Superbad is a parable of values and friendship, reminding us that a good and earnest moral upbringing will be able to safely glide us through life and make us achieve happiness much easier. Its characters are well-mannered and sweet, not to mention inherently likable, as well as everything being morally correct and admirable.
Now onto the real review. Superbad is a shamelessly raunchy R-rated comedy with more four letter words than a Webster dictionary. Again, this sounds like the introduction I'd give a poorly rated film. By no means is Superbad a bad comedy. It is a smart, witty, and factual teen movie side-stepping clichés and underwritten primary characters, while at the same time remaining funny and entertaining until the end.
2007 was the year where Judd Apatow took off. He gained attention in 2005 with The 40 Year Old Virgin, but pretty much garnered a household name with this and Knocked Up, both starring Seth Rogen. It wouldn't surprise me to hear that Superbad is an autobiography, since the writers of the film, Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg, share the same names as the lead actors. Maybe that could be why this feels so sentimental and close to home. Or maybe it's because Superbad is aware what kind of unsettling situations high school can put you through and knows how to document them in a fun way.
The film centers around loudmouth pervert Seth (Hill) and self-conscious, paranoia-stricken Evan (Cera) as they endure their last few weeks of being high schoolers before they are shipped off to separate colleges. Seth and Evan have been friends for years, and are tired of the fact that their separate ways have been the talk of their parents and friends.
Seth has a crush on the recently-popular Jules (Stone), a beautiful redhead, who trusts him with supplying alcohol for her party. Evan has a crush on Becca (MacIsaac), a sweet and simple girl who agrees to meet up with him at Jules' upcoming party as well. In order to purchase the alcohol, both Seth and Evan trust their pal Fogel (Mintz-Plasse), who plans to acquire a fake ID. Because of this ID, Fogel now becomes his fake name, "McLovin," a name that has garnered much fame on the web.
The night unfolds into a chaotic spectacle of unprecedented stature, so much so that I won't go into explaining the routes and acts of desperation the characters take in order to be liked, admired, or even noticed. Fogel winds up teaming up with two police officers (Hader and Rogen) who act more like the bad guys rather than good guys. This setup and sort of topsy-tursvy treatment of character roles create limitless comedic possibilities, most of which are well utilized.
But what truly makes the film work is its level of realism and intelligence. It has wit, and puts it to use. The writing and acting captures the awkwardness of the teenage lifestyle with pinpoint accuracy, at the same time makes it fun and painful to witness. I can think of quite a few films that allow their characters to thrive on ego and self-interest, with no redeeming qualities. Here, the characters in Superbad just want to fit in and achieve the girl of their dreams, but shallow stereotypes and one stutter too many prevent this goal from happening.
Superbad is quite a rarity; a funny, good-natured comedy focusing on things of the immoral nature. Sadly, too many people believe these films are just raucous sex comedies with no substance, soul, or charm. However, the characters are likable and charismatic, and lack the oh-so-typical nihilistic, "I just want to have sex with anything that moves" mentality. Some may be surprised at the level of nuanced emotional instances the film reaches. The performances are fun, the writing is polished and witty, and the antics never seem to go over the top. It's too bad the women roles in the film feel a tad underwritten. Hopefully we have a well-written follow up to explore that angle sometime soon.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Monday, January 28, 2013
Review of "The Black Cat" (1934)
If anything, "The Black Cat" proves that awkward and unconventional film-making is nearly as ancient as cinema itself. This incredibly strange film hasn't got a plot (or at least not a highly significant one), but it nevertheless remains one of the greatest classics in the horror genre for a large number of other reasons. It represents the first – and undoubtedly finest – teaming of horror cinema titans Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff, and the sequences they share together (which are quite many) are so competitively brilliant you'll often think they really did behave like enemies on the filming sets.
