By Brett Blake THE WOLVERINE is a really, really solid movie. Just shy of a great movie, even. That’s no doubt a big surprise for most people to hear, but I’m relieved to report that it’s true (or at least in my case it is). During the buildup for the film, the marketing campaign was uninspired (save for a few evocative posters of the variety you see to the left as you read this), and one couldn’t help but wonder if there was anything left in the tank, so-to-speak, for the character of Wolverine. Was there more story to tell? What situations could be applied to him that we haven’t already seen? On top of those questions, there’s also the issue of Wolverine’s last stand-alone picture, 2009’s X-MEN ORIGINS: WOLVERINE, which was almost universally disliked. For the record, I’m one of the three people in the known world who didn’t outright hate that film, but I’ll certainly concede that it damaged the Wolverine brand in the eyes of the population at large, and it’s a film I like less and less as time goes on. So, with all of that taken into account, I can’t stress how refreshingly good a movie THE WOLVERINE is. Taking its inspiration from a legendary comics miniseries by Frank Miller and Chris Claremont, this new film finds Logan/Wolverine (Hugh Jackman) traveling to Japan at the behest of a man whose life he saved during World War II. The proverbial “stranger in a strange land,” Logan must navigate foreign customs and the murky waters surrounding a wealthy Japanese industrialist and the intricate relationships between that man’s family and employees, as well as politicians and elements of the Japanese mob. Indeed, there are whole stretches of the movie where the storyline feels more like a straight urban crime thriller than a “superhero” story, and that’s a compliment, particularly as these components are surprisingly compelling, not simple filler material to pad out the plot between action setpieces. The character of Wolverine has been defined and owned by Hugh Jackman since he first took on the role in the first X-MEN film back in 2000, and it’s the kind of role that lives or dies with the charisma of its actor; luckily, the character has been in Jackman’s more than capable hands, and even in some of the series’ lesser entries, he’s always given it his all. That being said, this is easily - unquestionably - Jackman’s finest hour as Wolverine, primarily because it’s the first in the franchise that feels fully dedicated to examining the character’s wounded psyche. We find the character in a pretty low place, haunted by visions from his past, and frequently brooding over the things he’s done and the kind of man he is. That sort of stuff could get depressing real fast, but it’s handled with a delicate touch, and it provides Jackman some terrific scenes of true emotion. It helps that the screenplay actually puts some intriguing characters around Logan this time out, characters whose stories could almost support films of their own, no Wolverine needed. Perhaps the most pleasant surprises in that vein are the two female characters of Mariko (Tao Okamoto) and Yukio (Rila Fukushima); Logan’s relationships with these two women are the backbone of the story, and there are countless great character moments between them that really elevate the movie. These moments are not afterthoughts or window dressing, they’re key pieces of what the movie is trying to achieve, which is to ground itself in genuine human feeling. It’s kind of unfortunate that having two compelling women in a movie is reason to be “pleasantly surprised,” as that speaks to the depressingly lackluster female characters usually found in big-budget blockbusters, but that’s a subject for another column. I’ve seen the word “dark” bandied about when describing the tone of the movie, but I’d sort of disagree with that label; it’s not darker than the other X-MENs, so much as it’s a slightly more mature and complex take on Wolverine. He’s the same man we know, but the filmmakers have focused a more emotionally-realistic lens on him this time around. It’s an unusually thoughtful approach to a comic book movie, and although it might be hard to believe, THE WOLVERINE is more a character study with action movie overtones than an action movie that’s paying lip service to the characters and their emotional lives. That’s not to say that there isn’t much action, because there’s plenty, and it’s all pretty cool stuff. We get a variety of setpieces, from bigger-scale chase sequences, to more intimate fights. The fight choreography of the Japanese characters, in particular, adds an interesting flavor and color to contrast with Wolverine’s stab-and-slash method of dispatching his enemies. The action highlight of the movie is surely the sequence involving a fight on top of a speeding bullet train; it looked cheesy as hell in the trailers, but on the big screen it’s a blast, and one that doesn’t overstay its welcome or threaten to stop the movie in its tracks (pun intended). The movie is not without at least one giant flaw, and it appears in the form of its third act, which has some major problems, chief among these that it doesn’t feel like a conclusion to the movie that comes before it. It’s like the finale from a completely different film was surgically stitched onto the back end of the screenplay. The introspective quality of the first two-thirds goes out the window for a climax that basically devolves into a “What would happen if Wolverine