Review of "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" (2003)

Surprisingly Good Remake

The horror/sci-fi movie critic Richard Scheib coined the term "Backwoods Brutality" to describe the slew of low-budget movies that emerged in the late 1970's which had as their main theme the violent and abrupt destruction of middle-class serenity. The concept has occasionally found expression outside of the horror genre (see Straw Dogs, Deliverance) but since Wes Craven's "Last House on the Left" (1972), it has been a mainstay of the horror genre. Even thirty years later, the basic idea continues to be remade and re-interpreted.

I believe the original Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) is the most successful exponent of the genre. As it often does in the American variations of this genre, the TCM takes the so-called blue state/red state dichotomy to a grotesque extreme:  the backroads of the Deep South are another country and its inhabitants exhibit unrestrained contempt for every unsuspecting wayfarer. Its use of tension, which is meticulously established in the film's first forty-five minutes, and its release--the last forty-five minutes--is almost elegant in its simplicity. Throughout, violence is used in sparing and sudden bursts until the adrenaline-fueled final act, during which it is mercilessly sustained.

With some minor qualifications, this description also fits Marcus Nispel's 2003 remake. Here the enlarged budget and technical expertise have worked both for and against the film. On the one hand, a variety of new elements have been added to the story. Some, like the mysterious little boy or the ending, are average; others, like Leatherface's skin mask or the "extended family" are effective. On the other hand, the professionalism and attention to detail demonstrated by Daniel Pearl (whose cinematography here is magnificent; he was the lead cinematographer on the original after all) on down to those responsible for filming locations and set detail is consistently impressive.

So the basic "tension-release" framework has been lifted from the original but instead of improving on it the filmmakers have saddled it with characters, situations, drama and violence. (We learn from the HD extras, happily, that some 'tender moments' were left on the cutting room floor). Ultimately I believe it works as a horror movie on its own terms--in fact, I don't believe a better horror movie has been made until the genre's recent resurgence (i.e. The Walking Dead, etc)--and Nispel/Kosar deserve credit in attempting to revise the concept in minor ways for hardcore fans of the franchise. On the balance, however, the original's low-budget guerrilla-like realism as well as some of its visceral power have been compromised.

Finally of note is the performance of Jessica Biel. Having earned her acting chops on the former TV show-slash-Cheesefest "7th Heaven", Biel has as of late found a niche playing physically tough but likeable and intelligent characters (see Blade: Trinity). She's actually quite excellent here; as it was for the original TCM's Marilyn Burns, Biel's performance is exhilarating and intense--almost a kind of cinematic endurance test. But one ends up actually believing she has the acuity and toughness to survive the whole ordeal.

(Some fun trivia courtesy of IMDb:  A then unknown John Larroquette provided the narration in the original TCM. Despite becoming a distinguished actor in the years since, he more than happily agreed to reprise his role for the remake). 

Review of "Superbad" (2007)

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

Review of "The Ghost Breakers" (1940)

Many movie fans who were raised seeing Bob Hope strictly in the slightly depressing films he made during the 1960s and his periodic TV specials may be surprised to learn that in the 1940s he was one of the best "fast patter' comedians working on the radio and in films. Generally playing a coward who still managed to come up on top in circumstances over which he had no control, the comic starred in a number of successful films.

I admittedly have a preference for "old dark house" mysteries, and I spent years trying to catch up on this one. The only version of the script which had been readily available through the 1970s was the Dean Martin/Jerry Lewis remake Scared Stiff, which used the basic premise but altered some of the gags and inserted musical numbers.

The action opens in New York City where Lawrence "Larry" Lawrence (Hope) is preparing for a radio broadcast as the city is hit by a storm-created blackout. Larry broadcasts gossip which includes, with tacit approval from the mob, news on some of the local crime kingpins. Unfortunately, his latest broadcast annoys Frenchy Duval (Paul Fix), and Larry is invited over for a few straight facts.

In the meantime, one of Larry's listeners is conferring with a lawyer who informs her she's inherited an island off the Cuban Coast. Mary Carter (Paulette Goddard) is thrilled at the news and makes plans to sail at once, in spite of the island's grim reputation as a hot spot for ghosts and worse. Fending off an offer from an unnamed third party to buy the island, she starts packing.

Larry arrives at Duval's hotel, which happens to also be the one where the heiress is staying. Suspecting he's in for more trouble than he can handle (i.e., any at all), Larry borrows a gun from his servant Alex (Willie Best). When a mysterious stranger is shot at the hotel, Lawrence panics --- assuming he killed the man -- and ends up in Mary's room. The police arrive and she offers him refuge.

Picking her trunk as his hiding place, Larry winds up aboard her cruise ship. Spotting a death threat that had been delivered to her stateroom, he decides that he and Alex will stay and protect her.

En route to Cuba, they encounter Geoff Montgomery (Richard Carlson, starting his move away from playing college-aged characters), with whom Mary's only recently acquainted. He offers to play guide once they arrive in Havana.

Mary vanishes from a nightclub, heading out to heck out the island by night. Larry and a reluctant Alex hire a rowboat and also make for the isle. Arriving, they briefly examine the hut of a local woman with a "zombie son" (Noble Johnson in a fairly creepy, deadpan performance) and proceed on to the bay haunted castle.

It quickly becomes obvious that there's someone else on the island. Alex and Larry have a run-in with a real ghost and the zombie son. Mary arrives and, her clothing torn, puts on a dress once owned by an ancestor for which she's a deal not so dead ringer. This confuses the zombie long enough for them to lock him away.

Investigating the cellars, Larry and Mary find her lawyer in one of the coffins. He'd been attacked by the mysterious individual who had wanted to purchase the island. He dies before he can reveal the killer -- only giving a cryptic clue. This turns out to be a hint at a fabulous treasure hidden underneath the castle.

The killer makes himself known, but is dispatched before he can eliminate the witnesses.

