When I heard Alexandre Aja was going full-retard and casting his net out on a 3D Piranha remake, he had me hook, line and sinker (*cue trumpet). I’ve been a big fan of Aja since Haute Tension and his remake of The Hills Have Eyes is one of the few superior horror retellings. The thing about Aja is that he gets gore in a way that we haven’t seen in a while, similar to Eli Roth (who coincidentally appears in Pirana 3D). So you would think a hard R-rated monster movie would be heaven for B-movie gore fans.
Well it is and it isn’t.
Piranha 3D is a mindless, dumb blood-bath that doesn’t take itself seriously for one moment. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing, just an acquired thing. The film currently sits at an 81% fresh rating over at Rotten Tomatoes, and the reviews coming in from all over the net seem to echo the same sentiment – the film can be fun. Personally I felt that the film lacked something to make the experience a truly remarkable display of schlock. The ingredients are all there, and there’s no lack of gross out money-shots, but on the whole I felt Aja played it a little too safe and instead the film, clocking in at less than 90 minutes, plays out more like a movie prop demo reel. There’s really nothing we haven’t seen before. I see the film’s intention, but instead of celebrating and reinvigorating the sub-genre, Piranha succumbs to its own pitfalls as a testosterone-fueled facsimile.
The plot is thin, but could the subject matter be any more complex? A small earthquake hits the Amity-esque beach town of Lake Victoria, opening up a cave system hidden beneath the surface and unleashing thousands of prehistoric piranha fish. These aren’t your daddy’s piranhas, apparently; the only difference is that they are faster and more blood-thirsty than the already-terrifying aquatic carnivores. The new visitors couldn’t have come at a more opportune time as the quaint town has become overrun with alcohol-soaked college students on spring break, turning the lake into a veritable stew for the fish. The action starts early and continues through the film with an impressive amount of boobs, butts, body parts and bones being displayed and destroyed.
You go to a movie like this expecting two things, nudity and gore, and the film does deliver albeit with a direct-to-video after-taste. There are a couple of great kills, though I found the best ones didn’t come at the hands – or should I say teeth – of the titular monsters but instead boat propellers or even the boats themselves. In regards to the nippy little fish, by the time we see our third or fourth leg bone the gimmick has lost its edge. By now you’ve no doubt heard about the “penis” scene, and believe me the concept of said scene is far more intriguing than it’s execution. Though there is something to be said about seeing a detached cock in 3D…
Which brings me to the obligatory dismissal of the 3D in the film. Like the vast majority of films with the added effect, the 3D in Piranha is unnecessary and distracting, adding nothing to the film and significantly decreasing the visual quality. The kills are not made better, the nudity is not made better, and the CG piranhas themselves are certainly not enhanced nor do they feel more terrifying. The film is another victim of the post-production addition of 3D, meaning the film was not shot using 3D cameras. The same shifting, lighting and depth issues exist in Piranha as they do in every other film converted in post (though in this case not near as bad as in Clash of the Titans, though still not passable by any stretch).
The cast does a decent job with what they’ve got to work with, and everyone is on board tonally with how characters should work. None of them are really given any time or development, though I’m not entirely sure how they could have. It’s nice seeing Elisabeth Shue in a leading role, and she does a convincing job as the sheriff of Lake Victoria and protective mother. Adam Scott is a welcome addition, but really is he ever not? If anything the film needed more of him, as we’ve seen how funny can be. The rest of the cast is peppered with recognizables in minute roles including Ving Rhames and Jerry O’Connell. There’s also great cameos from Eli Roth, Richard Dreyfuss (in a knock-you-on-the-head-subtle nod and wink to Jaws) and Christopher Lloyd. Oh, and like, fifty porn stars.
If you’re looking for the most superfluous, path-of-least-resistance cheese, then Piranha works. Certainly not worth the ridiculous premium on the $15 3D ticket.
*It’s also slightly ridiculous how a piece of crafted film like Scott Pilgrim can be called misogynistic when Piranha 3D is treated like the kid that doesn’t know better.
I’m not really a born comic geek. I’m a TV girl, and my love of comics started with DC Animation, namely, Batman The Animated Series. I can remember being so enthralled in the art and the drama of this cartoon, and I fell in love with Batman solely based on this series. When I’m reading comics, it’s Kevin Conroy who voices Bruce Wayne in my head.
Due to this, I am always genuinely excited to pick up any new DC animated films. They are just pure fun. The delicious Batman: Under the Red Hood Blu-Ray came in the mail today, and there were squeals of delight. I had to grab this one on pre-order because Supernatural’s Jensen Ackles is voicing Red Hood. He’s got a great sexy raspy voice, and that always makes for a good time.
Whenever I bring up these movies, people always squirm at the voice actors. Batman is different in everyone’s head and it is jarring to hear him in any other voice. I will admit that this is bothersome for about the first 10 minutes, and then you sink into the action, and it isn’t so bad.
Bruce Greenwood voices Bats, who will always be Nowhere Man to me, and does a decent job. Neil Patrick Harris was actually a really good and whiny Nightwing, but I question whether his range could have been better used by playing Joker. Joker was played by John Dimaggio, and there were definitely a few Bender the Robot moments that I couldn’t block out.
Story-wise, well this one has been done in the comics, so it wasn’t anything new for me. Red Hood comes to town, deciding to control crime for the forces of good, instead of wiping it out. Everyone wonders who Red Hood is. Big mystery. Bats figures out who it is. Drama Drama. Stand-off with the Joker. The end.
I will admit that I was only half paying attention for the first hour. The ending, however, captured my full attention and was very touching, hitting on the Batman family relationship dynamics quite nicely. I like the gooey relationship stuff, what can I say?
Joker comes out with no great puns, but a very telling line aimed at Bats : “You manage to find a way to win and everybody still loses.” As much as I hate the campy Batman, the ending makes me weep for the happy-go-lucky Robins that are most likely a thing of the past.
The Blu-Ray features a digital copy, several cool DC Universe trailers, and as I write, I’m enjoying the included four episodes of 90s era Batman animation hand-picked by Bruce Timm. I think if you buy the two-disc special edition DVD, it will have the most of the same features.
Batman: Under the Red Hood is pretty much in line with all the other recently released DC animation, and if you liked them, definitely pick this one up too.
Superman/Batman: Apocalypse is the next release from DC, coming out late September, featuring Summer Glau.
When you think of movies for our generation, you would probably rattle off films like Clueless or tv shows like My So Called Life, but I never felt an affinity for them or connected to them at all. They just didn’t speak to me or about my life or where I’m coming from. Sure they are entertainment – yes, I like Clueless a great deal so what? – but the point of those films, to capture (or satire) an amount of cultural youth relevance, felt superfluous to me.
Then I saw Scott Pilgrim vs. The World and that void was filled. Not only did I relate entirely to the film, except never having been in a fight, much less one involving seven evil ex-boyfriends, but Scott Pilgrim effortlessly peeled my face off, shoved three fingers into my eye and nasal cavities like a bowling ball made of warm ham, and proceeded to stimulate the most erogenous of zones in my brain. Scott Pilgrim was hitting my g-spot all night. My geek-spot. Wow, that sounds gay.
The premise of the film is simple and genius. Scott Pilgrim, a young-ish bass-player for the nowhere band Sex Bob-omb, meets Ramona Flowers, the girl of his dreams (literally). As if women weren’t challenging enough on their own (please, hold the hate mail), in order to continue dating Ramona, Scott must defeat her seven ex-boyfriends, all of whom are evil to varying degrees. Insert copious amounts – I’m talking nine-ropers here – of video game, rock music, pop-culture goodness, pop yourself a speedball of exstacy, pixie sticks, red bull and garlic bread and you’ve got a truly unique and exceptionally executed film. It sounds unremarkable to say, so I’ll pepper in a swear word for emphasis: Scott Pilgrim is fucking fun.
A few months ago I bought the first five volumes of the Scott Pilgrim graphic novel series (now complete with volume six concluding them), created by writer/artist Bryan Lee O’Malley. I was immediately captured in this world – not hard considering the story is set in Toronto and references dozens of actual locations and establishments – and it wasn’t long before I felt I knew the characters, thanks to O’Malley’s masterful writing. The books are a perfect balance of humor, ultra video game violence and true, believable love. Every character feels defined and hits every beat. If you haven’t climbed aboard Train Pilgrim, you don’t know what you’re missing. With the final volume of the series hitting shelves earlier this month, I felt that pit form in my stomach as I turned the last page. That moment where you’re high from seeing how it all turned out, yet mildly depressed that it’s now over. For me, seeing the Scott Pilgrim film adaptation – especially weeks before release – was the perfect cap to the whole experience, as Edgar Wright and the cast hit this one out of the park.
I wouldn’t hesitate to put Scott Pilgrim high on the list of most faithful comic-to-movie adaptations, nor would I hesitate to call it one of the most enjoyable times I’ve had in a movie theatre in recent years. Just like Bryan Lee O’Malley’s books, I was sad to see it end. Don’t take my sentiments as saying the film is only for fans though – Wright has made a movie totally accessible to those who haven’t experienced Pilgrim on paper. In fact, there are major differences between the book and the film, story-wise; like Kick-Ass, the screenplay for Pilgrim was written long before the series concluded. The film exists as itself for all young, energetic eyes to behold, and offers a completely new experience for both fans and non-fans alike. If there’s a geeky bone in your body (want one?), then it deserves to see this film, multiple times at that.
