News of the World (2/5 Stars)

 

News of the World was brought to us by writer/director Paul Greengrass. Greengrass is one of our better directors. He has made some excellent dramas like Bloody Sunday and Captain Phillips as well as the best installments of the Jason Bourne franchise. He has a knack for stripped down realism. Bloody Sunday is the story of a protest gone wrong in Northern Ireland. Captain Phillips, his first collaboration with Tom Hanks, recreated the hijacking of a container ship by Somali pirates off the horn of Africa. Dialogue in a Greengrass movie is utilitarian and his hand-held shooting style gives that documentary feeling of being there. More than anything, a Greengrass movie usually benefits the from the creator’s clear and distinct matter of the subject matter. News of the World would seem to be an exception to the above. This movie feels like an anachronistic jumble of modern sensibilities shoe-horned into the guise of a Western. The most obvious example is the casting of Tom Hanks who has never acted in a Western before and for what seems to be good reason. He looks and feels out of place and time. He doesn’t even try for an accent even though his character has lived all his life in Texas.

Tom Hanks plays “Captain Kidd”, a man who spends his time travelling from place to place in Texas reading big city newspapers. He is a travelling show, but with a bit more scholarly class. The movie takes place during Reconstruction after the Civil War. For some reason, there are federal union troops standing in the back fully armed. The people in the audience do not like the occupying troops or hearing any news about the federal government, which is weird because its not like the show is mandatory curriculum. They could just leave or not show up at all. And it is not like Captain Kidd must read that news. He is like a mother serving vegetables at dinner, but he’s not a mother and these people are not his kids, so…

Between one town and the next he comes across a hijacked wagon. The driver of the wagon, a black man, is hanging from a rope nearby. There is a paper on him that reads something like, “Not in Texas”. Captain Kidd finds nearby a traumatized white girl who speaks only Kiowa. For that reason, she can’t explain what happened to Captain Kidd. How convenient. I would give a shiny nickel to anyone who could explain to me what happened. Clearly some unknown white people lynched the unknown black guy, that much we know. But why did they do it? Did they dislike the fact that he was transporting a white girl? If so, why did they leave the white girl there? Did they perform the lynching just because he was black and on the road? Is the message supposed to be for other black people? But there are no other black people in this movie. And this is the middle of Texas in the 1870s. Why would he be here, and if he was here, why would he be by himself? Here’s the real stumper: What in the world is this black man doing with this particular white girl? We learn later in the film that she is a daughter of German settlers who had been massacred by the Kiowa Tribe. The tribe kidnapped her, adopted her, and taught her the language. She was with the tribe for years we learn. Okay, so what is with the black man? Did he rescue her a la John Wayne in The Searchers? That seems unlikely. Where was he taking her and for what purpose? Did Greengrass just want to show us a lynching regardless of whether it made any sense in the story? Questions, questions.

There are several scenes of unreality happening here and there. Not a single character is religious even though almost every character should be. There is the usual dearth of children even though back then they would have outnumbered adults (This is an anachronism found in almost all historical movies). Captain Kidd spares the rod to an absurd degree for a man in the 1870s. Then there is this one ridiculous scene. Captain Kidd and Joanna (the girl) are caught in a serious dust storm with no help of shelter, not even a tent. It is a situation that ought to be fatal given their circumstances. Instead, Joanna uses her magical Kiowa training and finds some magical Kiowa tribesman. They are just hanging out there in that dust storm. They give Joanna a horse, like one of their good ones, for free. Captain Kidd and Joanna ride that magic horse into town and survive. This isn’t supposed to be real, right? I mean this must be some kind of metaphor, right? Right?

The lack of judgment, nay the outright reverence, this movie has for this tribe is kind of crazy. I mean, they murdered the entire family of this girl. And Tom Hanks just stands there repeating in an impotent manner, “I know people are hurting.” I suppose it is hard being judgmental when the movie seems to take the modern view that the settling of the American West was a bad thing overall. This kind of viewpoint makes for a strange Western, made more so since there are no major Native American characters, and the supporting ones are magical creatures of the plains.

Okay, so we only have white people talking here. What are they saying? Captain Kidd says “I know people are hurting.” Okay, that’s unhelpful. The main bad guy is Mr. Farley. He is a western entrepreneur. His employees shoot buffalos and only take the hide. There are heaps of shorn carcasses laying around. A terrible environmentalist. He is also very ugly, which in a Hollywood movie is a dead giveaway to someone’s underlying decrepit moral character. Mr. Farley says the main problem is Indians, Mexicans, and Blacks. Really? He is out here in the Wild West (i.e. the middle of nowhere) and that is his problem?

The Western is a longstanding genre in American movies. It has produced many great movies and a vast trove of mediocre ones. The main problem in a Western is not racism, its lawlessness. When you think of racism in America, you think of slavery and segregation (or zoning?), both of which were enforced through a legal code. In the Wild West, there is no legal code. Whatever justice or injustice exists is meted out by individuals. (This by the way is the great storytelling strength of the Western. Because there is no society, the characters’ individual choices matter more than usual, which raises the dramatic stakes, makes good men better and bad men worse). Some of the best Westerns are those movies that are about the slow and painful transformation from the state of nature to civilized society, for example The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance and the HBO series Deadwood.

