For those folks who were big fans of this International Best-Seller, there is a great movie out there. The film adaptation of Water for Elephants (or Like Water for Elephants as I will always call it) is a true-to-the page piece. The fact of the matter is that I am a reader of the book who had certain problems with its story and I believe they persist. What this movie will be for someone who has no relationship to the story -- I don't precisely know. And as I have mulled it over these past days since I screened the pachyderm pic, I realize that I can't give it a rave. The truth is that it is a beautifully filmed problematic picture that didn't take the time to iron out the problems that existed in the source material. While there's something to be said for loyalty, there's also something to be said for wisdom and straight-up "ironing." A book can have wrinkles a film can't. It was surprising to watch them persist.
Non-readers, fear not! I won't spoil the plot!
When it comes to the cast of characters this was the perfect professional move.
Robert Pattinson is three movies deep into the Twilight Saga -- Saga by the way? -- and try as people might, Remember Me wasn't exactly the break-out "I'm not just a vampire" folks desired. The fact is getting blasted by Voldemoort and becoming -- well... DEAD and looking a lot like Edward Cullen is far more of one of Pattinson's "also-knowns." But the young cute veterinary student whose parents are killed in a car crash and who innocently joins the circus in the midst of The Great Depression to stand up for the animals -- and who is far and away the most handsome attraction in the three rings... well that's a role you take. Half the folks who are coming to the movie are already in love with his character -- that's a good starting point. The problem is this character has virtually no arc. He never outsmarts anyone. He never comes up with anything. He is never the wisest person in the room. He is the young innocent throughout the entire film who is caught up in the wrong situation -- shit, who wouldn't be on a circus train? But the cool factor Pattinson has been building these past years is completely lost in Jake the vet.
What Pattinson has going for him is a heart of gold, flattering period outfits, his looks -- duh -- and the young Ms. Witherspoon.
This role was a wise choice for Reese.
The James L. Brooks picture didn't go as anyone planned -- it couldn't have. And no one can blame any of the folks who got on board. Rudd, Wilson, Witherspoon, Nicholson? Nicholson alone you say yes. Then you pair Jack with a writer/director who's responsible for two of his three Oscars? It's a no-brainer. Turns out the film was mindless. Funny how that works.
But why not play the absolute beauty, high atop her mystical horses, later holding the reins of the titular elephant. Dashing evening dresses, sequins performance-wear, endless champagne, and the object of every man's desire -- young and old. It's a daring choice for a woman as young as Reese to play the "slightly" older than the young hot thing role. But it's a smart move. She isn't Bella Swan. She's Elle Woods. Doesn't mean they both don't end up with Pattinson. Why not get in on the reverse angle of the slight-age gap romance? There's no cougar quality here -- this is just a question of kindred spirits of similar "soul age" finding one another in a tumultuous world they never intended to be a part of. And Reese looks great. She's a believable circus performer -- though her intensity is a far cry from a certain rollercoaster ride I seem to remember.
The problem is August -- the role played by Oscar winning "Bingo" Nazi, Christoph Waltz. None of this blame rests on Waltz' head. It lies somewhere in the novel -- somewhere in the translation of the character to the screen -- and ends up right there before your eyes, in my good pal, the flickering light-beam. One gets the impression -- particularly from his proclamations -- that August is a horribly abusive man who has done what it takes over the year to stay on top. Much of what it has taken has been absolute criminal behavior including murder! You can call it "red lighting" all you want when you huck a person off a fast moving train onto the rocks. When their brains get dashed out somewhere between Albany and Weehawken -- I call that murder. And yet we're supposed to buy into his troubles. Sympathize with his troubles. Forgive him because of his troubles. I asked the book, I asked the film, and now I ask you, America, what on earth are his troubles?
The man is a wife-abuser, a psychopath, a thief. And just for future film reference to all of planet earth -- a German accent never helps these maladies.
And then there's the animal abuse. It's one thing to write about it. To throw some italics into the text so we know just how bad it's actually getting!! (<--Note the double exclamation points!!) It's just not something you can film. This isn't an Inarritu pic -- this is something whose visual landscape gives one the impression of ... well... Seabiscuit -- a movie I highly enjoy. But you're not going to really watch that horse go through anything.
And thus we don't really watch all too much happen here -- we simply know it has -- we flashback to it -- we see the black-eye -- we hear the rumor. It's not precisely a "show don't tell" problem, either. What on earth are you going to show? I don't want to watch an elephant get beaten. And even at my most misanthropic, I never want to see a person suffer -- hence my complicated relationship with the work of Marty Scorcese. And that's not the kind of helmer this picture required.
And somehow, the majesty of it all -- including a great flashback lead-in by the always amazing Hal Holbrook -- overcomes the pictures flaws. We're in the good land of literary adaptation. Just settle in for a ride through a visualized novel.
