Guardians of the Galaxy – Review

guardians

The Marvel Comics’ cinematic universe has grown by leaps and bounds over the last couple of years, and with the new Guardians of the Galaxy opening this weekend, it is hitting celestial heights.  But what is most remarkable about what Marvel has done is that while everything works as a whole, each new film can stand on it’s own as self-contained story.  There’s no need to have seen every other Marvel movie to date to enjoy each movie; except for maybe the Avengers films, which ties everything together.  What’s definitely become apparent is that Marvel, as well as parent studio Disney, have taken their success and made work towards the benefit of these franchises.  As these films have become more and more grandiose, it has reflected back in huge box office numbers, and it has led the studios to invest more and more into every follow-up.  Starting off with Jon Favreau’s Iron Man (2008), we’ve seen the Marvel Universe grow to include films for The Incredible Hulk (2008), Thor (2011), and Captain America: The First Avenger (2011); working together to establish their individual heroes with plans to team them all up for the big crossover that was The Avengers (2012).  These origin films, along with Iron Man 2, marked the Phase 1 stage of Marvel’s ambitious “Avenger Initiative”, and in the last two years we’ve seen the fruition of Phase 2, leading up to next years Avengers sequel: Age of Ultron (2015).  It started off with the established characters, with the disappointing Iron Man 3 (2013), followed by the much better Thor: The Dark World (2013) and Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014).  This week, however, brings us probably the biggest gamble of Marvel’s Phase 2, with a set of all new characters in Guardians of the Galaxy.

Guardians has had a varied and complex history that makes it quite an unusual choice for such a prominent place in the Marvel universe.  The Guardians made their first appearance in print around 1969, but that original team of superheroes doesn’t matter so much here, because none of them are used in the movie.  Instead, Marvel chose to adapt from the 2008 reboot of the team in the comics.  This modern team is made up of a human space scavenger named Star-Lord (aka Peter Quill) and his rag-tag team that includes an assassin named Gamora, a ruthless maniac named Drax the Destroyer, a gun-totting foul-mouthed raccoon named Rocket, and a giant plant monster named Groot.  The reason why this specific team was chosen over the other classic team is probably because they have far many more connections with the current Marvel universe, and are probably being set up for future involvement in the Avengers franchise.  And indeed, some of the plot does revolve around elements that exist within other Marvel films, but not enough to make the film reference heavy.  Indeed, this is without a doubt the right group of characters to center a franchise on.  But, even still, Guardians of the Galaxy isn’t as widely read as some of Marvel’s other big names, so investing a lot of money into a film with an unproven brand is certainly a gamble on Marvel’s part.  In addition, you’ve got a film that’s built around an ensemble rather than a key central character, which makes it even harder to sell to a larger audience, especially when some of those characters are still fairly new and unknown (only Star-Lord has been around for longer than a decade, and he’s only appeared briefly since his debut in 1976).   And yet, it was a gamble Marvel was willing to make and it appears to be one that has produced some incredible dividends for the studio.

The plot is fairly straight-forward, which is good given the complexity of the universe that it exists in.  Star-Lord (Chris Pratt) steals an artifact from an abandoned sanctuary and hopes to sell it for a handsome reward.  Unfortunately, he soon learns that the artifact he stole belonged to a crazed alien overlord named Ronan the Accuser (Lee Pace), who had designs on using the artifact to accomplish his evil goals of world destruction.   What’s more, Ronan is also working in league with the mad Titan, Thanos (Josh Brolin), a key villain in the whole Marvel cinematic universe.  Thanos sends one of his daughters, Gamora (Zoe Saldana) to capture Star-Lord and retrieve the artifact, but she has plans of her own to undermine both Thanos and Ronan.  Gamora finds Star-Lord, but is thwarted when two bounty hunters, Rocket and Groot (voiced by Bradley Cooper and Vin Diesel, respectively), get to him first.  The four of them are imprisoned deep in a maximum security pen deep in space, and only manage to break out thanks to the help of the super strong mercenary Drax (Dave Bautista), who has his own bone to pick with Ronan.  The reluctant team of outlaws use all of their best skills to work together and soon they discover what lies within the mystical artifact, and what both Ronan and Thanos want to do with it.  What follows is a harrowing adventure through the cosmos with encounters from many strange and bizarre characters along the way, like Star-Lord’s fellow artifact hunter Yondu (Michael Rooker)and the very eccentric Collecter (Benicio del Toro).

It’s pretty safe to say that the movie is very jammed packed with characters.  I didn’t even mention that some of the roles are also played by notable actors like Djimon Hounsou, John C. Reilly, and even Glenn Close.  But, what is even more amazing is how well everything works together.  In it’s whole 2 hour running time, I don’t think that a single frame of film was wasted on anything that didn’t need to be there.  It’s a real testament to the talents of director James Gunn, who managed to pull off a huge, complex production like this and make it feel effortless.  In many ways, I think that this movie is actually the best example of Marvel’s house style at work.  It’s adventurous, but done with a sincere sense of humor that helps to give the whole thing a very comic book feel.  This contrasts sharply with DC and Warner’s more hard-edged and darker superhero movies like The Dark Knight (2008) and Man of Steel (2013), which is a good thing.  Marvel has perfected their style over several films now, and Guardians is the culmination of all that hard work.  It’s fresh, funny, but also knows when to drive home the action-packed moments.  In many ways, I actually think that this movie has a lot more in common with the Avengers films than any of the other standalone films in the Marvel canon.  Instead of relying on a central hero, Guardians devotes it’s story towards building a team of misfits, all who work well off of each other.  That team dynamic helps to boost the fun factor of the movie, and like The Avengers, it’s a helluva lot of fun watching these characters bouncing off of one another.

Probably the film’s biggest strength is the absolutely outstanding cast.  The Guardians themselves could not have been better selected in their roles, and each actor should be highly commended.  First of all, Chris Pratt absolutely nails the charisma and humanity of Star-Lord.  It’s the kind of role that will turn him into an A-List star overnight, and I have no doubt that this will happen after audiences see this movie.  And he manages to carry forward the heart of the film without ever outshining his equally adept co-stars.  Zoe Saldana is no stranger to ambitious space operas (Avatar and Star Trek), but she manages to show us even more sides to her talents as a performer with her role as Gamora; another in a growing group of strong, female heroes in the Marvel canon.  Dave Bautista gives surprising depth to the character Drax, making him both intimidating and lovable, all at the same time.  Drax’s failed attempts at eloquence are especially hilarious to watch and are perfectly delivered by Bautista.  And then there are the two CGI-animated team members; both of whom are fully-realized by the effects team and by the actors voicing them.  Bradley Cooper is almost un-recognizable as Rocket, but his work here perfectly matches the personality of the spunky raccoon.   I’m sure Rocket will be a fan-favorite for most of the audience, since he gets most of the best lines, and Cooper actually manages to bring out a lot of humanity in his performance.  And then we have Vin Diesel as Groot.  It really is remarkable how one actor can give such an indelible performance with a character who can only say three words: “I am Groot.”  But then again, he managed to do the same thing with the limited vocabulary of the titular character in The Iron Giant (1999), so as a result, he is perfectly cast here as well.  And considering the limitations that the character presented for the cast and crew, Groot may very well be the film’s greatest triumph.

If there is anything that is underwhelming in the movie at all, it could be the villainous characters.  None of them are bad per say, but neither do they carry the same weight that the main heroes do.  Lee Pace’s Ronan is pretty stock as far as comic book villains go, but he does manage to still make him an intimidating foe.  The look of Ronan is also unique and overall, he still does work as a central villain in the film.  We also finally see a full-bodied Thanos in this movie (after he was teased in the closing credits of The Avengers), but his time on-screen is unfortunately short-lived, and I wonder if it would’ve been better if Marvel had held off showing him for a bit longer.  Ronan’s accomplices unfortunately are given little to do, and in the end seem wasted as characters, particularly in the case of Djimon Hounsou’s role.  But, thankfully, these are minor character problems in a film that works surprisingly well as an ensemble.   Michael Rooker (of Walking Dead fame), in particular steals nearly every scene he is in as the tough-as-nails Yondu.  And Benicio del Toro is very welcome here as The Collector; a character that I’m sure will affect the Marvel universe in big ways in future installments.  Also, John C. Reilly and Glen Close fill their brief roles surprisingly well as part of the Nova Corps that fights Ronan alongside the Guardians.   And what I like best about the cast in this movie is that each of them is allowed enough time to make an impression on the audience without disrupting the momentum of the plot.  Every character gets their moment and by the end of the film, we are fully invested in each of the character’s story arcs.  Usually a superhero movie puts all the focus onto it’s main protagonist, but here we benefit from a story that spreads the wealth around.

In addition to the stellar cast, we also get a movie that is stunningly beautiful to look at.  A lot of praise should go to the production team that created a space adventure that feels unique and of it’s own universe.  Again, this movie is a Marvel film stylistically, but you don’t have to have seen any of the other films or have read any of the comics to feel fully immersed into what’s on display here.  I wouldn’t be surprised if this film becomes hailed as one of the greatest sci-fi movies of all time in the future; taking a place alongside Star Wars (1977) and Avatar (2009), because it certainly shares it’s sense of scale with those particular films.  Director Gunn manages to give us just enough eye-candy on display without getting us overwhelmed, and every new world feels unique and real.  Contrast this with Michael Bay and his Transformers movies, which seem to believe that every second on screen should be taken up with CGI wizardry and mayhem, as opposed to letting the atmosphere build.  Indeed, Gunn is going for more of a lived in universe, like what Star Wars presented, where every world is unique, along with all of it’s inhabitants.  Little things like the way Star-Lord’s ship sails through the cosmos or how Groot smiles at the audiences goes a long way towards giving this movie a personality, and it makes it all endearing to fans.  The cinematography also gives this movie a grand, epic feel, but still with enough restraint to let us know what is going on.  And also there’s the excellent soundtrack throughout.  The epic score is provided by composer Tyler Bates, but what I’m sure most people will remember is the collection of classic tunes from the rocking 70’s that punctuates several scenes.  Not only do they contribute to the personality of the film itself, but they are actually integral to the story as well, and I’m sure that many people who see this movie will be walking out of the theater humming a couple of them by the end.

Overall, Guardians of the Galaxy is an absolute triumph, and a perfect representation of how to do a comic book adaptation right.  What Marvel should be especially proud of is the fact that they took one of their more obscure titles and managed to make a movie worthy of the brand name that stands up against any of their other blockbusters.  The larger, non-comic book reading public audience may not have known about the Guardians before, but they certainly will now.  I for one had never heard of the characters until this movie was announced.  Now I am eagerly awaiting to see what is next for Star-Lord and his team.  And indeed, you can enjoy this movie either as part of the larger Marvel “master plan” or as it’s own self-contained story, and still get the same out of it.   This is largely thanks to an exceptional cast doing their absolute best work coupled with an excellent production that utilized the best minds in both visual design and construction.  This film, all together, proudly shows off what is best about the Marvel house style and as it exists as probably Marvel’s best stand-alone film to date; only the more ground-breaking and ambitious Avengers stands above it.  This movie is certainly one of this summer’s best films; if not the best.  Just keep in mind, if you’re looking forward to any tie-in with next year’s Avengers: Age of Ultron, you won’t find it here.  The movie more-or-less stays within it’s own self-contained world and does not try to tease the next film in line like some of the other Marvel movies do; although there is a hilarious stinger at the end of the credits that I won’t spoil for you, but it’s still worth sitting through to see for yourself.   Hopefully I have removed any doubt for many of you about seeing this movie with this review.  It is absolutely worth watching, on the biggest possible screen if you can, and it represents all the best things about the Marvel cinematic universe that we’ve seen up to now.

“I…am…Groot!!”

Rating: 9/10

Tinseltown Throwdown – Twister vs. Sharknado

twister

There are many cases in Hollywood where films with similar premises arise at the same time; sometimes so identical that they’re hardly distinguishable.  Oftentimes these movies tend to be ridiculous popcorn flicks that more or less are trying to cash in on a fad or a topical event.  Sometimes these movies go into development at the same time and are released within months of each other.  Others are made in response to another’s success, either trying to duplicate the same formula or taking the earlier film even further.  Either way, movies like these are often looked at as the reason why people believe that Hollywood is running out of ideas.  That could be true, but then again, why would somebody put effort into making a movie that they already know has been done before.  I wrote an article about copycat films earlier this year, and in that article I noted that following a trend usually factors into why these movies get made, but what I find interesting here are films that follow similar formulas that seemingly rise out of nowhere.  The blockbuster era of the 90’s saw a lot of this, with disaster movies dominating the cineplexes.   It seemed like at this particular time, studios were sold more on concepts than stories and it ended up starting a race to see who could capitalize on them first.  This particular idea of concepts driving development has led me to create this new series where I take a look at movies with similar scenarios, and decide which one did it better.  In particular, I will take a look at these so-called “cinematic twins,” as well as movie remakes, copycat films riding the coattails of other popular flicks, and movie homages where they copy other films on purpose.  And by contrasting these movies, I will hopefully make it clear how one or both succeeds and/or fails with the premises that they share.

