by | February 26, 2011 · 12:05 am

I Am Number Four – Twilight + Michael Bay + Smallville

Twilight + Michael Bay = I Am Number Four

This is the entertainment business, and you know, they try, but probably the most entertaining thing about this movie was how it came to be. There are a lot of great films based on books, and even more great books deserving film adaptations, but rather than take a literary success and bring it to the big screen, Dreamworks decided to buy the rights to, of all things, I Am Number Four. Oh yeah, and they purchased them a year before it was even published! All because James Frey, author of A Million Little Pieces, decided to start a fiction franchise that pumps out books and movies that could be marketed to teens.

Our early attempts at a tractor beam went through several preparations. Preparations A through G were a complete failure. But now, ladies and gentlemen, we finally have a working tractor beam, which we shall call... Preparation H.

But hey, why not? It was bound to be a success. A young man escapes a planet just as it’s being destroyed, ending up in a quaint town in Kansas Ohio where he attempts to live a normal life, only to find that he possesses superpowers, which really throw a kink in his small-town romance. That exact story has already worked out once — why not a second time? All you need to do is get the creators of Smallville to write the script, toss in some beautiful people and a few Michael Bay explosions, and you’ve got yourself a hit.

I Am Number Four opens on a scene of said beautiful people partying at the beach. Our hero, John Smith (Alex Pettyfer), is having a blast with all his buddies, and even gets invited to a sexy swim with the school hottie, where she delivers such lovely dialogue as “The big dipper. It’s my favorite.” I doubt she could even name another constellation, but that’s neither here nor there, because suddenly a scar on John’s leg emits a blinding light, signaling that Number Three is dead. For some reason that may or may not be explained in the book but certainly isn’t in the movie, the survivors of planet Lorien can only be killed in order, so it’s time for Number Four to go on the run. He and his protector, Henri (Timothy Olyphant, whose last name always reminds me of Lord of the Rings), burn all their belongings and hit the road, but an eeeeevil gecko sneaks onto their truck.

Their flight leads them to Paradise, Ohio, where the gecko turns into a cute puppy…of DEATH! At least, that’s what I kept expecting. But when the puppy passed up numerous opportunities to transform into a horrible monster and slay everyone, I ended up just being pretty confused about why they built up so much suspense.

Puppies aren’t the only danger in Paradise, however. There’s also Sarah (Dianna Agron), the school sweetheart. There’s an alliterative joke in there somewhere. Something like “dogs are dangerous, but nothing can match the peril of the…” I don’t know, some word for cat.

Anyway, Sarah is an irresistible cliché, the blonde who dated the quarterback of the football team until she picked up photography, thus gaining a lens into the soul and learning the true meaning of love. At least the quarterback is original, except for the fact that he beats up science nerds and can’t understand why Sarah doesn’t want him and hates John for moving in on his territory. And the science nerd isn’t just a science nerd. He happens to have a dad who was totally abducted by aliens so he’s obsessed with rooting out all extraterrestrials at the school. All this is nothing at all like Smallville, because in that show, the blonde photographer is the same person who wants to root out the mystery behind the alien occurrences, and a different character is the love interest.

I feel bad bashing this formula so much, because I have to admit, the characters really were hot, which is what really matters. Dianna Agron of Glee fame is a girl next door of no compare, and Alex Pettyfer is, undeniably, a beautiful piece of man. I mean, in his next movie, he literally plays a guy whose main character trait is that he’s really really ridiculously good looking. Based on that alone, I figured I’d be able to enjoy their romance, but man, was I wrong. This was supposed to be a superhero movie, dammit, and we end up sitting through more than an hour of plodding romance with no action whatsoever. And it’s not good romance either. It’s just like Twilight: all meaningful looks, lip biting, and a thirst for blood.

Maybe not the last one so much, but when this movie wasn’t Smallville, it really was Twilight. The main guy has a secret that makes him an outsider at the school, but a beautiful girl is intrigued by his mystery and they fall for each other. And Loriens, unlike humans, only fall in love once and it lasts. Isn’t it romantic? Blehck. Males everywhere will squirm in their seats. On the other hand, it’s a perfect date movie. The guys will be excited to go, the girls will acquiesce, and then the girls will be so pleasantly surprised by the fact that the guy took them to a chick flick that they’re sure to sleep with them. Except studies show that scary movies are much more likely to get you laid, so oh well.

Although the whole first hour had me teetering on the edge of boredom, what’s scary is how much I actually ended up liking the movie, because, you see, the last 20 minutes kick so much ass! The action sequence is the only place you feel like Michael Bay was attached to this, and it shows. Number Six (Teresa Palmer) arrives, and she’s this hot, sarcastic Aussie girl with wavy blonde hair who can kill the evil Mogadorians like nobody’s business and deliver one-liners right after. She slides on her knees, hamstringing baddies while Number Four deflects plasma gun blasts with his hands, shooting them back at his foes. Six can turn invisible and teleport and generate a fire shield and all this sick stuff. Which brings up the question, why is John’s main superpower the ability to turn his hands into flashlights? I mean, like, I guess that would be sort of useful, but I’d way rather be able to turn invisible. The movie has to find all these excuses to have the battles take place in dark places so that John’s power is useful, and it’s amusing to see how often they work it in.

Number Six was so cool that she saved the movie.The fact that she arrived at the end meant that I left feeling super stoked, which colored my whole experience with such a positive light that I couldn’t help but enjoy myself. I don’t know why she wasn’t in the movie the entire time. Having someone fun and sarcastic was exactly what the plot needed to keep it from taking itself, and the romance, way too seriously.

