Pitch Black

Directed by: David Twohy

Written by: Jim Wheat, Ken Wheat, David Twohy










Sometimes, a good movie flies under the radar.  Other times, a movie flies under the radar because it stinks.  Unfortunately, "Pitch Black" is one of the latter.

A ship carrying a variety of passengers, including escaped convict Riddick (Diesel), crashes on a seemingly deserted planet.  Soon, though, the stranded travelers realize that something terrible lurks in the shadows of the planet.  And, just conveniently enough, they've crashed mere hours before an unusually long eclipse.  Can they trust Riddick to help them get off the planet?  Or will these light-sensitive beasts tear them apart before the sun emerges again?

Now, if only the actual script were as good as the summary I just wrote.

I remember when "Pitch Black" originally came out, and although I was intrigued at the time I never bothered to actually go see it.  The rise and presence of Vin Diesel in the action film world had kept this film in the back of my mind for a long time.  Finally, I broke and watched it.

And I regret it.

It's a real doozy of a stinker.  For a movie which hinges on nasty beasts coming out of the darkness, the movie is obnoxiously bright (literally) for nearly half the running time.  Then, when it finally does get dark, there's really nothing to see.  We only get a few shots of the monsters, but they are revealed to be unimpressive.  (The design of the beasts seems to have been culled from the reject pile of "Starship Troopers.")

Now, a movie lacking in action can be held up by interesting characters.  Unfortunately, these characters are more flat than a can of soda left out for a week.  Even the main character - Riddick - doesn't do much more than exist as a tough-guy.  At one point, one of the young characters reveals that "he" is really a "she" - but that shocking fact really has no impact or implications for the story.

Aside from a couple of "jump" moments, this movie was an absolute waste of my time, and I regret wasting precious internet bandwidth watching it.

The War

Directed by: Ken Burns, Lynn Novick

Written by: Geoffrey C. Ward

Ken Burns, who is known for making comprehensive documentaries about essential elements of American culture, tackles what is perhaps the defining moment in 20th century American history - the United States involvement in World War II.

With only seven episodes (approximately fourteen hours), "The War" is somewhat limited in its scope, considering the vast amount of material available. This is especially true considering how recent the events of this film are to modern times, relatively speaking compared to Burns's previous subjects. To focus the film, and to avert criticism, each episode begins with the epigram "The Second World War was fought in thousands of places, too many for any one accounting. This is the story of four American towns and how their citizens experienced that war."

This film marks a significant departure from the typical Ken Burns style. Usually, he divides his documentaries into a mix of interweaving storylines and character sketches, backed with historical narratiion and dynamic and illustrated maps. Although the narration remains (in the deep voice of Keith David), the use of maps was limited and the storylines and character sketches were conspicuous in their absence. In their place, the film leans heavily on powerful first-person interviews and narratives with those who were actually a part of the war effort. It's hard to criticize such a shift in style - especially given the opportunity Ken Burns could take advantage of to have these people share such incredible stories. But it's also hard not to imagine which character sketches could have been included, considering the vibrant major participants - Eisenhower, Roosevelt, and, of course, Patton.

Another departure from the usual Ken Burns model is that this film does not seek any kind of balance in the narrative. Enough has already been written about the omission of, and later inclusion of, the contributions of African-Americans, Latino-Americans, and Native-Americans to the war effort, so I will not add to that. This lack of balance, though, extends to the fact that only the American side of the story is told. No description of the experiences of the British, French, Russion, or German people is provided. This surprised me, given how much consideration was provided to the Confederates in Burns's prior work "The Civil War." I appreciate the need to limit the scope of the project, but I feel that a little more depth on some of the non-American subjects would have enhanced the overall picture.

All of this criticism aside: This film is perhaps the single most complete description of the American experience at America's defining moment. It's amazing how four moderately sized cities managed to have representatives at nearly every major event in the war, which shows what an all-encompassing event World War II was. Burns managed to effectively balance the experiences of the military servicemen - the battles that typically define a war - and the perhaps equally important experiences of their friends and families back in the city related to the war - the supply rationing, the shift in industrial output, and the emotional strain known as the "home front."

Credit should be given to Burns for not shying away from the well-documented horrors of war. Brutal, graphic, disturbing pictures are shown in full color without any censoring. Some of the interview subjects describe their awful physical and emotional experiences, often in horrific and indelible detail. None of it is shined or candy-coated or softened or twisted into some kind of patriotic message. I will never forget the story of one widow who received the telegram informing her of her husband's death. Although this could have been turned into a message about patriotic sacrifice, Burns instead leaves an eerie silence after describing the widow's "unearthly howl."

Personally, I appreciated the significant amount of time given to the air war of the European theatre, which Burns focused especially on the experiences of B-17 bomber crews. WWII documentaries tend to focus on ground battles because they are easier to document and recreate, but the fact is that the bombing campaign over Germany crippled (if inefficiently) German industry, which directly provided the Allies a critical advantage during the invasion of Europe. (My own personal stake - my grandfather was a B-17 pilot in the Army Air Corps - 8th Air Force, 100th bomb group.)

To conclude: "The War" may be the single best overarching documentary of WWII, a cornerstone of the modern American culture. It is limited in scale to only include the American perspective and involvement in the war, and it is limited in scope to focus on only the involvement of the citizens of four American cities. Despite these necessary limitations, the film manages to include every major campaign and battle in gritty detail. There may be better documentaries about individual aspects of the war, but it is hard to imagine a documentary that better encapsulates the entire American experience known simply as "the War."

The Thing

Every once in a while - though probably more often than I'd like to admit - I get the urge to see a good horror movie. Nothing to keep me up at night, mind you. Just a good fright. The last time I got that itch, John Carpenter's "The Thing," scratched it perfectly.

The premise of the movie is simple enough: The team at a (dubiously) scientific research outpost in Antarctica finds itself infiltrated by an alien life-form which can replicate itself into nearly any body - human or animal. One by one, the team members - led by helicopter pilot MacReady (Kurt Russell) become survivors, trying to keep the alien from getting leaving Antarctica and decimating the earth's population.

This movie has some pretty amazing moments of suspense. The scene in which the survivors have to submit to a blood test managed to keep the tension incredibly high with relatively little dialogue or action. The climactic attempt to destroy the monster managed to keep me near the edge of my seat (not "on" the edge, though), considering that most of the tropes used were basically cliche.

My favorite moment, though, is right at the end. I love the fact that the conclusion of the movie is left wonderfully ambiguous. Two survivors remain, each suggesting that the other may be the monster in disguise. Yet, without the necessary equipment, they are each powerless to stop the other or prove themselves innocent. They, like the viewer, are left to wonder whether or not humanity is safe. For a brief moment, just before the credits roll, the viewer and the characters have the exact same perspective.

The special-effects in this movie are gruesome and gory, although the stop-motion creature sequences seem a bit waxy and choppy. I think the creature would have been more terrifying if director John Carpenter had taken a cue from Ridley Scott's work in "Alien": a monster is often most terrifying when you have no idea what it looks like or how it kills. Seeing so much of the best so early in the film trivialized it. The Thing became tangible and limited, while much of what makes a creature horrible is that, when left vague and abstract, it can become almost anything capable of limitless terror.

From the primitive premise, clunky dialogue, straight acting, and absurdly huge special effects, this movie has "B film" written all over it. But the synergy of all those parts manages to elevate it to a "B+ film" - or even an "A- film" when watched in just the right mood.

Director: John Carpenter

Written by: John W. Campbell Jr. (story), Bill Lancaster (screenplay)