Here

Director: Robert Zemeckis
Starring: Tom Hanks, Robin Wright, Paul Bettany, Kelly Reilly, Michelle Dockery, Gwilym Lee, Ophelia Lovibond, David Fynn, Daniel Betts, Joel Oulette, Dannie McCallum, Nicholas Pinnock, Nikki Amuka-Bird
Running Time: 104 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

It's safe to say that among universally beloved filmmakers, Robert Zemeckis' recent career trajectory might sting the most, with 2012's Flight frequently cited as the last real success. Because of this, he joins a long list of great directors who discovered their fiercest competition is themselves, or more accurately, their most remembered work. And while holding nothing against Forrest Gump or the idea of its stars reuniting, we all know Back to the Future will always be the first title everyone associates with Zemeckis. So it's ironic that even when again engulfing himself in cinematic technology, his latest, Here, marks a return to those roots by revolving around a similar theme. 

Based on Richard McGuire's 2014 graphic novel of the same name, the non-linear film takes place in a single location, simultaneously tracking its various inhabitants over different eras. And if it's disheartening to see something this experimentally ambitious get unfairly clobbered by critics and audiences, there's at least an explanation. It's that Zemeckis' current track record and a trailer filled with jarring, out-of-context shots of a de-aged Tom Hanks and Robin Wright caused many to declare it dead on arrival before viewing a single scene.

In a perfect world, Zemeckis could have utilized practical effects and makeup to film this directly following Gump, only substituting McGuire's original 1989 comic as its source. But after watching it, the best news is that the result wouldn't necessarily be better, with this standing as the first of his modern films where the effects mostly inform its story, quelling fears of another Polar Express or Beowulf. Employing a fixed camera angle, we're granted unlimited entry into the victories and disappointments of life, spanning from when dinosaurs roamed the Earth to present day. Characters are born, they die and the cycle repeats, but what happens in between is where Zemeckis and co-writer Eric Roth create flashes of magic. 

Taking place entirely within the confines of a New England home that was formerly a part of Benjamin Franklin's son's estate, John Harter (Gwilym Lee) and his wife Pauline (Michelle Dockery) move in shortly after its construction at the turn of the 20th century. They'll have a daughter, but his obsession with piloting planes causes a strain on their marriage that may prove insurmountable. Future inhabitants of the house include eccentric La-Z-Boy recliner inventer Leo Beekman (David Fynn) and his pin-up model wife Stella (Ophelia Lovibond) and married couple Al (Paul Bettany) and Rose Young (Kelly Reilly), who purchase the property following World War II. 

The Youngs raise their three children in the suburban home until 18-year-old son Richard's (Hanks) girlfriend Margaret (Wright) becomes pregnant with daughter Vanessa. As both generations attempt to co-exist under the same roof, Richard makes personal sacrifices to support his family while Margaret grows antsier for them to move out and start a life of their own. Various triumphs and tragedies occur, along with smaller moments that grow in importance for both as they drift apart and age, forever linked by their shared experiences and memories.

While none of the events take place in what we'd strictly consider chronological order, Zemeckis alternates between periods and characters for the first 45 minutes or so before spending the bulk of his time on Richard and Margaret. He also employs these boxes or comic book-like panels on screen to signal shifts between time periods within this living room and dissolve into another scene. It's initially jarring, but after a while you just settle in, grasping its larger purpose as the separate segments play out. 

For all the de-aging complaints, this attempt is more cleanly executed than in 2019's The Irishman, the latest Indiana Jones and even some of Disney's latest Star Wars offerings. And that's coming from someone who's no fan of the approach and thinks we're still years away from being able to rely on it to such an extreme. But having actors of this high a caliber tackling an ingenious conceit softens that blow considerably, relegating the only lackluster digitization to opening CGI shots of nature, dinosaurs and deer. 

Luckily, we get into the house quickly, and despite the fixed camera angle throughout, it never feels as if we're merely watching a filmed stage play. Characters come in and out of the frame while Zemeckis crafts some clever transitions that bridge the gap between eras, like an inspired cut from colonial times to a current day Mayflower moving truck. And while Ashley Lamont's production design for the living space has to span decades, it's filled with rich, precise period detail that joins Alan Silvestri elegiac score in supplementing a script that hops back and forth between years, often within minutes. 

There comes a point almost midway through where any justifiable skepticism disappears, resulting in not only the film's strongest stretch, but the kind of storytelling we hoped Zemeckis still had in him. And all of that begins and ends with the Youngs, as we see Hanks' Richard abandon his early painting passion for a more monetarily stable sales job to support his family. This while Margaret also puts her law aspirations on hold, desperately wanting for them to move out despite all his financial excuses not to.

Hanks and Wright are again extraordinary together as a couple frustrated by an inability to reach their respective potentials due to a combination of fear, gender expectations and monetary realities. Unfairly labeled by detractors as a schmaltzy, life affirming fable, the film's more accurately viewed as the slow decay of the American dream with two generations battling to deal with the hands they're dealt. And hanging over it all is the familiar specter of illness and death, like in one scary scene where a friend face plants on the floor following a fatal heart attack. 