So, way too much slow, clumsy romance (and don’t get me wrong. I love Titanic and The Notebook), and not nearly enough action, but the premise is good enough (even if it’s stolen straight from Superman), and when the fighting actually starts, it’s awesome (explosions, fireballs, plasma guns, giant winged monsters). If they made a sequel, I would definitely see it. Therefore, I give I Am Number Four:

3/5¢

Why did John decide to reveal himself to so many people in Paradise? The film made it look like he’d had a ton of close friends at his old school, but the second they found out about him, he fled. Within days of moving to Ohio, he was willing to confide in all sorts of people. Seems pretty fickle for a Lorien who’s supposed to bond forever, but maybe that same fickleness will mean that Number Six is a love interest later. Who wouldn’t pick Number Six over Sarah? Honestly.

Written by Russ Nickel

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by | February 24, 2011 · 8:39 pm

OPINION :: ON BEATING MOVIES

I hate watching movies with my mother.

Long after I outgrew the clichéd, pubescent humiliation of spending any time whatsoever with your parents (lest a friend see you together at the theater), I still hate it. When I visit her North Florida condominium for the holidays, I’ll express disinterest in her wanting to rent DVDs. If we go to the theater, I need to make sure my brother on break from college sits between us. That’s not to say my mother is not my friend; rather, I’m proud to say I maintain what I consider a very good relationship with her. It’s just movies. Because, if I’m caught with her in a film neither of us have seen, without fail, she’ll lean over fifteen minutes in and say something along the lines of, “The lieutenant’s the killer, just watch.”

My mother, along with countless other people with whom I’ve shared a film, needs to beat the movie. As if it’s a fucking Sudoku puzzle that’s timing you on how quickly and accurately you can predict its plot. I’m all for puzzles, but paying $11 to sit in the dark trying to anticipate the screenwriter’s subscription to and/or intentional deviation from Hollywood tropes is not my idea of fun. While I’m ostensibly bothered by my mother and similar friends obnoxiously insisting on sharing their genius (to make sure there’s someone to whom they can say “I told you so” when the lights come on), I have a more principled disappointment with her apparent approach to motion pictures as a mental conundrum with an answer rather than as an emotive experience with an aftermath. Full disclosure, I used to be guilty of this same flaw; I was also twelve years old.

Likewise, I’m in ninth grade, eating lunch in the cafeteria of my humid youth. I had just been broken the night before by the soul-crushing execution scene in The Green Mile. I’m declaring unequivocally to my friends, in the voice of a 14-year-old who knows everything, that, if you don’t cry at the end of The Green Mile, you don’t have a soul. A few of my friends, ones whose having older siblings granted them access to R-rated pictures by age nine, shrugged. “I didn’t cry during that scene.” “Me neither.” “I didn’t cry.”

Nick chimes in, “I jerked off to it.”

I don’t know what else I was expecting. These were the “cool kids,” and it’s not cool to cry at the movies, duh. Why is that? Because crying is a sign of weakness? Of childishness? I would argue it’s more immature to spend two and a half hours and an amount of money just to sit there and prove that you’re tough. What a waste of time, simply because you are unwilling to let yourself go and enjoy the experience. The same with horror flicks, the same with comedies. Why must a movie be defeated with the awful weapon of stoicism or the dismissal of a faux-sophisticate? Have you ever ridden an insane roller coaster and stumbled off smiling, loose and light-footed, only to have your buddy dismiss it with a “Meh. It was alright, I guess. Didn’t do anything for me.” To go into a film trying not to be scared, not to cry, not to laugh, not to be surprised! Does the sensation of genuine emotion make you feel vulnerable, or do you just wish to convince yourself that you’re above something?

Admittedly, the most open mind in the world can’t make some things powerful, scary, or unexpected; some movies just suck. No matter how much you try to ignore story conventions, no matter how much you try to view a film on its own free of outside influence — no matter how stupid you make yourself — some twists will be obvious or nonsensical. Jokes will fall flat; scares will become jokes. But allowing oneself to experience every film to its fullest, whether it be a revelation or a trifle, simply allows you to enjoy life more. The alternative is pointless. Furthermore, having a low threshold of enjoyment does not lessen one’s taste for masterpieces. Liking Ratner does not forbid me from appreciating Kubrick.

So, please, for your own sake, stop trying to beat not just movies, but any work of art. It is within your power to render yourself powerless before the emotional torrent of film. I steadfastly refuse that one universal truth: “Haters gon’ hate.”

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by | February 22, 2011 · 1:54 am

The King’s Speech:

Just in case you’re wondering what on Earth I’m talking about, here’s what I was going for.

King George VI’s Original Speech, 1939 vs. The King’s Speech Review

Man, it is impossible to record youtube videos with a laptop mic and camera…

Written by Russ Nickel

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by | February 13, 2011 · 1:25 am

True Grit – Cowboys Acting Serious

I never rightly expected True Grit to send me a trampin’ through the wilderness on a journey o’ my own, pittin’ me against man and nature, but when I found m’self parked at the wrong movie theater, my life transformed into a most dire adventure. I’d already paid the meter 45 cents; if I reparked now, those coins would’ve given of themselves fer nothin’. I stood, perplexed, until my cousin said he knew the where’bouts of the other theater. We put aside our differences, he one o’ them proud college types, me a lowly alcoholic, and set out together, our common goal keepin’ our travel civil.

