Frank

Released:  August 22^nd, 2014

Rated:  R

Distributor:  Magnolia Pictures

Starring:  Domhnall Gleeson, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Scoot McNairy, Michael Fassbender, François Civil, Carla Azar

Directed by:  Lenny Abrahamson

Written by:  Jon Ronson, Peter Straughan

Personal Bias Alert:  likes offbeat music, relates to weirdos

8.6 of 10

Acceptance (n.): 

1.      The act of assenting or believing

2.      the fact or state of being accepted or acceptable

It’s a hard thing to achieve, acceptance.  Be it from a group of people or from yourself, it requires an honesty that most find uncomfortable.  It’s often easier to just keep it inside, to settle for a half-truth that leads to a half-acceptance.  But what would you to do if you couldn’t keep it inside, if you had to wear your oddities on your head for the world to see?  You would be forced to accept them, to become comfortable with them, and hopefully, to find a group of people who accept you along with the thing on your head.  All that’s already happened to the titular Frank (Michael Fassbender) when he rolls into Jon’s life sporting an oversized papier-mâché head that he never takes off.  Instead, it’s Jon (an excellent Domhnall Gleeson) who must go on this journey, pushed by his own frail desires and the otherworldly people who’re dragging him forward.

            Jon, you see, dreams of being a musician but fails to find inspiration in his humdrum life.  When Frank’s band, with the unintelligible name Soronprfbs, loses their keyboard player to a psychotic break, they allow Jon to fill in for a gig and eventually invite him to help record their new album.  Reactions within the band to Jon vary, with Frank being accepting and nurturing while theremin player Clara (Maggie Gyllenhaal) is hostile and dismissive.  The rest seem to not really care for but not overly care about Jon, leaving him increasingly isolated as the recording session drags out. 

Frank and the others undoubtedly have something that’s working, even if their music is far from the mainstream.  They throw themselves into their craft in a way Jon doesn’t understand but is determined to figure out.  He believes wholeheartedly that he can learn to become a great musician, but as he discovers, trying for your dream only brings you closer and closer to a resolution.  Many find it easier to remain in a dream state, which Jon might very well have been happy to do if Frank, Clara, and the others hadn’t swept him up.  But in the Irish countryside, surrounded by people who tell him exactly how good he is with an honesty as brutal as Clara’s sucker punches to the face, he’s stuck finding out just feasible his dream is.

Now, this movie may sound like a total drag, but it sugar-coats its blows with an acerbic wit that keeps the audience laughing the whole way through.  Whether it’s Jon’s exaggeratedly pathetic tweets or the borderline-insane environment that surrounds him, there’s always something to chuckle at amidst the darkness.  It’s also an understatedly beautiful film to take in.  The rustic cabin where the band records makes for a rich backdrop, allowing the fog from outside to blend with the cigarette smoke from inside to form an inescapable, otherworldly environment.  And the music that the band performs is odd, yes, but also hypnotically precise and always pleasurable to hear.

Frank is certainly an ambitious film, juggling so many moving parts that it’s a bit hard to take in.  It’s immediately enjoyable, yes, but you may not understand why you care so much about this little band of weirdos right off the bat.  Its offbeat tone seems aimed at more serious movie-goers, most of whom are likely to get frustrated by this obliqueness.  If you don’t find its meaning, Frank may strike you as enjoyable but trivial, and if you leave it without any further thought it might very well remain there.  Some pondering and a bit of space is what ultimately reveals the depths this film explores, which is something everyone might not have the time to give it.

Other Notes:  

Ø  The characters, for all their weirdness, never seem unreal.  It’s easy to imagine a group like this out in the woods banging away on their instruments, oblivious to the rest of the world.

Ø  The music was all performed live, so I guess all the actors are pretty good musicians.  Also, I guess Gyllenhaal learned how to play the theremin.

The Boy Next Door

Released:  January 23^rd, 2015

Rated:  R

Distributor:  Universal

Starring:  Jennifer Lopez, Ryan Guzman, Kristin Chenoweth, John Corbett, Ian Nelson

Directed by:  Rob Cohen

Written by:  Barbara Curry

Personal Bias Alert:  likes erotic thrillers, ambivalent about Jennifer Lopez

3.8 of 10

            It’s true that erotic thrillers have been scarce since the ‘90s boom, which is an oddity since there is and always will be a market for them.  People like sex, and mixing in some scandal makes for an easily produced piece that can be done on a remarkably small budget.  Honestly, I don’t understand why Hollywood doesn’t churned them out like horror films.  As long as you keep them small, surely enough people will turn up to make a profit.  Look at The Boy Next Door, which isn’t even a good erotic thriller, but was produced for a mere $4 million and earned $5.7 million in its first day alone.  The math seems simple to me.