Ever since the 1970s though, this theme has fallen into disfavor with a vast segment of the population. After all, to tell a story from the American West with the theme of a transition from a state of nature to a civilized society carries with it the implicit argument that civilized society did not exist in the American West before the Europeans showed up and imposed it. In response to this dig at Native Americans, there are many movies that portray Native Americans as some magical people imbued with all colors of the wind. To hear them say it, the Native Americans would have forever lived in peace and harmony had the white people not shown up. In Dances with Wolves, a disaffected veteran of the American Civil War seeks to live with the Indians to get away from the corruption and strife within American society. Actually, the Native Americans have wars too, but this white man does not see the shared humanity between races behind such negative outcomes. He witnesses a battle between Native American tribes and reflects that white people fight and kill over stupid things like religion and ideology while the Native Americans fight and kill over things that make sense like food and territory. Yeah, I don’t think a distinction between reasons for killing is persuasive. We are not so different. If Native Americans wore cowboy hats, some would be white and some would be black.

I say since the 1970s, but this kind of viewpoint of tribal peoples is much older. In fact, its French. It is the sort of thing that contrarian French aristocrats like Voltaire and Rousseau would throw around while lounging in salons. (The British were busy taking over the world). In Voltaire’s Candide, the main character travels to America and discovers a secret city named El Dorado, that lacks crime, is full of happy people, etc. Its superiority derives from the lack of modern influences. For example, diamonds line the streets because the inhabitants are uncorrupted by the modern economic forces that would make them valuable. (Wakanda from Black Panther is basically the same idea. It is ironic that the message of Black Panther is openness, given everything about Wakanda argues for the opposite. After all, if Wakanda, a morally superior and technologically advanced civilization, has a racial makeup that is 100% homogenous, wouldn’t that argue in favor of a closed society and a pure race. How exactly has the immigration policy of Wakanda changed since its king publicly lectured the world on the benefits of openness? I would love to see that debate on Wakanda CSPAN.) Rousseau was basically of the belief that men hit their peak of morality a thousand years before cities when everyone was a Noble Ape, a child of the forest. This point of view is not too different from Dances with Wolves.

The grass is always greener on the other side. It is hard to explain what ought to be obvious. That life is better for everybody now than it ever was for any single Native American back then. People live longer, they don’t starve to death, their children don’t die in droves in childbirth and disease, women aren't treated like chattel, there is far less violence in the world, we’re all much more educated and have much more free time. I could go on, how much time do you have? A good Western understands this. It does not ignore the trials and injustices of the past, but it understands that the story is one that starts at chaos and heads toward order, not the other way around. If it does not have this, and it isn’t explicitly in the French line of thinking, it is a search in the wilderness for meaning and purpose. It is Tom Hanks playing an ex-Confederate soldier without the characteristics of one, feeling vaguely guilty, but not being able to articulate why.

Toy Story 4 (3/5 Stars)

The first scene in Toy Story 4 takes place nine years before the main plot. Woody and the gang are still Andy’s toys. Andy’s family gets a visit from a neighbor/friend who is in the market for household items. Among a few other trinkets, Andy’s family gives away the Bo Peep lamp because Andy’s sister has grown out of it. Bo Peep, you may remember from the first two films, is the romantic interest of Woody. Before Bo Peep is packed up in a box and shipped away forever, she and Woody have a sad moment. And for some reason, I’m sitting there weirdly reminded of that scene in slave movies where the mother is sold down the river.

In the first two movies, the audience wasn’t asked to explore existential questions about the “human condition” of these toys. The third movie had serious undertones, parodies of political science and at least one scene of toy adultery but didn’t ask questions that made me feel weird. Toy Story 4 ventures there. To a certain extent, I am fine with this, but I have to ask: would a child like this film?

When we last left off, Woody and the gang had been bequeathed to a cute little girl named Bonnie. She’s a good kid, but unfortunately for Woody, isn’t as interested in male cowboys than Andy had been. (She’s likes playing with Jessie more). Woody is left in the closet most days where he becomes increasingly lonely and increasingly desperate. On Bonnie’s first day of kindergarten, she uses some arts and crafts to make a new toy out of a spork, some popsicle sticks and some googly eyes. She names him Forky, writes her name on his feet, and, incredibly, the toy comes to life (Forky is voiced by Tony Hale). The toy is essentially born before our eyes and I’m sitting there weirdly thinking “Frankenstein’s Monster”. This Forky is an ugly abomination of a toy.

Forky knows this. He has an immediate suspicion he is not a toy and should not have been created. There are several scenes of him declaring himself trash and trying to throw himself away into various trashcans. And I’m sitting there weirdly thinking Forky is attempting suicide over and over again. The situation is played for laughs, and it is definitely funnier that what I’m making it sound like here, but the existential implications are unmistakably there.

Bonnie’s family goes on a road trip. They stop over at a place with a traveling carnival. Here, against all possibilities, Andy meets Bo Peep. Bo Peep is a lost toy now. She is homeless but does not seem all that bothered about it. After all, she ain’t working on Maggie’s Farm no’ mo. She likes kids but no longer measures her worth by how much she is loved by one. The arc of Toy Story 4 is essentially Woody realizing that he doesn’t need Bonnie and that there is a world elsewhere: the Emancipation of Woody.

Are these just toys? Woody has thoughts, feelings, friends, and an interest in romance. Isn’t he essentially human in the ways that count? If he’s human, shouldn’t he have rights? Shouldn’t he be getting paid for the work he is doing for that kid? Why does he just blindly do whatever he is told? When he states with certainty that there is nothing more noble than being a child’s toy, doesn’t he come off as brainwashed? The more Toy Story 4 explores the “human condition” of these toys, the weirder the franchise gets.

