Movie Review: "Jurassic Park" by David Pretty

 
Jurassic Park was one of the last major studio summer blockbusters to be made with the skill and sensibilities that characterize 70's and 80's-era film-making. Even though Spielberg had a bunch of fancy new digital toys to play with, it certainly didn't make him complacent. As a result, the movie is well-plotted, well-acted and features interesting character arcs and still-relevant thematic underpinnings.

When paleontologist Dr. Alan Grant (Sam Neil) and paleobotanist Dr. Ellie Sattler (Laura Dern) receive an unexpected visit from eccentric one-percenter John Hammond (Richard Attenborough), their curiosity is understandably piqued. Acting like the cat that ate the canary, Hammond tempts them with an offer they can't refuse: if they sign off on his secretive new prehistoric theme park he'll finance their research for the next three years. Naturally they agree to help him.

En route to the park's remote island location we're introduced to rock star mathematician and chaos theory proponent Dr. Ian Malcolm (Jeff Goldblum). Malcolm already seems suspicious about Hammond's plan and when they get to the island his skittishness is vindicated. When they arrive on Isla Nublar they discover that the billionaire has used DNA recovered from blood in the bellies of amber-preserved mosquitoes to resurrect real, live dinosaurs.

The park's minor glitches soon go from vaguely annoying to potentially deadly when greedy computer programmer Dennis Nedry (Wayne Knight) disables the park's security systems during a botched heist. This strands Alan, Malcolm, insurance lawyer Donald Genarro (Martin Ferrero) and Hammond's two grand kids Lex (Ariana Richards) and Tim (Joeseph Mazzello) right by the T-Rex paddock. Soon all hell breaks loose and the human characters suddenly find themselves tumbling several steps down the food chain.

Unlike so many contemporary action movies which spoil so much in the trailers, Jurassic Park waits until your ass is firmly ensconced in that theater seat before trotting out the amusement park thrills. Indeed the script's philosophy appears to be "good things come to those who wait". Fortunately this isn't a chore since John Hammond's coy, child-like, "I-know-something-you-don't-know" attitude is ridiculously compelling. You wanna keep watching just to find out what the smarmy old codger is so excited about.

We also get some stellar protagonists to root for right out of the gate. Within a few economic moments of screen time we see that Sam Neill's Dr. Alan Grant is knowledgeable, passionate and hates children almost as much is Donald Trump hates Mexicans. Neill has a lot of fun with the role, throwing in some super-quirky moments which come off as inspired brilliance. I love his weak-in-the-knees reaction to his first dino-sighting, his intense, egg-sniffing soliloquy about the resilience of prehistoric reproduction and the scene in which he scares the fertilizer out of a disrespectful brat for liking velociraptors to giant chickens.

Eventually Spielberg hits us with a double-barreled blast of his trademark wonderment. When we see the first dinosaur at the twenty-minute mark, Sam Neill's reaction pretty much mirrors that of theater-goers back in 1993. The impact of this scene is further jacked up by a tantalizing crane shot that shows the character's stunned reactions, several low P.O.V.'s that Spielberg later exploited in the under-rated War of the Worlds and, of course, that rousing John Williams orchestral score.

 
Even moments of potentially-dry exposition are delivered with flair and originality. Granted original novelist Michael Crichton probably deserves as much credit for this as Spielberg does, but the park's animated orientation sequence is pure genius. Not only does this goofy little cartoon explain all the scientific mumbo-jumbo in an economic and entertaining way, it's also well in-step with the milieu. In a lesser film, like, oh, I dunno, a Star Wars prequel, Hammond would just stand there and yammer at the other characters in a ten-minute orgy of dialogue-delivered exposition.

After buying the film's main conceit wholesale we're then treated to one of the best scenes in cinema history. It's the sort of moment that modern blockbusters don't feel the need to include, always to their detriment. The characters meet over some haute cuisine and debate the ethics of Hammond's venture. Their host is both naïve and blasé about the whole thing, Alan and Ellie are dealing with unexpected feelings of extinction, and the lawyer is presumably touching himself underneath the table while thinking about all of that potentially- filthy lucre.  

Meanwhile Jeff Goldblum calmly packs up the entire scene and walks off with it, delivering one of the best cinematic mic drops evar:

This one simple moment distinguishes Jurassic Park from most of the shitty, interchangeable noisemakers that sluice out of the Hollywood poop chute every summer. It also keeps the film as fresh and relevant as it was back in 1993. The ethical dilemma posed by the same science used to resurrect the dinosaurs could very easily substitute for various contemporary hot button issues like genetic engineering, GMO's and singularity-level artificial intelligence.

That's not to say that the film is just a bunch of eggheads sitting around debating ethics. Things quickly get very hairy at the ol' T-Rex paddock. Spielberg, master showman that he is, has already established this location about fifteen minutes ago when Grant and company first passed by it. As audience members back in 1993 we all smiled with bloodthirsty anticipation as Hammond tried to lure the T-Rex out with a feeder goat. And just like the characters in the movie we were all gravely disappointed when absolutely nothing happened.

But this is exactly what you'd expect at a regular ol' non-dinosaur-related wild game reserve. Sure, you've given the animals a huge enclosure but this makes it a lot harder for us to see them. Clearly Spielberg is telling us that these creatures aren't going to emerge from the woods and start tap-dancing for our amusement. And therein lies the rub. We paid to see some hot dino action, goddammit, and if we don't get it, those Trip Advisor reviews are gonna be carnivore-level vicious!     

Spielberg then proceeds to trot out that old adage "be careful what you wish for." The torrential rain gets worse. After a flash of lightning the feeder goat suddenly vanishes. Intimations of impact tremors are first betrayed by a glass of rippling water. Soon the footfalls become palpable. A bloody goat leg flies out of the jungle and lands on top of the kid's tour car. And then everything goes completely and utterly bat-shit nuts.

Gary Rydstrom's sound design for all of the dinosaurs, particularly the T-Rex, is absolutely brilliant. After the beast heralds its approach with a DTS-optimized roar that sounds like a combination of a rabid elephant and reality rending asunder, we see a tentative limb test the fence for an electrical charge. The creature's subsequent attack on the tour vehicles is such a master class of action and suspense that viewers will find themselves perched on on the edge of their seat the entire time. Credit the actors as well for selling this elaborate smoke n' mirrors trick to a positively stunned audience.

Now admittedly Laura Dern's Ellie Sattler isn't half as interesting as Dern's actual performance. For example, Ellie likes kids because, hey, ALL GIRLS LIKE KIDS. Perhaps her best moment comes when the park first breaks down and they lose contact with the tour. She finds Hammond sulking alone in the cafeteria, gorging himself on the melting ice cream. During this poignant scene she manages to spur him into action all the while reconciling her own fears. I love that little throw-away moment when she absently samples the ice cream and then feels compelled to admit how good it tastes.

"I spared no expense," Hammond says, now resigned to the demise of his childhood dream.

This scene is particularly impactful because, through it all, Hammond has been relentlessly-optimistic, downright positive and impossibly genial. The fact that Richard Attenborough was cast as Santa Claus in the remake of Miracle On 34'th Street is no coincidence. He's just so earnest and wide-eyed that you actually find yourself hoping that this five-masted ship of hubris will right itself, even though it would be detrimental to your entertainment value.

Another choice scene involving Dern and Attenborough occurs much later when Ellie volunteers to manually reactivate the electrical grid. 

John Hammond: It ought to be me really going.
Dr. Ellie Sattler: Why?
John Hammond: Well, I'm a...And you're, um, a...
Dr. Ellie Sattler: Look, we can discuss sexism in survival situations when I get back.

This exchange might sounds a tad anachronistic but coming from the grandfatherly Attenborough the comment almost sounds like misplaced chivalry. Twenty two years ago it gave Dern a chance to remind us all that limitations placed on women in action movies is downright idiotic. Back then she still had to fight for her cinematic rights, even after the trailblazing efforts of Sarah Connor and Ellen Ripley.

