Transformers: Dark of the Moon

I saw Transformers 3 last month.

Here was the setup: There is this thing called a D-Box experience where you go to the movie theatre and sit in these reserved seats that shake during the action parts, and shift side-to-side and generally only distract from what you're watching because it moves during random parts like cars driving in the background and stuff.

So we see "Super 8" [whenever that came out] in the D-Box, drinking Long Island Iced Teas in our moving seats (because it's a cool modern theatre with bar service that cuts you off after one drink so you better make it strong, especially if you know the movie is going to suck). Every time a car entered the scene, the seats shook. It was great. Sunday afternoon movies after happy-hour margaritas (which were fucking disgusting), oyster shots (also gross), and Long Islands (high-fructose corn syrup + well liquer = not godo at all) are the best.

So seeing "Super 8" in the D-Box was awesome (the movie was okay too). But get this, "Transformers 3" didn't get the D-Box treatment! Yeah. The movie that could revolutionize this new technology doesn't even take advantage of it. Instead of the seats just moving when a car enters the scene "Transformers" is a franchise that stars cars that turn into people. The seats would be moving the entire time! You wouldn't even have to brace yourself, it would just shake every second of every minute for one hundred and thirty-nine minutes.

Even without the D-Box we saw it anyways.

I don't want to come off as a poor ass bitch or anything so we chose the luxury seats because as my friend Chris would say "Am I a prince, or am I a pauper?" It feels good hanging with a bunch of princes. 

It was a let down. There were tons of cars in the movie but how am I supposed to empathize with them when the seat I'm sitting in doesn't even vibrate at all? And while the movie doesn't make clear sense all of the time it is nowhere near as nonsensical as that Dada masterpiece "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen."

Michael Bay may be leaving the franchise now but at least he left us with a few choice nuggets such as Buzz Aldrin (yes, the famous astronaut himself) giving Optimus Prime tips on the hidden robot on the moon, and my personal favorite scene where stock footage of the African Sahara has Megatron's voiceover on it saying "all hail Megatron," and then the elephants and zebras all boo. Besides the few-and-far-between-cluster-fuck-moments there isn't much to recommend. Lots of stuff explodes, America, support our troops, some of these action scenes must have been recycled from the first two movies.

In the end the cast somehow converge on Chicago (which no one seems able to explain to me, besides saying, "oh, they just all went there.") and for what seems like forever sparks fly, and famous old buildings get shot up. It is all quite boring. Shia Lebeouf's love interest enrages Meagtron by saying he has no balls (which is awesome) and Optimus Prime gives a sweet dramatic speech to wrap things up that has nothing to do with whatever it was we just watched.

"Transformers 3" is a lot like its predecesor in that they are both overblown, insane, sci-fi stoner comedy romance movies. The difference is that "Transformers 2" was overtly racist, sexist, and fundamentally incoherent, while "Transformers 3" is just a big, dumb action movie. Everyone I was with fell asleep at least once during the movie (myself included for a minute or two) and I wouldn't blame anyone for doing the same. No amount of gross Margaritas, or Long Island Iced Teas could save this piece of shit. I'm guessing the reason I couldn't get into the movie is because my seat stood still.

Why did you forsake your savior D-Box?

Super 8

My friend Chris' review of "Super 8:"

"An irrelevant hack made an homage to a relevant hack and it fucking sucked and if you disagree with any of that, besides the fucking sucked part, then you are a complete idiot."

All That Jazz

My grandpa told me his favorite movie is "All That Jazz." He said, "does that surprise you?"

And it did surprise me. A jazz-dance R-rated musical? That my grandfather loves?

Also surprising is how much the film takes from "8 1/2." The story is based on director Bob Fosse's real life heart attack, exhaustion and perfectionism. He tries to juggle too many things at the same time.

Of course a film like this is bound to be narcissistic. But the camera-work and pacing are expertly handled, and astounding. Instead of just showing the multiple projects to demonstrate Fosse's exhaustion the editing cuts endlessly between past, present, future, and dreams.

The Fosse character (named Joe Gideon in the film) is played by Roy Scheider. He always has a cigarette in the corner of his mouth, he sleeps with women when he feels like it, he loves his daughter but ignores her, and he can't stop working. The whole movie should be off-putting because of how much it idolizes its central character, but the gritty, true-life feeling of the picture make it more than just a monument statue in film form.

Scheider's daily routine of pills, a shower and classical music lead off numerous fantastic scenes, and the musical aspect does us a favor and stays out of the way. A behind-the-scenes musical about musicals is bound to have a song and dance number here and there, but none of them (well maybe the end) feel overwrought. Fosse's excess translates wonderfully to the screen, and the performances, virtuosic editing, and unusual storyline make "All That Jazz" a surprisingly excellent film. Definitely not for everyone, but at the very least the opening audition sequence should be seen by everyone.

Frequently brilliant and best of all, unexpected.

I Saw The Devil

Kim Ji-Woon needs an editor. He desperately needs one.

I watched his "A Tale of Two Sisters" and an interview from when the film was made. Apparently, the interviewer was just as annoyed that the twist ending doesn't explain numerous events, or as he put it, the movie doesn't make sense. Ji-Woon didn't defend himself except to say that people shouldn't care that it doesn't cohere.

But he isn't working within experimental film; he constructs 90% of a perfect thriller, and then half-asses (or worse) the final moments. There isn't a single audience I know that could get behind a lazy twist ending. Unconventional plotting is one thing, but poor plotting is basically inexcusable. Thank god he didn't say the movie conflicts with itself because it is a modern ghost story version of Ran or something.

His 2008 film "The Good The Bad The Weird," suffered from a sluggish final act, but I've been told there are different endings for the Korean and international releases so I may just need to see the original.  I'm skeptical.

Which brings us to "I Saw The Devil." 75% of this movie is fantastic. Choi Min-Sik has such amazing screen presence that watching him talk to anyone has a heavy foreboding. He is perfectly cast, and opposite him, the steely emotionally stunned Lee Byung-Hun is likewise appropriately played. They perform their parts in one great scene after the other until Kim runs out of gas. Everything after the mansion scene drags heavily. The plotting becomes leaden, and the actions are somehow slow, too fast, lazy and uninspired at the same time. This terrible streak is summed up best by the sequence where Lee drives in reverse with his door open against a stack of cement (how convenient) so that when he spins his car around at a precise location he can fling Choi into the opening. It sounds dumb on paper and it looks really stupid. Then Kim cuts to montaged footage of driving at night. So we're to think that the two didn't fight, or injure each other on the ride over? It is awful.

The finale is fitting, with Lee confronting just how terrible Choi is, but it would have been better if it came 20 minutes sooner.