Do these toys ever die? If Forky can come alive through a child’s imagination, shouldn’t he die through the inverse of that situation. Wouldn’t it make more sense for lost toys to once again become inanimate objects. Maybe that would instill the fear of god in these toys and create that sense of fear that would bound them in perpetual and desperate servitude to their child masters. Just something I was thinking about when I left the theater. Are the children pondering the same things?

Bridge of Spies (4/5 Stars)

Steven Spielberg has been around so long now that it is fair to say that his style isn’t like old school filmmaking as much as it is old school filmmaking. His fluid framing, the polish of the dialogue, and the frequency of virtuous themes represent the Platonic ideal all other filmmaking either imitate, elaborate upon, or reject. “Bridge of Spies,” has all the hallmarks of a very by the book movie. There are no missteps mainly because the movie takes very few chances. If you are acquainted with Spielberg, you will recognize a lot of his signature moves that he has already proven are effective in many other movies. “Bridge of Spies” is the safest movie in theaters right now. I doubt there will be many people who won’t like it. But isn't like this is Spielberg's best movie as much as it feels like a breather between great movies.

“Bridge of Spies,” is a historical period piece set in the Cold War late 1950s about an admirable man named James Donovan. He was an insurance lawyer who was summoned to represent in court a captured soviet spy named Rudolph Abel (played by Mark Rylance). Nobody really wants Abel to not be anything other than guilty but at the same time there is this whole American Constitution thing and everybody deserves a capable defense. Donovan proves capable enough to save his client from execution.

Then things take an interesting turn when an American spy named Francis Gary Powers is shot down over Russia. Donovan is called upon to negotiate an exchange of spies. This will all know from our history books, he succeeds at doing. What makes this story new (and probably why Spielberg chose to make a movie about it) is the revelation that Donovan went out of his way to also exchange a release of an American student named Prior from East Germany at the same time. The U.S. government really doesn’t care whether the student gets released as long as Powers comes back so Donovan’s mission is entirely altruistic and self-imposed. He is in fact negotiating not only with the Soviets, the East Germans, but also the C.I.A. And he deserves every bit the title of master negotiator. Donovan is played by Tom Hanks perfectly cast as a smart idealistic American everyman.

The movie is but a series of conversations and it is to the credit of Spielberg and the writers (which happen to include Joel and Ethan Coen) that there is an intriguing amount of trick storytelling that interrupt the what could have been easily stale scenes. Actually we can look a little further into some specific scenes because it is a really good example of superior filmmaking. Take for instance the scene where James Donovan brings up the idea of representing the spy to his wife and children around the dinner table. What needs to happen in this scene is he has to tell his wife about the case and she has to voice the reasons not to do it: social shame, helping the soviets, somebody else’s problem, etc. The scene has a subplot to it. In the previous scene Donovan has his assistant cancel a dinner date to work late on the new case (it is after all just a Tuesday.) At the family dinner Donovan’s daughter reveals that she was just stood up by her boyfriend. It becomes clear that the daughter and the assistant are dating but Donovan doesn’t know it. This is pretty funny and is good for a couple of laughs. Now the interesting part: the scene ends and the daughter and the assistant are never heard from again in the entire movie. That is to say the subplot is a red herring whose sole function is to provide some laughs during the dinner table scene not because these are important characters. Or take the scene where Donovan meets the East German ambassador for the first time. The ambassador pours two drinks while his back is to Donovan. He turns around with the two glasses. The camera tilts down to look at the glasses and then tilts back up to see Hanks’ quizzical expression. This camera move and the expressions stereotypically imply that the drink might be poisoned. The drink isn’t poisoned and there will never be a poisoning in the movie but Speilberg inserted those moves in for purposes of suspense for the sake of suspense. After all the audience does not know whether the drink is poisoned (or whether the previously mentioned romantic subplot goes anywhere) so it does not really matter whether it is or not as long as the audience feels that it might be for a moment and becomes more involved in the scene. This sort of thing shows off Spielberg’s knowledge of a movie audience's general attention span. Right when a talking scene might start to get boring he will figure out a way to instill some suspense or some joke whether it has anything to do with the storyline or not and it always works. 

 

One more thing should get some notice and that is the performance of Mark Rylance as the Soviet spy Rudolph Abel. He underplays the role in such a sublime way that it becomes almost comedic. He is not afraid of the U.S. government as much as he is just resigned to everything. He does not particularly care whether he gets a defense or not. At one point he comments, “The boss is not always right, but he is always the boss.” What an incredibly Soviet thing to say. Whereas when an injustice happens to an American he may actually get mad about it or worry about the outcome. The difference I suppose is that in America our ideals and rights give us hope that justice may prevail and so a fight for justice is worth it. 

Why do I feel like somebody is trying to teach me something. Anyway good movie, Dad. 

Captain Phillips (4/5 Stars)

David v. Goliath except Goliath is the good guy and wins.

“Captain Phillips” the new movie by Paul Greengrass (United 93, The Bourne Ultimatum) starts with a conversation between Captain Phillips, played by Tom Hanks, and his wife, played briefly by Catherine Keener, in the car on the way to the airport. They are long married couple with adult children and they have a solemn conversation about how the world is changing fast and how life is not the same for their kids like it was for them. “A man could keep his head down and do his job and he would become a captain in ten years when I started,” says Phillips, “but not anymore.” Life is more complicated and these parents worry about their kids.

