When I saw the first trailer for How To Train Your Dragon, I must admit it didn’t pique my interest. A non-Pixar film is automatically fighting an uphill battle in the animation industry, and Dragon just didn’t seem that interesting to me. So I practically surprised myself when I decided to check out an advanced screening (in 3D, no less) at the Mann’s Chinese Theater in Hollywood on Thursday night. I was also surprised with how much I ended up enjoying the film.

How To Train Your Dragon shares plot elements with a lot of stories we’ve seen recently. The plot follows Hiccup, a young Viking living in a culture that thrives on fighting dragons. His dad is the chief of the village and wants nothing more than for his son to grow up to be a hard-nosed Viking like the rest of the tribe. That’s what Hiccup wants, too – but the problem is he’s kind of clumsy and seems to be more of an inventor than a warrior (he’s the apprentice to a blacksmith). When Hiccup uses one of his inventions to take down a Night Fury (the most mysterious and rare of all dragon classifications), he finds he doesn’t have it in him to kill the beast and instead befriends it. As the rest of the story unfolds, Hiccup attempts to convince his tribe that dragons may not be as bad as they thought.

So why did I like this film? First off, aside from the overly-cartoonish characters (admittedly a Dreamworks style that I don’t particularly care for), the animation was phenomenal. There were a few sequences in which Viking ships were travelling over water where I literally whispered “wow” in the theater because of how beautifully the water was rendered. I know it’s a small detail, but it was some of the best CG water I’ve ever seen. More than the water, though, I loved the actual “dragon training” sequences. Remember the scene in Avatar where Jake Sully’s Na’vi flies through Pandora on the back of a dragon? This film does that same sequence, but better (and about half an hour longer). You can practically feel the wind on your face as Hiccup and his dragon soar through the air, coast above the water, and dodge through rock formations. It’s genuinely thrilling filmmaking, and I had an insane amount of fun with those scenes.

I mentioned before the film shares plot elements with a few other films. Besides the Avatar similarities (which are too blatant to ignore), How To Train Your Dragon also borrows a bit from Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, one of my favorite animated films of the past decade. The protagonists in both films are “different” from societal norms; they are outcast inventors trying to impress their fathers and score their first girlfriend at the same time. They both get in over their heads, but eventually prove that not only is it OK to be different, but it’s ultimately necessary for the well-being of their respective towns. Oh, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the (slight spoiler alert) huge monster dragon that appears near the end of the film bears a striking resemblance to the Kraken from the upcoming Clash of the Titans. The animators must have been pissed when they saw that Titans trailer.

Rising above the shuffle of filmic references and breathtaking visuals is a solid cast featuring Jay Baruchel (She’s Out of My League, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice) as Hiccup, Gerard Butler (300, Gamer) as Stoic, Hiccup’s father and village chief, and late night talk show personality Craig Ferguson as Stoic’s right hand man, Gobber. Butler and Ferguson relish in their Scottish accents, while Baruchel mercifully plays it straight and avoids any annoying vocal tricks. America Ferrera, Jonah Hill, Christopher Mintz-Plasse, and Kristen Wiig round out the cast in supporting roles, all to fine effect. (Hill plays a character clearly based on Jack Black.)

The film tries to introduce a romance that didn’t work for me, partly because Astrid’s (Ferrera) transformation from “badass alpha-female” who wants nothing to do with Hiccup to “instant girlfriend” was rushed and didn’t feel natural. There’s even a scene reminiscent of Aladdin’s famous “A Whole New World” montage where Hiccup and Astrid fly for the first time together, but it isn’t enough to make their relationship believable. With that said, the visuals during that sequence were spectacular. There’s one shot in particular that stood out as something I’ve never seen before. The camera stays locked in a side profile view of the pair flying atop a dragon as the dragon goes into a flying flip, with the background around the camera rotating but the trio staying right-side-up for the duration of the shot. It’s a cool little touch; add that to the training sequences I talked about earlier and I think we have one of the most gorgeous films of the year so far. It’s no surprise that Academy-Award winning cinematographer Roger Deakins was a visual advisor on the film.

Speaking of visuals, I haven’t mentioned the 3D yet. Like Pixar’s Up, this movie uses 3D as a means of adding depth instead of bringing things out into the face of the audience. I’m generally not a fan of 3D, but this felt totally organic and didn’t distract from the story at all. However, if you’re not willing to part with the extra cash for the more expensive 3D ticket, I’m confident the film will look just as dazzling in the standard two dimensions.

My last point comes with a brief disclaimer: I’m fully aware some people are going to accuse me of reading too far into a “kid’s movie,” but I figured I’d bring this up anyway. At one point, Astrid disgustedly looks at Hiccup (who has just failed a training mission in Viking Camp) and says “our parents’ war is about to become ours. You better figure out whose side you’re on.” Poignant words from a movie geared towards kids, especially today. Later on, Hiccup and his father argue over the merits of saving the dragons or fighting them. “They’ve killed hundreds of us!” Stoic yells at his son. “But we’ve killed thousands of them!” Hiccup replies. “They’re just defending themselves.” I’m not going to use this review as a platform for my own political beliefs, but it would appear someone was trying to slide a little current affairs into this movie. For those who would argue with me on this, let me offer a bit of defense: I think the aforementioned points are just as relevant as the political references in The Dark Knight. How To Train Your Dragon was based on a book written in 2003, so it’s probable that if those specific bits of dialogue were in the text, they were written with the War on Terror consciously or subconsciously in the author’s mind.

