Two months ago I started working as an English teacher in Toronto so I haven't had too much time to continue writing reviews. But I feel that I need to take some time out of my weekend to write something about this shitpile of a movie, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2.
First of all, what exactly makes Harry Potter so special? He doesn't do anything outstanding in this movie that merits a Christ-like reverence. We see him shoot lasers out of his wand - but everybody can do that.
And how come Valldemore can read his thoughts sometimes and know exactly what he's doing at the beginning, but when Harry Potter is in the next room when he's killing that old dude, he has no idea he's there? Furthermore, I would assume that Valdemort, at the very least, would be able to know if he was dead or alive. But when Potter is pretending to be dead, Valdemart talks the school up like he's sure he's dead. The magic is inconsistent. How can viewers enjoy this crap?
And that tall dude: he zaps up the wooden bridge when a plethora of bad guys are chasing him. The bridge collapses and everyone falls to their death (I assume). So then we see a flat angle of the bridge where it ends, and a bunch of wizard good guys are staring at it, wondering what happened to him. But then we see him climb up. He's alive! Okay, great. But what happened? How did it happen? Why did it happen? Things just fucking happen in this movie and we don't know why or how. Lazy writing.
And what about the part when Harry Potter puts his face in the water with that dude's tears? Why didn't he take his glasses off? And when his face comes up, his face and glasses are dry. What the fuck!
And so then he gets zapped by Waldemart and he dies, or something. Then he wakes up in a white hallway and talks to someone. Why is wearing clothes from American Apparel? And if that's the way he envisions himself, then why didn't he have his glasses on? What a stupid movie!!!!!
And when that guy came out of nowhere and cut the snake's head off? How did he get there at that time? The last time we saw him he was on the ground and merely staring at the sword. And now he's here just in time to save the two secondary characters, the red head and his girlfriend with the brown hair?
And that reminds me. Those two secondary characters, the brown-haired girl and the redhead. This movie suffers from what I call the Von Trapp syndrome: the plague that lazily written movies have when characters need to be in a room at a certain time and the writers can't think of anything else for them to do except stand in a row listening and watching to what's happening. Harry Potter is talking to some short goblin at the beginning of this movie. The two of them just stand there watching. Couldn't the writers give them something to do? Or something to say?? Every time they're in a scene with Harry Potter, they just stand there doing nothing. It's lame!
Worst movie I've seen this year, so far.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Source Code
Source Code is spoiler-sensitive; a single sentence could ruin the experience the filmmakers intended. It is what may be referred to as a "roller-coaster" experience, with twists and turns and more twists and all that exciting stuff. Knowing this, I will make sure that I don't explain too much of the plot. And I would be careful reading reviews that don't preface this kind of assurance since a thorough explanation of the plot could compromise the surprises and clever reveals with which the film is put together. And to be frank, these surprises are why it's worth seeing. The science-fiction component has interesting ideas, but their execution is inconsistent. I saw the film with J.D. A two-hour post-film discussion on what we had just seen took place and only a very rough consensus was made. But more on that later.
Jake Gyllenhaal plays a soldier who is being sent somewhere that looks like a moving train a few hours ago but actually isn't. Actually, the words "sent" and "somewhere" are misleading because where he's being "sent" has no spatial existence. But, even though it merely looks like the past, it is a perfect representation of the world as it existed at that time. In other words, it looks really really really real.
But he's not going as himself, he is usurping another body. When he looks into the mirror, he sees another man. The film, because it assumes its audiences would otherwise get confused, shows the man as Jake Gyllenhaal, even though the man looks completely different to the other passengers. I think it would have been cooler if, when he woke up, we actually saw the man he was usurping instead of Jake Gyllenhaal so that we could, you know, figure out through good acting that he was being occupied by a different mind. Oh well.
Did I mention the train blows up? I mean, what else would it do? Make all regular station stops?
After eight minutes he wakes up in a capsule. He is told by military personnel to keep doing it until he finds the guy who blew up the train.
Okay I won't say any more about the plot. All plot exposition I've given you learn by the first, oh, I dunno, say, 13 minutes? Maybe I've said too much. This is after all, a roller-coaster movie. The entire first half of the film is cut together so that you are left completely in the dark as to what is going on. There are a few red herrings that in retrospect kind of, if you will, stink up the film. But it is an exciting film if you can temporarily forget about them, which I did.
About halfway through the movie, you sort of learn what's going on. The film assumes we know enough. Maybe we do. But I should point out something.
