Monday, July 23, 2007

Talk to Me: Review


Don Cheadle has slowly become one of the most reliable character actors in Hollywood, always imbuing even the most minor of characters with a complete sense of humanity. Even with his obvious talents, Cheadle had difficulty obtaining any lead roles of substance until 2004's Hotel Rwanda, his Schindler's List of sorts that detailed the monstrosities of the Rwandan Genocide in 1994. Since Rwanda, Cheadle has been on something of a roll, appearing in Crash and Reign Over Me (his performance in Crash was a definite highpoint of an otherwise maddening experience) and now in Talk to Me, Kasi Lemmons' biopic of 60's and 70's Washington DC Radio DJ Petey Greene, a film that crackles with life and features Cheadle's greatest performance. However, Cheadle need not go it alone as the supporting cast, most notably Chiwetel Ejifor, Taraji P. Hudson and Martin Sheen, is marvelous here, lifting the film to greater heights.

Lemmons' third feature centers around Greene, a figure many consider to be the first radio shock jock, a precursor of sorts to entertainers such as Howard Stern and Don Imus. Greene, who begins the film in prison as the jail's radio station DJ, is able to manipulate his early release by talking down a fellow inmate from a ledge and good behavior. Once released, he goes to WOL, where he obtains a job from Ejifor's Dewey Hughes after a great deal of struggle. The rest, they say, is history as Greene enjoys a rise of meteoric proportions, becoming a social leader and voice of reason in a time that would go on to become some of the most divisive years in U.S. History. The film tracks his ascent, from radio figure to television personality to stand up comedian, each scene fueled by a wonderful soundtrack, featuring most of the decade's greatest soul hits.


Cheadle takes the character of Greene and runs with it, creating a charismatic yet ultimately flawed man that always feels nothing less that completely real. Greene begins the film as a defiant, outspoken convict but as the story progresses, Cheadle slowly and subtly evolves the character to illustrate the wear Greene's lifestyle began to take. By films end, the audience has witnessed an amazingly simple, yet wonderfully effective transformation as Greene changes from a quick talking, flashy dresser to a worn down, world weary guy. However, Cheadle continues to inject a fiery, machismo into his character that reminds the viewer that Greene may have been slowed by his experiences but that his heart and soul were never altered. He remained, up until his death, a defiantly difficult man that made it difficult to love him but harder to hate. Ultimately, what makes Cheadle's performance so endearing is Greene's faults are readily on display. They are swept under the rug, they aren't forgotten. It makes Greene all the more human and Cheadle's work all the more convincing.

Ejiofor continues to astound, leaving nothing but a trail of dynamite performances in his wake. Recently, his work in Kinky Boots, Inside Man and Children of Men have been show stopping and now with Talk to Me and American Gangster on the horizon, there is a real chance that he may be a classic actor in the making. Not only has his decisions regarding films been well made, his work in those films have been wonderful and Talk to Me is his best yet. His measured confidence provides a perfect foil for Cheadle's brash cockiness. Hudson, as Greene's girlfriend, is wonderful as well, matching her performance in Hustle and Flow. She works to ground Greene but her character is nearly as volatile and when her and Cheadle take flight, the results are magnificient as they fire quick jabs back and forth.


The film's script, penned by Michael Genet and Rick Famuyima, is a quick paced and sharp-witted look at an era that changed America. While the film is undoubtedly centered on the relationship between Cheadle and Ejiofor, it explores many of themes and issues of the 60's, most particularly the impact of the assassination of MLK and the resonance it had in the African American community. Unfortunately, the film seems to gloss over certain elements at time in favor of screen time for the friendship between the leads. While it doesn't negatively impact the film, it makes the audience wondering what could have been if, had Lemmons' pushed for more exploration of the events. There are the beginnings of a riot that are shown and the images don't resonate like they could/should. It is what keeps Talk to Me from being an unquestioned classic.

However, I don't mean to attack the film's decision to focus on the primary relationship the story revolves around. Hughes and Greene's interactions are fascinating and entertaining. They keep the film's narrative moving until it becomes clear that the film is not about one or the other but the friendship they forged/shared through the years. The final scenes are moving and effective, bringing closure to the film while inspiring the audiences. It is refreshing to see a biopic this quick moving. It is never weighed down by the patronizing of a big studio production and while many great biopics emerge from the heavy hitters in the industry, a smaller scaled one never hurts. Talk to Me leaves the viewer wanting more, more of the wonderful music that Greene played, more of the honesty the film possesses. Rather than leaving the film exhausted, like one might from the sometimes bloated bigger budget entries into the genre, the audience I saw it with was invigorated, leaving the theatre with a smile on their faces and a hop in their step. Petey would have been proud.

