Game Boys (Jones 2008)

Let’s face it: when it comes to being a geek, there is a certain level of childishness that comes with it. We spend time focusing on the minutia of our obsessions, litter our shelves with nerdy objects and in general tend to hold onto a great fondness for our childhood loves. Growing up tends to be something of a balancing act, as we take on adult responsibility and maturity whilst still holding on to our geeky passions.

Its no wonder then that as our fellow geeks have come into being filmmakers, television producers, writers and artists, we have seen a surge of films that try and address that tension between childhood geek-dom and entering into adulthood: Free Enterprise, Clerks II, and Shaun of the Dead amongst others have explored this theme, usually organizing the conflict through the trials and tribulations of their protagonists’ romantic pursuits. In each of the mentioned films, the female partners sought become the guide and symbol of adult life, and whom our heroes must meet in maturity.

Joining this canon of films is Brad Jones fourth feature length film Game Boys. The film marks a break from Jones previous efforts Cheap, Freak Out and the yet-to-be-released-online Midnight Heat, which have all played in the exploitation film sandbox. Game Boys focuses on Scott (Jones), and old school gamer who as the film starts is dumped by his girlfriend of six months. Given that Scott is prone to drinking, his roommate and friend Ray (Alex Shryock) comes up with a plan to get Scott’s mind off of his ex: hold a video game competition/party built around (arguably) the most notorious video game in existence, Custard’s Revenge. Scott is less than enthused with the idea of the party (and the game itself), but gets onboard when he realises the event holds the opportunity to get close to Sally (Bianca Queen), a fellow classic gamer. The only problem? Getting a copy of the game itself.

Game Boys is both literally and figuratively a film of growing pains, as Scott works out his life and Jones launches into different territory for him in his feature length work. Moving away from his plot heavy horror/thrillers, Jones focuses on a narrative that is stripped down both in terms of plot and thematic complexity, a change that does lead to a few problems for the film as a whole. The looser structure of the film leads to several sequences that go on too long, most notably the montage sequences, and some important characters, including Sally, are underdeveloped while more simplistic characters such as Steve receive more screen time. And at points, the gaming dialogue goes a tad too far, working in gaming references at points when more straightforward dialogue would have worked in the film‘s favour.

However, for all the film’s flaws, Game Boys is Jones’ best film yet, showcasing a greater sense of confidence and control as a filmmaker from when he first began. As the film opens, we are introduced to Scott and Ray in a simple conversation that quickly and effectively establishes who the characters are, with a snappy rhythm built out of the performances and editing that shows none of the beginning filmmaker uncertainty in his earlier films. By the time the film launches into its excellent opening credits sequence, which between the images of classic advertisements and music clearly outlines the film’s exploration of nostalgic longing and comfort, there is no doubt that Jones knows where he is taking his audience as we wander through the classic gaming subculture, including instructional videos, back ally game dealers and gaming obsessed mothers.

At its best, Game Boys is a character focused comedy of people and places familiar to the geek set, deftly blending moments of absurdity with an understanding of the fine details of geek life. Moreover, in taking on a romantic comedy, Jones allows his innate likeability to shine through as an actor, making an effective romantic comedy lead. Luckily, in Bianca Queen, Jones has an actor of equal strength to play off of, and the chemistry between the two allows for the relationship to have an innocent sweetness despite some of the characters’ rougher edges. More uneven is Shryock, who occasionally oversteps the fine line between being a heightened character and being slightly like a cartoon, but more often than not he finds the right balance for most of his scenes.

Perhaps the most surprising element of the film is the way in which Jones avoids the road of showing nostalgia as being something which needs to be grown out of, and in the process avoids transforming Sally into little more than a end goal to be reached by Scott. Nostalgia here is an important part of all the characters here, and it becomes the foundation for a community. Given this, Scott’s quest is not one in which he seeks to leave behind the community, or grows out of it, but grows within it. With this, Jones manages to avoid the clichés of the romantic comedy genre for the most part, and build scenes out of small moments, such as the wonderfully tender final shot of the film.

