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DrChocolate: DVD Capsule Reviews

DrChocolate — Tue, 24 Aug 2010 19:23:34 +0000

I haven’t been to the theaters in what feels like forever. However, I have seen quite a few movies on the DVD machine lately. Some of these may have slipped by you unnoticed, or left you on the fence regarding whether they were worthwhile. Allow me to help.

An Education

If you haven’t rented this you need too. It’s whip smart, hilarious and touching. The incomparable Nick Hornby has written the smartest script I’ve seen on screen in ages and Carey Mulligan absolutely shines. A true cinematic gem. Rent. Now.

Fantastic Mr. Fox

Never been the biggest fan of Wes Anderson’s self-referential irony. His films always seem so self-satisfied. Working from a Roald Dahl book always helps, but I found this to be immensely entertaining. I laughed heartily from beginning to end. Visually delightful with superb voice work. I was thoroughly charmed by this film. Enormously recommended.

Green Zone

Matt Damon and Paul Greengrass team up again for the action and it’s not as Bourne as you’d think. Exciting and tense, it’s better than I expected based on the buzz about the film. It’s dogmatic in its simplistic take on Middle Eastern politics and the outcome is a little anti-climatic, but it’s still a very solid action flick worth a rental.

Edge of Darkness

Mel may be insane, but I’ve always liked his work, both behind and in front of the camera. This isn’t his best thought. He’s good in the prototypical “Mel as a wronged man on a mission of violent retribution” role but the movie acts as if it has big secrets to spill but every reveal and twist can be seen from five miles out. Mediocre, revenge flick with solid direction at best. Danny Huston and Ray Winstone (each with their trademark imposing physicality’s) are wasted here too.

Hot Tub Time Machine

Meh. Hilarious first 30 minutes then it just runs out of bubbles (pardon the pun). The characters begin to grate and the 80’s references begin to feel shoe-horned in. Unnecessarily crude too. There is a fabulous bit of stunt casting, paired with a hysterical running joke, involving Cripsin “George Mcfly” Clover. It’s almost worth it for the Glover scenes but just watch The Hangover again to see this type of story done much better.

The Wolfman

I’m a sucker for old timey goth-monster-horror flicks but the plodding start had me reaching for the off switch. Be patient though. The film soon opens up and is actually quite a bit of fun (the campy climatic fight is a treat) and amusingly gory. The real reason to watch this is the art direction though; it has a superb smoky-velvety late 1800’s London gothic atmosphere, which suits Emily Blunt splendidly. I want to watch it again, sounded turned down, with a mix of Type O Negative, Pornography-era Cure, and Paradise Lost playing in the background. Recommended if you can get through the first 30 minutes or so. Cool end title sequence to boot.

50 Dead Men Walking

I promised a full-length on this previously, but let this suffice: It’s a slick (in the best way possible) action thriller involving The Troubles. The British Intelligence recruits a nicely unglamorous Jim Sturgess to do dangerous double agent duty inside the IRA; a strangely be-wigged Ben Kingsley is his handler. Based on a true story it’s gripping and entertaining. A nice companion piece to Hunger because it obviously sympathizes with the British and shows some of the harsher realities of life inside the IRA. Sturgess and Kingsley’s development of a father-son like bond sounds a completely wrong note however. It’s still very recommended.

The Twilight Saga: Eclipse

I know. I know. I know. What do you care, you already know if you’re going see this or not, right? Anyway, it’s not any better than New Moon was, but it’s nice that they finally got a director who can do a solid action scene. Some cool fights. Repetitive plot conflicts are seriously tedious. Apparently the beloved Jacob (Taylor Lautner) is a manipulative stalker who should be red flagged as a potential date rape perp. Bryce Dallas Howard falls flat on her face, big miscast. Kristen Stewart is getting better but the real star of this series is the effortless Billy Burke as her dad. Not terrible but not …oh whatever.

Review: The Road by DrChocolate

DrChocolate — Thu, 27 May 2010 17:34:10 +0000

As Luke said in the previous This Week in Movies, “this is storytelling at it’s finest.” I wholeheartedly agree. To frame my review of this superb film I’ll give you some insight into me – I’m a father. I have two sons. I love them more than it is possible to describe. When I read the book we were still waiting for our second to be born – so I was a father of one son, like the main character. Undoubtedly this has colored my opinion of the movie and the book. Due to this, and without any qualms, I freely admit that I sobbed my way through the book, and now the movie. It was impossible for me to not embed myself, and my sons, into this story; impossible to not see my son’s face in the face of The Boy and to ponder what I would do if I were The Man. In that way, this movie is devastating, it’s uplifting, it is hopeful, haunting, bleak, and beautiful.