****

Ratatouille: Review


A gem coming out of the studios of Pixar is about as regular as the sun setting. With each passing year, Pixar releases yet another stunner. Even when the film doesn't receive the massive praise as every other entry into their filmography, such as last year's Cars, it is still warmly received and absolutely kills at the box office. Thus, when Ratatouille came into theatres this summer, Hollywood chalked it down as another success before its first screening. Needless to say, the powers that be are/were right as Ratatouille is a fine film, a crowd pleaser that should appeal to children and adults alike.

Brad Bird returns to direct his second feature at Pixar, following up the studio's crowning achievement
The Incredibles, with a story about Remy, a rat who gets separated from his family and winds up in Paris. Luckily for our fearless protagonist, Remy has a refined sense of smell and taste and he makes the best of being in one of the greatest food cities in the world. Before long, he winds up in the kitchen of Gusteau's, the restaurant of his idol and favorite chef, who unfortunately has passed away. Through a series of wild chases, he falls into hands of Linguini, the busboy of the kitchen, who is enlisted to kill the rat after Remy is caught by the evil(ish) Skinner, the chef who now runs Gusteau's following the death of its namesake. Luckily for Remy, Linguini takes a liking to him and the two begin to craft a mutually beneficial friendship that will allow Remy to live and Linguini to cook.


Bird has become the greatest craftsman of animation in America today and
Ratatouille is a welcome addition to his growing repertoire of both bona fide and near classics. His films are painstakingly created and directed, with even moments of quiet conversation receiving the same care as the larger scale action-oriented sequences. Best of all, he is a consummate storyteller, an artist who understands the power of having a good, engaging story behind all the flash and pizzazz of the computer animation. Ratatouille is filled to the brim with memorable characters, all of which receive their due time and as a result, the ensemble cast bursts from the screen with vitality and humor. It is easy to forget that Bird is responsible for the acting jobs of both the voice actors as well as the animated characters and all are excellent.

Patton Oswald, who provides the voice for Remy, is wonderful as the central character. It may seem easy but imbuing a creature like a rat with human like qualities is more difficult than one may think, given the harsh biases people hold against rodents. Remy, is never overly cute or cuddly but is never a disgusting rat even though it is made clear through the movie that his species is not the most clean of the animal kingdom. The disgusting nature of rats are played for some of the best laughs in the film. The extremely clever screenplay (penned by Bird) is a wonderfully realized examination of friendship and much like the classics of Disney's golden era, never panders to the lowest denominator, including something for everyone.


Unlike
The Incredibles which featured a literal perfect pacing Ratatouille slows at time and at a hour and fifty minutes, it may feel long for some children. However, there is enough here to warrant the running time. If nothing else, the film's visuals are jaw-dropping in their completeness, rendering even the smallest bit of texture with a minute sense of detail. In fact, by year's end, this may be one of the best visual films 2007 saw, a feast for the eyes filled with rich colors and breathtaking details. If there is a better looking complete group of films than Pixar's output, I haven't found them.

While this may be a small downgrade from
The Incredibles, it is ever so slight and serves to confirm that we are once again living in a golden age of animation being spearheaded by Pixar's continued innovation. I can not stress strongly enough that this is a film for everyone, not just children or animation nuts. In fact, there is a monologue late in the film that will undoubtedly touch the hearts and minds of every type of critic in this country and for my money, stands as one of best simplifications of the motivations behind criticism that I've ever heard. With Ratatouille, Bird has crafted yet another stunner, one that will hopefully elevate him into the upper ranks of directors working today. Note that I did not say animation directors, but directors period. His work is that good, is that mature, is that innovate that it deserves, nay, demands viewing. Not to be missed.

****

Sicko: Review


A Michael Moore film, regardless of what your feelings of the man are, is nothing less than a bona fide event, rife with controversy and discussion and for better or worse, Sicko is no different, a film that will undoubtedly provoke discussion about a serious and timely topic. Seeing as how politically charged all of Moore's work is, it is almost impossible to be an unbiased viewer. Almost everyone going into any viewing of Bowling for Columbine, Fahrenheit 9/11 or Sicko will undoubtedly already have a base of ideas that they believe to be right and just. As a result, the film will rub some people the wrong way while others will accept it as gospel. That being said, I think it is important to view the film as exactly what it is: a film. While it may be difficult to do so, I feel it imperative to rightfully remove one own's political thoughts from the subject and first and foremost, view and judge the film as a piece of cinematic output. Afterwords, if one feels as much, there can be a discussion of the film's vitriolic politics.