In true Greengrass style, this understated conversation that could realistically happen between any married couple with kids foreshadows the incredibly empathetic treatment of the pirating of the Maersk Alabama in 2009 by four Somali pirates. It is a terrifying ordeal for the unarmed American crew that was hijacked by the assault rifle wielding pirates and Greengrass shows in his strict procedural style what was truly suspenseful and dangerous about it. At the same time though, Greengrass does not ignore that the huge container ship was taken over by kids (all the pirates were between 16-18) way way over their heads. The battle of wits between the pirates and Captain Phillips is interlaced at times with a truly paternalistic feel. The kids have picked a fight with Goliath, are supremely unmatched in the long run, and will probably not make it out of the situation alive. Captain Phillips in-between moments of tricking the uncoordinated and untrained pirates with his much larger experience and far better training (along with the training of his crew also well represented in terms of heroism) gives advice to the Somalis, one in particular, a boy named Muse. He tells them several times what the best way to escape alive is almost as if he is giving advice to his own unruly children. Children, that in a far more extreme way than Phillip’s children, are living in a fast changing world (the Somali coast main economy of fishing has been trawled away by richer larger nations) where desperate crazy acts (Muse is commanded to pirate ships by armed warlords) is the difference between a bare-bones type of survival (Muse lives in a small hut with a dirt floor) and, I don’t, maybe starvation and death.  

The unfairness of the fight is demonstrated in particular by the casting of the actors. In a very tense screenplay, the American is played by two-time Oscar Winner Tom Hanks, veteran of such other realistic thrillers like Apollo 13 and Castaway. Muse is played by Barkhad Abdi in his very first movie role. Barkhad is at once frightening and pitiful to behold. Like the pirates who boarded the ship he looks like he is in a daily struggle to eat a decent meal before the day ends. He is rail thin and emaciated. One particular detail the movie contains is that the pirates left on their mission without packing food, something that was apparently routine even though they usually travelled several hundred miles off the coast. What they have instead is khat, a mild narcotic plant that suppresses appetite. Barkhad also has the gaunt eyes of a desperate man. The kind of eyes you really don’t want to see from a person waving a gun at you. Barkhad Abdi though way overmatched on paper meets Tom Hanks scene for scene. And if Tom Hanks does well enough for a Best Actor Oscar nomination (which I believe he does) than Barkhad Abdi does well enough for a Best Supporting Actor nomination.

Real life provides a dramatic ending to this story that Greengrass pulls off most thrillingly. Half way through Captain Phillips gets pulled into the lifeboat with the Somali pirates as they make their escape from the ship. It is a fool’s errand because the lifeboat goes really slow and the Somali piloting it doesn’t really know how to steer. They also won’t open up the hatch to allow air to circulate because Phillips suggested it and they don’t want to be tricked again. Captain Phillips and the four increasingly desperate and starved pirates spend so much time getting very slowly that there is enough time for a third of the US Navy and Seal Team Six to show up for the party. The last third of the movie is like a sequel to Zero Dark Thirty. Seal Team Six executes with extreme professionalism an operation in a very risky situation with incredible and effective precision. The Somalis just get absolutely stomped.

“Captain Phillips” is a very American movie. By that I mean that Paul Greengrass handling of the story is an expression of what makes the American movie superior (as opposed to say a Soviet or Chinese movie). The Somali’s may have been far out-matched by American military might, but Greengrass gives them equal treatment as characters in his story. He provides their background and explores their motivations. How easily the pirates could have been just a bunch of dumb bad guys in a piece of “us v. them” propaganda that did nothing more than demonstrate US military superiority. But Greengrass is a true American. He has respect for the underdog, that distinctly American storytelling trait.

Cloud Atlas (5/5 Stars)

Earning the Melodrama

Ultimate Truth, Matters of Life and Death, Good and Evil, Chance and Fate, Love and Hate, The Inherent Nature of Man, The Shape of Things to Come, the Natural Order of Things, The Meaning of Life. All are weighty and serious subject. But just because something is serious does not a good movie make. In fact, it is far more difficult to make a good movie out of something serious than it is to make a good movie out of something trivial.  Bad movies about weighty subjects are worse than just bad. They are disrespectful. The best example I can think of is any movie about the Holocaust. If you are going to bring that up, it better be in a great movie. It is a subject that simply should not be half-assed. In this way, I tend to judge movies like “Cloud Atlas” which contain all of the above themes in a hypercritical way. They have to earn their melodrama. 

This movie is based on the book “Cloud Atlas” by David Mitchell and has been screen-written and directed by Tom Tykwer (“Run Lola Run”) and Lana and Andy Wachowski. The Wachowski’s have made great and terrible movies before. Very rarely are they ever in between. Their best has to be “The Matrix,” a movie with such top-notch action sequences that plenty of people probably did not notice its strong currents of philosophy and theology. Their worst was “V for Vendetta,” a disturbingly obvious piece of left-wing propaganda. Both movies display exceptional talent on behalf of its directors but as Roger Ebert is wont to say, it is the best directors that often make the worst movies.