The film also marks a huge landmark for director Edgar Wright. We love Edgar, no one’s disputing that. He hasn’t been on an uphill battle with his films, people adore them. At this point he hasn’t had to, nor should he feel the need, to prove himself, and that makes it all the more spectacular to see just how he’s grown as a director. A visceral, visually stunning director. I’m convinced the man can do it all. Hilarious writing. Killer editing and camera work. Genuinely awesome fight-scenes. Adjective verb. Adjective verb times ten. Scott Pilgrim looks fucking amazing, easily sitting comfortably, knees apart, balls on the seat, next to critically praised visuals seen as recently as Inception or Star Trek. All previous attempts at creating a video game movie have turned to ash and cinder as Pilgrim manages to perfect the convergence of three genres – comics, film and games, into one. Essentially, Edgar Wright’s film is the sexiest tranny alive, being both the hottest, most gorgeous woman and the most chiseled, tree-trunks-for-quads fireman in the world. Again, it’s not gay if it’s Scott Pilgrim, but I’m so comfortably in love with him that I don’t care. Besides, it’s 2010, get over yourself. If it feels good, do it.
I would be doing myself and the film a disservice by continuing on with my horrible, crude metaphors and hyperbole, but dammit, that’s what Pilgrim did to me. It’s entirely positive. It makes me proud to be a geek and love the things that I love and the references that I get. It makes me want to be social. I want to own a bass guitar. I want garlic bread, even if it makes you fat. I want an X-Men patch on my fur-lined winter coat. But most importantly, I want to see Scott Pilgrim again and show it to all of my friends.
The film opens on August 13th. Be there or be dust.
It’s so hard to watch Cop Out and not line up director Kevin Smith in the sights. The film is so painfully devoid of any real charm or interest or humor that someone must be accountable for it. And while Smith did not write the film – the first in his resume to wear that… badge? – Cop Out bares the eye-rolling, wince-inducing low-end guffaws we’ve become used to since Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back. I don’t mean to trash the filmmakers entire career since 2001 (I loved Clerks 2 and enjoyed Zack and Miri Make a Porno) as I classify myself as a “Kevin Smith fan”. I’ve attended two of his Evening With Kevin Smith performances, and highly recommend his weekly podcast, Smodcast. But there’s an underlying groan in his recent films that has continued to fester until reaching amputation status with Cop Out – Kevin Smith is a comedy director who is simply neither funny nor apt behind a camera.
The film features the unlikely pairing (both in-front and behind the camera) of Bruce Willis and Tracy Morgan as nine-year partners in the NYPD. The pair get suspended for a public shoot-out ala Beverly Hills Cop – a film which Cop Out tries to pay homage too but ends up shoddily emulating – and Willis’s character , desperate for $48,000 to pay for his daughter’s wedding, tries to sell a high-valued baseball card. And then it gets stolen. From then on the film attempts to weave in a storyline (a term I use at its loosest) about a Mexican drug lord and a cheating wife, none of which I can articulate on further, as they may as well have been stuck on the screen with velcro. Nothing in this movie sticks.
Across the board, the performances in this film are of the lowest calibre possible. Tracy Morgan isn’t an actor. He’s very funny, yes, and he says lines in an unusual, sometimes chuckle-receiving way, but he simply cannot act, and Cop Out does have a few scenes that would require that. None of which he can pull off. A secondary story-line involves Morgan’s suspicions of his wife having an affair; a storyline rendered completely dull and uninteresting thanks to Morgan’s constant mugging and shouting. There’s a reason why I like Morgan in 30 Rock, and that is because he’s not really a character with intent or purpose. He’s just there to say a silly line or two, and in that case it works. It doesn’t work for a lead in a feature film, especially one where you’re meant to play a believable cop alongside Bruce Willis.
As for Bruno… well… with every second of screen time Bruce Willis has, you can see it in his eyes. That look that says “what the fuck am I doing? This is terrible. What was I thinking?”. Easily Willis’s worst performance to date. It’s hard watching Cop Out and thinking of how great Bruce is in films like Die Hard and Unbreakable. It’s also sad considering Willis is notorious for re-writing his own scenes, a privilege we can assume Smith granted him. I’d lean towards Bruce not giving a shit, as I find it hard to believe he put his touch on anything we see here.
At the end of the day, it’s unfortunate that the director must take the brunt of the heat when it comes to a bad movie. Every aspect of the film is near unwatchable from the performances to the script, even down to Harold Faltermeyer’s uninspired 80’s synth-score which is phoned-in and forgettable compared to his marks on cinema music with themes to Beverly Hills Cop and Fletch. But it’s also the director’s job to craft these elements and guide these artists to fit a vision, and sadly Smith made this film with a blindfold on.
Warehouse 13 is back on Tuesday nights on Syfy. I wasn’t impressed with the premiere at all, but the second episode was great nerd fun featuring Jewel Staite and Sean Maher, Firefly’s power couple of cuteness and awesome. What this show lacks in character depth, it makes up with neat gadgets and odes to steampunk. Word is there will be a Farnsworth Device replica at San Diego ComicCon this weekend. Neat.
True Blood is back and everyone is all ‘WOO! True Blood,’ but I can’t seem to get into it. The season two finale cliffhanger nearly killed me, so I was surprised that I really didn’t care about the premiere. I like Sookie and Bill together. Anyway, Bill has been kidnapped by a vampire king (no queen jokes). Sookie is looking for him, but no one wants to help her except Eric who is doing it for his own selfish reasons. There are werewolves. I was on whiskey and Benadryl when the werewolves arrived, so I haven’t quite figured out that whole story.
There is a new sexy evil vampire in town. His name is Franklin Mott, which really isn’t much of a sexy name, but he’s played by an incredibly gaunt and spooky looking James Frain, who will always be Sir Thomas Cromwell (Tudors) to me. He has lost a lot of weight for the role, and I didn’t recognize him until I looked it up, but the hollow cheeks just make him look even more dastardly.
Someone poke me when Bill and Sookie are reunited, and I may start watching again, but something tells me (well tweeple tell me) that they are not in for an easy romance when he gets back. Television writers want to hurt me. It seems to be their main goal. In all fairness to True Blood, they are up for some Emmy’s and the writing is superb, if a tad obsessively dramatic.
I may need to draw you a map to all the Being Human news. Being Human is a BBC show with an utterly stupid premise about a ghost, a werewolf, and a vampire sharing a flat. Stupid premise aside, the show is on my favorites list due to the wonderful gore, intriguing characters, excruciating suffering, and good old British wit.
Series three is filming in the UK now. Series two is airing on BBC America starting in this weekend, and Series One is coming to Canada in August on the SPACE Channel, and was also just released on DVD to North America for mass consumption.
Syfy has bought the rights to remake Being Human, America style, only filmed in Canada with a Canadian actress. Which is awesome. Meaghan Roth will play the ghost, with Sam Witwer and Sam Huntington playing her blood-lusting flat-mates. They have different character names, so we’ll see how it compares/differentiates from the mainline BBC series.
If you’re a Being Human virgin, it’s worth tracking down the original pilot. Two of the actors are different, but it is a beautiful piece of television, in a Spaced meets Anne Rice sort of way.
That’s it. My summer recommendation is go get the DVD box set of Being Human, and give cable a rest. Or go to the beach, read a book, something.
Series five of Doctor Who felt like it went by really fast, probably because the wonderful people in the UK, (as well as wonderful pirates) spoiled it for me three weeks in advance. The season finale is this Saturday, but I feel like all of nerd-dom has already watched it. I am waiting. This is not a moral stance. I have no morals. I just don’t want the series to end, and it can only go one of two ways. It can be hugely disappointing and I’ll end the season with a ‘meh’, or it will be a super awesome cliffhanger and I’ll be holding my breath until….well.. Christmas?
I’ve already written on how much I love Amy Pond, the new companion. I think she did really well this series, and I am looking forward to seeing more of her. I went in to Matt Smith as the eleventh Doctor with an open mind and was richly rewarded. I felt he was able to switch really easily from being vulnerable and goofy, to being incredibly sad and morbidly dark. Tennant could do this, but even in the saddest moments of his run, you kind of felt like his goofy grin would come back at any moment. With the eleventh Doctor, I was legitimately worried at times that he would never ever smile again.
I had to keep reminding myself of the general theory of who-niverse silliness relativism. The last series ended on such a dark note, I was at times taken aback by how silly the show can be, but I just had to remind myself that the last Doctor saved the world with an orange that happened to be in his pocket. It’s a silly show.
I think it was the guest characters that I found to be profoundly lacking, ie. there was no one to the caliber of Jack Harkness. Liz 10, the future Queen of England, was the highlight for me, while I find River Song to be a dingbat on all accounts. Winston Churchill was good, if a little over done, and the whole Van Gogh episode was mildly entertaining but sophomoric.
I always find that the boyfriend of the companion is a really tough character to write. I think, should I be picked up by the TARDIS, I should be allowed to ditch any mere mortal I may be dating in favor of crazy Doctor sex, BUT, the mythos of the show involves the companion having a soft spot for the old boyfriend. This works because it makes the relationship with the Doctor deeper, but usually leaves the boyfriend character pouting in a corner. Amy’s fiance Rory annoyed me, but in a pitiful sort of way.