After discussing the events of the film with J.D., I read some reviews on the internet. There is no clear consensus as to what is actually happening in this film. You may have heard that it is a time travel film. Ryan Lambie from Den Of Geek describes the plot as (don't worry I won't give anything away) that of a man who is required to "travel repeatedly back … in time." Peter Howell of The Toronto Star writes, perhaps facetiously, that he is able to "twist time, space and DNA." But some critics are clear in their review that it is not a time travel film. Tim Robey from The Telegraph writes that "[i]f it sounds like time travel, it isn't." And Mick LaSalle from the San Francisco Chronicle writes that a certain object that is integral to the plot (I remind the reader I am being vague purposely) is "not, strictly speaking, real," and that we are seeing "a kind of echo memory." Some critics don't commit either way. Ryan Fleming from Digital Trends writes of certain sequences: "It is not real, and yet in a sense it is." If you're confused by that, you should be; it makes no sense, and yet in a sense it does.
It can't be a time travel movie because when he supposedly goes back in time, all changes he makes have no effect on the future. The pseudo-science babble also clearly states that it isn't time travel, and that the world he sees is made up of information collected from electric-magnetic signals emitted by humans in the surrounding area. Or something crazy like that. But it can't be an "echo memory" because the traveller doesn't have the memories of the body he's usurping. He has his own memories. And he also is able to explore areas of which the usurped body had no experience. The critics who talked about parallel realities are closest to getting it right. The film suggests strongly that the worlds he revisits are just as real as the reality from which he came.
The film is a better roller-coaster than it is an exhibition of science-fiction ideas. There are ambiguities that left me asking a lot of questions, and some of them could be answered with intelligent argumentation, using clues provided throughout the film. Some of them, however, suggested lazy writing. For example, what happens to the mind of the body Gyllenhaal's character usurps? Does he cease to exist? And if he does, then what kind of reality is it where a mind randomly enters it and takes over its body? How real can that reality be? And the end. Oh my God, the end. What the hell was that?
This film resulted less in discussion of its ideas and more in attempts to make it intelligible. In the end, J.D. and I had to agree that there isn't enough conclusive evidence to support any one of our several theories. This isn't always a bad thing, but somehow, for Source Code, it was a bad thing.
Jake Gyllenhaal plays a soldier who is being sent somewhere that looks like a moving train a few hours ago but actually isn't. Actually, the words "sent" and "somewhere" are misleading because where he's being "sent" has no spatial existence. But, even though it merely looks like the past, it is a perfect representation of the world as it existed at that time. In other words, it looks really really really real.
But he's not going as himself, he is usurping another body. When he looks into the mirror, he sees another man. The film, because it assumes its audiences would otherwise get confused, shows the man as Jake Gyllenhaal, even though the man looks completely different to the other passengers. I think it would have been cooler if, when he woke up, we actually saw the man he was usurping instead of Jake Gyllenhaal so that we could, you know, figure out through good acting that he was being occupied by a different mind. Oh well.
Did I mention the train blows up? I mean, what else would it do? Make all regular station stops?
After eight minutes he wakes up in a capsule. He is told by military personnel to keep doing it until he finds the guy who blew up the train.
Okay I won't say any more about the plot. All plot exposition I've given you learn by the first, oh, I dunno, say, 13 minutes? Maybe I've said too much. This is after all, a roller-coaster movie. The entire first half of the film is cut together so that you are left completely in the dark as to what is going on. There are a few red herrings that in retrospect kind of, if you will, stink up the film. But it is an exciting film if you can temporarily forget about them, which I did.
About halfway through the movie, you sort of learn what's going on. The film assumes we know enough. Maybe we do. But I should point out something.
After discussing the events of the film with J.D., I read some reviews on the internet. There is no clear consensus as to what is actually happening in this film. You may have heard that it is a time travel film. Ryan Lambie from Den Of Geek describes the plot as (don't worry I won't give anything away) that of a man who is required to "travel repeatedly back … in time." Peter Howell of The Toronto Star writes, perhaps facetiously, that he is able to "twist time, space and DNA." But some critics are clear in their review that it is not a time travel film. Tim Robey from The Telegraph writes that "[i]f it sounds like time travel, it isn't." And Mick LaSalle from the San Francisco Chronicle writes that a certain object that is integral to the plot (I remind the reader I am being vague purposely) is "not, strictly speaking, real," and that we are seeing "a kind of echo memory." Some critics don't commit either way. Ryan Fleming from Digital Trends writes of certain sequences: "It is not real, and yet in a sense it is." If you're confused by that, you should be; it makes no sense, and yet in a sense it does.
It can't be a time travel movie because when he supposedly goes back in time, all changes he makes have no effect on the future. The pseudo-science babble also clearly states that it isn't time travel, and that the world he sees is made up of information collected from electric-magnetic signals emitted by humans in the surrounding area. Or something crazy like that. But it can't be an "echo memory" because the traveller doesn't have the memories of the body he's usurping. He has his own memories. And he also is able to explore areas of which the usurped body had no experience. The critics who talked about parallel realities are closest to getting it right. The film suggests strongly that the worlds he revisits are just as real as the reality from which he came.