As Richard, Hanks creating a complicated portrait of an everyman whose fear of moving past childhood keeps them in this house, even remarking at one point that he actually thought his constant worrying would stop bad things from happening. And though Wright imbues Margaret with a glowing, youthful optimism, that too will gradually fade under the weight of insecurity and societal pressures, leaving her to find the joy in tinier, seemingly throwaway moments that will grow monumental in retrospect.

Paul Bettany gives the film's best performance as Al Young, a flawed, cynical war veteran with a rock hard exterior that seems impossible to crack, making it easy to see how his stubborn traits influence and even traumatize son Richard when he starts a family of his own. Very much a product of his era, Al drowns his pain with booze and smoking while keeping a firm, overprotective grip on Kelly Reilly's Rose who, like Margaret, put her own goals on the backburner.

As Rose and Al advances in age to the point that his son and daughter-in-law become their caretakers, Bettany's turn grows even more interesting, displaying a vulnerability that provides valuable insight and justification into his more prickly behavior. And of everyone, Zemeckis really hits it out of the park with this character's visual presentation, believably aging him on screen from a young man in his twenties to an ailing senior citizen.

Despite feeling epic in scope, the film clocks in at just over an hour and a half, carried by Jesse Goldsmith's seamless editing and the fact Zemeckis moves so fast, with years and decades passing in the blink of an eye to replicate the experiences of these characters. As time flies, we're transported to the near-present where the home's latest occupants Helen (Nikki Amuka-Bird) and Devon Harris (Nicholas Pinnock) confront the issue of police violence and deal with the COVID pandemic. Inevitably, side stories like that, the The Franklin vignettes and a subplot involving Indigenous Native Americans receive less attention due to the unusual structure. But while the overall narrative may lack the unity of The Tree of Life, it's still hard to complain when so many of its scenes still manage to  powerfully register.

If nothing else, Here is a brutally honest, unapologetically melodramatic look at the passage of time that uses its unique, experimental single location narrative to magnify the minutia of human experience. It's not for everyone, but even those who consider it a failure would be forced to admit Zemeckis takes a huge risk in giving audiences this much to unpack. With a format that practically invites repeated viewings and reevaluation, it'll be fascinating to gauge how it ages once the vitriol dies down, leaving us to appreciate the reality we at least have a director bold enough to try.                    

Wonder Woman

Director: Patty Jenkins
Starring: Gal Gadot, Chris Pine, Robin Wright, Danny Huston, David Thewlis, Connie Nielsen, Elena Anaya, Lucy Davis, Saïd Taghmaoui, Ewen Bremner, Eugene Brave Rock, Lisa Loven Kongsli
Running Time: 141 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Of all the superheroes that have made it to the big screen, whether it be Marvel, DC or otherwise, it's the role of Wonder Woman that's been hardest to cast. That we've gone literally decades without a film dedicated to the character, as numerous incarnations of the project stalled in pre-production, speaks to this difficulty. There must be a vault somewhere of all the unproduced scripts and lists of potential actresses rumored to follow TV's Lynda Carter in the highly coveted role, one that doesn't come with the built-in benefits accompanying Batman, Superman, Spider-Man, or even James Bond and Indiana Jones. All those franchises will continue no matter who plays the character, as disastrous selections have demonstrated. They can be rebooted, remade, prequeled and sequeled to death because no one person is bigger than the character or property itself. Wonder Woman is different.

When Patty Jenkins' Wonder Woman got the greenlight, it was all but guaranteed we'd never get another one if it didn't do well. Just look at how long it took to get this. And while there would be plenty of blame to go around, we all know who the public would point fingers at: Whoever plays her. It may be the only case where a really terrible film could be made, but as long as they got the casting right, everything else would be forgiven and it would rule the box office. The primary audience for these types of movies have always been young male fanboys with strong opinions on how the actress playing her should look, talk and act. And they're more than willing to tell you that no one will ever be good enough. While it's true every iconic pop culture character carries similar baggage to some extent, none have bared the burden quite like Wonder Woman.

Leave it up to DC to give the superhero with the roughest road to the big screen an introduction that does feel a little different, not to mention overdue. While it seems as if some actual thought and vision went into this, it does come back around again to the casting, as we knew it would. Somehow, they found an actress who personifies Wonder Woman in every possible way and then actually bothered to surround and support her with a worthwhile film that uses its content to reach an audience far beyond what was considered possible for the character. In other words, they nailed it. And while it's not without certain problems, it's nice to report for a change that there isn't a laundry list of them.

Diana, daughter of Amazon Queen Hippolyta (Connie Nielsen) was born and raised on the hidden island of Themyscira, as a member of a race of warrior women Zeus created to protect mankind. But this doesn't sit well with his son, the angry and jealous Ares, who vows to obliterate humanity, nearly succeeding before being run off by his father. Anticipating Ares' eventual return, Zeus leaves the Amazon women a secret weapon known as the "Godkiller," which could potentially defeat him. Despite Hippolyta forbidding it, a young Diana is secretly trained by her aunt, Antiope (Robin Wright), until her mother eventually relents.