And if you do happen to actually read this blog and think otherwise, I'd love to hear your thoughts -- especially if you're a non-reader.
-Matthew J. McCue
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Hanna: My apologies on the delayed review
The fact that I have taken this long to put a review of Hanna into the Film Nook is a true "shame on me." An immediate run to the phonebooth and tell the boys back in the copy room which story to run with would have been the far better approach. However, this little blog of mine -- much as I like to let it shine -- is a tiny little subdeal that is more or less still a hobby. Life gets in the way and you end up doing unspeakable things like ... oh, I don't know... reviewing Insidious and The Lincoln Lawyer first.
So let's get to Hanna.
Joe Wright came into the film world as the capable director of Pride and Prejudice. And the way he made the splash with his period piece was not as others have -- quickly redoing a well known text and then fading through the arthouse scene -- particularly those venues that favor assisted listening devices and patrons who travel with ample amounts of crinkly plastic bags. No, Joe Wright's Pride was a thing of beauty with an exceptional cast and an Oscar nominated performance from the good Ms. Knightley.
The follow-up was the adaptation of Atonement a film whose middling success is something that still baffles me. Everything I thought Mr. Wright had correct was somehow problematic to many audience members -- despite its multiple Oscar nominations, including one for best picture. For those of use who were enthralled with Ian McEwan's novel, there could not have been a better adaptation. Christopher Hampton's script reminded the world what a master of adaptation he truly is -- summoning up writing on the level of his Dangerous Liaisons and Carrington screenplays. The photography was near flawless, the performances heartbreaking, the passion lush, the betrayal heart-wrenching, and the pacing just as I'd imagined. That movie was that book and that book was wonderful. What did people want? Furthermore, it behooves me to emphasize my extreme love for Mr. Wright's extended take during the beach battle scene. The choreography of that shot was no minor undertaking and was the perfect time to let the camera roll and roll. Lord knows I love it when a real director knows how to let the camera roll.
And then it seemed there was a crisis of some kind that Joe Wright was going to become Mr. Period Piece -- as if that is the worst thing in the world and should be avoided at all costs. The two he made -- which took place in different centuries -- were excellent pieces of work. Why, one wonders, did he make The Soloist his next project. I love Robert Downey, Jr. more than most people on the planet do. I have seen them all folks. I've seen Fur. Two Girls and a Guy? Oh, I've seen it. The man's divine. But this Soloist ... this was a down home doozie.
Which brings us -- at long last -- to Hanna.
Joe Wright could have done anything as a follow up to The Soloist. One might have thought that he would have turned around and gone running headlong into the arms of successful literature and taken on something that at least required hiking one's skirts when heading through the long grass (that covers a lot of previous centuries). But he didn't. This director proved his salt by taking on the remarkably original Hanna.
The photography makes one wonder if it was adapted from a graphic novel -- it's not. This yarn is the work of screenwriters who created a remarkable young female protagonist thrown into excellently original circumstances: Your father (Eric Bana -- like that isn't reason enough to run to the box office) saved you, took you out into the wild and trained you to be a killer. And yet, there's no denying that you're a blossoming teenage girl and after a while, one has to assume yak meat and endless martial art and combat training gets a little tiresome. Young Hanna (Saoirse Ronan) longs to see the world.
Her heart has the same desires as Ariel, Belle, even Rapunzel -- of course, none of these folks is capable of taking out a group of CIA operatives and vanishing into the folds of a ridiculously (and I do mean ridiculously) intricate ventilation system. You pair all that up with a psychotic Cate Blanchett -- over the top Zak Snyder like framing and a score from the Chemical Brothers -- and you know what you've got on your hands? A damn fine movie.
What I found to be most interesting -- besides, of course, the badass kills, Cate Blanchett once again giving yet another amazing performance as a completely different individual, and Eric Bana hauling hs rugged self out of the water -- were the small heart to heart moments Hanna has with her new found teenage friend. In this age of The Hunger Games where the idea of a female vigilante is not exactly news to the youth world -- what made it novel in this picture was that it seemingly took place in some off beat time period that may as well be now. Hanna's run-ins with regular everyday folk like Olivia Williams -- looking oddly reminiscent of Greta Scacchi back in her Player days -- raise excellent questions about what this little girl from the combative bubble makes of our world. This isn't some brand new place where particular rules have been put in place that force a situation that could only take place in the future. This is more of an Alex Garland/Danny Boyle "may very well be happening, particularly in the middle of Europe and with people who drive cars like that" kind of scenario. It's Firestarter without the flames. But why not trade a tearful Drew Barrymore, a scared-of-the-dark George C. Scott, and a nosebleeding Dad -- for a cold blooded killer, wrapped in wolf pelts, waiting for her first kiss?
The ending could have been more powerful. I will not argue that point. It was a situation where the absolute solution to the mystery was a let down -- no questions asked. But the way the plot played itself out worked perfectly. The actions could not have taken another course -- only their ultimate motivation. Frankly, this is nothing to hold against a film that delivers -- with a wallop -- 95% of the time.
