I watch movies and then talk about them!

The Internets may be mostly good for porn, as the Avenue Q song tells us, but every once and a while it comes up with something so uniquely useful (google, mapquest, stuffonmycat) that it reminds me why I'm glad the geeks all got together and started earning billions of dollars with software.

Today, that application is runpee.com/ This site literally tells you when during a movie you should run to the bathroom, how long you have to go to the bathroom, and what will happen while you're in the bathroom for all sorts of movies. Although the number one solution to movie-theater-bladder-releaving is clearly "HOLD IT YOU WIMP!" occasionally even the most dedicated of us have to give in to the pressures of the full bladder.  And that's where this awesome little resource comes in.

A Perfect Getaway seemed sort of stupid to me when I first saw the trailer, but a couple of good reviews inspired me to go see it. Maybe I had too high expectations. Maybe you shouldn’t see horror films at 1:30 in the afternoon. But I was never really scared for any of the characters (the threat of death never seemed particularly imminent, even with the heavily tattooed Chris Hemway and the ominously PTSD’ed Timothy Olyphant glaring crazily at the camera) nor particularly invested in any of them. That might be a lie. I really liked Timothy Olyphant’s performance as the quasi-insane mountain man, ex-Marine Nick, and Kiele Sanchez as his girlfriend was pretty enigmatic and engaging.

 

To truly discuss my problems with A Perfect Getaway, I’ve got to throw up a huge SPOILER WARNING. In all the commercials, and most of the reviews, people can’t help but mention the huge, M. Night Shaymalan-esque “twist.” But at this point, and maybe between my Gender and Horror class and my natural Horror-loving nature, it didn’t really seem all that surprising.

 

The point of the movie is more or less to figure out who the killers are (we know they’re a man and woman pair, and we’ve met three different pairs), but the movie only really suggests two different options. By 1/3 of the way into the movie, the first possibility, Chris Hemway (And his incredibly, Kirk-daddy abs) and Marley Shelton are captured by the police, and it’s pretty damn obvious that they’ve been framed. Sure they have dread locks and weird facial hair, but they’re way too obvious. But to a large extent, that holds true for Olyphant and Sanchez. They’re weird, and outdoorsy, and slightly off balance, but it’s also way to easy that they just happen to be the killers and they just happen to be going on a trip with our main characters. By the time that Nick is bringing home dead deers (goats?) for his woman to lovingly gut, I was 100% positive they weren’t the killers.

 

So that leaves us with the big “twist.” Except… it didn’t feel twisty. They cast Steve Zahn, dude! Steve Zahn is a crazy chameleon of a character actor, and I didn’t for a second believe that they had cast him just to simper about how crazy their hiking partners were. On top of that, Milla Jojovich (the Resident Evil badass) seemed like one of the worst actresses of all time for the first half of the movie. I spent a lot of time thinking, “God I hope this is the twist, because she sucks.” And they waited way too long to start the killing, murdering part of the movie. So when Steve Zahn was suddenly all crazy eyed and surprisingly muscular in his tank top and started insisting on Olyphant’s accompanying him on their kayaking adventures, I knew exactly where this was going.  Plus, and this isn’t to say “wow I’m so smart” but I found it really conspicuous that in the beginning wedding video we never saw the happy couple.

 

Either way. Although I can’t really fault a movie that’s as obsessed with half naked dudes as an episode of True Blood, and it’s beautifully shot and (with the exception of the showboating Jojovich) well acted, overall, it wasn’t the end of summer gem I was looking for.  I went in expecting The Descent, I got instead a hiking The Talented Mr. Ripley.

 

Funny People is a rambling, sentimental mess of a movie, a two and a half hour director indulgence that vacillates between gross out humor (I swear to god, this movie couldn’t be more obsessed with dick jokes if it was called Boogie Nights or Hung) and a syrupy family drama devoid of clearly sympathetic characters to root for. And yet…

 

I love Judd Apatow, unapologetically, but not blindly: I can admit the flaws and shortcomings of Superbad, Pineapple Express, or Walk Hard (40 Year Old Virgin, however, is damn near perfect to me). But his worldview speaks to me. I like the way he takes witty (okay, fine, funny) people and pushes them to grow. Lots of people see Apatow’s films as a glorification of the man/boy stereotype. I see it as a critique of it, colored by nostalgia and love.  So I guess it shouldn’t be surprising that I was willing to go along on this wandering journey devoid of the normal ebb and flow of cinema.

 

The movie follows George Saunders, played by Adam Sandler, a thinly veiled fictionalization of comedians from Sandler’s generation who sold out nose to the grindstone hilarity for big paychecks in crappy films with CGI baby bodies.  Sandler is brilliant in this role. It’s not showy or particularly likeable, but casting doesn’t get any better than having Adam “The Waterboy” Sandler play a once-loved comedian who slowly drifted into crappy films and lost all his cred. Admittedly, offscreen Sandler seems like less of a douche than Saunders, and he’s happily married as opposed to dying alone, but the comparison still serves to heighten the drama. And the comedy.