For those not in the know, “The Road” follows an unnamed father and son traveling across a perilous US that has been blackened and destroyed by an unspecified disaster. The road is fraught with nightmare encounters with roving, violent gangs, unscrupulous thieves, cannibals and every other horror imaginable. As humanity and morality disintegrates around them the man tries to instill and keep compassion and decency alive in the boy, they strive to carry they fire.

Viggo Mortensen and newcomer Kodi Smit-McPhee are inspired as the Man and Boy. Their father-son relationship is tender and believable. Mortensen, with his distinctive weary intellectualism, is superb as a father desperate to keep protect his son from evil. The scene where Mortensen instructs his son on how to properly commit suicide with a pistol (in order to avoid fates worse than death) is particularly crushing. In turn Smit-McPhee is excellent as the story’s embodiment of innocence and charity, of the flame that needs to be protected. In truth some of the more haunting and nightmarish scenes I’ve ever seen are in this movie – from the house with the cellar, to the thief on the beach, to the flashbacks with the Man and his wife (an immensely effective Charlize Theron). However, the soul of the film is that one can remain “good” in the face of such evil and inhumanity, and it is huge. It is encompassing, and though it is nestled in one of the more frightening celluloid landscapes I’ve experienced, it is inspirational and powerful and alive.

Director John Hillcoat (who’s feature debut was the disturbingly violent but outstanding Australian western The Proposition), with his stars, and crew, has crafted what, to me, amounts to a masterpiece. Granted he was blessed with the best piece of fiction I’ve read in at least a decade, maybe ever; but he still was able to turn Cormac McCarthy’s sparse, aptly vague prose into a visually stunning, emotionally rending, inspiring film. There are additional bonus points to be handed out to an evocative score by legendary musician Nick Cave (who penned the script for The Proposition) and to a stable of brilliant, smaller performances including an almost unrecognizable Robert Duvall and Michael Williams as a wretchedly desperate thief. The Road is a very difficult watch, that is certain, but I will recommend it to everyone – without hesitation for, ultimately, it is one of the most beautiful movies I have seen about hope, humanity, and love. Read this book. Watch this film.

(Complete Side Rant Alert: I still can’t comprehend how the Weinstein brothers allowed this movie to be ignored and overlooked. The book was a NY Times #1 bestseller. It was a part of the Oprah Book Club. It won a freaking Pulitzer. Millions of people read it and instead of a wide release with a heavy awards season push (which I’m sure would have garnered it a few important nods) they dumped it into a few dozen theaters and let it run for like 4 weeks and then pulled it. What is the thought process behind this idiocy? Who did that help? It’s a superb movie based on a popular, well-regarded novel and it was completely abandoned by it’s parent company. Meanwhile Old Dogs debuts the same weekend on 3400+ screens. Bah.)

Review: Robin Hood by DrChocolate

DrChocolate — Tue, 25 May 2010 22:45:09 +0000

Hollywood sure has a jonesing for origin stories these days. This isn’t your typical Robin Hood movie of merry thievery and peril at the hands of the Sheriff of Nottingham. You don’t even see Robin holed up in Nottingham Forest with his band of righteous robbers until right before the credits roll. No Errol Flynn here, Ridley Scott’s “Robin Hood” is a mix of origin story, political chicanery, and some deft battle sequences.

Scott and his screenwriters play fast and loose with British history, and by extension French history. However, if Tarantino and his fabulous “Inglourious Basterds” can be praised to the skies even as it completely redraws the facts to the most important years of the 20th then surely this can be forgiven as well (that is not to say that this is nearly as good as IB). Fairly convoluted plot made short: disenchanted with political leaders after a decade of foolish decisions in the Crusades, peasant archer in King Richards army Robin Longstride (Russell Crowe) serendipitously finds his chance to leave the army and return home. That chance leads him and his core of merry men to become ensnared in medieval identity theft, political intrigue and evil-French machinations. Action and romance ensues.

Crowe is effective as Robin; and he and a characteristically superb Cate Blanchett have a believable, mature romantic chemistry. Crowe does dial back his typical imposing physicality a little and plays Robin with a bit more mirth than I was used too in a Crowe role. (Which doesn’t mean that he doesn’t exhibit his signature reluctant-hero-taking-up-the-noble-cause mannerisms.) However good these Oscar winners may be, the movie is completely stolen by an intellectually feral Mark Strong. As a devious member of King John’s court, Strong prowls the movie with a magnetic menace. Each time the movie deviated from him I wondered what his character was doing when we weren’t seeing him.