The film is a better roller-coaster than it is an exhibition of science-fiction ideas. There are ambiguities that left me asking a lot of questions, and some of them could be answered with intelligent argumentation, using clues provided throughout the film. Some of them, however, suggested lazy writing. For example, what happens to the mind of the body Gyllenhaal's character usurps? Does he cease to exist? And if he does, then what kind of reality is it where a mind randomly enters it and takes over its body? How real can that reality be? And the end. Oh my God, the end. What the hell was that?
This film resulted less in discussion of its ideas and more in attempts to make it intelligible. In the end, J.D. and I had to agree that there isn't enough conclusive evidence to support any one of our several theories. This isn't always a bad thing, but somehow, for Source Code, it was a bad thing.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Des hommes et des dieux (Of Gods And Men)
When Sucker Punch is one of the most interesting films in a theatre near you, it's time to take a trip to the theatres out of town and way behind. Right now is the best time of the year to go to them because they are about three to four months behind, and three to four months ago was when films were released so they'd be noticed by the Academy.
Last week I went to The Bookshelf, a quaint little theatre slash book store slash cafe slash lounge. Yes, all of these things are located in a single building. It's all connected. It's pretty cool! The Bookshelf shows movies that you wouldn't think citizens of Guelph would have the privilege to see. It's not fair, really. It helps that my girlfriend lives in Guelph, the city in which it's located, and that she was happy to tag along. We saw Des hommes et des dieux, France's submission for the Best Foreign Language Film this year.
The film failed to get a nomination. And after the first twenty minutes of the film, I thought I knew why. It was established that eight Christian monks live together in a monastery. They eat together, they till their soil, they study, they write sermons, and they sing hymns. As far as I was concerned, no story was being told yet.
But by forty minutes it was clear what the film is doing. These monks have situated themselves in a country in wartime; not only are they the spiritual bedrock of its peaceful citizens, they provide health care and medicine to victims. And now, as violence escalates and the risk increases, the monks are urged by the Algerian and French governments to leave. They question their resolve. The will of God is under scrutiny. The film asks some pretty big questions. To what extent should we determine our lives? If one has committed to something, can certain death be a breaking point?
A quick Google search yields that the film is based on incidents occurring during the Algerian civil war. I would warn moviegoers, if they don't already know, not to learn the details of those incidents before watching it because they are not the film's focus. I knew the details, and as a result I felt unnecessarily anxious during the film, anticipating a turbulent and devastating climax. I was happy that the film didn't go that route. The film is not meant to be a portrayal of violent events of a particular war. I don't recall Algeria being mentioned once. It's better if it isn't. The scope of this film is beyond the events of a particular war. The film is about the desire for peace, and the commitment to total humility, in the face of war.
There's an extent to which the film can be criticized for being a bit too long, or causing a yawn or two. Or four. The scene with the two bottles of wine - if you've seen it you know what I mean - is edited awkwardly. It didn't have the emotional punch it could have had. But the sum of these criticisms just don't add up to much when weighed against its idea, which its focus and its main point. Appropriately, the same applies to its characters. Say what you want about Christianity; you can't argue against a good will, with or without a Christian semblance.
In case it isn't clear, I would see this again. It would have been worth the trip from Toronto to Guelph to see it instead of Sucker Punch. Even in terms of visual experience, Des hommes et des dieux excels as its final shot, with shrewd focus and choreography, gives a visual representation of a concept of peace the Christian monks strive for. It was thought-provoking and more satisfying than a single frame of Sucker Punch.
I would show it to a world religions class after teaching Abrahamic religions. Christianity and Islam are put in a holistic perspective, and treated with equal respect. The film takes no sides.
I caught the last showing of the film. This week The Bookshelf starts showing The King's Speech (the original), I Love You Philip Morris, and short films from Cannes. All holdovers from 2010 that are generally acclaimed. But Source Code looks pretty good so it might be okay to go to a theatre near you now.
Last week I went to The Bookshelf, a quaint little theatre slash book store slash cafe slash lounge. Yes, all of these things are located in a single building. It's all connected. It's pretty cool! The Bookshelf shows movies that you wouldn't think citizens of Guelph would have the privilege to see. It's not fair, really. It helps that my girlfriend lives in Guelph, the city in which it's located, and that she was happy to tag along. We saw Des hommes et des dieux, France's submission for the Best Foreign Language Film this year.
The film failed to get a nomination. And after the first twenty minutes of the film, I thought I knew why. It was established that eight Christian monks live together in a monastery. They eat together, they till their soil, they study, they write sermons, and they sing hymns. As far as I was concerned, no story was being told yet.
But by forty minutes it was clear what the film is doing. These monks have situated themselves in a country in wartime; not only are they the spiritual bedrock of its peaceful citizens, they provide health care and medicine to victims. And now, as violence escalates and the risk increases, the monks are urged by the Algerian and French governments to leave. They question their resolve. The will of God is under scrutiny. The film asks some pretty big questions. To what extent should we determine our lives? If one has committed to something, can certain death be a breaking point?
