Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer

Y’know what I liked about the FANTASTIC FOUR: RISE OF THE SILVER SURFER? Its sense of fun. This film takes plenty of time for gags, and this lightness works toward creating a pleasant, rather innocuous entry in the series.

The Silver Surfer, who actually looks more like a mercury surfer, is an extraterrestrial being who, um, surfs around the galaxy preparing life-bearing planets for consumption at the hands of another, larger extraterrestrial being. When he shows up on Earth, its up to the Fantastic Four, with a combination of help and interference from old nemeses Victor von Doom and some U.S. Army general with Canadian jump wings and jurisdiction in London and Siberia. (Aside: Andre Braugher plays the general. Whenever I see him, I recall the top-notch Iago he played in a production of Othello opposite Avery Brooks. Suffice it to say that Iago is a more interesting character than the stock “military guy as imagined by people who’ve never been in the military” he’s stuck with here.)

That’s a fine setup for a superhero movie, but what makes F2S2 a pleasant time at the movies is the interaction between the members of the Fantastic Four. These people care about one another, and I enjoyed their interactions as they tried to both save the world and lift one another up.

Is F2S2 a particularly good movie? Not really, and I’d skip right by it if I ran across it on a hotel TV. But it’s fine and, if your kids want to watch it, it won’t kill you to sit down and watch it with them. Tepid praise, but praise nonetheless.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX is true to its source material. OTP is the dourest, least entertaining of the novels up to that point, and the film is no different. It’s dour because not only does Harry feel angry and isolated, but this film takes all the wonder out of Harry’s magical world, leaving us to contemplate accepting previously unimaginable magical occurrences as everyday events. Of course, this is happening to Harry as he grows into manhood, but it’s still a bit sad to see.

This is usually the part where I recount the movie’s hook, but why bother? It’s Harry against yet another Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, with Voldy pulling the strings. There’s some stuff about teamwork and the importance of friendship, but this film feels most like a trudge through required setup material for the last act of the series. It quickly checks in with the major characters, not giving us enough of any of them to make them worth our while. The final battle feels devoid of resonance, and I just couldn’t bring myself to care.

By far, HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX is the least satisfying movie of the series. Let’s hope things improve with the next outing.

Fun side note

The Blogger software has suddenly decided that I can read Kanjji. It's a good thing I've been doing this for a while, because all the back-end stuff is now in Japanese, and I can go only by a vague memory of which colored buttons do what.

As You Like It

I was all set to fall in love with Kenneth Branagh’s direct-to-video AS YOU LIKE IT, set in a trading colony in Meiji Japan. I’ve been a fan of Branagh’s work since I saw HENRY V in college, and I’ve had a thing for Japanese culture since I read James Clavell’s _Shogun_ in the 7th grade. Thus, when I fired up this version of AS YOU LIKE IT while staying in a hotel outside of Yokohama (coincidentally, the site of the Meiji trading colony), it seemed like the perfect combination of material and viewer.

Alas, not even Brian Blessed, Alfred Molina, and Kevin Kline could save this slow, plodding, and unsatisfying film. The film’s Anglo-Japanese setting doesn’t really work, its pacing could have used some help in the editing room, and I had a sense of the film’s self awareness that this was, indeed, Shakespeareit was giving us. As written, AS YOU LIKE IT is great fun, but this production seems to miss the point.

I’m not sure what’s happening with Branagh. His star shined so brightly, but it has been guttering these last several years. Where’s the confident, exciting filmmaker of HENRY V, DEAD AGAIN, and MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING? I haven’t seen his remake of SLEUTH yet, but Time magazine’s impression does not look promising. What did he lose along the way?

Well, whatever he lost, he didn’t find it while making this latest AS YOU LIKE IT. Move along. There’s nothing to see here.