Other than the stellar performances of the two veterans, "The Black Cat" is a landmark horror film because of the unspeakably sinister atmosphere and the featuring of hugely shocking & controversial themes. Remember this film came out in 1934, and was Universal's highest grossing production that year, yet it revolves on topics like Satanism, torture and a wicked type of taxidermy! Some of the little trivia & monologue details, whether or not relevant to the plot, are almost too morbid and unsettling for words. For example: houses that are build on mass graves of World War One's concentration camps, vivid stories of war imprisonment and a rather explicit depiction of physical retribution during the climax. These are all elements that easily come across as shocking by today's standards, so I'm really curious what kind of effect "The Black Cat" must have had on movie-goers in 1934. I bet several people were traumatized for life. And then last but certainly not least, "The Black Cat" is a purely genuine (and one of Hollywood's only) highlight of the Expressionistic filming style. Not coincidentally, because writer/director Edgar G. Ulmer is European and previously worked with some of the greatest directors who first translated the artistic trend to cinema screens, like Fritz Lang ("Metropolis", "M") and Paul Wegener ("Der Golem"). With some of the aforementioned macabre themes, you're anticipating old dark houses and grim torture dungeons, but instead the sets are brightly lit, futuristic and even somewhat relaxing. It's a truly beautiful piece of work to behold, thanks to Ulmer's directorial vision and Charles D. Hall wondrous art direction.
With such a beautiful depiction of atmospheric morbidity and the powerful acting showdown between Karloff and Lugosi, it's hard to deny that the absence of coherent storytelling is somewhat of a letdown. "The Black Cat" is virtually plot less and definitely doesn't owe anything to the writings of Edgar Allen Poe, even though the title and the reference of his name during the opening credits suggest otherwise. The film just unfolds the story of a vendetta between two war veterans. Hjalmar Poelzig (Karloff) was responsible for the 15 years lasting imprisonment of Dr. Werdegast (Lugosi) and tricked his wife and daughter into believing he died on the battlefield. By now, the purely evil Poelzig even promoted himself to being the High Priest of a devil worshiping cult and fiendishly plots to sacrifice the enchanting Joan Alison who was, along with her husband Peter, traveling with the vengeful Werdegast. The story often feels underdeveloped and it seems like the entire cast & crew realized the production primarily focused on style and visual flair. With a slightly more competent script "The Black Cat" easily would have ranked in the top five greatest horror movies ever made. Now it's still a highly recommended classic, and worth seeing if only for the nostalgic and almost magical sequence where Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi play chess together.
Other than the stellar performances of the two veterans, "The Black Cat" is a landmark horror film because of the unspeakably sinister atmosphere and the featuring of hugely shocking & controversial themes. Remember this film came out in 1934, and was Universal's highest grossing production that year, yet it revolves on topics like Satanism, torture and a wicked type of taxidermy! Some of the little trivia & monologue details, whether or not relevant to the plot, are almost too morbid and unsettling for words. For example: houses that are build on mass graves of World War One's concentration camps, vivid stories of war imprisonment and a rather explicit depiction of physical retribution during the climax. These are all elements that easily come across as shocking by today's standards, so I'm really curious what kind of effect "The Black Cat" must have had on movie-goers in 1934. I bet several people were traumatized for life. And then last but certainly not least, "The Black Cat" is a purely genuine (and one of Hollywood's only) highlight of the Expressionistic filming style. Not coincidentally, because writer/director Edgar G. Ulmer is European and previously worked with some of the greatest directors who first translated the artistic trend to cinema screens, like Fritz Lang ("Metropolis", "M") and Paul Wegener ("Der Golem"). With some of the aforementioned macabre themes, you're anticipating old dark houses and grim torture dungeons, but instead the sets are brightly lit, futuristic and even somewhat relaxing. It's a truly beautiful piece of work to behold, thanks to Ulmer's directorial vision and Charles D. Hall wondrous art direction.