 
What I like most about Dern's performance is that it's relatable. Ellie is a paleobotanist, not Lara Croft so it's no surprise that she takes a tumble during her desperate dash for the generator. At one point, the persistently-cranky Samuel L. Jackson gives Spielberg a hand in an impish nod to Jaws. Sorry, but if that shit happened to me I'd be all like ' I don't care if I dropped that four-hundred dollar floodlight on the floor, I'll drag that bitch twenty miles before I stop runnin'.'

After the T-Rex attack, Alan is forced to guide Hammond's two precocious grand kids all the way back to the orientation center. Now under normal circumstances, I'd accuse Spielberg of deliberately pandering to kids if not for the fact that Tim and Lex also appear in Crichton's original novel. At least the kids are well cast, serve up some low-level comic relief and provide grist for Alan's character arc.

The kids are also at the heart of the film's best sequence, the velociraptor attack. You wouldn't think it possible that Spielberg and his team could possibly top the T-Rex scene from earlier but you'd be wrong. Michael Kahn's crackerjack editing gives the set-piece a frenetic pace rarely matched by contemporary blockbusters. And despite the low lighting and a zillion reflective surfaces, master cinematographer Dean Cundey gives the sequence crystal clarity as well as a cool, icy tone that mirrors the dead eyes of the raptors themselves.

And even though I realize how ridiculously improbable it is, that final shot inside the orientation center is pure money. I still get chills hearing the T-Rex proclaim his dominance over the world as the "When Dinosaurs Ruled The Earth" banner flutters to the ground in front of him. It's the sort of moment that was clearly brainstormed on set and these little touches make Jurassic Park the stuff of pop culture legend.
 
Three years later Independence Day was released, presaging the end of intelligent blockbusters. Pretty soon it became de rigueur for summer tent pole action movie to blatantly embrace cliches, serve up laughably poor dialogue and / or wallow in rank stupidity. Every once and awhile a movie comes along that manages to incorporate style and substance but for the most part old-school sensibilities like character development, original plots and compelling themes are about as extinct as half of the cast of Jurassic Park.

Thankfully this venerable, twenty-two-year-old classic, forever preserved in digital amber, will always be around to remind us what a real summer action movie used to look like.

     Tilt: up.

Movie Review: "Fight Club" by David Pretty

  
The first time I saw Fight Club my feelings about it were...complicated. I thought the anarchic finale was irresponsible and the twist ending was improbable. Now, after an inconceivable sixteen years worth of retrospect, I can safely say that Fight Club should have won "Best Picture" back in 2000.

That's not to disparage American Beauty, which is an amazing movie in its own right. But I think it scored the Oscar nomination and eventually won, not because it was the better film but because it was made by and for Baby Boomers while Fight Club was targeted at "Generation X". I don't think it's co-incidence that both films came out around the same time, had a lot of the same plot beats and covered similar thematic ground. It was as if two different age groups wanted to go on record to say that the prevailing social paradigm was complete horseshit before everything eventually unraveled during Y2K.

In order for a film to wring a five-star rating out of me, it has to be technically proficient, vaguely relevant to my existence, challenging to watch, original, revelatory and potentially life-altering. No small order, but Fight Club did all of this and more. As a result it's been on my list of Top Ten favorite films of all time since its debut back in 1999.

The movie's IMDb synopsis ("An office employee and a soap salesman build a global organization to help vent male aggression.") sounds like it was written by someone who never saw the film or at least missed the point completely. Even though Fight Club is told from the perspective of two male characters, the film's themes are universal. It's really about recognizing the debt-ridden, advert-soaked existence that corporations want to mire you in and how to break free from this paradigm of modern slavery. It's not enough that you acknowledge this invisible prison, you have to annihilate it, even if it requires a drastic and painful personal metamorphosis.

Ed Norton is our friendly narrator, an office drone who toils away for a morally bankrupt insurance company. His fleeting moments of happiness seem limited to new acquisitions for his extensive Ikea furniture collection. After suffering from chronic insomnia for months and test-driving every standard medical treatment he infiltrates a support group for survivors of testicular cancer. The catharsis that comes from being viscerally and emotionally re-attached to reality again soon has him sleeping like a baby. 

Of course, this dysfunctional bliss can't last forever and the spoiler comes in the form of rival poseur Marla (Helena Bonham Carter). Her presence is like a psychic splinter, reminding our protagonist that the unconventional solution to his plight is nothing more than a band-aid applied to a sucking chest wound. In a deux ex machina-style co-incidence, another avenue of salvation immediately presents itself in the form of Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt), a "single-serving friend" that he meets on a flight. The narrator is immediately taken by this chaotically-dressed, self-assured, soap-making anarchist and when his materially-defined existence is completely annihilated, he soon falls completely under Durden's thrall.

It's easy to understand his fascination at first since Tyler's insight into contemporary existence cuts to the quick of our modern malaise. In what sounds like the natural extension of Lester Burnham's anti-pristine sofa rant in American Beauty, Tyler declares: "Fuck off with your sofa units and strine green stripe patterns, I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect, I say let's evolve, let the chips fall where they may."

The establishment of their verboten-to-talk-about titular organization happens not to "vent male aggression" as the myopic blurb above might suggest but to get people back in touch with the base, primitive definition of what it means to be human. Tyler starts taking some drastic steps to ensure the "evolution" of the Clubs and this is where my initial unease with the film began to creep in.

 
I was fine with Tyler's philosophy but as soon as he began to put his money where his mouth was I wanted to bail on him. When Tyler organizes the Clubs into a bonafide social movement, he starts performing acts of corporate terrorism with the ultimate goal of returning humanity to a more natural state. The lengths that he's willing to go to in order to fulfill this had me squirming uncomfortably in my seat. Clearly, I was still a brainwashed good little serf back then who thought that such actions were genuinely shocking.

Eventually I came to see Tyler Durden as an amalgam of my more challenging friends, one of whom floated his "Thatched Hut" theory a good five years before Chuck Palahniuk's novel was published. This theory maintained that all human beings really need to be happy in life is some sort of menial job, a thatched hut on a beach, friends to keep you company and the ability to get drunk periodically.

At the time I balked at how naive this sounded, since I couldn't reconcile this with my budding Star Wars toy collection or my current generation video game console. As I got older, however, I began to put more credence in Tyler's opinion that "the things you own end up owning you." Then, when you add in many thankless years of work drudgery, discovering the seemingly-limitless depths of corporate greed and realizing how much big business impedes human development, I eventually found myself gravitating towards Tyler's corner. I've even come to the point where the film's shocking denouement seems kinda justified. 

Now I could prattle on endlessly about well-acted, directed and written the film is, but Fight Club almost transcends examination on a mere technical level just because it's so much more than the sum of its cinematic parts. This is a film of tremendous influence and importance and one that I've come to recognize as the embodiment of my own personal credo, a credo that has had a major impact on my life. 

Much like the tortuous "lye test" that Tyler inflicts on the narrator, it's downright painful to unplug yourself from an existence that views the acquisition of wealth and material goods as the ultimate indicator of success. And I'm speaking from experience here. With the ethos of Fight Club still clanging around in my head I decided to opt out of being an interchangeable cog in a corporate machine back in April of 2010. As of this writing the jury's still out as to whether or not I did the right thing. While my heart, soul and mind have experienced a "Durden-esque" Renaissance my finances remain about as bleak as the headquarters of "Project Mayhem".

So when I say that Fight Club changed my life I ain't just whistlin' Dixie. 

http://julianmadesomething.deviantart.com/art/Fight-Club-Quote-397556338

The ballsy conviction and monetary plate-spinning required to liberate yourself from modern slavery isn't just taxing, it's arguably impossible. Despite this truism I can't help but ponder how many other people have used the mental nitroglycerin contained within the fabric of this film to reboot their own lives. Like the corner store clerk that Tyler threatens to execute if he doesn't take immediate steps to pursue his life's dream, I really felt as if the film was pointing a gun at my temple, ordering me to initiate some sort of positive change. In fact I have no idea how someone can watch Fight Club and then willingly and blissfully sink back into the doldrums of their domestic captivity.