Overall, I enjoyed this movie far more that I thought I would. It does drag in parts (especially the overtly political gobblydegook about free states or some such preaching). But my main quibble comes with the climactic battle sequence, minor plot spoilers ahead, but if you’ve seen trailers I’m not blowing anything you haven’t seen already. The last battle takes place on a beach while the French invade by sea. For some reason Scott and company decided to stage a medieval D-Day. I was mildly uncomfortable with the fact that the invasion is filmed like the opening of “Saving Private Ryan.” It’s so similar it completely displaced me from the film. From underwater up shot of soldiers drowning in the water to the disembarking soldiers getting mowed down as they spill over the sides of their vessels. It just felt cheap and designed to illicit emotion the scene didn’t earn. Secondly, I’m sick of the incessant need to have the love interest show up in battle, disguised by a helmet, which she then removes, and SHOCKER it’s Marion! WHA-WHAT woman can fight too? Oh that Marion, she’s so empowered. Give it a rest already. I’m all for female empowerment, but the need to shoehorn an enlightened ’90′s woman into the 12th century is beginning to get tiring. Everyone should have hung this trick up after Pete Jackson mastered it in The Return of the King.

Anyway, pet peeves aside, it’s a fresher, rejiggered take on a familiar legend, the Ridley Scott powered battle scenes are exciting, there’s some fun stuff with the Merry Men (Keamy from Lost is Little John and, for once, is actually likable *sniff*Lost. I miss you already*sniff*), the leads are good, and the required Robin Hood arrow POV shots are pretty thrilling too. Recommended.

Review: Hunger by DrChocolate

DrChocolate — Wed, 28 Apr 2010 18:09:07 +0000

“Hunger” is vivid and visual. It is also gut wrenching, brutal and unrelenting. It flows between scenes of stunning beauty and stunning violence. It’s quiet and pensive and vicious and visceral. It is based on the very real events surrounding imprisoned Irish Republican Army foot soldiers. First time filmmaker, and artist, Steve McQueen has crafted a real gem. But it is definitely not for everyone, or every stomach. When people say “art film,” I now tend to think the term was coined for “Hunger.” It is vividly beautiful in its harrowing depiction of the strength of the souls resolve and depths of human cruelty. It is also very easy to see how some will find the film indulgent, slow, and in danger of caving under it’s own preponderance.

“Hunger” takes place within the notorious confines of Maze Prison during The Troubles (the longest sustained period of wide spread violence between Ireland and England, generally lasting from the late 1960’s to the Belfast Agreement in 1998, thousands were killed on both sides.) The film starts in the midst of the IRA inmates Blanket Protest. (Here comes the history, if you want to skip this part be my guest. Known IRA members were held as common criminals and not as political prisoners. The difference being that a political prisoner is afforded many more rights and privileges than a criminal including the wearing of their own clothes, no prison work, more visits, etc. In protest of being seen as common criminals the incarcerated refused to wear prison clothes, going naked or with blankets wrapped around them, refused to shower and shave, etc. It escalated to where the guards refused to change out bathroom buckets, all furniture but mattresses were removed, beatings increased. In turn, the prisoners retaliated by smearing their excrement on the walls, never leaving there cells unless under considerable force, dumping their urine under the doors, and so forth. Each side unrelenting in their resolve and brutality.)

The plot, such as it is, is presented like a Christian triptych, a three-panel story with each panel loosely hinged to the next. The first panel concerns a new prisoner, Raymond, and his joining the Blanket Protest. Much of this first section is very nearly a silent film, almost reverential; McQueen lets the images alone speak loudly and effectively. Even the smearing of feces on a wall is approached as a solemn, dignified act. The reverence is only, shockingly, broken with viscous beatings followed by haircuts and hose showers and some particular invasive searches. Interspersed with the protest are glimpses of the life of one of Maze’s guards and the toll the job takes on his life. The second panel is the tour de force section of this film; it’s the power, pop, and heart of the film. (Additionally, for film geeks, it contains the longest, single sustained shot in celluloid history at over 17 minutes, a new roll of film had to be specially made for the shot.) In the scene, de facto prison leader Bobby Sands (Michael Fassbender in a magnetic performance) and a worldly Catholic priest (Liam Cunnigham) argue the merits of a hunger strike. It is absolutely stunning. It is riveting. Fassbender and Cunningham are pitch perfect and magnetic. Really, this scene is something to behold; it is something special, I was enraptured. The outcome of the debate solidifies Sands resolve to begin staggered hunger strikes, to up the protest, he being the first to begin. The third panel returns to the silent, respectful slant of the first. Sands begins to refuse food and eventually wastes away in protest (Fassbender is again riveting and apparently lost over 40 pounds to appear starved). Watching Sands waste away into skeletal bed rest, having to be carried to the toilet and pitied by his attending physician is gut wrenching; the self-inflicted violence effectively mirroring the administered violence of the first panel. “Hunger’s” third panel nails down the films gut-punch, it is emotionally draining.

