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Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)
Some kind of a miracle
When I first came out of Fury Road, I wasn't sure what to think, nor did I know how the critics would respond to it. The critics spoke–and were nearly unanimous in their praise. But I knew I had to see it again for myself, to see if I would be swept up in the chorus of praise, or if, in sorrow, I would have to admit the film I had so longed to see, the film so many deemed a masterpiece, was in fact unworthy of its laurels.
But you see those ten stars at the top. You know how this story ends.
I'll say it now–Fury Road is the best film in at least 18 months, and the best summer blockbuster in five years. I delighted at George Miller's "mastermind" billing in the trailers, but it was absolutely justified. He draws on aspects of the original trilogy, from small touches (the little music box, for one) to primary themes–the damning social critique of Mad Max, the relentless brutality of The Road Warrior, and the post-apocalyptic grotesquerie of Beyond Thunderdome. Here, working with a budget far greater than the budgets of the originals combined, he has crafted a film which draws from and, in my opinion, exceeds them.
He, and an incredibly talented team, have made a masterpiece.
Cinematography, editing, score, makeup, production design...all of the highest order. Spot-on acting. Perfect direction. Two full hours and not a wasted moment.
Atlas Shrugged: Part III (2014)
A properly embarrassing end to an embarrassing trilogy.
I've read Atlas Shrugged. Then and now, I've been convinced that one could make a pretty good film out of it. I still think it's doable. But it has not be done. Three times John Aglialoro (the connecting tissue in this misbegotten series, since each entry has different directors and casts) has delivered a film that delivers Rand's message in a wholly deficient dramatic context.
It's like eating flour and calling it bread.
Part I was bad. Part II was worse. Part III might be worse, but let's give credit where credit is due: the cast actually does a passable job. That doesn't mean they weren't miscast; Kristoffer Polaha is all wrong as John Galt, coming off more like a suburban Everyman than a man with the intelligence and ambition to "stop the motor of the world"; Laura Regan is okay as Dagny, but the butchering of the story denies her the full scope of her character.
It's the script that really sinks it. Admittedly, adapting the third part of the novel with any kind of fidelity would requite quite a long film, but this is just pathetic. Much of the film passes in montage, with a narrator filling in far too many gaps. And the final quarter of the novel (from Galt's arrest to the end) is rendered an unholy mess, with plot threads left unfinished or tossed to the winds entirely. The final scene of the novel isn't even shown!
J. James Manera's direction doesn't help; the staging is usually flat and the pace is nothing special either; the film avoids being boring mostly because so many scenes zip by in a matter of seconds. Gale Tattersall's cinematography, the odd shot or two aside, is at the level of low-budget TV; the production design is fatally underfunded, with Mulligan's Valley (excuse me, it's called GALT'S GULCH) looking like a suburban co-op, and an obvious lack of resources visible from start to finish.
The score is laughably overwrought, the editing is sloppy, and the whole thing just looks rushed and cheap. Glenn Beck, Ron Paul, and Sean Hannity make cameo appearances, but they didn't do much else for the film; it looks cheaper than many indie films made for a fraction of its reputed $5 million budget.
And as for the politics, the film merely proves that successful propaganda requires some level of artistic accomplishment. Could anyone be inspired by this? Could any fan of the novel accept it as even remotely worthy of Rand's narrative, let alone her message? I'm not politically inclined to agree with Galt or Rand, but the film doesn't even make a case.
It is, to put it plainly, an embarrassment to all involved. This whole trilogy should be studied as an example of what can happen when enough people are willing to waste enough money and time, though not enough to result in a worthy product.
The Identical (2014)
The first inspirational film without a message?
Let me say, I don't mind schmaltz. I don't at all mind films with a message. But THE IDENTICAL was written by someone with no narrative skill, and the film's clichés are less bothersome than its total failure to make any use of its premise. It's hard to explain how badly the film stumbles in this regard without detailing the plot, but suffice to say I truly see no message that one could take away from it.