fought a giant, Japanese-style, vaguely Iron Man-type robotic suit?” scenario. Going hand-in-hand with this, there’s the issue of the villains and their overall scheme, which is unimpressive. Without getting into too much detail, there were opportunities for the film to take the primary villain (here nameless for spoiler reasons) into some psychologically rich, even moving territory, as the movie sets up all the groundwork for that kind of cathartic ending earlier in the story, but it drops the ball. The ending doesn’t kill the movie dead, but it is somewhat disappointing. Even so, THE WOLVERINE is thoroughly enjoyable and entertaining, and although it doesn’t quite achieve full greatness, it gets more right about the character than any of the X-MEN films to date, and its thoughtfulness should be appreciated by discerning fans of comic book cinema. I sure appreciate it, at any rate.
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By Brett Blake Full disclosure: I am a person predisposed to enjoy a movie like THE CONJURING. I love horror films (and haunted house stories, particularly), and I have a familiarity with Ed and Lorraine Warren - the movie’s main characters - and their rather storied history in the paranormal investigation world. I suppose this is just my way of saying “Any opinions appearing herein could be taken with a grain of salt,” but I want to be honest - this movie knocked me out of my seat. I have no problem calling THE CONJURING the best American haunted house film since 1982’s POLTERGEIST. Admittedly, that might not appear to be saying all that much (the subgenre has a less-than-impressive roster), but I mean it as high praise. This is an intense, frightening ride that should work like gangbusters for fans of the genre. After a semi-James Bondian/Indiana Jonesish “Let’s see the conclusion of an unrelated adventure!” opening sequence that introduces the Warrens (portrayed by Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga) as effective demonologists/paranormal researchers and establishes the kind of tone we’re in for, the movie then moves on to detail the (supposedly true) trials of the Perron family (with Ron Livingston and Lili Taylor at the head) as they move into a new home. Almost right from the jump, strange occurrences begin to happen - ominous noises in the middle of the night, dead animals, stopped clocks. Things get more and more threatening, which leads the Perrons to track down the Warrens for help. That’s all I want to say, plot-wise; that’s not to imply that the film is hiding some kind of big twist, because it isn’t, but the exact nature of what’s going on in the Perrons’ house is something that’s best left discovered in the theater while watching the movie unfold. The acting, across the board, is excellent. As the Warrens, Wilson and Farmiga do a wonderful job of portraying these people as very normal folks, despite their unusual vocation. They’ve got a matter-of-fact way of explaining the supernatural to the people around them that is surprisingly compelling and endearing, and the strength that they derive from their religious foundation is treated seriously (and, again, matter-of-factly) by the movie when it easily could have been used to make them seem strange or caricatured. Livingston and Taylor do equally good work as the parents of the increasingly-tormented Perron family, and the five young actresses playing their daughters have to do some quite demanding emotional and physical stuff; they are entirely convincing, and are a big part of the reason the story works as well as it does - we care about all the people involved. Obviously, the most important standard by which a haunted house movie should be judged is whether or not it’s effective, and THE CONJURING certainly is that. From the get-go, director James Wan (of SAW and INSIDIOUS fame) establishes a palpable feeling of unease; similarly, there is an incredible atmosphere and mood that is very unsettling. Wan’s usage of camera movement and framing/shot composition is, frankly, superb throughout the film, never drawing attention to itself in a flashy, “look at me!” sort of way, but rather impressing with its creativity and (relative) restraint. Wan also deserves credit for the utterly classical approach he employs in terms of his filmmaking style. The movie is set in the early 1970s, and aside from a few tiny areas, it feels and looks like it could have been made back then. In addition to the classical approach, Wan also keeps things fairly classy in terms of content; the movie avoids cheese, sleaze, and graphic or gratuitous imagery at all costs. Much has been made about the fact that the movie has no profanity, no sex, and very little bloodshed, and yet still received an R rating from the ratings board, and I think that’s a testament to the movie’s overall success - it doesn’t need to use any of those things as crutches to keep the audience interested, or to freak them out. The movie definitely earns its R rating, however. It’s an incredibly intense experience, with moments of spectacular and sublime tension that increase in almost exponential severity as it barrels towards its climax. The movie utilizes the old horror movie standard, the “jump scare,” quite liberally, but most of them are delightfully effective. I pride myself on having seen enough scary movies that I can usually tell when a jump is coming (there’s usually a certain kind of editing rhythm to them