Death Proof

Kurt Russell, often the best thing about whichever movie he’s in, is easily the best thing about DEATH PROOF, Quentin Tarantino’s half of the GRINDHOUSE experiment. As the homicidal Stuntman Mike, he’s as charming, creepy, scary, pathetic, and just plain fun a villain as you could ask for. And he’s giving us this role in a film that defies narrative convention, dazzles with great practical stunts, and makes for a great time at the movies.

Here’s the deal: Stuntman Mike’s into vehicular homicide, using his superlative driving and technical skills to kill his female victims. When he targets a vehicle carrying stuntwomen, however, things don’t go his way.

And that’s pretty much it. The rest is a fun and creative misdirection gambit and an extraordinary sequence of stunts in, on, around, and with cars. It’s exciting, vibrant work, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Bring on more evil Kurt Russell!

Planet Terror

PLANET TERROR, Robert Rodriguez’s half of the GRINDHOUSE experiment, opens with a trailer for a Danny Trejo vehicle called MACHETE. Pay no attention to the fact that there is no actual Danny Trego vehicle named MACHETE. The trailer is enough, and the trailer alone makes PLANET TERROR worth watching. What about the feature? Well, I can tell you everything you need to know about the feature by asking you how you reacted to the posters and trailer for the film. If the image of a woman in a miniskirt with a machine gun / rocket launcher / flamethrower prosthetic leg doesn’t work for you, then PLANET TERROR has nothing to offer. If, however, that’s enough to get you to queue it up, then stand by.

You gotcher zombies. You gotcher sexy nurses. You gotcher gunplay. You gotcher Monster Bruce Willis. Hell, you even gotcher Michael Biehn. If that isn’t enough to satisfy your moviegoing jones, what the hell were you doing renting a movie whose cover featured a woman in a miniskirt with a machine gun / rocket launcher / flamethrower prosthetic leg, anyway?

So, PLANET TERROR. It is what it is, and it’s a whole lotta fun. Try it with barbecue.

The Kingdom

THE KINGDOM, a mystery / cultural thriller set in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, follows an FBI team that receives permission from the Saudi royal family to assist in investigating a terrorist attack on Westerners living in a company compound. Complications ensue, and we’re on our way to great investigation of the clash of Muslim and Western culture. That is, until director Peter Berg decides that we in the audience are idiots who won’t sit still for a good story unless a kickass gun battle breaks out.

I’ve spent a fair amount of time in the United Arab Emirates, but I’ll admit to a bit of cultural prejudice. While I’ve never been treated with anything other than friendliness and respect, I never walk down the street without maintaining a complete scan of my environment and I never walk down back alleys. And that’s the UAE, where Saudis come to party. THE KINGDOM takes the sense of unease a Westerner can feel in a Gulf State and dials it up to eleven, perfectly capturing that sense of alertness, that sense of feeling like a somewhat unwelcome guest who’ll be tolerated nonetheless.

And then it throws the achievement away with a professional but pedestrian climactic battle that, seemingly, comes out of nowhere. Here we are plumbing the subtleties of the Arab mind and having a fine time doing it, then it’s all RPGs and bubblegum philosophy about turning the other cheek. Ah, well.

Two observations that I couldn’t manage to work into the body of the review: #1, Danny Elfman’s score is phenomenal. #2, Danny Huston’s “slimy guy” schtick is getting old. C’mon, Danny, you were great in THE PROPOSITION! Choose more roles that show off your range!

1408

1408 is my kind of horror movie. It isn’t about slashers or monsters or natural disasters. It’s about a good, old-fashioned haunting and the fear and foreboding that haunting is all about.

John Cusack delivers a first-rate performance as a jaded writer who pumps out quickie books / travel guides on haunted hotels. When he receives a mysterious postcard from the Dolphin Hotel warning him to not enter Room 1408, he takes it as a personal challenge. Soon he’s meeting hotel manager Samuel L. Jackson, who does his best to warn the writer off his project of spending a night in 1408. General note for living: when Samuel L. Jackson is afraid of something, your punk ass better be afraid of it, too.