Throughout the film however, there was a quiet gnawing at the back of my head that soon began to really pound away. That pounding boils down to this: It’s obvious that McQueen respects these prisoners and their will power. But it doesn’t stop there, McQueen seems to be taking these protesting prisoners and their starving leaders down the path of beatification and on towards sanctification without acknowledging that, frankly, these men are violent at best, terrorists at worst. It is easy to romanticize the IRA and it’s struggle. The scrappy Irish freedom fighters with their lilting voices and shocks of red hair fighting tooth and nail against the big bad machine of militarized, late-millennial Britain. Their sustained, armed struggle for unification over the oppression of an occupying superpower is easy to view through shamrock-tinted glasses. I know. I’ve studied the history and at times have over simplified their case; I’ve “supported” them and respected them and, to a degree, still do. But, in truth, the IRA is a violent and often brutish entity and is guilty of quite a few shocking, and despicable, acts. The Troubles, particularly at the time this movie takes place, were such a boiling mess of tit-for-tat aggression and dirty tactics that both sides are equally to blame for the escalating horrors. There is no acknowledgment of this in the film however. McQueen, who surprisingly is a native born Englishman, and helped write the screenplay, seemingly lays all fault, mistakenly, at the feet of Thatcher’s England. He would have the unfamiliar believing that all the prisoners were falsely accused guardian angels of the Emerald Isle. His blind acquittal of these men is unnerving. (If you’re interested, here’s a pointed British review of the film that more succinctly sums up, with history!, what stuck in my craw about the pardoning manner of this film).

I must admit though that, despite my unease with the historical whitewashing, I was thoroughly moved and marginally devastated by this film. Regardless of politics and your view of Irish Republicanism and Unification if you can stomach the disturbing elements of this film it is well worth the endeavor. It is gorgeously made and visually stunning – each shot could be freeze framed and reproduced as art worthy of a prominent wall hanging. The idea of the body being the last weapon of protest is resonant. The performances, especially the star-making turn by Fassbender, are moving. Its overall impact is powerful and long lasting. It may take some patience, but consider “Hunger” highly, highly recommend.

(Stay tuned, too, this is a two part-er review of new-ish films now on DVD, that flew under the radar and into few theaters, that both deal with The Troubles. The second of this utterly dichotomous pair is “50 Dead Men Walking,” which review will come along shortly. You’re riveted, I know.)

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Review: Date Night by DrChocolate

DrChocolate — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 20:00:49 +0000

Why has it taken this long for Tina Fey and Steve Carrell to get together? Unfortunately, why couldn’t it have been in a better project. They’re two of the funnier, smarter comics working in entertainment today and I don’t quite understand why they agreed to finally combine forces in such a broad, middling comedy as this one.

These two comedians have become stars by being part of whip smart, incisive, and often brilliant, TV shows and movies. (Although I really believe that “The Office” has been in a slow, truly disappointing tailspin for about a season and a half now, maybe longer.) I dearly wanted this movie to be as sharp and rapid fire as their previous material, they have set such a high bar (I’m ignoring “Evan Almighty”); instead it’s broad and inconsistent. To be fair, I laughed frequently and hard at certain points, but it was mostly when it felt like Tina and Steve were riffing and going off script. Of particular note are some loopy sequences at a hipper-than-thou restaurant and when a perpetually shirtless Mark Wahlberg is with them. But between the slapstick action scenes (including cops who shoot guns worse than an ‘80’s GI Joe cartoon) and goofy encounters, it sags and there’s some pretty serious discussion of stagnant marriages and love that seems shoe-horned in from another movie to give the whole thing some “heart.” There are a number of empty cameos and unnecessary bit parts too, that are wasted on a list of respectable actors like Mark Ruffalo, Ray Liotta, lead player in where-have-I-seen-him-before-games William Fichtner; and Taraji Henson; not too mention some funny comics like Kristen Wiig and Bill Burr in unfunny parts. However, James Franco, Mila Kunis, and Wahlberg do generate some genuine laughs.

Additionally the story of needing to “romantically jump-start a stalled, but good marriage, with action shenanigans” feels stale and familiar. Again, I was hoping, maybe dreaming, that the pairing of Fey and Carrell could bring somtehing fresh to this sub-sub-genre. It starts of promising enough but by the time the whole case of mistaken-identity-and-crooks is sorted out I had a “who did what to what know?” moment followed quickly by an “awwh, who cares anyway” moment. Without the leads considerable talents and charm the whole movie would probably have sunk into “Wild Hogs” territory. It’s easy to see these same roles being done, too much less success but much louder results, by some pairing of Kevin James and Sarah Jessica Paker or Ashton Kutcher and whatever vapid blond is hot at the moment. Really, though, what was I expecting from the director of such comedic gems as “Night at the Museum” and “The Pink Panther” remake.

