NO GRUDGES HELD: “Grudge Match” is Disappointingly Disjointed.

I wanted to like it. I really did. 

 

It sounded good on paper: a faux sequel to “Raging Bull”  and “Rocky”, starring Robert DeNiro and Sylvester Stallone (who hadn’t shared the screen since Stallone’s legitimacy-questing film “Copland”) playing rival light heavyweight champions Billy “The Kidd” McDonnen and Henry “Razor” Sharp, who had won one title match each against the other. However, hopes of a definitive final “grudge match” between the two were dashed with Sharp’s sudden and unexplained retirement from professional boxing; an act which became an obsession with McDonnen for over thirty years despite his own professional financial success since.  Added to this volatile mix is the fact that Sharp’s girlfriend Sally (Kim Basinger) had a much-regretted one night stand with McDonnen that resulted in both a son, B.J. (Jon Bernthal) and the end of her relationship with Sharp. When Sharp finds himself in need of money, he takes an offer from wannabe promoter Dante Slate, Jr. (Kevin Hart, playing a role that must have initially been envisioned for Chris Tucker) to perform motion capture for a video game which leads to his being ambushed by McDonnen and invariably leads to the long awaited grudge match between the two war horses. 

 

Like I said, it sounded good and had this film been made a decade ago, it probably would have been.  However, as directed by Peter Segal (“50 First Dates”), the film is long on time and short on cohesiveness. The expected meta-textual commentary and “jabs” at the roles the leads were famous for are in evidence (including a common sense take on the famous “Rocky” meat locker scene), and the story itself is solid enough.  While the film is definitely hilarious in spots, its humor comes mostly from Hart’s Slate  and the “Mickey” stand-in Louis “Lightning” Conlon (Adam Arkin playing the age card for all its worth to hilarious results). The humor regarding the leads stem mostly from their age; while expected, it gets overplayed. Worse is the fact that the scenes keep going even after the humorous points have been made, almost like a bad comic who has to explain a punch-line after its delivery. As B.J., Bernthal provides DeNiro’s “palooka” character with some humanity and is, in general, likably sympathetic. Basinger is as radiant as ever and does have a humorous moment of her own. It is understandable how the two men could hate each other so thoroughly given the characters’ backstory; if it only wasn’t undermined by the two leads. 

 

Stallone and DeNiro almost have great chemistry together, but something’s missing. These days, Stallone seems almost too mellow on screen (including his “Expendables” series, but not including the recent “Escape Plan”) and in his most recent films, DeNiro seems to be coasting for the paycheck.  While there are moments of poignancy and pathos between the two (most predictably in the film’s final act), there’s not much in terms of enmity between them or the hunger to finally settle scores, a condition which sabotages DeNiro’s “impassioned” speech about the two of them not being dead yet. LL Cool J, Anthony Anderson, and Rich Little also appear in the film, with Cool J having the most screen time of the three as a trainer who refuses to train McDonnen.  

 

The frustrating thing about a film like this is that the potential is in evidence.  Had it been made in the 90s or early 2000s, it would have carried more weight. Both Stallone and DeNiro were still trying then. Ironic that the sponsor of the fight in the film is “Geritol” given that the performances of both actors really needed a vitamin shot. Like the grudge match that takes place, this film comes years too late. It’s an okay film to watch on cable, but it could have been so much more.

THE DESOLATION OF TOLKIEN: Peter Jackson Creates a Derivative Mixed-Bag in The Desolation of Smaug.

The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug opens with director Peter Jackson appearing in costume in the city of Bree. Staring directly into the camera, he takes a loud chomp off of a carrot (bookending a similar seen from The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring), and marches off. While this seems on its surface to be a tongue-in-cheek homage to Alfred Hitchcock, his manner and presentation takes on a meta-textual feel as if declaring "This is MY house". The rest of the film seems to cement this assertion.  

 

The first entry in this bloated trilogy (more on that momentarily), The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (2012), served as an entertaining, if very uneven, prologue. With all the particulars out of the way, Desolation moves at an almost frantic, though uneven, pace. Bilbo Baggins (Martin Freeman) is still journeys with Gandalf the Grey (Sir Ian McKellen) and The Company of Thorin Oakenshield (Richard Armitage) to enter the Lonely Mountain and reclaim their kingdom from the terrifying dragon, Smaug (a sublimely evil, motion-captured Benedict Cumberbatch). Along the way, Gandalf separates from the companions in order to investigate a familiar, growing evil and the troupe must overcome obstacles, including escaping imprisonment from wood elves, and skulking about the city of Lake-Town which lies at the edge of the Lonely Mountain, to attempt to regain the Arkenstone, which would cement Oakenshield’s claim to rule.  