As a film, Sicko is a triumph, an intelligent and clever satire that has the power to deeply resonate with the viewer, assuming that the viewer allows it to. In other words, there will be people who emerge from the film unaffected, only because of the staunch defenses that they have personally raised. For someone who walks in with an open mind, the film is an emotional powerhouse, a passionate plea for understanding and reform that is devastatingly effective. In fact, for many, this may end up being Moore's most effective film, precisely due to the fact that it is also his most humane. It, unlike Columbine or Fahrenheit, is not as party driven so much as a searing indictment of a system that has been firmly in place for 30 years. While Moore assigns blame to one particular party (I'll allow you to guess), Sicko is not as oppressively one sided as his most recent works. I'll admit it, I'm a registered democrat and what many would consider to be a far left liberal. However, I was even put off by a number of moments in Fahrenheit due to its extreme lack of a larger view. It was too infatuated on Bush-bashing to create the type of argument that Moore was striving for.


Sicko is a film of two halves that go hand in hand, yet are distinctly different. The first revolves around a series of individual stories, each having to deal with different American's struggles with the healthcare/HMO industry. The second portion is a look at other countries and their healthcare system. These countries, Canada, England, France and Cuba, all have nationalized healthcare and as a result, stand in stark contrast to the United States. As an American, I found the first portion to be more moving and the second a stronger, more rational argument. Where the second half is a look at what can be, presented logically, Moore chooses to focus the first hour or so on the suffering of Americans. It is the more heartstring tugging portion and at times, feels manipulative. However, the power of the stories is strong enough to overcome any sense of forced sympathy and as a result, it is a resounding success. The people featured seem to be everyday Americans struggling to cope with medical bills, a situation I luckily have never encountered.

The second half uses the struggles of Moore's characters to build upon and with each of Moore's visits to Canada, England and France, it is obvious that the U.S. is lagging behind in the health care sector. Moore amply illustrates the ease in which people can receive care in these countries and when juxtaposed with the scenes of the first half of the film, the results are devastating. Two scenes, in particular, standout: 1) Moore visits a doctor in England who works in a hospital provided by the NHS (National Health Service); 2) Moore sits down with a group of American transplants living in Paris. Both convincingly argue for the benefits of each system's healthcare (The English doctor is loaded and is actually rewarded by the government for successfully treating patients; the American Parisians brag about their 10 weeks of paid vacations, 35 hour work weeks and generally laid back culture designed to promote healthy living) and quite frankly, provide an illuminating look at the antiquated and unfair nature of America's healthcare.


The film's final segment has proven its most divisive. Michael Moore rounds up a number of 9/11 volunteer workers (mainly EMTs) who have had difficulty receiving the healthcare they need (and deserve) in the US and takes them on a small boat cruise to Cuba, more specifically Guantanamo Bay, a trip that has subsequently come under fire by the government as being illegal. Regardless of the legality, I found this last portion to be the most hit and miss part of the film. It is the most manipulative with its blatant use of the events of 9/11 to garner support but like the rest of the film, never feels overly so. By this point in Sicko, the audience has invested enough time into the people who travel with Moore to Gitmo that one wants to see them helped, if nothing else and when they are denied care at the American owned portion of the island, they venture into mainland Cuba and surprisingly, receive the care and drugs they so desperately fought for in the US without much of a fight. The people are visibly (and understandably) moved to tears and for anyone with a heart and soul, it is difficult not to feel a sense of happiness and relief for these poor people.

As I stated at the outset, most people will have entered a Moore film with their minds already made up. That being said, after coming off Fahrenheit 9/11, which was, at times, a crushing disappointment for me, Sicko feels like a return to form for Moore. The film is intensely personal and is told from a radically liberal viewpoint. If one can tap into the train of thoughts and emotions, it will inevitably be a moving and affecting experience; if not, it will come off as a long-winded piece of (well crafted) propaganda. Ultimately, it is up to the audience to make that decision. For me to recommend the film would be a futile exercise, yet I will. For this writer, it was an emotional and powerful experience, one that I would gladly watch again with others to discuss Moore's points. I don't necessarily buy into everything that Moore throws on screen, but more often than not, Sicko is a success and in time, should rightfully take its place next to Bowling For Columbine and Roger and Me, as some of the best works from a talented, important and influential artist with the courage to stand up for his beliefs.