            The sad thing is, The Boy Next Door comes dangerously close to getting it right.  It’s going for campy entertainment, which only requires a few things to pull off.  First and foremost, you have to get some attractive leads, two people audiences will want to see getting their sexy on despite the complications that are thrown into the mix.  Jennifer Lopez and Ryan Guzman fit the bill, playing neighbors who fall for each other despite Guzman being Lopez’s student (although he is of age, which the movie makes clear).  It’s a solid setup, something with high stakes for Lopez’s character without being off-puttingly scandalous.  Lopez’s sex appeal needs no explanation, but Guzman is a bit of an unknown.  A former model, he's got a muscular, square-jawed appeal that matches Lopez’s curves (no waifs allowed here).  He’s also a veteran of the dance series Step Up, so he knows how to move his body.  One can easily imagine those two having great sex, which is half the thrill of this sort of movie, so on this count, it passes with flying colors.

            The more complicated thing to pull off, which this film doesn’t quite do, is to wrangle the right tone.  To achieve a campy good time, you have to commit to ridiculousness, really go for it.  Anger should evoke uncontrollable rage, lust aggressive advances, and fear a twitching desperation.  Granted, the movie has to take these things seriously, but it and the audience will understand the wink, the approval of gleeful, inappropriate thrills.  And that is where The Boy Next Door falls short.  Too much time is spent in a middle ground where Guzman is menacing and pushing Lopez, but not nearly enough.  His antics are concerning, yes, but not really scary.  However, it’s enough to turn off all desire to see him and her together, shortchanging the audience of the two aspects that are supposed to be thrilling.  The finale finally goes for it, and it’s a ridiculous good time, proving just how lackluster the rest of the film really is.

            The smaller things, which feed off the two big requirements, are actually done right here, but can seem like detriments since the tone is all wonky.  If The Boy Next Door had nailed the so-bad-it’s-good vibe, then the god-awful dialogue would be laughably fun, serving to break the seriousness and keep things light.  Some of the more fancy shots, like when Guzman’s making advances on Lopez in the kitchen while the audience can also see the son and the husband in the other room, would heighten the scandal instead of being cheesy.  Other things, like the soft lighting, constantly impeccable makeup, and the well-furnished sets successfully feed into the first requirement, keeping the characters and their surrounding environment attractive and appealing.

            In the end, it all comes down to a failure of tone for The Boy Next Door.  Everyone seemed to understand the elements that were needed to make this a trashy good time but weren’t quite able to pull it off.  And when you fail at so-bad-it’s-good, it’s just plain bad.

            Other Notes:

Ø  Jennifer Lopez produced this thing, so she must really believe in erotic thrillers.  Maybe she did the math like me.

Ø  The cop-out that Guzman isn’t really a boy is kind of annoying.

Ø  I’m sure there’s someone out there who’s fantasized about Jennifer Lopez quoting Homer.

Ø  Who puts a boxing ring in a high school?

Girl, Interrupted

Released:  December 21^st, 1999

Rated:  R

Distributor:  Columbia

Starring:  Winona Ryder, Angelina Jolie, Clea DuVall, Brittany Murphy, Elisabeth Moss, Jared Leto, Jeffrey Tambor, Vanessa Redgrave, Whoopi Goldberg

Directed by:  James Mangold

Written by:  James Mangold, Lisa Loomer, Anna Hamilton Phelan

Personal Bias Alert:  read the book, likes the fuzzy line between sanity and mental illness

8 of 10

            There’s a great chapter in the memoir Girl, Interrupted that captures the way author Susanna Kaysen and her fellow psychiatric patients romanticized and ultimately came to terms with their illnesses.  It’s called Fire, and in four short pages it ruminates on a young woman named Polly who had poured gasoline on herself to “burn it out.”  ‘It’ is never specified, but remains emblematic of their collective pain and fear.  Of course, Kaysen can’t really be sure why Polly did it, but as a device, a way of showing how succumbing to mental illness can seem seductive but will ultimately scar you for life, it’s a brilliant piece of writing.  In adapting the book to the screen, the screenwriters have keyed in on this battle, and when the film hits its stride, it’s as captivating a piece of work as the four pages in Fire.

            As great as the source material is, the unsung hero of this film is casting director Lisa Beach.  Landing the cast, which includes Winona Ryder, Angelina Jolie, Elisabeth Moss, Jared Leto, and Whoopi Goldberg to name a few, is impressive, but what makes it heroic is how well each fit into their part.  The two big roles are near-perfect, with Ryder being an obvious choice to play the introspective Kaysen and Jolie being as magnetic as ever as the alleged sociopath Lisa, but it’s the smaller roles by Moss, DuVall, Redgrave, and others who fill in the world around the duo, giving them an arena with weight and substance to do their dangerous tango.