Chris Sanders and Dean DeBlois co-wrote (with a few others) and co-directed, and overall I had a really fun time with this movie. The characters aren’t as fully rounded as I’d like, but the breathtaking visuals and fun tone of the film more than made up for any missteps along the way. While I haven’t seen many of Dreamworks Animation’s films outside of the Shrek series, How To Train Your Dragon definitely ranks up there next to the first Shrek film as my favorite of their work so far. Unlike the Shrek sequels (and, from what I hear, other Dreamworks Animation films since), this movie does not rely on pop culture gags AT ALL and instead chooses to focus completely on the story and the characters. Obviously this was a great decision on their part, one I hope they repeat in the future. I’d recommend this movie to anyone of any age. How To Train Your Dragon hits theaters on March 26th in the United States and March 31st in the United Kingdom. Until next time…

It’s not difficult for the adept moviegoer to predict the direction Martin Scorsese’s Shutter Island travels; the fun is in the ride. The Oscar-winning director has crafted a psychologically charged thriller that is as much about recapturing a classical style of filmmaking as it is a showcase for the acting talents of star Leonardo DiCaprio.

The plot is familiar enough: In 1954, a pair of “duly appointed federal marshals” (an irresistibly fun phrase to imitate with a Boston accent) arrive on Shutter Island to visit Ashcliffe, the federal mental hospital for the criminally insane. A woman named Rachel has vanished, and it’s up to Teddy Daniels (DiCaprio) and his partner Chuck (Mark Ruffalo) to find her. As a threatening storm places the island on lock down and Dr. Cowley (Sir Ben Kingsley) begins playing mind games with the marshals, Teddy must battle through delusions, drugs, and hysteria to discover the truth behind Rachel’s disappearance and relive his own horrific wartime experiences in the process.

Like I said: if you’ve seen the trailer, you know this movie is going to tackle the tried and true question, “what is real?” Thematically, the film this instantly reminded me of is Total Recall, the 1990 Arnold Schwarzenegger action flick directed by Paul Verhoeven. Like that film, Shutter Island presents a world in which reality is called into question, and it’s our job as the audience to sift through the details and discover the truth for ourselves. Tonally, the movie reminds me more of an old Vincent Price film; the “trapped on an island” setup and mind games lend well to recapturing the claustrophobia of 1940’s film noir (Key Largo comes to mind). Scorsese’s style also fits this mold well – his use of close ups help to force the viewer in for a closer look (mirroring Teddy’s journey) and he employs quick cuts to keep the audience slightly uneasy and uncertain of anything they are seeing.

The score, an eerie mix of previously recorded songs, was put together by Scorsese’s frequent collaborator Robbie Robertson. Surprisingly, it works extremely well, providing an old school vibe that is overpowering at points. (The introduction to the island in the opening scene is fantastic.) But the uncomfortably loud volume (again, only at certain points) definitely served its purpose, driving the audience into their seats and cringing to escape the pulsating strings and deep orchestral tones. In Shutter Island, the score is used as yet another manipulation, keeping the viewer off balance and intensely aware of every detail.

For the sake of full disclosure, let it be known that I’m a huge fan of Leonardo DiCaprio – so take this next paragraph with a grain of salt. DiCaprio is my favorite actor working today, and his performance here was outstanding. The movie itself has a sort of B-movie vibe to it, not taking itself too seriously and allowing certain aspects (like Ben Kingsley’s performance) to be wonderfully over the top. DiCaprio’s performance, on the other hand, was as straight as an arrow. We needed him to be believable since everything on the island is questionable. He takes us on a personal journey and we can feel every emotion seething through him on the screen. We completely buy into his viewpoint, and Scorsese and Co. knew that the entire film rides on this performance. The actor is fairly selective about his film projects and always strives to push himself into a challenging role, and Teddy Daniels was different enough from other characters he’s played to meet his needs. If this movie was released back in October of 2009 as initially planned, we would most likely be discussing the battle between Jeff Bridges and Leonardo DiCaprio for Best Actor at the upcoming Academy Awards.

The cinematography is striking, avoiding cheap camera tricks in favor of a classical shooting style that retains suspense and simultaneously borders on beautiful. The disorienting aura surrounding Teddy’s flashbacks and slowly infiltrating his existence is translated skillfully through the camera, allowing us the luxury of an enjoyable ride even if we know (or at least suspect) where the path will end.

The script, written by Laeta Kalogridis and based on Dennis Lehane’s novel, is complex and layered, giving Teddy a solid arc and providing a captivating commentary about living with guilt. Teddy’s flashback sequences, both of his days as a soldier at the liberation of Dachau and memories of his deceased wife, are well placed throughout the movie’s run time. Small-but-solid parts for Jackie Earle Haley and Max von Sydow also add to the creepy and moody atmosphere.

Overall, Shutter Island is my favorite movie of the year so far. It’s tight, suspenseful, well-acted, well-directed, and well-shot. Was it worth the wait? Absolutely. Even if you think you’ve figured out the “twist” from the trailers, it’s still a joy to watch Scorsese give us a film that so wholly embraces its film noir roots and, as an added bonus, features DiCaprio’s most complex role in years. Until next time…

I’ve read some middling reviews of Crazy Heart that essentially say the only reason to see this film is Jeff Bridges’ Academy Award-nominated performance. While Bridges undeniably raises the appeal of the movie, I’d argue that Scott Cooper delivers an entertaining film that is more than merely a showcase for one of the best actors of our generation.

The movie tells the story of Bad Blake, a 57-year-old country music legend who has fallen out of the public eye. Touring the country by himself in his ‘78 Suburban, he plays bowling alleys and dive bars to small crowds, barely making a living. He gives an interview to a reporter, Jean Craddock (Maggie Gyllenhaal), and their relationship provides the foundation for the film. Along the way, Blake reunites with a young country singer whom he once mentored.