I’m not going to flat out recommend this because it’s just too disappointing, maybe a matinee to see Fey and Carrell together, but more like a Red Box weekend in the pj’s; or if you thought “Old Dogs” was HI-sterical. It’s like cotton candy, looks pretty and has a flash of fizzy, sugary fun but once consumed it dissolves away and leaves you still hungry. Here’s to hoping Tina and Steve get together again, and soon, in a vehicle much better suited to their respective talents.

Review: Shutter Island by DrChocolate

DrChocolate — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 18:14:46 +0000

In 1954 a woman who drowned her three children is missing. She’s escaped from her cell in a maximum-security prison for the criminally and violently insane. Ashcliffe Prison is situated on an imposing island in the outer reaches of Boston harbor. Two federal marshals are called in to search the island and interrogate the staff about the woman’s disappearance. And a hurricane is approaching. Obviously, this being a Scorcese movie based on a Dennis Lehane novel (writer of Mystic River and Gone Baby Gone), dangerous, twisty shenanigans ensue.

I had read the book previous to seeing this film and will admit that my knowledge of the book colors my review of the film. Not to say that it is not true to the book or divergent from it (it’s actually a very faithful adaptation), just that in a story such as this, knowledge of the events previous to viewing them changes ones perception. I’d love to know what someone who hadn’t read the novel thought of the film.

Leo DiCaprio has his detractors, (chiefly, the namesake of this site) some of which criticism is valid, some of which I don’t understand. Regardless, as Teddy Daniels, the senior marshal called to deal with the disappearance, DiCaprio gives a stellar performance, quite possibly his best to date. Nightmarish WWII memories and a dead wife (an excellent Michelle Williams – she needs to be in more movies) haunt Daniels as he investigates the disappearance and he is deeply troubled by what appears to be an ever-expanding web of collusion and secrecy. The guards are on edge, the patients are rehearsed and there are rumors of Mengele-like experimental procedures being performed on the patients. The weight of which is masterfully relayed in DiCaprio’s shifty eyes and hitching mannerisms.

Mark Ruffalo (his new partner – Chuck Aule) and DiCaprio have an easy, compelling chemistry (and fit the characters book-wise too) playing well off each others supicions and skepticisms. As the rabbit hole of Ashcliffe deepens and more and more secrets and scares and dangers ensue Scorcese suitably ramps up the gothic visuals, of particular note is the atmospheric, doom-laden lighting and camera work. Every frame is filled with dread and paranoia that only increases as the film progresses. Daniels flashback riddled nightmares are particularly unnerving in their abstracted reality. And if you’ve ever wanted to know what a migraine felt like – wait until Teddy experiences his in the film, it’s uncomfortably like having one without all the pain involved.

There are scene-stealing turns around ever corner too, by a veritable who’s who list of of superb character actors – Max Von Sydow and the ever-reliable Patricia Clarkson, as well as a chilling monologue by the always creepy Ted Levine (aka – Buffalo Bill…gah). Jack Earley Haley also shows up and executes a perfect turn as a particularly disturbed patient.

This bendy psych-thriller is well worth your time and money and I’d be surprised if it doesn’t stick to your bones and last with you into the night. Recommended. So too is the book – just try putting that down. I don’t know which you should do first – but they’re both worth the effort.

Review: Moon by DrChocolate

DrChocolate — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 05:26:40 +0000

In the not too distant future, earth’s primary energy source, helium-3, is mined from the surface of the moon by the faceless Lunar Industries. It’s a one-man job to live on the moon and watch over the equipment and the operation. Currently, Sam Bell (Sam Rockwell) is on the tail end of his 3-year stint and is itching to go home to his wife and daughter. (There’s a mild spoiler ahead, but its not a guarded Sixth Sense-style spoiler, it’s the impetus to the rest of the story but feel free to stop now.) That is until the situation goes awry and he fids himself standing face-to-face with himself. Is he a clone, is he crazy, has his isolation turned him into a lunar Jack Torrance? What’s going on isn’t really that much of a mystery but the stroy still remains intriguing.

First time director Duncan Jones (who happens to be David Bowie’s kid – nope, no obvious Ziggy Stardust jokes here) works a rather familiar story (his own) into a interesting space fable that feels more 1970’s than 2000’s and that’s actually, in my opinion, really refreshing.

