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.

****

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.


****

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!

AFI 100 Years...100 Movies 10th Anniversary

In 1997, the American Film Institute (AFI) released their first of numerous lists intended to celebrate 100 years of American film. This series, called 100 Years..., has been, to put it lightly, rather controversial among critics, who have cited numerous flaws in the list. However, like any good list of art should, the series has started a interesting, surprisingly prolonged debate about the American film canon and if nothing else, provided this writer with an entry point into the rather expansive history of cinema. The first list, entitled 100 Years... 100 Movies, combined with my first viewing of Mel Gibson's Braveheart sparked my interest in film and in the past 10 years, I have, for better or worse, enveloped myself in the history of film. My initial goal was to watch all 100 of the films but as time wore on, that goal fell by the wayside in favor of branching out to try and experience everything film had to offer me, not just one single list. However, with the release of the AFI's 10th anniversary list tonight, I'd be lying if I didn't honestly admit that I am excited to revisit these films having seen many of them.

Many will probably roll their eyes at this but for me, the AFI's efforts to educate and promote American cinematic history holds a special place in my heart, as if it wasn't for their initial list, I might have never been motivated to watch many of the films I now consider to be the absolutely pinnacles of the art form. As of the airing of AFI 100 Years...100 Movies 10th Anniversary, I have seen 77 of the films on the original 100 Movies listing. Of the nominated 400 films for the new list, I have seen 214. In other words, despite my concerted efforts to immerse myself in film, I have a ways to go. However, I would be willing to bet that I have seen many more of the films than a typical filmgoer. That said, here are my thoughts on what one might see in terms of changes between the two lists, 10 years apart.
-I think the top 10 will stay roughly the same. Casablanca, Citizen Kane, The Godfather and Gone With The Wind will all remain near the top of the list, as they have been overwhelmingly represented in other AFI lists. I would not be surprised to see Citizen Kane fall out of the top spot in favor of Casablanca or The Godfather. Not saying its going to happen, just saying its not untouchable.

-Film with the best chance of dropping out of the top 10 (unfortunately) is Singin' in the Rain. It occupies a place in my top 5-6 but given the current political climate, its happy go lucky vibe may lose some points.

-Films with the best chance of making significant moves: Chinatown, the Vietnam films (Apocalypse Now, Platoon, The Deer Hunter), All Quiet on the Western Front, Noirs of 40's (Maltese Falcon, The Third Man), basically any hardened cynical films on the first list. Much like the politics of the day may end up hurting a film like Singin' In the Rain, it may end up helping some of the works that question authority and war.

-Film with the best chance of making the Top 100 that wasn't on the 1997 list: The Conversation by Francis Ford Coppola. Its obvious the AFI likes this period of Coppola (who doesn't) as this film is book ended in production dates by The Godfather I and II. It is a film that seemed designed for Patriot Act era viewing and has been critically lauded over the past decade.

-Film with best chance of dropping out of the Top 100: Yankee Doodle Dandy. The 100th film in 1997 has little to say at this given time. Its gone.

-Film that should be on the list but probably won't be: Three Kings. The best film made about modern warfare is a whip smart, timely film that deserves recognition. It won't get it.

-Film that shouldn't be on the list but might be: Crash. If Haggis' overrated sermon gets a nod and Do The Right Thing does not, I'll be devastated but given the racial undertones of Hurricane Katrina, a film that deals with the interplay of race in LA might seem enticing.

-Biggest Question: Will all/any of the LOTR films make the list? They were heralded by just about everyone as being the most monumental achievements in recent years. How high will they go?

What are your thoughts? I'll be back tomorrow with reactions. Enjoy the show!

Knocked Up: Review

Judd Apatow is something of an enigma in modern Hollywood, a man who creates popular films that are readily accessible yet endlessly thoughtful and heartfelt. In fact, through his first two films (excluding his TV work), he has produced two more films of social significance and moral boundaries than pretty much any other director working in straight comedy today. But to be fair, with Knocked Up, his latest bona fide masterpiece, he isn’t working strictly in comedy, deftly blending heartbreaking melancholy with gut busting laughs that when put together on the screen form a bittersweet and humane picture that will be long remembered as one of the year’s pinnacles. Before you go running for the closest art house theatre to cleanse yourself of the mainstream ickyness, hear me out. Mark my words, there will be no film released this year that so wonderfully explores sex, love and marriage, three cornerstones of life, distilling the topics into a digestible 2 hour package that will (and should, if you have any heart whatsoever) deeply resonate with anyone lucky enough to experience it.

