John Wick

I like Keanu Reeves.  He makes fun movies like 47 Ronin, he seems like a decent fellow, and he’s nice to Alex Winter. 

I think that Reeves’ greatest appeal as an older movie star (as opposed to his goofy early-20s persona) is his aura of detached, zen-like cool.  He seems like the embodiment of all those platitudes that show up on Facebook about being centered, and mindful, and in the moment.  Thus, it’s absolutely wonderful when, in the emotional climax of John Wick, he completely loses his cool and releases a howl of pain, rage, and vengefulness that shocks the complacent action-movie fan right out of his seat.

Here’s the setup: John Wick is the kind of unstoppable, nigh-invincible former hit man we’ve come to know and love as fans of the action genre.  Since all such characters must be either about to retire or actually in retirement, we meet him as he grieves for his recently-deceased wife and consoles himself by caring for an adorable puppy.  Then bad men come to steal his car and do mean things to his dog.  Vengeance must be had, so away we go for ninety or so minutes of fast cars, fisticuffs, and shooting people in the face.

There are lots of movies like this, but there are three things that make John Wick special.  First, there’s the aforementioned Mr. Reeves.  He’s perfect for this role, and his background in martial arts serves him well as he navigates the film’s hand-to-hand combat sequences.  Second, there’s the supporting cast, from primary antagonist Michael Nyqvist (of the original Girl with the Dragon Tattoo) to assorted members of John Wick’s stylized underworld including the nearly-always wonderful Willem Dafoe (whom I’m willing to forgive for The Grand Budapest Hotel), The Wire’s Lance Reddick, Deadwood’s Ian McShane, Games of Thrones’ Alfie Allen, and Chef’s John Leguizamo (and really, you must see Chef).  They prove, once again, that there are no small roles.  Each of them is note-perfect, and they add a sense of seriousness to what could be a very silly film.  

The hard work behind the camera really shows, as well.  Seasoned second-unit directors and stuntmen Chad Stahelski and David Leitch know how to set up and frame action so the viewer never loses track of who’s doing what to whom, where, and why.  As photographed by Jonathan Sela and edited by Elisabet Ronalds, John Wick does something almost unheard of: it eschews the jump-cut aesthetic of so much modern action filmmaking, and instead offers us longer takes that showcase the hard work of fight choreographer Jonathan Eusebio, the principle performers, and the stunt doubles who practice and practice and practice to make every fight look real, and visceral, and exciting.

As you can tell, I enjoyed the heck out of this movie.  John Wick is a great time at the movies and the start of what should be a lucrative franchise for Keanu Reeves.  Good for all involved, and good for him.  It couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.

Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides

When you sit down for Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides, you know exactly what you're getting: classical piratical adventure with swordfights, damsels, treasure, and men of questionable hygiene shouting "Yarrr!"

The film is competently made, it looks great, and I'm still not tired of Johnny Depp's Captain Jack Sparrow.  Toss in Penelope Cruz (CDNW) as a foil and love interest, and we have a recipe for high seas adventure that ought to be worth at least a few more entries.  Did POTC IV capture my imagination as well as the surprising Wrath of the Titans?  No, but it was just the thing to help me while away a couple of hours while riding as a passenger on a transpacific flight.  You could do worse.

Coraline

Walking out of CORALINE, my 8-yr-old said, "That was a different kind of scary. It wasn't scary like monsters scary, where you only lose your life. It was a scary where you can lose your existence." My response: "Is that a good scary?"

Make no mistake: CORALINE is, indeed, scary, and not in a CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON kind of way. It's as much creeping fear as horror show, and its marvelous visuals serve a tale that can send chills down the spine of child and parent alike. For while my child saw a story about a little girl who fights for souls, I saw a cautionary tale about the dangers of addiction.

Addiction - wha?

There's this episode of "The Wire" in which Sydnor is about to go undercover as a junkie. Bubbles says to him, "What's that on your hand? Take that off." Sydnor replies, "That's my wedding ring!" Bubbles: "Weddin' ring? You married to the spike now. Your wife, your kids, your job, your home - you fed it all to the spike. That weddin' ring was first to go."

In CORALINE, Coraline discovers her spike. She goes to it again again, taking what she thinks it has to give her. She doesn't understand what it's really offering and, by the time she does, she's nearly trapped. When the worm turns and she finds out who's really in charge (spoiler: it's not her), it takes everything she's got, and much that she does not, to win a chance of getting free.