A fun little outing, and a decent example of one of the fairly early sound "old house" mysteries. These films were popular in the silent era, generally pitting one or more characters against an unknown killer in a rambling, storm-tossed mansion. Hope and Goddard had also starred in a sound remake of one of the better known of these haunted-mansion mysteries, The Cat and the Canary.

Review of "Roxanne" (1987)

Roxanne is probably going to go down as the pinnacle of Steve Martin's career as both an actor and a writer. Granted, he's made better movies (L.A. Story, The Man With Two Brains), but this is the one movie that seems to have grabbed the public's attention and keeps bringing them back. And that's because it's deceptively simple, the story of the underdog falling for the girl who has it all. It's peripherally based on Cyrano de Bergerac, but most people haven't read it (or even seen a movie adaptation), so much of the intricacies will be lost. But everyone can identify with the main character, C.D. Bales, and the story of his doomed love.

The movie is a romantic comedy, but that's too simplistic. It's full of incredible situational and verbal humor. Whether he's playing a slapstick routine trying to leave Roxanne's apartment or trying to think up the (more than) twenty insults that would be better than `Big Nose,' Martin's pen rarely falters. He can do drama, as evidenced by the scene on the roof with the overweight kid. And he writes compelling poetry: when C.D. speaks from his heart under Roxanne's window it threatens to turn hokey at any moment, but never does. The power of the movie is in the screenplay, and Martin's written an absolute gem.  

Of course, it also doesn't hurt that C.D. is such a sympathetic character. Actually, "sympathetic" is probably the wrong word. He's such a strong and dynamic character that every man would want to be him and every woman would want to have him…if it weren't for that stupid nose of his. Think about it: he's athletic, charming, well-read, witty, and handsome. And that's what makes it even worse for the viewer: knowing all these wonderful things are stuck inside this man and people can't see past his nose (pun not intended). Martin totally inhabits C.D. Bales: he knows him so well that it's second nature. He looks like he's having a blast with it, too, which helps the audience quite a bit.

It's not all Steve Martin, though (although it seems like it at times). The supporting cast does well with their roles and goes far beyond what I would have thought possible. Example: Daryl Hannah, an actress with a hit-and-miss record that's mostly miss, is surprisingly convincing as an astronomy student who knows about sub-nuclear particles and comet trajectories. Or Michael J. Pollard, who takes a role that's pretty much a series of one-liners and makes me remember him above all the other firefighters by the pure glee that he takes with every line.

It's certainly not perfect, nor is it Martin's best offering, but that's beside the point. The point is that it's the kind of movie people really enjoy but can't put their finger on just why. Well, the movie is smart, and that's why people find it refreshing. It's not simply a cookie-cutter romance with the typical leading man and the regular lines: it's got a heart and humanity that most romantic comedies disregard as unnecessary.

Review of "Apocalypse Now" (1979)

Francis Ford Coppola's "Apocalypse Now" is not a Vietnam War film. Do not confuse it with one. It is set to the back drop of the war, but it is a metaphorical exposition on the deteriorating effects that war has on the human psyche. It is also one of the most audacious films ever made, produced, or even conceived (second to the Lord of the Rings trilogy.) To call it a masterpiece would be an understatement of proportions as ambitious as the film's production levels.

Opening with no credits and following a memorable first scene playing to the tune of the Doors "The End" as Martin Sheen's Captain Benjamin L. Willard hallucinates to images of helicopters and napalm, the plot is essentially laid out in the first 15 minutes. Willard's mission is to "terminate... with extreme prejudice" Colonel Kurtz (Marlon Brando) who has invariably gone AWOL in the far reaches of the Cambodian jungle and, as told by his general, is "out there operating without any decent restraint, totally beyond the pale of any acceptable human conduct. And he is still in the field commanding troops." Kurtz is a delusional Colonel now being worshipped by a large group of followers who have dubbed him a god. For Willard, this covert operation seems somewhat more manageable than actual combat, yet, the journey he is about to take will be a personal quest that will challenge the limits of his human behavior.

Teaming up with a small crew, they embark down the vast reaches of the river in a rickety boat. Along the way, Willard educates himself on all things Kurtz. During Sheen's raspy voice over, he details his thoughts on the abundance of material he reads. Kurtz was a highly decorated and respected Green Beret. He was a normal man with a family, until a part of him succumbed to the horrors of human brutality and he led himself down the path that Willard is being led. The descent into the jungle is marked by a mesmerizing aura that echoes the battles being fought not to far away. Eventually the power of the experience weights on the group as drugs and a sort of solitary confinement attacks their senses. But Willard seems unfazed and desensitized in his quest to find Kurtz. As he reads about this mythic figure, he is drawn to the man's power and why he has become what he has become. We know that Willard's slow decay will parallel that of Kurtz's.

Marlon Brando has been revered for decades. His presence: unmatchable. His genius: undeniable. But for those unacquainted with his acting prowess and unaccustomed to his physical nuance, Brando can be perceived, in the eyes of an uncompromising film-goer, as a hack. He is most certainly not. Brando was difficult to work with, hard to interpret and impossible to understand, but his talent for unintelligible rants and unparalleled monologues is irrefutable. The man obviously knew what he was doing even if we didn't. His Colonel Kurtz is a being of limitless delusions and continual profundity.

If the film is any indication of the journeys into hell than Francis Ford Coppola's actual experience with making this masterpiece is a true life account of one man's fanatical struggle to produce a movie. It is reported that during the film's 200 plus day principle photography schedule, Coppola contemplated suicide. The film was not only an undeniable struggle to make; it is a grueling film to watch. Coppola's sweat and blood seep through the pores of the steamy locals and his dedication filters through the orifices of Martin Sheen's haunted soldier Willard.