With such a beautiful depiction of atmospheric morbidity and the powerful acting showdown between Karloff and Lugosi, it's hard to deny that the absence of coherent storytelling is somewhat of a letdown. "The Black Cat" is virtually plot less and definitely doesn't owe anything to the writings of Edgar Allen Poe, even though the title and the reference of his name during the opening credits suggest otherwise. The film just unfolds the story of a vendetta between two war veterans. Hjalmar Poelzig (Karloff) was responsible for the 15 years lasting imprisonment of Dr. Werdegast (Lugosi) and tricked his wife and daughter into believing he died on the battlefield. By now, the purely evil Poelzig even promoted himself to being the High Priest of a devil worshiping cult and fiendishly plots to sacrifice the enchanting Joan Alison who was, along with her husband Peter, traveling with the vengeful Werdegast. The story often feels underdeveloped and it seems like the entire cast & crew realized the production primarily focused on style and visual flair. With a slightly more competent script "The Black Cat" easily would have ranked in the top five greatest horror movies ever made. Now it's still a highly recommended classic, and worth seeing if only for the nostalgic and almost magical sequence where Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi play chess together.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Review of "Looper" (2012)
Sitting here a few days after viewing Rian Johnson's Looper, parts of it are still falling in to place. Standing out amongst this years crop of mostly underwhelming sequels and comic book adaptations, Looper thunders onto the screen, showing, much like Inception did two years ago, that there is a place in 2012 for fresh material and just how good it can be when it's done right.
The film tells the story of Joe (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), a hit-man for an organised crime syndicate tasked with assassinating targets sent from the future. After being confronted with his future self (Bruce Willis) and failing to perform, Young Joe is forced to track down Old Joe and finish the job before being tracked down himself by the nefarious mob led by Abe (Jeff Daniels). However there is much more to the story than the basic premise, and Johnson isn't afraid to keep details close to his chest until later in the film than most movies of this type, so I won't spoil them here.
While certainly paying subtle homage to its predecessors, Looper is a stunningly original sci-fi masterpiece, vastly superior to any of the higher profile action releases this year. While certainly made on a much larger playing field than Johnson's previous work (Brick, The Brothers Bloom), there is still a small-scale, independent feel to the film, and it benefits from clearly staying completely under the control of the young director. Delivering excitement sprinkled with thoughtful themes of personal sacrifice, he offers us much to chew on.
Johnson understands that a successful action film doesn't need an explosion every ten minutes, and allows ample time for developing character and story, something which will likely divide audiences. Looper is very deliberately constructed, and after the highly charged opening establishing the intricate time-travel premise and direction of the plot, Johnson scales back the action almost too much as he ambitiously juggles the many and varied story elements he has created. Thankfully, any weakness in the middle of the film is largely overshadowed as Johnson launches the third act with such ferocity that the stark change of pace leaves you breathless.
Despite the problems in the middle of the film, Looper overcomes its flaws purely by being that rare beast in Hollywood nowadays, the totally original script. Not an adaptation, not a sequel or remake, but a fresh idea from the mind of an immensely talented young film-maker. In a perfect world, Looper would be the game changer it deserves to be, slapping Hollywood studios across the face and announcing that not everything has to be a PG-13 franchise based on a comic book. It's unlikely that this will the case, and it remains to be seen whether or not the film will even be a success, but it's encouraging to see that there are young auteurs at work who are fighting to craft new and exciting stories, even if we only get to see the results every year or two.
The film tells the story of Joe (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), a hit-man for an organised crime syndicate tasked with assassinating targets sent from the future. After being confronted with his future self (Bruce Willis) and failing to perform, Young Joe is forced to track down Old Joe and finish the job before being tracked down himself by the nefarious mob led by Abe (Jeff Daniels). However there is much more to the story than the basic premise, and Johnson isn't afraid to keep details close to his chest until later in the film than most movies of this type, so I won't spoil them here.
While certainly paying subtle homage to its predecessors, Looper is a stunningly original sci-fi masterpiece, vastly superior to any of the higher profile action releases this year. While certainly made on a much larger playing field than Johnson's previous work (Brick, The Brothers Bloom), there is still a small-scale, independent feel to the film, and it benefits from clearly staying completely under the control of the young director. Delivering excitement sprinkled with thoughtful themes of personal sacrifice, he offers us much to chew on.
Johnson understands that a successful action film doesn't need an explosion every ten minutes, and allows ample time for developing character and story, something which will likely divide audiences. Looper is very deliberately constructed, and after the highly charged opening establishing the intricate time-travel premise and direction of the plot, Johnson scales back the action almost too much as he ambitiously juggles the many and varied story elements he has created. Thankfully, any weakness in the middle of the film is largely overshadowed as Johnson launches the third act with such ferocity that the stark change of pace leaves you breathless.
