In Memory of Robin Williams #1: Dead Poets Society (Dir by Peter Weir)


Robin Williams

Last Monday, after I first heard that Robin Williams had committed suicide, I struggled to find the right words to express what I was feeling.  Finally, I ended up posting this on Facebook:

I keep trying to write something about Robin Williams but the words aren’t coming to me. It’s all too big and strange and sudden and I can’t find the words to sum up my feelings. I feel like a part of my childhood died today. So, instead of trying to be more eloquent or wise than I actually am, I’m just going to say R.I.P., Robin WIlliams.

Finally, a little over a week later, I still don’t know what to say.  How do you sum up a life in just a few words?  I don’t think that they can be done for anyone.  It certainly can’t be done for as iconic a figure as Robin Williams.  So, instead of trying to do the impossible, I’ve spent the last few days watching and reviewing a few of Robin Williams’ films.

And, of course, one of those films had to be the 1989 best picture nominee Dead Poets Society.

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Now, a quick warning.  The review below is going to contain spoilers.  I’m going to talk about some very important plot points.  But surely you’ve seen Dead Poets Society already.  And even if you haven’t seen it, surely you’ve heard what the film is about and surely, you know what happens.  After all, who doesn’t?  But if you are one of those people who does not know or who has not seen the film — well, why haven’t you?

The first time I ever saw Dead Poets Society was in a high school creative writing class.  Our teacher — who, it quickly became apparently, considered herself to be the real-life version of the teacher played by Robin Williams — showed it to us, over the course of three class periods, as an introduction to writing poetry.  I enjoyed the film but the rest of the class absolutely loved it.  Especially the guys.  For the rest of the class year, I would listen to those guy as they bragged about how they were seizing the day.  I remember one day, the classroom was empty except for me and one of the boys.  I can’t remember what led to him doing it (and it could very well have been my suggestion that he try) but he eventually ended up standing on top of a desk just like the students at the end of the film.  Unfortunately, public high school desks aren’t quite as sturdy as private school desks and my friend soon ended up crashing to the floor as the desk slipped out from underneath him.

Ah, memories.

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Yes, Dead Poets Society is one of those films.  It’s a film that everyone seems to have seen, loved, and found to be inspirational.  And I have to admit that I’ve grown to appreciate it more over the years since I first saw it back in creative writing class.  With each subsequent viewing, I find myself less critical of the film’s melodramatic and predictable moments and more willing to accept the film for what it is — a celebration of life, poetry, and teaching.  Dead Poets Society, from the very moment that Robin Williams makes his first appearance sitting at the end of a line of stodgy old men and flashing an unapologetically impish smile, is a film that defies easy cynicism.  It’s a film that embraces you and you have to be very hard-hearted not to embrace it back.

Dead Poets Society, of course, tells the story of a private school in the 1950s and what happens when a new teacher (Robin Williams, naturally) encourages his students to celebrate creativity, to “seize the day” as the saying goes.  Not surprisingly, just about every other adult thinks that the students would be better off not seizing the day but instead preparing for a life of WASPy conformity.  This leads to a few of Mr. Keating’s students forming a secret society where they can read poetry, talk about their feelings, and basically do their best to honor the memory of Walt Whitman.

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There are seven members of the Dead Poets Society:

There’s Gerard Pitts, who doesn’t really make much of an impression.  The main thing that I always notice about Gerard Pitts is that he looks like a young version of Sam Waterston.  This made sense when I checked the end credits and I discovered that he was played by James Waterston, son of Sam.

Stephen Meeks (Allelon Ruggiero) is another one who doesn’t actually get to do much (beyond boast about the fact that he has a genius I.Q. and create a makeshift radio) but, with his cute glasses, unruly hair, and friendly manner, it’s impossible not to like him.

Of the three main villains in Dead Poets Society, none of them are quite as loathsome as Richard Cameron (Dylan Kussman).  The stern headmaster (played by Norman Lloyd) and the judgmental father (played by Kurtwood Smith) at least have the excuse of being old and set-in-their-boring-ways.  Cameron, however, starts out as a member of the Dead Poets Society but still has absolutely no problem betraying them.  As opposed to the adults in the movie, Cameron is someone who still had a chance to be something more than a worm. That being said, Dylan Kussman makes Cameron into a memorable worm.

Then there’s Knox Overstreet (played by Josh Charles, who appears to have only aged a year or two in between this movie and the first season of The Good Wife).  We know that Knox is rich because his name is Knox Overstreet.  Knox has a crush on a girl who goes to the local high school.  Knox’s subplot doesn’t really amount to much but it’s impossible not to like him because Josh Charles was (and is) simply adorable.