Apatow, who cut his teeth on the sets of “The Larry Sanders Show”, “Freaks and Geeks” and “Undeclared”, has been blessed with a undeniable talent for mixing pathos and comedy in way that brings to mind the names of Chaplin, Keaton, Sturges and Hughes. For today’s audiences, he is creating our modern day City Lights or Sullivan’s Travels, that is, cinema that speaks to the human condition in a universal language. Knocked Up strikes me as the type of film that the writers of Cahiers Du Cinema would adore, a cinematic achievement imbued with a pop conscious and self awareness that are hidden behind the guise of a stoner flick. The film’s trailers, which make it out to be a slight comedy, don’t do Apatow’s masterpiece justice, cutting the film’s most heartfelt moments for instances of straight laughs. Don’t worry folks, there are plenty of gut-busting laughs but there is so much more here that demands a viewing. The best part of it is that it doesn’t even require careful viewing but just a small dose of patience and the ability to laugh.

Despite being supported by a knockout ensemble cast that has literally no weak points, Knocked Up puts all its eggs in the basket of its four leads, who if they weren’t up to the task, the film would fall flat on its face. Luckily for the general public, Seth Rogen, Katherine Heigl, Paul Rudd and Leslie Mann absolutely shine in their roles, propping the admittedly heavy emotional weight of the film on their shoulders and carrying it from start to finish. Rogen and Heigl, play a couple, Ben and Allison, that after a drunken one night stand find themselves with a new member of their non-existent family on the way, and are particularly stunning, taking their characters and crafting them into likeable humans, not cookie cutter creations played for laughs. Thanks to their work, the gravity of the situation at hand is given real weight, the audience is desperately pulling for their struggle to work out, not necessarily for the two to wind up together but merely to have their find a common ground onto which their newborn can grow. Ben is almost effortlessly loveable, a doofus forced into a fight to find himself while Allison and the baby’s biological clock slowly ticks onward. Both are up to the task, matching each other’s performance note for note and if these two don’t become stars from this movie, it will only be a matter of time before their delicious charisma finds another way to show itself.

Rudd and Mann (Apatow’s real life wife) play Allison’s sister, Debbie, and brother-in-law, Pete, who exist to provide the audience with a glimpse into what exactly Ben and Allison are venturing into. Debbie and Pete have been married for nearly ten years and the time has created a number of rifts in their relationship, ranging from Pete’s desire for the male friendships he once had and is now missing to Debbie’s frustrations with Pete’s inability to communicate his emotions with her. Their relationship provides the film with its most dramatic moments and feels painfully real. It will act as a mirror to any couple that sees the film, revealing their own inadequacies and annoyances in the process. One scene, in particular, is especially heartfelt: Debbie, who fears that Pete is cheating on her, follows him to a house only to walk in on something she would never expect. What happens afterwords is a brilliant exchange, punctuated by Debbie’s tearful cry in which she tells Pete that he doesn’t have to yell to be mean, that he is plenty cruel as he is. This comes as a shock to Pete but reveals a great deal about relationships in general: one doesn’t need to be outwardly and obviously cruel to deny their partner with the care that they need. Too often do we walk mindlessly through life, ignoring the others feelings without even thinking about it.

Apatow, by giving equal weight to both the male and female sides of the subject, ends up as more of a moderator than lecturer. He allows his characters to explore these conflicts, giving the audience the necessary tools to sort out the issues themselves. Rogen, Heigl, Rudd and Mann are brilliant, taking a wonderful script and creating a transcendent bliss that emanates from the screen whenever they are present. By the film’s conclusion, which features some graphic images of the birthing process, any non-believer should be converted. Apatow is unflinching in his presentation, exposing raw emotions that have been hidden behind some sophomoric humor. By including those lasting images of a child’s head crowning, Apatow shows that his camera is here merely to document life, to capture these magical moments for posterity, whether they were produced naturally or artificially. In fact, in those fleeting shots, all of which drew audible gasps from the audience, Apatow creates a manifesto of sorts that envelopes the larger film. Even when it may seem to be at its grossest moments, it reveals emotions and experiences that are often times startling but are never meant for merely shock value. While this may not hold true for all of 40 Year Old Virgin, it does for Knocked Up. Each scene pulls back another layer until the entire picture comes into view, one of family embracing each other. At its core Knocked Up is a thoroughly wholesome film in unwholesome trappings, a work of art that is based on a set of morals that value maturity, family and love. By including the shots of birth, Apatow forces the audience to understand the importance of the situation at hand, that this moment in the most life changing event in both Ben and Allison’s life. He wants his viewers to feel the pain and joy of the moment. I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I found the exact instant of when we first see Ben and Allison’s child to be life affirming, a moment in which all the pain and struggle feel completely worth it.

