glaaaarg
Insightful, meaningful observations on life? Nope, we're fresh out of those. Asinine movie reviews? Yes, we have that, thanks to a very long and movie-filled weekend. This is a really long post. I hope you all read it.
Good Night and Good Luck - Ah, the heady days of 1950s television news, where men were men, women were women, and the smoke clouds could choke a moose. An era where journalism often angered and threatened the corporate machines that ran broadcast news departments, rather than simply parroting what was given to them. Director/writer/actor/possibly caterer George Clooney seems to have nothing but love for this era, and crafted quite an exquisite love letter to Edward R. Murrow and the rest of the CBS news team in the form of Good Night and Good Luck. To be certain, there is a lot to like about this movie. The cinematography is rich, provocative, and wisely monochromatic. Clooney is fine in his role as co-producer Fred Friendly,and David Strathairn is a dead ringer for Murrow in both appearance and mannerism. The decision to utilize file footage of McCarthy rather than hire an actor to play him also allows the film to have a more palpable "villain", if you will, and also allowed the actors to express more realistic reactions than they would have gathered from another actor. Pretty much everything about the movie is a class act, and incredibly well-researched. Yet, it doesn't quite seem to shake the stigma of hero worship. It's clear that Clooney admires the work that Murrow did - and with good reason - but Murrow is portrayed as a heroic protector of liberty and democratic values. Apart from his smoking habit, which literally everyone seemed to have back then (to the point that it's almost a subplot of commentary in the film), he is without vice. I've done a little research on Murrow since seeing the movie, and while I see nothing to support the notion he's anything less than a stand up guy, he also couldn't have been perfect.
But then again, Good Night and Good Luck is just as much an indictment of the modern media as it is a historical docudrama. The film's portayal of Murrow is less that of a driven, dedicated man than it is an illustration of an idea. The film holds Murrow and Friendly and co. up to today's newscasters and says to them: "Do you see this? This is what you should be. Now straighten up and fly right, or I'll force you all to sit through Batman and Robin." Because what sort of world is it where the news, which ought to be a public service and in the interests of the common good, is dictated by the mandates of commercialism and entertainment? Why is it that we have 'round-the-clock coverage of Natalee Holloway and the Michael Jackson trial where there should be more in-depth investigations of the government and the private sector? Alas, these are merely rhetorical questions. I know the answers just as well as you do, and it's a sorry state that we have entered as a society where we expect to be entertained rather than informed by the news. And perhaps this is the greatest appeal of the film: it's fun to dream of a time where journalism was not merely a job, but a committment to the world around you. That's why, despite its incredibly slow pacing, the movie earns five star-type thingies.
I have three more to review, so here's a nice little cut for you. You're welcome.
Three Extremes - Hooboy. I want to say lots of nice things about this anthology of Asian horror films from acclaimed directors in China, Korea, and Japan. Because you can't deny the artistry - all the films are very well-shot, and show a level of artistic flair that's not seen in more domestic horror movies. The directors clearly know their craft, and the performances are pretty good across the board. Still, I can't shake the feeling that Asian horror films, at least these ones, are just as exploitative and gross as American ones, artistic qualities be damned. The first film, "Dumplings", is also the one that has gained the most attention for the anthology. It's about a woman who makes dumplings that can restore youth and vitality, dumplings that have a mysterious secret ingredient. At least, it would be mysterious if you weren't told in the first ten minutes that they're fetuses. That's right. Fetuses. I spoiled it for you, but it doesn't matter. Without the shock of unveiling, the film meanders along, dragging out the depravity as the main character aborts her own fetus to eat it in the quest to become younger. And then she has apparently turned into a demon, or something. The film isn't horrifying or shocking so much as it is just gross and depressing. It made me feel uncomfortable, and not in the good way. "Cut", the second film, is leagues better, as it tracks the descent into madness of a bigshot film director as he is forced to confront his own nature when a crazed extra forces him to choose between murdering a child and saving his wife. The film creates tension better than a lot of movies I've seen, and it's genuinely gripping. The ending leaves something to be desired, but that's to be expected when tension is the primary motivation for the film to exist. It's clearly the best of the three movies. Kudos to you, Korea, you're on the ball. Wish I could say the same for Japan's entry, "Box". I have no clue what this movie is about. It's about contortionist sisters, one of which murders the other out of jealousy...and then her other sister comes back? Or she doesn't? Or maybe it's all a dream? The movie raises so many questions it winds up being hard to actually care about the answers, and you spend more time being confused and irritated than enjoying the intricate and admittedly beautiful cinematography.