But Cusack is undeterred, and into 1408 he goes. And then the haunting begins. From apparitions of the room’s many suicides to jump-scare shots of Clint Howard appearing out of nowhere (And hey, what isn’t more terrifying than having to share a hotel room with Clint Howard?) to a final showdown that makes us fear poor John might wind up like poor Jack from another Stephen King haunted hotel movie, 1408 does a marvelous job of keeping the viewer on edge, off balance, and delightfully scared.

I didn’t expect much from 1408, but I got the best mainstream haunting movie since THE OTHERS. What a pleasant surprise.

Death Sentence

I saw DEATH SENTENCE a couple of days ago, and already I can only barely remember it.

DEATH SENTENCE is a variation of the "I love my family. But, if I could be unencumbered, imagine all the kickass stuff I could do!" story. For kids, this story often begins with a separation or orphaning. For adults, it's death or sudden divorce. In this case, it's death: Kevin Bacon is a professional, family guy. His older son is killed in a robbery, and he seeks revenge. When the bad guys come after his family, he's freed to unleash his inner Rambo.

That's fine, and Bacon is as good as usual. But the movie itself has serious flaws. Director James Wan's failures to establish geography leave audiences confused during chase and stalking sequences: who is where, and who is winning? Its bombastic use of color and set design (There's a sequence in a church that lacked only John Woo's flying doves.) distracts us from the film and calls too much attention to the filmmakers. Its use of shaky-cam during fight sequences takes us out of the action and annoys rather than entertains.

Further, as far as revenge fantasies go, DEATH SENTENCE tries to have it both ways. On the one hand, it expects us to believe that Bacon can go from insurance adjustor to killing machine just because he's really mad. On the other, it turns him into a Karloffian monster, as if to wag its finger at us for rooting for him. Pick a side, movie, and stick with it!

Finally, I've just devoted more thought to this film in the last half hour than I did for the two days prior. If you're a Kevin Bacon completist, knock yourself out. Otherwise, you can easily dismiss this film. It's minor at best, bad at worst. You can do better.

Knocked Up

While not as riotously funny as SUPERBAD, KNOCKED UP is still quite funny. And touching. And insightful. And sweet. It's a perfect date movie, but you don't have to be a date to enjoy it. Here's another winner for Judd Apatow; a guy who, at the moment, can do no wrong.

Here's the setup: Seth Rogen's a schlubby slacker who somehow manages to fall into bed with the delightful Katherine Heigl. Two months later, and to her horror, Heigle realizes that she's pregnant. Will this mismatched couple figure out how to navigate both pregnancy and the early stages of an actual relationship? Oh, come on: it's a romantic comedy. Of course they will. The real question is, will this mismatched couple do so in a sufficiently amusing way? You betcha.

As with SUPERBAD and THE 40 YEAR OLD VIRGIN, the comedy here is all in the dialogue. At the moment, no one's consistently writing funny dialogue as well as Apatow (and buddy Rogen), and KNOCKED UP is no exception. These characters are a delight to see and hear, and I suspect that I'll find more to enjoy about their conversations when I see this film again with my delightful bride. Further, you know how most romantic comedies have at least one of the characters learning some schmaltzy life lesson and then beat us with it? KNOCKED UP sells its character development through clever and perceptive insights into relationships both starting and established.

Take all this, mix in a love for its characters, and any question as to why this film was such a monster hit goes away. This is a smart, funny film. I look forward to seeing it again.

Superbad

SUPERBAD is the funniest movie I've seen in months. Its jokes range from broad to subtle, its characters feel and behave in comically realistic ways, and its humour feels natural, rather than forced. There's never a sense, as in BALLS OF FURY, that this film is jumping around and shouting, "Look at me! I'm funny!" It just is.