A quick Google search yields that the film is based on incidents occurring during the Algerian civil war. I would warn moviegoers, if they don't already know, not to learn the details of those incidents before watching it because they are not the film's focus. I knew the details, and as a result I felt unnecessarily anxious during the film, anticipating a turbulent and devastating climax. I was happy that the film didn't go that route. The film is not meant to be a portrayal of violent events of a particular war. I don't recall Algeria being mentioned once. It's better if it isn't. The scope of this film is beyond the events of a particular war. The film is about the desire for peace, and the commitment to total humility, in the face of war.
There's an extent to which the film can be criticized for being a bit too long, or causing a yawn or two. Or four. The scene with the two bottles of wine - if you've seen it you know what I mean - is edited awkwardly. It didn't have the emotional punch it could have had. But the sum of these criticisms just don't add up to much when weighed against its idea, which its focus and its main point. Appropriately, the same applies to its characters. Say what you want about Christianity; you can't argue against a good will, with or without a Christian semblance.
In case it isn't clear, I would see this again. It would have been worth the trip from Toronto to Guelph to see it instead of Sucker Punch. Even in terms of visual experience, Des hommes et des dieux excels as its final shot, with shrewd focus and choreography, gives a visual representation of a concept of peace the Christian monks strive for. It was thought-provoking and more satisfying than a single frame of Sucker Punch.
I would show it to a world religions class after teaching Abrahamic religions. Christianity and Islam are put in a holistic perspective, and treated with equal respect. The film takes no sides.
I caught the last showing of the film. This week The Bookshelf starts showing The King's Speech (the original), I Love You Philip Morris, and short films from Cannes. All holdovers from 2010 that are generally acclaimed. But Source Code looks pretty good so it might be okay to go to a theatre near you now.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Sucker Punch
I'm afraid I might not have been completely fair to Battle Los Angeles. I was almost positive Battle Los Angeles would be a bad film before I watched it. I presupposed it was bad. I am not recanting any statements nor suggesting that the film is not boring and a waste of time, but it may have been unfair of me to go into a movie with such an attitude that might preclude it from making a positive impression on me.
To make this confession more shameful, I neglected to write in my review of Battle Los Angeles that I was touched by the last minute. I imagine that many critics probably discredited the film for shamelessly and predictably leaving the film essentially unfinished and open-ended to suggest a sequel and a Battle franchise. But I think it effectively conveys strong leadership and determination in a central character that is otherwise inadequately developed. I should have mentioned that.
J.D., with whom I saw Battle Los Angeles, updated his Facebook status yesterday that he was going to continue his trend of seeing bad films and see the new Zack Snyder film that night. He had called me the day before and asked if I wanted to see it with him. I said that I'd hang out with him and made no guarantee I'd see the film. But when I read his Facebook status, I realized that only with great resistance and an awkward social situation would I get out of seeing it.
But here I was again, thinking I didn't want to see it, presupposing its quality. I decided to change my perspective. Sure, it has an even lower percentage on Rotten Tomatoes than Battle Los Angeles, but I wonder how many other critics presuppose the quality of a female version of the Gerard Butler epic, 300? I figured if I put up no resistance and see the film with optimism, I could see things other people missed. Maybe I'll actually enjoy it. After all, I am paying to see it; it is only rational to believe that I am spending money for something that will I enjoy.
I wasn't stupid about this. I had read Peter Howell's review in The Toronto Star that the story does not make sense, and that the acting is flat. I knew I wouldn't enjoy it for the writing or the acting. I enjoyed Watchmen, one of Snyder's previous films, but I enjoyed it as a fanboy. Familiar with the comic book on which its based, Snyder's filmmaking talents were not on trial so much as his loyalty to the source material. But the visuals were extraordinary. This was my best clue to enjoying Sucker Punch. I figured that if I was going to enjoy this film, it was probably going to be on that basis alone. I adjusted my expectations accordingly.
As it turns out, there is a lot more going on in Sucker Punch than I thought it would have. It is certainly better than Battle Los Angeles and it might be the most interesting movie in theatres right now. It is not just the visuals that are worth seeing in Sucker Punch. The visuals are lovely; Snyder makes ugly and scary look good. But the film's narrative form is bizarre, which comes as a pleasant surprise. It's confusing and perhaps unintelligible, and I don't like the film enough to ever watch it again, but it was definitely more unique than I expected it to be. I've never seen a movie executed quite like this before. I challenge anyone to name a title with a story told like this.
The story, to refute Peter Howell, makes some sense. Actually, there are two stories and they both make sense. In the first story, a young girl, played by Emily Browning, is unjustly committed to a mental institution where she is subject to primitive surgical practices and the authority of corrupt guards. In the second story, a young girl, played by Emily Browning, is, at the consent of a priest, unwillingly adopted by a burlesque establishment, the owners of which subject their dancers to public dancing and prostitution. They're implausible, absurd, offensive perhaps, but they make sense.