Maybe it's just me. Maybe I don't "get" Asian cinema unless people are getting kicked in the head. Maybe I'm just analyzing all these movies through my own ethnocentric lens. But maybe it doesn't matter. To me, it just felt like the films were concerned primarily with artistry and depravity and not enough with coherent or engaging plots. Still, I can't damn the lot, and so I must afford each movie its own rating. Dumplings gets a very reluctant one star-type thingie. Cut gets three. Box also gets one. And yet, for some reason, I didn't hate the movie as a whole. There's a lot of creative stuff going on there, and I don't regret watching it. Still, I can't shake the feeling that the movie is just shock and exploitation for the sake of it - I mean, the box quotes a review as calling it (paraphrased) "The sickest movie you'll see all year". It's pretty clear what the marketers (and possibly the creators?) were aiming for.
Unbreakable - This is more like it. I'd seen Unbreakable before, back when I was not at the height of my obsession with superheroes and what they represent. I loved it then, I am absolutely bowled over by it now. I will go down forever as saying M. Night Shamalyan is a genius. This movie, for me, is what confirms my belief. Bruce Willis puts in one of his all-time best performances as David Dunn, an Average Joe security worker who grapples with a decaying marriage at the same time he is discovering he may well be something more than a normal man. Samuel L. Jackson is rarely more likeable - and at times, creepier - than he is in his role of Elijah Price, the owner of a comic book art gallery who believes that David's miraculous survival of a horrific train wreck (with nary a scratch on him!) is indicative of something superhuman. You see, Elijah has a rare birth defect that causes his bones to break like glass, and so he is infatuated with this man who seems incapable of being hurt or getting sick. The relationship between Dunn and Price is the centerpiece of the movie, and it all builds up to a revelation that is as shocking as it is easy to predict if you pay attention.
Shamalyan's detractors criticize that all of his films are about that last shocking twist that makes everything in the movie make sense. To be fair, he's been guilty of it - it is perhaps that twist that so damaged The Village. However, such criticisms completely ignore his directorial and creative skill. He deftly uses color as symbolism, creates many iconic, lasting images, and creates a realistic, down-to-earth story with excellent dialogue and just enough supernatural qualities to keep things interesting. Watching the movie a second time, it was obvious to me where everything was headed, but even knowing the SHOCKING TWIST, I found myself engaged and absolutely in love with the movie. There's so much to talk about, particularly Shamalyan's dissection of the superhero, the heart-stopping intensity of Dunn's first heroic mission, and the movie's conceit that we look for the fantastic in our lives to give them meaning...but all I can say is it it's clearly Shamalyan's best work. It takes a lot to unseat Signs, which I feel is the best modern horror/suspense movie there is, but watching Unbreakable again makes me feel comfortable with the choice. It gets five star-type thingies, and if you haven't seen it yet you absolutely need to.
Mortal Kombat - I never liked Mortal Kombat when I was younger. Its asinine combo system, stiff controls, and overemphasis on blood and gore turned me off. I was a much bigger fan of Street Fighter, which to me allowed for more freedom and emphasized skill over rote memorization. I have softened my stance on the series somewhat, as it has gotten (slightly) better in recent years, but it's still never clicked with me. So, naturally, I never saw the 1996 live-action movie. When the erstwhile captainpelvis suggested we rent it for our weekend of cinematic devastation, however, I felt that perhaps it was time to look into it. As the weekend went on, I got gradually more excited to see it - I think the enthusiasm was infectious. I was expecting a pretty ridiculous slice of mid-nineties cheese. What I got was...well, just that, but it was better than I thought it would be. More enjoyable, at least. As much as Paul W.S. Anderson irritates me, when given the right property he can create something that does not offend the senses. Mortal Kombat does not go out of its way to be anything more than a big, dumb action movie. And I'm OK with that, because that's what the property demands. If I'm going to watch a movie about Mortal Kombat, I don't want Johnny Cage and Kano sitting on the porch discussing ennui. I want faces getting kicked. That's what the movie delivers, and it does it pretty well. The special effects have not aged well (and I think they probably weren't all that great to begin with), and it's really hard to buy Veronica Vaughn as a hardcore military woman, but this movie is not predicated upon believability. It is miles and miles away from a great film, but at least there's no pretension of what it's supposed to be. It's far better than the cinematic abortions that were Anderson's Resident Evil movies, and it's better than anything Uwe Boll can come up with. In short, Mortal Kombat is probably the best video game movie ever. This is not really much of a crown. It gets three star-type thingies.
