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Oscarwatch 2015: Bridge of Spies VS Carol

Editorial, Movie Review, , , , , , ,

brett_wiesenauerOf all the Oscar nominees, Bridge of Spies is the one I’ve been dreading writing about the most. My feelings on the latest Spielberg drama are complicated, due to my internal struggles to classify it by that terrible, outdated binary distinction of it being a “good movie” or a “bad movie”. It’s almost as if my inner film snob is trying to strangle itself, Dr. Strangelove-style.

In terms of technical craft, it is fine.

But I don’t talk technicals in my reviews. I talk about emotions, characters, stories, images, concepts, and interesting and memorable events. And when the first thing that comes to mind after a STEVEN SPIELBERG MOVIE of all things is the technical craft, the alarms start to go off. This is a director whose whole of his image is based in his innate ability to play the audience like the orchestra, swelling emotions like string sections under the hand of maestro John Williams. And yet, here is a film that left me feeling… nothing.

I walked out of the movie acutely aware that a craftsman, whom I have respected as an artist for years, had tried to manipulate my feelings for the characters and story before me, and he failed hard. Like the far, far worse The Danish Girl, I find that the more I think about it, the less I appreciate it. And I just loathed The Danish Girl from frame one save for Alicia Vikander, while initially I did try to defend some of the more troubling aspects of Bridge of Spies as soon as I viewed it before Christmas.

The acting is just unimpressive on the whole. Tom Hanks played his role as you’d expect Tom Hanks to play any role outside of the realm of the Wachowski siblings, and I didn’t care. Amy Ryan as his wife makes no significant impression, whatsoever. Alan Alda makes his rounds as still relevant older actor, yawn. The kid playing Francis Gary Powers, of the U-2 Spy incident, doesn’t make any sort of impact that he’s supposed to. Character actors come and go portraying various degrees of hostility, strong-arming, and intolerance that you’d expect from any message movie.

Of the whole cast of characters, the only one who makes a substantial impression is Academy Award-nominee Mark Rylance as the incriminated spy Rudolf Abel. In a movie filled with stuffy and stale archetypes, he brings a quiet precision to his character, sighing at the complexities of American justice systems prejudiced against any semblance of equality for his petty actions. The direction is where this movie falls short in terms of audience sympathy for the American characters, or any characters actually.

Granted, a good portion of the screenplay was at one point in the hands of the Joel and Ethan, the Coen Brothers. They bring a fast-paced banter to the story that certainly Bridge of Spies Launch One Sheetlifts it above uninvolving period drama and upgrades it to a level of ambition that is still mildly entertaining, just not successful in winning me over. That being said, classy banter does not a good movie make. Take for example the 1992 remake of the classic, low-budget noir Detour; that movie had an excellent hard-boiled script, but the actors just couldn’t handle it and the movie completely fails as thriller and drama. The difference between Bridge of Spies and Hail, Caesar is there were characters and situations that intrigued me in the latter, while I was nearly bored to tears in Spies.

The direction is where I realized just how unhappy I was with the movie. Spielberg tries on multiple occasions to grab on to emotions that were nonexistent on my end throughout. At the big trial, Tom Hanks makes a grand old speech for liberty and justice for all, and it lands with a hollow thud. I wasn’t swayed to his side as I should have been because I was already there. I believe in liberty and justice for all, this isn’t that ethically dubious, spy or no spy. Later on, we view youths in East Germany being gunned down as they attempt to cross the Berlin Wall. And again, it felt hollow. I felt like I was getting reheated outtakes from Schindler’s List, in a lesser package. I felt Spielberg simply going through the motions rather than making an honest effort.

The reason I mentioned technicals above is that, on paper, this film works fine. The editing, camera work, sound, music all do their jobs, but they overshadowed the lacking sense of story and investment/stakes. That is the sign of a truly flawed script and directorial duties. Trying to get involved in the storytelling and coming up empty save for “it looked nice, and sounded nice” is not the reaction this movie needed.

~Now let’s change gears and talk about a truly excellent movie that was snubbed in categories Bridge of Spies picked up.~

Carol is a much smaller scale movie than the latest Spielberg project, being the tale of a unique relationship ignited between an amateur photographer/full-time department store clerk and a married housewife. The film stars Rooney Mara of Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and The Social Network fame, alongside screen demigoddess Cate Blanchett, two-time Oscar-winner and patron saint of screen actors, whom audiences may recognize from the Lord of the Rings saga and The Monuments Men.

The story does concern itself with certain subjects that are still in contention throughout much of the United States. The unique relationship of mention is a close friendship that does evolve into lesbianism. The first hour is foreplay and character buildup for the ingénue Therese (pronounced Teh-rezz) and the lovely titular Carol Aird. The film doesn’t jump headlong into the intimacies of the bedroom, rather it explores the intimacies of female relationships in the early 1960s.

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The acting is utterly top-notch. Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara are radiant whenever they get a chance to steal the focus from Ed Lachman’s gorgeous photography. Also along for the narrative are Kyle Chandler as Harge, Carol’s estranged husband and Sarah Paulson as Carol’s best friend and confidante, Abby. The characters transcend their performers and take on actual existence on the screen, which is the goal of all great film performances. Under careful, consolidated direction from Todd Haynes, the cast work alongside one another, moving the story along at a good pace, keeping the performances front and center in tandem with the imagery and Carter Burwell’s ingenious scoring.

Seriously, the music is incredible. As much as I loved the thrilling tones of Ennio Morricone’s soundtrack to The H8ful Eight, I feel the score to Carol is so much more moving and deserving of recognition. The score is most certainly Mr. Burwell’s most Burwellian score, since Fargo at the least. The best way to describe it is an Adagio for Love as influenced by Phillip Glass. The strings and piano combine to form a perfect ode of nostalgia and melodrama, like one’s memory of a first love.

Topping off my list of exquisite elements of Carol is the imagery, delivered through the lens of Oscar-nominated Ed Lachman. The film was shot on Super 16 millimeter film, exuding a sense of being shown a private stash of home movies. The generous amount of soft lighting and truly lush color adds to the dream-like quality of the pictures. I mentioned H8ful Eight previously, and I have to say, even with all of Tarantino’s grandstanding about his use of 70-mm film in that project, methinks this little film about love makes a better case for preservation of physical film elements than that film did in all of its bloated three hours.

Unlike Bridge of Spies, I was fully invested in the love story on-screen from the minute we are introduced to Carol and Therese. There wasn’t a single moment where I lost interest in what was unfolding between the lovers and struggled to reattach my attention to anything, be it a filmmaking or storytelling element. Through the emotional journey audiences are transported on, the romantic tension and surprising amount of dramatic involvement will catch audiences off guard.

See, Carol is going through a divorce over the course of the film, and her husband Harge does not approve of the relationship she initiates with young Therese. There is a single moment shortly past the halfway point where a betrayal takes place that truly puts the stakes of Carol’s marriage into focus. With such stakes present, the hardest of hearts will be hard-pressed to honestly say they can’t relate to Carol’s decisions, regardless of her lifestyle choices.

