A Hologram for the King

Written by: Dave Eggers












Before going on, I wanted to take a moment to appreciate the cover of this book.  It's intricate and ornate and, simply put, beautiful.  From the moment you see this book, before you open a page, the book itself demands your attention and respect and, well, awe.

Eggers is a master, and he has created in "A Hologram for the King" another novel which, if written by someone else would be a masterpiece, but for Eggers is merely par for the course.

Eggers brings a straight and powerful tone to this novel, which gives the book a gravity which could have easily been lost.  There are points in the novel which border on surreal and could easily corrupt the story's core, but which Eggers handles effortlessly in stride.

The setting of the story manages to simultaneously call on several points of reference: it's both ancient and modern. Empty, but full of mystery. The other side of the world, but achingly familiar.

"A Hologram for the King" is powerful, and hearkens back to an ancient Greek tragedy while also firmly planting itself as a novel for its own time.

Following

Written and Directed by: Christopher Nolan












There's not a whole lot that can be said about "Following" without ruining some of the details, so - like the film itself - I will try keep this short and sweet.

An unnamed writer (Theobald) begins following people to help him develop characters for his novel.  But he is caught by a man named Cobb (Haw) who introduces him to the world of burglary.  The writer soon finds himself consumed the the philosophy and thrill of the break-in.  But, as his second career expands, he begins to find himself caught up in machinations of more powerful criminals.

"Following" is Nolan's first film, but in it he experiments with some of the storytelling devices which would become cornerstones of his later films.  The one that stands out the most is revealing the story in a non-linear fashion - showing how certain parts end before showing how they begin.  This is the central trope of "Memento," but it's used with great effect here as well.  The changes in sequence are not as clear in "Following" though, so it's important to use random details (haircuts, clothes, bruises) to help determine which part of the story is being told.  This device demands the viewer's attention, or the story will seem choppy and incoherent.

The movie's final reveal - which I won't tell here - is expertly set up.  By ending the film with such a twist, Nolan practically begs the viewer to watch the film again right away to try to fit the puzzle pieces together.  The "twist-ending" can be a bit cliche when not handled correctly, but Nolan uses it like a pro in his first try.

"Following" isn't a perfect film, but it's surprising how great it is.  Nolan already has his filmmaker's toolbox filled in his rookie effort, and uses those tools to make a great movie.

The Soloist

Directed by: Joe Wright

Written by: Susannah Grant (screenplay); Steve Lopez (book)










This movie sets out to tell the true story of journalist Steven Lopez (Downey) and his attempt to help rebuild the life of Nathaniel Ayers (Foxx), a dispossessed man who once had the opportunity to be one of the great cellists.  In that goal, it succeeds.

To it's credit, the movie does not reduce itself to sappiness.  There is a tendency in telling stories like this to gloss over the ending, to reveal some major change.  The struggling journalist learns the value of friendship and the need to help the homeless.  The musical vagrant returns to greatness at his instrument.  Instead, the ending is much more realistic.  There is no transcendent moment.  The characters have indeed grown, but the change is not monumental.  I appreciate that the filmmakers decided not to fit a trite conclusion onto the film - that was not the point.  They stayed loyal to the story (as far as I know it), even if that meant the conclusion does not satisfy in the usual sense.

My biggest disappointment in the movie was that I struggled to truly care about the characters.  They failed to come alive, but rather felt exactly like people playing out a story that had already been written.  I learned everything I needed to know about them from the trailer.  This is not the greatest performance by either of the leads, though, to their credit, I appreciate that both worked outside their usual character style and tried for something different.

"The Soloist" felt like a movie that had a lot of potential, but didn't live up to it in the way that it could have.  But maybe that's the point - the movie itself is about people not able to live up to expectations.  I'm not suggesting that the filmmakers intentionally produced a movie that fell short of goals, but rather that it is fitting that it occurred - whether intentional or not.  They tried for something different - to reveal something true, even if in their quest for veracity they opted not to resolve the problems of every character.

The Sting

Directed by: George Roy Hill

Written by: David S. Ward










There was a time when, together or apart, Robert Redford and Paul Newman could carry any film into greatness.  "The Sting" stands as the prototypical example of what they were capable of, without seeming to have to try that hard.  This movie belongs in that special category of films which are simply entertaining and magical, and I'm glad I got to see it at a special classic film screening.

The plot can be boiled down to this: Two lowly, but charming con-men decide to pull a fast one on the high-powered mobster who killed their friend.

Most of the film's charm is carried by Redford and Newman, who radiate attractiveness and allure (though there is a lot of doubt as to how realistic they might be compared to real con-men - but I digress).  Both actors are at the top of their game and bring their characters to life without much effort.  There's a lot that can be said about these two, but I'd rather you just experience it for yourself - it's truly amazing.

Robert Shaw also deserves credit for bringing the villainous card-cheating mob boss Lonnegan to life.  He serves as the perfect foil for the heroes without over-playing the part.  It's impossible for me to imagine this movie without him, perhaps someone else in his place.  He is just nasty and mean enough to earn the viewer's disdain, but not so cruel or awful as to be off-putting.

There are enough twists and turns to keep the story moving forward, and enough moments where a con is revealed to make it worth watching.  There are even a few "cons" pulled on the audience, but I won't spoil those here.  The movie does drag a bit in the middle, as the anti-heroes slowly set up their foil for his comeuppance, but the nature of the set-up necessitates this somewhat lengthy dry period.  When the con is played out, though, it's totally worth the wait.

Of course, no review of "The Sting" would be official without mentioning the background music.  The ragtime piano music helps to really set the film in its time period (not necessarily the most realistic - but still).  In fact, once you've seen the film, it's basically impossible to think of the movie and not get the music stuck in your head again.

"The Sting" is a classic movie, with great performances, great music, and a great story.  It's great, all around.

Punch-Drunk Love

Written and Directed by: Paul Thomas Anderson












It's pretty clear that Adam Sandler's career has taken a long public nose-dive.  (Albeit, a dive into a pile of money - a la Scrooge McDuck.  Or so I imagine.)  But "Punch-Drunk Love" reveals what might have been if Sandler had shunned the easy money and challenged himself with different roles.

The character of Barry Egan is, by far, Sandler's most complex role, even though the character's volatile  background is not much of a stretch from some of his earlier characters.  Egan is basically on the razor's edge of sanity, reading to break at any given moment despite his attempts to control his temper.  This trait is exacerbated by his sisters who refuse to let him forget some of his previous violent outbursts, even as they try to set him up with a romantic entanglement.  He obsesses over small details, and is secretly trying to take advantage of a loophole in a frequent-flyer program.  All of which leads to a breaking point when, in a moment of weakness, he calls the wrong phone-companionship line.  (Billy Madison - eat your heart out!)

The question becomes whether Sandler himself always has the potential he shows in this film, or whether it's Paul Thomas Anderson's masterful direction which forces Sandler to transcend his usual abilities.

Let's face it - Anderson does a great job with everything he does.  He has a magic touch.  The story of "Punch-Drunk Love" is incredibly simple - boy falls in love, makes mistake, tries to earn his love back. These elements often spell trouble - sailing waters littered with cliche and kitsch often appealing mainly to lovelorn teenagers.  But Anderson doesn't let his film stoop to that level.  In fact, the early introduction of the phone-sex storyline makes it very clear that this movie is meant for a more mature audience.  He raises this style of film to an art.  (And how do you know it's art?  Well, it features an appearance by Philip Seymour Hoffman, for one.)

One of the standout elements of the film is the constant tension.  I found my jaw clenching at numerous points and needed to pace around the room.  This is intensified by the pounding score (apparently written, at least in part, by Anderson himself) which relentlessly increases the pulse of every scene.  Every awkward moment is magnified to a potentially life-changing event.

I hadn't seen this movie in several years (and that was long before I took my movie-watching somewhat seriously or even knew what a P.T. Anderson was), but I remembered enjoying it.  Revisiting the film, it was actually better than I remembered it.