I can not help but feel a warm sense of nostalgia for this type of film. At the dawn of all that was original and unprecedented, films that challenged as well as stimulated were commonplace. Audacity aside, Apocalypse Now is pure film-making. My respect and admiration for Mr. Coppola is of the highest order. But I shudder at the return to what has become the norm for today's standards for film: a lack of innovation. It is not simply the unoriginality of the world of cinema today; it is the fact that nobody seems to care to tell a story anymore or to tell one with heart. But we still have the great ones like Coppola's masterpiece, a film which bathed in its ability to give us something deeper than that which we could comprehend.

That depth in Apocalypse Now is the step into madness. The killing can disturb. The loss of innocence can unhinge. But it is the damage from within; the countless barrages of images that distress, unnerve and detach us from our everyday world and the memories that plague our deepest thoughts that eventually segregates us from humanity and propels us into the realm of the instinctual, the savage and the animalistic. If the thought of killing does not provide sustenance, the act of killing provides man with its fundamental catharsis.

Review of "Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance" (2011)

Oh dear. How should I start? I went to "Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance" and I overheard people during the end credits talk amongst themselves. "I couldn't wait to see this movie" said one gentleman. His colleague recounted with "I couldn't wait for it to end." To be fair, here's another incident: I found myself talking with an acquaintance later on who also saw the feature. I mentioned that I planned to write a review on this movie. This was followed by a wincing face while he very softly said "Ooooooh!" As he shook his head, I knew with certainty this movie would be discussed in hushed tones by those who had seen it.

For the uninitiated, "Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance" is the indirect sequel to 2007's "Ghost Rider." These movies are based on the Marvel Comics character of the same name with the same premise. Johnny Blaze (Nicolas Cage) is a daredevil stunt motorcyclist who made a pact with Mephistopheles (Ciaran Hinds, "John Carter") to cure his father's cancer in exchange for his soul. After a cruel twist of fate, Blaze got burned in the deal, losing his soul and becoming a demonic pawn of dark forces. He now has supernatural abilities and is able change at will into a fiery skull-headed demon known as "The Rider," who has a fierce sense of justice. In this form, he is nearly indestructible and uses flaming chains as weapons.

The new movie finds Blaze eight years after the events of the first picture. The cursed loner has left behind his normal life and is living a meager existence in Eastern Europe.

In his earthly guise of "Rourke," the devil is tracking his own son Danny (Fergus Riordan, "I Want to Be a Soldier") in order to inhabit his body. Rourke's current body is dying, as the devil in human form weakens the host. To do Rourke's bidding, the mercenary Ray Carrigan (Johnny Whitworth, "Gamer") and his merry band of goons are hot on Danny's trail.

The boy and his mother Nadya (Violante Placido) are hiding within a monastery's castle when it is stormed. All the monks are killed and the duo is on the run. The drunken priest Moreau (Idris Elba, "Thor") finds and recruits Johnny Blaze to help protect the boy from the devil's insidious plan. Blaze is reluctant to unleash "The Rider" to defend Danny and make battle with the dark forces pursuing the boy. Moreau makes Blaze an offer he cannot refuse: access to a supernatural sect that can lift Blaze's curse and free him from his dark pact. With the prospect to regain his soul, how could he possibly say "no" to that?

A conflict with the Ghost Rider leaves Carrigan dead. He is resurrected by Rourke as the dreaded Blackout, complete with supernatural abilities to siphon life and to decay anything he touches. A great example of his newfound powers is handled somewhat amusingly: Blackout touches a sandwich and it decays. Then he touches an apple, it too dissolves. Nothing happens when he picks up a Twinkie, affirming that a Twinkie will last forever. In this case, the Twinkie can even withstand evil powers.

The Ghost Rider's new look is awesome, having been modified from the previous picture. This time, the skull is charred black, fierce and menacing. When the Rider sucks the sole of a baddie from him, he is truly a horrific force to be reckoned with. Towers of flames spirals off the Rider like a geyser. The way the Rider's leather jacket smolders, bubbles and smokes is a really great detail I haven't seen in the movies before.

The MTV-like camera work was notably atrocious. Many scenes are presented with animation and other graphics that happen so quickly, when they are over you're not sure what happened. The hip, fluid, linear approach I am sure the filmmakers were going for is completely upstaged by an overstretching of the medium. The effect is dizzying, unnerving and, quite frankly, amateur looking. How about the sound? I half wondered if I was going to be partially deaf for a day after seeing the movie, much like the day after a Motley Crue concert, due to the non-stop barrage of loud action sequences and ear-pounding music. If you want to replicate the effect, just put a metal bucket over your head and let a six-year old drum on it with a pair of mallets.

I'm sure the studio felt there could be no wrong in green-lighting this picture. The 2007 original actually grossed money despite being panned by most critics. This new movie boasts a very impressive screen writing credit: that of David S. Goyer. He is best known as the man who breathed new life into the Batman revision for the films "Batman Begins" (2005) and "The Dark Knight" (2008). Surely, he was believed to be able to reinvigorate the Ghost Rider franchise after its dismal 2007 start.

"Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance" is an un-engaging and un-interesting film that is an incoherent mess. I cannot fathom why anyone thought making this movie could possibly have been a good idea. It's frantic, chaotic and downright ugly. There is no sense of awe or fun, which is something you would want in a comic book based movie. If someone wanted to write a thesis on why they should stop making comic book movies, look no further than "Ghost Rider II."

Review of "The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring" (2001)

When one begins to write one's sentiments regarding a movie such as Peter Jackson's adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien's classic Lord of the Rings trilogy, the main problem isn't having difficulty finding things to remark upon - the main problem is knowing where to begin. The Fellowship of the Ring essentially redefined the term "quality", in its extraordinary ability to vastly succeed the already unreasonably high expectations of audiences and die-hard fans of the novels everywhere. 