Most of the film tells the second story. After some workplace drama, the young girl, dubbed Baby Doll, convinces four other captives to help her attain several items needed to escape. Their method is thievery amid distraction by Baby Doll's exceptionally arousing dance routine. Here's where it gets even weirder. Baby Doll's dance routines are never shown. When her dances begin, the film cuts to an epic action sequence. For example, Baby Doll and her four helpers at one point try to attain a map of the burlesque establishment. The plan is that while Baby Doll distracts the management with her dance, one of her helpers, Sweet Pea, will sneak into an office and get a copy of the map posted on the wall. I guess she makes an offscreen photocopy or something. But when Baby Doll starts her dance, the film cuts to a fantasy world: a battlefield in which the five girls are slaughtering robots with gas masks. They are looking for a map in this fantasy too. After much killing and explosions, they find the map. This might have been a fifteen-minute sequence. I can't say it wasn't entertaining. When the action sequence is over, the film cuts back to reality, where Baby Doll's dance is over and Sweet Pea has acquired the map, their mission accomplished. The five girls rejoice backstage in their dressing room.
The film thus defines a formula here that it follows throughout the film: workplace drama, followed by scheming, followed by dance routine and action sequence, followed by rejoicing, repeat. It gets tiresome.
Other critics, including Howell, have claimed that the action sequences are the best part of Sucker Punch. It is a sad truth. If all you like are the action sequences, you're going to be ripping the skin off of your arms waiting for them because they appear about as often as commercial breaks during a TV programme. Faithful to its formula, there aren't many of them, and they aren't important to the story, or stories. I think the film tries to suggest that they somehow represent the girls' turbulent inner strength or their passion for justice or something vague like that. Whatever they mean, as good as they look, they are inconsequential.
The film needs more focus. One of the stories should have been cut, and more care should have been taken to connect fantasies to their reality counterparts. There were moments where, due to the bizarre nature of the film, I was not able to predict the film, which evoked a genuine feeling of concern for the certain characters. But by the last ten minutes of the film, the film had slipped in and out of different stories and fantasies so much that I didn't care who was dead or who survived, who escaped or who got caught. I couldn't seriously invest interest in one story over another, in one character in one story over the same character in another story, or in one character played by one actor in one story over a different character played by the same actor in another story. Wow. Now this review is unintelligible.
When the film ends, I think the film tries to suggest that the action sequences were representations of the inner battles we face in life. Or something like that. I was unmoved. But hey, I wasn't expecting a well-written film, and neither should anyone going to see it. It is visually interesting with an ambitious narrative structure. The music is great as well, with covers of familiar tunes and an old Björk favourite played up to three times. Original music would have been preferred.
So yeah, I'll probably never see this movie again.
To make this confession more shameful, I neglected to write in my review of Battle Los Angeles that I was touched by the last minute. I imagine that many critics probably discredited the film for shamelessly and predictably leaving the film essentially unfinished and open-ended to suggest a sequel and a Battle franchise. But I think it effectively conveys strong leadership and determination in a central character that is otherwise inadequately developed. I should have mentioned that.
J.D., with whom I saw Battle Los Angeles, updated his Facebook status yesterday that he was going to continue his trend of seeing bad films and see the new Zack Snyder film that night. He had called me the day before and asked if I wanted to see it with him. I said that I'd hang out with him and made no guarantee I'd see the film. But when I read his Facebook status, I realized that only with great resistance and an awkward social situation would I get out of seeing it.
But here I was again, thinking I didn't want to see it, presupposing its quality. I decided to change my perspective. Sure, it has an even lower percentage on Rotten Tomatoes than Battle Los Angeles, but I wonder how many other critics presuppose the quality of a female version of the Gerard Butler epic, 300? I figured if I put up no resistance and see the film with optimism, I could see things other people missed. Maybe I'll actually enjoy it. After all, I am paying to see it; it is only rational to believe that I am spending money for something that will I enjoy.
I wasn't stupid about this. I had read Peter Howell's review in The Toronto Star that the story does not make sense, and that the acting is flat. I knew I wouldn't enjoy it for the writing or the acting. I enjoyed Watchmen, one of Snyder's previous films, but I enjoyed it as a fanboy. Familiar with the comic book on which its based, Snyder's filmmaking talents were not on trial so much as his loyalty to the source material. But the visuals were extraordinary. This was my best clue to enjoying Sucker Punch. I figured that if I was going to enjoy this film, it was probably going to be on that basis alone. I adjusted my expectations accordingly.
As it turns out, there is a lot more going on in Sucker Punch than I thought it would have. It is certainly better than Battle Los Angeles and it might be the most interesting movie in theatres right now. It is not just the visuals that are worth seeing in Sucker Punch. The visuals are lovely; Snyder makes ugly and scary look good. But the film's narrative form is bizarre, which comes as a pleasant surprise. It's confusing and perhaps unintelligible, and I don't like the film enough to ever watch it again, but it was definitely more unique than I expected it to be. I've never seen a movie executed quite like this before. I challenge anyone to name a title with a story told like this.