The Academy most ungraciously passed Carol over for Best Picture and Best Director. Initially, I felt
shocked and disturbed by the omissions. But then I thought about the Academy’s history with LGBTQ projects and then it hit me. The previous projects of queer intrigue recognized by AMPAS all contained a significant arc of tragedy. Brokeback Mountain, The Imitation Game, Midnight Cowboy, Dallas Buyers Club, and Milk were nominated for Best Picture, but only Midnight Cowboy took home the statuette, and all ended poorly for their characters. The sole exception to this pattern being 2010’s The Kids are All Right, but since that was a comedy, which the Academy has a terrible history of overlooking, it received nothing for its efforts.

Carol is not by any means a tragedy; it is a tad harrowing at times, but the tone of the film is not one of “woe is me, for I am queer”. And actually, the focus is not on the genders, but on the romance, something more queer movies should take note of. It’s an update on the Romeo and Juliet story with the tragic bits replaced with that of 1950s and 60s high melodrama, which director Todd Haynes mastered previously in the Best Director-nominated Far from Heaven.

The point of it all is that instead of gracing a daring and matter-of-fact presentation of queer romance with well-earned recognition, the Academy went with the lazy, easy choice of nominating the old-hat, typical choice that only points to how outdated and out-of-sync the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences are with increasingly progressive movie audiences. For an organization that previously gave big awards and recognition to the likes of 12 Years a Slave and Philadelphia, the Oscars seem to act more like they are filling thematic quotas rather than actively recognizing quality film efforts that just so happen to push boundaries.

HAIL, CAESAR: A Classy Throwback to Golden Age Tinseltown

Local Entertainment, Movie Review, , , ,

brett_wiesenauerThe Brothers Coen, or Coen Brothers as most describe them, are back in the out-and-proud business of entertainment with a rambunctious ride of a comedy, in the vein of Raising Arizona and the cult phenomenon that is The Big Lebowski. Their latest, Hail, Caesar!, is a period piece/melodrama/screwball comedy hybrid that functions as a nostalgia-driven look back at the celebrated Golden Age of Hollywood that produced epics along the likes of Cecil B. DeMille’s The Ten Commandments, as well as the cheesy, but classy musicals featuring Esther Williams, Gene Kelly, and that guitar-playing gaucho, Roy Rogers.

 

Our leading player, Eddie Mannix, played to worn perfection by Josh Brolin, is a “fixer”, a man whose talents are put to use sniffing out and snuffing out potential scandals before they happen. A typical day involves a morning confessional at church, on-the-run schedule dictation with his world-weary secretary, multiple phone calls with studio heads and big-wig power players to keep the films on schedule, and meetings with actors and directors to work out their personal gripes.

 

On this day of days, a big name leading male star is kidnapped from his trailer, and that’s only the beginning of the shenanigans. Not only does Eddie have to pay ransom money for his missing male lead, he also has to deal with a furious director unsatisfied with his actors’ abilities, a pregnant starlet whose image is dependent on the public not finding out about her previous marriages and mishaps, twin gossip columnists on the prowl for juicy scoops, and on top of all that, he still has to make it home in time for dinner with the wife.

Eddie Mannix, the 'fixer' (Josh Brolin) Source: twitter.com/HailCaesarMovie
Eddie Mannix, the ‘fixer’ (Josh Brolin) Source: twitter.com/hailcaesarmovie

 

This film gets how to make a complicated narrative interesting to unravel, and still navigable without a color-coded map of characters, partially because they already are by their costumes. The Hollywood players wear suits to work, the mermaid has a tail, the kidnapped lead looks like a cosplayer from ancient Rome, and the song-and-dance men are all gussied up in their sailor outfits.

 

The cast of characters is eccentric to say the least, with a sizable portion of the film put aside to detail the confusingly offbeat path set for one Hobie Doyle (Alden Ehrenreich), prominent star of singing cowboy B-movies, who is suddenly thrust into a big and fancy, A-list prestige picture, complete with tuxes and tails. Doyle struggles to make do, but it’s obvious to all that he’s out of his element. But, a chance meeting with Eddie in his office leads to Hobie getting involved in tracking down the missing Baird Whitlock. Of all the key characters, Hobie is the only one truly intertwined with the kidnapped George Clooney story, unlike what the trailer sold to audiences: an all-star team-up of Scarlett Johansson, Channing Tatum, Tilda Swinton, and Jonah Hill to rescue George Clooney.

 

Many have accused the movie of being uneven and not unjustly so, as the film juggles many plot lines, mostly played for grins, dealing in sexy scandals, undercover communists, and kidnappings behind the scenes of a major Hollywood studio, Capitol Pictures. The story meanders around and jumps to different locations and character point of views as much as most rambling stories told to us by friends do. But, realistically, the changes in tone and pace make sense, as the main character is being escorted from problem to problem in the expectation that he can “fix” it with minimal trouble, but that’s not always the case.

 

One single, simple case of covering up an unwanted pregnancy ends up involving two trips to a law office to scope out legal solutions and a visit to a sound stage where the potential father is directing a musical sequence. Not all problems nowadays come in single events or day lengths. Some days, problems just proceed to pile on top of another until the poor schmo of problematic stature throws up his hands and reaches for the hooch. This is a filmed version of one of those days, and it’s being treated like it’s unbelievable fantasy. Harsh.

 

A particularly memorable sequence involves Eddie organizing a meet-up between local religious leaders to discuss whether the appearance of The Christ in the titular film would be considered tasteful by audiences of faith. “So a Protestant Minister, a Rabbi, an Orthodox Priest, and a full-blooded Catholic walk into a movie studio…”, you see where I’m going with this? The dialogue crackles with dry, witty barbs and argumentative personalities who just can’t agree on who The Christ was in context of the film, instead picking apart the stunts in the script for being “unbelievable”. It’s a really fun scene that makes the film feel heightened in hilarity, yet grounded in realistic human personalities. Late in the film, an actor, crucified on high, is asked whether he is a principal or extra by the lunch organizer. The actor wearily replies with uncertainty, as if to say even the cast doesn’t quite know what’s going on, which is a nice touch.Hail,_Caesar!_Teaser_poster

 

The movie itself looks fantastic. Roger Deakins, up for an Oscar this year for his haunting work on SICARIO (a vastly different Josh Brolin movie), brings a true touch of class to the proceedings, providing lush and vibrant recreations of Hollywood Old with a new twist. The cast plays well together, with not just the big established stars turning in great performances, from the likes of Clooney, Johannson, and Jonah Hill. The up-and-coming support shine through the action, with special mention to Alden Ehrenreich as the sure-footed cowpoke suddenly thrust into stardom. Besides Brolin and Clooney, not everyone else shares a lot of the screen time, with Brolin rushing from problem to problem and Clooney staring bewildered at his mischievously political captors from time to time. There’s a cute moment with Coen Bros. veteran Frances McDormand showing up as a chain smoking editor locked in a suite with her current project, the prestige picture that Hobie was thrust onto. But it is mostly a “hey, it’s [that actor]” kinda movie, with two kind of central characters navigating a never-ending pool of eccentrics.