****

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Transformers: Review

Originally, the television cartoon series Transformers started as no more than a glorified advertisement for the toys being hawked by Hasbro and despite any pretense that Michael Bay possesses, his newest film, an update of the aforementioned TV show, is actually quite similar. It basically is there to sell the cars that the Transformers change into, to sell the toys that will inevitably follow the film as well as the sequels that the film will spawn. That being said, Transformers is one of the more entertaining commercials in recent memory, assuming that one looks for no more. Led by a surprisingly good performance by Shia LaBeouf, the film is a audio-visual feast, featuring many of Bay's signature over the top sights and sounds but for the most part, surprisingly avoiding some of the directors most absurd moments.

The film tells the story of Sam Widwicky (LaBeouf), a normal teenage boy, who has the great (mis)fortune of buying a used Camaro which turns out to be a Transformer. He also ends up being the great grandson of a famous explorer who first discovered the crash landed Megatron in the Arctic Circle, during an expedition in the late 19th century. Sam is in the possession of his ancestors glasses, which holds a tiny map to preserving life on earth if the Decepticons (the bad Transformers) were ever to attack. The map leads to a special device from the Autobots (the good Transformers)/ Decepticon's planet called the AllSpark that is residing on Earth after it was launched off of the Transformers home during a war. The Autobots (the good guys) arrive on Earth to search for the AllSpark. Chaos ensues. That’s about it and despite some unwelcome storyline diversions, the film mostly stays focused on allowing the robots to duke it out. Let's be honest here, no one is going to Transformers for existential pondering. Bay realizes this (!!!!) and keeps his camera on the action. There is the mandatory love story thrown in there but ultimately, it takes a back seat to the action.


In short, Transformers works as a Michael Bay film precisely for the fact that it is very un-Bay like. Sure, the hyper-stylized editing and camera work is pure Bay but the rather surprising lack of self-importance is not. Unlike, say, his most recent work, The Island, which was miserably weighed down with an unbearable seriousness (a Bay signature if there ever was one), Transformers stays soundly in the realm of Saturday morning 'toons, utilizing the goofy humor the original series possessed. I found myself chuckling along with the one liners that I usually groan at and I must admit, that it was a pleasantly surprising feeling. Not since The Rock has Bay created a mindless work that feels so welcoming, so inviting in its loud, empty cries. What ultimately destroys Bay's work is not his technical skill (he is a more than ample visual stylist) but his inability to tell an entertaining story without trying to imbue it with a greater importance. In other words, he rarely can simply make a big, dumb actioner that is truly a big, dumb actioner. Too often, the films are muddled with useless themes and emotions.

LaBeouf is a welcome surprise, ably carrying the fragile emotional thrust of the narrative, yelling and screaming his way through the film as he runs from increasingly dangerous robots. However, his handling of the initial moments with his love interest, Mikaela (played by the attractive Megan Fox) seem heartfelt and humorous. Fox slinks through the film, all looks and little skill, leaving her emotions at the door as if she doesn't want them to get in the way of her body. LaBeouf and Fox share a likeable charisma that sustains their romantic angle, one subplot that works well. The rest of the cast is middle of the road, with Kevin Dunn and Julie White standing out as LaBeouf's parents but their performance is cancelled out by an underused Jon Voight and John Turturro, who both have more talent than is on display here. Turturro is particularly disappointing, a mixture of lackluster performance and character that never really takes off.


The film moves well during its action sequences but ultimately grinds to a slow crawl during any scenes of exposition. At this point, most people should realize that Bay's strong point is not drama, with almost every moment of the film not involving the Autobots/ Decepticons, noticeably lacking in any forward momentum. As a result, the film feels long and by the end of final sequence, the first of which feels truly Bay-esque in its grandiosity, I was ready for the film's finale. Luckily, the denouement is almost non-existent, only lasting a few moments as Optimus Prime quickly tacks an epilogue onto the film. That being said, the film never feels overlong and doesn't outstay its welcome. It could have possibly gotten away with a couple of cuts but overall, the length is not terrible.

Transformers' true highlight is it's jaw dropping special effects with all of the Transformers being wonderfully brought to life by the masters at ILM. Optimus Prime and Megatron are particularly astonishing and their final, climatic battle is a tension filled, visual feast that provides one with all the required images of destruction and mangled steel. The action sequences are effective and keep the film from losing steam, revitalizing the storyline with each punch. Fortunately, there is enough action to sustain the running time of 144 minutes. Look for this one to be at the short list of Oscar Nominees for Best Visual Effects but look out for Danny Boyle's Sunshine, which looks to be incredible.


