Movie Review: A Serbian Film

I’ve tried to start writing the review for this film a few times now, and each time they have come out not fitting this film. The problem is that this is one of those films that is nearly impossible to describe while keeping an air of authority to one’s prose. In short, this is a thriller, I’d go as far as to call it a horror film, about a retired porn star who comes out of retirement for a paycheck big enough to provide for his family for a very long time. This is usually the spot where I’d link you to actors or director’s imdb page, but they are all such unknowns outside of Serbia (I’m assuming they have some degree of fame there) that linking you to the Wikipedia page of the film is all I can provide, so here it is: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Serbian_Film. The acting is impeccable. That sentence is short but implies a great deal. This is one of the best acted films I have ever seen. The cinematography, while definitely influenced by Eastern European cinema, is still unique and incredibly well done. The soundtrack is catchy and instantly memorable. Despite being utterly off put by the film’s content, I’m still humming the tune they planted in my head a few hours later. The closest I can describe it as is a cliché porn music track played in hell. I’m writing about the special effects almost as an afterthought now because they were so convincing that it only occurred to me that they were effects when I started writing the review. This alone should say more than enough, but now I have to gush, because I was completely convinced. I watched this film on my computer, sitting in my own room, and I was still completely drawn in and buying every minute of it. I cannot emphasize enough how powerfully this film ensnared me. However, the real problem with this film, like other films such as Eyes Wide Shut or Hostel, the line between porn, exploitation, and art is a difficult one to tag down. The film certainly has a compelling story, a great story progression, excellent characters, fantastic directing, but at the same time, I feel compelled to label much of this film as too extreme to be compared to normal cinema. Some of the images in this film are going to haunt me for a long time, and I have respect for the creators and the actors and everyone involved in this project, but again, I am visibly upset by what I have viewed. If all else fails, I must go with the most important aspect of review: Did I like the film? The answer is a tentative yes, though I’m not entirely sure I would be prepared for another viewing, at least not for a while. Machete to my head though, I have to say I liked it, from an artistic perspective at least, though not from a human one.

Beautifully shot, hauntingly scored, incredibly well acted, and more disturbing than anything else I have ever seen, including pornography and that horrid human centipede thing. Three and one half stars. I recommend this one if you're looking for an artistic film about one man's personal struggle, but not unless you can easily laugh off a Lars Von Trier film.

***.5 out of *****

Movie Review: SPLICE

I've been looking forward to this film for over at least 1 year. It's hard to pin down when exactly, but I've been pumped up for a while. As a result, I faced much trepidation over whther this film would live up to my lofty expectations. For once, I was actually satisfied. This movie actually lived up to all of my expectations. Where to begin?

The poster is an obvious nod to the original Alien film from 1979. 30 years and a few terrible sequels later there is no modern standard to match the atmosphere and sheer discomfort caused by Ridley Scott's masterpiece.

Until now.

Splice opens with a disturbing yet comforting artful set of credits, firmly placing itself in the uncanny valley of movie monsters, and it dwells there the entire ride. We're introduced by two Mothra larvae called Fred and ginger, which are precursors to the real monster under the bed of this film, Dren portrayed masterfully by Delphine Chanéac. She is under makeup and a good degree of CGI, but the effects are understated and she brings an uncomfortable human element to the creature that makes it truly terrifying.

The camerawork is spot on the whole ride, no complaints. The sets are convincing, even the supporting cast is beyond reproach. David Hewlett plays the same annoying guy he was on Stargate Atlantis. But really, the two actors of consequence here are Adrian Brody as Clive and Sarah Polley as Elsa. Brody is good, he's always pretty good. Consistently acceptable in pretty much everything. His performance is not a tour de force, but I have no complaints. Polley on the other hand gave a wonderful performance as the scientist/mothering figure. I felt for her the whole time.

Now, for the real test of a horror film: Was it scary? In a word, yes. And the last time a film actually made me look at the screen sideways was Audition. The monster wasn't too gross, too computerized, too inhuman, too scary, it was just the perfect balance of everything a horror film needs to be.

Some of the plot points are a little hackneyed which takes this film from a perfect score, but it came damn close.

****.5 out of *****

Movie Review: Iron Man 2

I am wearing my several years old Iron Man shirt bought off of Superherostuff.com and I realized gleefully an hour into the film that my old shirt had become the new suit model, the circle arc reactor replaced with a triangular one. So, quite incidentally, I have worn a shirt far more relevant even than those sold currently a week after the movie's release. Sadly, this did not make my enjoyment of the film increase much. I was disappointed, to be honest.

The film gets off to a rather slow start and only feels like it gets going when Terrence Howard replacement Don Cheadle appears on the scene. He commands roughly as much attention as the actor he replaced, that is to say, not very much. As we saw in the first Iron Man, Downey Jr steals the camera as well as the attention. The only problem with that here is that in the first film, we were watching the redemption of Tony Stark. This time, his awkward bipolar attention deficit disorder has nothing to remedy it, and I found it incredibly hard to route for him. I was rooting for the un-named villain captured in a very weak cage by Mickey Rourke. I know his name is Whiplash, and that's a damn good name for a villain! Why was it left out? This bothered me.