 

Hail, Caesar! is a worthy addition to the Coen catalogue of manic and truly original works that straddle genre boundaries and don’t care if the audience can keep up with its brand of joyful noise. It rockets along at a gleeful pace and just packs in the homages to everything from Anchors Aweigh to Ben-Hur. I have a feeling this could be the Grand Budapest Hotel of 2016; it comes out early, entertains the crowds, and silently pokes its head up around Oscar season to snag some Oscar nominations later in the year.

 

If you are in the mood for a jolly old time revisiting the tone and imagery of Hollywood Classics of old, this movie will thoroughly entertain. If you are in a No Country for Old Men mood, you best stay home and watch the Coen’s version of True Grit, or the bleaker Josh Brolin movie, SICARIO.

Oscarwatch 2015: ROOM

Citizen Journalism, Local Entertainment, Movie Review, , , , , ,

brett_wiesenauerOf the Academy Award nominees out and about this season, Brooklyn and Room are the two that are fighting against the bigger tent-pole projects that the studios are hedging their bets on, solidified with big budgets, big names attached, and saucy subject matter that grabs attention easily. The smaller projects have more to prove with tighter stories, up-and-coming talent, and much less promotional material compared to studio powerhouses such as The Big Short and The Revenant. This is not to say “big studios are undeserving”, but indie movies have to struggle in order to earn their own awards and accolades.

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Jacob Tremblay and Brie Larson, a boy and his “Ma”

 

Alongside Brooklyn, Room is seemingly the movie to beat when it comes to the Best Actress race. With Room, the film concerns Jack, played with hesitant wonder by the young Jacob Tremblay, and his “Ma” (Brie Larson), who live in “Room”, a very small enclosure somewhere on the property of their guardian “Old Nick”. Jack has just turned 5 and celebrates with exercise and a birthday cake. Unbeknownst to Jack, “Ma” is not a willing resident of Old Nick. She was kidnapped by Nick over 7 years before, who impregnated her with Jack. The only thing that keeps Ma, whose real name is Joy, around is her undying love for her child. Since Nick has fortified the garden shed where they are kept with a special pair of doors that only open when Nick is around, Joy comes clean to Jack about the world that lies outside the shed where they are trapped. Jack, who has only known the “Room” all his life, doesn’t believe her and “wants to hear a different story”.

 

[(SPOILERS AHEAD)] In a last-ditch effort to escape, Joy comes up with a dangerous plan to fake Jack’s death and when Nick takes the boy’s body out, Jack can find the authorities to help. By the luck of a careful pedestrian, the effort succeeds, and after a brief stint in the hospital, the two are deposited at Joy’s mother’s house where they are descended upon by journalists. The remainder of the film deals with Joy and Jack coming to terms with life outside of the “Room”, and how they both deal with the new outside forces that neither of them had any intention of attracting. [(SPOILERS END)]

 

Like plenty of the other nominees, the key strength of the movie is in the performances rather than Lenny Abrahamson’s direction or storyline. Frankly, the story is glorified Lifetime channel movie material, literally ripped-from-the-headlines, as Emma Donoghue’s seminal book that she adapted herself for the screen was based on a lurid case of kidnapping that’s actually even more disturbing than the novel and movie are.

 

The director’s previous film was the delightfully offbeat musical comedy Frank about a band led by the eccentric titular character, dressed in a paper-mâché mask/head. In jumping to hard-hitting drama, Mr. Abrahamson is most certainly attempting to broadcast a talent for handling all types of movies, comic and dramatic. Granted, this is his 5th feature film, according to Wikipedia.

 

Brie Larson is a pillar of resilience in Room. Having done her time in the romantic comedies and bit parts in Big Hollywood movies, she has been biding her time, waiting for something to grab and make her own. And with 2013’s indie darling Short Term 12 and Room, she has made her presence known to the Hollywood establishment at large. That being said, she has a genre-spanning career, having appeared alongside Amy Schumer last year in Trainwreck, as a smoldering ex in Scott Pilgrim vs The World, and with Ma Newsome under her belt, she’s made it clear her acting prowess is something to behold.

 

Ma is memorable because of her balance of strength and vulnerability. Every scene is a balancing act along the lines of her keeping her mind sharp and being there for little Jack. Her skin reflects the pallor of one who has had no view of the sun for years, her eyes water constantly, but she keeps a smile on to ensure her son’s safe rearing and both of their survivals. In her dulled eyes are the personality of a woman near the breaking point, risking it all on a last ditch attempt for survival. Like Hugh Glass in The Revenant, she has moments where she breaks, but it is brief and never the real focus of the story, since at the heart, this is Jack’s tale.

 

Jacob Tremblay is a marvel as Jack, the precocious, yet exploratory child that’s yet to experience the world and its grand offerings. Many critics have complained of the irritating shrillness given by Jack at times, and those people obviously have no idea how children actually act out. Children are not just packages of smiles and laughs, not properly brought up children anyway. There is variance in their moods and behaviors. much like adults, but their emotions have more extreme poles of expression. And Tremblay nails the portrayal of a boy who, while possibly stunted, is still learning about the world and willing to explore, with his Ma of course.

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The film is not without detracting elements. The first half of the film is a closed off thriller, and the second half talky drama about feelings and experiences. These two halves don’t mesh very well as a whole product, and it’s not the fault of the director or the writer. It just feels off, and they tried to make it work. The best way I can explain it is you feel like you’re connected to these characters for the first half by umbilical, but after that passes, that connection is weakened due to the decrease in stakes. But on the bright side, Abrahamson has assembled a fine cast for support, including character actors Joan Allen and William H. Macy as Joy’s parents, worried beyond sick over the years of her imprisonment. Orphan Black cast member Tom McCamus adds solid support as Leo, Joan Allen’s new husband after separating from Joy’s father, finding moments to connect with young Jack over food and dogs.

 

To conclude, Room is a flawed film anchored by 2 stellar lead performances and a solid cast and script. While it won’t remain revered as a classic example of 2015 filmmaking, it is certainly worth a watch.

CREED: The Best Picture Not Recognized

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brett_wiesenauerAmong the many films up for Academy Awards at the end of this month, there has been minor uproar over the lack of colored persons nominated for anything at all in the major categories. I briefly discussed my thoughts in my review of that hollowed out DiCaprio frontier vehicle. And again I iterate, this could have been easily resolved on two fronts: I- Giving Straight Outta Compton a Best Picture nomination for the sake of appeasing the crowds who flocked to it. II- Give Creed a Best Director and Best Actor nomination.

Now, to be fair, I had only read opinions at the time on the latest Rocky Balboa-verse installment. But, I had not yet seen the film to adequately surmise its merits.And I am here to stand by those words as I have now seen Creed, and I must say I did not expect to enjoy it nearly as much as I did. Not to say I expected to dislike it, not at all. But over the years of viewing the Rocky Balboa franchise, I never was truly struck with the story of the boxing worlds greatest underdog, aside from the classic first entry. The first two movies are considered classics in their own right, telling Rocky Balboa’s tale with care and tenderness, but quickly devolved into silly, showy camp once Stallone took over directing duties, starting with ROCKY III. True, he has been the one behind the writing and conception of the character, but sometimes creators need a bit of distance between their darlings and them.