            The dance that these two characters engage in centers around Kaysen’s illness, with her trying to overcome it and Lisa tempting her to succumb to it.  Kaysen comes into the institution on the precipice of this choice, clearly indulging in her pain but unwilling to give up the pleasures of the outside world.  Lisa has already embraced her diagnosis and allowed it to become the focal point of her personality, simultaneously giving her a seductively care-free attitude but also condemning her to a long stay at the institution.  As they become closer, Kaysen is drawn into Lisa’s web of lifers, an almost cult-like subgroup of the patients who follow Lisa unequivocally and never seem to get out.  This dance, as Lisa draws Kaysen closer and closer, is the best part of the film thanks to Ryder and Jolie’s excellent performances and the thematic weight it carries.

            The trouble is that the memoir is pretty light on plot, mostly made up of little ruminations like Fire that lead to great thematic resolutions without a whole lot actually happening.  Most of the exciting goings-on in the film have been invented, because who honestly wants to sit around watching a bunch of young women gabbing on and on in a mental institution for two hours?  Most of these adventures work well enough, including a standout scene with Ryder and Jolie doing an impromptu rendition of Petula Clark’s Downtown that is almost certain to lift your spirit as much as it does Moss’s Polly.  Others, including the ending, go completely off the wall and lose the delicate tone that the rest of the film balances.  In the sweet spot, there’s a dark whimsy to the film, a sense that Kaysen may have found an entrance to Alice’s wonderland that is slowly closing after her.  The parts that don’t work lose this whimsy in favor of pure darkness, and not the sort where you’re seeing someone’s mental illness laid bare.  No, it’s more clunky than that, degrading characters, especially Lisa, into raging devils that spout nasty things simply to give Kaysen the push she needs.  These moments are really glaring errors, and it’s especially detrimental that it ends on one.

            Still, there’s so many things Girl, Interrupted does right, from the aforementioned acting to some stylish edits to a wonderful soundtrack that’s like a precursor to the hipster classic Garden State, that it’s easy to forgive the film’s flaws.  It’s really the moments that work, where Jolie is draining every ounce of her intense charm and the line between the girl’s sanity and insanity is wavering, that sticks in your mind.

            Other Notes:

Ø  Jeffrey Tambor looked remarkably like Dr. Phil.

Ø  DP Jack Green has a very interesting filmography, working on films like Twister, The Bridges of Madison County, Unforgiven, 50 First Dates, The 40-Year-Old Virgin, and Diary of a Wimpy Kid.

Ø  “Have you ever… stolen something when you have the cash?”  Winona Ryder has!

American Sniper

Released:  December 25^th, 2014

Rated:  R

Distributor:  Warner Bros.

Starring:  Bradley Cooper, Sienna Miller

Directed by:  Clint Eastwood

Written by:  Jason Hall

Personal Bias Alert:  likes war movies, wary of jingoism

7.2 of 10

            After playing in New York City, Los Angeles, and Dallas for three weeks, American Sniper has finally hit theaters nationwide.  I assume this stall was to avoid competing with Unbroken, whose success seems only to have revved up anticipation for Sniper.  It’s expected to do boffo business in its opening weekend, breaking the box office record for January and giving quality-starved movie fans a bit of relief.

            Following the military career of the most lethal sniper in American history, Chris Kyle (Bradley Cooper), the film could have gone a few different ways.  It could’ve been a gritty, realistic portrayal of modern warfare, a jingoist celebration of a dedicated SEAL, or a character study of an inevitably haunted man.  Director Clint Eastwood went with a mixture of the former and the latter, delivering a solid, albeit simple story of a uniquely horrific war and the toll it took on one of its most successful combatants.

            The movie thrives in the battlefields of Iraq, where Kyle seems the most sure of himself and, oddly, the most comfortable.  Little time is spent outside of the missions, giving viewers a taste of how all-encompassing the job must’ve seemed.  The actual war sequences, which range from stationary sniper missions, home infiltrations, and street-careening Humvee deployments, are well-executed, ratcheting up the intensity in deceptively different ways without devolving into character-less set pieces.  If Kyle truly was as obsessed with his duties as this movie portrays, then American Sniper does an excellent job of establishing why he might’ve felt that way.

            Cooper, who’s been with the project since its inception, is the other big plus here.  He’s clearly very comfortable with the material and delivers the emotions in a tamped-down way that rings true for a Navy SEAL.  Really, his eyes are the most striking thing about his performance.  They fade as the movie wears on, losing the twinkle we’ve come to expect from the lively star.  By the end, he’s a weighed-down man, one who perhaps better understands the impact of his decisions and makes them more cautiously.  Kyle never was and never becomes a complicated man (he loves his wife, his country, and Texas), but that doesn’t mean he was lacking in regrets.

