The 1930s and 40s were a great time for film noir. This genre basically dealt with hardboiled men living in corrupt times and places, often corrupt themselves, the women who tempt them and the odds they face to even begin to do the right thing. It's not a genre that sees a lot of usage today. The most recent, popular example I can think of is 2005's Sin City, though that one comes across as more cartoon than anything else, even with the stylish flashes of color and the highly hardboiled dialogue spoken by, oh, every character onscreen. Perhaps there is simply too much trust in various institutions in this day and age, along with the predominance of the idea that most private detectives these days are hired to find evidence of adultery or something much less glamorous, and its no small wonder why this style of film seems to have disappeared.
Maybe this is why 1974's Chinatown works so well. First, the movie's private eye, Jake Gittes, specializes in the aforementioned divorce cases. Second, the time period puts it squarely about the time of the Watergate scandal forcing an American president to resign for the first and to date only time in our history, making it easier to believe our institutions might be corrupt. Third, even with all this, the movie is set in the same time period the best and best-remembered film noirs were produced, the 30s.
Chinatown is actually one of my favorite movies. The only movie I love more than Chinatown is the Japanese samurai/unsolved murder mystery Roshomon. It turns out my grandfather's favorite movie was The Maltese Falcon with Humphrey Bogart, so for all I know this is genetic (it probably isn't). But for all that at least one friend of mine can't watch this movie in light of both director Roman Polanski's personal scandals and the big reveal about Faye Dunaway's character near the end of the movie, I still find this a compelling film that holds up to mutliple viewings.
The movie opens with one poor, working class slob finding out his wife has been cheating on him, as he suspected. Had he not, he wouldn't have hired Jake "J.J." Gittes to look into it. From the second Gittes, played to perfection by Jack Nicholson back in the days when he didn't just ham it up onscreen most of the time, enters the frame and begins talking he pretty much never leaves our sight for more than a few seconds at a time. Even when we don't see him, he's just off-frame somewhere. This accomplishes something for the audience worth noting: the first time viewer only ever knows as much as Gittes does at any given moment in the movie. The clues come out, slowly and surely, parceled out bit-by-bit as needed.
And what a mystery! Two, actually. The more obvious one is who killed the honest water company engineer, and former owner, Hollis Mulwray. The second, tied to it, is who was the young girl Hollis was hanging out with, and why do so many people seem so interested in her.
The answers point to the standard for noir films: corruption in the higher ranks of society. Dishonest cops on the take are one thing. Downright evil public works executives, who apparently can never have enough money, are something else.
The Chinatown of the title barely features in the movie. Instead, the place is more symbolic, a place where corruption happens and there isn't anything an honest person can do about it. It's the reason Gittes went from being a cop to a private eye. Gittes, unlike Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon, actually is a moral person, and his righteous indignation can only be calmed with an associate's reminder of where he is when the climactic showdown goes down. Like any good noir, good doesn't really triumph here. The best any noir hero can hope for is for a slight improvement in the world around him, and Chinatown doesn't even offer that much.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Hugo (2011)
CGI is, above all else, a tool. Overuse it, or use it the wrong way, and it can affect your movie in only a negative way. Use it correctly, and there's even a chance your audience won't even notice it's been done. Sometimes, this particular tool has been used to create entire worlds from scratch, which no doubt save filmmakers money in trying to recreate sets. Done right, this worldbuilding can be incredibly impressive and dazzling. George Lucas has perhaps been the most famous of moviemakers to take advantage of this technology, with the various Star Wars prequels showcasing vast alien landscapes instead of more remote parts of Tunisia or Norway filling in for various planets.
Why then did I feel the opening few minutes of Martin Scorsese's 2011 movie Hugo far outstripped anything Lucas' production company has ever done along those lines? Especially since all Scorsese was trying to do was recreate 1920s Paris?
Possibly because audiences don't expect this sort of razzle-dazzle from the man who directed gritty movies like Taxi Driver and Raging Bull, or even more recent, fairly low-tech all-told features like The Departed and Shutter Island. There probably has been some CGI in a few of Scorsese's films, but nothing on the scale of the zooming around of the Paris train station that opens what would be Scorsese's foray into family films.