"I Saw the Devil" is dark and entertaining. the kid finding the ear, and the night driving are David Lynch references not lost on me, but if "Blue Velvet" is your inspiration you should also note its density and brevity. Maybe the next one will be perfect. At least he's getting closer.

Blue Velvet

Maybe David Lynch isn't the worst (he still is).

"Blue Velvet" is an odd amalgamation of the accessibility of "Twin Peaks" and the dark noire of "Mulholland Drive."  What makes the film surprisingly watchable and enduring for a Lynch film is its adherence to a three-arc plot-line that doesn't jump-ship or devolve into lazy abstraction.

Kyle Mclauchlan stars as a college student home for the summer. When he finds a severed ear in a field by his house he decides to play detective to uncover what happened. He is pulled between the cheesy 50s facade of good natured America and a hidden underworld of crime and ugliness. These forces manifest themselves as Laura Dern and Isabella Roselini.  The women , their situations, and the implications of succumbing to either side give the whodunit extra weight.

MacLauchlan initially finds the dark side alluring, and when he gives himself over to Roselini he becomes more aggressive, and violent, and eventually dismissive of the innocent Laura Dern. Added to this conflict is MacLauchlan's entire reason for getting involved with Roselini; to help a woman in trouble.

He is constantly pulled by both sides.  I found myself most interested in how Kyle MacLauchlan would end up, not who would be there with him. H seems unsure of how to digest what he is learning, and his boy-scout attitude lends him an endearing naivete. 

Those expecting a cascading dream with no resolution will be very surprised. Not only does the underworld metaphor carry over through the entire film, but the modern noire plot follows through in a conventional fashion. Lynch has created a coming-of-age murder mystery that is at turns wildly bizarre, and strangely relatable.

Too bad he had to squander all of his talents. At least he fired on all cylinders one time.

Monogamy

Voyeurism in the cinema isn't anything new.  Michael Powell gave his central character/murderer in "Peeping Tom" a camera as both the murder weapon, and filming device. He films what he sees, as does Powell, and he goes back later to watch it, as does the audience. There is a fascination with secretly observing. In "Peeping Tom" the look of shock just before death was supposed to represent truth, and in Dana Adam Shapiro's feature film debut "Monogamy" there is the search for truth/honesty/the-real in observation.

Or that's how it starts out. "Monogamy" has Chris Messina as the voyeur-recently-engaged-to-Rashida-Jones-soul-searching-rides-his-bike-around-Brooklyn-part-time-gumshoe you've seen a million times. :) His main gig is as a wedding photographer (and the scenes of him cajoling families and couples into poses are natural, and funny) but he also has a part-time job as a secret photographer. People hire him to spy on them and take photos to reveal something about themselves.

The first of these clients the movies shows us has an old man wondering how people think of him as he walks around the park. The next client is a woman who stuns Messina by masturbating on a park bench at nine in the morning. Messina takes the photos back to his apartment and obsesses over them. She has a tattoo, a ring, a necklace, and possibly a wig. Messina's fascination with this woman leads him to doubt his impending marriage and generally just act like a giant dick.

Opposite Messina is Rashida Jones as an aspiring folk singer? That's what we're supposed to believe but everyone knows that's not a profession, especially with the shit song she sings in the movie. Her main "flaw" is that her character never wants to have sex, but based on the way Messina acts you won't blame her.

The first half of the movie plays like a murder mystery. It reminded me of the infinitely superior "The Conversation." The difference is that Coppola had something to say (such as commentary on observation, and paranoia) and he followed that through with a solid, well-thought-out plot. Neither holds true for "Monogamy." At the end when Messina randomly follows a guy home and the big twist is revealed, we've had to forgive innumerable plot contrivances to get there, and it is in no way validated by the oh-so-that's-why-she-blah-blah moment.

As is that weren't awful enough, the film closes with (I'm not making this shit up) Messina standing in the back row of one of Rashida Jones concerts, (at what looks like a small playhouse with everyone seated and quiet) and he listens to the song she is singing (about a 9 year old boy meeting his future wife - puke) and he starts to cry while bullshit "archive footage" of their relationship plays. It's stuff like them having a pillow fight and watching the sunset on the roof of their Brooklyn apartment. I almost couldn't believe my eyes. Wasn't this that weird movie with numerous masturbation sequences, and an obsessive voyeur? No, this is just a piece of shit.

Marwencol

After getting beaten within an inch of his life by 5 assailants Mark Hogancamp struggled with rehabilitation and ultimately couldn't afford further treatment. He found an unlikely therapy source in dolls, action figures and his imagination which he used as a coping device. He invented a place called MarWenCol where his GI Joes and Barbies live out a fantasy action-movie lifestyle. It is a Belgian town inhabited by soldiers of all nations who want to be happy, drink beer, and watch cat fights.

Mark anthropomorphically links specific dolls with people he knows; for instance, his former neighbor Colleen (who shares naming right for the town). Mark invested so much time with his imaginary village that he confused the real Colleen's actions with that of the doll. 

Hogancamp's story is undeniably original, but the first-time director Jeff Malmberg doesn't yet have the talent to rope in all of the plot threads. 

The film has an enormous amount of content but chooses to meek out great developments that don't add up to a final fulfilling product. The initial story of Mark not knowing about himself is awfully engaging. He used to be an alcoholic, and married but we don't find out much about the marriage, or the divorce. He mentions that he doesn't currently desire alcohol but his feelings about not remembering his past life, or reliving moments never come into play. Same too when Mark reveals he collects women's shoes and has a tendency towards cross-dressing. Is this new? Is it a product of his beating? Was it the reason for the beating, as is implied? We're never told concretely. Detrimentally. 

The photographs Mark takes of his village are also very striking but after seeing similar cuts, shots, and angles by the filmmakers they aren't exactly the modern-art show-stoppers that a couple of the talking heads seem to think they are.  Are the photographs the reason the movie was made? The film is presented with the art show being the climactic scene. If that were the case then why do we only learn about Mark's photography forty-five minutes into the movie? And that's after countless nice looking freeze frames by the director of photography. 

"Marwencol" is filled with compelling material but the structure, and final content of the film do not transcend the haphazard construction of an amateur first-time filmmaker. Some documentaries don't have enough material. It is rare to see one falter because it has too much.

A Canterbury Tale

A US soldier, a widow, and a British soldier disembark from a train one night in a village near Canterbury. They amble along trying to solve the mystery of who keeps pouring glue onto the heads of young ladies. 

This is all a modern version of the pilgrims going to Canterbury, like in The Canterbury Tales. I remember that one because I had to recite the intro in Olde English in High School (Wan that April with the Shore Soote, The Drought of March Has Perced To The Roote...) and also because of the gorgeous edition of the Kelmscot Chauser I bought a couple years ago. That book is a particularly stunning composit of letterpress and line-drawings. 