For my first article in this series, I thought I would look at two movies separated by 17 years of film history, but are still deserving of a comparative analysis.  Sticking with the disaster movie genre, I am bringing Jan de Bont’s 1996 thriller Twister and SyFy Network’s 2013 blockbuster Sharknado into the ring, and see which one is the better cyclone-based action film.  Now, on the surface, you may think that these two have nothing in common.  Apart from the lengthy space of time in between their premieres, the movies are also significantly different in scale and production values.  One is a big budget film that features a star-studded cast and top-notch special effects work, while the other movie is a made-for-TV schlock-fest featuring D-List actors and C- grade CGI.  But, the question that I pose is whether or not those differences in film quality make any difference.  Let’s be honest, they are both incredibly flawed films, but does one of these movies actually benefit from it’s flaws, while the other is sunken by them?  Do lowered expectations come into play, or must a movie purely be judged on the quality of it’s production?  I put forth the idea that Twister and Sharknado are very comparable movies, because of the way that they exploit their premise with very little thought for anything else like plot and character development; or science for that matter.  In some ways, that’s what makes them both entertaining to watch.  But what definitely separates these two movies significantly is their tone, and that’s primarily where I will find the strengths and weakness in each.  So, between Twister and Sharknado, who made the better corny Tornado movie?

sharknado

“We can’t just wait here for sharks to rain down on us.”

First of all, we’ve got to exclude comparisons in the quality of the special effects in the two movies, because on that front, Twister clearly would win.  On top of that, Sharknado isn’t even attempting to try to match Twister’s quality of CGI animation, nor would it be allowed to.  The only way that the two films can be comparable here is when it comes to and how they use their production values.  What I find interesting about the way Sharknado uses it’s effects is that every special effect is there to punctuate a moment in a hilarious fashion.  In Twister, the effects are there to create a foreboding atmosphere, something that it does very well.  Honestly, the best thing you can say about Twister is that it actually looks like the characters are really caught up in a storm.  Sharknado on the other hand doesn’t even try to hide the fact that it was shot in the middle of Summer in Los Angeles, with the titular “Sharknado” appearing out of clear blue skies.   But, then again, Sharknado delivers on what it promises, which is the mindless destruction of a famous city.  While it does look cheap as hell, it nevertheless paints a broad picture.  Twister on the other hand, with all it’s endless resources, tends to keep things squarely grounded, and as a result it feels smaller in ambition.  All we get in Twister is a lot of torn up farmland, but not much else.  The only time that Twister really goes a little nutty is towards the end, when Bill Paxton and Helen Hunt’s characters are fleeing the massive F-5 tornado, including a part where they drive their truck straight through a displaced farm house.   By keeping things a little more subdued in the beginning, Twister almost undermines it’s ability to entertain with it’s premise, something that the more outlandish Sharknado takes full advantage of.  So, yeah the sharks in Sharknado look totally artificial, but they’re used to their full potential.  Better looking tornadoes in Twister cost more, so it limits how much they can be used, thereby lessening their impact.

But, restraint can be a blessing.  Those moments when the tornadoes appear in Twister are very impressive, even by today’s visual effects standards.  And by limiting their presence in the film, it also make them stand out and be more impactful.  If only everything in between worked as well.  Twister’s main flaw, above all the other big ones, is that there is no consistency of tone.  It goes from melodramatic to absurd many times over throughout the very thin plot, and sometimes the tonal shifts are jarring.  There’s also a certain uncomfortable grimness through many of the scenes, particularly regarding ones centered around Helen Hunt’s character, Jo.  She has a tragic past that is alluded to frequently, but is never fully explored.   This has actually resulted in some of the movie’s most notorious scenes, like the infamous “finger of god” moment halfway through the film.  The moment’s attempt at sincerity falls flat on it’s face, and ends up being hilarious instead.  But, while a moment like that is remembered fondly for how awful it is, it unfortunately is not true for the rest of the movie.  Twister never cohesively comes together, and is only remembered for parts than as a whole.  Sharknado on the other hand is consistently absurd from beginning to end.  It wears it’s preposterous-ness proudly and manages to carry it through to the end.  But in many ways, that can also work as a negative.  At some point, when your film is consistently ridiculous, the humor can run it’s course and start to feel old.  To it’s credit, unlike so many other SyFy films, Sharknado doesn’t lag too much.  But there comes a point where you begin to get tired of those long scenes inside the getaway truck with inconsequential dialogue between characters .  There is a balance that these kinds of movies have to adhere to in order to keep them from going to either extreme, but when comparing these two films together, it seems like Sharknado benefits a little more by going further in one particular direction.

twister cow

“I gotta go Julia.  We’ve got cows.”

What ultimately determines what makes one of these ridiculous movies better than the other is the intent vs. result factor.  Did each film do what it was meant to do ends up being the defining question, and in this case, the results work more in Sharknado’s favor.  Sharknado was conceived from the very beginning to be exactly what it is; low-budget cheese meant to exploit an already ridiculous premise.  And in every respect, it fulfills that promise.  Lowered expectations makes the shoddy production values acceptable for audiences wanting just that, and Sharknado never disappoints by always disappointing.  Twister on the other hand is trying to reach higher aspirations, but the results don’t reflect that.  Twister was never intended to be seen as a joke, but rather a sincere look at the destructive effects of tornadoes in America.  The fact that it fails at this so measurably is what has made it noteworthy, but it also makes the film much more notorious.   Sharknado actually encourages it’s audience to laugh along with it, but when you laugh at Twister, you can’t help but think that it’s at the expense of someone else’s serious intent, deserved or not.   Twister is exceptionally well made, but because it failed in the story and script department ultimately makes it seen as a failure with regards to making it’s premise work.  Sharknado accomplished it’s goal of giving us a tornado filled with sharks along with intentionally bad acting and dialogue, and that was a result worth rewarding.  Sometimes it helps to step back and embrace the absurdity whole-heartedly.

And again, the tone shifts matter with this distinction.  There are instances in Twister where the film does deliver some memorably absurd moments.  They had cows flying in tornadoes long before there were sharks.  But, whenever the love triangle story-line works it’s way in, the story derails.  And what’s more, the movie tries to make it’s science seem logical, when any meteorologist will tell you that it’s complete nonsense.   Whenever the movie tries to sell itself as thought provoking when it’s obviously based off of junk science, that’s when you begin to question it’s validity as a whole.  Sharknado on the other hand so obviously doesn’t care about scientific accuracy, and it actually makes the absurdity of the movie all the more enjoyable.  The character’s big plan for stopping the “Sharknadoes” in the movie is to drop explosives into the vortexes and blow them up.  That idea is so ridiculously stupid that it’s genius, on the part of the writer I mean.  What better way to end a movie with this ridiculous a premise than by having the characters take on the most absurd actions possible.  At least the filmmakers had the good sense to make it purposefully dumb.  When Twister tries to make the implausible happen in their movie, we can’t just turn our brains off and accept it, because the movie’s tone hasn’t allowed us too.  When Bill Paxton and Helen Hunt survive a tornado’s path of destruction by strapping themselves to a pipe near the movie’s end, we don’t know whether to accept that as a believable conclusion or to laugh at it’s preposterous-ness, because the movie never makes the tone clear.   With Shaknado, madness is it’s ultimate purpose, while there never seems to be any purpose in Twister other than to get the plot where it needs to go.

sharknado chainsaw

The reason why I feel that these two movies should be judged against one another is because it shows how Hollywood movies ultimately rise and fall in unexpected ways.  Here we see a big budget blockbuster fail to make good on it’s premise despite having all the resources available to do so, while another film gets made on a shoe-string budget with very little expectations and delivers on what it promises.  In the end, both movies are absurd disaster flicks that end up being more stupid than thought-provoking.  But what makes one better than the other is that one movie was made that way on purpose, while the other squandered it’s potential.  It’s amazing that a movie with wooden performances from the likes of Ian Ziering and Tara Reid could be more entertaining than a film with future Oscar-winners like Helen Hunt and Phillip Seymour Hoffman in it’s cast.  But then again, Twister is a movie where Hoffman is reduced to saying the phrase, “I’m talking imminent rueage.”  Twister hopes that people will excuse it’s lack of subtlety while Sharknado draws attention right to it, and that ultimately makes it feel like a more honest film.   The independent film market can be full of itself sometimes, but so can blockbuster movies, and that’s why I cherish the ridiculousness of Sharknado, because it shows that movies like Twister can never be taken seriously or should.   Yes the conditions for each film’s productions are different, but in the end, they are not that dissimilar, and that’s a result of Sharknado‘s success and Twister’s failure.  So, in the end, Sharknado stands as the better movie, thanks to a consistent tone and a knowing sense of humor.  Twister has it’s moments, but it hasn’t aged well over the years, and considering that a made-for-TV monster movie has done the tornado disaster premise better (and with sharks no less), it doesn’t reflect well on the studio movie-making machine.

Focus on a Franchise – Austin Powers

austin powers

One thing that we’ve come to know in the last few decades is that big-budget comedies are going to suck, and also that big-budget comedy sequels are going to suck even more.  It’s become an unfortunate trend over the years, all but defining the declining careers of once great comedians like Eddie Murphy and Jim Carrey.  And it’s a shame because there was once a time when comedies could be both ambitious and funny.  Back in the 80’s, those kinds of movies were very common, like Ghostbusters (1984), The Naked Gun (1988), or Back to the Future (1985); films that were both ambitious in scale and vision, but were also side-splittingly funny on purpose.  That kind of movie went away in the decades thereafter, as comedies began to become more grounded and sketchy.  The obvious influence of the popular Saturday Night Live series affected many of the movies of this time period, since most of them centered around one or two of the show’s former cast members.  The late night show’s legacy has given Hollywood comedies the supply of fresh stars that they’ve needed, but it’s also limited what those same stars can accomplish outside of the show.  Again, the changing standards of comedies has made it so that comedy actors have to stay true to their late night image instead of branching out with bold, new ideas.  Old timers like Dan Aykroyd and Bill Murray had the advantage of oppurtunities to make a Ghostbusters in a time when your stint on SNL didn’t define who you were.  Now, studios would balk at fresh faced sketch performers wanting to make anything ambitious like that today.  For many of them, their first starring role in a movie may very well be a feature length version of their popular SNL sketch; and we all know how well those turn out.  But if there is one SNL alum who proved to be the last of his kind in this area, it was comedian Mike Myers, who bucked the trend with his popular series of Austin Powers films.

Mike Myers spent seven successful years on Saturday Night Live, from 1989 to 1995, as both a performer and as a writer.  He managed to make a mark on the show with popular characters he crafted himself, like the very oddball Dieter and Simon, who reflected his own oddball style.  But it was the Wayne’s World sketch that he performed with fellow cast member Dana Carvey that would become his biggest hit.  In fact, he accomplished the near impossible by making a successful feature film adaptation of this sketch, even while still performing as the character on SNL.  Wayne’s World (1992) and it’s 1993 sequel, are anomalies in the SNL canon, as they are actually funny and manage to retain their identity even at a two hour run-time; only the Blues Brothers had been able to do that before, and no other SNL characters have done it since.  In the years that followed, Mike Myers unexpectedly took a hiatus after leaving SNL.  In those years, he was no doubt working on what was soon to become the Austin Powers series.  With those movies, he managed to create something of a love letter to the movies he watched as a child; mainly spy thrillers and heist movies from the psychedelic 60’s.  At the same time, he crafted a really unique character in Austin Powers.  Sort of like a James Bond if he were played by Peter Sellers, Austin Powers loves to party and have a “shagadelic” time in bed, while saving the world at the same time.  Being both a self-referential parody and a rollicking adventure, the Austin Powers series is definitely unique, and most importantly, very funny.   But it also represents one of the last times that a comedy was allowed to be ambitious and even weird.  In this article, I’m going to look at the Austin Powers franchise, and how it proved to be a turning point in ambitious epic comedies, being both the genre’s last hurrah, and also a harbinger of it’s decline.

fembots

AUSTIN POWERS: INTERNATIONAL MAN OF MYSTERY (1997)

The first Austin Powers is today considered a comedy classic, but it would surprise many of you that it wasn’t a huge box office smash.  Released quietly in the spring of 1997, the movie made a modest gross of $53 million, and both critics and audiences didn’t think much of it at first, probably believing the movie was too quirky to be taken seriously.  It wasn’t until the film’s home video release that the movie took off.  Word of mouth helped to make the film an underground hit and today it is now highly unlikely that you’ll find anyone who isn’t familiar with it.  And it’s easy to see what has made this flick such a classic.  It’s a perfect example of a parody film done right.  It pokes fun at it’s source of inspiration, namely the Bond franchise, but also celebrates it as well.  Also helping the film greatly is Myers performance.  His Austin is an obvious caricature of the time period, but there’s also a humanity underneath that endears him to the audience.  In less capable hands, Austin could have become an obnoxious clown, but thankfully the film makes him a hero worth rooting for, while at the same time laughing at his antics.  He’s goofy, but he also has a soul.  But probably Myers best work in the film was not in playing the lead, but in creating the film’s antagonist.  Pulling double duty, Myers also played the role of the villain; the aptly named Doctor Evil.  Evil is an obvious reference to frequent Bond adversary, Blofeld, but Myers added another hilarious layer by giving the character a not-so-thinly veiled voice based on famed SNL producer Lorne Michaels.  It’s a clever little touch like that which makes Austin Powers feel so fresh as a comedy and one that is unlike anything else.