I also can't help but wonder if I'll ever see another picture so relevant, so true and so worthy of recognition that I'll still be singing it's praises sixteen years after its release.

Movie Review: "Gladiator" by David Pretty

Color me surprised when I found myself feeling rather disappointed after watching Gladiator. The trailer gave me the impression that I was going to watch an obscure story about a real-life Roman gladiator who became a martyr after opposing the sick whims of a degenerate Emperor. Instead I got yet another color-by-numbers revenge fantasy without a shred of historical context, tons of grungy cinematography, and dated CGI.

First off I'm sick and tired of screenwriters thumbing their nose at historical accuracy. If you're thinking: "C'mon, Dave, we go to the movies to be entertained, not to be educated" I'd counter with "Fuck you, talented and ambitious screenwriters can do both". There's probably a whole slew of legendary tales in the annals of history about gladiator bravery, honor and rebellion, but scribes David Franzoni, John Logan and William Nicholson weren't content with that. Instead they banged out a bland, predictable and homogenized script likely to appease all of the mouth-breathers out there who aren't content unless they can check off every single box on their "Ahm gettin' mah monies wurth" checklist of cliches. 

If you wanna write a completely fictional screenplay with no basis in reality, that's fine by me. But as soon as you start dippin' into the genre of historical drama, you need to adhere to show at least a modicum of respect for the truth. And not just for the benefit of anal-retentive assholes like me, you really have an obligation to all the morons out there who don't know any better. I shudder to think how many idiots out there think that Hitler was killed in a theater in Paris "thanks" to Inglorious Basterds. Or Robert the Bruce deliberately back-stabbed William Wallace because, well...Braveheart. Or that Americans single-handedly retrieved the German's Enigma code machine just like they did in U-571. The general public is misinformed and under-informed enough without Hollywood adding to the problem.   

And so it is with Gladiator, which completely thumbs (down) it's nose at historical accuracy. Minor liberties I can deal with but the whoppers on display here would have changed the entire course of human history forever. If I had my druthers I'd make Franzoni, Logan and Nicholson write "TRUTH IS STRANGER AND OFTEN COOLER THAN FICTION" a hundred times on the blackboard until they learned their lesson. Call me crazy but I think dramatic tension is heightened when the events I'm watching actually happened to real people.

So is Gladiator a complete and total write-off? Fuck, no. The whole thing kicks off with a massive, on-screen pitched battle between a horde of barbarians and the Roman legionary, a crazy spectacle that rivals anything I've ever seen on screen before or since. Indeed, this was one of the last few times when a major studio production used a real environment populated with real extras, props, cavalry, horses and ballistae to re-create a scene of ancient warfare. Many movies that followed, like Troy for example, opted to use large swaths of cartoonish CGI instead which produced less than stellar results.

This epic scrum is followed by a series of escalating mano-a-mano gladiatorial fights. The down n' dirty Moroccan pit-battle segues nicely into an intended rout involving archers and chariots and then moves on to a bold-faced assassination attempt featuring human mountanoid Sven-Ole Thorsen and a litter of pop-o-matic tigers. Unfortunately things eventually come crashing down with a disappointing and laughably-improbable main event.

Even though the battles are well-executed I really wish that director Ridley Scott had kept the camera back a little bit further from the action to really emphasize the scale of these epic tilts. This is further hampered by Pietro Scalia periodic lapses into ginsu-style editing. Having said that nothing in Gladiator is nearly as offensive as the crap on display in your average Michael Bay / Transformers-style A.D.D. visual fuck-fest.

The tremendous cast helps to make amends for the film's "ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!?" desperation to impress. Even though he's about as Roman and / or Spanish as me nan, Russell Crowe is completely convincing as the fictional general Maximus Decimus Meridius. He effortlessly manages to convey the character's power of command, his aptitude in combat and his devotion as a family man. Crowe is a pretty charismatic dude, so he makes it easy to root for Maximus even if our hero is sketched out in the broadest of brushstrokes.

Joachim Phoenix strikes a pretty amazing balance as Commodus. On paper, the Emperor is completely devoid of any redeeming features; he's vindictive, petulant, childish and slimy but somehow Phoenix manages to evoke a twinge of sympathy from time to time. Connie Nielson is appropriately regal and stalwart as Lucilla, even though she's forced into needlessly icky scenes with her on-screen bro and forced to play out the incredibly lazy and seemingly obligatory script contrivance of a past dalliance with Maximus.

Then there's poor Oliver Reed who gives one of the best performances in the film. Unfortunately he died part way through principal photography and was replaced by a CGI doppelganger that looks marginally better than the film's many fake-looking establishing shots. Kinda symbolic.   

And what's with all of the grungy cinematography? I just assumed that the Germania sequences were deliberately shot in a murky fashion to contrast with the inevitable introduction of Rome, or what Maximus wearily describes as the one spot of "light" in the world. But when the action moves to the Eternal City it's just as gloomy, dark and oppressive-looking as anywhere else.

Gladiator was a genuine disappointment to me. It could have been so much more but instead it took the lazy and easy way out by delivering a schlocky, cliche-ridden revenge story that we've seen a million times over.  Even the mighty Colosseum, one of the later-day Wonders of the World, was digitally blown up in scale just to make it more spectacular-looking on screen. And that pretty much sums up the movie to me right there: it isn't content with the inherently-amazing truth of our own human history. It's so pathetically desperate to impress a modern audience that it's willing to blithely adapt tropes more at home in an 80's fantasy film.

Speaking of, since the ludicrous finale seemed less I, Claudius and more Conan the Barbarian, I had to do a bit of independent research.

Yes, there was a Roman Emperor named Commodus. And yes, he liked to participate in gladiatorial games from time to time. But he also liked to dress up like Hercules and was strangled to death in a bathtub.

Now that's interesting.  
                  

  Tilt: down.

Movie Review - "Mad Max: Fury Road" by David Pretty

IN A NUTSHELL

In a post-apocalyptic future where gasoline is gold, Imperator Furiosa (Charlize Theron) goes rogue during a supply run, guiding her War Rig off course. Turns out she's secretly liberated the five genetically-flawless brides of the creepy, despotic overlord Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne). In the resulting clash, Furiosa is unexpected paired up with Max (Tom Hardy), a former cop who lost everything after the crash and has gone decidedly nutso. After discovering that you can't go home after all, the two formulate a desperate plan that will either lead to redemption or a fiery and bloody demise along the deadly expanse of Fury Road.

IN THE WHEELHOUSE

If you've been desperately craving a genuinely-thrilling, stripped down action movie with heart, soul and a unique visual eye, then Mad Max: Fury Road is for you. In other words, if you possess even a modicum of taste and discrimination stop reading this stupid review and go see the friggin' movie. 

