Raise your hands: Who thought that they really needed to make a sequel to the Ben Stiller comedy "Night at the Museum"?
I didn't think so.
Some sequels are made because the audience is so in love with the characters that they want to know what happens next to them. OK, that hasn't been true since "After The Thin Man," but at least some sequels can fake being made to satisfy the audience's desire to see more of the characters. And then there is "Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian."
The same cast and crew returns with essentially the same idea, only bigger -- and, alas, lamer. Stiller is back in a museum where the exhibits come to life, only this time it is the Smithsonian Institution, the largest museum in the world. But bigger does not mean funnier. In this case, it appears only to mean busier.
Writers Robert Ben Garant and Thomas Lennon, who also wrote the first script, set up the story so that exhibits representing the forces of good wind up fighting forces representing the forces of evil, who want to take over the world, etc. Oddly, they keep the forces of good boxed up in a trailer for a majority of the movie, leaving the fight mostly in the hands of Stiller's character Larry and Amelia Earhart -- one of the exhibits that has come to life.
The usually wonderful Amy Adams co-stars as the plucky, spunky, adventure-loving Earhart, and for perhaps the first time in her career she sounds a singularly sour note. It's not just that the part is poorly written (she communicates almost entirely in 1920s slang, and not always correctly), it is that she doesn't believe the character at all. And neither do we, frankly. She and Stiller display zero chemistry, which sometimes happens, but in this case one wonders if she even wanted to be on the set.
On the other hand, Stiller uncharacteristically shows a few moments of humor. In general, these are unimpressed reactions to other characters' pretensions or excesses, but this is a comedic trait he has apparently perfected. Along with his reactions, a small handful of funny moments can be found from some of the other characters being pretentious or excessive, particularly Hank Azaria's evil Egyptian emperor.
But the good bits number no more than a few in an uninspired film. Perhaps the film is so uninspired because nobody wanted the sequel, anyway.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
"Hangover" is better than two aspirin
So many movie makers make the mistake of filming a wild party, incorrectly assuming that if the characters are having fun so will the audience.
With a few exceptions (the Christmas party in "The Apartment" comes to mind), it doesn't work that way.
A better idea is to film the aftermath of a wild party -- the smoldering furniture, the chicken strutting around the luxury hotel suite, the unexplained baby in the closet.
All these things, and much, much more, follow in the wake of an epic Las Vegas bachelor's party in the often-hilarious comedy "The Hangover." As one character says while hoisting the first Jagermeister of the evening, it will be a night they will never forget.
But they do, courtesy of an unexpected dose of Rohypnol, the date-rape drug. The next morning, the three friends wake up in a hotel room in extreme distress and they try to remember what happened the night before. They also try to locate the fourth friend, who is missing and who is due to be married in 24 hours.
Losing a groom is funnier than losing a car, the central device in the similarly themed "Dude, Where's My Car?" and it is much funnier than killing a prostitute, the central device in the identically themed "Very Bad Things." There is still a bit of a sense of danger, in that the groom could be dead, but the fun lies in finding out what happened.
Leading us on this merry, R-rated ride are the three intended groomsmen, who hope to let what happened in Vegas stay there. Schoolteacher Phil is the most sensible of the group, though that is relative; he is played by Bradley Cooper of "He's Just Not That Into You," who looks like a young Ralph Fiennes. Dentist Stu, played by Ed Helms of "The Daily Show," is saddled with a shrewish and not always faithful girlfriend (Rachel Harris). And the reliable comedy relief is provided by Alan, played by Zach Galifianakis, who is reminiscent of Steve Zahn, only funny.
The director is Todd Phillips, of "Old School," "Starsky and Hutch" (ouch!) and "School for Scandal" (oof!). This time out, he quickly finds the right tone, mixing over-the-top action with occasional sprinklings of subtlety, his palette brightened by the sun and colored with neon at night. However, he does allow the pace to flag for several scenes toward the end; the premise is just not strong enough to sustain a movie's full length.
But there is plenty of laughter to be found before and after this stretch. It's not often you can say this, but this "Hangover" is a good time.
With a few exceptions (the Christmas party in "The Apartment" comes to mind), it doesn't work that way.
A better idea is to film the aftermath of a wild party -- the smoldering furniture, the chicken strutting around the luxury hotel suite, the unexplained baby in the closet.