Yes, it's a film that details tangentially with faith, but the characters' religious values impact the story in no fundamental way. You could have made the "identical"'s father a lawyer for all the difference it actually makes. And the reference to the Six Day War is a total non sequitur.
But at film's end, no real lessons have been learned (even those who find themselves in the rather unlikely situation that the protagonist faces will find little of value here), no points have been made, and our time has been pretty thoroughly wasted.
I could talk about how bad the performances by Ray Liotta, Seth Green, and Joe Pantoliano are, or how Ashley Judd barely ages over 40+ years, or how the period detail is incredibly haphazard, or how creepy the serenade-courtship scene is, but I'll settle for saying this:
Calling this film inspirational because its characters are Christians is like calling The Wolf of Wall Street patriotic because its characters are Americans.
Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom (2013)
Unacceptable.
This is an unacceptable film. Not because it's incompetently made (it's not), or because it inserts a white protagonist as an "audience surrogate" (it thankfully does not), but because it is totally insufficient as a portrait of one of the most important figures of the 20th century. William Nicholson's script tries to compress over 50 years into 146 minutes, so some simplification is to be expected. But this...there is so little HUMANITY on display here that, when one character cracks a joke about another's snoring, it's off-putting because it's so out of place in this hollow film.
It's bitterly ironic that U2's end-credits song has the lines "We cannot rise any higher/If we cannot feel ordinary love", because this film fails so totally at capturing the ordinary, the emotional, the human. There are speeches, massacres, beatings, bombings, acts of cruelty and acts of resistance to it, but none of it carries any weight except as an illustration of history. No one in the film is developed as a person, so the film never becomes moving. When Mandela learns of his son's death, and we see a brief, golden-hued flashback of him as a boy, we realize we have no idea who he IS--he's just Mandela's son.
The film gives a glimpse of Mandela's faults--we see him committing adultery and striking his first wife when she calls him out--but afterwards, even though we are reminded that she left him, he vaguely says he was too busy with the ANC, and when courting Winnie (Naomie Harris), she says, "But I'm different", and they're married before you know it. I'm not calling for a critical warts-and-all portrait of the man, but Mandela here is all speeches and steadfastness, the sun around which the other characters orbit. In one scene, the ANC members incarcerated with Mandela vote unanimously that he should not speak with the governmental representatives trying to broker an end to the civil conflicts, and he tells them "I will do what I think is right", and ignores their decision. Again, I'm not saying I want a Mandela expose, but this is as close to a hagiography as I've seen in a long time.
And what of Idris Elba's performance? He nails the voice, and in makeup looks remarkably like the man. He evokes the charisma and grace that the real Mandela possessed. But the script gives him so little to work with, has in it so little of Mandela the MAN, that he can ultimately do little but play the image of Mandela. He does this extremely well, but what should have been Elba's greatest achievement is merely making the best of a bad situation.
Harris is even less well served by the material; we see that Winnie advocates violent resistance (there is an on-screen necklacing), but there is nothing behind her defiant expression, and the fault is not Harris'. When she and Mandela have a (tritely written) ideological argument and decide to separate, she is dressed all in cameo, in blatant contrast to Mandela's suit and tie. Afterwards, as he approaches the presidency and makes a televised speech, we see her watching, sipping on a glass of whiskey--the kind of clichéd melodramatic touch this film uses in place of, well, ordinary love.
There are good things here. The production was obviously expensive, and the period detail is effective. Justin Chadwick manages the spectacle decently well, and the cinematography boasts a few decent compositions. The score is solid, and U2's song isn't bad either. I have no TECHNICAL complaints to make--it's not even especially boring, though my attention may have been compelled by my aggravation.
Whatever you think of him, I think you'll agree Nelson Mandela deserves to have his life story put on film. I do not think that has yet been done.
