that Abrams, a lifelong fan, is interested in blending the old and new, it's also the first time we can say a Star Wars movie some contains great performances. And not just great for a Star Wars movie. Providing pure, old school entertainment that greatly differs from the excessive emptiness of contemporary blockbusters, it wisely leaves us with more questions than answers, establishing a strong framework for the franchise to successfully move forward in the same awe-inspiring manner the original trilogy did.

Thirty years after the events of Return of the Jedi and destruction of the Death Star, Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) has vanished and in his absence the First Order has risen from the remains of the fallen Empire. Led by the masked, Vader-worshipping Kylo Ren (Adam Driver), they seek to find and destroy Luke and topple the Republic. To do so, they'll have to obtain a map to Luke's whereabouts, located inside Resistance pilot Poe Dameron's (Oscar Isaac) droid, BB-8. But when Ren and his Stormtroopers destroy Poe's Jakku village and take him captive, the droid escapes, coming across scavenger Rey (Daisy Ridley) in the desert. Soon, she encounters Finn (John Boyega), a Stormtrooper on the run whose conscience won't allow him to kill for the First Order. With Ren on their tail and desperately wanting possession of that map, they'll need help from some familiar faces to evade capture and hopefully discover the location of Luke Skywalker.

As much that goes on in this story, at its crux is something very simple that directly relates to the original trilogy, while still feeling like a very natural continuation of it. By centering the plot around the search for Luke a entirely new set of dramatic possibilities are introduced in a matter of minutes, letting us speculate on the events that happened post-Return of the Jedi that could have led to this. Just reading on the screen that Luke Skywalker has vanished  instantaneously invokes a reaction that harkens back to past, while effectively creating a scenario that lays the groundwork on which these next three films can be built.

The script (co-penned by Abrams and The Empire Strikes Back screenwriter Lawrence Kasdan) ingeniously presents Luke as almost a mythological figure, spoken about in hushed, muted tones by the newer characters who aren't quite sure whether he or The Force even exists. Hamill's mysterious absence from all print and commercial advertising for the film becomes clear very early on, as does the sound reasoning behind it. By hiding him for nearly the entire running time, Luke's importance grows to the point that his eventual appearance is practically transcendent. And it's all because of the journey taken to get there through Rey, Finn and BB-8.

Without giving too much away, there's hardly a moment in any scene that doesn't contain some kind of technical or narrative homage to the '77 film or its sequels, whether it be the scene transitions, John Williams' classic musical cues, a setting or even just sometimes a random character in the background Abrams took the time and effort to subtly squeeze in. And he doesn't digitally shoehorn them in for no reason, making sure their presence, no matter how large or small, makes sense within the context they appear. If extensive fan service is the worst problem this film has, we should all consider ourselves lucky since Abrams spares no expense in addressing the very real creative problems that torpedoed this franchise. It's great to see actual  land again, as well as real dirt. And real people instead of computerized trickery. It's unlikely that anyone thought we'd be seeing bloodshed of any kind, but that's just what we get in the opening minutes, upping the stakes considerably.

As familiar as many things are, it doesn't feel like a carbon copy because it serves to only enhance and underline what is new and original. It can't be stressed enough just how much the previously unknown Daisy Ridley is asked to shoulder as Rey, supplying the entire story with its beating heart and soul in a performance that can only be described as revelatory. As the scavenger unwittingly thrown into the battle between the First Order and the Republic, she's as essential as Luke was to the original, even if that comparison unfairly implies the character is in any way derivative. Tough and strong-willed but instantly likable and vulnerable, Ridley makes Rey so easy to pull for it's almost impossible to comprehend the results had another actress been cast.

Rey shares most of her screen time with a droid, as BB-8's importance and involvement in the action rivals that of any human character over the course of any of the previous six films.  Looking like a robotic soccer ball with a head and a winning personality to spare, it might be Abrams' most inventive creation, and a character completely on par with C-3PO (Anthony Daniels) and R2-D2. And about half-way through it occurred to me that if Artoo didn't appear at all I'd be okay with it since he's essentially been replaced. Though, it's hardly a spoiler to say he eventually shows up. It tougher to talk about Oscar Isaac's smaller role as Resistance pilot Poe Dameron, but with minimal screen time, he slips right into the Star Wars universe, as natural a fit as any of the original players. 