It's more than that, of course. The story of a young orphan boy, living in the train station and keeping the clocks running and happens to find former magician/filmmaker Georges Melies reduced to near poverty selling wind-up toys out of the station isn't the sort of thing that attracts the kids these days. Maybe if a few of those automatons talked, but even the robo-man Hugo's been trying to rebuild only draws a very elaborate picture. This movie is a celebration of the movies, what they do for people and the wonder that can come from just being transported to another world. This is a movie where the closest we have to a villain is Sacha Baron Cohen's nameless station inspector, and even he is painted in a sympathetic way with his creaky knee brace and unrequited love for a flower vendor.
The main plot has Hugo trying to repair a robot his clockmaker father brought home one day. His father (Jude Law) died suddenly in a fire, and Hugo was more or less adopted and subsequently abandoned by his drunken uncle (Ray Winstone). An orphan like himself would probably be sent away to an orphanage, and the station inspector is the kind of guy who will bust an orphan for going through a discarded bag looking for food, so he stays hidden and lets people think Uncle Claude is still running the clocks despite the fact the man's been gone for a very long time. He sees the toymaker from afar, and swipes little bits and pieces until he's caught, then does what he needs to to get his father's notebook back from the man he doesn't know is responsible for many a silent movie classic. Indeed, Hugo loves the movies and introduces the man's niece to them while rhapsodizing about his father's favorite, the famous Melies feature in which the man in the moon gets a rocket to the eye.
Will Hugo fix the machine, realize his new boss is the long-since-believed dead Melies, re-inspire the man, get out of poverty, and land on his feet? Of course he will. That's not the point, though. It's the journey in movies like this, not the destination.
A special note on Cohen's French policeman: as with here and his role in Talladega Nights: The Legend of Ricky Bobby, he has a very nice way of doing a comedic French accent, on par with the one the late Peter Sellers had used as Inspector Clouseau. It's a bit of a shame the makers of the remake of that series didn't hire him instead of Steve Martin, a funny man in his own right, but not in the way Cohen inhabits his various foreign caricatures.
Why then did I feel the opening few minutes of Martin Scorsese's 2011 movie Hugo far outstripped anything Lucas' production company has ever done along those lines? Especially since all Scorsese was trying to do was recreate 1920s Paris?
Possibly because audiences don't expect this sort of razzle-dazzle from the man who directed gritty movies like Taxi Driver and Raging Bull, or even more recent, fairly low-tech all-told features like The Departed and Shutter Island. There probably has been some CGI in a few of Scorsese's films, but nothing on the scale of the zooming around of the Paris train station that opens what would be Scorsese's foray into family films.
It's more than that, of course. The story of a young orphan boy, living in the train station and keeping the clocks running and happens to find former magician/filmmaker Georges Melies reduced to near poverty selling wind-up toys out of the station isn't the sort of thing that attracts the kids these days. Maybe if a few of those automatons talked, but even the robo-man Hugo's been trying to rebuild only draws a very elaborate picture. This movie is a celebration of the movies, what they do for people and the wonder that can come from just being transported to another world. This is a movie where the closest we have to a villain is Sacha Baron Cohen's nameless station inspector, and even he is painted in a sympathetic way with his creaky knee brace and unrequited love for a flower vendor.
The main plot has Hugo trying to repair a robot his clockmaker father brought home one day. His father (Jude Law) died suddenly in a fire, and Hugo was more or less adopted and subsequently abandoned by his drunken uncle (Ray Winstone). An orphan like himself would probably be sent away to an orphanage, and the station inspector is the kind of guy who will bust an orphan for going through a discarded bag looking for food, so he stays hidden and lets people think Uncle Claude is still running the clocks despite the fact the man's been gone for a very long time. He sees the toymaker from afar, and swipes little bits and pieces until he's caught, then does what he needs to to get his father's notebook back from the man he doesn't know is responsible for many a silent movie classic. Indeed, Hugo loves the movies and introduces the man's niece to them while rhapsodizing about his father's favorite, the famous Melies feature in which the man in the moon gets a rocket to the eye.
Will Hugo fix the machine, realize his new boss is the long-since-believed dead Melies, re-inspire the man, get out of poverty, and land on his feet? Of course he will. That's not the point, though. It's the journey in movies like this, not the destination.