By far, my favorite episode of the series was ‘The Lodger’. Raw human love wins over murderous automated invaders. Yeah, I’m a sap. And I was really impressed by some of the scary bits this seasn. I was screaming during the weeping angels episode and plugging my ears whenever they’d tease Dalek attacks. Writers smacked you over the head with the ‘cracks in the wall’ foreshadowing. I can’t even say foreshadowing, more like waving their arms saying ‘this is going to be resolved in the finale somehow!’. Still a nice reminder of the Doctor’s internal tension about how he tries to do good, but wonders if he’s really doing any good at all.
So may I set up the season finale for you? All of the Doctor’s enemies are convinced that the Doctor will, somehow, cause the end of the universe, so they gang up on him to keep him contained for the rest of time. We get to see all the wonderful baddies, including the pride Daleks, the Cybermen, and my favorite, the Judoon! The future looks bleak for Amy, River Song, the TARDIS, and the poor Doctor.
The Doctor Who series five finale airs Saturday night on BBC America and the SPACE Channel.
I wasn’t enjoying Inception as much as I’d hoped during the first half of the film. I couldn’t answer why, there was just something about it I couldn’t put my finger on. It was by the halfway mark that I realised what it was; genius was being crafted before me. The lead-up to the films denouement is meticulously paced, the timing is intentional in every nuance and movement. Every line of dialogue spoken, every note of the score.
Chris Nolan has written and directed a film so layered and complex that Inception warrants multiple viewings to really appreciate the story-telling and film-making on their individual planes. The width and breadth of the palette Nolan paints with stretches the audience to it’s breaking limit, breathlessly weaving intricacies within the story with visual dreamscapes. Never letting up until the final, brilliant, shot.
To call Nolan a visionary is an understatement. His concepts of theme, time, pace and spatial relationship all co-exist on a level that most film-makers would never dare grapple. Take James Cameron and Avatar. Without special effects that film is nothing. It’s a dry, mundane story we’ve seen a thousand times over, with every effect in the film meant to draw an illicit gasp from the viewer. The opposite can be said of Inception. The effects are amazing don’t get me wrong, but at no time do you feel drawn out of the film to comment on them. They are so perfectly executed, and flow so freely within the story that you are never pulled from the grip of the film.
And this is why Inception works so well. There is only one way to balance the story with the visuals which is to let Nolan weave the tale his way. The films run-time, 148 minutes, could be no shorter than it is. Too cut anything from the film would deviate from the incredible build-up in tension and artistry. We need to understand the characters, we need the story to unfold before us as it does the players in the film. If we were to learn things early on, it would ruin the suspense that is tantamount in the films closing 20 minutes. This is where I realise I wasn’t NOT enjoying the first half of the film. I know now that I was being led deliberately down a path towards my own realisations within the film. This is the gift of a truly masterful craftsman.
I’ll give no synopsis. No explanation of events. Any information going into the film would only serve as a detriment to the artistic direction of Nolan. That is why I read no reviews before going in to see the film. Something I suggest you do too…except for this one, daddy needs a paycheque!
So here is what I will say, in a cute bullet format…
As much as this film is amazing, it would lose 75% of it’s effectiveness without the absolutely stunning score by Hans Zimmer. If you don’t believe in the power of music in setting moods for a film, then watch Inception with no score and see how different it is.
Joseph Gordon-Levitt is one of the most talented actors in film today. His performance in the film is outstanding.
Cillian Murphy has always been one of my favourite actors. But he is quickly becoming my all-time fave. His screen time is quite small in the film compared to the other actors, but what he does with the real estate is extraordinary.
Again, this is a film where the special effects are so critical to the plot, but NEVER overshadow the performances or writing. No small feat in today’s film world.
Leo DiCaprio gives an absolutely amazing performance. This guy can do no wrong. He is at his top form here, matching the brilliance of his ‘The Aviator’ role.
Now, I have one small contention. Ellen Page. She wasn’t bad. But I felt like she was in over her head with the calibre of talent surrounding her. My substitute would have been Carey Mulligan who I think is going to be the biggest actress to come out of Hollywood in decades. But I’m biased cause I’m gonna marry her. or keep her down a well in my backyard (next to Ryan Reynolds buried coffin. Follow us on Facebook and you’ll get that joke!).
Chris Nolan is the most talented man in Hollywood. From Memento to The Dark Knight and now Inception, he is giving us worlds beyond many imaginings. Yes, Inception is THAT good, but it’s because of Nolans vision, perfectionism and love of film that it is that good. This film will be taught at film school’s, will be on lists the world over for it’s achievements, will be studied. But at the end of the day, it’s the journey that counts. And this journey is one that we will all take, many times, until our Top never stops spinning.
I was recently asked by a potential suitor this question: if you could only read one comic book series for the rest of your life, which one would it be? Good question, eh? I mulled over the question, thinking about the poetry of Sin City, and the depth of imagery of Preacher and finally said, “Batman. It is the only logical conclusion. It goes on forever.”
This may be slightly cheating I guess, but the Bat-verse does go on forever, and it is continuing to forever go on as we speak. Right now, Bruce Wayne is head-butting his way through history and will inevitably kill us all with his doomsday-edness. Yes, I reserve the right to make up words when discussing Batman.
So what’s the state of the Bat-verse?
Neil Adams is delivering a 12 part series entitled Batman Odyssey. I’m not sure what it’s about because as soon as someone uses the word ‘matrix’ in a plot description, I stop reading and go do something else. I picked up the first issue, and Adams’ drawing of Bruce Wayne is kind of hot. Sometimes Bruce gets a little too square-jawed for my liking, but he’s done perfectly in this series. There’s a lesson on how guns are wrong and how Batman should be a sleuth, and Bruce yells at Man-Bat, and there may or may not be a dinosaur bone bomb? There are 11 more issues. It may make sense at some point. There is a higher likelihood that it will not make any sense at all.
Batman 701 is a two-parter entitled RIP The Missing Chapter. Now my comic book guy quipped that he didn’t even know there was a chapter missing, but I’ve read RIP and Final Crisis and Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader, and I can’t sort it all out. Picking up my copy of RIP, I was able to determine that Batman 701 fits nicely in between two frames near the last of the book. Bats goes missing, and then he’s dead, in RIP. In 701, he manages to check in at the bat-cave for some of Alfred’s signature mulligatawny, and heads off for some sleuthing, and it’s a ‘to be continued’. I’m not even kidding.
The Batman and Robin series continues to impress visually. Like really, if you’re a Joker fan, pick up issue 13 for the gorgeous yet disturbing cover alone. It saddens me that I know far too little about art to describe the techniques faithfully, but there are points were Robin reminds you of a little toy soldier nut-cracker doll (there’s a pun there, cause he’s gonna kick the Joker’s ass). I was worried about Frazer Irving’s art style, but he blended in the primary color simplicity of the series with some really messed up distorted imagery.
And what about The Return of Bruce Wayne? We are half way through the series, and I still am a giant MEH on the art. Issue one features prehistoric Batman. Of course, the cavemen think he’s a man-god and Bruce doesn’t disappoint, kicking some ass in a makeshift Bat-skin costume. Supes and his team arrive too late to catch Bruce, as he has disappeared into the next time shift. Apparently if Brucey makes it back to the 21st century, everyone dies.
Issue two features pilgrim Bruce, and a scathing social commentary on the tragedy of the witch trials and the toll man takes on nature. Yawn. Bruce makes out with a hot witch-pilgrim chick though. In issue three, we don’t actually get to see pirate Batman, except on the cover. Bruce does headbutt Blackbeard which is neat, and there is a special guest character at the end.
Philosophical question: is Bruce working his way back in time to set himself up to be the Batman? Or does the bat stuff bring Bruce back to his Batman-ness, so he can leave clues for Dick and Damian and the Justice League? What comes first, the bat or the Batman? Time travel makes me queasy.
Last month, there was a series of villain one shots called Joker’s Asylum. I’m not a villain fan, so I only picked up the Mad Hatter issue, and it was absolutely sublime! Must read for any Alice fans, or fans of general psychosis expressed in art.
I am slowly being distracted by Batman converse shoes, but I’ll quickly run down next week’s highlights. Comic book day will bring us the finale to the first half of Kevin Smith’s superb Batman:Widening Gyre, then we’re in for a six month wait for volume two (bastards). Batman: Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader is coming out in softcover, collecting Neil Gaiman’s two issues and some other junk. And Return of Bruce Wayne is back with issue four: COWBOY BATMAN! Note: It is not actually called COWBOY BATMAN, but it should be.
As someone who writes about, and is simply in love with film, I watch a lot of movies. The keyword there being watch. I find myself immersed, to a degree, while I take everything in, the writer in me taking notes while the film fan in me enjoys the entertainment. Again, I watch a ton of movies. But rarely am I lost in one. Inception, Christopher Nolan’s finest film to date, had me forgetting I was in a movie theatre. I was simply mesmerized.
Inception is that good.
I’m going to keep this review short and sweet, avoiding any spoilers nor explaining the plot in great detail. You’ve seen the trailers, as minimalist and cryptic as they may be, and frankly that is all you need to see. Inception is a truly unweaving story that demands every fibre of your attention and submission. Just as the title suggests, you need not work at all; just let Nolan plant this seed in your mind and let it grow naturally. What evolves from then is a perfectly crafted, perfectly paced, perfectly executed thriller. But it’s more than just a thriller. It’s a heist film. It’s an action film. It lives and breathes emotion and philosophy and science. And it does each and everyone of these things flawlessly. Most importantly though, Inception is extremely interesting and fun. You take the subject matter, dreams and heists and corporate sabotage, and it’s easy to paint a dry picture. I think that the majority of audiences will be surprised at just how into this film they will be, and how much excitement they’ll feel, regardless of their anticipation going in.