It is my pleasure than to let you know that “Cloud Atlas” is one of the best movies of the year. It is a beautiful movie of great scope and ambition that sets out to achieve many many things and succeeds in practically all of them. The little inconsistencies or confusing tidbits that do exist can be readily filed under “who gives a shit.” 

“Cloud Atlas” is composed a six different stories employing the same actors that take place in different times and places, seamlessly edited together. The first story takes place in 1849. The main character, a procurer of Maori slaves played by Jim Sturgess, takes ill on a long ocean voyage between New Zealand and England and forms an unlikely bond with a Maori stowaway.  The second story takes place in 1936 London. The main character, a young “degenerate” played by Ben Whishaw, infiltrates himself within the household of an aging composer with plans to become an invaluable apprentice before revealing his true identity as a disinherited relative. The third story takes place in 1972 Long Island. The main character, a reporter played by Halle Berry, is investigating a corporate conspiracy to cover-up an impending meltdown at a nuclear power plant. The fourth story takes place in 2012 London. The main character, a down-and-out publisher played by Jim Broadbent, comes into a stroke of good when his client murders a book critic which makes his book, "Knuckle Sandwich," become a best seller. Unfortunately the author’s thug friends want their piece of the profits and the publisher has already spent it all on old debts. The fifth story takes place in 2144 New Seoul. The main character, an artificial human made specifically for slave labor played by Doona Bae, is rescued from her fast food restaurant/prison and becomes the symbol of a violent revolution. The sixth story takes place 106 winters after an apocalyptic doom maybe on Hawaii. The main character, a pacifist goat herder played by Tom Hanks, deals with a vicious tribe (not unlike the Maori) with the help of an interstellar human trader looking for a secret among the ruins of an ancient civilization that will save her dying planet.

The greatest achievement of "Cloud Atlas" is that all of the stories are equally good and what makes them equally good is that they reside in different genres with drastically different characters and yet find a way to complement each other. Take for instance the 1936 London. It is bereft of the action found in the car chases in 1972 conspiracy thriller and the futuristic cityscapes in 2144 science fiction epic, but it forms the important musical component of the movie which finds itself in every other storyline. Or for example the idea that a single theme, let's just call it "freedom," can be explored in wildly different ways, whether it is terms of the broad comedy in the 2012 storyline which culminates in the escape attempt from a nursing home by a quartet of elderly residents to the love story in the 1936 storyline between homosexuals that earns them the rejection of society to the actual revolution against a futuristic totalitarian state in 2144. These different stories comment on each other in unexpected ways from the 1972 discovery by Halle Berry of the Cloud Atlas Sextet written in 1936 which inspires her to continue her investigation in the face of mounting danger to the 2012 spontaneous shouting of the Jim Broadbent character during his first and failed escape attempt that "Soylent Green is People!" at once an absurd and funny exclamation given the seriousness of the reference in contrast to his own situation, but also a recurring and foretelling expression of something horrifying that was true before 1849 and will become true again in 2144. 

I think it is worth just going out and saying it. "Soylent Green is People!" is a reference to cannabilism from a 1972 science fiction movie about a futuristic dystopia in an overpopulated NYC in which a mega-corporations attempts to sell people as food to unwitting consumers. Cannabalism is a major theme in "Cloud Atlas." I'm not saying you are going to see people eat people in this movie, but it is brought up several times in this movie's debate about social darwinism and the natural order of things. The historical basis of this starts in the 1849 storyline. It should be noted that the slaves on the plantation are not any regular slaves. They are the conquered Maori tribe of New Zealand, which just happened to be a tribe of vicious warriors that practiced cannabalism and had successfully conquered and eaten all the other peaceful tribes around it before the Europeans conquered and enslaved them. So when the plantation owner (Hugh Grant) gets into a philosphical discussion with the young procurer (Jim Sturgess) about the natural order of race and brings in his Maori slave butler (Keith David) to defend his case, it is actually a pretty good question. Are the weak meat that the strong do eat?

"Cloud Atlas" is a three hour movie that feels like 90 minutes. There is so much in here and the pace is so quick that it recalled my experience in watching Robert Altman's "Short Cuts." It is sort of imperative that this movie be seen on a big screen in a movie theater. The scope requires a large screen and the plot's complexity requires your full attention. To wait to see it at home on DVD or streaming would be a mistake. 

For the most part I understood everything but some of the details in the sixth story about the Hawaiian goat herder. This had largely to do with futuristic linguistics of the characters. They had tons of slang that resembled English but not enough. I must confess I did not quite understand why Hugo Weaving was dressed up as some humongous evil leprecaun that apparently only Tom Hanks could see and hear. But that is not to say I did not enjoy the sixth story as well. I garnered enough of what it was about to sort of understand what was going on. It was sort of like listening to a song by Beck. The words sounded good even when the phrases didn't make any sense. 

And as far as using the same actors to play a multitude of roles in all the different storylines, was it necessary? No, but it sure makes watching the movie a lot of fun.

Toy Story 3 (5/5 Stars) July 3, 2010

Pixar puts aside childish things. 

As Toy Story 3 opens, Andy is about to go to college. Now tall and mature, he rummages through his old toy box to see what he should take to college, put in the attic, donate, or throw away. He hasn’t played with Woody, Buzz, Rex, Slinky Dog, Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head, Hamm, Jessie, Buckeye, the army men, and the aliens from pizza planet in a long time. At the same time he hasn’t found it in his heart to get rid of them. A home video shows him at the tender age of ten rehearsing imaginative escapades with the song, “You’ve got a Friend in me,” playing in the background. For anybody who has childhood relics gathering dust in a closet somewhere (my Sunday comics collection for instance) the scene will send a nostalgic chill up your spine. There are just some memories you can’t bear to throw away.

