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Thursday, 01 June 2006 00:00 |
Story
For the first time, the tale is centered firmly on the Batman himself, or in this case Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale), and not on one of his over-the-top enemies. Now, the non-comics audiences can witness--and understand--the sequence of events that led an orphaned billionaire to dress up like a bat and scare the bejeezus out of bad guys. Expanding The Batman's world beyond the claustrophobic confines of Gotham, the film opens on a tormented and rudderless Wayne abroad in Asia, recruited by hypnotic Henri Ducard (Liam Neeson) to join the world-redefining forces of the enigmatic Ra's al Ghul (Ken Watanabe) by way of some serious ninja schooling. All the while Bruce flashes back on his parents' violent murder and his growing sense of impotence against injustice, despite the attentions of childhood sweetie and future D.A. Rachel Dawes (Katie Holmes). Unwilling to mete out Ra's extreme form of "justice," Wayne returns to Gotham City to launch his own unique campaign to clean up the city's corrupt and crime-plagued streets, with three key allies: his faithful family valet Alfred Pennyworth (Michael Caine); Gotham's only clean cop, Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman); and tech-savvy Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman), who provides the Batman's wonderful toys from Wayne Enterprises' experimental arsenal. Now trying on two different masks--Batman's crime-hating fury for the back alleys and a foppish playboy façade for the public--Wayne soon finds himself pitted against an inventive doomsday plot instigated by psychologist Dr. Jonathan Crane, better known as the sinister Scarecrow (Cillian Murphy), who uses fear as a weapon almost as formidably as The Batman himself. We're finally given a noble post-modern Batman who, with compelling motivation, will not resort to lethal force.
Acting
Bale leads the all-star cast, making the best movie Batman since Michael Keaton's excellently eccentric 1989 performance. Whereas Keaton's slight, intensely brilliant Wayne seemed to don the Batsuit to gain an edge of intimidation, Bale's Batman is simply a dark emblem expressing the rage and fury roiling underneath the billionaire's surface. His is a ferocious Dark Knight indeed. He's also effective portraying two other sides of the character's persona: the silly, randy public face of Bruce Wayne and the tortured real man underneath both guises. Of the potent supporting cast, Caine imbues Alfred with the appropriate fatherly warmth and wit while adding a fresh element of authority and capability as well; Neeson's multidimensional Ducard leaves one guessing if he's a hero, antihero, villain or all of the above; and Freeman is clearly having a ball as Batman's own "Q." Holmes is comely, capable and utterly superfluous; Tom Wilkinson tastefully chews the scenery as crime boss Carmine Falcone; and Murphy (once a close contender for the role of Batman himself) is tantalizingly creepy and villainous--the film could have used more of his off-kilter charisma. The only minor speed bump is Oldman's Gordon. His acting is always on the mark, but the character, so well-developed in the seminal comic book tale Batman: Year One, is never utilized to its fullest potential.
Direction
Along the way, every element of the Batman's back story is fleshed out in almost excruciating detail. Here's how he found the Batcave. Here's where he got the Batmobile. Here's why he has little pockets on his utility belt. Yadda, yadda, yadda. But some clever plot twists from director Christopher Nolan and screenwriter/professional comic book scribe David S. Goyer fuel the story's forward momentum. Nolan and Goyer work hard to inventively crib together a mélange of origin elements and plot points from influential comic book storytellers including original Batman creator Bob Kane, unsung early writer Bill Finger, Sin City's Frank Miller, David Mazzuccelli, Dennis O'Neil, Neal Adams and others (even bits and pieces from a comic story penned by Ducard's creator Sam Hamm, also the screenwriter behind Burton and Keaton's 1989 film). All these patches are effectively sewn into a clever quilt, creating a cohesive original tale told with entertaining gusto. However, the film does lack a certain knockout visual flair that defines the best comics--great, imposing "money shots" of the fearsome Batman are few and far between--and the action sequences are a tad too choppy, close-up and over-edited. Plus, for a film about a dude dressed as a winged mammal, it takes itself so darn seriously. The movie would definitely have benefited from a jolt of loopy outlandishness akin to Burton's undeniably quirky vision. And--despite the reigning notion that the previous films overdid the villains--a crazier, more charismatic bad guy would have done wonders to liven up the stately proceedings. There's a reason the audience burst into wild applause in the screening I saw at a third-act allusion to one of Batman's more famous adversaries. Let's hope for a little more inspired lunacy in the sequel.