Under the right guidance, Diana grows up to become a fierce warrior woman (Gal Gadot) whose life is interrupted when American pilot and Allied spy Steve Trevor's (Chris Pine) plane crashes off the coast of Themyscira and she rescues him. Hearing of the war and believing it to be the work of Ares, Diana leaves home and joins Trevor in his attempt to stop German General Ludendorff (Danny Huston), who's chemist Isabel Maru (Elena Ayaya), aka "Dr. Poison," is engineering a deadly new form of mustard gas to end the war. Trevor recruits his own ragtag team of misfits to stop them, but it's Diana, armed with lasso, sword and shield, who proves to be their greatest asset, realizing the full extent of her powers to incite change in a world overcome with turmoil.

It's become commonplace to dread the first half-hour to forty minutes of a superhero film where an"origin story" is inflicted upon us. These extended (sometimes neverending) prologues are often ridiculously acted, give audiences information they already know or don't need, and frequently feature distractingly awful CGI. At times it feels like they're just there to pad the running time rather than to give viewers an actual connection to the story or its characters, with Marvel's Thor being the most glaring recent example of these offenses.

Monster director Patty Jenkins gets it right with an origin story that doesn't feel like a complete drag. It helps that aside from the character's recent, well-received Batman v. Superman appearance, she's relatively fresh and untainted from previous incarnations or big screen outings, making her the only remaining superhero that could possibly feel "new" to this generation. But that doesn't take away from everything Jenkins does really well in introducing this character, like keeping things simple. Or competently staging battle scenes that more closely resemble live-action, freeze frame murals or paintings than the overstylized, overedited effects we're used to getting in war porn like the 300 films.

The first sign that Allan Heinberg's script is truly working comes with the death a character early that we really shouldn't have any business caring about, but do, since their importance and connection to Diana was well established within the first twenty minutes, informing each lap of her journey going forward. When Steve Trevor crash lands and Diana makes the sacrifice to leave her people in pursuit of a greater good, we're there, fully invested in seeing her reaction to being thrown into an entirely new world.

It's a surprise just how much the script exploits both dramatic and comedic possibilities of this fish-out-of-water narrative, immeasurably aided by the chemistry between Gadot and Pine, with the latter conveying a likability and comedic delivery rarely displayed in his previous roles. And unlike most recent entries in the genre hampered by goofiness, the humor works for rather than against the more serious aspects of the narrative.

There's a feeling that the actors aren't just phoning it in for a big superhero payday or that this merely serves as an advertisement for a future series of films or spin-offs. While we know there undoubtedly will be and the term "Extended Universe" still very much exists and applies, other than a brief nod bookending the opening and closing, Jenkins focuses entirely on the task at hand. It's especially a relief to not be "treated" to a pointless post-credits scene for purely commercial purposes. For a change, all the energy does seem completely channeled into this project, with so much of it provided by the performer chosen for the allegedly uncastable title role.

Leaving any irrelevant concerns about her accent, physique or acting qualifications in the dust, Israeli actress Gal Gadot simply assumes the mantle of Wonder Woman from the moment she first appears. Not only does she look the part when judged against any previous incarnation of the character, but she's believable as a badass fighting machine, while also managing to convey the naivete and vulnerability accompanying Diana's confusion at mankind's propensity to destroy itself. Her curiosity and disappointment forms the core of a story that remains unusually focused much of the way through.

With superhero movies' reliance on stars at an all-time low, it may be possible for an actor to be afforded the opportunity to give what's considered a truly great performance in this type of role again. And while I'm still unsure Gadot does exactly that, she may accomplish one better by simply doing the character and our imaginations justice. It's as much an achievement in casting as acting, lending weight to those Christopher Reeve mentions, even as this has little in common his Superman films. Its whole look, feel and tone is actually more in line with something like The Rocketeer, a comparison that was more hastily ascribed to Marvel's recent Captain America entries.

If a hero's only as strong as their villain, there's some debate as to who's considered the main one here. Though there's a good reason for that, it's still a bit of a problem considering it's so clearly Elena Ayaya's "Dr. Poison," with her terrifying look and intriguing motivations, who leaves the most lasting impression as an adversary. It's saddest to admit that as strong as most of the picture is, it still doesn't completely break out of the box, remaining recognizable as exactly what it is: Yet another superhero movie. What it has going for it is unusually good direction and a masterstroke in casting. What has little to do with that is the fact that it was directed by woman. Having everything to do with it is that she was the right person for the job, regardless of gender.

Still overlong at nearly two and a half hours, it uses its time better than most, before delivering a third act that doesn't really distinguish itself from other entries in the genre, falling back on a climactic CGI-laden showdown, with a bit of a surprising twist. But at least most of what leads up to it works better than most expected given all the obstacles in bringing one of the most creatively challenging comic characters to the big screen. Whether this can continue, or more importantly, whether it should, is a different question entirely. But for now, it's worth basking in the victory of a successful Wonder Woman installment that's feels as if it's been a long time coming.