It becomes difficult to avoid bias by painting the film with outlandish and likely unreasonable praises, but I must confess I could go on for literally pages pointing out how blown away I still am by virtually every aspect of this movie, the first, and in my opinion, strongest (as a film) of the trilogy. So I'll try to keep it concise - Jackson has truly brought the novels to life in a fashion one could never have imaged short of actually seeing it for themselves. The sets and appearance of Middle Earth are among the greatest ever created, an impeccable blend of CGI, constructed sets, and the already breathtaking landscapes of beautiful New Zealand. The beautiful cinematography brings this all to light again, in the best sense of the word - seldom does a movie look so, simply put, beautiful. The costumes and appearances of the various creatures and inhabitants of Middle Earth are once again, mind-blowing - some of the best and most convincing computer generated images are on display in these movies. This is all punctuated by Howard Shore's simply gorgeous and incredibly moving Oscar winning score.

Acting is also simply nothing less than astounding, with every cast member not only seeming torn straight out of the pages of the novels, born to play their role, but also turning out pretty much flawless performances around the board. There are standouts of course, especially Sir Ian McKellan's now career defining turn as the warm yet incredibly wise and powerful wizard Gandalf, Viggo Mortenson's wonderful flawed yet noble hero Aragorn, Sean Bean's excellent and truly touching portrayal of the quintessential flawed male character Boromir, Elijah Wood as the good hearted lead character, the innocent hobbit Frodo Baggins, and Sean Aston as his faithful and loyal companion Samwise, and Christopher Lee as the corrupted and now evil wizard Saruman the White. Then there is of course the absurdly underrated Andy Serkis' mind blowing portrayal of the creature Gollum. Though mainly seen in the next two films, Serkis already manages to make a powerful first impression with his 2 minutes or less of screen time. 

Again, it seems entirely fair to say The Lord of the Rings movies are among the greatest movies ever made, for their incredibly detailed attention to the details of Tolkien's novels, and their still-surprising ability to exceed expectations in every possible way in film-making and storytelling terms. This is epic storytelling at its best - if you are among the very few who have yet to see these movies, strongly consider doing so - it will be well worth your while.

Review of "Batman Returns" (1992)

Batman Returns is not a perfect film in the empirical sense of the word: there really is not quite enough Batman presence, some of the fight scenes (particularly with Catwoman) don't make sense, and some of the plot points are a bit more fantasy than reality (albeit that's probably intentional). But a mathematical stacking of pros and cons is not what makes a film great or horrible, it's the impact of it and the merit of its artistry. In this respect, Batman Returns is a masterpiece.

Tim Burton's major contribution to Batman in general, despite his frustrating insistence on being fascinated with the villains, is giving him back, and refining, his dark nature. Burton, along with Frank Miller's Dark Knight Returns (graphic novel) and a few others, re-imagined Batman into the Dark Knight, perfecting him into the somewhat frightening crime fighter Bob Kane was getting at back in 1939. "Dark" characters are often created by piling on violence, sex, or drug use, but Batman needs none of that to be scary. In fact he's better without it. He's dark because that's what he is, and there's a purity to it that no other super-hero can touch. Tim Burton pioneered this image of him in Batman, then mastered in Returns.

Batman Returns centers around four characters: Batman, Catwoman, The Penguin and Max Shreck. These four principles are the force of this movie, and the film's plot serves as an elaborate character study of each of them. Every one of them is both friend and enemy of each other character at different points of the movie, until the conflict between them throws the plot into a frenzy of senseless mayhem at the conclusion, finally succumbing to the insanity of its principles. For this reason, the ebb and flow of the plot is a bit off-kilter, and that would be a problem if any of those four performances weren't absolutely fabulous. Describing someone's acting never does it any justice, so I won't try to get into details, but it should be noted that all four of them spar with each other at full power.

The Batmobile is back and still kicking, and Burton and company thought of some great ways of tinkering with their toy, none of which I will reveal now. Suffice to say the Batmobile offers up some of the grandest entertainment in the film, involving chase sequences that stand up to this day due to the sheer cleverness of the situation. The Dark Knight's suit is more regal in this one, slightly grayed, taller and less compacted. Batman looks something like a king in his outfit. As for Michael Keaton, he proves yet again why Bob Kane gave him the nod for the role in 1989. It doesn't matter that the man is not all physically imposing, because that face of his looks so terrifying and dark in the Cowl that his presence is magnified two times over. Keaton's rasp is still on point, able to transform his body language and his voice perfectly under the suit. It should also be noted that Burton's Batman is quieter than anyone else's, including Frank Miller's. I love that. Batman is always too chatty everywhere else. As for Catwoman, Batman Returns perfected her. There is no reason to ever do Catwoman again in any work of fiction, because you will never again create a character so fascinating, sympathetic or more tragic. Burton took a nothing character, some one- dimensional sultry cat-burglar, and made her a vicious look at sexism and the persecution of innocence in an ugly, cruel world. Well done.

Danny deVito's Penguin is horribly ugly, completely hate-able, and rather pathetic, which is exactly what they were going for. He's a twisted animal with twice the anger and half the brains, not able to compete with Batman on any real level. But enter Max Shreck, a political monster whom the Penguin happens to have some dirt on, and The Penguin becomes a hand-puppet for Shreck, almost like Max testing to see if he could really make this abomination lovable. He has a mayor in office that doesn't always play ball, so he uses this thing to win the hearts of a Gotham City that is so desperate for hope they will latch onto anything. It's a cruel spectacle executed beautifully, and both actors give amazing turns. deVito will never get the credit he deserves for the film, because he makes you hate him so sincerely you forget to stop hating him when the credits roll. Christopher Walken is chilling, hateful and...(please don't ask me how he did this)...sympathetic. It's impossible to understand, but Walken somehow played Shreck so purely that it's hard not to respect him, even though he is a truly corrupt, twisted creature of a man.

The plot is imperfect, some of the fights are odd, and the plot is as much fantasy as that's possible in a movie set in a city, but it doesn't matter. Four fascinating, complicated characters are set into a boxing ring and told to go at it, and Batman Returns is the result. Not to mention the whole film is anchored by one of the most famous superheros of all time. It's a shame Batman gets upstaged by Burton's fascination with The Penguin, but it's a forgivable mistake in a story that's so deeply affecting, and so dark. That's the key thing Returns has that the original kind of missed: soul.