For a film with a significant amount of its run-time taking place inside of someone’s dreams, Inception is very much grounded in reality. Granted there is very little content that comes off far-fetched or surreal, the events, the locales and the reactions are incredibly tangible. There’s no obvious sound-stages; when the film takes place in a skyscraper, you’re in a skyscraper. If a fight breaks out in a Japanese mansion, you’re in a Japanese mansion. A huge aspect of Inception revolves around the architecture of the mind, and it’s a brilliant concept to treat the subconscious as a literal landscape where an actual architect could create and contort and twist and turn, while keeping everything entirely believable.
There’s a reason why Nolan keeps bringing back his regular talent, from crew to cast to composer – they are perfect for the job, and Inception is no exception. Nolanverse regulars Cillian Murphy, Ken Watanabe, Michael Caine and composer Hans Zimmer all delivery wonderfully, while the new additions to the director’s repertoire outperform themselves. Both Tom Hardy and Joseph Gordon-Levitt are magnetic in their roles, two actors that seem to have no ceiling in sight to their success. Ellen Page has shaken all of her Juno stigma as young architect Ariadne, bringing a subtle neutrality to the film, sort of a psychological anchor if you will. The lead of the film, Leonardo DiCaprio, could very well have given one of, if not the best performances of his career as Dom Cobb, a man whose job it is to protect people’s ideas from being stolen from their subconscious. For once, DiCaprio has shed all of his baby-face wonderkind presence (I mean that in the best way possible, Leo D is undeniably an amazing actor), instead becoming Cobb’s skin, Cobb’s mind. With stars as huge as him, you tend to always see the actor as the character. Not once did I associate DiCaprio with Cobb, they are one and the same and entirely genuine.
There are some films that are undeniably of a higher calibre than most. They are unmistakable quality. You could give two shits about dreams or ideas or physics and architecture, but if there were an ounce of recognition of art and accomplishment in your body, it’s painfully obvious that Inception is one of those films. It’s frightening and astounding just how good Christopher Nolan is at what he does. Storytelling. Creating. Entertaining. I most certainly believe Nolan has taken his talents to another level with this film; in an instant, Inception (though it’s unwise to compare the two) is a far greater film than The Dark Knight, The Prestige or even Memento. It’s wild to think that not only did this come from his mind, but he crafted it so precisely and wonderfully. It kind of makes me want to quit everything I will ever do.
With this one film, the worst movie year in a long time has been saved. It’s also crushing though, as I sincerely doubt it can get close to as good as Inception.
I love the original Predator. In my opinion it’s a damn near-perfect action-sci-fi film. Great cast, great action, great cat and mouse thriller, amazing score. It’s a ‘classic’. This then set up a universe, a mythos, or as studios like to call them, a franchise. Before you knew it, this franchise had built up comic books and video games and three more movies. But the thing is, most of it hasn’t been any good. While I remain a very vocal champion of the first sequel, Predator 2, has there really been anything Predator to sing about? Has anything really captured the essence of the Schwarzenegger film? Go watch the AVP films and then answer that… a resounding no.
It was after years of promise and failure and tainted childhood fantasies that I grew weary of anything Predator being anything good. Even when it was announced that Robert Rodriguez would be spearheading this new entry, one that would apparently ignore the rest of the films save for the original, I was cautious. I’m just not sure I cared any more. I wanted more than anything a good Predator film, but at this point I realized I would still have all that really mattered, John McTiernan’s 1987 film – which I recently revisited, and subsequently fell in love with once more. Oh but the kid in me, the fan inside, showed his excitement as the time drew near and the lights dimmed in the theater.
I’m happy that Predators was made. Not only is it a great sequel – though not without its flaws – but it gives me hope for the future of Hollywood. How does it give me hope? Well, it’s proof. Proof that you can make a franchise without selling out, or selling garbage. Proof that you can pay homage to something and tell a new story within an established continuity. Most of all, it’s proof that you can have fun with a film without suffering from the modern action movie pitfalls that deflate so many of our screens. Predators (produced by Robert Rodriguez, directed by Nimrod Antal) is the proof that you can capture the tone of another artists work, decades after the fact, and revitalize a dead franchise. Now, there’s an awful lot of proof-spewing going on here, do not confuse that with me claiming this film to be a masterpiece – it is no Predator. It is just very good, and with a concept as simple as man (in this case, men) versus hunter, that’s what I wanted. Predators makes the last two AVP films that much worse.
The film starts a lot quicker than it’s predecessor. Eight humans are dropped, literally, into a jungle planet, with no recollection how the got there. They simply just land. These aren’t just regular schmucks like you or I off the street, most of these cats are already equipped with guns and knives and bandoleers and scars. We quickly learn, as do they, that each one of them is dangerous. One is a former black ops mercenary, one a former federale, one a yakuza, and so forth. It isn’t long before the hunt begins and this rag tag group of no-gooders clue in to them being the prey for the alien predator race. From here on out it’s fairly straight-forward action with explosions, fire, blades, lasers and plenty of bullets and screaming.
The original Predator had great characters, all very memorable and they worked very well together. Schwarzenegger shed most of his on-screen goofiness at this point. Carl Weathers was a complete badass that would’ve whooped Apollo Creed in a minute. Jesse Ventura was a goddamn sexual tyrannosaurus. It was very much a team driven movie, even if they were wiped out, one by one. Predators takes the same approach, but nearly doubles the roster and spins the table around – they’re not soldiers this time, they’re more or less scum, and most of them don’t get along. This is where the film gets stretched a little thin. There are too many characters to care about and too little development. In Predator you have very strong, abrasive characters, yes, but they were people, fully fleshed and emotional. Predators really only features archetypes – the wimp, the crazy, the leader. There are strong performances indeed – Adrien Brody is a fantastic leading man and convincing badass, and Laurence Fishburne is a vibrant addition to the film – but overall, Predators lacks that connection to the human plight that made the first film so memorable.
Also, for a film that paces itself rather well and gets a good rhythm going in terms of the story and the action, there are a couple of moments in the third act that dampen the narrative. There is one completely unnecessary character twist that shoehorns its way into the big finale of the film. I also I found the ending to be a little too anti-climactic, though I’m anticipating a sequel.
That’s really the only nitpicks I have with the film. The rest of Predators is entirely fun and in the spirit of the original, right down the the iconic score – which, just like in the first film, is its own character. God, I love that score. It’s also refreshing to see practical effects and costumes. Granted, there are a couple of CG baddies – the contrived predator dogs (predadogs?) – the monsters in this film are straight outta ‘87 and everything feels very real and tangible. Quite the opposite from the horrendously large and clumsy creatures from the two Alien vs. Predator films.
At the end of the day, no film can top the original. It’s a pointless task to even try. Predators is however, a valiant follow up and a true sequel. Go ahead and throw out those other DVDs -but keep Predator 2, because you’re being too hard on it – and check this one out. It could be the only decent action film we’ll get this summer.
Many films make this claim, or claims like this. Some use shock value to drive audiences to the theatre, capitalizing on our mass curiosity of the perverse. Some use shock value as a means to express themselves creatively. Or so they say. Regardless, it seems that every couple of years we get that one movie that has everyone buzzing, proclaiming it as the most disturbing movie you will ever see! while church groups and protective parents sharpen their pitchforks.
Do they always pan out the way they’re promoted? Are they ever truly shocking or inventive? Is it all hype? Let’s take a look back at 8 of the most sensationally shocking films to stir up audiences over the years.
The Last House On The Left (1972 / 2009)
Wes Craven’s big-screen debut tackled a fairly untapped topic back in 1972 – gang rape. Not the raping of gang members, but of the lead character, seventeen year-old Mari. The brutality doesn’t end there though, as Mari’s parents continue the savage violence, this time towards their daughter’s assailants.
The film, in both its sexual and violent nature, received a slew of censorship and was banned in multiple countries, though the UK took offense to its existence the most. The film was finally given a release in the UK, with an 18 rating, in June of 2002 after 31 seconds of sexual violence was cut out.
The film was remade in 2009 and kept fairly close to the original film. This version is still quite a tense horror film, but an excruciatingly long and explicit rape scene (involving a minor, no less) makes this unwatchable in my books. Showing the audience that much rape and for that long is completely unnecessary and just downright horrible.
Rating: Rape is really tough to sell, even against the backdrop of a revenge film.
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974)
Tobe Hooper melded real-life events and brave, new fictional horror with his 1974 masterpiece, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, which followed four friends found in the clutches of a vile, cannibalistic family in the backwoods of rural Texas. Leatherface, one of the film’s villains, was quickly solidified as a true icon of horror.
While the film carries the reputation as being shocking and gross, TCM is one of the few films of its time that manages to move past that stigma and captivate audiences on a truly visceral level. Everything aside, this is a fine film, an influential film. Like any progressive-thinking horror film though, Massacre carries with it the requisite controversy; a screening in San Francisco had theater-goers running out of the cinema, and Toronto police actually asked a theater to pull the it, due to local crime believed to have been exacerbated by the movie.