The Archers film only has a ligt connection to the classic tales, and for some reason they combine it with World War 2. That reason may be because they filmed it in 1944 in the thick of it. 

Each of the "pilgrims" has their own story, motivations, and wishes that eventually get wrapped up when they go to the famed Canterbury Cathedral. Great low-key pace, with nice settings, and natural acting. The exact opposite of an action movie, but enough mystery is wrung from the glue-man as is possible, and the lack of on-screen romantic tension is acceptable because each of the protagonists is so likable. 

I never expected people walking around talking about international lumber techniques, and admiring some low slung hills to be so relaxing and genuinely enjoyable.  The Archers just knew how to make a movie. I was also impressed by how unconventional the plotting is. Basically, three separate story arcs in one, with a mild mystery, and plenty of side-tracking combined with a modern retelling of a classic set during a war. Could this get green-lit today? How did it get green-lit then?

A great film. Nothing too tense, or exciting, but exceptional nonetheless. If you enjoy high contrast noire-style cinematography then you need to see the night shots in this film. As virtuosic as the rest is subtle and assured. 

Loves of a Blonde

Before he directed "One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest" Miloš Foreman was a burgeoning talent of the Czech film school.  His "Loves of a Blonde" was an international award winner and was nominated for Best Foreign film at both the Golden Globes and the Academy Awards.

The story focuses on a young girl named Andula who goes through a couple of small romances. The first is with a playboy who gives her a ring and later asks for it back, and the central "love" is a traveling pianist from the city. Andula and her friends go to a dance/social held because a troupe of soldiers are going through the city and the overwhelmingly female-centric population needs a distraction.

There is a lovely scene where Andula's friends get courted by these old, cheap soldiers who are overeager, and underwhelmed somehow at the same time. The scene is effortless, and a pleasure to watch. But not only that, the following scenes with Andula and the piano player in the bedroom are even better. The people say a lot about each other, and themselves, with their body language, and eye contact.

Those moments and the end where Andula goes to the big city are classic – Not in an epic way, but in a this-is-so-great way. I kept kind of shaking my head because the film is so well done, and effortlessly entertaining.

How could I ever forget this:

The Edge of the World

Maybe not even in the top 5 best shots in the movie. 

This was the game-changer for Michael Powell. He went through the studio grind for many years but really struck a chord as an original voice in cinema with "The Edge of the World."

Powell says he was inspired by the story that eventually became "The Edge of the World" when he was a school boy reading a newspaper article about native people abandoning a remote island off the coast of Scotland. Once he earned enough cred he took a film crew to a faraway village and filmed what he always wanted to.

The cinematography is stunning. The island geography is justly the focus of much of the film. The rough water slaps the craggy cliffs. The giant forces of nature overwhelm the small rural population and that combined with with a romantic conflict between the central characters drives the film forward. Maybe it is because of the monumental scale of the setting, but the human drama seems dwarfed by its surroundings, yet the entire production feels elevated because of it. The story feels important, yet simple.

This could only be cooler with an archery target introduction.

As a pre-Archers experiment, it works. The production shows its age, but the location and simplicity go a long way towards making it timeless, in that old movie sort of way. This is leagues ahead of the filmed-play style of early filmmaking, and is an important step in Powell's career. If you like the sense of place that Powell would perfect as The Archers, then you'll enjoy this important building block.

Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me

It would probably suck if we had no reason for being in this movie.
No time to think about that shit...Well, see ya later.

I'm a public David Lynch hater. "Wild at Heart" is one of my least favorite movies. I genuinely hate it. So it was with major hesitation that I watched "Twin Peaks" even with the hugely positive reputation it has from several highly respected sources.

I didn't expect to like the show at all but it is undeniably an intriguing execution of a solid premise. Dark, abstract, and supernatural elements are introduced to a standard mystery and the large, varied cast of characters deal with them as anyone would. The dialogue is frequently funny or right-on and the weirdness only adds to the appeal. At least in the early goings. It is widely held that once the central mystery is solved (the identity of Laura Palmer's murderer) that the show goes downhill. And it really does. Some of those episodes aren't merely a drop in quality from a great show, they are frankly terrible. Really cheap, awful plots where the potential of the established characters and built-up goodwill are squandered.

The initial seven episodes of season 1, and the first five or so of season 2 are fantastic. I liked the David Lynch moments, the odd humor, the unexplained dream sequences. I had a feeling that Mark Frost, co-creator with Lynch, was the driving force behind actually fulfilling the story.

Which brings me to the prequel/sequel post-series-film "Fire Walk With Me," helmed by Lynch with no involvement from Frost. It makes me think I was right about the Frost/Lynch dynamic.

Thirty minutes in I was pleasantly surprised. Lynch abandones everything we knew about Twin Peaks to establish new characters in a lightly related murder with new actors. A pretty badass move especially when you consider that rabid fans were eagerly awaiting answers.

But Everyone has a breaking point. I reached mine pretty soon. Once we get back to Twin Peaks with all the established characters that we should care about the movie starts to tank. David Lynch basically wanks off for an hour, throwing random shit at the audience and not improving any of the relationships that were so effortless early-on. Some speculate that Laura Palmer's death being suspense-less has something to do with it. I think there are more fundamental problems.

Characters act out of character. Questions aren't answered. Everyone not only looks too old for high school, they look too old for college. The movie is mean-spirited. The light-hearted comedy from the series is absent. The opening, while interesting, doesn't work with the rest.  Scenes seem out of place, half-assed, or improvised. Every great shot/sequence is buried by five flat or off-putting ones. This is David Lynch at his Lynchiest (worst).

Remember me from the show? Good thing there aren't
twenty other people this movie could be showcasing. 

Of all of the avenues "Twin Peaks" could have gone down "Fire Walk With Me" seems to be the absolute worst. A plot we've already heard, where what I imagined was more vivid and fulfilling than the feature-film production. It's like when you see a film-version of a book you love. It is never accurate to what you imagined, and betrays details that you thought were important. Since we heard about Laura Palmer for numerous hours, and got intimate details about the murder, her life, and what it all means. The movie is a bastardization of "Twin Peaks" and a horrible David Lynch masurbation-a-thon. Fuck this shit.

Hey, If I murdered a guy in cold blood do you think anyone would notice or tell the police? What if I killed a cop? At the very least would it betray my characterization as a laid-back, slacker, get-rich-quick goof ball? Yeah, I didn't think so either. 

The Last Wave

Last week I reviewed Peter Weir's "The Way Back," and just after I watched his 1977 Criterion Collection inductee, "The Last Wave."

