John Carter

I was all set to give John Carter a fair shot.  I like and respect the previous work of its director, Andrew Stanton, I’m always up for a science fiction adventure, and the love interest is pretty.  For its part, John Carter did its best to wow me.  It had all the elements of an exciting story, it introduced cool creatures and civilizations, and it ended in a rousing battle of good vs. evil.  Unfortunately, the film felt flat.  It put me off right at the beginning, and I never could bring myself to invest in what was happening onscreen.

John Carter begins with two false starts.  They make sense by the time the closing credits roll, but they made me hesitate to commit once the main story got underway.  Once the story does get moving, we’re introduced to the eponymous Carter, realize it’s a year or two after the close of the Civil War, and learn that Carter was a Confederate cavalry officer in that war.  Judging by his conduct toward the U.S. Army officer who wants his help for something, we gather that he has a deep hatred for the Union and the soldiers who fought for it.

Ok, you lost me right there.  The Confederate cause, which they labeled “states’ rights,” was actually the right of states not only to choose to enslave human beings, but to extend the Peculiar Institution to newly chartered states and territories.  Screw anyone and everyone who was on board with that program.  [Personal aside #1: I have children in Florida public schools.  The Ellermann family position on the Civil War does not go over well.]  [Personal aside #2: I can’t wait to leave.]  John Carter didn’t bother to give its protagonist exculpatory dialogue, so I began the story in opposition to him.  When he finds himself on Mars and clapped into chains, I thought, “Serves him right.”

Dominic West, whom everyone who has seen ‘The Wire’ thinks is a great guy, plays the antagonist.  He’s a Martian warlord who’s supposed to be really evil, but is no more evil than any number of other conquerors in history.  Had John Carter allowed him to Rickman it up and have some fun, we might have enjoyed him.  He plays the material straight, however, which made our only grounds for opposition the fact that he meant to unify his planet. 

Unfortunately, I never had a reason to oppose his conquest beyond a general sense of “conquest is bad.”  The “good guy” city-state, led by the great Ciaran Hinds and represented by the remarkably attractive Lynn Collins, didn’t show me why it was better than Westville.  In fact, it was led by a moron and had a princess who was willing to sacrifice untold numbers of her subjects’ lives to avoid marrying someone she didn’t like because “that’s no way to live.”  Sure thing, lady.  Tell it to the widows and orphans of the men you sacrificed on the altar of your quality of life.  The other sentient race we met, which also feared Western domination, was brutish and nasty and could have used a little Baltimore justice.

And away we go, I guess.  John Carter does a fish-out-of water thing when Carter first arrives on the planet, then kicks over to a reluctant hero narrative with space monsters and a princess whose costume design could have used a little more Frazetta and little less drapery.  It has sword fights and laser beams and betrayals and heroics and all the hallmarks of a grand adventure, but I never had a dog in the fight.

I’ve seen Stanton run rings around stories like this in Toy Story, Finding Nemo, and WALL-E. Next time around, here’s hoping he returns to form and gives us heroes we can root for, villains we can love to hate, an adventure we can get into, and some depth of meaning.  Unfortunately, John Carter simply does not deliver.

Tigerland

Tigerland is your mark one, mod zero movie about a rebellious military draftee sticking it to The Man.  Unlike Catch-22, which has something to say about the arbitrary nature of life and death or M*A*S*H, which is laugh-out-loud funny, Tigerland only succeeds in showcasing a petulant jerk and trying to make a hero of him.

Colin Farrell plays the jerk, a Vietnam-era draftee trying his best to fail out of infantry school.  He’s amused to find himself in the middle of a “platoon movie,” complete with earnest writer, redneck sociopath, doo-wop group, reluctant hero, and even good- and bad-guy sergeants (As with most platoon movies, Tigerland is actually about a squad.  Platoons consist of 36 people, squads 12.  36 characters are just too many for most films to handle.). He intentionally misses targets on the range.  He sabotages equipment.  He undermines his unit’s training at every opportunity.  Of course, he’s a natural soldier and a brilliant leader and could save lives in country if only he’d apply himself.  I was supposed to root for him.  Instead, I spent the film thinking, “I’m sure glad we don’t have a draft any more.”

See, the problem with a draft is that it forces a military organization to deal with people who don’t want to be there.  It’s hard enough to train, motivate, and discipline volunteers.  Once you have to waste time corralling troublemakers you can’t simply release for fear of opening a floodgate of calculated insubordination, you can’t get that time back for teaching your people they skills they need to survive and execute your mission.

So I never bought into the movie.  I didn’t accept its “screw the Army” ethos.  I didn’t believe in its characters any more than it did (The Reluctant Hero actually says, “What do you think I am, the Reluctant Hero?” I rolled my eyes.).  I spent more time ruminating on the draft than I did caught up in the narrative.  Tigerland just did not work for me.