Carrie review

              Brian de Palma’s 1976 adaptation of Stephen King’s “Carrie” is not only one of my favorite horror movies of all time, but among one of the greatest films of the 70s. It’s full of surprising performances, tender sentiments and it brilliantly walks a stylistic tight-rope between intentionally campy melodrama and operatic terror.  But despite my adoration of the original film, I can confidently say that this 2013 remake really, really sucks.

                The idea of Kimberly Peirce taking a stab at this story isn’t the worst idea anyone ever had. After all, this is the indie director of 1999’s “Boys Don’t Cry”, the film that got Hilary Swank her first Oscar, playing a transgendered victim of intolerance.  In a lot of ways the structure and themes of that film is not too far off from King’s first novel— a teenage female protagonist with a secret, spends the first two thirds of the story heading towards a violent but inevitable conclusion.  And though we didn’t exactly need a new iteration of “Carrie”, at least Pierce’s approach to “Boys Don’t Cry” was unflinching and painfully honest.  However, none of that nuance or personality is explored in this flaccid, overproduced remix of a remake.

                Whether trying to remain faithful to the original novel or paying homage to de Palma’s 1976 version, this new adaptation doesn’t stray far enough from what we have already seen. Carrie White (Chloe Grace Moretz) is a depressed, unpopular high school senior who’s bullied at school by the other students and emotional and psychologically abused at home by her religious zealot mother (Julianne Moore).  Upon secretly realizing that she has the ability to move things with her mind, a fellow student surprises her with kindness by having her football star boyfriend take her out to the prom, where she is unwittingly targeted by her enemies with a dark and disgusting prank.

                What makes this story unique to the horror genre is the way the audience is asked to sympathize with Carrie’s plight.  She’s a meek and vulnerable character in a cruel and mean spirited world, and when the violence and mayhem does take place, it’s not only supposed to be cathartic and thrilling but also tragic and unfair as well.  Unfortunately, this updated version seems so poised to get to the action that it blandly glosses over the gravity and pain that’s necessary to inform the characters and their motivations. This is in no small part due to the obvious miss-casting of Chloe Moretz in the lead role. 

                Unlike the mousy pathos that dripped from every gesture and tick that Sissy Spacek encoded her character with, Moretz simply mugs and pouts as a way of ineffectively masking her natural confidence.  By the end of the film, when she does get to boldly enact her revenge, Chloe’s physicality, combined with the film’s artificial looking special effects, more closely resembles a superhero than an enraged victim of life-long abuse. Either way, she never makes an effective connection with audience.

                 Julianne Moore does her best to downplay the histrionics of Piper Laurie’s iconic portrayal as the monstrous Margaret White, but in trading Piper’s operatic tantrums with whispered brooding, the character recedes to the point of barely registering on camera.

                Stylistically, this lazy remake doesn’t have a specific vision. It’s vaguely modernized, as we can tell by the inclusion of smart phones and Youtube, but even this semi-clever cyber-bullying conceit isn’t explored deep enough to fully realize its potential.  Most of all, and most importantly, this film is frustratingly boring.  It slavishly copies the original beat-per-beat but somehow still manages to miss the power and the sorrow inherent to this story. It isn’t scary when it’s supposed to be scary, it isn’t sad when it’s supposed to be sad, and it’s only funny when it isn’t supposed to be at all. 

Grade: D-

Originally published in the Idaho State Journal/Oct-2013

Captain Phillips review

               English director Paul Greengrass has defined his career by way of making films about post nine-eleven paranoia. He tackled this subject most explicitly in the movie “United 93”, about the airplane that was voluntarily crashed by its passengers on September 11^th, before it could fly into its Washington DC target.  Of course, he originally made his name directing two of the most profitable and critically praised sequels of all time, in “The Bourn Supremacy” and “The Bourn Ultimatum”—a franchise that I kind of don’t ‘get’. But even in those films, as pulpy as they are, Greengrass brought a sense of terror-awareness into their genre tropes.

                With “Captain Phillips”, a true story about a blue-collar freight-sailor whose ship is attacked by a small group of armed Somalia pirates, Greengrass returns to the type of Hitchcockian claustrophobia that got him awards consideration in 2006 for his work in “United 93”.