House of Cards (Season One)

Creator: Beau Willimon
Starring: Kevin Spacey, Robin Wright, Kate Mara, Corey Stoll, Michael Kelly, Sakina Jaffrey, Kristen Connolly, Constance Zimmer, Sebastian Arcelus, Sandrine Holt, Michael Gill, Dan Ziskie, Ben Daniels
Original Airdate: 2013

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

There's a scene that comes late into the inaugural season of Netflix's House of Cards where House Majority Whip and South Carolina congressman Francis "Frank" Underwood (Kevin Spacey) convinces the buffoonish Vice President Matthews (Dan Ziskie) to do something that can best be described as completely insane. It's hard to even believe we're listening to it, much less that the sitting V.P. of the United States would actually consider it as a serious option. But we do believe it. Frank's so persuasive it almost makes perfect sense, becoming clear that every manipulative move he's made from the very beginning has been building to it. Based on the acclaimed BBC miniseries and produced by The Ides of March screenwriter Beau Willimon and executive produced by David Fincher, House of Cards can't be accused of not living up to its title. One move leads to another and then to another until it's infected every facet of government and reaches the highest level possible, causing the house of cards to come toppling down. It's about control and manipulation, anticipating actions and reactions while adjusting accordingly. It's one man's plan to rise to the top of the food chain and take control from the inside-out, even if that means running over everyone in his path.

House of Cards Opening Title Card

You'd have to go all the way back to Kevin Spacey's Oscar winning turn as Lester Burnham in American Beauty to find a role he's been able to tear into like this. And he just chews into it like a juicy steak, reminding everyone just how gifted an actor he is when handed exceptional material. And the supporting players are just as impressive, with many underappreciated actors and actresses being afforded a golden opportunity and taking full advantage. The show isn't exactly perfect, but comes pretty close. There's nothing new or groundbreaking about its story of Washington corruption and calling it The West Wing on steroids wouldn't be completely off base. Where it exceeds expectations is in delivery and execution. The direction, cinematography, performances, production design and even the soundtrack are first class, making for intelligent, gripping entertainment that could compete with anything today on basic cable. No one can claim Netflix didn't go all out here, recruiting top talent in front and behind the camera for their first major foray into scripted original programming. And it really shows.

The series starts slowly, with the first two episodes directed rather cinematically by Fincher. What's most intriguing is how those episodes look and feel exactly like you'd imagine a TV series directed by David Fincher would look and feel like with seemingly no obvious compromises made for the medium. At times it almost feels as if you were watching Zodiac or The Social Network on the small screen, but set in the capital. Fincher's chilly visual style permeates through the rest of the season, even as other talented directors like James Foley, Joel Schumacher and Allen Coulter take over the reigns for the remaining episodes with no drop in quality whatsoever. If anything, their episodes are probably stronger since so much set-up and establishing has to be done early that the show gets off to a methodical start that's sure to play even better when you revisit it. It's a slow burn that doesn't grab hold immediately or necessarily cause you to plow through the season at furious, breakneck pace. It plants seeds for what's to come, even if at first glance it appears that the characters could turn out to be unlikable cliches. That fear is squashed  after only a couple of episodes as the Shakespearean drama starts to unfold and the writing and performances lift the characters beyond that.

Reporter Zoe Barnes (Kate Mara) breaks a story

After being passed over by the President Walker (Michael Gill) for Secretary of State, the charismatically scheming Frank Underwood sets in motion a complicated, but brilliant plan for revenge with his ambitious, ice queen wife Claire (Robin Wright) and loyal chief of staff Doug Stamper (Michael Kelly) by his side. There are two major pawns in his game. One is a young Washington Herald reporter Zoe Barnes (Kate Mara) who's more than willing to cut a deal with Frank as an inside source to make a name for herself, and Pennsylvania congressman Pete Russo (Corey Stoll), who's tapped by Frank for Governor despite his battles with drugs and alcohol and the fact he's carrying on a secret relationship with his secretary Christina Gallagher (Kristen Connolly). Russo becomes Frank's pet project and the scenes involving him trying to clean this troubled candidate up for a run at office count among the season's strongest.

Equally compelling and driving the narrative is Frank's relationship with Claire, which more closely resembles a business venture than a loving marriage. Yet in some ways it's both as they conspire together to further each others goals, which sometimes conflict when his Machiavellian scheming gets in the way of her trying to successfully run her non-profit organization. Taking cues from the original BBC version, Frank often breaks the fourth wall to turn to the camera and make the audience co-conspirators. Sometimes it's to let us in on his diabolical plans, but mostly it's to make hilariously sarcastic asides. This could have been very pretentious (and the first few episodes I had my worries) but they get funnier and more revealing as each show passes to the point that I eventually conceded the device works really well. Much of why hinges on Spacey's enthusiastic delivery, as he truly looks like he's having the time of his life drolly selling these lines.

Frank and Claire Underwood (Kevin Spacey and Robin Wright)

Spacey makes it almost impossible to dislike Frank by playing him so charmingly and charismatically that you fall into a similar trap the characters do. He doesn't so much manipulate people as trick those he needs into manipulating themselves. And many of them aren't stupid. Wright's Claire never feels like she's just along for the ride, often coming off as cold-blooded as he, if not worse, since emotions rarely pierce through her steely exterior (her reaction to a character's mid-season deathbed confession is particularly disturbing). Even when fighting over political leverage or extra-marital affairs the actors slyly make it feel as if they're still teammates disagreeing on the exact means they'll use to win. Both have skeletons in their closets and the writers are careful to reveal just enough, but not too much, such as when Frank returns to his alma mater where a new library is erected in his name. What results is the season's most revealing episode and Spacey's finest work, as Washington politics are temporarily put on the backburner to take a breather and explore the character of this man we've grown to simultaneously appreciate, respect and despise. Then it's back to business.