All these things, and much, much more, follow in the wake of an epic Las Vegas bachelor's party in the often-hilarious comedy "The Hangover." As one character says while hoisting the first Jagermeister of the evening, it will be a night they will never forget.
But they do, courtesy of an unexpected dose of Rohypnol, the date-rape drug. The next morning, the three friends wake up in a hotel room in extreme distress and they try to remember what happened the night before. They also try to locate the fourth friend, who is missing and who is due to be married in 24 hours.
Losing a groom is funnier than losing a car, the central device in the similarly themed "Dude, Where's My Car?" and it is much funnier than killing a prostitute, the central device in the identically themed "Very Bad Things." There is still a bit of a sense of danger, in that the groom could be dead, but the fun lies in finding out what happened.
Leading us on this merry, R-rated ride are the three intended groomsmen, who hope to let what happened in Vegas stay there. Schoolteacher Phil is the most sensible of the group, though that is relative; he is played by Bradley Cooper of "He's Just Not That Into You," who looks like a young Ralph Fiennes. Dentist Stu, played by Ed Helms of "The Daily Show," is saddled with a shrewish and not always faithful girlfriend (Rachel Harris). And the reliable comedy relief is provided by Alan, played by Zach Galifianakis, who is reminiscent of Steve Zahn, only funny.
The director is Todd Phillips, of "Old School," "Starsky and Hutch" (ouch!) and "School for Scandal" (oof!). This time out, he quickly finds the right tone, mixing over-the-top action with occasional sprinklings of subtlety, his palette brightened by the sun and colored with neon at night. However, he does allow the pace to flag for several scenes toward the end; the premise is just not strong enough to sustain a movie's full length.
But there is plenty of laughter to be found before and after this stretch. It's not often you can say this, but this "Hangover" is a good time.
Terminate it, already
One man's cool is another man's stupid.
A lot of the people who see "Terminator Salvation" will think it is cool, the coolest and most awesomest movie ever -- or at least since "Star Trek" came out two weeks ago. The rest of us, however, will think it's kind of...stupid.
As seems to be the case with every blockbuster these days -- or at least since it became relatively easy to create special effects on a computer -- the difference comes down to a matter of taste and tolerance. If you're looking for gigantic explosions, rapidly edited action scenes and fast-moving vehicles, it is cool. If you're looking for a coherent story, character development, logic or adherence to even one law of physics, well, look elsewhere.
Why is the original "Terminator" movie so much fun? Mainly, it is because of the irresistible premise, with its time travel, its sense of nobility and its time-warp romance. The unstoppable, single-minded villain made an exciting antagonist, adding a sense of hopelessness to the human heroes' cause. An unfeeling, unthinking, impossibly strong machine was the perfect role for Arnold Schwarzenegger, whose acting had always been a bit robotic anyway, and Linda Hamilton (herself no great actress) projected both a sexy softness and a strength.
The new movie, which is the fourth in the series, has none of these qualities. All it has going for it are memories of the first film, which it occasionally nudges with a few clever references.
Christian Bale, who may be too serious an actor for such a silly role, stars as John Connor, the man of the future who we know will be a leader (but not the leader) of the rebellion against the murderous machines that have taken over the world. He is looking for the teen he needs to send back into the past to be his father. It makes sense if you saw the first movie.
Meanwhile, a mystery man with a mission comes out of the desert, ignorant of the world-wide war going on and uncertain about the year. He joins up with the teen that John Connor is looking for, played by Anton Yelchin, who also plays Sulu in "Star Trek."
John D. Brancato and Michael Ferris have written some truly dismal movies in the past, including "Primeval," "Catwoman," "The Net" and "Into the Sun," which starred Anthony Michael Hall as a fighter pilot. Somehow, they also managed to write the intriguing and provocative "The Game," but "Terminator Salvation" is more Catwomany than Gamey. To their credit, though, they did come up with one nifty plot twist. Because this twist comes in the midst of a thrilling, extended climactic battle scene, the audience is likely to leave the theater thinking the movie is better than it actually is.
An early helicopter take-off and crash is also particularly well handled, but here is the thing: It is one of two helicopter crashes John Connor survives. This fact tells us that the writers ran out of new ideas (note that the human characters repeatedly end their confrontations or showdowns when a machine conveniently shows up and starts killing people). It also demonstrates the characters' bizarre imperviousness to injury.