Definitely give it a view.
- Matthew J. McCue
So let's get to Hanna.
Joe Wright came into the film world as the capable director of Pride and Prejudice. And the way he made the splash with his period piece was not as others have -- quickly redoing a well known text and then fading through the arthouse scene -- particularly those venues that favor assisted listening devices and patrons who travel with ample amounts of crinkly plastic bags. No, Joe Wright's Pride was a thing of beauty with an exceptional cast and an Oscar nominated performance from the good Ms. Knightley.
The follow-up was the adaptation of Atonement a film whose middling success is something that still baffles me. Everything I thought Mr. Wright had correct was somehow problematic to many audience members -- despite its multiple Oscar nominations, including one for best picture. For those of use who were enthralled with Ian McEwan's novel, there could not have been a better adaptation. Christopher Hampton's script reminded the world what a master of adaptation he truly is -- summoning up writing on the level of his Dangerous Liaisons and Carrington screenplays. The photography was near flawless, the performances heartbreaking, the passion lush, the betrayal heart-wrenching, and the pacing just as I'd imagined. That movie was that book and that book was wonderful. What did people want? Furthermore, it behooves me to emphasize my extreme love for Mr. Wright's extended take during the beach battle scene. The choreography of that shot was no minor undertaking and was the perfect time to let the camera roll and roll. Lord knows I love it when a real director knows how to let the camera roll.
And then it seemed there was a crisis of some kind that Joe Wright was going to become Mr. Period Piece -- as if that is the worst thing in the world and should be avoided at all costs. The two he made -- which took place in different centuries -- were excellent pieces of work. Why, one wonders, did he make The Soloist his next project. I love Robert Downey, Jr. more than most people on the planet do. I have seen them all folks. I've seen Fur. Two Girls and a Guy? Oh, I've seen it. The man's divine. But this Soloist ... this was a down home doozie.
Which brings us -- at long last -- to Hanna.
Joe Wright could have done anything as a follow up to The Soloist. One might have thought that he would have turned around and gone running headlong into the arms of successful literature and taken on something that at least required hiking one's skirts when heading through the long grass (that covers a lot of previous centuries). But he didn't. This director proved his salt by taking on the remarkably original Hanna.
The photography makes one wonder if it was adapted from a graphic novel -- it's not. This yarn is the work of screenwriters who created a remarkable young female protagonist thrown into excellently original circumstances: Your father (Eric Bana -- like that isn't reason enough to run to the box office) saved you, took you out into the wild and trained you to be a killer. And yet, there's no denying that you're a blossoming teenage girl and after a while, one has to assume yak meat and endless martial art and combat training gets a little tiresome. Young Hanna (Saoirse Ronan) longs to see the world.
Her heart has the same desires as Ariel, Belle, even Rapunzel -- of course, none of these folks is capable of taking out a group of CIA operatives and vanishing into the folds of a ridiculously (and I do mean ridiculously) intricate ventilation system. You pair all that up with a psychotic Cate Blanchett -- over the top Zak Snyder like framing and a score from the Chemical Brothers -- and you know what you've got on your hands? A damn fine movie.
What I found to be most interesting -- besides, of course, the badass kills, Cate Blanchett once again giving yet another amazing performance as a completely different individual, and Eric Bana hauling hs rugged self out of the water -- were the small heart to heart moments Hanna has with her new found teenage friend. In this age of The Hunger Games where the idea of a female vigilante is not exactly news to the youth world -- what made it novel in this picture was that it seemingly took place in some off beat time period that may as well be now. Hanna's run-ins with regular everyday folk like Olivia Williams -- looking oddly reminiscent of Greta Scacchi back in her Player days -- raise excellent questions about what this little girl from the combative bubble makes of our world. This isn't some brand new place where particular rules have been put in place that force a situation that could only take place in the future. This is more of an Alex Garland/Danny Boyle "may very well be happening, particularly in the middle of Europe and with people who drive cars like that" kind of scenario. It's Firestarter without the flames. But why not trade a tearful Drew Barrymore, a scared-of-the-dark George C. Scott, and a nosebleeding Dad -- for a cold blooded killer, wrapped in wolf pelts, waiting for her first kiss?
The ending could have been more powerful. I will not argue that point. It was a situation where the absolute solution to the mystery was a let down -- no questions asked. But the way the plot played itself out worked perfectly. The actions could not have taken another course -- only their ultimate motivation. Frankly, this is nothing to hold against a film that delivers -- with a wallop -- 95% of the time.
Definitely give it a view.
- Matthew J. McCue
Monday, April 18, 2011
The Lincoln Lawyer: McConaughey Rides Again?