Despite the problems in the middle of the film, Looper overcomes its flaws purely by being that rare beast in Hollywood nowadays, the totally original script. Not an adaptation, not a sequel or remake, but a fresh idea from the mind of an immensely talented young film-maker. In a perfect world, Looper would be the game changer it deserves to be, slapping Hollywood studios across the face and announcing that not everything has to be a PG-13 franchise based on a comic book. It's unlikely that this will the case, and it remains to be seen whether or not the film will even be a success, but it's encouraging to see that there are young auteurs at work who are fighting to craft new and exciting stories, even if we only get to see the results every year or two.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Review of "Les Miserables" (2012)
The guiding ethic of any film adaptation of a legendary source must be: "Change as little as possible." Those in charge of Les Miz knew precisely what they were working with. A few songs are shortened, a handful of lines altered, and a few scenarios condensed or adapted to their original literary form, but the whole remains gloriously and satisfyingly intact.
"The Work Song" is set to the image of a hundred convicts battling a stormy sea to pull a listing ship into dry dock—and only here does the film's live-recording ethic fall short, as the music and voices lack the power to match the imagery, seemingly washed out by the sea noise, where the live musical would normally captivate from the first note.
Neither of them theatrical belters, Jackman and Crowe's performances feel subdued in the opening scene. But the film finds its gravitas the instant Colm Wilkinson appears as the Bishop of Digne, and from that instant, the next two and a half hours are nothing less than the repeated sliding of the viewer's soul up and down a finely-honed blade.
The ability to take close-ups gives the film an intimacy that is unattainable on a Broadway stage, and power numbers are sometimes reduced to a chilling whisper. Anne Hathaway destroys herself to bring Fantine to life, and her incredible, personal pain washes in waves from the screen. The tooth removal, normally excised from the musical, is even back from the book—though modified in location. "Confrontation" is then viscerally set as a full-on close-quarters sword fight.
Film also allows a depth of scale that challenges the stage. The transition to "At the End of the Day" is a grim and powerful scramble through the slums of Paris, shaking the screen with the palpable rage of a nation. "Look Down" is another tour de force, while "Do You Hear the People Sing" emerges from a quiet, elegiac call to arms that organically overtakes General Lamarque's funeral procession.
Samantha Barks' Éponine lights up in her every interaction with Marius, and shots of her in the background of "A Heart Full of Love" are soul-rending. But she suffers just enough tiny cuts that "A Little Fall of Rain" is not quite as arresting as it should be, and the constant close-ups amputate the power of a scene that should captivate not only through its intimacy, but through the inactivity that washes across the entirety of a once-violent stage.
Russel Crowe's soft-voiced Javert takes some getting used to, and while it works more often than one might expect, he sometimes seems to be singing with a sock in his mouth—most notably during "One Day More," where he seems to have been mixed in at a different volume level from the rest of the cast. Yet the cinematography of "Stars" is simple yet stunning, and Javert's Suicide suffers nothing in this interpretation.
M. Thénardier endures a few cuts (most notably the truncation of "Dog Eats Dog"), but Sacha Baron Cohen steals enough asides and chews enough scenery that his part hardly feels reduced.
The background has been filled in with elements from the novel, and those who have read Hugo's epic will appreciate nods to Fauchelevent and the Petit-Picpus convent, Gavroche's elephant-home, Marius' grandfather, and the tavern behind the barricade. There is even a quick cut to Gavroche when Éponine is shot, winking at their normally undisclosed sibling relationship.
Even the finale remains perfectly and satisfyingly intact. The only challenge with a film that so precisely parallels its stage inspiration is resisting the necessity to deliver a standing ovation once the final note has been sung. If only they had found a way to incorporate a curtain call!
"The Work Song" is set to the image of a hundred convicts battling a stormy sea to pull a listing ship into dry dock—and only here does the film's live-recording ethic fall short, as the music and voices lack the power to match the imagery, seemingly washed out by the sea noise, where the live musical would normally captivate from the first note.