The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (2012)
A Monumental Disappointment; A Tedious Shambles
It begins with a prologue (featuring Ian Holm and Elijah Wood, both looking rather waxy) that accomplishes very little other than delaying the start of the real story. This is followed by an incredibly lengthy introduction to the dwarfs, including the ostensibly heroic Thorin Oakenshield. After our hero (Martin Freeman) initially demurs (eating up more running time), he goes on an adventure, which includes, among other "delights": - A wizard with what appears to be bird dung on the side of his head; - Said wizard giving a hedgehog a contact high; - Said wizard riding in a rabbit-driven sleigh, which could have been effectively whimsical if the context weren't so dull; - Cameos by many of the major players in Lord of the Rings, for no very good reason; - Jarring colloquialisms like "It tastes like chicken" and "Out of the frying pan, into the fire"; - A major climactic battle fought in large part with flaming pine cones; - A vengeful orc with a metal claw for a hand, whose other noteworthy characteristic is paleness; - Slenderman (I think); - A goblin king who looks like Planetship from Battlefield Earth; - A lot of jokes, few of which are particularly funny; - A lot of dwarfs, few of whom are particularly well-defined as characters.
I could also add that Thorin Oakenshield was boring and unlikable, that Bilbo seems to disappear or is relegated to the background for sizable stretches of the film, that the special effects were shockingly weak at times, that virtually no one involved seemed to be passionate about their job, that the script was a lumpy mess, that Howard Shore clearly didn't put much work into writing any new music...
But I'll skip all that and just say I was very bored.
The Devil's Carnival (2012)
Foolish garbage
The characters were total, complete non-entities. I didn't care about them.
The songs ranged from the mediocre to the horrendous; the lyrics were consistently clumsy and silly.
Atmosphere? Mood? Sense of fear, menace, dread? Don't be ridiculous.
Story? Sorry, that's not gonna happen.
And Terrance Zdunich is one DULL Lucifer. Seriously, he does nothing but read to a kid and glower.
I literally have no idea what one could like about this sludge. It's one of the dumbest, lamest, most shamelessly pandering things I've ever seen.
Oh, and it's supposedly the first part of a trilogy. God help us.
The Adventures of the American Rabbit (1986)
It's a film called "The Adventures of the American Rabbit." Come on.
THE ADVENTURES OF THE American RABBIT is so incredibly un-noteworthy I'm vaguely obsessed with it. The idea that something this insubstantial could get a theatrical release is a bit amazing--but then again, I've seen THE OOGIELOVES. In a theater.
What can you really say about a film like this? The plot is so thin that the same things happen two or three times just to fill up the space--and a lot of what goes down is completely irrelevant. This could have been a one-hour TV special, no problem. There's nothing really approaching substance here.
Is there anything to recommend it? Curiosity, I guess. It's well- intentioned (more or less). The villain is kind of cool-looking. It's weird and illogical enough as a whole to be worth laughing at. It's a film called THE ADVENTURES OF THE American RABBIT and it actually got shown in theaters. You can watch it on Netflix, on YouTube, or do your best to imagine it based on the bare plot summary.
If you were stuck watching this, it would be preferable to chewing off your own leg. It would even be preferable to being knocked unconscious. But...yeah.
Argo (2012)
A solid film, not a masterpiece
The film falters most when it forces itself into comic and thriller molds. I was worried that the film would play up the "isn't this SUCH a wacky, harebrained idea" angle, and in the first act, especially the Hollywood scenes, it kind of does. And the third act is guilty of too much overt button-pushing; without giving anything away, a lot of it feels pretty artificial, which would be less of an issue if this weren't ostensibly a true story.
Another fault I found was how thinly drawn the hostages actually were. I never really felt like they were particularly rounded as individuals, and the one with the most dialogue (Joe Stafford, I'm pretty sure) did little more than fret and grouse. By not developing the hostages as characters, the film undercuts, in my view, its own stakes and whatever level of emotional involvement the audience may have had.
With all that, I still thought it was a well-made film; Affleck's direction isn't outstanding, but the film moves smoothly, the suspense is decently well-managed (the script may be more to blame than anything else), it's technically solid (some iffy CGI aside), and the acting is just fine. Affleck is muted, but that's acceptable for the role of Mendez; Bryan Cranston, Alan Arkin, and John Goodman all do quite well, and I personally wish they had more to do. The rest of the cast do just fine, but they aren't given quite enough to work with.