PROS

• Short & Fleet  Finally, an action movie that doesn't drag on for nearly three hours! Fury Road is lean, mean and goes right for the jugular vein. As a result, the two-hour run time flies by like a cat-related Vine video.
• Turns Out Film Is A Visual Medium After All  Fury Road thoroughly embraces the "show, don't tell" ethos of visual storytelling. It's also a big proponent of "actions speak louder than words" since we learn just as much about the characters by what they do rather than what they say. Mercifully there are no scenes of people running on at the mouth for the express purpose of explaining every little nuance to the mouth-breathing popcorn munchers in the audience. Which brings me to...
• It's Weird As Fuck George Miller brilliantly world-builds by serving up all kinds of throw-away details and then gives not a single, solitary fuck about why its there. In one scene obese women are milked like cattle. Fucked-up dudes on stilts walk around a blue-tinted marsh like the landstriders in The Dark Crystal. Joe's War Boys routinely juice themselves up with a crank-like aerosol drug which resembles silver spray paint. A massive tsunami of sand batters motorists foolish enough to venture inside like the Wrath of God. One of the marauding vehicles sports a session guitarist for Marilyn Manson strapped to a stack of speakers likely inherited from Motörhead. With all of these bizarre details left lying around to ponder we begin to see just how truly huge this world is. 
• Mel Who?  Okay, that's not entirely fair. Sticking with the redemption theme, I think it would have been great if Mel Gibson returned to the role that made him famous, but going with Tom Hardy instead accomplished some very important things. For one, Gibson's presence probably would have brought the wrong sort of attention to the film. Granted he seems to be keeping a better lid on the rants lately but we really need someone in this role who's just playing mad instead of someone who's clearly playing hockey with a warped puck. Two, Tom Hardy is an inspired choice to inherit the role. Brutish, monosyllabic, compact and badger-like, Hardy brings a wealth of prodigious talent to a borderline olde skool silent film performance. Via a series of amazingly subtle and original facial tics, cro-magnon body language and animalistic utterances, Hardy gives us a completely original take on the role. Bonus points for his intimation of an Australian accent which Charlize Thereon didn't even bother to attempt. Ah well, maybe she was on holiday in Queensland when the shit hit the proverbial fan.     
• It's A Hard Nux Life   Nicholas Hoult is virtually unrecognizable here as the rogue War Boy Nux. It just amazes me that his character experiences more of an arc than 90% of the leads in modern action movies. I'm sure Hoult has built up considerable tolerance for makeup applications since he played Beast in these two recent X-Men movies, but here it actually feels as if he's risking life and limb at every turn. At first you hate the brainwashed little weasel but as time wears on and he starts burning through his nine lives you start to feel bad for the guy. Eventually he starts to change his allegiance as new information comes to light, proving he's more flexible than your average Republican. By the time the film reaches its bat-shit crazy climax you'll find yourself rooting for the little shit. Throughout it all, Hoult goes for broke, expertly navigating the character from manic to noble. 
• ALL HAIL IMPERATOR FURIOSA!  A case can be made that Charlize Theron's Furiosa is actually the lead and not Max, which is fine by me. Resolute, highly-skilled, authoritative, passionate, intelligent, suicidally brave yet somehow vulnerable; Theron brings every facet of this interesting character to life with stunning conviction. This virtually guarantees that we share her anguish, rage and determination at various points in the story. On paper, George Miller, Brendan McCarthy and Nico Lathouris have penned a truly memorable action hero who stands shoulder-to-shoulder with cinema's best but Theron deserves the lion's share of praise for her sure-footed, note-perfect incarnation.
• Not Just Your Average Joe  Color me impressed that George Miller cast Hugh Keays-Byrne as the main heavy here. Fans of the series already know that Hugh played Max's main foil The Toecutter in the very first Mad Max film back in 1979. Here's he's back as Immortan Joe, creepy, a cult-like figure who looks like a cross between a White Walker, Ghost Cowboy, and Eddie from Iron Maiden. Decked out in a skull-faced breath mask, fright wig, white pancake makeup and transparent fiberglass chest protector with airbrushed abs, Hugh strikes a formidable form. But he isn't just style over substance; Keays-Byrne brings a genuinely frighting, decadent, and perverse quality to the role. During a rare moment of vulnerability, you have a twinge of sympathy for the creep until you're reminded of the whole Nestlé-style water hoarding / sex slave thing and you're back to rooting for his comeuppance again. Credit Keays-Byrne for giving us a rare moments pause for thought.
• Riot Grrrrl: The Motion Picture  Above and beyond the presence of Furiosa, her long-lost clan turns out to be a band of flinty older ladies who are just as brave and strident as she is. It's a pretty sad commentary about the state of modern film-making when a group of older women feels like stunt casting in an action movie. Shrewd move on Miller's behalf since we all know that women can be just as tough as men when the chips are down. Hell, I think they'd be smarter and more resilient than most men. Now, some people out there are getting their knickers in a knot because the Five Wives look like scantily-clad super-models but if you actually sit and think about it from a story perspective, it actually makes perfect sense. Being the creepy despot that he is, Joe hand-picked these girls for their pristine appearance and kept them in a permanent state of undress. And even if the Wives aren't as ass-kicky as Furiosa or The Valkyrie, they're still a helluva lot more brave, strong and competent than my flabby, privileged, XY chromosome, first world ass could ever be. I hate it when people freak out whenever a woman is depicted as anything less than Ellen Ripley or Sarah Connor. Sorry, folks, but there are people out there, both men and women, who'd become hysterical or apoplectic with fear if confronted with some of the crazy shit on display here, present company included. Writers should have the prerogative to depict scared and / or superfluous characters regardless of their gender. By the same token I totally agree that we need more positive roles for women and Fury Road actually goes to considerable lengths to serve up many variations of the female experience.

• Mad Max In 3D Smell-O-Vision   Like The Watcher from the Marvel Universe, I just kinda sat there and observed what was going on during most of Avengers: Age of Ultron. Watching Mad Max: Fury Road was a completely different experience; it felt as if I was personally strapped to the front grill of the lead marauder's nitro truck the entire time. I felt completely pulled into this world, lost in the minutia of the production design, imperiled by my proximity to the action and invested in the survival of the characters. I could almost taste dust and blood in my mouth and smell the acrid smoke, sweat and burning petrol all around. I can't remember the last time I was so deeply immersed in such a visceral cinematic experience and that's a pretty incredible achievement.
• "Oh What A Day, What A Lovely Day!"  The production design shows a level of unparallelled imagination and detail that completely humiliates it's contemporaries. The Citadel and its bizarre horde of oddball denizens is downright fascinating to look at. Furiosa's War Rig, Joe's Gigahorse, the Bullet Farmer's Peacemaker Half-Track, The Big Foot and, of course, the speaker-laden Doof Wagon are just some of the incredible vehicles on display in the film. The costumes for such diverse factions as the Citadel serfs, the War Boys, and the Buzzards are all unique, easily identifiable and highly-detailed. Every frame is jam-packed with so much to look at and obsess over but unlike CGI-soaked crap like the Star Wars prequels, this all feels genuinely real, hand-worn and lived-in.     
• "Move Over, Sonny, And I'll Let Me Show You How It's Done"  Words can't express how delighted I am that George Miller, a seventy-year old grandpa, just came outta nowhere to bludgeon us all senseless with one of the most vibrant, lean, vicious, engaging, satisfying, visually-stunning action movies of the past decade. The movie feels like Miller shouting "No, no, NO, ya chowder-head! This is how ya do it!" in response to all of the dreck that Micheal Bay and Zach Snyder have been collectively shitting into existence lately. Either the CGI has been kept to a bare minimum or it's so good that it dove-tails perfectly with all of the practical stuff. Either way, it's a win-win all around. As far as I can tell, the vehicle combats were lensed using the same techniques used for all the previous Mad Max movies. That is to say Miller put a real caravan of cobbled-together vehicles out on a salt bed somewhere and then instructed his actors to try creatively murder one another. Using a well-practiced repertoire of low and wide camera angles as well as helicopter and crane shots, he drops us right into the middle of the action and keeps us on the edge of our seat the entire time. Add in a plethora of creatively-vicious weapons and equipment like chainsaws, explosive javelins, caltrops, harpoons and metronome-like vaulting poles, and you have the most gleefully anarchic battle scenes ever filmed. Add in a few highly-inventive non-vehicle sequences such as a muzzled Max's introductory scrap with Furiosa and the truly atmospheric mud bog trap and you're left with a variable, kinetic, compulsively-watchable action thriller.    
• Coma the Doof Warrior: Live! Tonight! Sold Out!    The music by Junkie XL is note-perfect for the movie: memorable, ominous, propulsive, discordant, concussive and chill-inducing. I've always been suspicious of composers who try convince audiences that truly successful soundtracks are the ones that you never notice. Yes, a good score should augment the action and never distract but I think it's a real feather in a composer's cap if the audience leaves the theater humming a few bars.     