SUPERBAD follows three geeks on the cusp of high school graduation. There's the skinny one, the fat one, and the one who lives at the very bottom of the social ladder. Unlike NAPOLEON DYNAMITE, which invites us to laugh at its geeks, SUPERBAD invites us to laugh with them as they embark on a quest which, for a high schooler, is all-important: they need to score some alcohol for a party (Side note: when we were in high school and wanted alcohol, we drove around town with our prettiest friend. When we spotted a liquor store that was staffed by a man either very young or very old, we sent her in with cash and a smile. Worked every time.). Along the way, they try their hands at forgery, petty theft, setting police cars on fire, and scaring the hell out of small children. It sounds horrendous, I know, but trust me when I say that it's all in good fun. These kids mean well, they really do, and we can't help but like them and root for them.

That's fine, and it could make for a reasonably pleasant time at the movies, but that isn't what makes SUPERBAD so funny. It's the dialogue, baby, and SUPERBAD is a dialogue-rich film that creates some of the most hilarious exchanges I've enjoyed since KISS, KISS, BANG, BANG. I saw this with some friends the other night, and we've been quoting lines back and forth ever since.

Additionally, this movie has a sweetness to it that gives it a warm glow. There's no villain, per se - just situations. It' s nice, and it avoids the uncomfortable changes in tone that hurts movies like THE WEDDING CRASHERS.

Overall, I rate SUPERBAD as a huge, huge hit. It's the kind of movie one can see over and over again, and I fully intend to. What a great comedy.

Balls of Fury

Remember Maggie Q, the single best thing about MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE: 3? She was so striking in that red dress that, when she turned up in BALLS OF FURY, I decided to write my review as if BOF were a Maggie Q vehicle, as if hers was the only story being told. But you know what? BALLS OF FURY taught me that a little Maggie Q goes a long way. 15 seconds of her in a red dress may capture the imagination, but twenty minutes of her in bikini-style workout gear only makes us realize that she has the body of a malnourished teenager. Combine that with an on-screen personality that, while pleasant enough, isn't particularly interesting, and it wasn't long before I was wishing that she'd get off the screen so Christopher Walken could have more time to camp it up.

BALLS OF FURY is broad comedy, not a deep one. It's a collection of gags slapped on to an ENTER THE DRAGON chassis, and that's fine, if you're ok with 86 minutes of "Ping Pong is a Silly Game" gags. I was sufficiently ok with it to chuckle now and then, occasionally smile, and otherwise lose track of time. Christopher Walken appears to be having a great time delivering a bad Christopher Walken impression, it's always fun to spend some time with James Hong and Terry Crews, and some guy named Thomas Lennon steals the show as a pompous German antagonist.

I could see stopping on BALLS OF FURY if I'm clicking through the channels on a hotel tv some night, but I couldn't see going out of my way for it again. Your mileage may vary.

Rocky II

I saw ROCKY II again.

You know what stood out for me this time? The absolute brilliance of Conti's score. It starts out '70s-funky, then goes all high-Rocky classical during the montage, then seamlessly blends into the tune on his baby's new mobile, then brings in the Wagnerian sensibility during the climactic bout. It is absolutely brilliant, and it makes me want to buy the soundtrack. As long as they leave out Frank Stallone.

As for the rest of the film, it's a bummer for the first two acts, but the third is so uplifting that it makes up for it. Here's the deal: Rocky blows through his fight money in no time, and, before he knows it, he's just another unemployed mook with a baby on the way. Meanwhile, Apollo needs to redeem his performance in his previous fight, and he tries to lure Rocky back into the ring. Rocky demurs and opens a dairy farm in the Swiss Alps.

Just kidding. You know what happens. But it's good stuff, everyone loves those iconic steps, and Stallone knows how to put together a fight scene. And if that doesn't work for you, you can always close your eyes and just listen to the soundtrack. A person can do worse for a couple of hours.

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.

Godzilla: Final Wars

The Japanese People hate me.