And that's what I think might ultimately hurt the film's Oscar chances; there's no performance in the film to really latch onto. Arkin is being pegged as a contender, but he really doesn't have THAT much to do; the acting is perfectly fine, but really, I find ARGO to be a solid thriller and not much more.
Perhaps what the film should've done is focused less on the suspense and more on the psychology of role-playing. Playing these parts was a matter of life and death for these people; that was a theme the film should dug into deeper.
And maybe that's why I didn't love ARGO; it doesn't have much real depth to it. It's enjoyable, it's well-made, but
there's not too much at the core.
Looper (2012)
Extremely uneven; much to recommend, much to shake one's head over
Since I've already warned about spoilers, I might as well start with this: I didn't care for the ending. Cid has already caused the deaths of two people and seems to be filled with dangerous anger–could he not, still, become the Rainmaker? We've already seen Old Joe kill one child, and he was clearly distraught over doing it–he's not an indiscriminate slaughterer–so the reasoning behind Young Joe's suicide is
what, exactly? Why not just kill Old Joe and stay with Sara and Cid, keeping an eye on him to make sure he doesn't go bad? The people who were after him are all dead–so why not live a happy life with Sara? The ending really, as far as I'm concerned, can't stand up to scrutiny.
My other gripes with the film were less significant, but still worth noting. Emily Blunt isn't bad, but
who thought casting her as a Kansas housewife was a good idea? Sara isn't a terribly well written character either–her deflated toughness early on is pretty hoary–but the casting of Blunt just seems random.
Rian Johnson's writing here and there gets really heavy-handed, and worse, he makes surprisingly little use of the whole time-travel premise. The RT consensus calls it "uncommonly smart"
compared to what, exactly? There's some cleverness at work here, yes, but UNCOMMONLY smart? I don't see it.
Finally, Paul Dano. Are we supposed to like his character? He's ridiculously annoying, hammy, and all-around tiresome. It's hard to believe he would have been an especially viable hit-man to begin with, but that's irrelevant; what IS relevant is the question of how much sympathy we're meant to feel for him. I felt none, although the scene where is older self is being slowly dismembered while trying to reach his torturers is one of the best in the film.
With all that out of the way, what did I LIKE about the film? Joseph Gordon-Levitt was good, Bruce Willis was good (although his presence just underscores the superiority of 12 Monkeys, a very similar film), Jeff Daniels was fun to see
the hedonistic montage early on was excellent, Joe's 30 years in Shanghai was a compelling bit of montage as well, the action scenes were generally quite well done (including Old Joe's rampage at the gang's HQ), and the scene between the two Joes in the diner was very good indeed–in fact, the film needed more interaction between Gordon-Levitt and Willis, as that could've been the backbone of a great film, and not just one element of a very uneven one.
The Master (2012)
Not quite a great film, but a great experience
SPOILERS.
Producer JoAnne Sellars said that THE MASTER wasn't about Scientology, and she wasn't putting us on; the film isn't so much about "The Cause" as it is about how The Cause factors into Freddie Quell's (Joaquin Phoenix) attempts to become a part of society, and how this man, tortured and alienated as he is, cannot embrace it the way people with seemingly more normal lives can.
Freddie, as we learn, has troubles aplenty: his father died a drunk, his mother went insane, he committed incest with an aunt, he himself is a near-hopeless alcoholic...and he's prone to fits of rage which, as performed by Phoenix, are terrifying, pitiable, and only deepen his detachment from the world. Lost and afraid, he and the leader of The Cause, Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman) meet by chance--or perhaps not, as Dodd seems convinced they have known each other before.