What I love best about the movie is that every comedic bit in the film works.  They are all perfectly crafted to get a big laugh and they end at just the right moment.  Some of the bits even have the confidence to take wild detours without endangering the momentum of the script.  Case in point, a scene where Dr. Evil is attending a group therapy session with his son Scott (Seth Green).  It has nothing to do with the rest of the story, but it’s so funny that you don’t care if it comes out of nowhere, especially when Evil starts to recount his dark but hilarious backstory.  Other bits like Austin being awoken from hibernation in a labratory, and not being able to control the volume of his voice, or Dr. Evil complaining to his subordinate Number Two (Robert Wagner) about not having sharks with lasers on their heads, also contributes to the hilarity.  And what really helps to make the movie work most is that there’s not an ounce of cynicism in all of this.  Myers doesn’t try to hit you over the head with any message and nothing is presented in a mean spirited way.  It’s does what a great comedy always must do, which is to make it’s audience have a good time.   In many ways, this was a labor of love for Mike Myers that really paid off and showed that someone could redefine their film career with a fresh new idea executed with ambition and vision.  It may not have hit it’s mark right away, but it left an impact that has become hard to top since.  In the words of it’s main hero, it was “groovy, baby.”

evil and mini me

AUSTIN POWERS: THE SPY WHO SHAGGED ME (1999)

Given the surprise success of the first Austin Powers, it was inevitable that a sequel would follow in it’s footsteps.  What took many people by surprise, however, was just how big of a bump the series would get.  When the second film, The Spy Who Shagged Me, premiered in the summer of 1999, it actually made more in it’s opening weekend than the first film made in it’s entire run; a whopping $56 million.  After that, the final gross ended up at $206 million, showing that not only was Austin Powers a successful franchise, but also a force to be reckoned with.  And was the film worthy of the extra bump?  Absolutely.  It takes everything from the original film and amps it up to 11, making it one of the most ambitious comedy sequels ever made.  Thankfully, the good-natured sense of humor is still there, albeit not quite as fresh the second time around.  The follow-up takes place right after the first, with Austin again chasing after Dr. Evil, only this time, the two go back in time to the 60’s, reliving their glory days all over again.  The film rehashes a lot of popular bits from the first movie (like Will Farrell’s hapless minion Mustafa being not so easily disposed of), but it also newly introduced some of the series most notable features as well.  In particular, the addition of the characters Fat Bastard (Myers, once again) and Mini-Me, Dr. Evil’s midget clone.  The crude and mean-spirited Mini-Me (Verne Troyer) became one of the franchise most popular characters out of this film, and would continue to become a pop culture punchline well beyond his role in the movie.   A running joke about the shape of Dr. Evil’s space ship also became a favorite, and was also a sign that Myers still was able to deliver a lot of fresh and funny gags into this franchise.

Unfortunately, the movie doesn’t hold together as well as the first one.  It’s still hilarious, but the consistency of the humor was a little off.  Where the original managed to make every bit work cohesively together, The Spy Who Shagged Me tends to have one or two bits that lead nowhere, or end up being not funny at all.  The gross out jokes in particular feel rather out of place; especially the ones related to the character Fat Bastard.  Also a scene where Austin mistakes a stool sample for a cup of coffee just comes off as cringe inducing and mean-spirited.  But that’s thankfully a small portion of the film.  Overall, the jokes still hit their mark and the movie does hold up over multiple viewings.  This is primarily because the sense of fun is still maintained.  Austin is still likable as a character and the series still doesn’t try to take itself too seriously.  As a sequel, it actually manages to expand on it’s world, as silly as it is, and shows perfectly that even comedies can be epic sometimes.  In this case, it perfectly compliments the Bond films that it’s paroding, which themselves became sillier the more ambitious they got.  When most comedies of that era were succumbing to audiences that were becoming less interested in their grand visions, with failures like Ivan Reitman’s Evolution (2001) and Eddie Murphy’s The Adventures of Pluto Nash (2002) being all too common, Austin Powers continued to be the genre’s last true epic series.

goldmember

AUSTIN POWERS IN GOLDMEMBER (2002)

Here is where we start to see the series coming off the rails.  Though still enormously successful at the box office, opening at $70 million and having a final gross of $216 million, it’s clear while watching the movie that the freshness of the original premise has been entirely used up.  At this point, Mike Myers was starting to stretch the concept thin, and few if any of the new jokes managed to be memorable at all.  The only fresh new idea put into this film was taking Austin back in time again, only now to the 1970’s, which offered a whole new era to poke fun of.  If only more could have been made of that.  In a way, Austin Powers became a victim of it’s own success; making it reliant on too many of it’s already over-used staple bits.  Mike Myers is still funny as Austin, but you can tell that he’s probably had enough with the character, and that he’s just fulfilling an obligation here.  The remaining cast also feels the same way.  Sorry Beyonce fans, but Ms. Knowles feels particularly out of place in this movie, seemingly cast just for her looks than for any acting chops she has.  She especially pales compared to the more timeless qualities of Elizabeth Hurley and Heather Graham in the previous two films, who both seemed to compliment Myers’ over-the-top goofiness much better.  Also, the same crude jokes that marred parts of The Spy Who Shagged Me are expanded upon here, and not to good effect.  At the same time, it also looked like Myers’ creativity ran out, as his newest character (the titular Goldmember) is about as bland as can be.   It may have been the most profitable film in the series, but I doubt anyone today would count this one as among their favorites.

That’s not to say that it fails completely.  Goldmember still has it’s moments, and it’s probably the funniest third film in a comedy series that’s ever been made.  It starts off spectacularly well with a prologue showing an action packed remake of Austin Powers, with none other than Tom Cruise playing the super spy.  Gwyneth Paltrow, Kevin Spacey and Danny Devito also cameo in the prologue as the other cast of characters (no surprise who Devito’s playing), and to top it all off, it’s revealed that Steven Spielberg is directing, making a rare cameo appearance.  It’s a great self-referential opening that is definitely worth seeing.  Also, the casting of Austin Powers’ father was a brilliant casting coup; the remarkable Michael Caine.  Caine’s presence here is a clever nod to the movies that provided inspiration for the character of Austin; old British crime thrillers from the psychedelic era like Alfie (1966) and The Italian Job (1969), of which Michael Caine was the featured star.   He’s very funny here as well, especially in a scene where he and Austin speak in true English, which is them basically talking gibberish in a Cockney accent.  While these moments do get a genuine laugh, it’s still apperent that the series was running on fumes, and I think Mike Myers himself saw that too.  After Goldmember, Myers retired the character and there hasn’t been a follow-up since, though rumors still persist of another film that  will probably never see the light of day.  So, for the moment, Austin’s reign as a box office champ is complete and it did mark the end of an era in comedy.

Austin Powers’ popularity is out of the ordinary, but it makes sense once you’ve seen the films themselves.  The best word to describe the franchise is good-naturred.   It’s just there to touch our funny bones and it succeeds with incredible regularity.  But, it’s inevitable decline also marked the end for movies of it’s type.  While it isn’t responsible for the decline of ambitious, epic comedies, it did represent the last time that Hollywood would ever take a leap of faith on something out of the ordinary in the genre again.  Instead, comedies in the last decade have tended to be much smaller in scale, usually depicting a slice of everyday life instead of something weird.  Judd Apatow’s buddy comedies come to mind.  Even the likes of Eddie Murphy and Adam Sandler have opted to make movies that stick closer to reality; if you could call them that.  And if comedians try to do something a little more ambitious and weird, it ends up failing horribly.  Myers himself has fallen victim to this, as his 2008 film The Love Guru tried and failed to recapture some of that “mojo” from the Austin Powers series.  It’s an unfortunate result for someone who managed to not only capture lightning in a bottle once, but twice with this and with Wayne’s World.  But unfortunately that window of opportunity closed with the Powers series and comedies haven’t been the same since.  Will Austin Powers ever live again on the big screen, and is it better to let it go, so that another entry won’t get shot down by a less forgiving modern audience?  At the very least, this trilogy is still a fine example of ambitious comedy done right, and most of it still holds up many years later.  And that is most definitely “shagadelic.”

 

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes – Review

apes

 

There are few popular franchises out there that feel as peculiar as the Planet of the Apes series.  Those “damn dirty apes,” as Chuck Heston so famously called them, have become the stars of one of Hollywood’s longest lasting and profitable franchises.   Just by looking at the premise on it’s surface, it’s any wonder why this series has become so influential.  In essence, it’s a campy sci-fi series that once relied upon actors wearing monkey masks, but when looking closer, it’s clear that there is so much more to these movies.  The original Planet of the Apes was based on the novel of the same name by French author Pierre Boulle, and was quite an ambitious and gutsy undertaking at the time.  Instead of using the source material as a basis for an exploitation action treatment, 20th Century Fox decided to do an earnest adaptation and retain all of the social commentary and underlying themes contained in the original text.  Couple that with assured direction from Oscar-winner Franklin J. Shaffner (Patton) and a cast of quality actors like Heston, Roddy McDowall and Kim Hunter, and the result was a critically acclaimed action thriller that served as a touchstone film for American cinema at the time.  The success of the original was probably due to the fact that it wasn’t a dumbed down treatment, and it actually challenged it’s audiences, dealing with key issues like civil rights and nuclear proliferation, which were on people’s minds at the time.  Also, there was that memorable and bleak twist ending that people still talk about today; which came courtesy of Twilight Zone scribe Rod Serling.  Overall, Planet of the Apes proved to be a monumental film because it was far more intelligent and challenging movie than you would be led to believe, and the ability to preserve that trait in the series is what has made or broken every film thereafter.

Indeed, it’s whenever the series dumbed itself down that it has faltered.  Sometimes when new filmmakers come in, they see the Ape costumes and makeup as the main appeal of the story for audiences, but that’s not the case.  It’s seeing our world reflected back at us through this alternate version that we find so intriguing.  What’s frightening about the concept of the story is that humankind loses it’s freedom and identity when a new dominant species rises above them, and it makes us look at ourselves and how we’ve unwisely used our own power to subjugate other people.  That’s the true terror behind the story; that apes have become so human in the worst ways, and that humans are now the ones suffering.  Whenever the series strayed from this idea, it lost much of the edge that the franchise is known for.  The series continued through Beneath the Planet of the Apes (1970), then Escape from the Planet of the Apes (1971), and then it concluded with a saga that introduced the character of Caesar (played by Roddy McDowall) with Conquest of the Planet of the Apes (1972), and Battle for the Planet of the Apes (1973).  It was a rapid fire series that remarkably sustained it’s popularity until the G-Rated Battle under-performed.  It wasn’t until 2001 when Tim Burton made his reboot that we saw the apes on the big screen again, and it proved to be a huge misfire.  This is mainly due to Burton’s lack of insight into what made the original so effective, and instead the movie is filled with more action set-pieces than actually social commentary.  It would take 10 years before the series would be given a second life thanks to a refocused attempt at bringing the franchise back to it’s basics.  Instead of returning to the very beginning, the new reboot instead looked at the Caesar saga for inspiration, particularly drawing from Conquest’s story-line, and the result was the surprisingly successful Rise of the Planet of the Apes (2011).  Rise helped to reinvigorate the dormant franchise and it continues again with this year’s newest entry, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes.

Dawn takes place 10 years after the events of Rise, following the outbreak of a deadly virus that has wiped out almost all human life on the planet.   This same virus, which has been dubbed the Simian Flu, was used in the Rise story-line as the thing that gave the Apes their human-level intelligence.  Caesar (played in both Rise and Dawn by Andy Serkis) was the first successful test subject and with his extraordinary intelligence, he led all the other Apes in revolt against the humans.  In the years since the virus took it’s toll, the Apes have thrived under Caesar’s leadership, while the remaining humans scramble for what’s left of their society.  At the beginning of Dawn, a group of human explorers  stumble into Caesar’s camp.  Led by a peaceful engineer named Malcolm (Jason Clarke) the humans only wish to restart an old hydroelectric dam in the middle of Ape’s territory, so that they may have the power to contact the outside world.  Caesar doesn’t trust them at first, but reluctantly allows them to do their work in order to avoid further conflict.  Taking the diplomatic approach works well for both camps as Caesar and Malcolm learn a mutual respect for one another.  This harmony is broken, however, when a vengeful ape named Koba (Toby Kebbell) wishes to start an all-out war with the humans in order to wipe them out for good.  Meanwhile, in the nearby human colony, housed in the ruins of San Francisco, the colony leader Dreyfus (Gary Oldman) is resorting to ever more drastic means to keep order within amongst his people.  All this leads to a powder keg that is ready to erupt, which will test Caesar’s ability to lead his community and bring the humans and the apes to an inevitable conflict.

What I like about this film, and the movie that it follows up (Rise), is that they both keep to the original spirit of the first film in the series, without having to retread old ground.  Instead, they expand on the universe by filling us in on how Apes came to conquer human beings and become the dominant species on the planet.  It follows the same evolution of the saga that Conquest of the Planet of the Apes delivered, but shown in an entirely different way that builds perhaps a little more believably than those early films did.  In fact, the best thing about these new films is that you don’t need to see any of the other entries in the series in order to understand what is going on.  They stand on their own as fully realized narratives, although it might help to have seen Rise before Dawn, especially when it comes to understanding where the virus came from.  Other than that, Dawn does what all great sequels do and that’s to expand the world that’s been set up before and take it in a new, unexpected direction.  Indeed, Dawn works in many ways that Rise had failed to do; although there were a few things that Rise did better, but I’ll get to that later.  What I liked best about this movie was that it kept the intelligence that the series is best remembered for.  It doesn’t resort to cheap plot twists and mind-numbing action.  It actually uses most of it’s run-time to build character and atmosphere, which both brings out the best elements of the franchise and also makes this movie feel like something new as well.  Indeed, it does still feel like a Planet of the Apes movie, but one that is less inclined to reference anything else from the series.  Really, the only references I can remember to other movies was seeing Caesar and his fellow apes riding horses in a few scenes, and also giving one of the Apes the name Maurice ( a clever nod to original Dr. Zaius actor Maurice Evans).