The story, to refute Peter Howell, makes some sense. Actually, there are two stories and they both make sense. In the first story, a young girl, played by Emily Browning, is unjustly committed to a mental institution where she is subject to primitive surgical practices and the authority of corrupt guards. In the second story, a young girl, played by Emily Browning, is, at the consent of a priest, unwillingly adopted by a burlesque establishment, the owners of which subject their dancers to public dancing and prostitution. They're implausible, absurd, offensive perhaps, but they make sense.
Most of the film tells the second story. After some workplace drama, the young girl, dubbed Baby Doll, convinces four other captives to help her attain several items needed to escape. Their method is thievery amid distraction by Baby Doll's exceptionally arousing dance routine. Here's where it gets even weirder. Baby Doll's dance routines are never shown. When her dances begin, the film cuts to an epic action sequence. For example, Baby Doll and her four helpers at one point try to attain a map of the burlesque establishment. The plan is that while Baby Doll distracts the management with her dance, one of her helpers, Sweet Pea, will sneak into an office and get a copy of the map posted on the wall. I guess she makes an offscreen photocopy or something. But when Baby Doll starts her dance, the film cuts to a fantasy world: a battlefield in which the five girls are slaughtering robots with gas masks. They are looking for a map in this fantasy too. After much killing and explosions, they find the map. This might have been a fifteen-minute sequence. I can't say it wasn't entertaining. When the action sequence is over, the film cuts back to reality, where Baby Doll's dance is over and Sweet Pea has acquired the map, their mission accomplished. The five girls rejoice backstage in their dressing room.
The film thus defines a formula here that it follows throughout the film: workplace drama, followed by scheming, followed by dance routine and action sequence, followed by rejoicing, repeat. It gets tiresome.
Other critics, including Howell, have claimed that the action sequences are the best part of Sucker Punch. It is a sad truth. If all you like are the action sequences, you're going to be ripping the skin off of your arms waiting for them because they appear about as often as commercial breaks during a TV programme. Faithful to its formula, there aren't many of them, and they aren't important to the story, or stories. I think the film tries to suggest that they somehow represent the girls' turbulent inner strength or their passion for justice or something vague like that. Whatever they mean, as good as they look, they are inconsequential.
The film needs more focus. One of the stories should have been cut, and more care should have been taken to connect fantasies to their reality counterparts. There were moments where, due to the bizarre nature of the film, I was not able to predict the film, which evoked a genuine feeling of concern for the certain characters. But by the last ten minutes of the film, the film had slipped in and out of different stories and fantasies so much that I didn't care who was dead or who survived, who escaped or who got caught. I couldn't seriously invest interest in one story over another, in one character in one story over the same character in another story, or in one character played by one actor in one story over a different character played by the same actor in another story. Wow. Now this review is unintelligible.
When the film ends, I think the film tries to suggest that the action sequences were representations of the inner battles we face in life. Or something like that. I was unmoved. But hey, I wasn't expecting a well-written film, and neither should anyone going to see it. It is visually interesting with an ambitious narrative structure. The music is great as well, with covers of familiar tunes and an old Björk favourite played up to three times. Original music would have been preferred.
So yeah, I'll probably never see this movie again.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Self-referential greeting message
I wanted to begin my blog with a greeting message but I hesitated. I thought I would give my readers a little more credit. I decided I would earn my reader's interest with some reviews before I flat-out talk to them about why I decided writing a movie review blog. I mean, otherwise, it's like "Who are you, and why are you telling me that you are writing a movie review blog when I don't even know who you are?" I respect potential readers enough to simply show them the product instead of announcing its arrival as if I earned their attention in the first place.
I hypothesize that I now have about 5 readers because I posted some reviews on this blog, and via Facebook, Tumblr and word-of-mouth, I received some positive feedback. So to you, the reader, I welcome you to what will hopefully be a consistently entertaining column on films about which I have something to say. In the age of the internet, amid a global culture in which anonymity drowns out new voices, I sincerely thank you for your time.
New reviews will not necessarily be of new films. I'm not a professional film critic, writing for a professional newspaper, so I feel no urge to be topical. I accept requests, and even demands, for particular films to be reviewed. But for the most part, films will appear to be selected at random.
I hypothesize that I now have about 5 readers because I posted some reviews on this blog, and via Facebook, Tumblr and word-of-mouth, I received some positive feedback. So to you, the reader, I welcome you to what will hopefully be a consistently entertaining column on films about which I have something to say. In the age of the internet, amid a global culture in which anonymity drowns out new voices, I sincerely thank you for your time.
New reviews will not necessarily be of new films. I'm not a professional film critic, writing for a professional newspaper, so I feel no urge to be topical. I accept requests, and even demands, for particular films to be reviewed. But for the most part, films will appear to be selected at random.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Battle Los Angeles
Battle Los Angeles is boring. This review is going to be boring because it is of Battle Los Angeles and Battle Los Angeles is boring.