Freddie is drawn into the fold, and soon proves an over-zealous acolyte, physically attacking both a man who criticizes Dodd at a party and a group of policemen who arrest Dodd for fraudulent medical practices. Dodd is entranced with him and his troubles nonetheless, ignoring the doubts of his wife (Amy Adams). Ultimately, Freddie and Dodd part ways, but not before a final meeting where Freddie realizes that he can never commit to The Cause, just as he seemingly cannot commit to a home, to a job, or to a lover; we then see him re-enacting a Cause ritual with a woman he has picked up in a pub, and the film ends with him lying next to a nude woman made of sand, a memory from his Navy days which illustrates how true commitment and human connection is beyond him; all he has are fantasies and primal urges.
Phoenix's performance is nothing short of astounding; he is wholly committed to Freddie's madness and pain, his reflexive laughter, his rage, his frustrated sexuality, and all the other parts of his fractured psyche. To use a cliché, he does as much with his eyes and face as most actors would with dialogue AND their entire bodies; it's a perfect match of actor and character, and an Oscar should be in Phoenix's future.
Another Oscar might be in Philip Seymour Hoffman's future as well, for as Dodd, he is no less brilliant. Dodd is, if anything, the more complex character, because we are never sure how much of his gospel he actually believes. His son (Jesse Plemons) at one point says that Dodd is making it all up (which nearly earns him a beating from Freddie), but later we see him as a fully established member of the Cause hierarchy; whether he came to believe his father's words or was simply sucked in by the potential for power, we cannot say.
But if Dodd is a charlatan, he never breaks his facade; he appears truly to believe his words (it's implied The Cause has been around for some time before Freddie and Dodd meet), and Hoffman never drops the mask either, playing straight such moments as Dodd's singing to Freddy in their final confrontation, or in the same scene explaining their association in a previous life. Hoffman plays it all with perfect sincerity, and his interaction with Phoenix--the film's real core--is marvelous to say the least.
One of the friends whom I saw it with felt that the film had no philosophical depth, which falls somewhat in line with Ebert's assertion that the film lacks a real core. But I'd argue the film DOES have a core, and that core is Freddie's doomed quest to be a part of civilized society, and how that manifests itself in his relationship with Dodd. It's really a character study, and a good one at that. There ARE some flaws in the script; Amy Adams has a surprisingly truncated role, a few secondary plots go undeveloped, the timeline of the film is a bit murky, etc--but none of these flaws are at all fatal, for again, the film is a great experience.
I didn't see it in 70mm, but I saw it in a fine theater with top-line projection, and it was gorgeous to see. Mihai Malaimare Jr, a cinematographer who has mostly done latter-day Coppola films, displays an amazing eye for composition, and the film is a constant treat to look at. The production design and costuming are alike fine.
P.T. Anderson's direction is superb from first to last; he shows not only his keen fascination with a specific millieu, but with the dark nature of humanity. Often the camera will linger on this or that painful or startling image (like Freddie imagining a roomful of naked women surrounding the singing, dancing, possibly drunk Dodd), and the patience Anderson shows pays off by simply being fun to watch; for those who love the art of filmmaking, THE MASTER should be a positive feast.
Lastly, Jonny Greenwood's score--haunting, lush, discordant--is the perfect accompaniment to this flawed, haunting, masterful (had to) tale. It falls JUST short of being the year's best film, but it's a must-see nonetheless.
Last Ounce of Courage (2012)
Unendurable Persecution/Victimization Fantasy
LAST OUNCE OF COURAGE is so over-the-top that one is tempted to brand it a parody: the heavy use of military march music to suggest patriotic resolution, the ham-fisted speechifying, the slimy cigar-smoking villain...but then there are the elements which are clearly meant to be funny, like the fey theater director (ha, ha) or the bumbling biker gang (who look tough, but are, of course, just a bunch of softies).
But what really makes the film a chore to watch is how weak a piece of propaganda it is. The villains never make a remotely rounded case for themselves; the (hilariously exaggerated) actions on the part of those who try to repress Christmas and religious expression are based on vague fear alone, and while vague fear has inspired many a misguided action, when there's a message to be conveyed (I assume that's what they were trying to do), there needs to be either something concrete to react against, or an actual nuanced exploration of the issues. In a general sense, liberals seem to be the antagonistic force here, but the film doesn't take an actual stand against anything.