Review of "Batman" (1989)

On Superman's first major appearance in the original 1979 movie with Christopher Reeve, the "man of steel" saves Lois Lane from plummeting down 900 stories from the top of one of Metropolis' skyscrapers and becoming a human pancake. Lane asks the inevitable question, "Who are you?" Superman's reply is simply "a friend". That's what Superman would say. He probably would not call himself "Superman" lest to seem too aware of his own super magnificence, and thankfully he didn't flex his arms like the ridiculous TV show of the 1950's. Fast forward 10 years. In the film Batman a similar scene occurs at the opening with Batman apprehending some down-trodden baddies. The baddies ask the same question as Lois Lane, but the answer was "I'm Batman". Almost any other response would have been superior: "I'm your worst nightmare.", "You don't need to know my name.", even "I'm Blinky the Killer Clown." But replying "I'm Batman" really was a tip-off that the script still needed serious work, a problem that continues to plague many films produced under the corporate Hollywood system. Having Batman say "I'm Batman" is sort of akin to Dracula saying "I'm the Count!" or worse "I'm a Vampire!" proceeded by a cruel Romanian laugh.

The problem with this movie is that it couldn't quite decide if it was going to be Frank Miller's "Dark Knight", which was more akin to the early 1940's strips by creator Bob Kane, or the campy 1960's show with Adam West climbing up buildings and meeting the likes of Jerry Lewis or Dean Martin on the way to the roof top. If it was trying to be like Miller and/or Kane, it wasn't mysterious enough. If it was trying to be like West, it wasn't silly enough. Certainly Jack Nicholson as The Joker is the inevitable casting choice, and since Tim Burton was at the helm, it seemed like a movie that was aiming for the dark overtones of a Miller and/or Kane story. However, the mystery surrounding the Joker and Batman wasn't quite there.

The main issue is that the movie lacks focus, as if the screenwriters had not quite thought the story through and realized what the themes should be. Miller's "The Dark Knight Returns" may be the best Batman story since Bob Kane, and it certainly is a hard act to follow. Unfortunately, much of the movie is kind of a mess when you see it with a more critical eye. And I never quite felt for the characters in the way I did for the first two Superman movies.

Still, if you have never seen this movie, it is definitely worth a viewing. There are definitely some great moments. Kim Basinger as Vicky Vale is outstanding, and her relationship with Batman (and the Joker) is worth the price of admission. (Ever notice how DC comics' leading ladies' names are often alliterations?) And of course, even with a mediocre script, Nicholson as the Joker is a performance not to be missed. He is one of a few actors on the planet that make a sub-par script seem better.

Review of "Piranhaconda" (2012)

"It's the offspring of an unholy union between a piranha and an anaconda."

"...You mean a piranhaconda?"

"...I can't believe you just said that!"

I can't believe I just watched that.

Actually, it's not that bad.  In fact, Piranhaconda gives you exactly what you'd expect from a Sy Fy Channel Original Movie produced by Roger Corman. Nothing more, nothing less. Notice, however, that I said "expect." "Expect" doesn't necessarily mean "Want."

Michael Madsen plays a herpetologist who finds a mythical giant snake in Hawaii. When he steals one of the beast's eggs, he incurs the wrath of the killer Piranhaconda. Madsen gets captured by a bunch of money-grubbing kidnappers who also have set their sights on holding a low-budget movie crew for ransom. Of course, the huge monster messes up their plans.

I have to give at least some credit where it's due: compared to most Sy Fy Channel Original Movies, this movie is a step (a slither?) above the rest. Again, this isn't Shakespeare but for the most part it delivers the gory goods. The titular antagonist is certainly something to see. Sadly, but not shockingly, the same cannot be said of Madsen.  He is clearly just picking up a paycheck here and he remains ostensibly bored throughout the picture.

Visually, it doesn't look too bad. With SyFy, you would expect hackneyed editing, scenery that doesn't give a sense of authenticity, dull lighting and awkward camera angles. In regard to those assets though, Piranhaconda is generally one of their better-looking movies. The editing and camera work is mostly focused and the scenery is striking. You'd also anticipate laughably awful special effects. On the other hand, the Piranhaconda looks alright, there are a few moments where it does look fake, but overall it delivers what the film promised(part-snake, part-fish, all killer), it does look menacing and the movements are less choppy than other SyFy creatures, in fact I was impressed at the amazing speed it moved at. My problem with the Piranhaconda wasn't to do with the design this time. It was to do with how it was developed, you don't find out much about its origin and how it came to be in the jungle.

My bottom line: if you're looking for high art you're obviously in the wrong place, but this movie does offer some good moments.  Good moments, however, doesn't stop its steam from running out before the final commercial break.

Review of "Toy Story" (1995)

Y'know, I always suspected that my toys were coming to life when I wasn't looking! 

In Andy's Room, his toys lead lives of noisy desperation come every birthday and Christmas - no one wants to be one-upped by a new addition to the toy box. Nominally led by Cowboy Woody, Mr. Potato Head, Rex the Dinosaur, Ham the piggy bank, Bo Peep, Slinky the dog and a smattering of other playthings go about their toy business of playing checkers, hanging with the home toys and "plastic corrosion awareness meetings," until Andy's birthday party, when they gather expectantly around a transistor radio, listening to the reports of their toy soldier troops "in the field" (downstairs watching Andy's gift-opening), hoping that no gift will be exciting enough to cause Andy to neglect *them.* There is. His name is Buzz Lightyear, Space Ranger.