Charlie Dalton (played, quite well, by Gale Hansen) is the one who most enthusiastically embraces the idea of seizing the day.  He’s the one who pretends to get a tattoo, who demands to be known by a new name, who attempts to protest the school’s out-dated traditions, and who ultimately is punished with expulsion after he physically attacks Cameron.  (And, as sorry as I was to see Charlie leave the movie, Cameron totally deserved it.)  For a few months in 2008, Gale Hansen was a very active participant on the IMDB message boards, answering questions, giving advice, and generally just being a very gracious guy.  However, he suddenly stopped posting and, just as mysteriously, all of his previous posts were subsequently deleted.  Hansen, himself, hasn’t acted since 1998 and that’s a shame because he really did do a good job as the enthusiastic, idealistic, and not-quite-as-worldly-as-he-thinks Charlie Dalton.

Neil Perry (played by Robert Sean Leonard) is the one who, inspired to seize the day, appears in a local production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and, as a result, earns the wrath of his overbearing father.  Seen now, in the shadow of Robin Williams’ tragic death, the scene where Neil commits suicide takes on a terrible poignance and it no longer feels as melodramatic as it did the first time that I saw it.  Whereas, originally, it seemed hard to believe that a character played by the energetic and charismatic Leonard would end up committing suicide over a play, we now know that energy and charisma do not necessarily equal happiness.

And finally, there’s Todd Anderson (played by a very young Ethan Hawke), who is pathologically shy and who, at the end of the film, finally finds the strength to climb up on his desk.  After years of seeing in him in various Richard Linklater films, it’s strange to see the usually verbose Hawke playing such an introverted character.  But he does a good job, turning Todd into the film’s moral center.

Robin Williams In DPS

And then there’s their teacher, John Keating who, quite frankly, might as well be named Robin Williams.  That’s not to say that Williams doesn’t give a good performance as Keating.  Indeed, Williams is the glue that holds the film’s ensemble together and his performance so dominates the entire film that, every time that I’ve seen it, I’ve always been surprised to discover just how little screen time he actually has in Dead Poets Society.  As embodied by Robin Williams, John Keating becomes the type of teacher that everyone wishes they could have had just once.  The power of his performance comes from the fact that he not only inspires the viewers to “seize the day” but he actually makes you believe that the day is worth holding on to.  Without Robin Williams, Dead Poets Society would be easy to dismiss as just being a film about a bunch of privileged teenagers reading poetry and pretending to be rebels.  With Williams, however, the film becomes a celebration of life.

Robin Williams, R.I.P.

RW in DPS

 

Trash Film Guru Vs. The Summer Blockbusters : “22 Jump Street”


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I know, I know, go on and say it — I’m getting to the party pretty late with this one and anyone who wants to see 22 Jump Street has probably already done so.  Fair enough. But, see, that’s the reason I’m getting to it so late — I had absolutely no interest in catching this flick three  years from now on a boring Saturday afternoon in the middle of winter, much less paying to watch it on the big screen, but last weekend my brother wanted to go see a movie, this was playing at the local discount house up the street (the historic Riverview on 38th Street in south Minneapolis), and so we went. Better late than never, right?

Actually, um, no. I admit I wasn’t expecting much from this flick, but even by the admittedly dire standards of the Hollywood “bromance comedy,” this is atrocious, unfunny, subpar stuff with absolutely nothing going for it.

Let me qualify that statement, though, for the sake of fairness — it has nothing going for it unless you’re into movies loaded down with self-referential “in-jokes” that make fun of the production itself on a “meta” level, or movies with tired-ass “say no to drugs” messages, or movies that make incompetent cops look like harmless nincompoops rather than walking, breathing weapons of potential mass destruction (ask the folks in Ferguson if inept, bungling, cover-your-ass policework is a laughing matter), or movies loaded with lowest-common-denominator racial and sexual “humor” designed to already divide a fractured society along cultural fault lines under the thin veneer of “uniting us in shared laughter.” If you enjoy any — or all — of that bullshit, then I’m sure you’ll find 22 Jump Street a rollicking good time, even if half (or more) of the jokes fall completely flat even under the risible set of circumstances I just outlined.

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Anyway, here’s the deal, plot-wise : Jonah Hill and Channing Tatum are back as undercover 21st-century Keystone Kops Schmidt and Jenko,  respectively, Ice Cube is back as their boss in another role poking fun at his formerly-bad-ass-image, and this time his two charges are headed off to college to bust up a new “designer drug” ring rather than doing it in high school again like, I take it, they did in the first film (which I haven’t seen). Stupid shit happens, Jenko ends up on the football team, Schmidt ends up fucking Ice Cube’s daughter (played by Amber Stevens), and just when you think this steaming pile of racist, misogynist dogshit is over, they tack on about another half-hour to send the gang down to spring break in Mexico, and set this film’s place in history as the only spring break movie ever without so much as one naked female breast on display.

