War Horse (2011)

A quick perusal of my top 100 films can tell you any number of things about me. For starters, that I have an unabashed love for all things Kurosawa. Then again, spending five minutes talking with me about movies could easily tell you that one. However, if you were to dig a little deeper. To seek out the connections and overlaps between many of the relating films, one constant should become entirely evident. I love me some good ol' fashion epics.

Throw a group of characters together, stretch their journey through life and war over two and half plus hours and low and behold, I'll be waiting at the end hands ready in applause position. So imagine my excitement when I found out that Spielberg was set to deliver such an experience. Let alone one covering one of the most oft ignored and yet still powerful wars in history, World War I.

From the sweeping landscapes of old English farm land to the mud enriched, rat infested, world of trench warfare, War Horse takes us on the kind of journey one might imagine would be found in the likes of a Disney film grown up. Joey, our titular horse, whose journey through a war with which he had nothing to do is sentimental to the highest degree, and yet at the same time strikes subtle and yet resonating chords on the true nature of war.

War Horse boasts what I might argue is some of Spielberg's finest directing moments in over half a decade. Not least of which is found in Spielberg's craft at creating a violent war film without much of the violence. In a way that would make Pulp Fiction era Tarantino proud, Spielberg creates graphic violence through carefully place camera movements. The substitution of imagery for actual bloodshed is a particularly nice decision - as evident in the riderless horses in one early battle sequence. This decision presents something I've been asking Hollywood to deliver for years - intensity without blatancy.

Of course for a generation like myself which has been born and raised on that graphical conclusion to events, these might leave some wanting. But I would like to hope that deep down one can admire the craft in coordinating and filming such scenes.

Still, where War Horse succeeds in visual poetry, it falters in a revolving cast of characters. Like many epics, War Horse deals with a wide array of characters coming and going, and as such the time for whole and complete character building is often left to the cutting room floor. Take for example Captain Nicholls and Major Stewart, played by the equally brilliant Tom Hiddleston and Benedict Cumberbatch respectively, who give off so much charisma in their short screen time that they still leave you longing for their return. Not to mention the sadly underused Eddie Marsan in the generally thankless role of Sgt. Fry towards the film's climax.

So in substitute for the revolving characters we are effectively given human bookends to Joey's journey. In this we find ourselves with Albert (Jeremy Irvine). The young, poor farm hand son of a perpetually drunken father (Peter Mullan) and fiery mother (Emily Watson). Albert provides much of the necessary scenes which help Joey build the skill set he needs to survive so many of the sequences he deals with in war. At the same time, Albert is also given a journey of his own to survive. Including a thrilling battle sequence - by far the film's most violent - as he seeks out his long embattled friend, Joey.

The rest of the cast is a wide assortment of "hey, it's um that guy" talent who deliver time and time again. But no matter what is thrown at us, there is never a doubt that this film is entirely Joey's film. For he is the heart of the matter. He is the life blood through which each character is given a reason for being. The film thrives and falls on the strength of his shoulders. Luckily for us all, he is made of stuff stronger than steel.

OVERALL SCORE: 8.00 / 10

Film Credits:
Directed By Steven Spielberg
Screenplay By Lee Hall and Richard Curtis
Novel By Michael Morpurgo

The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn (2011)

If Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull as a frail and uninspiring revival of a series that lead many to question the need for throwbacks to its origin, The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn is an equally worded title that hits back with a whopping "Indiana Jones style adventures will never die." And with the ever increasing quality of motion capture cinema, this style of film may just be here to stay.

Having not grown up with the Tintin stories, I went in to Spielberg's latest family-ready adventure a bit skeptical of my ability to latch on to the story. Sure, I had more than my fair share of blogging buddies ready at the shot of the pistol to sound off with any number of Tintin related facts or stories that I worried I may be overwhelmed. But Spielberg handles the transition for long time fans and newcomers with great precision. For those new on the scene, the core cast of characters are introduced. These introductions are swift, to the point, and lack an obtrusive nature films of its like often fall into.

Of course that's partially because none of these characters are particularly dynamic. Sure, they're a little rough around the edges - which goes a long way in making them believable and enjoyable - but by and large they each fall on one side or the other of a particular goal and its easy to determine which side of the fence they fall on. For a family film with great ambition this is understandable, and vintage Spielberg. After all it gives Spielberg the opportunity to explore this animated world in which he and his crew brought to life. And explore they do.

With some stunningly choreographed visual spectacles and action scenes that'll have you working a death grip on your arm rests, Tintin uses the three-dimensional world in which it operates to masterful success. In fact, I must say that remains my favorite component of the entire film. Granted that may be telling of the film's lacking in other areas, but by and large the action sequences more than make up for the other misgivings. I honestly felt like I was a kid, back at disneyworld, experiencing one of those simulation rides (e.g. the Star Wars Tours ride) all over again. They were eventful, constantly moving in a variety of directions, and full of sequences that made you want to jump up and yell "yes!" Of course you shouldn't, but that's because you're in a room filled with other people and that would be awkward.

But speaking of jumping up and yelling yes, how's about a big round of applause for the year of Andy Serkis. If they awarded a Most Valuable Actor (MVA) award at the Oscars each year, I believe you'd be hard pressed to find another candidate. Between this and Rise of the Planet of the Apes he has become living proof that even with just motion capture at your disposal, you can still act the hell out of a film.


Overall Score: 8.00/10

Credits:
Directed By: Steven Spielberg
Written By: Steven Moffat, Edgar Wright, and Joe Cornish
Comic Book Series By: Hergé

Hugo (2011)

Hugo has everything you need to make a classic movie that critics will eat up like kids at a candy store. You've got a director everyone admires, a cast full of solid character actors, a story about a child's coming of age, and to top it all off it's a throwback film to the dawn of cinema itself. Don't even get me started on the beautiful Paris setting, the amazing set designs, and the inclusion of one of my favorite directors of all time. So why is it that I couldn't shake the desire to pull a Maxwell Smart and say "missed it by that much" the second the credits started to roll?

I've spent a long time mulling it all over. Why didn't a film with everything I'd want in a movie not end up being everything I wanted in a movie? After all, I did everything exactly the way I'd always dreamed of doing it. I kept my knowledge of the film's plot low. I read minimal reviews. I didn't let any positive or negative hype impact me. I kept my expectations perfectly in check. I went into this film in a manner I wish I went into every film. But in the words of Jake Holman "what the hell happened?"

Hugo is a very good film. It is the kind of very good film you wish you could get more people to want to see. Not only because it is good but because it has the ability to open people up to something that so many of them vehemently close themselves off to. It longs to bring out the passionate nostalgia in any moviegoer, and inspire those who have historically remained in the dark. And it interweaves the history of film around the tale of an orphan child wonderfully.

Yet throughout the film I failed to create an earnest connection with any of the core characters. Despite all the sentimentality laden throughout, Hugo often felt as if it settled for melodrama when honest drama would have been more than enough. No more so than in the dealings with the film's titular character, Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield - greatest name ever?).

On multiple occasions I found myself rolling my eyes during the first act of the film as the foundation for our connection with Hugo is built. At first I didn't think much of it, but as the film continued, the plot unfolded, and I started to see the world around Hugo expand, I began to realize just how tough that missed connection made enjoying the film. After all, each main character - in their own way - is an extension of the base Hugo caricature.