A special note on Cohen's French policeman: as with here and his role in Talladega Nights: The Legend of Ricky Bobby, he has a very nice way of doing a comedic French accent, on par with the one the late Peter Sellers had used as Inspector Clouseau. It's a bit of a shame the makers of the remake of that series didn't hire him instead of Steve Martin, a funny man in his own right, but not in the way Cohen inhabits his various foreign caricatures.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Almost Famous (2000)
Writer/director Cameron Crowe has a long, personal history with Rolling Stone magazine. He worked there as a teenager before deciding to strike out on his own, going undercover as a high school student, and later writing the book that would become the basis for the movie Fast Times at Ridgemont High, featuring a script by Crowe. Crowe's affections for that time in his life, and the music he covered, is highly evident in his 2000 film Almost Famous.
Almost Famous tells the semi-autobiographical story of William Miller, a 15 year-old writing prodigy who manages to get a job over the phone for Rolling Stone. His initial job, getting an interview from Black Sabbath, fails miserably, but he manages to get in to see the opening act, up-and-coming band Stillwater, thanks to help from a few groupies who call themselves "Band-Aids". The "leader" of these girls, played by Kate Hudson in what may be her best role to date, goes by the name Penny Lane and has a special attraction to Stillwater's lead guitarist, Russell Hammond (played by Bill Crudup). William, as played by newcomer Patrick Fugit, seems to bond with Penny too, and she may be looking out for him more than anyone else on the tour, though not as much as she is fooling around with the very spoken-for Russell.
Crowe's script created Stillwater as a composite of many of the various bands he used to cover, so the pressures to perform and the pleasures of the flesh all seem to be most of what the band wants. Petty jealousy from the lead singer (Jason Lee) clashes with the aloofness of Russell on more than one occasion, as drinks and drugs are consumed and the Band-Aids are used as unknowing chips in various poker games. There's still a great love for the music itself, as William tries to stay out of whatever is going on (mostly successfully), something that would have been a great relief to his overbearing mother (Frances McDormand) who is both a prude and a forward-thinker at the same time (she thinks Christmas is too commercialized and pushes her son to excellence and her daughter out the door, but still thinks rock music is all about drugs and sex). It's this outsider, forever getting his interviews with Russell put off, who can see that Penny Lane is an actual person, can lecture the band on its failings to its own fans, and come out of the whole experience somehow making all involved better people, and not in a way that comes across as corny or contrived.
Early in the movie, William meets real-life figure Lester Bangs, as played by Philip Seymour Hoffman. Lester takes the role of a professional guardian angel, always advising William on how to keep ahead of his deadlines and keep his Rolling Stone editors happy, all while not letting those self-same editors know he's a juvenile. Lester predicts that rock'n'roll is a dying form of music. He may be right on that. Glam rock, disco, hair metal, and the rise of pop are all on the horizon for the fans like William and the bands like Stillwater. As such, its very nice to be able to see the (minor all told) warts-and-all story from the days where rock was the music of the young as seen through the eyes of someone who saw it up close.
Almost Famous tells the semi-autobiographical story of William Miller, a 15 year-old writing prodigy who manages to get a job over the phone for Rolling Stone. His initial job, getting an interview from Black Sabbath, fails miserably, but he manages to get in to see the opening act, up-and-coming band Stillwater, thanks to help from a few groupies who call themselves "Band-Aids". The "leader" of these girls, played by Kate Hudson in what may be her best role to date, goes by the name Penny Lane and has a special attraction to Stillwater's lead guitarist, Russell Hammond (played by Bill Crudup). William, as played by newcomer Patrick Fugit, seems to bond with Penny too, and she may be looking out for him more than anyone else on the tour, though not as much as she is fooling around with the very spoken-for Russell.
Crowe's script created Stillwater as a composite of many of the various bands he used to cover, so the pressures to perform and the pleasures of the flesh all seem to be most of what the band wants. Petty jealousy from the lead singer (Jason Lee) clashes with the aloofness of Russell on more than one occasion, as drinks and drugs are consumed and the Band-Aids are used as unknowing chips in various poker games. There's still a great love for the music itself, as William tries to stay out of whatever is going on (mostly successfully), something that would have been a great relief to his overbearing mother (Frances McDormand) who is both a prude and a forward-thinker at the same time (she thinks Christmas is too commercialized and pushes her son to excellence and her daughter out the door, but still thinks rock music is all about drugs and sex). It's this outsider, forever getting his interviews with Russell put off, who can see that Penny Lane is an actual person, can lecture the band on its failings to its own fans, and come out of the whole experience somehow making all involved better people, and not in a way that comes across as corny or contrived.