The exception to the silliness was the seeming conclusion to the franchise, 2006’s Rocky Balboa, where the tone was much more morose and Lazarus-esque, with Rocky having lost his wife to cancer in between the last movie and had truly retired from the world of prize-fighting to be a restaurateur. The sixth entry had a tone much closer to the initial film, focusing on Balboa’s relationships to old friends and his family rather than the outlandish fight situations he manages to land himself in. True, there was a fight at the center of the picture, but the story was much more based in Rocky recognizing his paternal relations with his son and the one he has with his community at large. Seemingly, Stallone was content with retiring Balboa with that entry, ending it with a sense of grace not too common in today’s big and bombastic film community.

Ryan Coogler had other ideas, apparently. And with Creed, he injects fresh vitality into the weathered Rocky Balboa universe. Instead of remaking the original film as any other director or studio would have happily done, Coogler takes the risk of telling a side story, one taking place in the same shared universe and community of a franchise, but focusing on entirely new characters with connective appearances by key characters from the original franchise, in this case the only living in-universe lead, Rocky himself.creed

The new film focuses on young Adonis “Donnie” Johnson (Michael B. Jordan, Fant4stic, Fruitvale Station), illegitimate son of Rocky’s sparring partner Apollo Creed, who was killed in the ring during the events of Rocky IV. Johnson grew up in and out of foster care, until finally being discovered as a pre-teen by Creed’s wife, Mary Anne, and taken in to her home. As an adult, he nurtures a talent in the ring, and leaves for Philadelphia when L.A. refuses his services. He connects with Rocky Balboa at his restaurant over Creed’s memory and eventually Balboa comes to appreciate the fiery fighting man. Adonis starts romancing a local songstress and starts to train for small-time events to hone his skills. After his parentage is revealed in the aftermath of his first showcase, an opportunity comes to Johnson for a major headlining fight against world light heavyweight champion “Pretty” Ricky Conlan, where Adonis hopes to go the distance, as Balboa did in the initial Rocky.

Once upon a time, George Lucas infamously said of his Star Wars series, “it’s like poetry, they sort of rhyme” in reference to recurring plot developments and action set pieces. Now, The Force Awakens has received reasonable amounts of criticism for seemingly rehashing the storyline of much of the original STAR WARS for a multitude of its plot and structure. Arguably, Creed could be seen to suffer from the same problem, but here’s the thing that prevents me from calling both films lazy: differences in approach and the journey itself. In Episode VII, JJ Abrams had to keep the grounds familiar to fans of the franchise while taking baby steps in a different direction for the franchise, which he did.

Creed starts out a wholly different creature from the Rocky franchise as possible, a study of a young man struggling to make a name for himself doing what he enjoys and has a knack for. While Adonis does not quite have the ability to take punishment like Rocky could in his prime, he does have a constantly sensitive rage boiling underneath his seemingly zen demeanor. His is a story about finding and nurturing your talents with the right supervision, much like the original Rocky, with nods to Balboa in Creed acting as mentor to “Donnie” as Burgess Meredith’s Mickey did originally. As mentioned, there are parallels in this film, with the long shot chance to prove his worth being the most obvious, along with the rigorous training ol’ Rock puts Johnson through while Donnie simultaneously finds love with Bianca, a level-headed musician played with compassion by up-and-comer Tessa Thompson.

Most audiences and Academy patrons would write this film off as a Stallone comeback vehicle alone that just happens to continue with a black protagonist, but that is being unfair and cynical. Rocky has had comebacks before, and so has Stallone, proving his dramatic chops with choice titles such as Cop Land and First Blood. This movie does give Rocky a choice role, but he is not the focal point. If there is one, it’s shared by both Adonis and Balboa equally, as it is primarily Johnson’s story that happens to lead to Philadelphia, and Rocky by association. Coogler takes the existing material and takes what he wants freely from the mythos of the Balboa backstory, but fashions it into a lively and reborn sports drama that thrums with energy and skilled visual storytelling, one of my soft spots.

The prologue where we meet young Adonis in juvenile detention and learn of his parentage is shot not sappily, as Stallone may have, but honestly and it cuts to the title at the perfect moment. Immediately we are thrown into the seedy prize fights in Tijuana, where the now-grown Johnson seeks his sport. There are a couple of solid long takes during the fights that truly put audiences in the ring with the fighters almost as if participating as an unofficial referee, dodging hulking masses of muscle and spinning around the fighters without making viewers queasy.

Coogler crafts a magnificent picture more than worthy of awards attention, never stooping to the clichés creed_movie_poster_1that the Rocky franchise has set the stage for in previous years. There is never a sense that the writers insert conflict for the sake of scripting, the foils and foibles are organic to the characters and their faults. The camerawork is simply splendid. Michael B. Jordan was robbed of an awards nomination for no obvious reason. Eddie Redmayne has no standing for the Oscar this year compared to Jordan’s living, breathing sense of ferocious ingenious. He broods, lashes out at his loved ones, cries for recognition as his own man, not just living in his father’s immense shadow of legacy. And Stallone also has his moments of quiet understanding, watching Adonis as a sort of reflection of himself as a young fighter. Both are equally deserving of recognition is what I’m saying.

Are You Listening, Academy? You Goofed Again!

Creed is one of those near-perfect cinematic experiences that proves you can still instill life into an aged franchise provided the right point-of-view. I can only hope more filmmakers attempt to tell similar stories in other beloved franchises after Coogler’s success here. I look forward to his next work as well as the ongoing success of Mr. Jordan. Bravo, sirs.

BROOKLYN: The Oscarwatch Continues

Citizen Journalism, Editorial, Movie Review, , , , , ,

brett_wiesenauer*Methinks I’ll do pieces on each of the Big Oscar Contenders, seeing as I have already done pieces on Trumbo, FURY ROAD, The Martian, and The Revenant, as well as mentioned that little gem Spotlight. Expect a CREED review soon, as well as something on Room, The Big Short, and possibly Bridge of Spies. No promises on the latter.

As far as the Academy Awards go, one of the easiest ways to impress the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (AMPAS) is to tell a unique, simple story really well, in a memorable way. Take as an example a movie about ambassadors trapped in a hostile country that have a fake film crew organized by the CIA to rescue them: Argo, the Best Picture winner from 3 years ago. A small-time boxer and low-rent enforcer overcomes his station in life to go the distance to spar with the heavyweight champion of the world of boxing, and finds romance along the way: 1976’s Best Picture and beloved franchise kick-starter ROCKY.

Now, I assume some readers presume the worst in me since I have been touting the praises of Mad Max: FURY ROAD since its release back in May of 2015, and could not be happier to see it as a big Academy Award contender. As an avid fan of genre films and the director’s work, I will chalk up a lot of my hype for the film as fan-boyish glee, knowing that one of my favorite things about film and fantasy is being recognized by the star-making industry event that is The Oscars(tm).

And while I hope it sweeps the technical categories (visual fx, sound, designs) instead of the STAR WARS juggernaut and possibly takes one of the Big 5 (Picture or Director) away from the clear favorite The Revenant, I don’t presume to call FURY ROAD the winner out of the gate, since I’ve been disappointed too often before by the powers that be.