Second annoyance was Justin Hammer. Now, I'm a fan of Sam Rockwell so I'm going to lay the blame on the writing here. Was he supposed to be annoying and stupid? Probably, but this was a bit much. His masterwork weapon being a dud would've been funny if the movie's main villain were not as much of a dud. The final action scenes were uninspired, with one notable exception: Scarlett Johansson. I was expecting to hate her, and I loved her. A Russian accent would have been nice but I can chalk that up to her being incognito, or some other espionage related reason. Her action scenes were well-done, brief but not too short, and filled with the perfect balance of martial arts and high tech gadgetry. This makes me wish for a Nick Fury and his Howling Commandos film, but I know that's not going to happen.

Third annoyance was the damn Captain America shield cameo. It was thrown in, it was not funny, and the adamantium/vibranium shield looked like it was made of aluminum can remnants. If they're trying to build excitement for the Cap film, this is not how to do it.

Now, the theme of Iron Man 2 is legacy, much like the theme of Iron Man 1 was redemption, and Iron Man 2 is a sequel, which would seem to make legacies implied anyways, but whatever, that's nitpicking. Iron Man 2 does give a legacy to Iron Man 1, but it isn't what it deserved. Sure, there are a few moments of downright badassery, but they were few and far between. While the first film was carried on Tony's shoulders, this film survives only on the strength of the supporting cast. Cheadle is boring but at least he's not Stark. Happy is wonderful. Pepper is easy to sympathize with and frankly, adorable. Nick Fury is Samuel L. Jackson, which is enough. Natasha Romanoff is more entertaining than anyone else in the film, and I'm not saying that for her appearance.

The jokes are few, and not that funny. The action is watchable, but not really at that level of cinema awesome that makes something timeless. The drama seems phoned in. It may be that I'm being a tad bit harsh towards that film, but the first film was really, really good! If this film is about legacy, it isn't very much of one for its predecessor.

*** out of *****

P.S. The after credits scene was more satisfying than the entire film. I'm looking forward to Thor.

Charitable Events I believe should exist

Occasionally, ideas come to me that I would like to talk about, but until the advent of the blog I did not have the forum to express them effectively. But now I can. This is one of those times. May I present to you, Charitable Events I believe should exist, but probably don't. I can't be bothered to actually research any of them.

The Arthritis walk

Home run contest to support Lou Gehrig's disease.

Spelling Bee for Dyslexia

Dodgeball benefit for Landmine survivors

Kickboxing for quadruple amputees

Hockey for the frostbitten

MADD Drinking contests

ASPCA Cockfighting

Pie Eating contest to support sufferers of Bulimia

Mountain Climbing towards a cure for Acrophobia

Biathlon for bipolar disorder

Cheerleading for low self-esteem

And finally

Horse Racing for the cure for beastiality.

Movie Review: Alice in Wonderland

I've just walked in fresh from viewing this film in that glorious Avatar 3D. One problem: Avatar, despite its many, many problems, was designed to make use of the 3D technology, and seeing it in anything other than its desired format detracts from the experience, like watching a cinema film on an ipod. Or watching Space Ghost in an IMAX theater. Alice in Wonderland suffers from the opposite problem. 3D is chic right now, and there are no less than 3 movies I'm aware of opening soon, touting their 3D as amazing and as if it were a reason to see the film. Alice in Wonderland did not need to be made in 3D. It's Alice in freaking Wonderland, it survives on the strength of its story. Or, it should have in this case.

That's not to say I disliked this film as much as I utterly despised Avatar, far from it. This film is mediocre to good, but it should have been much more. Its stars, Johnny Depp as the Mad Hatter and Mia Wasikowska as Alice, are both acceptable but nothing to write home about. Depp's performance was particularly underwhelming, an unwelcome surprise. His crazy portrayal of Jack Sparrow as seen in Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End was much more convincing and endearing. The audience is expected to immediately sympathize with the character, or perhaps to sympathize with Depp under all that make up, but he just comes off as run of the mill. And Wasikowska was just weak. She showed no strength in any way, and I was thoroughly disappointed.

The story itself is the original book, thrown into a blender with American Mcgee's Alice, turned into a milkshake with sprinklings of Disney nostalgia, then drank by Tim Burton and pissed out into a theater near you. The plucky and unique female protagonist runs away from her Victorian world of imposed marriage and corsets into a fantastical world where she can really make a difference and oh who cares anymore you're not watching the film for a gripping story. We all know it already. If you've caught the old movie on TV or read the summary on wikipedia of the book you're over prepared.

Now, "what's good?," you may ask. Well, a few things. Helena Bonham Carter is resplendent as usual, and her queen of hearts is precise and critical. Then again, I never have found a reason to speak ill of her in a film, even a film I hate. A welcome surprise is Crispin Glover as Stayne the knave of hearts. His animation made him move in an artificial kind of lanky way that was distracting and irritating, but I'm not completely sure it wasn't supposed to be. But Glover, as usual, was a welcome treat to the cast. As was Stephen Fry's Chesire Cat. Christopher Lee makes his required appearance (seeing as it is a Tim Burton movie and all) voicing the Jabberwocky. It doesn't not work, but that's as much as I'll give it. Alan Rickman's blue caterpillar is fitting, but not much else.