 

Because despite the fact that its plot follows Saunders getting cancer, beating cancer, reuniting with the girl of his dreams (who maybe should have stayed in his dreams), dealing with divorce, and infidelity, and heartbreak, and true debilitating loneliness, it’s often really funny, the type of ridiculous, improvised wit that characterized everything else that Apatow has put out.

 

The other story that we’re looking at in Funny People is that of Ira Wright (there’s a joke at one point about this name “hiding Judaism,” but honestly, even without the last name Weiner, that name drips Jew, so this particular joke was just weak), a would-be comedian currently working as a sandwich maker because, as coworkers and friends alike put it, he’s “not very funny. [he] looks funny, but he’s not very funny.” Ira’s a nice guy, as optimistic and excited about life as Saunders is jaded and misanthropic. But we’re always aware, it’s hss struggles that kepe him noble., The hidden danger of the film is that Ira, with all his head out the window wide-eyed enthusiasm, could just as easily find some success and becokkme  George.

 

Rogen is also great in this. I personally think Rogen’s at his best when he’s playing nice guys finishing last (e.g. Freaks and Geeks, Undeclared). And once again, the meta-aspects of the film help toplay into its themes. Rogen, as we all well know, was taken under the wing of a more successful funny person (in this case, Apatow, but still). Ira’s journey is secondary to George’s (although, for me, a lot more compelling, since Saunders is a huge dick whose mean to everyone and Ira’s a wide-eyed optimist who likes geeky girls with glasses), but it ultimately grounds all the ridiculous, rich person hijinks. He’s our entrance into Saunders particularly odd world.

 

About an hour and twenty minutes into the film, around the time that (not a spoiler if you’ve seen the trailer) Saunders finds out he’s NOT dying, you realize this movie doesn’t really hit the normal notes. It’s jarring at times, and makes a fairly conventional story feel tense. The fact that Funny People isn’t going clearly and concisely from Point A to Point B (hitting the important montage moments towards enlightenment along the way) makes it feel limitless. Although the ending, after watching it, felt obvious, while I was watching I was legitimately nervous for where the characters were going, and this comes a lot from Apatow’s ability to continually play with and challenge the conventions o the genre in which he works .

 

I’ve noted this before, on movies like Forgetting Sarah Marshall and Walk Hard, that Apatow has never seemed content to just put out cookie cutter movies bringing us obviously from point A to point B* without any real though along the way. And although it occasionally leads to less easily accessible movies, it’s also what makes them great. Some critics seem to see Funny People’s failings, both artistic and business (what with only making $23 million its first weekend), as a sign that the Apatow reign is over. Maybe. But I think it’s a sign that Apatow was worth rooting for in the first place.

 

*another fun meta-parallel with the movie: Saunders doesn’t care at all about his, god I feel nauseaus just writing this, “art.” He’s completely unfulfilled by movies about mermen and baby heads. Apatow, on the other hand, took a huge critical and artistic risk making a self-centered opus to the process of being a funny, successful dude.

 

** A third fun meta-parallel is the tiny little cameo performance of Bo Burnham as one of the actors on the craptastic sitcom Yo Teach. Burnham is a YouTube star who famously told a bunch of magazines that his life time goal was to be in an Apatow movie, right here being taken under the Apatow umbrella. It’s a big circle of references.

 

A SIDENOTE ON THE MOVIE SLUMP: As my verbosity can attest, I think I’m effectively out of my slump, and I think it’s Funny People that broke it. And soon I’ll be posting my (much shorter) review of A Perfect Getaway, but despite not unequivocally loving either of the two movies I’ve seen, I’ve been feeling a lot more engaged and taken into another world. Which is REALLY exciting.

 

You may have noticed that I haven’t yet posted a review of the latest Harry Potter movie. It’s not because, in a fit of Institute induced lunacy, I’ve failed to see The Half Blood Prince. In fact, I’ve already seen it, Twice. It’s not even because the movie itself disappointed me, or angered me, in a way as to make writing a review of it difficult. Nor did I find it particularly unremarkable (I could write chapters on the screwball romantic comedy antics of Hermione and Ron, and further chapters on how stupid that scene in the burrow is). I wish it were any of these reasons. The truth is far more sinister.

Typically, when I go into the movie theater, it’s like being transported into a magical happy place. Even when I hate the movie, a la 27 Dresses, I’m still there. I may be thinking about the mysoginistic implications of there, but I’m still there. Of course, occasionally a movie simply fails to move me, but these are the exceptions, rather than the rule. It’s why I love the movies so much: good, bad or indifferent, I’m somewhere else.