That’s about it as far as restraint goes, though,  in this little opus from co-directors Phil Lord and Christopher Miller (who, I take it, helmed 2012’s 21 Jump Street as well). Subtle is just not a word in these guys’ vocabulary. Shit, even at the end they keep piling it on as the credits roll, showing us one purportedly “funny” undercover scenario after another for our two “heroes,” wearing out the gag’s welcome to a degree that anyone with two functioning brain cells would consider cruel.

And then it hit me — the “two-functioning-brain-cells” crowd isn’t who flicks like this are made for. Nor is that the “target audience” for anything coming out of Hollywood’s blockbuster comedy machine these days. Dear God, there’s an entire generation of comedy “stars” who would be flipping burgers or digging ditches for a living if the public at large had any taste. Roll call : Johan Hill, Channing Tatum, Seth Rogen, Seann William Scott, Andy Samberg, Will Ferrell, Ben Stiller, James Franco, Danny McBride, Owen Wilson, Zack Galifianikis, Melissa McCarthy, Steve Carrell, David Spade,  and the worst offenders of all, the wretchedly untalented Vince Vaughn and Adam Sandler.

Whew! I’m exhausted just from pouring out that list, and I’m sure it’s not even a comprehensive one. Point is : none of these people are funny, they never have been, and they never will be.

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Look, I have no desire to sound like a curmudgeon (whoops, too late!), but we’ve got to face facts here : the state of the Hollywood comedy is no laughing matter. We’re in deep trouble. This shit is stupid, these supposed “A-listers” can’t carry a film, and the “demographic” they’re pitching this crap to is, plain and simple, the idiot crowd. If a truly inventive and talented comic performer like Bill Murray, or Richard Pryor, or Gene Wilder,  or the late, great Robin Williams came along today, Hollywood wouldn’t have  the first idea how to utilize their talents. “Come back to us with some fat jokes or fart jokes and we’ll see if we can’t find you some work. Oh, and do you know how to make fun of Mexicans? That’s always good for a laugh.”

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Honestly, news coverage of wars or humanitarian disasters is funnier than tripe like 22 Jump Street. Just because a film is openly aware of its own absurdity doesn’t make it instantly less absurd in and of itself — in fact, quite the reverse, because it gives lazy filmmakers a crutch — “let’s admit we’re stupid so we can spend the whole rest of the movie making fun of how stupid we are.” The most talented folks in the comedy game have always understood how to point out and lampoon all of life’s admitted absurdities without insulting the intelligence of their audience. This new crop today? They think you’re such a lame-brained asshole that they can spend two hours calling you a lame-brained asshole to your face and you won’t even get upset because, hey, they’re saying that they’re lame-brained assholes, too!

If you want to keep playing along with this ruse, that’s your business, but I’m through with it. This is the last mainstream Hollywood comedy I see — even at discount prices — until they get their shit together.

What Lisa and the Snarkalecs Watched Last Night #105: Zodiac: Signs of the Apocalypse (dir by W.D. Hogan)


Last night, my friends, the Snarkalecs, and I watched the latest SyFy original film, Zodiac: Signs of the Apocalypse!  So, was Zodiac as good as Sharknado 2, as underrated as End of the World, as overrated as Invasion Roswell, or as bad as Heebie Jeebies?  Or was it just somewhere in between?  Let’s find out!

Zodiac

Why Was I Watching It?

Why were we watching it?  Because I’m a snarkalec and that’s what we do!  We watch original films on SyFy, we tweet along, and we do our best to try to get things to trend.  My hope was that Zodiac would eventually become a trending topic on California and end up freaking out a lot of people who would naturally assume that the legendary Zodiac Killer had finally been caught.  Unfortunately, last night, we were competing with football and this is America.  Nothing beats football.

What Was It About?

Good question.  It was a SyFy movie so naturally, the world was on the verge of ending.  And somehow, the upcoming apocalypse involved the signs of the zodiac and an ancient stone that was found in a deserted mine.  There was a bad business guy named Woodward (Aaron Douglas) or maybe he was a government guy.  But, for some reason, he wanted to get the stone so he could do evil things with it.  Luckily, there were three scientists (Joel Gretsch, Andrea Brooks, and Emily Holmes) and one scientist’s son (Reilly Dolman) who were attempting to save the world.  And Christopher Lloyd was in it, playing yet another scientist who had apparently invented holograms or something like that.  There was also a guy named Marty (Ben Cotton) who was a survivalist and lived in a really spacious bunker.

And let’s see, what else happened?  Fire rained from the sky.  Raging floods soaked the Earth.  Woodward flew around in a helicopter.  The scientists spent a lot of time driving around in an SUV.  A lot of stuff happened.  How it was all related was not always easy to follow but, then again, we all know that if you’re tying to make logical sense out of a SyFy film, you’re doing it wrong.

What Worked?

