Month: July 2008

Sucked

I should have posted on Dark Knight and schooled Arnab, but instead I watched other things. The Last Winter was an indie horror about global warming, and Larry Fessenden is an interesting director, and it had a good cast, and it mostly sucked. So I tried Six Reasons Why, a Canadian indie that Netflix convinced me was something I’d like, and it has Colm Feore in it, and was a post-apocalyptic Western thingy shot on about a 48 cents per day budget. And you can see almost every penny in it. Sucked. Sucked, sucked, sucked.

So then I watched about 45 minutes of Blades of Glory, which didn’t suck, but wasn’t good. And Netflix wouldn’t send me Spaced or Mad Men, and that, too, sucked.

The Dark Knight

I’m still kind of reeling, stunned by this, but I’ll jump out on the limb and assert (and later reflect and expand upon the assertion): this is the best American pop/genre film since Silence of the Lambs.

How’s that for pumping up your expectations? More crazy-ass assertions to come on the centrality of anarchy and disorder to great American pop . . .

Hellboy II: The Golden Army

I’ve been expecting someone to post on this all week. Since no one has, I’ll clear the decks before the Dark Knight comments appear (sadly I’m in Europe, where it doesn’t open for another week or so, so I’m looking forward to hearing your reactions). I was very enthusiastic about the second Hellboy right after watching it; a week on and I’m a little less enthralled. Still, this is the most visually inventive and lush movie I have seen in a long time. Setting aside plot, character and dialogue, the movie is worth watching just for the endless delight of its imagery. There is a forest god straight out Princess Monokoke, a bustling troll market that looks better than anything George Lucas managed, a character who is entirely gaseous, and a massive mechanical army, complete with cogs and clockwork machinery.

The movie itself is perfectly fine. The leads play off each other well, with Selma Blair particularly good. There is one wonderful scene involving a Barry Manilow song. But you watch this primarily to drink in the imagination of Guillermo del Toro.

On the fundamental ridiculousness of a certain kind of horror film

You’ve got to wonder how certain pitch meetings ever closed the deal. Imagine sitting down with this Irish fellow, a hot young prospect in an industry starting to stretch its global legs and move past the endless green hills & spirited lasses & the troubles & gnarled-wise-drunken old men & pubs of romanticized Eire. He says he’s got this crackin’ idea for horror (horror? in Irish film? feck yeah!), feeding on the European terrors of gen mod. “Great,” says the Film Board, “jes great. So what’s the pitch?”

Cows. Yeah, no, I know what you’re thinking, but hear me out. End of meeting. Except… Continue reading On the fundamental ridiculousness of a certain kind of horror film

romulus, my father

biopics are tricky. they can go on and on, and always teeter on the edge of lacking a narrative focus. life, of course, has no narrative focus whatsoever, which is why we invented stories. this is a story of personal and familial disintegration set in the 40s or 50s on the australian frontier. the protagonists are middle european immigrants. romulus, playes by eric bana, is a loving father and doting husband with a boyish face and an appropriately indomitable work ethic. he’s a generous and forgiving man who always does the right thing and will captivate you. franka potente plays his wayward wife, a woman who cannot stay away from relationship with other men but is welcomed at the farm with open arms whenever she makes her way back. raimond is their only son, a 9 year old with blue eyes and a terribly earnest-sweet face whom the first-time director chose wisely to make the moral and psychological center of the film. the actor is terrific. he portrays the easy joyfulness and the dead seriousness of childhood with heartbreaking facility. Continue reading romulus, my father

Hancock

This is a slight but nevertheless enjoyable July 4th outing for Will Smith. I assume you have all seen the previews, so the basic plot setup requires little explanation. The movie divides neatly into three 30 minute segments. First segment has Smith, as John Hancock, the foul-mouthed, intemperate superhero. He drinks, swears, appears to have been sniffing coke, and does a pretty miserable job of saving the citizens of LA. Second segment sees Hancock persuaded by Ray, a mild-mannered media relations guy (Jason Bateman), to clean himself up, wear a nifty leather costume, and generally endear himself to the police and populace. The third segment is much darker, involves the origin story, and brings Ray’s wife, played by Charlize Theron center stage. Revealing any of that segment would require spoilers so I’ll wait until someone else sees the movie. Continue reading Hancock