 

The film is sumptuous to look at. While the film's vision is distinctly Jackson’s, it is somewhat filtered through the unique lens of Guillermo Del Toro, who brought his Pan's Labyrinth and Hellboy sensibilities to the film particularly in the setting of Lake-town (and quite possibly Erebor itself). Whereas the previous film returned to locations first seen in the original trilogy, cinematographer Andrew Lesnie and conceptual designer (and noted Tolkien artist) Alan Lee, the world of Middle-Earth is expanded and feels like a real world in and of itself. The visuals do capture the mythological epic nature of Tolkien's fantasy world... 

 

...that is, if Tolkien's world was fully represented. 

 

Jackson's Tolkien-based films have always been a source of division among the fans of the source material, mostly due to his penchant for embellishing upon, or outright straying from, said works. Of all these films, The Desolation of Smaug may be the most divisive to date. Jackson’s additions not only give new motivations and angst for existing characters where originally there were none, he goes so far as to create a completely new and prominent new character that never existed in Tolkien’s books. Before 2001, one of the arguments against a film adaptation was the belief that the books were, as written, "unfilm-able". In order to make the original LOTR film trilogy, many liberties were taken to entertain and attract the non-Tolkien masses. Some of those changes were controversial, but on the whole, the essence of Tolkien's work, if not the details, remained relatively intact. In this film…not so much.  

 

The question becomes how much does one change the source material before it becomes virtually divorced from it? For example, “The Hobbit” is presented from the point of view of Bilbo Baggins. However, in this film Bilbo is the focus for part of the first third and is practically invisible until it is time for him to enter Erebor. The problem with inserting material from corresponding tales from "The Silmarillion" and "Unfinished Tales" is that Bilbo is no longer the story’s focal point and, as such, is relegated to background. This lack of one cohesive protagonist confuses as well as diffuses the power of the film's narrative. It's not to say that the other characters are uninteresting. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth. All of the actors acquit themselves rather well with on one performer being a standout (including newcomers Lee Pace, Luke Evans and Stephen Fry as “King Thandruil”, “Bard the Bowman” and “The Master of Lake-town”, respectively, among others). However, this film is titled The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug; one would expect to follow the events from that character’s point of view for the majority of the film.  

 

Further, without going into spoiler-ish details, there are instances of scenes where Jackson contradicts the first trilogy, particularly where the elves are concerned. Then there's the problem of Evangeline Lilly's "Meredith"...er… "Tauriel", a character created by Peter Jackson and Fran Walsh. She exists because (since as far as I remember, there were no female characters in “The Hobbit”) modern day storytelling practically necessitates a female presence (which is not a chauvinistic judgment call, but merely a statement of fact). Her character is Middle-Earth's Katniss Everdeen; sure of bow, strong of character and stout of heart. Her presence, however pleasing to the eye or sympathetic to the viewer, is virtually unnecessary as she neither detracts nor adds to the proceedings. Due to studio decree, a romantic triangle was added after completion of principle photography in order to create a love triangle between her, Legolas (Orlando Bloom, reprising a character who, like Frodo Baggins, Galadriel and Saruman, was not in the book) and the dwarven Kili (a soulful Aidan Turner). This romance poses a problem in the fact that both the LOTR books and films establish that the first rekindling of peace between the dwarves and elves came about from the friendship forged between Legolas and Gimli (John Rhys Davis). However, the portions of Howard Shore's moving score that pertain to Tauriel hint that all may not end well for anyone involved in this triangle. Nevertheless, her inclusion does add some added context for Legolas' behavior in the LOTR film trilogy but, again, it isn't a necessary addition to begin with.

 

Is this addition emotionally moving? Yes. Is it necessary? Perhaps for the film, if one were to take these films as their own separate entity from the books. And it has to be, for Peter Jackson takes liberties that changes not only whole climatic sequences in order to enhance dramatic effect, but completely changes the motivations of some characters to have them resonate to a 21st century audience. In many ways, he rewrites Tolkien (and not always for the better). As previously asserted in other reviews on this blog, changes deemed necessary for cinematic translation of literary works are acceptable so long as the filmmakers get the essence of the characters and story right. In many ways, this time Jackson doesn't. One of the most egregious (and most likely to incite ire amongst the purists) is during Bilbo's fateful confrontation with Smaug, practically changing the antagonist's character and thus transforming the entire dynamic of the scene. Unfortunately, it doesn't improve matters. 