You know what?  I always think that when people criticize SyFy films, they’re missing the point.  SyFy films are supposed to be silly, the special effects are supposed to be cheap, and the performances are supposed to be melodramatic.  Occasionally — like with Sharknado 2 for instance — these elements come together perfectly.  And then other times, like with Zodiac, the end results are fun for two hours and quickly forgotten about afterward.  Zodiac was no Sharknado 2 but it gave us everything that we typically want from our SyFy films, it was a fun movie to tweet along with, and it gave the viewers a few laughs.

Perhaps not surprisingly, Zodiac was a Canadian film and Canada certainly looked pretty.

What Did Not Work?

For a film that was sold as being about the signs of the apocalypse destroying the world, the greatest sign of all — Scorpio — was sadly underused.  I kept expecting a scorpion-shaped cloud to form in the sky but it never happened!  Speaking as a Scorpio, I was very let down.

“Oh my God!  Just like me!” Moments

My favorite character was Sophie (Andrea Brooks), the kickass scientist who survived being buried alive in a mine, not to mention Aquarius, Capricorn, and Sagittarius!  And she did it all while rocking the traditional SyFy scientist outfit of tank top and tight jeans.  She also had great hair!  If I wasn’t already planning on being the Black Widow, I’d be Sophie for Halloween.  She was the best!

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Lessons Learned

Don’t mess with the Zodiac.

Film Review: Nineteen Eighty-Four (dir by Michael Radford)


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Yesterday, as I was flipping through the channels, I came across a documentary that was being shown on This TV.  The documentary was called Nineteen Eighty-Four and it told the story of a low-level British bureaucrat named Winston Smith (who bore a strong resemblance to a youngish John Hurt)  who, after having a secret affair with a free-spirited woman, was charged with committing “thought crimes” against the state.  As a result, he was tortured by a man named O’Brien (who looked a lot like Richard Burton) until Winston finally came to love the government above all else…

What’s that?

Okay, you caught me.

This movie was not a documentary.  Instead, it was an adaptation of George Orwell’s famous novel about a dystopian future Britain (quite cleverly renamed Airstrip One in both the book and the film) where the citizens spend their time giving thanks to Big Brother, a leader who may or may not actually be a fictional creation of the ruling party.  It’s a world where everyone knows that “Big Brother is watching you” and every day is scheduled around the “two-minute hates” that are directed towards Big Brother’s enemy, Emmanuel Goldstein (who, much like Big Brother, may or may not actually exist).  It’s a world dominated by three separate superstates that are in a state of perpetual war, though we’re also given reason to suspect that the war is just as fictional as Big Brother and Goldstein might be.  It’s a world where order is kept by the Thought Police and history is regularly changed for the benefit of the ruling party.  It’s a world where people can become unpersons and cease to exist and where all good citizens understand that one plus one equals three if the government says that it does.

So, no, it’s not a documentary.

It just feels like one.

Richard Burton 1984

As I watched Nineteen Eight-Four, it was impossible for me not to compare Orwell’s vision of the future (which is faithfully visualized in the film) with our present world.  Even though the book was written in 1948 and this film was shot and released in 1984, it was hard not to feel as if Nineteen Eighty-Four could have just as easily been made yesterday.  Beyond the obvious NSA-as-Big-Brother comparisons that everyone makes, it was hard not to compare the brainwashed citizens waiting to hear from Big Brother with the people today who slavishly repeat whatever talking points they hear on MSNBC or Fox News.  How different, I wondered, was Big Brother railing against Goldstein from our President continually telling us that we’re at war with the “forces of cynicism” and that anyone who disagrees with him is not just expressing an opinion but instead is being unpatriotic?  When O’Brien explained how the Party stayed in power by keeping the people perpetually angry at unseen enemies, he might as well have been talking about our own elected officials.  And, when the Thought Police finally arrested Winston and Julia, it brought to mind the images of the militarized police force of Ferguson, Missouri.

And that, I think, is why Nineteen Eighty-Four remains so powerful as both a book and a film.  We live in a world where we are told more and more often that, regardless of what it does, the government is in charge and must be obeyed.  We live in a world where we are currently told that good citizens must obey the law simply because it is the law.  We’re told not to question why a police force needs to resemble an invading army.  We’re told not to question why a member of the police force might happen to shoot an unarmed black teenager multiple times.  We’re told not to question the official history.  Instead, we’re just supposed to live in a state of blind obedience and accept, on faith alone, that those in charge are always right.  We’re supposed to “respect authority” and not think about the specifics.

Thought Police or the Ferguson PD?

Thought Police or the Ferguson PD?

In short, we’re living in the world of Nineteen Eight-Four whether we realize it or not.