It's not a lightweight film.  But it's well worth the heavy-lifting.

They Might Be Giants

Directed by: Anthony Harvey

Written by: James Goldman










"They Might Be Giants" belongs to a special genre of film, in that it is neither terribly good nor terribly bad nor terribly memorable, but is mostly entertaining while being viewed.

I stumbled upon it, mainly by name, floating around my streaming options.  As a fan of George C. Scott (generally speaking), I figured it may be worth a shot.

Justin Playfair (Scott) has lost his marbles and is absolutely convinced that he is the one and only Sherlock Holmes.  When his brother (Gilford) tries to get him committed, he runs across a doctor named Watson (Woodward), and from then on the game is afoot!  But is Playfair crazy?  Or has he actually stumbled across a more sinister conspiracy that only he and his band of misfits can unravel?

This movie doesn't have a lot of heft.  It's cute.  It's charming.  But for the life of me, it's hard to remember.  There was a message, I'm sure, but I'm not totally sure I grasped it.  Still, for the length of the movie, I was totally caught up in it.  I couldn't stop watching.

There are lots of ethereal and ephemeral movies like this - the kind you watch once and never see again even though you kind of enjoyed it, only crossing your mind briefly, vaguely, whenever one of the actors is mentioned.  I'd name them, but if I could remember the names then they wouldn't actually belong to this category.

I wouldn't advise anyone to see this movie, but I wouldn't protest if someone else wanted to put it on.  It carries with it the magic of the movie experience, but so do all movies.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Written by: J. K. Rowling












I'll save us all a lot of time and say, from the beginning, that this is the Harry Potter book I've been waiting for.  Over the first several books, I found the Potterverse to be entertaining and charming, but not particularly enduring.  The characters felt more like caricatures rather than people, and their adventures served little purpose beyond helping to open up the magical world.  But, with "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire," everything changes.

I'll try to keep the summary short: Somehow, Harry has been selected to participate in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, which puts his very life in danger.  On top of that, there are rumors of Lord Voldemort returning to power and his servants, the Death Eaters, have been starting to reveal themselves.  Could the two things be connected?  (Spoiler: They are.)

For the first time, I actually felt like Harry was in some real danger.  Harry was actually in harm's way and, without some well-timed luck, could have been killed.  This is a major development, as previously Harry's adventures had been mostly fun with little or no serious rick.  But not anymore.  Harry comes face-to-face with Voldemort, though their confrontation is cut short.

This is also the first book that felt like part of a series.  The first three books were mostly episodic, with recurring characters and settings, but not much else holding each story to the others.  In "...Goblet of Fire," the finale clearly sets up events to be continued in the rest of the series, while also developing the significance of elements from the earlier books.

I can see, how, how people become totally immersed in the Potterverse.  I struggled to find the will-power to start the next book immediately, and I'm keeping it close by for the first moment I can read it without revealing myself as a HP-newbie.

The Conspirator

Directed by: Robert Redford

Written by: James D. Solomon; James D. Solomon, Gregory Bernstein (story)










Most Americans know, at least vaguely, the story of the assassination of President Lincoln by John Wilkes Booth.  Fewer are familiar with the trial of the conspirators who help hatch the plot.

Frederick Aiken (McAvoy) has been tapped to defend Mary Surratt (Wright), who has been accused of harboring the conspirators in her boarding house.  But Aiken quickly finds out that, in the case of a military tribunal, justice may not be easy.  He is further upset when he finds out the entire trial itself may be an attempt to draw out a Surratt's son from hiding, even if it means that she might be executed.

From the standpoint of story, "The Conspirator" weaves an interesting and emotionally charged tale.  There are some interesting questions of ethnics and justice raised, mixed between plot twists (including a big one right near the end).  The actors are solid, even if it felt that they were limited by the script and story itself.

The biggest issue with "The Conspirator" is that it fails to do anything new or novel.  It tells its story in a generally straight and traditional way.  It makes its point clearly, but does not present any new or challenging ways of thinking about the issues.

For better or for worse, "The Conspirator" felt like what it was: a historical drama.  It's good, but could have done much more.

With Great Power: The Stan Lee Story

Directed by: Terry Dougas, Nikki Frakes, William Lawrence Hess

Written by: Nikki Frakes, William Lawrence Hess










Stan Lee is probably the most well-known name in the modern comic book world.  Name a Marvel comic, and odds are it has his fingerprints on it somewhere.  Yet, although he's lived in the public eye, much of his own personal history has been documented in mostly anecdotal discussions.  "With Great Power: The Stan Lee" attempts to set the story straight about this influential writer.

This documentary strikes an excellent balance between telling Stan Lee's personal story and tracing his creative history.

I wouldn't say that "With Great Power" is for hardcore fans only, but it would definitely help to have a passing knowledge of the Marvel universe.  There are a few points wherein Stan Lee spends a lot of time explaining the process of creating several of his famous characters, which can be tricky to follow if you're unfamiliar with those characters.

This isn't an example of great filmmaking, but it is a project with a lot of heart.  I think the directors did a great job of framing the life and work of one of America's under-appreciated creative minds.

On the Beach

Written by: Nevil Shute












What inspires someone to read a book about the end of the world?  Whatever it is, it catches me about once a year, and this time manifested itself in reading a discarded library copy of Nevil Shute's "On the Beach."  And, with all due respect to Cormac McCarthy's "The Road," I don't think I've ever read a book so harsh and bleak.

The protagonist, Dwight Towers, is one of the last surviving American naval officers, the US (along with most of the northern hemisphere) having been destroyed in an all-out nuclear war.  He and his crew take refuge in Australia - one of the last inhabitable places on earth - where they continue their service until the end of civilization as the earth's atmosphere is slowly overcome by radiation.

It's amazing how well Shute raises some pretty primal questions about humanity, given how simple his book may seem at the surface.  For example, what would you do if you knew you only had a month to live?  How would you spend your time?  How would you spend your money?  What would you do with yourself?

Shute reflects on some interesting aspects of human nature, and how they backfire when faced with the end of humanity.  For example, just after the nuclear war, everyone took as much gasoline as they could and hoarded it.  But, with less than a month to live, many realize that they saved more gas than they will ever be able to use.  The same goes for alcohol: a social club which has stockpiled rare vintages of wine for years, only to discover that many of the best will never be enjoyed.

"On the Beach" is a hard read, emotionally.  It raises, in an all-too-realistic way, questions of every individual's mortality and the limits of our lives.  Yet, unlike most novels, Shute's book offers no hope.  Instead, according to this book, we are all ultimately doomed.  We will never amount to much, and there will never be quite enough time to see all we want to see, do all we want to do, or to live the lives we've dreamed about.

For those who can't face their own inner-dreads, the book can also be read as a time-piece.  It is a distorted mirror for what might have been during the cold war - a reflection of the psyche of almost all of humanity when the world's most powerful nations were constantly moments away from pushing the button that would end civilization as we know it.

It will be hard to forget this book, though I would be lying (in a way) if I said I enjoyed it.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle

Written by: Shirley Jackson












This book, perhaps fittingly, had lurked around my life for a while before I finally had the drive to read it.  I'd come across an essay about it, and been intrigued even though I had lacked understanding of the  references.  A colleague referenced another Shirley Jackson work ("The Lottery" - perhaps her most famous).  Finally, for some strange reason, my wife picked up the book and read the whole thing in one night and spent the next month telling me I should read it.  I second her recommendation.

Jackson weaves together a beautiful, but dark and complex story, focusing mainly on the disintegrating Blackwood family.  At first, we find that the locals in their small town have ostracized the family after an unnamed event.  As the story unfolds, the truth becomes more murky and muddled until the arrival of a long-lost cousin catalyzes a major change and, finally, the truth is revealed.

