Daybreakers (Spierig 2009/2010)

Is anything more annoying to genre film fans than seeing a good film fail to find the audience upon initial release? Actually, yes, there is, and that is seeing miserable excuses for genre cinema succeed with general audiences, thus ensure that crap continues to be produced instead of solid efforts.

Among the most annoying films to see fail last year was Daybreakers (Spierig 2009/2010 [while a 2009 film, it opened in North America in January of 2010]), a film which addresses a long asked question in horror film circles: if vampires did succeed in taking over the world and became the dominate species, how would they keep feeding themselves with a dwindling human population? This question drives the narrative of Daybreakers, a near future set film that deftly blends science fiction and horror in a manner that few films ever achieve.

Looking to answer the problem of the depleting blood supply in Daybreakers is Dr. Dalton (Ethan Hawke), chief scientist for a major corporation lead by Charles Bromley (Sam Neil). Dalton’s task is not imperative due survival reasons however, because the lack of blood does not kill a vampire. Rather the longer a vampire goes without blood, the more likely they are to transform into a mindless bestial form. Worse, the blood supplies are down to merely a few weeks worth left, meaning the bulk of the population is facing this animalistic existence.

Dalton’s personal motives for looking for a blood alternative is not driven by a desire to preserve vampire kind however, but rather to preserve humanity. He sympathizes with the remaining humans, and hopes his work will lead to the end of the human blood farming that has been undertaken to preserve most of the population. Dalton’s search for a blood alternative is completely altered however due to a chance meeting with a group of humans on the run, a meeting which leads him to ‘Elvis’ (Willem Dafoe), a one time vampire who has been miraculously cured without knowing quite how.

Elvis believes Dalton can unravel the mystery of the how the cure works before it is too late for the population of the world, but complicating the situation is Dalton’s brother Frankie (Michael Dorman), a human hunter looking to help Bromley preserve vampire kind, regardless of whether or not a cure is in the best interests of both of the vampires and humans.

What separates Daybreakers from most other recent genre efforts is the level of detail that writers/directors Michael and Peter Spierig - the duo behind the heavily flawed but fun 2003 effort Undead - bring to the film. Like the best of science fiction film and literature, the brothers have crafted a full fledged world, packed with detail that, while not always necessary for the narrative, give a full sense of a living, breathing alternate reality. How can vampires function in daylight? Try interconnected underground tunnels, and cars that utilize video cameras as opposed to windows. How does a world full of vampires manage to keep their blood supplies from running out faster than they already are? Blood rationing, controlled by the government and private corporate interests. These are just the big questions that I am give the answers to; a good deal of the film’s joys come from discovering how the world of vampires works, and just how frighteningly close to our day to day existence it remains.

Perhaps more shocking however is the manner in which the filmmakers utilize the world they have created to deliver a rather subtle, and incredibly cleaver, allegory for the anxieties surrounding the uncontrolled consumption within Western society, particularly of fossil fuels such as oil. The film places great emphasis upon vehicles and road imagery in the film, with several significant events featuring cars prominently. The rationing and price increases of blood recall the fuel crisis of 1973, as does much of the imagery throughout the film. Dalton’s race for a “blood substitute” is a just subtle enough nod towards contemporary research and development of alternative energy sources. Read in this manner, the film’s presentation of the relationship between the militaristic human hunters and Bromley’s corporate power seems eerily similar to the conspiracy claims that oil supplies were the driving force behind most of the United States middle eastern involvement in the past decade, most notably the Iraq war.

It is not all politics though, as the filmmakers have fun playing with and subverting the typical tropes and imagery of the vampire film. While the 1998 mini-classic sci-fi/horror/superhero effort Blade first initiated the modern presentation of the vampire at the top of modern urban life, Daybreakers takes this concept to its limit, with the upper crust of vampire kind living in sterile consumerist paradise/hell. In contrast to this, the surviving humans have taken to the vampire hangouts of yesteryear, in isolated vineyards with gothic style housing. Clandestine meetings take place under the cover of day in the biggest car in the county (I have no shame. Really), and salvation may come with a vampire bite, though not in the manner you think.

As an Australian/American co-production, the film is peppered with talent from both countries. Hawke makes for an solid lead in Dalton, utilizing his almost minimalist approach to acting to great impact, while the Spierig brothers making excellent use of Hawke’s rather gaunt appearance. Dafoe manages to walk a fine line between caricature and character as ‘Elvis,’ while Claudia Karvan is sidelined by a somewhat underwritten role as Elvis’ right hand woman . Also suffering from slightness of writing is Dorman, though his performance is strong enough to make up for the somewhat sketch nature of his character.

The show stopper in the film however is Neil, a villain who could have come across as a rather typical corporate bad guy were it not for some better than expected writing, and Neil’s magnificent work. Bromley is a monster, but a rather understandable and sympathetic one. His actions within the film’s main plot are villainous, but a subplot involving Bromley’s daughter is rather touching, as we get to see him as a well meaning, but rather destructive father away from the film’s main narrrative concerns. While the subplot does involve a touch of coincidence, the manner in which it impacts Bromley’s overall character is rather understated and subtle, and the effort from both Neil and the filmmakers is much appreciated. Plus, (MAJOR SPOILER ALERT) Neil is given the single best death scene of his entire career with this film, and it is one that would make George A. Romero smile (MAJOR SPOILER ALERT OVER).

Perhaps the most impressive element of the film however is the rather ambiguous note upon which the film concludes, tackling a question that most films of this type avoid addressing: even if one could find the solution to the worldwide problem, just how on Earth is any solution going to be disseminated effectively? Rather than using some plot contrivance to write themselves out of this corner, the filmmakers address the issue head on in a rather dark manner. It is an ending which provides hope, but it is a subdued hope, leaving the audience to grapple with several narrative and thematic questions that are not fully answered on purpose. It is a rather gutsy manner upon which to end the film, and it shows the level of ambition brought to the project by all involved.

There are minor flaws with Daybreakers, but they are just that, minor. With any luck, in ten years time the film will be remembered as one of the stronger, if not strongest, vampire films to come out of the current craze for undead fiction. Highly recommended.

Cinematic Dreams for 2011

Sorry for the lack of updates this month: it has been a busy time in real life, which combined with a bit of a post October writing funk has done nothing for my reviews. I plan to have at least one more up before the end of the month (and year), and should have a fresh crop ready to go in January, 2011.

Speaking of the New Year however, and the mostly miserable failings of 2010 at the cinema, I would like to take this time to go over my hopes and dreams for 2011 and beyond.

The “Death” of the Blockbuster

Well, the death of the blockbuster as the cornerstone of Hollywood’s financial game plan. In a year filled with financial and critical disappointments, it is about time Hollywood finally took notice that the blockbuster might not be the best suited to ensuring the film industry’s existence. Take a look at the past weekend’s box office, where the 150 million dollar third entry in the Chronicles of Narnia franchise opened at number one, at yet still is a disappointment. Better yet, consider film The Tourist, with what are supposedly the two biggest movie stars on the planet. A 100 million dollar plus (reported) budget, and a 17 million dollar opening. Hardly seems worth paying those two the cash, does it?
Speaking of which...

The Movie Star IS Dead. Accept It.

I am not saying that there are not actors people are willing to pay to see, but the time in which you could slap the name of a star or two above a poster and expect to sell a ton of tickets is gone. Ask yourselves this question: since Will Smith, has there really been anyone to come along whom, on almost name alone, could sell a film?

Part of the problem is the saturation of the media with supposed “stars.” Look back at the greats, from the Classic Hollywood Era till around the 1990s: Humphrey Bogart, Lauran Bacall, Spencer Tracy, Katherine Hepburn Marlon Brando, Robert DeNiro, and hell, even Arnold Schwarzenegger. Yes, each has headlined at least one bomb, but at their prime, they sold tickets like nobody’s business. In each case, there was that special “something” about them, even if it was just the sheer physical spectacle of their body (in Arnold’s case). The testament to their power was when they could star in a mediocre film, or a film that was solely built around their personality, and sell tickets. No high concept or name branding to hide behind.

These days, there are plenty of “stars,” but no guarantees. Leonardo DiCaprio is a fine actor, but his biggest successes have not been sold on his name alone. George Clooney is one of the smarter stars in Hollywood, with creative and financial success. But it took the combined presence of Clooney, Brad Pitt and other big names to sell the Ocean’s Eleven series of films. And for those of you waiting to point to The Expendables as an example of movie stars still holding power, ask yourself this: if this film had only featured Stallone, and maybe even Jason Statham, instead of building itself around the combined spectacle of as many legendary (i.e. older) movie stars in one film, would it have been nearly the success it was? Also keep in mind that the film was made on a modest budget overall, and that its success is highly relative compared to the heyday of each of the film’s stars.