The earlier picture is about an Australian lawyer, played by Richard Chamberlain, whose latest clients are a group of aborigines accused of murder. They killed a man for breaking tribal law, but their insistence on modernity manifests itself as a refusal to admit so. While on paper the premise sounds like a set-up for a court procedural, Weir injects dream sequences, and pagan fantasy into the plot.

I'm not sure he could have done otherwise but the film is loaded with water imagery. It is called "The Last Wave" after all. The early scenes of the house flooding because of a bath tub mix nicely with the submerged tribal grounds at the end.

It could have something to do with my ignorance of aborigines, but something about this movie is lacking. The court case never picks up for one thing. And the central lawyer accepts his visions mid-way through in a full-on acknowledgement by Weir that the supernatural is relevant. Basically, we're not invested in the trial, and since we know the rational man believes in spirits, and prophecies that the foreshadowing is going to follow through. Too bad we have to wait so long for such a weak final moment.

Chamberlain emerges from a sewer onto a beach where he knows a giant wave is coming to cleanse the land. Look, if you can't afford to show a giant wave destroying a major city, there are plenty of other ways of stylistically showing that besides cutting to some stock footage of a wave's crest. Chamberlain could have just started to see some flooding in the sewer and the audience would have known what happened. The opening scene of the wave smashing the schoolhouse was way more effective and it barely showed any water at all beyond the usual movie-studio-rain-machine.

"The Way Back" and "The Last Wave" are nice looking movies by a confident director, but both lack a vital connection to small-scale human conflict. Survival stories, and modern prophets are interesting, but we shouldn't forget what these giant tales are about; individuals.

The Small Back Room

I'm really into this idea that a writer/director team shares the credit for everything under the banner of "The Archers." These movies open up with an archery target getting shot, and a wooden arrow sticking out: A production of the Archers.


The Archers are Michael Powell amd Emeric Pressburger.  They were film partners for a number of years, making some absolutely classic films together. The two, when referring to each other, say things like "it is very rare to meet someone so completely different, yet knows what you are going to say before you say it." They're responsible for four entries on the British Film institutes list of the 100 best movies and Powell alone claims one more.

One of their post-WW2 efforts was "The Small Back Room," a film about an alcoholic, with a prosthetic leg, working with a secret intelligence unit in a tiny space, which could more accurately be described as a small back room.  Star David Farrar splits his time between self-pity for his leg injury, investigating mysterious bombs, and maintaining his relationship with his neighbor/office's secretary Kathleen Byron.

Farrar fights his alcoholism in an over-the-top expressionist scene where the bottle of whiskey he wants to drink is so large, and unstable that it is in danger of crushing him. His neurosis transforms a direct movie into a German horror film from the 20s. The Archers film a straight drama as a high contrast noir; a move that more people should attempt based on how well it works here.

That unique sequence along with the tense, pebble beach bomb disposal make "The Small Back Room" work. The bomb disposal comes as a hang-over reaffirming Farrar's life at the moment he is closest to losing his. He has to unlock a small case, but too much movement will make the bomb explode. The expert who previously attempted to dismantle the bomb died. Farrar also has to deal with small rocks sliding, potentially ending his life. It is a great, intense scene that works on its own while simultaneously underlining the movies' base themes.

Wry humor slips in, and the central romance is unconventional for this time period. Clearly The Archers know what they are doing. "The Small Back Room" might not be an audacious, game-changer of a film, but the strong hand of its directing team make it worth the investment.

The Emperor and the Assassin

Chen Kaige, director of "Farewell My Concubine," was first to the punch about the Cultural Revolution and also to the China unification story. I'm referring to the similarities between Kaige's "Farewell My Concubine" and Yimou's "To Live," as well as Kaige's "The Emperor and the Assassin," and Yimou's "Hero." The directors are perhaps the most well known of China's fifth generation of filmmakers and they started their careers with the same film, "Yellow Earth" with Chen as director and Zhang as cinematographer, so it is curious why they would each attempt the same stories.

"The Emperor and the Assassin" takes a completely different approach than "Hero." The earlier film has the first emperor as a tyrant, manipulating others and striking with a ruthless fist in the name of ambition. He plans to overtake all remaining five kingdoms one at a time. To do this he sets up a mock-assassination attempt, to justify the subsequent invasions.

The problem arises when Gong Li, the emperor's former lover, switches sides because of the rampant cruelty she sees. She finds an Assassin of great skill, living a hermetic life as penance for past murders, and she enlists him to actually kill the man.

We'e given a great cross-section of battles, palace life, and poor-filled alleyways. After all, this was the most expensive film in Chinese history at the time ($20 million in 1998).  The emperor is a fascinating character; how he laughs maniacally, and shouts with such force. The assassin likewise has wonderful stage-presence, but his calm, sly smile, and confident power are an excellent counter-point. Gong Li at the center is solid as always, and she holds up the threads necessary to piece everything together.

Whereas "Hero" is about color, memory, honesty, and legends, "The Emperor and the Assassin" is about greed, justice, honor, and history. In "The Emperor and the Assassin," the assassination misses by a small margin, but in "Hero" the assassination misses on purpose. Both are great films and perfect examples of how to treat the same material with completely different final products.

Gate of Flesh

The story behind director Seijun Suzuki is that he was ordered to make quick, low budget genre movies to act as the B-film on the studio's double bill, but he delivered stylish art-house classics behind their back. He progressed further and further towards abstraction, and surrealism until he was finally fired after handing in "Branded to Kill" a nonsensical mind-fuck.

Before the infamous firing he hopped genres and styles frequently. His "Gate of Flesh" is notable for being on of the first Japanese movies to show nudity and be marketed that way (though it is tame and stylized as expected). The film is about post-WWII Japan where a group of young women band together as prostitues where the collective group act as a pimp and they make their own rules. Don't break the rules or you'll be flogged, beaten, bare-headed, and thrown out.

Into this lovely mess comes a wounded, escaped convict who has just murdered an American and needs to hide out. He is played by Joe Shishido (star of several Suzuki pictures including the aforementioned "Branded To Kill" and my personal favorite "Youth of the Beast") as the proto-typical alpha-male. Shishido is memorable for his puffy chipmunk face, and I just read that the cheeks were a cosmetic implant to make him seem more manly. I wouldn't say it makes him look more manly unless it is manly for men to always look like they are eating meatballs, or have cotton balls stuck in their mouth.

The story is high melo-drama with each of the four color-coded strumpets falling in love with the man. Suzuki gets indulgent with colors, backgrounds and sets, and turns a fairly standard plot into a visionary classic. The primary color monologues, the whore house, the sweating, the repetition of outfits; Everything works.