What's amazing is how well-crafted this book is.  (And I know that's cliche, but I can't think of a better way of saying it.)  Upon reflection, most of the plot is both crucial and negligible.  What is most memorable, though, is the cast of characters.  Mary Katherine Blackwood is completely unforgettable (and to say much more would rob you of the joy of meeting her yourself).  Her sister Constance should rank in the pantheon of American mythology (with the Jay Gatsby and Quentin Compson types).  And, when all is revealed, the tragedy of Uncle Julian's madness is made complete.

The word "gothic" is thrown around a lot to describe books which don't fit into the polite category of fiction, but this is not the case with "We Have Always Lived in the Castle."  Jackson's novel should be hailed as the archetype of gothic American writing.  But, beyond that, it should be honored as an American classic.

Catching Hell

Directed by: Alex Gibney









On October 14, 2003, Cubs fan Steve Bartman reached for a foul ball and, instead, caught the rage and vitriol of every other Cubs fan around the world.  "Catching Hell" attempts to unravel the events and outcomes of that infamous night.

The "Steve Bartman incident" is well documented around the internet, so I don't feel the need to rehash it all here.

"Catching Hell" covers much more than just the sequence of events that night, though.  Director Alex Gibney discusses multiple aspects of the Bartman incident, including how the media covered it and the way the security team at Wrigley Field tried to defuse the situation.  In a bit of meta-documentary, Gibney places the Bartman incident in historical context, comparing it to the Buckner play of 1986, to discuss how and why some people become "scapegoats."

I have to say that "Catching Hell" was a solid documentary, with enough explanation for those who are not familiar with what happened, while also introducing enough new information and reflection to make it interesting to those who remember exactly when it happened (like me).

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Written by: J. K. Rowling












The third book in the Harry Potter series was a bit of a fizzle.  It just didn't do much for me.

Essentially, it picks up exactly where the last book left off.  Harry and his friends become caught up in a mystery which threatens to kill Harry.  You see, it turns out that one of the conspirators in the death of Harry's parents has escaped from the wizard prison of Azkaban, and all evidence points to this man - Sirius Black - coming to Hogwarts to kill Harry.  Of course, nothing is quite as it seems, and Harry and his pals find out that Sirius is actually innocent and wants to help protect Harry.  Unfortunately, in the end, no one (except Dumbledore) believes Harry, and so Black goes into hiding where he can keep an eye on things.

This book felt very, very formulaic for the first several chapters.  It starts in nearly the exact same way as the previous two novels, with only minor variation.  This was painful, and I grew frustrated waiting to get to the meat of this book.

And even when the plot did begin to develop, I never really felt any dramatic tension.  Although the character of Sirius Black is mysterious, I never got the sense of menace that I think I was meant to feel. Rather, I knew it was only a matter of time before the truth was revealed about his motivations.  (I didn't quite see the whole "I was innocent" twist, but I knew that he probably wasn't the heartless beast he was made out to be.)  Overall, there just wasn't any sense of danger, and I never believed that Harry and his friends were in any life-threatening scenarios.

Aside from some random introductions - Black, Hogsmeade - this book felt mainly like a bridge between what had already been established and something bigger to come in the later books.

Silly Little Game

Directed by: Adam Kurland, Lucas Jansen









With millions of people now playing the game, "Silly Little Game" provides the history of fantasy baseball.

There's not a whole lot else that can be said.  It's an entertaining documentary, especially for those who play in fantasy leagues.

I found it fascinating how small it started - one group of friends who thought they knew more about baseball than each other - and how the first year was essentially a guessing game, as no real strategies had been developed.

It was also interesting how the people who originally developed and played the game eventually lost control of the rights to fantasy baseball, and so are no longer making money on the game they created.

"Silly Little Game" is short enough to watch in a free hour, and is entertaining if not informative.

The Thin Red Line

Directed by: Terrence Malick

Written by: James Jones (novel); Terrence Malick (screenplay)










It's not often that the words "beautiful" and "war film" go together.  But, if ever they were, it would be in regards to "The Thin Red Line."  Malick brings his unique visual style and vision to a genre which is rarely ground-breaking and is more often stale.

Although the movie loosely follows the American invasion of a pacific island during World War II, it's hard to point to any central plot beyond the general invasion.  There are recurring themes and inter-personal conflicts, but characters come and go in an almost arbitrary fashion.

Woody Harrelson's performance is absolutely fantastic and is worth noting here.  His part is small, but powerful.  It's also emblematic of the film as a whole - small and excellent parts which come together in a fantastic whole.

"The Thin Red Line" is not your typical war movie.  But Malick is not your typical director.

There's not a whole lot else I can say.  It's quite an experience to see a film like this, which stakes its own territory in the world of cinema and sets itself apart.

The Art of Fielding

Written by: Chad Harbach












I'm always wary when a book comes with a lot of praise (in case I haven't said that before), but I also can't help but be intrigued.  In this case, the praise wasn't totally unearned, though it was not quite as great as it could have been.  "The Art of Fielding" had clear strengths and weaknesses which fell across clearly identifiable lines.

The novel, as a whole, is centered around college baseball player Henry Skrimshander, who has an uncanny ability to field the ball (thus giving relevance to the title).  Although Skrimshander is the central character, he only represents a fraction of the novel's plot.  The rest of the book examines the lives of other characters who are all connected through how they know Henry.  And that's where the novel falls apart.

The portions about Skrimshander are the most fascinating in the book, and could have (probably) stood on their own as a smaller novel.  He is, by far, the most interesting character in the book, and I spent a lot of the time away from him wondering when he was going to reappear.  ("When are they gonna get to the fireworks factory?")  Unfortunately, there are so many other major characters that there are massive swaths of text in which Henry is totally absent.

Harbach's prose is especially successful when describing the baseball games, and for this I applaud him.  There are very few books about baseball which accurately describe the game.  Harbach manages to infuse those scenes with the grace and elegance that baseball deserves, without dropping any of the intensity of the game's competition.

There's an old piece of writing advice: "Write what you know."  It felt like, at times, Harbach decided that he really knew about "the small-college experience" and just ran with that concept.  But this strategy can be problematic because at points the novel seemed to be a one-trick pony.

"The Art of Fielding" was pretty good, though it wasn't great.  That's what I'll end with.

Rocky

Directed by: John G. Avildsen

Written by: Sylvester Stallone










I am a total sucker for this movie.  There, I've said it.  I love it, and it's one of my favorite movies.

Frankly, I don't feel that it's given enough credit.  Rather, it's often passed off as insincere or kitschy.  In fact, it's the opposite.

Sure, the ending is a bit corny in retrospect, but it's also completely unexpected (especially the first time you see it).  The film does a masterful job of bait-and-switch.  The climax of the film is Rocky's big fight against Apollo Creed (Weathers), but in the end the fight doesn't matter.  In fact, the result of the big match is revealed and pass-over so quickly as to be irrelevant.  That's because, amazingly, the last moment reveals that the movie wasn't about boxing at all (at least, not in the way most sports movies are designed).  Rather, boxing is a metaphor for the different parts of the characters' lives.  Sure, most sports movies use the sport as a metaphor, but it's hard to find one which reveals that metaphor so surprisingly.  ("Field of Dreams" might have used it just as effectively, but it's not a surprise the way it is in "Rocky."  "On the Waterfront" uses boxing as a metaphor at a key point, but the film itself is void of any actual boxing matches.)

I'd also like to ask this question: How many other movies capture low-class life so well?  There's no glitz or glamor to Rocky's life until the final fight.  Rather, he's a loser for most of the movie, and so are his friends.  Even his girlfriend Adrian (Shire) is crippled by her shyness and just a bit off-kilter.  Rocky doesn't live in a world where aspirations are big and dreams are bigger.  It's a world where people struggle to get along, and are easily sidetracked.

Rocky's scene where he tries to save a young teenage girl from developing a bad reputation shows us how complex things are in this world.  On the one hand, he's trying to offer her advice on how to better herself.  This advice is ultimately rejected, and Rocky's sincerity is twisted and misread.  But, at the same time Rocky is trying to tell this girl to live a better life, he himself is already a part of what he is trying to warn her about.  Although his dreams are tied to professional boxing, he actually makes a living acting as "muscle" for the local mafia.  Everything is a bit muddled and unclear.  Rocky prefers to keep things black and white, unaware that he lives in a world of gray.