The sarcastic humor and witty one-liners absent from the prequels are back, with much of it coming from John Boyega's Finn, whose backstory is only touched upon, but intriguing in the sense that we get to know the person behind a Stormtrooper mask. It's a luxury we've never been afforded, having long been depicted as nameless, faceless killing machines in previous installments. They still mostly are, but what happens when one of them can't kill or doesn't believe in what he's fighting for? It's a clever idea, with the bumbling Finn going from scene to scene constantly overwhelmed by every situation, until he can find his way, with Rey's help.

Boyega's strongest and funniest scenes are opposite Harrison Ford, who reappears as Han Solo as if no time has passed at all, slipping right back into the role that initially made the actor a household name. The character isn't dour or cranky, but the same smuggler and smooth liar we remember, with Abrams getting the absolute most out of Ford as Han that he can. You believe this is exactly where the character would be and it feels like a natural continuation of his story rather a nostalgic money grab. In other words, it's no Crystal Skull.

Abrams and company seem to have found the perfect balance between introducing new characters and using already existing ones to bolster their stories. This even extends to Chewbacca (Peter Mayhew), who has more to do here than ever, and the now General Leia Organa, whom Carrie Fisher plays with a more reserved, stately bent. Her scenes with Ford are an emotional highlight, even if it's hard to not wish there we got more of them. As for Hamill, he does appear, and while I'll withhold the details, it's pretty impressive how moving it is and the work that went into earning it. It's safe to say it actually may have worth waiting every one of those thirty years to get this moment.    

With only a few notable exceptions along the way, the acting was never a strong point in the original trilogy, while in the prequels it was often a flat-out embarrassment. Add Adam Driver to the list of exceptions as Kylo Ren, giving what's easily the most complete performance in the film. And as terrifying as he is under the mask, he's somehow even creepier after removing it. Having to follow Darth Vader isn't an easy task and at first glance it's easy to think this is merely a variation on that character,  but the more we learn about him, the deeper and more complex he gets. The script plays fast and loose with his identity, putting it all out there and letting Driver just go to town, having these moments that times make the character appear pitiful and sympathetic. And it works really well, leaving a lasting impact that should carry over into the next two films, and possibly beyond.

If forced to nitpick what's practically a flawless effort from Abrams, there are really only two issues. An Emperor-like, holographic GGI character called the Supreme Leader Snoke voiced by Andy Serkis in a performance that would be a far better fit in the Lord of the Rings trilogy than this. It's especially out of place and jarring after the renewed commitment to more practical effects carried out so well throughout the rest of the film.

Lupita Nyong'o's Maz Kanata is the more successful CGI, motion capture creation, even if I could do without them making characters like this a habit moving forward. It just brings back too many painful Jar Jar memories. On the plus side, at least Snoke's only a hologram and we're left with the feeling there could be more detailed explanation (excuse?) for his existence down the road. The more intriguing second-tier villain is Gwendoline Christie's Cobra Commander-like Captain Phasma, who we could easily stand to see more of. And given the choice, the first half of the film is slightly stronger than the second and a few of the longer action scenes could have probably been trimmed by a couple of minutes, but I'm admittedly grasping at straws here.       

At this point, anything written about The Force Awakens can't help but come off as a regurgitation since everyone who's seen it knows how good it is. It's a Star Wars movie to its core and skillfully sets the table for what's to follow. And as dark as this is, there's good reason to believe its sequel could be even darker given the director attached and what seems like Abrams' unwavering loyalty to the trajectory of the original trilogy. While I still believe releasing spin-off movies during off years is a terrible idea that overexposes the brand, there are few prospects more exciting than seeing a Rian Johnson-directed sequel to this film with Mark Hamill in an expanded role.