One thing I noticed that I particularly loved (and proves Suzuki's ambition) was the scene where the traditionally dressed prostitute goes to a restaurant and has a conversation with a john that is overheard by Shishido. We only see the woman from behind as she sits at the counter, in a close shot. It is almost exactly like the introduction of "Vivra Sa Vie," Godard's take on Parisian prostitution. It shouldn't come as a surprise that someone so clearly gifted and impressionistic as Suzuki would be interested and influenced by cutting-edge international cinema, but seeing the homage was a pleasure.

Phil Ochs: There But For Fortune

Phil Ochs was an interesting man, fully deserving of a documentary. I must be in the minority, however, that doesn't give a shit about "the radical 60s," beat poetry, or protest songs. I like the records Ochs made in the studio (especially "Pleasures of the Harbor") way more than Draft Dodger Rag, and I Ain't Marchin Anymore.   


And that's really why the movie falls apart. We get, what, thirty seconds of The Crucifixion? Without even a mention of how insane the music is for that song, or the process involved to make that song so unique, and how synth pioneer Joseph Byrd was specifically recruited.  They don't even ask Van Dyke Parks (composer of "Call Me Claus") about the recording process. There are just way too many talking heads speaking endlessly about the times.

I admit that current events influenced Ochs' music more than most, but in a documentary about single man, the history timeline as plot technique was the easy way out.

At least the movie ends well. After the constant string of current events we get the end of the Vietnam War, and Ochs' slow descent towards suicide.  The film finally opens up and people who knew the man tell interesting stories about how he was going crazy, drank too much, and was slammed by depression. Maybe the whole movie could have been like this. I liked hearing that Ochs stayed inside a small house for weeks playing "Jim Dean From Indiana" over and over again on the piano. And how he loved eating, and bought his daughter a set of encyclopedias. Slash out all that bullshit archive news footage, and hippie nonsense, and insert stories, memories, and insights.

Animal Kingdom

I'd read that "Animal Kingdom" is like an Australian "Goodfellas." It isn't.

The great opening scene sums up way too much of the movie. In it, the central character is watching "Deal or No Deal" and right next to him on the couch is his dead mother. The EMS come, check her pulse and take her away, while the son is moving his head around trying to watch the game show. He is a stupid, naive, dull central character and the most mileage "Animal Kingdom" gets out of him is in this opening scene.

From there he is re-introduced to his grandmother and uncles who run a small-time drug ring. The cops are getting anxious and start harassing the uncles more and more until one day the most sensible uncle is shot, point-blank by a cop in a supermarket parking lot.  I'm not a fan of cheap plotting like a face-less cop shooting a character for no reason. I understand that it sets everything else into motion, but it seems particularly lazy.

As the film goes on the other uncles want revenge, the cops give chase, shooting, murder, drama...boring. The only police officer who comes to the forefront is Guy Pierce as a good cop trying to help. We never see the cops who are involved with the shooting, or the ones who are shot. We're given a miserable cast of characters with minimal investment and cheap twists. The girlfriend murder was so pointless and exploitative. How did the crazy uncle die? Why was he running away? Why did the cops follow and shoot him yet the other uncles stayed at home like nothing was wrong? Terrible.

I'm all for gritty crime movies, but get the story straight, put some life into the main character, and stop delivering cop-outs.

The Way Back

Goddamn. Another one of those movies where Russian's speak in English with an accent. Except this time the movie tricked me. They had all these people in the Gulag from different regions, so maybe, I thought, they are all just speaking English because it is a common language. That would be fine enough, but it seems so random. People speak in Russian, they speak in Polish, they speak in English.  And even with a plot point excusing it having British actors talk in these strained accents is still tiring.

The one aspect of the movie I won't complain about is the cinematography. From snow covered Russia, through the Mongolian desert, the Chinese highlands, and the Indian mountains whoever filmed this movie is obsessed with "Lawrence of Arabia." Long deep shots of gorgeous landscapes are dotted by these plodding, boring survivors.

That's the real problem with "The Way Back," the characters don't mean shit. They are all fighting for their lives in these massive landscapes yet they never come forward with any personality. As such everything melds together into a lovely travelogue, but an unfulfilling motion picture.

Mission accomplished if the goal was to visit some amazing locations and get a studio to pay for it, but a total failure in terms of story, acting, and flow. I'm trying to think back to who the characters were. Uhh, there was Colin Farrell and he was a mean guy with tattoos who vanished after a certain point. And then there was Ed Harris who had all these deep lines in his face, and stared with a serious look in his eyes for the entire movie. There was Saoirse Ronan who was some girl who joined the guys, and had dry lips at that one part. And Jim Sturgess was so thoroughly bland as the central character that he quite possibly sucked the life out of this entire movie. I think there were two or three other guys. Maybe. There could have been four. I just watched this and I can't remember.

Farewell My Concubine

Along with trying to watch the entirety of Zhang Yimou's films (director of "Hero" and "Raise the Red Lantern") I've also started to catch a few of his Chinese 5th wave contemporaries, such as Chen Kaige, whose "Farewell My Concubine" and "The Emperor and the Assassin" I recently viewed.

"Farewell My Concubine" is a sweeping epic. The first hour has the main characters as children in a harsh Peiking Opera orphanage, getting beaten for imperfections, and struggling through a difficult life. They grow up attached, and famous as the biggest stars in China. A woman (Gong Li) comes between them and the constant wars change their lifestyles and attitudes. Kaige uses the opera to show how radically China changed, from its days as a rich-get-richer powder keg to the complet opposite of the counter-revolutionary witch hunts of the Great Proletariate Cultural Revolution.

"Farewell My Concubine" is actually pretty similar to a couple of other films in my direct orbit, Aronofsky's "Black Swan" and Yimou's "To Live." Yimou used a puppeteer and his wife (Gong Li again) to show the change in China during the Communist takeover in "To Live." These early 90s films were the first to show the Cultural Revolution, which seems impossible to present in a positive light considering how badly it destroyed the entire country, but both of these films were still banned in China. The Chinese government doesn't condone the Cultural Revolution but if they go against it they are criticizing the party, and in their eyes questioning their right to rule. Both opted to give a history through the decades to show the joy of the removal of the old government, and the horror at the realization that the new one was worse.

The similarity to "Black Swan" is that both use a classic opera as frame-story and a plot device. The actions of the "Black Swan" are a reflection of Swan Lake, just like the actions of "Farewell My Concubine" are a reflection of the Chinese Opera of the same name. "Black Swan" uses the frame to explore dark, moody atmosphere reflective of current, more abstract styles of adventurous filmmaking, while "Farewell My Concubine" uses the opera to show a historical timeline with the dissolution/upheaval of the old ways echoed in the opera's story. An interesting device if only because the reenforcement of the story helps to understand the themes and inject a classical spoonful into difficult movies.