And to those readers who curl their lips to my feelings on defending my post-apocalyptic ice-cream sundae of artistic chaos, I offer a concession: If the Oscar doesn’t go to FURY ROAD, I hope it goes to BROOKLYN.

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BROOKLYN is a film I would refer to as the “little movie that could”. ‘Tis the dark horse of a most competitive Best Picture race. The small-scale romance movie tells the tale of Eilis (pronounced AY-lish) a young lady who moves to the United States in the early 1950s to escape the droll life she leads among the gossips and the matrons of Enniscorty, a small village in southeast Ireland. Leaving her mother and sister behind, after a slightly harrowing boat ride, she arrives in New York, passes through Ellis Island, and finds quarters at a boarding house in the titular borough, with some lively boarders including some shopgirls who help her get her start in the busy world of American life. She connects with a kindly Irish priest, who starts her in a night class to learn bookkeeping. At a community dance, she meets a handsome, slightly shy Italian boy named Tony, and the two quickly fall into love with each other.

We as an audience proceed to follow a delightful little treat of a romantic journey between two adorable people and the trials that come up between them when Eilis suddenly has to return to Ireland to deal with a bit of family drama. Once she arrives back to the land of her birth, she is courted by another young man and is expected to settle down in her old community for the sake of her little village standing. Eilis must make tough decisions that could decide her life’s journey for the better. And it is beautiful.

What most people don’t know about me, judging solely on what I present to the world, is that while I give off the air of a desperate, sardonic adrenaline junkie and hardcore action man, I am a hopeless romantic at heart. And I love a good romance movie. None of that rubbish that Nicholas Sparks sells in his recycled works, not the uncomfortably by-the-numbers that pass for romantic comedies these days, I mean a true blue story about human beings, not stereotypes, who fall in love, and the sometimes harrowing emotional journey that love takes them on.

004-sunrise-theredlist
A scene from the early Academy Award winner SUNRISE

Confession time: My favorite movie of all time is SUNRISE: A Song of Two Humans. The story concerns a farmer, tempted by a woman from the city, who becomes convinced he should murder his wife in order to move to the city with his mistress. It tells a low-key, low-stakes story with graceful storytelling, careful performances from its two leads, and gorgeous photography that influenced modern filmmaking all the way back in 1927.

Fun fact that few people know or remember: At the first Academy Awards in 1929, they gave out two Best Picture Awards. AMPAS gifted SUNRISE the second one, titled “Unique and Artistic Production”, but scrapped its legacy by retroactively declaring the other winner, the war drama Wings, to be the better picture that year. I have seen both films, and I have to say, like too many times, the Academy is Wrong.

BROOKLYN reminded me heavily of the romantic tale at the center of Sunrise. I, along with other audiences and critics worldwide, was caught up in the beautiful story of love that blossoms among the backdrop of the big city, and the youthful tenderness that accompanies early love. The performances by the whole cast is superb, from Julie Walters as the head of Eilis’ boarding house to accomplished character actor Jim Broadbent as the friendly priest that Eilis confides in. Even Actor of the Year Domhnall Gleeson is enjoyable to watch as the bashful suitor awaiting Eilis back in Ireland.

But undoubtedly the heart of the film is the two leads, Saorise Ronan, (pronounced SIR-shah) and Emory Cohen. Ronan is charming to boot as the feisty young lady determined to make her own way in life with or without the aid of others, though she continually receives it because she’s just so adorable and admirable to those around her. And as much as I applaud the awards buzz Ms. Ronan is receiving for her darling role, the Academy missed out not nominating Emory Cohen for Supporting Actor. As Tony, he obviously aches for Eilis whenever she isn’t around and exudes an old-fashioned chivalry that transcends his humble roots as a poor plumber’s apprentice. To add to that, Indiewire included him on their list of the 16 Best Characters of 2015, among the likes of Furiosa from FURY ROAD, and Jack, the little boy from Room, another approaching Oscarwatch subject.

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I adored this little movie, and am most happy to have caught it while it was still humbling its way around the theatrical circuits. Catch it if you can while the Oscars are still promoting it, at the likes of Woodland mall, where you can see it for only $5! Peace and Love, y’all.

THE REVENANT review + An #OscarsSoWhite rebuttal

Citizen Journalism, Editorial, Movie Review, , , , , , , ,

brett_wiesenauerAll right, it’s your favorite time, it’s my favorite time: It’s Unpopular Opinion Time! -wow- ~awesome~

 

Today’s first topic is that infernal Oscars controversy and then I’ll get on with my thoughts on the latest Iñárritu. Sound good? Alright.

 

–ahem–

 

Y’all should know by now that the Oscars are run by a group of middle-aged white men who tend to hand off awards to a specific type of movie [vanilla, slightly trendy period drama or ham-handed message movie about the environment/war/poverty/racism/mental illness/cultural malaise] and are as willing to change their ways as the modern Republican party. Is it any surprise these people are nominating prominently Caucasians instead of more than worthy people of color?

 

In the previous 25 Oscar ceremonies, Best Picture has gone to a movie prominently featuring non-whites only 3.5 times*. I count Dances with Wolves as half, since it is still primarily this guy’s movie:

'Murica by Kevin Costner‘Murica
by Kevin Costner

In defense of the current nominations, I will say this. I’ve seen a fair majority of the nominees and can’t fault the choices for the most part. That is not to say there is not room for improvement. On the contrary, I spotted a few spaces where the Academy stooped to the lazy nomination choice, for example Eddie Redmayne for that abomination The Danish Girl took a place that could, And Should, have been occupied by Michael B. Jordan for CREED. In addition, Ryan Coogler should have gotten a director nod for said film in place of Iñárritu, who already won last year for a slightly better film, plus Benicio del Toro should have easily secured a Best Supporting Actor nomination for his devastating turn in SICARIO.

 

Other than that, a lot of the people of color performances just couldn’t top what was chosen. I love Idris Elba as much as the next person, and I appreciated his role in Netflix’s flagship title Beasts of No Nation, but I can’t say he’d have been a better choice than Benicio or Mark Ruffalo’s turn in Spotlight, or Tom Hardy. The only one Elba had a chance to overcome was Christian Bale, who I feel was put on a pedestal above Steve Carell’s equally, if not more, compelling performance in The Big Short. Other than that, Straight Outta Compton was exceptional, and had a surprisingly good cast, but it would not have been on my personal list for Best Picture, and no one from the cast truly stood out. That is not to say the acting was lacking, far from it. But the strength in the performances was in the sense of ensemble that came about whenever they were together on screen. At least I would have considered the movie, unlike what AMPAS did.

 

In conclusion, there are issues with both sides of the issue. If you want to read some additional rebuttals I feel are worth sharing, The Rebel did a fine piece examining the Academy voters and their vision. And the Academy recently announced a few changes they are making to their populace in order to save face…by 2020.

 

I am now stepping down from my soapbox; we now return to your regularly scheduled movie criticism.

4evenantGetting this here joke outta the way now.