Bottom Line
Far more than just "Batman, Again?," Batman Begins is indeed a fresh start for the film franchise, capturing the best aspects of the Dark Knight's dark beginnings and--in the film's greatest strength--the noblest aspects of his caped crusade against crime. Like the Batmobile itself, the superhero icon has been retooled and supercharged, roaring to ferocious new life for a new generation. |
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Thursday, 01 June 2006 00:00 |
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Story
This happy-feel-good-but-let's-learn-a-lesson tale centers on teenager Holly Hamilton (Hilary Duff), who just wants to settle down. She's tired of moving every time her single mom Jean (Heather Locklear) has another personal meltdown involving yet another second-rate guy. And can you blame her? Even though mom professes her undying love and devotion to her daughters (there's a little sis, too), dragging them all over the country just 'cause she's too depressed to stay in the same place after her boyfriend dumps her doesn't necessarily earn her the Mother of the Year award. But when the family of transients lands in Brooklyn, Holly decides she's going to distract her mother from making another mistake by finding her the "perfect" man. Borrowing her friend's charming and handsome Uncle Ben (Christopher Noth) as a role model, Holly concocts an imaginary secret admirer who romances Jean via emails and instant messaging, thus boosting her shaky self-esteem. But soon Holly finds herself resorting to increasingly desperate measures to keep the ruse alive because a) mom is really happy but, of course, wants to meet Mr. Perfect and b) well, mom wants to meet Mr. Perfect. So just how is Holly going to get herself out of this, keep her mother's trust and realize Ben really is the perfect man? Oh, the drama!
Acting
Hilary Duff seems to be the main perpetrator of this entirely overcooked genre (The Lizzie McGuire Movie, Cinderella Story), although her colleagues Anne Hathaway (The Princess Diaries, Amanda Bynes (What a Girl Wants), the Olsen twins (New York Minute) and, yes, even Lindsay Lohan are all guilty of it as well. The young actress-singer still commands the attention of most tweens, and she continues to be a very likable screen teen. But her breathy, squeaky delivery of such syrupy material as The Perfect Man is starting be more gag-inducing than entertaining. Duff needs to rip her shirt off, stick a needle in her arm, and do SOMETHING dark, for Pete's sakes, even if she may not have the acting chops to pull it off. Here's an idea: maybe Hathaway, Duff and Lohan should play crack whores in some indie. Now that would be something. Not sure what Heather Locklear and Christopher Noth are doing in this movie, though. Sure, Locklear has distanced herself from years as one of TV's queen *****es, and Noth has left his Sex and the City days forever, but for both of them to stoop as low as The Perfect Man? Like we are supposed to believe a woman who looks like her and a guy as sexy as him can't find someone to love them. Please. Doesn't she know Mr. Big's waiting for her?
Direction
Director Mark Rosman is clearly a Hilary Duff fan, having guided her through other such sticky sweet fluff as Cinderella Story and episodes of Duff's former Disney Channel show The Lizzie McGuire Show. He doesn't do anything glaringly wrong with The Perfect Man either. There are all the right beats and poignant moments. The familial bonding. The romantic interests. The pop-song filled soundtrack. The youthful characters sporting the latest and coolest fashions. But just a few niggling questions entered my brain as I watched the movie. First of all, how does this woman find all these jobs and apartments all over the country on such short notice? Does she have a network of people on the lookout for her? And for someone who moves around a lot, they sure do have a lot of cool furniture. Of course, I should have been all wrapped up in the story, how Jean realizes what an idiot she's been, teaching her daughters the wrong kind of lessons. But instead I'm thinking about what a pain in the ass it is to move.
Bottom Line
Your tween daughter and her friends will probably chirp over Hilary Duff's oh-so-precious and Perfect moments. But you'll most likely want to throw up and call it a night after swallowing this big ball of cotton candy. |
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Thursday, 01 June 2006 00:00 |
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The imagery in REVENGE OF THE SITH -- The turning of Anakin, the annihilation of the Jedi, the expulsion of Yoda, Obi-Wan vs Anakin, Palpatine revealed, the birth of the twins, Alderran, the adoption of Luke, what became of the droids… These are all near religious iconography in the minds of children raised in the ways of the Force. I’ve spent a quarter of a century discussing these things, speculating on what it’d look like, how it’d play out… I’ve seen it in countless dreams, but never with my eyes open. Never George’s dream of what it was. Till now.
As I sat at the Regal Metropolitan Theater in South Austin watching the film – I couldn’t help but get caught up in it. Dad was there with me, we’ve spent countless years talking STAR WARS – through STAR WARS – I learnt of the source material George was smashing and grabbing from – B serials, Pulp sci-fantasy adventure romances, Asian cinema – all of it. Before STAR WARS – I was well on my way – after STAR WARS the road was poured. I would be a geek for the rest of my life.
That would mean, I’d be primed to openly weep as Yoda crawled through that damn crawlspace to escape, during the whole of Obi-Wan and Anakin’s fight and the death of Luke & Leia’s mother. It is a very powerful thing to see the dreams one has spent a quarter of a century pondering. It might be cheese ball of me, but dammit – this is exactly what I wanted out of this last STAR WARS film… closure.
I’m having a really hard time writing about this one. It’s just so damn big. So full of literally everything that I wanted to see in all the prequels – but crammed all into this one. This really is the big Michael Corleone episode of STAR WARS… It’s where all the traps are sprung, all the cards are laid on the table, where everybody dies, all is lost and evil rules the galaxy.
That’s what makes the film so damn hard to talk about, at least off a first viewing. Let me see if I can explain this.