Whether you love the film or hate it, one can’t argue that The Texas Chainsaw Massacre’s release was an important day in the annals of film history. On October 1, 1974, audiences could not have expected nor would they have wished to see as much of the mad and macabre as they were to see that day.
Rating: A true classic.
I Spit On Your Grave (1978)
Originally titled ‘Day of the Woman’, I Spit On Your Grave is another rape-revenge film, only this time the victim herself is the one on the bloody rampage following a graphic and horrible assault in the woods. The interesting part of this film is just how the victim manages to exact her revenge: with sex. The same power her assailants took over her is the same means for her to dish it right back to them. One by one, young Jennifer Hills seduces these monsters, and in their moment of vulnerability she ends them (she even chops one of their “rape tools” off in a bathtub). ISOYG is a little less realistic than The Last House on the Left, and a tad easier to watch, with the victim being (arguably) vindicated.
Just like Last House, the film felt the cold hand of censors in the US, and was even banned in a few other countries. The film carries a sordid debate of whether or not it glorifies violence against women or portrays a strong, feministic message, [SPOILER] with the female lead winning in the end. Regardless, it’s high up there on the list of films some people can’t bear to watch. Roger Ebert famously said the film is “a vile bag of garbage…without a shred of artistic distinction”.
Watch it for yourself, if you have the fortitude.
Rating: More shock than substance.
Cannibal Holocaust (1980)
Is there any urban legend greater than Cannibal Holocaust? Unfortunately, the film is real. Unfortunately, it’s no good and the legends, the things you’ve heard about the film, are more shocking than the film itself.
There isn’t really a story to Cannibal Holocaust. If there is, it’s so thinly veiled over the attempts to work viewers into an “oh my god did I just see that” frenzy. Played out as lost footage, 19 years before The Blair Witch would use such a device, the film follows a documentarian as he searches the Amazonian rainforest for a crew of lost American anthropologists. It becomes clear rather quickly, that they’ve been caught by a tribe of cannibals.
The film is notorious for a number of things, mainly the on-screen killing of animals (to be specific, a caotimundi, tarantula, snake, squirrel, monkey and pig are all literally murdered in the film, uncensored) and the subsequent criminal investigation involving the film’s director, Rugerro Deodato, following the release. Four days following the film’s debut in Milan, Deodato was arrested under suspicion that all of the deaths in the film, of humans, not just animals, were real and that Cannibal Holocaust was a legitimate snuff film. Prior to its release, Deodato had it in the performer’s contracts that they could not appear in any other media for a year following the release of the film, to keep up the appearance of this being a documentary. That quickly came up to bite him in the butt, and Deodato had to gather the actors on an Italian talk show to prove it was, in fact, not real. The long arm of the law retaliated by banning the film for the next three years, until it was released in 1984 with a significant amount of cuts.
Cannibal Holocaust is a terrible film. Not just because of the animal cruelty, though really that’s enough, but because there really is no point to the film other than showing us disturbing imagery (for example, a naked woman being sacrificed via bludgeoning with a phallic stone after having been raped by it). By today’s standards, the violence isn’t all that shocking, but still, Cannibal Holocaust is just bad in every way.
Rating: A complete waste of celluloid. Offensive.
The SAW Films (2004 – 2010)
The greatest trick the devil ever pulled, was releasing a new Saw film every year for the last seven years to huge box office success. Somehow the powers that be have taken what Cannibal Holocaust was on paper, added some flashy camera techniques and recycled sets and made it completely mainstream and accessible.
Now, I don’t mean to come down on the Saw films, I found the first to be a valiant effort with an interesting idea (performances aside) and the third film to be interesting. I also applaud the use of non-linear storytelling over the course of the films, even if they have become more contrived than an M. Night Shyamalan film. The fact of the matter is that these films really aren’t good, and they most definitely are made for one reason: money. Ok, maybe two reasons: money, and “what crazy contraption can we cook up that will kill this dude”. The first film debuted the infamous jaw-snapping trap, and if you can get past the erratic music-video camera cuts then you have a mighty thrilling scene were young Amanda escapes the device. As the series progressed, we were privvy to more intricate, and ridiculous traps and torture machines, taking the thrill away from the kill.
Regardless, Saw has made it’s mark on Hollywood whether the franchise ends with this years Saw VII or finds a way to continue on Jigsaw’s legacy (dude has been dead for more films than he’s been alive). It’s not the worst horror franchise to exist, and at least it makes no false claims as to what it really is: superfluous and gross.
Rating: If lessons in torture is what you like, then you’ll find Saw to be as satisfying as McDonalds.
Hostel (2005)
Two young American sex-hounds travel through Europe in search of thrills, unbeknownst to them that an underground organization exists to put their lives in the hands of the highest bidder. Moral of the story: Stay the fuck out of Slovakia.
Like Saw before it, Eli Roth’s Hostel – one of the first films to earn the “torture porn” label – used shock as its linchpin. The difference between these films, is that Hostel is far more effective at telling a story and making us care for our main characters. The violence and gore, though abundant, isn’t there for the sake of being there, and actually has connective tissue to the plight of our victims. The film’s direction is a step above Saw, and on the whole everything feels much more real as opposed to just being splattered on the screen. If anything Hostel carries with it far more subtext (cultural ignorance, sexuality, fetishism) than any other “gorno” film like it. And it’s sickly funny.
Hostel received its fair share of criticism and backlash from censors and parents alike, but ultimately the film lurched beyond that stigma and ended up a fairly successful mainstream film, putting Eli Roth on the map and letting him do a second Hostel (ultimately not as well-received as the first). A third film in the series is being made without Roth’s participation.
Rating: A fun yet squirm-inducing trip through the wild mind of Eli Roth.
Antichrist (2009)
Based on my review, Antichrist could be the most artistically driven film on the list. The buzz surrounding the film made it out to be the most vulgar, explicit thing ever made, and that couldn’t be farther from the truth. There are less than a handful of scenes which are tough to watch, but they exist within this beautiful and haunting story of a husband and wife in mourning over their dead son. Not your typical horror movie, is it? Lars Von Trier’s take on the genre is stunningly shot, and the performances from Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg are award-worthy.
Many factors led to this film being inaccessible; it’s a small, art-house type film that received limited runs in most cities (though to be fair, it is available to stream online through Netflix and Amazon) and naturally, the violent content played a part in Antichrist becoming one of those films that was talked about and written off before it was even seen. The film stands alone in this list as being the only one to truly balance story, visuals and shock in a work of art.
Rating: Absurd and beautiful at the same time. Seek this out.
The Human Centipede: First Sequence (2009)
If you haven’t yet heard about The Human Centipede, let me paint you a picture: one of Europe’s top surgeons specializing in the separation of conjoined twins suddenly goes batshit and figures he’s been doing it wrong. Now, thanks to the help of two hapless American tourists and a Japanese man, Dr. Heiter conducts his breakthrough experiment – connecting three humans via one digestive system. You got it… ass to mouth. To the power of three.
It plays out just as insanely as it sounds, and yet remains totally watchable. The film isn’t more graphic than anything we’ve ever seen; if anything the explicitness of the film’s gore is over-hyped and really only tied to one scene. It’s just the sheer fucking thought of it and the sight of three adults with their mouths sewn to each others asses while a crazy German doctor spits orders at them, like you would an unruly mutt. Once you get past the absurdity of the situation, the horror element begins to sink in, and you realize that holy shit, this is actually a plausible, horrifying situation. The film’s use of tension by way of our main character’s struggle to escape – she’s the middle of the centipede, and worst possible placement – is entirely effective, and dare i say it, entertaining. Centipede is actually a good movie, and it doesn’t just rest its hat on the one gimmick, even though it very well could have.
If anything, The Human Centipede should be applauded for giving us German actor Dieter Laser, who is now a national film-geek treasure. His performance as the twisted Dr. Heiter is one for the history books; entirely engrossing and completely and utterly batshit insane.
The film is currently making rounds in limited release.
Rating: Unique, macabre and daring, all rolled into a three-assed beast of beauty.
Films like these, whether they have a solid leg to stand on or are being shocking for shock’s sake, will continue to pop up every year or so. Having examined the progression of the level of violence and just how much a film can get away with, I’m curious as to how we could possibly push the boundaries any further. With films like Saw and Hostel being mainstream hits, what does that mean for the smaller films? Will they need to really step out of the box, conceptually, to shock audiences like The Human Centipede?
Modern media and the internet have provided an endless stream of real violence, one need not be on YouTube for long before they can see it, so how does this exposure, this desensitization affect our stomachs at the movies?
Oh M. Night Shyamalan. I can’t think of another working filmmaker that’s had this many chances (Uwe Boll and Paul Anderson don’t count) and continues to disappoint. Though The Last Airbender – an adaptation of the celebrated animated series Avatar: The Last Airbender – isn’t nearly as bad as his 2008 cinematic abortion The Happening, there’s almost nothing to enjoy about this mish-mash of children’s movie and fantasy epic.
The story, from what I could make of it, is as follows: the world (what world it is, I’m not sure) is split up into nations based on the elements fire, water, wind and air. Within each nation are benders, folks that can control their respective element – firebenders can manipulate fire, waterbenders can manipulate water, and so on. When the firebenders decide to wage war on the rest of the nations, a young Avatar (keep your lawyers at bay James Cameron, it’s pronounced Ah-vatar) with the ability to manipulate all four elements appears in the arctic, with the ability to bend all four elements. Apparently this little bald kid will bring balance to the force… err… nations, and it’s a race between the fire nation and an outcast firebender to capture young Aang, the last airbender and ah-vatar.