Early in the movie, William meets real-life figure Lester Bangs, as played by Philip Seymour Hoffman. Lester takes the role of a professional guardian angel, always advising William on how to keep ahead of his deadlines and keep his Rolling Stone editors happy, all while not letting those self-same editors know he's a juvenile. Lester predicts that rock'n'roll is a dying form of music. He may be right on that. Glam rock, disco, hair metal, and the rise of pop are all on the horizon for the fans like William and the bands like Stillwater. As such, its very nice to be able to see the (minor all told) warts-and-all story from the days where rock was the music of the young as seen through the eyes of someone who saw it up close.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Trading Places (1983)
Once upon a time, back in the 80s, movie producers could make an R-rated comedy. At some point, film comedies became a lot more castrated, even the sex romps. Judd Apatow has made some in-roads towards reclaiming comedies with actual vulgar jokes that are really vulgar, but even he has some limits he can't cross. I was thinking about this when I caught 1983's Trading Places on HBO last week.
This was a movie featuring two former Saturday Night Live castmembers, though neither were members of the cast at the same time, and the one who got top billing was Dan Aykroyd. These days, Aykroyd is mostly trying to get a third Ghostbusters made without Bill Murray and taking supporting roles in other comedies. His last starring role was as the title character in Yogi Bear and then it was only his voice.
The other fellow was a young Eddie Murphy. Murphy still gets the starring roles, more so than Aykroyd does, but his parts are a lot more family friendly since he donned multiple fat suits for The Nutty Professor.
The basic plot is simple: two greedy billionaire brothers, the Dukes, make a bet over whether nature or nurture determines whether or not someone will be a criminal or not. Randolph (played by the late Ralph Bellamy) believes nature does it. His brother Mortimer (played by the late Don Ameche) doesn't seem to care much, but ruining people's lives seems to be beyond the consideration of either man. They opt to take a young stockbroker that works for them, Louis Winthrope III (Aykroyd), make him destitute without a home or friends, and bring in a street hustler that was begging on the streets while pretending to be a legless Vietnam vet, Billy Ray Vallentine (Murphy).
The bet is "the usual" (which turns out to be a dollar) and it turns out when a rich guy loses everything and a poor guy gains it, well, they do switch places in every way. But the tables get turned when Vallentine overhears the brothers settling their bet, learn that both he and Louis won't be coming back to the firm, and further, one of the Dukes drops a certain N-word about Vallentine. See, that N-word is something that doesn't appear in too many comedies these days either.
There's a team-up then between Louis and Vallentine, along with helpful butler Denholm Elliott and really helpful prostitue Jamie Lee Curtis. Why they need to dress up and pretend to be foreigners I am not sure, but this does afford us the sight of Aykroyd in blackface pretending to be Jamaican. That's one last thing you don't see much anywhere these days.
Despite cameos by Frank Oz, James Belushi, future senator Al Franken, and Franken partner Tom Davis, plus a gorilla, I don't really get into this one all that much. Truth be told, I much prefer Murphy and director John Landis' Coming to America which, as a bonus, gives us a cameo by the Duke brothers getting their fortunes back in the most happenstance of ways.
This was a movie featuring two former Saturday Night Live castmembers, though neither were members of the cast at the same time, and the one who got top billing was Dan Aykroyd. These days, Aykroyd is mostly trying to get a third Ghostbusters made without Bill Murray and taking supporting roles in other comedies. His last starring role was as the title character in Yogi Bear and then it was only his voice.
The other fellow was a young Eddie Murphy. Murphy still gets the starring roles, more so than Aykroyd does, but his parts are a lot more family friendly since he donned multiple fat suits for The Nutty Professor.