We all know how dark this film is intended to be. We all know how incredibly dire things will turn out in this film. However, the first 40 minutes are so light… as to be completely disconcerting. There’s just a feeling that THEY shouldn’t be having fun. Don’t they know this is the last smiles they’ll share? That when Obi Wan goes on that last mission and Anakin wishes him well… that that’s the last time they would be friends… Don’t they know that? WE DO, why can’t they see what’s coming? WAKE UP!
The film makes you powerless to change things. It’s like sitting still for a *****ing tragedy right from the get go, but unlike TITANIC, you don’t have it all spelt out yet. Unless you’ve read all the spoilers – and I don’t really know what you spoiler-lovers will think. Just because for me… I knew, basically, what was going to happen. The broad strokes. I’ve gone out of my way to ignore as many spoilers as possible – which is a near impossible thing to do when you’re being emailed by everyone on Earth 300 images a day, 40 reviews a day now and were sent all the books, comics, score, everything from Publicity firms… shit… I bought that Talking Yoda toy – and next thing I know the little Green Bastard is trying to tell me the story of REVENGE OF THE SITH. It’s so hard to be pure on this – there’s just so much information out there. Everywhere.
The most shocking or surprising emotion I felt during this film experience is that… I don’t want Anakin to become Darth Vader. I just… Despite 27 years to the contrary, as I sat in that theater watching the last act of a good Jedi that turned evil… I just found myself wanting to scream at him to stop. I wanted desperately to send him on that mission with Obi Wan. I wanted Mace Windu to put his hand on Anakin’s shoulder and say, “Come on Kid, Let’s finish this!” and march off as brother Jedi to kill the *****ing Emperor. I wanted Anakin to let go of his hate, fear, ambition, jealousy and self-centered egotism and just be the knight in shining armor… FOR THE GOOD GUYS!
You can tell… Anakin so wants to do what is right. He even does the right things, it’s just everyone around him doesn’t treat him as an equal… save for Palpatine. That when push comes to shove, the only *****ing rat bastard in the galaxy that is going to call him son, tell him ‘fairy tales’ and really listen to his problems enough to find out what is REALLY troubling him is the bad guy!
Why?
Because the whole damn galaxy is at war, because to everyone else, Anakin’s existential crisis doesn’t amount to a hill of beans, they’ve got bigger fish to fry. They’ve got to Protect Wookies and the mushroom people and Hellraiser’s home planet and kill lots of robots and General Grievous and police the *****ing universe… and… and… well, their damn domestic policy sucks!
The Bad Guy has his priorities right. He’s controlling the robots, the clones and to a large extent the Jedi… yet still manages to multi-task enough to listen to Anakin and help him deal with his premonitions of personal tragedy. He'll take the time, to ignore an amazing science fiction zero G Esther Williams number, to tell young Skywalker a SITH LEGEND. A story, an anecdote. And he tells it, like a father would to a son. And the story is directly related to the problem Anakin is facing, it gives him hope, direction and the first glimmer of a happy ending to his concern. He doesn’t tell Anakin bullshit like… learn to not give a shit, detachment is the key to inner peace… What sort of bullshit is that? Ignore your problems, betray those you love, watch everyone you care about die – and just be happy cuz they’re food for the force, which you manipulate… and everyone’s death will just make you more powerful. WHAT SORT OF *****ING JEDI WISDOM IS THAT SHIT YODA??? THAT'S NOT REALLY HELPFUL YOU NEGATIVE GREEN TURD!
My god. The Jedi really are a bunch of goody two shoe clueless *****s. They’re so concerned with fixing the galaxy’s problems that they don’t have time for their own… and due to their unrealistic and inhumane rules about not loving or caring about anything other than the almighty “force” they created an air of fear for Skywalker. How could he level with them? How could he share with them? By the time Obi Wan finds out Anakin and Padme have kids on the way… it’s too late. That ship has sailed. Everyone is so busy being good little soldiers, that they just are not communicating.
Obi Wan never takes Anakin out for drinks and just levels with him. Sits him down and explains fascist totalitarianism. He doesn’t explain why sacrificing the most marginal freedoms to create a false sense of security enables those taking on those additional powers to create a greater evil than that which they fear. Hell, nobody really explains to Anakin why Democracy is better than Absolute Rule. Instead it is all this, “Search your feelings” bullshit. Turn to your ancient religion. This is why ultimately Luke Skywalker kicks ass. Because he doesn’t have all this dogmatic bullshit. Because he’s got a buddy like Han Solo that’d be willing to bust ass across the galaxy to save his ass. Somebody that has his back. FRIENDS! Because when the Sith hits the fan, it’s the love of your friends that’ll help you push through and kick ass. Because Luke believes in twin sunsets, the good guys and saving his dad.