In brief, Knocked Up is easily not only the best comedy of the year but the best of recent memory. It affirms the importance of life and more interestingly, the importance of cinema. Few works of art, of literature, of music has touched me in such a unique and wonderful way and while this may seem like hyperbole to some, Knocked Up is one of the year’s finest films, not for its over abundance of laughs, but for its stunning honesty. By so revealingly putting on display both the inner workings of relationships, marriage and childbirth, it shows how powerful a medium film can be. It can allow us to laugh, cry and think all in a brief few frames. Knocked Up is a splendid film, highlighted by a wonderful view of humanity that should be experienced by young and old alike. It may just make you look at the way you treat your significant other, your children or your friends. It may just make you look at the way you live your life.

*****

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End: Review

There are few franchises that have done a complete 180 so quickly as which after an enjoyable first installment, featuring a dynamite lead performance by Johnny Depp and a giddy swashbuckling feel, has sunk to the bottom of the title's sea like the bloated, overblown stone it is. While I have never been (and likely never will be) as unabashed a fan of Pirates of the CaribbeanCurse of the Black Pearl, I can understand its appeal. Its effortless blend of humor and action and sound family friendly feel is perfectly tailored to the summer multiplexes. As to why it became as popular as it did, seemingly tapping into the cultural zeitgeist, is somewhat of a mystery. One can imagine that its mindless escapism was a welcome relief from the daily bombardment of news reports from Iraq and Afghanistan. Unfortunately for viewers, the first was something of a one off engagement, as both sequels, last year's Dead Man's Chest and this summer's At World's End, are needlessly overblown duds, stripped of much of the first's humor and entertainment. At World's End, directed by Gore Verbinski, is a particular mess, a wandering overlong installment that left me exhausted and checking my watch.

First off, just to get it out of the way, Depp is still great; Knightley is still a beauty as are the special effects. Those three elements work wonderfully and are the highlights of the film. Keeping with his work in the first two films, Depp continues to completely embody Captain Jack Sparrow, throwing his whole body and soul into a demented and charismatic performance that is some of the finest acting jobs in any blockbuster ever. It is rare to see an actor so wholeheartedly embrace his/her character while dealing with a huge budget film but Depp is a rare talent. His subtle motions and ticks are as effective as ever, adding a humanity and humor to his characters actions. Sparrow isn't necessarily the best drawn or best developed character in film but Depp extracts as much as he physically can from the script, making the best of it and the results continue to be wonderful. As time goes on, these films will become known for two reasons: their box office clout and Depp's phenomenal work.


While Knightley never reaches the twisted heights of Depp, her performance is one of an obvious star coming into her own. She rules the screen with a undeniable charisma, adding a vitality to each of her scenes. Like Depp's Sparrow, her character, Elizabeth Swann, is a one dimensional cut out that she makes the best of, allowing her star power to take hold. She is a rarity today, a classical beauty that has acting talent and charisma, harkening back to the days of the studio era where women like Lake and Hayworth rode a similar blend to box office gold and Hollywood legend.

Visually, the film is everything one can hope for from a blockbuster, a delicious feast crammed with gorgeous CGI. It is no wonder that the team behind the franchise's special effects were awarded with an Oscar for their troubles, as their work is flawless, down to the smallest details. The film's villain, Davy Jones, a man/squid hybrid, played by ever-wonderful Bill Nighy, is brought to life by the film's CGI with each gill and tentacle moving independently from the other. The climatic battle, despite the lengthy, unneeded build up and uneven pacing, is another highlight with massive ships filling the screen while mayhem ensues around them.


All that being said, the film is a complete bore and its running time of 2 hours and 48 minutes is unbearably unnecessary. There is nothing in the narrative that demands this type of length. It seems like Bruckheimer and Verbinski were trying to force an epic feel out of a story that isn't even remotely close to actually being epic. Rather by including as many double dealings and back stabbings as possible, the film is an incoherent mess, with the story wandering to and fro instead of being a streamlined shot of action and comedy. While even the first film was long as 2 hours and 20 minutes, there is no excuse for a nearly 3 hour run time for the final installment. It isn't until the cameo appearance of Keith Richards, almost 2 hours in, that the film picks up speed (and even this universally hyped moment is disappointing). While there are some decent action scenes, there could have been a solid hour hacked off of the film without losing a single important piece of narrative.

For every Depp, Knightley and Nighy, there is an Orlando Bloom, who may be the most perplexing star in the world today. If you look at his work since 2001's Fellowship of the Ring, his film's possess a gross of over 2 billion dollars, which, unless I'm mistaken, unmatched by any other star in recent memory. Granted he has worked in primarily ensemble casts but his appeal is a mystery to me. He is a pretty face but doesn't possess much actual talent unlike say, someone like Jake Gyllenhaal, another young attractive star. His performance in At World's End is wooden and a perfect example of a big budget actor coasting through a role. The one film in which he has a substantial lead in which he is required to carry the film was Elizabethtown, Cameron Crowe's worst film by any criteria. Much of that film's failure is a direct result of Bloom's inability to play off a likable and talented female foil, Kirsten Dunst. As an action star, Bloom works well but when the film relies on him for romantic moments with Knightley, it suffers. Where it is obvious that Knightley can work with romantic material (see: Love Actually, Pride and Prejudice), Bloom's ability to do so is in doubt and POTC: AWE does nothing to clarify the situation.