that’s fairly easy for me to key into), but there were moments in this movie where I could FEEL a scare was about to happen… and it still got me anyway! Additionally, the jumps in this film tend to serve a larger purpose within the context of the scene in which they take place, and they frequently involve either clever misdirection or some neat, spooky bit of business, which helps transcend the sometimes cheap/easy nature of the jump scares you’d find in lesser horror movies. As with any film, of course there are flaws and nitpicks to be found if you’re looking. The musical score by Joseph Bishara is something of a mixed bag, for example, with the more ambient, atmospheric moments working very well, and the more bombastic sections coming across as unnecessarily bludgeoning and overdone. The ending is somewhat problematic (for reasons I can’t really get into), also; I don’t know what it is about this genre, but it seems like very few haunted house stories actually stick the landing. This one comes close, but there’s a certain abruptness to the climax (I’m treading carefully here) that could have been solved with just a few tweaks. A fairly minor complaint, as everything that comes before is aces. Again, I feel like I need to stress that I’m an easy mark for movies like this. Your personal mileage may vary, but I found THE CONJURING to be a well-made, enormously harrowing and chilling experience, and it’s one of my favorite films of the year. By Brett Blake PACIFIC RIM is exactly the movie you think it is, for good or bad. It’s gigantic robots fighting gigantic monsters, and that’s either a concept you’re interested in seeing brought to the screen, or it isn’t. If you’re one of those people whose eyes involuntarily roll upwards at such things, nothing I can say will change your mind, nor will I change the minds of those in the “ROBOTS! MONSTERS! FIGHTING! COOL!” camp. There’s probably very little middle ground with a film like this (it’s a love it/hate it kind of situation, I think), but while I definitely ended up on the side of enjoying the film a great deal, it’s nowhere near as groundbreaking or exceptional as some of its most ardent defenders in the critical community have made it out to be. The premise is simple enough. A rift between dimensions has opened up on the ocean floor in the Pacific ocean; through this portal comes a seemingly endless parade of giant monsters (called Kaiju) that wreak havoc along the world’s coastal cities. To defend mankind, the countries of the world build huge mechanized fighting vehicles (called Jaegers), which are piloted by two humans whose minds are connected in order to better operate the massive fighting machine. This is all the sort of stuff we’ve seen before, but what keeps the movie from being just another nondescript action flick where giant behemoths smash into each other for two hours is the human element, personified by the very capable cast. Charlie Hunnam and Rinko Kikuchi are called upon to carry the heaviest emotional load, and their evolving friendship feels well-earned, not just something slipped into the narrative as an afterthought. Idris Elba, portraying the commander in charge of the Jaeger program, pretty much owns every one of his scenes, and it’s a role he can add to the growing list of cinematic badasses he’s portrayed over the last few years. The supporting performances from the likes of Charlie Day (who looks like some kind of J.J. Abrams/Rick Moranis love child) and Rob Perlman add some comedic color to the story, as well. None of this is high drama, of course, but there’s a real concern with the human beings in this story that is refreshing in the age of slick, soulless entertainments. Any number of critiques could be leveled at the movie, but “soulless” is definitely not one of them. Visually, the movie is mighty impressive, with the numerous monsters having cool, distinctive designs, and their fights with the Jaegers make for some very fun action sequences, nearly all of which are punctuated by neat little “gracenote” moments that make them pretty memorable. The visual effects, though somewhat stylized, do a terrific job of selling the enormous scale of the creatures, and the sound design - one of the best of the year - is inventive and effective; every punch landed by the Jaegers booms through the theater, every roar of the Kaiju threatens to shatter the eardrums (but in a good way!). From a purely technical standpoint, PACIFIC RIM is a top-notch piece of summer cinema. The biggest issue with the movie is its third act, which is kicked off by a massive battle sequence set in Hong Kong. It’s a spectacular setpiece, one involving several different Jaegers and Kaiju, and it is a masterfully constructed, neon-and-rain-bathed series of monstrous fisticuffs. It’s the highlight of the film, but unfortunately there’s still a half hour to go; the actual proper climax of the film is surprisingly underwhelming, and another variation on the old trope of “We need to smuggle this bomb/device into the mothership/command center of our enemy” that we’ve seen many times before. It’s a nitpick, but coming off the crazy high of the Hong Kong fight, the movie just can’t quite reach that level of excitement again, and this anticlimactic feeling keeps the movie from being truly great. That said, I do give the filmmakers a lot of credit for not leaving things too open-ended at the climax; while a sequel could certainly follow (though