In recent years, Matthew McConaughey has received more recognition for his bongo playing, Lance Armstrong wingman-ing, and being the inspiration for some great impersonation work by Matt Damon each and every time he visits Dave Letterman. His leading man status dropped drastically leaving him in the doldrums of romantic comedies like Ghosts of Girlfriends Past and the scandalously unwatched Surfer Dude. Frankly, I am still waiting for my opportunity to see Tip Toes even if it only delivers half of what Tosh 2.0 promised.
Wisely, McConaughey returned to his roots as the defense attorney with a drawl -- this time taking on the lead of Michael Connelly's wildly best-selling crime thrillers. He's not quite as sweaty and swarthy as he was in A Time to Kill -- but this is LA and it's been about fifteen years. My apologies to my little sister and to Casey Wait Fitzgerald -- McC's arms ain't what they used to be. But the man still has a sick body as does co-star Ryan Phillippe -- and director Brad Furman wisely showed their and Tomei's tone off. This is an adult crime thriller after all -- you can't just have a bunch of beaten women and gangsters rolling around. There has to be a bit of skin and intrigue to keep the audience hooked. And I must say, The Lincoln Lawyer does just that.
It is unquestionably good. Great? Well that gets dangerous. But who says it has to be great? In this era of multiple "CSI" franchises, Law & Orders of all varieties, Cold Cases, NCISes, Without A Traces, Criminal Mindses -- it does seem like the crime story you're going to charge for needs exceptional intrigue. However, this is often greatly offset by the fact that movies needn't be completely formulaic and that you can stack a picture with gads of stars -- putting a recognizable face in each role. Everyone here is a known quantity -- and a good one at that. Again, a smart move by McConaughey -- one that probably left co-star Josh Lucas wondering why he wasn't helming the picture and where the hell Bradley Cooper had run off to leaving both of them with significant acting opportunities that could easily be the start of a Michael Connelly run.
The film is at least as good as Kiss the Girls and if Alex Cross is going to get multiple films, why not Connelly's Mick Haller?
Though it isn't raking in the dough at the box office -- this was an exceptional career move that must be praised. The Lincoln Lawyer is doing everything for Matthew McConaughey that Mel Gibson's Edge of Darkness didn't. Perhaps a portion of that success is the quiet roll out of this very simple star vehicle that perfectly shows a side of LA we haven't seen -- despite the fact that it was supposed to be a key player in Street Kings. Yes, I subjected myself to that.
This is a good sign for McC after working his way down the ranks from Grisham's new man on the scene, to the religious expert Jodie Foster refused to date, to the motorcyclist who knew a thing or two about hunting dragons at twilight, to Kate Hudson, to Sarah Jessica, to projects whose camp value is so out of control -- they haven't been released. Bring it back in, get yourself a little drunk and teary eyed, have a close friend die, scream about justice, play it like a chess game, and have the case turn out just as it should. Nice work.
If you don't believe me, toss it into the Netflix queue if only to enjoy Tomei, William H. Macy, Bryan Cranston, John Leguizamo, Michael Pena, Frances Fisher, and Catherine Moennig. This is a good little legal thriller. You won't be let down.
- Matthew J. McCue
Wisely, McConaughey returned to his roots as the defense attorney with a drawl -- this time taking on the lead of Michael Connelly's wildly best-selling crime thrillers. He's not quite as sweaty and swarthy as he was in A Time to Kill -- but this is LA and it's been about fifteen years. My apologies to my little sister and to Casey Wait Fitzgerald -- McC's arms ain't what they used to be. But the man still has a sick body as does co-star Ryan Phillippe -- and director Brad Furman wisely showed their and Tomei's tone off. This is an adult crime thriller after all -- you can't just have a bunch of beaten women and gangsters rolling around. There has to be a bit of skin and intrigue to keep the audience hooked. And I must say, The Lincoln Lawyer does just that.
It is unquestionably good. Great? Well that gets dangerous. But who says it has to be great? In this era of multiple "CSI" franchises, Law & Orders of all varieties, Cold Cases, NCISes, Without A Traces, Criminal Mindses -- it does seem like the crime story you're going to charge for needs exceptional intrigue. However, this is often greatly offset by the fact that movies needn't be completely formulaic and that you can stack a picture with gads of stars -- putting a recognizable face in each role. Everyone here is a known quantity -- and a good one at that. Again, a smart move by McConaughey -- one that probably left co-star Josh Lucas wondering why he wasn't helming the picture and where the hell Bradley Cooper had run off to leaving both of them with significant acting opportunities that could easily be the start of a Michael Connelly run.
The film is at least as good as Kiss the Girls and if Alex Cross is going to get multiple films, why not Connelly's Mick Haller?
Though it isn't raking in the dough at the box office -- this was an exceptional career move that must be praised. The Lincoln Lawyer is doing everything for Matthew McConaughey that Mel Gibson's Edge of Darkness didn't. Perhaps a portion of that success is the quiet roll out of this very simple star vehicle that perfectly shows a side of LA we haven't seen -- despite the fact that it was supposed to be a key player in Street Kings. Yes, I subjected myself to that.