It is unfortunate that the trilogy's creators were unable to continue with the success of the first film in any way other than box office earnings. While the series is an obvious hit, providing Disney with its first legitimate franchise in a while, I imagine that the final two films will quickly sail from the public's imagination. Much like the Wachowski's Matrix trilogy, the filmmakers would have been better off stopping with their one, first cinematic triumph. Rather they end up dragging that accomplishment down with two overblown, disappointing sequels that do nothing but hurt the franchise's chances as being remembered as anything but a money maker, a studio cash in, instead of the classics they could been. The summer's first (not entirely unexpected) disappointment.

**

Spider-Man 3: Review

It was with mixed feelings that I entered into Spider-Man 3. Although I thoroughly enjoyed the first and loved the comics growing up, the second, given all its critical acclaim, was nothing less than a massive disappointment, all hokum and cheesiness; in other words, all the childish parts of comics. Then, when the critics got a hold of S3, the results were not pretty, with many declaring it the worst in the series. Therefore, the great joy that I experienced from the first frame to the last was a complete shock, albeit a welcome one. While I'm not quite ready to declare it the best of the series, S3 is a wild thrill ride, jam packed with villains and eye popping set pieces, as well as a good heart and sense of humor.

In the third installment, our favorite neighborhood webslinger returns, once again played by Tobey Maguire, and as the film opens, the city is abuzz with Spider infatuation. Gone are the days of doubt about the pajama clad hero's intentions, instead replaced by an overwhelming approval rating that George W. Bush would die for. However, the good times quickly vanish as, count 'em, three villains storm onto the scene, each ready to squash the pesky spider from the streets. Those villains, played by James Franco, Thomas Haden Church and Topher Grace, are remarkably well drawn and fairly interesting, given the extreme restrictions of their roles. Franco, who appeared in the first two films, is the most fully fleshed out due to his previous involvement in the series but Church's Sandman is a wonderfully three dimensional creation, built on contradictions and the ever continuing quest for redemption. Like the best of Marvel's Super-Villains, the Sandman is hardly a demented, twisted criminal but rather a conflicted soul determined to help his family in whatever way he can regardless of legality. Unlike a villain such as Lex Luthor, Superman's long time nemesis, these characters are driven by human emotions.


On the flip side, Maguire's Peter Parker is a walking conflict, filled with teenage angst and, when his suit gets infected by an alien symbiote (bear with me), swagger, the latter being portrayed with a comedic glee that is more readily apparent in this chapter than any previous one. In fact, it is the comic touch that ends up saving the film from the problems of the second installment, which dished out the angst without any sort of humor. One scene, in particular, when Parker does his best Tony Manero and struts down the street, checking out the ladies in an unabashed manner. The results are surprisingly amusing as even though the audience can recognize the silly, even juvenile manner of the scene, it is a welcome relief to the other aspects of the film. It is a light hearted moment in a summer blockbuster, something that is entirely too rare in a season that takes itself too seriously with each passing year.

Throughout the film, Sam Raimi solidifies himself as an efficient and expert filmmaker, equally able to craft nail biting action sequences as well as quiet scenes of dialogue. While the Spider-Man trilogy (for now) doesn't quite reach the mayhem and insanity of his Evil Dead series, it makes up for it with a hefty dose of heart. One can easily see that Raimi has a great deal of respect for the material, holding Lee and Ditko's character in high regard. Each frame is carefully crafted and while it lacks the refinement of an art house film, there are enough whiz bang moments for the hardened cinephiles to gawk at. The film really takes off in its set pieces, all of which are among the trilogy's best. These sequences are perfectly paced, building and climaxing at the right moments with no particular one outstaying its welcome. In terms of pure popcorn fun, S3 might not be topped all summer.


All things considered, I'm quite frankly surprised that this film was so widely dismissed by critics. Sure it runs almost 2 hours and 22 minutes and features a complex and busy storyline but in comparison to a film like Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End, the film moves quickly and smoothly. Where as Pirates seems to be struggling to fill its completely unnecessary run time, S3's story warrants the film's length. Remarkably, when I left the theatre, I felt invigorated, not exhausted and would have gladly sat through another film to make it a summertime double feature. While there is talk of making more installments of the franchise, if Raimi, Maguire and Dunst decided to walk away right now, I would be perfectly content as the film's conclusion brings closure to a number of storylines that have continued over the larger trilogy's story arc. After watching S3, I was reminded how enjoyable the first film was and how much the second disappointed me. Luckily, Raimi was able to steady the ship and produce an entertaining, exciting blockbuster, two attributes that many films forget are vital to their success.

****