Neither of them theatrical belters, Jackman and Crowe's performances feel subdued in the opening scene. But the film finds its gravitas the instant Colm Wilkinson appears as the Bishop of Digne, and from that instant, the next two and a half hours are nothing less than the repeated sliding of the viewer's soul up and down a finely-honed blade.
The ability to take close-ups gives the film an intimacy that is unattainable on a Broadway stage, and power numbers are sometimes reduced to a chilling whisper. Anne Hathaway destroys herself to bring Fantine to life, and her incredible, personal pain washes in waves from the screen. The tooth removal, normally excised from the musical, is even back from the book—though modified in location. "Confrontation" is then viscerally set as a full-on close-quarters sword fight.
Film also allows a depth of scale that challenges the stage. The transition to "At the End of the Day" is a grim and powerful scramble through the slums of Paris, shaking the screen with the palpable rage of a nation. "Look Down" is another tour de force, while "Do You Hear the People Sing" emerges from a quiet, elegiac call to arms that organically overtakes General Lamarque's funeral procession.
Samantha Barks' Éponine lights up in her every interaction with Marius, and shots of her in the background of "A Heart Full of Love" are soul-rending. But she suffers just enough tiny cuts that "A Little Fall of Rain" is not quite as arresting as it should be, and the constant close-ups amputate the power of a scene that should captivate not only through its intimacy, but through the inactivity that washes across the entirety of a once-violent stage.
Russel Crowe's soft-voiced Javert takes some getting used to, and while it works more often than one might expect, he sometimes seems to be singing with a sock in his mouth—most notably during "One Day More," where he seems to have been mixed in at a different volume level from the rest of the cast. Yet the cinematography of "Stars" is simple yet stunning, and Javert's Suicide suffers nothing in this interpretation.
M. Thénardier endures a few cuts (most notably the truncation of "Dog Eats Dog"), but Sacha Baron Cohen steals enough asides and chews enough scenery that his part hardly feels reduced.
The background has been filled in with elements from the novel, and those who have read Hugo's epic will appreciate nods to Fauchelevent and the Petit-Picpus convent, Gavroche's elephant-home, Marius' grandfather, and the tavern behind the barricade. There is even a quick cut to Gavroche when Éponine is shot, winking at their normally undisclosed sibling relationship.
Even the finale remains perfectly and satisfyingly intact. The only challenge with a film that so precisely parallels its stage inspiration is resisting the necessity to deliver a standing ovation once the final note has been sung. If only they had found a way to incorporate a curtain call!
Review of "The Ghost and Mr. Chicken" (1966)
This picture is easy to rave about. I don't know how many times I've seen it, but 'Chicken' never fails to work its magic. A thesis could be written on its gentle lampooning of small town America, the travails of the 'little guy', and the character studies which show the human comedy which surrounds us every day of our lives. Pretty much every scene is a classic of comedy, from the malfunctioning elevator operator to the repeated motifs of 'Atta boy, Luther' and 'And they used Bon Ami!' It's also a treasure trove of fine performances, from Burt Mustin to Jessalyn Fax, not to mention Don K., of course. Harry Hickox, Hope Summers, Charles Lane, what could be better? Everything is genuine, from Skip Homier's matching with (former Playboy model!) Joan Staley to Luther's accurate but frenzied punching of the transmission buttons in the center of the steering wheel of his Edsel. Vic Mizzy's score is incredible, and his crazed organ toccata will burn itself into your memory even more than his trademark electric guitar accents. Everything is well-composed in Techniscope. This picture, along with the rest of the Knotts Universal contract (climaxing in the very odd 'The Love God?'), 'Angel in My Pocket', and even 'Cold Turkey' form an amazing comic vision of Americana, created by brilliant minds who knew how to capture it without resorting to cheap shots or vulgarity. 'Chicken' is a great comedy, a classic, and its greatness is found in its humbleness.
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
How to Fit the Pieces of the Christian Worldview Together
Note: The following is my take on the practical applications of Alex McLellan's new book, A Jigsaw Guide to Making Sense of the World (IVP Books, 2012).