Each of them is longing for something missing in their life. Most ostensibly this is found in the form of their place in the greater part of the functioning world, but more immediately they long for family, romance, escape, and the past. A remembrance of better times and a hope for more of them. The basic components of life so many of us take for granted in our everyday dealings with one another. These are holes left unfilled for many of these characters and Hugo's journey provides each of them - himself most of all - the opportunity to attain the very thing, or things, they're missing.

Without that heavy bond with Hugo, the entire tale at large is difficult to bond with. The scenes are there but my heart was never with them. From Papa Georges missing past to Isabelle's (Hermione Granger Lite) adventure seeking to the Station Inspector's effective representation of a future Hugo without those around him. All of the pieces were there but the puzzle never felt complete. So when it came time for my fellow movie goers to whip out a Kleenex and dab away the welling in their eyes, I found myself clean dry.

Hugo has a lot going for it, and those capable of latching onto the characters will likely find the journey rewarding of the highest order. For my own part, I found myself wrapped up in the world but fighting an uphill battle for the characters. On balance I still recommend it, but for now my appreciation for it outweighs my enjoyment of it.

Overall Score:7.50

Film Credits:
Directed by Martin Scorcese
Written by John Logan
Based on the Novel "The Invention of Hugo Cabret" by Brian Selznick

Moneyball (2011)

Moneyball is perhaps the most difficult film of the year for me to appropriately gauge my own enjoyment of. I know I enjoyed it. I remember laughing, smiling, cheering, feeling completely engaged in the subject matter like it was yesterday. Just what prompted those emotions to rise out from within me remains a bit of a mystery.

I remember the sequences which most tickled my various emotional receptors, but the interconnecting components which built to those sequences are foggy at best. If I had to narrow it down to a single reason, it would be the way Moneyball is designed.

Moneyball relies heavily on an interweaving of plot structures that could be most accurately defined as being part of the beginning or middle of a narrative. This is a technique that co-writer Aaron Sorkin executed to great effect in 2010's Social Network, where once again there was no singular climatic point which the narrative reached out to. Instead both films rely on character building, witty interplay, and audience interest in development of the backdrop device to build the film.

However, Moneyball lacks one of the more crucial aspects of Social Network's success, colorful characters. Outside of Beane (Brad Pitt) and Brand (Jonah Hill), there's not much left for viewers to hold onto. The core group of players which earn themselves the most screen time are generally down played, given a few good scenes, and then moved past. Even in the most crucial moment of one of their careers - and the film's closest thing to a climax - the setup is not wholly capable of meeting the viewer half way on the emotional response.

I suppose the most clear cut word for describing the feeling Moneyball inspires is "almost." From the direction to the acting to the writing, every bit feels like it's almost right where it needs to be. But it is that minute missing component that ultimately ends up weighing down Moneyball's potential. It's enough for two hours, and for many that's enough for all.

Overall Score: 7.00/10

Credits
Director: Bennett Miller
Screenplay: Steven Zaillian and Aaron Sorkin
Story: Stan Chervin
Book: Michael Lewis

50/50 (2011)

Often times in life its not the fears you plan for that throw up roadblocks, but rather the fears you never saw coming. The ones you hide behind under the belief that you're too young, live too healthy of a lifestyle, or too cautious and therefore they'll never happen to you. The very fears that allow you to get up in the morning and jog past busy streets, take those roller coaster rides, have that second hot dog, and breeze through the day while your conventional worries hog the rest of the time. Worries about your job, your living space, or your social environment.

Enter "cancer," the one word no human being on the planet wants to hear. Especially not when its directed in diagnostic format at them. But perhaps the greater question is once that word is out there, how do you react?

There's a lot to admire in the 2011 dramady that is 50/50. Its central figurehead is not a conventional cinema protagonist. The surrounding cast is each doused in their own collection of flaws and visible shortcomings as people, friends, and lovers. The approach taken to the very serious subject matter of cancer can be off putting to some, given the stark contrasting movements between levitating humor and emotional lashing out.

But at the core of it all is Adam, and I have to say he's quite a well crafted character, and one given the full treatment by Joseph Gordon Levitt. While it would have been easy to place Adam on the back-burner and use him as a medium to craft the characters around him, 50/50 Dives in head first in dealing with Adam's new found dilemma. We go on a journey through treatment, and the stages of acceptance as Adam not only overcomes some of his interpersonal problems, but also comes to embrace some of those peculiarities that make him who he is.

Behind the camera Jonathan Levine treads the thin line between style and substance. He intervenes only when he feels an added laugh or emotional tug can be gained through a bit of camera trickery, but for the most part holds himself at bay. His organization of shots and movement never left me wanting, never jerked me out of the film, or disassociated me with the characters. Will Reiser's steady pen boosts each character by laying on a level of complexity for each. Adam chews his nails, his therapist is unsure of herself and lacks seasoned confidence, his mother struggles with his father who has Alzheimer's and can't find a way to connect with her now sick son, his best friend tries his best to cheer Adam up but his plans are often misguided and seemingly selfish, and his girlfriend doesn't know how to be there when he needs her the most.

All of this plays out in a sea of well crafted drama and comedy, that floats below the line of greatness for me. Despite a few incredibly relatable and powerful dramatic moments, I still felt just on the cuff of that lasting emotional connection. As if there were a missing piece that would have turned a few passing sniffles and grins into a waterworks of tears and endless smiles. The added meh factor of Seth Rogan playing Seth Rogan squared did little to amplify my love for the characters. I don't dislike Rogan but his brand of comedy felt a bit out of touch with the emotional tone of the rest of the film. Sure Reiser and Levine do a find job of wrangling it in at the necessary moments of drama, but for the most part I wouldn't have minded him being put farther into the background.

Overall Score: 8.00/10

Film Credits:
Directed By - Jonathan Levine
Written By - Will Reiser

Contagion (2011)

Overall Score: 7.00/10

Ensembles are a tricky business. When done correctly they can become the magnum opus epic their creator so wishes to create. When done incorrectly they can feel disjointed, jarring, and unintelligible. Then there are those which fluctuate in the middle. Those ensemble works that fluctuate between greatness and sporadic, and unfortunately Contagion dips into the latter a tad too often.

Contagion takes the age old Hollywood premise and thrusts it into the modern world. What happens when a deadly, highly contagious virus enters society? Throwing a more realistic spin on the issue than your usual "I'm Mr. Evil General and I want to blow up the city" that has latched onto this plot line more times than I care to count (granted the number is probably around 3), King of Sporadic Quality, Steven Soderbergh, carefully crafts such a scenario. With fine attention to the various details involved, and some well placed reminders of social impact, Soderbergh is able to create tension in what could easily be construed as a crash course in Biology.

For my money the real heart and soul of Contagion lies on the shoulder of Matt Damon. Not only is he the character with the majority of the screen time, he's also the only character not wrapped up in the scientific and political narrative. In a sense, he's meant to represent the viewer. What would happen if you or I were to go through this scenario. The average man thrust in a world of uncertainty and chaos. And I have to admit it, if Soderbergh had made the entire film on just him I think this movie would have been inching closer to that coveted 9 rather than wrestling around in the 7 range.