This is a good sign for McC after working his way down the ranks from Grisham's new man on the scene, to the religious expert Jodie Foster refused to date, to the motorcyclist who knew a thing or two about hunting dragons at twilight, to Kate Hudson, to Sarah Jessica, to projects whose camp value is so out of control -- they haven't been released. Bring it back in, get yourself a little drunk and teary eyed, have a close friend die, scream about justice, play it like a chess game, and have the case turn out just as it should. Nice work.
If you don't believe me, toss it into the Netflix queue if only to enjoy Tomei, William H. Macy, Bryan Cranston, John Leguizamo, Michael Pena, Frances Fisher, and Catherine Moennig. This is a good little legal thriller. You won't be let down.
- Matthew J. McCue
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Scream 4: Hell No, Sydney
I've always credited Scream as giving birth to the slasher movie - particularly the teen varietal - in the very same way Clueless gave new birth to teen romantic comedies. While I was actually attending high school there was nary a good movie about high school students released -- whether they were desperate to fall in love or clawing their way through poorly lit hallways in a vain attempt to escape a murderer. In the world of horror -- what we had left was the deep sequels of 80s franchises, adult thrillers crossing their fingers and hoping to high heaven to be half as frightening as Silence of the Lambs and, of course, the disastrous Crow series. Like those films or not -- they shot their lead and if nothing else, it kind of put a kink in the plan.
Then came the Wes Craven/Kevin Williamson powerhouse Scream -- an excellent piece of work. Audiences cheered their heads off each time the phone rang. Drew Barrymore's opening sequence has become nothing short of iconic. Neve Campbell, Skeet Ulrich, Rose McGowan, Matthew Lillard, Jamie Kennedy, David Arquette, Courtney Cox. Each character immediately assumed the iconic roles Williamson and Craven were riffing on. "I'm gonna gut you like a fish!" "Liver alone" "And let's face it, your mom was no Sharon Stone." These are gems. Gems! The audience experience of Scream was superb.
Scream 2 didn't strike me the way it those just a bit younger than me -- maybe because I thought the entire premise of the second killer was absolutely moronic. Maybe because I had been an intern at Miramax/Dimension that summer and accidentally saw who the killer was and consequently the entire viewing experience was "pre-destroyed" for me. Never the less, it stuck to its guns as a franchise, connected the second murder wave to the first, and included such star cast members as Jerry O'Connell, Timothy Olyphant, Joshua Jackson, Jada Pink Smith, Omar Epps, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Rebecca Gayheart, Heather Graham, Portia de Rossi. You didn't have to explain to me that these people were famous nor did you have to go through much to get me hooked on the locale -- a college campus, pledge week. It all seemed to gel -- with the exception of Casey's acting career in some overly done Greek tragedy. As sequels go, I thought it was fine. Most thought it was better.
It was Scream 3 that had me back in. Could be the fact that the entire plot focused on a mix between Roger Corman and Roman Polanski -- could be my raging crush on Scott Foley. But once again, there was a clear connection to the initial killings and the only self-reflexive question of this ongoing franchise was clear: "Who's doing it this time? What does it have to do with the murder of Sydney's mother?" The Hollywood set up worked. They killed major cast members, they threw in Parker Posey and somehow this Ehren Kruger penned screenplay jived with its predecessors.
So here we are at 4. The number that vainly attempted to relaunch the Halloween series and was certainly better than the "silver shamrocking" Halloween 3. But does the "we're back to the beginning" -- "it's Williamson and Craven reteamed" hype actually pay off? The frankest answer I can give is "No."
I very much wanted Scream 4 to be an excellent movie -- so yes, I had high expectations and deliberately attended a midnight showing at a theater where I knew the crowd would be interactive -- yelling things like "take off your heels and run, bitch!" That's what I like to hear. But in the end the twist simply wasn't one and as much as many of the kills were cool -- didn't everyone just get stabbed? Wasn't the point -- since entering sequel land -- that sometimes running from the guy with the knife gets you killed in and of itself. You ran into a spike, a nail-bed, off the roof, or tried to wriggle your way through the wrong garage door. You didn't simply get corned by the knife-man and then wait for the violins to do the rest.
Scream 4 hit a particularly weird moment here -- fifteen years after the original. Who's the audience? Yes, the films are designed to have a murderer and a youthful set of victims who suspect one another but in the end are more help in solving the case than law enforcement -- except, of course, Dewey. We followed high school to college, to young hollywood -- and then we took a ten year break. So who the heck should the cast be now? In the revisionist remake world oft referenced by the film -- it seems we're back to a high school again and working our way forward. No point in making a Scream about a bunch of people in their 30s and 40s -- and at this point most of the original characters have been -- well -- stabbed. So it makes sense.