Good Night and Good Luck - Ah, the heady days of 1950s television news, where men were men, women were women, and the smoke clouds could choke a moose. An era where journalism often angered and threatened the corporate machines that ran broadcast news departments, rather than simply parroting what was given to them. Director/writer/actor/possibly caterer George Clooney seems to have nothing but love for this era, and crafted quite an exquisite love letter to Edward R. Murrow and the rest of the CBS news team in the form of Good Night and Good Luck. To be certain, there is a lot to like about this movie. The cinematography is rich, provocative, and wisely monochromatic. Clooney is fine in his role as co-producer Fred Friendly,and David Strathairn is a dead ringer for Murrow in both appearance and mannerism. The decision to utilize file footage of McCarthy rather than hire an actor to play him also allows the film to have a more palpable "villain", if you will, and also allowed the actors to express more realistic reactions than they would have gathered from another actor. Pretty much everything about the movie is a class act, and incredibly well-researched. Yet, it doesn't quite seem to shake the stigma of hero worship. It's clear that Clooney admires the work that Murrow did - and with good reason - but Murrow is portrayed as a heroic protector of liberty and democratic values. Apart from his smoking habit, which literally everyone seemed to have back then (to the point that it's almost a subplot of commentary in the film), he is without vice. I've done a little research on Murrow since seeing the movie, and while I see nothing to support the notion he's anything less than a stand up guy, he also couldn't have been perfect.
But then again, Good Night and Good Luck is just as much an indictment of the modern media as it is a historical docudrama. The film's portayal of Murrow is less that of a driven, dedicated man than it is an illustration of an idea. The film holds Murrow and Friendly and co. up to today's newscasters and says to them: "Do you see this? This is what you should be. Now straighten up and fly right, or I'll force you all to sit through Batman and Robin." Because what sort of world is it where the news, which ought to be a public service and in the interests of the common good, is dictated by the mandates of commercialism and entertainment? Why is it that we have 'round-the-clock coverage of Natalee Holloway and the Michael Jackson trial where there should be more in-depth investigations of the government and the private sector? Alas, these are merely rhetorical questions. I know the answers just as well as you do, and it's a sorry state that we have entered as a society where we expect to be entertained rather than informed by the news. And perhaps this is the greatest appeal of the film: it's fun to dream of a time where journalism was not merely a job, but a committment to the world around you. That's why, despite its incredibly slow pacing, the movie earns five star-type thingies.
I have three more to review, so here's a nice little cut for you. You're welcome.
Three Extremes - Hooboy. I want to say lots of nice things about this anthology of Asian horror films from acclaimed directors in China, Korea, and Japan. Because you can't deny the artistry - all the films are very well-shot, and show a level of artistic flair that's not seen in more domestic horror movies. The directors clearly know their craft, and the performances are pretty good across the board. Still, I can't shake the feeling that Asian horror films, at least these ones, are just as exploitative and gross as American ones, artistic qualities be damned. The first film, "Dumplings", is also the one that has gained the most attention for the anthology. It's about a woman who makes dumplings that can restore youth and vitality, dumplings that have a mysterious secret ingredient. At least, it would be mysterious if you weren't told in the first ten minutes that they're fetuses. That's right. Fetuses. I spoiled it for you, but it doesn't matter. Without the shock of unveiling, the film meanders along, dragging out the depravity as the main character aborts her own fetus to eat it in the quest to become younger. And then she has apparently turned into a demon, or something. The film isn't horrifying or shocking so much as it is just gross and depressing. It made me feel uncomfortable, and not in the good way. "Cut", the second film, is leagues better, as it tracks the descent into madness of a bigshot film director as he is forced to confront his own nature when a crazed extra forces him to choose between murdering a child and saving his wife. The film creates tension better than a lot of movies I've seen, and it's genuinely gripping. The ending leaves something to be desired, but that's to be expected when tension is the primary motivation for the film to exist. It's clearly the best of the three movies. Kudos to you, Korea, you're on the ball. Wish I could say the same for Japan's entry, "Box". I have no clue what this movie is about. It's about contortionist sisters, one of which murders the other out of jealousy...and then her other sister comes back? Or she doesn't? Or maybe it's all a dream? The movie raises so many questions it winds up being hard to actually care about the answers, and you spend more time being confused and irritated than enjoying the intricate and admittedly beautiful cinematography.