Directed by Pixar mainstay John Lasseter, with the voice talents of Tom Hanks (as Woody), Don Rickles, John Ratzenberger (forever Cliff from *Cheers*), R. Lee Ermey, Annie Potts, Jim Varney and Tim Allen (as Buzz), Toy Story is that diamond in the rough that succeeds on all levels – in its animation, storyline, character development, its messages of friendship and self-realization and, most importantly, its entertainment value. The fact that this is an animated feature is incidental. 

Up until this movie broke open the visual toy box, from the early 1980's until the release of this film the "Disney Movie" had become synonymous with maudlin messages, redneck fundamentalism, anachronistic family values, boneheaded parents, smart-mouthing youngsters, too-hip-to-be-smart teens and insufferable pets. Though Disney's tyrannical umbrella overarches this film's production studio, Pixar Animation, Toy Story somehow avoids all trace of the three-fingered white glove of The Mouse, which is doubly surprising considering this is Pixar's first feature length film, after years of experimentation. 

Sure, there are "messages," but they are heartfelt, rather than maudlin (Woody tells Buzz during Buzz's greatest depression that it matters not what Buzz thinks of himself, what makes him important is what his owner, Andy, thinks of him); there are emotional segments, which are truly heartbreaking, rather than cheesy (when Buzz's escape attempt lands him with a broken arm, proving he is Not A Flying Toy, the lyric, "Clearly I will go sailing no more," launches a thousand hankies); and the portrayal of Andy's family was Pixar's triumphal achievement. Boldly contravening Disney's mainstay at the time of the 1950's nuclear family and Norman Rockwell fantasies, one of the many incarnations of a modern-day family is presented: a single mother with two children, who are neither geniuses nor monsters, just normal children; happy to visit Pizza Planet and disappointed when favorite toys are lost.

Buzz – who believes he is a real life space ranger on a mission to save the universe - become Andy's favorite toy over Woody. The funny thing is: though Buzz believes he is real, he still adheres to toy protocol of "playing inert" when humans are in the area. (Maybe it's instinct?) When he mentions saving a toy from Sid, the vicious boy next door, how does he propose to do it if he is to adhere to the inert protocol? Buzz's ingenuousness regarding his role as a toy infuriates Woody to the point of attempted toy-assassination. Through an eerily similar set of accidents, both he and Buzz become lost and must use teamwork, trust and ingenuity to beat their path back to Andy, which finds them ensconced in scorchingly funny vignettes (Buzz fastening himself in an over-sized seatbelt; both falling in with green, three-eyed aliens; Buzz hyperventilating as "Mrs. Nesbitt"). During a climactic rocket ride, the callback line, "This is not flying - this is falling with style," simply seals this movie's greatness.

At least I now have a plausible explanation as to why my toys always got lost: after going about their toy business, they would just go inert anywhere they happened to be, instead of paying attention to their master's infallible toy filing system….

Review of "Finding Nemo" (2003)

(Though I plan on reviewing Pixar's works in chronological order, this will be my one exception, per a request from a long-time college friend)

The digital realm is easily forgotten when you first lock eyes on the visual wonder created for yet another charming tale from Disney/Pixar Animation. Finding Nemo is Pixar's fifth outing and after a moderately spotless track record they keep this one swimming in a wealth of color and three-dimensional form. Their visual language has proven to be a clear and successful method of storytelling. It captures the imagination and accommodates some fairly decent stories to boot.  What setting could be more exciting than Australia's exotic eastern coastline?

However, it's a mix of Pixar's wonderful craft and a well-written story that keeps audiences enthralled, and this time writer/director Andrew Stanton serves up just that, on a silver platter. What remains is the winning formula of comedy and gravity within the screenplay. Stanton has been involved with all the other Pixar features in the past, and it shows. Even deep under the ocean, far removed from the human subtleties that are woven into usual animations, is a rich tapestry of lifelike environments and genuine characters that are easy to connect and relate to. And in the usual Pixar tradition you get a film that bridges the age boundary and becomes wholly enjoyed by all, young and old.

I enjoyed myself for the entire duration of Finding Nemo (that included the final credits). I recommend it to all, no matter what your cinematic preference may be. Besides the lavish visual elements that have made Pixar much admired, this has been a labor of love for Andrew Stanton that started way back in 1992, prior to Toy Story. It's a new development in the path the entire production house is heading. Thomas Newman's involvement in writing music for this project shows us exactly this new direction as his score gives the film a new emotional style. It's also a "new high water mark" for CGI in general. Pixar is now an established force in animation but politely recognizes others in the industry as well. For example, there is the address (amongst other things) Wallaby Way that will be instantly recognizable to Wallace and Gromit fans and a totally tubular Sea Turtle (Crush, voiced by Stanton himself) with a very close resemblance to four post-adolescent martial art amphibian friends of his. There are also plenty of fun references to Jaws, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Monty Python and nearly every previous (and upcoming) Pixar feature. You also have Pixar's own Joe Ranft, who made famous the character of Heimlich the caterpillar from A Bug's Life, making another special appearance as the voice of Jacques the cleaner shrimp. Younger children won't get these in-jokes but for the adults it's a warm welcome.  When it comes down to it Finding Nemo is aimed at just about anyone, as long as they enjoy a well-told and inventive story. From the vibrantly lush to the murky dark, this is an absolute lure for the eyes and a catch-of-the-day for the funnybone. 

Review of "Beauty and the Beast" (1991)

Next up in my Disney sub-series is another of the Mouse's most well-known animated films, Beauty and the Beast.


Indeed, it's a tale as old as time, with a complex message that is as ageless as it is universal; but beneath all the layers it can be summed up very simply: love one another, and refrain from judging others who `seem' to be `different.' And leave it to Disney to present it in such a way that it can be embraced and understood by young and old alike as they have here, in one of their best animated features ever, directed by Gary Trousdale. When a young Prince fails the test of an enchantress disguised as an old hag, she transforms him into a hideous beast, as he is destined to remain until he opens his heart and learns how to love and be loved in return. And so that he'll know where he stands as time goes by, she gives him an enchanted rose, which will bloom until his twenty-first birthday, and he has only until the last petal falls from the flower to effect the change within himself that will be his salvation. 