We sprinted through them streets, never heedin’ the warnings o’ the people we flew past. We ran and we ran, like we was on the dodge, all the while knowin’ we was never gonna make it, but then, suddenly, the theater came into view, and what a sight it was. We raced down the stairs, and before we knew it, we was inside. But I still had to acquire m’self some sustenance. I didn’t have time for decisions, so I told the girl behind the counter, “Get me some popcorn, lady. Whichever size is best.” She seemed miffed and did not act until I specified. Once I did, she moved ponderous slow and would not hand over the bag until I done tell her whether I wanted butter. I said I was watchin’ my figure, so no thank you ma’am, but my cousin, see, he wanted just a bit, so he asks for it. She musta been right spiteful, because she poured on more butter than I ever did see and handed it over with a glare in her eye.

Our old-west style journey finally over, my cousin and I settled into our seats, sitting right next to a young couple and thus unintentionally ruining their chances of making out the whole time.

In my opinion, True Grit received way too much acclaim. Its award-worthy acting and snappy, well-written dialogue were the stuff of Best Pictures, and critics and average moviegoers were drawn to this, forgetting that there’s more to movies than just acting and dialogue. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much more to this movie. Where was the plot? Where was the character development? Where was the emotion?

The plot was slow and predictable. True Grit is basically just a buddy cop movie augmented with a precocious little girl. In order to fit the Hollywood standard, the girl is required to succeed, the two buddies must have flaws that are counterpoints to each others, and the main characters must have a falling out, only to put aside their differences right before the climax. True Grit follows this plotline exactly, but the Coen brothers try to hide that fact behind high production values and a not 100% happy ending. By making the girl lose an arm, the brothers hope to shift this movie from trope to trophy.

Because the plot was so obvious, I never once feared for the characters, and if you’re never afraid of what might happen, there’s no emotional tension. You end up with a movie that’s logically good but emotionally uninspired. Sure, the little girl was smart for her age and very determined, but they spent like an hour building up that character. How many times do I have to watch her barter? She starts off precocious, and she ends precocious. By the time the closing credits rolled around, the only thing she’d learned was how to function with one less arm.

Rooster Cogburn (Jeff Bridges) is a totally wasted character. Get it? But seriously, he had so much potential. He’s this badass marshal who’s seen better days and now pisses away all his money on booze. Jeff Bridges plays him so well, but he just doesn’t have enough to work with. He could have started out down in the dumps, been inspired by this girl, lost his newfound faith, and then come through in the end. That’s basically what happens, except that they never sell you on his character arc. You can from tell the beginning that he’s still just as hardcore as ever. You never truly believe that he’s given up, and when he finally saves the day it’s just not surprising.

Maybe it’s a little more realistic this way, but it’s like the Coen brothers decided the only way to achieve realism was to sacrifice character and plot. Nothing interesting happens until well into the film when Cogburn and the girl come upon a cabin and kill some shady characters. Sure, it might be realistic for nothing to happen, but we don’t go to the theater for nothing; we go for a good story. Also in the name of realism, the main villain is painted as a sort of normal guy. Well that’s great, except I don’t care about watching Mattie Ross track down someone normal. I want higher stakes!

True Grit had high production values, great acting, wonderful dialogue, and a good sense of the Old West. What it did not have was an interesting plot, good character arcs, high stakes, or any semblance of emotional connection. Because the things that made it good are usually lauded by critics and people who think too highly of themselves, this movie has received largely positive reviews, but in my opinion, it simply wasn’t entertaining. And art, be it good or bad, serious or light-hearted, meaningful or shallow, must do one thing, and that is entertain. I was teetering on the edge of boredom throughout, and therefore, I give True Grit:

2.5/5¢

Alignment: Standard Gold

I know this is a nitpick, but why did that guy cut off his partner’s fingers before immediately stabbing him in the chest? That’s just unnecessary!

Written by Russ Nickel

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by | February 5, 2011 · 12:08 am

Easy A – A Better Late Than Never Review

So I saw Easy A last week, a few months after its theater run. It’s not a movie I’d normally see of my own volition, but it was a free showing, Emma Stone is hot, and since Easy A got decent reviews I figured it was safe to temporarily expose myself. And I’d like to make clear in advance that I knew what I was getting myself into. And it’s not really fair of me to begrudge the film its genre conventions. But they opened themselves up to it by openly acknowledging them, so I’m going to call this one fair game.

Emma Stone stars as an intelligent, unassuming hot girl, a cipher for all the bookish white teens watching. After lying about losing her virginity to best friend Michalka, Stone attracts the attention of their school’s stunningly efficient rumor mill (played with rigidly rehearsed efficiency by Steadicam operator Geoffrey Haley). Evidently this is a huge deal, and Stone is immediately labeled a harlot and shameless hussy by the school’s ardent, very vocal religious community.

Through a series of convenient coincidences incorporated to ease digestion of the plot, Stone chooses to embrace and perpetuate this rumor, first to protect her totally gay friend, and then because she pities a fat, sniveling stereotype. She proceeds to take payment for lying about her sexual escapades in the form of gift cards. This is doubly efficient because

1) It’s topical (Gift cards! I got like five of ‘em for Christmas!), and

2) It’s not real money, so you don’t have to explicitly address the fact that your protagonist has essentially become a prostitute.

One montage of wry commercial transactions later, and Emma Stone’s bad-girl behavior has gone too far. She doesn’t know who she is anymore, everything’s so messed up. Except it isn’t, because the nice-guy childhood crush trusts her version of events and actually really likes her. Together they stage an elaborate dance number in the gym on the day of the big basketball game to announce her live webcast explaining everything and clearing her name.