First-time feature writer/director Scott Cooper wanted to tell the story of Merle Haggard, but couldn’t obtain the rights. So he turned to “Crazy Heart,” a novel written in 1987 by Thomas Cobb. Cooper made a fantastic choice to tell the fictional story of Bad Blake because, unlike the typical biopic, we don’t know how this story ends. We don’t enter into this film carrying our own bias for or against an actual musician that inhabits our world. We aren’t subconsciously questioning why the director didn’t include what we perceive as milestone events in the main character’s life because we don’t have any prior knowledge of this character. At the same time, by basing him so closely on the lives of Merle Haggard, Kris Kristofferson, and other country legends, Cooper easily tapped into our expectations for Bad Blake. We instantly pinpoint this character and his situation, and from the first frame of the film can recognize his story. Cooper gave us what appears to be a blank slate, but upon closer inspection already has outlines drawn out for us.

But what might be one of the film’s best strengths is also a potential weakness. By delving a little too far into the derivative, the movie can feel overly familiar and loses its way at certain points, meandering until it hits plot points that move the story forward. While I initially thought these wandering segments of the film weren’t as important, in hindsight I’ve been given a new perspective: I think the movie was designed this way on purpose. By including the relevant with the seemingly irrelevant, we’re given a much more realistic look into Bad Blake’s character and can extrapolate his life story out of these moments without a single flashback in the entire film. Sure, there are some borderline stereotypical aspects – surrogate sons, rehab, etc. – but the movie also feels startlingly real at times, and the characterizations (not just Bridges, but supporting characters) lend an air of authenticity that makes Crazy Heart one of my favorite movies in this genre.

Allow me to briefly add to the growing chorus of supporters for Jeff Bridges and his work here. He completely disappears into this role, and definitely earns every bit of praise he’s getting. Similar to Joaquin Phoenix in Walk the Line, Bridges himself actually sings in this film and sounds pretty convincing as a country performer (after I saw the film, I went home and downloaded one of the film’s songs from iTunes – something I NEVER do). But how this film differs from Walk the Line is in the details – an interview with Scott Cooper reveals that Bridges and Co. actually sang live on set as well as in a studio, and Cooper used the audio of the live performances whenever possible. This adds yet another level of realism to the production of this film; one that you can feel on the screen and unquestionably hear through the speakers.

The music is fantastic, and every song sounds as if it could be heard on the radio. This, I’m sure, is thanks to T-Bone Burnett, a music producer who has worked on such albums as The Wallflowers’ “Bringing Down the Horse” and contributed to Crazy Heart as a music producer and songwriter. “The Weary Kind,” the theme for this film, earned Burnett (along with fellow composer Ryan Bingham) an Academy Award nomination for Best Original Song in a Motion Picture.

Through all the praise I heard about this film before I saw it, I heard almost nothing about Maggie Gyllenhaal’s performance. She’s since been nominated for Best Actress at the Oscars, and this is without a doubt the best work I’ve seen from her. (To be fair, I haven’t seen Sherry Baby or Secretary.) We never get to explore Jean’s work as a journalist, instead primarily focusing on her much more important job of being a mother. Gyllenhaal appeared at a Q&A after my screening, and said she approached the character as a good mom who allowed her son the security of knowing that she’s always nearby. Adding yet another level of realism to this film, the mother/son relationship between her and 5-year-old debut actor Jack Nation was believable and sincere. Gyllenhaal captures the essence of both responsible parent and free-spirited lover with ease, and is equally effective in the quiet moments as in the few emotional outbursts her character experiences.

One of the most complex relationships depicted in this film is between Bad Blake and Tommy Sweet, the young heartthrob country superstar whom Bad mentored years prior. I’m not going to give away who plays Tommy in the film, but it’s a great surprise since this actor hasn’t appeared in any of the marketing. If you plan on seeing this movie, don’t read anything else about it before you hit the theater – other websites surely won’t be so kind about hiding the spoiler. Robert Duvall (who produced the film) appears as a friend of Blake, and does solid work with a small role (as if there were any doubt).

Crazy Heart is a small film that needs your support. It’s refreshing to see a movie crafted with such passion on every level, and to see that passion translated through the big screen. If the current reboot/sequel trend is any indication, the days of seeing small films like this in theaters are unfortunately numbered. I’d highly suggest checking out Crazy Heart if you get a chance. I’d normally say it’s not a film that demands to be seen in theaters, but if you prefer having choices that don’t involve adaptations of 80’s television shows when you visit a multiplex, then supporting a film like this is the only chance we have. Until next time…

Pierre Morel’s Taken was a surprise hit in 2008, and that film was actually a lot of fun. Watching a 56-year-old Liam Neeson kick ass in a role that was physically more suited for the likes of Jason Statham was immensely entertaining, and he brought a legitimacy to the character of “worried father” which made the film emotionally resonant as well.

So it stands to reason that I went into From Paris with Love expecting similar results: a solid action movie, some good one-liners, and – most importantly – a fun time at the movies. Unfortunately, Morel’s follow-up film has none of these qualities. I don’t like being negative, but I can’t in good conscience recommend this movie to anyone.