                Perhaps more of a situation than a story, the screenplay focuses on the emotional turmoil that the characters go through while trying to survive this tense ordeal. The film begins calmly while we watch the Phillips (Tom Hanks) as a he prepares his crew for the worst. After receiving an alarming email, he stages a loose terror-drill and shows the men where they need to hide when/if they are attacked. When their ship is eventually taken over, these men are forced to helplessly wait in the dark corridors of the engine room while Phillips tries to peacefully negotiate with the desperate assailants.

                 Also, at the front of the film, the screenplay makes some lite—and somewhat incidental—thematic juxtapositions, in regards to the world’s economic struggles.  We see Hanks as Phillips talking to his wife (Catherine Keener) about the competitive job market in the United States just before a cut to the land-bound pirates making deals with their war-lords about how much money they are expected to bring home.  But pay no attention to the man behind the subtexual curtain; while the political gesturing isn’t explored enough to register the way it’s supposed to, “Captain Phillips” is a lean, no-nonsense thriller, and a fairly effective one at that.

                 The always-dependable Tom Hanks plays this character with a firm consistency and a sharp consciousness of his emotional state. He begins the film as a the kind of hard-working boss who isn’t particularly liked by his employees but who still manages to send tender emails back home to his worried family. Later, when the action kicks into gear, we see how his demeanor changes into a selfless, humble man who tries his best to keep his crew safe, even as he puts himself at risk. By the end of the film, after he has been put through the worst  kind of psychological torment, Hanks successfully shows us how Phillips is able to hide his inner terror with a fragile facade of courage. The rest of the ensemble, including African non-actor Barkhad Abdi , who plays the leader of the pirates, should be praised for their convincing performances as well.

                As a stylist, Greengrass never directs his action movies in an overly- showy or attention-seeking manner. Rather, his approach is indebted to the story and how best he can serve it.  While “Captain Phillips” isn’t saying as much as it thinks it is, it knows how to raise the stakes and keep them up for the duration of the film. Occasionally, to create a sense of documentary realism, the camera shakes or the focus pulls more than is probably necessary, but the tension is strong enough and the performances are good enough to keep you invested in how this set-up will play out.

               

Grade: B+

Originally published in the Idaho State Journal/Oct-2013

Gravity review

              People have often wondered what defines the difference between a ‘movie’ and a ‘film’. Generally speaking, outside of an academic critical approach, I tend to ignore these distinctions, but nevertheless I understand the notion behind them. Popular movies that are made for the general masses are not intended to be art. So these days, when you do see something that fits more into the ‘film’ side of things, and in the next auditorium of the multiplex they’re showing a giant robot picture, it comes as both a shock and welcomed surprise, especially if the movie manages to trick the movie fans into enjoying a film.

                “Gravity”, a survival space epic directed by Alfonso Cuaron, does exactly that; it surprises, it engages and it reminds you that film is a visual medium, defined by its ability to tell a story using imagery. Like the sci-fi schlock next door it is a highly technical movie experience but unlike most of its IMAX 3D contemporaries it also has a beating heart and blood pumping through its veins. 

                While the narrative isn't built around an ever-unfolding plot, the beauty of this film is in its structural simplicity. Sandra Bullock plays Dr. Ryan Stone, a newbie astronaut who can barely keep her lunch down as she is being guided through her first mission in space,fixing an orbiting satellite. George Clooney plays Matt Kowalski, a NASA employee on the brink of his retirement, who listens to country music in his space-helmet while telling long-winded anecdotes. Matt's job is to keep Dr. Stone calm while finishing the mission, but just before their job is completed, some debris crashes into their work space, separating the two by miles of black nothingness. Stone then, with her limited training and experience, has to figure out a way to survive in space and communicate for rescue before she runs out of oxygen. 

                More science-faction than science-fiction, this simple story allows Cuaron to keep the focus on this film as an expressive experience. Cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki always activates the frame with many long single takes that slowly turns the camera in every direction, putting the audience in the same sense of weightless isolation as the characters, as we view the background details alter with time.  Cuaron meticulously manages his edits and he lets his set-pieces patiently accumulate and breath, building the tension into a heart racing palm-sweat, as every inch of movement becomes a life or death moment.  

