Mama review

                Fairytales and horror films have always shared a lot of aesthetic common ground and some might even argue that they sprung from the same node of their genetic tree. For example,the lore of the brothers Grimm in particular seemed to have a darker, more hostile edge, that has provided many future storytellers with grisly imagery and creative ways to kill their characters—“Hansel and Gretel” comes to mind. Certain filmmakers like Guillermo Del Toro and (sometimes) Tim Burton have retained the folkloric aspects of their horror, appealing to both a wider age-demographic and (sometimes) to those with high-brow tastes.  Del Toro has since expanded this brand by producing the works of other like-minded directors. The latest product released from the faux-Guillermo factory is “Mama”, a dark fantasy directed by Andres Muschietti, based upon his 2008 short film.

                The story of “Mama” revolves around the lives of two little girls who are forced to raise themselves from toddlerhood, after their father murdered their mother, drove them to an abandoned cabin and mysteriously disappeared. Five years later, when  the girls are now nine and six years old, they are found by the government and placed into the foster care of their father’s twin brother (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau) and his reluctant punk rocker girlfriend (Jessica Chastain). Because the children were left parentless and removed so distantly from civilization at a young age they have developed with primitive and feral traits. The youngest in particular struggles to even vocalize. It is soon revealed however that in their five year absence the girls took solace in the protection of a mysterious, dark force they call “Mama”… and she may have followed them into their new home…and she might be a little too protective of her children(cue the creepy lullaby music here).

                Okay, so here are the things I liked about “Mama”: It’s pretty eerie, it treats its characters fairly, and it has a pretty effective monster design. The movie wisely teases the creature effects through most of the first half of the flick, before the plot has to start answering its own questions.  When the monster is finally revealed, it actually lives up to the premise and it never ceases to be unsettling or genuinely disturbing to look at. Full points should be given to the effects and art direction. Also, the Del-Toro-esq, fairytale aspects of this movie are apparent by the first act and reappear quite strongly by the end with a surprisingly tender “Beauty and the Beast” like conclusion.

                And here are the things I didn’t like about “Mama”: it’s pretty derivative, the sound design is a bit too persistent, and the entire cast seems to be acting on the same, somber note. Essentially this is a rehashed assemblage of the gothic, ghostly-shrieker , not too dissimilar to films such as “The Ring”, “The Others” or “The Changeling” (the 1980 film with George C. Scott, not the Angelina Jolie vehicle).

                There are a lot of scares in this movie and it does a good job at keeping the audience on edge, but oftentimes it just can’t resist those easy, quiet-quiet-LOUD, jack-in-the-box jolts and unfortunately they kind of cheapen the whole experience. 

                Ultimately this is pretty generic, potboiler chiller, but it performs its base functions adequately and it has enough panache to justify its own existence.  The expository dialogue leaves a lot to be desired, and though it might remind you of that horrible tooth-fairy movie, “Darkness Falls”, I like how it thoughtfully ties in its themes of motherhood and maternity, I like how the child characters aren’t just treated as plot devices, and I really liked the elongated, spindly look of “Mama” herself. Certainly, for a PG-13 horror movie released in January, you could do much worse.

Grade: B -

Originally published in the Idaho State Journal/Jan2013

Zero Dark Thirty review

                Brought to us by Kathryn Bigelow and Mark Boal, the same Oscar winning duo responsible for “The Hurt Locker”, their new film “Zero Dark Thirty” finds new grounds and darker depths into America’s recent war on terror.  With her last two films, Bigelow has transformed herself into a new kind of director who does nail-biting military thrillers in a way that reinvigorates the genre and reminds people how to tell an entertaining story with characters we actually care about.

                Obviously, due to the political milieu of the subject matter, this awards contender has come under a lot of fire. Unfortunately this controversy will precede most people’s initial viewing experience and might influence their subsequent opinions on the film itself. Personally, I feel that this is not a partisan story and I don’t think that it condones government sanctioned torture, even if Boal and Bigelow are compelled to depict that aspect of espionage. Does it state that torture is effective? That’s debatable but ultimately I think its incidental.