But if you want to look at what really makes this particular film notable, it’s the performance given by Andy Serkis as Caesar.  Serkis has pretty much become the master of motion-capture acting, gaining notoriety over everyone else in this particular field.  Probably best known for his motion-capture and voice work as Gollum in the Lord of the Rings and Hobbit series, Serkis has taken his expertise with the process and used it to create a truly memorable protagonist with Caesar.  It’s amazing how advanced this kind of animation has progressed over the years, becoming increasingly more capable of capturing an actor’s full performance in a digital character, and Andy Serkis has taken full advantage of that.  Caesar really commands every moment he’s on screen, and Serkis deserves all the credit in the world for finding the humanity in the character and bringing it out through all the layers of performance.  The animation team should also be commended for picking up all the little gestures and subtlety in Serkis’ performance, because it all helps to make Caesar feel absolutely real.  I’m glad that the Apes franchise has served as a great platform for Andy Serkis to expand his talents as a performer, and indeed here he is the film’s primary star.  The same care with the performance capture also extends to the other cast members playing apes as well.  I particularly like the way that each ape interacts with one another, with body language playing an integral role in the establishing character.  I also like how speech is used sparingly between the different apes, making it’s usage feel all the more powerful when it happens.  Serkis (who also provides Caesar’s voice) came up with an interesting way for the apes to speak that feels natural and unlike anything we’ve seen in the series before.  It may come as unusual to see digital apes replace the costumed ones that the series was known for in the past, but when the end result works as well as these do, it’s hard to argue.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said with the human cast.  Indeed, one of the things that Rise of the Planet of the Apes did better than this film was to build up it’s human cast of characters; which is understandable considering they were much more important to the plot.  In that movie, we had James Franco’s scientist motivated by his drive to cure the Alzheimer’s disease in his dying father (played by John Lithgow) as well as his conflicted dilemma when he grows too attached to lab monkey Caesar, whom he helped raised; both of which drove his character development in the movie.  In this film, the human characters are more or less just defined by their purpose in the plot and nothing more.  None of them are really unlikable, though; there’s just nothing to define them.  Jason Clarke does the best that he can, but in the end, his character is just forgettable in comparison to Caesar.  Gary Oldman gets even shorter shrift in the movie, reduced to little more than an extended cameo.  I felt that it was a waste of an actor of his talent, and I wished they had used him more.  His character’s motivations also don’t make much sense in the movie; with him starting off as a reasonable leader in the beginning, then becoming an almost zealous antagonist by film’s end.  It’s a whiplash in character motivations that I wish had been better explained.  Now while the apes’ story-line is effectively drawn throughout the 130 minute run-time, it’s the human characters that suffer.  This may be a rare case where I think an even longer cut may have helped a movie, just so that we can better understand the human characters, much like how Rise was able to.  There was some of that there in the film, like when Oldman’s character reacts to seeing pictures of his long dead family for the first time in 10 years in a beautifully acted scene, but it was too few and far between.  The movie just needed to have a little more balance, and that’s all.

But, other than it’s under-drawn human characters, the remainder of the movie is exceptionally well crafted, if not particularly groundbreaking.  Indeed, the movie stays true to formula, but it’s done so effectively that you don’t mind it so much.  The pacing of the movie is excellent, never feeling bloated or rushed at all, and it does lead up to a very satisfying conclusion.  Again, the apes are definitely the film’s highlight, and the attention given to establishing their society really makes this movie feel unique.  I commend the production design team for making the post-apocalyptic setting feel natural and not at all overdone.  There’s an interesting contrast in seeing the organic and thriving Ape village juxtaposed with the decaying human world in this movie, and it establishes perfectly how the story is going to play out without ever stating the obvious.  I also loved the musical score by Oscar-winning composer Michael Giachinno (Star Trek, Up), because it pays homage to the late Jerry Goldsmith’s iconic themes from the original film’s score, without ever copying it directly.  It also helps to make this film feel right at home with the other movies, especially in helping to drive the mood of the scenes.  The cinematography also gives this movie a nice epic feel, even when working with a narrower frame (this is the first film in the entire series shot in the 1.85:1 aspect ratio, whereas all other entries were in the scope 2.40:1 format).  It’s an interesting creative choice made by director Matt Reeves, who makes the film feel both intimate and grandiose in a well-balanced way.  The movie takes some creative risks, but they pay off and work to the film’s advantage, and honestly, that’s what a Planet of the Apes movie should do.  In that respect, it’s staying true to it’s legacy.

As far as summer movies go, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes is a film that is well worth your time and money.  Is it a perfect film?  Not exactly.  It’s flawed in some of it’s character development and plotting, but not in a way that hurts the overall film.  I certainly recommend seeing the movie just to take in the absolutely masterful work that Andy Serkis has done as the ape Caesar.  If anything, I think it probably stands as the best acting work that this series has ever seen; better even than heavyweights like Charlton Heston and Roddy McDowall.  He’s truly become the best at what he does, and this movie gives us a great showcase of what he’s capable of doing.  The rest of the film is also worth checking out, especially for all the well choreographed and shot action set-pieces.  Honestly, if your only other option at the movie theaters was to watch Transformers 4, you have no excuse not to watch this movie over that piece of junk.  It does what a great action movie should do which is to keep you engaged and on the edge of your seat and it does what a great sequel should always do and that’s to build upon what’s come before.  It really is amazing that nearly 50 years have passed since the first Planet of the Apes, and we’re now seeing the franchise not only alive, but thriving.  Not only that, but the Apes series is also staying true to the intellectual spirit of the originals, and is still delivering thought provoking movies all these years later.  Let’s hope that Apes continues to stay true to it’s source material, and not resort to dumbing itself down to reach a broader audience.  At least for now, it doesn’t need to.  And again, it’s amazing that you can get quality and thought-provoking entertainment from a movie about a world run by “damn dirty apes.”

Rating: 8/10

 

Counter-Programming – The Simple Pleasures of Art House Cinema

art house cinema

When we go to the movies, we above all are looking to be entertained, and it is usually expected of Hollywood to deliver on that front.   However, even with millions of dollars invested and hundreds of man hours spent in production, there’s still a good chance that whatever Hollywood puts out from week to week will still fall flat.  You could probably chalk that up to the homogeneous nature of the business, where studios try to copy one another’s success and few chances are taken.  How many loud and vacuous action films are we presented with every summer?  Eventually, the movie-going public grows tired of the same old thing and wants to look for something new on the big screen.  This has led to a special niche market in cinema called the Art House scene.  An art house cinema is usually a small venue, sometimes made up of only one or two screening rooms, that presents films  made outside of the studio system, and/or are usually made on a smaller budget.  Commonly, an art house cinema is the only possible place in your local community that screens international, foreign release.s  Also, if you are an up-and-coming filmmaker, an arts cinema might be where all your hard work will finally receive it’s first viewing.  I believe what makes art cinemas special most of all is the fact that they provide a welcome alternative to the multi-screen cineplex experience.  While it may be quieter and more classy, it’s still no less of a place to be entertained.  Art House Cinemas gives us the ability to discover and enjoy something new, as well as to serve as a welcome communal ground for both cinephiles and casual viewers alike; bringing the idea of cinema alive in ways that the big guys can’t.

Art House Cinema has been around for a while, but it didn’t become a common thing until the later half of the last century.  The studio system more or less kept all theatrical presentations under their strict control up until the 1950’s.  Up until that time, all movie theaters were contracted to release only whatever the studios were making. In addition, back in those days, movie-going experiences were more of a casual experience, with people coming and going as they pleased, not caring if they’ve seen the program in it’s entirety.  But, with the dissolving of the old studio system in the 50’s and 60’s, local cinemas were freed up to showcase whatever they wanted.  Most often they would still showcase a studio film, but if the demand was there, a community cinema could show something out of the ordinary.  Usually this would be an internationally acclaimed film from a foreign land, like the works of Japanese filmmaker Akira Kurosawa or Swedish director Ingmar Bergman.  But also at this time was the rise of the independent film.  Independent cinema became a great way to tap into the changing cultural landscape that was happening in America and spread it across to multiple markets.  While most Middle America cinemas stuck with the same old studio releases, many local theaters in big cities and college towns across the country started to specialize their programming around audiences wanting to see these new, progressive films.  Thus, did we see the beginning of specialty, art house theaters.  Some presented films that you could instantly classify as art, while others were clearly geared towards exploitation.  Despite whatever class of audience these theaters were catering to, there’s no doubt that it was a change that would never go away.

There was, however, a time where art house cinema did see a decline.  In the 1970’s, Hollywood began to embrace independent filmmakers and brought them more into the mainstream.  No longer were the likes of Francis Ford Coppola and Martin Scorsese working outside of the system; in these years, they became the system.  Cinema as a whole changed dramatically during this time, and the line between independent film-making and studio film-making became increasingly blurred.  With the arrival of George Lucas and Steven Spielberg in the late 70’s and early 80’s, we began to see the rise of the blockbuster, with the phenomenal premieres of Jaws (1975) and Star Wars (1977).   This era again changed the way that films were presented, with the beginnings of the multiplex business.  Now, it was commonplace for one venue to present multiple movies at the same time, sometimes on 10 screens or more, depending on the demographics of where you lived.  Unfortunately, with the arrival of the multiplex, we saw a rise in movies made within the system and a diminishing of the independent film market.  Exploitation films all but vanished during this time and foreign releases began to become much more of a niche market; becoming increasingly harder to find in smaller communities.  Multiplexs would certainly dominate the film-going experience in the years to come, and the convenience of their availability would keep Hollywood secure in their ability to reach audiences all across America.  But, the art house was not blotted out completely, and it would come back in a big way.

In the late 80’s and early 90’s, independent film-making made a comeback, as cinematic tools and knowledge became more accessible in the years since the last independent boom.   New voices from the likes of Richard Linklater, Gus Van Sant, Kevin Smith, and Quentin Tarantino rose out of this movement, and even though their popularity has earned them spots in the mainstream, they still maintain their independent spirit to this day.  Also in this time period did we see the rise of the festival circuit, which started largely with Robert Redford’s Sundance Festival; a showcase primarily meant to highlight independent filmmakers.  What is great about the independent film festival circuit in America is that it’s almost entirely hosted by these art cinemas across the country.  Sure, Cannes and Toronto have hosted film fests long before Sundance, but those showcases haven’t tapped into the art house experience in the same way.  In many ways, you do need that intimate atmosphere of an arts cinema in order to really appreciate an unique, independent art film.  Sundance brought that to the attention of Hollywood, and in the years since, the studios have actually invested in the art house cinema market by creating their own independent off-shoots, like Universal’s Focus Features, or Paramount’s Classics, or Fox Searchlight, or Warner Independent.  Not only are film festivals and art house premieres a great place to show off something unique, but they are also great places to try out a potential awards winner.  In fact, many of the recent Best Picture winners at the Oscars have come from the Art House market, like 2011’s The Artist.  It’s one of the reasons why Arts Cinema has matured to the point of being a permanent fixture in the cinematic community.

So what makes going to an arts cinema so different from attending a multiplex, since there seems to be so much more cooperation between the two?  For one thing, Art House cinemas not only presents us the audience with unique, outside-the-norm films, but it also goes out of it’s way to preserve some of the old fashioned cinematic experiences as well.  Indeed, most art house theaters are actually remodeled from the old movie houses of yesteryear.   Long before multiplexes started to become the standard, films were primarily showcased in large and often ornate auditoriums, much like theaters built for stage productions.   In the years that followed the arrival of multiplexes, many of these old “movie houses” fell into disrepair and/or were re-purposed into something else; forgotten and lost to time.  But thanks to the rise of the art house scene, many of these old movie houses were spared and given new life.  Mainly with the help of independent investors and a dedicated community of movie fans, you can find many of these places preserved and maintained as a unique cinematic experience.  Because of this, art cinemas have managed to present a look at the future of cinema, while still honoring the past.  In this sense, Art Cinema takes on a whole new meaning, as the theaters themselves could be classified as works of art.  And the fact that these old-fashioned structures are used to showcase some films that could generally be seen as button-pushing is also a subversive treat.  It’s interesting to think that you may be watching something as disturbing as the new Lars von Trier film in the same place where your grandparents had watched Shirley Temple sing and dance long ago.  And for many cinephiles that is indeed one of the many pleasures of the experience.

However, art cinema is not just limited to preserving an old-fashioned cinematic treasure.  Indeed, if you have the money and the passion to create, you can turn anything into an arts cinema.  This is something that’s been true in college towns across America for years, where arts cinema has always been alive.  College students benefit largely from having a community that honors intellectual curiosity, so their demand for independent cinema has enabled film distributors to cater to this audience.  And if there is no infrastructure in place to placate this group of cinephiles, no doubt some bright entrepreneur will find a way.  That’s why in many college towns across America you will find art cinemas built into re-purposed buildings that were never meant for movies before.  These include old office space, restaurants, warehouses, and even schools.  In my hometown of Eugene, Oregon, the local arts cinema is actually built out of a defunct Episcopalian church, complete with the arched ceiling still intact.  Seeing a movie in one of these place also adds to the whole cinematic experience, given the uniqueness of the surroundings.  But, it’s not just unique places like a re-purposed church where you’ll find art cinemas thriving in towns across America.  The rise of the cineplex also led to an inevitable decline, which led to the closure of many cineplex theaters across the country.  Again, independent investors stepped in and some of these old multiplexes now specialize in art house films.  That’s become the case in Los Angeles, where I live currently, as independent theater owners like the Laemmle company have brought art films to old, defunct multiplexes.   Overall, arts cinema has become an avenue for any entrepreneurial movie fan to try out new things and make cinematic experiences unique for anyone looking to find it.