The basic plot is simple: two greedy billionaire brothers, the Dukes, make a bet over whether nature or nurture determines whether or not someone will be a criminal or not. Randolph (played by the late Ralph Bellamy) believes nature does it. His brother Mortimer (played by the late Don Ameche) doesn't seem to care much, but ruining people's lives seems to be beyond the consideration of either man. They opt to take a young stockbroker that works for them, Louis Winthrope III (Aykroyd), make him destitute without a home or friends, and bring in a street hustler that was begging on the streets while pretending to be a legless Vietnam vet, Billy Ray Vallentine (Murphy).
The bet is "the usual" (which turns out to be a dollar) and it turns out when a rich guy loses everything and a poor guy gains it, well, they do switch places in every way. But the tables get turned when Vallentine overhears the brothers settling their bet, learn that both he and Louis won't be coming back to the firm, and further, one of the Dukes drops a certain N-word about Vallentine. See, that N-word is something that doesn't appear in too many comedies these days either.
There's a team-up then between Louis and Vallentine, along with helpful butler Denholm Elliott and really helpful prostitue Jamie Lee Curtis. Why they need to dress up and pretend to be foreigners I am not sure, but this does afford us the sight of Aykroyd in blackface pretending to be Jamaican. That's one last thing you don't see much anywhere these days.
Despite cameos by Frank Oz, James Belushi, future senator Al Franken, and Franken partner Tom Davis, plus a gorilla, I don't really get into this one all that much. Truth be told, I much prefer Murphy and director John Landis' Coming to America which, as a bonus, gives us a cameo by the Duke brothers getting their fortunes back in the most happenstance of ways.
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Toy Story (1995)
In 1995, the concept of a feature-length computer-animated feature was probably about as likely to audiences as a feature-length hand-drawn animated feature was in 1937. In 1937, Walt Disney premiered Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. In 1995, Disney and Pixar produced Toy Story.
Toy Story in many ways established the Pixar brand. The cast was made up primarily of actors with distinct voices and personalities, not huge name marquee celebrities. Yes, there was Tom Hanks as Woody, but after him was Tim Allen, still mainly the star of TV's Home Improvement and whose film credits were largely limited to the starring role in The Santa Clause from the year before. After that is a series of actors with distinct voices but none of which seemed likely to open a movie all by him or herself: Don Rickles, soon-to-be Pixar regular John Ratzenberger, Annie Potts, R. Lee Ermey, Wallace Shawn, and Jim Varney. Varney had been the main star for a film series, but was probably better known as the character of Ernest P. Worrel than by his own name. The voices were all distinct and well-chosen for each of their required roles.
Likewise, despite the appeal of good animation, the story came first. The core concept of what life is like for a child's playthings, toys that are eventually outgrown, and how they might feel about that, is explored as well as could be (a theme that would continue for each of the sequels too as the child/owner continues to get older and the toys fret about being lost or never played with again). There is, as should be expected of Pixar, a moment when a character reaches the lowest low, though here Buzz Lightyear realizing he really doesn't fly isn't anywhere on the caliber of, say, an old man's heartbreak in the opening minutes of Up. The characters emerge fully formed in a single movie, with Woody being at first jealous but basically a good soul, Buzz being confused about what he actually is, and the antagonistic, Rickles-voiced Mr. Potato Head causing problems and leading the other toys, including loyal Slinky Dog and besmitted Little Bo Peep, away from Woody when he needs them the most. Of course Woody and Buzz end the movie the best of friends, but that's to be expected.
That said, like a good TV series trying to figure itself out in the early episodes, this first Pixar movie can be a bit of a shock when it is compared to anything the studio has put out the last few years. The details to Merida's frizzy hair, the vast view of space from WALL-E, or even the marionette show Woody watches of himself in Toy Story 2 are still not in the technological cards yet. Movie villains Sid and his dog Scud look rather bad, and backgrounds look flat in comparison to what's to come. There's still some great details, like Buzz seeing his own reflection as he looks around Andy's room for the first time, but the studio will do better with its future features.
Plus, truth be told, the film pulls out a few too many Randy Newman songs.
All in all, the movie holds up rather well, establishes the quality and voice of the Pixar brand, and manages to make the view care what a cowboy doll and a space man action figure are going through. Not a bad accomplishment for any first time studio.