Adults are Your Friends. So are Low Costs.

Or rather, adult content is your friend.

Look at the following list of films from the past year: Inception; The Town; Black Swan; The King’s Speech; The Fighter. All of these are titles of adult oriented films, and all thus far have been outperforming the youth oriented films that drove the box office this year. And better yet, most of these were fairly inexpensive to produce, save the obvious exception.

Yes, I understand that youthful audiences have the most disposable income, but with the wide variety of media fighting for their attention, most are likely to be, well, fickle. And it is not JUST the youth I am talking about here; older audiences are just as guilty. Point is, it is the hardcore cinema fans, the ones who are willing to show up each week, even to see the same film again, that carry a given movie beyond week one at the box office. THAT is the audience you should be chasing.

And that audience tends to want substance.

Look, anyone who has spent any time at this site knows I love some straightforward fun, but that is all Hollywood seems to be trying for these days (and failing to achieve I might add). We need substance. I don’t care if you have to import it from another country, but please make the option available! I love Netflix, but honestly, I do want to be excited to go to a theatre once and a while. So come on Hollywood, throw us a bone. Please.

More “Mini-Majors”

Or how about a series of new, smaller studios not connected to the majors?
Part of the problem with modern Hollywood is the lack of competing studios. Even in the late 1980s, there were companies like Orion Pictures to give the majors a little bit of competition and release some odder films. These days, even New Line cinema has been absorbed into Warner Brothers, Mirimax has just managed to get out from under Disney, and the Weinstein Company has barely dodged being put out of commission. That leaves us with the majors, and their “indie” companies, if you really believe them to be separate companies.

The only new studio in recent years has been Summit Entertainment, which despite being built on the backs of the Twilight Saga, has proven itself willing to take on some projects other studios have not been willing to touch. These includ The Hurt Locker and the upcoming, financially dicey project The Beaver, which stars Mel Gibson. While hardly backing or releasing projects that are all that boundary pushing or independent, the studio is proving to be slightly riskier with its releases.

But it is still not enough. We need more studios to diversify the types of films released into general theatres, and we need more voices making it to the silver screen. Perhaps it will take a breaking apart of the currently existing majors, or a group of young upstarts, but news studios are needed to create competition. And with competition, hopefully some better films.

And those, my dear readers, are my cinematic hopes and dreams for 2011. Will they likely come true? Well, not likely in 2011, but as the next decade rolls on, I continue to live in hope that some of these will come true. And who knows? Perhaps with enough voices demanding it, we’ll get at least one or two of these to happen.

RED (Schwentke 2010)

While RED (Schwentke 2010) may not be a revenge film in terms of its narrative and genre, the film none-the-less offers a revenge fantasy for baby boom audience members faced with marginalization as Generation X and beyond come into power economically and politically. RED’s plot, about a group of retired CIA agents banding together to fight back against their old employer who is looking to execute them, takes every available opportunity to allow its protagonists to beat down their successors, demonstrate sexual vitality and simply prove that they are not too old live like the young. As a card carrying member of Generation Y/Next/Echo Boom/whatever-you-want-to-call-us, my reaction to RED is quite simple:

It is a hell of a fun little film.

Now, that does not mean that RED is a great film, or some sort of classic in the action genre. It is not. Nor is it necessarily better than its comic source material, a three issue mini-series by the legendary Warren Ellis. I have yet to read the series, so I cannot comment. What RED is however is a slick little piece of popcorn entertainment that would have been nice to have had available during this past summer, in order to relieve audiences of all the garbage that the studios tried to pass off as fun films (with the obvious exceptions of the great Inception and Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World). RED is a film without any preconceptions of greatness: it knows is strengths and limitations with regards to the material, and the filmmakers do their best to liven up the stock characters and situations with sharper than expected writing, directing and acting.

While director Robert Schwentke’s work thus far has been rather undistinguished, with credits on films such as Flightplan (2005) and The Time Traveler’s Wife (2009), he brings a steady hand to RED, working from a script by Jon and Erich Hoeber (Whiteout). Schwentke seems to know that the best approach to the material is to simply allow the cast to carry the film and get out of their way. There are no auteur or wannabe-auteur attempts made in the film: Schwentke’s direction primarily consists of keeping the film energetic and moving a good clip, and it works. More importantly, Schwentke keeps the film relatively grounded, allowing for moments of comic action absurdity that are fantastic without turning the film into an outright fantasy of superhuman beings.

Carrying most of the film’s weight however is the cast, which provide uniformly excellent work. Lead star Bruce Willis, who earlier this year was underserved by the sub par script and direction of the buddy comedy Cop Out, gets to really flex his comedic muscles here as Frank Moses. Willis plays the role in a surprisingly vulnerable manner, downplaying the supposed “badass” coolness of Frank and instead plays up the character’s awkwardness with average life and relationships. This of course is helped in no small way by Mary-Louise Parker as Sarah, Frank’s possible romantic flame who comes to rather enjoy the dangerous situation she finds herself in. While Parker’s character is unfortunately saddled with the damsel in distress role at a certain point in the film, Parker makes the most of every scene she is in, brining a sense of spunk and joy to a character that could easily have been phoned in.

The film’s supporting cast is equally worthy of mention. Morgan Freeman and John Malkovich are given somewhat thin characters to work with, with Freeman particularly stuck playing a variation on the wise-old-man role. Both are clearly having fun onscreen however, and it is infectious. Malkovich in particular eats up every odd quirk he is given to play as Marvin, the paranoid and childlike ex-CIA agent who spent years being the subject of LSD experiments. The sight of a sad Marvin holding a stuffed pig by the tail is one of RED’s highlights, and Malkovich is given plenty of similar scene stealing moments throughout. Karl Urban as the young but not naïve agent tracking Moses is stuck playing straight man to pretty much everyone else in the film, but he once again proves that he has the charisma to be great leading man if he can ever score the right role to take him to the A-list.

However, RED’s best weapon is the duo of Helen Mirren and Brian Cox, as romantically involved agents from opposite sides of the long over Cold War. The pair’s subplot romance is almost a delightful romantic comedy onto itself, particularly in the final act of the film as the band of heroes put their final plan in motion. By this point, Cox’s character of Ivan Simanov seems vastly less interested in the grandiose nature of Frank’s plan than he is in pursuing Mirren’s Victoria with as much smooth charm as possible. Mirren meanwhile appears to relish the opportunity she has to play the most badass member of Moses’ crew, finding ways to blend flirtatious and motherly types of behaviour with the stone cold professionalism. Combined with the fact that Mirren and Cox have great chemistry, I simply would have loved for the whole film to be nothing more than a charting of their peculiar romance over the decades. A spin off film perhaps?

By the time RED comes to a close, there will likely be members of the audience saying that the filmmakers could easily have made a more substantive film dealing with the issues of an aging population and its rivalry with its offspring, and they would not be wrong. Others will likely be complaining that the film moves far away from leaner and meaner premise of Warren Ellis’ original comic. Again, I have not read the comics, though its reviews online point to it being a massively different work, and a fascinating one. Again, such complaints would not be wrong. However, both criticisms would seem to miss the fun to be had with RED, particularly given the lack of action films focused on older characters in modern filmmaking. Besides which, the film simply succeeds at what it sets out to do.

Fans of Ellis’ original comics can take one little bit of solace when it comes to the film: at least RED is not as disappointing as The Losers. Or as bad as Jonah Hex. Those are fans who really have something to complain about.

The Future Of Horror: Where It Stands and How We Can Change It.

My plan had been too produce enough reviews to last all of October for Halloween, but between real life work needing more attention, and watching a number of non-horror related films, my headspace has been in another place altogether. I still have been enjoying plenty of horror films as of late, and there are three films that I feel I have something to say about, but I honestly feel I need to get my head elsewhere before tackling those reviews.

However, I don’t want to turn my back on horror films just yet, as there is one topic I feel compelled to write about for sure: the state of the modern horror film. It is almost needless to say, but the last decade has been abysmal for the horror genre, thanks to the endless remakes, sequels, and just plain watered-down fare that has been offered to audiences. Yes, a number of at ambitious, interesting and/or legitimately great films were produced between 2000 and 2009, but more often than not these films were buried with small theatrical releases, or simply sent straight to video where they were unlikely to find a wider audience outside of the horror hard-core. Meanwhile, mainstream junk such as the infamous Saw series, which began in 2004 and seems likely to run until doomsday, has been sucking up theatre screens and production funds from more deserving projects.

While the obvious reason for the down spiral of horror films is the eternal quest to maximize box office revenues, less direct reasons have also been offered, from the all too real horror of September 11th, 2001 reducing the power of the horror film to scare an already terrified audience, to cultural shifts in which the monster has become seen as something to be rehabilitated rather than feared. Certainly, both of these arguments have merit, the latter being evidenced by the existence of the God awful Twilight Saga. More dubious arguments have been made for a desensitised audience, though the unsettling (and outright disgusting) premises of A Serbian Film and The Human Centipede do make it hard to dismiss such claims entirely.