I don't know why. I drive a Honda. I eat sushi. I even do Japanese language tapes in my car. Why, oh why, would the members of this great and noble culture choose to inflict GODZILLA: FINAL WARS upon me? By throwing nearly every monster in the history of Godzilla movies into the thing (yes, including the horrid Minilla), they guaranteed repeated viewings at Chez Ellermann, much to the delight of my little boy. And they guaranteed hours of torment for Yours Truly.

GFW teams up a Japanese guy who looks like Keanu Reeves with a white guy who looks like Stalin. Together, they do battle with an evil alien overlord who looks like David Bowie's villain from THE LABYRINTH. I mean, c'mon, this movie thinks executive transvestites make for credible villains! Well, this particular executive transvestite does seem to have the power to control monsters from Godzilla's past, but any awesomness he could derive from this ability is more than offset by his poor taste in mascara.

This movie is poorly edited, atrociously acted, and can't decide whether it's trying to pay homage to THE MATRIX and INDEPENDENCE DAY or merely rip them off outright. The whole production has only one redeeming virtue: it gives us the spectacle of Classic Godzilla kicking American Godzilla's butt, followed by a quick photo-and-roar-op with Mt. Fuji as a backdrop. If that's your thing, you may enjoy at least five minutes of GFW. Otherwise, stay far, far away.

Strings

STRINGS is a marionette movie with a, erm, twist. Instead of having
its puppets serve as humans and asking us to ignore the strings, its
puppets serve as puppets and embrace their strings. They have a
string-based theology, marionette-centered architecture, and a vision
of birth that's unlike anything you've ever seen before.

The story itself is standard faery tale stuff: a kingdom at war, an
evil usurper, a rightful king, and all the standard "hero's journey"
elements. If this were a CGI film, or even a live-action picture, I'd
probably recommend giving it a pass. But it isn't, and the absolutely
outstanding set design, art direction, and puppeteering make this one
worth the rental.

STRINGS takes you a world familiar enough to understand, yet alien
enough to delight and astonish you. Enjoy.

The Aristocrats

Here's something you probably don't know about me: I have an incredibly vulgar sense of humor. When I'm hanging out in a ready room, I'll go lower faster than anyone there. The "Oh-my-god-I-can't-believe-he-just-said-that" laugh is a cheap laugh, but I'll take it any time.

In other words, THE ARISTOCRATS was right up my alley. For its first hour or so, the movie had me going from chuckling to guffawing to weeping to back again with hardly a letup. Then the movie made a fatal mistake: it gave us Kevin Pollack telling the joke as Christopher Walken, a performance so brilliant that no one - no one - could possibly follow it. By climaxing too early, the movie left me rather disinterested for the remainder.

But I was ready to watch it again five minutes after that.

PS One major disappointment: THE ARISTOCRATS gives us Shelley Berman (my favorite comedian) talking about the joke, but never actually telling the joke. I would've loved to have seen his take!

PPS My wife left the room after twenty minutes, so YMMV. I don't tell her ready room jokes, either.

PPPS Sarah Silverman: I don't get it. Who's Joe Franklin?

The Manitou

Some movies are simply bad, some are horribly bad, and some are delightfully bad. 1978's THE MANITOU, starring Tony Curtis as a sham psychic and Susan Strasberg as a topless, psychic, evil-immortal-medicine-man battler, is wonderfully, delightfully bad in nearly every way. It embraces its profound badness, has great fun with it, and invites us to join in. Depending on your mood at the time of viewing, you're bound either to enjoy the heck out of it or hit the "Stop" button about 15 minutes in. It's up to you.

Here's the setup: Curtis is a sham psychic, ripping off old ladies in San Francisco. He's living the good living, grooving to funk and drinking canned beer, when an old girlfriend (Strasberg) calls. She has a problem: there's a fetus growing in her back, and that can't be good.