 

Despite the fact that in terms of pacing and action this film far surpasses its predecessor, it is filled with bloat. Some action sequences take far longer than required and it is painfully obvious that it is for the purpose of stretching the running time. On the whole, the film tries too hard to add gravitas to such an extent it almost calls attention to the fact that this film is mostly padding to get to The Hobbit: There and Back Again. Of all the films thus far, this may be the weakest of composer Howard Shore's offerings. His music is still powerfully evocative, but it is as uneven as the film itself. He eschews use of the dwarves' theme, so prominent in the previous film, favoring a recurring elvish motif that is not quite as distinct. The "One Ring" theme does present itself in this film, albeit in short bursts. In terms of music, this is Shore's Star Wars: Attack of the Clones.

 

Unfortunately, the CGI is also uneven.  A sequence involving the dwarves escape from the elven kingdom is almost no better than an Xbox game. The main focus of the digital special effects must have been Smaug the Dragon, who is rendered so realistically he almost seems too real.  Never has a dragon been so beautifully represented in terms of size, scope, and menace. 

 

The film is extremely, though frustratingly, enjoyable; in some ways, more so than the first. However, it pales next to The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, which is generally considered to be the weakest entry of the previous trilogy. It also ends in a very visceral cliffhanger, making one very frustrated in having to wait an entire year for the finale.  

 

Essentially, this film is a mixed bag. It tries too hard to have the same weight and import as The Lord of the Rings.  For people who haven’t read the book(s), the inconsistent characterization might be overlooked and the ride enjoyed for what it is.  For Tolkien purists, just roll with it.  The film is based on the book(s), and should be taken for what it is…Tolkien-lite. Just remember going in that this is Peter Jackson's house; we're simply guests in it.

 

>Chomp<

BREAKING THE AVERAGES: "The Hunger Games: Catching Fire" is What a Sequel Should Be

To say that The Hunger Games: Catching Fire will be a box office hit is a no-brainer. After all, the Suzanne Collins penned books are national best sellers and the 2012 film grossed over $400 million domestic alone. However, there remains the question as to whether its sequel is deserving of the same success.

Suffice it to say, it is. 

As the film opens, we find Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence, bearing a marked resemblance to Lynda Carter with her raven locks) returned to District 12, unaware that her success in the 74th Hunger Games has planted the seeds of civil unrest and burgeoning revolution. This fact has not escaped President Snow (a sublimely oily Donald Sutherland) who realizes that Katniss, and by extension all the other surviving game contestants, are a danger to the current regime. Therefore, he invokes a "little known reserve activation clause" that forces all winners to compete against each other in the 75th Hunger Games to the death.

In many ways, this film is superior to its predecessor. Director Francis Lawrence (no relation) imbues the film with an overwhelming, oppressively fascist tone. The Capitol's futuristic, opulent USSR/Nazi architecture is evocative of those historical periods while at the same time serves as counterpoint to the impoverished squalor that pervades the thirteen districts. Technology is ever present, used in tracking the movements of all citizenry. It is a world that satirizes our own in terms of where our society is headed. Its power and horror comes from how it reflectively resonates in our own everyday lives. However, in this world, that regime is completely personified in President Snow, and thus gives our archer protagonist a suitable target to focus upon.

It is not an easy job for any actor, male or female, to shoulder an entire franchise. Yet Jennifer Lawrence seems to be able to do so effortlessly. Her performance is as fresh and vital as in the first film, and not one scene rings false. She carries you along and makes you care for not just her, but what concerns her; primarily, the safety of her mother (Paula Malcomson, whose character still has no name), her sister, Primrose (Willow Shields in a surprisingly mature performance), and boyfriend No. 1, Gale Hawthorne (Liam Hemsworth). However, Lawrence’s performance is supported by a fine cast of returning regulars. As annoying as he was in the first film, Peeta is given surprising depth by Josh Hutcherson. For a character that straddles the line between fully realized persona and ersatz Christ figure, Hutcherson does a very good balancing act. He makes the character humanly relatable, thus given an added spice to the story's love triangle. Elizabeth Banks' Effie Trinket also undergoes a surprising character shift, going from superficial to poignant; one that is perhaps emblematic of the revolutionary changes within society itself. In terms of acting, Woody Harrelson usually does no wrong, and he continues that streak here. His role as drunk mentor Haymitch is somewhat diminished compared to the first film but he makes his mark. As new Game Master Plutarch Heavensbee, Phillip Seymour Hoffman is the film's Lando Calrissianesque-cypher who leaves the audience guessing as to whether he is friend or foe (if one hasn't read the book, that is). I would be remiss if I did not mention Donald Sutherland, who actually manages to present a character who is both disarmingly charming yet coldly malevolent; providing the perfect foil for our heroine. Other notable additions to the class include Jeffrey Wright, Amanda Plummer, and Lynn Cohen; all of whom elevate their "second banana" characters into individuals who, despite minimal screen time, the audience comes to care for.