            Giving viewers this focused portrait of Kyle was surely difficult, but it doesn’t excuse the lack of attention given to the rest of the story.  Nearly everyone else who appears is a stock character, with his wife played by Sienna Miller being the only one to get any extra treatment.  Still, she’s nothing more than Kyle’s wife and mother of his children, and she gets stuck in many of the clunky PTSD scenes that could’ve been ripped from a TV movie.  That’s disappointing, especially after their meet-cute at a bar was handled so well by both Miller and Cooper.

            Really, everything that takes place outside of Iraq is lazily handled.  Plotlines are dropped and never heard from again, points are made through obvious exposition, and the ending happens far too fast.  This is a film that takes its time depicting war but rushes everything else.  Yes, there’s time constraints to take into consideration, but there are a few useless threads (like a bland rival sniper) that could’ve been cut to make room. 

None of these drawbacks take away from Cooper and Eastwood’s portrait of Kyle, but it certainly holds the film back from being anything more.  No larger statements on the War on Terror or war in general is made, nor do I think they were trying to.  More alarmingly, it doesn’t comment much on Kyle himself.  The insights that are made are fairly straightforward, feeling like the kind of mid-level observations you can throw out about yourself, which in this case almost certainly came from Kyle’s book, instead of the more honest and sometimes painful connections that only an outsider can make.  There’s many high-quality elements in American Sniper, but this lack of depth keeps it from being truly great.

            Other Notes:

Ø  Several pieces have been written calling into question the accuracy of this film.  This is a rubbish argument, because the film’s a fictionalized version of events, not a documentary.

Ø  As a warning, this does get rather violent.

Ø  It was kind of distracting that I recognized Jonathan Groff in his scene, but he did nail it.

Ø  Kyle’s book:  American Sniper:  The Autobiography of the Most Lethal Sniper in U.S. Military History

Oscar Nominations 2015

Here’s my feelings on the major 2015 Oscar nominations as a movie lover and an awards season monitor.

Picture

The nominees:  American Sniper, Birdman, Boyhood, The Grand Budapest Hotel, The Imitation Game, Selma, The Theory of Everything, Whiplash

I’ve not seen:  The Grand Budapest Hotel

My thoughts:  The awards season entries have been relatively poor this year, opening the door for unexpected films to slide their way to the front.  Oscar baits The Imitation Game and The Theory of Everything were shoe-ins since their release, even though they aren’t smooth enough to pull off a win.  Selma and American Sniper opted for the serious docudrama route.  The former is a bit too ostentatious for its own good, while the latter has some poorly handled story elements at its fringes.  Still, these are the survivors, and they’re strong films for what they are (except for the mawkish Theory of Everything).  Whiplash, the holdover from Sundance, was a surprise entry that many people loved, but I was less enamored by it.  Still, it’s one of the few nominations that are making people feel warm and fuzzy, and I’m happy about that.  Then there’s the inevitable runners-up:  Birdman and The Grand Budapest Hotel.  Both are far too quirky to actually win, even though Birdman handled the most difficult material and did it splendidly.  Nope, we all know that Boyhood will win.  It’s a fine movie with a deceptively simple story, bolstered by an interesting production schedule and the opportunity to award director Richard Linklater, who’s been making films untraditionally for years.

Who I wish was nominated:  Nightcrawler, Mommy, Fury (just check out my top ten films of the year)

Lead Actor

The nominees:  Steve Carell for Foxcatcher, Bradley Cooper for American Sniper, Benedict Cumberbatch for The Imitation Game, Michael Keaton for Birdman, Eddie Redmayne for The Theory of Everything

I’ve not seen:  NA

My thoughts:  It was a crowded field, and although many are upset at David Oyelowo getting left out, this is still a strong group.  Cooper, Cumberbatch, and Redmayne played familiar types, but each knocked it out of the park.  Carell probably pushed himself the furthest, and although his cadence of speech and Foxcatcher’s icy tone turned some people off, including myself, it’s still a great performance.  Keaton will be the deserving winner here, dominating the acting block of the Academy and beating down his younger rival, Redmayne, with the old ‘he’ll have many more chances’ argument.