The story, another half-hearted concoction from the once-great Luc Besson, revolves around James Reese (Meyers), a low level CIA operative who finally gets his big chance to move up in the ranks. His new job: assist mega-agent Charlie Wax (Travolta), a leather-jacket-wearing rebel who miraculously and inexplicably stands in good graces with the bureaucracy despite his “shoot first, ask questions later” mentality. There’s a plot to blow up the U.S. embassy in Paris, but these characters are so poorly realized that we almost don’t care if it explodes or not. Wax blows through the film unscathed and undeterred, and when Reese says late in the movie,”You don’t need me,” and Wax replies,”Sure I do! Tell me we aren’t a perfect team,” we have a hard time buying this dynamic – Reese really doesn’t contribute to Wax’s plans in any significant way, and we spend half of the film’s runtime wondering what Wax would be doing if he were alone on this mission.

Perhaps that last statement gives the character too much credit. The only reason we wonder anything about Wax is because he’s the only remotely interesting character in the movie. I want to make clear, however, that “interesting character” and “compelling character” are not the same thing in this case. Travolta desperately tries to imbue Wax with a loose-cannon sensibility, but as said in Super Troopers, “desperation is a stinky cologne.” I’m a fan of larger-than-life personas and over the top acting, but it must be done in moderation before it starts to feel silly. Here, Travolta goes so over the top that Stallone’s Lincoln Hawk would be proud. While Denzel Washington was believable in an equally physical role in The Book of Eli, Travolta clearly isn’t made for this kind of action film anymore. Try as they might, the filmmakers cannot convince me that the slightly tubby Travolta can take down six armed thugs in an alleyway single handed. This very aspect was what made Taken so fun to watch, but it is From Paris with Love’s Achilles heel.

For films like these, there seems to be an unspoken contract between director and audience. The director provides spectacular action amid a loosely-conceived plot, and the audience forgives the more practical elements of the story after they are rewarded with the aforementioned action sequences. The problem is, Pierre Morel didn’t live up to his end of the bargain. Don’t get me wrong, he’s done it before – I wish this film was more like Morel’s own District B-13 – but this time, the action is lackluster and predictable. In one scene lifted straight out of Wanted, Charlie Wax runs in slow motion through a dummy factory, blindly shooting guns from both extended arms. I think one of the few rules of an action film is “don’t let the audience get bored.” I guess Morel didn’t get the memo. Sure, the occasional car blows up or person gets shot, but these things don’t matter when we don’t care about the characters.

I feel like I’m beating a dead horse here, but the dialogue is beyond terrible in this movie. Cliched one-liners can be fun depending on context, but Travolta’s foul-mouthed special agent reminded me more of someone out of Crank 2: High Voltage – he seemed to say certain things solely to offend people. Aside from unforgivable rom-com lines between Rhys Meyers and his fiance, there is a forehead-slapping callback to Travolta’s famous “royale with cheese” speech from Pulp Fiction. Since I feel the need to say something positive about this movie, there is one particular line that I was a fan of: after Wax has killed a slew of Asian drug dealers, Reese asks “how many more of them do you think there are?” Wax comically responds, “According to the last census? About a billion.”

Sadly, that cheap joke was the peak of enjoyment for me during this film. I sincerely hope Travolta learns a lesson from this and returns to making decent films again – I don’t think he’s beyond redemption, and I truly hope he can make yet another comeback after his recent downfall. (For more on that, check out this solid piece by Jen Yamato over at Cinematical.) From Paris with Love was a disaster from the title onward. If you’ve seen the trailer, you’ve already experienced a better film in your head than the one we’re actually given. I’ll be interested to see if Morel’s upcoming adaptation of Dune will feature any dinner scenes, because if Taken and From Paris with Love are any indication, if nothing else we’re in for a bloody meal.

Mel Gibson is a man made for vengeance. If you wrong him, he will mess you up. We haven’t seen him make good on this since The Patriot (1999) when he won the American revolution because some British guy killed his family. Since that time, the troubled actor has been distracted by Jesus, alcohol, and Jews. Edge of Darkness promises a return to classic Gibson, which is something to celebrate. Unfortunately, I cannot recommend it.

I really want to like Edge of Darkness. The trailer reminds me of Taken and the film is directed by Martin Cambell, who is best known for saving the James Bond franchise twice (Casino Royale, GoldenEye). And like State of Play, one of my favorite films of 2009, Edge of Darkness is based on a critically acclaimed BBC miniseries, which was also directed by Cambell. The signs for a great mystery action thriller are in place. Regrettably, Cambell and the writing team failed to modernize and translate the material to the big screen.

The plot follows Thomas Craven (Gibson), a cop and single father, estranged from his twenty-something daughter, Emma (Bojana Novakovic). She shows up at his door, very sick. As they’re the house for the emergency room, she is suddenly and horridly blown back about five feet by a shotgun, point blank (Hollywood physics). Craven is spared, and Emma dies of shock in his arms. The sequence happens crazy fast brutal and we just know it will drive Craven over the ‘edge.’ He’s gonna go Rambo, right? Well, no, not really.

He calmly investigates Emma’s death. Soon, he begins to hear her voice and daydream about her as a little girl. He’s heartbroken. I sympathize with Craven, but Cambell never solidifies the connection between him and his daughter. We see them next to each other, but never together.

After its opening moments, the film loses its way. Cambell and the two writers (William Monahan and Andrew Bovell) can’t decide what type of film they want to make. Do they want Gibson on a ruthless hunt for action, explosions, and vengeance? Perhaps a complicated political murder-mystery is a better way to go? Or maybe a drama centered around the psychological toll losing a daughter would take on a father?

Cambell and company decide to try all three. As a result, Edge of Darkness is schizophrenic. It’s a chilling I’m-seeing-dead-people personal drama one minute, a convoluted 80s Nuclear murder-mystery the next, and occasionally shoots from 0 to 100 and shocks us with an amazing, short action sequence. One such sequence was so freakishly intense that I actually came down with a headache for a moment. (Identity had a similar sequence.) If I were older with heart problems who knows what could have happened. When Cambell decides it’s time for action, get ready.