"Farewell My Concubine" is an interesting film. It is maybe too long, or too unfocused (the characters become secondary to history in the last half) but the eccentricities of a gender-confused, bi-polar main character who becomes addicted to drugs, consumed by jealousy, and a prostitute  is very rare in Chinese big-budget cinema and actually... all cinema. I am fascinated by China, and movies like "Farewell My Concubine" (the only Chinese film to win the Palm d'Or) present history in a grand, unusual, very important way.

Black Swan

Which swan is she this time?

Hot off the success of "The Wrestler" and not a trace of "The Fountain" in sight (fuck off "The Fountain" fans!), Darren Aronofsky seems destined for a great career. Critics will hurt their wrists beating this film off for being a "modern version of an operatic classic" but that kind-of betrays the thriller feel the director was going for.

Natalie Portman stars as a meek, virginal, dancer, perfectionist who finally gets her big break while at the same time going through an emotional breakdown. "Black Swan" Simultaneously shows the strenuous conditions of a professional dancer, both emotional and physical, while also re-enacting the ballet in real life that they are rehearsing backstage.

I mentioned the critics betraying the tone because at its heart "Black Swan" is a fairy tale set as a nail-biter. Can an emotional breakdown account for many of the plot twists, or happenings (like the opposite knees, black goose bumps, and mysterious cunnilingus)? The "modern" label says to me science or psychology explaining the forces of good and evil. Do they need to? I'm pretty sure the movie tells us it all doesn't matter. We're told the Swan Lake story early on, and I find it curious that audience members are ignoring what is pretty blatant. How could anyone see this and not expect tragedy.

Pushing things along Aronofsky creates tension and mood throughout, even in scenes that have no threat. Natalie Portman having a conversation with her mother shouldn't have people at the edge of their seats, yet here it does to excellent effect. Modern opera my ass. This is a horror film. People have been coming out of screenings exhausted.  Some dislike the approach, but it is undeniably effective.

Extra props goes out to the camera man who filmed 50% of this movie in rooms covered in mirrors, and created a claustrophobic atmosphere nonetheless. I'm also glad I didn't see this with a ballerina so she could tell me all about how Portman and Mila Kunis's flow was disastrous or something. And nothing took me out of the movie (besides maybe the backwards knees). Now I'll look forward to the "Lone Wolf and Cub" remake that Aronofsky has said he was gonna make for the past decade.

Call Me Claus

Is it still slavery if you are delivering toys and not picking cotton?

As suitable revenge for getting him "Tiptoes" and "Hollow Point" in our bad movie challenge, my brother Tim gave me a seriously wretched Christmas present/counter attack in the form of "Call Me Claus." Whoopi Goldberg is on the cover sitting on Santa's lap, with a huge "oh boy" grin. There is a bubble that says the movie contains "new music from Garth Brooks" and under the title the tagline reads "If she's going to save Christmas, she's got some big shoes to fill." Yeah, we know it's going to suck, but just how much is a tantalizing mystery.

To talk about this film any longer I really need a disclaimer. I promise that I'm not making up any of the plot synopsis, and that what actually happens in the movie is what I'll be putting down.

Here is it; The film opens with Whoopi Goldberg's character as a young girl going to a department store to sit on Santa's lap. But get this, the Santa in the store is the REAL SANTA. Not just some asshole with a fake beard. And apparently he needs to find a replacement Santa because his 200 year term is almost up. In order to find that replacement all he needs to do is put his red and white hat on people to see if it glows. He puts it on young Whoopi and it shines. But then he forgets or something and doesn't convince her to become the next Santa. And uhh, her dad dies in Vietnam the same day. Nothing says merry Christmas like the casualties of war.

Fast forward thirty years and Whoopi is a hardened television producer for a home shopping network that is holding open-casting for a Santa. So then, the real Saint Nick, Chris Cringle, Santa Claus auditions. Isn't that hilarious?! And somehow he gets the job, beating out the likes of bikini Santa girl, and mobster Santa guy in a wife-beater.

Santa has some ulterior motives however. He goes to the audition to see if Whoopi has enough Christmas spirit to surpass him, and the show filming will give them four weeks to get to know each other. Oh, and this four weeks is dreadfully important because if a replacement isn't found by the end of the four weeks the world will end. Yeah. Again, nothing says Christmas like impending apocalypse.

I know it will surprise everyone but the film fucks it all up. Santa says that the flood in Genesis (Moses and shit) happened because of the whole Santa replacement problem, but we all know that the real Santa, Saint Nikolaos Di Bari, died in 343 AD, well after Jesus, and thousands of years after the events of the book of Genesis. Silly "Call Me Claus," what the fuck were you thinking?

Predictably Whoopi and Santa eventually get along (although Whoopi is a major bitch, more so than needed, and only in the last 10 minutes does she come around, and this is one of those movies that seems like it lasts forever). All this Santa replacement talk got me thinking though. So basically, Whoopi is chosen to be the next Santa because a magic hat glows when worn by the right person. But now, since she is the only candidate, Whoopi is forced to spend 200 years as Santa. I don't care if being Santa is awesome (although the current Santa has these weird depressed moments and of course the possible genocide of the entire Earth resting on his conscience) the whole movie seems to be advocating slavery. Whoopi will be forced to work for 200 years or her family (and everyone's family) will be put to death. This might be the world's first pro-slavery Christmas movie ever.

I guess the writers needed to add conflict to the story. What better way than to introduce mass murder and indentured servitude into the Christmas mythology?

I actually watched this on Christmas day, while people were with their families being happy, drinking hot cocoa, I was kicking my legs in the air and punching the couch in frustration. In fairness, Tim was there the whole time with me, though he tried to jump ship midway. He was all like "I'll be back in a minute" and I said, "Fine, I'll pause it for you," and he said "Shit. Okay, I'll stay." At the time is seemed better to make it a metaphorical double suicide, than to have any survivors.

On top of the pro-slavery/genocide plot Van Dyke Parks, the amazing composer who has worked with such artists as The Beach Boys, Phil Ochs, and Joanna Newsom, composed the generic score. It all doesn't seem right. That's like Josh Groban singing the theme song to a porno.

After all of the above the worst offense this movie makes is that it is punishingly boring. That is abosulte worst thing a movie can be. I'll watch anything bad as long as it is fascinating, misguided, or pitiful, but as soon as I start hating my life, I start hating the movie. "Call Me Claus" is a fucking awful movie. Simple as that. It isn't Christmassy, it feels like it lasts for an eternity, and the characters are selfish, annoying, and slavery advocates. How was there a time when people thought Whoopi was funny, and why did those dividends ruin my Christmas?

Felidae

This isn't the cat that Francis has sex with, and blindy on
the right dies off-screen in yet another sex-fueled murder.