So basically, Easy A is exactly like every high school rom-com ever except for the fact that it was made in 2010 and therefore must exhibit an awareness of the culmination of pop culture that’s preceded it. I lost track of how many times the film winkingly referred to the fact that the plot was “just like one of those cheesy 80’s movies”, as if acknowledgement of that fact exonerated it of any derivativeness. Usually this meta-commentary was through Emma Stone’s webcast voice over. If this reach at “topical” youth culture wasn’t insulting enough, the narration is consistently used to repair lazy screenwriting, caulking in all the signposts and plot advancements the acting neglected to include.

Now, “meta” is something of a joke nowadays cuz it’s rampant, but it can be used effectively. In Easy A, it is not. Stone’s observations point out the creakings  of the plot machine and justify a couple homage moments, but the only element of meta wedded to the plot is the fact that it’s framed as a webcast. The movie doesn’t take it any further than that.

Think about this for a moment. There’s actually a lot going on here. It’s a mesh of the Scarlet Letter and 80s comedies set in the nascent technological wonderland of the 21st century. You could go to town on themes of vouyerism and spectacle; you’d even be able to implicate the viewers of the film for going to see a story about a hot promiscuous girl. The more I think about it, the more I realize this plot had a lot of potential.

Despite what my criticism may communicate, the movie wasn’t terrible. It was thoroughly average and even funny at times. When I think about how awesome it could have been, the mediocrity stings me more than an awful movie would. Easy displays the bare minimum of effort, the movie equivalent of fast food. It stands in the shadow of older, better works of art, offering no commentary or innovation. The pretense of meta-comedy becomes a shield the writers use to defend lazy and strategic screenwriting. What we see here is a cookie-cutter script developed for an up-and-coming marketable actress. It’s a remake of Mean Girls, with a Lindsay Lohan who hopefully wont self-destruct.

Every character is a stereotype chosen with formulaic calculation. Amanda Bynes plays an idiotic evangelical included to provide the opposing viewpoint with a villifiable antagonist. Dan Byrd is the non-threatening gay friend who shows up when the plot requires him. Penn  Badgley (listed as “Woodchuck Todd”) plays a love interest whose defining character trait is that he wears funny things. Thomas Hayden Church stole his deadpan teacher shtick straight from Tim Meadows. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they wrote in Stone’s adopted brother when they started shooting, took a look at the cast and said, “oh shit, we need a black person!”

There was some stuff for me to love. Stone’s protagonist is a bookworm, and so her jokes often appealed to the English major in me.  Her parents are pretty funny. But the few gems that existed were quips, shoehorned into static scenes chosen for convenience of shooting rather than any inherent interest. While their words may have been objectively funny, they were in a story without energy or momentum.

This overall laziness is evidenced by the sloppiness of the film’s exposition. The writers didn’t go to any trouble to embed the plot in the film, leading to moments like the Turning Point, where Stone’s scandalous behavior goes too far. What happens is the school counselor, who happens to be the wife of Stone’s English teacher, gives gonorrhea to a student who happens to be “going steady” with Amanda Bynes. The student implicates Stone because she’s an easy target, who agrees to corroborate the alibi because she cares deeply about preventing her favorite teacher from discovering that his marriage is a sham and he should probably get tested for gonorrhea. I could delve further into why this is absurd, but the main point is that none of this is set up or explained before it’s all dumped on us at once. We only learned that the school counselor existed about five minutes ago. We didn’t even know that she and another major character were married until one of them got gonhorrea.

This isn’t an isolated incident. It happens regularly, with Stone’s wry narration “reminding” us of three more things that weren’t mentioned before but are now vitally important to the advancement of the plot.

And part of me thinks maybe I missed something, and in actuality the whole movie went over my head. All these crazy coincidences and random plot elements, all the stereotypical cardboard cutouts, they’re all part of some grand deconstructionist joke that I was too judgmental to miss. Maybe all the random stuff that happens is just a reflection of the chaos of real life. Or maybe they just had a tight deadline.

2.5/5 Stars

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by | January 31, 2011 · 7:48 am

Season of the Witch – Demons, Camp, and Nicolas Cage

As anyone who knows me is well aware, I’m a self-professed masochist; if there’s an opportunity for me to experience something excruciating, I jump at it (keep that in mind, ladies). Obviously, when I saw that Season of the Witch had an abysmal 4% on Rotten Tomatoes, I simply couldn’t resist. I quickly found out, however, that I was sort of in the minority on this one (who knew?!)—after petitioning all of my friends, only one was intrepid enough to brave the theaters with me. We planned the trip for early Friday morning, our mounting excitement making Thursday’s sleep an ephemeral affair. I awoke that day to an act of God. In his infinite wisdom, he had bestowed upon me a migraine most malicious in an effort to prevent one of his flock from the even greater pain of watching Nicolas Cage play a disillusioned Knight in a fantasy movie.

But I am not a God-fearing man, and so, despite the advice of my friends, despite the admonitions of the critics, despite the wind and the cold and the rain, despite even the divine hand of God himself, I rose from the beanbag chair that was my bed and journeyed forth toward almost certain disappointment. After all, if The Last Airbender, a memory better left forgotten, had received a 7%, what hope did Season of the Witch have? I met Dphil, the intrepid friend, at the gates and handed my ticket to the clerk, who, with his snarling remarks, unkempt hair, and bared teeth, could have (save for the two missing heads) passed for the guardian Cerberus. My companion and I took our seats and surveyed the scene. I have to be honest with you here. It’s a little disconcerting when the only other people in the theater are an old man by himself, a huge lady in a squeaky wheelchair being led by a group of friends, and someone who probably rides the short bus and kept babbling and mumbling incoherently. I mean no offense. It was simply an odd crowd.