The series' take on the changing face of print media and journalism is timely if nothing else, resulting in some intentionally (and unintentionally) humorous scenes involving newspaper editors refusing to change with the tweeting times while stubbornly holding steadfast to "hard news." My biggest worry early on was the familiarity of Kate Mara's blogger Zoe, but she skillfully sidesteps a potential stereotype with a clever mixture of bratty entitlement and almost child-like innocence, playing her as professionally on point but personally inept. She'll do anything to advance her career and making a deal (the nature of which I won't spoil, but you can guess) with the devil himself, Frank Underwood, is quickest way to do it. With first Rooney and now Kate (who really displays quite a range here), Fincher can't complain he hasn't gotten his money's worth out of the Mara sisters.

Corey Stoll is doomed Pennsylvania congressman Pete Russo

The season's major sub-plot involving Pete Russo's run for governor is so compelling, and Corey Stoll's performance so revelatory, that it shows up nearly everything else in the series. Despite his weaknesses for drugs, alcohol and hookers, he's strangely the most moral character. We think we're in for another arrogant jerk, but Stoll (best known for playing Ernest Hemingway in Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris) digs surprisingly deep, revealing an essentially decent, honest guy who wants to do the right thing by his constituents and family but is being sabotaged at every corner, sometimes by himself, but mostly by others wanting to prop him up for their own advantage. Frank smells his vulnerability and is more than willing to exploit it in order to make him a political puppet.

In a series full of characters whose misfortunes are almost always well deserved, Stoll still succeeds in extracting a high level of sympathy for Russo in a performance that, assuming it qualifies, is more than worthy of a supporting Emmy nomination. A practically unrecognizable Kristen Connolly, who hardly left an impression on me starring in The Cabin The Woods last year, makes a far more memorable mark here as Russo's staffer and girlfriend Christina, whose loyalty and determination lift what could have a the most cliched of relationships into a genuine partnership we end up invested in. Her and Stoll work together so well it's hard imagining their characters even functioning without each another.

Anyone hoping for closure to the major story arc this season may as well go elsewhere, as a "to be continued..." title card may as well have flashed on the screen at the end of the finale. If there's any flaw in the season, it's that a major game-changing event occurs before we reach the end and after that some steam is lost heading toward the finish. Ironically, the very beginning and very end of the season just might be the weakest (if such a word could even be used) sections while everything in between is downright phenomenal.There's really two ways to approach writing a TV series. You can either go the self-contained route and tell a different story each season or you make the entire run of the series an ongoing saga. It's apparent Fincher's going The Breaking Bad route of telling one story stretched over time, which is becoming  an increasingly popular approach in this golden age of serialized dramas.

David Fincher directs Kevin Spacey and Kate Mara

While much fuss has been made about this being Netflix's first major foray into scripted original programming, their distribution model of unloading an entire season at once won't feel new to anyone who's been binging on their favorite shows, or maybe discovering new ones, for the past couple of years. If there's any adjusting to be done for the viewer, it's getting used to these episodes being labeled by chapter numbers rather than actual titles, which sometimes creates confusion when trying to reference a specific episode, but further recreates the feeling you're watching one long movie. This approach definitely feels more convenient than ever, but would mean nothing if the quality wasn't there. But it is. And for a change it's nice to see a show's success or failure judged on merit rather than ratings.   

Rampart

Director: Oren Moverman
Starring: Woody Harrelson, Ice Cube, Ned Beatty, Ben Foster, Anne Heche, Sigourney Weaver, Robin Wright, Brie Larson, Steve Buscemi, Cynthia Nixon, Jon Bernthal
Running Time: 108 min.
Rating: R

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

I spent half the running time of Rampart wondering when the main character would bite the dust and the other half wondering why I didn't want to see that happen more. It's a frustrating film with isolated flashes of greatness and an electrifying lead performance, starting off as a focused character study, before unraveling as an overplotted mess. It's a compelling mess to be sure, but goes in a bunch of different directions when it really just needs to be going in one. The result is an effort that occasionally impresses but ends up being muddled by bureaucratic and political nonsense, too often tying the film up in as much red tape as its main character.

It's Los Angeles circa 1999 and LAPD officer Dan Brown (Woody Harrelson), is a 24-year veteran of the Rampart division, which is recently reeling from scandal. He's also a racist, mysogynistic, homophobic, corrupt, womanizer with anger management issues serious enough to have earned the nickname, "Date Rape Dan" (for when he allegedly murdered a date rapist in cold blood). Now with video footage surfacing of him assaulting a suspect within an inch of his life and his department under a microscope, his troubled career is called into question by assistant district attorney Joan Confrey (Sigourney Weaver) and Internal affairs investigator Kyle Timkins (Ice Cube) who both are just trying to avoid further embarrassment.  He could have been set up, but that point's almost irrelevant when you consider he'd do something like this anyway, and has. His home life isn't much better, as he's living with his two spurned ex-wives (Anne Heche and Cynthia Nixon) who are sisters. With each he shares a daughter, the eldest of which (Brie Larson) can't stand him. Plagued by scandal and personal demons, Dan's reached the breaking point and must now confront his failings head on or risk losing his job, and possibly his life and family.