The toys in this story, for those who live in caves, can think and talk and only pretend to be inanimate objects when humans are around. They act a bit like you think toys might act. They take on the personalities given to them by the children that play with them and the actors who lend their voices. Ken in particular follows this pattern. He is technically a straight man but he is also a girl’s toy, so he may be in love with Barbie but his personality and size of his wardrobe tend toward the feminine. The rest of this most impressive cast is as follows: Woody, voiced by everyman Tom Hanks, is a sheriff and the leader of group. Buzz Lightyear, voiced Tim Allen, is a brave space ranger action figure. Mr. Potato Head takes on the personality of its voice, Don Rickles, the king of insult comedy. Mrs. Potato Head is voiced by Estelle Harris, who you may remember from Seinfeld as George’s mother. Hamm (aka the evil Dr. Porkchop), is a piggy bank voiced by enormously laid back John Ratzenberger, the mailman from Cheers. Jessie, a cow-girl, is voiced raucously by Joan Cusack. Rex, the dinosaur, is voiced with a wild sideways lisp by Wallace Shawn, the little evil genius in The Princess Bride. R. Lee Ermey the drill instructor from Full Metal Jacket provides the voice of the army men. Joining the cast are other voices like Bonnie Hunt (a ragdoll), Jeff Garlin from Curb Your Enthusiasm (as a unicorn named “Buttercup”), the very British Timothy Dalton (as Pricklepants a toy thespian who doesn’t like coming alive because he’s trying to stay in character), Ned Beatty who seems to be channeling the totalitarian sheriff in Cool Hand Luke (as Lotso-Hugs, a big purple plush bear), Kristen Schaal from Flight of the Conchords (as a web-savvy Triceratops), and Whoopi Goldberg (as an Octopus). Finally rounding out the cast of toys are Ken and Barbie, the aliens form Pizza Planet, a psychotic monkey with cymbals, a sad clown with a tragic tale to tell, a bunch of thug action figures, an army of monkeys in a barrel, and a big really creepy baby doll. Whew, I hope I didn’t leave anyone out…Wait! There’s a slinky dog. Don’t forget the slinky dog! 

The person in charge of juggling all of these characters and giving each and every one of them their own moments, jokes, and arc is none other than Michael Arndt, the Oscar Winning screenwriter of Little Miss Sunshine. He does a truly admirable job. The movie is funny throughout, mixing comedy that simultaneously plays to both kids and adults. The plot goes something like this: There is a mix-up and the toys end up in a day care named Sunnyside. It turns Sunnyside is run by the hateful Lotso who runs the thing like a totalitarian dictatorship. The new toys are left to fend for themselves amongst toddlers who like to play rough and use finger-paints, while the older toys keep the more mature kids for themselves. The toys have to band together, form a prison break and get back to Andy.

How they do all this allows the director Lee Unkrich (Toy Story 2, Monsters Inc.) to present some Grade A action sequences. I mentioned in last week’s review that comedy/action sequences lends itself better to animation because there needs a great deal of control in order to achieve the continuity and timing needed for physical comedy. Well, watch the first scene where Mr. Potato Head hijacks a train and blows up a bridge but then Woody and Buzz save all the orphans but then evil Dr. Porkchop unleashes “Death by Monkeys,” and you will see what I mean. The explosion of the bridge is one of the best I’ve seen in a movie. I mean it is like super big. It’s a testament to what you can do when you can use computers to make the whole thing up and there’s no chance of stunt men getting hurt. The type of precision and creativity that Pixar uses in its action sequences is almost unparalleled in modern movies. The stakes are big, the fights are exciting, and you can always tell what is going on and how because Pixar uses long shots, wide angles, and applies the laws of physics. Hell, even the salsa dance that Buzz and Jessie do at the end is one of the best I’ve seen in a movie. Let’s see Antonio Banderas do that. 

The performances in this movie are powerful. In particular, Ned Beatty and Pixar have done an incredible job with Lotso. Never have I sensed such strong emotion in a cartoon. The clown who once knew him tells a sad story about a young girl who spent every moment of the day with Lotso. One day, the girl brought Lotso to a park, fell asleep, and was taken home by her parents who completely forgot to take Lotso along with them. A lost toy, Lotso somehow made it back, trudging through a thunderstorm, to the window of the girl’s home. He peered in the window and saw a replacement Lotso-Huggs bear sleeping in the bed with her. You can actually see the sense of betrayal in his face as his heart hardens. From then on, he is a toy without a soul. That huggable purple bear proves his is capable of some very bad things. Yes, Toy Story 3 is funny, heartwarming, and action-packed but it also happens to be the scariest movie Pixar has ever made. It is a very good question as to what would happen if a cartoon character was nominated for an Oscar. Who would get it: The voice actor, the animator, or both? I don’t know but the movies of Pixar are ripe for deserving such recognition. (You don’t believe me. YouTube the clip of Dory, voiced by Ellen Degeneres, in Finding Nemo trying to speak Whale. Try to tell me with a straight face that she doesn’t deserve some type of award.)