But who the heck is this cast? I know every single teen star out there and I realize using a Culkin, Emma Roberts, and Hayden Panettiere is a good start. But who the heck is everyone else? They're not WB or "All new CW" stars. They're certainly not the stand-out stars of ABC Family or MTV. Thus the film was already dinged and dented. Are we supposed to simply overlook these teens because everyone else in the film is so much more famous? Or are we supposed to feel old, overlook the significant characters who have been staples of the franchise for fifteen years and three films? The film doesn't seem to know either. The plot is split. The motives are unfocused and while there may be some great kills and a couple of good liners like "I'm going to slice your eyelids in half so you have to watch while I kick your face in" -- it just isn't there.
Could it be that the films Williamson is referencing simply don't jive with Scream? Could it be that they didn't go the whole way and that this fourth installment wasn't even close to the Saw or Hostel style horrors the cast can't get over? It's obviously both of these things. And that they may have already played their best cards -- your Dad is why my Mom left -- you killed my son -- I'm your half brother. The motivation here simply doesn't work and doesn't warrant another run at the windmill.
Thank heavens "Vampire Diaries" is kicking some butt.
- Matthew J. McCue
Then came the Wes Craven/Kevin Williamson powerhouse Scream -- an excellent piece of work. Audiences cheered their heads off each time the phone rang. Drew Barrymore's opening sequence has become nothing short of iconic. Neve Campbell, Skeet Ulrich, Rose McGowan, Matthew Lillard, Jamie Kennedy, David Arquette, Courtney Cox. Each character immediately assumed the iconic roles Williamson and Craven were riffing on. "I'm gonna gut you like a fish!" "Liver alone" "And let's face it, your mom was no Sharon Stone." These are gems. Gems! The audience experience of Scream was superb.
Scream 2 didn't strike me the way it those just a bit younger than me -- maybe because I thought the entire premise of the second killer was absolutely moronic. Maybe because I had been an intern at Miramax/Dimension that summer and accidentally saw who the killer was and consequently the entire viewing experience was "pre-destroyed" for me. Never the less, it stuck to its guns as a franchise, connected the second murder wave to the first, and included such star cast members as Jerry O'Connell, Timothy Olyphant, Joshua Jackson, Jada Pink Smith, Omar Epps, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Rebecca Gayheart, Heather Graham, Portia de Rossi. You didn't have to explain to me that these people were famous nor did you have to go through much to get me hooked on the locale -- a college campus, pledge week. It all seemed to gel -- with the exception of Casey's acting career in some overly done Greek tragedy. As sequels go, I thought it was fine. Most thought it was better.
It was Scream 3 that had me back in. Could be the fact that the entire plot focused on a mix between Roger Corman and Roman Polanski -- could be my raging crush on Scott Foley. But once again, there was a clear connection to the initial killings and the only self-reflexive question of this ongoing franchise was clear: "Who's doing it this time? What does it have to do with the murder of Sydney's mother?" The Hollywood set up worked. They killed major cast members, they threw in Parker Posey and somehow this Ehren Kruger penned screenplay jived with its predecessors.
So here we are at 4. The number that vainly attempted to relaunch the Halloween series and was certainly better than the "silver shamrocking" Halloween 3. But does the "we're back to the beginning" -- "it's Williamson and Craven reteamed" hype actually pay off? The frankest answer I can give is "No."
I very much wanted Scream 4 to be an excellent movie -- so yes, I had high expectations and deliberately attended a midnight showing at a theater where I knew the crowd would be interactive -- yelling things like "take off your heels and run, bitch!" That's what I like to hear. But in the end the twist simply wasn't one and as much as many of the kills were cool -- didn't everyone just get stabbed? Wasn't the point -- since entering sequel land -- that sometimes running from the guy with the knife gets you killed in and of itself. You ran into a spike, a nail-bed, off the roof, or tried to wriggle your way through the wrong garage door. You didn't simply get corned by the knife-man and then wait for the violins to do the rest.
Scream 4 hit a particularly weird moment here -- fifteen years after the original. Who's the audience? Yes, the films are designed to have a murderer and a youthful set of victims who suspect one another but in the end are more help in solving the case than law enforcement -- except, of course, Dewey. We followed high school to college, to young hollywood -- and then we took a ten year break. So who the heck should the cast be now? In the revisionist remake world oft referenced by the film -- it seems we're back to a high school again and working our way forward. No point in making a Scream about a bunch of people in their 30s and 40s -- and at this point most of the original characters have been -- well -- stabbed. So it makes sense.