The Revenant is a good movie. I will not dispute its worth as a piece of entertainment to be viewed au cinema. It is a frustrating, self-importance-touting, frontier art-house flick that, at the end of the day, I feel deserves to be nominated as one of the 10 (8 *cough*) Best Pictures of the Year. But, it does not deserve to win anything.

 

What’s it all about, you ask?

 

Hugh Glass and his half-breed son are tagging along with a crew of frontiersman transporting furs, when suddenly a troupe of renegade Arikawa tribesman attack the men and send them fleeing down the river with massive casualties. Fitzgerald, one of the brigands whose sole livelihood was the abandoned furs, takes out his frustrations on Glass, causing tension to fill the group. While hunting further in the wilderness, Glass is viciously set upon by a mother grizzly, in one of the most anxiety-inducing action scenes of 2015. Afterwards, Glass is laid up and left in Fitzgerald’s care until he either regains his strength or dies and is buried.

 

But the treacherous brigand tries smothering Glass, is caught by Glass’ half-breed son, and dispatches the boy so as to wipe all evidence of his wrongdoing away, escaping to a fort to claim his rewards for “doing what had to be done”. But Glass is still quite alive, and now thirsts for revenge. He limps his way through the wilds of frontier-era territories to find retribution as well as civilization, dodging the renegade tribe after his fellow crew, and struggling to heal his wounds and survive long enough to confront his nemesis before nature claims him as well.

 

Let’s talk the look of the film as a whole: People get messed up, a lot. Arrows fly, men’s faces are bloodied in the worst of ways, people on horseback fly off cliff sides, Glass has to treat a horse like that poor Tauntaun from The Empire Strikes Back, he eats raw buffalo liver, it all gets pretty intense. The film looks great, in all its brutal glory. This is to be expected; it’s shot by now 8-time Academy Award-nominee and 2-time winner Emmanuel ‘Chivo’ Lubezki, who shot both G R A V I T Y and last year’s Best Picture BiRDMAN. Here’s the thing though, the entire movie reminded me of another very flawed, visually epic film adaptation: Justin Kurzel’s Macbeth.

 

Now, those of you who read my things will know that I mentioned that film as one to look out for come its release sometime in December. Welp, I saw it, and here’s one of the problems with both movies: Both films are filled to the brim with “trailer fuel”, shots that look amazing and will look great in the trailer for the film. But the whole film just screams “Look at me, I’m so interesting and pretty” and the audience tiredly nods like parents with over-excited children.

 

I feel most film should be like a good meal. The meat should be hearty and excellent, that is here. Every single shot is the photographic equivalent of a blue-ribbon slice of filet mignon. But, everything in the movie is a perfect shot, and I love filet mignon, but I can’t make a whole meal out of piece after piece of filet mignon. I need a side dish, one that’s not filet mignon. My champagne glass should not be filled to the brim with steak juice is what I am saying.

rev1Wow: That’s a great shot! The MOVIE

Onto the little director that could: Alejandro Gonzales Iñárritu. He proved last year he was a visionary, with wit, charm, and a limit to his pretense that made The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance a neat treat of narrative and visual flair that was certainly worthy of a nomination for Best Picture.

 

Here’s the rub: He thinks too much. Seriously, there could be a good 20-25 minutes cut out of this movie for the sake of making it less pretentious and slightly more palatable. I hold no issue with the brutal nature of the violence or things that happen to Glass and his fellow frontiersman. I hold issue with the fact that there can be small cuts made here and there to keep the flow going, narratively. The Pirates of the Caribbean series also has this issue. The director refuses to sacrifice a frame of their vision and it can be aggravatingly slow-paced.

 

This does not mean Alejandro doesn’t know what he is doing. I can see what Alejandro is going for, after all one of my all-time favorite flicks is Lawrence of Arabia. That film was later described by one of its stars as “four hours long…no women, and no love story, and not much action either, and he wants to spend a huge amount of money to go film it in the desert”. I can appreciate his efforts, but he ends just short of the mark. Please don’t give him another Oscar simply because he made something that looks nice.

 

^Long story short: The Man Won His Oscar Last Year. Give it to Georgie.

 

Oh, Leo. You under-appreciated over-achiever, you. I appreciate all you’ve done over the years to entertain us. Catch Me if You Can is still a delightful romp of fun and intrigue, The Aviator showed your acting chops just right, Inception gave you a little something different that still had strengths for you to flex, and Django Unchained was psychotic fun from the moment you arrived onscreen. I truly appreciate your breadth of work.

 

I think you could’ve done better here.revenant_0

 

My problem is not what Leo does in this movie. It’s what he doesn’t do. The character is two-note: Cautious Experienced Hunter & Revenge-seeking Revenant. He screams occasionally, like when he’s attacked by the bear, or when he finally confronts his adversary at the tail end of his journey. But in between those bursts, he is stuck with this comical scowl on his face that is supposed to stand in for emotion as he treks through the wilds of the American frontier for the sake of REVENGE.

 

At times, he will dream of his dead wife and his recently-deceased son, then he looks sad for a moment’s time. Then he wakes and he keeps on trekking, scowl plastered back on his face. There is no defined range that we saw in the likes of The Wolf of Wall Street or the under-appreciated grindhouse throwback Shutter Island. We’ve come to expect a range of things from this actor, and the film hobbles him by limiting him. That is wasting your talent. Not as in Leo is wasting it, but the film is wasting the talents of a gifted performer.

 

Now I expect a fair amount of backlash over my feelings on Leo along the lines of, “But you loved Tom Hardy’s rugged mug in FURY ROAD, and he spends most of that movie looking desperate and grunting every few minutes. You hypocrite!”

 

But, with Mad Max FURY ROAD, we have a franchise backlog of 3 other movies that contain Max’s backstory and experience to reference, and even with that the movie does a good job of catching us up without clunky exposition. Mel Gibson wasn’t exactly the most expressive Rockatansky after the first Mad Max. Tom Hardy did well carrying the torch as previous.

 

Speaking of Tom Hardy’s rugged mug, much like the similarly troubled H8ful Eight, this movie does have its share of excellent attributes. The cinematography, as noted, is par for the celebrated course. The cast is really good, with Tom Hardy providing a great character in Glass’ nemesis Fitzgerald, with a hefty swagger and true grit in acting that shows him as worthy of a Supporting Actor nomination, having been snubbed for previously excellent work in the likes of The Drop and Nicholas Winding Refn’s Bronson. Also of note is Actor of the Year, Domhnall Gleeson, as the expedition leader who pulls a few bad-ass moments out of his brief screen time. Keep your eyes peeled for Grand Rapids native Joshua Burge as an expedition member. The music is properly ethereal and never takes audiences out of the moments onscreen.

 

People and critics keep heaping praise on this work, citing how “it was such a difficult film to shoot”, “Leo had to eat bison liver raw, and he’s vegan”. Well, this is what happens when the director and ‘Chivo’ decide the film needs to be shot using only natural light, limiting their locations and schedule as per. I don’t know what to say about Leo’s life choices, but he signed on to make the movie. He knew what the hardships would be. He’s a big boy. He’ll survive.