Early on, it appears this is going to be a brutal character study of a protagonist who's actually the antagonist. The opening scenes set that stage as Dan verbally abuses a female officer and roughs up a suspect. A portrait of a racist cop out of control with seemingly no conscience or remorse for his actions brings to mind 1992's Bad Lieutenant or its recent New Orleans-based remake starring Nic Cage. But then the film seems to back off that. Then a little more. Then a lot. By about the midway point, the screenplay gets so lost in its corruption plot (which never pays off in a meaningful way), that we almost forget who the story is really about. Worse yet, we keep hearing what a terrible human being this guy is but there just isn't enough evidence presented on screen to support it. He's supposedly this monstrous deadbeat dad, yet most of the scenes he shares with his family aren't nearly as destructive as you'd expect given how much of a ticking time bomb he is on the job. Most of these home scenes work though, at least until they're interrupted by the machinations of what feels too much like a police procedural.

Though the movie frequently seems to lose its grip its the main character, Harrelson doesn't. He can pretty much do anything and they should have let him, rather than just shoehorn the actor into the kind of formula cop movie we've seen far too often. Moverman previously directed him to a supporting actor nomination in 2009's war film, The Messenger, a far more focused effort that knew exactly what it was and where to go. But what's stranger is how he and crime novelist James Elroy's script seems to be in complete conflict with the directorial style and execution. It's shot in almost a frenetic, hand held, docudrama-like way that wants to bring us onto the streets of L.A during the 90's, yet the screenplay is far more conventional than that in how it incorporates familiar elements of dirty cop movies.

Robin Wright plays a suspicious defense attorney Dan starts sleeping with, and while it's a substantial supporting role well played by the great actress, I'm glad I'm not being quizzed on its purpose.  The legendary Ned Beatty also appears as a retired dirty cop who still has his hands in everything in the city, making the most of his intense scenes with Harrelson. A bearded Ben Foster is wasted as a wheelchair-bound homeless man while Steve Buscemi cameos. And doing a complete 180 from her recent turn in 21 Jump Street, an almost unrecognizable Brie Larson goes head to head with Harrelson in the emotional family scenes as his rebellious daughter, but even that sub-plot's impact seems diluted amidst everything else. And Heche and Nixon's sibling ex-wives spend most of the movie admonishing Dan or threatening to kick him out the house.    

It's always a shame when a movie that should be a home run falters, especially when it comes at the expense of skillful performances that deserved top notch material. If any of this feels like a gripping character study it's due to Harrelson, who provides enough gritty realism to convince us we're watching the movie we really wanted to see instead of the one onscreen. Officer Dan Brown isn't the kind of character you can just plug into a formula plot and expect a thrilling result. He's difficult, requiring a challenging script. You'd figure an independently financed production would have the leeway to take some risks, so it's especially disappointing to see a small film playing it so safe with a hot-button issue like police brutality. On the acting front Rampart definitely delivers, but most of its failings stem from spoon-feeding us more plot than was even necessary.

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo (2011)

Director: David Fincher
Starring: Daniel Craig, Rooney Mara, Christopher Plummer, Stellan Skarsgard, Robin Wright, Yorick Von Wageningen, Steven Berkoff, Joely Richardson, Goran Visnjic
Running Time: 158 min.
Rating: R

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

It's a terrible feeling when a highly anticipated release lets you down. It's an even worse feeling when it's made by your favorite director. But in the interest of looking at the glass half-full, David Fincher's The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo remake is probably as good as it could possibly be and it's easy to imagine a worse result had another filmmaker tried to tackle it. I haven't read author Stieg Larsson's first book in his "Millenium Trilogy," nor have I seen the 2009 Swedish film adaptation that starred Noomi Rapace in the title role. But what's interesting is how little interest I want to after seeing this. And that's not to say the picture is a full-on failure by any stretch. From a direction, production and acting standpoint it's actually outstanding, which leads me to believe the source material is the culprit here, preventing this project from ascending to a higher level. It feels like a David Fincher film. It looks like a David Fincher film. But the soul is missing. Two intersecting stories are being told and while one is moderately successful the other is unmistakably ordinary. The acting and direction almost save the day, struggling to lift the material out of routine thriller territory.   

Disgraced journalist and co-owner of the Swedish Millenium magazine Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig) has just lost a very public libel case brought against him when he's hired by millionaire Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer) to investigate the disappearance and possible murder of his grandniece Harriet 40 years ago. It's a case full of holes and mysteries in which Blomkvist relies on old photographs, notebook scribblings and feuding siblings to unravel the sordid secrets of the dysfunctional Vanger clan in hopes of finding leads. Upon requesting a research assistant, he's given tatooed, body-pierced computer hacker Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara), who has a history of physical and sexual abuse. A ward of the state due to mental incompetency, she's forced to perform sexual favors for her rapist guardian Nils Bjurman (Yorick Von Wageningen) in order to receive an allowance. That is until she breaks free. Cold and untrusting, Lisbeth isn't the easiest partner to work with but she and Blomkvist make an effective team as they inch dangerously closer to discovering the truth about Harriet's disappearance.