Maybe it's just me. Maybe I don't "get" Asian cinema unless people are getting kicked in the head. Maybe I'm just analyzing all these movies through my own ethnocentric lens. But maybe it doesn't matter. To me, it just felt like the films were concerned primarily with artistry and depravity and not enough with coherent or engaging plots. Still, I can't damn the lot, and so I must afford each movie its own rating. Dumplings gets a very reluctant one star-type thingie. Cut gets three. Box also gets one. And yet, for some reason, I didn't hate the movie as a whole. There's a lot of creative stuff going on there, and I don't regret watching it. Still, I can't shake the feeling that the movie is just shock and exploitation for the sake of it - I mean, the box quotes a review as calling it (paraphrased) "The sickest movie you'll see all year". It's pretty clear what the marketers (and possibly the creators?) were aiming for.
Unbreakable - This is more like it. I'd seen Unbreakable before, back when I was not at the height of my obsession with superheroes and what they represent. I loved it then, I am absolutely bowled over by it now. I will go down forever as saying M. Night Shamalyan is a genius. This movie, for me, is what confirms my belief. Bruce Willis puts in one of his all-time best performances as David Dunn, an Average Joe security worker who grapples with a decaying marriage at the same time he is discovering he may well be something more than a normal man. Samuel L. Jackson is rarely more likeable - and at times, creepier - than he is in his role of Elijah Price, the owner of a comic book art gallery who believes that David's miraculous survival of a horrific train wreck (with nary a scratch on him!) is indicative of something superhuman. You see, Elijah has a rare birth defect that causes his bones to break like glass, and so he is infatuated with this man who seems incapable of being hurt or getting sick. The relationship between Dunn and Price is the centerpiece of the movie, and it all builds up to a revelation that is as shocking as it is easy to predict if you pay attention.
Shamalyan's detractors criticize that all of his films are about that last shocking twist that makes everything in the movie make sense. To be fair, he's been guilty of it - it is perhaps that twist that so damaged The Village. However, such criticisms completely ignore his directorial and creative skill. He deftly uses color as symbolism, creates many iconic, lasting images, and creates a realistic, down-to-earth story with excellent dialogue and just enough supernatural qualities to keep things interesting. Watching the movie a second time, it was obvious to me where everything was headed, but even knowing the SHOCKING TWIST, I found myself engaged and absolutely in love with the movie. There's so much to talk about, particularly Shamalyan's dissection of the superhero, the heart-stopping intensity of Dunn's first heroic mission, and the movie's conceit that we look for the fantastic in our lives to give them meaning...but all I can say is it it's clearly Shamalyan's best work. It takes a lot to unseat Signs, which I feel is the best modern horror/suspense movie there is, but watching Unbreakable again makes me feel comfortable with the choice. It gets five star-type thingies, and if you haven't seen it yet you absolutely need to.
Mortal Kombat - I never liked Mortal Kombat when I was younger. Its asinine combo system, stiff controls, and overemphasis on blood and gore turned me off. I was a much bigger fan of Street Fighter, which to me allowed for more freedom and emphasized skill over rote memorization. I have softened my stance on the series somewhat, as it has gotten (slightly) better in recent years, but it's still never clicked with me. So, naturally, I never saw the 1996 live-action movie. When the erstwhile captainpelvis suggested we rent it for our weekend of cinematic devastation, however, I felt that perhaps it was time to look into it. As the weekend went on, I got gradually more excited to see it - I think the enthusiasm was infectious. I was expecting a pretty ridiculous slice of mid-nineties cheese. What I got was...well, just that, but it was better than I thought it would be. More enjoyable, at least. As much as Paul W.S. Anderson irritates me, when given the right property he can create something that does not offend the senses. Mortal Kombat does not go out of its way to be anything more than a big, dumb action movie. And I'm OK with that, because that's what the property demands. If I'm going to watch a movie about Mortal Kombat, I don't want Johnny Cage and Kano sitting on the porch discussing ennui. I want faces getting kicked. That's what the movie delivers, and it does it pretty well. The special effects have not aged well (and I think they probably weren't all that great to begin with), and it's really hard to buy Veronica Vaughn as a hardcore military woman, but this movie is not predicated upon believability. It is miles and miles away from a great film, but at least there's no pretension of what it's supposed to be. It's far better than the cinematic abortions that were Anderson's Resident Evil movies, and it's better than anything Uwe Boll can come up with. In short, Mortal Kombat is probably the best video game movie ever. This is not really much of a crown. It gets three star-type thingies.