If we were to stop here, the immediate future of the horror film would look fairly bleak, with fans trapped between middling fair and films that are little more than journeys into human degradation with little (or no) artistic merit. Frankly, I find either option too bleak for my tastes. While there is little doubt that current trends will likely continue for some time yet, I feel that there is hope on the horizon for our beloved genre, especially if we (both audience members and filmmakers) can galvanize our support behind certain trends and projects currently on the move.

One of horror’s main obstacles of the past few years has been that the genre has been too cheap to produce whilst also being too expensive. While that statement may sound like a contradiction, it really is not. Horror films have always been rather cheap to make, which has allowed a gluttony of horror films to be produced and flood the direct to video selves at your local video stores and big chain retailers. For every Paranormal Activity, there are several gimmicky slasher films that only exist to reinforce the idea that horror is a low aiming, money grabbing genre. One of the most disheartening things I witnessed this Halloween season were just how many recent straight to video slasher films dominated the Halloween bins. While vampires and zombies may be over exposed at the moment, the twisted-serial-killer-with-a-theme monster has gone well beyond being tired. Such films need to cease being supported at both the production and at consumer ends of the spectrum, and higher aiming efforts supported.

Meanwhile, high budget Hollywood productions are tossing way too much money at making the same low budget films into large, glossy productions, a sheen that harms a film more often than it helps. While the low budget equivalents may be purely exploitative and tacky, their low budgets can also often allow for a rough and tumble energy that the big budget films lack. Large CGI spectacles rarely ever scare, and when your casts look like a group of models with perfectly made up hair, many of us cease to believe in the horror universe being attempted. For example, last I checked high school students tend to look like rather awkward kids (which is exactly what they are), not 28 year old underwear models.

Speaking of teenagers, here is another little thing we might want to collectively consider: teenagers are rarely that interesting. Yes, I know most the audience these days is twenty and under, but frankly adults are far more interesting to follow because they have a little something called life experience. Just look at the more successful horror films of the past few years: Paranormal Activity focused on a young couple, while The Last Exorcism dealt with a middle aged man with a family. Both films focus on adults with compelling histories, with adult concerns, concerns which are all the more open for transformation into horror stories. On a more practical level, adult characters simply allow for more experienced actors to take center stage, rather than placing the weight of an entire film on the shoulders of an early twenty-something who is still developing a sense of their craft. Yes, great young actors exist, but be honest, when your cast of characters is mostly made up of teenage characters, it is unlikely that the entire cast is going to be made up of top notch, or even merely adequate, actors.

Lastly, and this one is for Hollywood executives in particular, do not be afraid of the large scale horror film. While I may have earlier called for lowering the spending on low aiming slasher films, there are plenty of horror films in need of a real budget and A-level talent, talent which is ready and waiting to work on such films. Right now, myself and many other horror geeks have our hopes set on Guillermo Del Toro’s adaptation of At the Mountains of Madness, a film that might just be the most ambitious horror film of the past twenty years. Del Toro has been fighting almost single-handedly to raise the bar for horror films, and a project such as this holds the possibility of opening up a whole new era of horror filmmaking if it hits. But it is going to require a level of support that are usually granted to big budget superhero films and other blockbusters.

And it will be up to us as horror fans to make sure that such a risk is justified. If we do not get out and support this kind of ambition, then we can kiss away a bright future for this genre. We need to be smart in what we choose to support, just as we ask studios to be smart with where we spend their money. I believe that we can do, and I hope that you join me in this effort.

Superman/Batman: Apocalypse (Montgomery 2010)

(NOTE: this is just a small break from my Halloween Horror set of reviews. The latest review in that series is Bride of Re-Animator which was published yesterday)




For the first fifteen minutes, I thought that the filmmakers of the DC Universe Animated films had finally cracked the problems of their preceding efforts and were going to deliver an unqualified success in Superman/Batman: Apocalypse (Montgomery 2010). Those fifteen minutes are tense, atmospheric and present an interesting setup for a feature film, with the best design work and animation thus far in the series of films. Those fifteen minutes feel epic.

Then the rest of the damn film happens.

Ok, to be fair, the film is pretty epic throughout, the design and animation are the best the series has produced, and Lauren Montgomery’s direction is nothing short of fantastic. But after the first fifteen minutes, a series of massive missteps are made from which the film is unable to recover from, and the end result sets a whole new low for the DC Animated films.

I’m getting ahead of myself though. Superman/Batman: Apocalypse is a direct sequel to Superman/Batman: Public Enemies (Liu 2009), and begins with a meteor crash in Gotham City. Batman (Kevin Conroy) discovers a ship at the heart of the crash, containing Kara (Summer Glau), Superman’s (Tim Daley) cousin. As Kara is suffering from memory loss and lacks control of her powers, she finds herself at the heart of a disagreement between Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman (Susan Eisenberg) over how to best train and protect her. However, things become even more complicated as Darkseid (Adrian Braugher), ruler of the planet Apocalypse, sets his sights on Kara to as the new leader of his army, and proceeds to kidnap her. Will the combined might of Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman be enough to rescue Kara, and even if it is, will Kara even wish to be rescued?

So just how does the most promising of the DC films go wrong? As with the grand majority of films, it comes down to the script, provided here by Tab Murphy (Brother Bear, of all things), and the downfall specifically begins with a scene in Metropolis park. The scene in question involves Clark and Kara being attacked by a mysterious group we assume work for Darkseid. As we soon discover after a lengthy and destructive battle though, the attackers belong to Wonder Woman and Batman, who wish to take Kara to Paradise Island have her train amongst the Amazon Warriors.

Now, allow me to try and break down the levels of idiocy in the scene. First, as is clearly indicated in the film, Superman and Wonder Woman have known and worked with each other for years. Given this, one would assume that Wonder Woman would likely TALK TO CLARK about the issue of Kara’s lack of control over her powers, and offer to help Kara by providing training in a safe environment. Instead, we are asked to accept that Wonder Woman and Batman would jump Clark and his cousin, for the purposes of either A) kidnapping Kara or B) making a point of how out of control Kara is by forcing her to cause property damage after being overwhelmed by attackers. The reason I list two options is because the goal of the attack is never made terribly clear, but both options are idiotic and are completely out of character for both Wonder Woman and Batman. This problem is only compounded by the issue of the property damage caused in the attack, which is extensive, pointless, and comes soon after Batman complains about Kara destroying fifty thousand dollars worth of his equipment by accident. So, Batman does not care about any property that isn't his own? Oh, and don't forget that innocent people could have wandered into the park at any time during this fight, and have been injured/killed. Good work Batman and Wonder Woman.

What really makes this scene so unbelievably moronic however is that we discover shortly thereafter that the reason for Wonder Woman and Batman’s concern is that Lyla, a trusted woman on Themyscira, is having visions of what appears to be Kara’s death. So again, I ask this question: WHY ON EARTH DID WONDER WOMAN NOT SIMPLY GO TALK TO SUPERMAN ABOUT THIS? This is not a simple slip up in logic, but rather a completely idiotic scene that does much to damage the characters and the idea of them as heroic leaders amongst the rest of the DC Universe.

The rest of the film follows an equally aggravating pattern of jumping between excellent scenes and concepts to moments of mind numbing stupidity. Here is another wonderful example: after Kara is kidnapped from Themyscira, Batman, Wonder Woman and Superman decide to head to the extremely dangerous Apocalypse in order to confront Darkseid and get Kara back. Now, Wonder Woman is clearly shown to have an army of Amazon Warriors at her beck and call, so I ask, why did they not take at least a small platoon with them to Apocalypse? Given that they are warriors, and that Darkseid’s attack on the island left at least one resident dead, you would think that they would be up for the action, but apparently not. Our how about the likely crippling mental trauma caused by Darkseid’s programming of Kara? At no point does any character even address the possibility that Kara will need help recovering from her mental abuse (and yes, that is exactly what it is).

The film suffers from other writing problems as well, including haphazard and episodic plotting, fake out endings with cheap horror film jump shocks that fail to shock, and repetitious dialogue exchanges about choice and control over ones life. Hell, in the span of roughly seven minutes, we see Darkseid deliver a speech about what Kara’s life could have been with him twice. All I could think of by the time the film was over was how such a shoddy piece of writing made it through with Bruce Timm at the helm as producer. While some of the past films in the series have been below par, there is nothing remotely close to the lapses in basic storytelling logic present here. Even the problematic Superman/Batman: Public Enemies was more or less an issue of simplistic screenwriting rather than outright awful screenwriting.