What does Anakin have? Who cares about Anakin? Well Obi Wan, but he doesn’t know how to show it. Yoda? He’s too busy being disturbed about the cosmic meaning of shit to even form a no bullshit non fortune cookie sentence. Mace Windu? He’s got his head so far up his ass it ain’t funny. Padme? She’s more concerned with her hair, her image, everybody’s standing and well being. And then Anakin himself? He’s told he’s the chosen one, the key that will make the galaxy unified. Yet, the only one empowering him to do that is the *****ing Emperor.
I love how together Palpatine is. He’s just one of the greatest bad guys in the history of bad guys. He absolutely must be Karl Rove’s hero. Look at this. Palpatine has engineered so many things. The creation of the Droid armies, the creation of the Clone armies, his various Sith apprentices, Fall guys for Fall guys… all with the direct purpose of spreading his enemy so thin, that no matter their powers, when he calls ORDER 66… they’ll never see it coming. It’s like inviting your friends over for an all night session of game play and spreading cyanide on the *****ing pizza. They’re all gonna eat it, cuz… dude… it’s what you do when you play games. The Jedi are fighting their war, doing Jedi shit. Kill the droids, tons of them. This shit is fun for them. They eat it up. This is their Frosted Flakes with Bananas. They finally got their Holy Crusade, woo hoo, a sense of purpose. They never think twice about all them *****ing Boba Fetts watching their backs.
It’s so beautifully laid out. It’s *****ing immaculate. This is literally how you rule the universe. It is to be admired. And learnt from. Cuz as Padme says, “This is how Democracy ends, with Thunderous Applause.” Exactly. Distractions, a clear and concise innocent front and cutthroat evil behind the scenes.
REVENGE OF THE SITH is a masterpiece. The final piece of the puzzle Lucas first presented me at age 6. 27 years later, the Jigsaw is complete and damn if it isn't just damn near the most tragically cool thing I’ve ever seen put to film. We won’t see another like this. This is it.
We’ll see enormous sci-fantasy told, with more focus and even grander visions in our lifetime… but we’ll never care as much about a story like this one. For our generation, Star Wars is our mythology. The big story we lived to see told the first time. For those of you that were kids in lines in 1977 through to the coming weeks… I have to say, it has been an absolute *****ing honor to do this with y’all.
We all know where we each were at the opening of all these films. In two weeks… this is your last story. I’ll never see a new Star Wars movie with my father again. I’ll see many more movies – but this is the last Star Wars, I’ll ever see for the first time with my dad. I’ve seen all 6 with him. All on either the first day – or before. It’s the mythology he’s grown old with and helped me grow up with. This one counts, this one is beautiful. This is the last one.
I can’t possibly express how profoundly odd that is to type. How weird it makes me feel. I went out after the film – I went to find a toy to sit on my desk to look at while I typed this. I went through aisle after aisle of Star Wars stuff, and I couldn’t pick something out. I think the one I most thought was cool – was this Lego play set of Anakin and Obi Wan on Mustafa. You pressed down the Lego character’s head and the light sabers lit up. Gosh that’s cool. I’ll probably buy it for my nephew… Instead I came home, played the score to REVENGE OF THE SITH and wrote this.
Remember – this isn’t a Star Wars movie to cheer for, to erupt into applause and call cool. If you really love STAR WARS – this one is heart ache. Not only is it the end of a nearly 30 year journey for us… It really is the story of how things got so bad, that the good guys had to be a rebellion, where the Jedi had to hide and how evil ruled the galaxy. |
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Thursday, 01 June 2006 00:00 |
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The first 5 hours of the film ( real running time: 40 minutes) is excruciatingly awful shit unworthy of even the slightest raised eyebrow. Filled mostly with oh so cute pokes at the Paris Hilton video that's online everywhere. Cuz - let's face it folks that's why we know her name. And if she's as cold a ***** as that video revealed - how on Earth do you expect her to even pretend or emote anything in reality. There's nothing going on in her character's head. And after the 5th or 6th Paris Hilton video in-joke - walking out of the theater became a viable and urgent calling.
Literally - the first part of this movie is that bad.
Then they arrive at the House of Wax - and the film becomes mildly diverting. There's a neat twist on the whole Wax Museum horror genre. And once things begin to be revealed the film becomes a fun piece of shit. And the last act in the House of Wax in particular is why I'll eventually buy this film second hand on DVD. The last part in that House feels like it was storyboarded and conceived by Robert Zemeckis (one of the producers) as it is visually inventive, exciting and fun. COMPLETELY out of place with the rest of the movie.
Also within the genre of Wax Horror films - this does the best job of showing you the actual tools of the trade. Having said that it really is a subpar film in keeping with the rest of the DARK CASTLE production label.
There's a couple of great gags, but overall you don't really care for anybody, the music is mainly tedious and the acting is universally forgetable. If, like me, you love the Wax Horror genre - check it out, cuz the ending should be enough to sate your wax horror dreams. But, it's like running up a mountain to dive into a dumpster of shit to get the tall blue suited Snaggle-toothed action figure. Best to wait for DVD - where you can just skip right to the cool parts - though - that end sequence on the big screen is pretty cool. You just are not invested in the characters, so it's just a really cool visual effects piece with no substance whatsoever.