The problem for me is, it didn't have to be that way. Kate Winslet is geared up for the emotional scientist point of view but she's out of sight and out of mind too often, and is cut off just as she's starting to gain traction. Marion Coitillard is next on the emotional bandwagon, but just as she enters an emotional setup scenario. The plot is left hanging, only to reemerge briefly in the end with none of the dots in the middle to make the necessary connection. Not to mention the incredibly apparent flatness of the emotions portrayed in her plot, even though many of the characters are dealing with deep personal issues. So that really just leaves us with Lawrence Fishburne whose plot wavers back and forth between some kind of interesting politics and decent emotional investment. He's definitely the forerunner for the next real honest connection, but his plot is sporadic at best.

He also becomes a big representative of Soderbergh's primary fault in Contagion - after the fact character building. I can think of several scenarios in this film where a character the audience is well familiar with will be in the middle of an emotional/important conversation with someone that the audience has no clue about. And not until after the conversation or towards the middle of it do we find out who that person is. It's hard to gain emotional traction when you can't relate to the levity of the situation. Sure this might work in a bubble for a twist, but the scenes aren't set up that way and I don't think it is what Soderbergh had in mind.

So what does that leave us with? Well there is Gwyneth Paltrow but she is more of a catalyst than a real player. Which puts us in the hands of Jude Law. I like what Law does here. He's a villain that's not really that villainous. More so the kind of blogger I try my best to distance myself with. In other words he's a narcissistic, arrogant arse of a human being. He comes to govern a strong shift in society to not trust the government with any task that influences their life. But more so than that he represents the lengths to which people will go to benefit from that mindset.

While it would be quick and easy to label the quality of Law and Damon's plots indicative of the overall quality of the film, one would forget the sheer number of half realized ideas floating about among all the other plot lines. That the aggregate quality of all the stories comes out positive does imply that in order to get the pudding you're going to have to deal with a few plain salads. A few stories which we might forgive their brevity due to their relative importance, but all the same often stumble about before they get to where they were going.

Soderbergh has a keen eye, and can create an environment for any story to thrive, but this one struggles to outweigh its lackluster moments. The monotone delivery of too many lines by too many actors who ought to know better doesn't bring things to life. It doesn't make the scenes more realistic. So he leaves us with the films few real emotional moments to hold onto. Reminders of what might have been.

Film Credits:
Directed By: Steven Soderbergh
Written By: Scott Z. Burns

Cedar Rapids (2011)

Overall Score: 6.50/10

It seems as of late that adult oriented comedy has taken on a handful of base characteristics that need be repeated in as many forms as one can possibly derive. The first being a brief time window in which to operate. This can be anywhere from one night to a couple of days. The second, a collection of people who seemingly get along though are constantly at odds with one another due to a few eccentricities. Then, upon those two you pile, interweave, or just dive right into a solid collection of drunken stupor and sexual awkwardness (or indulgence) as you can. Cedar Rapids doesn't deviate much from this formula. But what it does do is take that formula - which is all too often annexed by the 'Dude' persona - and written over some of its more gross out elements and morphed it into an appreciable comedy about the social awakening of a repressed man.

Tim Lippe (Ed Helms) is not exactly your run of the mill Hollywood star material. He's a mild manner, shy man in a sexual relationship with his once teacher (Sigourney Weaver), who has never left town, and his room would remind anyone of their own at age six. Yet, when his long time idol and fellow employ, Roger (Thomas Lennon) dies of auto-erotic asphyxiation - a fact Tim refuses to believe given Roger's family man mentality - Tim is called up by his boss (Stephen Root) to attend their yearly conference at Cedar Rapids. One hitch though, Tim must follow in Roger's footsteps and win the Two Diamond award or else he'll lose his job. Toss in chance encounters with the conference 'bad-boy' Dean Ziegler (John C. Reilly), the seductive party girl Joan Fox (Anne Heche), and the dignified Ronald Wilkes (Isiah Whitlock Jr.) and Tim is in for a weekend he'll not soon forget.

For me, Cedar Rapids is a film of highs and lows. While I appreciate the underlying jabs at company conferences and the dry, satirical nature of it, I often find myself twiddling my thumbs and wondering if the film was aware of what it wanted to accomplish. The scenes of drinking and John C. Reilly yelling random things of mild amusement are all well and good, but they don't do much for the film. Sure, they setup Tim for what will inevitably be his trek towards the 'dark side' of social entertainment, but it's just not an avenue by which I find much laughter.

In fact my favorite scenes of the film are the ones where Tim and his fellow cohorts are just interacting, helping each other out, or performing random tasks to gain various rewards at the conference. With their inner child on full display, they really bring out a great sentiment of adoration and pure joy. It's not bogged down by trying to turn awkward into hilarity. It's just plain fun, and you can feel it when you watch the characters and in turn it injects that emotional feeling of fun into you. A feeling that one can carry along with them throughout the film and keep them smiling. That's where Cedar Rapids is its strongest, and that's where I wish it spent its entire runtime.

Then again, more Isiah Whitlock Jr would also have been appreciate. The guy is just awesome. Every scene he was in this film I just wanted him to keep talking. Anne Heche is nice, and I would love to see her get more work, but her character's been done, and better (paging Vera Farmiga please report to isle Univarn). John C. Reilly is always a joy, but it felt like just another string in his ever continuing trek to be more Will Ferrell than Will Ferrell. Which leaves us with good ol' Ed Helms. Sure, I like him on one level just because we share a last name and I feel some kindred in that (though as far as I am aware there's no relation). Still, I think he's got a great screen presence and displays that he's quite capable of carrying a film on his own right.

So while I won't join the adoring mass whom have interlocked hands and marched out to champion this film, I will say there's plenty to love and respect here, depending on your particular comedy preference. It never goes so low as to dwell in the land of raunchy comedy, nor does it rise so hire as to be full on satire. It exists in the middle, and to the middle it shall stay. Enjoyable, and pleasant, it won't put you on the floor with laughter, but it'll keep a smile ready and waiting for you to take away as the credits roll.

Film Credits:
Directed By: Miguel Arteta
Written By: Phil Johnston

Limitless (2011)

OVERALL SCORE: 5.00/10

I'm willing to admit that movies - blockbusters in particular - really seem to enjoy playing up the awesome, no consequence lifestyle of those on the edge. That one can get away with anything just so long as their awesomeness is never disputed or directly challenged by anyone of equal caliber. In other words, sometimes movies love to champion people who are a bit morally reprehensible. Take Bonnie and Clyde for example. Murderers and bank robbers? No, you've got it all wrong! They're just free spirited lovers looking for a good time in an increasingly complex world. See, totally different when you've sheltered the viewer from the bad side in favor of playing up some deep inner passion that strikes cords with the viewer (I should say now before angry comments, I think Bonnie and Clyde is top notch entertainment).

And so enters Limitless, a movie that seems to derive an extreme perverse enjoyment from making its character as morally ambiguous as possible. The core message: Infedility and (questionably) murder are OK so long as you take a smart drug which allows you to cheat the system for your own gain, and you're smart enough to beat the side effects of that smart drug! You know, it's those kinds of lessons in life you just don't enough these days. If only we just reached out and told children early on "developing a drug addiction may be bad for your health but you'll feel awesome about it" the world would be a better place (sarcasm intended).