But who the heck is this cast? I know every single teen star out there and I realize using a Culkin, Emma Roberts, and Hayden Panettiere is a good start. But who the heck is everyone else? They're not WB or "All new CW" stars. They're certainly not the stand-out stars of ABC Family or MTV. Thus the film was already dinged and dented. Are we supposed to simply overlook these teens because everyone else in the film is so much more famous? Or are we supposed to feel old, overlook the significant characters who have been staples of the franchise for fifteen years and three films? The film doesn't seem to know either. The plot is split. The motives are unfocused and while there may be some great kills and a couple of good liners like "I'm going to slice your eyelids in half so you have to watch while I kick your face in" -- it just isn't there.
Could it be that the films Williamson is referencing simply don't jive with Scream? Could it be that they didn't go the whole way and that this fourth installment wasn't even close to the Saw or Hostel style horrors the cast can't get over? It's obviously both of these things. And that they may have already played their best cards -- your Dad is why my Mom left -- you killed my son -- I'm your half brother. The motivation here simply doesn't work and doesn't warrant another run at the windmill.
Thank heavens "Vampire Diaries" is kicking some butt.
- Matthew J. McCue
Monday, April 11, 2011
Insidious: It's Not The House
As the title of this review deftly points out -- there may in fact be spoilers ahead. I'll be sure to point out where and when with all the appropriate web shenanigans -- but there's really no big reveals here.
Insidious, the new thriller from director James Wan, is one of the best horror movies to come down the pike in quite some time. I am, admittedly, a person who made a solemn promise -- to which I have remained true -- that I shall never see one of the Saw movies. Thus, it was tough to drag me to this little pic by the original's writer/director, (Wan) and the co-writer of Saw, its sequel, and Dead Silence (Leigh Whannell). But I am one of these audience members who had to admit to himself that the Paranormal Activity movies looked pretty good -- except for the fact that they cost 50 cents and thus I didn't see the point in going to some Blair Witch Redux where I was going to have to constantly operate under the ruse that the low production value was only the result of the fact that the story was TRUE! Oooooh! No. No "Oooooh."
I have no problem with there being weird crap in your house and your kids thinking they saw footprints and you and your spouse freaking out and it scaring the bejesus out of audiences the world over. These are all obviously good things. But I scare easily. So if I am going to head to a movie like that -- I need some extremely good looking people to play the leads. Insidious was just that. Rose Byrne and Patrick Wilson? I'm obviously in.
Amazingly, what Wan and Whannel did so astutely was to keep the scope of the film remarkably limited -- despite how trippy the actual "device" may seem when it's thoroughly explained -- I will not be the kind of spoiler, so you won't get that explanation here. But we're basically talking about two small houses, a cast of eight or nine -- excluding the weirdo ghosts -- and much more sound design than insane visual effects. This "contained" horror structure was the absolute perfect set-up to keep even this particularly out there horror conceit plausible. If it's all just in the house? Great. I buy that.
Rose Byrne and Patrick Wilson were perfectly cast as a believable couple with all the right tension between them. Some of their heart to heart conversations had some down and out clunkers -- but once you get to the later twists of the film you can see why this would be possible. They're exceptional actors who can pull off anything from Little Children and "Damages" to The Watchmen and Adam. Great work all around. If they were going to pick a horror film from the slate of projects at the studio level -- this was the one. They're parents -- the don't seem old. They both look great. They're both right and wrong about the encounter. The audience switches sympathies between them. And frankly, one doesn't trump the other in the looks department.
So what happens in this thriller?
There's no point in destroying the journey of this horror film -- because it's very well done. It takes its time, cranks it up when it needs to, lets itself move along slowly when the story calls for it.
So here's the SPOILER portion -- as the poster appropriately points out, the house isn't haunted, the kid is. The way that this portion -- and it is only a portion -- of the device plays out is excellently well done.
I cannot think of higher praise to give Insidious than to say that once I realized it was the kid who was the problem, I turned to my sister and said "So ditch the kid." She agreed whole-heartedly. The situation is that spooky and that terrifying. Putting that kid into some kind of a facility and focusing all energy on the other two non-haunted children seemed a perfectly moral alternative whose regret component could easily be off-set by the fact that you at least got a piece of demon bait off the premises.
The extent to which James Wan and Leigh Whannel created a believable yet unexplored form of supernatural terror is perhaps what makes it so very scary. Once folks realize it is the boy who is haunted -- not the house -- and start exploring the reasons why -- frankly, it's completely believable. The insanity of the final half-hour just plain works.
The only problem with this movie -- that seems to hamstring most horror films -- and I would say in the case of Insidious, it's definitely far more acceptable than Jeepers Creepers -- is showing the monster. It's the Jaws problem. At least with Jaws the audience knows it will ultimately see a shark. When it comes to "Who the hell is that outside the window?!" "Who's driving the van?!" "What the hell are we running from?!" It seems the only correct move in horror movies is to show the killer the entire time -- Freddy, Michael Myers, Jason. Even if it's going to end up being the type of killer that pulls off its mask -- a la Scream -- at least I know I'm dealing with a human in a black suit the entire time. With these more supernatural, multidimensional, "Can you see what I see?" movies -- nailing the beast is next to impossible. For Insidious this is barely an issue because so many other things are going on and the revelation of a specific creature is the tip of the iceberg when it comes to solving the character's problems. I have no solution except not to show the beast -- which clearly doesn't work either.