CONS

• Nothing, really. I suppose you could make a case for more plot but I really think that there's just enough narrative sprinkled throughout the film to give it a raison d'être.  I guess you could lobby for more breaks in the action to catch your breath, but what purpose would that serve? I'd counter by saying that Furiosa's reunion with her tribe serves as the perfect oasis of calm amidst the action-packed bookends. In fact, the only nit I could possibly pick is that sometimes the editing is a bit too "battling seizure robots" for my taste but that's just giving me more incentive to watch it again.

THE BOTTOM LINE

Mad Max: Fury Road is one of the most thrilling, original, full-blooded, balls-to-the-wall, sci-fi action films I've seen in recent memory. As soon as I'm done typing this it's gonna take some serious willpower not to march right back down to the theater and watch it all over again.

And, frankly, that's some pretty high praise right there. 

Tilt: up.

Movie Review - "Avengers: Age of Ultron" by David Pretty

IN A NUTSHELL

In a move clearly designed to give him more time to climb aboard Pepper Potts and / or lapse back into alcoholism, wealthy industrialist Tony Stark A.K.A. Iron-Man (Robert Downey Jr.) builds an A.I.-powered robot named Ultron (voiced by James Spader) to take over as earth's primary guardian. Unfortunately as soon as Ultron takes one look at the internet, the sentient android comes to the logical and forgivable conclusion that all of humanity should be wiped out. Naturally the Avengers assemble to stop him but two secret H.Y.D.R.A. experiments may end up tearing the team apart from the inside.

IN THE WHEELHOUSE

Given the tally of box office receipts thus far, I think it's safe to say that EVERYONE ON THE FREAKIN' PLANET is predisposed to watching this movie. Seriously, though, if you like your action with a side-order of brains, actors who elevate goofy material by their sheer presence and character *slash* story arcs that permanently shake up a fictional universe, than Age of Ultron is just what the Doctor ordered. 

Hopefully that Doctor is more Strange and less Doom. Let's see, shall we?

PROS

• Writer / director / god amongst men Joss Whedon had a lot of ground to over this time out. He had to deliver some meaningful character moments for all six of his primary leads. He had to introduce Quicksilver, Scarlett Witch and Vision. He had to bring back a slew of supporting characters such as Maria Hill, Sam Wilson a.k.a. The Falcon, James Rhodes a.k.a. War Machine, Peggy Carter, Heimdall, Erik Selvig and Nick Fury. He had to address the current struggle against H.Y.D.R.A. and bring Loki's scepter back into play. He had to give us an origin story for Ultron. But perhaps the most challenging thing of all: he had to till and sow the plot field for the third Captain America movie and the future Infinity War. As someone who's actually written for comic books, knows Marvel lore inside and out and is a huge stickler for continuity and decent storytelling, Whedon is perhaps the best possible candidate to pull this off and he actually acquits himself remarkably well.
• Just like in Captain America: Winter Soldier, some very interesting questions are raised about relevant real-word topics such as preemptive war and the dangers of rogue A.I. Seriously, I love that a movie featuring an archer, a Russian spy, an armored industrialist, a walking American flag and a giant green rage monster also includes deep thoughts that make you go "Hmmmmmm." Pity that there's isn't enough time to give these heady topics the time and respect they deserve but at least it inspired some thought-provoking, pithy dialogue such as this choice exchange between Captain America and Iron-Man: 

Tony Stark 

Isn't that the mission? Isn't that the 'why we fight'? So we get to go home?
Steve Rogers 

Every time someone times to stop a war before it starts, innocent people die. Every time.