That's pretty much all I can say about the film. When the sets burned down, the studio should have taken the hint. |
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Thursday, 01 June 2006 00:00 |
Story
With college graduation now behind her, Maggie Peyton (Lindsay Lohan), a third-generation member of a famous NASCAR family, looks forward to her new life in New York working for ESPN. But when Maggie's widower father (Michael Keaton) takes her to the junkyard to pick out a car, fate is about to lead her in another direction. Because it's there that she meets Herbie, a sad little Volkswagen Bug, waiting to become scrap metal. With a little persuasion from the bug himself, Maggie decides to take the old, beat up #53 home and quickly realizes this little car has a mind of his own. Herbie takes her on a wild ride, culminating in beating the reigning NASCAR champ, Trip Murphy (Matt Dillon), in an impromptu street race. Humiliated, Trip will do anything to keep his position at the top and demands a rematch. But Maggie knows she needs to fix Herbie up first and asks her old friend, car mechanic Kevin (Justin Long), for help. Even though her father has forbidden her to race, Maggie has got it in her blood, and in order to save her family's name and business, she's going to team up with the unstoppable Herbie to stake her claim. You can take the girl out of the race, but you can't take the race out of the girl.
Acting
Herbie: Fully Loaded's stellar cast puts the high-octane Herbie in gear. Media-hounded Lohan leaves the paparazzi far behind and gives another spunky performance, proving she's got the acting chops to stick it out. But it may be time for you to let go of the Mouse House ears, Lindsay. Move on to bigger, better and Meaner things. Veterans Keaton and Dillon also add credence to Herbie. Dillon's role as the "villain" suits him well, as he displays a delightful comedic side, while Keaton does a nice job as the overprotective dad who just doesn't want to lose his daughter like he lost his wife. The sweet-faced Justin Long (Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story) is Maggie's inspiration and wears his heart on his sleeve. And the usually hilarious Breckin Meyer has a small part as Maggie's brother who knows he isn't the one who should be out there on the track. It would have been nice to see more of him, though.
Direction
Director Angela Robinson (D.E.B.S.) makes the movie what it is: A high-speed no-brainer comedy adventure. Starting from the opening title sequence, Robinson uses split screens and graphics to enhance the visuals and trace Herbie's historic progression from his Love Bug years to the present. The biggest marvel, however, is Herbie himself. Back in the 1960s, when the original was being made, filmmakers had no idea what model of vehicle they wanted to use in a story about a lifelike car. They filled a Disney backlot with models as diverse as Chevys and Toyotas. But when they asked employees to pick out the car they liked best, the majority of them pet the only VW Bug on the lot-and Herbie the Love Bug was born. For his 2005 makeover, Robinson uses the same classic 1963 Volkswagen design and creates Herbie's realistic movements by using giant robotic puppets, not just CGI. She also had to gather a whole fleet of VW bugs, including the original Love Bug himself. The end result does justice to the classic original and instantly revives the franchise. As Trip Murphy says, "There is nothing ordinary about this Bug." Herbie: Fully Loaded also has a rockin' soundtrack, with old standards from groups such as The Beach Boys, Steppenwolf and Loverboy.
Bottom Line
Herbie: Fully Loaded brings the lovable VW Bug roaring into the 21st century. Kids will love it, while their parents will remember what it was like watching those fun-filled live action Disney films of their childhood. |
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Thursday, 01 June 2006 00:00 |
Story
Some time has passed since the dead rose up to feast on human flesh, and what's left of mankind is making the best of it. The people have cordoned themselves off from the zombies--or "stenches," as they are so lovingly referred to--behind the walls of a fortified city, where they try to maintain an illusion of life as it once was. Supplies and food are still needed, so a hardened group of mercenaries--headed by Riley (Simon Baker) and Cholo (John Leguizamo)--run retrieval missions into the vast wasteland, using little tricks of the trade to keep the zombies at bay. Back in the city, however, things aren't so hunky dory. The wealthy and powerful, lead by the slimy Kaufman (Dennis Hopper), dwell in a swanky and exclusive high rise and rule over the working class, while the disenfranchised peeps on the streets stew over their lot in life. But they aren't prepared for what happens next. Seems the army of the dead are evolving, learning to organize and communicate with one another. And they don't take too kindly to getting shot in the head. The only thing the humans have going for them is the fact the zombies still don't move very fast--but that's not saying much.
Acting
It's tough for an actor to shine in a horror flick in which the gore and special effects make-up are pretty much the main attraction--but the Land of the Dead cast do their best. You've got Baker (The Ring Two), as the kindhearted hero; character actor Robert Joy, as Baker's mentally challenged sidekick, but who's also a wicked sharpshooter; the lovely up-and-comer Asia Argento, as a tough-as-nails street chick willing to help out; Leguizamo, as the wisecracking mercenary with a major chip on his shoulder and firepower to back it up. And then there's Dennis Hopper. He's playing it pretty straight this time around as the evil and greedy rich guy who doesn't really consider himself the villain, considering he was the one who built the fortified city. But a little of the weird Hopper pops through every once in awhile. Of course, we've also got the hordes of evolving dead walkers, lead by a particularly fearsome zombie. With a bloodcurdling zombie battle cry, this badass teaches his comrades to take up arms, beat down walls and walk under water. Resourceful fellow.