Season of the Witch is set in England during the Crusadin’ times. After a quick intro that proves witches to be all too real, we get a montage of battles in which the knights Behmen (Nicolas Cage) and Felson (Ron Perlman) kill many non-innocents, then finally, after ten years, kill some innocents. Ten years before the first undeserved death? Very impressive. Disillusioned, Behmen and Felson desert the army only to end up in a town ravaged by the plague, which is apparently caused by a hot young vixen who’s got this sexy witch vibe goin’ on. Setup complete, our two warrior heroes join forces with an elderly knight and the priest Debelzaq (Stephen Campbell Moore), ready to transport the sorceress. At this point, my buddy turns to me and says, “I can’t believe they don’t have a rogue in their party!” Seconds later, Nicolas Cage goes, “We need a guide!” and of course the only person who can guide them is the lock-picking ne’er-do-well swindler, Hagamar (Stephen Graham). Dungeons and Dragons team assembled, they set out for an ancient monastery, for only there can the monks cast out the witch and end the plague.

One of the better aspects of Season of the Witch is the way it keeps you guessing. It utilizes the tried-and-true “Is she a witch or isn’t she” method to keep the audience interested, though I don’t understand why the characters never thought to simply compare the girl’s weight to that of a duck. Anyway, partway through, it simply tells you the answer. I’ve tried to craft this review in a similar style. Is Season of the Witch good, or is it not? I guess I’ve probably been leaning a little too obviously toward the “not” side, but the movie has a surprisingly good twist, and so do I. Season of the Witch was actually good! Maybe it was just because anything was better than the pain of a migraine, maybe it was because I was delirious from lack of sleep, or maybe it’s because I just can’t resist Nicolas Cage’s entertainingly unemotional acting, but I enjoyed the hell out of this movie (like how those monks exorcised the hell out of that girl! Get it?).

Sure, it was a little bit predictable in parts, but that just made it more surprising when it caught me off guard. Yes, there was the obligatory bridge-crossing scene, with boards cracking and plummeting below the characters’ feet as ropes twisted and frayed, but it was reasonably well done, and, more importantly, it wasn’t there just for the sake of unnecessary suspense—the girl saves one of the characters from falling to his death, casting further doubt on her motivations. Yes, witch girl ostensibly summons a bunch of wolves to kill our heroes, but you find out later that there was more at play than you’d ever imagined. The fight scenes were pretty entertaining, I was constantly creeped out by how I was both creeped out by and attracted to the main girl, and unlike stupid The Last Airbender, the movie was surprisingly well paced. Plus, the final battle was pretty awesome. I mean seriously, what’s cooler than fighting a horde of cloaked, plague-ridden, undead monks who have boils all over their faces and battle with fearsome hooks in a room that’s on fire and filled with shelves of scrolls that go flying whenever someone’s thrown into them? All this while a priest epically incants an unnerving Latin ritual in the background, hoping to slay the giant winged demon that seeks to end all human life.

I honestly don’t see how this movie got so many negative reviews. The dialogue was a little campy, especially the lines delivered by Hagamar, like “This damn fog is like a veil before my eyes,” or directly after, “I can’t see my hand in front of my face.” As cliché as some of it might have been, Season of the Witch had enough new ideas that, when coupled with a hot girl, some twists and scares, and a general sense of fun, it ended up being well worth the price of a matinee ticket.

Don’t just take my word for it, though. I have proof that this was a “great” film. You see, I was so totally engaged that I didn’t even notice that, by the end of the film, everyone else had walked out! If that’s not hard evidence, I don’t know what is. The credits rolled and I looked around, extremely pleased that I’d decided to see such a fine film, only to find that there was literally no one in the theater. Had they ever even been there? How could I not hear someone get creakily wheeled out of the room? How could I not notice the babbling babbler leave the theater? Where did the old man go?! I was sure a witch had cursed me. Like I said, it must have been a damn good movie! I’d been looking forward to being able to tear this film apart, but I walked out of the theater perplexed: How was I supposed to write an entertaining review now? Just then, Dphil turned to me, and, as if he could see into my soul, said, “Russ, you’re just going to have to use nuance.” And, as you, the reader, are my witness, this is a review so nuanced that it knows no equal. I braved the wrath of God and more to bring it to you and returned from my quest unharmed (which, for a masochist, is rather disappointing). Someday, I hope to craft a movie of my own with as much nuance and subtlety as Season of the Witch, but until then, I must simply award it:

3.5/5¢

Alignment: Spectacular Crap

Honestly, the worst thing about this movie was the way the sound kept cutting in and out. Perhaps it was another attempt by God to intervene, but I brazenly ignored him, sitting through what seemed like the worst dubbing ever because, dammit, I paid good money for this!

Written by Russ Nickel

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by | January 19, 2011 · 12:10 am

The Green Hornet – Cameron Diaz Attempts to Act

In an effort to battle the exorbitant cost of 3D movies (especially the ones that undergo 3D conversion post-production), I went to the Sunday matinee showing of The Green Hornet. I don’t know if that’s really the optimal environment for a superhero movie, but I do know that I felt super awesome seeing a movie by myself in a theater lightly sprinkled with moms. What made me even more awesome was my flirtation with the cute ticket taker and cashier, only to have them realize that I was friendless at the movies and therefore genetically undesirable for the production of offspring. But hey, free parking downtown on Sundays! Which makes me wonder…how many of those moms were actually angry San Luis Obispo meter maids?