 

In terms of difficult films to make, George Miller started pre-production on FURY ROAD in 2000. He spent nearly a dozen years location scouting, raising money for the production by making the Happy Feet films for the big studios, recasting when delays set in due to lack of funds, and designing props, vehicles, costumes with his crew. FURY ROAD was finally shot in 2012 and released to cinemas just last year.

 

Alejandro and His Films Do Not Need Defending. He Has Already Won Big. Long Live George Miller!

 

Overall, The Revenant is a good one. I think it is definitely worth seeing in the theater and ruminating over afterwards with friends by a fireplace, over a glass of Jack Daniels, neat. I will insist however that it is not the Best Picture of the Year. It is flawed, it is portentous, it is twenty-five-odd minutes of frontier action inflated with over two hours of artsy imagery. And I do hope Leo is finally rewarded, so he can relax for a few years before he decides he needs another Oscar. I wish they’d give it to Michael Fassbender or Bryan Cranston who had better performances overall, but I will be satisfied if they give it to Leo just so he can stop scowling at us.

Gothic Beauty Awaits chez Crimson Peak

Movie Review, , , ,
Director Guillermo del Toro shows off the set of Crimson Peak.
Director Guillermo del Toro shows off the set of Crimson Peak.

Too many audiences are making a key mistake when they go to theaters to see movies. When the Crimson Peak trailer debuted, audiences simply assumed from the imagery and the booming score that this was just another period-piece, horror movie. The old adage still holds true: Trailers Always Lie!

They are half-right. It is a period piece. I don’t expect audiences to do research studies before going to see a movie, but a little reading has never really hurt, has it?

The director himself, Guillermo del Toro has even come out in various interviews explaining that the marketing is out of his hands, as his movie is a Gothic romance; just “a story that has ghosts in it”, not necessarily a ghost story. And the man is right, after all, he made the movie.

To describe this movie in simplest terms is if Hitchcock’s best Gothic romances (Suspicion, Rebecca, & Notorious) were all pureed by Dario Argento and topped with delicious Guillermo del Toro frosting.

The story concerns a troubled young American socialite, Edith Cushing, played by Mia Wasikowska of Disney’s Alice in Wonderland reboot fame, who yearns to explore the world and become a writer of stories. To escape the literal ghosts of her past, she falls for brooding inventor and land baron, Sir Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston, The Avengers), but is forbidden to love him by her concerned father (Jim Beaver, Deadwood). After her father’s mysterious death, Sharpe whisks her off to England to reside in the family manor, a decrepit house occupied by Sharpe and his curious sister, Lucille (Jessica Chastain, Zero Dark Thirty). Little does Edith know of the dark past of the manor and its occupants, but she’s about to find out the price of loving mysterious men.

The cast here is truly top-notch. Hiddleston is basically playing a combination of Laurence Olivier’s Heathcliff and Michael Fassbender’s Rochester, with both turmoil and conviction. Wasikowska is a brilliant stand-in for the Joan Fontaine type. Charlie Hunnam is a charming character, for once, as the optometrist who has an interest in detective work. Jim Beaver, as Edith’s father, is not a stubborn fire and brimstone man as much as a cautious father, protecting his kin from what he perceives to be trouble. Even Burn Gorman in his brief appearance instills a sense of professional quality and resolve in his private investigator.

Spooky, Scary Jessica Chastain in Guillermo del Toro's gothic chiller, CRIMSON PEAK.
Spooky, Scary Jessica Chastain in Guillermo del Toro’s gothic chiller, Crimson Peak.

And then Jessica Chastain appears.

The fire that powers this woman is terrifying. Apparently possessed by the enraged spirits of both Bette Davis and Joan Crawford, all eyes are on her whenever she enters the story frame. There is a definite feeling of unease when she shares the screen with anyone, especially Hiddleston and Wasikowska. Brrrr! Just remembering every scene she has brings a shiver and a smile. It’s that chillingly good! Even when she’s simply playing the piano, she’s intimidating, and yet ridiculously alluring at the same time. like if Lauren Bacall played Mommie Dearest…or maybe that’s just me.

Everything else is quite up to snuff. The production design and costumes are equally lush and epic in construction. The music is on point, although sometimes plays to horror conventions much too easily for my taste. The sound design is downright masterful, echoing the likes of Robert Wise’s classic The Haunting as well as the under-appreciated Legend of Hell House.

I gotta admit: I am in love with Guillermo’s oeuvre. The man is a cheerful storyteller whose geek flag is flying high with every movie he makes. 2013’s Pacific Rim was his love letter to kaiju movies of the 1950s as well as mecha anime of the 1990s. His Academy-Award winning Pan’s Labyrinth was an ode to fairy tales and mythic creatures of Mexican lore. This movie is his love letter to both the Gothic romance genre, the works of Brontë and Daphne du Maurier as well as classic haunted house fare like The Old Dark House (James Whale, 1932). The man truly appreciates western and eastern pop culture equally, which y’all would know if you follow him on twitter. The man has near-encyclopedic knowledge of culture going back 150 years, nearly.

If you haven’t fear of witnessing what would happen if a classy story of ghosts, murder, and romantic intrigue was given a solid R-rated treatment, feel free to check out Crimson Peak before it leaves theaters, forever.brett_wiesenauer

Disney’s Tomorrowland, a Fascinating Curio, Ironically Lacks Direction

Movie Review, ,

tomorrowland-logobrett_wiesenaurBrad Bird is one of the most exciting filmmakers working today.

Starting as an animator, his creative talents won him jobs behind the scenes of The Simpsons and quickly led to animated feature films at Pixar, helming both The Incredibles and Ratatouille. He also is the mastermind behind one of my all-time favorite movies, The Iron Giant, also one of my first theatrical experiences – which I shall write about ever-shortly, coinciding with it’s upcoming theatrical re-release in September.

tomorrowlandIn 2011, Bird transitioned into live action movies with the fourth installment of the Mission:IMPOSSIBLE franchise, Ghost Protocol. And now, we have his first truly “original” live action work, Tomorrowland. Co-written by Bird and Damon Lindelof, he of LOST and Star Trek reboot infamy, the film was one of my most expected of this year.

How did it compare to my modest expectations? Well, let’s start with what I liked.

First off, the casting is great. George Clooney plays a great curmudgeon with gusto and gruff charm, so no real issues there. Britt Robertson is the bright-eyed newcomer whose admirable can-do spirit was more than infectious and carried the movie entirely. Then, there’s Raffey Cassidy, who plays a mysterious girl connecting both Robertson and Clooney to a mysterious location never ostensibly named, but we shall refer to as TOMORROWLAND because obvious movie title is obvious.

tomorrowland2As a boy, Clooney was swept up in said location’s ingenious open-minded policies, but left after discovering a crushing secret. Cassidy’s Athena is a funny, endearing, and preposterously badass character who is arguably the best thing to come out of science fiction since Christopher Nolan’s INCEPTION. I shan’t spoil her character and motives, but the movie is worth watching simply for her lovely performance.

There are also delightful extended cameos from comics Kathryn Hahn and Keegan-Michael Key as a pair of eccentric shop owners who basically run an operational nostalgia factory, selling working replicas of classic sci-fi characters including Disney’s recently-acquired STAR WARS cast, Artoo and Threepio.