A U.S. marine played by Aaron Eckhart is demoted by another marine in an office. His face is zoomed in on for no reason. The camera is shaking. This style of cinematography is a trend in contemporary filmmaking that is sometimes exciting but often annoying. In Battle Los Angeles, it is used throughout the entire film. It's annoying and boring.
A handful of characters are established in the first twenty minutes. Captions are provided, depicting the names of onscreen characters. There is no reason for this.
Characters are affable and obviously written for a young male demographic. There is actually a scene in which marines are loitering at night, and superfluous females and alcoholic beverages abound. One marine is a virgin. He is laughed at. I am suspicious that the film tries to make the point that anyone can join the military, even if you are a virgin. Is Battle Los Angeles military propaganda? This thought is more entertaining than the film.
Combat begins. The rest of the movie consists of shooting, exploding, stabbing and yelling. Mostly the first two. The threat is overwhelmingly powerful and difficult to attack. Realistically, humans would not be able to defend themselves. But we have to sit and watch some U.S. marines make inspirational speeches and slowly figure out effective ways to attack. Inspirational choral music plays with standard action scenes that were done better in District 9. Boring.
This film should have started with the aliens quickly destroying all humans. The rest of the film could show what the aliens do with Earth's resources, or whether they are successful in pursuit of their initial goals. That's something people could actually talk about. Except for its flaws, there is nothing to talk about in Battle Los Angeles. It happens, and then you leave. A waste of time.
A U.S. marine played by Aaron Eckhart is demoted by another marine in an office. His face is zoomed in on for no reason. The camera is shaking. This style of cinematography is a trend in contemporary filmmaking that is sometimes exciting but often annoying. In Battle Los Angeles, it is used throughout the entire film. It's annoying and boring.
A handful of characters are established in the first twenty minutes. Captions are provided, depicting the names of onscreen characters. There is no reason for this.
Characters are affable and obviously written for a young male demographic. There is actually a scene in which marines are loitering at night, and superfluous females and alcoholic beverages abound. One marine is a virgin. He is laughed at. I am suspicious that the film tries to make the point that anyone can join the military, even if you are a virgin. Is Battle Los Angeles military propaganda? This thought is more entertaining than the film.
Combat begins. The rest of the movie consists of shooting, exploding, stabbing and yelling. Mostly the first two. The threat is overwhelmingly powerful and difficult to attack. Realistically, humans would not be able to defend themselves. But we have to sit and watch some U.S. marines make inspirational speeches and slowly figure out effective ways to attack. Inspirational choral music plays with standard action scenes that were done better in District 9. Boring.
This film should have started with the aliens quickly destroying all humans. The rest of the film could show what the aliens do with Earth's resources, or whether they are successful in pursuit of their initial goals. That's something people could actually talk about. Except for its flaws, there is nothing to talk about in Battle Los Angeles. It happens, and then you leave. A waste of time.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
시 (Poetry)
When Mija was a little girl, she was told by a teacher that she would be a poet. Decades later, she decides to join a poetry class at her local community centre. She missed the deadline for enrolment, but she tries to join anyway. There is an immediacy. She tries to tell a doctor about a pain in her arm, and her struggle to remember words is his only concern. She may have Alzheimer's disease. Her faculties for poetry may not last much longer.
Mija is a good person. She is gentle, fragile and unthreatening. She works part-time as a maid for an old man. She bathes him and cleans his home. On one occasion, he tips her 10,000 won. This is approximately nine American dollars. She is grateful for his apparent generosity. She did not expect it.
She lives with her grandson. Living off part-time wages and government subsidies, she gives him everything he needs. He is ungrateful. He avoids her when he can and when he can't, he ignores her. He speaks to her disrespectfully; he does not make requests, he gives commands. But she loves him unconditionally. Her virtue is unchallenged.
Mija is passionate. Her daughter observes that she likes flowers and says odd things, that a poetry class is appropriate. Her poetry teacher describes the poet's perfect moment: a sharpened pencil wavering over a blank piece of paper. She speaks out in class: “I used to be good at sharpening pencils.” Another day, having found it difficult to write, she speaks out again: “When does poetic inspiration come?” The teacher answers as best as he can.
Assembled with the fathers of her grandson's close friends, Mija learns that her grandson is a rapist. A girl in his school, Agnes, recently committed suicide, and her diary indicates six students repeatedly raping her until her death. Mija's grandson is one of the students. Now she can write. She notes the colour of a nearby flower: Blood red. The men think she is clueless. But in fact, the bad news is her first clue.