As for the film itself, it’s a powerful and surprisingly faithful adaptation of Orwell’s novel.  John Hurt is perfectly cast as Winston Smith and Suzanna Hamilton is sympathetic as Julia.  The two of them have a very real chemistry in this film and it makes the inevitable final scenes all the more disturbing and tragic.  This was also Richard Burton’s final film.  After years of alcoholism, Burton died shortly after filming ended and he looks ill throughout Nineteen Eighty-Four.  But his obvious ill-health actually works to the role’s advantage.  As played by Burton, O’Brien becomes the perfect embodiment of the morally corrupt ruling Party.  The scenes where O’Brien tortures Hurt as difficult to watch, as they should be.  But both Hurt and Burton give such committed performances that you can’t look away even when you want to.  Finally, Nineteen Eighty-Four was an early job for the great cinematographer Roger Deakins and the film has a memorably bleak look to it.  The drabness of Air Strip One perfectly mirrors the empty life of its citizens and it serves as a perfect contrast to the lushness of Winston’s fantasies.

Nineteen Eighty-Four is not an easy film to watch but it’s one that everyone should track down and see.  Watch it and ask yourself how different 1984 is from 2014.

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Guilty Pleasure No. 22: Battle Beyond the Stars (dir. by Jimmy T. Murakami)


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Two of my favorite films of all-time happen to be very similar. In fact, one could say that they’re pretty much the same films. I’m talking about Akira Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai and it’s Western-remake by John Sturges, The Magnificent Seven. Kurosawa’s film is one of the greatest films of all-time and it’s no wonder that many have taken the film’s story of the downtrodden hiring a band of misfits, rogues, but still honorable men to help them fight against huge odds.

One such film that tries to add onto Kurosawa film’s legacy was the Roger Corman-produced scifi-adventure film Battle Beyond the Stars. This 1980 film was one of Corman’s many attempts to cash-in on the Star Wars phenomena, but in his usual low-budget style.

For a low-budget scifi film, Battle Beyond the Stars happened to have quite a cast one doesn’t usually see in such productions. While it had such grindhouse and exploitation regulars as John Saxon and Sybil Danning, it also starred the wholesome Richard Thomas from The Waltons and George Peppard (who would later become famous with a new generation as Hannibal Smith of The A-Team). The film would be directed by Jimmy T. Murakami, but from watching the film one could see Corman’s fingerprints all over the production from the script which was pretty lean and cut to the basic outline of Kurosawa’s original film. There’s not much fluff to bog down the pacing of the film.

This film has always been a guilty pleasure of mine because it so resemble Seven Samurai and The Magificent Seven, but adds in it’s own unique style and look to a well-worn and well-trodden plot. It was much later that I found out that James Cameron had a major hand in the special effects work in the film. Think about that for a moment. The self-proclaimed “King of the World” who literally breaks film budget records every time he begins work on a film did FX work on battle Beyond the Stars whose effects budget probably wouldn’t buy a day’s worth of crafts table eating for his most modestly budgeted films.

Lisa Marie always loved to say that grindhouse and exploitation films are some of most honest films out there. There’s no bullshit to what we see on the screen. It’s filmmakers forced to be daring and inventive because the lack of resources forces them to think outside the box. Battle Beyond the Stars might be seen as a mediocre attempt to cash-in on a scifi cultural phenomena, but it does so with a go for broke mentality that makes it such a fun film to watch. It’s not the greatest thing Corman has ever produced and some would even call it a very bad film, but once one looked past it’s rough and flawed surface then one could see a gem in the rough hidden beneath.

Oh, this remake of the remake of the original also happened to star one Robert Vaughn who was one of original Magnificent Seven.

  1. Half-Baked
  2. Save The Last Dance
  3. Every Rose Has Its Thorns
  4. The Jeremy Kyle Show
  5. Invasion USA
  6. The Golden Child
  7. Final Destination 2
  8. Paparazzi
  9. The Principal
  10. The Substitute
  11. Terror In The Family
  12. Pandorum
  13. Lambada
  14. Fear
  15. Cocktail
  16. Keep Off The Grass
  17. Girls, Girls, Girls
  18. Class
  19. Tart
  20. King Kong vs. Godzilla
  21. Hawk the Slayer

Now Showing On The Shattered Lens: Flight to Mars (dir by Lesley Selander)


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Are you lucky enough to have an extra 70 minutes free today?  Why not spend them watching an entertaining little B-movie called Flight to Mars?