Who I wish was nominated:  Jake Gyllenhaal for Nightcrawler, Andy Serkis for Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, Brad Pitt for Fury, James McAvoy for The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby, and Ben Affleck for Gone Girl (yep, I’d change every nominee if I could)

Lead Actress

The nominees:  Marion Cotillard for Two Days, One Night; Felicity Jones for The Theory of Everything; Julianne Moore for Still Alice; Rosamund Pike for Gone Girl; Reese Witherspoon for Wild

I’ve not seen:  Julianne Moore in Still Alice

My thoughts:  This is a rough category to fill, because there weren’t many great female roles in American cinema in 2014.  Theoretically, the Academy can nominate outside of its home country and Britain, but realistically, they only leave one slot open for that.  Cotillard, who’s familiar to the Academy after her win in 2008, slid into that spot this year for the Dardenne’s Two Days, One Night.  I added this film to my TIFF lineup at the last minute, and although I wasn’t in the mood for its realistic portrait of depression, Cotillard is good per usual.  Witherspoon turned in another performance I thought was good in Wild, but it wasn’t particularly exciting.  The other two I’ve seen, Jones and Pike, both tried admirably in what I found to be flawed roles.  Jones simply doesn’t have much to do and Pike’s Amy didn’t feel like a real character to me in either the movie or the book.  I can’t say I blame either of them for my lackluster reaction to their performances, but that doesn’t mean I think they deserve to be nominated.

Who I wish was nominated:  Anne Dorval for Mommy, Hera Hilmar for Life in a Fishbowl, Jennifer Anniston for Cake, and perhaps we should get fun and nominate Emily Blunt for Edge of Tomorrow

Supporting Actor

The nominees:  Robert Duvall for The Judge, Ethan Hawke for Boyhood, Edward Norton for Birdman, Mark Ruffalo for Foxcatcher, J.K. Simmons for Whiplash

I’ve not seen:  Robert Duvall in The Judge, and I have no plans to

My thoughts:  I wish Norton would win.  He was so great in Birdman, bringing just the right amount of chaos into that film’s world.  Alas, he won’t, because Simmons has this wrapped up.  One of the reasons I wasn’t big on Whiplash was that the characters felt one-note to me, and Simmons is just playing nasty.  He’s done this sort of thing many times, and as much as I like Simmons, I wish he was winning for a better role.  Ruffalo and Hawke aren’t actors I’ve particularly cared for in the past, but both showed their best sides in these films.  Ruffalo in particular was great in Foxcatcher, playing a guy who’s intelligent but out of his depth.

Who I wish was nominated:  Toby Kebbell for Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, Ben Schnetzer for Pride, Robert Pattinson for The Rover

Supporting Actress

The nominees:  Patricia Arquette for Boyhood, Laura Dern for Wild, Keira Knightley for The Imitation Game, Emma Stone for Birdman, and Meryl Streep for Into the Woods

I’ve not seen:  NA

My thoughts:  If you thought the actress field was weak this year, prepare to be wowed by the supporting actresses.  Arquette, the shoe-in winner, is actually the female lead in Boyhood, but she moved down here to secure a win.  I’m just so turned off by her acting that I can’t understand what people see in it, but I’m clearly the minority here.  Everyone else in this category is just blasé.  Dern is stuck in a basic role, Stone only got two real scenes, and Knightley had far more to do in Laggies.  And Streep, well, she’s getting nominated because she’s Meryl Streep.

Who I wish was nominated:  Suzanne Clément for Mommy, Agata Kulesza for Ida

The Skeleton Twins

Released:  September 12^th, 2014

Rated:  R

Distributor:  Roadside Attractions

Starring:  Bill Hader, Kristen Wiig, Luke Wilson, Ty Burrell

Directed by:  Craig Johnson

Written by:  Craig Johnson, Mark Heyman

Personal Bias Alert:  not a big Sundance fan, not very familiar with Hader/Wiig

5.5 of 10

            Don’t be confused by the big-name leads and the glossy finish; The Skeleton Twins is a festival movie through and through.  Glancing through the credits, it’s hard not to notice how much this film is propped up by the mumblecore/indie powerhouse of the Duplass brothers.  Financed by their production company, produced by a Jeff, Who Lives at Home and Safety Not Guaranteed vet, and co-written/directed by a guy who cast Mark Duplass as the lead in his only other film, the network of people involved all seem to be offshoots of the brothers.  Granted, it probably didn’t hurt that the cowriter worked on the Black Swan script, but even he’s a friend of the director.  The whole thing just smells like a film that was lifted off the ground by a bunch of friends, some of which happen to be successful enough to attract some good leads and a decent budget.  However, that wasn’t enough to take them far from the pathos-laden dramedies that populate the Sundance and SWSW market they cut their teeth on.

            Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig are the big stars, who’s highly successful days on SNL springboarded their movie careers.  Here, they go against type to play depressed twins so in synch with each other that they attempt suicide at almost the same time.  Despite the fact that they’ve lived thousands of miles apart and haven’t spoken in ten years, it’s clear that they’re the only ones who can rescue each other.  Hader and Wiig, who have worked together for years, translate that history well into their characters’ relationship.  They seem just as comfortable having a serious discussion as they are cracking jokes, and even more at ease doing both at the same time, giving their characters a feeling of depth that’s missing from the rest of the film.