However, Moon is insulated. Insulated from outside elements like the lunar station where the entirety of the movie takes place. It feels distant and aloof; I was constantly reminded of the glass through which I was watching the movie. The fourth wall was painfully solid. I really wanted in, but felt like I wasn’t allowed. I was entertained and fascinated by it but never felt a part of the events. I wanted to be moved, wished to be moved, by what should have been profound, affecting events but instead I found myself curiously distant and apart.

Rockwell is impeccable and further cements himself into that cadre of underrated, underappreciated actors populated by the likes of Mark Ruffalo, Stanley Tucci and Laura Linney. Watching him debate, sympathize, and reason with himself is remarkable, so much so that I forgot it was actually one actor rather than two. Kevin Spacey’s mannered, sly voicing of onboard computer GERTY – an obvious, wry homage to HAL – is a welcome, almost amusing balance to Rockwell’s performance.

For a low-budget film, reportedly only $5 million, the film has a gritty industrial look that trumps much of what a Hollywood future looks like. The geometric station and the hulking mining trucks and diggers are mechanically and aesthetically functional rather than the now favored spacey clean and smooth. There’s no flair or wit in the designs, it all seems realistic, like the objects design only furthers the function. I found this throwback approach rather refreshing in the face of so much futurized, ipod-like gloss that populates much of the current sci-fi scene.

The film also gets bonus points for a beautiful, often haunting, piano based score that could stand alone as a nice musical piece without the need of accompanying visuals and for also having one of my favorite movie posters in a while.

It’s not wildly original, or groundbreaking and, as stated, is unfortunately emotionally distant but it’s definitely worth a viewing. Rockwell’s turn is something to see, the grimy atmosphere is arresting, and I have a feeling that Jones’ is soon going to be a rather well known name – so you can then reasonably say in your best snob accent, “I liked him before you.” Recommended but expect to remain detached.

Review: New Moon by DrChocolate

DrChocolate — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 02:15:48 +0000

DrChocolate sees the movies I can’t afford to see in theaters (apparently including movies I’d rather gouge my eyes out than sit through) so this site can stay current.

Time to get crucified. Any sort of credibility I may have built up with those of you who don’t know me and read Luke’s site and my hyperbole ridden reviews is probably about to dry up. My wife is a fan of the Twilight series, and because I make her sit through such manly fare as Blackhawk Down and because she indulges my penchant for B-movies I have agreed to see the Twilight films with her. Really, New Moon isn’t nearly as bad as you think it would be and it’s miles better than Twilight, which had some fun style but was ultimately clunky and hollow. Additionally, I’m going with a two pronged approach for this review: one addressing the movie itself; second, I’m going to frame that review with my thoughts on the Twilight phenom/backlash itself.

First, the movie: again, it’s not as bad as most of you’d probably imagine. It’s actually entertaining. However, it is by no means a great movie either – just an entertaining one. The trio of actors is functional enough, with the strangely gorgeous Kristen Stewart being the best, despite the frustrating vacillation of her character. All three of the leads are attractive, but in an odd way, each with their own appealing imperfections (Pattinson’s shovel face, Lautner’s caveman brow, Stewart’s general awkwardness) – which to me was smart casting. Their non-traditional beauty makes them interesting and out of the CW-casting-call ordinary – it serves them well during the thin times in the movie. They’re always watch-able and Stewart has good chemistry with both love interests making the love triangle a little more intriguing. Michael Sheen (who’s never less than perfect) steals the movie as he delightfully chomps his way through his scenes as the head of an aristocratic vampire family; Dakota Fanning is pretty game as a sadistic vamp too. With its fair share of contrivances and conveniences the plot is thin (I haven’t read the books) but apparently this is the set-up book in the series, which always means a thinner plot. Overall, it’s not great, it’s entertaining, and I’ve seen far worse movies far more deserving of the derision and hatred that is piled, unremittingly, upon this franchise. That leads me to my next point.