First released in 1951, Flight to Mars is reportedly the first American film to ever be made about traveling to the red planet.  At the start of the film, a rather phallic spaceship is launched into space.  Aboard the ship are cynical reporter Steve (Cameron Mitchell), brilliant scientist Jim (Arthur Franz), token female scientist Carol (Virginia Huston), and a few other scientists who all kind of blend together.  Steve is attracted to Carol but Carol is more interested in Jim.  However, Jim isn’t interested in anything other than his work.  When the spaceship does reach Mars, it turns out that Mars is a lot like Earth and the Martians are a lot like us.  The main difference between humans and Martians appears to be that Martian women wear miniskirts.  Among those Martian women is Alita (Marguerite Chapman), who falls in love with Jim.  The rest of Mars, however, is not quite as infatuated with their intergalactic visitors…

Flight to Mars is definitely a product of its time.  This is one of those films where the men are all blatantly sexist and the women are usually just happy to be noticed.  Carol, for instance, is overjoyed to discover that they have kitchens on Mars and, while the men spend all of their time making plans, Carol usually just stands in the background, eating Martian snacks and pining for Jim.  Of course, Jim only has eyes for Alita, who, upon meeting the virile males of Earth, has absolutely no problem betraying her entire planet.  Beyond the sexist attitudes, Flight to Mars is also distinguished by presenting space travel as being the equivalent of a long flight on a small airplane.  This is definitely a low-budget B-movie that has absolutely no relation to science fact (or, for that matter, any other type of fact).

And, to be honest, that’s why I like the film.  It truly is such a time capsule that just watching it will make you wonder if Eisenhower is still in the White House.  I’ve always felt that the best way to learn about history is to experience it personally and one of the best ways to do that is to watch a movie that could only have been made during a certain period of time.  And trust me, Flight to Mars is pure 1951.  As for the film’s low budget — well, this film proves that you don’t need CGI to create an alien world.  Sometimes, cardboard and colorful costumes work just as well.  And, as for the film’s science — well, facts are boring.  That’s one reason why good people have often turned to science fiction.

So, if you’ve got 70 minutes to kill, why not experience Flight to Mars?

Enjoy!

Film Review: Into the Storm (dir by Steve Quale)


Forgettable.

If I had to sum up Into the Storm in just one word, that’s how I would do it.  It’s only been a few hours since Jeff and I sat through Into the Storm and, as I sit here now trying to write this review, I am surprised by just how little of an impression this film made on me.  Even the special effects, which did impress me while I was watching the film, are good without exactly being memorable.   There is only one scene that I can remember almost perfectly, in which a veteran storm chaser (Matt Walsh, who is wonderful on Veep) takes advantage of a small moment of calm to look at nature and allows himself one quick smile before Oklahoma gets hit by another tornado.  It’s probably the only genuinely human moment in the entire movie.  Unfortunately, it’s only a few seconds in an 89-minute film.

Into the Storm is a found footage film, in which the small town of Silverton, Oklahoma is struck by a few dozen tornadoes, which all eventually merge into one big tornado.  Fortunately, everyone in the film has an excuse to justify continually running towards the tornadoes while holding up their cell phones and shouting, “Are you getting this!?”

For instance, there’s Pete the storm chaser who needs to get some amazing footage of tornado mayhem, otherwise the whole storm  “season” will have been a waste for him.  Accompanying Pete are the usual gang of doomed cameramen and a meteorologist (Sarah Wayne Callies) who has left behind her five year-old daughter so she can chase wall clouds across the southwest.  And then there’s two dumbass rednecks (Jon Reep and Kyle Davis), who desperately want to be YouTube sensations.  And, of course, let’s not forget the graduating class of Silverton High School.  SHS’s principal (Scott Lawrence) is a dead ringer for Barack Obama, which is perhaps why he proves to be totally ineffectual when it comes to dealing with natural disasters in Oklahoma and Texas.  The vice-principal (Richard Armitage) is the father of two sullen teenagers (Jeremy Sumpter and Nathan Kress) and you better believe that the whole experience makes them into a stronger family unit…

None of the characters are particularly interesting or even likable but that’s really not supposed to matter, is it?  This is the type of film where you’re supposed to be so pleased with the special effects that you’re willing to overlook the bad dialogue and predictable plot, right?  Well, if that’s the case, then why does it take so long for the tornadoes to actually show up?  Why do we spend so much time getting to know these thoroughly vapid and uninteresting characters?  And why, oh why, does this film have to end with the survivors looking over the ruins of their city and talking about how this whole experience has inspired them to embrace life?  It seems like they could have just as easily learned the same thing from reading a greeting card.  Was it really necessary for a tornado to come down and probably kill 60% of the town just so they could be taught such an obvious lesson?

Trust me, I grew up and I live in Tornado Alley.  Not a year has passed that I haven’t had to spend at least one day stuck inside and waiting for word as to whether or not a tornado is going to dip down into my part of the world and potentially kill me and everyone I love.  (Just a few months ago, I literally spent an hour and a half huddled underneath a desk while listening to the mournful wail of the tornado sirens going off outside.)  I’ve also seen firsthand the unbelievable damage that tornadoes can do.  Walk up to real tornado survivors and tell them, preferably while they’re standing in front of the rubble that used to be their home, that their misfortune has inspired you to enjoy every day of your life.  Just see how they react.