The one element of the film which does need to be addressed is the film’s most controversial plot point, that of Custard’s Revenge being the focus of the film’s narrative. While I am not going to describe what the game is about, I will say that the game is one of the most horrific and sexist games ever put to market, and its placement at the heart of an otherwise light comedy is certainly a curious choice. Within the film, Jones does go out of his way to acknowledge the game’s content and address it, partly by the volatile reactions demonstrated by some characters towards the game, and in part because the game is ultimately acknowledged as trash. Indeed, (SPOILERS) part of the point of the film’s conclusion is that the game and the contest built around it is a fruitless endeavour in and of itself, and that the sense of community built around gaming is the real core of the film. However, because the film never fully addresses the issue head on and places it to the margins, it can potentially make some audiences uncomfortable. Moreover, I do believe that the game does have a thematic point as well, but I will be the first to acknowledge that the film doesn’t nearly develop this thematically enough to be able to say that it is a defendable point. (SPOILERS END).

At the end of the day, save that one quibble, I give Game Boys a full recommendation, and it can be viewed at Jones' site here. It is a flawed film, but one that has more passion and understanding of geek culture then some films which are available. With any luck, Jones will return to feature length filmmaking again, and with any luck will once again push himself into a new direction as he develops as a filmmaker.

War Inc. (Seftel 2008)

(Here is another classic review from my facebook days, while I work on three new reviews for the upcoming week. Enjoy!)


There is no way to talk about War Inc. (Seftel 2008) without talking about Grosse Pointe Blank (Armitage 1997), John Cusack’s cult classic comedy about a hitman who’s most recent job coincides with his high school reunion, for several reasons. First, much of the underlying structures between the two films is similar, as both revolve around their respective protagonists (Hauser in War Inc., Martin Blank in Grosse Pointe Blank) undergoing a transformation from apathetic existence to attempting some form of redemption. Secondly, in both cases Cusack is not only the star of the films, but a co-writer and producer whose influence is easily found in the finished work. Lastly, I have to consider the two films together because Grosse Pointe Blank is one of my all favourite films, which left me with high expectations going into War Inc., given it was acknowledged as being the thematic sequel to the earlier effort by Cusack himself.

To look back on Grosse Pointe Blank is to see a film which is clearly of a specific moment in time. Like many films of this period, including mainstream blockbuster efforts such as Mission Impossible (De Palma 1996) and Goldeneye (Campbell 1995), Grosse Pointe Blank reflects upon the end of the Cold War and the lives of those whose existence was defined by it. Martin Blank (Cusack), a freelance assassin, is in the midst of an identity crisis, questioning his profession and the direction that his life has taken, which has seemingly descended into a form of mindless capitalism as he works for the highest bidder. Worse, this form of greed is in the midst of being organized by fellow hitman Grocer (Dan Aykroyd), transforming the random mass of freelance hitmen into a unionized force so that they can “make more, (and) work less.”

The film’s central premise of Martin’s return to his high school and attempts to reunite with Debi (Minnie Driver), the woman he failed to take to the prom the night he signed up with the army, serves not only as a point of personal reflection but also of a metaphorical political reflection, attempting to look to the Cold War past in order to find a new direction for the country other than unrestrained greed. As Grosse Point Blank ends, it manages to find an optimism that perhaps a change is possible, as Martin and Debi literally drive out of Grosse Point and their pasts, with Grocer dead and Martin’s target alive.

Cut to eleven years later and War Inc. This time out, Cusack is Hauser, a depressed hitman working for Tamerlane, a company owned by the recently resigned Vice-President (Dan Aykroyd again), and which is running the first completely privatized war in the occupied country of Turaqistan. Hauser is ordered to the country to commit a political assassination, while hiding under the guise of being a Tamerlane executive planning a publicity stunt wedding of a Middle Eastern pop star named Yonica Babyyeah (Hillary Duff). At the same time, Hauser attempts to form some type of relationship with reporter Natalie Hegalhuzen (Marisa Tomei), who is trying to expose the sins of Tamerlane.