                Amongst all of the beautiful, transportive imagery and the bravura film making, Sandra Bullock must also be praised for her ability to keep the audience emotionally connected with the human element of the plot, which is not an easy task in a film as technically concerned as this. Not only does she keep you caring, but this might just be her best on-screen performance yet.  While her dialogue is limited to half whispered prayers and cries of desperation, she brings the audience into her internal head-space, making you feel everything that she is going through, whether she strives for inner strength or resigns her self to failure. With all of that said, in some of the final scenes, the script does occasionally slip into some less-than-necessary speechifying that creates a brief but unfortunate distance from her fragile interiority.

                Not since Kubrick’s “2001: A Space Odyssey” has a film been able to so exquisitely capture both the awe and terror of deep space exploration.  And not since...well…anything have I been so impressed by the way a director has utilized 3D technology that I can’t imagine this picture being seen any other way.  

Grade: A

Originally published in the Idaho State Journal/Oct-2013

               

Rush review

  

             Two years ago, before he was introduced to the world as the superhero god Thor, the blonde Australian known as Chris Hemsworth was an unknown actor. Around the same time,well-vetted, ginger director, Ron Howard, made a failed buddy comedy staring Kevin James and Vince Vaughn.  Now, in 2013, with their newest film “Rush”, they are both in a much better place, pairing together for this historical biopic about Formula-One racing and clashing egos. Nothing here is astonishingly new,  astonishingly original, or even all that astonishing in general, but like a well-oiled machine, everything moves the way it’s supposed to and the film manages gets from point A to point B, with everything still intact.

                Perhaps playing on the ultra-masculine, god-like demeanor of his Marvel Thor persona, Hemsworth plays a cocky British car-racer named James Hunt, a real life, champion driver from the 1970s’. Along the way, while graduating from Formula Two buggies to Formula One speedsters, he meets an Austrian brat from a family of wealth a privilege named Niki Lauda, played by “Inglourius Basterds” actor, Daniel Bruhl.  While Hunt wins his way into the big-leagues, Louda buys his ticket in, starting an instant rivalry between the two talented drivers. Not making anything easier, they are also complete philosophical opposites, both on and off the road. Louda likes to live simply and race carefully, within the strict parameters of the race-track rules.  Hunt, on the other hand, seems more interested in reveling in his wealth and celebrity with anyone who is willing to show him a good time, especially beautiful women like the young Suzy Miller (Olivia Wilde), who he eventually--but not faithfully--marries out of pressure from his family and friends.

                Much of the film follows these two as they separately race their way to the top, knowing that at some point they will eventually have to show down against each other for the top prize. It’s an easy sports-movie formula, but this film pads that tired structure with a sense of tobacco stained, gritty 70s’ realism and two lead performances that are well-managed and well-rehearsed. 

                 In fact, most aspects of this film are thoughtfully conceived and executed. It has strong central performances, the tone is consistent, the world looks convincingly period, and the drama is handled in a way that feels honest and heartfelt, without drifting into sentimental melodrama. Both the direction and the camera work are also very nice and the sense of speed during some of the racing scenes creates a palpable tension and excitement. Other times, however, some of these scenes are over-edited and somewhat choppy and occasionally this tends to muddle the action or disorient the set-pieces.  More single takes or longer held shots on the track itself might have let these races breathe a little and given the audience a better sense of the length of each lap, but this is a minor quibble for otherwise quality offering.  

                I liked “Rush” but I can’t say that I fell in love with it. In part, this was because of the formulaic plot structure, and in some ways, because of the telegraphed emotional arc between Bruhl and Hemsworth. But as a character piece it doesn’t have to be too complicated and as a sports movie it doesn’t need to do much more than give you someone to root for. It’s better than average and in fact, it’s pretty good, but as a would-be prestige film there seems to be layer of textual gratification that just keeps it from reaching greatness.

Grade: B+

Originally published in the Idaho State Journal/Oct-2013