            That last statement might seem odd given that Hader and Wiig are known for goofball comedies while the writers have come up in the character-driven indie world, but that’s precisely how The Skeleton Twins turned out.  The story just felt too safe, perhaps not in the most traditional sense, but in that it adheres closely to the festival dramedy formula.  Comparisons to another Sundance hit, Little Miss Sunshine, are almost too easy; both open with an attempted suicide by a gay man who is then taken in by his sister and her family of odd ducks.  There’s comedy in their oddness and in the suffering that lingers throughout each piece as the families unravel and form anew.  There’s also winding narratives pieces that takes their characters all over the emotional map and to the inevitable redemptive ending, because Sundance loves that stuff.  The problem is that The Skeleton Twins lacks the energy and the focus of Little Miss Sunshine and other more successful films like it.  Instead of having a tangible endpoint in mind, the siblings literally wander around their hometown for an hour and a half with no real goals or even a set end for the brother’s visit.  What’s remarkable, when you take a step back, is how little actually happened.  It’s just some solid character beats in the midst of a flat, empty story that feels stretched out to fill its brief runtime.

            These kinds of plot-light movies can be held up by interesting characters, but despite Hader and Wiig’s best efforts, and they are pretty good efforts, it’s just not there on the page.  Simply put, both characters are dull, spending most of their time dealing with problems that seem tired and trite.  To make matters worse, there’s moments when they reference events from their past that seem much more interesting than anything that actually happens in the film.  These moments are sparks, perking up interest and giving Hader and Wiig something to sink their teeth into.  But alas, they are too few and come along too late in the game to save the film’s dreary plod.

            If Sundance movies are your thing, if you like your comedy dripping with sadness and mommy issues but still want to feel good in the end, then this is your movie.  Anyone outside of that particular market will still enjoy Hader and Wiig, especially the scenes where they get to play off each other one-on-one, but will likely find the rest of the film a middling bore.

Other Notes:

Ø  Luke Wilson was given a caricature, not a character.

Ø  This film was sponsored by Cuervo.

Ø  Avoid this film if you don’t want the ending of Marley & Me spoiled.

Kingsman: The Secret Service

Released:  February 13^th, 2015

Rated:  currently unrated

Distributor:  20^th Century Fox

Starring:  Colin Firth, Taron Egerton, Samuel L. Jackson, Mark Strong, Michael Caine, Sofia Boutella

Directed by:  Matthew Vaughn

Written by:  Jane Goldman, Matthew Vaughn

Personal Bias Alert:  haven’t seen Kickass, not familiar with the comics

8.2 of 10

            This film is all about style.  Too often, a film’s style comes down to replicating whatever’s worked before, leading to the feeling of sameness that permeates nearly all genres of film.  Directors with a true voice exist (Wes Anderson, Terrence Malick, and the Wachowskis jump immediately to mind), but if successful, their inventions often become nothing more than the new norm.  That’s why it’s especially exciting to see work from someone like director Matthew Vaughn, who brings a uniquely humorous and violent voice to Kingsman:  The Secret Service but hasn’t hit it big enough to gain admiring replicators.

            Yes, Vaughn directed the successful return-to-form X-Men:  First Class, but in adhering to the lucrative series’ more weighty tone, his own playfulness was rightly tamped down.  So successful was the reboot that Vaughn was asked back to direct Days of Future Past, which he gave up to man the helm of the smaller but less restrictive Kingsman.  It just might prove to be a career-defining moment, as Kingsman delivers a mass appeal story with just the right amount of flourishes to become 2015’s first big hit with critics and audiences alike.

            Smattering together several familiar storylines, this coming-of-age spy riff follows the tryout of Eggsy Unwin (Taron Egerton) for the top-secret spy organization The Kingsman.  It’s an upper-crust British outfit following the Bond formula of slick suits and clever accessories that proves not very open to Eggsy’s lower class roughness.  The obvious chip on his shoulder is there, but Eggsy’s also smart enough to know that he can run with these guys.  It’s a deceptively difficult part that requires a balance of action, drama, and humor, and Egerton’s a major find.  For a relative newcomer, he seems at ease carrying this film and exudes a brash, bad boy charm that’s so perfectly Eggsy.

            The other ‘find,’ and what has drawn significantly more chatter throughout production, is the casting of Colin Firth as Eggsy’s mentor.  The former Mr. Darcy, stuttering King, and ABBA rocker might seem out of place in our current spy model of action-heavy leads, but Firth cuts a fitting silhouette as a dapper, old-school infiltrator.  That’s not to say that he doesn’t get his fair share of action (which he handles very well, thank you very much), it’s just not his method of choice.

