Reviews

Elysium has such an intriguing concept, I went into the film very eager and excited for Blomkamp's follow-up to District 9, thinking he'd overcome his flaws. But after viewing Elysium, I've come to the conclusion he needs a writing partner.

This film takes place in 2154 after a prologue establishing the wealthy have fled the now overpopulated and polluted Earth in favor of a space-retreat called Elysium. Earth citizens try their best to ensure passage to Elysium on the black market, but they never succeed thanks to Jodie Foster's Secretary of Defense, Delacourt. These people, it establishes quickly, want access to the medical technology held on Elysium (early in the film a mother cures her daughter of her severe fractures in one of these pods). Think now on how neat a concept it is: the Earth has become a slum and their put all of their effort to MAYBE be healed on Elysium. Getting up and being in perfect health for the few minutes is enough for them. All political implications aside, Blomkamp has thought up a hell of a dystopia. Earth is no less interesting, however he never follows up on either of these.

What I enjoyed about District 9 was how immersed we became with the prawn slum, and how unconventionally we became so. Elysium lacks this. It's very much a straight shot, cause-and- effect plot. It's very much amateur writing. Elysium lacks any trace of dramatic irony, though I noticed multiple instances where it would be necessary, and also any sort of character development (jodie Foster seemed to exist only as a catalyst for the plot).

The story follows Max (Matt Damon, who does a very good job adding certain depth to an otherwise listless character), as he is exposed to a lethal dose of radiation. This starts the ball rolling on him getting to Elysium to be healed. He agrees to pull off a dangerous mission in order to secure unauthorized space passage, but he finds himself in more of a jam when he becomes the only cerebral carrier of a program to overthrow Elysium's government. SOmewhere along the way he meets childhood friend, Frey, but she doesn't add much. She just confuses the plot, since their history is never told, nor is she at all developed.

Where the film shines is in its visual direction, both cinematography and action. Elysium had a much better reason for its action occurring than District 9, but it also planned out its action better. Since Max was suffering from severe radiation poisoning, he was given an exoskeleton to keep him fit as a fiddle (you'll need to suspend your disbelief for much of this) and he ended up taking on the wonderful villain, Kruger. This leads to many fight scenes. However, Blomkamp would splice random shots of slow-motion to add structure to the action so you never really feel lost, though you may still get sort of dizzy. He also had some neat camera tricks where he would twist the angle mid-scene so the action did not get as boring. I also enjoyed how Max and Kruger's fights were more battle-of-wits than just duking it out. Max learned from his prior mistakes in fighting against Kruger.

This is, above all else, a very entertaining film. Blomkamp (from whom I expect much more in the future) kept the plot concise and the cinematography and special effects are absolutely beautiful. It's easy to follow and its political implications are smart and relevant. Don't expect any surprises, but it does pretty well at making what you expect fun to watch. It's just a good summer flick.

This is a basic comic book film handled with style and finesse in the hands of Joss Whedon. I've always been a fan of his, and I'm glad to see he finally got his chance to shine on. The premise of the film is Loki, brother of Thor, steals the Tesseract, from last summer's "Captain America" and uses it to unleash his own army upon the world, and claim it as his Kingdom. However, this is the weakest point in the film. In reaction to these events, Nick Fury calls upon his most wonderful of agents, and assembles them, somewhat, to deal with this. Here is where Joss Whedon shines. He is a man who knows characters, and has a skill for witty and well-placed dialog, but also of great vision. He understands the ego of all those involved, and plays them off of one another, including a fantastic scene of Iron Man and Thor going toe to toe for the sole sake of their arrogance. Captain America stands as the voice of reason, but his naivety is blatant; his was a simpler time. Black Widow stands in the background as a seminal character, but obviously one unused to the limelight. Hulk, played perfectly by Mark Ruffalo, is the humble doctor, always subdued for the sake of safety. These are people who are used to having the spotlight their own, and so they must learn to play well with others, but it isn't until the death of Phil Coulson do they realize the necessity to their alliance, which Joss Whedon displays masterfully in a continuous shot of the group fighting Loki's army in Manhattan. This is not a compelling film, but it respects its characters and uses their own energy to drive the plot in a fun and controlled manner. It's a spectacle to see, and the dawn of the Superhero Epic.

TL;DR It's "Seven Samurai" with superheroes. Go watch it.

