Thor: The Dark World

I didn’t care for Thor (see my review).  It was a movie about people I didn’t care about fighting for stakes that didn’t matter.

I’m pleased to report that Thor: The Dark World fixes its predecessor’s faults.  This time around, the titular Thor is an interesting guy fighting a threatening villain over something worthy of the effort.  Both hero Chris Hemsworth and nemesis Tom Hiddleston have found their groove.  Villain of the Week Christopher Eccleston seems a credible threat to the universe in general and Earth in particular.  Even previously misused Natalie Portman comes across as competent and capable, as opposed to just another Pauline.  The action sequences pop, the jokes land, and everything hangs together.

I admit, I watched most of Thor: The Dark World while troubleshooting a technical issue with one of my gadgets, but that’s ok.  This is light action entertainment, perfectly fine to play in the background while folding socks or debugging code.  Let’s just forget the first outing even existed.

Pacific Rim; To Rome with Love

Pacific Rim

I'm a big fan of Guillermo del Toro's, and I'll see nearly any movie with Ron Perlman in it on general principle. Seriously – Pan's Labyrinth ranks among the best movies I've ever seen, and you just have to check out this Facebook page about Ron Perlman donning the Hellboy makeup to make a little kid's day.

That said, I found Pacific Rim to be a below-average film in del Toro's ouvre. Yes, it features cool monsters, cool giant robot—thingies to fight the monsters, and Idris Elba selling the heck out of a poorly written motivational speech. But the script needed a few more passes. The hero's journey was simplistic, the story routine, and the whole thing lacked depth.

Nevertheless, Pacific Rim gave a great filmmaker the chance to play with some really neat toys and included a Ron Perlman supporting role that just made the movie. All that, and my boys dug it. At the end of the day, that'll do.

To Rome with Love

I'm a Woody Allen fan. Here's someone who makes films that reflect his vision, as opposed to lowest-common-denominator pablum. Often, as was the case with Midnight in Paris, this results in magic. Sometimes, as with To Rome with Love, it results in a middling effort that, while reasonably entertaining, doesn't hit the sweet spot.

Why not? Well, the film's interlocking stories aren't particularly interesting. When I was with one set of characters, I didn't feel any particular need to get to the next set. In fact, each transition had me thinking, “Ok, who are these people? Why should I care about them again?” With two exceptions, I found that I couldn't find reasons to care. The first exception came in the form of Penelope Cruz, whom I'd watch doing the dishes for two hours. The second came in the form of Judy Davis, the most interesting character in the movie. She plays Woody Allen's long suffering wife with wit, style, and all the best lines. Come to think of it, I'd much rather have seen Judy's Adventures in Rome than the movie I got.

At least the film works as a travelogue. Rome is a city every bit as wonderful as it's cracked up to be, and Cinematographer Darius Khondji does it justice. I just wish that great work had been in service to a better movie.

Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance

I love Nicolas Cage.  He's a gifted actor who can play it straight, as we saw in Leaving Las Vegas, but who seems to feel most at home going over the top.  Some may see his performances as so many antic pantomimes, but I think Cage has the unique ability to channel and express pure, unadulterated id.

Thus, I present to you Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance, an international production that seems to have been created for the sole purpose of fleecing as many foreign investors as possible.  I loved the first Ghost Rider, feeling that Cage's crazy eyes alone were worth the price of admission.  In this iteration, Cage's Johnny Blaze lives in a place labelled "Eastern Europe," but which could only be Bulgaria (Which leads one to wonder, why not have the subtitle simply read Bulgaria?  Would that be too confusing?).  He's a hermit, fighting his ghost rider - hood like a deadly addiction.  But then Idris Elba shows up to make him a deal.  I'm here to tell you, when Idris Elba offers you a deal, you take it.

The deal?  Oh, it's it's some mumbo-jumbo about an ancient prophecy (one of the laziest screenwriting tropes of them all), a sacrificial child who must be saved, and the Devil (Ciaran Hinds, having a great time).  Did I mention that the child has a fetching mother with a cute Bulgarian accent?  Or that her ex is a demon of decay who can only eat twinkies (Hey, I laughed.)?

Why bother with all this setup?  Well, two hours of Cage in a studio making crazy eyes at the camera sounds great in theory, but a little narrative structure, some scenery, and a few gags make for a much more interesting mix.  And all this does its job, but let's face it:  you came for the id.  You came for the crazy eyes, and Cage delivers in spades.  He doesn't overact so much as überact (I'm telling you, when you can make Christopher Lambert look like a restrained thespian, you're on to something.).  His Johnny Blaze carries the crazy just below the surface.  When it starts to break through and transform him into the Rider, the film uses a clever combination of (first-rate) CGI and no-limits acting to give us the joy of letting go and letting our fires burn.