This fallen world can be puzzling, but you can make sense of it – and help other people figure it out – even though you can’t know everything there is to know about the world. Just like assembling a jigsaw puzzle, you can fit enough clues to the universe together to be able to see the big picture emerge. Once you see it, you’ll discover that a Christian worldview is the only one that truly reflects the world’s reality.
Here’s how you can fit the pieces of the Christian worldview together for yourself and help other people do the same, so they can see how it makes sense to have relationships with Jesus Christ:
See the worldview that best fits with reality. Out of all possible worldviews, the Christian way of seeing the world best corresponds with reality. Some of the many reasons why include: the evidence that the universe was designed by an intelligent creator; the inborn human desire to search for God; the fulfillment that only comes from a relationship with God; the fact that Jesus Christ changed the world more than anyone who has ever lived; and the evidence for Jesus’ life, ministry, sacrificial death, and resurrection from the dead. You can come to understand that Christianity makes sense of the world better than any other worldview without knowing all that there is to know; you simply need to discover how important parts of the worldview puzzle fit together with the world’s natural order. Discovering how enough of the pieces fit together causes the entire picture to come into view, just like what happens when you’re putting together a jigsaw puzzle and can confidently know what the picture is even when you haven’t yet assembled all of the pieces. Engage people in conversations in which you all can explore possible answers to life’s ultimate questions, such as how and why the universe came into being, and why human beings exist. Discuss what the Bible says, and listen carefully to each other, with the goal of learning from each other – and ultimately, from God. As you take hold of what you discover to be true about the world, consider what comes next, and put the pieces together one at a time. Keep in mind that people must overcome whatever obstacles exist to them seeing the truth about the world: moral resistance (such as a desire to hold onto pleasure or pride rather than paying the cost of following Jesus), emotional resistance (such as directing anger at God for the pain you've suffered), and spiritual blindness. Ask God to help you overcome those obstacles, and pray for others to be able to overcome them, with God’s help.
Handle the truth. Since the Christian worldview is built on the foundation of truth, be prepared to defend Christianity as absolute truth to those who want to believe that truth is relative or those who don’t yet understand how the Christian worldview is the only one that truly reflects reality. Keep in mind that how you talk to people about faith is just as important as what you say when you talk to them. In order to get people to really listen to you, it’s essential to show attitudes of gentleness and respect when talking to them about what you believe. Once you've earned people’s trust, you can explain to them why Jesus Himself is the truth for all people at all times and in all places.
Share your belief. All beliefs are not created equal, and the Christian worldview best corresponds to the world’s reality. As a Christian, you have a responsibility to know what you believe and why you believe it, so you can give reasons for your faith in Jesus when people ask you about it. Every reason you believe is a reason to share with others who are spiritually searching, and every reason that you share can help others discover the truth.
Anchor your faith. Understand that real faith is never blind, or based merely on feelings. True faith is anchored in the reliable truth of what the Bible says – all the evidence and the many reasons that God has given you to believe in Him. If you approach God with even just a small bit of faith, that will be enough because God will meet you where you are and help you grow in faith. But your faith and reason work together when you’re trying to make sense of the world. So be sure to read, study, and reflect on the Bible says, and act on it by incorporating biblical principles into your life. When others see faith and reason at work in your life, they’ll be inspired to seek God themselves.
Deal with your doubt. Don’t deny or suppress your doubt; instead, face it and deal with it directly. Doubt can serve a good purpose in your life when it motivates you to ask questions and dig deeper into your search for the truth. Ask God to give you the humility you need to reflect honestly on your doubts, to be open to learning new information, and to be respectful to others who are searching spiritually yet dealing with their own doubt. Since God is bigger than any of your doubts, when you bring your doubts to God, He will strengthen your faith.
Show others the big picture. Once you've put enough pieces of knowledge together to make sense of what’s true about the world, you can help other people see the big picture by sharing the Gospel message with them. Help them understand the problem of how sin separates people from God, appreciate the solution of how Jesus’ sacrificial death is the only way that people can connect with God, and make a decision about trusting Jesus with their lives.
Adapted from A Jigsaw Guide to Making Sense of the World, copyright 2012 by Alex McLellan. Published by IVP Books, a division of InterVarsity Press, Downers Grove, Ill.
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