Unfortunately, the majority of screen time is spent on the hokey murder-mystery. I say hokey because it’s the kind of story a two-part MacGyver episode would run in the 80s, except Macgyver would be more fun because he finds creative solutions to every problem. He also has a killer mullet. What a guy.

It turns out Emma was targeted by the top secret, government funded research facility where she worked. This is obvious about 30 minutes in when Craven meets with the head of the facility, Jack Bennet, played by Danny Huston. Huston never got the memo that he isn’t still Col. William Stryker from X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Bennet is an arrogant ass to Craven, asking the grieving man “how does it feel?” in a cold tone. He doesn’t deny that the facility is developing weapons and doesn’t care to discuss Emma’s death. He’s probably distracted, still trying to figure out how best to infuse adamantium into Hugh Jackman’s bones.

Most everyone Craven talks to share the same qualities: they overact, are easy to read, and withhold information for no reason. It’s like they get off on being withholding (like Lucille). It’s the kind of thing that only happens in the movies. Essentially, we’re dragged to see a ton of useless characters talking about nonsense things using overly complex words until we just don’t care anymore. We’re sitting through these immense filler scenes hoping that Gibson will hit the “edge of darkness” and start kicking ass. You know, get some street justice. He rarely does. Mostly, he’s just sad.

Edge of Darkness is like a game of Clue where everyone knows who did it but has to play through the entire game anyway. The mystery is hokey and Craven’s hallucinations are overdone. I could have put up with these faults, but there was too little action to pad them.

Score: 2 out of 5

Legion had a lot going for it: a message about humanity, faith, and mercy amongst an edgy and controversial setting, really embellished special effects, and superb acting. The two biggest weaknesses the film suffers from: a convoluted story plot, and too many hacked action and horror clichés from much more polished and classic movies.

This review is hard to pull off. Since I grew up going to new movies in the theaters, I have a tendency to come away from the movie thinking that they were all masterpieces. Since this is my first review, I didn’t want to sit down and start praising the film without having time to think about it. So that’s why I settled in to gather my thoughts by watching Family Guy’s Blue Harvest and almost devouring my bag of Twizzler Pull N’ Peels to really think about the movie. Simply put, the film was a big swing, followed by an uninspired and disappointing miss.

The plot revolves around the idea that God has lost faith in mankind, and instead of a flood, he would send his angels to exterminate the human race. If you’re anything of religious, that idea might have you cringe initially, but you have to sit the whole movie through to discover that it becomes a film that tries to send a message about repentance and faith; keep in mind the principal word is “tries”. Stewart attempts to get this message through in an innovative way, of using action, horror, and fantasy elements to grab the attention of all audiences.

His background in special effects also is the only other plus in the making of this film. Angels like Michael and Gabriel are depicted as powerful beings of stoic might, have mystical and mysterious weapons that come straight out of paintings of angels from modern and renaissance periods, as well as Catholic imagery, and have wings that are fire and bullet proof. The details on these angels go so far as putting angelic language tattooed on the arms, chest and neck. All other angels are never really seen, but are shown as human possessing beings turning them into demonic wall crawling monsters allowing Stewart to manipulate their usefulness into ripping off films like The Ring, The Grudge, The Mummy, and several George A. Romero films. Not to mention the way the angels are seen in how they possess people is so much like The Matrix, I thought sentinel agents were coming after the heroes initially. The action sequences involving close combat between characters are well played, but let’s not forget the firefights. There are many gun play scenes to testosterone the film up, and they don’t do the film justice, since many of the photographed shots are just stolen from better films like The Matrix. Half way through the shell crazed sequences I kept wondering “how many bullets do they have exactly?”

Paul Bettany is the real star of this picture. His acting is amazing, and he looks fantastic on screen as well. He’s been a veteran of several films in the last decade with a resume that includes both Ron Howard films The Da Vinci Code and A Beautiful Mind. The man has a lot going for him. He is a chameleon of talent and I should expect to see him become a fan favorite in future films. His character is a former angel named Michael, better known in Catholic folklore, mythology, and tradition as the archangel who is General of God’s armies, the Prince of the Church, and a Saint to boot. The revised script by Stewart doesn’t give the character of Michael any justice, as Michael is essentially a glorified Kyle Reese knock-off with all the Terminator trimmings to boot, with Terminator being another one of the storyline’s heavy influences in terms of events. Bettany is also returning as the voice of “Jarvis” in Iron Man 2, and is also set to star in Stewart’s next film Priest, which is in post-production.

Dennis Quaid stars in the film as a poorly inspired character named Bob Hanson, The thing that makes his role forgettable is that he plays a father who initially starts out in explaining to his son Jeep (played by the redeemable Lucas Black) that when he was his age, he did things that he couldn’t explain as well. But quickly goes from being warm and reassuring to being cold, awkward, and lacking of encouragement by telling his son that he’s being stupid and making the same mistakes. Adrianne Palicki plays the non virgin Mary of this piece curiously named “Charlie”, as she doesn’t have any real growth to her character, while serving the story’s purpose of being pregnant with the second coming of Christ. The writing suggests that she wanted to do an abortion at first and really hated the thing growing inside her, that it ruined her life. But I was curious as to why it’s never explained why she decided to keep it when she shows such disinterest in the baby, as the film shows moments of her smoking cigarettes, and being incredibly selfish and pig-headed, that it makes her new interest in the baby when it’s born sudden and unfulfilling. Other characters that are more interesting are not given enough development and go through the film with unsatisfactory finishes.