                This movie traces the timeline of America’s investigative intelligence as it tries to locate, capture, and kill those held responsible for the terrorist attacks in New York on September 2001. At the top of that list is Osama Bin Laden, and this film chronicles the ups and downs of that particular wild-goose-chase, up to and including his eventual assassination by the American military in 2010. Jessica Chastain plays Maya; a young and idealistic CIA agent who has been hired to lead the hunt. While fighting the good fight, she finds herself having to stay focused and positive while her senior members lose hope and fall out of the mission, as new laws and new challenges are constantly offsetting the probability of finding their ultimate enemy. 

                Though this movie is filled to the brim with character actors and interesting B-listers, such as Jason Clark, Mark Strong, Joel Edgerton, James Gandolfini and many more—all of whom do a wonderful and effective job—this movie belongs to Chastain, who works as the glue that holds the dramatic through-line to its seat-clenching conclusion. Much like Jodie Foster’s role in “Silence of the Lambs”, her character is faced with adversity from every practical and professional angle. And as her colleagues are either quitting or getting killed, she must project strength, forcing to hide her mounting fragility by the weight of the task at hand.  It’s a very subtle and nuanced performance and though she shares the screen-time with many others, the center-of-consciousness never shifts very far from her perspective. The successes of the film rests on her abilities as an actress and in that regard she burns bright with equal parts grace and gravitas.

                Much like the character of Maya, Kathryn Bigelow helms this massive film with surgical precision and tunes her abilities as a director to new and exciting frequencies. Those who liked “The Hurt Locker” will appreciate how she has managed to build upon that promise with something bigger, but nonetheless intimate.
                Even though this is studied exercise in procedural drama, she designs each scene to breathe and naturally develop, allowing for expressive beats and tender character moments. The movie is almost three hours long and surprisingly the pacing rarely seems to suggest that, that is until the end of the second act where it starts to feel a little draggy in the middle. 

                Though “Zero Dark Thirty” has had to battle for its legitimacy, people need not bring their prior affiliations or allegiances into the theater. This isn’t a political documentary, it’s a cerebral pop-corn film and it’s a damn good one at that. The truth about how these events took place is varied and subject to criticism. But with that in mind, it is important to consider that this is a movie that’s more interested in posing questions than providing answers.

Grade: A

Originally published by the Idaho State Journal Jan/2013

Texas Chainsaw 3D review

                 The original 1974 “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” is generally a film that a lot of (younger) people have never seen, but will claim it to be the goriest, bloodiest movie of all time. In reality, it’s actually a much more subtle and slower burn than the title might suggest.  When Tobe Hooper released his debut film, it was a surprise breakout hit for a non-Hollywood, low-budget exploitation film. It was made with a lot of skill and craft, and it presented a bleak vision of America’s rotting lower-class, where a rural family traps and kills passers-by for food, furniture, and entertainment. It was unsettlingly realistic and brutal in its depiction of complete depravity, but it really wasn’t all that gory. Most of the gore is either imagined by its viewers or perpetuated in cinematic urban-legend by those who have never dared to watch it.

                In the wake of the original masterpiece (yes, I use THAT word) there have been several remakes and sequels that have never matched its quality or its sheer delirious terror. However, it comes to my surprise that no one has ever managed to make a 3D version for this franchise until now. Unsurprisingly, in gaining three dimensional chainsaws and viscera, we are left with one dimensional story-telling and an absurdly sloppy screenplay.

                 “Texas Chainsaw 3D” begins mere seconds after the final moments of the 1974 original, where we find out that the cannibal family had been hiding other relatives, including a mother with a new-born. After the last survivor rats out the killers to the police, they are ruthlessly executed, as their farm house is burned to the ground.
                   The baby, however, is rescued and sent to live with a loving suburban family where she grows up with no prior knowledge of her psychotic history. But that all changes when she receives the deed to a mansion (that was never even mentioned in the original movie…but okay) that she legally obtains after her great-whatever dies. She then decides to take her dumb college friends to check out the new house. Mysteries are then revealed and murder lurks behind every door.  Though, the biggest mystery that is never solved is how our heroine manages to be college-aged when she was supposedly born in 1973 and she uses an iPhone as a flashlight--Just saying.