Another delight to the movie is the designs and the ideas presented within the film. The inciting moment in the film comes when Robertson’s character, bailed out of lock-up for mischievous sabotage, touches a Tomorrowland pin in her belongings, which functions as a transportive tour simulator of the titular location, filled with jetpacks, Back-to-the-Future style jumpsuits, and the best design for a swimming pool I’ve seen since the Golden Age of Hollywood.

The main thematic message is also worth mentioning just because of its plea for hope for humanity as well as the future. It’s a message that is worth telling because of the saturation of pessimism in the mass media, which is there to extinguish hope, an interesting take on the ideal. Another plus is the overall sense of nostalgic fun, which has been greatly missed in live-action Disney of late, reminding the author of growing up watching the classic live action Disney adventures along the likes of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and the original TRON.

Tomorrowland3As for my major gripe, I’ll be brief, as I still recommend the film. I have had a tumultuous [read BAD] relationship with the primary screenwriter, Mr. Lindelof. Let’s face it, the man cannot write conclusions at all. LOST was an infamously poor joke and Star Trek INTO DARKNESS stole from better source material without bothering to add any improvements.

The big problem with this film is the third act. Lindelof, or the studio, came to the tired conclusion that this movie needed a defined plot, rather than being satisfied just exploring TOMORROWLAND and trusting that the journey the characters embark upon will be fascinating and engrossing enough. Instead, they shoehorn in a last-minute villain and force in a couple-too-many action set pieces because it’s the safe tried-and-true Hollywood method to make high-concept blockbusters.

Notably, the film has vastly underperformed at the box office; their strategy has backfired. If the makers had trusted the journey they’d constructed to be enough, they wouldn’t have to trot out tired old cliches that ended up leaving their potential audience uninterested.

Overall, I’d say that Tomorrowland is worth checking out, at least as a rental a la Redbox or Netflix one evening. The film is not perfect; not all films can be Fury Road, after all. But still, the creativity and the casting makes it an interesting curio. ‘Tis not quite the new Disney classic that some may have expected, but something still worth noticing and talking about so as to learn and improve for the future, which is definitely for the best.

Mad Miller Strikes Again

Citizen Journalism, Local Entertainment, Movie Review, Reviews, , , ,

brett_wiesenauerEditor’s Note:  This begins a series of movie reviews by a film fanatic in West Michigan who is getting a degree in Communications, Broadcasting, Film and Video from Grand Valley State University.

“I am the scales of justice. Conductor of the choir of death. Sing, Brothers! Sing! SING!!” ~The Bullet Farmer

Over the last year, it’s been a slog anticipating movies. Enough movies have come and gone, here today gone tomorrow that I’ve just about given up on hoping for good, enjoyable genre films to come out and make a difference. I’ve been burned way too many times; PACIFIC RIM was amazing, but critics and audiences dismissed it as nothing special, Godzilla meandered around rather than inspiring any adoration, and anything who mentions the name Michael Bay to my face might as well slap themselves before I do it harder, with a folding chair.

But then, here comes George Miller, septuagenarian madman extraordinaire, to show off his kaleidoscopic symphony of insane imagination, George Millerrelentless adrenaline, and consummate joy: Mad Max: FURY ROAD. It’s as if he’s been sitting off to the sidelines all these years, watching director after director try to make action movies in Hollywood, finally standing up in a huff, exclaiming, “No, no, no; this is how you make an action movie, lads”. On top of all that, the critics are lauding this film, of the 249 critics who have seen the film, only 5 have given the film a negative review, awarding the film a 98% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes. In regards to action filmmaking, this is unheard of; not since The Dark Knight has a film rode the critical whirlwind like this, and not a non-comic book actioner since the original Matrix film.

FURY ROAD follows Tom Hardy’s Max, a former motor cop broken down by the loss of his family and friends in the fall of law and order post-Apocalypse. He is captured by the War Boys of Immortan Joe, a warlord who looks like the result of The Joker designing a suit of medieval armor, holed up in the towering Citadel somewhere in deserted Australia. Shortly after Max’s capture, one of Joe’s subordinates, Imperator Furiosa, played to hardened perfection by Charlize Theron, steals Joe’s prized breeding wives, in a desperate bid for freedom across the hostile Outback. The following one-hundred odd minutes has been described as a cathartic, two-hour car chase in the desert between madness and unbridled fury. And it is astounding to behold.Charlize Theron

Charlize Theron is fantastic as the stoic Furiosa who will do anything to provide a better life for the young ladies in her care, clearly earning her sharing top billing with Tom Hardy’s Max Rockatansky. Tom Hardy takes over from Mel Gibson quite well. He moves with precision, determination; there’s a lot of animalistic behavior in his madness. And his Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is as haunting as most anything from The Babadook. Nicholas Hoult is a treat as the nutty War Boy Nux, providing moments and dialogue that is destined for a pantheon of insane bad assery. There’s also the chief villain, Immortan Joe, who is played by the same actor as the villain in the original Mad Max, the Toecutter! Then there’s the Doof Warrior, a man clad in a lava-red jumpsuit who has not a single line in the film, but steals every scene simply because the man wields an electric guitar that breathes fire! Also, Rictus Erectus is to be referred henceforth as Stone Cold Steve Australia.

The funniest thing is that for the last 20 years, Miller has been tempering himself by working in family films. After seemingly concluding the original Mad Max trilogy with the entertaining, yet uneven Beyond Thunderdome, Miller made the 2 Babe films as well as 2 Happy Feet flicks. With ease, Miller remembers that the trick with all filmmaking, but the action genre in particular, is to show, not tell, as film is a visual medium. None of this Nolan-esque obsession with infinite exposition so the audience won’t ever be lost. Miller drives the audience head-first into the insanity, with a short chase scene that leads into yet another chase scene building up to an even BIGGER chase scene that will end up taking more than half of the film’s runtime. It’s quite admirable as well as shockingly to the point. The movie has been streamlined to the point that anyone can enter and enjoy the film as long as they are willing to accept the outlandish craziness of the post-apocalyptic Outback, where masked warlords rule over helpless refuse, stubborn drifters grunt and snarl rather than speak in sentences, and independent women are the most bad ass thing in sight.   Mad Max Fury Road 2

On the note of the women’s role in the film. There is a small, but loud audience of deluded man-children on social media claiming that FURY ROAD contains a sickening feminist agenda, poised to forcibly insert feminist ideals into the gung-ho, he-man world of action films. Yeah, because Aliens was totally ruined by the fact that Ellen Ripley was the main character of the film. Oh, and how dare Lara Croft be born female? All action protagonists must be born with male parts and no feminine qualities whatsoever! Ugh! Just of note, this is a film where the main villain is a tyrant and known sex-slaver, yet there is not a single scene of extravagant nudity or even a rape scene, which premium television apparently relishes, cough cough!

This film is joy. A pure, off-kilter, powerhouse of joy. And I have seen this film eight times au cinéma since its release. This has NEVER happened before. Hollywood, please acknowledge my humble request: Fire Michael Bay, Can Zack Snyder, Halt production on all movies, and then give them all to George Miller.