Direction
You can thank George Romero for giving us flesh-eating zombies. If not for his 1968 cult classic Night of the Living Dead, we wouldn't have 28 Days Later or Evil Dead--and we'd be a much duller place without them. Now, 20 years after he made the last Dead movie, Day of the Dead, Romero is ready to hurl body parts at us again. Maybe, after he saw how well they remade his Dawn of the Dead last year, he felt he could do it even better. Not quite. Sure, Romero has definitely grown up and improved his writing. Land of the Dead does a nice job moving things along, showing how the survivors have adapted to living with their "neighbors" but never really learning much from the experience. Romero also has brought a certain pathos to the zombie. They move around, as if in a daze, also trying to maintain a semblance of what they used to be--human. And frankly, they are tired of being labeled mindless idiots who do nothing but wander about. Dammit. If you prick them, do they not bleed? But with all the gratuitous violence, and hardly any of the Dawn remake's humor or irony, Land of the Dead doesn't really distinguish itself from any of Romero's other gore-filled zombie flicks.
Bottom Line
While George A. Romero and zombie fans alike should get a kick out it, Land of the Dead is just a giant excuse to see the walking dead pigging out on human flesh--in all its blood-dripping, bone-crunching, brain-slurping fashion. Yuck. |
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Thursday, 01 June 2006 00:00 |
Good for him. But just when you brace yourself for a rollicking ride across a rugged road to brainlessness, "The Longest Yard" becomes a prison drama.
Sandler is pushed, kicked, pummelled and thrashed by the prison authorities. So is this going to be one of those torture-till-you-howl thrillers like the Sylvester Stallone starrer "Lock Up", or that classic on incarcerated indignity, "Midnight Express"?
The indignity suffered in watching Sandler do his wry comic act is something altogether different from what we saw in other prison movies. Let's not forget, director Peter Segal has made two very seriously funny films with Sandler in the lead.
In "Anger Management", Segal had cast Sandler as a guy managing... his anger! In "50 First Dates", Sandler was busy managing cute Drew Barrymore as she suffered a series of memory lapses.
In "The Longest Yard", Sandler just about manages to pass muster. The nervous energy that flows out of the self-consciously macho plot is more sweaty than productive. The characters are laid out across the brittle canvas with scant regard for credibility or continuity.
The prison where Sandler, with the help of incarcerated football coach Burt Reynolds (who incidentally played the lead in the 1974 version of the same story), puts together a football team is splattered with stereotypes -- including a group of gay guys dressed up as pom-pom girls for the game.
Gay jokes are a rudimentary part of this raunchy ride into humour. The actors try hard to ride the tacky terrain of timorous titters, but are largely defeated by the frivolity of the material.
Nonetheless, Sandler is in great shape here, being his blasé self, imbuing a sense of prideful ennui to his role of a freeloader who redeems himself by going back to his roots as a professional.
One only wishes that the football game had been interwoven into a more substantial canvas. Most of the way, the characters are more self important than satirical. Jokes about colour prejudice in prison and on the playing field are played out on an evil pitch.
You can't bring yourself to care for these leftovers from mainstream society as stereotypes or as individuals.
What you can do is enjoy their prankish mission to become overnight football players. The whole game plan is conducted with considerable energy and excitement. Sandler and his screen-mates Chris Rock and Burt Reynolds carry the film on their shoulders. But often you wonder if the material provided is worth their effort.
Cast: Adam Sandler, Burt Reynolds, Chris Rock
Direction: Peter Segal |
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Thursday, 01 June 2006 00:00 |
Director Breck Eisner seems to fall into the "Mr & Mrs Smith" trap. Like the other summer biggie, "Sahara" seems to rely much too heavily on the lead pair.
Mathew McConaughey and Penelope Cruz have considerable charm-individually. Put them together, and what do we get?
A WHO doctor and a rakish adventurer who spend all the time searching for sick communities and treasure, if not treasure from sick communities in North Africa. The breakneck screenplay (Thomas Dean Donelly) scarcely pauses to catch its breath before it takes the lead pair and its favourite sidekick (Steve Zahn) on yet another madcap chase through rivers that stretch as long as Ms Cruz's legs, if not beyond.
Most of the time "Sahara" looks like a cross between a comic book and a satire without being either ...or anything at all.
The brown-and-bronzed visuals (skilfully captured by cinematographer Seamus McGarvey) seem devoid of character and personality. Most of the frames look like shots from David Lean's "Lawrence Of Arabia" and Sam Mendes' "The English Patient".
Patience is a quality you require in gallons to sit through this self indulgent romp in the deserts. Dialogues include frantic puns on "patient" since the female protagonist is a doctor. And the scant courtship sequences seem to be apologetic about bringing romance into the rugged narrative.