The director is McG, who obviously fancies himself a visual stylist. And he pulls out all the tiresome visual stylings we have come to expect from such visionaries: colored lights, flashing lights, colored flashing lights, smoke, steam, flames, sparks, water, broken glass. The funny thing about these visual stylists is they are still entranced by the same cliches that have been used since 1982.
But what do you expect from a director who calls himself McG? He probably thinks the name is cool. I think it's stupid.
A lot of the people who see "Terminator Salvation" will think it is cool, the coolest and most awesomest movie ever -- or at least since "Star Trek" came out two weeks ago. The rest of us, however, will think it's kind of...stupid.
As seems to be the case with every blockbuster these days -- or at least since it became relatively easy to create special effects on a computer -- the difference comes down to a matter of taste and tolerance. If you're looking for gigantic explosions, rapidly edited action scenes and fast-moving vehicles, it is cool. If you're looking for a coherent story, character development, logic or adherence to even one law of physics, well, look elsewhere.
Why is the original "Terminator" movie so much fun? Mainly, it is because of the irresistible premise, with its time travel, its sense of nobility and its time-warp romance. The unstoppable, single-minded villain made an exciting antagonist, adding a sense of hopelessness to the human heroes' cause. An unfeeling, unthinking, impossibly strong machine was the perfect role for Arnold Schwarzenegger, whose acting had always been a bit robotic anyway, and Linda Hamilton (herself no great actress) projected both a sexy softness and a strength.
The new movie, which is the fourth in the series, has none of these qualities. All it has going for it are memories of the first film, which it occasionally nudges with a few clever references.
Christian Bale, who may be too serious an actor for such a silly role, stars as John Connor, the man of the future who we know will be a leader (but not the leader) of the rebellion against the murderous machines that have taken over the world. He is looking for the teen he needs to send back into the past to be his father. It makes sense if you saw the first movie.
Meanwhile, a mystery man with a mission comes out of the desert, ignorant of the world-wide war going on and uncertain about the year. He joins up with the teen that John Connor is looking for, played by Anton Yelchin, who also plays Sulu in "Star Trek."
John D. Brancato and Michael Ferris have written some truly dismal movies in the past, including "Primeval," "Catwoman," "The Net" and "Into the Sun," which starred Anthony Michael Hall as a fighter pilot. Somehow, they also managed to write the intriguing and provocative "The Game," but "Terminator Salvation" is more Catwomany than Gamey. To their credit, though, they did come up with one nifty plot twist. Because this twist comes in the midst of a thrilling, extended climactic battle scene, the audience is likely to leave the theater thinking the movie is better than it actually is.
An early helicopter take-off and crash is also particularly well handled, but here is the thing: It is one of two helicopter crashes John Connor survives. This fact tells us that the writers ran out of new ideas (note that the human characters repeatedly end their confrontations or showdowns when a machine conveniently shows up and starts killing people). It also demonstrates the characters' bizarre imperviousness to injury.
The director is McG, who obviously fancies himself a visual stylist. And he pulls out all the tiresome visual stylings we have come to expect from such visionaries: colored lights, flashing lights, colored flashing lights, smoke, steam, flames, sparks, water, broken glass. The funny thing about these visual stylists is they are still entranced by the same cliches that have been used since 1982.
But what do you expect from a director who calls himself McG? He probably thinks the name is cool. I think it's stupid.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
References amok
Comedy scholars have been debating the question for centuries: What makes things funny? Is it merely a well-sprung surprise? Does it have to involve someone else's sudden pain or embarrassment? Is it simply an appreciation for cleverness, as in wordplay?
With "Dance Flick," we now know definitively what comedy is not: It is not just a string of references to other movies.
Accomplished parodies such as "Airplane!" "Young Frankenstein" and "Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story" poke fun at an identifiable genre of movies. They build their jokes on the genre's conventions, making light of its unique cliches. The story that they tell is an exaggerated version of the genre's shared plotlines.
But the genre being parodied in "Dance Flick" is not well defined. What it wants us to think of as dance-film movies have little in common except young people sharing a love of dance. And that is why the story of "Dance Flick" is so ill-considered, when it has a story. The movies it is trying to skewer do not share enough traits to form a coherent story.
The main source for the plot, when it has a plot, is "Save the Last Dance," an effective and enjoyable little film from eight years ago that is neither notorious enough nor awful enough to deserve a parody. And that is the main problem with the film: It has no reason to exist.