It takes almost an hour and a half into the almost 3 hour film before Lisbeth and Blomkvist even meet with much of the preceding time allotted to setting up the mystery and getting to know the leads. With Lisbeth's situation it's time mostly well spent but Blomkvist's investigation and the case is a drag, too often playing like a poor man's Zodiac. It just isn't interesting at all and at times seems completely indistinguishable from a missing persons TV crime drama case. Even more alarming is that none of the plot developments caught me off guard despite having zero familiarity with source material or the original Swedish film. It's also odd the revelations would be so dry, especially considering how cool and edgy the film has been touted as being. Most of that edginess comes when the focus is on Lisbeth and remarkably I had no problems believing the relationship that develops between her and Blomkvist or how quickly it was consummated. In fact, given how psychologically damaged she is and how bored he must have been from investigating this case, it almost seems inevitable.

Mara's performance is about as great as you've heard, sporting a remarkable, unwavering Swedish accent and doing her best to supply depth where there's seems to be very little coming from Steve Zaillian's script. Though I was still unsure at many points how I was supposed to feel about Lisbeth as a character. Regardless of how she's depicted in the novels or original films, I did sense a play was being made to make her increasingly sympathetic to the point of almost being a lovesick puppy as the film entered its final act, which seems at odds with how uncommercial everything else is. Daniel Craig's miscast as a passive bookworm but turns in typically strong work anyway. If anything, this role really highlights the challenges facing Craig in a non-James Bond project since it's inescapably off-putting seeing him play such a non-heroic part, especially in a thriller. I had to keep reminding myself Blomkvist was just a journalist who can't shoot his way out of any situation. Stellan Skarsgard, Robin Wright, Joely Richardson and Steven Berkoff are given roles of varying importance and quality to the story.

That the film's sole Oscar win for editing is a head-scratcher, unless the honor refers to the least amount of editing. There were many spots during the first hour where I felt certain scenes could have been chopped and tightened for clarity, as it marks the first instance in a Fincher film where copious details don't justify an exorbitant running time or add depth to the story in any meaningful way. This is especially true at the tail end where there's a perfect point to start wrapping up the picture following a chilling sequence that's highlighted by an unforgettably creepy musical moment. But then proceedings drag on for almost a half hour longer. It's bad enough this coda seems pointless, but it's also presented in a needlessly confusing manner, sucking the energy out of the narrative as the film limps past the finish line. Whether it's true to the source material or not, if it wasn't going to be presented crisply then there's no reason to include it. If the editing is close to being a disaster the opposite should be said of Jeff Cronenweth's cinematography and Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross' haunting score, both of which  compliment the murky atmosphere. The opening credit sequence (set to Karen O and Reznor and Ross's cover of Led Zeppelin's "Immigrant Song") looks tremendously cool in a high-tech music video type of way, even if I couldn't thinking that was its only purpose. In any event, I'd be crazy to say the movie doesn't look great.

That this all almost still works despite these flaws is a credit to Fincher, who's slumming it here with pulpy material below his talent level. For the first time he actually feels like a hired gun. Here's hoping he doesn't sign on to film the two sequels and moves on to something else as there's nothing left for him to try to elevate here. But he does remain true to form in managing to provoke a strong reaction, even if that reaction is negative. Given the filmmaker, it's always possible I could return to this down the road and come out with a new appreciation, but a single viewing definitely feels like enough right now. There's just very little depth or subtext to the story, which is especially problematic if an actress is going to be put through what Mara is. She hasn't even looked the same since this wrapped and that she's already contractually committed to continuing this is unfortunate. It shouldn't be too much to ask that a film featuring brutal rape and murder have something to say, especially if it's taking up this much time, talent and money. I knew going in The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo wasn't be an amusement park ride and didn't want it to be. But what really surprised me was just how little it amounted to.

Moneyball

Director: Bennett Miller
Starring: Brad Pitt, Jonah Hill, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Chris Pratt, Robin Wright, Kerris Dorsey
Running Time: 133 min.
Rating: PG-13 

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

What struck me most while watching Moneyball was how little I knew about the events that occurred, and whatever I did know, I had problems remembering.  That's sure to be the reaction of anyone watching who's only a casual baseball fan and that's exactly the point. History is written by the winners and the Oakland Athletics didn't win the 2002 World Series despite setting a new Major League record with their 20 game winning streak. In fact, they didn't even make it there. Those aren't spoilers, just statistics in a film that's all about statistics. At one point A's GM Billy Beane (Brad Pitt) says that people only ever remember your last game and he'd be proven right since what happened that year feels like fresh news to anyone who didn't follow the sport closely or read Michael Lewis' 2003 book that provides the film's basis.

Strapped for cash and unable to compete with other teams, Beane improvised and challenged the way those inside baseball thought about and evaluated the sport, even if many didn't feel like admitting it. Interesting and analytical rather than emotional, it's an incredibly welcome change in a genre prone to sentimental grandstanding where it all comes down to the "big game." There's none of that here. Crisply told and featuring two outstanding  performances, this is rousing entertainment at its best. While it'll probably still play best for fans of the sport, it's everybody else who needs to see it and experience the joy of a story told well enough to convert them.