Tyrese Gibson plays your typical inner-city black guy named Kyle Williams, who stops to make a phone call to a courthouse, and is demanding to speak to his son or something like that, but after a misinterpreted heroism leading to an unfortunate death fighting possessed people, the scene where he calls the courthouse might have been better off being left on the cutting room floor, since it serves no important purpose to the story. Charles S. Dutton plays a good hearted short-order cook named Percy who has a mechanical hook for a hand and although a likeable character, he is killed off halfway through without the film ever explaining why he had the hook in the first place, and it served no real purpose except to set up a frivolous joke before the first firefight against the angels. Other characters serve the purpose of playing selfish, but with enough therapy and help redeemable, representations of the human race, and the way they die easily confuses the audience in how the surprise ending justifies God’s actions in violently killing perfectly good people in horrendous and torturous ways, that serve as bold imagery, but come off unnecessary and uneasy to a movie-goer’s constitution and logical understanding.

Other critics have called the film “boring” and that it took itself “way too seriously”. These are two things I will have to disagree with. The film’s story moves at a decent pace, and the imagery keeps the audience on their toes as to what will happen next. As for taking itself “way too seriously” part, Stewart did pull off timing the moments of humor, as the piece is laced with them during moments when things are calm and quiet. The complaint other critics have issued about it being “dialogue heavy” is not completely without reason, as certain pieces of dialogue slow the film a bit, but a lot of dialogue is usually the sign of lack of content in the script. Maybe the film would have been better off without the director re-writing the draft by Peter Schink.

If you like cheesy dialogue and monster hunting, or like films like The Day After Tomorrow or Constantine, this film might become your guilty pleasure, but if you want a much better presentation of blasphemous story-telling about angels and prophecies against a horror-action background, I’d recommend renting the first three Prophecy films starring Christopher Walken.

Score: 3 out of 5

I did not expect much from The Book of Eli. I mean, Denzel Washington’s star is much dimmer than his Training Days and I’ve seen enough post-apocalyptic movies to fill a catalog of world ending scenarios. But the Hughes brothers surprised me. Eli is an ordinary take on a “war ends the world” scenario, but with extra-ordinary goals. It has more to say than your average action flick and I enjoyed it.

So it’s 40 or so years in the post-apocalyptic future. Nuclear war has left almost everyone dead and the rest hungry, thirsty, and scared. The United States is a future version of the old west with small towns, saloons, revolvers, and people fighting for water and food.

Like those in The Road, some people have even resorted to cannibalism–you can tell them by their hand ’shakes.’ Eating people gives you the shakes, it would appear. Puzzled and intrigued, I did some quick research on this and no published science studies have tested the longterm effects of eating human meat, but common causes of shaky hands are: hyperthyroidism, Parkinson’s disease, senile tremors, and Xanex withdrawal. I don’t think human meat is like Xanex, but they do say anxiety can be a cause. I can think of little to feel more anxious about than eating your fellow man. Perhaps that’s it.

Eli (Denzel Washington) is a man on a mission. He has a book he must take out west and protect, though he doesn’t quite know where or why; he’s just following the ’signs.’ In an early scene, some street ruffians try to rob him. Big mistake. All are dead on the ground in less than a minute and Eli, he barely breaks a sweat. His abilities seem almost supernatural. I certainly wouldn’t mess with him.

Carnegie (Gary Oldman) is a corrupt town leader who’s been hunting down the ‘book’ for decades. Oldman is one of my favorite villains and does not disappoint as Carnegie, whose smile thinly veils a familiar lust for power and control. Along with Eli, he is one of only a few old enough to remember the world as it was and how to read. When his biker brutes bring him copies of Oprah Magazine and The Da Vinci Code he nearly snaps at their incompetence. He’s a wise man in a dumb age.

Anyone can guess where the plot is heading, and Eli travels down that familiar bad vs good road, but with a few big surprises that I do not intend to spoil. This movie reveals what this special book of Eli’s is, yes, but it’s more about what the book represents. I have to credit screenwriter Gary Whitta for a story that has a few big “holy shit” moments in it. His writing, brought to life by the directing of the Hughes brothers, has M. Night Shamalan style twists, but doesn’t rest entirely on its ‘gotcha’ moments, like a Shyamalan film might.

The cinematography in Eli ranges from acceptable to amazing. We see many postcard moments as he walks through the ruins of the western United States, and a lot of slow motion shots of people walking down the road. The Hughes brothers are at their best during the action scenes though, which are often reminiscent of Children of Men, and that’s a good thing. One scene in particular has Carnegie shooting up a house where Eli and Solara (Mila Kunis) are hiding. Instead of the usual close-up shots of the bad guys followed by close-up shots of the good guys, the camera runs straight into the danger. The audience hops through windows and into bullet fire, even running under an exploding car to get the best angle. It’s brief, but one of the coolest shoot-offs I’ve seen.

My only big complaint is that there is more product placement in The Book of Eli than most non-post-apocalyptic films. Puma, GMC, and KFC all get their logos displayed. The best placement goes to Busch though. Somehow a lone Busch beer truck with a prestine blue and gold logo made it through the nuclear apocalypse and 40 years of rain, dirt, and grime without a single chip of paint missing. It also happens to be perfectly located in the one spot Eli stops and stares at for several minutes. Sadly though, even Star Trek had Budweiser and Nokia ads in it. If Star Trek isn’t safe, what movie is?