            When Firth, Egerton, and others do break out the action, Vaughn pulls out all the stops to make it a raucously good time.  It’s violent, excellently choreographed, and smoothly filmed, so you refreshingly aren’t going to miss a single punch or slice.  However, there’s no nastiness to these scenes.  It’s more an embrace of violence as entertainment, an acknowledgement that we enjoy the idea of it more in the over-the-top, thrilling way that comics portray it than in the somber, gritty way that many films, even comic book films, are now leaning towards.  Yes, this is a comic book film itself, based off a recent series from Marvel-owned subsidiary Icon Comics, but this is an even more playful, and oddly more cheery, style of action than The Avengers or even Guardians of the Galaxy.  Trust me, when Firth whips out that umbrella, you’re in for a good time.

            Even with all this healthy levity, Vaughn and cowriter Jane Goldman still work in some scenes of needed drama.  They stick to some common plotlines, making the beginning portion seem a bit familiar, but once they up the stakes for Eggsy this film truly takes off.  Even the villain played by Samuel L. Jackson, who borders on hammy in the trailer, proves to be a remarkably solid mix of humor and menace, enhanced greatly by his elegant but deadly enforcer Gazelle (Sofia Boutella).

            A perfect film it is not, but Kingsman:  The Secret Service is so surprising in its entertainment that it’s hard not to scream its praises from the rooftop.  Here’s to hoping that this film’s greatness doesn’t get lost in the beginning of the year quagmire.

Other Notes:

Ø  I can’t imagine this film not getting an R rating from the MPAA.  It’s a rare blockbuster for adults.

Ø  Suits really do make guys look good.

Ø  Totally didn’t notice that was Mark Hamill.  Guess I have to turn in my Star Wars Nerd card.

Taken 3

Released:  January 9th, 2015

Rated:  PG-13

Distributor:  20^th Century Fox

Starring:  Liam Neeson, Forest Whitaker, Famke Janssen, Maggie Grace, Dougray Scott

Directed by:  Olivier Megaton

Written by:  Luc Besson, Robert Mark Kamen

Personal Bias Alert:  seen none of the Taken series, not into Besson-style action movies

3 of 10

            Sometimes it seems like all series end up here.  Gasping, on its last legs, trying desperately to be what everyone loved, it holds up its pitiful offerings with pleading eyes, asking only that you buy your ticket for one more round.  It’s easy to call out a movie as a cash grab, but when everything’s turning up green (a sequel that made more than its predecessor, the returning players getting a bigger payday while the film gets less money for production) then it’s hard to argue against what’s staring you in the face, namely that Taken 3 is a shoddily made bore that knows people will buy a ticket no matter what they put around Neeson and his gun.

            In a sad truth, Liam Neeson is the best thing about Taken 3.  Even without seeing the rest of the series, it’s not hard to imagine that he’s the best thing about the entire enterprise.  Co-star Maggie Grace, who plays Neeson’s daughter in the films, agrees.  “I really think having a substantial actor at the center of the movies is a huge part of the success,” she said in a piece for the Tribune News Service, and it does help.  He’s able to fill in backstory or establish a relationship with a glance, and despite Neeson’s age and slight pudge, he’s still a convincing action star.  When he gets framed for a murder and must hunt down the people responsible, Grace’s Kim trusts her father completely, and so does the audience.

            That makes for an extreme disconnect when, for no real reason, the film toys with killing off Neeson’s Bryan Mills.  There’s several instances where a big action sequence plays out only to end in a way that seems impossible for Mills to have made it out alive.  The moment is held, as if anyone in the audience actually thinks his death is possible, only to have him pop out of some hidey-hole and continue on his less-than-merry way.  It’s only one of the many narrative problems that this film has, but it’s such a complete failure of self-knowledge, specifically that everyone in the theater coughed up money to see Neeson beating people up, that it’s clearly the most egregious.

            So let’s talk about Neeson kicking bad guy butt.  Or, in this case, Neeson punching and shooting in such a jumbled mess of shots that you can’t tell how he’s doing until he walks away from the fray leaving a trail of bodies dead or unconscious behind him.  Yes, even the action sequences are a complete failure in this film:  shaky, inscrutable, and completely devoid of tension.  It’s a classic case of muddling the action to get the PG-13 rating (hey, another cash grab decision!), but it doesn’t jive with anything the film is trying to do.  This is a nasty, violent film, with lots of punches to the face and bullet holes laid bare.  And yet, there’s zero blood, even when it’s impossible for there not to be.  Its absence is distracting and at time a bit confusing, doing nothing to bring clarity to the already incomprehensible action sequences.