It's also one of the most pandering films I've ever seen, using the Army, the Bible, Christmas trees, motorcycles, the word "freedom", the American flag, and the cross as grossly blunt symbols of what this film means to honor. But it's so empty-minded that these symbols do not elevate the film or its themes; they just underscore its total lack of substance.
The acting doesn't help. Marshall Teague was far more convincing as a psychotic henchman in ROAD HOUSE; he has one line in particular that would turn off this film's target audience. The character of Bob Revere is a hard one to really like (he's awfully self-righteous), and Teague's performance doesn't help matters. Jennifer O'Neill, a long, long time after SCANNERS or SUMMER OF '42, can do little with the role of Teague's wife. Fred Williamson, as the aforementioned villain, seems to realize how awful the film he's in is, and manages to bring a little more pizazz to his one-dimensional role. Not enough to make it a memorable performance, really, but he's definitely the best thing in the film.
Add to the leaden script and flat performances a cheap production and sloppy directing, and you've got one big steaming pile of film. Not recommended. Oh, wait--it IS "Chuck Norris approved". Make of that what you will.
The Oogieloves in the Big Balloon Adventure (2012)
The Worst Film of 2012
If I were 3 years old and had this garbage foisted on me...I'd consider putting myself up for adoption.
If I were 3 years old and had this garbage foisted on me...I'd fling fecal matter at the screen.
If I were 3 years old and had this garbage foisted on me...I'd throw a tantrum just to get taken out of the theater.
If I were 3 years old and had this garbage foisted on me...I'd never want to see another movie again.
This movie was not good.
Don't take your kids to see this garbage. There are TV shows far superior to this. There are classic movies far superior to this. Last year's Winnie The Pooh is perfect for kids. Show them that.
Not this sludge.
Bir Zamanlar Anadolu'da (2011)
A textbook definition of the word "engrossing"
Watching ONCE UPON A TIME IN ANATOLIA, as the film neared its end, I kept on saying "All right, it'll cut to black right about now." Time after time, I was proved wrong. The film goes on and on (over 2.5 hours), yet unlike, say, THE RETURN OF THE KING, once the film did end, I realized that the film from start to finish moved along exactly as it should, and that returning to it, knowing how it would finish, I would have no complaints about its structure.
Certainly I have no complaints about the acting (marvelous all around, but Taner Birsel as the prosecutor and Muhammet Uzuner as the doctor take top honors), the directing (patient, clear, sympathetic), the writing (injected with a welcome sense of dark humor), the cinematography (glorious long shots, long takes, use of light and texture), or the editing (the montage wherein the mayor's daughter serves tea to the men is subtle genius).
While the deliberate pace can be a touch trying for some, if you open yourself up to it, OUATIA will no doubt pull you in and keep you hooked; it's one of the best films of 2011, and one which deserves as wide an audience as, say, THE ARTIST has received.
The Wiz (1978)
Interminably dull and shoddy without end
This bizarre film seems almost like a gigantic joke; Diana Ross (who was 34) plays Dorothy, who has supposedly never gone south of New York's 125th St. (riiiiiiight); Sidney Lumet, who was neither black nor a musical director, directs; the film features carnivorous trash cans (!), a walking TV camera (!), an endless sequence of dancers in their underwear (?), and Michael Jackson.
Admittedly, there are good moments; Jackson as the Scarecrow and Nipsey Russell as the Tinman are both quite funny, the songs are, all in all, good, and the sets, garish as they are, have an odd fascination.
BUT...
Diana Ross is a terrible Dorothy. Ted Ross is a cipher of a Lion. Richard Pryor is utterly wasted as the Wiz, a loser politician who does nothing of note. The idea that Dorothy has never gone south of 125th is so dumb as to seem parodic. The idea that Toto could, in a flash, run outside into a freak snowstorm is silly. The ending resolves nothing that I can see. The film runs 134 minutes*, pretty long for a family film.
This is a sad sight, to put it plainly.
*No intermission, but there is a good break point about 90 minutes in. 44 minutes less misery.