For the record, I haven’t seen, nor am I really familiar with the Nickelodeon series, but I’ve heard very good things about the show. It’s apparently full of character and charm and excitement, none of which are an element of the film. The Last Airbender is totally confused. It knows what it wants to be, and could very well have been something great, but is never given the chance or the appropriate avenue to shine. It’s equal parts serious, dense fantasy and superfluous children’s programming. What happens because of this, is a story that moves at such an erratic pace that you can’t quite follow what’s going on or who the characters are. The characters that get little development and provide nothing for us to latch on to. Even if I wasn’t wearing those awful 3D sunglasses, a dark layer of film over my eyes would remove me from anything happening on screen. I simply didn’t care, from the first scene – a couple paragraphs of exposition, followed by the arctic discovery of our young ah-vatar – to the last scene – a clumsy, anti-climactic battle scene between the waterbenders and firebenders.
Aside from the script, which I’m assuming M. Night wrote after chugging some NyQuil, the film fails miserably due to its performances. The acting in the film is cringe-worthy, even for young, inexperienced actors seen here. The absolutely stale dialogue notwithstanding, there isn’t one memorable stand-out in the cast. Aang, the titular airbender, has about as much personality as creamed corn. Now now, all you creamed corn enthusiasts, settle down, I’m just saying it’s hard to buy a character’s goals and struggles when there is nothing to like about them at all. No excitement. No Neo.
There’s a ton of backlash for The Last Airbender already, and the film hasn’t even come out yet. Roger Ebert calls it “an agonizing experience in every category I can think of and others still waiting to be invented”. While Airbender is not a good movie, I think that’s a little harsh. The film does have a few interesting effects sequences and the set-design is top-notch. The best thing in the movie though, is the score from James Newton Howard. It was almost enough to bring me into the film’s finale. But still, too little too late.
I would love to say that this film could work for kids, and that the 11 year-old in me would enjoy it, but sadly I think this one will be lost on your youngins. For them it will be too boring, too confusing and just plain bland. They’ll be clamoring for Speed Racer after 15 minutes.
Remember the shockingly bad 3D in Clash of the Titans? Well, just like that film, Airbender’s 3D was the product of post-conversion. The funny thing is, the 3D in Airbender is barely noticeable. Seriously, the film looks like normal 2D almost all of the time, with exception to a few action scenes. Even then it’s toned down so much that it basically feels like you’re watching a decent looking film with a pair of Raybans on. With that in mind, if you must see the film in the theater, don’t spend the extra dollars for the 3D version, you’d be throwing your extra dollars away.
I’m curious to see how the film plays out this opening weekend. With Twilight Eclipse shattering records already this week, there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell of coming in #1. The property does have a built-in and rather feverish audience though, so we’re bound to see some numbers. I’ve heard the film, although poor, is fairly faithful to the source material, so maybe the fans will be more forgiving. There’s also no doubt that this is set up for a trilogy of movies – the film opens with a ‘Book 1: Water’ title, and let’s just say that it finishes glaringly open-ended.
I’m taking bets on whether or not Shyamalan can keep his head above the water much longer to see this one out.
Director: Tomas Alfredson Writer: John Ajvide Lindqvist Released: October 24, 2008 Gross: $10,562,447
I love discovering gems. Accidentally finding something that makes me remember what it is to be in love with cinema. “Let The Right One In” falls so deeply and strangely in that category. This film moved me profoundly on so many levels of ‘cinephile’ that I’m still engrossed by the film this next morning as I write it’s review.
Classification of this 2008 Norwegian multiple award-winning film is difficult. It’s labelled as Horror, it IS about a vampire…a 12 year old vampire. But there are elements of a love story, coming-of-age drama and film-noir…it’s impossible to look at this as simply a Horror film.
12 year old Oskar lives with his divorced mother, often visits his young-at-heart father who offers no direction and is bullied relentlessly at school, especially by his nemesis Conny. Oskar dreams of revenge, playing out scenarios in his apartments back courtyard, regularly attacking a tree with his pocket-knife, uttering the threats he wish he could say to his tormentors. Oskar soon notices young Eli move into the apartment next to his with her father. The first thing they do is cover the windows with cardboard. We quickly learn that this is not Eli’s father, but her renfield, a man that collects blood for her, as she is vampire. Eli and Oskar begin to forge a tenuous relationship that grows deeper as the story progresses. Eli teaches Oskar to stand up for himself, Oskar teaches Eli friendship. Oskar eventually learns of Eli’s fate, taking us down a road both horrific and beautiful, as both characters struggle to find their place in the world and each others lives.
We are treated to two bravura performances by young Norwegian actors Kare Hedebrant and Lina Leandersson (Oskar and Eli respectively), who manage to tackle the ideals behind loneliness, isolation, confusion, frustration and terror better than any actor that the Twilight series (or many of the films that fall in LTROI’s category) can throw at you. This film screams contrast, one minute you’re reeling at the viciousness that this young vampire can deal out on her victims and the next be struck by the tenderness tendered between these two characters even standing in the carnage of her crimes. It is quite simply an unequalled parallel in story-telling.
This is a stark and cold film. Set in winter. Bland greys. Very little color. And that’s the way it should be. Oskar and Eli are both trapped in their own darkness, for very different reasons. This dark veil is never lifted during the film. There’s no sense of real closure, no absolution for either character. We start this journey with them, and when we come to the films conclusion, we are as absorbed in their lives as they, but just as they don’t know where their road is leading, we don’t either. We leave them as unsure as they are.
The brutality of this film hit at my core, because it is so real. The bullying is real. It’s not over-the-top, it’s what bullying is…more mental rule than physical violence. Oskar delves within himself during these times, and I wanted to go to the place he goes then. He doesn’t try to run from his captors, he understands the consequences. He accepts his punishments as any lonely confused child would. Eli on the other hand has to kill. When she loses her renfield her hunger becomes too much to bear, and she does what comes naturally. Cold, somewhat calculated. It unsettles us a viewers to see vampiric violence portrayed this way. And there is no softening of the horror as was Kirsten Dunsts young vampire portrayal in “Interview With The Vampire”, Eli kills gruesomely. The sights and sounds of this twelve year old girl unnerve the audience, but to Eli, this is what she has done for more than 200 years…this is life. Or death.
The relationship between Oskar and Eli is tragic at best. Oskar finds himself slowly coming into his own sexuality, falling in love with Eli. Eli knows that there is no way there can be a relationship between the two, but allows herself to begin to feel for Oskar. When we witness the scene of Eli coming to Oskar’s window (”you have to invite me in”), and crawling into bed with Oskar, we almost forget that this is a turned creature that must kill to live. It’s two young teens, coming to terms with life and emotions that are confusing. Neither has anyone they can talk to about this, they only have each other. I, as well as almost anyone, could relate to what these characters felt in that moment. We’ve all been there at some point in our lives.
That is where “Let The Right One In” works so well. It balances the parallels between horror and coming of age so well, that it could be one of the best movies of either class. It’s story so fully envelopes you within the two characters, that there is no emotional disconnect when the credits role. Leandersson is such an amazing talent in this film, brings such a feeling of both menace and love to this anti-hero, that she steals every scene she is in. When Oskar dares her to enter his house without giving her permission to come in, and she does so, her transformation before our eyes is startling. Very little effect is needed (blood pouring from all orifices) for us to believe that she is in exquisite agony, on the verge of death, so convincing her acting is.
Some may find the subject matter disturbing. The visuals and stark reality of the storytelling distasteful. Those are the people that argue that the Twilight films portray vampires in an accurate light. This film shows the vampire myth in it’s true form. These are flawed tragic characters that must kill. Everyday. Add to that the confusion of youth, the harsh realities of adolescence and the bitter feeling of lose and loneliness, and you get not only one of the best vampire films in decades, you get one of the best foreign films I have seen in years. See this film as soon as you can.
(One word of warning about the DVD release. I have read that the DVD version of the film has incorrect sub-titles, I have yet to find if this has been corrected in a subsequent DVD/Blu-Ray release. There are moments in the film where Oskar and Eli communicate through Morse code and these are not translated on the screen in N. American versions. So, beware that you find the right version, if it’s available yet)
Head on over to Amazon and check out the DVD or Blu-Ray today.
Disney/Pixar’s Toy Story 3 is a film that not only caps an amazing and inventive trilogy effectively and emotionally, but it knocks on the door of perfection and begs to be let in.
Andy has turned 17 and is about to go to college. He’s faced with the dilemma of what to do with the toys he’s grown apart with. Trash, donation or attic. This of course has all our old friends in a quandary. Hero Woody tries to keep the team together and calm, as always, but this time his own doubts linger. Old stand-bys Buzz Lightyear, T-Rex, Mr. & Mrs. Potatohead, Slinky, Jessie and Hamm are all convinced they’re certain to be tomorrow’s garbage. To say anymore would give away plot points, but suffice it to say, eventually the toys must get back to Andy and the safety of the attic.
Some toys have gone, Bo-Peep and Etch to name a few, and MANY toys make a new appearance. It adds a freshness to the series, and gives us the chance to witness some great comedic moments…especially with Barbie’s beau Ken. In fact, this Toy Story has so many moments of incredible laughter that I would say it’s one of the freshest comedies I’ve seen in recent years. Buzz Lightyear and Mr. Potatohead in particular are given special treatment with some particularly inspired comedic moment’s showcasing, again, the strength of Pixar’s writing team.