I think "sincerity" is the key word in appreciating "Rocky."  You have to watch it in a sincere manner, putting aside any cynicism.  The actors are all sincere and straight in their performances.  (Yes, even Carl Weather's over-the-top job as Apollo Creed is just as honest as it is over-the-top.)  The characters in the film are sincere in their hopes and dreams and unfortunate realities.  Ultimately, the message of the film is sincere in what it tries to show us about ourselves.

The Dark Knight Rises

Directed by: Christopher Nolan

Written by: Jonathan Nolan, Christopher Nolan (screenplay); Christopher Nolan, David S. Goyer (story)









There's been plenty already said about this movie all over the internet, and there's really not a whole lot I can add to it in any meaningful way.  That being said, I'll limit my comments here to my own impressions and leave the larger debate for others.

I'm happy that this film pretty clearly ends the Bruce Wayne arc of Christopher Nolan's version of Batman.  Obviously (if you've seen it), there's plenty of wiggle room for more Batman films in the future, but this film ends much of what began in "Batman Begins."  The three films created their own cohesive unit, apart from anything that came before (and potentially anything else the studio tries to tag on).  There were also enough references, both major (the League of Shadows) and minor (Cillian Murphey's brief appearance in each movie) that the movies felt like they belonged together rather than forced together.

I look forward to seeing all three movies - "Batman Begins," "The Dark Knight," and "The Dark Knight Rises" - together to see how Batman evolves from the beginning of the trilogy to the end.  The different films show how he progresses so that, even though he's different at the beginning than at the end, it doesn't feel inconsistent or arbitrary.  Rather, the events in the films have forced him to evolve.

I was pleasantly surprised by Anne Hathaway's performance.  When her part was announced, I had serious doubts.  Instead, her role was one of the most rich and complex characters in the entire series, and she pulled it off in a subtle but convincing way.  I also enjoyed the way that the whole "Hey!  It's Catwoman!" thing wasn't rubbed in the audiences face.  In fact, it was the opposite.  I don't recall the name Catwoman ever being mentioned, and her costume was sleek without being obnoxious.  She was definitely one of the highlights of the film.

"The Dark Knight Rises" was not a perfect film.  It was long, and - worse - felt long.  There were a few plot twists which theoretically added to the drama, but really only managed to complicate things and make them unnecessarily longer.  (For example: The threat of a nuclear explosion in an urban area has enough drama in and of itself.  Why did they need to add the element of "there are three identical trucks and we don't know which truck the bomb is on" except to add a couple of extra scenes?)

Last, but not least: I heard Tom Hardy just fine.  I'm not sure what everyone else was complaining about.

The War Room

Directed by: Chris Hegedus, D. A. Pennebaker












It takes guts to make a documentary with no narration or commentary, but that's what Hegedus and Pennebaker do in "The War Room."  They capture, with as much fly-on-the-wall credibility as they can, the life of two key figures in a presidential campaign, from the early days of the primaries through the November election.

Without trying to sound arrogant, I have to say that this movie isn't for lightweights.  For political junkies like me, though, it's a great film.

It's amazing to see the strategic mind of James Carville (who has had a small role in several movies, including "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford") working in real-time, as he throws out comments and develops ideas to give his candidate (Clinton) the best shot at winning.

Meanwhile, the communications director George Stephanopoulos is doing his best to spin and re-spin everything that gets in the way of the campaign.

There's one scene in which they need to edit a second out of a television spot, and Carville and Stephanopoulos argue about how exactly to change the wording and imagery so that it fits in the alloted time.  On the one hand, it's hard to imagine that minutia being important over the long run of a campaign.  At the same time, it becomes evident that their attention to that type of minutia gave them the ultimate advantage in the election.

There are a lot of political and historical references thrown out with no context or explanation, but which are central to understanding what is going on.  There are references to Clinton's marital indiscretions and the "Whitewater Scandal" which almost de-railed his campaign, but none of these matters are delved into or explained.  Rather, they're just there.  At one point near the end, Stephanopolous is reading states and numbers off of sheets that are being faxed in (no e-mail for the Clinton campaign?), and we are led to conclude that these are the real-time results of the presidential election.

This is a fascinating movie if you're interested in the modern American political machine.  It requires some mental gymnastics to follow exactly what is going on and what people are talking about.  If you want to see a more entertaining cover of basically the same events, you may wish to check out Mike Nichols's "Primary Colors."  But if fast-paced hardcore documentaries are your thing, then "The War Room" is one of the best of the best.

Superman: The Movie

Directed by:  Richard Donner

Written by: Mario Puzo (story and screenplay); David Newman, Leslie Newman, Robert Benton (screenplay)

Superman created by: Jerry Siegel, Joe Shuster







Who doesn't love a good superhero movie?  And what better superhero to put in a film than the ultimate American comic-culture symbol of "Superman?"  Let's face it: Superman rocks, and Richard Donner's film, though imperfect, ushered in a new era for superheroes.

I hadn't seen "Superman" since I was a kid, but I've been going through a comic book kick lately, and when I saw the Blu-Ray for sale, I grabbed it.

A bit of background: After about a ten year hiatus, I'm starting to read comic books again.  Growing up, I was never a huge Superman fan.  It was hard to get behind a hero who could do anything, save anyone, and never made a mistake.  Superman never felt like he was accessible.  I much preferred some of the more imperfect heroes, whose lives and adventures were a little more relatable (though never quite realistic).  Getting back into comics now, I've been surprised that I'm able to appreciate Superman much more.  Though he's still "perfect," I'm better able to understand his character's complexity, and how he struggles to navigate the gray areas in a world where things are never as black-and-white as he'd want.

All that to say: I was jazzed to re-watch "Superman" and see what I had missed.

I was surprised at how much of the movie is devoted to Superman's back-story, both his pre-Earth history as the last son of Krypton and his childhood as the adopted child of the Kent family.  It's a significant chunk of the movie before he begins to fly, and even longer before he sheds his Clark Kent (Reeve) shell and reveals himself to Metropolis.  His past is laid out in very particular detail, lest anything get past the audience.

These details, though well-intentioned, are what hold the movie up at several points.  It's a long time before we meet Superman's chief antagonist Lex Luthor (Hackman), and even longer before Luthor's plans begin to unfold.  A lot of background is given to establish the character of Lois Lane (Kidder), and her brashness is hammered home several times more than necessary.

But it's all worth it when Superman finally saves the day for the first of many times.  I mean, come on, he flies through the air!  Has X-ray vision!  Ice cold breath!

(And, just an FYI, there are some big spoilers ahead, though I'm betting you could have figured out the ending on your own.)  Luthor manages to put Superman in quite a spot, forcing Superman to choose between saving two coasts at once.  It seems impossible!  In fact, it is impossible, and - gasp - Lois Lane dies before Superman could get to her.  But, this is a Superman story, and Superman always overcomes evil, and so, despite the voice-over warnings of his father (Brando), he manages to turn back time and re-write history just enough so that he can save Lois.

And therein lies why Superman is both amazing, and hard to take.  How can you not love a superhero who, in order to save one person, would change the rotation of the entire planet?  Yet, at the same time, how can you feel any tension or drama when you know that Superman, if he wants, can just reverse time?

There's a lot of religious (specifically Christian) symbolism thrown into this movie as well.  None of it is subtle, and some of it is so blatant as to be obnoxious, such as Brando's narration when Superman discovers his family history.

In any case, "Superman" does a good job of bringing the Superman mythology to the film medium.  Just be prepared.  Superman wins.  Superman always wins.  That's what makes him Superman.

And that's why this movie is pretty darned good.

Gods Without Men

Written by: Hari Kunzru












The book begins with a unique myth about Coyote the trickster, and takes off from there.  The book jumps around between several characters and time periods, all of which revolve around mysterious events surrounding a strange arrangement of rocks in the Mojave desert.