What makes this all the more infuriating is that there are moments in this film that are so good that you almost want to will yourself to ignore the massive problems with the film as a whole. There are small moments of comedy that are just hysterical, including a scene in which Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman drop by a normal neighbourhood seeking a specific individual's help, and the stunned neighbours do their best to look in on the bizarre sight of the three heroes in a domestic setting. Funnier still is the reactions of Ma and Pa Kent to the state of their farm at the film’s conclusion. And the fight sequences are, hands down, the best ever done in a Bruce Timm produced work. All these bright moments however merely serve to highlight the bafflingly awful storytelling on display in the film.

Without question, Superman/Batman: Apocalypse is the worst film to be produced thus far in the series of DC Animated films, and is utterly discouraging for what we have to look forward to with the adaptations of the acclaimed stories Batman: Year One and All Star Superman. The only, and I do mean ONLY, reason to even consider purchasing the disc is for the DC Showcase: Green Lantern short, which is nothing short of excellent. However, seeing as there is a disc that will collect all the of the DC Showcase shorts soon, it is best to keep it in mind before making that the deciding factor in purchasing Superman/Batman: Apocalypse.

The Expendables (Stallone 2010)

Sylvester Stallone’s greatest strength has always been his sincerity. The first two Rocky films, and the more recent Rocky Balboa are prime examples, with Stallone wearing his heart on his sleeve as we see a good man attempting to do his best to stay true too himself over the course of his life. Even the original First Blood, as much as it is a commercial thriller, comes from a very real and raw place.

However, this sincerity has also over the years proven to be Stallone’s greatest weakness, particularly when he wanders into political territory and presentations of “ideal masculinity.” Notably, this problem tends to come up most in his action films, and the results usually involve overblown, hyper-masculine displays, rampant paternalism, casual (and not so casual) misogyny, and a tendency to simplify complex issues into situations to be solved with a gun/knife/fists/any-other-weapon-of-choice. At the best of times, the films are so absurd that it is impossible for them to be taken seriously (Rambo III and Rocky IV come to mind), and at the worst of times, are so regressive and naïve as to insult the intelligence of the audience and offer a repugnant, ignorant presentation of a given topic (the Burma situation in the most recent Rambo being the worst offender). Stallone’s attempts to deny the cultural and political impact of his films by using the “mere entertainment” defence are undermined by his own claims regarding his desire to make his films personal statements, or at least reflect his values.

Thus, we come to The Expendables, Stallone’s latest action fest and one which has drawn much interest for its cast of action heroes, both past and present. The Expendables follows a group of soldiers of fortune, lead by Barney (Stallone) who become involved with the plight of a small country being run by a corrupt general and an ex-CIA agent (Eric Roberts). Barney and crew decide they want nothing to do with the job after a failed reconnaissance mission, but guilt and a desire to help the daughter of the general drives Barney to change his mind.

While something of an enjoyable romp, and hardly as insipid as the last Rambo, it is hard to come away from the film without feeling slightly disappointed and frustrated. With its premise of teaming up the legends of action cinema together, The Expendables held out the promise of being something more than a mere homage to the action films of old, of possibility being a film which took stock of where the action film genre and its stars have been, where they are, and where they are going. Indeed, with a title like The Expendables and a men on a mission premise, the film seemed to be on the path to offering some form of meta commentary about the manner in which the stars have fallen by the wayside. Unfortunately, the film settles for merely being a salute to what has come before, embracing Stallone’s ideas of aggressive masculinity being natural (and preferable to other forms), the importance of homosocial environments, and a guns-can-solve-anything attitude (or, if not guns, explosives). On this level the film is indeed fun and a romp, particularly as we get the opportunity to see old legends like Dolph Lungdren take to the screen along side current stars such as Jet Li.

Unfortunately, there is still that political side of the film, and the solutions offered to the issues raised in the film. US interventionist policy is at the heart of The Expendables, mixed with themes of fatherhood and parental responsibility. The political divide in the film is structured through the relationship between the country’s leader, General Gaza (David Zayas) and his daughter Sandra (Giselle Itie), as the corrupt father figure who himself is infantilized by ex-CIA agent Munroe (Roberts). As such, the film would seem to be a condemnation of America’s paternalistic treatment of other nations, trying to determine what is "best" for those abroad.

However, the film is structured in a manner that pits Barney as the competing, morally right father figure who opposes these forces, and the film builds towards Gaza's daughter’s acceptance and identification of Barney as the “good” parent whose values and ideals will become important in the rebuilding of the nation. As such, the film’s supposedly anti-interventionist politics are are contradictory, suggesting that the problem is not that the United States have chosen to unilaterally act as the father to second and third world countries, but that the occasional renegade forces of greed take the reins of such efforts. In some respects, it feels like an apology for the George W. Bush Jr. era foreign policies.

You will note of course that I have made repeated use of the word “paternalistic” in describing how the film handles its politics, and with good reason: the film contains a strongly regressive set of gender politics that leave no place for woman other than to adopt the “wisdom” of the male world view (of course, only one type of masculine identity exists in this film, so that is the wisdom of aggression and male privilege). In addition to the infantilized Sandra, the film has only one other female character in Lacy, played by Charisma Carpenter, whose talents are utterly wasted here. Lacy is part of the “subplot” (if two or three scenes can really make for a subplot) for the character Lee Christmas (Statham), and she is condemned early in the film for seeing a man other than Lee. Her reason for seeing someone else is sound: Lee disappears for months at a time, tells here nothing, and then expects her to just cosy on up to him when he returns. Unfortunately, the film never bothers to actually take Lee to task for his failings: it is Lacy who needs to learn the male code and submit to Lee’s “wisdom.” Her punishment for not doing so is to end up with an abusive boyfriend, as if that is the only other choice besides the emotionally neglectful Lee. Submit to Lee’s “wisdom” she ultimately does, not that it was avoidable. Given Lee’s surname of Christmas, what else could he be than a father like figure to her?

Yet, the film is so blaringly stupid as to bring into question as whether it can be taken seriously at all. Take the film’s approach to drug abuse and mental illness: these are not issues in need of being carefully treated, but instead can be solved with a good old fist fight and property damage. Well, as long as the mentally ill individual has a near death experience. I wont say which character has this subplot, but needless to say, the whole thing is fairly embarrassing and indicative of the level of which this film is working on as far as intelligence goes.

Yet, all throughout the film, you can feel the presence of Stallone and his damned sincerity. That he believes what he is selling here; that he isn’t capable of seeing just how idiotic the film he was produced is. It in turn allows the film to reach Ed Wood levels of idiocy and entertainment, as well as Ed Wood levels of pity. You can say what is wrong with the film, but Stallone will never get it. Just like he didn’t after Rocky IV. Or Cobra. Or Rambo.

As the end credits of The Expendables roll, the tired song “The Boys are Back in Town” plays. Indeed, the boys are back in town. I just wish they had grown up a little, rather than reliving the old days over again.

Summer Film Blues

Tonight, I had planned to have a review up, and I did finish it earlier today. However, upon rereading it, I don’t feel satisfied with it enough to post. The ideas are there, but not executed to my liking.

Instead, while I take a day or two to rewrite the review, I am going to take a few moments to make comments on a point of interest to film geeks, and will repeat this tomorrow as well.

If nothing else, 2010 could be dubbed “The Year Hollywood Looses Contact with Audiences.” Well, that is assuming it ever understood its audience in the first place. However, this year has almost unarguably been one of the worst years of film in the medium’s history, and even by the populist standards of summer blockbusters, this year has come up short.

While the mainstream press once again seems to be taking this as an opportunity to claim film dead as an artistic medium, I am oddly enough looking at this as being a potentially opportunistic situation, if studios and filmmakers pay close attention. Hollywood has been hit where it hurts most, in the wallet, and while it might take a second disastrous year for those in charge to take notice, there is the off chance that this could force them to change their business plans.

The problem with Hollywood right now is that they are all seeking to score major blockbusters, and to that end have been mostly producing homogenized, safe material, backed with obscene budgets where seemingly half of the money ends up in the hands of the “top talent.” This has usually been justified by the attraction of stars and name directors, but this line of thinking has some up short this year. When a Ridley Scott and Russell Crowe Robin Hood film cannot make back its budget, something is wrong. Hell, the fact that such a film cost over $200 million to produce, before marketing costs, should have been a clear indicator that something was wrong from the start.

While I hate to point to a remake for guidance, and while I still think that at $40 million to produce it is way too expensive for what it is, The Karate Kid, on a financial (though not creative) level should be looked to as Hollywood’s new model for most (though not all) of the film’s they produce. While it is basic common sense, lower costs mean lower risks, and potentially make riskier projects an easier sell. What is worth more to you Hollywood: one Spider-Man every year, or several District 9 type films which earn $100 plus at the box office?