Mija is faced with two objectives. Mija's poetry teacher administers a single assignment: Write one poem. This is her first objective. She has one month to do this. Meanwhile, so that her grandson and her grandson's friends can be free of punishment and that the school can secure its reputation, Mija is asked to come up with 5,000,000 won, one sixth of an amount deemed appropriate by the five fathers to compensate Agnes' mother. This is difficult for her not only because she does not have the money, but also because she did not explicitly agree that such a compensation is appropriate. Her opinion does not seem to matter. Compensating Agnes' mother becomes her second objective.
Mija is a good person. She is gentle, fragile and unthreatening. She works part-time as a maid for an old man. She bathes him and cleans his home. On one occasion, he tips her 10,000 won. This is approximately nine American dollars. She is grateful for his apparent generosity. She did not expect it.
She lives with her grandson. Living off part-time wages and government subsidies, she gives him everything he needs. He is ungrateful. He avoids her when he can and when he can't, he ignores her. He speaks to her disrespectfully; he does not make requests, he gives commands. But she loves him unconditionally. Her virtue is unchallenged.
Mija is passionate. Her daughter observes that she likes flowers and says odd things, that a poetry class is appropriate. Her poetry teacher describes the poet's perfect moment: a sharpened pencil wavering over a blank piece of paper. She speaks out in class: “I used to be good at sharpening pencils.” Another day, having found it difficult to write, she speaks out again: “When does poetic inspiration come?” The teacher answers as best as he can.
Assembled with the fathers of her grandson's close friends, Mija learns that her grandson is a rapist. A girl in his school, Agnes, recently committed suicide, and her diary indicates six students repeatedly raping her until her death. Mija's grandson is one of the students. Now she can write. She notes the colour of a nearby flower: Blood red. The men think she is clueless. But in fact, the bad news is her first clue.
Mija is faced with two objectives. Mija's poetry teacher administers a single assignment: Write one poem. This is her first objective. She has one month to do this. Meanwhile, so that her grandson and her grandson's friends can be free of punishment and that the school can secure its reputation, Mija is asked to come up with 5,000,000 won, one sixth of an amount deemed appropriate by the five fathers to compensate Agnes' mother. This is difficult for her not only because she does not have the money, but also because she did not explicitly agree that such a compensation is appropriate. Her opinion does not seem to matter. Compensating Agnes' mother becomes her second objective.
These two objectives, comprising two main story arcs, are beautifully woven into each other; for Mija engages in a series of actions, and we are challenged to decide which objective each action is a step toward. Each action seems to be a step toward one of the two, but there is an extent to which, it can be argued in every case, an action is a step toward both. She attends Agnes' funeral. She wants to pay respects to Agnes' family. Overwhelmed with pity and shame, she cannot stay. Perhaps now she has more to write about. She visits the bridge off of which Agnes jumped. On the shore of the river below, she takes out her notebook, opens it to an empty page. She seeks poetic inspiration, but Agnes is on her mind. What is the right thing to do? What is just? We see her actions, but her heart remains a mystery. The film is like poetry itself: beautiful and ambiguous.
There is no music in the film, except when characters play it themselves. This is a move in filmmaking that cannot be made without strong writing and directing. The sound effects and sound mixing are notably superb. The sounds of running water, rustling foliage and various insects dominate the soundtrack when Mija wanders through the Korean landscape. At the tail end of another Canadian winter, I was happy to experience such a warm climate.
The film is regrettably the only film by Lee Chang-dong I have seen. The film won the Best Screenplay award at the Cannes Festival, and it won the Best Director and Best Actress awards at the Asia Pacific Screen Awards. Perhaps, due to its severely limited release, the film did not qualify as a 2010 release and so was not within the scope of the Academy's Best Foreign Language Film award. The film is being shown now in selected theatres in the United States. It deserves attention.
This film evidences a great talent. This is Chang-dong's fifth film. I am four films behind. For each of his films, he is credited as both writer and director. I suspect that his other films are made with a similar style and an equal amount of craftsmanship. They appear to have had significant critical acclaim. He is a filmmaker worth catching up on and watching out for.
There is no music in the film, except when characters play it themselves. This is a move in filmmaking that cannot be made without strong writing and directing. The sound effects and sound mixing are notably superb. The sounds of running water, rustling foliage and various insects dominate the soundtrack when Mija wanders through the Korean landscape. At the tail end of another Canadian winter, I was happy to experience such a warm climate.
The film is regrettably the only film by Lee Chang-dong I have seen. The film won the Best Screenplay award at the Cannes Festival, and it won the Best Director and Best Actress awards at the Asia Pacific Screen Awards. Perhaps, due to its severely limited release, the film did not qualify as a 2010 release and so was not within the scope of the Academy's Best Foreign Language Film award. The film is being shown now in selected theatres in the United States. It deserves attention.
This film evidences a great talent. This is Chang-dong's fifth film. I am four films behind. For each of his films, he is credited as both writer and director. I suspect that his other films are made with a similar style and an equal amount of craftsmanship. They appear to have had significant critical acclaim. He is a filmmaker worth catching up on and watching out for.
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