Showing posts with label Sandra Bullock. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sandra Bullock. Show all posts

Thursday, June 09, 2016

Captain America: Civil War, The Heat, The Nice Guys, Sicario

Friends, I've been taking a break from flying to work on a special project.  No flying = fewer nights in hotel rooms, pecking away at my keyboard.  Still, here are some short notes on some films I've seen these last few weeks.

Captain America: Civil War


Captain America: Civil War features a battle between different factions of The Avengers, the team of superheroes we in the audience have come to root for over the course of Marvel’s films.  It marks the first time I’ve ever felt conflicted watching one of these superfights, and that is a remarkable achievement.  In this fight, nobody’s evil; nobody wants to kill anybody; everyone just wants it to stop.

It's heartbreaking.

“Heartbreaking” isn’t a word I’d ever expected to write in regards to a superhero movie, but there it is.  Civil War presents us with an “everyone’s right” scenario that forces noble people into a conflict they don’t want and that can’t be resolved with a simple, “Old Man Withers is the real villain here” reveal.  That’s the stuff of heartbreak.  Well done.

The Heat

The Heat is a simple buddy-cop comedy elevated by sharp writing and the significant talents of Melissa McCarthy and Sandra Bullock.  It’s laugh-out-loud funny, moves right along, and practically begs for a sequel.  Sign me up.

The Nice Guys

Shane Black can do no wrong.

Sicario


Sicario stars Emily Blunt as an FBI agent with PTSD.  She’s in the middle of a major counter-drug operation, however, so she doesn’t have time to deal with it.  This leaves her accruing more and more damage as the film progresses, lending a harrowing shading to an otherwise unremarkable film about ultraviolent cartels and the agencies who combat them.

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Minions

We’re 2/3 of the way through Minions.  Nobody’s laughing.  Families have walked out.  My 8-year-old is reading his popcorn box.  My wife leans over and whispers, “Will this movie never end?”  I whisper back, “Two words: catastrophic failure.”

The film begins with a short history of minions, little yellow thumb-like creatures who live to serve villains.  It shows them serving a cute T-Rex, then accidentally tipping it over into boiling lava.  This is played for laughs, but nobody laughs because there’s nothing funny about falling into a pit of molten lava.  Later, it shows them serving an Egyptian pharaoh, then accidentally tipping over a carefully balanced inverted pyramid and crushing their master and his party underneath.  Again, this is played for laughs.  Nobody laughs because there’s nothing funny about being crushed to death.  Later in the film, there’s a long sequence involving hijinks in a torture chamber.  Again, nobody laughs.  With the notable exception of The Princess Bride, there’s nothing funny about torture chambers.

The whole film is filled with missteps such as these.  The bulk of the action’s set in late ‘60s / early ‘70s London, a time as alien to the average 8-year-old as medieval China.    There’s gag after gag taking the wind out of hippie culture.  There’s a Jimi Hendrix joke, complete with guitar lick, and even an “Abbey Road” cover photo joke with a complete setup, payoff, and denouement.   All this must have seemed wonderfully amusing to whatever 67-year-old executive greenlit the film, but it was lost on the young families in my theater.  I just sat there wondering who this movie was actually supposed to be for.


And yet, when the credits rolled, my 8-year-old and his friends declared that they loved it; so what do I know?  All I can say is the Minions is the worst film I, personally, have seen so far this year.

Friday, November 07, 2014

Gravity

If Thor: The Dark World is a film to watch while folding socks, Gravity is one that rewards the viewer’s full attention.  Gravity is beautiful, awe inspiring, and captivating.  It’s the kind of movie that’ll make you spring for the biggest, best 3-D TV you can afford, then hope for an IMAX revival run.

The film begins in orbit, with first-time astronaut Sandra Bullock trying to fix a malfunctioning circuit board outside the Hubble Space Telescope; while salty spacewalker George Clooney enjoys the moment.  As the trailers indicate, this routine mission comes to a catastrophic end when remnants of a destroyed Russian satellite collide with the Telescope and the astronauts’ space shuttle.
So begins a tense, exhilarating survival tale.  One is hard-pressed to imagine a more unforgiving environment than space, but these characters are smart, capable, resourceful professionals.  What a pleasure to watch a film not about screaming morons, but about adults dealing with stresses that push them to their breaking points.

I don’t want to say more about the story for fear of giving away plot points, so I’ll write that director Alfonso Cuarón and cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki (working, of course, with a huge team) have created the most beautiful film I’ve seen since Aronofsky’s The Fountain.  In addition to the virtuoso opening sequence, Gravity offers moments (such as that featured in the photo) of remarkable beauty coupled with thematic resonance.  This is wonderful stuff, the very epitome of mainstream filmmaking.


In other words, Gravity is a masterpiece.  I only wish I’d seen it in IMAX 3D.

Monday, October 23, 2006

Crash

I finally saw CRASH last night, and I'll add my voice to the general chorus of disdain.

I don't require that the films I see have people like those I know in real life. I don't require that they have characters who speak like those I know in real life. I do, however, require that, unless the movies feature balrogs or wookies or toupeed actors screaming "Khaaaaaann!", they have people that could, conceivably, walk the earth.

I'm sure Paul Haggis is a nice man, but his film feels like something written by a guy who never leaves his gated community. People just don't talk about race the way these people talk about race. White politicos don't complain about "these friggin' black people;" they simply forget to plan for their evacuation. Coincidence does not, in fact, pile on coincidence like a poorly constructed Jenga stack. CRASH does not take place in a world I recognize.