If Toy Story 3 doesn’t make you laugh as much as previous Pixar movies, it won’t because of any substantial lack of wit. What you are experiencing is what happens when a movie becomes too good to laugh at. A good example of this is Barbie’s line near the end of the movie. It is the climatic scene where the toys rise up against the evil Lotso. She speaks against Lotso’s tyranny and passionately declares, “Power in government should derive from the consent of the people!” Now this is funny for the obvious reason: Barbie is supposed to be a dumb blonde and here she is, to all the other toys’ surprise, saying something very smart. But you wouldn’t laugh too hard because it isn’t entirely obvious whether Pixar means for it to be a joke. You wouldn’t know that because the movie itself is a perfect allegory of the evils and abuses of a despotic regime and the ultimate moral superiority of democracy. I wouldn’t be surprised if North Korea or China banned this movie. It’s dangerous to assholes. But back to Barbie’s plea. Either you will find it funny or it will strike you as a profound statement of political science. Or it may strike you as both. The point is that it works all three ways. Such is the genius of Pixar. This movie is a perfect illustration of what is meant by “family entertainment.” It is the type of movie that will please every single member of the family no matter what their age.

At this point, I am in awe of how Pixar keeps on making vastly superior movies year after year after year. I take delight in seeing how much money they are making at the box office. Hopefully other studios will get greedy and start making movies at the high artistic level of Pixar. The only thing Pixar hasn’t gotten, rather unfairly I believe, is Oscar Gold. Certainly, they have several golden statues in the Best Animated Feature Film and the Best Animated Short Film but it is about time they got recognition in the categories that weren’t made especially for them. (Wall-e in particular, I felt should have won the Oscar for Best Picture in 2008. It would certainly find itself on my list as one of the 100 best movies ever made). The Academy made a mistake in having an Animated category at all. They have essentially voiced the opinion that animation should be relegated to the kiddie table while the live action adults are having dinner. That they would start this tradition during the cultural Renaissance that is Pixar is tragically ironic. In making the argument that cartoons can be considered as great art I quote Sam Jackson’s substance over form argument as he talks about the existence of miracles in Pulp Fiction: 

Vincent: Okay, so God stopped the bullets-
Jules: No, you’re judging this shit all wrong Vincent. Its not that God stopped the bullets, turned water into wine, or found my fucking car keys. What is important is that in that moment I felt the touch of God.”

The movies of Pixar routinely make me laugh heartily, enthrall me with visual delights, and move me deeply. To say that it doesn’t count as great art as much as live action movies is like saying the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes isn’t great literature or that a Richard Pryor standup routine isn’t on the level of a soliloquy by Shakespeare. All of which is complete bullshit. 

I was ten when I saw the first Pixar movie, Toy Story. I must have watched it a dozen times in a period of two years. I pulled it out again in preparation for Toy Story 3. It was still a great movie but like Andi, in the third movie, I was now looking back at those toys as an adult who has put aside childish things. If like Andi and I on the eve of college, you also boarded up the remaining vestiges of your childhood and consoled your mother when she noticed how empty your room was, you might just cry a little. I eagerly await the next movie by Pixar, the best storytellers of my generation. 

Note: The animated short that precedes this movie, Day and Night, is as good as any other animated short Pixar has made. They deserve yet another Oscar for Best Animated short film.

Angels and Demons (3/5 Stars) August 26, 2009

Convoluted Exposition interrupted by Chases and Executions! 


The second movie adapted from a novel by Dan Brown, author of “The Da Vinci Code.” Ron Howard directs and Tom Hanks returns as symbology professor extraordinaire Robert Langdon. This time he is not exposing a Vatican conspiracy, he is saving it from a secret cult named the Illuminati, which apparently has somehow kidnapped four cardinals and placed a time bomb in the form of antimatter device that they stole from the CERN laboratory in Switzerland. The Illuminati will kill the four cardinals in four different churches in Rome every hour until midnight when the bomb will go off and the entire Vatican will be disintegrated. The Catholic Church, apparently unaware of the Illuminati, calls on Professor Langdon to explain Church history to them. Since there is a time bomb ticking, Langdon does so in a breathless highly abbreviated (at least in comparison to the book) way. He explains that there is a riddled maze through Rome that will lead to the Secret Illuminati meeting hall where they will find the cardinals. The way is found by following the pointer fingers of sculptures of Angels that were made by an Illuminati sculptor (Bernini in this case). Langdon knows exactly where to look for the start of the maze, the notes of Galileo in the massive Vatican Archives. 