High up on the how-could-this-possibly-exist list is "Felidae," a German animation starring talking feline detectives about sex-fueled cat murder, eternal life science experiments, and a Jesuit researcher. Oh, and Boy George sings the theme song which name checks characters and sub-plots from the film.

You might get thrown for a loop the first time one of the cats swears, or when they talk about cats "getting it up," but it only gets weirder. One of the main plots involves lead character Francis trying to not get raped by a bi-sexual, sadistic, agressor cat. And there are scenes with scientist drilling holes in cats heads with blood pouring out. Is it even worth asking who the target audience is? Have I ever seen a more emphatic "no one" in my life?

The film also looks hideous. The character design is clunky, and ugly, and the movement is awful. There is one nice looking scene where the Jesuit guy is holding up these dead cats like puppets on strings because the whole segment has a charcoal, hand-drawn feel that is not seen in the rest of the movie.

If the above is enough to peak your interest (it was enough for me although I am a bad movie masochist) then you should be on the lookout for the cat sex scene (and orgasm), and the graphic disembowelment that ends the film. When I say graphic I literally mean massive gushes of blood, and intestines bursting out of an animal's body while he flies through the air.

Goldfinger

Frequently listed among the "top 5 best" James Bond movies "Goldfinger" is a solid spy thriller.

Connery makes for a masculin, smiley, tough James Bond.  He isn't the old-ass man that Roger Moore was, nor is he the delicate special agent that Brosnan was. It's more like Daniel Craig in the real world. Most fights end after a punch or two, and Connery doesn't get his hands dirty too often.

"Goldfinger" has Connery trailing the titular villain and uncovering a plan to rob Fort Knox. Bond first steals Goldfingers' girlfriend, sleeps with her, and fails to protect her from the evil henchman, Asian, small person, cheapest-character-in-Goldeneye Odd Job. Bond takes it a little personally and goes after Goldfinger, only to get captured.

From there we learn that Goldfinger's plan involves a squadron of crop dusters, led by Pussy Galore, flying over Fort Knox with sleeping gas, and yes this is a pretty stupid plot. Connery, tries to escape but gets captured again and just when you think all is fucked a last minute twist comes up:

James Bond saves the day by seducing Pussy Galore. Could that be a summary of the entire series?

He doesn't make some clever escape, or outsmart the bad guy. he just fucks the right woman and converts her evil will into a lusty good. Still, dumb plot, bad twist and all, Connery is fun to watch, the movie is under two hours (the same unfortunately can't be said for most Bond adventures), and everything moves and looks quite nicely.

The opening credits are interesting to note as well. They were done by Robert Brownjohn (former New York graphic design giant) where he projected scenes from the film onto the golden hued bodies of a bunch of models. Pretty cool to see the germination of those wild psychadelic sound-stage intros of subsequent Bond films.

Unfaithfully Yours

The story of Preston Sturges is that he was a popular writer/director recognized by critics as a savant and frequently recognized by audiences as a crowd pleaser. He had a five film or so golden period but then a string of bombs initiated a career implosion.  He made many attempts to get his former fame back. "Unfaithfully Yours" is one such late-period Sturges film. He goes for so much, and accomplishes nearly all of it that it is a shame audiences didn't respond positively and that this masterpiece in effect helped end Sturges' carrer.

Rex Harrison stars as an orchestra conductor completely in love with his wife. When his brother-in-law reports that the wife was seen leaving her apartment one night to visit another man Harrison goes insane with jealousy. He is merely stand-offish at first but then during a night concert he envisions various ways to trap, murder, or abandon his wife.

I'm sure audiences didn't want to like this semi-homicidal man, but Sturges fills the film with so much clever wordplay and general slapstick that they should have been distracted. Take for example Harrison's convoluted imagining of recording a record of him screaming, and changing the rpm setting to make it sound like his wife which will then implicate another man in her murder. When seeing the fantasy the audience might be distracted by the actual murder and not realize just how stupid the plan is. Sturges knows this and when Harrison attempts to go through with the plan nothing works out like he imagined. He can't find the record player, he can't figure out how to work it, he breaks a chair, he falls down, his wife offers to help him, and he gives up. This is the purest form of black comedy. An actually funny, touching, dark movie.

There are certain movies I watch an think "I want this on the list among my favorite movies." It isn't merely great. It connects differently. "Unfaithfully Yours" is now one of my favorites. It is unexpected, wildly ambitious, genuinely funny, and well written. One of the greats.

Fair Game

I'm not talking about the "Fair Game" with Billy Baldwin and Cindy Crawford. That was an opposites-attract crime thriller that has Crawford playing a lawyer, the other one is a based-on-a-non-fiction-book political potboiler.

This "Fair Game" would probably have gotten more attention if it didn't have such a generic title. They probably had to keep the name since it is the same as Valerie Plame's novel, but I seriously think that has a lot to do with it. Because the film itself is quite good. Doug Liman is perfectly suited to direct the type of quick-moving espionage tale.

And as the third of Naomi Watt's 2010 features (the others being "Mother and Child" which was terrible, and "You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger" which I have no desire in seeing) "Fair Game" is easily the best. Watts plays a double agent whose cover is compromised by conflicting interests in the White House. Her husband, Sean Penn, doesn't want to roll over and take it so he fights back against Watts wishes. There is a good mix of marital turmoil and global adventure.

The whole film is very reminiscent of "All the President's Men." White House cover-up, slowly revealed clues, newspaper headlines, and most similar is the way they both end; with actual news footage. "Fair Game" doesn't have it's Jason Robards, but Penn and Watts do an admirable job with some better-than-decent material.

I liked seeing an inside view on Plame's job, and how her life changed so drastically. Having the climax *Spoilers*  be the emotional peak where Watts decides to unite with Penn might have been the only reasonable ending point to the story in story-arc terms, but I would have liked to go further. The same insider feel for Plame's life after she speaks up would have been welcome, and if nothing else would have separated it from its obvious inspiration. Still very entertaining.

Rabbit Hole

"Rabbit Hole" is the latest from director John Cameron Mitchell. To say that no one expected him to follow up his previous film "Shortbus" (about a group of sexually frustrated young people who converge on a transexual cabaret - or something - known widely for its use of unsimulated sex) with a quiet marital drama based on an acclaimed play is a massive understatement. Even reading his name in the credits I still didn't fully believe it.

Nicole Kidman and Aaron Eckhart star as a couple attempting to cope with the death of their young son. Each deals with the devastation differently, and separately. She gardens, bakes, and stalk a young boy. He works, plays squash, and flirts with Sandra Oh.

This should be a really sad, weepy kind of movie, but it mostly isn't. The bright colors, and lovely cinematography at least convey a calm image even if the story seems drab. And these characters aren't above having an occasional laugh, or bout of normalcy. That is perhaps why the film is pleasant to watch. The people feel real, and though their situation is tragic, they seem to be about to cross the hump.