• Although he's still a far cry from Guillermo del Toro or even, dare I say it, a Zack Snyder, Whedon is getting better as an action director. The opening assault on Baron Strucker's outpost, the Hulk-versus-"Hulkbuster" scrap and the extremely "comic-booky" climax are all super-fun to watch. Wisely Whedon hits the pause button every once and awhile to let the audience soak in all of the awesome.
• No surprise here but the script is rife with Joss Whedon's trademark humorous sides, funny quips, manic banter and creative twistings of the English language. Witness the hilarious recurring interplay between the heroes concerning the liftability of Mjölnir, Iron Man's mid-fight lullaby mantra to the Hulk, Natasha's verbal back-lash against Laura's "traitorous" womb, Nick Fury's comment about Ulton's sudden proliferation, Tony's secret door fetish, Thor's back-peddling to Bruce about "the screams of his victims" and oh so many more. Honestly, I wanna re-watch Age of Ultron just to hear all of the lines I laughed through.
• Robert Downey Jr. continues to surprise as our favorite one-percenter-with-a-conscience Tony Stark. Via a combination of raw charisma, inhuman intelligence and supreme confidence, Downey actually manages to make cocky and egotistical kinda sexy. Now some might gripe that the hard lessons Tony learned about teamwork in the previous film have since been "unlearned" but I don't agree. The man is still freakishly brilliant and unaccustomed to restrictions placed on him by lesser intellects, which is pretty much everyone else on the planet. He knows that if he tables the Ultron program in committee with the rest of the Avengers they'll just dismiss it out of turn. Downey manages to strike a pretty good balance between regret and resolve but considering just how much havoc Ultron ends up wreaking I'd like to have seen him be a tad more contrite. If not for the fact that Joss Whedon is pretty militant about replicating scripted dialogue on camera I'd say that Ar Dee Jay pulled a fast one and ad-libbed 90% of his lines, so natural is his delivery.
• Equally on-point is Chris Evans as Steve "Captain America" Rogers. As a pissed-off kid I always used to lean more towards violent, morally-ambiguous antiheroes like Batman, Lobo and Wolverine but as an informed adult I'm much more keen on genuine heroes like Cap. That's not to say that he's preachy or blindly patriotic, quite the opposite. Events depicted in the first Avengers and Winter Soldier in particular have really gotten Cap's knickers in a knot RE: authority overreach and granting limitless powers for the powerful. Thanks to Evans and the MCU writers the proselytizing and propagandizing Captain America of yore to gone, replaced by a relevant sounding board for biting social commentary. Whedon is particularly adept at writing for the character; the running gag about Cap's reflexive anti-"bad language" reflex action is nicely juxtaposed against his incessant shit-disturberery. Yes, the guy has Conservative roots but they have nothing to do with the paranoia masquerading as news on Fox. Whedon also knows that super-hero movies should ultimately be for kids and it's great that there's at least one Avenger who'll do everything he can to keep innocent people safe. It's a reassuring message that kids can't hear often enough.
• Of all the major characters, I'd say that Chris Hemsworth's Thor probably gets the shortest shift this time out. By all accounts an entire subplot involving Thor had to be jettisoned when Whedon's first cut of the film clocked in at a whopping one-hundred and ninety-five minutes! About the only solo screen time Thor gets is a completely out-of-left-field sequence in which he seeks out Eric Selvig (Stellan Skarsgård) to take a dip in a scrying pool to flesh out a vision inspired by Scarlet Witch. Despite this clunky, inexplicable scene, Hemsworth is his usual swaggering, beaming, charming, god-like self. In addition to providing some valuable intel concerning Loki's staff and its ties to the Infinity Stones, Thor also shares some choice dialogue with this fellow Avengers, including a "my girlfriend is better than your girlfriend" throw-down with Tony Stark and a great exchange with James Rhodes over a relatively-underwhelming War Machine story.
• Scarlett Johansson's Black Widow also continues to impress. Thanks to the catch-all script convenience of the aforementioned Scarlet Witch whammy, we get some harrowing insight into Widow's early K.G.B. training. Supposedly there's sort of controversy swirling around how Whedon handled her character this time out but on the drive back home from the theater both me and the wife were wracking our brains trying to figure out what all the fuss was all about. Is it because she gets captured at one point? Maybe, but it's not like she's acts like some sort of helpless waif that needs to be rescued. In fact, Widow brilliantly manages to parlay her imprisonment into a win for the team. There's only one other possible gripe with a shade of legitimacy but I'll cover that in the CON section down below. Suffice to say that I think that Widow is just as stalwart, self-assured, smart and kick-ass as ever and Johansson has officially trumped any preconceived notions I've ever held about casting this character.
• Which brings me to Bruce Banner a.k.a. Ol' Jade Jaws, as played by Mark Ruffalo. Despite the fact that his emerald alter ego was instrumental in saving New York City last time out, Banner is still quite gun shy and, hey, who can blame him? Having the Hulk on a super team is like having Gordon Ramsay working at Subway; he's constantly going to be surrounded by shit that pisses him off and when he finally snaps, it's gonna be ugly. Ruffalo's "walking on eggshells" approach is pitch-perfect and the Hulk's unexpected dénouement makes perfect sense to me, especially in light of the character's comic book predilections. Even though I was kinda irked by how easily Bruce rolls over for Tony, it does speak volumes about Stark's charisma and persuasiveness. All told I genuinely enjoyed yet another nuanced performance by Ruffalo and particularly enjoyed any scenes he shared with Scarlett Johansson and Robert Downey Jr.
• Then there's Clint Barton a.k.a. Hawkguy as portrayed by Jeremy Renner. If anything, Age of Ultron serves as Joss Whedon's apologetic love letter to the character since Hawkeye spent the lion's share of that first film under Loki's hypnotic thrall. Now if this was a completely uninspired script, Clint and Natasha would be an item but thankfully Whedon is on hand to serve up the unexpected. So color me genuinely surprised when it's revealed that Hawkeye enjoys a pretty normal life of domestic bliss, embracing a more recent incarnation of the character's folklore. Now, I'm perfectly content with this since it makes the dude even more blue collar and gives Whedon a chance to drop a bunch of godlike titans into what amounts to a kitchen party. Hawkeye also delivers some of the best dialogue of the film, including a half-muttered response to a show-boating Quicksilver (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) and words of encouragement to a shell-shocked Scarlet Witch (Elizabeth Olsen). His pep talk with her embodies precisely why I believe that Whedon is the absolute best candidate to helm a traditional comic book movie. Via a few economic lines, Renner sums up the ludicrous spectacle of cinematic childhood wish fulfillment. Someone really needs to get Matt Fraction on the horn and get a solo Hawkeye movie into production post-haste.    
• Since Joss Whedon is physically incapable of writing a boring villain, I'll just say that Ultron is not boring. It also helps that James Spader does a phenomenal job voicing the character. I just wish they'd made some different stylistic choices with him, which I hope to elaborate on in the CONS section down below.
• These movies are now so unrepentantly over-the-top epic that formally A-list characters and actors have been relegated to walk-on status. Considering the caliber of talent inhabiting these supporting roles this isn't necessarily a bad thing. Samuel L. Jackson makes a welcome return as the incongruously-comforting, calming and reassuring Nick Fury. Given that he's still technically in exile over the whole H.Y.D.R.A. debacle it makes sense that his presence is fleeting but Jackson is so strong that his appearance feels like a tease. Also, I don't know if this was brilliant foresight or not but the previously-unseen Paul Bettany, who's been the voice of Tony Stark's automated butler J.A.R.V.I.S. since day one, turns out to be a great choice as The Vision. He's the android incarnate; stoic, fascinating to look at and listen to and, in all Ultron's own words, "unbelievably naïve". This back-handed compliment gives Bettany the perfect opportunity to respond "Well, I was born yesterday". He's a great choice and I can't wait to see more of the character in future entries. In addition to tantalizing dollops of these great actors, we also get the mesmerizing Cobie Smulders back as Maria Hill, the so-good-he's-overkill Don Cheadle as James "Rhodey" Rhodes / War Machine, a brief but rousing appearance by Anthony Mackie as Sam Wilson a.k.a. The Falcon and the speculative introduction of Andy Serkis as arms dealer and possible future Avengers foil Ulysses Klaue.    
• As if this star-studded extravaganza didn't already top-heavy with interesting characters and great actors, we also get Elizabeth Olsen as Scarlet Witch and Aaron Taylor-Johnson as Quicksilver. Comic book nerds like your truly already know that the siblings are actually mutants but because Fox has a choke hold on that particular term, Pietro and Wanda Maximoff are depicted here as H.Y.D.R.A.-augmented humans. But, since no one actually comes out and says that they aren't mutants, I'd like to think that these two inherited their freaky-ass powers from their uber-powerful pops and H.Y.D.R.A. just kinda tweaked their abilities and brainwashed 'em a little bit. Both are perfectly capable in their respective roles and use their tragic scripted origins to good effect. In the "Battle of the Quicksilvers" between Evan Peters in X-Men: Days of Future Past and Aaron Taylor-Johnson I have to give the Duke to the former. Admittedly it isn't a completely fair fight since Singer had a lot more time to illustrate his version's speed freak powers and Tweak-from-South Park personality. Aaron Taylor-Johnson does make the most of his fleeting screen time, however, serving up equal measures of bravado and bitterness. Elizabeth Olsen is also pretty durned good, even if her faux-Eastern Bloc accent wavers in and out of existence from time to time. She does a pretty remarkable job segueing from vengeful to sneaky to jilted to anguished and finally settling on ROYALLY PISSED OFF. As previously mentioned she shares arguably the best scene in the movie with Jeremy Renner. When Scarlett Witch is unexpectedly thrown into a completely surreal pitched battle between the Avengers and a horde of Xeroxed Ultrons she understandably goes a bit "deer in headlights" until Hawkeye shakes her out of her funk. An inferior script would have her hexing Ultron's drones like a pro but instead Josh Whedon uses this as a perfect opportunity to polish the patina on Scarlet Witch's character, giving Olsen a chance to shine in the process.  

CONS

• Even though he's convincingly animated and well-voiced by James Spader I didn't care for this particular take on Ultron. Notwithstanding the fact that Hank Pym isn't his daddy for simplicity's sake, I was genuinely irked by how human he was. Given Ultron's complete and total contempt for earth's meat-bag inhabitants, you think that he'd act in direct opposition to us, but nope, this evil sentient robot trades barbs, one-liners and quips with our heroes like Spider-Man. I kinda wish Whedon went with something a lot more mechanical, cold and scary, like a warped incarnation of the sort of superior A.I. that Ray Kurzweil has been inadvertently warning us all about. Ultron's fully-articulated mechanical face was also supremely distracting and I couldn't help but think how much cooler and creepier it would have been if they'd just gone with a fixed Darth Vader-style faceplate on a Terminator exoskeleton body. 
• I'm also pretty cheesed off that Ultron just kinda comes out of no-where. Sure, we had a few omens in Iron Man 3 but nothing to properly introduce the villain's origins. He just kinda stumbles onscreen within fifteen minutes and starts kicking ass. Sorry, but some kinda back story or build up really would have been appreciated here.
• The close-up, hyper-kinetic oil tanker rumble strays uncomfortably close to Michael Bay territory. 
• For the life of me I can't fathom why Bruce Banner thinks that a relationship with Natasha Romanov is verboten just because he can't give her the same Norman Rockwell-style future that Clint Barton unexpectedly enjoys. She's an ass-kicking secret agent for Chrissakes, do you really think that her ideal future consists of soiled diapers, soccer games and parent-teacher meetings? For such an otherwise smartly-written script, this is a pretty idiotic assumption. Hey, Bruce, maybe all she just wants to do is just hang out, get some frozen yogurt and bone you senseless? Isn't that enough?  
• Considering the events in the first season of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Captain America: Winter Soldier I have no idea how Nick Fury pulled that Helicarrier outta his ass. I'm sure it's probably explained somewhere, but as it happens in Age of Ultron it feels w-a-a-a-a-a-a-y too deus ex machina.  
• Compared to the first film, Whedon obviously had a lot more plates spinning in the air this time out. After watching Age of Ultron, I was left with the distinct impression that all Joss really wanted to do was tell a simple, cautionary tale about the hubris of genius intellect and the dangers inherent in blindly pursuing artificial intelligence without considering the ramifications. But since the Marvel Cinematic Universe has gotten so gosh darn top-heavy, he just couldn't do it. A quick word of caution to Kevin Feige: linking movies together like issues from two different comic book titles might seem like a good idea on paper, but left unchecked you could end up with mediocre groupthink products like Spider-Man 3 and X-Men: The Last Stand. About the only human being on earth who could possibly reconcile this is Joss Whedon, a dude who's written for comics, simultaneously produced two serial television shows set in the same universe and consistently exhibits a Rain Man-like aptitude for juggling advanced continuity. I firmly believe that if this movie had been in anyone else's hands it probably would have been a hot mess. Now that he's been driven from the series I sincerely hope that the whole thing doesn't collapse under the obligatory weight of interdependence. 

