cinefreakdude

There's a scene in Jurassic World where Bryce Dallas Howard's character discusses why it's necessary for the titular theme park to create bigger, better, new dinosaurs to keep customers interested, as the public has by now gotten bored with "just" the regular dinosaurs. Ironically, this is a perfect metaphor for the franchise itself – it takes more than just a CGI T-Rex to get a "wow" out of audiences now-a- days, and this fourth Jurassic installment seems to acknowledge this, even though it fails to do anything spectacular or different enough to recapture even a sliver of the original's awe factor.

Jurassic Park may have been my first cinematic love, so it was only natural for me to be excited about Jurassic World when it was announced. Although skeptical about certain aspects of the film's production, I held out hope that it would be made with care enough to at least elevate it above the previous two sequels. Unfortunately, this is the first major disappointment of the summer; it's little more than a dumb, run-of-the-mill schlock machine, and has more in common with a SyFy Channel Original than a Spielbergian blockbuster.

I knew from merely the first ten minutes that this was going to be a downhill ride. Incessant product placement, rushed storytelling and bad acting abounding, Jurassic World's utterly forgettable characters and cringe worthy script only remind us what a masterclass in narrative structure and suspense building the original film was. And yes, even this latest installment's visual effects fail to impress – the CGI is average and it really doesn't help that all this has simply been done before, much better.

Chris Pratt and Bryce Dallas Howard are both good actors, but the material they're given to work with is abysmal. The character models are cliché and sexist, and the romance feels no less than revoltingly shoe-horned in. After the brilliant Mad Max: Fury Road so refreshingly raised the bar and upset the balance concerning what is expected from a big budget action flick, the many sins of Jurassic World seem all the more lazy and unforgivable. Oh, and the cinematography, lighting and editing give the film the look of a commercial for the entire runtime, which it basically is anyway due to the shameless, nonstop product placement.

Marginally better than Jurassic Park 3, but not even deserving association with Spielberg's original masterpiece, Jurassic World's finale of battling 'Rexes is the sole moment in the film in which I felt even remotely on-board. And even this battle is in many ways an inferior reenactment of the climax of last year's Godzilla, which was a far more successful attempt at a Spielbergian monster movie. Jurassic World is depressingly bad; I can't really recommend it on any basis.

Reading though IMDb's message boards after watching "I Stand Alone", I came across a post questioning whether or not films like this should exist. The post rambled on longer than most would care to read, questioning the moral content of the movie and the intent of Gaspar Noé is making it. The answer is that yes, films like "I Stand Alone" should exist, and the reason why is contained within the question itself.

In a sea of unoriginal and intellectually vapid cinema (the purpose of which is what really needs be on trial), a movie that inspires a viewer to actually ponder the artist's moral integrity and the content presented on screen needs to exist and continue to be made. Depending on whom you ask, film is either a form of entertainment, or of art. Those who have been exposed to work like this — that of a filmmaker like Noé — would be more inclined in ten-fold to answer that, indeed, cinema is an art form. Art is, in many ways, a form of provocation. Visceral to the human mind and emotions is a piece like "I Stand Alone", as it genuinely challenges what we've come to expect statement- wise from a movie.

A narrative exploration of stream-of-conscious storytelling, the film confronts the evils tolerated by society and compares them to the evils considered unacceptable. Featuring only one main, defined character, the audience is challenged as to whether he is a good man who has been destroyed by surroundings and experiences, or a legitimately bad person deceptively painted by the lens of the storyteller. The bravest aspect of the movie however, is that it provides no answer. To inspire this breed of thinking with the audaciousness of the presented content is an undeniably brave act of filmmaking.

To preface this review, I should mention that prestige biopics, Oscar season dramas and other true-story films of this ilk are not exactly the kind of film I hold in highest regard. Not to sound too snobby, but I'd rather watch a David Lynch or Coen brothers movie over a period piece any day of the week. That being said, when a film like The Imitation Game actually does impress me, that means it must be doing something right. I think this film is very much worth seeing — and that there's a lot to admire here — even if it's not the most artistic or unique movie of the year.

Benedict Cumberbatch is the standout element here. His performance, which is backed up strongly by costar's Keira Knightley, transcends the somewhat generic filmmaking and bland direction, and helps to give it more genuinely likable and interesting qualities overall. Cumberbatch gives this material his all, and his performance is nuanced and believable; he's even able to deliver some of the clunkier dialog gracefully.

The Imitation Game is lucky in that it's a legitimately fascinating true story. It's a war story about a less glorified, less talked about aspect of warfare, and the portrayal of Alan Turing and the role he played in winning World War II makes for a compelling account. Yes, the movie does feel slightly Oscar-baity at times, and it goes through many of the motions that a film of its genre is expected to go through, but the history is rich and important enough that it does elevate the less impressive aspects of the piece.

While it may owe the majority of its quality to Cumberbatch and the source true story, The Imitation Game is a well made and respectfully told tribute to Alan Turing, and an interesting, at times stirring, biopic that is worth the price of admission. The ending in particular is very emotional and hard-hitting, and because of the fact that Turing never received proper recognition, it's important to know this story — even if the film itself is little more than a vehicle for just that. It's worth a trip to the cinema this Oscar season.