This here is a film about the lives of suburbanites, which stretches their drama to the extent it can go, without it ever feeling old or used. Its cast is an ensemble, but its core is Sarah and Brad, played by Kate Winslet and Patrick Wilson, and how they're trapped in marriages to unreceptive spouses and take refuge with one another. There is a subplot involving a sympathetic pedophile, and a broken man trying to regain his life, neither or which loses pitch in their portrayals. It lingers and develops properly, never cutting anything short, but with that being said, it is obvious how much thought went into the editing of this film. Each segment has gravity, having been toned down to the bare essentials. This film doesn't focus on the action, but the reaction. The story is told by a narrator, which is how we know what is going on, but the narrator sets up the scenes, and we watch everything build and unfold. I could tell you right now that at one time, Brad and Sarah go away for a weekend together, and while it is technically a spoiler, it is only an abridgment of a narration and would not spoil anything. The story is not essential, but is merely the stage. This movie is probably a bit too long, but it doesn't feel it. It never misses a beat, unfolding smoothly and precisely before us. There was too much dialogue in this film, and not enough action, but like I said, that was not its intent. It's a testament to the filmmakers how they got away with it.

I'm not very old. I grew up in the Nineties, not the Sixties; "Cool Hand Luke" had been out for nearly three decades by the time I saw it. And man, oh, man, is it a powerful film. I recently revisited it, as much for kicks as anything else, and I was surprised at how much I had missed when I first saw it. This film is heralded as a nonconformist film and a social commentary. Well, it may be a social commentary, but calling it a nonconformist film is like calling the Hope Diamond just a gem. It is so much more. Luke is a stubborn guy, and when he's shot at the end, it's affecting. But Luke isn't the type of guy who is stubborn to be a nuisance, it's just how he is; he can't help it. He became a hero to the men, compromising their own dreams of freedom just to get a glimpse of Luke's, but he never chose to be. He partakes in horrible acts of self-destruction, like eating fifty hard-boiled eggs in one hour or boxing against the makeshift leader of the men, and his does so willingly, until he's battered and broken beyond repair. The film is about what it takes to break a man. The psychological and physical torture put upon him by the guards cause him to question himself, and then God for having made him as he is. When he runs to an old church and asks God what to do with the hand he's been dealt is a haunting and indelible piece of cinema, from his soliloquy to his death. It's unforgettable. George Kennedy plays the leader of the prisoners, and a friend of Luke's. His character is deep and complex, not as strong as he lets on, nor does he understand Luke, but he is a wonderful character and a good man. This film is more bleak than other social commentaries, like "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" a decade later, but Paul Newman as Luke is a more likable, sympathetic character in a significantly worse situation. Nobody else could have pulled off a role like Luke.

For a film about a champion boxer, Mickey Ward, the boxer in question, is the weakest character in the entire film. It is the supporting cast who hold this film up on two legs, and it's ninety minutes of them bickering and thirty minutes of anything else happening. This film is horrifically unambitious, taking the actual story, and molding it over the forms set forth by "Raging Bull" and "Rocky" before it. Sports movies have a fairly general array of stories, but "Rocky" did it best for a boxing film. "Raging Bull" is less boxing film and more biopic, focusing on a general set of points regarding one's life, and it set the standard. "The Fighter" is half-and-half. Its story is that of a boxing film, but its focus is on its characters, except Mickey Ward, whom I thought was the main focus of the film. So you sit through two hours of Christian Bale smoking crack and Amy Adams and Melissa Leo fighting, and that's it. Then there's a brief training montage and WHOO!! Mickey Ward won the Welterweight Title. Awesome. Too bad the filmmakers neglected every step it took to actual make him an empathetic character. Come on, David O Russell, his childhood was probably relevant. Show him growing up, being put down, how he developed into the sad sack he became, because it is so much more relevant to Mickey Ward, for he lacks the emotional issues of Jake La Motta and the approachable earnestness of Rocky Balboa. I don't care if his BROTHER was a crack addict or his MOTHER was a nightmarish fiend of a woman, what I care about, or want to care about, is HIM.