It's heavy stuff, but it's wrapped up in a delightfully told, scary and sophisticated movie that entertained two people separated by a 32-year age difference. It's also scary stuff, but it's a good scary. Take it from my eight-yr-old.

Death Race

There are some actors out there who are in it for the paycheck. There are some who are in it solely to explore their art. There are some who explore their art when they can and take the paycheck when they must.

I guess Joan Allen had bills to pay.

I'm tempted to write that DEATH RACE is a bad, bad movie. Its races are incomprehensible agglomerations of gunfire, explosions, and quick-cuts that left me utterly mystified. When a movie's ostensibly about racing, even death racing, shouldn't one be able to tell who's in the lead, or even what's going on, without a ranking board popping up every now and then? Ms. Allen has a climactic outburst of villainy that was so ridiculous I nearly laughed. And don't get me started on the crime to Robin Shou's hair that this film represents.

But 40-year-olds with colds who can't muster the energy to do more than see a bad movie are not the target demographic of this particular film. The target demographic of this particular film is males aged 15-25. I saw this movie at an on-base movie theater at a naval airfield in Japan. The crowd was 100% male, and I'm pretty sure I was twice the age of the next-oldest guy there.

They loved it.

They cheered the explosions. They laughed at the comical kills. They howled at the pretty women. They hooted at the dialogue. Man, they ate DEATH RACE up. It was like their favorite video game come to life. On the way out, they chatted and laughed and high-fived and generally went home happy.

So, hey, if you're a 15-25 year old guy, you'll probably love DEATH RACE. If not, well, you'd better have one hell of a cold.

Kung Fu Panda

I flat-out loved KUNG FU PANDA.

I walked in expecting a mildly entertaining Dreamworks cartoon, but I got a legitimate wuxia film with heroic swords, scrolls of wisdom, and absolutely stunning fight choreography. "But wait," you say. "You hated HAPPY FEET in part because you claimed that you can't get into CGI dancing. You've written that kung movies are basically dance movies with fake blood. So why don't you hate CGI kung fu dancing?"

Umm, because this is better. HAPPY FEET never allowed me to suspend my disbelief, but I was able to accept KUNG FU PANDA as I might any story a parent may tell his or her child. Sure, the kung fu is fantastic, but hey, it's a fairy tale, so why not?

As a comedy, KUNG FU PANDA kept my kid laughing. But hey, my kid's an easy laugher so I'm more impressed by the fact that it kept me laughing from beginning to end. As an artwork, KUNG FU PANDA is nothing short of stunning. In fact, I have an image from the film as my desktop at the moment - it's just that beautiful. And as a wuxia picture, well, the second voice we hear is that of James Hong. What more need I say?

I think this picture will wind up in my top ten for the year. It's just that good. Color me surprised and delighted.

Hot Rod

HOT ROD is horrible, terrible movie. Even by the low, low standards of in-flight movies, this picture has the opposite of its intended effect: it makes time drag. When Isla Fisher and Will Arnett are in your movie and you don't know how to make (or let) them be funny, you have failed.

Here's the pitch: Rod is a pathetic loser who wants to (a) be a stuntman, (b) earn the love and respect of his stepfather, and (c) land the girl next door, but without too much sloppy kissing. First off, I've had it with "pathetic loser" quasi-retro-style teen comedies. Movie industry, accept that you will never, ever top SUPERBAD (I hear they've added more hops!) and move on. Second, I've had it with "comedies" that are just about people acting ridiculous, instead of people acting like people. Third, how is it possible that Fisher and Arnett have been reduced to dull, lifeless ciphers? I wouldn't have believed if I hadn't seen it. I'd have preferred not to believe it.

If you happen to be stuck on an airplane sometime in the next few weeks and this comes on, read SkyMall instead. It will be funnier.

Nine Lives

NINE LIVES is an ambitious picture. It's a series of twelve sometimes-connected vignettes, each of which centers on a turning point in a character's life. It tries something new, and for that I give it credit. Sadly, it fails.

The characters in NINE LIVES all speak like the same writer is creating their dialogue. The movie's various cast members act their hearts out, but their performances feel more like acting class exercises then real people. After reading Ebert's glowing review of the picture, I was all ready to settle down for a great experience. Unfortunately, NINE LIVES didn't deliver that for me.