After having star players Johnny Damon and Jason Giambi snatched from the deep pocketed Red Sox and Yankees, Beane is faced with the daunting task of assembling a competitive team despite being the poorest in the league. In a clubhouse full of old school scouts, he's told the answer's what it's always been: Evaluate talent based on their strengths and weaknesses, while factoring in some other intangibles like "look"and "marketability" to obtain the best talent within their price range. It isn't until a trip to Cleveland and an encounter with Yale economics grad Peter Brand (Jonah Hill) that Beane's introduced to a sabermetric method of scouting created by former factory worker Bill James that relies on objective statistics and data rather than a subjective evaluation of a player's perceived strengths and weaknesses. Objectively, only numbers matter. After hiring Brand away from the Indians as his new assistant GM, Beane devises a plan to recruit players based on their on-base percentage and the radical idea causes an uproar amongst his seasoned scouts and enrages manager Art Howe (Philip Seymour Hoffman). Creating an "island of misfit toys" with players no one wants or would take a chance on, Beane and Brand must overcome a rough start and harsh criticism to turn the Athletics into a winning team again.

The film was co-written by Oscar winning Social Network screenwriter Aaron Sorkin and you can tell. He seems to be on a role lately with adapting non-fiction material and making it crackle on screen, injecting excitement and suspense into conversations about baseball strategy and statistics just as he did for computer programming and courtroom depositions. He does this by not only letting us know the people having the conversations, but conveys what's at stake for them. Billy Beane's own disappointing Major League playing career informs the story through flashbacks since the scouting system he's pushing almost seems to be a bittersweet retaliation at the one that failed him. Pegged as a can't miss prospect he missed big when the Mets drafted him in 1980 management looking at perceived intangibles instead of numbers.

The idea that Beane's ultimate destiny was never to be a player but do this informs every scene, particularly his interaction with the players. There's one involving his attempts to get through to a 37-year-old David Justice (played memorably by Stephen Bishop) that epitomizes the uphill battle he has and the honesty with which he approaches the challenge. Who knows if the conversation even took place but the magic in their exchange is in wondering how great it would be if it went down just like that. Art Howe comes across as the fool of the picture to the point that even calling him the team's manager is a stretch since all he cares about is a contract renewal as Beane handles much of the coaching. You can't watch without wondering how pissed the real Howe must be about this portrayal. On one hand you sympathize with him being undermined at every turn, yet there's no denying it's hilarious, more so with an angry, deadpan Hoffman playing him. The media attributing the A's remarkable turnaround to his brilliant managerial mind provides the biggest laugh of the movie.

This is Brad Pitt's show, and at the risk of sounding like a broken record, he gives one of his best performances and is pretty much a lock for a Best actor nomination. While his role earlier in the year in The Tree of Life may have technically been more challenging from a craft perspective, this is the kind of big movie star turn Academy members will be foaming at the mouth to nominate and there's even a good chance he'll win. Charismatic, likable, sympathetic, funny and carrying the entire film with seemingly effortless charm, the full scope of Brad Pitt has never been as prominently displayed as it is here, and in a big studio picture to boot. The level of difficulty hardly matters since it's a virtual highlight reel of all the talents that make him a star, much like Clooney in Michael Clayton, Cruise in Jerry Maguire or Redford in anything during the '70's. The role seems tailor made for him and and watching how everything turned out it's clear he deserves a lot of credit for trusting his instincts and sticking with a project lingering in development hell for years that many didn't think would see the light of day.

While you can use a permanent marker to write in Pitt for a nomination, it wouldn't surprise me if Jonah Hill goes along for the ride in the supporting category as Paul Brand (who's based on real life A's assistant GM Paul DePodesta). After only testing the dramatic waters a little in smaller films, this is Hill's first full plunge into a serious role and it's a pleasant surprise how excellent he is in it and what an oddly effective pair he and Pitt make. Entering a lion's den of locker room traditionalists, Hill plays Brand as extremely knowledgeable, yet overwhelmed and intimidated by the experience. What's neat is how it does contain some of the comic moments you'd expect from him, but restrained in a completely different context. It's easily the best work he's ever done and the true definition of a supporting performance, anchoring the film and Pitt the whole way through as his right-hand man..

In the far smaller but still fairly important role of A's 1st baseman Scott Hatteberg, Parks and Recreation's Chris Pratt is perfectly cast as the shocked and scared premiere pick of Beane and Brand's who has to step up and become the on-field poster boy of their statistical experiment. The little time spent on Beane's personal life is there to advance the sports story that's unfolding and get to know him, which is how it should be. There's just the right amount of emphasis on that and his ex-wife (Robin Wright) and daughter (Kerris Dorsey) that it doesn't feel like an intrusion meant to soften the character or show how his life is in shambles as a lesser script might.

Director Bennett Millers' handling of the material is tremendous in how he visually simplifies what could have been a dense watch for non-sports fans, with the playing scenes only bolstered by Mychael Danna's anthemic score. At 2 hours and 13 minutes the film arguably could have used a snip or a trim, but it's difficult to feel that way watching it. If anything, it's so level-headed and straightforward it's biggest problem may be that it's the type of film easier to respect than love, but time will tell.  When Beane says "it's easy to be romantic about baseball" we expect nothing less than an easy, inspirational conclusion. Instead we get one that leaves you to consider what constitutes "winning" and wondering whether Beane could have been toppled by the very approach he helped popularize. When the title card appeared on screen revealing what became of him since that '02 season, I heard audible gasps of shock from the audience, perhaps a testament to how few still know what he accomplished in a sport primarily concerned with who won the last game.