In all honesty, I find the abject hatred of this franchise rather unfortunate. Why? Because I think the hate is almost solely because of the fan base. Teen girls and moms. There’s a thinly veiled misogyny in the contempt for this series. Because it is adored and loved by teen girls and moms it must be awful. Right? Unfortunately, that’s sort of endemic in our critical society. Anything beloved by girls is trite and not of value (look at the user ratings breakdown on imdb.com – I’m positive a large portion of the 14,000+ voters who rated it a 1 did not, in fact, see the film). Think about if for a second. Titanic suffered a similar, vitriolic backlash. While a better movie than New Moon, there was a massive backlash against it once teen girls embraced its romance. Leo Dicaprio suffered the same fate. Guys in my age group, late-20s to early-30s, despised him at the time, almost solely because girls loved him and his Jack Dawson character. Now, not so much; he’s actually embraced by males my age. Why? He’s now made manly movies like Blood Diamond and The Departed and dates supermodels. He’s not in “girly” flicks anymore. New Moon suffers a similar sexist fate. I’m not a card carrying member of NOW and I’m not saying it shouldn’t be viewed critically, where we still might find it very lacking, but rather it shouldn’t be outright dismissed because of its target demographic and fan base. Boy-driven entertainment hasn’t proven to be any better lately than this franchise. The Transformers series is equally vapid and convenient, maybe more so. It is built around simplistic, hackneyed stories and is stuffed with things to make pubescent boys and college age slackers squeal, not the least of which is the ridiculous Megan Fox. They are the boy equivalent of Twilight yet receive almost none of the ire. I admit that the obsession with Twilight is disconcerting and may speak to some larger societal concern, but obsession again is not reason to disregard something. Have you seen ComiCon and cos players lately? If we treated those unhealthy obsessions they way we do a Twilighters fixation we’d have to dismiss Star Wars, LOST, Halo, comic movies and any number of other manias ranging from the good to the awful. If I where to dismiss female-friendly fare out of hand I would miss out on a few things I really have a fondness for. The smart, touching and funny Love Actually. The effervescent pop of the Spice Girls (honestly, reevaluate this girl power act and you’ll find some irresistible pop hooks and savvy song construction). So You Think You Can Dance, while manufactured and manipulative, with its subtext of dance education has help reinvigorate a discipline that has previously suffered a cultural dearth in this country. I just don’t think you can invalidate entertainment solely on judging the fan base; regardless of whether it is done consciously or not.

In closing, is there more worthwhile entertainment out there than the Twilight series? Yes, of course. Is there worse than this? Plenty (The Christmas Carol, the remakes of The Wicker Man and Friday the 13th). Should you see it? I don’t know, I’m afraid many of you have already made up your minds and my review and gender treatise won’t do anything to sway your opinions. Overall, it’s a reasonably enjoyable, if tame and simplistic, movie with some fun moments and performances, but it’s not deserving of the effusive praise nor the raging revulsion heaped upon it’s mild shoulders.

Review: The Hurt Locker by DrChocolate

DrChocolate — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 23:04:47 +0000

DrChocolate sees the movies I can’t afford to see in theaters and reviews them, so this site can stay more up-to-date.

Like a bomb itself, The Hurt Locker arrives innocuously enough, but quickly reveals itself as tightly packaged bit of celluloid that seems primed to explode at the slightest touch. It is easily the most exciting movie of the year; and one of the tensest movies I’ve come across. Locker’s savvy white-knuckle vigor is derived from its raw, nervy performances and jittery construction. In my limited opinion it’s in a dead heat with Where the Wild Things Are for movie of the year.

The set-up is simple: A three-man EOD (Explosive Ordinance Disposal) team is stationed in Iraq in 2004. They defuse bombs. The End. New team leader SSgt. James (Jeremy Renner) is an apparent adrenaline junkie who loves putting himself in harms way. Teammate Sgt. Sanborn (Anthony Mackie) is highly suspicious of his apparent recklessness and James makes the already skittish Spc. Eldrigde (Brian Geraghty) even more unnerved. This tense team dynamic is only complicated by their fast approaching discharge date. Sanborn and Eldridge want to go home in one piece and to them James’ unbuckled antics seriously hamper that special goal.

Don’t be turned off by the idea that this is an “Iraq War Movie.” All the didactic moralizing and heavy handed sermonizing from Hollywood about naughty US politics and other such drivel is thankfully absent. If you see any politics, they are solely the ones you bring with you. Refreshingly, it is solely concerned with the three team members and their experiences. In turn the trio of actors are excellent; Renner in particular. In a brilliantly understated performance Renner lets all his conflict boil in his eyes and posture but it rarely surfaces in actions or words; but when it does it is to lasting effect. This calm, cocksure star making turn is arresting and should receive plenty of justified attention come awards season. Anthony Mackie, who has always been wonderfully reliable in his supporting turns, conjures his best performance to date as the pragmatic Sanborn. His older brother chemistry with an equally excellent Geraghty (who was memorable as Fergus in Jarhead) is a huge boon to the films (palpitating) heart.