Then again, who am I to judge the morality - or immorality - of a man's actions? After all the people most directly hurt by his actions are generally amoral people. Nobody would bother shedding too large a tear for them after all, right? Eh, yes and no. As someone who enjoys vigilante movies - even those to the extent of Kick Ass - I would think myself so inclined to sympathize with this character, if he were a vigilante. While I don't deny that there's a certain element of self indulgance in vigilantes, they generally serve a greater purpose than themselves. Eddie Morra's main purpose is entirely, without debate, himself. A fact that his constant narration is certain to reiterate as he flies from debauchery to addiction at the speed of sound.

All of which would be for naught if it weren't for a half-hearted effort at giving his character some sympathy at about the half way mark. This is done by supplying the drug with some side effects - which basically come down to in order for him to survive he has to keep taking the drug, just not quite so much. This is brilliant on two levels. 1) It allows our character to have some consequence for his actions, albeit rather mute consequences. 2) He gets to keep on taking the drug and gaining the benefits of using it, but now he has an excuse! This keeps the plot rolling, the fast camera swirling, and sets us up for a "seriously why is Robert DeNiro in this" finale so full of narcissism, I actually had to pause and take a good thirty minutes just to absorb it all.

Was Eddie Morra the victim of society? Hardly, he gets everything he would have ever wanted in life, including - inexplicably - the girl. Sure, there's the whole near death a couple of times thing, but those were entirely the fault of his own actions. Perhaps he's more of a Daniel Plainview sinister? Maybe, but he's hardly that prolific, or indeed captivating of a character. Not necessarily making him any less of a bad guy, but all the same. Yet I can't deny that he did not ask for some of the things to happen to him, but when you factor in that the drug he used allows him unlimited thought power it's hard to say he didn't want a great deal of it. Nor was he afraid of the consequences of it. Or perhaps, like many a drug addict he simply refused to face the possibility of consequences. Who knows.

What I do know is that Bradley Cooper is mint at playing completely unlikable characters that somehow gain even the most minute amount of likability from those around him. Abbie Cornish could definitely win a Nicole Kidman look alike contest. Anna Friel should be used more often in movies. And Eastern Europeans still remain reliable bad guys for writers running up against a deadline. Especially if you make them give an monologue about how good Google is just before they torture someone. I'm willing to bet that high quality an endorsement didn't come cheap.

I do not deny that Limitless is an entertaining piece of film, and there in lies my own personal turmoil. Do I begrudge and belittle the film for basically trying to make the audience sympathize with someone this beyond the edge of moral fortitude? I haven't in the past and generally assume a level of 'buyer beware' mentality towards such dark endeavors. However, unlike other films of this nature I feel Limitless struggles in a far worse area. Simply put - it's structure. The whole narrative of the film feels off. It plays its sympathy card too soon, and the latter half just feels like an elongated monologue on why you should never bother to learn lessons in life.

This bothers me, and while watching the film left me going "wait, what about all the stuff you just spent 45 minutes building up to!?" Eh, they tossed it out in a throw away line and are now working on another plot entirely and building up to entirely different ending. This is a jump the film reiterates near the final dozen or so minutes, though it makes the transition with more gumption. Then again, if I were to say this film was married to the moral ambiguity of its lead, its mistress waiting in the wings would most undoubtedly be unexplained plot jumps.

Rise of the Planet of the Apes (2011)

OVERALL SCORE: 8.50/10

With a tagline that sent shockwaves through the cerebral cortex of any human being who dared look upon it, and a sequence of trailers sequentially more unsatisfying than the last, Rise of the Planet of the Apes seemed to me almost t-ed up for a screeching thud into land of the easily forgotten. Yet hidden beneath the surface of all that mangled marketing phooey is a film with a distinguishable depth, compassion, and curiosity that blends summer blockbuster and character study into a compact, and engrossing two hour journey.

The evolution of Caesar from curious but gentle hearted baby chimpanzee to the intellectual leader of a new race of super Apes brings much to the table for the viewer wanting such an experience. It would have been easy for the directors to throw a simple spin 'look dumb apes, now smart apes - action ahoy' rush job in order to maintain a high intensity thrill ride of a picture, but Director Rupert Wyatt and writers Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver knew exactly what needed to be done with this - create a world and put the viewer in it. I say it all the time, but it's perhaps the most undervalued trait a movie can give its viewer. If the team behind the picture can build that world, convince the viewer of the sincerity of the people inside it, and then carry on from there, it becomes a film viewers remember.

Though to build this world, Wyatt and company rely heavily on ol' fashion Hollywood archetypes, and seem comfortable not stretching out beyond such. Caesar is the real scene stealer for the film, and Serkis knows how to pull that off better than perhaps any other working actor. Franco's dry demeanor is put on turbo dry for this tale. Pinto is easy on the eyes but her character is given next to nothing to do, the same could be said for Brian Cox (especially the easy on the eyes part - just saying). Lithgow is always a delight, but he's unfortunately trapped in an overwritten role. The only two stars who represent the human side of the film with any memorable prowess are Tom Felton and David Oyelowo.

Felton, whose character embodies a rather generic 'bully' caretaker, shows a lot of gumption in what has to be said is basically a Draco-esque character to Caesar. Though he carries it off, and even goes head to head with Serkis in one of the film's most memorable scenes. Oyelowo is another underused character, given the good ol' fashion "I'm just in for the dough (money, not bread)!" boss, but seems to grow in terms of interest as the film progresses - culminating in a very well acted, and likely to be overlooked, final scene.

What I found most surprising about Rise of the Planet of the Apes is just how much story and development it manages to cram in an hour and forty-five minutes. The amount of non-verbal character building and molding it creates, it simply admirable - especially when you factor in the heavy summer-based requirement of action and violence to keep the audiences in check.

So, what kind of action does the film bring to the table? Well, more or less, it blends it into the plot. When I must say is such a refreshing feeling. The action works as a compliment to the story, not the navigating factor of it. Even the final battle, which we all know the film is building towards, doesn't feel forced or a simple baseline requirement. The film builds to its conclusion, not the other way around. Though with that comes a certain lack of sharp cynicism that reverberated throughout the prior installments, which I can honestly say was rather refreshing.

Film Credits:
Directed By: Rupert Wyatt
Written By: Rick Jaffa & Amanda Silver
Novel "La Planete Des Singes" By: Pierre Boulle

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 (2011)

Overall Score: 7.75/10

And so now, the journey ends. Matched in equal measure with whimpers and bangs, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 concludes in a manner equal to that of the film series itself - just fine. Never reaching beyond into that upper echelon of greatness, nor being bogged down by the sorrow filled world of rubbish. They are compliments to the novels that gave birth to them, and little more. Solid compliments, don't get me wrong. They are in every phrasing exactly what fans could want. Unfortunately because of this, they often find themselves wanting.

Deathly Hallows Part 2 picks up right where Part 1 left off (I know - shocker), as Harry, Hermione, and Ron plan their next move while Voldemort comes to the realization that his greatest secret has been unveiled. The game of chess is in full motion, and now is the time for everyone to move into position before the end is truly at hand.

Perhaps the most joyous aspect - for me anyways - to return to this installment of the series was a delectably thick slice of dark humor which had faded in Part 1 of the films. A sense of light hearted cheese mixed into tragedy which was always one of my favorite ingredients of the series. So, with a sense of urgency the film glides (or jerks) us from scene to scene, working its way to the epic finale of epicness (to steal a tagline from Scott Pilgrim).