The film is directed by Steve Quale, who first came to prominence working under James Cameron.  Perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised, therefore, that he seems to be more comfortable with CGI than with actual human beings.  But still, Quale’s debut as a director — Final Destination 5 — was actually a pretty effective little horror film that featured some surprisingly witty and clever moments.  Little of the skill that Quale displayed in Final Destination 5 is on display here in Into The Storm.  I’m not a huge fan of the whole found footage thing to begin with (occasionally you get a Devil’s Due but most found footage films are more like Paranormal Activity The Marked Ones) but if you are going to make a film in that style, at least play by the rules.  As directed by Quale, the majority of the film is directed to look like found footage and, hence, it suffers from all of the problems that we tend to associate with found footage.  But, jarringly and almost at random, Quale occasionally abandons the whole found footage conceit and suddenly, we’re just watching an ordinary film.  For found footage to work as a genre, you can’t remind the audience that it’s essentially a gimmick that’s often used to make excuses for sloppy filmmaking.  And, for too often, that’s exactly what this film does.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I guess Into The Storm is okay for what it is.  After all, the film wasn’t advertised as being a great film.  It hasn’t been mentioned as a potential Oscar nominee or anything.  The commercials promised footage of tornadoes destroying a town and that’s what this film eventually gets around to showing.  Plus,  it didn’t feature any talking turtles and that’s definitely a plus.  But, at the same time, I think those of us in the audience are justified in occasionally asking for something more than merely okay.

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Trailer: The Theory of Everything


Here’s the trailer for the Stephen Hawking biopic, The Theory of Everything.  The trailer pretty much speaks for itself so I’ll just say that it certainly looks like it could be a very powerful film.  Based on what I’ve seen here, I’ll be shocked if Eddie Redmayne doesn’t get an Oscar nomination for his performance here.

‘Life Itself’ Review (dir. Steve James)


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“We all are born with a certain package. We are who we are: where we were born, who we were born as, how we were raised. We’re kind of stuck inside that person, and the purpose of civilization and growth is to be able to reach out and empathize a little bit with other people. And for me, the movies are like a machine that generates empathy. It lets you understand a little bit more about different hopes, aspirations, dreams and fears. It helps us to identify with the people who are sharing this journey with us.” – Roger Ebert

I’ve enjoyed film for pretty much all my life, but I didn’t truly come to appreciate and love it as an art form – as something more than simply entertainment – until my first year of college (I know, how cliché). I didn’t just come to love watching film, but (as you can obviously see as I write this) I came to love reviewing and discussing the medium with others as well. The first critic who introduced me to film criticism was Roger Ebert. His reviews were the first to really click with me. It wasn’t because I always agreed with him (because I definitely didn’t); but it was because I truly, truly admired his love of film. It was a contagious sort of love, a passion I never knew could be had for motion pictures. Following his example I too began writing about films and discussing them on forums and blogs. These discussions opened up the door really, and I charged head first, exploring the medium more deeply than I ever imagined I could.

It became a journey that I can honestly say made me the person I am today. Film was, and always will be, what I turn too when I am happy, bored and most importantly when I am sad. The best example I have of this was when my grandfather passed away years ago. It was a special sort of hurt, and no discussions with family or friends could do much to quell that pain. I remember sitting down the night it happened, alone in my dark room, and deciding to watch ‘Amelie’. It is a film I adored, one of the few films that truly moved me with every viewing. When it ended, as it had done many times before, I had a huge smile on my face. It did it again. Film did it again; it was once again one of the few things in my life that could heal, or overshadow, any hurt I happened to be feeling. I don’t think I would have known about or adored ‘Amelie’ if not for the journey my love for film had created – a love that wouldn’t have blossomed without the analysis and discussions I had about them – discussions I would never have started if I hadn’t read Roger’s reviews religiously and decided to start writing some myself.

That is why I was deeply saddened when Roger Ebert passed away. He is one of those rare people for me who although I never actually met or spoke with him, he still managed to have a profound effect on my life. An effect that still moves me, as I learned today as I finally watched ‘Life Itself’. I shamefully had put it off for far too long, partly because I think I knew the sort of emotional response I would have towards it. But as the quote I began this posts says, film helps us “identify with the people who are sharing this journey with us”, and it was about time I took a look at the journey that was the life of Roger Ebert.

And boy, was it rough. It did bring me to the verge of tears, as I expected, but I loved every minute of it. ‘Life Itself’ is an honest and in depth portrait of a man who wasn’t without his faults. But no matter what battles he encountered – either with alcohol, his colleagues, or cancer – he still faced everyday ready for what came next. He had a passion for life that was reflected in his passion for film – or maybe the other way around. This for me is what shined through the documentary, handled with such care and attention by Steve James. It is an affectionate tribute to a man who moved so many, generating the very same empathy that Ebert himself loved about film, and for that I think it deserves two big thumbs up.

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More of my nonsense on Twitter.