Also, art house cinema has become a perfect place to present more than just movies.  It has also become the place for communal activities centered around the movie industry.   Usually, an art house cinema is where filmmakers and movie-goers can interact, either through one on one interactions or through a moderated Q&A’s.  Film festivals commonly present these interactions, but sometimes a special appearance can be made as part of lecture within a college seminar, or a premiere screening.  If these experiences can be found in your local arts cinema, than it is a one-of-a-kind experience well worth taking.  Here in LA, there is a special program called American Cinematheque, which presents special screenings in old Hollywood movie houses complete with in-depth analyses by film-makers and film scholars alike, all with the purpose of educating the public about the importance of cinema.  It’s a worthwhile, year-long program that I recommend that people check out, and if there are similar programs held in your local community, all the better.  But unique communal experiences in an art house theater aren’t just limited to education.  Sometimes it can be a party too.  The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) has become one of the biggest cult films of all time and that’s largely due to the fact that it’s been in continuous release for almost 40 years, being a staple of the art house circuit and also an interactive experience for it’s audience.  Not only do audiences watch the movie, they participate in the action on screen, singing along and even reenacting the moments in the film as it’s happening; and this unique experience has been endorsed and promoted by the art house scene for years.  It’s also the only place where you’ll be able to find it.  Once again, one of the many unique pleasures of an art house cinema experience.

But why do we love Art Cinema so much today, even more than the tent-pole releases that come out of Hollywood?  I think that it’s because they offer a much needed alternative.  Variety is what keeps the industry alive, and indeed, when awards season comes around, it’s the small independent market that is put into the spotlight.  Even still, Art Cinema still maintains a small slice of the whole Hollywood pie, but it’s one that nowadays is central to the whole piece.  If anything has been lost in the shuffle, it’s that niche markets catering to very specific audiences have been lost.  Exploitation films have become a thing of the past, and noble attempts to try to recapture that experience, like Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriquez’s Grindhouse (2007) still come up short.  Also, with more interactions by major studios in independent film-making, are we truly seeing movies that are as groundbreaking as they used to be?  Whatever the case, an Art House cinematic experience is still a great alternative to the same old multiplex junk, and more often than not, you’ll still watch something out-of-the-ordinary there.  What I love best are the little discoveries; like a movie that you never thought much of before, but after seeing it in an Art House Cinema, it ends up changing your life.  I’ve certainly had my fair number of experiences with these surprising gems over the years, like 2008’s In Brudges or 2011’s Drive.  In many cases, I could only have found these special discoveries if for no other reason than I just wanted to watch them on a whim, and that’s that’s the kind of specialty that Art Cinemas offer.  I don’t believe I would be the same kind of film buff that I am now had I not had a local Art House theater in my community.  So, if you’re not interested in yet another dumb Transformers movie, I recommend that you search out an Arts Cinema in your area and find something more interesting to watch.  That life-changing film could very well be in an Art House theater near you.

 

Transformers: Age of Extinction – Review

Transformers4

Michael Bay is a difficult filmmaker to explain. His films are notable for being loud, bombastic, and sometimes very aggressively crass.  What is even more peculiar is the fact that his film career has been a very successful one, even with all the criticism his films have received.  He’s just been surprisingly good at making a lot of money.  And does he deserve it all?  While I can’t say that I particularly like his style of film making, I can’t deny that the man does have some talent behind the camera.  In fact, you could say that Mr. Bay has a style all his own, and that’s something that’s hard to come by in an industry as homogenous as Hollywood.  The only problem is that he has seemed to have wasted that same talent on what could be usually referred to as trash.   I don’t know if he chooses the films he makes through artistic motives or economic ones, because most of his recent work makes me think that he just doesn’t care what he does.  He’s shamelessly cashing in and relishing it at the same time.   His filmography has turned into the cinematic equivalent of fast food, and himself being it’s Ronald McDonald.  But even though Bay’s films are nothing but excuses for the director to indulge his cinematic excesses, every now and then he has managed to churn out something  special.   I for one really enjoy one of his earliest action thrillers called The Rock (1996), and his surprisingly smart 2005 thriller The Island.   Unfotunately, if there are films that do not fit into that quality category, it would be his series of Transformers films.

When the first Transformers was released back in 2007, it became a surprise hit and launched what would eventually be one of the biggest moneymaking franchises in movie history.  Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean that the films are any good.  Based off of the popular toy line and 1980’s animated series of the same name, Transformers was basically a dumb but entertaining movie that was certainly geared towards being a crowd-pleaser.  And honestly, to bring a story of giant, transforming robots to the big screen proved to be a perfect match for someone of Michael Bay’s talents. The storyline of the first film may not have retained the charming cheese of the earlier animated series, but it did deliver in the visuals, delivering some really impressive CGI effects along the way.  Unfortunately, it seemed like Michael Bay’s ego took over in the follow-ups in the series, and the resulting films were an absolute mess.  The second film was rightly derided for its lack of story and for it’s indulgences into sex appeal (particularly when it came to female lead Megan Fox) and racial stereo-typing.   The third film tried to make up for the faults of the second, and the result was a movie that just felt like a bland retread of the first two.   This slow devolution of the Transformers series represents a strong example of a franchise becoming the victim of its own success, and it’s a decline that really only seems to affect those of us who wanted to see more out of this franchise.  Fans of the original series don’t even seem to recognize their beloved characters anymore, because Bay’s films have become something else entirely.  Casual fans, however, seem to still be eating this stuff up, which is beyond me.

Now, after two critically derided films, we get the fourth installment of the series; Transformers: Age of Extinction.  To Michael Bay’s credit, he has chosen this opportunity to shake things up a bit, possibly in order to bring some new focus into the series.  Gone is former male lead Shia LaBeouf, who himself had become something of a joke in the series, along with pretty much every other recurring cast member.  This is a good thing, in a way, because it puts more focus on the characters who should be the main characters, that being the Transformers themselves. Unfortunately, the new movie still puts way too much focus on it’s less interesting human cast.  Thankfully, the balance between the two is much less of a problem.   Overall, Age of Extinction is a step up from it’s predecessors, but not much of one. It works best as a reboot than as a continuation of the overall story, although the movie keeps reminding you of the previous movies at different points, so it makes the attempt at a reset pointless.   And though it may have changed things up, it didn’t necessarily make the series any better; only a little less offensive.  We are still a long way from making Transformers anything more than just a dumb action franchise.

So, how does this film build upon it’s predecessors?  In the years following the events of the previous movie, both races of the Transformers (Autobots and Decepticons) have been hunted down and exterminated by humans in a genocidal revenge mission conducted by the CIA, led by their director, played by Kelsey Grammer, as a response to the carnage caused by the wars between the bots.   All remaining Transformers have gone into hiding, hoping that salvation will come their way.  Meanwhile in Texas, a barnyard inventor named Cade Yeager (Mark Wahlberg) comes across a rundown truck that he believes to be a hidden Transformer.  When he awakens the dormant Autobot, he soon learns that he’s no ordinary Transformer, but Optimus Prime (voiced by Peter Cullen) the Autobot leader.   Optimus helps Cade and his family escape the pursuing CIA task force, and rendezvous with his remaining crew, including the ever helpful Bumblebee.  Unfortunately for them, they soon learn that they are being hunted down by more than just the CIA.   A demented Transformer bounty hunter, named Lockdown (voiced by Mark Ryan) is also on their trail.   Working together, Cade and Optimus become more aware of the stakes they are faced with, especially when they learn of the destructive force that Grammer’s agent character is after, and the means to which Lockdown will go to claim his trophies.   What follows is a globe trotting adventure that takes the characters from the American heartland all the way to the cityscapes of China.

There isn’t much to the story as you can already tell.  It’s just a series of events strung together for the purpose of bringing us from one action set piece to another.   And there in lies the primary problem with this movie.  Like the other films before it, there’s no real drama.  The movie never gives us any real character depth and instead spends most of its time showcasing just how awesome it’s action scenes are.  When that’s all your movie amounts to, it feels really hollow as a result.  And given that this film runs at a very bloated 165 minutes, the action scenes become very tiresome after a while.  Also,  without the necessary character depth needed, we grow less interested in rooting for our main heroes, because there is little in them that we find interesting or redeeming.  I think, in this case, that’s more of the fault of the writer, Ehren Kruger, than Michael Bay’s.  He actually holds up his end by making the film look good, but that means little when the final script lacks anything worthwhile.   It’s been the fundamental flaw of the series since day one, and unfortunately this new film has only made baby steps in trying to improve it.

If there’s something that does work in the movie’s favor, it’s that it doesn’t give into some of the series more obnoxious pitfalls from the past.  Getting rid of Shia LaBeouf was a good move, as his character was never deserving of a central place in one movie, let alone three.  The character of Sam Whitwhicky, played by LaBeouf, is one of cinemas most insufferable douchebags, and the fact that more screen time was devoted to him than a more deserving character like Optimus Prime was a real insult to the legacy of the original series.  At least this time around,  Bay has given Optimus more of the spotlight to work with, and something resembling a character arc.  Also, a lot of the obnoxious comic relief is missing this time around, which is another benefit to this movie. There’s no annoying parent characters eating pot brownies; no Stepin Fetchit level racist stereotype Transformers; and no moments where we see the Transformers either defecating or letting their robot balls hang out.   That being said, the movie doesn’t really add much to this story either.  It’s sad to think that the most offensive elements of the series has also been what has defined it.  Take all that away, and the result is just another generic action flick.  What I would’ve liked to have seen is more of the Transformers universe explored in this movie; maybe even a film set entirely in another world other than our own.  But, then again, that approach probably would’ve alienated it from the general audiences that produced the big grosses for them in the past.  In that case, playing it safe may have been a poor decision on Michael Bay’s part.

Beyond the story, the remainder of the film is generally a mixed bag. Some of the film surprisingly works, but the rest is pretty much what is expected of the series.  One thing that I did like in this movie, surprisingly, was the lead actor.  Mark Wahlberg is a huge improvement over Shia, and he does make the most of a character that, again, is poorly written.  Wahlberg kind of has the same gift as Nicolas Cage, where he can be entertaining and have a presence on screen, even when the movie and character itself is terrible.  Another thing that I liked in this film was the collection of villains.  Kelsey Grammer, of all people, actually brings a lot of menace to the film with his performance; very far removed from his days on Frasier.  Lockdown is also a very effective villain here; far more intimidating than any other Transformer villain in the past.  And part of the reason why the villainous characters work in this movie is because they are restrained in their characterizations.   It’s a prime example where the movie benefits from a more subtle approach. Also, there are welcome additions to the Transformers team (voiced by the likes of John Goodman and Ken Watanabe) and they actually contribute to the story, rather than work as distractions.  Unfortunately, the human characters, apart from Wahlberg, are just as generic as ever.  The romantic couple (played by newcomers Nicolas Peltz and Jack Reynor) are particularly useless in this movie.  It’s putting the human story ahead of the Transformer’s one that makes this film feel like a chore.  Either Michael Bay is too stubborn to commit to a fully alien storyline, or he’s bound to a formula that he can’t escape from.  In any case, it derails any chance this film has at making any change for the good in this series.

So overall, regardless of all the hard work that has been done to change course in the series, the results are still just the same.  The best thing that I can say about the movie is that it at least tries to do things a little more subtly than the more excessive films in the series.  It’s not obscene or crude, but it’s not interesting either.   It’s the film that probably best represents the fact that this franchise is stretching itself thin, especially at almost 3 hours in length.   Will audiences go for it?  Probably.  It doesn’t do anything that will make its base group of fans suddenly reject it. It may even win a few people over with it’s more low key approach. As for me, I’ve never been a Transformer fan before, and this movie did nothing to change that.  At the same time, I do appreciate the fact that Michael Bay finally recognized that something needed to change in this series, and even if he made a half-assed attempt to change course, it was still aimed in the right direction.   I only wish he had committed more fully and make a true Transformers film.   We do still get ladies in short shorts and brief uses of gay and racial stereotypes, but to a smaller degree, so I guess that’s some kind of effort on his part.  And like many other mega-hit franchises, the movie does leave room for a sequel, so I’m sure Michael Bay will be returning to the world of the Transformers again for the fifth time.   Honestly, I wish Mr. Bay would consider handing the franchise over to others and get back to films that fit his style better; movies like The Rock.   For now, unfortunately, Transformers: Age of Extinction is another film that is less than meets the eye.

Rating:  5/10

 

Collecting Criterion – The 39 Steps (1935)

39 Steps

While the Criterion Collection is renowned for bringing to light obscure and forgotten cinematic works from across the world, they are also responsible for preserving some of the lesser known works of the great masters.  Legendary filmmakers like Stanley Kubrick and John  Ford have become a part of the Criterion library, with deluxe editions of some of their earlier films like Spine # 516  Stagecoach (1939) and #538 Paths of Glory (1957).  While some of these may not be as obscure as other titles in the Collection, Criterion nevertheless honors these directors by giving worthy notice to a few of these films, showing just how important they are to the growth of cinema in general.  In recent years, Criterion has also been looking for even more prestigious films to include in it’s library, including some of the most beloved movies of all time.  Among their titles today are some Oscar-winners like Laurence Olivier’s 1948 Best Picture winner Hamlet (Spine #82) and Elia Kazan’s 1954 winner On the Waterfront (#647).   Not only does the inclusion of these beloved masterpieces give a special acknowledgement to the filmmakers within the Collection, but it also shows that Criterion celebrates the Golden Era of Hollywood just as much as they do the art house scene.  And one particular Hollywood master has been long celebrated as part of the Criterion Collection, all the way back to even the early years of the label.  That director of course is the “Master of Suspense;” Alfred Hitchcock.