But this is a dynamo in the horror world and should be viewed by anyone who likes a bit of fright and will even let themselves get more scared than normal if the logic behind the madness is sound. Insidious is a smart thriller that sticks with you once you leave the multiplex -- because it just might be possible!
-Matthew J. McCue
Insidious, the new thriller from director James Wan, is one of the best horror movies to come down the pike in quite some time. I am, admittedly, a person who made a solemn promise -- to which I have remained true -- that I shall never see one of the Saw movies. Thus, it was tough to drag me to this little pic by the original's writer/director, (Wan) and the co-writer of Saw, its sequel, and Dead Silence (Leigh Whannell). But I am one of these audience members who had to admit to himself that the Paranormal Activity movies looked pretty good -- except for the fact that they cost 50 cents and thus I didn't see the point in going to some Blair Witch Redux where I was going to have to constantly operate under the ruse that the low production value was only the result of the fact that the story was TRUE! Oooooh! No. No "Oooooh."
I have no problem with there being weird crap in your house and your kids thinking they saw footprints and you and your spouse freaking out and it scaring the bejesus out of audiences the world over. These are all obviously good things. But I scare easily. So if I am going to head to a movie like that -- I need some extremely good looking people to play the leads. Insidious was just that. Rose Byrne and Patrick Wilson? I'm obviously in.
Amazingly, what Wan and Whannel did so astutely was to keep the scope of the film remarkably limited -- despite how trippy the actual "device" may seem when it's thoroughly explained -- I will not be the kind of spoiler, so you won't get that explanation here. But we're basically talking about two small houses, a cast of eight or nine -- excluding the weirdo ghosts -- and much more sound design than insane visual effects. This "contained" horror structure was the absolute perfect set-up to keep even this particularly out there horror conceit plausible. If it's all just in the house? Great. I buy that.
Rose Byrne and Patrick Wilson were perfectly cast as a believable couple with all the right tension between them. Some of their heart to heart conversations had some down and out clunkers -- but once you get to the later twists of the film you can see why this would be possible. They're exceptional actors who can pull off anything from Little Children and "Damages" to The Watchmen and Adam. Great work all around. If they were going to pick a horror film from the slate of projects at the studio level -- this was the one. They're parents -- the don't seem old. They both look great. They're both right and wrong about the encounter. The audience switches sympathies between them. And frankly, one doesn't trump the other in the looks department.
So what happens in this thriller?
There's no point in destroying the journey of this horror film -- because it's very well done. It takes its time, cranks it up when it needs to, lets itself move along slowly when the story calls for it.
So here's the SPOILER portion -- as the poster appropriately points out, the house isn't haunted, the kid is. The way that this portion -- and it is only a portion -- of the device plays out is excellently well done.
I cannot think of higher praise to give Insidious than to say that once I realized it was the kid who was the problem, I turned to my sister and said "So ditch the kid." She agreed whole-heartedly. The situation is that spooky and that terrifying. Putting that kid into some kind of a facility and focusing all energy on the other two non-haunted children seemed a perfectly moral alternative whose regret component could easily be off-set by the fact that you at least got a piece of demon bait off the premises.
The extent to which James Wan and Leigh Whannel created a believable yet unexplored form of supernatural terror is perhaps what makes it so very scary. Once folks realize it is the boy who is haunted -- not the house -- and start exploring the reasons why -- frankly, it's completely believable. The insanity of the final half-hour just plain works.
The only problem with this movie -- that seems to hamstring most horror films -- and I would say in the case of Insidious, it's definitely far more acceptable than Jeepers Creepers -- is showing the monster. It's the Jaws problem. At least with Jaws the audience knows it will ultimately see a shark. When it comes to "Who the hell is that outside the window?!" "Who's driving the van?!" "What the hell are we running from?!" It seems the only correct move in horror movies is to show the killer the entire time -- Freddy, Michael Myers, Jason. Even if it's going to end up being the type of killer that pulls off its mask -- a la Scream -- at least I know I'm dealing with a human in a black suit the entire time. With these more supernatural, multidimensional, "Can you see what I see?" movies -- nailing the beast is next to impossible. For Insidious this is barely an issue because so many other things are going on and the revelation of a specific creature is the tip of the iceberg when it comes to solving the character's problems. I have no solution except not to show the beast -- which clearly doesn't work either.
But this is a dynamo in the horror world and should be viewed by anyone who likes a bit of fright and will even let themselves get more scared than normal if the logic behind the madness is sound. Insidious is a smart thriller that sticks with you once you leave the multiplex -- because it just might be possible!
-Matthew J. McCue
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