The Book of Eli seems to straddle the line between mindless violence and grander ideas. In the end, I enjoyed the mindless violence, the crazy plot twists, and I liked the message, which stops short of preaching. Denzel needed a role like this. I’m glad he tried something new and decided to kick some ass.

Score: 4 out of 5

For the past 3 years we’ve been talking about and anticipating the release of James Cameron’s Avatar, and by this time next week the film will finally be available for public viewing. However, last night some extremely lucky people (media folk) were invited to see the film, and the reactions have been, lets say, ‘positive’:

Empire (5 stars):

It’s been twelve years since Titanic, but the King of the World has returned with a flawed but fantastic tour de force that, taken on its merits as a film, especially in two dimensions, warrants four stars. However, if you can wrap a pair of 3D glasses round your peepers, this becomes a transcendent, full-on five-star experience that’s the closest we’ll ever come to setting foot on a strange new world. Just don’t leave it so long next time, eh, Jim?

TotalFilm (5 stars):

Game-changing – yes. Spectacular – absolutely. Occasional dodgy dialogue and dramatic imperfections – of course. But still – wait for it… – a titanic achievement.

FilmSchoolRejects (Grade A):

I can’t imagine someone walking out of a screening of this film and not being in awe. Not necessarily of the film as a whole, but of the technical achievement. James Cameron has truly delivered something that we’ve never seen before. And this achievement isn’t that Pandora looks real or that we believe the Na’vi could exist and connect with them as much as we do the human characters. His achievement is that he’s shown us a glimpse at what filmmaking could be in this century.

ScreenDaily:

The motion capture technique which Cameron pioneered with Weta Digital is extraordinary, and the expressiveness of the Na’vi, as based on full body performances by Worthington, Saldana, Weaver and others, is immensely engaging. The technique moves film leaps and bounds beyond Gollum, King Kong or anything from the Robert Zemeckis canon with the result that Avatar’s digital characters are as compelling as any humans. Most of the Pandora sections are fully animated, yet it is frankly impossible to tell exactly what is and what isn’t while watching.

ScreenRant (4 stars):

Avatar is the most visually amazing film I’ve ever seen. His boasts were valid: Nothing like this has ever been done or seen on the big screen. The incredible scope and detail is really mesmerizing – he created an entire planet with variety and detail that is unparalleled… and had to maintain it throughout a 2 1/2 hour film. It boggles the mind to think that (by my estimate) at least 80% of the film is fully CGI.

Filmstalker:

It’s epic. It is indeed the biggest film I’ve seen. The visuals, and not just some of them, but all of them, are astounding. Cameron weaves 3D and CG effortlessly throughout to build layer upon layer and give us a rich, emotionally strong and dramatic film which doesn’t lose sight of the story or the characters in amongst all that technology.

Everything else serves the story and makes it feel richer and deeper, and adds such a feeling of reality to every shot you genuinely will forget what’s CG and what’s real – and I mean that for the first time ever. Avatar is a stunning piece of work and raises the bar for cinema by such a degree I wonder if anyone will match or clear it in the coming years.

Up In The Air is easily one of the best movies released this year, even if there’s not that much year left to spawn new contenders. For a while now, when it comes to serious adult-oriented dramas, the cinema has come up lacking. It’s been a banner year at the movies with Inglorious Basterds, Up and District 9 showing us that studio-genre films can still surprise you and indies like (500) Days Of Summer, Hurt Locker or The Brothers Bloom offering up some left-of-center entertainment. Up In The Air stands alone outside of this year’s Oscar Race because it never seems like it’s gunning for a statuette. Director Jason Reitman and stars Vera Farmiga, Anna Kendrick and George Clooney have offered up something special, a story I’ll revisit from time-to-time as the years march on.

George Clooney slides into Ryan Bingham effortlessly. Bingham’s job is to fly around the United States and fire people when the managers and executives of any given company don’t want to do the job themselves. The economy being what it’s been this year-of-our-Lord, 2009, business is looking good for Bingham. He’s flying all over, racking up frequent flyer miles, trying desperately to get to a big, round number: 10,000,000 miles. Only 7 people in the world have ever reached that number. You get your name on the side of a plane and a personalized card. Ryan Bingham loves cards. He has them to get in and out of hotel rooms, check in and out of red carpet clubs, I’m fairly sure there isn’t an old-fashioned key-access door in this whole movie.

We pick up with Bingham as he’s giving a motivational speech, his side job where he preaches his “backpack” analogy, telling people in the audience that they must keep moving if they are to reach success. Part of this constant personal motion involves leaving behind personal relationships, something Ryan is very good at.

Enter Vera Farmiga’s Alex who has a similar obsession to Ryan, an obsession with status and the cards representing that status. Alex and Ryan get along well because they are both just into the sex. They plan layovers and reschedule flights to end up in the same city for a couple of hours and neither seems to be all that concerned with the other when they are apart. At least not initially.

Nothing really challenges Ryan’s worldview until Bingham’s boss (played by Jason Bateman) pairs him with Anna Kendrick’s Natalie. A young, 20-something go-getter who has proposed that Ryan’s firing business go online to web video so they won’t have to send agents on month-long air trips around the US. Needless to say, Bingham’s not for this idea and his attempt to stop it puts him in the uncomfortable position of teaching Natalie the ropes in the field even when the best case scenario is that she will make Ryan obsolete.

Up in the Air is a three character film, at the most. Clooney gives another great performance as Ryan Bingham, making him lovable in an Ocean’s 11 kind of way even though the man’s attempts at changing himself for the better aren’t always motivated by the right things.