Jo Willems' cinematography and Phillip Messina's production design makes for a fully realized world. If there is a sour note in the production, and granted it is not much of one, it is in John Newton Howard's score. It is essentially a rehash of the first film's score with barely any new themes or motifs of note. However, it does work within the context of the film, underscoring each scene’s import and meaning without overpowering it.

The film skillfully follows the second rule of trilogies in that it is more of the same, only heightened. Unlike other trilogies (I'm looking at you Matrix, of which this film's end is remarkably similar), Catching Fire whets one's appetite for this trilogy's conclusion. This film is intelligently, soulfully well-crafted. It tells the story of one girl's reluctant and seemingly hopeless battle against a tyrannical system. It packs an emotional punch that leaves the audience clamoring for the conclusion. Let's just hope that the forthcoming Mockingjay (Parts 1 and 2 - don't get me started on that one), is more The Lord of The Rings - The Return of the King and less Star Wars: Return of the Jedi in terms of conclusory satisfaction.

THOR: THE DARK WORLD is a Bright Light In a Sea of Dark Cinematic Super-Heroics - [POSSIBLE SPOILERS]

In advance of this film, the folks at the satirical “Honest Movie Trailers” (only a YouTube search away) began their tongue-in-cheek summarization of Thor (2011) thusly: “Prepare for a film that only exists so non-nerds can recognize the blond guy in The Avengers.”  If one adheres to the postulate that the best satire always contains a glimmer of truth, then this is a sad indictment.  However, the same cannot be said for Thor: The Dark World, a film which, despite its missteps, is as close to “epic” as the Marvel Universe series of films have gotten.

Two years have passed since “The Battle for New York” as chronicled in 2009’s Marvel’s The Avengers.  “Thor” (Chris Hemsworth) along with “The Warriors Three” (“Fandral” (Zachary Levi), “Volstagg” (Ray Stevenson), and “Hogun” (Tadanobu Asano)) and “Lady Sif” (Jaimie Alexander), has been defending the nine realms from the forces of darkness.  However, the Thunder God who once lived for battle and glory takes no pleasure in his adventures, choosing instead to pine for mortal scientist "Jane Foster" (Natalie Portman) as he has been forbidden by "Odin the All-Father" (Battle-Armor-Santa-Claus Sir Anthony Hopkins) to return to Midgard (otherwise known as "Earth") for her. However, Jane comes to be possessed by the Aether, a destructive force of red energy that is sought after by the arch-nemesis of the Asgardians, the Dark Elves, who are led by "Malekith" (Christopher Eccleston). Thor must then forge a dark alliance with his half-brother "Loki" (fan-favorite Tom Hiddleston) and race against both time and the dark elves, who wish for nothing less than the annihilation of all creation, to find Jane before the Aether consumes her utterly.

Taking over the directoral reins from Kenneth Branagh, and working off a script from Christopher Yost, Christopher Markus, and Stephen McFeely, sometime Game of Thrones director Alan Taylor forgoes the ersatz Shakespearian "Henry V" take and puts the characters and situations squarely in the space opera milieu with the only thing missing is the proverbial "singing fat lady".  

The film is a visually sumptuous feast.  As befitting a story about quasi-alien/mythological gods, the sets, the costumes, the scenery, are full of grandiose pageantry even if the 3-D renderings are somewhat off, especially with backgrounds that lose clarity.  Though not quite done in the distinctive style of Thor’s co-creator Jack Kirby, in many respects the set designs would have made him proud.  The realm of Asgard is a cornucopia of brilliant, primary-colored hues. By contrast, the Dark Elves and their ships are stark, earthy, and darkly green.  Whereas Asgard is the epitome of life in all its excess and splendor, the elvish world is a macrocosm of stark death and decay. However, the elvish side of the film is way too reminiscent of the Reman race in Star Trek: Nemesis, from the starkness and capabilities of the vessels to the relationship between the antagonist and his right-hand man. In fact, there’s a lot in this film that is evocative of the Star Wars and Star Trek franchises; unsurprising since, through the course of the source material’s inception (especially under the watch of comic creator Walt Simonson, upon whose stories some of the film’s elements are based), "Thor" has been a grand space opera. To say more about the visuals would be to give away too much.  Suffice it to say that in that regard, this is one of the better comic-to-film translations. At times, it really does look and feel like a comic book come to life. 