The other main problem is that, with nothing particular to make fun of, the filmmakers resort to making an endless stream of references to other movies. Oh, look, that reference is to "Dreamgirls." Oh, goody, that reference is to "Hairspray." Oh, hurrah, that reference is to "Fame" and that one is to "Ray" and that one is to "High School Musical" and that one is to "Stomp the Yard" and that one is to "Superbad" and that one is to "Twilight," which has nothing to do with dance. It is as if the filmmakers stopped trying to be funny and just wanted to see how many references the audience could catch.
The writers are Keenan Ivory, Shawn, Marlon, Craig and Damien Dante Wayans. Their script comes across as if no joke that was ever proposed was discarded, perhaps because the writers did not want to hurt the feelings of anyone in the family. Maybe that is also why 10 actors named Wayans are in the cast, which probably sets some sort of record.
Twenty-one years ago, one permutation of Wayanses made the hilarious parody "I'm Gonna Git You Sucka," and in 2000 a different permutation made "Scary Movie," which had more than its share of funny moments. But the family as a whole has lost what it once had that allowed it to make funny movies. It has lost its discipline and its focus. As a result, "Dance Flick" is a mess.
With "Dance Flick," we now know definitively what comedy is not: It is not just a string of references to other movies.
Accomplished parodies such as "Airplane!" "Young Frankenstein" and "Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story" poke fun at an identifiable genre of movies. They build their jokes on the genre's conventions, making light of its unique cliches. The story that they tell is an exaggerated version of the genre's shared plotlines.
But the genre being parodied in "Dance Flick" is not well defined. What it wants us to think of as dance-film movies have little in common except young people sharing a love of dance. And that is why the story of "Dance Flick" is so ill-considered, when it has a story. The movies it is trying to skewer do not share enough traits to form a coherent story.
The main source for the plot, when it has a plot, is "Save the Last Dance," an effective and enjoyable little film from eight years ago that is neither notorious enough nor awful enough to deserve a parody. And that is the main problem with the film: It has no reason to exist.
The other main problem is that, with nothing particular to make fun of, the filmmakers resort to making an endless stream of references to other movies. Oh, look, that reference is to "Dreamgirls." Oh, goody, that reference is to "Hairspray." Oh, hurrah, that reference is to "Fame" and that one is to "Ray" and that one is to "High School Musical" and that one is to "Stomp the Yard" and that one is to "Superbad" and that one is to "Twilight," which has nothing to do with dance. It is as if the filmmakers stopped trying to be funny and just wanted to see how many references the audience could catch.
The writers are Keenan Ivory, Shawn, Marlon, Craig and Damien Dante Wayans. Their script comes across as if no joke that was ever proposed was discarded, perhaps because the writers did not want to hurt the feelings of anyone in the family. Maybe that is also why 10 actors named Wayans are in the cast, which probably sets some sort of record.
Twenty-one years ago, one permutation of Wayanses made the hilarious parody "I'm Gonna Git You Sucka," and in 2000 a different permutation made "Scary Movie," which had more than its share of funny moments. But the family as a whole has lost what it once had that allowed it to make funny movies. It has lost its discipline and its focus. As a result, "Dance Flick" is a mess.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
More Demon than Angel
A curious sound fills the theater during the parachute scene of "Angels & Demons." It's the sound of 300 people in the audience simultaneously slapping their foreheads in disbelief.
Even those who had been enjoying the movie until that point will be stunned by just how ludicrous the scene is. Others will think the film is silly anyway, and will find the scene merely fits in with the rest of the plot.
But even so, they'll find the scene unutterably absurd.
Though the book it is based on was written first and takes place first, the movie "Angels & Demons" is a sequel to "The DaVinci Code," and in many ways is similar. It tells of a bizarre and ridiculous conspiracy involving the Catholic Church, centuries of history and the main character following clues that don't need to be there.
This time, the conspiracy involves the Illuminati, of all people. Last time it was the Knights Templar. What's next, the Trilateral Commission?
With a new pope about to be elected, bad guys have kidnapped four prominent members of the College of Cardinals. At the same time, and in what would be a staggering coincidence in any other work, scientists have created the largest-ever sample of anti-matter, which is promptly stolen.