The central story follows of Jaz, a computer engineer wrapped up developing a program which can compile random bits of unrelated information to predict future economic trends.  When Jaz begins to worry about the implications of this model, he takes his wife and son out to California where, in the middle of the day, his son mysteriously disappears near a strange formation of rocks.  A long time later, the boy is found, but Jaz struggles to bond with the boy and wonders what exactly happened out in the desert.

Interspersed between chapters are two other major sub-stories.  The first tells of a researcher in the 1920s who loses the love of his life to another man.  In an act of revenge, he frames the man as a kidnapper and rounds up a posse to track him down.  A shootout occurs and the man is killed at the same odd rock formation.  The other major sub-story describes the rise and fall of a cult whose leaders claim to be able to communicate with aliens life forms of a higher civilization.  Where does this cult base their operations?  At the finger-like outcropping of rocks which has been featured in all the other stories.

There are a few other characters and sections which add to the overall mystique of the book.

As a novel with a jumping structure, it does all right.  It's not as good as "Cloud Atlas," but it does hold its own.  The comparison between "Gods Without Men" and "Cloud Atlas" is easy to make.  They both track vaguely interrelated stories over multiple time periods, showing how certain themes and human behaviors repeat themselves.  The problem with "Gods Without Men" is that the characters - with the exception of the cuckolded man - fall very flat, and without them there is no reason for the reader to consider the larger implications of the book.  By the end of the novel, the twists become predictable and cliche.

Still, it is neat to read a modern day "trickster" story, even if it's not a perfect novel.

The Killing of a Chinese Bookie

Written and Directed by: John Cassavetes












I'll have to be honest: I didn't know what I was getting into when I decided to try watching my first Cassavetes film.  I'd heard his name thrown around as some great art film director, but had never quite felt like I was ready to access his work.  Years went by, until finally I decided to give it a shot, and "The Killing of a Chinese Bookie" was recommended as a good jumping in point.

My first reaction was that I didn't like it.  It was slow.  The plot is painfully leisurely, given that the key element of the story is provided in the title.  Meanwhile, there are epic scenes of burlesque shows and the main character (Cosmo Vitelli, played by Ben Gazzara) taking his girls out for a night on the town, which don't seem to add much to the story, and rather feel like they are padding.  All in all, my first impression was negative.  I just didn't see what all the fuss was about.

Yet, for some reason, I wasn't able to merely dismiss it and move on.  It kept nagging at my mind.  I had the strange feeling that I'd missed something important, and when I get that feeling it usually turns out to be true.  I threw the DVD back into the machine and decided to check out the special features.  (For the record, I was watching the 1978 John Cassavetes edit of the film, which is available via the Criterion Collection.)

The biggest key that I had missed was the "American Dream" theme that Cassavetes was trying to convey (though how I missed what is the most common theme is beyond me).  With that context provided, I gained a new appreciation for the film.  The scenes that once felt like padding suddenly revealed exactly what Vitelli's version of the "American Dream" was, and the rest of the film his his desperate attempt to keep it all.  I was also impressed with some of the stylistic elements of making the film that Cassavetes employed, which included a generous crowd of amateur actors with a handful of professionals to raise the bar.

So, the question becomes: Do you need all this information to appreciate the film (be it this film, or any film)?  (Watch out now, or I might drop the "death of the author" bomb.)  I have to admit that my opinion of the film changed significantly with a little bit of research.  But should that research have been necessary?  I missed the "American Dream" point, but was that my fault, or the director's?  I'm willing to go half way on it - I probably didn't give it enough thought, but the director could have made it a bit more accessible.

I will give "The Killing of a Chinese Bookie" this much credit: it made me think.  This is a feature that most movies - the once which aim merely to entertain (not that there's anything wrong with that - don't achieve.  The film made me want to find out more.  And the more enlightened I became about the movie, the better I felt the movie was.  This may not always be the case - sometimes the background material doesn't change my impression.  But, in this case, Cassavetes hooked me.  I'll be checking out more.

Under the Dome

Written by: Stephen King












"Under the Dome" is one of Stephen Kings longest books, and it manages to showcase both his biggest strengths and clear weaknesses, often simultaneously.

To start with the positive: "Under the Dome" is ambitious.  In it, King sets out to document the decay and downfall of society when faced with the unearthly challenge of being stuck under an impenetrable dome.  And he absolutely succeeds.  Yet, at the same time, this "documentation" is often too meticulous, providing more detail than anyone really needs or cares about.

"Under the Dome" has some of King's most fleshed-out characters in any of his novels.  They feel almost real.  (OK, maybe Big Jim is a bit over-the-top at points - but what car dealer isn't?)  But too much attention is given to characters whose purpose is minimal and have no real affect on the story.  At one point, we meet a character, and over the course of five pages we learn all about their family and personal history.  A chapter or two later, that character is killed off.  It's almost as if King never learned the difference between major and minor characters, and so everybody gets the "major character" treatment, regardless of their significance.

I'm not sure how else to characterize "Under the Dome" except that it represents Stephen King at both his best and his worst.  If you're the type of person who likes Stephen King, you'll likely find what you like in droves.  If you're the type of person who looks down on King's work, you'll find plenty to gripe about too.  For me: I enjoyed it.  I just wish it had been about 400 pages shorter.

Hot Tub Time Machine

Directed by: Steve Pink

Written by: Josh Heald, Sean Anders, John Morris










"Hot Tub Time Machine" - the title pretty much reveals the central plot point of the film, while also giving away the basic absurdity of the premise.  If you're not intrigued by the title, this movie probably isn't for you.  (And even if you are interested by the title, there's no guarantee you'll like the actual result.)

Essentially, the movie tells the story of four men who accidentally turn their hot tub into a time machine.  They're transported back to 1986 - specifically, to a night that served as a major turning point in all their lives.  As they try to figure out how to return themselves back to their normal time period, they also realize that they have an opportunity to change the course of their lives.

"Hot Tub Time Machine" could have gone in one of two directions: either a straight comedy, or an an absurdist comedy (as the title would suggest).  Unfortunately, it tried to be both at the same time, leading to an unevenness which scuttled the film.  Some of the actors (such as Cusack) played their characters like just about any other comedy, but others (such as Robinson) played their characters with a wink-and-nod style.  One or the other would have been fine, but with both it felt like the film couldn't decide which direction to take.

The 1980s element of the film added a bit of fun, and played off pretty well.  (Those who made "Take Me Home Tonight" should have taken notes.)  It may have only been important to the plot at a few points, but it was consistently used in the background to add to the atmosphere.

A special note should be made about Crispin Glover's performance as Phil, the ornery one-armed bell boy.  It was a small role, but it was played to perfection.  His presence elevated every scene he was in, and at some points I kept watching just in the hope that his character would pop up again (and I was not disappointed).

Overall, "Hot Tub Time Machine" wasn't great, but there were enough funny elements to make it worth seeing if you ever need to waste a couple of hours.

Jaws

Directed by: Steven Spielberg

Written by: Peter Benchley, Carl Gottlieb










I'll start by being as clear as possible: I love "Jaws."  It's the kind of movie that, no matter what else is going on, I will go out of my way to see.  I've seen it on the big screen three or four times (thanks to midnight movies and my local theater's "Classic Film Wednesday" series).  It was one of the first DVDs I purchased.  Heck, I'll even watch it edited on TV - commercials and all.  This fanaticism may seem a bit much, but Spielberg's final product is so great that I feel it's totally warranted.

Let's start with the cast.

--Roy Scheider plays police chief Brody, who has moved to Amity to get away from the dangers of being a police officer in a big city.  A bit ironically, he's taken a job as police chief on an island despite the fact that he's afraid of water - an irony that comes into play when the shark attacks begin.  What makes Scheider's performance so amazing is the way he managed to flesh out the character with little subtleties.  There are hints that something traumatic happened to him wherever he worked before, but he wears that trauma in his eyes and the way he responds to situations.