After envisioning for years what a follow-up to Return of the Jedi would look like, it's safe to say what ended up on screen met, if not surpassed, the highest expectations. And that's coming from only a moderate fan who went in with considerable skepticism after feeling burned by Lucas' prequels, which will likely now fade from memory, if they haven't already. It's true that this is about as close to a modern remake of the 1977 film that we're going to get. And that's not a bad thing. Lucas has called it "retro" and he's right. But we've already witnessed his definition of "new" so it's hard to blame Disney for passing on his offer for assistance, especially considering these results. When he owned Star Wars he could do with it as he chose, just as we were free to criticize those controversial decisions. But with The Force Awakens, J.J. Abrams brings to the forefront the revelation that Lucas hasn't really owned his own creation for a while now. Signing it over to the fans was just a formality.
                                          

Inside Llewyn Davis

Directors: Joel and Ethan Coen
Starring: Oscar Isaac, Carey Mulligan, John Goodman, Garrett Hedlund, Justin Timberlake, F. Murray Abraham, Stark Sands, Adam Driver, Max Casella, Ethan Phillips
Running Time: 105 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

The biggest surprise about Inside Llewyn Davis is just how narrow its focus is. The title should have probably been our first clue. This is a character study to the core. And it's a difficult, challenging one we should have known was coming since it's from the Coen brothers. And that will still don't see it coming is the greatest thing about it. What's surprising is just how unconventional it is, even by their standards. Anyone expecting an overview of the early 60's Greenwich Village folk scene and spoon fed warm, fuzzy feelings of nostalgia associated that period should probably search elsewhere. Which isn't to say they don't nail the time period completely in look, sound and everything else accompanying it. There is one brush with history, and while it's a big one, it's handled so nonchalantly that it hardly draws attention to itself. The Coens have nothing to prove. No one to impress. They just know exactly what they're doing, even when we haven't the slightest clue. Sometimes it's best to just trust the audience to figure things out.

Despite its subject being loosely based on late folk singer Dave Van Ronk (and his posthumously published 2005 memoir, The Mayor of MacDougal Street) this isn't Van Ronk biopic. That his ex-wife has criticized the film for being untruthful or inaccurate makes little sense considering it's not about him. By all accounts, Van Ronk was a well-liked guy with few (or any) of the problems this protagonist deals with. It's the trajectory of his career that provides the inspiration more than anything else. He's the jumping off point. Fame may have eluded him, but he wasn't a failure. Inside Llewyn Davis is all about failure and what it means. Or rather how thin the line separating failure and success can be. There were many more Dave Van Ronks than Bob Dylans, which makes one wonder if some strange combination of luck, opportunity, skill, timing or motivation caused the former to fade into obscurity while the latter became a legend? The film doesn't attempt to make sense of that because you can't. The Coens wisely choose not to try, and by doing that, somehow do.  

At one point Llewyn Davis (Oscar Isaac) is told, rather pointedly, that he doesn't have the innate charisma or connection with the audience to ever become a successful solo act in the business. It's clearer to us even earlier that he just might not have the ability to connect with people at all in any capacity. Llewyn was one half of a semi-popular folk duo with musical partner, Mike Timlin (sung by Mumford and Sons' Marcus Mumford), who killed himself jumping off the George Washington Bridge. At this rate, he's headed in the same direction, with his life stuck in an endless loop of mooching off friends who probably should have stopped tolerating him a while ago. What's saddest and darkly comical about the situation is how talented he actually is and how little that seems to matter.

The film's opening, in which he sings a gut-wrenching rendition of "Hang Me, Oh Hang Me" at the Gaslight wins us over immediately, and we'll stay on his side even as it's clear later the lengths he'll go to squander that potential. His manager isn't paying him. His sister hates him. And now he's stuck with an orange cat belonging to his friends the Gorfeins, whose Upper West Side apartment he's just crashed at. But his most fractured relationship is with folk singer and ex-flame Jean (Carey Mulligan), who he impregnated in spite of her being married to good friend Jim (Justin Timberlake). Short on money and with a solo recording deal far out of reach, Llewyn has to choose between what he considers "selling out" to pursue a music career, or abandoning it altogether. What's so tragicomic is how he somehow finds a way to royally screw up both options. He's just one of those guys where nothing he does seems to go right no matter how hard he tries. And, admittedly, he isn't even trying very hard since he doesn't care, or maybe cares a little too much, with very few definitive actions backing it up.