Toy Story in many ways established the Pixar brand. The cast was made up primarily of actors with distinct voices and personalities, not huge name marquee celebrities. Yes, there was Tom Hanks as Woody, but after him was Tim Allen, still mainly the star of TV's Home Improvement and whose film credits were largely limited to the starring role in The Santa Clause from the year before. After that is a series of actors with distinct voices but none of which seemed likely to open a movie all by him or herself: Don Rickles, soon-to-be Pixar regular John Ratzenberger, Annie Potts, R. Lee Ermey, Wallace Shawn, and Jim Varney. Varney had been the main star for a film series, but was probably better known as the character of Ernest P. Worrel than by his own name. The voices were all distinct and well-chosen for each of their required roles.
Likewise, despite the appeal of good animation, the story came first. The core concept of what life is like for a child's playthings, toys that are eventually outgrown, and how they might feel about that, is explored as well as could be (a theme that would continue for each of the sequels too as the child/owner continues to get older and the toys fret about being lost or never played with again). There is, as should be expected of Pixar, a moment when a character reaches the lowest low, though here Buzz Lightyear realizing he really doesn't fly isn't anywhere on the caliber of, say, an old man's heartbreak in the opening minutes of Up. The characters emerge fully formed in a single movie, with Woody being at first jealous but basically a good soul, Buzz being confused about what he actually is, and the antagonistic, Rickles-voiced Mr. Potato Head causing problems and leading the other toys, including loyal Slinky Dog and besmitted Little Bo Peep, away from Woody when he needs them the most. Of course Woody and Buzz end the movie the best of friends, but that's to be expected.
That said, like a good TV series trying to figure itself out in the early episodes, this first Pixar movie can be a bit of a shock when it is compared to anything the studio has put out the last few years. The details to Merida's frizzy hair, the vast view of space from WALL-E, or even the marionette show Woody watches of himself in Toy Story 2 are still not in the technological cards yet. Movie villains Sid and his dog Scud look rather bad, and backgrounds look flat in comparison to what's to come. There's still some great details, like Buzz seeing his own reflection as he looks around Andy's room for the first time, but the studio will do better with its future features.
Plus, truth be told, the film pulls out a few too many Randy Newman songs.
All in all, the movie holds up rather well, establishes the quality and voice of the Pixar brand, and manages to make the view care what a cowboy doll and a space man action figure are going through. Not a bad accomplishment for any first time studio.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
The Amazing Spider-Man (2012)
In my last entry, I mentioned how Marvel Films required studios that bought the film rights to various characters to continue making movies with said characters or else lose the rights to said characters. This is the basic explanation for why the reboot The Amazing Spider-Man exists at all. Efforts to get another trilogy or so out of director Sam Raimi and star Tobey Maguire fell flat so in order to keep the cash cow that is the webslinger, Sony just went for a reboot.
All in all, it isn't a bad movie. It just feels somewhat pointless. Director Marc Webb, new to the genre and not at all named ironically, does a fair job, and new Spider-Man Andrew Garfield does bring both the manic energy of Spider-Man and the lowkey nerdiness of Peter Parker out well. He also looks more like a movie high school student despite being in his mid-twenties. Emma Stone takes over the role her castmate from The Help Bryce Dallas Howard played in the previous series of Gwen Stacy, and we get another take on the Spider-Man origin, complete with a villain Raimi hinted at with brief cameos but never let go full evil, Dr. Curt "The Lizard" Connors.
As always, the true challenge is to make a movie, so close in time to the last Spider-Man film, seem like it is different and unique enough to justify itself to anyone besides a Sony Pictures beancounter. Webb's take is to give us a younger Spider-Man with some kind of corporate espionage backstory. We get to see his parents before he is hustled off to his Aunt May and Uncle Ben's. Then they die in a mysterious plane crash that eventually leads Peter to look up his dad's old partner, Curt Connors (played by Rhys Ifans).
As his aunt and uncle, Sally Field seems largely wasted. She seems to have maybe four or five scenes and while she isn't the frail version as seen by Rosemary Harris, she isn't given much to do besides look upset. Martin Sheen as Uncle Ben seems to be coasting a bit. He does OK, I suppose, but I was never convinced he was the guy who made Peter feel the need to act after he gets shot.
For all that, there is a scene where Spider-Man catches a car thief that I think got more about Spider-Man than any of the other movies. The irreverent clown Spider-Man has been largely absent from the movies, and Garfield seems to be genuinely funny in the role.