--Richard Dreyfuss is fantastic as Hooper, a young marine biologist who arrives to investigate the shark attacks and finds out exactly what kind of monster they are up against.  He manages to keep one foot in the world of "preppie" and another in the realm of "rugged individual."

--Robert Shaw brings mad shark hunter Quint to life, a character cut from the broken mold of Captain Ahab.  The "Indianapolis" speech he gives just before the final scenes is unforgettable.  Shaw's performance in this film is, without a doubt, one of the greatest acting performances in the history of cinema.

--The supporting cast - Lorraine Gary, Murray Hamilton, etc. - help bring Amity Island to life and provide verisimilitude to what could have easily deteriorated into an absurdity of horror.

I said I'd start with the cast, but I also think I'll end with the cast.  I could go on and on about "Jaws" and what makes it great, but ultimately you should experience it for yourself.  You need to hear for yourself John Williams's amazing score, which, without any visuals, could evoke the presence of the beast.  You need to see for yourself what happens to the Orca fishing boat.  None of it can be conveyed, it must be experienced.

I'll wrap it up simply: "Jaws" is one of the greatest films ever.  There is very little wrong with this movie, and a whole lot that is done right.  I'd even argue that it's nearly perfect.

The Natural

Directed by: Barry Levinson

Written by: Roger Towne, Phil Dusenberry (screenplay); Bernard Malamud (novel)









Some movies have good plots.  Some movies have quotable lines.  And some movies have scenes which transcend film and become iconic.  The climactic sequence of "The Natural" has become one of those scenes.

It's too bad that the rest of the film doesn't live up to that final moment.  "The Natural" isn't bad, but it's not as great as the final scene that punctuates it.

The fact is, most of the movie is slow and dry.  Even some of the more exciting moments - Bump Bailey crashing through the wall - don't feel organic or alive.  Once each step of the plot unfolds, there is only one possible direction to the next step, so there's a sense of inevitability rather than surprise.  Meanwhile, none of the characters are terribly vibrant despite what is a very strong cast, so there is really nothing left to keep the story floating.

As if that were not enough, the film is very heavy handed.  There are two very clear sides: good and evil.  The good side is perfect and pure.  The evil side is totally rotten and twisted.  There is no middle, and it is almost always obvious as to who is on which side.  All of this leads to some very obnoxious symbolism.

Still, all of this absolutely worth sitting through to get to that final scene.  That final sequence - with Roy Hobbs stepping to the plate with so much on the line, his side bleeding (there's that symbolism again) - makes the entire film an instant classic.

That iconic scene expressed the spirit imagination of every little boy who ever dreamed of playing professional baseball.  It's almost embedded in the American subconscious at this point - the swing, the crack, the lights shattering, the silhouette of Hobbs rounding the bases as he's showered in sparks.  The climax evokes the magic that makes movies worth seeing.

Moonrise Kingdom

Directed by: Wes Anderson

Written by: Wes Anderson, Roman Coppola









I've been a huge fan of Wes Anderson for years (though, considering I've never covered a film of his here, you probably wouldn't know it).  I find his work to be complex, intelligent, and visually stunning. His films can be a bit abrasive if you don't know what you're getting in to, but require an open mind to understand what he's trying to convey.

"Moonrise Kingdom" tells the story of of Suzy (Hayward) and Sam (Gilman) - two young teenagers who decide to join their miseries together and run away into the wilderness.  Being stuck on an island, the children are easily tracked down by the local police force (Willis) and Suzy's parents (Murray, McDormand), but with a little help from some friends Suzy and Sam decide to try one more daring escape.

There's so much to say about this film, I don't know where to start.

I'm amazed at how Wes Anderson was able to pull fantastic performances out of each of his actors.  Even Bruce Willis, who has been phoning it in lately ("Cop Out," anybody?), is stellar as the sweet-but-not-smart police captain.  Some of the supporting performances, such as Jason Schwartzman, Edward Norton, and Harvey Keitel, were great and could have stolen the show if the stars hadn't been perfect.  Hayward and Gilman, with no previous experience in film, give the performances of a lifetime as the young couple at the heart of the story.

There is so much else I could talk about, but I'll cut it as short as I can: Wes Anderson knows how to make good movies.  He understands how to create a fictional world which effectively mirrors reality, both in content (Suzy's science fiction books) and emotion (the love story).  He uses all the tools of the filmmaking medium - set design, camera movement, coloring, musical cues - to enhance his film both as story and as art.  I could point to almost any scene in the film as an example of how much depth the movie has.

I could go on and on, but I'd rather just encourage you to go see "Moonrise Kingdom" and enjoy it for yourself.

Rounders

Directed by: John Dahl

Written by: David Levein, Brian Koppelman










There was a point - namely, the late 1990s - when Matt Damon could basically do whatever he wanted and still be king of the hill.  "Rounders" comes out of that time period.

Mike (Damon) has traded in his poker chips for a girlfriend (Mol) and law school.  But when his best friend Worm (Norton) gets out of prison, the allure of the high stakes table draws him back in to the game.  But things go suddenly wrong, and the stakes become even higher, until he has to lay it all on the line and go all-in against notorious underground poker champ Teddy KGB (Malkovich).

(If anyone can fit in any more cliches into that summary, I'll be happy to add it in!)

There's not a whole lot wrong with this movie.  I'm not saying it's great, but it definitely wears its flaws well and plays to its strengths.  And its strengths are in its principle actors - Matt Damon and Edward Norton.  Damon gives his standard performance as the lovable sinner-with-the-heart-of-gold.  Norton shines as the aptly named Worm; he exudes his character's sliminess.  Even Malkovich does a fantastic job.  (The less we say about Gretchen Mol in this film, the better.  Her part was so small that it was almost negligible.  I'm not quite sure how she ended up on the poster.)

The movie had a few pacing issues, mostly occurring when the story turned back to Damon's personal life.  Those scenes just didn't have quite the tension or drama of the poker story line, nor did they really add to Damon's character in any meaningful way.  Also, the final poker game was a bit anti-climactic.  If you don't know how that game is going to turn out, you really haven't been watching the movie at all.

"Rounders" is entertaining, and a bit of a time piece.  It shows Matt Damon before he became a caricature of himself, Edward Norton at the top of his game, and poker when it was still a bit of underground novelty outside the Vegas city line.

Big Miracle

Directed by: Ken Kwapis

Written by: Jack Amiel, Michael Begler (screenplay); Thomas Rose (book)










I usually don't buy in to heartwarming, feel-good, family movies.  But this one far exceeded my expectations.

The year is 1988, and when a family of gray whales gets trapped in an icy bay, it's up to a local news reporter (Krasinski) and his nature loving ex-girlfriend (Barrymore) to try to save them.  With the help of the local whaling community, an oil executive (Danson) desperate for good press, and a visit from a Russian ice-breaker, they put together a desperate plan to save the whales from certain death and set them free to migrate to warmer waters.

This movie is a total cornball.  But I can't seem to find a reason to hate it, the way I feel like I should.  What saves this movie is how absolutely genuine it feels, from top to bottom.  Everybody involved seemed to be trying to make a good, wholesome movie.  And they did.  Had there been a single moment of self-reflection, or a single wink from any of the actors, the charade would have been over.  Instead, it seems they managed to produce exactly the type of movie they wanted to make, no more and no less.

The word "wholesome" keeps coming to mind.  I'm not going to argue that it's Oscar worthy (because it's not).  But it's a decent movie. and a half-step above a lot of other junk out there.

(Technical note: I labeled this movie as "streaming," but I actually viewed it using On Demand.)

The Orchard Keeper

Written by: Cormac McCarthy












If only most novels were as good as Cormac McCarthy's first novel.

Set during prohibition, "The Orchard Keeper" weaves together the lives of three characters, connected first by a circumstance of which none of them are aware and later by their mutual contempt for the law.