A finale which I believe fully captures the scale of Rowling's novel, but also drags in with it some of the lesser aspects of the book. That is - the deaths. So many colorful and lovable characters fall in this battle and yet, they are merely sideshow pieces. Shuffled off to the side and and only presented to us in the aftermath, which I have always found as heartbreaking as the loss of the characters themselves. In favor of a few cheap gags, and an increased battle presence of Neville (something I fully support), we lose out on those solemn farewells and are thrust into the cries "wait, they died? When? How? COME ONNNNN!" Not to mention the problematic 'wait, who was that?' in the quick cuts to show the bodies before just as quickly moving away.

However, lamenting that one part would deprive us from the overall scale of the final battle - which is quite awe inspiring. A beautiful array of neon colors flashing throughout the dark scenery just illuminates the tension and intensity of the event. With many of our favorite characters returning in a collage of background characters running, screaming, and fighting for their life. We recognize their faces, remember the scenes of theirs brought a smile to our face, and continue on to the next.

Which brings me to something I struggled with. The entire time Deathly Hallows Part 2 was playing, I couldn't shake this uncanny feeling that I'd been through this before. I did try, oh did I ever try, but no matter how hard I did, it just wouldn't fade. The memory of Matrix Revolutions. A big battle leading up to an over the top final battle with an obscure switch up of an ending, none of which really makes all that much sense. Granted, DH P2 is beyond compare a better film (in part because it has the novel accompaniment to fill in the gaps), but I couldn't help but leave both thinking the same thing - "there should have been more." More exposition, more time to say farewell to the characters, more time dove into the final battle. Forgive my greediness, but one cannot help what they want.

Of course, getting what you want and liking what you get are two entirely different things. And I did quite love what I got. The tragic tale of Snape (Alan Rickman + super makeup for the win), the lovable presence of Minerva and all the Hogwart's staff, the coming of age of our main characters, and Ralph Fiennes absorbing all the scenery with each twitch and panic. There's such an assortment of wonder and beauty to behold in this adaptation. An exuberance of cheer and loss blended with an enduring dedication to hope.

Which I believe is a testament to the unsung hero of the Harry Potter films - Steve Kloves. Kloves burst onto the writing scene with his 2000 film Wonder Boys, and has been riding high on the Potter bandwagon since. Tasked with the ungodly difficulty of bringing Rowling's vision to life, Kloves has survived the series four directors (the film for which he didn't do a screenplay was Order of the Phoenix - Yates first entry as director). Though of course a great amount of respect must go to the directors themselves. Yates, not the most talented of the bunch, found a way to please newcomers and fans alike with his darkened style. He knew his place and knew what fans wanted. The dark tones and nature of Alfonso Curaon's Prisoner of Azkaban and the character dedicated sentiment that was Mike Newell's Goblet of Fire.

It is never easy saying goodbye to something that has been with you as long as this, but like all things one must travel onward and like the characters themselves - look to the future.

Film Credits:
Directed By: David Yates
Written By: Steve Kloves
Novel By: J.K. Rowling

Super 8 (2011)

Overall Rating: 8.00/10

It happens in a flash, and it's quick, violent, intense, and completely void of practicality. Like one might find in many action-adventures, it's a declarative statement to the viewer - "this is where we set the bar for the feasibility of our action" - and if you don't buy it then, you're going to find the following two hours a very bumpy ride. In essence, it's just the way modern blockbusters go. They establish, very early on the need for you suspend your knowledge of physics, and accept that the heroes are going to get through a few over the top encounters unscathed.

J.J. Abrams knows as well as anyone, that line is a tough one to cross, and that the modern viewer will buy into more than they'd readily admit. With audiences more prone to accept first, ask questions later, Abrams grabs hold with the very first action scene in Super 8 and goes for the whole nine yards. It's a risky move, especially considering the appreciation for the remaining hour and a half depends on it, but if the viewer takes the bait and is willing to be absorbed, I can say from first hand experience it's a hell of a fun ride to go through.

Twisting and turning through every classic narrative you can think of, Super 8 flirts with realms as closely intertwined as Jurassic Park and E.T. to the opposite extreme with Romeo and Juliet romantic leanings. A young, but fluidly dynamic cast bounce their lines off one another with pin point precision, and personable timing. Homages weave in and out with everything from copy/paste sequences to 'wink wink' references for the obsessive completest geeks. Something some fans of the classic Amblin and Spielberg tales have found waning in favoritism, but I for one ate it up like a fat kid at a pie eating contest - so to speak (yes, I've just piled on a 'wink wink' while noting a film's use of 'wink wink' moments - #skill).

I've always found myself drawn to films on aliens, government intervention, and coming of age. So, diving in headstrong with the triple threat almost seems to put my critical hat at a disadvantage. I found myself loving the strong performances of young child stars Joel Courtney, Elle Fanning, Ryan Lee, Zach Mills, Riley Griffiths, and Gabriel Basso. With Courtney and Fanning being the two real standouts - granted, Riley Griffiths in an Angus-styled role as the over agitated, misunderstood overweight kid left me feeling a bit nostalgic to my years as an overweight elementary and middle schooler... and high schooler... and, you know, let's just move on.

Another standout among the cast lies in menu item #1 of the Spielberg catalog, the despondent father Kyle Chandler, whom I've been waiting to grab another strong big screen roll following his breakthrough in 2005's King Kong. Matching wits with Chandler throughout is professional supporting man, Noah Emmerich - complete with fully functional seldom-speaking black underling Richard T. Jones (don't worry Jones, you'll always have a place here). Rounding out the star laden adult cast is a personal favorite in the form of Ron Eldard - who seems to finally be recovering from the quick pedestal kick out after House of Sand and Fog - as Elle Fanning's drunken, worthless father whose tale comes with handy built-in dramatic tie-ins.

But despite all the talent involved, Abrams plays this surprisingly close to the chest. Super 8 is cool, calculating, and intentionally manipulative. With over the top exposition dialogue capped off by excessive staging, Super 8 has perhaps more than its fair share of moments that induce eye rolling from more critical audience members. Yet, at no point did any sequence feel flat to me. Bouncing off from one shot to the next, the completed product connects each dot on its own pattern. A pattern that begs to blend the unbelievable and reality without care for their contradictory stances.

All of which collide in a finale that is immeasurably over the top, ridiculous in visualization, and fails to answer a handful of the questions the film presents... and you know what? It is awesome. Yes, I said it. Sure, the finale fails to complete the chain of events that it leads up to, but it also brings a sense of conclusion. A sense that the unanswered questions will be fine just lingering there. The characters, whose growth is at the heart of the film, has reached the peak and come into fruition, and the rest is just circumstance. It might leave a few audience members wanting, but I found it a perfectly fulfilling affair.

Of course, never one to disappoint, Abrams takes one last shot at an explosive finale, before quietly fading into the blackness of space and allowing the credits to roll. It's a bit cheap, but I found my funny bone well tickled, and for that I say - Super 8 is flawed, but it has a lot of fun being so. If you're willing to buy in to the extremity of its action, you'll find a heartfelt tale of wonder and childhood trauma to grab a hold of and cherish as you leave the theater.