A sequel is apparently already in the works, with a teaser at the end with a mysterious man (probably Norman Osbourne) confronting the imprisoned Connors who implores the man to leave Peter alone. We all know that won't happen. The only question is whether or not audiences will do the same.
All in all, it isn't a bad movie. It just feels somewhat pointless. Director Marc Webb, new to the genre and not at all named ironically, does a fair job, and new Spider-Man Andrew Garfield does bring both the manic energy of Spider-Man and the lowkey nerdiness of Peter Parker out well. He also looks more like a movie high school student despite being in his mid-twenties. Emma Stone takes over the role her castmate from The Help Bryce Dallas Howard played in the previous series of Gwen Stacy, and we get another take on the Spider-Man origin, complete with a villain Raimi hinted at with brief cameos but never let go full evil, Dr. Curt "The Lizard" Connors.
As always, the true challenge is to make a movie, so close in time to the last Spider-Man film, seem like it is different and unique enough to justify itself to anyone besides a Sony Pictures beancounter. Webb's take is to give us a younger Spider-Man with some kind of corporate espionage backstory. We get to see his parents before he is hustled off to his Aunt May and Uncle Ben's. Then they die in a mysterious plane crash that eventually leads Peter to look up his dad's old partner, Curt Connors (played by Rhys Ifans).
As his aunt and uncle, Sally Field seems largely wasted. She seems to have maybe four or five scenes and while she isn't the frail version as seen by Rosemary Harris, she isn't given much to do besides look upset. Martin Sheen as Uncle Ben seems to be coasting a bit. He does OK, I suppose, but I was never convinced he was the guy who made Peter feel the need to act after he gets shot.
For all that, there is a scene where Spider-Man catches a car thief that I think got more about Spider-Man than any of the other movies. The irreverent clown Spider-Man has been largely absent from the movies, and Garfield seems to be genuinely funny in the role.
A sequel is apparently already in the works, with a teaser at the end with a mysterious man (probably Norman Osbourne) confronting the imprisoned Connors who implores the man to leave Peter alone. We all know that won't happen. The only question is whether or not audiences will do the same.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
The Avengers (2012)
Marvel Comics slowly worked its way into the film world. While superheroes had appeared in the movies for many years, most were limited by special effects technology being unable to completely translate the four color medium from pulp page to silver screen. There was a big screen Superman, a Batman, and a few TV shows, including Marvel's own Hulk as played by a bodybuilder painted green.
Initially, Marvel licensed its characters out to various studios under contracts requiring regular sequels in order for the studios to retain the rights, as well as keeping popular characters like Spider-Man and the X-Men in the public eye. Eventually, Marvel Films managed to work out a deal to produce their own films, and started with second stringer Iron Man getting his own movie in 2008. Making the Golden Avenger a household name and revitalizing the career of a could-not-have-been-cast better Robert Downey Jr. was, it turned out, only the first step towards what was probably the biggest movie of 2012, The Avengers.
What is perhaps most amazing is that somehow this plan worked. Introducing different characters in different films over the course of four years, with even the worst of the bunch (The Incredible Hulk starring Edward Norton) being for me highly watchable and a good bit of fun, with little or no connecting material aside from Samuel L. Jackson's Nick Fury popping in for a scene or two, The Avengers had the potential to be a godawful mess. This was a movie that pondered that an egotistical inventor, viking demigod, timelost soldier, femme fatale superspy, master marksman with a bow, and an unstoppable rage monster would somehow belong all in the same movie to stop a guy whose main superpower may be incredibly effective lying. It could have been terrible.
It wasn't.
For one thing, Marvel and new owner Disney brought in a highly talented cast and director. Of the actors playing the main team, most had appeared however briefly in previous films, with Mark Ruffalo replacing the reputed hard-to-work-with Edward Norton as Bruce Banner. Downey, Jackson, Ruffalo, and Jeremy Renner (as marksman Hawkeye) all had Oscar nominations for past work, with Scarlett Johansson (the Black Widow) and Tom Hiddleston (as the villain Loki) both showing potential to go their if they play their careers right. Even the two Chrises, Evans and Hemsworth, as Captain America and Thor respectively, acquit themselves well for roles that would be very easy to get wrong by being too bland (for Cap) or too overtly ridiculous (for Thor).