In fact, I would honestly be looking towards lowering the costs of the average film to below levels of $30 million dollars. Insane you say? Perhaps. But then again, the fact that the average romantic comedy seems to cost around $40 million, when most of the film is centered around people talking, sounds insane to me.

This isn’t to say that $100 million dollar blockbuster needs to disappear, but rather that it needs to be removed from being the center point of the studio business model. Moreover, the old star system of the multi-million dollar pay days need to end, because let us be honest, it doesn’t seem to be doing jack for the selling films in the first place. And when a large part of the world is going through a recession, the fact that ANYONE is getting paid the kind of money the “A-list” crew makes is insane.

Think of the trickle down effect here Hollywood: tick prices increase because films become more expensive to produce in order to pay the costs of these wannabe blockbusters. Cut the costs, pass it on to the consumer. If the tickets get low enough, then attending a theatre might just be more affordable for many to go on a regular basis. If that’s the case, than you might just your audience attendance up, rather than relying on jacking up ticket prices to make up for lost revenue. Isn’t that better in the long term?

Maybe it is crazy for me to hope that Hollywood will learn anything like what I describe, but I would rather hope for this than accept the calls for film’s demise. Because if film were to die, than for people like me, that really is a depressing thought.

EDIT: and then there is this, which just goes to prove my point all the more -

Robin Hood (Scott 2010)

It has taken me three separate attempts to try and figure out how to talk about Ridley Scott’s Robin Hood in some sort of meaningful way. Each attempt has led me down a different path, considering the film in a variety of contexts in hopes of trying to understand just where the film goes wrong. After picking apart the film, turning it over in my head, and going over my experiences with Ridley Scott’s body of work, I have come to only one conclusion: Robin Hood is the first Ridley Scott film that is completely paint by numbers from start to finish. The paint by numbers set might be the one Scott designed himself, but paint by numbers is still paint by numbers.

At the start of the last decade, Scott kicked things off on a relative high with Gladiator (2000), a film that was a solid piece of old fashion sword and sandals filmmaking that was not Scott’s best work, but was certainly worthy of viewing. Gladiator provided an interesting, if conflicted, reflection of the place of violent spectacle in society, giving it slightly more depth than it might have otherwise had. Little over half a decade latter, Scott again returned to the large scale epic with Kingdom of Heaven (2006), which in its true director’s cut form is a more fascinating work than Gladiator, with even greater technical skill demonstrated on the part of Scott.

Now at the start of a new decade, Scott delivers his Robin Hood, and from start to finish, the film plays out like a desperate attempt to reclaim the past glory of Gladiator for both Scott and star Russell Crowe, as they transform the English legend into a tale which follows Gladiator almost beat for beat: a weary soldier wishes to return home, only upon his eventual return finds himself becoming a hero of the people and drawn into the political games of a self absorbed and childish ruler who has just inherited the throne. Unfortunately, Robin Hood is neither a refinement of the earlier work, nor does it expand the themes in any significant way. Instead, their efforts to recreate Gladiator only succeed in doubly damning the film, as the film not only fails to live up to Gladiator, but fails to work as a tale of Robin Hood as well.

If Scott and Crowe were so determined to recreate Gladiator, than one has to wonder why the duo bothered with Robin Hood at all. The legend has always felt more in line with superheroes than it does with grand scale epics. The stories are often episodic in nature, focusing on a band of outlaws who not only rob from the rich and give to the poor (an activity which only happens once in Scott's film I might add), but set out to humiliate a corrupt government and defend the defenseless while hiding out in the forest. Yes, they were military men, and a film focusing on that part of their lives might have been interesting. However, the approach in this film of making Robin a contemplative soldier who yearns to be free of violence only succeeds in transforming the character into one of a million similar characters to populate cinema in recent years.

In an odd way, this homogenized version of the Robin Hood character is encapsulated in the film's action scenes, which are as skillful and professional as any Scott has directed. However, the one thing Robin Hood is known for, if nothing else, is that he uses a bow and arrow. While this weapon of choice does make appearances throughout the film, more often than not time is spent focusing on Robin in sword based combat. One of the key plot points in the film even is about the passing down of a sword from father to son, a sword which ultimately ends up in the hands of Robin. While the passing on of a sword may be more historically accurate (I assume here, but am more than willing to be corrected), given that this is Robin Hood we are talking about, a focus on his weapon of preference would not only have been welcome, but at least give the film something to distinguish it from similar films. Not much of a distinguishing mark mind you, but still a distinction.

The biggest problem with the film however is just how vapid it is. The film is void of any real subtext or meaning, stating so many of its themes and ideas outright that it never gives the audience a chance to think for itself. Yes, it is a summer blockbuster, but it is no excuse. Scott has made vastly intelligent films before without sacrificing intelligence. Even the commentary on violent spectacle in Gladiator was of some interest, even if the film was guilty of the very thing it was criticizing.

I should point out at this point that Robin Hood is not terrible. The film is beautifully shot by director of photography John Mathieson (who surprisingly does not use of the colour blue that often this time out, a possible first in a long while for Ridley Scott), and the cast of the film is uniformly excellent. The problem is just that so much of what is here feels like warmed over seconds rather than a bold creative venture for those involved. Ridley Scott has been long known for tackling pretty much every genre under the sun, usually with a high level of ambition, so to see him rest on past success is more disheartening than anything else.

While general audiences will likely be pleased, fans of Ridley Scott are more than likely to be disappointed in the final effort, while fans of Robin Hood are likely to just be angry with the film overall. Judge where ye stand well, and go forth and make ye decision.

Gunless (Phillips 2010)

One of the more peculiar elements of America is the prominence which guns have in their society and culture. From the right to bear arms to the continued resistance to gun control legislation, guns just seem to be something of an obsession. Take a look at American cinema: from the action film to the thriller, guns tend to get quite a bit of screen time, and are perhaps mythologized most in the Western genre, where the gun is both the symbol of the wildness of the west while simultaneously acting as the primary tool for the forces of civilization.

It is this gun obsession which William Phillips’ 2010 Canadian Western comedy Gunless attempts to examine, juxtaposing the “code of the west” against the culture of its northern neighbour, aka my home country. The end result of this effort is a rarity for Canadian cinema: a mostly successful populist film which manages to dodge the usual pitfalls of imitating American genre pictures without Hollywood budgets whilst shoehorning in Canadian references where they are not needed. Instead, the highly allegoric film relies on strong comedic performances from its talented cast, lead by Canadian icon Paul Gross and Sienna Guillory, verbal wit rather than endless slapstick, and a dedication to embracing the more serious side of its chosen subject matter.

Gunless’ story is that of the Montana Kid (Gross), an American gunslinger on the run from a group of bounty hunters for having killed seven men on record, each in a fair gunfight. The Kid’s latest escape from his pursuers lands him in a small Canadian town where he quickly challenges a local blacksmith to a gunfight for the “offence” of looking after the Kid’s horse. There is just one problem: there is no working pistol in town. Bent on getting his gunfight, the Kid agrees to a local woman’s (Guillory) proposal: if he helps her build a windmill on her property, she will let him have her long broken pistol to mend. As the time passes and his pursuers ride closer to town, the Kid finds himself increasingly confused by the culture around him as well as being conflicted about his own identity as a gunslinger.

The film’s hypothesis as to why guns and a culture of violence persist in America today is a surprisingly intelligent one, dodging the culture of fear proposed in Michael Moore’s Bowling for Columbine and instead pointing towards the guilt and fear of admitting past failings as a society and culture. The Montana Kid is a character weighed down by the acts of violence he has committed, and in order to cope with the guilt has mythologized his entire identity in order to live and function as an individual. In the best scene of the film, the Kid breaks down why it is that he cannot back down from a gunfight and the implications of this speech suggest that admittance to being wrong in his use of violence in any situation would be tantamount to being wrong in all cases. The allegorical implications of this speach are massive with regards to American history, and transforms the film from being a simple deconstruction of mythology into a study of how mythology, particularly national mythology, serves the needs of both individuals and nations.

Where the film falters however is in its mythologizing of Canada at the same time as it deconstructs the myths of the America West. Unlike America, Canada has never had a strong national mythology to draw upon. As such, our tendency has been to rewrite our past with more recent national myths which have been at best dubious. Multiculturalism and peaceful existence are high ideals to have, but the degree to which we as a country have succeeded in upholding such values is questionable, and certainly not ideals we have managed to uphold in the past. Canada's history features no less than two attempted uprisings in the American mould,and the treatment of both aboriginal groups and Japanese immigrants are some of the darker parts of our history. The film instead projects these lesser traits wholly onto the American bounty hunters in the film, thus allowing Canada to get off nearly free of our failings. It doesn’t sink the film, but it is a misstep which needs to be critically examined.