For all that, though, the film is uneven. When the action takes place, it’s, pardon the expression, thunderous.  However, the action is, at times, injudiciously placed. Other scenes are juxtaposed against each other in a jarring fashion. One scene in particular, which should have carried potent weight, while visually stunning, is devoid of any real heft. Much of this has to do with the treatment of a certain character.  The audience is never given enough time to identify with the players. That, coupled with the almost perfunctory length of said scene, causes it to fail. This despite Brian Tyler’s surprisingly nuanced score, which ranges from brass nobility (with echoes of John Williams from another franchise by Marvel’s “Distinguished Competition”) to quieter, almost spiritual moments. The story's flow is disjointed, but this narrative aberration mostly takes place between the first and second acts. Once the second half of the film takes off, the ride continues until the very end.

What sets this film apart from most other super-heroic fare of late is that, while the stakes are high, the film doesn't take itself so seriously that it forgets to be fun.  Yes, there are battles in which there are civilians in danger, but this film reminds us that the hero is working to save lives, not just contribute to the collateral damage. The film also manages to balance out its proceedings with a liberal dose of organic humor which never seems forced, from Thor's use of mundane, every day items to "Darcy Lewis'" (Kat Dennings) ad-libbed quips.

Though his direction is somewhat off in certain scenes, credit Taylor towards his direction of the actors.  Chris Hemsworth cannot be dismissed as just another pretty face or muscular body. Between the events of the first film and the aforementioned Avengers, his Thor has matured as a character, and Hemsworth's performance is a far cry from the super-powered frat boy from the first film.  Hemsworth's Thor has grown to be a much more responsible, seasoned, nobly heroic character. He's just damned heroic (Much more so in this presentation, daresay, than another crimson caped, nihilistically-reimagined pseudo-demigod with his own film this past summer). It's an internal as well as physical performance; it's not so much what Hemnsworth says, or rather what he doesn't, but how he does it...a look here, a stance there.  Hemsworth is an actor of surprising depth and emotional acuity. Unfortunately, while there are moments that he seems lost in his own film, that issue has more to do with script concerns and direction than his actual performance.

As the villain "Malekith", Christopher Eccleston (Doctor Who) looks like a refugee from the Forgotten Realms fantasy series by way of the Borg (a comparison made all the more tongue-in-cheek given that the Borg Queen herself, Alice Krige, has a cameo in this film). Given that he's playing a character that solely exists (narratively and meta-textually) for the destruction of everything, there's not a whole lot to be expected by way of character nuance or development. He is appropriately driven and menacing, though his expression does seem more befuddled than actually menacing. As a villain, one could do worse.

Of course, fan favorite Loki is in the mix; his role expanded due to the character's rise in popularity. Ordinarily this would have been a source of concern, as more often than not re-writes to justify an actor's/character's expanded role can compromise the script, it's certainly not the case here.  Hiddleston gives a performance that deftly adds to the proceedings without overshadowing his co-stars, particularly Thor.  Loki's moral ambiguity remains intact throughout the tale, making him more compelling than his villainous turn in The Avengers. He provides the few genuine surprises to be had. Hiddleston knows when to be big and when to dial it back.  Even when he's being bad, he's oh, so good. He also has a quiet moment that is both shocking when juxtaposed with his normal carriage but understandable within context. Hiddleston gives a laudable presentation.

Natalie Portman's "Jane Foster", though still the film's damsel-in-distress, is not quite helpless.  However, for a scientist, her character doesn't seem to have sufficient chemistry with Thor. Hemsworth and Portman acquit the couple well, but quite frankly the passion that the couple is supposed to feel for each other is not quite there. We know the characters are in love because the story/script tells us they are, but the audience should feel this come viscerally from them. This is not in evidence; especially given the fact that Hemsworth seems to have more palpable chemistry with Jaimie Alexander.