                Of course this is a bad movie and you should already know that going in. It’s completely ridiculous, gratuitous, and almost nothing in it makes any sense.  Where the original used intense moments of build-up and silence to construct the tension, this one ramps everything up for chain-rattling jump scares and 3D meat-slicing—both deli and human.  I won’t bother crediting any the actors because none of them are noteworthy or particularly talented. They are there, they are young, and some of them are quite busty. 

                One of the qualities that made the original quite scary and effective is its graceful simplicity. There were no motives, no subplots, and no catharsis by its end.  In this new version, the narrative is painfully convoluted and bulging with unneeded chunks of exposition, including a misguided side-story dealing with the vendetta between Leatherface and the local policemen—who strangely enough, have not aged at all in 39 years.

                Despite how truly bland and hackneyed this stupid thing was, it’s kind of fun in that tacky-80’s-slasher-film way.  If you’re the type of horror fanboy who gets a kick out the homosexual subtext in “Nightmare on Elm Street 2” or the bad one-liners in “Jason Takes Manhattan” then you might enjoy the cheesiness and un-ironic cliché’s that this movie’s full of.  But if you don’t feel like wasting thirteen dollars and ninety-two minutes for a mild chuckle, then by all means don’t bother with “Texas Chainsaw 3D”.

Grade: D 

Originally Published in the Idaho State Journal/Jan-2013

Beasts of the Southern Wild review

                Tragedy from the eyes of a child is never an easy thing to portray for several reasons: One, the effect and gravity of the situation hinges on the abilities of the child actors, two, it’s sometimes hard to tell when too much is too much and three, if you downplay the harsh realities of the situation(s) to appeal to a younger demographic, then you can sacrifice the weight and emotion of the entire film.  However, if you push the drama and stakes too high at the character’s expense, then you can easily end up with exploitation, manipulation, or numbing melodrama—“Precious”, I’m looking at you.

                This year, seemingly out of nowhere, a small film called “Beasts of the Southern Wild” was released and surprisingly, it finds a perfect balance between the woe and whimsy that the subject matter calls for. At the heart of this story are two powerful performances from two unknown actors; Quvenzhané Wallis, the lead child actress who plays the ferociously independent Hushpuppy and Dwight Henry plays Wink, her broken father.

                The story surrounds the events of a hurricane-effected New Orleans and the small, impoverished, shanty towns that surround it—known in the movie as The Bathtub. In this place, Hushpuppy is a strong-willed 6 year old who lives with her single father. Not only is he an alcoholic but he is also trying to hide that fact that he is dying of an unknown ailment. After the hurricane  destroys their homes, Hushpuppy and her father look for other survivors in their make-shift motor boat.  Together they have to brave the traumatic flood that submerges their entire society, while at the same time trying to keep a sense of community when the white-coats come to the Bathtub to bring their sense of ‘order’.

                What keeps this from being a timely, Lifetime movie-of-the-week, is the approach and style that the director Ben Zeitlin brings to this story—based on a play by the writer Lucy Alibar. The phrase ‘magic realism’ has been used to describe this film’s style and that would be accurate. Zeitlin presents everything, no matter how sad, how disgusting, or how tragic it is, from the mind of an imaginative six year old. Everything is larger than life, everything is special, and everything has a precise design and wonderment. This is best exemplified by a particularly strange subplot dealing with prehistoric boars breaking free from the polar ice-caps, charging to find the movie’s young heroine.  Though the camera work is loose and handheld and the sets and costuming are seemingly gritty, the production of this movie is otherworldly. The locations recall a post-Katrina New Orleans but something about the tone and look of everything feels fantastic and strange.  

                The two lead performances, both by Wallis and Henry, are incredibly effecting. Quvenshane’s stern young face and commanding line-delivery keeps you from feeling too sorry for her, as she seems better equipped for this terrible event than the adults around her.  Dwight Henry’s portrayal as her father is absolutely heartbreaking. We watch with pity, like his daughter, as he tries to keep his strength and integrity, even as he is falling apart or can barely stand up.