Before he knows it, Curtis is interviewing Burgess Meredith (playing a guy who clearly study the script and is just ad-libbing his way through things) learning that said fetus is the reincarnation of the aforementioned evil, immortal medicine man. He's off to the reservation to find another medicine man to help him out, then it's back to the hospital, where Strasberg is giving back-birth to a midget in a rubber suit. From there, well, all I can say is that there are some movies that make me wish I did drugs. I have difficulty imagine how much better Topless Strasberg mentally battling Rubber Suit Midget in space (space!) could be, but I can't watch that scene and not think that it wasn't made for mushrooms.

So: THE MANITOU. Nowhere near good, but actually quite fun. You could do worse.

PS If you watch this, be sure to watch the trailers first. They'll really put you in the mood.

Shoot 'Em Up

I should have loved SHOOT 'EM UP. I really should have. I've made relatives sit down for HARD BOILED. I think the BOURNE movies are top notch. Hell, I consider the two TRANSPORTER movies borderline classic cinema.

But I merely liked it. I suppose that's ok.

SHOOT 'EM UP stars Clive Owen as Bugs Bunny and Paul Giamatti as Elmer Fudd. Or is it Clive Owen as Roadrunner and Paul Giamatti as Wile E. Coyote? Owen as Tom and Giamatti as Jerry? Whichever, these two cartoon characters chase and get chased across a breathless 86 minutes filled with more gunfire, 'splosions, and chases than you can drop an anvil on. It's fun, or at least it starts fun, but it grows tiresome as the body count rises and it nihilistic tone comes to grate on the nerves. By the time this bulletfest turns into an anti-gun screed (talk about trying to have your cake and eat it, too), I'd had enough.

Paul Giamatti, the reason why I saw this movie, is delightfully, insanely evil. I can imagine the actor cackling and rubbing his hands together while reading this script for the first time. He's balanced against Clive Owen, an actor I've liked only in those BMW short films. People keep telling me that Owen is the Next Big Thing, but I don't get it. He just seems dour and angry, and if I want dour and angry I'll just look up an old girlfriend. Further, SHOOT 'EM UP wastes the magnificent Monica Belluci in a role that makes me wonder why she accepted it.

Yes, some of the stunts are spectacular. There's a skydiving setpiece that's simply breathtaking. There's some of the most creative gunplay I've seen since EL MARIACHI. But there's very little to leaven it. In addition to its action, SHOOT 'EM UP makes us sit through an hour and a half of human despair and degradation.

And that, I can live without.

3:10 to Yuma

3:10 TO YUMA is both a fine western and a sad commentary on the current state of the western.

James Mangold has crafted a fine western with an extraordinary cast, featuring two of the finest leading men in pictures today: Christian Bale and Russell Crowe. The men sell antagonism, respect, and something approaching friendship, and I enjoyed watching the development of their relationship over the course of the film. The film itself has nearly everything one can expect from a western, including evil water barons, post- Civil War hostility, Apaches on the raid, and the impending changes brought on by rail travel. It also features some decent western stuntwork, but it's this very stuntwork that makes 3:10 TO YUMA a sad commentary on the current state of its genre. Where are the horses trained to fall and tumble? Where are the stuntmen trained to ride them? For that matter, where are the stuntmen trained to hop from horse to horse, or carry out any of the other feats we've come to expect as followers of the genre? I think that 3:10 TO YUMA tried to provide us with some of those thrills; but its genre has seemed unprofitable for so long that modern stuntmen simply aren't building the skills necessary to pull off first-class western stunts.

And that's too bad, because the western genre still has so much to offer. 3:10 TO YUMA, while a remake, stays fresh, compelling, and exciting up to the very end. Though it stumbles with a leaden confession late in the game, it delivers fine western action and he-man pathos throughout. It's more TOMBSTONE than OPEN RANGE, and that's ok. Here's a movie that just wants to entertain us, and it succeeds.

{hesitates ... hesitates ... aw, to heck with it}

Catch this movie.