Director Kathryn Bigelow, who’s always dealt so well with men, manliness, and male egos and emotions, finally delivers the “great movie” her talent has always promised. (That’s not a knock on her because Point Break and Near Dark are rather spectacular in their own goofy way, but this is the step up in quality she has always been capable of delivering.) In kind, how this movie subtly examines the addiction to adrenaline, and plumbs the depths of male familial needs, and the pitfalls of male bravado makes it a home run. Her muscular direction combines with a ragged, jittery camerawork to give the movie a ripped-from-the-battlefield documentary style that serves the action well. Using this style to her advantage, Bigelow ratchets up the tension to sweaty, anxious levels; it’s exhilarating and exhausting watching this movie. Every man, woman, child, phone, goat is viewed suspiciously as a trigger or carrier. Bigelow’s superior sense of action and understanding of men just gives you the feeling she could pimp slap Michael Bay into the third grade and scare Brett Ratner and McG into diapers with a glare. In the best way possible, she’s one of the manliest directors in Hollywood.

All together this isn’t a war movie, in the classical sense. The war is ancillary to the events of the film; the focus is so tight on the three soldiers that the conflcit falls away from the spotlight. Politics are absent, big brass plays no roles, major troop movements aren’t discussed. This must be how it feels to be part of an EOD team, a part of the action but isolated from it, a part of the force but secondary to it. Screenwriter Mark Boal wrote the script based on his experiences as an embedded journalist with an EOD team.

This is a “do not miss” in my opinion. Renner is superb, the direction is top-notch, and the action is the definition of “edge of your seat,” I actually felt my muscles tense and my breath shorten in certain scenes. It’s exhilarating, entertaining, and conversation starting. In short, it’s everything a good movie should be. Watch it.

Review: Disney’s A Christmas Carol by DrChocolate

DrChocolate — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 21:31:41 +0000

DrChocolate sees the movies I can’t afford to see in theaters and reviews them, so this site can stay more up-to-date.

For roughly the past fifteen years I have read Dickens’ A Christmas Carol on Christmas Eve, finishing the fifth stave Christmas morning, matching the stories timeline. I adore the book and am more familiar with its perfectly told tale than probably any other story or book. Additionally, I absolutely love a number of the cinematic adaptations, namely The Muppet’s Christmas Carol (shockingly the most accurate version I’ve come across) and the stellar 1984 TV version with George C. Scott. I tell you this in order to properly frame the following review.

Your opinion of this film will probably hinge on your patience for Jim Carrey and your tolerance for Robert Zemeckis’ elastic-faced, doll-eyed motion capture animation. Unfortunately, my level for both is very low. I find Jim Carrey tedious and this form of animation off-putting and awkward. Due to my love of the source material, however, I decided to put aside my prejudices and see this new iteration.

Casting Jim Carrey as Ebenezer and as all the Christmas Ghosts is the first problem. His Ebenezer is neither good nor bad per se, but it’s a regrettable creative decision to introduce Scrooge as a pitiable, pathetic loner rather than the decisive, hard-as-nails hermit he is in the book. It instantly lessens the redemptive impact of the climax. It’s when Carrey appears as the Ghost of Christmas Past where things really begin to go south. Apparently, Past is a gay Irishman in the midst of an asthma attack. It’s an overwrought and distracting performance that detracts from Scrooge’s melancholy journey into his disregarded past.

That gets to the heart of my issues with this movie. So much of it is overwrought. Each performance seems to be set at eleven with most actors doing nothing more than excitedly declaring their lines at full volume; it is the utter opposite of the multi-faceted performances from Where the Wild Things Are (read my review here). The only performance with any nuance and subtlety, which is not surprising considering his track record, comes from Gary Oldman as Bob Cratchit. (Cratchit also appears to be a hydrocephalic, rendered with an inexplicably large gourd.) The only emotion in the film comes from Oldman’s performances, who also does a bang up job as the ghost of Marley.

Often the animation is spectacular, but too often it is spectacularly over the top. There are certain sequences that are visually arresting, such as Scrooge lighting a match in the dark, Marley’s appearance, and when the specters transition from showing Scrooge one scene to another. Yet too often the movie devolves into Lucas-like “looky what we can do with computers” shenanigans; it’s as if Zemeckis is sitting next to you in the theater, elbowing you constantly in the ribs, going “Isn’t what we did there so cool?” There is a particularly mindless “action” scene with the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come (who is terrifyingly imagined as a shadow that flits in and out of solidity) that is a major misfire and is completely disconnected from the rest of the film. In addition, the filmmaker’s insistence on interjecting juvenile “humorous” bits serves only to jarringly disengage the audience from the narrative as well.

Disney’s A Christmas Carol fails in finality because it does the polar opposite of the book – it does not conjure any sort of Christmas spirit or magic, or even joy. It arrives emotionally inert and aesthetically overstuffed. Do yourself a favor, avoid this raging disappointment and rent one of the more faithful and emotionally superior versions previously mentioned. Not recommended at all.

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