As I walked out of the theater, a sense of excitement had gripped me. After all, one of the beloved franchises of my youth had not been butchered by one of my least favorite directors. In fact, Transformers is a rather enjoyable blockbuster and is much closer to a four star rating than a two. For any child of the 80's, it is a pleasant diversion that goes well with the other 80's revival entry, Live Free or Die Hard. Surprisingly enough, despite my bracing myself for the worst, both films came out well, saved by their spectacular set pieces. While LFoDH works better due to its minimal narrative diversions, Transformers stands as Bay's best film since The Rock and is a close second to the Connery/Cage vehicle as Bay's crowning achievement. For those who are hesitant, check it out in a matinee: it is certainly worth the $7.00 or so.

***

Once: Review


The musical has begun to make somewhat of a comeback recently, with big buzz films like Moulin Rouge, Chicago and Dreamgirls lighting up the screens and critics' columns. However, since the start of the new millennium, there have been a rash of smaller budget, more modestly scaled pictures as well. The second category is where Once would fall, in all its quiet Irish glory. Rather than imbuing his story with massive, outrageous numbers, writer/director John Carney relies on the hushed beauty of the songs of Glen Hansard, lead singer of the Irish folk-rockers The Frames, and his romantic counterpart Marketa Irglova, neither of whose characters are named. Rather, they are both every (wo)men, two small time musicians who share a few short moments together over the course of a weekend.

Carney's modest approach works splendidly here as he allows the music of the film to shine through and for the most part, Hansard musical contributions are sublime examples of modern folk music. Most reminiscent of Damien Rice and his quiet/loud builds, Hansard's songs take on an organic, home grown feel to them, completely devoid of any reserve. He unabashedly wears his heart on his sleeve, leaving his songs emotionally naked and performed with heartfelt fervor, slowly building to a number of wonderful moments. Too often in modern day musicals do directors and writers focus too much on Bubsy Berkley-esque extravagant choreography and not on the songs. Ultimately, the greatest musicals, despite their urges to focus on the spectacle of it all, are ultimately grounded in memorable and classic songwriting. Take, for example, arguably the most well known and most praised musical sequence in history, Gene Kelly's classic title sequence from Singin' in the Rain. As mind-blowing as Kelly's dance is, the ultimate reason why that moment works so well is the classic song behind Kelly's movement. Without it, it is a man jumping in puddles. With it, its Hollywood lore. In that sense, Once easily falls into step with the classics of yesteryear with its emphasis on the songs, not on the performance.


That being said, the acting performances are top notch considering the two main actors lack of a solid background. While Hansard had a role in 1991's The Commitments, he has done nothing since, focusing on his music career instead. Likewise, this is Irglova's first film. Their relative inexperience lends the film an air of authenticity, the type that would impress even the most hardened Italian Neo-Realist. Much like Hansard songs, his performance is quiet yet affecting. Even though the film only glimpses into the lives of its leads, one can feel for Mr. Hansard's character as he copes with not only lost love but perhaps newly discovered. His chemistry with Ms. Irglova can be best described as effortless and lived in. They fit together like a over used puzzle, pieces gently clicking into place as if they were specifically designed for each other. The film's conclusion, as a result, is painfully bittersweet and will leave the audience feeling a combination of hopefulness and despair. Considering the short running time, a mere 85 minutes (credits included, so take off five or so to compensate), Once is remarkably effective in its ability to seep into your emotions. Never does it feel overbearing or forced, its narrative subtleties slowly revealing themselves, enveloping the viewer throughout the course of the story.

Ultimately, Once's greatest strength is also what will lead to its eventual descent into obscurity. The film is so small in scope that with a small passionate following, this will quietly leave the theatres just as silently as it entered Sundance. Its small scale is a refreshing take on the genre and its approach to its songs and their performances, naturally woven into the storyline as opposed to the nonsensical moments of breaking into song and dance that dominate Studio Era Hollywood's output, is equally so. However, by keeping everything so reigned in, most audiences will miss this film and it will be lost, which would be unfortunate for these types of small, independent works are what continue to breath life and creativity into the larger process of making movies. Once should be a film to be treasured, nothing entirely groundbreaking or life changing, but a wildly successful look at a life of a struggling musician that resonates with its (small) audiences like few other films have this year.


****

Sunday, July 15, 2007

Live Free or Die Hard: Review


In all honesty, of the summer blockbusters scheduled for release this summer, Live Free or Die Hard resided fairly low on my list of must sees, not due to a lack of interest in the series previous installments but more out of a fear that the franchise would be a rusty and stale shell of its former self. Thankfully, my fears could not have been more off base as Len Wiseman (a name that would normally strike fear into the heart of any self respecting film fan) has crafted a rip roaring stunner. LFoDH is every bit as intense as the initial installment and while its script lacks some of the zing of that action classic, the action sequences top almost anything the series has seen before and places the fourth film closely in quality to McTiernan's Die Hard.