Film Credits:
Written and Directed By: J.J. Abrams

X-Men: First Class (2011)

Overall Rating: 8.00/10

We all like to think we are the better men. That when you take away all our perceived notions of grandeur, and strip us down to our most bare boned nature, we exceed all others. That our species is dominant, and this world is ours to do with as we like. Now, you stand face to face with the knowledge that this is a fallacy. That your species is changing, and you will be left behind. Do you rise to embrace this change? Or do you sink in fear of it? Remember, your answer to this question, does not ensure your longevity, in either way. And also remember, those of this new evolution must make their decision with respect to you as well.

Such decisions lay at the heart of X-Men: First Class, as the dawn of a new mutation in the evolution of man comes into knowledge. Through juxtapositions and timeline identifiers, X-Men: First Class establishes the initial rift between Erik Lehnsherr, aka Magneto (Michael Fassbender), and Charles Xavier, aka Professor X (James McAvoy) that would forever shape the formation and social involvement of mutants throughout history.

Providing a global awareness demonstrably lacking in previous X-Men installments enables X-Men: First Class to deal with a wide spectrum of social issues at the backdrop of its core story. We are whisked away through a wide assortment of moral conflicts, both directly and indirectly tackled by our core characters.

It is a rewarding experience, especially for those fans of the series who have found recent installments lacking. Vaughn's direction is as on the mark as ever. Not too presumptuous, or trapped in self-aware moments, Vaughn offers a film that can be appreciated by both series newcomers and seasoned veterans. Fans of the series may be quick to point out that X-Men: First Class does not strictly align its timeline and plot-points with the fellow outings, but I believe it's actually for the best.

By declaring itself as both a part and separate from the entire X-Men series, X-Men: First Class is able to create its own narrative without worry about dates/times/character locations, which it does with solid precision. While at the same time, the film benefits from the predefined characters and attributes film goers are already familiar with. Though I am happy to report that use of it is limited, and that use is awesome.

But perhaps X-Men: First Class' greatest attribute lies in its use of character. So often these superhero films get bogged down by stereotyping, they forget to offer the viewer something to walk away with. A bit of the character to take home and reflect and embrace. X-Men: First Class most certainly does not. The film dives right into the mindset of each character, with the transformation of Magneto being the most gripping of all.

Michael Fassbender has been on the outskirts of public outcry for far too long, and this film is his first proper introduction to the world. Capable of maintaining and calling upon a wide range of emotions, he wonderfully navigates the complex internal struggle facing Erik Lehnsherr. Taking Erik from the blood ridden assassin to the philosophical leader, the viewer is given one of the more intriguing character studies of the last few years - well, definitely as far as blockbusters go.

James McAvoy continues his string of solid roles, proving he has what it takes to be both a leading man and supporting player in one go - and in all likelihood lining himself up to earn an Oscar in his 50s as a distressed middle aged father. Jennifer Lawrence and Rose Byrne provide the necessary confident female perspective, helping separate X-Men from its male driven counterparts in the Marvel universe. Kevin Bacon - despite having the wrong nose for his Magneto helmet - is an all around solid villain, earning laughs and boos in equal measure. While the rest of the cast handles their roles with the craft and consistency one would expect to find more often in big budget pictures. Still, who do I have to kill to get Jason Flemyng a viable acting part? Don't even get me started on Michael Ironside...

Of course, I would be remiss if I were to claim all that X-Men: First Class offers is without flaw. Now I'm willing to pass on the moldy cheese stench reeking from two of its core opening scenes. I'm also more than happy to let it slide that it's musical score is basically a greatest hits of Hans Zimmer scores for the last few years. But I must say, at the end of the day, I really wasn't all that impressed with how the film handled all of its transitions. And when you consider just how many there are, that's a rather big hurdle to overcome. The opening third is very jerky, not always well defined, and despite a collection of solid moments, felt like a cliff-notes writer lost control of his pen and went on a writing rampage before being tamed via electrocution rods and jammed back into his cage. Once the characters start coming together, the film begins to even out, but I couldn't help shake this underwhelming feeling of forced narrative usurping character moments. Some may call this nitpicking, but I contend that in a film of this scope, even the slightest nudge against the viewer's grip can take them off course throughout. Especially when you factor in the two-plus hour run time.

Then again, if you factor in the rushed production, studio's off the wall expectations, and a spree of casting that seemed as if they wouldn't stop even after the film was made, X-Men: First Class holds up incredibly well. The acting never feels like a let down - though Bacon's pug nose did meet its match in the Magneto helmet - Vaughn's directing is steadfast, and full of life (so much so I'm sure Ang Lee rolled his eyes more than once at the mid-film montage). Even writing team Miller and Stentz (who in my opinion were the weakest part of this year's Thor) found a solid middle ground to navigate with writer-director Vaughn and his longtime writing partner Jane Goldman.

All in all, X-Men: First Class is simply a top class superhero outing. If Thor was the jumper cables needed to get the engine going, X-Men: First Class is the sportscar that it started off and left the rest in the dust.

Film Credits:
Directed By - Matthew Vaughn
Written By - Ashley Miller, Zack Stentz, Jane Goldman, and Matthew Vaughn
Story By - Sheldon Turner and Bryan Singer

Thor (2011)

Overall Score: 7.00/10

Hi, and welcome to Thor Review number 9,291 in your Google Feed Reader. We here at A Life in Equinox are proud to now present our vaguely similar thoughts to what most other people are saying about the film. If you don't want to read anything negative about Thor, please cover your eyes and whack aimlessly at your mouse now.

If I could boil down Marvel's latest endeavor to just one simple concept, it would be this: self-awareness. Every movie is not just aware of its place within the context of the greater cinematic picture. It's also aware of its place within public lore. The aspects of its story that can be mocked, are. The aspects of its story that can be championed, are. And this concept succeeds because of one simple thing: Marvel knows the formula for making a successful superhero movie.

Unfortunately, one thing is lost amidst all that self-awareness... a sense of self. Each movie is so wrapped up in being ironic, self-referential, and inter-series referential that it leaves its characterizations at the door. Life defining events are simplified into one or two sentence conversations. Character backstories are summed up in single facial expressions. And the dialogue of the world you're creating... well it's just used without context, definition, or explination.

All these things are fine, if you're dealing with an audience in which one can generally expect a great deal of knowledge on the subject matter going in. However, much is the same case with Harry Potter, that's not the norm. And for those like myself who didn't grow up caring about comic books, or superheroes for that matter, much is lost in a sea of names I can't understand, people who just seem to be doing things at random, and a hammer whose Arthurian 'sword in the stone' narrative seems to deliver a limitless power source to its holder.

These are the things I find frustrating about modern cinema in general, but if I don't want to get lost in a sea of 'looky looky,' I suppose it's time I start adapting. However, don't expect me to go easily. There are certain basic components I expect from a film, and in that regard Thor reaches the finish line by the narrowest of margins.

If nothing else, I'd say it's the 'cute factor' that saves Thor. Despite its PG-13 and occasional subtle adult humor, Thor is a relatively tame affair which embraces a childlike innocence of a comic book reader. The jokes are well timed, founded on over the top characters, and packed with plenty of charismatic talent to see it through to the end. The visuals are stunning, amped up by 3D - even if it is blatantly unnecessary - and full of color and life.

Breakthrough villain, Loki (Tom Hiddleston) finds an off-kilter balance between Commodus and The Joker, making him equal parts mysterious and creative, but ultimately lacking the villainy of the aforementioned. Sure, he gets up to a bit of 'mischief,' but for the most part his efforts are conventional and ill-conceived. Sort of how one would imagine an evil David Copperfield.