Though many of the secondary characters have scant screen time, they never seem two-dimensional.  In fact, they fell more three-dimensional than they did in the first outing.  Possible-"Wonder Woman"-in-Training Jaimie Alexander infuses "Lady Sif" with an Amazonian regality which masks an unspoken yet emotionally palpable romantic pining for the Thunder God, for example. She has very little to say, but one cannot forget her presence when on screen. The tragedy of unrequited love evident in but a glance. Rene Russo, who portrayed "Frigga" in what amounted to a  blink-it-and-you'll-miss-it cameo in the first film, is given the opportunity to play with the big boys and she makes the most of it to such an extent you find yourself wishing there were more of her.  Idris Elba makes up for his Pacific Rim overacting by infusing Heimdall with a noble-yet-stately and powerful quiescence. His character is not one to be trifled with.  Kat Dennings, Stellan Skarsgard, and newcomer to the series Jonathan Howard provide the human and welcomed comic relief.

If there is any sour note to the performances, it surprisingly comes from Sir Anthony Hopkins as "Odin". While his character is the epitome of the distant and unapproachable, never-pleased father figure, half the time Hopkins' performance (at times seemingly phoned in) seems to reflect an attitude that the material is beneath him; despite this, there are moments of nuance in his performance; especially in one scene that would fall apart without it.  In that one moment, Hopkins earns his assuredly-costly paycheck. 

While Iron Man 3 was the most highly anticipated Marvel film of this year, Thor: The Dark World is arguably the superior film. While it doesn't quite live up to its potential, it is by no means a failure. Not in recent years has a super-hero production seem to embrace its source trappings without seeming embarrassed by them.  It's a big, loud and, yes, epic spectacle with a genuine heart and something that has been lacking in super-hero films of late: A hero to truly root for. At the film's conclusion, it is said that Thor will return.  This is one promise this reviewer hopes is kept.

[Oh, as for the now-requisite Marvel credits/post-credits scene...the mid-credit scene seems slipshod and hastily put together.  Definitely stay for the end credit scene. You'll be glad you did.]

"HEY BULLY!"

***NOTE:  The following was never meant for publishing. However, given the increasing awareness of bullying and its unfortunate effects within our society, I thought it appropriate to show that it can and does happen to anyone.

 

 

Do you remember what you said to me at our twenty year high school reunion, “buddy”?

 

“I’m really sorry for bullying you…but you have to admit, you really had it coming.”

 

I understand that time passes, we grow, we change. You’ve turned your life around; even become an educator at the very junior high we attended.  As you’ve intimated in our one and only conversation since those days that standing on the outside, surveying bully and bullied, that you’ve gained an understanding for what you did and claim that you can see how far reaching the damage can be to those bullied.

 

And yet you still have the temerity to state “[I] really had it coming”?

 

Really? 

 

I had it coming? 

 

How so, Mr. “So-Called-Reformed-Bully?” You, with your back-handed apology, think you know what bullying does to a person.  You think I asked for it? You think I was weak? What you didn't know was that in my first two years of school I was a very violent child.  You never knew that when teased or cornered I would attack my peers with such savage, emotional fury the type of which only an enraged child can muster that my opponents would get seriously hurt; one of whom eventually ended up in the hospital. You never knew of the shame I would feel from my parents and the only teacher I adored and respected back then…of how they so thoroughly shamed me into never raising my hand in violence again. How I was practically forbidden to defend myself as my parents didn’t clarify the difference between violence and self-defense; how I could not retaliate for my opponent's (read: your) protection, not mine, for the rest of my scholastic life.

 

All I wanted to do was mind my own business, show up to my classes, do what was required, and leave.  You and your cronies went out of your way to seek me out to heap your daily dose of verbal and physical abuse. I carried all my heavy school books…yes, ALL…in my backpack to minimize any possibility of your cornering me at my locker. I learned your (and your buddies’) class and lunch schedules so as to navigate the hallways with the minimal possibility of running into you.  I minded my own business on those rare classes we shared, but that didn’t stop you from surreptitiously tying my belt loop to my chair so that when the bell rang, I almost cracked my skull open after my chair slipped from under me due to the force of my getting up. 

 

You never knew that during school days I would wake up with a feeling of anxious dread. You never knew the toll it took on my self-esteem…how the rest of you could go about your lives willy-nilly and how I had to stay in control.  Every hit, every punch, every verbal epitaph I received…all undeserved, yet stoically (at least outwardly) endured nonetheless because, in the back of my mind, the shame would return; shame in and shame out without expression or release, impotently drowning in my own salty sea of sorrow.

 

And that pain stays with you…no matter what the age or how much time has passed. It stings with the freshness of yesterday. It becomes a part of your make-up. It infuses so much of your decisions in life whether consciously or otherwise. You take up self-defense classes. You bulk up your body by adding muscle to your frame. You gain an empathy for those that the “too cool for school” set has written off and discarded. You pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and trudge forward. You harden.  You compromise your ability to trust to keep from being betrayed.  You distance yourself from others to keep from feeling pain again.  You become a person who becomes virtually unrecognizable to the person who you used to be.  Yes, to some degree my own transformation is due in part because of you and your ilk. However, you should consider it a source of shame, not pride. Yes, one can move on from those experiences, learn from them, and let them go.  But despite that, the pain still remains as prevalent as a scar. It heals, bur remains.