that’s doubtful due to the movie’s box office take so far, but that’s another discussion), this film’s narrative is wrapped-up nicely, which allows the movie to seem like a complete and satisfying story (my misgivings about the actual climax itself aside). What is perhaps most striking about the movie is the way in which you can so obviously see its director in every frame. Director Guillermo del Toro’s formidable design fingerprints are all over this film, from the color palette to the production design. There’s a level of detail to everything that is kind of staggering; you can really tell that this “world” has been fully thought-out and realized down to the very smallest elements - the costumes of the background extras, the signage, the cockpits of the Jaegers… all feel completely plausible and of-a-piece. I expect the coffee table “Art of…” book (which has become a cross promotional staple of big blockbusters) would be filled with this stuff, and probably make for a fascinating way to pass a few hours. Beyond just the look, the movie bears del Toro’s signature in another significant way - it is utterly sincere about what it’s doing. PACIFIC RIM is completely lacking in cynicism, and it is made with palpable and genuine affection for its subject matter. On paper, giant robots and monsters are hard to take seriously, but del Toro does it, and without the film ever seeming like some grim slog. There’s an energy and excitement to the proceedings that makes the movie a lot of fun. By Brett Blake For those of a certain generation, the character of the Lone Ranger must certainly be a beloved and nostalgic figure. Through the golden age of radio - and then television - the exploits of John Reid and his faithful companion, Tonto, enthralled the masses with tales of adventures in the Old West, and while there have been some attempts to bring the character to the big screen over the past decades, none have been given the kind of royal treatment that his newest installment has received - an almost inconceivably-large budget, a veteran (and highly successful) producer/director tandem, and one of the world’s last remaining movie stars in one of the leading roles. The questions then become these: is the Lone Ranger still relevant in the age of the mega-blockbuster, and in attempting to use the character as a springboard to launch a new franchise, have the filmmakers actually made a movie that’s any good? The answer to both of those questions is, “Well, sorta…” THE LONE RANGER is far from the disaster most in movie review circles have been attempting to label it as, and there are the seeds of a truly great movie buried somewhere inside it. There’s more about it that is good than bad, but only just barely. It’s a frustrating kind of movie, because you can see the potential, but the execution is hit-and-miss. Taking a page from John Ford’s classic, THE MAN WHO SHOT LIBERTY VALANCE, this new version of the Lone Ranger character sees Armie Hammer’s John Reid as a literal man of the law - a lawyer (from the “big city!”) who returns to his childhood home with the hope of bringing some law and order with him. Through various plot machinations, Reid finds himself a masked vigilante looking to bring those who wronged him to justice, a quest which brings him in contact with Johnny Depp’s eccentric version of Tonto. Mayhem of all kinds ensues. As the title character, Hammer does a fine job; the script presents Reid as fully out of his depth, a guy who needs Tonto’s help and guidance. Some have claimed to see the character as bumbling, but I disagree; the movie certainly has fun with his “squareness,” but I think it also presents him as an admirable man with the right ideas about what “justice” means. Tonto, as portrayed by Depp, is a somewhat more uneven character. As the primary driver of the movie’s humor, he’s actually more understated than one might believe (this is not just another Captain Jack Sparrow performance), and his little asides are humorous up to a point, but there does come a time when the shtick does start to become a little bit grating. On the other hand, when he’s called upon to actually impart some pathos (in the moments dealing with Tonto’s backstory, as well as a framing device involving Tonto that is set in the 1930s), Depp does a very good job. The movie needed more straight-laced Depp, less goofball Depp, if you will. The screenplay is at the heart of the film’s problems on a couple of different fronts, the first being that it presents a very simple story in a needlessly convoluted manner; boiled down, the central conflict involves the encroachment of civilization into the frontier, as embodied by the concept of the railroad and the corrupt magnate in charge of it (a favorite subject of westerns). That’s a solid basis for a story, but the screenwriters apparently don’t feel that’s enough, so they pile on crooked U.S. Cavalry officers, cannibalistic outlaws, secret silver mines, and “false flag” type raids designed to start a war with the local Native American tribes. All that PLUS Tonto’s tragic backstory, which is given no small amount of screentime devoted to it. The end result of all this is a movie that feels almost painfully overstuffed, which is compounded by the leisurely 150 minute running time. You’d think this would give all those elements room to breathe, but it doesn’t; they’re still all jumbled together… just moving forward slowly. This isn’t a story that