Does this sound like it was just completely made up to you. I wouldn’t be surprised. I mean if it wasn’t for a lifetime of Catholic school education and a year abroad in Italy very little of this would sound familiar to me. I know who Bernini is. Do you? Probably not right? It’s not common knowledge that he was a Baroque sculptor that did a lot of commissions from the Vatican in the 17th century. Unfortunately the movie has no time to explain why the guy was cool or important. Or why for that matter why he would be an Illuminati. He gets about three lines of dialogue explaining him before Langdon and the police need to get in their cars and rush off to the next Roman church on their manhunt/sightseeing tour. This is the main problem when trying to adapt a Dan Brown novel. Dan Brown’s novels are a unique combination of arcane knowledge, riddles, and action scenes. It’s a bit like art history on crack. But when you try to take the book and make it into a movie, the professorial academic parts (the very things that give the action scenes their purpose) are lost somewhat. Watching Professor Langdon in this movie I was truly taken aback by his Batman-ish ability to decipher codes in about a second’s time. In the book, Langdon’s thought process is much slower and deliberative. Brown takes the time to inform the reader of all the clues and provides several different explanations for confusing symbols. Then because the book is a book and not a movie it gives the reader a chance to pause his reading and perhaps try to find out the riddle themselves before Langdon has a chance. This is perhaps why a Dan Brown novel will never be as good as the book. It’s because the action movie is so fast paced that it inherently robs the audience’s ability to think long and hard about the kinds of complicated riddles that a Brown novel usually employs. Langdon’s cinematic ability to figure the clues out in a split second beat me every time. Add to that the situation we find in this movie, where the subject matter is so arcane and old that nobody in the audience will know what the riddle is even about before Tom Hanks gives the exasperated answer. And then it is so dumb-downed and simplified to save time; we can’t even critically assess it to see if it has any soundness to any logical historical context. We just sort of have to take his word for it. Having read the book I can testify that a lot of very interesting stuff had to be cut out. It’s a shame that a most of it had to do with the science part in this ‘science-religion’ feud. The very idea of anti-matter as the evidence of the God-particle that will or will not prove God’s existence in the Big Bang is gone into such important depth in the book. In the movie it is gleaned over and the importance is lost. The anti-matter is simply just another type of bomb. Again I felt that Catholic Church got preferential treatment in the adaptation of “Angels and Demons” just like it got in the adaptation of “The Da Vinci Code.” I don’t think it was purposeful, its just that for these underground theories to have any conviction in them they really need a chapter’s persuasion not just a scene. 

I must confess though that seeing the Catholic Church in a blockbuster is a sort of thrill in it of itself. The Church as everyone knows is presently the longest running institution on the face of this Earth. In that time it has accumulated a lot of incredible art, architecture, and mysteries. It is the perfect backdrop for an action picture. The movie does a very good job of recreating the extraordinary Vatican and Sistine Chapel. We also get to see the Pantheon, St. Peter’s Square, Castle de Angelos, and several other great Roman landmarks. Spectacle is provided in the murder of four cardinals and a giant explosion above the Vatican all intertwined within the structure of a fast-paced mystery plot to find a ticking time bomb that will destroy the entire church. Ron Howard may have found it impossible to make do with the professorial parts of the book but he did do a very good job with the action parts. 

Charlie Wilson's War 01/19/08

This year we have had a slew of movies about the current situation in the middle east. I have only seen one of them, 'In the Valley of Elah." but there was also 'Redacted, 'Lions for Lambs,' 'Rendition,' and 'The Kite Runner.' All of these movie garnered minor praise and little box office. The Kite Runner being the exception, getting good praise but still no box office. Based on my viewing of 'In The Valley of Elah' I don't think it was because people just didn't want see movies about the war. These movies, made in the midst of the war just weren't that good. They talked in circles and lacked focus. We should keep in mind that the best war movies (Apocalypse Now, Platoon, Saving Private Ryan) were made many years after the war. Those years are required, I think, to give the story much needed clarity. There is something called the fog of war. If we are to produce a great movie about the Iraq war, I believe it won't be coming to theaters any time soon. For that reason 'Charlie Wilson's War' which takes place in the late 1980's is probably the most informative movie about the current war than all the otherwise mentioned movies in this review. It provides a clear background to how the situation got so screwed up in the first place. 

Charlie Wilson's War is about the American response to the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, and by American I mean Texas Congressman Charlie Wilson (Tom Hanks), a really rich reactionary Joanne Herring (Julia Roberts), and about four guys from the CIA (Headed by Phillip Seymour Hoffman). This small group of people managed to get 1 billion dollars in military aid to the Afghanis via Pakistan, Egypt, and Israel. How they did it constitutes this very detailed and specific movie.

It can be offputting sometimes to recognize that the people portrayed on the movie screen are more intelligent, powerful, richer, and better looking than yourself. Sometimes as I watched this movie I felt out of touch and stupid. Everyone in this movie is at least five to ten times more experienced in everything than I am, they go places I haven't been and they have the balls to do shit I wouldn't imagine. That isn't the movie being egotistical, it's just the story being true to itself. Only extraordinary people could pull this off, and in real life it was pulled off by extraordinary people. Aaron Sorkin, a very gifted screenwriter, does a splendid job of writing a very intelligent and funny script.

Hanks and Roberts are very good as always but Phillip Seymour Hoffman gives the best performance I think. I have seen this guy in numerous films. Each time he's a completely different person. Looking at this movie I am left wondering how many people he has left in him. When you take this role as a gruff CIA officer and compare it with the likes of Capote, or the gay dude in Boogie Nights, or even Brad in The Big Lebowski, it is apparent that Hoffman has extraordinary range. Probably the most out of any actor alive today. 

The last thing I want to commend is the ending of this film that still resonates with me as I write this review. It amazes me that the US would fund a 1 billion dollar war but then wouldn't spare 1 million to rebuild the school system of war ravaged Afghanistan. This oversight of course would lead to the Taliban and Osama Bin Laden and could be said as the direct cause that we are in that country today. Unlike the other war movies this year, Charlie Wilson's War excels because it knows the ending of the tale. Therefore it can give us a moral to the story direct from Charlie himself: "What was done were glorious achievements...and then we fucked up the end game." Another lesson to be learned: An ounce of prevention is worth a pound in cure.