 

When you said your “apology”, I gave you such a look that your own eyes registered momentary apprehension, and even perhaps a bit of fear; one which heightened when I approached you, stepped into your personal space, and told you where to shove that apology.  In that tiny, uncertain moment, you had but a miniscule taste of what I had felt for years of painful adolescence.  I hope you carry that with you for the rest of your days.  Maybe then, when you see it happen to others under your academic watch that you really make things right. Maybe then, I can believe you finally truly understand.  And maybe you might come to realize that of the two of us, you were the one who was really asking for it.

 

REVIEW PROOF: "Machete Kills" With More Over The Top, Gratiutious, Sublime Ridiculousness.

Machete (2010) was never intended to be a film.  The character and concept first saw the light of day as a fake trailer for the Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino's Grindhouse, the two directors' love letter to the film's eponymous film genre. However, the popularity of the trailer eclipsed that of the actual features (Tarantino's Death Proof and Rodriguez' Planet Terror, respectively). In response to fan demand, Machete was greenlit, with a cast that boasted the likes of Robert DeNiro, Jessica Alba, and Lindsay Lohan in a nun's habit (!). It made respectable box office and quickly achieved cult status through cable and home media strong enough to move forward with a sequel.

Whereas the original Machete was a send up of the Mexploitation/grindhouse films of the 70s, Machete Kills goes beyond and sends up various film, television, and even comic book genres of the 70s, including but not limited to Star Wars, Star Trek, "The Fantastic Four", and particularly the Roger Moore Bond films, with a little bit of 24 thrown into the mix. Machete (Danny Trejo) is practically a Mexican analogue of that era's James Bond, though substituting Moore's sardonic, raised-eyebrow smirk with a perpetual scowl and a predilection to refer to himself in the third person.  However, this film makes Moore's more outrageous turns as James Bond (Moonraker, anyone...upon which this film heavily draws on?) seem like an episode of Downtown Abbey.  Oh, there's a plot involving the Trejo's being recruited by the President of the United States (Carlos Estevez* in a ..."winning"...performance) to take down a rogue but insane rogue agent (Demian Bichir, who practically channels Al Pacino's '80s overacting phase...which isn't necessarily a good thing...) before he can use a nuclear warhead aimed straight for Washington, but the story just exists to string set piece after outrageous set piece.

For a film that serves as homage to an era of bad filmmaking, it is surprisingly good.  Rodriguez, who also served as screenwriter along with Kyle Ward and Marcel Rodriguez, manages to put in a plethora of "I didn't see that coming" moments that actually make sense within the context of the movie...as much as one can in a nonsensical film, that is. The violence is so ridiculously over the top, the Hershey's chocolate company must have made a mint for all the fake blood that was used in the production. While the violence is disturbing, it's so outrageously, bizarrely absurd that its almost akin to watching an R-rated "Looney Tunes" cartoon, albeit one with an inordinate amount of "T&A" (but who's complaining?).

Equally absurd are the performances.  As with the first film, Rodriguez has amassed an eclectic mix of "A" and "B" listers who are not only clearly in on the joke, but gleefully revel in it: Most especially Michelle Rodriguez returning as "Luz", Machete's one-eyed, off and on, kick-ass friend with benefits; Vanessa Hudgens as the tongue-firmly-in-cheek named "Cereza", Amber Heard as Machete's government agent handler who is also a finalist in the "Miss Texas" pageant; Sofia Vergara as a psychotic Madame with a very...special set of accoutrements; a very grown up Alexa Vega, who serves as Vegara's right hand woman; and Lady Gaga(!), Cuba Gooding, Jr., Antonio Banderas, and Walton Goggins, each playing...well, that would be telling. But the prize for the most standout performance goes to Mel Gibson, whose nutty presence is a perfect fit, both meta-textually and within the story, with the film's nutty shenanigans.  Playing a villain for the first time in his long career, Gibson shines as "Luther Voz", a billionaire "Blofeld/Hugo Drax" analogue (as if the "Luther" name didn't clue one in as to the character's alignment). Given the dark, self-inflicted turns his life has taken in the last few years, it is easy to forget that Mel Gibson was a very talented thespian under that once-handsome face.  This film reminds us of that fact. His acting exchanges with the stoic Trejo actually help bolster Trejo's performance; Gibson gives his all but reins in appropriately when necessary so as not to dominate their shared scenes.  Say what you will about the man's mental/emotional state, Gibson still knows how to capture attention. The film is a giant >wink< to the audience as Rodriguez takes advantage of the pop culture baggage attached to some of the players, using our acknowledgement of them to enhance the proceedings without overlying upon them.  It's very deftly handled.