It's one hilarious catastrophe after the next that leads him to desperately take Timberlake's Jim up on his invitation to join he and Al Cody (Adam Driver) to record a goofy, folk-pop song called "Please, Mr. Kennedy." A lot has already been said and written about the scene and song being the film's defining (and funniest) moment, and it is, but it's interesting to look at it from the perspective of what qualified as embarrassingly bad commercial music that appealed to the masses in the early '60's. The real irony might be that the ridiculously catchy, borderline brilliant song is about ten times better than anything that would even pass as legitimately good pop music today. It really isn't bad, but the performances from the three actors as they discuss and prepare to deliver it in the scene's context makes it seem like the silliest song ever written. In any other context, it's amazing. But Llewyn is truly mortified having to perform it, before unintentionally sabatoging what could have been his only big payout with a lack of business acumen.

As much action that takes place in a time specific New York, the strangest section of the film actually occurs on the way to Chicago, as Llewyn hitches a ride with a James Dean-like beat poet named Johnny Five (Garrett Hedlund) and his passenger, the cranky, belligerent jazz musician Roland Turner (John Goodman, in top form), who spends the entire road trip hurling insults and telling nonsensical stories. I'm guessing this is the place where the movie probably loses a lot of perplexed audience members, but anyone familiar with the Coens work will instantly recognize it as the most Coen-like part of this whole absurd, but strangely moving adventure that's brimming at the rim with eccentric characters.

The casting of Oscar Isaac was a masterstroke because we don't really know who he is and doesn't bring the baggage a bigger, more established name would. Watching him as Llewyn is like seeing (and of course listening) to him for the first time, since few are likely to even recognize the actor from his supporting roles in movies like Drive. He's the star of the show playing a depressed character who lacks the charisma and drive to ever be the star of the show. Think how difficult that must be. And yet, against all odds, he manages to make this selfish, angry guy completely likable every step of the way. There wasn't a moment I wasn't rooting for him to pull out of this rut, even as the chances of that continue to diminish with each passing disaster. And boy can Isaac ever sing. I'd say he should release a folk album but he already did. It's the soundtrack to this movie which, top to bottom, feels like a legitimate folk release from the early '60's. Everyone in this does their own singing with famed producer T-Bone Burnett again turning in revelatory work by seamlessly replicating the music of the period.

In a way, it also feels like we're discovering the better known Carey Mulligan for the first time since seeing her play a morose, angry character who curses like a sailor would seem about a thousand paces removed for her if not for the added layer of vulnerability she infuses her with. Timberlake, as usual, proves there are few limits to what he can do as a performer in any medium, as it's unlikely anyone suspected he'd be able to believably portray one half of a folk duo with Mulligan and that they'd look and sound so authentic.

"Play me something from Inside Llewyn Davis," requests record producer Bud Grossman (F. Murray Abraham) when the singer arrives to meet him in Chicago. Llewyn responds by pouring his heart out with the beautifully depressing "The Death of Queen Jane," an eerily appropriate song selection given his current state. It's only upon reflection that this becomes the most important scene of the film, likely stinging quite a bit for anyone who's suffered for their art, been judged, or faced the pain of rejection. So basically everyone. Ultimately, does it matter whether this producer thinks there's any "money" in this? Are his criticisms valid or is he just on a power trip at Llewyn's expense? One could argue that if he truly had the passion and fire in his belly to see this through then it wouldn't have mattered to him one bit what this producer thought. If he loved making music he wouldn't he continue doing it, even if it meant temporarily finding another means of income? That's the big question mark. His talent is not.

A big fuss has been made by some about how a big a jerk this character is, but so was Bob Dylan, and we liked him. So that can't be it. History is written by the winners, even if the losers are often losers for a reason. Llewyn isn't quite as unlikable as he's been accused, or even as unlikable as some of the other characters he shares this Greenwich Village universe with. He's just badly floundering. Defeated by life and himself. The film's ending (which I won't dare spoil here) almost seems like a cruel (but wickedly hilarious) cosmic joke, reminding us that sometimes it really is only about being at the right place at the right time. And a bunch of other cards lining up just right. None of them have for this guy, partially by his own doing. The film does this loopy thing with time, folding over on itself and suggesting he may never break out of this cycle, opening up what was a relatively simple story for a variety of differing interpretations.