The lines that the characters exchange give away nothing about their character or their motivations. Why do they do the things that they do? Why are they so enamoured of exotic expeditions? Are they driven by the same demons that drove Christopher Columbus and Walter Raleigh around the world?
"Sahara" simply drives you around the bend. What a great opportunity to tell a fabulous adventure saga...Such charismatic actors playing roles that require them to be valiant and vigorous...And yet the end-result is as devoid of dynamism as an eye catching photo-frame without a picture.
"Sahara" is pretty on the edges, blank at the centre.
Do we really need a film that lavishes millions on telling a story that's as bankrupt as a broke stockbroker?
"This is Africa. No one cares what happens," says one of the film's unfettered characters. Care or not, we really can't tell. Emotions are at a low ebb in this knee jerk adventure tale where shadows aren't allowed to fall across the frames.
These characters don't live real lives. And we are never allowed to forget this.
Starring: Matthew McConaughey, Penelope Cruz, Steve Zahn, Lambert Wilson, Delroy Lindo
Director: Breck Eisner. |
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Thursday, 01 June 2006 00:00 |
Stylized action in real locations doesn't always work in movies, but it does here perhaps because six of the eight actor-performers from the original Broadway show return for the movie version. These actors know their roles down to the grit in their fingernails, so the film feels loose and real, unfettered by a proscenium and opened up in an almost spiritual way.
"Chicago" proved that American audiences can still, on occasion, embrace a genre that has largely gone out of style. But what will mainstream audiences make of a musical about AIDS, drug addiction, homelessness and drag queens? "Rent" will be strong in major markets but needs crackerjack marketing to draw a broad young audience to the film.
"Rent," which Larson, its author and composer, did not live to see became a worldwide success, focuses on a group of impoverished young artists and musicians, struggling to survive in New York's East Village neighborhood in the 1980s under the shadow of AIDS. "Rent" shares with "La Boheme" an affirmation of the bohemian lifestyle, of creativity and art over anything as mundane as earning a living or paying the rent.
The reason, of course, is these lives might be short. Drugs and HIV inflict several characters. Each feels a pressing need to create a legacy, one in which whom you love is at least important as what you create. You live your art -- and life -- with a metaphorical gun to your head.
Roger (Adam Pascal) is a handsome yet melancholy songwriter coming off a long bout with heroin. Downstairs neighbor Mimi (Rosario Dawson), a spectacularly beautiful exotic dancer, has a definite eye for Roger, but he is emotionally shut down and understandably wary of her drug habit. What eventually brings them together, for a moment at least, is the realization that both are HIV-positive.
Roger's roommate Mark (Anthony Rapp), a struggling filmmaker, starts to document life around him, starting with his circle of friends. He also carries the torch for mercurial performance artist Maureen (Idina Menzel), who left him for -- the indignity of it all -- a woman, Harvard-trained attorney Joanne (Tracie Thoms).
Returning to the circle of friends is Tom (Jesse L. Martin), a former professor and computer whiz who is jobless. Moments after getting mugged outside his former digs, Tom meets the love of his life, Angel (Wilson Jermaine Heredia), a drag queen street musician. These two also are HIV-positive.
The outsider of the group is Benjamin Coffin III (Taye Diggs). Benny married the landlord's daughter and, despite a vow to keep his former roommates in the loft rent-free, has become the "enemy," a capitalist who wants to transform the 'hood by evicting everyone and building a headquarters for a cyberspace enterprise.
The threat of eviction ostensibly gives the story its dramatic impetus: Maureen means to stage a one-woman show in protest, Benny pressures Roger and Mark to stop her and so on. But the real dramatic propulsion comes from love. Tom and Angel fall hard for one another and revel in that love as their time together will be short. Mimi and Roger share an equally profound passion, but Roger refuses to acknowledge it. Mark still pines for Maureen, whose open behavior with men and women sparks doubt and jealousy in Joanne.
The film spills out of the cold-water lofts into nearby streets, bars, restaurants, performance spaces and churches in a celebration of the bohemian life. Stephen Goldblatt's camera is constantly in motion, and Young's dances have a athletic dynamism that energizes the screen. Some dialogue has been added in Steve Chbosky's adaptation, but like the stage show the story is told in musical numbers that flow smoothly one into another. Meanwhile, Larson's music honors a host of traditions, ranging from rock and blues to gospel, soul and even tango.
Columbus managed the complicated logistics of the first two "Harry Potter" movies but never put his own stamp on those huge productions. Something in "Rent," though, hooked him emotionally for the movie represents his best work -- confident of the material inherited from Larson, true to that legacy yet willing to make changes and expand the possibilities for the screen.
Nearly every big movie has its set pieces around which the film develops, but "Rent" is all set pieces. Each requires ingenuity and sweat to get the best out of a super-talented cast. That each succeeds on its own terms yet flows together so easily is a tribute to Columbus' passion for the material.