However, I don’t wish to give the impression that the film is a weighty sociological study. Gunless from start to finish is a predictable, lighthearted comedy carried on the backs of its likable cast. Gross is in fine form here, showing that he is a capable leading man when his is willing to forgo the self important and indulgent tendencies often seen in his “auteur” projects, and Guillory manages to make a perfect foil for Gross. However, the biggest surprise in the film is Tyler Mane of X-Men and Halloween remake fame, as the blacksmith at the center of the Kid’s problems. While not award winning work, Mane show far greater skills as a performer than has been seen thus far, proving that he has the ability to take on greater challenges as an actor than merely silent killer number three.

Phillips writing and direction are solid, if unremarkable. At numerous points, Phillips allows the film to be too heavy handed, bringing far too much obvious attention to the presence of guns in the film when a more subtle approach would have worked. However, Phillips keeps a tight control on the production as director, carefully grounding the film in a sense of realism while keeping his actors in check from going overbroad. He isn’t going to be in the big leagues with David Cronenberg anytime soon, but he accomplishes what he sets out to do.

If Gunless suffers from any major problem, it’s that it has been released at the wrong time. I don’t know who planned the release date, but opening the film a week before Iron Man 2 was one of the more idiotic moves I’ve seen in recent cinema, dooming the film to obscurity. If it is playing near you at the moment, I would highly recommend seeing Gunless while you still can. Tony Stark will still be around to give your money over to next weekend. Gunless needs it now.

The Losers (White 2010)

The sad thing about The Losers is that for its entire running time, you can tell the filmmakers were trying hard to make this film work. This isn’t a half assed effort of a film; from the directing of Sylvain White to the acting, everyone brought an A level effort to the film, and you have to admire that. The problem is none of that effort ultimately makes The Losers a decent film going experience.

A partial update on the premise of the 1980s television cheese fest The A-Team, The Losers is an adaptation of a mature readers’ comic book series of the same name, following a group of special operations soldiers who are left for dead and framed for the murder of a group of children in Bolivia by their handler Max (Jason Patric). Understandably angry, the group takes up the offer from a mysterious woman named Aisha (Zoe Saldana) to bankroll their return to America in exchange for killing Max. This is only the start of their troubles however as group tensions and the mysterious identity of Aisha threaten to unravel the whole scheme.

The material is standard action fare, but workable for a fun, if vapid, film. So why does The Losers ultimately not work? While the film suffers from several flaws, they are all the result of the film’s attempt to achieve the rarified status of “cool.” While there are many things in both life and film which hope to become cool, the common denominator for most things which do become cool is that don’t actively seek to gain that status, but rather have the status of “cool” pronounced upon them by the culture in a natural way. Actively seeking the status of “cool” more often than not achieves the opposite result, and it is this problem that dodges nearly every moment of The Losers.

The type of “cool” which the filmmakers behind The Losers wish to achieve is clear from the outset, as they try and blend 1980s style “men on a mission” action films with the pop culture soaked wit and syntax of the post-Pulp Fiction era of American filmmaking. The characters which populate this world are media saturated individuals who wear this knowledge on their sleeves and take little of what happens around them in an overly serious fashion, not being quite as ironically detached as some of Quentin Tarantino’s characters while never being as ethically obsessive as Jason Bourne.

What the filmmakers miss however is that the films they are trying to emulate, even at their most frothy, tend to have a better sense of grounding which never exists in this film. While the popular culture may be the way in which many people structure and express their views of the world in both real life and in film, the important thing is that such expressions are still about something tangible. Randal of Clerks and Clerks 2 fame may spend most of his time discussing pop culture, but his choices of topics and the way in which he chooses to talk them tell us much about his concerns, thoughts and ideals. Even the absurd macho posturing of the military unit in Predator tells us something about those characters, as simple as it may be.

The same cannot be said about the characters of The Losers, where nearly every character mouths off in and endless series of light banter which exists solely to be light hearted banter. Consider the characters of Jensen (Chris Evans) and Pooch (Columbus Short): I can honestly tell you next to nothing about these characters because there is nothing to say. One has a wife and another a niece, but those details amount to little. I cannot even tell you which one for sure is the obligatory smartass of the group, because their dialogue is frequently interchangeable. This is not the fault of the actors at all, as they make due with what they have. The problem is that they have nothing of substance to work with, transforming the film into more of a sketch comedy than an action comedy.

The villains fair no better than the heroes in the film, if not worse because they are nearly cartoons with no menace to them. Oh yes, Jason Patric is amusing to watch as Max, but at no moment is he ever a credible threat. He is a bad guy because, well, the film needed a villain, and therefore he must do villainous things. We are constantly reminded about how dangerous he and his organization of criminals are, but we are never actually shown anything to make us believe that. The Losers make frequent note as to how tough and frightening Max’s right hand man Wade (Holt McCallany) is, but the film never gives you one moment to believe that concept. Instead, we are treated to some admittedly funny scenes of misunderstandings, banter and frustrations between the super villain duo, but they would have worked better in an outright parody of the genre than in this film.

All of this is all the more annoying because there are nice moments and elements in the finished production. Chris Evans manages to come out of the film totally unscathed, thanks to a natural charisma and comic timing that rises well above the material, and the idea of environmentally friendly terrorism is an amusing idea, even though it goes nowhere in the film. And I would be remiss if I didn’t point out the excellent the use of Journey on the soundtrack in the film’s best moment.

That is just the point though: the film is nothing but moments. I honestly cannot recommend The Losers as anything more than a time killer if you actually have some time to kill. It is an entirely disposable film, likely to be forgotten about as soon as it is over, a point that no film wanting to be cool can ever survive.

Kick Ass (Vaughn 2010)

Here is the truth about Kick Ass and me: I honestly don’t have much of anything to say about the film, and that is not because the film is awful in any way shape or form. I had a great time watching the film, and the film is one that is jam packed with ideas and moments designed to provoke, shock and move the audience. Everyone, from director Mathew Vaughn down to actress Chloe Moretz, has more or less nailed this adaptation of the comic, save a minor flaw or two. They have crafted one hell of a film out of the tale of a idealistic, superhero obsessed teenager (Aaron Johnson) who becomes an internet sensation after video of him fighting crime (poorly) is posted online.

So, you might be asking, if the film is so great, why am I lacking in having much to say about the film? After all, I am the man who wasted over three thousand words on the Universal Soldier films. Believe me when I say it isn’t for a lack of trying. I have come at this film in every possible way I know how, and all that came with it was pure frustration.

Instead, I have spent a good amount of time mulling over why I have felt no need to say anything about the film, and the answer only really dawned on me over the past twenty four hours. While it is somewhat odd to say, Kick Ass feels like it has already been discussed to death, torn apart and analysed in detail. This is of course absurd, as the film has only just been released. However, when you come right down to it, Kick Ass is really more or less a dramatization of the higher end of comic geek discussions on message forums across the web, about our own forms of spectatorship, our obsession with superheroes, what fantasy means to us as individuals and as a society. And much like a forum discussion, Kick Ass is alternatively insightful, horrifying, vulgar, funny and contradictory.

The catch 22 of this is that because of this familiarity, most of the propositions and satirical observations made are already familiar for the target audience. We have already had these conversations time and time again. It is fun to see these thoughts put on screen, given life, but for long term comic fans, Kick Ass doesn’t provide any new insights or propositions that we haven’t heard before, particularly having gone through the deconstruction tales of the 1980s and 1990s comics.

This leaves the general audience as being the one to which Kick Ass will have the most to offer, and this is the audience who will likely be the least receptive to the finished work, with its moral ambiguity, emphasis on geek culture and moments of grotesque violence. Even the supposed shocking nature of the violence featuring a child is not a major shock for those who have watched films such as Robocop 2 (1990), written by comic auteur Frank Miller.

In the end, Kick Ass is fun, providing plenty of laughs and, more importantly, giving Nicolas Cage a great comic character to play. Is it a classic though? I would say it is a film that is certainly of the moment, and will earn a well beloved cult reputation over the years. But it is not the big watershed event some would like to make it out to be, nor the film to push the comic to film genre to new heights. With all likelihood, the film will become lost as the decade moves on.

Alice in Wonderland (Burton 2010)

Let’s go back to 1992, and examine a little film known as Batman Returns from director Tim Burton. A sequel to 1989’s Batman, also by Burton, Batman Returns is a bit of a departure for fans of the first film, as it transforms Batman’s world into more of a fairytale as opposed to the fantastic noir hell of the first film: characters are resurrected by cats without any explanation; the settings or more fantastical and elaborate; the character’s more symbolic and stylized than before; etc. However, the film never goes far enough with this fairytale concept, as the film is still partly rooted in realism, with story lines involving backdoor politics and corporate maneuvering, which calls for more cohesive logic than a fairytale does. Hence, elements such as rocket launching penguins, which would work in fairytale logic, seem out of place and illogical as the two sides of the film battle it out.