Bottom line: this movie is fantastic.  Even if it only served as an excuse for actors you like to ham it up, it'd work.  The fact that it lets the great Nicholas Cage cut loose in a symphony of 'splosions and loud music makes it that much better.  I dare you to watch Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance without a great big smile plastered across your face.  This is an exuberant, wacky, gloriously unrestrained time at the movies.  I give it two big, burning, skeletal thumbs up.

Prometheus

I have mixed feelings about Prometheus.  I love its look, its feel, its ambition.  I appreciate its casting of serious, high-quality actors.  However, its screenplay needed a few more passes before it was ready to go into production.

Prometheus weds a big budget to a high concept.  Its sets are magnificent, its world dazzling.  I saw this film in 3-D, mostly because an old friend of mine was one of the camera techs, and the effects were more immersive than distracting.  Add the casting of proven performers like Charlize Theron, Idris Elba, Michael Fassbender, and Guy Pearce, and this looks and feels like elite work.  The concept, well, we’re talking about finding the origin of human life on Earth, and the film’s characters have the kind of existential questions director Ridley Scott tackled in his classic Blade Runner: “Where do we come from?  Why are we here?  Why can’t we have more time?”  While we have mixed feelings about the answers the film provides or withholds, we have to credit the production with going after them.

Prometheus gets so many things right that it’s a shame the picture can’t keep our suspension of disbelief alive.  As the audience in a science fiction movie, we walk in willing to believe in technologies that defy the known laws of physics.  We can’t, however, believe in people that don’t act like people or in organisms that can, say, grow without eating.

One of the great things about Ridley Scott’s Alien was that it took things a while to get going.  We go to know the crew of the Nostromo not by having them stand up and recite their bios, but just by following them around for a while.  Once we knew them, we cared about them and believed in their story.  Prometheus gives us an implausible roll call followed by a mission briefing PowerPoint set after the ship has reached its destination, and –bang- we’re into the action.  We in the audience are left thinking, “Really?  These people are just now meeting each other for the first time?  Did they not chat while they were loading their stuff aboard back on Earth?  Oh, and how is it possible that any scientist would sign up for a long, potentially career-derailing, mission without knowing what’s involved?”  So we’re left with thumbnail sketches:  there are Redshirt One, Redshirt Two, Redshirt Three, and Redshirt Four, plus the actors whom we recognize.  Once they’re on Planet Danger, they begin acting in ways that violate even what little we do know about them: the biologist who signed up for a space journey freaks out at the prospect of alien life, then actually tries to pet a scary space-snake.  The geologist runs away from someplace he finds terrifying, only to seek refuge in the exact same place for no real reason.  These examples come right off the top of my head, and the more I think the more I recall.  How can I believe in the plight of these people if I don’t believe they’re people?   (Note: Michael Fassbender’s android character is the most consistent and fully realized of the bunch.  It’s possible that the film’s saying the android is more human than the humans, but that’s the kind of thing you think of later.  While you’re watching the film, you’re thinking, “This doesn’t make sense.”  From there, it’s a short step to “I call BS.”)  And then there’s the funky biology: creatures in this universe appear to have the ability to metabolize thin air.  Humans in this universe can undergo massively invasive abdominal surgery, then run, climb, fight, and singlehandedly rappel fifty feet without tearing open the wound and bleeding out.  And the list goes on.

And that’s the thing about Prometheus.  Those big ideas?  They’re really cool.  That art direction?  That set, costume, and creature design?  Really really cool.  The performances?  The world-class cast acts the heck out of the material, and Michael Fassbender continues his steady march toward Can Do No Wrong status.

But the writing isn’t there.  The characters feel like characters, and the revelations provide more WTH moments than “Oh, wow!” moments.  Prometheus excels at all the “elite filmmaking” stuff, but it stumbles on the fundamentals.  This could have been a great, fascinating, entertaining and wonderful classic that melded the best of Alien and Blade Runner into a rousing, challenging, enriching whole.  Instead, it’s a beautiful failure.  I wanted to love Prometheus.  I was ready to love Prometheus.  I couldn’t love Prometheus.