Hitchcock is widely considered to be one of Hollywood’s greatest filmmakers, if not the greatest.  No other director was more consistent in Hollywood, while at the same time breaking new ground with every production.  Most of his films are legendary; Psycho (1960), North by Northwest (1959), Rear Window (1954), and The Birds (1963) just to name a few.   In fact, the British Film Institute, for the first time ever, named a Hitchcock film as the “greatest movie ever made,” that being 1958’s Vertigo; it took the honor away from Citizen Kane (1941), which held that spot for over 40 years.   While these popular movies are kept in the public eye by the studios that made them, Criterion has also contributed greatly to showcasing the works of Alfred Hitchcock.  At one point, the Criterion Collection had seven Hitchcock films in their library.  These included the movies made during Hitchcock’s first few years in Hollywood; 1940’s Oscar-winner Rebecca (#135), 1945’s Spellbound (#136) and 1946’s Notorious (#137).  These Criterion editions have unfortunately gone out of print, and have returned back to their original studios for new editions, but Criterion still maintains the licence to a few other Hitchcock titles.  These are mainly the ones that were released during the earliest part of his career, back when he was still cutting his teeth in the British film industry.  It’s interesting looking back at this period in Hitchcock’s career, as we see the beginning of some of the things that would become synonymous with Hitchcock’s later work.   And if there is one Criterion film that best illustrates the beginning of the Hitchcockian style, it would be 1935’s The 39 Steps (Spine #56).

The 39 Steps is probably the best known of Hitchcock’s British films, though it doesn’t quite receive the same recognition that his later flicks do.  But, even so, many of the director’s trademark elements are there, and in many ways 39 Steps helped to set the standard for all of those that followed.  In particular, it began the “wrong man” scenario that would become a popular theme in most of Hitchcock’s later films.  The story follows a young Canadian traveler Richard Hannay (played by Robert Donat) who finds himself wrongly accused of murder when an undercover spy (Luccie Mannheim) is found dead in his flat.  In her possession is a map to Scotland, which he uses to track down the people responsible for the murder, while at the same time avoiding getting caught himself.   Upon investigating the clues along the way, he learns that the head of the spy ring responsible for killing the girl is missing the top joint of one of his fingers, and he also discovers something known only as “the 39 steps”.  He escapes capture on the Scottish Moors, after being recognized by a fellow traveler named Pamela (Madeline Carroll) who believes he’s the murderer.  He soon finds refuge in the home of a respectable Scottish scholar, Professor Jordan (Godfrey Tearle) who is willing to hear Richard’s side of the story.  Richard makes his plea and feels safe in the Professor’s estate; that is until he discovers that the Professor has a missing joint on one of his fingers.  Richard, having learned the identity of the true murderer, soon finds himself on the run again, only this time determined to learn the secret of the “39 Steps” before Professor Jordan can stop him, and learn what it has to do with a vaudeville performer named “Mr. Memory.”

The 39 Steps (1935) is small in scale compared to some of Hitchcock’s other great works, but all of the pieces are still there.  In fact, this film helped to introduce many of Hitchcock’s most familiar trademarks.  Apart from the obvious “wrong man” scenario, which would become a favorite theme in Hitchcock’s later works like North by Northwest, this film also introduced the idea of the MacGuffin to the cinematic language.  A MacGuffin is a cinematic term, coined by Hitchcock himself, that refers to the thing that the main characters are searching for, but in the end turns out to be something inconsequential to the audience.  In other words, it’s the thing that drives the motivations of the plot; making the directive more important than the actual reward.   Hitchcock’s uses of a MacGuffin in a movie are pretty noteworthy and here it’s pretty much the focus of the entire film.  In the end, we learn what the 39 Steps is during the final scene, but that piece of information really amounts to very little.  What we remember is the heart-pounding search to find it, and that’s what Hitchcock is known best for.  He was the “Master of Suspense” for a reason, and this film clearly shows how he refined his cinematic voice around this trademark.  You can also see in this movie how the director was finding his style as well.  The film features stunning camera work, which helps to elevate the suspenseful nature of the movie very well.  The scenes in Scotland in particular have a nice gloomy feel to them.  But, it’s the use of close-ups and quick-editing where we see the Hitchcock of later years start to develop, and it’s clear to see how this same filmmaker would redefine Hollywood movie-making in the years to come.

Does the film hold up against it’s more famous descendants?  It’s hard to put this film in the same category as some of Hitchcock’s later classics.  After all, Hitchcock’s prime was really in the 1950’s, when he pretty much could do no wrong.  The Hitchcock of the 1930’s was still trying to figure things out and probably didn’t have the same kind of control over his vision that he soon would have.  At the same time, The 39 Steps is still a very effective movie, and still holds up as a great example of early suspenseful story-telling.  Robert Donat makes a fine leading man in the film, playing the determined and resourceful Hannay with a lot of charm.  He embodies that “every man” sensibility that Hitchcock always loved to put into his main characters, and he gives the character a believable intelligence throughout.  The writing also retains much of that classic British wit that Hitchcock’s films are known for, especially the earlier ones.  It’s clever, without being too complicated, and it treats it’s audience intelligently, never resorting to spelling things out for us.  Hitchcock’s macabre sense of humor is also present in the movie, albeit more subdued here than in many of his later films.  Also, the black-and-white cinematography is gorgeous, showing Hitchcock’s keen eye for composition.  If the film has a major flaw, it’s the fact that it feels small.  The film is relatively short at 86 minutes, compared to Hitchcock’s later films which ran on average around 2 hours.  While it does fill it’s run-time with plenty of story, it feels like more could have been built upon the mystery.  Instead, the majority of the movie gives us the typical man on the run scenario, which gets worn out by the 1 hour mark.  Thankfully, the film finishes strong with a very memorable climax.  It’s clear that Hitchcock was still trying to figure out the “wrong man” narrative here, and this film feels like a good test run for his later movies like North by Northwest.

Criterion, of course, treats all of it’s new titles with special care, and Hitchcock’s 39 Steps is no different.  Given that the movie is very old, it needed to be given a special restoration in order to bring out the best possible image quality.   The 39 Steps was selected as a Criterion title very early on, and was released on DVD way back in the late 90’s.  The image quality of the DVD release was passable, but nowhere near what the film should actually look like.  So, when Criterion prepared the film for a Blu-ray re-release in 2012, they gave the movie a proper high-definition restoration.  The results of Criterion’s efforts are astounding.  The film, naturally, hasn’t looked this good in years.  While still maintaining the grainy look of a film it’s age, the restoration has helped to boost the levels of sharpness and detail to the image.  Color contrast is always something to take into consideration when restoring a black-and-white film, and here the  gray levels contrasted with the blacks and whites feels a lot more natural and authentic.  The sound quality has also been cleaned up, and is now free of the pops and buzzes that usually plague an older soundtrack.   Is it the best possible picture and sound that we’ve seen from Criterion.  Unfortunately, the original film elements were unavailable to Criterion, due to the original negative being lost to time.  But, Criterion did the absolute best that they could here, and the film has thankfully been cleaned up and preserved digitally for all of us to enjoy.  Given that it’s Hitchcock, the standards are pretty high, and Criterion does the legacy proud here.

The Criterion edition also features a good sampling of bonus features, many of which were carried over from the original DVD.  First off, there is an Audio Commentary by Hitchcock scholar Marian Keane.  Ms. Keane’s commentary is more of a lecture style analysis of the movie’s larger themes and the film’s lasting legacy.   This isn’t the kind of commentary track that you listen to for a breakdown of how and why the film got made, like so many director’s commentaries do.  This is more like the kind of analysis that you would hear in a college level film course, which is not bad if that’s something that interests you.  Marian Keane’s analysis is informative and well-researched.  Just be warned that it’s also very scholarly as well, and in no way substitutes for a behind-the-scenes look.   A documentary included on the disc does however go into the making of the film a little bit more.  Also carried over from the DVD is Hitchcock: The Early Years, which details the director’s early films made in his native England, including this one.  A complete radio dramatization is also present on this edition, created in 1937 for the Lux Radio Theatre show and starring Ida Lupino and Robert Montgomery in the roles of the main characters.   New features added exclusively for the blu-ray edition include footage from a 1966 interview with Hitchcock done for British television, where he talks a little about the making of this film.  Also, another Hitchcock scholar, Leonard Leff, recorded a visual essay, which goes into further detail of the film’s production.  Rounding out the special features is a gallery of original production design art, as well as an excerpt from another interview of Hitchcock, conducted by another filmmaker, Francois Truffaut.   All in all, a very nice set of features that makes this set feel very well-rounded.

If you consider yourself a huge fan of Alfred Hitchcock, chances are you already are familiar with The 39 Steps and it’s place within the master’s entire filmography.  While it may not be as exciting as North by Northwest, or as chilling as Psycho, or as emotional as Vertigo, it nevertheless represents a nice stepping stone towards some of those later masterpieces.  I certainly look at it as a prime example of Hitchcock’s earliest work, because you can see all the elements there that would come to define his entire career.  It’s movies like The 39 Steps  that really illustrate perfectly the maturing of a filmmaker, and even though it doesn’t reach the heights that we know now that Hitchcock was capable of, it still stands on it’s own as a fine piece of entertainment.  I certainly recommend it for anyone who just wants to see a good old fashioned spy movie.  There were many others like it at the time, but few feel as effortless in it’s suspense as The 39 Steps does.  There are other Criterion editions of films made during Hitchcock’s early years, and they are worth checking out too, like 1938’s The Lady Vanishes (Spine #3) and 1940’s Foreign Correspondant (#696), which was the last film Hitchcock made before his move over to American cinema.  The 39 Steps unfortunately has been overlooked over the years as a defining film in Hitchcock’s career, so this Criterion edition is a welcomed spotlight for a movie that is deserving of it.  It’s always great to see where the beginnings of a great filmmakers style came from, and The 39 Steps is the kind of movie that shows that off perfectly.  Hitchcock holds an honored place in the Criterion Collection, and hopefully that spotlight will continue to extend to many more of the director’s great early films.

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The Good Old West – Why Modern Revisionist Westerns are Failing

true grit

If there has been a literary and cinematic contribution to modern society that can be classified as distinctively American, it would be the Western.   Just as Shakespeare is to “merry Olde” England and anime art has been to Japan, the Western has become America’s most impactful addition to world culture, without ever loosing it’s national identity.  And like most other international contributions to popular culture, it has evolved over time; though still maintaining it’s genre characteristics.  No matter the setting or the circumstance, a Western will always involve characters exploring an untamed frontier and will usually center around a protagonist who is the very definition of a rugged individualist; more often than not, a gun-totting cowboy.  While the American West was naturally the setting for these stories over the years, the thematic elements of the genre don’t necessarily need to be tied to it.  The amazing thing about American Westerns is how much of an impact they’ve had on other forms of cultural art over the years; sometimes in unexpected places.  Akira Kurosawa for one drew a lot of inspiration from American Westerns when he made his Samurai films like Seven Samurai (1954) and Yojimbo (1961), both of which were then reimagined by Hollywood, becoming The Magnificent Seven (1960) and A Fistful of Dollars (1964) respectively.   But as society began to change in the later part of the 20th Century, so did the genre, and there became a need to reexamine what the American West was really about.  Thus, we got the era of the Revisionist Western, which has defined much of the genre for the last several decades.  But, with the recent failures of movies like Cowboys vs. Aliens (2011) and The Lone Ranger (2013), as well as this year’s A Million Ways to Die in the West (2014), is it possible that this era of revision is coming to an end?

The Western has become popular the world over, but what is it exactly about the genre that we like.  I think that it’s the idea of the frontier that we find so appealing.  It puts into perspective how little an impact we have individually in the world, thereby raising the tension when that same world tests you.  Because of this, the Western hero would be defined by very out-sized personalities, and this is probably why so many of them are still admired today.  When Westerns became a staple of the rising market of Hollywood, the actors and filmmakers responsible for making them likewise became larger than life figures in modern culture.  John Wayne, Henry Fonda, Clint Eastwood, Lee Marvin, and Jimmy Stewart; these men became the faces of the American West to the culture at large and they still embody the ideal of the rugged individualist today.  Likewise, whenever someone wants to recreate the image of the American West in a painting, a photograph, or a film, they will usually follow the visual eye of John Ford, Howard Hawkes, or Sergio Leone.  Orson Welles once said that he found his visual inspirations for his iconic Citizen Kane (1941) by watching John  Ford’s Stagecoach (1939) over and over again.   Because of these men, we have a definitive idea of what a Western is, and what it can be.  But, even the great masters weren’t tied down by the confines of their own genre either.  Of course, the Western is something that can be reinterpreted many times over, and filmmakers like Ford and Hawkes used their movies to tackle a variety of issues in society, including racism (The Searchers), paternal abuse (Red River), and civil rights (Cheyenne Autumn).   But, Westerns would go through a whole new phase once people who grew up on them began to turn their own eyes on the genre.