Why do I bring up Batman Returns in a review for Alice in Wonderland, Burton’s newest film? In an odd way, the problem that Batman Returns suffers from also plagues Alice in Wonderland, only in reverse. Despite the source material offering Burton a chance to truly follow his imagination to its full, unfettered heart’s content, he has instead crafted a narrative that is oddly conservative, brining a level of logic and coherence to a universe that itself was designed to counter, or at least question, the logic of everyday reality.

The story of Alice in Wonderland is not that of the classic tales, but is rather something of a sequel. Alice (Mia Wasikowska), now nineteen, discovers that the party she has been dragged to by her mother is an engagement party, with Alice herself being asked to marry the son of a wealthy lord. At the moment of decision, Alice flees, following the infamous White Rabbit down a rabbit hole, leading her to Wonderland, a place she has forgotten. However, Wonderland itself is now ruled by the Red Queen (Helen Bonham Carter), having used the Jabberwocky as a means of taking control from her sister, the White Queen (Anne Hathaway). Alice is prophesized to slay the Jabberwocky, an idea which she resists, but when many of her friends, including the Mad Hatter (Johnny Depp) are captured, Alice begins a mission to rescue them, one which will force her to face the prophecy head on.

It’s no secret that Burton’s best characters, and the ones he always seems most interested in, are those that are outsiders to everyday society, each of these characters being visual and ideological contrasts to accepted societal norms. It is no mistake that Burton’s worst film, Planet of the Apes, forced him to work with an average, archetypal leading man and focus on the human characters: Burton is clearly far more interested in the apes and their world.

Thankfully since Planet of the Apes, Burton has avoided this issue and stuck with his outsider characters, including this version of Alice in Wonderland. Alice here is a woman conflicted by the path before her, with either the option of following tradition and society’s expectations by giving into the idea of marriage, or carving out her own path. Given to flights of fancy and distraction, Alice is a true Burton heroine, shy and awkward, but with big dreams which put her in conflict with the world around her. Alice thus becomes the film's main strength.

The problem with the film lies with Wonderland itself and the conflict Alice becomes wrapped up in upon returning to the fantastic world. By making the battle in Wonderland one over the rightful ruler of the land and having its citizens choose sides, Wonderland is politicized, thus reducing the contrast between the fantastical world that works against logic, and the world of rules from which Alice comes. It brings a level of organization to Wonderland which ultimately absorbs the supposed fringe characters into the mainstream: they are given official sanction to be crazed and peculiar by the White Queen, thus diluting their subversive edge.

This is made all the worse by the biggest casting mistaking in a Burton film since Mark Wahlberg in Planet of the Apes: Anne Hathaway as the White Queen. Try as Burton might, he is unable to make Hathaway into a Burton character. Hathaway is too much of a mainstream Disney Princess to be an outsider. The battle for her to be restored to rightful leadership hence comes off as a battle for restoring the safe Disney brand more than anything else, and her performance only adds to this concept, appearing to put up with her subjects rather than actually like them. She is open to accepting certain levels of eccentricity, but no more than that. The White Queen, to work in this narrative at all, needed to be someone more subversive and not already beloved little children. Someone a little edgier like Winona Ryder would have worked better in the role.

However, to really understand how tame Alice in Wonderland has become, one needs look no further than Depp’s Mad Hatter. Now, Depp is in fine form as usual, and his visual look is amazing. However, the Hatter here isn’t really all that mad. He is far too aware of what is going on around him, too dedicated to a cause to be mad. He is transformed into a sympathetic clown, rather than a dangerous threat to law and order, bouncing between great anger and great sorrow. The Hatter should be more along the lines of Hunter S. Thompson, but instead we are given a sanitized figure that parents can feel comfortable with.

Flaws aside, Alice in Wonderland truly shines in its visual design. This is a Tim Burton world through and through, exaggerated and bordering on creepy in at least a few areas. It is a richly layered world, filled to the brim with little details and working well outside the special effects limits of previous live action adaptations. While it is still early in the year, I would honestly be surprised if the film is passed over for production design awards at next year’s Academy Awards. Only the Jabberwocky disappoints, coming off as a rejected Godzilla monster design, but that is but a small issue in an otherwise gorgeous film.

Still, I would be lying if I didn’t say I was slightly disappointed in the Alice in Wonderland. It isn’t terrible at any rate, but after the greatness of Burton’s last few efforts, it comes off as a lesser work. With any luck, the more dangerous Burton will come out to play next time, hopefully sooner rather than later.

Cop Out (Smith 2010)

Cop Out: it is a tribute to the buddy cop films of the 1980s.

That is about it.

Ok, Cop Out is a decent tribute to the buddy cop films of the 1980s that manages to amuse, but not much more than that. Director Kevin Smith, working for the first time on a script that he himself did not write, claimed that the reason he did the film was because it was one that his father would have loved. While that might be the case, I cannot help but feel that another reason Smith did the film was because he simply needs an outright hit, something which he has never quite managed to achieve thus far in his career. Given how conventional and safe everything is in Cop Out compared to Smith’s usual work, I can only imagine that it must have seemed like a possible contender to be box office smash, as it lacks the wit, warmth and daring of Smith’s best, but financially underperforming, work.

Cop Out follows the story of Jimmy Monroe (Bruce Willis), a cop who’s daughter is about to get married. With the wedding costing $48 000, Jimmy decides to sell a rare baseball card to pay for the whole thing. However, when attempting to sell the card, it is stolen in a hold up, leaving Jimmy and his partner Paul (Tracy Morgan), who is preoccupied with the possibility of his wife cheating on him, to try and recover it.

Cop Out is a work that is so indistinctive that the only thing that really manages to be of any interest is Smith’s involvement in the film. Outside of a few Star Wars references and the appearance in Jason Lee in a cameo, good luck finding anything to mark this as a Smith film. At his best, Smith has always been the most personal of filmmakers, wearing his feelings and ideas of his sleeves on just about any topic he wishes to talk about, from religion (Dogma) to geek culture (Clerks; Clerks II) and even fatherhood (Jersey Girl). Cop Out however is a film that is shocking in just how impersonal it is. Even in the fairly critically slaughtered Jersey Girl, you could feel Smith’s personality shine through, blending toned down crudeness with sweetness in his attempt to pay tribute to his father. Cop Out is just plain crude and not even inventive in its methods of crudeness, seeking no emotional investment on the part of the viewer, nor offering a unique take on the genre. It is pure imitation of better films.

My main question with regards to the film is this: why were Tracy Morgan and Bruce Willis put together in this film? They are actors who work best when taking center stage by themselves, with well defined, bigger than life personalities. Morgan and Willis are not bad together, but they hardly have much in the way of chemistry. Bruce does his thing, and then Tracy does his. Their best moments are actually when they are apart or with other characters, and when a buddy film is at its best when the buddies are apart, then there is a serious issue here. In fact, arguably, the film would have been more interesting if it had followed the rivals of Jimmy and Paul, Hunsaker and Barry played by Kevin Pollack and Adam Brody. That pair are just so bizarre in their behaviour and relationship; it would have been fun to spend time inside their odd little world.

Actually, there is no point about talking about the buddies of the film because there is no reason why this needed to be a buddy film in the first place. The story is supposedly about Jimmy trying to pay for his daughter’s wedding, losing the baseball card that would do just that, and then trying to recover it. What role does Paul serve in all this? Well, nothing: he has his own story that is in no way connected, either plot wise or thematically, to Jimmy’s story. Meshing the two together just creates a narrative mess that goes nowhere. The wedding story is lost and seemingly forgotten until the end of the film, and at no point is the Paul subplot about his wife’s possible infidelity treated with any actual weight. The events simply happen, with no actual meaning or impact upon the characters. Cut down to one story, the film at least might have been focused.

I could go on Cop Out, but there is very little point. If you attend, you will be amused, but not much else. It is simply a film that exists as product, tying over the cast and crew until better film projects come along.

Justice League: Crisis on Two Earths (Liu and Montgomery 2010)

Here is the thing about Justice League - Crisis on Two Earths: it is a massive step up from last year’s Superman/Batman – Public Enemies. This time out, the whole film is more than just an excuse to throw together fight scenes, actually telling a story with a focus on characters with a better sense of plotting. When all is said and done however, Justice League – Crisis on Two Earths is perhaps the most disposable of the DC Animated films, telling an all too familiar tale in a rather tame manner.