Thor

I didn’t care about Thor, so I didn’t care about Thor.  Since I didn’t care about Thor, I didn’t care about Thor’s antagonist, his love interest, his friends, or his problems.  You know who I did care about?  Agent Coulson, the guy who appeared to be Samuel L. Jackson’s #2 at SHIELD, which was sorta the FBI for superhero stuff.  He played a minor role in Thor, but I’d go to see a movie about him.

Here’s the problem: Thor (a totally ‘roided out Chris Hemsworth – I mean, really: compare a photo of him from the Star Trek reboot with a photo of him from this film) is a god.  Yeah, the film presents him as super sci fi bs alien, but he’s basically a god.  Not only is he a god, but he’s a dick of a god.  He’s obnoxious and egotistical and has a lot to learn.  The film is all about him learning to not be such a dick, but so what?  Show me a movie about a guy who isn’t a dick in the first place.

Natalie Portman plays Thor’s love interest, a graduate student in physics with her own ‘roided out Land Rover, her own supercool lab, and her own sidekick.  When I was a grad student, I could barely afford ramen.  How was I supposed to care about this magic princess scientist, doing research in her fantasy world?  Now, fine, I know what you’re thinking: this is Natalie Portman we’re talking about.  I don’t contest that she’s an absolutely outstanding actress, but this film gives her nothing to do, really.  Any reasonably competent, age-appropriate actress could have played this role (that is, pretty girl who digs ‘roided out guys who are dicks).  I doubt I’d have believed in any of them.

Thor’s friends?  Hey, they’re gods, too!  One’s a younger version of Xena, one looks like a youthful Cary Elwes with silly facial hair, one’s a glutton, and one’s just a guy with a mace who doesn’t even do anything cool.  I couldn’t relate to any of these gods.  If I met them socially, I wouldn’t like them and they wouldn’t like me.  Why should I care about them?

Loki’s the antagonist, here presented as Thor’s brother and, essentially, the nerd to Thor’s jock.  Problem is, he’s a god, too, so his problems also aren’t my problems.  What are his problems?  I’m not entirely sure (Well, he does wear a goofy helmet, and there have been times in my life when I could relate to that.).  Is he consumed with jealousy?  Is he ambitious?  Self-hating?  How ‘bout just plain evil?  I don’t know, and neither does the film.  It keeps changing.

Ok, so I didn’t like the characters.  What was so bad about Thor’s problems? I didn’t feel like I had a dog in the fight.  Since I didn’t care about Thor, I didn’t care whether he or Loki sat on the throne of Asgard.  Yeah, there was some stuff in there about evil frost giants, but I didn’t see them as a threat to Earth, so what exactly were the stakes for me?  I’ll tell you: zippy.

And yet, Thor manages to stay marginally entertaining for a couple of hours, thanks primarily to Kenneth Branagh’s direction and the presence of one Agent Coulson of SHIELD, assayed by Clark Gregg.  Coulson’s an actual human being, a disciplined and efficient government agent bringing cold federal processes to a fantastical world of heroes and monsters.  Now, that’s interesting.  I want to know more about this guy: where does he come from?  How’d he get into this business?  What does he think of all this craziness?  There’s your movie.

Generally speaking, I enjoy spectacular action movies.  I wanted to get into Thor.  It looked pretty, lots of stuff blew up real good, and Natalie Portman did bite her lip once or twice.  But I needed more.  I needed some skin in the game.  I needed to care.

RocknRolla

ROCK N ROLLA is a great time at the movies.

Like LOCK, STOCK, AND TWO SMOKING BARRELS, ROCKNROLLA is a British thug drama, though drama may be the wrong word. This isn’t a film about the human condition, and it isn’t a film about real people with real problems. It’s a game, a Rube Goldberg device, a chance to set up a bunch of characters in impossible situations and see how everything works itself out. And while that kind of movie can be a grinding bore of plot machination, ROCK N ROLLA hums like a finely tuned engine.

Why? I’ll chalk it up to two things: witty and well-written dialogue, and propulsive direction and editing. The dialogue seems like the kind of stuff that I’d enjoy reading as much as seeing performed, though the performances (by “The Wire”’s Idris Elba, Gerard Butler, Thandie Newton, and Tom Wilkinson, among others, do it credit. The direction and editing, which combine for the look of the film, are alive with energy and excitement, like the kind of storyteller
who’s so caught in the moment that the words tumble out of him at nearly the speed of thought.

So here I am, four paragraphs in (if you count the lede), and I have yet to say what the movie is actually about. You know what? It doesn’t matter what the movie’s about, any more than it matters what a good storyteller’s tale is actually about. What matters is that it’s a tale from a good storyteller.

That’s enough for me.