The 1960’s marked the beginning of the counter-culture movement, which changed the outlook on all American culture in general.  The Western was reexamined during this time, and many new filmmakers saw the glorification of the American West in these films as a bad thing.  To many of them, the rugged individualist embodied by actors like John Wayne represented a view of America that was looking backwards and was impervious to change.  The plight of the American Indian became a popular theme in this time and many modern filmmakers wanted to highlight that untapped perspective in their movies.  One film in particular that explored this idea was Arthur Penn’s Little Big Man (1970), which starred Dustin Hoffman as a white man raised by an Indian tribe in the old West.  The film is a very interesting reversal of the conventions of the Western, where the native people are the main heroes, and the cowboys are the villains.  While the movie still focuses on a white protagonist, it nevertheless puts emphasis on the Native American people that few films had done up to that point, and it was a revision that was very welcomed in-deed  at the time.  If you haven’t seen it yet, do so.  It’s a very interesting and surprisingly funny movie at times, and it treats the Native American characters humanely, while at the same time making them flawed and complex as individuals.  What Little Big Man also represented was a shift in the genre that would go on to define the Western for many years to come.  Suddenly, revision became the popular form of telling a Western story, though if you look at each film individually, you can still see the inspirations of past masters at work in these films.

The most popular kind of revisionist Westerns at this time were also the bloodiest.  Sam Peckinpah took the Western to a whole other level of brutality when he created his classic The Wild Bunch (1969).  This film resonated with audiences because it seemed to reflect more accurately how the world really was.  In The Wild Bunch, there are no clear winners or losers.  There was no nobility in the rugged individual in this movie; everyone was a dirty, rotten scoundrel.  In this film, moral relativity defined who we were rooting for, since all the characters were flawed in some way.  And with a bloody shootout at the very end that puts all other shootouts to shame, we saw a reflection of the true brutality of violence in the old West.  The fact that this movie came out during the height of the Vietnam War was no accident.  Peckinpah wanted audiences to see how brutal gun-fighting is and show that the gun-ho attitude that the American soldier picked up on after watching the Westerns of the past was probably not the best thing to bring into battle.  Other negative aspects of the old West were also reexamined during these heyday years of the Revisionist Western, and that included the awful history of racism in the old West.  This was the focal point of Mel Brook’s classic Western comedy Blazing Saddles (1974).  Blazing Saddles manages to effectively breakdown the issue of racism in a Western by exploiting the Hell out of it.  No other film mocks the conventions of the Western more effectively than Saddles, and it is still one of the funniest movies ever made.  And while these movies attempt to break apart every traditional Western convention,  the still manage to hold up as an effective Western themselves, which shows just how resilient the genre is.

However, over time, even a revisionist view of the genre tends to lose steam after a while.  While this type of re-interpretation of the genre continued to define much of it’s output in the last few decades, even through the hands of one of it’s icons (Clint Eastwood and his Oscar-winning Unforgiven (1992)), there came a point where the Revisionist Western itself became commonplace.  I believe this started around the time Dances With Wolves (1990) came into theaters.  While Dances With Wolves was an enormously popular movie, and a winner of multiple Oscars, it has unfortunately lost some of it’s luster over time, mainly due to the fact that we’ve grown too accustomed to a movie of it’s type.  Kevin Costner’s film depicts the life of an American soldier sent out West to live among the Native American tribes of the Western plains.  The film, while still having it’s heart in the right place, today seems a little too heavy-handed in it’s messaging, and at times almost pandering to the Native American audience.  The noble white man character has unfortunately become one of the less effective elements of the Revisionist Western, and it’s mainly because it takes away from the voices of the actual native people themselves.  What started with Dances With Wolves has continued on through other films in the genre, and it’s made the Western more predictable and less exciting over the years.  I understand the inclination to show the plight of an oppressed people through the eyes of an outsider, but in the end, I only think the decision is made because Hollywood thinks that Middle American white audiences won’t accept a movie unless they see someone they can identify with in it, especially if they are also a bankable star.  But, more likely, a big problem with these movies is that they put message over story, and in the end, that’s something that will hurt a film, no matter what the genre.

For some time after Dances With Wolves and Unforgiven, the Western began to disappear from movie theaters.  This led to many filmmakers trying to revive the genre by trying to do different things.  This included mash-ups like Cowboys vs. Aliens, which put a sci-fi spin on the traditional Western aesthetic, as well as the mega-budget flops like Wild Wild West (1999) and The Lone Ranger (2013), both of which seemed to think that a lot of eye-candy would be enough to bring in audiences.  Instead, it only made more people weary of the genre.  What has surprisingly been the reason for these movies’ colossal failures has actually been audiences desires for authentic Westerns.  The traditional Western, even with all it’s flaws has become desirable again to many viewers.  This is reflected in the fact that the only Westerns that have been a success in recent memory are remakes of classic Westerns in the past.  This includes the Russell Crowe and Christian Bale headlined 3:10 to Yuma (2007), which was a remake of the Glenn Ford classic, as well as a remake of the John Wayne classic, 1969’s True Grit, made by the Coen Brothers in 2010.  Both films are traditionalist Westerns right down to their DNA, albeit with modern flourish.  But, what is surprising about these films is their incredible runs at the box office, both making well over $100 million domestic.  True Grit (2010) in fact is the highest grossing Coen Brother movie ever,  making more than all their previous movies combined.  Could this be the beginning of another reversal in the genre, or is it just a reflection of how well made these two remakes are?

I think that audiences indeed are beginning to re-embrace the traditional Western once again.  This is reflected again in the popularity of older Westerns, as well as the remakes that we see today.  John Ford’s The Searchers saw one of the biggest jumps ever in recognition by the  industry when AFI made an updated list of their Top 100 movies; moving from #96 to #12 in ten short years.  Other people are also claiming Western movies as among their favorites and even the most successful revisionist Westerns today are ones that still honor the traditions of the older classics.  I’m sure Quentin Tarantino’s true intention behind the making of Django Unchained (2012) was to make an exciting Western, and less so to do with it’s statement on slavery.  That’s something that all the great Westerns have done in the past; be entertaining.  When a movie becomes too concerned with rewriting the conventions of the genre (Wild Wild West), or tries to mock it without understanding what the punchline will be (Million Ways to Die in the West) it leaves audiences cold and more inclined to just return back to what they like in the first place.  As Mel Brooks has said before, “We mock the things we love,” which means that to make a good revisionist Western, you have to be a fan of it as well.  In many ways, deconstructing the Western genre is what has kept it alive all these years.  Even Revisionist takes are now considered defining representations of the genre, like Wild Bunch and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969).  Any revision that doesn’t respect the past is doomed to be forgotten, and unfortunately that’s what has defined most recent Westerns.  If anything, my hope is that the classics will endure and still give inspiration to aspiring filmmakers, so that the Westerns of the future will still keep the Spirit of the West alive.

Game Over – Why So Many Video Game Movies Fail

Super Mario Bros

Just as going to the cinemas has become a cherished pastime for many people over many generations, we are now seeing a whole new type of media beginning to take charge and become an even larger part of our everyday lives.  For forty years now, we’ve seen the rise of video games, from crude blocks of color on the TV to full blown blockbuster releases that even rival what’s coming out of Hollywood today.  It’s quite a eye-opener when you see the newest Grand Theft Auto title out-grossing every film released in the same year, but that’s what’s happening in our culture  today.  Of course, Hollywood has taken notice, and really they’ve been trying to figure out gaming culture since it’s very inception.   The only problem is that there is no easy way to translate a video game experience to the big screen.  When we watch a movie, we expect that the story will guide us to a conclusion, but when playing a video game, we’re the ones who guide the story.  Sure, there are narrative driven games, but many others are built around the randomness of our own choices, and that’s what makes them unique.  Now that game programming has become as sophisticated as it is, video games are starting to eclipse what film-making is capable of.   With this kind of popularity, it’s only natural that Hollywood would want to capitalize on it.  The only problem is that by doing so, they lose some of that unique experience that video games gives us.  Not surprisingly, most video game inspired movies have failed over the years and that is due to them either trying too hard to be like the original game, or trying too little, or being so removed from the original concept that it becomes something else entirely.

When looking at all the problems that video game movies have, it helps to see where things went wrong at the very beginning.  In the early years of video gaming, the titles that were coming out were very primitive.  It wasn’t until titles like Donkey Kong came into the market that you could see any semblance of narrative.  Naturally in these early years, Hollywood became more interested in the gaming culture than with the games themselves.  Back in those days, nobody thought that 3D graphics and online play would be a reality, so everything was more or less about getting the highest score.   The lack of foresight may have been a reason why Hollywood never jumped headlong into video game culture and as a result, they’ve seen game development become competitive with their own industry.  The 1980’s showcased some examples of this exploitation of the culture as we saw many films feature Arcades as popular hangouts.  One film in fact centered entirely on the Arcade subculture of the 80’s; 1989’s The Wizard, starring The Wonder Years’s Fred Savage.  The Wizard offers a interesting window into how the world perceived video games years ago, but it’s also firmly a product of it’s time as well, treating a video game contest no differently than any other over-coming the odds narrative back then; the game itself was irrelevant.  However, there was one film at the time that actually did explore the possibilities of the gaming world; Disney’s Tron (1982).  The film explored the idea that a video game could be fully interactive world inhabited by simulated people based on our own selves.  In other words, it’s depicting something like a MMO (massive multi-player online) game, resembling World of Warcraft, that we all know today.  Though limited by what it was capable of in it’s time, Tron has proved to be a very forward thinking film, and naturally something that groundbreaking ended up being a failure at the box-office.

When Hollywood began to take video games seriously is at the point when video games started to have characters and narratives that people gravitated towards.  The early 90’s brought us the early beginnings of video game franchises, with the likes of Super Mario Bros. and Sonic the Hedgehog being among the biggest names.  And while Hollywood was smart enough to jump on board and bring some of these popular characters to the big screen, they unfortunately didn’t know exactly how to do it.  When you look at the original Super Mario game, you can see how difficult it was to translate.  Basically it’s a red-suited man jumping into pipes and breaking blocks with his head; not much to draw from to make a 90-minute film.  When 1993’s Super Mario Bros. made it to the big screen, it was instantly slammed by both critics and fans of the game alike.  What ended up happening was that with no clear idea of how to adapt the Mario game accurately, the filmmakers just threw in every weird idea they could think of in the end, making the finished movie an incomprehensible mess.  Instead of the big-headed Goomba minions from the game, we get the large-body, small head Goomba guards who look more creepy than silly.  Not only that, but we also get actor Dennis Hopper looking all sorts of confused while playing King Koopa, as a sort of lizard-human hybrid.  The only thing the movie got right was the casting of Bob Hoskins as Mario, who does indeed look and act the part well.  But, what Super Mario Bros. represented most was a prime example of Hollywood not understanding what a video game was and how to make it work as a film.  This would be systemic of most the 90’s video game adaptations, and namely for most if not all adaptations thereafter.

The big problem with video game adaptations today is that it’s impossible to make something interactive feel the same in a non-interactive form.  For the most part, a video game translation ends up just feeling like a cut-scene that never ends.  For gamers, the narrative is there to move them from one level to the other, all with the goal of reaching the end and beating the game.  Of course, that doesn’t mean that the story is irrelevant.  In fact, most video games have very complex and involving story-lines, particularly those that have come out in the last decade or so.   The reason why video game movie narratives suffer is because of the limited run-time.  Movies are only allowed on average about two hours to tell their entire story, so if you try to take a video game story that takes 10 times that amount to unravel and condense it into a film narrative, you’re going to have to lose quite a bit in the process.  As a result, most video game adaptations lack character development and spend way too much time setting up it’s world.  A prime example of this would be Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within (2001).  The Final Fantasy series is heralded by both gamers and casual fans for both it’s colorful characters and it’s complex story-lines.  But the reason why these games are so complex is because they take many hours to complete; sometimes 50 hours or more.  If you take 50-plus hours of development and try to condense that same kind of complexity into a two-hour film, you’re going to get something that’s crushed tighter than bedrock.  That’s the fatal flaw of The Spirits Within, a film that’s so concerned with it’s world’s complexity (and being one of the first movies ever to utilize photo-realistic CG human characters), that it leaves everything else by the wayside, making the whole film feel very hollow, particularly with the characters.  While many of these films try to noblely translate beloved story-lines to the big screen, there’s just no possible way to contain it all.

Another problem is the fact that many video game movies try too hard to be just like the titles their trying to adapt.   This usually is evident in some of the film’s characterizations.  Video games can sometimes get away with generic and usually archetypal characters, because by playing the game, we are infusing ourselves into the story, so a blank-slate protagonists is usually a good thing.  When it comes to the movies, however, lack of character can pretty much sink a film.  This is especially painful when characters that people love in the games are translated so poorly by under-qualified actors.  The Mortal Kombat films in particular gives us the right look of the characters with no other depth beyond that.  That’s the unfortunate result we get from adapting something as simple as a fighting game.  There’s little character development to begin with, so if you take that directly to the big screen and do nothing to build upon that, you’re going to get very bland characters.   The same can be said for pretty much every other video game movie out there.  Also, another way that a video game adaptation can fail is by trying too hard is in capturing the look of the video game.  This is especially true of more recent video game movies.  With the advances in CGI over the years, simulated reality is becoming ever more convincing, and the lines between video game graphics and cinematic graphics is growing closer and closer.  Because of this, the limitations of film-making again come into play.  A video game lets the visuals unfold organically and lets the player examine it all at their own leisure.   A movie has to cut around and limit what the viewer sees.  That’s why video game movies that try to look so much like their predecessors, like 2005’s Doom and 2006’s Silent Hill suffer, because that interactive element is removed, making the viewer feel less involved.