The bad guys in the Illuminati then say they will kill one cardinal per hour and then destroy the Vatican (and a good portion of Rome) by allowing the anti-matter to touch matter.
The only man who can stop them is Robert Langdon, played once again by Tom Hanks. Langdon is a specialist in symbols, and the kidnappers leave behind a symbol of the Illuminati, so Langdon is called because...um...er...well, there is no good reason why he is called. But it's a good thing he is, because only he can figure out the clues leading to where the cardinals will be killed, and ultimately to where the anti-matter is ready to go off.
And why did the Illuminati leave behind these clues? Um, well, there's really no good reason for that, either, except to prove they're the Illuminati, and that's the kind of thing the Illuminati do.
This film's Audrey Tautou is Ayelet Zurer, who plays a physicist who, through a couple of bouts of great good fortune, happens to be fluent in Latin and is versed in the finer points of medical and forensic esoterica. These unrelated skills sure come in handy, though she has little else to do in the plot.
Ron Howard directs at a blistering pace in an apparent effort to keep the audience from thinking too hard about what is happening, or why. But even the furious activity cannot hide the many flaws in logic, the way characters appear when they are most needed, the way time repeatedly seems to stand still, and especially that parachute scene.
Nothing can hide the problems with the parachute scene.
Even those who had been enjoying the movie until that point will be stunned by just how ludicrous the scene is. Others will think the film is silly anyway, and will find the scene merely fits in with the rest of the plot.
But even so, they'll find the scene unutterably absurd.
Though the book it is based on was written first and takes place first, the movie "Angels & Demons" is a sequel to "The DaVinci Code," and in many ways is similar. It tells of a bizarre and ridiculous conspiracy involving the Catholic Church, centuries of history and the main character following clues that don't need to be there.
This time, the conspiracy involves the Illuminati, of all people. Last time it was the Knights Templar. What's next, the Trilateral Commission?
With a new pope about to be elected, bad guys have kidnapped four prominent members of the College of Cardinals. At the same time, and in what would be a staggering coincidence in any other work, scientists have created the largest-ever sample of anti-matter, which is promptly stolen.
The bad guys in the Illuminati then say they will kill one cardinal per hour and then destroy the Vatican (and a good portion of Rome) by allowing the anti-matter to touch matter.
The only man who can stop them is Robert Langdon, played once again by Tom Hanks. Langdon is a specialist in symbols, and the kidnappers leave behind a symbol of the Illuminati, so Langdon is called because...um...er...well, there is no good reason why he is called. But it's a good thing he is, because only he can figure out the clues leading to where the cardinals will be killed, and ultimately to where the anti-matter is ready to go off.
And why did the Illuminati leave behind these clues? Um, well, there's really no good reason for that, either, except to prove they're the Illuminati, and that's the kind of thing the Illuminati do.
This film's Audrey Tautou is Ayelet Zurer, who plays a physicist who, through a couple of bouts of great good fortune, happens to be fluent in Latin and is versed in the finer points of medical and forensic esoterica. These unrelated skills sure come in handy, though she has little else to do in the plot.
Ron Howard directs at a blistering pace in an apparent effort to keep the audience from thinking too hard about what is happening, or why. But even the furious activity cannot hide the many flaws in logic, the way characters appear when they are most needed, the way time repeatedly seems to stand still, and especially that parachute scene.
Nothing can hide the problems with the parachute scene.
Friday, May 8, 2009
"Star Trek" -- Logical
Many of the recent spate of origins stories have been so fixated on the mythology of the characters that they have forgotten the most important thing: that the audience (other than the rabid fanboys) is there to see a story.
But the new "Star Trek" gets it right. It boldly goes where, say, "Batman Begins" does not -- it introduces the characters, sets up the conflict that will be resolved in later episodes and it tells a complete story with a beginning, a middle and an end. You can enjoy the new "Star Trek" without ever seeing any of the other movies or TV shows. And yet, it still satisfies the geeky need of some people to learn where James Tiberius Kirk got his middle name.
And if you are one of those people who needs to know where James Tiberius Kirk got his middle name, perhaps you might want to think about joining the real world soon.
Credit goes to director J.J. Abrams (of "Lost" and other water-cooler shows) and writers Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman (of "Transformers) for keeping focused. Their film is sometimes exciting, sometimes gripping, sometimes funny and sometimes emotionally satisfying. It is true that these scenes sometimes alternate with scenes that are considerably less interesting, but the overall effect is definitely positive.