Chris Hemsworth utilizes charm, intensity, and dead on comedic timing in bringing our Titular superhero to life. By playing up the camp of the role he is involved in, we are allowed to buy into the camp of the surrounding story. A style fellow actors Natalie Portman, Kat Dennings, the 'Warriors Three,' and the infallible Clark Gregg embrace in whole. Especially when you consider that the relationships built between them are founded almost entirely on non-verbal communication.

Anthony Hopkins knows how to command the screen, and is a dead ringer for Odin alongside Stellan Skarsgard, who just seems to exude fatherly experience with each vocalization. Leaving the rest in the capable, if not overtly theatrical, directing skills of Kenneth Branagh.

Thor does not reinvent the wheel, it just adds a polish, little bit of gold plating, and allows the viewer to get wrapped up in the continuous motion. And for those seeking out Thor for their viewing, that's most likely the full range of what they seek.

Film Credits:
Directed By: Kenneth Branagh
Written By: Ashley Miller,  Zack Stentz, and Don Payne
Based on the Comics By: Stan Lee, Jerry Lieber, and Jack Kirby 

Source Code (2011)

Overall Score: 7.75/10

You wake up and you're a different man. The woman in front of you is a stranger who's known this you for time untold. The people around you are completely different from the world you know. You panic, you sweat, you flea. And when you reach a breaking point, boom. All of the sudden you're yourself again. But something's still not right. You're trapped in a box. On the camera is another woman you don't know, but this one knows the real you. The situation is the same, but different. Two woman, two you's, two completely different lives. Welcome to the Source Code.

Despite what it would have you believe, Source Code is not a thriller. Sure there's the running, the chasing, and the battle with time. But that's all a cover. Source Code is really all about one very specific thing. Life, and how far we're willing to go to salvage it when pushed beyond the confines of death.

As many have pointed out, Source Code is basically Deja Vu, Groundhog's Day, and Twelve Monkeys tossed into a blender; and yet it manages comes out clean on the other side. Its persistent optimism, high sci-fi undertones, and challenging questions on identity and fulfillment give it an air of freshness that even the most hardened of film goers will intake happily.

By those standards, Source Code thrives. With minute changes on each go-around it avoids the redundant atmosphere Vantage Point buried itself under. As well, Source Code also utilizes the 'actual' world, outside the restrictive the focal program, to give audiences another layer of tension and characters to interrogate and seek refuge in.

For a second outing, Duncan Jones plays it safe and smart, despite the ominous presence of Dunkin' Donuts (who I could have sworn were behind it all). The plot keeps things rolling, inviting new details to entice the viewer, but always acknowledging the characters and the science fiction first. As mysteries go, Source Code's is a rather tame one. No big twists, limited ideology, and even less big shock moments. It is those characters that we grow to know and appreciate that provides us the drive to see them prosper. Where many writers would put their idea at the forefront of any mystery, Ben Ripley intelligently makes it more about the surrounding events and people. The Source Code world is always secondary, and justly so.

Yet, there is one character that is disturbingly absent from the entire affair - Sean. The body to which Jake Gyllenhaal's Colter Stevens now owns while inside the Source Code. Very early on we are brushed aside on any emotional connection as Goodwin (Farmiga) promptly tells us "for this mission he is irrelevant." However, as Source Code travels down the slippery path between reality and imaginary, he becomes an element of collateral damage. By the end, many of us would be hard pressed to know he existed at all. Especially given the film's strong stance of ignorance with respect to him.

A minor detail in some eyes, but I can't help but feel that we have been deprived some crucial detail of character development. All we know of him is a name and profession. Beyond that he is a zombie. An empty vessel, and the lack of any care or attention towards him leads me to call into question the saleability of the film's ending. While it wouldn't be the greatest of endings in any other circumstance, I do feel it could have considerably benefited from some exposition on the man.

But Source Code does an excellent job of blinding that. By playing up our central character's emotional transformation, we care more for him than we would ever bother to care about the elusive Sean. We come to love Colter Stevens for his heart, his care, and the manner by which he comes to view the world. He, in essence, becomes our vessel. Yet, he is one to which we share the world, and for that we feel a deeper emotional kindred.

Thus becomes the tale of Source Code. For those seeking only thrills, Source Code is not the path you should take. For those who want the thrills mixed in with something a bit more, Source Code is without a doubt a destination you'll enjoy the journey to. Besides, who can turn down two hours of solid Michelle Monaghan and Jeffrey Wright lighting up the screen?

Film Credits:
Directed By: Duncan Jones
Written By: Ben Ripley

Rango (2011)

Overall Score: 7.75/10

To be absolutely honest, it's not very often that I find myself turned off by a commercial for a movie and then perform a complete 180 when I finally seek it out for an official viewing. If anything, it is far more often that I am drawn in by a commercial and then sulk into a darkened corner and rant when the final product is unveiled. So, it is always a pleasant surprise to find a movie which without caution sails past my lowered expectations, and finds a place high upon my shelf of entertainment.

Last year, that movie was How to Train Your Dragon. This year, the movie is Rango. And believe me, the commercials couldn't be worse with respect to what this film is trying to do. Combining elements of Star Wars and the Sergio Leone Spaghetti Westerns, whose connection might be less vague than you realize, with surrealism in the vein of Hitchcock/Dali's Spellbound, Rango is a mentally entrancing experience. An experience wrapped in the fragile shell of generic loner becomes hero, family stamped and approved storyline simplicity.

With more curious head turns than a Dancing With the Stars audience at a Higgs Boson seminar, Rango is a charming, lonely soul whose infectious stories and flamboyant mannerisms can take charge of any scene. Where many films deal only with surface level, external aspects of being lonely, Rango's is tackled internally, through the use of dream expositions. We see the power of a vivid imagination and dedication to a character, mixed in with the longing for friends who both appreciate, but also idolize you. You're not just good to them, you're the best to them. And in the case of Rango, that draw means more to him than even the most basic fundamentals of his personality.

Depp delivers a whimsical performance as the sporadic protagonist lizard, Rango. Rich in layers, and heavy on quirky, the character is T-ed up perfectly for Depp's cinematic persona. Ned Beatty continues racking up the villainous vocal roles transition from a cuddly teddy bear to the turtle mayor of Dirt. A straight forward, self-interested baddy whose evil ways rely more on Beatty's strong voice command than demonstrable action. And simply put, the movie couldn't handle much more characterization than that.

The rest of the cast is a hodge podge of worthwhile characters, each with their pre-associated character quirk to maintain their usefulness throughout the run time. There's not much digging to be had here, and the film's better for it. Rango is by all accounts a character piece, living the shadow of the family genre. It's only there because the main story wants to be, but it could easily transfer to another medium without fault.

That's not to say Rango is without faults. Despite the high voltage action, the film Rango can be as unfocused as its titular star. It can turn a hilarious moment that will split the guts of audiences right into the kind of comedy you'd expect to find on some Saturday morning cartoon rehashing the same joke over and over. Taking the ride of Rango is like hoping on a beast of a roller coaster. When it's high, it's as high as any would dare go, but when it's low... well, let's just say the fall is steep, quick, and may involve nausea. But it is to the endless credit of the talent involved that those low moments are brief and far between, using every bit of inertia to keep the movie going up.