honestly needs two-and-a-half hours to be told, but that’s what we get. The movie is also notable for its questionable level of violence, which is frequently quite grim and grisly. I have no problem with this, personally, but the kind of activity that’s on display in the movie is highly surprising coming from a studio with as family-friendly a reputation as Disney; whole Native American tribes are Gatling-gunned to death, dozens-upon-dozens of outlaws, lawmen, and soldiers alike are blown away in shootouts, there are some just-barely-off-camera scalpings, and - for the coup de grâce - a still-living man has his heart cut out and eaten by one of our villains (punctuated by an onlooker vomiting at the sight - how charming!). It’s some nasty, nasty business, particularly for a movie aimed, at least partially, at children. The violence also creates some pronounced issues for the movie’s tone; there are elements of goofy comic relief that don’t fit in at all with the dark portrayal of bloodshed. Again, it goes back to the screenplay; the writers should have pushed the tone further into either a serious or comedic direction. As it stands, the film exists straddling those moods in wildly uneven fashion. After all that hand-wringing, let’s get to the good stuff, shall we? As I alluded to, THE LONE RANGER’s budget - the exact specifics of which remain a closely guarded secret - amounted to somewhere north of $250 million. I’m happy to report that literally every penny of that is up on the screen; this is a movie that looks absolutely incredible, from a design level to a cinematography level, and credit must be given to director Gore Verbinski and producer Jerry Bruckheimer. The movie is almost worth seeing for its look alone; it’s a big film and it looks it. Obviously there’s CGI to be found, but the amount of practical locations (Monument Valley - the ultimate western landscape - has never looked so beautiful), horses, armies, and trains is truly impressive. There aren’t many movies made on this kind of scale anymore. But what really elevates (and, in my opinion, basically saves) the movie is the staging of its action sequences. With his work on the PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN series, director Verbinski showed that he has a knack for inventive action, action that’s exciting and geographically-coherent, and that is certainly on display in this film. The final action sequence of THE LONE RANGER - encompassing a solid 15 minutes during the third act - is a truly ridiculous amount of fun, and packed to the gills with clever beats and bits of business. I was smiling throughout the scene, which involves two trains weaving in and around each other as characters jump and swing back and forth. I’m not being at all hyperbolic when I say that it could take its place amongst the very best setpieces of all time (certainly of recent memory) if only the rest of the movie was on the same level as its bravura and spectacular climax. On its own, though, it’s still a pretty remarkable piece of cinema, aided in no small part by composer Hans Zimmer’s strategic usage of the classic "William Tell Overture." THE LONE RANGER is flawed, to be sure, but it doesn’t deserve the daggers thrown its way, either. THE LONE RANGER is neither a great film, nor a bad one; there are good things about it, and some not-so-good things about it. But it’s never boring, it has personality, and it offers some genuine excitement at points. If that sounds like enough for you, give it a shot. If it doesn’t, don’t. The choice is yours. By Brett Blake The long-awaited (or perhaps not, if you're one of those people who thinks Pixar should get out of the franchise business) follow-up-in-reverse to 2001's MONSTERS, INC., MONSTERS UNIVERSITY is a worthy continuation of that film's world. I think it's arguably funnier than that film, but it doesn't as openly tug at your heartstrings (there's still some of that, however). In place of the more saccharine emotion, this film presents a surprisingly sophisticated and mature message, one that deals with the notion of questioning whether or not you're truly cut out to do with your life what you feel you were meant for, and the third act of the story explores that concept in a resonant way that I found quite wonderful and rich. Before we get there, though, we're treated to a terrifically entertaining encapsulation of just about every classic university-set comedy; the movie is not devoid of cliches, but it pulls them off in high style, and with some tremendous laughs along the way. The vocal performances are as energetic and emotive as you could hope for. The animation is right up to Pixar's unbelievably high standards, being dazzlingly colorful and detailed from the first frame to the last; additionally, the design and rendering of the university campus and its environs is great, evoking a sense of perpetual autumn that is quite lovely. I also want to single-out Randy Newman's music, which I think tops his work for the first film - he provides a fun collegiate type sound that meshes just right with the sentimentality. Many have have found MONSTERS UNIVERSITY to be another slightly downward step for Pixar, coming off the less-than-universally-loved CARS 2 and BRAVE (both of which I enjoyed to various degrees); is this movie "lesser" Pixar? Who knows and who cares? It's completely charming, and an awful lot of fun. |
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