Admittedly it takes a while for this whole experience to settle in because there's so much more going on than first appears on the surface and I'm still not sure I've processed all of it. That final scene is a real zinger. We like to be on the winning team and watching movies about success make us feel good. But the few movies made about failure usually end up being deeper and more interesting. There are a limited number of ways to achieve, but no bounds to the amount of seemingly improbable ways someone can't. Llewyn Davis has most of them covered, and in showing that, the Coens give us exactly the '60's folk film we didn't know we wanted, or even necessarily deserved.

The 10 Best Alternative Drive Movie Posters

Conspicuously absent from my annual post highlighting 2011's best and worst movie posters was the critically adored Drive, a film many (including myself) would rank amongst the very best of the year. Never an easy sell and seemingly destined for cult classic status from the start, its commercial failure could be chalked up to the studio just simply not knowing what they had, or at least being able to articulate it in a manner that would entice audiences to see it. The result was a confused print campaign featuring a Ryan Gosling-centric character poster that strangely misrepresents and epitomizes the film's retro style all at the same time. It's not terrible, but good luck finding it hanging anywhere other than a teen girl's bedroom. Another one clumsily repositioned it as some kind of lost entry in the Fast and Furious franchise and its DVD/Blu-Ray cover art is just flat-out embarrassing, not to mention inaccurate (the scorpion's not on the front of the jacket!). So artists and fans came up with designs of their own and I've rounded up the best ones below, with a top pick so extraordinary it was wisely approved by the studio for release as an official poster for the film. Whatever anyone thinks of the movie, it's impossible to deny its iconic images and motifs inspired some really creative designs. Wherever possible I've tried to include links to the artists and their work, some of which is available for purchase.

10. by Peter Gagic

9. by Rich Andrews (Empire Design)

8. by Vincent Gabriele

7. by Mike Horowitz

6. by Louis Fernando Cruz

5. by Louis Fernando Cruz

4. by Cory Schmitz

3. by Phil Noto

2. by Ken Taylor

 *Downloadable Blu-Ray Cover
 1. by James White (Signal Noise Studio)

Runners-Up:

by Cory Schmitz

by Cory Schmitz

by Vincent Gabriele

by Louis Fernando Cruz

by Scott Hopko (Hopko Designs)

by Adri Ncde

by Timo Lessmollmann

by Edward B.G.

by Masse Hjeltman

by Pierrot Neron

 

 by Drew Wise

Drive

Director: Nicolas Winding Refn 
Starring: Ryan Gosling, Carey Mulligan, Albert Brooks, Bryan Cranston, Oscar Isaac, Christina Hendricks, Ron Perlman 
Running Time: 100 min. 
Rating: R  

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

I guess there really is a first time for everything. Watching Drive I was so shocked by the nature of the violence I nearly had to turn away. This seems like a strange reaction given there isn't necessarily a huge amount. Many movies have more. It's all about context. Slow, methodical and hypnotizing, the film builds a groundswell of tension, meticulously exploring every character and emotion until the violence finally arrives. And when it arrives, it's scary as hell. Because we care about the characters, the over-the-top carnage becomes that much more unsettling. Half set-up, the other half pay-off, director Nicolas Winding Refn uses spare parts from decades past to construct a compelling crime drama that's substance is its style. A likely modern classic that actually places demands on its audience, it's a virtual a love letter to the movies that couldn't come at a better time. Those claiming the film's enamored with its own coolness aren't completely wrong, just neglect to mention it earns the right by actually being that cool.

Far from your typical action thriller it stars Ryan Gosling whose nameless Driver finds himself at the center of a gathering storm. The plot is as bare bones as it gets, relying on a unfortunate coincidence that spirals out of control. As a mechanic and part-time stunt driver for B-movies who moonlights as a getaway man, Driver's precision and attention to detail is on full display in a brilliant prologue where he helps two burglars evade the cops. The entire sequence, set to Cliff Martinez's retro infused synthesizer score lays out the ground rules and takes us into his isolated world, soon to be shattered. Just as he falls hard for his new neighbor Irene (Carey Mulligan) and befriends her young son Benecio (Kaden Leos), her husband Standard (Oscar Isaac) is released from prison and wants to make amends, but he's made a few enemies who are now threatening his family's safety. Out of unspoken loyalty to Irene and Benecio, Driver agrees to a dangerous robbery that goes horribly wrong, engulfing him in a cat-and-mouse game where he must risk his life to protect them. At the same time he's also recruited to do some racing for friend and boss Shannon (Bryan Cranston) who makes a crooked deal with former movie producer Bernie Rose (Albert Brooks) and his sleazy associate Nino (Ron Perlman). 