In addition to comedy, Pixar has raised the bar with action in TS3 as well. The studio is no stranger to elaborate action sequences with past films like The Incredibles and Monsters Inc. but it feels like TS3 has more action in it than any of the other films made…and that’s a good thing. It’s fast paced and frenetic, sometimes leaving little time to catch your breath, and even inducing a few gasp worthy moments out of me. It’s another feather in the cap of Pixar that they can balance comedy, action and emotion so well.
And emotion the film has. Two moments in particular really stand out in my mind, one being the end of the film, which not only brings together the story perfectly, but also gives a salute to a trilogy that has come to define Pixar and animated films on a whole. The other is such a touching scene of desperation that to say any more would ruin it completely for you, so I’ll let you be surprised. The emotions the film invokes feel like a wonderful hug and a fond goodbye to characters we’ve come to love and laugh with as our inner child slowly grows to it’s inevitable adulthood.
Technically the film is as beautiful as any Pixar film to date. The simplicity of the sets are still there, but the studio has grown and learned on the way from it’s humble origins. I thought the studio had peaked with it’s exceptional looking Wall-E, but they’ve taken what they’ve learned there and applied it here. There is an especially technically beautiful looking scene in a landfill that made me comment out loud about how great looking the film is.
The voice acting is, as always, top-notch, and the franchise has attracted a plethora of stars for it’s third instalment. Tom Hanks and Tim Allen are back, along with John Ratzenberger, Don Rickles, Joan Cusack and the rest of the originals. Now, sprinkle in the likes of Timothy Dalton, Michael Keaton, Bonnie Hunt and Whoopie Goldberg, amongst many others, and you have a star-studded cast that make it feel like they’re doing voice over on TS3 for the joy, not the paycheque.
Another comment on the script is warranted, as it truly is a wonderful piece of writing. The characters are like old shirts that you find at the back of your dresser, slip on and feels right. Keeping in mind Toy Story debuted 15 years ago, the writing for each character maintains it’s ebb & flow through each film. Even with the gap, you could watch these films back to back and feel they were written all at once. Sharp wit and clever in-jokes reward the Pixar faithful, great sight gags and juvenile jokes take aim at the kids, and as to Pixars credit, there is enough ‘kids won’t get this adult humour’ that keep the adults as entertained as the kiddies. The writing, at the same time, may be the only part of the film that I have a minor complaint with, as the first half of the film wanes slightly. There feels like there is more set-up than needs to be, but the second half makes you forget that your mind may have wandered slightly during the first 45 minutes.
Toy Story 3 also manages to pull something off that even Avatar couldn’t, and that’s to use 3D to make a film beautiful, and support it with a good story. Avatar’s 3D wasn’t gimmicky, it was used as an immersion tool to further enhance the world we visited. But the story blew. TS3’s 3D is never gimmicky, it’s not used to throw things out at the audience, it simply is. It’s used to make the set’s more lush and engage us in the toys lives. This is when I DON’T mind 3D. Any film that is SHOT in 3D, to absorb us in the experience is alright. Post converted 3D, used to save a dying film *coughGREENHORNETcough* or up ticket prices is NOT GOOD. I’m not against 3D in films, but it has to be used in the proper way, and for the right reasons. I am ALL for 3D in video games though, but we’ll talk about that another time.
I was really worried going into Toy Story 3. Sequels to animated films are always a dangerous prospect. I liked Toy Story 2, but it lacked in the originals appeal for me. TS3 manages to be rich and appealing, it tugs at the heart-strings. It makes us laugh and gasp. It takes us all along on the last ride for this collection of characters that many of us watched first when we were young, and now may be introducing our own children too. It’s always sad to have to say goodbye to a good friend, but this is a friend that’s well worth re-visiting many times.
On June 20, 1975, the movies were changed forever. We became afraid to go in ocean, and we loved that fear. Like sharks crazed at a drop of blood in the sea, audiences furiously charged movie theaters in droves to witness Steven Spielberg’s thrilling Jaws, the story of Chief Brody vs. The Shark that terrorizes a small New England beach town.
Jaws is far more important than just a killer-animal movie. It’s masterful storytelling and filmmaking at its best, putting a then relatively unknown Spielberg on the map, launching his career into mega-stardom and ensuring we’d see such culturally important films like Raiders of the Lost Ark, E.T. The Extraterrestrial, Jurassic Park, Schindler’s List and Saving Private Ryan. Not only was the world’s most recognized director established, but the Hollywood summer blockbuster trend was born. A whole two years before Star Wars, let it be known. Jaws set into motion the seasonal climate for genre films and is the reason we get summers – not this one, sadly – where every Friday brings a new, action-filled, big-budget thriller to the theater. From 1978 and on, movie studios would base their yearly marketing strategy around the summer months (May – August, typically), with only the biggest feature falling closest to the fourth of July.
Breaking records is a common occurrence nowadays, but when Jaws hit screens in the summer of ‘77 Hollywood hadn’t yet seen those kinds of numbers. Being the first film to open nation-wide, on hundreds of screens across the country, Jaws saw record-breaking returns. With the number of screens showing the film increasing from 464 to 675, the film also became the largest distributed film of all time. People cite Star Wars as the film that took marketing and merchandising to a new level – which it certainly did – but Jaws was the film that started it all, with television spots hitting prime-time starting days before the release. The promotion for Jaws was akin to that of a great white shark attack: fast, from out of nowhere and impactful. For the following weeks since its release, Jaws continued to shatter box office records, becoming the first film to pass the $100 million mark. Though year after year, with huge franchise names and effects-laden films knocking Jaws further down on the all-time grossing list, none have had a fraction of the cultural significance of Spielberg’s classic. Today you’d be hard pressed to find someone of any age who doesn’t immediately recognize John William’s iconic ‘duh nuh… duh nuh’ score, or so perfectly quotable lines like “You’re gonna need a bigger boat”.
The film is more than its marketing, more than the first blockbuster or one summer’s perpetual fever. We can’t, after all, equate money with quality. But Jaws was different. With Jaws, you know when you’re watching it that you’re seeing a damn fine film, a film that was made with passion and with performance in mind. Nothing was slapped together or compromised. In a time where special effects were still rudimentary and relatively unexplored, the task of bringing to life a twenty-five foot man-eating shark was a daunting one, and Spielberg and his team knew it. While I still stand by the “rubber shark”, Spielberg understood his limitations and used them to the film’s advantage. He scared us senseless before we had even seen the damned thing. And when we finally do see the beast… well, you have one of the greatest film moments of all time. You can almost see Brody’s face turn white.
Which brings me to the performances in Jaws. Roy Scheider embodies the blue-collar leading man in Martin Brody. The town doesn’t understand him, he’s nearly driven mad by this shark, and he makes it all so believable. He is the center of the film and the perfect protagonist. Richard Dreyfuss, who later appeared in Spielberg’s Close Encounters of the Third Kind, nails the nervous side-kick with all the answers archetype, while bringing total originality to the role. If it weren’t for Robert Shaw, I would want to be Dreyfuss’ Hooper every time I step in a boat.
The real gem of the film is Quint, the rugged, seasoned seaman, the captain of the Orca and the man who leads Brody and Hooper in finding the shark for three, and catching and killing him for ten. If aliens were to come down to Earth and ask me to show them the greatest performance in existence, I very well might play them Quint’s monologue, or any of his scenes for that matter. Robert Shaw quite simply lived this character. The moment he scrapes his fingernails on the chalkboard at the Amity town hall meeting when we are introduced to the ship captain, the game changed. What started as a tale of terror and unknown and helplessness now became one of desperation and drive and man versus beast. Quint exists for one reason only, to live in the face of death. Death with black eyes and row after row of razor-sharp teeth. Quint exists to live off the land, doing as he sees fit, and when he stumbles upon this town, ravaged by a force they can’t even understand let alone control, he sees his opportunity to part the clouds, stand defiantly on the deck of his boat, rest his boot on the biggest killer in the sea and shout “fuck you”. Or at least die trying. You couldn’t replicate this kind of performance even if you tried.
The journey Jaws took to get to the screen wasn’t easy though. Between daily last-minute script polishing and troubles with the three mechanical sharks, the film found itself facing multiple delays. Universal, as any studio would, began to put the heat on the crew when the budget grew and the release date came closer. What started out as a $4 million film, apparently ended up costing $9 million. It all worked out in the end however, as the failing mechanical sharks pushed subtlety into the film, and the increasing delays allowed for a dynamite script. And, well, we know how it turned out for the studio and investors on the film and for the crowds in the theaters – what we received could very well be the perfect film.
Although Jaws would go on to spawn three sequels – the underwhelming Jaws 2, the horrible Jaws 3D and the downright ridiculous Jaws: The Revenge – the franchise would forever be known, and continue to be known for the first film, which shocked audiences and raised the bar for thrilling story-telling. Decade after decade, generation after generation, Jaws remains an untouchable classic and equally as memorable and recognizable.
The moment I first saw the film, on a big ‘ol rented VHS machine back in the early 80’s, I knew that Jaws would forever be at the top of my favorite movies of all time list. It’s just too good not to be.
Happy 35th birthday, Jaws.