All discussion of the Die Hard films must inevitably start and end with it's star, Bruce Willis, as the films really serve as a well tailored vehicle to his strengths. His now legendary character of John McClane entered our collective national consciousness in the late 80's and doubters be damned, has stayed around long enough to now be close to entering his third decade of cinematic glory. His everyman persona, is an easy entry into the series increasingly absurd and illogical plots that serve as only the thinnest of strings to tie together their ever effective set pieces. In this fourth chapter, Willis plays McClane as the aging cop he should be viewed as, one who is slightly out of touch with technology and the more advanced threats facing our nation today. Gone are the hard body days of the Reagan 80's, replaced with a world weary, disenchanted, conservative cop who resents his initial assignment of tracking down a youthful computer hacker following a computer breach at a government agency. It is this simple trip to a dirty, soda filled apartment in Camden, NJ that starts McClane's very bad day that will take him from Jersey to DC to West Virginia to Maryland in a short 36 hour (or so) span.


Willis is in fine form here, an action star who knows the value of a sharp one liner following an intense action sequence. McClane is effectively played off of Justin Long's Matt Farrell, the aforementioned hacker McClane is supposed to round up. Long fits the computer geek mold to a T and between this and the Mac Ad Campaign featuring Mac vs. PC, he is in genuine danger of being type casted for the rest of his career. Luckily, he is completely capable, handling the material with ease. Timothy Olyphant, as the film's villain Thomas Gabriel, moves gracefully from HBO's brilliant Deadwood to the big screen. His character, a super hacker who launches an electronic attack against America's infrastructure (he messes with the electricity, traffic lights and television stations, causing what can be described as sheer chaos), joins Hans Gruber as McClane's evil counterparts. The rest of the cast, particularly Mary Elizabeth Winstead who has the looks and charisma to be a star in the making, works well in the context of the material and wisely just keep the action moving.

The true stars of the film are the huge cast of stuntmen and women who risk it all in a number of jaw dropping stunt sequences. Unlike too many of today's large scale summer blockbusters, LFoDH harkens back to the films of the late 70's and early 80's, where stunts and on set explosions were still the preferred action tools. In fact, with the exception of the climatic F-35 and 18 wheeler chase scene, it seems as if almost all the other main set pieces are primarily actual stunt work as opposed to blue and green screen trickery. As a result, the sequences pack a hard edged visceral impact that bash the audience into submission. Almost every second is invigorating (in the same way that M:I 3 was last summer) and by film's end, the audience is left energized and ready to take on the world. The pacing is spot on, with just enough exposition between each set piece to keep the story moving but it is never too much. The main draw here is the action and Wiseman smartly works quickly to get from one to the next.

It is interesting to note that these films, like most actioners, thrive in times that are resoundingly conservative. Like the hard body films of the 80's that celebrated a go-get 'em approach towards rooting out communists and the like, LFoDH possesses a similar psyche of those earlier films. However, gone are the days with the nuclear weapon wielding commies, replaced with images of technologically informed terrorists. Granted, the villains in LFoDH hold no ethnic or racial connection to the stereotypical enemies of America (and for that, we should be thankful) but their ideas are resoundingly similar. It is noteworthy to see a film like LFoDH, a work that one could easily imagine George W. Bush idolizing and replaying next to 300 as a great rallying cry in the halls of the West Wing, perform so well at the box office despite the publics seemingly overwhelming disapproval of Bush's work in the White House. While the country rails against Bush and his war (myself included), they are going to and supporting a film that holds an ideology not far removed from our current administration. Not only are there high attendance numbers but high approval ones as well (the film currently sits with an 8.1/10 rating on IMDB.com after nearly 25,000 votes). I'm not sure what to make of it, but it is certainly an interesting trend

That being said, this is, so far, the best pure actioner of the summer, an old fashioned romp that is too often not made today. It isn't the smartest film but its visceral impact is so strong that it more than makes up for its intellectual inadequacies. LFoDH is a pop confection in the best sense, a film that will be enjoyed but will lend some sort of lasting image. It has moments that will undoubtedly stick in its viewer's gut but never feel terribly weighty. It is a perfect summer diversion that is one more pleasant surprise that can be chalked up to a season that has already been abound with them.