Dragon Ball Z: Battle of Gods


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Yes, my friends, while the rest of you were off seeing high flying summer blockbusters with nearly universally positive reviews I took a slightly different approach… and saw one of the very few showings available in my area of Dragon Ball Z: Battle of Gods. You know, the first Dragon Ball Z film in 17 years to receive a theatrical release? That particular fact doesn’t really mean anything aside from highlighting the fact that Battle of Gods was, in fact, released theatrically. Depending on your location, you may still have a few days to see it. Let me get this out of the way right now: If you were – or are – a fan of Dragon Ball Z, you should see this movie.

Why? Well, let’s talk about the film a bit.

Events open with the introduction of Lord Beerus, also called Beerus the Destroyer. He’s smarmy and wicked, and he ordered Freeza to destroy the Saiyan world of Vegeta 39 years ago, before taking a nap. Now that he’s awakened, he is surprised to learn of Freeza’s death, and even more surprised to learn that it was at the hands of a Saiyan warrior. Abruptly, he recalls a prophecy he was interested in once about a “Super Saiyan God” (the film’s dialogue itself makes fun of this title. Don’t worry!). These opening scenes also give us a good sense of the tone of the film: Despite the fact that are no doubt headed to some mighty Dragon Ball Z action sequences later, the film is largely comic in tone.

First, our villain pays a visit to King Kai’s planet, where Goku is training. Most of this sequence is played for laughs, and it’s fairly brief, but Beerus does demonstrate to us his power by effortlessly defeating Super Saiyan 3 Goku in two almost delicate blows.

Disappointed by Goku, Beerus and his servitor, Whis, head to Earth to try and find the other remaining Saiyans, and this Super Saiyan God. Upon arriving, they interrupt Bulma’s birthday party. In a pleasant bit of fan service, all of the characters from the series are there. All of the fighters of course, like Piccolo and Tien Shinhan, but also supporting cast like Master Roshi, Mr. Satan, and Videl. The film runs only about 85 minutes, so most of these characters aren’t given a ton to do, but the middle part of the movie takes place primarily at this party. Here’s where things had the potential to really slow down and drag… because despite Lord Beerus arriving and demanding to meet his Super Saiyan God rival, he soon takes a shine to the buffet table instead. In no time, he and Whis are chowing down on Earth delicacies at Bulma’s invitation.

Meanwhile, a subplot involving a character from the original Dragon Ball anime (one whom I had to Google, but I’m sure there are fans who will better appreciate his appearance in the film). He’s there to steal the seven titular Dragon Balls, which Bulma has collected to give away as a prize on her birthday. Everyone should have a friend like her, I guess, because that’s quite the gift.

Lord Beerus eventually gets into a fight with Buu over pudding cups, and things start to head in the direction we always knew they were going to go: Beerus ultimately is here to challenge his new potential rival for fun and for profit, and unless the Super Saiyan God can prove stronger than he, he’s going to destroy the Earth. As you would expect, the lesser fighters all bounce off of him to no great impact, and even the mighty Vegeta is no match for Beerus, even after going berserk. Luckily, Goku arrives to save the day. Some complicated stuff happens that doesn’t really need a full rehashing. Suffice to to say that with the Saiyan characters pool their energy together, they literally transform Goku into a God in order to battle Beerus.

While I personally found a lot of the nonsense in the middle of the film to be very funny, I suspect it won’t play as well later on small screens as it did in what was actually a fairly crowded theater. What will play nicely on any high definition screen are the battle sequences that make up the last part of the film between Beerus and Vegeta and then, of course, between Beerus and Goku. One compliment that I would not pay to the original run of Dragon Ball Z was to its animation quality. Even the very coolest fights in Dragon Ball Z (say, some of the later ones against Perfect Cell) absolutely pale in comparison to what we get here.

Using modern animation techniques like blending some CGI in with the animation, incredible 3-D angles, and modern computer colouring, the battle sequences are awe-inspiring. Instead of endless series of rapid-fire punches and kicks that leave more to the imagination than we actually see, most of the battles play out with clear, decisive movements. Punches and kicks feel real and powerful. Energy blasts were given a little help from the CGI and seemed to crackle on the screen. Even if you found the central part of the movie a total slog (which would be a shame!) it’s probably worth it in the end!

I’ve seen other reviews cite the ending as underwhelming or disappointing, but I actually thought it was very suitable. While it’s true that the appeal of Dragon Ball Z wasn’t it’s complicated characters or sensible plotting, the spirit of the show and the characters is alive and well in this film, and to see the original voice cast return in so many different roles was pretty impressive… not to mention jumping up and down pretty hard on my nostalgia button. I remember when I used to be frustrated every afternoon by this show’s interminable filler episodes on the Cartoon Network. Battle of Gods might have been the way I’ve most enjoyed it since; in a single, digestible chunk that gave me a little of everything that ever made the show appealing.