When you strip the narrative down to its bare essentials it's a crime thriller populated with the kinds of characters we're used to seeing take a backseat to computer generated effects, high-speed chases and explosions. We get dozens of those every year, some worse than others, with only a few standing out from the pack. Refn instead takes a methodical, atmospheric approach and there's a good chance more casual moviegoers used to being slammed with action in the face at a mile a minute will find it slow and boring. They're entitled to their opinion, but may want to consider the alternative which would have provided a quick high before completely fading from the memory. If anything, this is the kind of film guaranteed to grow in stature over repeated viewings since it's only after you've witnessed the mayhem unleashed in the second half does everything leading up to it seem that much more tragic.

Driver is an action hero in the mold of a Steve McQueen or Clint Eastwood in that he lets his actions do the talking but Gosling does something different with the character that goes well beyond that. He suggests Driver could be a shy introvert that behaves how he does not as a tactic, but because it's who he is. You get the impression something may even be socially off with him and that the emotional connection he forms with this mother and her son could be the closest thing he's had to a real connection with anyone in his life. In fact, he's so quiet and reserved there are moments where we question whether he has feelings for Irene at all beyond just helping, and if he does, whether he's interested or even capable of acting on them. There are a lot of ways to read their relationship and it helps having two top pros in Gosling and Mulligan, conveying more in long stretches of silence than most other actors can with pages of dialogue. Just him stopping over at her apartment for a glass of water feels like an epic event.

While Gosling isn't big in stature, he registers just the right kind of intensity for the role, never making Driver seem flustered, even when he's delivering or receiving the bloodiest of beatdowns. One of the biggest downfalls of recent action movies is the rise of the "pretty boy" plugged in as an insufficient lead to sell tickets instead of kick ass. He proves here beyond a doubt he isn't that and after teetering on the brink of super greatness for a while now, gives the performance that pushes him over the edge into the upper echelon, solidifying him among the best of his generation.  Many have already pointed out that Mulligan seems miscast as Irene and that's exactly the point. It's an intentional miscast meant to throw us off balance as no one would expect the actress who radiates as much warmth and innocence to be trapped in the middle of this dirty, sadistic L.A. underworld. Had anyone else played the role it's likely I wouldn't have cared but her presence transforms a part that's too often one-dimensional in crime thrillers. It's no mystery why Driver seems to instantly fall for her and is willing to sacrifice everything to keep her and Benecio safe.

Cast even more heavily against type, legendary comedian Albert Brooks is absolutely terrifying as mob boss Bernie Rose. He's only in a few choice scenes, but boy are they disturbing, especially one he shares with Cranston so tense it's almost difficult to watch. Abandoning his usual comic persona, his character's the embodiment of pure evil and his slick, cold, business-like demeanor is the antithesis of Gosling's everyman hero. Given the rare opportunity to sink his teeth into a vastly different kind of role, it's a thrill seeing Brooks subvert expectations, providing an uncomfortable contrast in a film that completely revolving around uncomfortable contrasts. It wouldn't be off the mark to describe it as an 80's style romance that careens into blood soaked tragedy. That Refn can make those two wildly divergent genres co-exist in perfect harmony is perplexing but the neon pink opening titles and retro electronic pop soundtrack (featuring Kavinsky's "Night Call" and even more memorably College's "A Real Hero") not only fit right in, but feel just as integral to the story as the characters themselves.

This is exactly the kind of movie you can picture Quentin Tarantino kicking himself for not attempting. Could he do it as well?  Possibly, but he'd have to curb his penchant for having his characters talk about how cool it is they're in it rather than building tension and suspense. This is the result when the right director, cast and material all come together at once, and it's poor box office performance isn't a huge surprise given the polarizing risks Refn takes. It's just too challenging, representing the type of film mainstream audiences have been programmed to hate after being weened on truckloads of generic Hollywood garbage each year. Now when something's finally done right, it feels wrong, if only for daring to be different. Drawing from a myriad of influences that suggest it was transported from another era, Drive still feels wholly authentic and original, proving that action and violence mean little without an investment in the characters.