Blue-eyed, thick-lipped Chris Pine stars as the young James T. Kirk, and his acting is, shall we say, Shatnerian. Young Kirk is a rebel, but he'll be understood; he was born during an evacuation of a starship heroically commanded by his father. As a boy, he takes a classic Corvette and drives it off a cliff -- and why people keep building these movie roads straight to the edge of cliffs, I'll never know. As a young man, he becomes involved in drunken bar fights. One of these fights leads him to being guilted into joining the Starfleet Academy ("Your father was captain of a starship for 12 minutes. In that time, he saved 800 lives, including your mother's and yours. I dare you to do better").
At the Academy, he meets and instantly dislikes the stuffy Vulcan Spock (Zachary Quinto, who is himself a little bit Nimoyish). He also meets most of the people who will later be his crew: Zoe Saldana as Uhuru, John Cho as Sulu, Karl Urban as Bones and Anton Yelchin as Chekhov, whose Russian accent is not initially understood by the computer. Only late in the film does Simon Pegg show up as Scotty, bringing with him a blast of fresh air. He's there for comic relief, and who does comedy better than Pegg?
Inevitably, the film comes with a huge budget for special effects, and this time the money is mostly well spent. The movie is a spectacle, with spaceships crashing into each other, planets imploding and even many of the sets created on a computer. Perhaps most impressive, from a technical standpoint, is a scene in which the iconic U.S.S. Enterprise weaves its way through a still-fresh debris field.
Old-school fans will be pleased to note that the camera shakes when the ship is attacked.
The film does suffer from one staggeringly unlikely coincidence and a bit too much backstory in a film that is, in itself, backstory. But it has enough heft, and the characters drawn well enough, that it can appeal to "Star Trek" fans and casual viewers alike.
But the new "Star Trek" gets it right. It boldly goes where, say, "Batman Begins" does not -- it introduces the characters, sets up the conflict that will be resolved in later episodes and it tells a complete story with a beginning, a middle and an end. You can enjoy the new "Star Trek" without ever seeing any of the other movies or TV shows. And yet, it still satisfies the geeky need of some people to learn where James Tiberius Kirk got his middle name.
And if you are one of those people who needs to know where James Tiberius Kirk got his middle name, perhaps you might want to think about joining the real world soon.
Credit goes to director J.J. Abrams (of "Lost" and other water-cooler shows) and writers Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman (of "Transformers) for keeping focused. Their film is sometimes exciting, sometimes gripping, sometimes funny and sometimes emotionally satisfying. It is true that these scenes sometimes alternate with scenes that are considerably less interesting, but the overall effect is definitely positive.
Blue-eyed, thick-lipped Chris Pine stars as the young James T. Kirk, and his acting is, shall we say, Shatnerian. Young Kirk is a rebel, but he'll be understood; he was born during an evacuation of a starship heroically commanded by his father. As a boy, he takes a classic Corvette and drives it off a cliff -- and why people keep building these movie roads straight to the edge of cliffs, I'll never know. As a young man, he becomes involved in drunken bar fights. One of these fights leads him to being guilted into joining the Starfleet Academy ("Your father was captain of a starship for 12 minutes. In that time, he saved 800 lives, including your mother's and yours. I dare you to do better").
At the Academy, he meets and instantly dislikes the stuffy Vulcan Spock (Zachary Quinto, who is himself a little bit Nimoyish). He also meets most of the people who will later be his crew: Zoe Saldana as Uhuru, John Cho as Sulu, Karl Urban as Bones and Anton Yelchin as Chekhov, whose Russian accent is not initially understood by the computer. Only late in the film does Simon Pegg show up as Scotty, bringing with him a blast of fresh air. He's there for comic relief, and who does comedy better than Pegg?
Inevitably, the film comes with a huge budget for special effects, and this time the money is mostly well spent. The movie is a spectacle, with spaceships crashing into each other, planets imploding and even many of the sets created on a computer. Perhaps most impressive, from a technical standpoint, is a scene in which the iconic U.S.S. Enterprise weaves its way through a still-fresh debris field.
Old-school fans will be pleased to note that the camera shakes when the ship is attacked.