****

Ocean's Thirteen: Review


The Ocean's Eleven, Twelve and now Thirteen franchise has never been about anything other than breezy, star studded fun, which is why the second installment was such an overwhelming disappointment and ultimately why the third and presumably final chapter is not. If Eleven was a welcome blast of goofy fun when it was released in late 2001, Twelve was an overloaded bore and Thirteen is a return to form for Soderbergh and his band of superstars, a fast moving piece of shameless entertainment. Filled with beautiful people doing nothing other than oozing charisma, Soderbergh wisely dresses his blockbuster to the nines, adding a visual panache to the winding storyline that has been spit shined to a glossy finish.

Anyone going into Ocean's Thirteen looking for anything other than a good time will end up being vastly disappointed but in all fairness to the creative team behind the film, there doesn't appear to be any ambition here other than to provide that good time. Thematic concerns are non-existent, abandoned for more and more beautiful people. The three main leads, Clooney, Pitt and Damon, reprise their roles from the previous two films and Soderbergh wisely spends no time on catching up the audience on their lives. At this point, Soderbergh figures, that if you don't know about Danny, Rusty and Linus, then its time to go back and watch the first film, rather than wasting your time with the final installment.


The story here is basic. Reuben, a longtime member of Ocean's gang (played by Elliot Gould), has been screwed out of fortune when his business partner, Willie Bank (Al Pacino in his series debut) cuts him out of their new joint casino after Reuben has done all the financial heavy lifting. Ocean demands Bank bring Reuben back in. Bank refuses. Ocean robs Bank blind. Thats about it. It is a predictable, tried and true narrative that starts and ends exactly how the audience thinks it will. But the overall arc here, the what, who, when and where, isn't the selling point, its the how that gives the series its zing and this chapter does not disappoint. It zigs and zags around the screen culminating in the final heist, which a good friend pointed out wasn't a heist, just more of someone hosing someone else. Despite that, the film never feels negative as Soderbergh and his cast keep the vibe weightless. Even the Mexican workers strike is handled with a comic confidence by Casey Affleck and Scott Caan and winds up as the best side story of the plot, adding a earthy wackiness to the slick, artificiality of Vegas.


Most of the cast returns to reprise their roles with Catherine Zeta Jones and Julia Roberts the only two who are absent. However, Soderbergh deftly handles their absence with a quick one liner that effectively removes them from the audiences memory. In that lies the film's true gift: its ability to simply make you forget about life, about reason or logic for an hour and 40 minutes (all of which are smartly paced), allowing you to sit back and enjoy the ride. Clooney is his usual affable, assured self, all classical Hollywood star power without the filter. For all intensive purposes, Clooney is the best thing mainstream filmmaking has going for it, a guy who knows how to have a good time but is unafraid of brave, interesting projects. Over the past 5 years or so, Clooney has matured from the TV hunk America loved to the cinematic power that has retained popular opinion while branching out and securing support from even chilliest of film circles. Pacino, the newest and biggest addition, is wonderful here, keeping his sometime overacting under wraps in favor of collected coolness that perfectly suits his sleazy character. The final confrontation between Ocean and Bank is as quick witted and charismatic as one could want as they watch two of our biggest stars have some fun under the red lights of Soderbergh's visuals, all of which perfectly suit the film. They are overly flashy, a visual metaphor for Vegas' slick facade.



Ultimately, the word to best describe the film is slick and for that, it'll go down as a fitting conclusion to the glossiest trilogy in recent memory. This is the closest thing to a classical Hollywood blockbuster as we'll find today, all A-listers with a sharp script and direction but not much to say, as that'll usually come in the smaller films where the group all breaks off. No one will ever confuse this film with a masterpiece of filmmaking: it doesn't have anything to say. But in terms of a summer blockbuster, one can't ask for much more from this type of star studded feature. It isn't bloated, it doesn't take itself seriously and it seems like everyone had fun. Now that its out of the way, lets get everyone back together with something more substantial in mind and then, we might have something huge. After all, isn't watching the Super Bowl, where the best of the best play for something, better than watching the Pro Bowl, where its the best of the best play for nothing? The second option can be amusing enough, allowing time to pass by but it only leaves you longing for the real thing.


***

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington: Review


There are a select few directors whom have impeccable resumes, a group of master craftsman who spent a career fashioning a body of work that stands the test of time. Frank Capra is one of those men, a director who left in his wake a number of classics of Hollywood cinema, films that speak to who we are as Americans, embracing the contradictions that seemingly go with this nationality. Capra's work is deceptively smart, masquerading themselves as easy going, small town stories when in reality, they are subversive works of the highest order, questioning the morals and ethics of a time that many view as classical Americana. As a result, Capra's film were often times not well received, attacked by critics and audiences as being pieces that criticized the American way of life. It has only been with time that his works have been given the space to breathe, allowing their overwhelming brilliance to shine through. Just such a film was Mr. Smith Goes To Washington, now considered one of Capra's finest works but once despised by the people it portrays and decried by audiences as Communist propaganda.