Gore Verbinski may have lost me on the last two pirate films, but he sold me hook line and sinker here. Rango is a pure enjoyment of a watch. Granted, its referential obsessions may be lost on those without the cinema knowledge to back it up. Seriously people, if you're over forty and didn't get that was Clint Eastwood, you need a good talking too!

Film Credits:
Directed By - Gore Verbinski
Written By - John Logan

Addendum - Am I the only one who went 'oh come off it' when Music By Hans Zimmer rolled out into the credits? At least half the music in the movie was The Good, the Bad and the Ugly and the Harmonica theme from Once Upon a Time in the West.

The Adjustment Bureau (2011)

Overall Score: 7.25/10

Set against a mosaic of blue and gray control interspersed throughout bright world of free will, The Adjustment Bureau takes on the long standing battle of Free Will vs. Pre-Ordained Path. And much like its political savvy centerfold, Adjustment Bureau knows to walk the thin line right in between the two. Unwilling to commit to religious overtones or undertones, Adjustment Bureau is a fresh spin on a tired romance genre, blending in a science fiction - fantasy element with some pseudo-religion that supplies just enough juice to keep the engine rolling along.

Despite being a romance-thriller, The Adjustment Bureau is surprisingly tame on both accounts. Instead, the film relies heavily on drama and anticipation in building to its inevitable 'run for freedom' climax. In turn, utilizing the strength of its characters to get it there. This is an admirable decision in an age in which unnecessary chase sequences to nowhere have become common place, and romances have been 'dumbed down' to 'asshole gets the girl.'

Relying on its cast of colorful characters, and the romantic inclinations of its audience members, The Adjustment Bureau finds a way to overcome the many 'really?' moments that would plague a film of this nature; while still maintaining viewer interest. Matt Damon is better than he's been in a few of his more 'Oscar-Bait' centric roles as of late, and Emily Blunt is always a delight to watch. Anthony Mackie continues his upward trend following The Hurt Locker, and John Slattery provides the film with a much needed whimsical edge. Terence Stamp seems set for a collision course with Frank Langella for the title of 'ultimate talk-only bad guy in a suit and hat,' but Langella still holds the edge. Last, but not least, professional 'that guy' Michael Kelly rounds out the film's strong cast, and gives us the necessary realist amidst this sea of fantasy.

Despite the film's unique color scheme, abandoned entirely by the marketing team, writer-director George Nolfi doesn't bring much to the table that one wouldn't expect from other directors. His greatest strength lies in his awareness of the openness to the world he has created. In a Matrix style environment where every door can lead to anywhere, Nolfi incorporates this motif through a series of exciting chase sequences spread across the entirety of New York. This high speed contrast keeps things exhilarating, allowing the film to touch on the finer landmarks without being too obsessive about them. Granted the one-two punch of Yankee stadium and the Statue of Liberty is a bit pushing it.

However, Nolfi also shows a concern in dealing with his supporting characters. Mackie's Harry Mitchell could have easily been written off as your typical 'they're not all bad guys' routine, but Nolfi takes the time to explore and expand deeper. He's more than just a knowledge bridge to the bureau, he serves as the center of the character web, keeping everything in balance for us to appreciate. Unfortunately, this comes at a cost a bit big to chew on. The almost complete loss of characterization for our main romantic counterpart in Elise (Blunt). We don't understand her reasoning, and her backstory is rushed at cataclysmic rates through brief encounters.

The obvious consequence leaves the romantic stronghold of the film in a bit of muddy water. You can stand to be there, but it's far from the comfort and safety you would expect given the conditions. It is by those standards that I find myself quite torn on The Adjustment Bureau. It's good enough to be enjoyed and appreciated, but where one can find potential, many can easily find fault.

Film Credits:
Written and Directed By - George Nolfi
Based on the Short Story By - Philip K. Dick

The Way Back (2011)

OVERALL SCORE: 7.50/10

There are certain rules to the epic that have trickled along through most any film of worth. First, you save characterization until the end of a character. Whether it be through death or narrative completion, you allow the audience to guess on why characters act the way they do, with minor hints thrown in, and deliver only when it's time for them to step aside. The second is that while you can revisit, you never repeat. Even if the film is about monotony, you must find new ways of tackling the same subject. Put them on a shelf and only go back when you're in dire need of a plot point to move along.... or if your film is building up to something mentioned early on.

It is by those rules alone that The Way Back flounders about, struggling to elevate beyond 'just good.' From Truman Show to Master and Command to Gallipoli, Peter Weir is a proven pictorial master of the camera. He can craft prolific shots, wrap them around mesmerizing scores (as long as they're not techno), and integrate even the most rascally of scripts. So I find myself a bit troubled by his latest outing in The Way Back.

The film tells the tale of a group of political prisoners, during the Soviet Union's occupation of Poland, escaping their imprisonment in Siberia, trekking all the way South through USSR territory, and into China before eventually escaping Communist land upon reaching India. Wide in scope, wondrous in imagery, and captivating in premise, The Way Back drinks up all that can be had of the long standing tales of men versus nature. And it is in that aspect that the film seems unsure of what to do.

Water is the constant driving force of the men. From the backwoods of Russia to the deserts of China, much of The Way Back is centered around the consistent lack of water. Remember the rule on repetition I mentioned earlier? This is where The Way Back struggles. Finding water then losing water and then finding it again and losing it, this point is hammered home beyond description throughout the narrative. To keep this sentiment from feeling too draggy, Weir finds solace in the characters.

Some coming, some going, Weir keeps a consistent stream of new faces and new tales to tell. Mark Strong takes the force for the opening setup. Collin Farrell becomes the colorful criminal through the early to late middle. Saoirse Ronan then steps up to nail in the final few character arcs before the main crew are finally established enough to take it the rest of the way. This setup works sublimely because it helps keep you constantly guessing about the backgrounds of our characters, only offering tiny nibbles as they brave harsh landscapes.

That's where Jim Sturgess, Ed Harris, and lesser known actors Dragos Bucur and Gustaf Skarsgård become crucial to the film. Sturgess is more than capable of handling the film, but as the movie goes on the requests for his acting chops to be at a premium seem to reside. Harris is more than charismatic enough to carry the role, but his performance feels hollow in the best of times. Bucur and Skarsgård have the talent, but spend much of the first half of the film being just faces among the crowd.

In essence that very fact becomes the crucial misstep in Weir's The Way Back. For all the imagery, beauty, and intense moments of human struggle, the setup just isn't there. The movie rushes everything. "Oh these are my friends. Look snow. Look mineshaft. Now we're running in the forest. Now we have no water in the forest. Have water, oh hi girl. Damn you mosquitoes. Look desert, wait where did the water go? Oh look water, wait... why are you dying? We ran out of water? When? Wahoo India!"

Now I apologize for that horrid generalization of the film, but that's a bit of how the movie plays out. If it weren't for the talented cast and situational intensity, the movie would be a total misstep. Luckily enough for the viewer those things are there, and the high intensity pace keeps drama constantly flowing. Weir just does enough to create an emotional connection with the characters at just the right time, but it's a few shots short of greatness.

Film Credits:
Directed By: Peter Weir
Written By: Peter Weir & Keith R. Clarke
Novel By: Slavomir Rawicz