The beast, however, seems doomed, as he shuts himself away, alone in his castle, taking up a reclusive existence far from everyone and everything. Until, one day, a beautiful young woman named Belle shows up at his doorstep. Belle is searching for her inventor father, Maurice, who disappeared while taking one of his latest inventions to the fair; and his trail leads Belle to the castle of the Beast, where she discovers he is being held prisoner, having run afoul of the Beast by trespassing while lost during the night of his journey. Repulsed by the appearance of the Beast, Belle nevertheless strikes a bargain with him: If he will release her father, she will stay in his place. The Beast agrees, with the stipulation that she must remain with him forever. And as the Beast casts Belle's father from the castle and sends him on his way, Belle's fate seems sealed. The only hope now for either Belle or the Beast lies in the remote possibility that true love may somehow prevail before the last petal of the enchanted rose falls.

With the help of a richly textured screenplay (by Linda Woolverton) that invests the characters with a depth of humanity that is often lacking even in `non' animated films, and an Oscar winning score by Alan Menken, director Trousdale provides some real insights into human nature in this retelling of the familiar story of how true love can change even the darkest and coldest of hearts. There's magic in this film, which holds an enchantment of it's own, and the message is presented ever so subtly and with a sensitivity that draws you in gradually until you are so caught up in the story that you become immersed and totally involved without being consciously aware of it. It's a film that enfolds you and takes you where it will, and you go willingly. A beautifully rendered and realized film that successfully transcends it's genre, it is the first animated feature ever to be recognized and rewarded with an Oscar nomination for Best Movie (quite a feat in itself, as it received the nod over such films as The Fisher King, Fried Green Tomatoes, Thelma and Louise and John Singleton's Boyz N the Hood that year). 

The talented cast supplying the voices of the characters includes Paige O'Hara (Belle), Robby Benson (The Beast), Richard White (Gaston), Jerry Orbach (Lumiere), David Ogden Stiers (Cogsworth), Angela Lansbury (Mrs. Potts), Bradley Pierce (Chip), Rex Everhart (Maurice), Jesse Corti (LeFou), Hal Smith (Phillipe), Jo Ann Worley (Wardrobe), Brian Cummings (Stove), Alvin Epstein (Bookseller) and Kimmy Robertson (Featherduster). There's a scene in this film that is so entrancing and so emotionally involving that it stands up against the best from any drama ever made: As Angela Lansbury (as Mrs. Potts) sings the Oscar winning title song, Belle begins to perceive the true nature of the man within the Beast; and it's no longer the cold-hearted Prince upon whom the enchantress cast her spell, because he has changed. As they come together and the Beast takes Belle in his arms, sweeping her in dance across the elegant ballroom floor, it becomes one of those rare cinematic `moments' that are entirely transporting, and it does, indeed, take you away. It's a memorable scene that exemplifies the quality and craftsmanship of this film, as does the scene in which the Beast is at last transformed; that such emotion can be captured and expressed in an animated film is an exemplary accomplishment, and it's all a part of why Beauty and the Beast is one of Disney's all-time greatest films. 

One final note: Stay for the credits to hear Alan Menken and Howard Ashman's title song once again, this time performed by Celine Dion and Peabo Bryson. Hypnotically beautiful, this version has a magic all it's own and makes the perfect ending to an enchanting experience. It's all a part of the magic of the movies.

Review of "Aladdin" (1992)

This time around, I figured I would make my wife and two daughters happy, and begin a sub-section of these reviews where I will focus on animation, mainly from the fantastic magicians of Disney/Pixar.  The story of Aladdin, from a collection of stories dating back more than a millennium, has been filmed dozens of times in dozens of variations. However, none was ever filmed as creatively, humorously and family friendly as Disney Studios did in 1992. The success of the movie owes much to the talents of Robin Williams, whose manic impersonations and characterizations propel this movie along at a frantic pace. Disney also kept the story of Aladdin and Princess Jasmine simple, helping the appeal of the movie. This story is relatively simple, cutting out much of the detail from the original story. Aladdin (voiced by Scott Weinger), is a teenager trying to find enough to eat in Baghdad. Though Aladdin steals food and is a bit of a rogue, he also has a sense of fairness, honor and innocence, a "diamond in the rough" that evil Grand Vizier Jafar (voiced by Jonathan Freeman) needs to enter the Cave of Wonders to steal the magic lamp. Aladdin enters the cave and finds the lamp, but uses the lamp to escape and become Prince Ali in an attempt to win the heart and hand of Princess Jasmine (voiced by Linda Larkin). As we learn early in the movie, Princess Jasmine wants nothing to do with phonies and princes; she is looking for someone to whom she can give her heart, someone who will understand and love her. Prince Ali is not that person. Jafar wants the power of being the Sultan of Baghdad. His plan is simple, get the lamp, gain absolute power, marry Jasmine, and take over the world; not necessarily in that order. I would be remiss if I failed to mention Jafar's trusty adviser Iago the Parrot, voiced by the always obnoxious and, certainly in the case of this movie, funny Gilbert Gottfried. Perhaps if Jafar had not had a parrot as an adviser, things might have turned out different for him.


 The animation in this edition of the movie is marvelous. The colors are bright and images are quite clear.  Another wonderful feature of this movie is the music. The standout song is "A Whole New World," but I also liked "Prince Ali" and "One Jump Ahead." Alan Menken's score and Tim Rice's music garnered an Oscar for Menken and an Oscar for Menken and Rice. In fact, this movie won 22 significant awards and was nominated for another 15. Aladdin is a good guy trying to survive in a tough world. Princess Jasmine is naïve and innocent. Aladdin's love for Jasmine is pure and teenage and children and teenagers everywhere will identify with Aladdin's angst. The song and dance routines of Robin Williams' Genie keep the overall tone of this movie light, which is necessary to help balance the evil of Grand Vizier Jafar (voiced by Jonathan Freeman). I recommend this movie for all members of the family except for the very youngest members, who may be frightened by the images of Jafar and the Genie is a couple of the scenes. Most children ages 4 and above should be able to watch this movie with little difficulty. 