I was very excited for this film. I wanted to like it. Maybe I'm just cynical; I don't know. I greatly enjoy films which use extensive cinematography ("Days Of Heaven" "Lawrence Of Arabia" etc.), and so when I heard about this one, I was very glad. Oh, how it disappointed me. For one thing, it's less romance and more a celebration of mankind's folly, which is hardly a problem, all things considered, but it lacked the weight of the issue. What I didn't like was how neither Sixten nor Hedvig were compelling characters; they're as simple as the story they inhabit. When the ending arrived and they shot themselves, I couldn't help but wonder if they shot themselves for their lost love, or the shame of their incessant stupidity. Both characters are selfish and immoral, and while Hedvig can be forgiven due to her youth, but Sixten is older and came from a situation which required legitimate maturity and responsibility, for he abandoned a wife, two kids and an officer's position in the military to accompany a young girl who couldn't give him much else than sex. This film is about love, but I saw very little of it between the two main characters. I understand the point of this film, a celebration of man's selfishness, but for one thing, that's farcically stupid. Selfishness is a reprehensible quality, and only brings suffering, which is another thing, the film makes light of that very subject. Neither character feels any remorse for what they've done, they're so blinded by love, their horrifically shallow love, they don't realize the consequences of their actions. So then they kill themselves. But why? Love. Okay. At this point, I won't bother asking.

The final scene of the film has the young Brando walk into the bar he has now been banned from and place the trophy he's "won" on the counter, making direct eye contact with Mary Murphy and giving a faint smile before he walks away and rides out of her life. This is arguably, and in my opinion, the best scene in the film, and one of the most important scenes in cinema, for it marked the dawning of an age and paved the way for the cultural revolution soon to follow. This was the birth of the anti-hero, the hero who, while not necessarily bad, nor good, just plainly does not care what others think of him. He is an ethereal figure, the film never goes into his back-story, but it addresses him as one with standards, however, he values his freedom above all else. Marlon Brando carries this film through; there is little reason to watch it apart from him. It is not by any means a bad film: it tells the story of a motorcycle gang, not criminals, just wild youth and enjoying it, who come to a small town and need to shack up for a few days while several bikes are repaired. While there, a rival gang also comes through, and so the conflict arises between the two gangs, but also the townspeople who simply wish to be left alone. It is weak in its depiction, and lacks any sort of compelling moral in that regard, but it established a genre which would grow for decades and so its importance is felt, however it is pale, trite and tame by today's standards.

I have a friend who is sort of a movie buff. Then I realized he likes action and language, and could hardly give a damn about things like cinema and film (which is a huge distinction, by the way). Well, he went on and on about this film, and the IMDb page gave it a 7.8 out of 10, so when I saw it in the bargain bin at KMart, I figured why not. Hey, it proudly boasts how fans of "Reservoir Dogs" and "Pulp Fiction" will love it on the back cover! But comparing this film to Quentin Tarantino is an audacious display of either stupidity or sheer slander.

When the film opened with the Mass I smiled, but a few minutes later when they were brawling in a bar with some Russian mobsters, I just had enough, and it was barely ten minutes in. Well, I sat through the next one hundred minutes, and noticed at almost every instance how it replaced good writing with gratuitous amounts of language and violence. Willem Dafoe was the only slight redeeming factor as a closeted-homosexual FBI agent on the trail of the Saints, but even his appeal ran thin when he had to make a moral decision of whether to aid in the boys blood-bath or capture them, like it was his job to do. If the boys had died or been caught, the ending might have satisfied me, because after all that, at least they got punished like I, the viewer, had for one-hundred-ten minutes. But no, they get out free, and the ending is about as absurd and upsetting as the entire film was before it. Not because it's insulting, no, I can handle that, but because it was legitimately bad cinema.

As soon as the film ended, and David Bowie began to play on the credits, I could only wonder why David Mills shot Kevin Spacey when he seemed so much like he was not going to. And then I realized it was a faulty seam at the end of a blanket, which would allow it to unravel and fall apart. Don't misunderstand this; I'm not complaining. The end seam may be insufficient, but it is still one of the warmest blankets you could have the pleasure of, and it only unravels once you aggravate it. No. I'm only reflecting, and wondering. I wonder how the ending could have changed to suit the grandeur that is the entire film prior to that fatal shot? What if Kevin Spacey lived, or they gave no indication whether or not Mills shot him or did not shoot him. I cannot honestly say, only that the ending is the reason why this film is one of the best of the year, and not all time. Perhaps, that only way to accurately describe such a thing is in its own words: "There isn't going to be a happy ending. He's only human, and that will be disappointing." Either way, Se7en is a phenomenal achievement in film, marred only by its own brilliance. It seems as if it burnt out at the two hour mark, and then faded away, fading from the annals of memory and grandeur.