The film does suffer from one staggeringly unlikely coincidence and a bit too much backstory in a film that is, in itself, backstory. But it has enough heft, and the characters drawn well enough, that it can appeal to "Star Trek" fans and casual viewers alike.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
"Wolverine" -- Don't scratch that!
Hugh Jackman takes his shirt off so often in "X-Men Origins: Wolverine," you're afraid the poor guy is going to catch a cold.
But that's the only thing you worry about. The character he plays is immortal and indestructible. So it's hard to get too concerned about him during all those fight scenes in which his character is theoretically in peril. That's the thing about immortality -- you can be pretty sure he isn't going to die.
"X-Men Origins: Wolverine" answers the unasked question "How did Wolverine get to be the way he is, but not the part about having the 12-inch claws that stick out of his hands or even the part about being immortal, but just the part about having his skeleton being made out of super-strong metal?" As far as origins stories go, it is unambitious.
In scenes before and during the titles, we learn that Jackman's character Logan and his brother were born in what appears to be the early 19th century, and that they served together in the Civil War, World War I, World War II and Vietnam. Apparently, they sat out Korea. In Vietnam, the brother begins to get a little mean, beginning a sibling rivalry that lasts for 30 years and the length of the movie, which sometimes feels like the same thing.
Liev Schreiber plays the brother, whose secret power is that he is like a sabretooth tiger. He is also immortal, making their many tension-free fights particularly tiresome. He has a tendency to turn up whenever and wherever it is most convenient for the script, and so too does fellow villain Col. Stryker, played by Danny Huston.
Taylor Kitsch, from "Friday Night Lights," joins the cast way too late in the story as a card sharp whose magic power is that he makes the numbers on cards sparkle, or something. Ryan Reynolds is in the film early as a sword-loving soldier whose magic power is that he bagged Scarlett Johansson.
All in all, Reynolds wins.
Director Gavin Hood once made the startlingly effective South African Oscar-winner "Tsotsi," but here he displays none of that film's humanity or tension. He lets the long third act of "Wolverine." get away from him, and it can take an effort to stay awake during this dry period. Nor does it help that the writers use a gambit straight from "Romeo and Juliet" for one of their very few plot twists.
Jackman is always watchable, even when he is doing something silly, and there are plenty of silly opportunities in this film. He has talent and charisma, and worse movies (though not much worse) have got by on less.
As we get plenty of opportunties to see, he also has impressive abs, pecs and biceps.
But that's the only thing you worry about. The character he plays is immortal and indestructible. So it's hard to get too concerned about him during all those fight scenes in which his character is theoretically in peril. That's the thing about immortality -- you can be pretty sure he isn't going to die.
"X-Men Origins: Wolverine" answers the unasked question "How did Wolverine get to be the way he is, but not the part about having the 12-inch claws that stick out of his hands or even the part about being immortal, but just the part about having his skeleton being made out of super-strong metal?" As far as origins stories go, it is unambitious.
In scenes before and during the titles, we learn that Jackman's character Logan and his brother were born in what appears to be the early 19th century, and that they served together in the Civil War, World War I, World War II and Vietnam. Apparently, they sat out Korea. In Vietnam, the brother begins to get a little mean, beginning a sibling rivalry that lasts for 30 years and the length of the movie, which sometimes feels like the same thing.
Liev Schreiber plays the brother, whose secret power is that he is like a sabretooth tiger. He is also immortal, making their many tension-free fights particularly tiresome. He has a tendency to turn up whenever and wherever it is most convenient for the script, and so too does fellow villain Col. Stryker, played by Danny Huston.
Taylor Kitsch, from "Friday Night Lights," joins the cast way too late in the story as a card sharp whose magic power is that he makes the numbers on cards sparkle, or something. Ryan Reynolds is in the film early as a sword-loving soldier whose magic power is that he bagged Scarlett Johansson.
All in all, Reynolds wins.
Director Gavin Hood once made the startlingly effective South African Oscar-winner "Tsotsi," but here he displays none of that film's humanity or tension. He lets the long third act of "Wolverine." get away from him, and it can take an effort to stay awake during this dry period. Nor does it help that the writers use a gambit straight from "Romeo and Juliet" for one of their very few plot twists.
Jackman is always watchable, even when he is doing something silly, and there are plenty of silly opportunities in this film. He has talent and charisma, and worse movies (though not much worse) have got by on less.
As we get plenty of opportunties to see, he also has impressive abs, pecs and biceps.
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