If Grosse Pointe Blank was an optimistic tale of being able to move past the sins of old, War Inc. is an almost hopeless film which ends on a deliberately ambiguous note (pay close attention in the final few scenes of the film), a world where Grocer won and is getting away with it, almost literally as Aykroyd’s casting as the VP insinuates. Unfortunately, the film also differs from Grosse Pointe Blank in being nowhere near as sharply written, fined tuned, or timely. Whereas Grosse Pointe Blank was riding the zeitgeist of its time, War Inc. is arriving at least a year too late, if not four, offering a pessimistic take on America’s future and politics just as the country seems to be moving in a more hopeful direction.

The main problem with War Inc. is that it goes the exact opposite route of what made its predecessor work: it places its politics before its characters, rather than allowing the politics to be subtext. The film is so overt in its politics that it feels like Cusack and crew were reading H.G. Wells before embarking on the screenplay, didactically denouncing the Bush administration’s policies while forgetting that they were attempting to make a comedy. The near future/semi-sci-fi setting of the film is gratuitous and unnecessary, and the film would have worked better by distancing itself from its very topic , at least overtly. Setting the film in a middle eastern country, fictional or real, is so in the audiences face that the characters are almost entirely reduced to caricatures, rather than real flesh and blood human beings. This could have worked had the film entered into almost total abandon with any sense of reality. Unfortunately, the film does want you to take the supposed drama of the film completely seriously and invest in its characters.

Nothing makes this point clearer than the film’s twist towards the end (MAJOR SPOILER AHEAD). As we learn during the course of the film, Hauser’s wife was murdered years before and his daughter taken, with him completely unable to locate her. However, as Hauser confronts the mysterious Viceroy (at least the film wants the character to be mysterious. It will take you all of five seconds to piece the identity of the character together once you hear the voice), we learn that Yonica is his daughter. This revelation adds nothing to the film whatsoever, rather acting as a convenient plot device. In fact, it really only seems to exist to justify the casting as Duff as a Middle Eastern pop star. Of course, just about everything involving Yonica serves no purpose in the film, seemingly instead to be a tangent about low brow American culture dominating other countries that nobody seemed to ask Cusack remove from his script. (SPOILERS OFF)

However, this is not to say the film is not worth watching. While the satire might be a bust, the character of Hauser remains strangely compelling to watch. While on the surface Hauser might seem much like Martin Blank, Hauser is a far more broken and bitter character. In one of the running jokes throughout the film that actually works, Hauser engages in forms of therapeutic conversation with the disembodied Guidestar employee, voiced by of all people Montel Williams, letting the viewer in on Hauser’s disconnect from the world around him. Furthermore, the banter between Hauser and Natalie is fairly witty and enjoyable. Nothing as quotable as the majority of Grosse Pointe Blank is, but not bad.

In fact, Cusack and the rest of the cast are solid enough. The hitman role is tailor made for Cusack and he delivers in acting, if not in the scripting this time out. Tomei makes for a good “straight man” to Cusack’s Hauser, while Duff manages to surprise by not make me hate her every minute she’s onscreen. Aykroyd however is wasted, as is Joan Cusack who tries her hardest to make every scene she is in work.

As for the direction from Joshua Seftel, it is solid, though the film is clearly the artistic efforts of Cusack more than anyone else. Seftel brings a solid hand to the film, but is hampered by the weaknesses of the script. He does have an eye for action, effectively staging a number of sequences without drifting into too much shaky cam or Michael Bay style editing.

To sum it all up, War Inc. is a well intentioned disappointment, failing to live up to its thematic predecessor or deliver upon the promise that it holds at its core. I would still recommend renting the film, but simply keeping low expectations going in.