The downside of the film is Nicole Kidman. I understand the depression her character must be going through but she seems to be reprising her shrill bitch role from "Margot at the Wedding" a bit too much.  Her conversations with the high school kid are way more effective character-wise than her outbursts at the bowling alley and the supermarket. Likewise, the marijuana scene seems particularly ridiculous. So Eckhart gets high and laughs hysterically at people describing how their children died? Is that how pot works?

Besides a few negative points "Rabbit Hole" is a well acted, great looking film. John Cameron Mitchell should take more left turns.

Winter's Bone

A white-trash noire as if that were a previous genre.

Jennifer Lawrence stars as a stubborn, determined young girl who must find her missing father or face home foreclosure. She takes care of her siblings and mentally sick mother just barely surviving through great effort, squirrel hunting, and the generosity of her neighbors.  She knows her father is involved in meth cooking and that some distant relatives are somehow responsible for his disappearance.

The first third of the film has Lawrence walking from house to house trying to piece together clues and leads. This introduces the wide array of grimy supporting characters and establishes the tone of the rest of the movie. Most important is her estranged uncle Teardrop, a badass with a tiny heart of gold (played by John Hawkes, probably most known as Kenny Powers' brother from "Eastbound and Down"). Lawrence and Hawkes decide to take on their rivals in a slow showdown that will surely end in death.

The tone is bleak and windy, but the authentic setting, and great central performances really sell this thing. The overall mood of the film feels very unique, and Lawrence is destined to go far if she can act this well in anything else.  I'll bet audiences can't wait for Lawrence to settle everything straight only to realize that the goal of the whole film is to return to a regularized hand-to-mouth existence. She is an endearing character, and the odds are stacked against her for the benefit of the audience since she can't help but win, or at least we hope so.

The Social Network

By now you've probably heard about the rapid-fire dialogue, and the story, and the performances. Some are saying "over-hyped." I am not. "The Social Network" is a fantastic movie.

I expect the Michael Cera/Jessie Eisenberg jokes to stop right about now. Eisenberg, it turns out, is capable of different shades of awkward, and real menace. He owns "The Social Network" as a driven, socially odd, force of nature.

The other parts of the film come together nicely as well. The "Benjamin Button" indulgence is gone from David Fincher's veins, and in place we have a tight, well-oiled machine of a movie. One that isn't lifeless, or droney either. The timeline cuts are fluid and actually serve a purpose.

Armie Hammer (and seriously, his birth name is Armand Hammer) does a great job with the Winklevoss twins. I was surprised to find out that one actor played both boys since they have chemistry together, and both are played differently. The tone of voice Hammer goes for with the twins is perfect, and their rich-kid fluster is also well done.

Fast-paced, entertaining movie. It's at the top of the heap.

Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time

I've had a complex for a long time concerning movies where every foreign country's dialect is just transformed into British English. For instance, all of the characters in "Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time," who are supposed to be in ancient Persia, talk like they (at best) are on vacation at their summer house in Wales. And at worst they are clearly American's speaking with strained impressions.

Standing firmly in the camp of the latter is Jake Gylleennnhaalll as Aladin. Well his name is something a little different but it should be Aladin. Take the opening scene for example; the young version of Jake steals and throws an apple to defend a moppet getting whipped by the king's entourage. The bodyguards give chase and Aladin runs along rooftops to escape. Then, uhh, the king decides to adopt the boy I guess because of his prowess, and mostly because of narrative convenience.

The main plot line of the movie concerns a magic dagger filled with magic sand and an evil conspiracy by an evil mystery man to take over the good kingdom from the good king. If you're having trouble envisioning all this in Persia you don't really have to, green screens and white people with a dash of pointy eye liner will do all the leg work (and not convince a single person, even a total idiot).

After a scene where the adult Gyllenhall and his prince brothers raid a city, steal a magic dagger and kidnap a princess there is a celebration scene. The king gets murdered and Jake gets blamed for it with only enough time to grab the princess, and the dagger and escape. Then we learn that the dagger has a button on it that when pressed can reverse time for about 15 seconds. But, in a horrible delivery of premise the sand is too precious so it is only used three times in the movie, for mostly inconsequential means. Unless you think that using it to stab a snake in a cool way is vital.

Throw in some quirky characters like a knife throwing African, and an ostrich racing baron, and this movie starts to seem especially insipid. And that is somehow before I've even mentioned the dumbest plot point of all; the magic hourglass of the sand.

So this sand comes from the gods. They were going to Noah's-Ark-style flood the world with sand because of human cruelty but a little pure-hearted girl sacrificed herself to save humanity. The gods canceled their plans and in place left a giant hidden hour glass of time-reversing sand that when used will destroy the earth (?). The evil mystery man wants to use this sand to travel back in time but we all know that the world will end. So what the fuck. Why does the sand exist? Why would this be a plot point, since it doesn't make any sense. Why not destroy the dagger, or gradually disperse all the sand around to make it impossible to activate? Oh, and it turns out it can reverse time and not destroy the world too, at the last minute right when everyone should have melted, and the rules are broken at the most convenient deus-ex-machina-fuck-off moment.

What a piece of shit guv-nah.

The King's Speech

Has anyone remarked how this is basically a prequel to Stephen Frear's 2006 film "The Queen?" Both feature intimate portraits of the royal family, some of the same locations, and some of the same principle characters.

"The King's Speech" is the story about the stammering man-who-would-be-king George VI. Early on Geoffrey Rush's speech therapist instructs Colin Firth's Royal Highness to change occupations not knowing the latter's position as one of England's preeminent diplomats. The idea here being the small scale drama involving a stutter is juxtaposed against the looming threat of Germany prior to World War 2.

On the craft side of the film everything works well. The sets are lovely, especially Rush's workplace with its frayed walls, high ceilings and unusual layout. The color of the film is rich, and pleasant, and the camera work adds some drama to the staid repetition of speech lessons. The acting is likewise excellent. I'm not sure I would hand Firth the oscar just yet (I actually thought he was better in "A Single Man") but his performance is very good.

The only fault I have with this film is that it is a bit predictable and narratively convenient. Just before the final act Rush's credentials are compromised, and the dynamic pair have to resolve their differences before the big denouement! Once they do the final speech is a piano-y, everyone on the edge of their seats, rousing moment, that anyone could see coming from a mile away. Kind of sucks that the king's stammer was corrected ages before the war in real life. I'm talking 12 years before the closing act speech. "Based on a True Story" my ass. Would there not be enough gravitas without a World War in the background. Seems like some bull shit.

Creative license is one thing, but I could tell the story was too convenient before I double-checked. Well made, enjoyable film, but a sliver off.