                This is a film that is meant to evoke a strong reaction. How you react will have a lot to do with your individual perspective. If you are a child then you could view this as a down-the-rabbit-hole kind of adventure, if you are an adult then you could read this as a political allegory about poverty, classism, global-warming, and/or the government’s effectiveness during national crisis.  But none of these ideas would work if the emotional beats weren’t there. What is most impressive about “Beasts of the Southern Wild” is that even as it is concerned with socio-political ideas, it still works as a piece of tender-hearted entertainment, where its rewards are matched by its ambition.

                This is probably the best film I have seen all year, and that isn’t an overstatement. The acting is expressive, the set design is inspired, and the original score by the director is lilting and memorable, as it nicely accents the fantasy element of the plot. Like the best mix of 80’s-era Steven Spielberg, 70’s-era Terrence Malick, and anytime-Terry Gilliam, this movie will move you in a way that most films don’t bother to anymore. 

Grade: A

Originally Published in The Basic Alternative/Jan-2013

Les Misérables review

             Musicals are one of the last genres that completely embraces the artifice of filmmaking. Performances are allowed to be broad and melodramatic, sets are designed to fit within a small or contained space and the songs within are constantly reminding the audience that what they are watching is not necessarily reality but a metaphorical representation of it.

            There is something inherently cinematic about musicals because they are more purely devoted to notions of escape and the willing suspension of disbelief. Though their heyday may be past, the recent success of films like “Chicago” and “Moulin Rouge!” proved that this style still has its place and that certain audiences will allow themselves the indulgence of a musical as long as it can earn its swagger. A movie that does not do this at all (though inexplicably still seems to be making money) is Tom Hooper’s Oscar-courting adaptation of “Les Miserables”.

            This film, released on Christmas, is based on a famous Broadway operetta, which in turn was based on a popular novel by Victor Hugo. The story takes place within a 20 year span of the French revolution. Hugh Jackman plays Jean Valjean, an ex-thief who becomes wealthy, but who must hide his criminal past from a vengeful policeman named Javert, played by Russell Crowe. Anna Hathaway plays Fantine, a broken prostitute who leaves her daughter Cosette an orphan, allowing for her employer (Jackman) to assume her parental responsibilities. Ten years later, this young girl becomes a young woman (Amanda Seyfried), who then falls for the affections of a battling revolutionary (Eddie Redmayne), whist at the same time is trying to stay out of the ever-brewing feud between her adopted father and his arch nemesis.

            Tom Hooper, who has previously directed “The King’s Speech”, sets a stylistic precedent from the very first scene that hobbles the entire experience. Though the performances are big and over-mannered and the main musical sequences are supposed to be sweeping and theatrical, Hooper decides to shoot everything in a documentary, hand-held way, which in turn only draws more attention to the musical’s inherent affectations. This then creates an unsettling and oftentimes frustrating, anachronistic disconnect with the material.  The sets are beautiful, the costuming is thoughtfully detailed and the play’s aesthetic—or whatever little of it we see—is expensively recreated but the camera-work never seems to be very interested in the production quality. Instead, what we get is close-up after close-up, showcasing the nostrils and the gaping maws of its actors.

            And then there is the singing... There are maybe four lines of naturally delivered dialogue and about four or five actual songs that are at all memorable. The rest is a warbling mess of sing-talking, done in fluctuating competence from its cast. Jackman and Hathaway can hold their own, but Crowe is obviously far beyond his reach and oftentimes his line delivery is embarrassingly flat or out-of-tune. Reportedly, Hooper wanted to record all of the vocals live on camera to capture ‘real’ performances, and occasionally he gets some chilling moments, but more often than not he gets what feels like watching an amateurish, community theater doing a lousy dress rehearsal, where the songs are barely whimpered out.

            I know that some people have been deeply moved by this film version of “Les Mis” but for me this is a movie that makes all the worst choices with the best intentions. I was never engaged in the story and I never felt an emotional connection with the material because it was so sloppily presented. While there is a load of talent suggested amidst this bloated clutter, with almost three hours of nothing but breathy Broadway renditions and an epileptic camera style that left me starved for a damn wide-shot, this movie felt boring, obnoxious, and downright assaultive.

Grade: D+ 

Originally published in the Idaho State Journal/Jan-2013