Ponyo (Ponyo On the Cliff) (Miyazaki 2008)

It is easy to get caught up in the surface beauty of Hayao Miyazaki’s 2008 animated film Ponyo, with its beautiful design and fluid animation. Furthermore, with its child protagonists, light hearted fantasy narrative and somewhat cutesy humour, it would be easy to dismiss the film as little more than a colourful distraction, without any weight or substance to it. Such an interpretation would miss the brilliant subversion of the film, turning children’s fantasy films on their heads, with the end resulting being a film that isn’t so much an adventure story as it is a study in human behaviour.

The story of Ponyo, inspired by Hans Christian Anderson’s classic fairytale The Little Mermaid, is that of Ponyo, a young fish whose father Fujimoto, a wizard of the sea. Ponyo wishes to become human after meeting a five year old boy named Sosuke, a young boy living with his mother on a cliff. When Ponyo’s father discovers that she is starting to become human after accidentally tasting human blood, he does his best to prevent her from changing. However, Ponyo escapes and absorbs much of her father’s magic potions, allowing her to become human, but unknowingly start altering reality in dangerous ways at the same time. Can everything be put right with the world, and if so, by whom?

Magic, a world in danger, conflict between parents and children, and someone who desires to be human: sounds like a typical children’s film, right? While the basic elements that make up the story of the film may be standard, Miyazaki utilizes the surface familiarity of the narrative to play with the expectations of the audience. Unlike similar narratives, this is not a children’s coming of age story, with our protagonists learning about the adult world and finding their place in the world: the child characters already know and understand world and their place in it. Rather, Ponyo is a film which invites the viewer to adopt the point of view of a child, and watch as the adults in the story play catch up with the children. The parents of this story spend the film being both amazed and panicked at what their children know and desire, and must confront these feelings for both their own benefit and that of their children.

The end of the world storyline isn’t the dramatic thrust of the film, but rather a metaphor for the feelings of Fujimoto. Fujimoto spends nearly the entire film in a panic, regardless of how small an issue may be, so when it comes time for the dramatic reveal of the world supposedly descending into chaos, it comes off as comical rather than serious: everything when it concerns his daughter feels like the end of the world. This panicked behaviour on the part of Fujimoto is contrasted to the behavior of the other adults in the film, who almost entirely react to events in a positive light, no matter how serious or bizarre they may be: fish becoming girls? Random tsunamis? All of these things are part of life, and it is simply best to just get on with living and not worry about them, particularly if it comes to one’s kids.

The film however is not structured around Fujimoto, but around his daughter Ponyo. The expectation would be that the film would follow her attempts to become human and learning from Sosuke. Once again however, Miyazaki avoids the obvious by not making this the focus of the narrative either. Ponyo does not need to learn to be human: she already is human, in spirit, mind and behaviour. While her reactions to even the smallest of everyday activities and items may seem odd, they are no different than the way most five year olds react to the world, with energy and excitement at the discovery of new things. She doesn’t need to learn anything, nor does Sosuke need to learn to accept her for what she is: he does so from the moment he meets her. What they lack is not moral or spiritual knowledge, but merely technical knowledge of the world, none of which fazes them as they acquire it. The film thus becomes about perception and knowledge, and the bridging of the gaps between different groups when it comes to these issues.

The end result of Miyzaki’s approach to the subject matter is a surprising mature film which avoids the simplistic good vs. evil narratives of most family films, substituted instead with careful observations about human behaviour and relationships. It is touching, sweet, and memorable film, something most often lacking in modern family films made in the west.

Ponyo as a film is virtually flawless, technically impressive and well written. However, if there is one complaint to be found, it is not with the Japanese language version of the film, but with the Disney lead dubbing of the film. Now, putting aside my own hatred for dubbing for a moment, I can accept that the target audience of the film likely cannot read yet, making subtitles a problem. However, celebrity voice casting for the hell of it is/was/always shall be a bad idea, and the English dub of Ponyo is a prime example as to why. Most of the time, celebrity voice casting is a distracting practice, taking the viewer out of the film as they try and guess who is voicing each character. Worse, a number of the adult actors are bad or simply miscast. Liam Neeson, a brilliant actor, is completely wrong for the role of Fujimoto, being too controlled and too regal for a character that was better suited to a more energetic actor, such as David Tennant. Then there is Tina Fey, who spends the entire film sounding as if she is reading off of the script. I know she literally was, but her performance here is static and sounds like a narrated story book recording. Fey is a great actress, but honestly, a selection of professional voice actors would have served the film better.