The set up is straight forward: on a parallel Earth, Lex Luthor (Chris Noth) is a renegade hero who is working to stop the Crime Syndicate, a group of villains made up of alternate versions of the Justice League members, or their rough equivalents, whom control all the organized crime on Earth. The only thing keeping the Syndicate in check is the threat of nuclear retaliation; otherwise, they run the show. In a last ditch effort to stop them, Luthor crosses over to another dimension to enlist the help of the Justice League, which includes Superman (Mark Harmon), Batman (William Baldwin), Wonder Woman (Vanessa Marshall) and J’onn J’onzz (Jonathan Adams) among others. However, their arrival may be too late, as Syndicate member Owlman (James Woods) has a far more sinister scheme up his sleeve, a plan which will place more than one Earth in peril.

At this point, the usual compliments can be guessed at: the animation is solid, the character design excellent, and the music appropriate, if indistinctive. Dwayne McDuffie, one of the key writers on the Justice League animated series, delivers a solid script that keeps things moving while giving little character moments for most of the main cast, with only a few moments of bad dialogue to mar the proceedings (after this film, all speeches about how alike a given hero and villain combo are should be banned). Directors Sam Liu and Lauren Montgomery are sharp and focused in their work, keeping things moving with a tight grasp on the narrative. Lastly, the cast delivers excellent performances, the most notable cast members being Baldwin as a more sorrowful than usual Batman, and James Woods as the creepy and philosophical Owlman.

All in all, Justice League – Crisis on Two Earths is a professional piece of work. My only question to everyone involved in its production is this:

Why this story?

Up till this point, I have understood the reasons for each of the films produced. The death of Superman is one of the big stories from the last twenty years of comics, so it was natural for it to be turned into a film, while New Frontiers, in addition to its popularity among fans, is an intelligent homage and meta-commentary on the rise of the silver age of comics. Filtering Batman through the eyes of anime’s top animators, along with some of the best writers available, made for an interesting experiment in Batman – Gotham Knights, while Wonder Woman and Green Lantern’s origins were fertile ground for films given how unknown they are outside of comic circles. And even if the execution failed, the premise and themes of Superman/Batman – Public Enemies had much to offer.

Justice League – Crisis on Two Earths however is just a long Justice League episode with a semi-celebrity cast. The parallel Earth angle has been done with more weight and purpose on the series itself. None of the League members undergo any significant development, the Crime Syndicate isn’t given enough time to be explored as characters, and the direction that the story heads into towards the end is standard fare. It doesn’t even really take advantage of the PG-13 rating: there are episodes of the series that are more intense than this film. Cut the cursing, and I can almost guarantee that a PG rating could have been secured.

The only thing I can think of that would have anyone pushing to have this story realized on film is the character of Owlman, who is fascinating and the best part of the film by far. His motives are creepy, if not nihilistic, and as performed by Woods, has a bleak humour that makes him compelling. The problem is that not nearly enough time is spent with him to make up for the time he is off screen.

I honestly don’t know if I can recommend Justice League – Crisis on Two Earths, at least as anything more than a rental. For hard core comic fans, it offers nothing that we haven’t already seen, and for non-comic fans, nothing that you will regret missing. As for Bruce Timm and company, how about for one of your upcoming films the Alan Moore story Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow? If nothing else, no one can say that it has been done before, and it’s not as if you have to worry about pleasing Moore: he’ll hate anything no matter how well it is produced.

The Wolfman (Johnston 2010)

At the end of my review of the original Wolf Man, I stated that Joe Johnston and Benicio Del Toro had the opportunity to take the ambitious but flawed original and make an even greater film, unlike so many remakes which can go nowhere but down. While Johnston and Del Toro’s Wolfman never exactly achieves being greater than the original, at the risk of getting flack from classic horror fans, I am going to say that it equals the original, carving out its own path, with its own strengths and suffering from different weaknesses. Furthermore, at the risk of getting outright slaughtered, I am also going to say that the new Wolfman is the more enjoyable film.

The new Wolfman, set in the late 1800s, follows the story of Lawrence Talbot (Del Toro), a stage actor called home by his missing brother’s fiancée Gwen (Emily Blunt). Upon his arrival at the decaying family home, headed by distant patriarch, Sir John Talbot (Anthony Hopkins), Lawrence discovers that his brother’s body has been found horribly mutilated. At the request of Gwen, Lawrence stays to try and solve what happened, and in the process winds up at a gypsy encampment just as it is attacked by a menacing animal, leaving Talbot injured. Soon enough, he begins to suffer strange symptoms, and becomes drawn into a greater and more personal mystery than he had originally anticipated.

Early in the film, a scene is shown of Lawrence performing Hamlet on stage, and to those familiar with Shakespeare’s masterpiece, the foundation upon which the new Wolfman has been built will be immediately recognizable. While the original Wolf Man was certainly tragic, the new Wolfman is an outright familial tragedy, dealing with madness, various Oedipus complexes, and murder. Many of the basic elements from the original film remain, yet the new production sets about crafting its own identity as a horror version of Shakespeare's play and refusing to be slave to what has come before. While it never quite succeeds in being the horror genre’s Hamlet, the ambition on the part of the filmmakers shows in every frame of the film, a passion that is often missing in most horror remakes.

The original film is structured through a series of oppositions which Larry Talbot (Lon Chaney Jr.) finds himself caught between with no real sense of control. The film pits institutionalized patriarchy and marginalized matriarchy against one another, each side being aligned with other opposing concepts: rationalism and emotionalism; science and superstition; etc. While rich in complex ironies, the original film is very clean and organized in its presentation of these concepts, both on the literal and figurative levels, such the town embodying civilization and the woods becoming the center of uncontrolled instincts. While the approach works, it also helps to make the original film a very stilted affair as it tries too hard to lay everything out in an easily digestible manner, a problem point for a film that deals with themes of the repressed and uncontrollable.

The new Wolfman does away with such oppositions, as the complex issues are internalized in Lawrence himself rather than being represented by external forces in the narrative. This results in a far more driven and emotional Lawrence, who actively fights back against his own internal impulses and conflicts which stem from his childhood experiences. As played by Del Toro, Lawrence is a man whose calm reserve is little more than a thin mask for the turmoil going on beneath the surface. It is a very physical performance, even without the elaborate makeup, and Del Toro manages to utilize his body language to do much of the work for him, even working in gestures that are reminiscent of Chaney Jr. The Wolfman has been a long admitted passion project for Del Toro, and he clearly is giving it his all here.

The shift in how the underlying issues of the film are organized is further reflected in the presentation of the town and woods, which are no longer distinct entities that boarder one another, but instead bleed into each other, enveloping all who reside there in its dark, murky aesthetic. London, which has a large presence in the film, is the new site of supposed rationalism and progression, and the place in which we first find Lawrence. Yet London itself is a visually dark and chaotic mess, an urban hell that itself is torn asunder by the issues it denies and mocks in one of the film’s most memorable sequences.

I really should take a moment to talk about the visual look of the film, from the wonderful production design to the gorgeous cinematography of Shelly Johnson. The world created by director Johnston and his crew is nothing short of spectacular, visually emulative of the horror films of old, and designed in a manner that manages to evoke stage play like artifice without breaking the sense of a lived in world. There are frames that are so rich in detail that I cannot wait until the Blu Ray is released to study them. Only a few moments of CGI mar the film, particularly a scene with a CGI bear that really wasn’t necessary, but the sheer level of practical effects in the film is amazing given the era in which we live, the standout being the makeup effects of Rick Baker.

Still, the main reason the film works is because of its cast, primarily Del Toro and Hopkins. While Del Toro’s work has already been covered, Hopkins needs to be singled out because, if for no other reason, he seems to actually be giving the film his all rather than coasting for a paycheque as he has often done in the past ten years. While it is hard to discuss his character without spoilers, Hopkins manages to sell even the oddest of moments by giving every action of Talbot’s a sense of giddy, insane glee without hamming it up, except where appropriate.

The film does have its failings. While the film is double the length of the original, the opening third of the film still feels like it is going by at a record pace. Some scenes, such as the first meeting between Lawrence and his father, feel as if entire sections of the scene have gone missing. These scenes function well enough, but they don’t always allow the atmosphere to sink in as much as one would like. Similarly, while the werewolf scenes are for the most part expertly handled, some of these scenes towards the climax of the film begin to feel a little over the top, emulative of a superhero film rather than a horror film. Such moments are brief, but are annoying none the less. The same issue plagues some of the film’s gore, though it was nice to see the filmmakers embrace an R rating rather than toning the picture down for a PG-13.

Still, The Wolfman is a worthy remake. It manages to make entire errors of its own, but nothing that outright sinks the film. Furthermore, in a time where old fashioned horror filmmaking is in short supply, The Wolfman manages to evoke the past in a way that doesn’t feel like it is merely recycling the past, and is well worth checking out.