Released in 1939, it tells the story of Jefferson Smith, brilliantly portrayed by legendary Jimmy Stewart, a local man who is thrusted into the halls of Congress after one of his state's senators dies unexpectedly. Initially a wide eyed newcomer, Smith gradually matures throughout the film until the final, stunning climax in which he truly earns his stripes. Initially, the film comes off as hokey and dated until one realizes that its naivety has been completely planned out. It is not a matter of the film being almost 70 years old that results in its most "Aw Shucks" moments but rather a subtle calculation by Capra that beautifully sets up the second half of the film. Much like another Capra classic It's a Wonderful Life, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is really a film of two distinct halves, the first furiously working to set up the second. The timing couldn't be better, as just when the audience has grown comfortable with Smith's small town charms, Capra pulls the rug out from under us, leaving us as shocked as Smith when he is betrayed by a fellow senator and close family friend, Joe Paine, who is brought to life by a spectacular performance by Claude Rains.


Up until the final 45 minutes, the film works well as a studio era dramedy but it is during the final act of the film in which it truly takes off to dizzying heights. It works as a gripping suspense film, a political drama and sly comedy or in other words, a signature Capra feature, one that transcends genre into something special. The effortless blend of humor and drama is sublime thanks to Sidney Buchman's Oscar nominated screenplay, a sharp view at the inner workings of pre-World War II Washington. Now, this isn't necessarily the most realistic of stories, taking on a fable like feel to get its point across but Capra was never concerned with a gritty realism. Even at the darkest points of It's a Wonderful Life, moments before George Bailey's suicidal thoughts (arguably Capra's most cynical point), the feel is that of a stylized drama, snow pelting our hero as he contemplates his life. Rather, Capra (an undying optimist) and Buchman choose to abandon any sense of Washington insider feel in favor of a populist message that to be honest, is rather convincing.

Even the most hardened critics of democracy will find themselves rooting for Smith during his show stopping filibuster and what a show stopper it is. This is the moment where Jimmy Stewart, the actor, became Jimmy Stewart, the legend, blasting through the climactic stand off with Paine possessing a ferocious emotion that still resonates as one of the great performances of all time. Stewart fearlessly gives it his all, leaving nothing to chance, resulting in a moving and emotionally exhausting 20 minute sequence that rightfully deserves any praise audiences feel the need to award it. Stewart's monumental performance is supported by wonderful cast such as the aforementioned Rains, a sublime Jean Arthur, Harry Carry, Edward Arnold and Thomas Mitchell, who for my money, was one of the four or five greatest character actors in the studio system. All wholeheartedly give themselves to the material, providing the film with a fantastic ensemble performance. Without each of these actors considerable talents, Mr. Smith would undoubtedly suffer but thankfully, Capra had easily made the A-List by '39 and was given the opportunity to work with the best Hollywood had to offer.


Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is as essential viewing as it gets. It works as a brilliant primer to the inner workings of democracy, as a entry point to the complexities of populism or just a straight Capra drama. Regardless of how one wants to look at it, the film will almost certainly force one to think about the government so many American blindly defend, unwilling to recognize that it is as susceptible to corruption and manipulation as any other. This is by no means an anti-American film but rather a glowing endorsement of what Democracy offers the people of this country. It provides a glimpse of what is possible when there is enough emotion and passion behind an idea. Above all, it is a rousing tale of the little guy winning out over the man, a film that would politically not be out of place in the 60's. Its ideas, which may seem tame, are stunning in their impassioned strength and thoughtfulness, dangerous enough to have been banned throughout most of Facist Europe in the 1940's. Perhaps the most glowing endorsement of the film came in 1942, when the Nazi's outlawed American film in occupied France and a number of theatres chose Capra's masterpiece as their last showing. In fact, one theatre in Paris screened Mr. Smith Goes to Washington nonstop in the 30 days before the ban took effect. For those living under the harsh realities of Hitler's Germany, it was Capra's vision that provided them with hope and strength. If that doesn't speak volumes, then I'm not sure what does.

*****

I'm back!

Hello everyone, sorry for the absence but today I'm back with a numebr of articles! I've got reviews of a number of films so make sure to check those out. Also is my immediate reactions (2 and a half weeks late to the AFI Top 100 (which I enjoyed). Hopefully I'll be more available for posting in the next few months. Rest assured that I'm always writing and make sure to check back soon for more updates!