Still, such a complaint is a small one when it comes to an otherwise masterful film. Ponyo is simply a joyous film, one which is hard to come away from without feeling like taking a fresh look at the world around you, being cute and sentimental without sacrificing intelligence.

Surveillance (Lynch 2008)

Jennifer Chambers Lynch’s 2008 film Surveillance is a rather slippery little film. It really isn’t a mystery, yet it is structured like one; it is a narrative film, yet the narrative is almost entirely irrelevant; it is a film that is all about observation, yet ironically it is a film which works against the audience needing to be observant. Surveillance is a paradox, one which is as frustrating as it is rewarding.

Surveillance tells the tale of two FBI agents (Bill Pullman and Julia Ormond) who arrive at a police station in the middle of nowhere. Three individuals have just survived a run in with two serial killers being hunted by the FBI, where their family, friends and partners have been slaughtered. One survivor is a police officer (Kent Harper), another is a drug addicted young woman (Pell James) , and a little girl (Ryan Simpkins). Each one tells their side of the story, under video surveillance. Yet, what is really being observed as these tales are told?

As noted earlier, Surveillance is a film which is structured like a mystery, complete with a “twist” reveal in the latter third of the film. However, the mystery itself is almost entirely solvable from the time the film begins. While normally this would be the sign of bad screenwriting and directing, I don’t believe that this is the case here. Lynch has crafted a world in the film which is deliberately cartoonish, populated with characters who lack any psychological depth, and who run entirely upon impulse, revelling in their excesses. This approach works entirely counter to the very concept of mystery, which is rooted in the hidden and obscure. This contrast between genre and style is the crux of the film’s overall critique: the loss of depth and complexity in a mediated world. This is a world of wannabe liars and con artists, incapable of effectively hiding who they are, because they do not need to. Everyone is too wrapped up in their own immediate gratification to be observant of anything, or anyone, around themselves. As such, the idea of a mystery has lost all meaning.

Given this subject matter, the tone of Surveillance is appropriately ironic and darkly comedic, making it no surprise that the performances from the cast are appropriately humorous and unsettling. In fact, the cast of the film is one of the stranger ensembles I have seen in a film, with more dramatic actors, such as Pullman, Ormond and the always great Michael Ironside mixing it up with known comic actors French Stewart and Cheri Oteri among others. While I wouldn’t call the performances from the cast here as being the best any of them have done (well, maybe Oteri), Lynch does manage to keep them all on the same page, walking the fine line between comedic and horrific.

However, despite the film’s complexities and engrossing intellectual challenge, I am honestly not sure how well the finished work stands as a cinematic experience. The catch of the approach Lynch takes to her film is that it works against the film as much as it does for it. In structuring it as a mystery, Lynch forces the viewer to have to sit through the motions of a mystery that there is no real investment in. Due to this, the film runs longer than it really needs to. I can help but think that Surveillance would have worked better as a short film rather than a feature, where its approach would have carried more punch and not dragged as much as it does.

In fact, I am not entirely sure Lynch knew how to conclude the film either. After awhile, the film feels like it is searching for the proper point for which to end, never really finding it. It simply runs out of material rather than finding the right material, and becomes intent on wrapping up as many loose ends as possible, even though such efforts are unnecessary.

Still, Surveillance is worth seeking out. It is a flawed film, but a fascinating one as well, skilfully playing with our perceptions of the mystery genre and with our understanding of media. While it might leave those expecting a traditional mystery thriller cold, for those willing to make the effort to grapple with its complexities, there are many rewards to be found.