TRIVIA
Peter Benchley, author of the novel the film is based on, wrote three drafts of the screenplay before detaching himself from the film. He does, however, appear in a cameo in the film, as a newspaper reporter.
The role of Chief Brody was originally offered to Robert Duvall. The actor was only interested in playing Quint, who had already been cast.
Spielberg originally wanted Jon Voight to play Hooper. Richard Dreyfuss initially passed on the role, before taking his crazy pills and realizing what a mistake that was.
The three mechanical sharks were named ‘Bruce’, after Spielberg’s lawyer. A fourth shark was created for Universal Studios Theme Park. Each shark required 14 technicians to operate it.
The film was famously shot at Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts.
Just how delayed was the film? The shoot was scheduled for 55 days and ended up taking 159.
The film won Academy Awards for Film Editing, Original Score and Sound, and received a nomination for BEst Picture – it lost to One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest.
Apparently, Robert Shaw and Richard Dreyfuss did not get along during production. That tension between them in the film? Slightly real…
When I heard Alexandre Aja was going full-retard and casting his net out on a 3D Piranha remake, he had me hook, line and sinker (*cue trumpet). I’ve been a big fan of Aja since Haute Tension and his remake of The Hills Have Eyes is one of the few superior horror retellings. The thing about Aja is that he gets gore in a way that we haven’t seen in a while, similar to Eli Roth (who coincidentally appears in Pirana 3D). So you would think a hard R-rated monster movie would be heaven for B-movie gore fans.
I’m not really a born comic geek. I’m a TV girl, and my love of comics started with DC Animation, namely, Batman The Animated Series. I can remember being so enthralled in the art and the drama of this cartoon, and I fell in love with Batman solely based on this series. When I’m reading comics, it’s Kevin Conroy who voices Bruce Wayne in my head.
When you think of movies for our generation, you would probably rattle off films like Clueless or tv shows like My So Called Life, but I never felt an affinity for them or connected to them at all. They just didn’t speak to me or about my life or where I’m coming from. Sure they are entertainment – yes, I like Clueless a great deal so what? – but the point of those films, to capture (or satire) an amount of cultural youth relevance, felt superfluous to me.
It’s so hard to watch Cop Out and not line up director Kevin Smith in the sights. The film is so painfully devoid of any real charm or interest or humor that someone must be accountable for it. And while Smith did not write the film – the first in his resume to wear that… badge? – Cop Out bares the eye-rolling, wince-inducing low-end guffaws we’ve become used to since Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back. I don’t mean to trash the filmmakers entire career since 2001 (I loved Clerks 2 and enjoyed Zack and Miri Make a Porno) as I classify myself as a “Kevin Smith fan”. I’ve attended two of his Evening With Kevin Smith performances, and highly recommend his weekly podcast, Smodcast. But there’s an underlying groan in his recent films that has continued to fester until reaching amputation status with Cop Out – Kevin Smith is a comedy director who is simply neither funny nor apt behind a camera.
Warehouse 13 is back on Tuesday nights on Syfy. I wasn’t impressed with the premiere at all, but the second episode was great nerd fun featuring Jewel Staite and Sean Maher, Firefly’s power couple of cuteness and awesome. What this show lacks in character depth, it makes up with neat gadgets and odes to steampunk. Word is there will be a Farnsworth Device replica at San Diego ComicCon this weekend. Neat.
Neil Adams is delivering a 12 part series entitled Batman Odyssey. I’m not sure what it’s about because as soon as someone uses the word ‘matrix’ in a plot description, I stop reading and go do something else. I picked up the first issue, and Adams’ drawing of Bruce Wayne is kind of hot. Sometimes Bruce gets a little too square-jawed for my liking, but he’s done perfectly in this series. There’s a lesson on how guns are wrong and how Batman should be a sleuth, and Bruce yells at Man-Bat, and there may or may not be a dinosaur bone bomb? There are 11 more issues. It may make sense at some point. There is a higher likelihood that it will not make any sense at all.
The Batman and Robin series continues to impress visually. Like really, if you’re a Joker fan, pick up issue 13 for the gorgeous yet disturbing cover alone. It saddens me that I know far too little about art to describe the techniques faithfully, but there are points were Robin reminds you of a little toy soldier nut-cracker doll (there’s a pun there, cause he’s gonna kick the Joker’s ass). I was worried about Frazer Irving’s art style, but he blended in the primary color simplicity of the series with some really messed up distorted imagery.
Philosophical question: is Bruce working his way back in time to set himself up to be the Batman? Or does the bat stuff bring Bruce back to his Batman-ness, so he can leave clues for Dick and Damian and the Justice League? What comes first, the bat or the Batman? Time travel makes me queasy.
As someone who writes about, and is simply in love with film, I watch a lot of movies. The keyword there being watch. I find myself immersed, to a degree, while I take everything in, the writer in me taking notes while the film fan in me enjoys the entertainment. Again, I watch a ton of movies. But rarely am I lost in one. Inception, Christopher Nolan’s finest film to date, had me forgetting I was in a movie theatre. I was simply mesmerized.
I love the original Predator. In my opinion it’s a damn near-perfect action-sci-fi film. Great cast, great action, great cat and mouse thriller, amazing score. It’s a ‘classic’. This then set up a universe, a mythos, or as studios like to call them, a franchise. Before you knew it, this franchise had built up comic books and video games and three more movies. But the thing is, most of it hasn’t been any good. While I remain a very vocal champion of the first sequel, Predator 2, has there really been anything Predator to sing about? Has anything really captured the essence of the Schwarzenegger film? Go watch the AVP films and then answer that… a resounding no.
The original Predator had great characters, all very memorable and they worked very well together. Schwarzenegger shed most of his on-screen goofiness at this point. Carl Weathers was a complete badass that would’ve whooped Apollo Creed in a minute. Jesse Ventura was a goddamn sexual tyrannosaurus. It was very much a team driven movie, even if they were wiped out, one by one. Predators takes the same approach, but nearly doubles the roster and spins the table around – they’re not soldiers this time, they’re more or less scum, and most of them don’t get along. This is where the film gets stretched a little thin. There are too many characters to care about and too little development. In Predator you have very strong, abrasive characters, yes, but they were people, fully fleshed and emotional. Predators really only features archetypes – the wimp, the crazy, the leader. There are strong performances indeed – Adrien Brody is a fantastic leading man and convincing badass, and Laurence Fishburne is a vibrant addition to the film – but overall, Predators lacks that connection to the human plight that made the first film so memorable.
Oh M. Night Shyamalan. I can’t think of another working filmmaker that’s had this many chances (Uwe Boll and Paul Anderson don’t count) and continues to disappoint. Though The Last Airbender – an adaptation of the celebrated animated series Avatar: The Last Airbender – isn’t nearly as bad as his 2008 cinematic abortion The Happening, there’s almost nothing to enjoy about this mish-mash of children’s movie and fantasy epic.
I love discovering gems. Accidentally finding something that makes me remember what it is to be in love with cinema. “Let The Right One In” falls so deeply and strangely in that category. This film moved me profoundly on so many levels of ‘cinephile’ that I’m still engrossed by the film this next morning as I write it’s review.![toystory3_poster_8[1]](http://www.giantkillersquid.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/toystory3_poster_81-202x300.jpg "toystory3_poster_8[1]")
Disney/Pixar’s Toy Story 3 is a film that not only caps an amazing and inventive trilogy effectively and emotionally, but it knocks on the door of perfection and begs to be let in.
And emotion the film has. Two moments in particular really stand out in my mind, one being the end of the film, which not only brings together the story perfectly, but also gives a salute to a trilogy that has come to define Pixar and animated films on a whole. The other is such a touching scene of desperation that to say any more would ruin it completely for you, so I’ll let you be surprised. The emotions the film invokes feel like a wonderful hug and a fond goodbye to characters we’ve come to love and laugh with as our inner child slowly grows to it’s inevitable adulthood.
Toy Story 3 also manages to pull something off that even Avatar couldn’t, and that’s to use 3D to make a film beautiful, and support it with a good story. Avatar’s 3D wasn’t gimmicky, it was used as an immersion tool to further enhance the world we visited. But the story blew. TS3’s 3D is never gimmicky, it’s not used to throw things out at the audience, it simply is. It’s used to make the set’s more lush and engage us in the toys lives. This is when I DON’T mind 3D. Any film that is SHOT in 3D, to absorb us in the experience is alright. Post converted 3D, used to save a dying film *coughGREENHORNETcough* or up ticket prices is NOT GOOD. I’m not against 3D in films, but it has to be used in the proper way, and for the right reasons. I am ALL for 3D in video games though, but we’ll talk about that another time.
On June 20, 1975, the movies were changed forever. We became afraid to go in ocean, and we loved that fear. Like sharks crazed at a drop of blood in the sea, audiences furiously charged movie theaters in droves to witness Steven Spielberg’s thrilling Jaws
Which brings me to the performances in Jaws. Roy Scheider embodies the blue-collar leading man in Martin Brody. The town doesn’t understand him, he’s nearly driven mad by this shark, and he makes it all so believable. He is the center of the film and the perfect protagonist. Richard Dreyfuss, who later appeared in Spielberg’s Close Encounters of the Third Kind, nails the nervous side-kick with all the answers archetype, while bringing total originality to the role. If it weren’t for Robert Shaw, I would want to be Dreyfuss’ Hooper every time I step in a boat.