THE BOTTOM LINE

It's pretty clear to me that Joss Whedon was struggling a lot more this time out. The clarion-clear plot at the heart of that first Avengers movie has been complicated by a slavish dedication to past lore and stories that have yet to be told. By all accounts, Whedon lost a lot of sleep over this and that's why I'm tilting things firmly in his favor. When his original vision for the film inevitably comes to home video I'm confident that we'll get a richer, more coherent and satisfying story and he'll be soundly vindicated.

Whatever you think of the movie in its current form it should still be recognized as a unique achievement in his own right. Whereas the first Avengers was one of the first movies to capture the sheer, unmitigated, child-like glee of comic books and Captain America: Winter Soldier perfectly embodies the brain and social conscience of a graphic novel, Age of Ultron is the first film to successfully juggle the oft-convoluted concurrent story lines and lore found in your favorite three- color classics.

I'd say see Age of Ultron for the fun of it and then give it silent praise for the sheer audacity of the attempt.

Tilt: up


 

Movie Review-lette: "Big Top Pee-wee" by David Pretty

Every once in awhile I'll indulge in an insane game I call "Movie Review-lette", inviting social media friends to send me movie titles that they want me to review. Naturally a "be as kind or as cruel as you want" disclaimer always goes along with this. As soon as I have ten suggestions compiled I randomly draw one of 'em and then watch and review it.

The last time I did this an inordinately cruel bastard by the name of Josh Mullins suggested Big Top Pee-wee and I'll be damned if that's not what I drew. This little experiment scarred me so badly that I haven't done it since. Thanks, pal.

Anyway, here's the results of this autopsy:

 
I've never been the biggest fan of Paul Reubens' puerile alter ego but even I have to admit that the early goings of Big Top Pee-wee is actually a pretty funny and imaginative send-up of crusty and prudish small-town America. The very same crusty and prudish small town America that eventually crucified Reubens after his infamous porno theater bust back in 1991.

Unfortunately, the movie drags on for another regrettable, ill-conceived, painfully-protracted, utterly humorless sixty long minutes after it makes its point. *Ugh*

The story begins with our "hero" living a simple and idyllic farm life, surrounded by an Ark-load of animals that look like Stockholm Syndrome casualties from Micheal Jackson's Neverland ranch. In addition to his progressive commitment to living green, Monsieur Herman is also working on some pretty amazing scientific breakthroughs, including the development of colossal cantaloupes and a flourishing Hot Dog tree.

In spite of these visionary inventions and seemingly-peaceful way of life, Pee-wee is universally loathed by the geriatric townspeople who, for some odd reason, have gotten it into their heads that he's a bit "touched", no pun intended. Only his wholesome, corn-fed fiancé Winnie (Penelope Ann Miller) seems to have any affinity for him. I guess behind every great man there's a great...yada, yada, yada. 

After a tornado sweeps through town, Pee-wee emerges from his storm cellar the next morning to discover that a circus has (literally) blown into town. Their ringleader, Mace (played by a resigned-looking Kris Kristofferson) decides to mount a farm-themed show for the benefit of the nearby town, despite the fact that the locals seem to hate the circus and their bow-tied patron with the burning fire of a million suns. Additional "drama" follows when Pee-wee's engagement to Winnie is threatened by the beautiful and exotic Gina Piccolapupula (!) played by the genuinely-fetching Valeria Golino.

 
As I said, there's some fun to be had with the first third of the film and I really dug the Norman Rockwell-esque touches in the production design. As a thinly-veiled Pinky Lee-style caricature, Pee-wee generates laughs by contrasting with the cynical modern world, but here he's in his own element. The character isn't nearly as edgy or weird when he's surrounded by a talking pig named Vance, impossibly blue skies, a stylized 50's-era farm town, and a horde of freaky circus types.

There's also a bratty and acerbic side to Pee-wee, which is nicely at odds with his Leave It To Beaver-style appearance. The first half of the film really underscores this aspect of the character with some gloriously-subversive bits. The worm feeding, the "paparazzi", and Pee-wee's sex-starved propensity for leaping aboard his girlfriend Winnie without provocation is all pure gold. It's also great fun to see future method actor Benicio del Toro turn up in his big-screen debut as "Duke the Dog-Faced Boy".

Unfortunately the tent completely collapses when the script tries to explore love triangles, dead fathers (!), reconciliations and anything vaguely resembling a plot. To make matters worse it's almost as if Paul Reubens and co-writer George McGrath suddenly got bored with everything and typed THE END without tying up any of these loose ends. Finally,  for a movie called Big Top Pee-wee, it takes forever to get to the circus scenes and when it finally happens it's all over in a few short minutes. 

 
But perhaps that's all for the best. I'm told that the film's predecessor, Pee-wee's Big Adventure, is a much better movie thanks to the presence of visionary director Tim Burton. But the fact that Burton wasn't enough of a draw to make me seek out and watch  Big Adventure is pretty high testimony of how much I despised Pee-wee Herman, even during the character's "heyday". 

This is kind of a pity since you can detect fleeting hints of wit, parody and cheekiness in Big Top Pee-wee. It's a shame that Paul Reuben's career was completely obliterated by that porno theater bust, since I think he's got a lot of potential.

Sorry, I'm gotta end this review before I make a cheap "tent pole" joke. Whoops! Too late...

Tilt: down.

Movie Review: "Pacific Rim" by David Pretty

IN A NUTSHELL

Giant monsters from another dimension called Kaiju emerge from the Pacific ocean and proceed to wreck havoc like a pack of drunken frat boys. In response, humanity builds giant robots called Jaegers which they then use to punch the giant monsters in the face over and over again. Ron Perlman guest stars.

IN THE WHEELHOUSE

The target audience for Pacific Rim is:

1. People who really wanted the Transformers movies to be good.
2. Folks who own a disproportionate number of Godzilla toys.
3. Viewers who get all horned up over elaborate-looking mecha and imaginative special-effects.
4. Every kid on the planet under the age fifteen.
5. Every kid on the planet under the age of one-hundred and fifteen. 
6. Anyone who likes a good action movie and doesn't want to get bogged down with an excessive amount of plotting. Last year's Godzilla movie, I'm looking in your direction.

 "Wha...Godzilla? Yo, fuck that overgrown iguana!"