On the other side of the camera was cult favorite writer/director Joss Whedon. I'm not really a fan of his, having never gotten into Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but he knows how to write humorous dialogue for characters beloved by geeks, as well as how to create the right balance of action and drama. Yes, the early scenes seem more rote, but by the time the team is assembled on the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier and interacting, the chemistry comes out. Just about every character gets some time to shine, including one created for the movies, S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Phil Coulson, played by Clark Gregg, who gives the bridging between movies a more personable touch. The only character who maybe gets shafted, no pun intended, is Renner's Hawkeye, who spends most of the movie brainwashed.
The final battle, between Loki and his alien army, and the newly reunited Avengers, now with a good reason to go by that name, is probably the grand spectacle every superhero fan, with widescale destruction, creative use of superpowers, and lots of anonymous creeps getting slammed, with one long tracking shot following the heroes as they zip around the fight doing what they do best. As expected, the team seems to be losing until some last ditch heroics, sparked by character growth (Iron Man learning to be less selfish and willing to sacrifice himself for something much bigger than himself and his company) save the day.
Marvel has referred to this movie as the end of "Phase One". If this is the first part, and it ends this big, the obvious anticipation will surely have people like me lined up for more in the near future.
Initially, Marvel licensed its characters out to various studios under contracts requiring regular sequels in order for the studios to retain the rights, as well as keeping popular characters like Spider-Man and the X-Men in the public eye. Eventually, Marvel Films managed to work out a deal to produce their own films, and started with second stringer Iron Man getting his own movie in 2008. Making the Golden Avenger a household name and revitalizing the career of a could-not-have-been-cast better Robert Downey Jr. was, it turned out, only the first step towards what was probably the biggest movie of 2012, The Avengers.
What is perhaps most amazing is that somehow this plan worked. Introducing different characters in different films over the course of four years, with even the worst of the bunch (The Incredible Hulk starring Edward Norton) being for me highly watchable and a good bit of fun, with little or no connecting material aside from Samuel L. Jackson's Nick Fury popping in for a scene or two, The Avengers had the potential to be a godawful mess. This was a movie that pondered that an egotistical inventor, viking demigod, timelost soldier, femme fatale superspy, master marksman with a bow, and an unstoppable rage monster would somehow belong all in the same movie to stop a guy whose main superpower may be incredibly effective lying. It could have been terrible.
It wasn't.
For one thing, Marvel and new owner Disney brought in a highly talented cast and director. Of the actors playing the main team, most had appeared however briefly in previous films, with Mark Ruffalo replacing the reputed hard-to-work-with Edward Norton as Bruce Banner. Downey, Jackson, Ruffalo, and Jeremy Renner (as marksman Hawkeye) all had Oscar nominations for past work, with Scarlett Johansson (the Black Widow) and Tom Hiddleston (as the villain Loki) both showing potential to go their if they play their careers right. Even the two Chrises, Evans and Hemsworth, as Captain America and Thor respectively, acquit themselves well for roles that would be very easy to get wrong by being too bland (for Cap) or too overtly ridiculous (for Thor).
On the other side of the camera was cult favorite writer/director Joss Whedon. I'm not really a fan of his, having never gotten into Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but he knows how to write humorous dialogue for characters beloved by geeks, as well as how to create the right balance of action and drama. Yes, the early scenes seem more rote, but by the time the team is assembled on the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier and interacting, the chemistry comes out. Just about every character gets some time to shine, including one created for the movies, S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Phil Coulson, played by Clark Gregg, who gives the bridging between movies a more personable touch. The only character who maybe gets shafted, no pun intended, is Renner's Hawkeye, who spends most of the movie brainwashed.
The final battle, between Loki and his alien army, and the newly reunited Avengers, now with a good reason to go by that name, is probably the grand spectacle every superhero fan, with widescale destruction, creative use of superpowers, and lots of anonymous creeps getting slammed, with one long tracking shot following the heroes as they zip around the fight doing what they do best. As expected, the team seems to be losing until some last ditch heroics, sparked by character growth (Iron Man learning to be less selfish and willing to sacrifice himself for something much bigger than himself and his company) save the day.
Marvel has referred to this movie as the end of "Phase One". If this is the first part, and it ends this big, the obvious anticipation will surely have people like me lined up for more in the near future.
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