 

There's really not much to say about Machete Kills other than the fact that it's a gonzo joy ride of insanity.  It's a guy film in the best sense of the word.  Who needs to juice up with 'roids when you can sit and watch this film.  Leave all thought of coherence and physics at the door.  Machete Kills won't be everyone's cup of tea, but oh, what a sublime brew it is.

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*Otherwise known as "Charlie Sheen".

RETRO REVIEW: CHEAPER THAN THERAPY - "Married Life" Offers a More Adult View of Marital Affairs

Ira Sachs’ film Married Life (2007), based on the novel by John Bingham, is aptly named.  Much like the institution that informs its subject, the film carries certain expectations going in but reveals something wholly unexpected beneath its facade. 

 

Set some time in the 1940s in an unnamed city, the film centers on “Harry Allen” (Chris Cooper), a man living through a very routine marriage to his wife, “Pat” (Patricia Clarkson) while being enamored with his beautiful mistress, “Kay” (the ethereal Rachel McAdams).  He wants out of his banal marriage but cannot bring himself to ask for a divorce for fear of the social and psychological consequences to Pat.  So, in order to spare her the pain and embarrassment of divorce, he “logically” decides to kill her. To complicate matters, he confesses his intent to his best friend, the rakishly debonair “Richard Langley” (Pierce Brosnan), an unrepentant womanizer who eventually falls for Kay as well.

 

The plot smacks of David Lynch-ian sensibilities and could have easily fallen into melodramatic “whodunit” territory.  Surprisingly, Sachs and co-screenwriter Oren Moverman avoid the temptation to do so.  Rather, Sach’s film is an exploration of the mores and hypocrisies found within relationships both in and out of wedlock, and presents same with refreshing honesty and maturity that, for the most part, succeeds.

 

This film could not be done in the present day, for many of the plot twists (of which there are a few), could easily be unraveled with a cell phone or a laptop computer.  The decision to use post-war America is also practical as it presents marital infidelity during a time when it was considered scandalous taboo.  The music by Dickon Hinchliffe is nondescriptly melodious and acts as a perfect reflection to the subject matter.  Peter Derning’s cinematography, which presents a combination of Art Deco and film noir sensibilities, creates a stylistic confluence evocative of both yet adhering to neither.

 

The strength of this film lies in the characters.  Chris Cooper is quietly engaging as the middle-aged Allen, a complex man to whom killing does not come easy.  Cooper, who is perhaps best remembered as the head of Treadstone in The Bourne Identity, manages with a look to convey the conflicting, rumbling emotions that his milquetoast exterior belies.  Patricia Clarkson is a revelation in her portrayal of Pat, a woman who may not be as fragile as everyone assumes her to be.  As the mistress/divorcee, Rachel McAdams radiates a physical beauty evocative of Veronica Lake.  Unfortunately, of all the characters, hers is the most two-dimensional.  She is more ethereal muse than flesh-and-blood person to the two male leads, inspiring them to consider avenues of thought they hadn’t before.  As to the other male lead, why is it that Pierce Brosnan seems to be closer to the literary James Bond post-Bond than he was ever allowed to be in his tenure as the cinematic super-spy?  As in his turns in The Fourth Protocol, The Tailor of Panama and most recently the critically-acclaimed The Matador, Brosnan infuses his character with a rapscallion flair and rapier wit.  Yet despite his betrayal of Allen’s friendship, he infuses Langley with charmingly disarming sensitivity and depth.  It is perhaps Brosnan’s most nuanced performance to date, and it is a superb turn.

 

This film will probably not be at the box office long because it is a film that does not follow standard formulaic clichés, nor is it filled with moments of exaggerated action or pathos.  Like the lives it depicts, the film is a quiet affair (pun intended) which presents its conflicts and resolutions (or lack thereof) in a human and adult manner.  Sachs’ purpose in this film is to show that a married life is not a fairy tale that ends “happily ever after” or that passion overrules all, but that true love and affection take time to build.  Every frame shot, every character interaction, shows that this film is a product of that which makes a good marriage:  A labor of love.