Howard Cummings' interior sets, the location work, Aggie Guerard Rodgers' vibrant costumes, the terrific dances and adventurous cinematography all add up to pure pleasure. |
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Thursday, 01 June 2006 00:00 |
"Memoirs" has generated plenty of heat on its way to the screen. The novel reportedly has been translated into 32 languages and the film production criticized for the casting of three leading Chinese actors -- Ziyi Zhang, Michelle Yeoh and Gong Li -- as Japanese. So opening boxoffice grosses will be strong. As an exotic romance set in the lost world of prewar Japan, the film should have sufficient legs to become a hit this holiday season.
The controversy extends beyond the cast, which is a case of a major (Japanese-owned) studio covering an expensive bet with international stars. Here is a film about Japan made by Americans, shot mostly in the U.S. and, of course, in English. Once you accept these compromises in the name of international filmmaking, none is a real deterrent to enjoying this lush period film.
Designer John Myhre's meticulous re-creation of a 1930s hanamachi or geisha district with its rickety wooden houses, ancients streets and alleys, formal teahouses and sea of nighttime lanterns on a Southern California ranch is an accomplished and credible set. The lavish kimonos, a sumo match, geisha dances, John Williams' lyrical East-meets-West musical score and atmospheric cinematography by Dion Beebe emphasizing deep, dark colors all are hallmarks of classic Hollywood filmmaking. These are surface delights that might distract from Marshall's tendency to focus on melodrama over intimacy and emotional excess over restraint.
"Memoirs" tells the story of a young child sold to an okiya or geisha household in Kyoto in 1929. Chiyo (Suzuka Ohgo) initially resists her initiation into this new life despite her terror of the doyennes of the domicile, Mother (Kaori Momoi, whose whiny, sharp voice often grates) and Auntie (Tsai Chin). Adding to her misery, the house's breadwinner, the treacherous geisha Hatsumomo (Gong Li), takes an instant dislike to the young girl.
When Chiyo attempts to run away, Mother refuses to put any more money into her geisha training. This relegates her to the status of maid for life. At her lowest point, as she sobs near the city river, a wealthy man she knows only as the Chairman (Ken Watanabe) treats her to a sweet and has kind words for her. This encounter transforms her life. She also falls in love with the Chairman.
Later, the hanamachi's legendary geisha, Mameha (Yeoh), takes the youngster under her wing, seeing in the beautiful girl with haunting eyes (now played by Zhang) a possible means to rid herself of her hateful rival Hatsumomo. Mameha makes, in essence, a bet with Mother that all of Chiyo's debts to the okiya will be paid off by her 20th birthday.
So the race is on. The young girl, whose name is changed to Sayuri when she becomes an apprentice geisha, undergoes intense training. In the world of a geisha, a glimpse of flesh under a kimono or a rumor spread by a malicious rival can make or damage a reputation forever. Mameha takes her "younger sister" to teahouses and introduces her to all her clients just as Hatsumomo and her protege, Pumpkin (Youki Kudoh), do the same. At every turn, Hatsumomo tries to undermine her rivals. All things lead to the auctioning of Sayuri's mizuage (virginity) to her wealthy gentlemen patrons.
The man who displays the most interest, despite his dislike of geishas in general, is the industrialist Nobu (Koji Yakusho). To Sayuri's dismay, Nobu's best friend and partner is the Chairman. No man will pursue a geisha favored by his friend. The man who emerges as Nobu's rival is Dr. Crab (Randall Duk Kim), nicknamed for his appearance, but not before the Baron (Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa), Mameha's patron, makes improper advances that nearly ruin Sayuri's career.
Naturally, Swicord's screenplay must eliminate characters and take shortcuts to stuff the major activity from the novel into the 144-minute movie. But these shortcuts run roughshod over subtlety. The chess game among these women is reduced to a cat fight. Hatsumomo is a much more formidable opponent than the movie gives her credit: She is clever, sharp and tenacious. The move version forces Gong to pay a spoiled drunk mad with jealousy.
Similarly, Sayuri is brought up to speed much too quickly. She performs a dance on her first night as an apprentice, something that would never happen. She makes sharp ripostes with her rival, dialogue more in tune with a '30s American film comedy than '30s Japanese culture. A dance performance at one point, choreographed by John DeLuca, feels like a modern Western interpretation imposed on Japanese tradition, more "Chicago" than Kyoto as it were.
The acting in all the major roles is astute. Zhang manages to seize the contradictory qualities of her character -- shyness and uncertainty coupled the defiance and iron will -- and mold them into a memorable female character. Yeoh brings just the right dignity and cautious calculation to the role of Sayuri's mentor. Gong puts the necessary sexuality into hateful Hatsumomo. Watanabe and Yakusho make strong impressions as wealthy men reduced to pandering to Yank occupiers after World War II.
The final third of the movie, rushing through the war and occupation, feels anti-climatic, even flat. Admittedly, the novel had a similar problem as this story is strongest when it enters the lost and secret world of women who never can pursue their own happiness. |
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