I'll leave you with some little-known trivia:


--This film became the first animated movie to gross more than (US) $200 million.
--Throughout the film, whenever Aladdin tells a lie, the plume on his turban falls and covers his face.
--This is (as of this post) the only traditionally animated feature to be nominated for the MTV Movie Award for Best Picture.

Review of "The Amazing Spider Man" (2012)

Ten years might seem too soon to reboot a franchise, but after the bloated and lackluster third film from 2007, going back to basics isn't that bad an idea after all. That's exactly what The Amazing Spider Man does, booting out previous franchise stalwarts Sam Raimi, Tobey Maguire, Kirsten Dunst and James Franco for up-and-coming director Marc Webb (with only the indie feature 500 Days of Summer under his belt) and similarly on-the-up stars Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone. It's a bold move all right, but in this instance one that pays off handsomely in the form of an enormously entertaining blockbuster piece of entertainment that I dare say surpasses the original.

To be sure, this isn't quite 'the untold story' that the pre-publicity machine sold it as. Rather, screenwriters James Vanderbilt, Alvin Sargent and Steve Kloves (with story credit to Vanderbilt) re-assemble the key elements of Peter Parker's origin story for a fresh new take on the familiar. So once again, Peter is the nerdy and socially awkward teenager who lives with his Uncle Ben and Aunt May, who one day gets bitten by a genetically modified spider and develops superhuman powers, who uses his powers for play until his Uncle Ben gets killed, and then is thrust into a quest for justice to hunt down the killer that ultimately leads him to recognize the responsibility that comes with possessing such powers.

Like I said, this is no mere rehash, and both Webb (am I the only one who finds it fitting that his last name is Webb?) and his team of writers find opportunities at every turn to expand and adjust the little details that make a difference. Parker's father, for instance, plays a much more central role to the narrative, and the crucial wrestling episode between Parker and opponent Bonesaw McGraw in Sam Raimi's original is reduced with a wink to a brief moment that inspires his Spidey mask. More significantly, Webb tones down the comic-book feel of Raimi's original and goes the way of recent superhero movies by injecting a stronger dose of drama into the material.

Though Parker's abandonment issues have always featured in the Spider Man films, Webb's spin on it is by far the most emotionally poignant, drawing an intimate link with Parker's identity crisis that forms the backbone of the story. Indeed, that's also how the film's villain, Dr Curt Connors (Rhys Ifans), has been sketched. Both hero and adversary are characters isolated in their own way- two sides of the same coin if you may- not so different from the dynamic between Batman and the Joker in Nolan's The Dark Knight.

Nonetheless, fans can rest easy that Webb doesn't take his movie down a similarly dark and gloomy path- instead, there is much cheer and spark in the romance between Parker and classmate Gwen Stacy (Emma Stone), who proves to be a much more interesting character than Mary-Jane Watson ever was in three films. That's undoubtedly a result of the chemistry between reel-turned-real life sweethearts Garfield and Stone, but a key difference here is that Stacy is no longer just the sweet girl-next-door but a smart and sassy individual perfectly capable of being Parker's intellectual equal. Their romance has the zing of Webb's earlier Summer, and more than justifies why the commercials director was chosen over so many others to take the helm of this movie.

Webb also has much fun with Parker's discovery of his newfound superhuman capabilities before the film takes a more decidedly serious tone- and a subway scene where the lanky teenager easily overpowers five other burly men in the same carriage (while ripping the clothes off another lady passenger) is neatly choreographed and perfectly staged. Ditto another where he hijacks a car-jacking thief in action (briefly seen in the trailers), which also marks the start of a tongue-in-cheek move he makes whenever some villain refuses to shut up or confess. 

In between the intricate webs of romance, comedy and drama, Webb weaves in another layer of action that perfectly complements the earlier elements. The first major setpiece on the Williamsburg Bridge sets the tone for the rest to follow- eschewing all-out spectacle for more emotionally-driven thrills- culminating in a harrowing rescue of a young boy from a burning car hanging off the side of the bridge that proves to be unexpectedly moving. Likewise the climactic sequence set atop a New York skyscraper (similarity to 'The Avengers' aside) has more emotional beats than you would expect- in particular relating to Spiderman's status as a masked vigilante- and ends on a surprisingly sombre note that brings the human dimensions of the tale to a fully satisfying finish.

A huge reason why Webb's drama-centric approach works is the excellent casting. There's no other way to describe it than to say that Garfield is brilliant as Parker/ Spider-Man. He nails the tongue-in-cheek one- liners, and navigates the character beats between tortured teenager and born-again superhero with admirable ease.I have said this before, but it bears mentioning again- his scenes with Stone sparkle with verve. Not unlike Raimi's original, his scenes with supporting leads Martin Sheen and Sally Field provide some of the most heartwarming moments in the movie. To compare Garfield's performance with that of Maguire's is inconsequential really, and it suffices to say that Garfield brings a different, but no less unique, personality to the iconic character.

Indeed, the same can be said of the film as a whole, reassembling the familiar elements of Spider-Man's origin story into a refreshing blend of action and emotion. Working off the template of Raimi's original and inspired by recent character-driven superhero movies, Webb delivers an emotionally thrilling and adrenaline-pumping blockbuster that counts amongst one of the best Marvel page-to-screen adaptations. And unlike post-conversion efforts, the decision to shoot in 3D ensures that the POV shots of Spiderman swinging down Fifth Avenue or battling the Lizard atop the Oscorp skyscraper are positively awe-inspiring, adding an additional dimension of excitement especially when viewed in IMAX.  Prepare to be Amazed!