PROS

• THE PREMISE C'mon it's giant robots beating the shit out of giant monsters, what more can you ask for? Well, a decent execution, I suppose, which brings me to...
• THE EXECUTION A lesser film-maker could easily have botched up this amazing high concept. In fact, they already have. But Pacific Rim actually does what it says on the tin! Partly because of...
• THE DESIGN Credit supervising art directors Elinor Rose Galbraith and Richard L. Johnson as well as production designers Andrew Neskoromny and Carol Spier for coming up with the most detailed and practical-looking mecha-porn I've ever seen in a modern motion picture. And it's not all just simulated with special-effects, for example the Jaeger cockpit is a real, practical. gimbal-controlled set which looks both well-worn and fully-functional thanks to set decorator Peter P. Nicolakakos. The Bone Slums in Hong Kong are a rain-soaked, neon-reflective riot of color which one can either take as an homage to Blade Runner or a complete rip-off. Add in some terrific costume design by Kate Hawley and you've got yourself a visual stunner.
• IDRIS ELBA Even though he has to deliver a lot of cliché *slash* utilitarian dialogue as Stacker Pentecost (!), he serves it up with so much conviction and aplomb that you end up buying it for the most part. In the hands of anyone else, his final INSPIRATIONAL SPEECH probably would have come off as completely hackneyed and giggle-inducing but somehow he manages to give those tired, pedantic words a modicum of heft. 
• ESPECIALLY EFFECTIVE SPECIAL EFFECTS  Hey, kids, remember back in the day when you'd come out of a theater saying stuff like "Wow, that movie sure did have some neat-o special-effects!"  Nowadays that's pretty much a given, like seeing 3D graphics in a video game. But I was actually suitably impressed several times while watching Pacific Rim. It's jarring enough seeing giant, photo-realistic monsters wrestling with giant, photo-realistic robots but when you add in some gloriously-destructible environments and the incessant rain, the visuals become very impressive. Now, it's probably quite likely that the rain is there to fudge the details but to this untrained eye the particle effects look absolutely incredible.
• THE KAIJU  Talented folks such as Wayne Barlowe, Oscar Chichoni, Ruiz Velasco, David Meng and Simon Lee created a virtual menagerie of imaginative creatures. There's, like, an axe-headed dude, one with a battering ram for a head, a shark-headed guy, a big, bulky gorilla-like goon, another one with two horns and a flail-tail, a crocodilian specimen, and one big-ass Cthulhu-esque motherfucker. Not only is each one distinctly different in appearance, but each one seems to have their own personality, mannerisms and fighting techniques. The digital effects wizards did a fine job turning these on-paper designs into something vicious, scary and / or icky. Oh, and the Jaegers are pretty cool too, I guess. 
• THE DIRECTION del Toro and cinematographer Guillermo Navarro do a fine job communicating the sheer size and scale of these giant constructs and their monstrous opponents, bringing to mind Steven Spielberg's War of the Worlds remake back in 2005. del Toro throws in plenty of amusing little throwaway touches, such as when Gipsy Danger makes a concerted effort to clear the overpass instead of just crashing right through it. And then there's the scene in which Gipsy punches through an office building and barely connects with one of those metal ball executive toys, setting it into perpetual motion. Overall, del Toro serves up a nice balance between world-building, character development and action beats.
• GETTING BURN'ED  I've been watching actor Burn Gorman ever since he made a terrible first impression as Owen Harper on Torchwood. Via a combination of good writing and a series of increasingly-nuanced performances he managed to take what was initially a very acerbic and borderline-repellent character and make me give a damn about him in the end. Here he plays the tightly-wound, socially retarded, shut-in scientist Dr. Herman Gottlieb. Now I don't know if the decision to deliver every single one of his lines in a hyperactive, twitchy, over-the-top performance was his idea or del Toro's but it actually works in the context of all the other madness going on. I guess when you're starring in a movie about giant robots and monsters beating the tar out of each other you gotta do some kee-razy shit to get noticed.
• RON MOTHERFUCKING PERLMAN  Let's face it, the odds of this dude showing up in a del Toro movie is actually pretty good, but when he unexpected popped I clapped my hands, bounced up and down in my seat and may or may not have uttered a "SQUEE!!!"-like noise. Decked out in a brocade pimp suit, gold wing-tipped shoes, James Bond villain-style chompers and round-framed sunglasses with leather blinders, Perlman cuts a mean form as black-market Kaiju organ dealer Hannibal Chau. Things get even better when he reveals the origin of his name: "I took it from, uh, my favorite historical character and my second-favorite Szechuan restaurant in Brooklyn." During the precious few scenes he's in, Perlman stomps around, crankily spitting out his lines and threatening to gill Charlie Day with a butterfly knife, which makes him okay in my book. There's a lot of stock characters in Pacific Rim, but thanks to Ron Perlman, Hannibal Chau isn't one of them.
• THE ACTION SEQUENCES  Between Crimson Typhoon's "Thunder Cloud Formation", Gipsy's rocket-propelled fist / plasma cannon / sword gizmos, as well as the unconventional use of an oil tanker as a bludgeoning device, the battle scenes are pure, creative, wanton smashery at its best. 

 CONS

• PRETTY BUT DUMB Clearly Pacific Rim's script wheel is turning, but the hamster is completely dead. What's the purpose of the Jaeger heads separating from the bodies? If technology is so advanced that we can build giant robots, why can't they make work on the Wall of Life slightly less hazardous or, for that matter, put pilots in radiation-resistant suits? Why are the drift comparability / neural handshake tests conducted in a live fire environment? Why don't the fail-safes work? What exactly makes Raleigh and Stacker so awesome that they can pilot a Jaeger by themselves? And the number one most baffling question: why did it take so goddamn long to deploy that freakin' sword?!?  
• CATEGORY FIVE CLICHES   Our COCKY BUT INHUMANLY SKILLED HERO thumbs his nose one too many times at THE RULES, resulting in PERSONAL TRAGEDY. Now WASHED UP he vows NEVER TO FLY AGAIN, forcing his SUPERIOR OFFICER / MENTOR to lure him back with one final chance to SALVAGE HIS HONOR. His UNWAVERING FAITH in his SKILLED BUT UNTESTED NEW PARTNER and HIS OWN CHECKERED PAST causes a conflict with a COCKSURE YOUNG RIVAL and his SUPERIOR OFFICER / MENTOR. Eventually our hero LEARNS TO LIVE WITH HIS PAST, TEMPER HIS EGO, and WORK AS A TEAM, resulting in VINDICATION and, ultimately, PERSONAL TRIUMPH. 
• THE DIALOG-*UGH*   Man, there is some boring, color-by-numbers, perfunctory dialogue on display here. Robert Kazinsky's lame construction worker slam against Raleigh ("Oh, that's great. I mean, that's really useful. You know, we get into a fight you can build our way out of there, hey, Ray?") and Stacker's uninspired reaction to being grabbed by his protege ("One: don't you ever touch me again. Two: don't you ever touch me again.") are just two of the goofier lines in the film. The script definitely could have benefited from a quick pass by a dialogue-savvy writer. 

M'EH

• HIT AND MISS PERFS  Charlie Hunnam is a likeable enough as an everyman but he spends large tracts of screen time wearing a facial expression that brings an abused puppy to mind. Rinko Kikuchi as Mako Mori has some memorable flashes of strength, conviction and perseverance but often comes across as a wilting non-entity. Charlie Day's "rock-star" scientist Dr. Newton Geiszler is meant to be a protagonist but he often comes off as loud, boorish and gratingly annoying. Max Martini and Robert Kazinsky really can't be slighted as the Australian father-son pilot team of Striker Eureka since their characters, as written, are pretty wafer-thin. After hearing that del Toro cut nearly an hour out of the film's run time, I'm tempted to let this slide a little bit.

 

THE BOTTOM LINE

Pacific Rim is a fun action romp and the one-hundred and thirty minute run time just flies by. Sure, deeper characters, better dialogue and a more original plot would have made the film a more satisfying experience, but it's clear to see that the project is the result of a sincere love of the genre and is completely devoid of any weighty pretension.

I say grab some popcorn, put your brain on idle and prepare to have your teeth rattled.  

 Tilt: up.