As my stylish RealD glasses weighed down on my nose (which, by the end of the movie, was acting rather affronted), the previews drew to a close, and what followed was a moderately entertaining film. By no means a perfect creation, The Green Hornet lived up to its Buzz with charm enough to overcome the fact that it was little more than a souped-up, buddy-cop movie. While its generic overarching plot had a bit of originality Nested here and there, what really kept things aloft was Seth Rogen’s light-hearted tone and performance. Britt Reid (Seth Rogen) and Kato (Jay Chou) were fun characters to watch and had pretty good chemistry. I believed their friendship, their obligatory fallout, and their eventual reconciliation, and I laughed out loud at lines like “Do some of that Ben Hur shit!” Sadly, I was the only one who laughed during the entire movie. Man, those parking enforcement officers really don’t have souls.

As always, Cameron Diaz was totally useless. She is the Queen of inane, managing to evoke a sense of lifelessness in every role. She Bumbles through her character, Droning on and basically adding nothing. At least it was a new take on the love interest. She wasn’t really interested, and neither was she interesting. In fact, I feel like she was almost more objectified this way. Rather than either of the main characters forming a connection with her, she simply served as a vehicle for Britt and Kato’s argument. I guess that’s what they get for trying to stick their Proboscises where they don’t belong.

Speaking of vehicles, the Black Beauty was one of the most badass cars ever. The sheer number of weapons and gadgets made it the coolest thing since MIB’s red button. What wasn’t particularly badass was the bad guy. In an attempt at humor, the villain constantly worried about his image and his hard-to-pronounce name, and he was right to. He just wasn’t intimidating. I never felt the Sting of real fear or the sweet Nectar of joy at any point during the film.

One of the more interesting stylistic choices comes partway through the movie when the villain puts a bounty on the Green Hornet’s head. The shot then enters an ever-expanding split screen as word of the reward spreads through all the different circles of evil, from the Thorax of malcontent to the Mandibles of hate. Watching the sheer number of thugs on the screen grow as they receive their mission really does add a sense of dread to an otherwise threat-free story. More and more split-screens kept showing up until I was so overwhelmed that I couldn’t keep track of them anymore. I waited for the repercussions of this onslaught, only to watch as the group of villains murdered a ton of innocent people wearing green and then never reappeared. And just like that, the sense of dread was gone.

The Green Hornet was basically fun. It doesn’t take itself too seriously, and there’s some entertaining action and comedy. In no way does it surpass expectations, however, and many other films are better able to embrace the genre. If you’ve got some extra cash and a bunch of guys are sitting around bored, it might be worth checking this out, but otherwise you should probably just wait until it’s on Netflix.

2.5/5 Stars

Couldn’t work these in: Venom, Insect, Antennae, Hive, Apoidea, Vespa

Written by Russ Nickel

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by | January 17, 2011 · 6:30 am

Tangled – Best Disney Movie in Years, Maybe Ever

Without female companionship, it’s hard to go see Tangled and still maintain an air of manliness and virility. So, abandoning all hope of preserving that façade, I decided to go all the way to the deep end of the lame pool and see it with my parents. And for once, the dearth of self-confidence that inspired me to long ago stop vying for success with the fairer sex paid off, because when the dust settled and the credits rolled, there was only one fact left standing, and it towered above all other thoughts and insecurities: Tangled was AWESOME!

What a cast of characters! Zachary Levi, or Chuck from Chuck (for those of you who watch my favorite television show), is perfectly charming as Flynn Rider, the shallow and selfish thief whose good looks are rivaled only by Narcissus. Immediately likeable despite his negative qualities, Flynn Rider’s journey toward empathy is one which is quickly obvious, and yet it is so flawlessly executed that I found his transformation transfixing at every turn.

As for Rapunzel (Mandy Moore), well, I was pretty much in love with her the moment I saw her. The epitome of innocence, Rapunzel is a drop of sunshine in the darkness. Her unadulterated joy is contagious, infecting even the most jaded and cynical. It was a pleasure to see how people changed when touched by such a fair creature, whether it be a group of thugs singing about their dreams or innumerable citizens breaking out into dance in the streets. Again, Rapunzel’s character arc was rather obvious: from an obedient girl afraid of the world to a real person living her life. And again, it didn’t matter, because that arc was artfully crafted.

Mother Gothel (Donna Murphy) is an understandable villain. I mean, Rapunzel’s magic hair gives her eternal youth. If that’s not a good reason for keeping your daughter in a tower, I don’t know what is. The two characters of a different genus deserve quite a bit of recognition themselves. Pascal the chameleon makes for an excellent sidekick to Rapunzel. He’s just about the cutest thing ever (right behind How to Train Your Dragon’s Toothless), and his indignant looks are a great counterpoint to Rapunzel’s innocent absurdity. Even Maximus, the head guard’s horse, is an amazing character with a story of his own. He tracks Flynn Rider with brutal determination, but as per usual, ends up joining the team.

Honestly, this movie has the perfect setup. You see, Flynn Rider is a character you can really get behind. Sure, he doesn’t care about other people, but his charm makes him unarguably, well, charming. Oh, and Rapunzel is a character you can really get behind. The opposite of Flynn, she is trusting and cares deeply for everyone, and yet she has much to learn about the world. We love both characters from the beginning, and the traits that make each of them so great directly reflect the other’s flaws, so when fate brings them together, we get to watch an incredible relationship blossom.