Like a pitcher warming up before a baseball game, McCarthy's first novel is not quite up to his usual standards, but you can still see hints of what is to come later.  The voice of the prose is not quite fine-tuned yet, but is obviously distinct.  This is not a criticism, but merely an observation.

As a writer, McCarthy mastered early the ability to let the characters and their circumstances carry their own gravity.  He assumes that his reader is intelligent and can make important connections without those connections being explicitly outlined or discussed.  For example: whose body is Uncle Ather hiding?  It's obvious, so it is never outright declared.  Few writers would be so bold as to leave such an important detail unnamed, but it seems natural - if not necessary - for McCarthy to do so.

I'm not sure whether or not this would be a good place to start for newcomers to McCarthy's work.  On the one hand, it's a solid general sampling of what his work is usually like.  On the other hand, it's not one of his best pieces. (Although, on a side note, I feel like comparing his books to one another is a futile venture akin to comparing Hall of Fame baseball players.  Is it fair to compare Joe DiMaggio to Hank Aaron?  No.  They were both amazing at what they did, and there's no value added by making the comparison.)

Harold and Maude - Revisited

I jump at any chance to see this movie.  It's definitely a contender on my "all time favorite" list (which doesn't actually exist).

This time, I caught a screening at my local theater's "Classic Film Wednesday" series.  There's definitely a special charm to seeing it on the silver screen.

Charm.  That's the key-word that came to mind after seeing it this time around.  "Harold and Maude" has a lot of charm.  And it's important, because that charm draws the audience in to what would ordinarily be an absurd situation.  An adolescent millionaire obsessed with faking his own death?  An old woman who refuses to recognize boundaries and property, but never seems to get into any major trouble?  Total nonsense that goes completely unquestioned because the characters have charmed us into believing in them.

The amount of music struck me this time.  Cat Steven's backing tracks have always been a key element in the film.  But this is the first time that I noticed that basically every transition - especially early in the film - is a musical transition.  It helps to set "Harold and Maude" apart most typical films.

Go see it.  Right now.

Prometheus

Directed by: Ridley Scott

Written by: Jon Spaihts, Damon Lindelof










The debate surrounding the different interpretations of "Prometheus" can be very simply summed up:

Thinker or stinker?

I've gone back and forth between both sides, and am now firmly in the "thinker" camp.

There are many reasons why.  One, put very well by a friend whose opinion on films I take very seriously, is that the reviews that hail "Prometheus" as great tend to be very well thought out essays while the reviews that dismiss it tend to be very poorly written.  Granted, this is not a very scientific analysis, but it does reveal something significant.  Those viewers with very analytical minds were able to find a lot to appreciate in the movie, while those who were looking for a cheap thrill on a big screen were sorely disappointed.

And I initially understood their disappointment.  I felt it myself.  Watching the trailers, I was hoping for a full-on "Alien" reboot with lots of chests exploding and people blowing things up.  When those things weren't there (actually they were, but more on that in a minute), I was left shaking and scratching my  head.  I had a bitter taste in my mouth, and spent some time wondering why I didn't see all the awesome things I was hoping to see.  Then it hit me: those things I wanted to see were there, but I hadn't seen them because they weren't quite what I had anticipated.

Take, for example, the chest explosions that the original "Alien" movies made famous.  There was really only one (maybe two?) of those in "Prometheus."  But, stepping back, the essence of the chest explosions - life bursting forth mysteriously from something else - is littered throughout "Prometheus."  It happens several times, (the alien squid baby being the most notable and memorable for reasons obvious to anyone who has seen the film).  Numerous times something or someone thought dead, lifeless, devoid is revealed to be much more than they appear.  It happens over and over again, but most of us weren't able to see it.

The biggest key to the movie is to stop thinking of it as part of the "Alien" series of films.  Its connection to that series is significant, but incredibly thin.  I've found the best way to think of it is as an episode of "Lost" (where writer Damon Lindelof made his fame).  In "Prometheus" as in "Lost" there are clues, references, fleeting moments which point to something larger.  Themes, images, symbols are repeated but never explained, leaving the viewer to ponder their meaning, if any (which, in turn, has led to some absolutely wonderful discussions).  The film's ambiguity - its unwillingness to even hint at answers to its biggest questions - is what makes it a movie worth discussing.

Does the movie have some flaws?  Sure.  Some big ones, too.  Characters do things that don't make any sense.  Contradictions, like the planet being totally habitable except for those massive storms which will rip humans to shreds, are plenty.

But ultimately, the fact that there are so many discussions - and heated ones - tells me that there's something to "Prometheus" which makes it more than B-level sci-fi fodder.  See it, ponder on it, reflect on it, and tell me how anyone can argue it isn't a "thinker."

The Rum Diary

Directed by: Bruce Robinson

Written by: Bruce Robinson (screenplay); Hunter S. Thompson (novel)










Before he became famous for his "gonzo" journalism, Hunter S. Thompson wanted to be the next F. Scott Fitzgerald.  His first and only novel "The Rum Dairy" has floated around for many years, waiting to be adapted into a film.  Thanks to the spearheading work of Johnny Depp, it finally got made (for better or for worse).

To simplify the plot: Paul Kemp (Depp) arrives in Puerto Rico as an aspiring journalist.  Massive amounts of alcohol are consumed, as well as some drugs, and general anarchy ensues.  (There's also a conflict involving Aaron Eckhart and his girlfriend, but it's basically just filler.)

In all honesty, "The Rum Diary" was not great material to begin with, and there wasn't a whole lot that could have been done to salvage this bomb.  I love Hunter S. Thompson, but fiction was not his strength.

Giovanni Ribisi's performance is one of the few highlights of the film.  I'd almost say that the film is worth seeing just for him.  But it's not.

Unfortunately, "The Rum Diary" is the type of movie in which all the best clips are thrown at you in the trailer.  There simply isn't a whole lot driving this film forward.  It meanders.  It wobbles.  The talent in the film - Depp, Eckhart, etc - don't shine in their usual way.

I hate to say it, but "The Rum Diary" simply fizzled.

Ulysses and Us

"Ulysses and Us: The Art of Everyday Life in Joyce's Masterpiece"

Written by: Declan Kiberd










This book arrived with some critical acclaim, which originally drew my attention.  The fact that it was written about James Joyce's "Ulysses" made it a must-have.  But from there, it sat on my shelf for over a year, until around Bloomsday I decided to give it a read.

The basic thesis is that academics have stolen "Ulysses" from the rest of the world, though Joyce originally intended it to be read by everyone.  (I agree and disagree with the thesis; more on that later.)  From there, a significant portion of the book is dedicated to a chapter-by-chapter breakdown of the book, focusing on the "everyday" elements of the novel.  It then wraps up with several chapters focusing on some major themes and motifs in the book, including the father-son relationship and Shakespeare.

I agree that not enough "everyday" people read "Ulysses."  I disagree with Kiberd's assertion that the book has essentially been hijacked by the academic world.  In fact, I would argue that, without the professors and grad students who devour the book like a formal steak-and-salmon dinner, "Ulysses" would have gone out of print a long time ago.  I will not dispute that Joyce included many banalities of everyday life, nor that Joyce originally intended the novel to be read by as many people as possible.  But "Ulysses" is not an easy read, even for a semi-intelligent person such as myself.  Try getting through a chapter like "Oxen of the Sun" or "Circe" without an annotated guide, and you'll be lost in the woods.

I would argue that Joyce merged the "everyday" with the "academic," though he may have tipped the scales in favor of the academic in a few cases (again, see "Oxen of the Sun," "Circe").  There are many details from common life included on every page.  He intended to make the novel as realistic as possible - including physical vulgarities which had never previously been hinted at in literature.  But Joyce also had a masterful control of the language, and he used his abilities to create a multi-layered novel which could be appreciated in several ways.  To claim that the academics have unfairly taken control of the book is to ignore the fact that Joyce (sometimes tongue-in-cheek) also included complex features for academics to savor.