            The one thing that is comprehensible, in fact, painfully so, is the plot.  Apparently, writers Luc Besson and Robert Mark Kamen learned about foreshadowing but missed the class on subtlety.  Every plot point in the last twenty minutes of the film is thrown in your face early on, to the point that it’s pretty easy to figure out who did what.  If, like me, you figure out the bad guy quickly, then the rest of the film’s plot about investigating who committed the murder is a total bore.  It’s actually embarrassing that the allegedly smart Mills, his secret op buddies, and the cops investigating him take so long to figure out the mystery.

            When I see a sequel like this, with a boringly dumb plot, bad action, and competent but uninspired acting, I can practically see the word ‘sellout’ emblazoned across the screen.  I don’t mean this as a condemnation of the people involved (everyone makes bad choices) but instead as a condemnation of this particular film.  The best thing an audience can do in a situation like this, and this is especially important for those who liked the original, is to stay at home and watch Taken.

Other Notes:

Ø  Mills is very concerned about protecting his daughter, unless there’s an opportunity for a sweet-looking action sequence.  Then he screws his daughter and goes for the explosions.

Ø  The ending had to happen, because otherwise it couldn’t be called Taken 3.

Ø  Mmm, bagel plot point.

Ø  The best decision anyone made for this film was not calling it Tak3n.

Beginners

Released:  June 3^rd, 2011

Rated:  R

Studio:  Focus Features

Starring:  Ewan McGregor, Christopher Plummer, Mélanie Laurent, Goran Visnjic

Directed by:  Mike Mills

Written by:  Mike Mills

Personal Bias Alert:  both of my parents are alive, I’m a sucker for dogs

9.5 of 10

            I called my mom into the room when the Best Supporting Actor category came up at the 2012 Oscars.  She’s loved Christopher Plummer since she was a little girl and first laid eyes on him in The Sound of Music.  I knew that Plummer was about to win the Oscar, he was a shoe-in, and it was a pleasure to see her face light up as he took the stage.  She had never heard of Beginners, and I, having not seen the film, explained to her that he won for playing a gay man who came out after his wife died.  I wish now that I had seen the movie, because then I could’ve explained to her how much more his performance was than this simple little blurb and perhaps added to the moment.  Then again, this lament-tinged memory of my mother is a fitting accompaniment to a film filled with remembrances of misunderstood but loving parents.

            Plummer really does give quite a performance.  Vivacious, intelligent, and strong even in his dying days, Plummer’s Hal embraces this last chance to live another life and in doing so provides a meaningful last impression on his son.  You see, the film actually takes place a few months after Hal has passed on.  His presence in the film takes place entirely in the memories of his son, Oliver (Ewan McGregor), who seems stuck on trying to work out how his father’s revelation affected his parent’s marriage and his own handling of relationships.

            Writer/director Mike Mills, who based the story on his own father’s late coming out, seems to be trying to capture the very thoughts that run through a person’s head in a situation like this.  There’s an overarching fascination, in this case with the parent’s tepid and unimpassioned relationship, which gives rise to specific memories when reminders of little moments pop up in everyday life.  The memories are played out as real scenes, mostly between Oliver and his mother when he was just a boy and between Oliver and his father in the last months of Hal’s life.  The fascination is portrayed by non-narrative intercuts of the project Oliver is working on called The History of Sadness and some historical context for the time periods the movie covers.  This structure gives the film a decidedly quirky feel, but more importantly it tenderly captures Oliver’s emotions as he deals with the absence of his parents.

            In current time, Oliver is starting a relationship with an actress named Anna (Mélanie Laurent).  Both admit to not being very good at long-term relationships, which seems to only draw them closer.  Laurent is subtly complex in the way humans naturally are, and the chemistry between her and McGregor works.  A lot of the film’s weight falls on this relationship, and that added importance only made me root for them more.

            The other great performance and masterful piece of storytelling by Mills is the Jack Russell Terrier named Arthur that Oliver inherits from his father.  Played by a dog named Cosmo, he is Oliver’s constant companion and becomes rather anthropomorphic in his personification of Oliver’s mental state.  This touch is perhaps what made the film for me, because I have a mental block that protects me from getting too upset about a human character but leaves me unguarded against a dog.  Here, there’s a scene with Cosmo that had me welling up, and while it didn’t quite lead to a full cry, it’s still a remarkably rare achievement for a film.

            This is a quirky film, one that seems markedly longer than its 104 minute runtime, but it’s such a deliciously melancholic stew of love and loss that you’ll stay engrossed by it throughout.

            Other Notes:

Ø  The first film I loved in 2015.

Ø  The adopted owners of Cosmo also trained the Jack Russell from Fraiser.

Ø  I never figured out who Anna was supposed to be at the Halloween party.  I had to look it up and found out she was Julius Rosenberg.  Then I had to look up who Julius Rosenberg was.