Clooney aside, this movie belongs to the two supporting actresses who will be duking it out amongst themselves for noms in a few weeks. Anna Kendrick will be making a name for herself with this performance, coming out from the shadow of her Twilight casting. Vera Farmiga might have my favorite female character committed to film thus far this year, and I spent most of the movie getting the interpretation of her completely wrong.

Outside of three fine performances holding Up In The Air together, Jason Reitman might have stumbled across the first movie that provides an accurate cultural snapshot of the recession. I don’t think the filmmaker was aware that he was doing it, at least interviews I have read ad conducted with him don’t mention it, but the isolation that each of these three characters feel and how they deal with it rings true to me. Granted, Bingham and his girls are isolated from the rest of the world by a busy work schedule and the organized chaos of air flight, but they are also socially isolated when they are on the ground, using electronic devices to communicate. Ryan texts Alex, Natalie calls her boyfriend on her cell, people are fired via webcam, technology is in this story providing false connections, but this theme isn’t highlighted. It’s just there.

That combined with the particulars of national airports that we’ve all been inside and seen designed, stocked, crowded, then inconvenienced by post 9-11 security makes a world that is relatable to most people living in the modern condition during this economic downturn. You never get the feeling that there are a lot of functional groups of people in this movie, we see shining moments of hope at the wedding of a Bingham sister and large groups of people at self-help seminars, but everyone in this film starts their screen time isolated, confused and alone.

And – surprisingly – some end the film that way.

This is Jason Reitman’s third film after Thank You For Smoking and Juno, and while I can’t say Up In The Air is the best film I saw all year, I can say that Jason Reitman has made three solidly “good” movies. The man isn’t the second coming, but he makes complete films that seem like a unified presentation from how it’s shot and scored to how it’s written and performed.

I don’t know when Up In The Air is released near you (perhaps check the official site?), but I highly recommend you see it. I know it will have a place in my home video library in the future, in case I ever want to remember how confusing it felt to be living at the tail end of the first decade of the 21st Century.

The Road by Cormac McCarthy is about a father, never named, who is heading south with his son (The Boy) in a post-apocalyptic world where our biosphere has died, no animals or wildlife survive and the few humans still on the planet battle starvation and packs of roving cannibals. With the exception of a brief encounter with a squid, the book is a long, eloquently-written fable about every father in the world trying to raise his son through these times of doubt and uncertainty. The Man is constantly thinking of using one of his last bullets on The Boy, should he have to, much like each father could potentially abandon his son to the real world while their ward is under-prepared.

If the book was a moving experience that compared raising a child to the apocalypse, the movie concerned itself with showing us what raising a child in the apocalypse would look like. Because the novel this film was based on is so entrenched in using text as a means to deliver the story and theme, the movie feels like a parallel experience, where, by observing these characters, director John Hillcoat spends an hour establishing things the book had down in fifty pages. Interestingly, what we, the audience, have gotten out of this are two distinct experiences dealing with the same subject matter. The book is better, but the movie isn’t just reiterating the purpose of the book.

Make any sense?

The Road, the film, is made up of bleak landscapes and a score by Nick Cave that alternates between making itself known and hiding in the background when it should be taking the thematic reins. The visual aspect of The Road, the stark reality of seeing skinny naked-Viggo-Mortenson-butt, is its greatest strength. Power lines pepper the horizon like crucifixes, steam liners burn while beached on highways, abandoned suburbs…well, damn, they’re always creepy.

Viggo Mortenson does a great job, as always, as The Man, even though his main objective in the film is just to stay alive and keep The Boy safe. There isn’t a great deal on screen for Mortenson to work with. His Man is harsh, but is also well aware that his child was born after the unseen apocalypse and thus doesn’t know about things like manners, smoking or alcohol. Hillcoat and Mortenson have a secret pact throughout the film, and that pact is that, up until The Boy argues back for the first time towards the climax, The Road is from the perspective of The Man. When we see flashbacks of The Woman (Charlize Theron is a strong but brief performance), we always hear the conversation, we see what The Man sees. We only get one scene of “romance” between The Man and the long-dead Woman, and that’s in a single-shot-flashback that only concerns itself with healthy-looking hands learning to play the piano.

The Boy, played by Australian actor Kodi Smit-McPhee, matches Mortenson beat-for-beat in an impressive performance by a child actor. Considering The Boy in the book was frequently the physical cipher for emotional and philosophical discussion, Smit-McPhee manages to bring his wide-eyed reactions shots to new levels of emotion, as long as you remind yourself at the beginning of the film that this kid has never seen anything you and I would describe as “the normal world.” In one scene, when Mortenson’s Man is dangerously close to offing his Boy rather than turn him over to cannibal-rapists, The Boy responds to the cocking of the pistol’s hammer with “When will I see you again?” and the tension of the moment gives way to the realization that death means nothing to a child being raised amongst the walking inhabitants of hell.

Appearances by other characters are sparse, but – like all fables – there are a few along The Road to provide context and dialogue. Robert Duvall’s Old Man serves the same purpose as every blind, old man in fables throughout history and The Wire’s Michael K. Williams shows up as The Thief, the character that provides the tipping point for the divide between The Man and The Boy.

All and all, The Road will provide you with a bleak experience you won’t necessarily mind having as long as you follow your screening with a solid meal and a good night’s sleep under a blanket. The sad thing is that the book never left my mind for a good week after I finished it, and even friends who have not read the book seem to be okay with the movie the next day. The book is one experience and the movie is another, but instead of offering high praise, like “each is the other’s equal,” I can’t help but think that I’ll face the apocalypse of fatherhood but the desolate landscape of The Road is as distant to me as most science fiction.