Plus, there were a couple of little lines that broke the fourth wall in an amusing way. At one point, Flynn Rider calls Pascal a frog. Rapunzel, offended, points out that it’s a chameleon, to which Flynn responds “Nuance.” Bringing up the cliché of a princess and a frog is especially amusing, since Disney’s last animated film was titled The Princess and the Frog. Also, like I said, Mother Gothel isn’t particularly villainous during the film, just a bit attached to the idea of immortality. Now, when she argues with Rapunzel, she always complains that Rapunzel is “making her the bad guy.” Well, I really wanted her to be the bad guy so I could cheer when she got her comeuppance, and then finally, much to my delight, she snaps, saying “You want me to be the bad guy? Fine. Now I’m the bad guy.” To her, she was harkening back to those old arguments, but to me, she was talking directly to the audience, letting us know that it was ok to root against her.

If I had one complaint, and I do, it would be that the songs didn’t quite live up to my expectations. They were still excellent, but they were a bit more ponderous than some Disney tunes. With the exception of “I’ve Got a Dream,” they were slow, character-heavy numbers that, while still of a high quality, lacked the pizzazz that got the Aladdin soundtrack stuck so firmly in my head.

But the songs certainly didn’t detract from the experience. The dialogue was sharp, the animation was beyond beautiful, and the movie was both touching and hilarious. And as an added bonus, there was a lot of great insight into human nature. I cared for those characters, and the film was able to jerk my emotions around however it wanted. My sides hurt from laughing, my eyes ached from tears. Flynn’s charm and Rapunzel’s joy didn’t just affect the other characters; they reached right out of that screen and touched me too, and because of that, I give Tangled:

5/5 Stars

The only truly sad thing about this movie was that Rapunzel ended up becoming a brunette. Oh, the humanity!

Written by Russ Nickel

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by | December 20, 2010 · 3:07 am

Tron: Legacy – Get a Clu. Quorrantine the Grid.

People standing in line at a 3:15 am showing of Tron fit into 3 basic categories: Drunk, High, and Wearing Tron Costumes. That line ended up being a lot like the movie: It was long and there was a lot of waiting around; the people, like the characters, made little to no sense; and while the whole thing was fun to look at, I found the experience sticky and barely tolerable.

Once we finally made it inside the theater, my slipshod crew of friends, family, and coworkers, inspired by our smuggled-in alcohol (we fit into the Drunk category), led the theater in cheering and got quite the response ranging from the uninspired “Wooo!”s and “Tron!”s to the more creative “This shit’s in 3d!!!” The only problem was that, as the movie continued, the excitement steadily decreased, because every single member of the audience completely lost track of what was happening. By the end of the movie, the only real fans left were the ones cheering for Daft Punk, the band that did the soundtrack.

For those of you who either have or haven’t seen the movie, here’s the explanation of the plot. Sam Flynn (Garrett Hedlund), son of Kevin Flynn (Jeff Bridges), enters Tronland (the official name I think). Unfortunately, he is captured and sent to the “games.” Some really sexy programs (they appear as humans) dress him up and then he has to go fight. Sam battles well until he’s defeated by Tron, but you don’t know it’s Tron, then Tron takes Sam up to meet Clu, a clone copy of Sam’s dad, but you don’t know it’s Clu at the time. Things don’t go so great and Sam has to be a gladiator again, but he’s saved by Quorra (Olivia Wilde), who’s this total babe. Quorra takes Sam to his dad, and his dad explains that the only way to win Clu’s twisted game is not to play. Oh, he also tells Sam about ISOs, these programs that came from nowhere and are the key to revolutionizing everything ever. Too bad Clu killed all of them. Anyway, they only have like 8 hours to go home before the portal closes because Tronland is “like a safe.” It only opens from the outside. Like a safe. Sam refuses to play the game of refusing to play the game and goes to the city, where he’s betrayed and things sort of go bad. Like it turns out Quorra is the last ISO, and Tron is evil, but Tron might actually be good, and Clu is actually linked to Sam’s dad, so they sort of implode, and Sam escapes, and he and Quorra totally hook up, except they don’t because that would be weird.

Don’t get me wrong, however. This movie is nothing short of a metaphorical masterpiece! We are man, beings who are different from programs because of ever elusive reasons. Programs are clearly not like men, and this brings up dilemmas.

List of Dilemmas:

1.How are programs different from humans?

a.This is not discussed. If it were, then the sexual tension between Sam Flynn and Quorra, the sexy program, might be much creepier.

2.In what way was Clu attempting to create the perfect world?

a.He was programmed to create perfection. This seemed to entail constant gladiatorial battles and the amassing of armies.

3.Why can programs not create new programs, only alter them?

a.This is not discussed, only stated as fact. If it is a fact, then why does Clu send a ton of programs to die in gladiatorial battles when they’re clearly a precious commodity? If he’s been doing this since 1982, then how in the hell does he have so many left?!

4.What the fuck are ISOs, how do they make any sense, and in what way can they save humanity?

a.They are self-created programs.

b.They make sense because, wait, who am I kidding? That’s not discussed!

c.ISOs are the key to curing cancer, stopping earthquakes, and transferring large sums of money from Nigeria straight into your bank account! That’s how.

Now for a new category:

Russ’s Favorite Scene!