Not that every video game adaptation has been a complete failure.  There have been exceptions over the years that have managed to make a dent at the box-office, even if it’s a minor accomplishment.  Paul W.S. Anderson’s Resident Evil series has been going strong for six films now; some of which people say are actually better than the more recent games in the wanning series.  Also succeeding is the Tomb Raider adaptations, both of which star Angelina Jolie as the popular archaeological adventurer, Lara Croft.   What I actually think is interesting about the film Lara Croft: Tomb Raider (2001) is that it represents how to do a video game movie right.  While no masterpiece, the film is nevertheless competently made; finding a way to make Lara Croft work as a character on the big screen in a stand-alone film.  The movie doesn’t try to recreate the video game experience (how could it, with those Playstaion 1 graphics?), it merely translates the character’s personality into a narrative that can be told cinematically.  It doesn’t try to put the cart before the horse like so many other video game movies do, and let’s the character be the star rather than the world she lives in.   Naturally, because of this, Lara Croft: Tomb Raider is one of the few films based off of a video that has been profitable.  Of course, it helps that the world it’s adapting is not particularly complex.  Sometimes a modest title is the best kind of game to adapt, which is probably why shoot-em-ups are popular adaptations today, like 2007’s Hitman  or a racing game turned movie like Need for Speed (2014).

Of course, sometimes the opposite comes true, when a filmmaker or studio takes something that can translate perfectly to the big screen and uses the completely wrong approach.  That was the case with the Disney produced Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time (2010).  Prince of Persia was already a very cinematically infused game before this movie came out, so Disney should’ve had an easy time making it translate onto film.  Unfortunately with a miscast lead (Jake Gyllenhaal), a un-focused director (Mike Newell), and an out-of-control production budget (est. $200 million), the movie failed on every level and sullied not just the reputation of it’s creators, but it also sullied the Prince of Persia brand overall.  No game in the series has been released since, and probably never will, at least until the memory of the movie has gone away and the demand for the game returns.   At the same time, there are also people out there who only adapt video games as a way of exploiting them.  Sometimes it’s as harmless as an up-and-comer who wants to showcase what they can do by taking a little known video game title and putting their own spin on it.  And then, you have someone like Uwe Boll, who’s whole career has been defined by cheap adaptations of video games like Bloodrayne (2006) and Alone in the Dark (2005).  The only reason he adapts video games, turns out, is because of a tax loophole in his native Germany that let’s him make more money off failed adaptations of licenced games.  So, not only is he getting rich off of bad movies, but he’s also trashing games that people have loved for many years, making it the worst kind of exploitation.  The wrong approach usually ends up being worse than a confused or bland adaptation, because in the end, it’s the original games that suffer and the legacy that they carry.

So, even with all the failure that have come in the past, will there ever be a video game movie that will actually become a huge hit.  I would like to see it happen, but it probably never will, because there are just too many fundamental differences in the way to keep it from ever happening.  For one thing, a movie can never capture the interactive experience that a video game presents.  And with more and more video games growing visually more complex, it’s clear that Hollywood filmmaking is starting to face some tough competition.  But, to the industry’s credit, they have found a way to embrace video game culture over the years, and make it a part of itself.  Many studios have their own software development departments and it’s very common to see tie-in video games released alongside major Hollywood releases.   Even still, Hollywood still hasn’t given up on trying to make a big-screen translation of a video game work.  Adaptations of Assassin’s Creed, World of Warcraft, and even Angry Birds are in the works, though I highly doubt any of these will feel exactly like the original games.  In reality, I think Hollywood is better off looking at what the games mean to us, rather than take a literal translation approach.  I strongly recommend films like Tron and Wreck-it Ralph (2012), both really fun movies that look at video games as a lived in world rather than as a form of diversion.  Also, I strongly recommend the documentary King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters (2008) which brilliantly presents the impact video games have on our culture.  One day, Hollywood will figure out the formula and hopefully deliver a great video game adaptation someday.  I can tell you this; I’ve been waiting my whole life for that Legend of Zelda movie, and that wait is still going strong.

 

Maleficent – Review

maleficent

Coming after a long string of other fairy tale adaptations in theaters, the new movie Maleficent brings us a retelling of the classic tale of Sleeping Beauty, only this time told from an angle that we haven’t seen yet.  As you can tell from the title, this version is less about the slumbering princess and instead is centered primarily on the one who cursed her in the first place; the dark fairy, Maleficent.  Naturally this fantasy film comes from the Walt Disney Company, who are taking their inspiration not only from the original fairy tale, but from their own 1959 animated classic as well. Celebrating it’s 55th anniversary this year, Walt Disney’s Sleeping Beauty (1959) is a film that has withstood the test of time and has become a favorite to many, including myself.  Sleeping Beauty actually holds a special place in my heart because it was one of the very first movies that I ever got to see in a movie theater.  It was during a 1985 re-release that I had my first experience with the tale and the 2 1/2 year old me was forever changed by it.  That movie, along with another Disney classic I saw that same year (1961’s 101 Dalmatians), probably are what helped propel me towards becoming a lifelong film buff, and because of this, I still hold the film in very high regard.  The same is probably true for many other people too across the globe.
Walt Disney created the original Sleeping Beauty at a transitional time for animation.  Walt Disney saw that tastes in styles were changing in the late 50’s, so he decided to take a whole new approach to Sleeping Beauty by giving it a very unique look.  Styled to look like medieval tapestry art, the movie was unlike anything the studio had ever made before and it still looks magnificent in all it’s 70 mm widescreen glory.  But,  it’s art style isn’t what has become the film’s biggest triumph over the years.  Instead, that honor goes to the creation of it’s villain, Maleficent.  Drawn by legendary animator Marc Davis and voice brilliantly by actress Eleanor Audley, Maleficent is an all time great antagonist; one by which all other Disney villains are now measured against.  In fact, her popularity has grown so much over the years that she has since become the unofficial antagonist of the entire Disney community.  You’re more likely to see her sparing with the likes of Mickey Mouse and friends today than with characters in her original film.  This is evidenced in other mediums by the company that she has also featured in, like the Kingdom Hearts video games and the Fantasmic nighttime shows at the Disney Parks.  Not to mention the numerous merchandise made available with her image on them.  Given a legacy like this, it’s not all that surprising that Disney would feature her prominently in their brand new live-action adaptation.  What is surprising, however, is that Disney would take their most popular villain and try to make her sympathetic.  Given how much she’s beloved by many people like me as someone we love to hate, it’s a risky revision to undertake, and one that does have to face some extra scrutiny from fans.
What is unique about this movie is that it looks at all of the events of the story from Maleficent’s perspective.  It begins with her childhood as a powerful yet innocent fairy living in a magical kingdom called the Moors.  Soon she meets a young human boy from the neighboring kingdom named Stefan, who becomes her closest companion as they grow older.  But when they become adults, they grow apart.  Maleficent (played as an adult by Angelina Jolie) soon finds her kingdom at war with the neighboring King, who grants his crown to anyone who can kill the winged Maleficent.  Stefan (played by Sharlto Copley) betrays his friend by cutting Maleficent’s giant wings off her back, leaving her both grounded and defenseless.  Stefan becomes the new king thereafter and Maleficent vows vengeance, which she soon enacts once Stefan and his Queen have a child.  At the presentation ceremony, Maleficent places a curse on the child, ensuring that she will be put into a death-like sleep once she turns 16.  The years pass and Princess Aurora (Elle Fanning) grows up far from Stefan’s care in the woods, raised by three fairies (played by Imelda Staunton, Lesley Manville, and Juno Temple).  Unbeknownst to the others though, Aurora is also being looked after by Maleficent herself, who surprisingly grows attached to the young girl and begins to regret the curse that she made out of anger.
So, as you can tell from this premise, the movie actually takes the angle of making Maleficent less of a villain and portrays her more as a hero.  Stefan on the other hand is cast as the villain of the story, with Aurora still caught in the middle.  This may be jarring to people who have grown up with the original movie, but it’s a reversal that is not without precedence.  The Broadway musical Wicked has become a popular retelling of the Wizard of Oz tale, centered around the maturity of the villainous Wicked Witch of the West.  In that retelling as well, the popular villain is treated more sympathetically, becoming something of a misunderstood hero, while the Wizard is cast as the cold-hearted villain.  It’s a reversal of roles that works perfectly in that story, but unfortunately works less so here.  I’m not saying that it can’t be done.  It’s just not given as much care as it was with Wicked.  Unfortunately, it also takes away a bit from what made Maleficent so memorable in the first place.  She’s really at her best when she’s at her worst; being an unruly source of terror that strikes fear into all.  The original animated classic did that perfectly and it’s mainly why she is remembered so well today.  In this version, the movie hits it’s high points when Maleficent is allowed to be menacing, especially in the presentation of Aurora scene, which is almost lifted directly from the original film, including some of the same dialogue.  That moment works very well and unfortunately it’s an aspect that is not carried throughout the entire film.
I have to say that the biggest problem with this movie is it’s inconsistency.  Tonally, it is all over the place, not knowing whether to be dark and brooding or fun and lighthearted.  Sometimes the shifts in tone are so abrupt, that it will be absolutely distracting.  I attribute this to the screenplay, written by Linda Woolverton, who does have a long legacy with the Disney company, having drafted scripts for both Beauty and the Beast (1991) and The Lion King (1994), as well as Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland (2010).  Unfortunately, her grasp on a story-line isn’t as refined as it was on her early work.  While not as needless complicated in plot as Wonderland was, Maleficent still feels incomplete, particularly when it comes to the characterizations.  Maleficent gets fully fleshed out in the film, but Aurora and most other characters do not.  I feel like another draft of the script could have worked some of these problems out, because there are some genuinely good ideas present there in the script.  Also problematic is the direction.  The film is helmed by first-time director Roger Stromberg, an Oscar-winning visual effects artist and production designer whose work we’ve seen in films like Avatar (2009), Alice in Wonderland (2010), and Oz, The Great and Powerful (2013).  Unfortunately, by giving direction over to a novice more comfortable with visual effects, you’re most likely to have a film that looks pretty, but feels hollow, and that’s unfortunately what happened here.  The inconsistency in tone is probably the result of Stromberg being unsure about what kind of movie he wants to make, and it shows.
But the movie isn’t un-salvageable.  What does hold up is some of the performances, particularly Angelina Jolie as the titular character.  Jolie’s involvement probably helped to give this film a boost during development and thankfully the potential in that casting is not wasted.  Thanks to some rather good make-up work by the great Rick Baker, Jolie is spot-on as the iconic character.  She matches the original look of the character perfectly and she plays the character well, clearly relishing the grandiose nature of the part.  She also makes the transitions between Maleficent’s darker and lighter sides feel more natural than they do in the script, which helps to keep the film from falling apart.  One other character that proved to be surprisingly effective is her companion  Diaval (played by actor Sam Riley).  In the original film, he was personified as a pet raven named Diablo, a character with very little complexity.  Here, he shifts forms between human and raven, and even into other creatures, depending on the needs of Maleficent.  What could have been a throwaway servant character actually turns into a thoroughly likable individual.  He works perfectly off Maleficent as her companion, bringing out some of the movies most genuinely humorous moments.  I give the movie a lot of credit for taking a minor character from the original film and reshaping him into a more involved personality that actually contributes something good to the overall story.  Honestly, I would have preferred more scenes with Diaval and Maleficent, since they are the only characters that had any sort of chemistry throughout the whole movie.
Unfortunately many of the other characters aren’t as well balanced as those two.  King Stefan is a mixed bag as a character.  Sharlto Copley does give a solid performance, especially in the later scenes where he begins to descend further into madness.  Unfortunately, he gets the shorter end of the stick when it comes to the role reversal of the story line.  Taking Maleficent’s place as the villain, King Stefan feels a little out of his element.  He doesn’t have the same kind of menace that Maleficent had in the original film, and he never comes across as truly terrifying.  It’s a missed opportunity with the character and it unfortunately reduces the impact that the final showdown at the end could have had.  Elle Fanning’s Aurora is likewise a one-dimensional character, but to the movie’s defense, she was pretty bland in the original film as well.  Most problematic though are the depictions of the Three Good Fairies.  In this film, they are very obnoxious and incompetent characters, who seem more preoccupied with squabbling with each other than looking after the princess.  At times, these characters almost made the movie insufferable to sit through, particularly when you think about how well portrayed they were in the original movie.  The fairies were actually the heroes of the original film, and I for one love their characterizations from that version; especially Merryweather.  God I wish Merryweather was in this movie.  I don’t understand why the filmmakers chose to go that route with the characters, but I can tell you that it did the movie a big disservice.
So, did the movie honor the legacy of the original, or did it insult it?  I do have to say that at certain points, this movie did come very close to losing me.  Only the strength of Angelina’s magnetic performance helped to pull this movie off of the ledge.  I do think that there is a great movie in there wanting to come out, but is hampered by a lackluster script and uneven direction.  The performances help to make this film bearable, and I do think Angelina Jolie could not have been more perfectly cast.  The film unfortunately doesn’t break the recent trend of tired, CGI heavy fairy tale adaptations for the young adult crowd that have failed to live up to their potential.  Following in the wake of Burton’s Alice in Wonderland and 2012’s two failed attempts at the story of Snow White (Mirror, Mirror  and Snow White and the Huntsman), Maleficent likewise fails and instead becomes a jumbled mess trying to be too many things at once.  Albeit, this version does do some things right and probably is the best movie out of this trend that we’ve seen, but that’s not saying much.  Hopefully, Disney gets the tone right when they release their live action adaptation of Cinderella next Spring, directed by Kenneth Branagh and starring Cate Blanchett as the wicked stepmother.  As far as this movie goes, I’d rather stick with the original that has been a part of my life since childhood.  At least in that version, the “mistress of all evil” is allowed to be as such.  I greatly prefer the dark side of the character, though I don’t discredit this movie for trying something different.  It’s not a terrible take on the character, but I feel like it could have been done better.
Rating: 6/10

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