Hulk

When the climax of your superhero movie comes down to two guys talking on a darkened stage, you know you have something special.

In The Hulk, Ang Lee has created a film that replicates the feeling of reading a comic book.  Its compositions deliberately recall the printed page.  Its wipes and transitions suggest the exuberance of a penciller in creative ecstasy.  Its villain kill qualifies among the top three villain kills of all time.

And yet, all that seems almost beside the point.  The Hulk is a film about emotions and their repression, and nothing engenders so much of both as family.  Bruce Banner’s family is about as dysfunctional as it gets, and he has coped with the ensuing trauma through repression and emotional distance.  As played by the extraordinary Eric Bana, he’s a coiled spring.  When he finally releases, when he lets go, it’s as chaotic and cathartic as an argument at Christmastime.

Ok, so hang on: is this a movie about an uptight guy who learns to get in touch with his emotions, or is it a movie about a giant green monster who breaks stuff?  I understand your confusion: I think audiences went in looking for the latter and felt similarly confused when confronted with the former.  But don’t get angry (I don’t think I’d like you when you’re angry): just dig The Hulk for what it is – a movie about an uptight guy who learns to get in touch with his emotions by turning into a giant green monster and breaking stuff.  By the time you get to those two guys on that darkened stage, you’ll have grooved on both tracks long enough to feel at home.  And when of those two guys literally starts chewing the scenery, you’ll be ready.

Road House

God help me, I actually liked ROAD HOUSE.

I'd been avoiding this movie for years, but it just wouldn't go away. By the looks of it, ROAD HOUSE had all the markings a lame action picture: GYMKATA with beer. So why didn't it die the quiet death of, say, BLACK DOG? My guess is that it's so awful that it's actually pretty good: Patrick Swayze dances his way to victory, Ben Gazzara intimidates townspeople with monster truck fu, Sam Elliott does his schtick with roughly half a moustache, and Kevin Tighe doesn't turn out to be the bad guy for perhaps the first time since "Emergency!"

Here's the setup: Tighe hires Swayze, a legendary bouncer, to clean up his road house and make it a going concern. Naturally, Swayze turns out to have a graduate degree in philosophy (What, you thought those guys got real jobs after graduation?), is a martial artist, and likes to do tai chi in the minimum possible clothing. Swayze's getting the bar staff under control is actually the most fun part of the movie: he's doing his best Louis Gosset Jr., shaping up the crew while intoning that "People don't want to come to a bloodbath." Before you know it, he's turned Tighe's funky little beer-and-a-shot joint into a soulless meat market, decorated in high '80s style. Then, of course, Swayze's butting heads with the local racketeer and monster truck fu afficionado, stuff is blowing up real good, Sam Elliott's providing guidance, and Kelly Lynch (aka the local ER doc) is swooning all over the new marshall in town.

Does that setup sound familiar to you? Yeah, it's basically half the westerns ever made, with the clever substitution of quasi-Asian philosophical mumbo jumbo and really bad synth music for stoicism and harmonicas. So, what's to like? The fights are a hoot, with all concerned appearing to be more concerned with not breaking a nail than putting the hurt on their opponents. The dialogue is corny and fun, the story beats comfortingly predictable, and the train clatters resolutely to its station, hitting every beat and and ending with a laugh.

Actually, the more I think about ROAD HOUSE, the less I find to like about it. But, there it is. Would I go out of my way to watch ROAD HOUSE again? No. Would I change the channel if I came across it in a hotel room somewhere? Probably not. It's cheesy, it's fun, it's kinda lame but, for whatever reason, it grew on me. Your mileage may vary.

Ghost Rider

I never read the “Ghost Rider” comic when I was a kid. The idea of a flaming skeleton on a motorcycle struck me as silly and, even though I knew all the words to “Ghost Riders in the Sky,” nothing about the comic captured my imagination. That lack of predisposition, coupled with its generally poor critical reception, ensured that GHOST RIDER would never find a place on my Netflix queue. When a co-worker of mine put the DVD in my hand and told me she was sure I’d like it, a nodded and smiled and figured this would be 1.5 hours of service to the ideal of office harmony.

Imagine my surprise when GHOST RIDER turned out to be a hell of a lot of fun. In fact, there are very few things in this movie not to like, from the Nicolas Cage’s over-the-top performance as the titular Ghost Rider to Eva Mendez’s Wonderbra’s up-top performance to Sam Elliott’s incredibly realistic and believable performance as Sam Elliott and His Amazing Moustache. The set design and art direction are fantastic, creating a detailed fantasy Southwest that’s full of mythology, foreboding, and flaming devil-bikes. The villains are pleasantly silly, the story soaked in Gothic Latino Catholic mythology, and the whole adventure just a great time at the movies.

Nicolas Cage has so much fun with this role, I’m surprised they paid him to do it. When you need an actor to convey insanity, delight, and fear (but mostly insanity), Cage is your man. When he first catches fire and becomes the Ghost Rider, he works that Crazy Cage look and laugh so effectively that he brought a big, goofy smile to my face. In fact, Cage makes this movie. He’s so much fun that when the Ghost Rider takes over and the movie switches to an animation-fest for its big battles, I actually felt let down. ‘Enough of the flaming skull,’ I thought. ‘Let’s get back to the crazy eyes!’

Eva Mendez, as the love interest, has very little to do here other than wear a half-unbuttoned blouse and get imperiled; but she’s very good at wearing a half-unbuttoned blouse. Sam Elliott, whose shirt remains fully buttoned throughout, does a fine Sam Elliott, and his presence lends authenticity and a sense of the mythic Southwest to the film. Let’s face it: nobody mounts a horse like Sam Elliott, and when he and Cage team up to race across the desert in pursuit of evil (to the tones of a pumped-up version of the Johnny Cash classic), you can’t not dig the groove.

Certainly, GHOST RIDER has its flaws. Donal Logue isn't given enough to do. The villains, from Mephistopheles on down, just aren’t that menacing – the Big Boss, named Blackheart (Wes Bentley), reminded me more of Spider-Manero than an emissary from my darkest nightmares. The action set-pieces are kind of dull (unless you’re really into video game cut-scenes), and whole thing feels like product. Nevertheless, GHOST RIDER is fun product, from the Leone-like standoffs to the loopy dialogue to the brazenly ignored gaps in logic. This is a movie that just wants to show you a nutty good time, and it succeeds.

Who’da thunk it.