Danny Elfman's music was great for this film. I forget whether it was Alice in Wonderland, Beetlejuice, Edward Scissorhands, Sleepy Hollow, Planet of the Apes, Darkman, Batman, Batman Returns, Corpse Bride, or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory that I was watching. But...whichever it was, I'm sure it was dark and fitting, and unique.

This isn't really a bad movie. But what it is is a shallow re-imagining that simply didn't need to be made. Like Burton's Planet of the Apes, I left the theater feeling underwhelmed, and though not totally annoyed, feeling rather empty and vapid much like what had been projected on screen. I'm left looking for the point of it all. I didn't feel like I'd gone on a drug trip, I didn't feel like I'd just watched a shitty movie, I just felt nothing. I'd say you get what you pay for but the 3D tickets were $12.00 apiece, which equates to highway robbery in this case. Honestly I was left feeling more unsettled watching the 1903 version of the film then I was here. Save your money, skip this one.

P.S. The trailer for TRON: Legacy which preceded this film was amazing, if not worth the $12.00 or sitting through the film. But if you're a big enough fan, you'll do it anyways. I sat through Robots just for the Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith trailer a few years back. Shitty film, but the fanboy in me still says it was worth it.

The capacity to cry

Steven called me a little earlier today. Told me to go pick up my grandmother. She was on the floor crying. She didn't want my parents to know. Is she ashamed, or embarrassed, or scared? I'm not really sure which emotion motivated her to shun my parents' help, albeit temporarily, but regardless, I went upstairs to help.

She was on the floor in a kind of half sitting half lying down posture. I think it took all her strength to get that far upright. She was holding the phone. It was making that constant "beep beep" noise of a receiver too long off its cradle. I feel like I haven't heard that noise in ages, since cell phones lack it. She was crying, lightly. I took the phone from her hand and replaced it on the base. I lifted her up and placed her on the bed. She cried harder when I helped her. She said something, said a lot of things, and a lot I had to help her finish with. Words on the tip of her tongue. I could guess from context until she nodded in affirmation. I helped her pull her clothes on correctly, got her under a blanket, and held her in the bed. It sounds cliche, but that scene from the book we all had as kids. "Love You Forever" by Robert Munsch. The scene at the end.

One thing I could make out clearly. She said to me, through tears, "I just wanna die." Something is so heartbreaking about your first grandchild helping you dress and cradling you, that she cried harder. I understand that distress. I cannot fathom it in feeling, but I understand it.

Her bones are brittle and break often. Her muscles are weak. Her skin is too pliable. Nerve damage from an old surgery robbed her of some nerve connections, so her weakened state is brought to further levels of immobility. She's having trouble finding words and names. But despite everything that is failing or has already failed, her eyes are wise and witty and alive and delicate. And she can cry with the strength of anyone on earth. It is cruel that we can continue to cry, even after we cannot remember why were doing it anymore.

To Whom It May Concern

Today there was some...unpleasantness. I'm not going to talk about it in detail, because I have been wisely advised not to. However, I do feel the need to set certain things straight.

There was never a time in my life where I have been happy that Katie Keenan was unhappy. It's true that I ended it, and at the time I thought I had done the right thing, for both of us, and in time I came to regret the decision. Were you to ask anyone in my life how I was at the time, I wasn't exactly jubilant about the entire situation. In fact, I was cutting, I was crying constantly, and I was borderline suicidal. I came out of it, but months later I still loved her. I never stopped loving her, not for a second. I thought her only chance for happiness was to live without me, and I remained despondent over her...well, until she came back into my life. My closest friend, Darien, urged me to take the shot with her because every time I bitched about being lonely and he gave me some variant of the "plenty of fish in the sea" argument I'd respond with the assertion that I had my one catch, and to compare them to her, I'd reel in nothing but old boots. I know I did wrong. I don't forget for a second that I hurt her, and that I don't deserve her, but she has forgiven me, and we're together, and I don't think I've ever been happier in my life. She's wonderful, she's amazing, she's everything I could ever ask for. She makes life worth living. I haven't forgiven myself for being such a fool, but she has. Part of me still hates myself for ever dreaming to cause her pain. Part of me always will, probably. But she's forgiven me. My one treasure in life, my Lois Lane, my Gwen Stacy, my Black Canary, my Linda Park, my Carol Ferris, you name it. She's let me back into her life, and whether or not people hate me for loving her, or hate me for being with her, or hate me for just being alive, I'm never, ever, going to stop loving her for a second. I loved her when I met her, I loved her when I was a stupid child and proposed, I loved her when I ended it, I loved her as she hated me, I loved her when she let me speak to her again, I loved her when I met her again, almost a year later, for coffee. I love her now. I'm never, ever, going to stop loving her. There's nothing in this world that can stop me. So you can hate me, but it won't stop me loving her, not now, not ever.