In the final battle, Sam and his dad and Quorra are hiding from some bad guy. They’re perfectly well hidden, but Quorra decides to “take herself out of the equation.” This line is a reincorporation from an earlier scene, which makes it seem important, except that it makes no sense either time. Anyway, Quorra goes and turns herself in, which accomplishes absolutely nothing, because now Sam just has to save her. He’s about to rush in and do just that, when his dad stops him. There’s a very meaningful shot showing that Quorra is being held captive by Tron, and Sam’s dad says “There’s another way.” This would indicate to me that Sam’s dad had some kind of plan. Maybe one where he reprograms Tron to be good again or something, but instead his plan is nothing. NOTHING! They go with Sam’s plan, which is, quote “I’m a user. I’ll improvise.” Now wait…Sam’s dad built this entire freaking universe and has NO PLAN; Sam just got here a couple hours ago and they go with his improvisation?!!? Jesus Christ — who was writing this thing? Anyway, they’re able to rescue Quorra because of Sam’s brilliant instincts. Oh wait. That’s not true. They rescue Quorra because someone just brings her up to them during the escape process. Then, when they’re getting chased by a bunch of planes, Tron suddenly turns good for absolutely no reason and fights off Clu for them. Yay! It’s a good thing Quorra let herself get captured!

Ok, maybe I’m hating on Tron too much. The people who were incredibly baked all thought it was awesome, because like, look at that shit! That shit’s in 3d! And to be perfectly fair, I can’t really argue against that kind of logic. Sure the story didn’t make sense, but the people and the machinery were beautiful.

2/5¢

Oh, and the CG to make Jeff Bridges look younger was the creepiest thing since The Polar Express. I’m glad that abomination isn’t my father!

Written by Russ Nickel

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by | October 27, 2010 · 9:20 am

Red – Bruce Willis Blows Shit Up

Picture, if you will, the perfect day: you wake up early and grab a quick haircut (to hide the balding); next you purloin a new school ID card even though you’ve already graduated (so you can sneak into parties); then you head to the doctor and convince them to give you a slew of prescriptions (because you’re losing health insurance in 10 days); and finally you finish strong by pounding some beers and cheering on your school’s first collegiate Starcraft II tournament (no explanation necessary). I don’t know about you, but after a red-letter day like that, I knew the only place I could go was down.

What a conviction-altering relief it was, then, to see Red that evening. The awesome action, considerable comedy, and magnificent music teamed up like old friends long separated to create one hell of an enjoyable movie. At the beginning, Frank Moses (Bruce Willis) finds himself sitting at home living an unfulfilling life. His one escape is his strictly telephonic relationship with Sarah Ross (Mary-Louise Parker), an overcubicled employee at Frank’s retirement fund company who has a penchant for romance novels. After a quiet introduction, things get a little more interesting when an elite team of agents arrives at Moses’ house to kill him. After dispatching that minor inconvenience, Retired and Extremely Dangerous Mr. Moses has no choice but to catch a red eye to Kansas City, kidnap Sarah and drag her along on his adventure. She complains here and there, but you can tell she’s enjoying it. After all, it’s just like the book she’s reading: Love’s Savage Secret (turns out the secret was good communication). From there, they pick up some more members, blow some shit up, and generally paint the town red.

You know, I keep thinking I’ve seen every sweet stunt, car chase, and fist fight imaginable, but then something like this comes along. It spends half its time making me laugh, and it still manages to invent fight sequences that had me explaining them in detail over and over to my fellow moviegoers afterward. They kept insisting that they, too, had seen it, but I still don’t think they ever fully understood how badass it was when Bruce Willis stepped out of that spinning car, gun blazing. Man, so cool.

But cool can only get you so far. Red travels the rest of the way on the backs of its comedic cast. The script plays up the actors’ ages just the right amount, funny but not overdone—e.g., after killing a bunch of people, Willis straightens out not the suit jacket, but the pajama robe. Plus, the relationships are hilarious. In the Red universe, you know a woman truly loves you when the bullets she pumps into your chest are meant only to wound and not kill. And I have to give a shoutout to John Malkovich, someone I’ve basically only ever seen Being himself. He’s hilarious, and at his introduction, Frank Moses tells Sarah not to “talk about satellites” around him, and she responds with “Seriously?” Now that’s some subtle humor, because how do we know she wasn’t actually asking “Siriusly?” as in, “Does that include satellite radio?” Clever movie indeed.

A clever movie with good music—it fuses old western twang and rocking metal to make every scene a modernized showdown. The music was so good that I actually noticed it, although maybe that makes it toooo good. Perhaps Christophe Beck needs to stop being so excellent.

Not everything was at an iron maiden level of excellence, however. The bad guys’ motivations were pretty murky. I mean, the vice president makes sense (they’re inherently evil), but there was this second big bad with no clear stake in anything. His death, while welcome, was unsatisfying. I wanted to really hate the guy I saw die in the climax, but Red opted for flimsy twists and red herrings rather than simple catharsis. Also, the final action scene is rather lengthy and not nearly as innovative as the rest. They do make it amusing, but there wasn’t one new stunt. Plus, Frank Moses is clearly the main character, and he sits out the entire final battle. I kept waiting for him to come in and do something amazing, but unlike the little kid on the tricycle from The Incredibles, my wish was not granted.

Here’s the skinny. Red is a great action comedy. It does both of those things to a “t,” and if you’re like me, you love Bruce Willis, so enjoying it was never really a question. All in all, Red was a really excellent denouement to my day.

4/5 Stars

Bonus Rating! Red’s one F-Bomb is delivered by Karl Urban in the form of “Fuck you, Cynthia.” It’s no “Yippee-ki-yay motherfucker,” and we barely know who Cynthia is, but Karl Urban is boss and has a hella deep voice, so it’ll do. F-Bomb Meter: 50%

Written by Russ Nickel

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