There is also a bit of irony that, at points, Kiberd made arguments - such as the Bloom-as-Christ point - that would only be supported by an academic reading of the novel.  Instead, that serves to show that the everyday and the academic were joined by Joyce to create what is, indisputably, the best novel off all time.

X-Men: First Class - Revisited

Every once in a while, I'll watch a movie again.  (Shocking, I know.)  I've created a little "Revisited" label to use for occasions like this when, after a second viewing, I have something to add to my previous comments.

First up on my "Revisited" trek: "X-Men: First Class"

What struck me most about "X-Men: First Class" this time around was the way the whole film seemed to feel like a comic book.

Obviously (and I mentioned it last time), the montage sequence used several film panels, which  provided a comic book effect.

The staging and framing of several scenes mimicked the way it might have played out in a comic.  One scene that stands out for me that fits this motif is early in the film, when Xavier is flirting with the college girl at the bar.  I could almost see his lines in a dialogue bubble above his head.  When Raven interrupts him, her entrance into the scene was perfectly framed for a comic book panel.

Another key sequence which shot-for-shot felt more like a comic book panel was the climax, when Magneto kills Shaw.  The way the camera panned from left to right (like someone reading), following the coin through Shaw's skull while also cutting to shots of Xavier panning at the same speed - awesome!

The movie did have a lot of fluff.  Too many characters were developed, only to be killed off or pushed into the background.  The movie was paced out with enough action and plot development to keep it from feeling too long (which it was, to an extent).

Here's to hoping, like Christopher Nolan's "Batman Begins," that "X-Men: First Class" is merely the beginning of an epic series.

The Terminator

Directed by: James Cameron

Written by: James Cameron, Gale Anne Hurd; William Wisher Jr. (additional dialogue)









This is it: the film that launched the "Terminator" mini-empire.

Apparently, in the future, humans are at war with machines (and we're losing, I might add).  Our only hope is a man named John Connor, who is leading the resistance.  The machines decide to send a Terminator (Schwarzenegger) back in time to kill Connor's mother Sarah (Hamilton).  Connor sends his right-hand-man Kyle Reese (Biehn) back to ensure his mother's survival, with some interesting consequences.

Aside from the prominence of the 1980's clothing and hair styles, this movie has held up pretty darn well.

The Terminator - especially once stripped of his fleshy exterior - is still a terrifying image.  The pre-CGI stop motion animation of the skeletal robot is a little clunky at certain moments, but is mostly seamless as the jerky motion fits well with the movement of the machine.

The action is paced out well to keep the film moving without reducing the film to a mere chase film (which, at its essence, it is).  The beginning of the film strings the viewer along, tugging us toward the inevitable convergence of Reese, Connor, and the machine.  Even after that, there are enough breaks in the action, including some flashback / flashforward sequences, that the movie doesn't feel like one long pursuit.

For the most part, this is a pretty straight-forward sci-fi flick.  Perhaps the hardest part to wrap your head around is the time-travel element, which only occurs twice but plays a massive role in the long-term Terminator mythology.  Why did John Connor choose to send Kyle Reese back in time?  (Spoiler ahead.)  Because Kyle Reese is John Connor's father.  Think too much about this, and there's a major paradox waiting to explode, especially if you ascribe to the time-is-linear way of thinking.  How did Reese end up in 1984, if John Connor didn't send him back until the 2000's?  Unless Reese always existed as a time-traveller in 1984, meaning that John Connor's existence was inevitable and that time is not able to be altered.  Except, if time cannot be altered, then the Terminaor's attempt to, ahem, terminate Sarah Connor was futile?  Wait, what?  Yes, exactly.  It's the stuff like that which makes science fiction so fun.

This film is a little more brutal and violent than the typical sci-fi fare.  Perhaps not more violent, but definitely more brutal and visceral.  First time viewers be warned.

Come with me if you want to live...

The Miracle Worker

Directed by: Arthur Penn

Written by: William Gibson










We all, somewhere, somehow, have heard the story of Helen Keller and Annie Sullivan.  We know how Helen was deaf and blind, and that Annie unlocked the world so that Helen could communicate with her.  But, let's face it, how many of us have actually watched the movie?

It's actually a pretty good movie.  It manages to keep things exciting despite the fact that we all know how things are going to turn out.  The film adaptation managed to effectively incorporate much of the dramatic direction of the play without limiting itself to merely the original stage directions.

Bancroft and Duke give stunning performances as the protagonists Sullivan and Keller, respectively.  (OK, Bancroft's vaguely Irish accent was a bit of a distraction at times.)  Duke completely sold herself as blind and deaf, making it seem totally realistic, as though we were actually seeing Helen Keller.

There's not a whole lot to say about this film.  It's an inspiring story and worth seeing, even if you think you already know what happens.  This film breaks the mold by making the story about the journey, not the destination.

The Avengers

Directed by: Joss Whedon

Written by: Zak Penn, Joss Whedon










I have to admit, I was very late to the "Let's all go see 'The Avengers!'" bandwagon.  Like, a month and a half late.  I've had the problem lately that I get extremely excited about an upcoming blockbuster, but then lose almost all of the will to see it when the movie is finally showing in theaters.

The plot of "The Avengers," is pretty standard fare for a superhero flick.  Bad guy Loki (Hiddleston) decides to align himself with some nasty aliens to take over the earth.  Nick Fury (Jackson) decides to bring together a group of otherwise-unconnected heroes to fight off the evil onslaught.  The heroes must realize that their concern for the survival of humanity trumps their individual personality conflicts.  Action ensues; heroes win.  (And sorry for that last spoiler.)

I've got to say that this movie was 100% what I expected it to be.  Unfortunately, that was also it's biggest weakness.  "The Avengers" played out pretty much exactly how I imagined it would, with a few inconsequential variables.  There was never a moment where I thought, "Hey!  I didn't see that coming!"  The dialogue was sharp, as is expected from a Joss Whedon script, but the plot didn't deviate at all from the simple hero archetype.

Now, that being said, the movie was awesome.  The effects were phenomenal.  The actors really brought the characters to life.  The action scenes were pretty fantastic.  It hit every mark with flying colors.

A friend asked me what grade I'd give the movie.  I said I'd give it a solid A.  I'm just bummed there wasn't that extra-special moment to push it up to an A+.

Starship Troopers

Directed by: Paul Verhoeven

Written by: Edward Neumeier (screenplay); Robert A. Heinlein (novel)










Streaming this movie was a major flashback for me.  I had originally seen it back in the theaters and originally simply enjoyed the action and gore.  I loved the whole "newsflash" style of narration.  And I caught a glimpse of the politically charged subtext of the film, even if I didn't quite understand to make of it.

According to the story, humans are at war with an alien race known only as the bugs.  Little is known about the bugs except that they want to destroy humanity and humanity wants to wipe them out.  A group of friends join the military to contribute to humanity's survival.  The chaos of war ensues, with lots of shooting and bugs getting blasted.

This film has, undeniably, some of the best battle sequences in science-fiction film.  The bugs - especially the arachnids - are some of the most unique and unforgettable aliens I've ever seen.  The sequence in the fortress on "Planet P" is absolutely fantastic.

The acting is hammy.  Terribly hammy.  But there's not a moment of self-consciousness in the entire film, so the ham works.  If the movie had, even for a moment, acknowledged its own campiness, then the illusion would have been shattered.  Instead, everyone is so earnest that the characters seem real in their own world, even if it's a slightly distorted mirror of our own world.

The gore manages to be totally excessive without losing its edge.  At points (like the brain bug sequence) it becomes almost cartoonish.  But, again, it works because it takes itself so seriously.  It forces the viewer to take it seriously too.

In regards to the political subtext: it's there if you look for it.  But the meaning is not necessarily clear.  There are some throw-away lines which reveal a lot about the society in which the characters live, as well as some bigger-picture themes which say a lot.  That kind of stuff is great fodder for discussion, but I'll let you interpret it your own way.

I'm not going to say this is a great film.  But it is definitely better than it deserves to be (if that makes any sense).  Save it for a sci-fi night, and let the battle begin.

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