Unless, of course, I’m in a movie slump. Movie slumps are not defined by choosing bad movies; in fact, it’s sort of in the nature of the slump that it has nothing to do with the quality of the films being watched. It’s quite possible that they’re great, engaging and wonderful, but for whatever reason my brain is incapable of making the cognitive leap to giving itself over to the silver screen. I am inclined to lay the blame in my own head, rather than on the movies at hand, especially considering the anecdotal evidence that it doesn’t take a good movie to get me out of said slump.

Consider: It’s 2006. I’ve just finished my freshman year of college. I wrote an in depth review of the Spike Lee movie Inside Man that left me exhausted. It was the first time that I had thought that hard about why I loved the films I loved. And something apparently snapped. From the time I saw Inside Man, March 24th, until I saw, of all films, The Break Up on June 2, 2006, I didn’t really enjoy a single film. I saw a couple that, retrospectively, I think were probably pretty good (including Brick) and a few that were even objectively awful (X-Men III, anyone?), but the movie theater, for whatever reason, failed to move me. And it wasn’t quality; otherwise how can you explain a good-to-middling film like The Break Up snapping me out of it? It was just a strange, sad brain malfunction.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, and you probably guessed it, I am in a movie slump once more. If I’m honest with myself, I haven’t really liked a movie since… Up. Which I loved unequivacobly, but still. Public Enemies bored me, Away We Go didn’t even move me to review it, and Bruno, despite making me giggle, failed to incite any more of a fervor. But the real kicker is Harry Potter. Objectively (and I promise to properly review it once the fog in my head has passed), Hp and the HBP was good, maybe even great with the requisite few caveats. I loved parts of it from a removed and objective stand point. But I didn’t feel it, the rising soar and fall of great cinema, and I am inclined to believe that this problem is in me. I haven’t really felt “in” a movie for weeks now.

For a normal person, this is just a weird phenomena; for me, it’s terrifying. And it leaves me wanting to see whatever movie possible to try and find this year’s The Break Up. Which may all be a long winded excuse if I see The Awful Truth, despite it’s ridiculously mysoginistic trailers. 

As I try to concentrate on work before I go to an ill-advised midnight screening of Harry Potter, I can't help but think about how awesomely the main trio has grown up. In a Potter-frenzy, and to indulge my desires without watching actual footage from the movie*, I've watched about ten interviews each with Emma Watson, Daniel Radcliffe, and Rupert Grint. And all three of them have grown up articulate, smart, interesting and gracious. Maybe it's the British thing. But they're all so damn charismatic and well spoken that it's overwhelming.

Check it out. It almost makes up for the fact that they're overwhelmingly successful at a ridiculously young age.

I've always sort of loved Daniel Radcliffe and all his naked-theater, indie-music-loving, Extras-guest-starring awesomeness (in fact, I crush so much more on Radcliffe in real-life that I briefly thought I was switching from Team Ron to Team Harry, but that was just the folly of youth), and Rupert Grint is awkward and endearing at all times and has consistently proven, well, Ron-like in real life, but the true gem hidden in the trio is Emma Watson. I should hate Watson. I think in my head Hermione was always me, so this is the girl replacing myself in my favorite story. But she's been a joy to watch grow up. She seems really well adjusted to fame and life, and I've got to respect a girl who wants to go to a competive college to study Liberal Arts even though she's got buckets full of money. Plus, I love that she's Hermione-esque as far as grades go, and that she is just as well spoken and confident on talk shows as Daniel Radcliffe (check her out on Letterman to see her more than stand up to old Dave).

Anyway, it makes it even easier to love the movie adaptations of my favorite books when most of the people involved seem so gracious, grateful and awesome.

*After the first real trailer is released, I try to avoid HP footage. After all, the story is pretty familiar to me, so the only surprises possible are the way that the director and co flesh it out. So while I'll watch interviews with actors, directors, etc., I avoid actual movie footage like the plague.

I've loved Sascha Baron Cohen's hilarious satirical creations since Seth Rogen was writing for Da Ali G Show. I saw Borat two months before the rest of the world, and spent the intervening two months annoying everyone with my "It's niiiiiiiiice" and "I liiiiiike you" impressions. I thought Borat was occasionally line-crossing, consistently hilarious guerilla satire at its finest.

So I guess you could say I went into Bruno with high expectations, despite the fact that the character of Bruno himself was always my least favorite on Da Ali G Show. And the movie itself was... well... naked.

The problem with Bruno is that it relies too much on shocking nudity and outlandish gay stereotypes and too little on the type of insightful, shocking people into revealing their true colors awesomeness that made Borat so awesome. Let's compare two scenes. In Borat, a bunch of beers and a foreign dude got a cadre of frat boys from University of South Carolina to open up about their inner slave-wanting, women-hating mysoginist racism. In Bruno, it takes Bruno literally stripping down to nothing and trying to climb into a man's tent to get a rise, and even then it's not a hate-filled diatribe against gay folks so much as it is the dawning realization that the mountain man has been duped and that this whole thing is a show.

Because Bruno goes to such ridiculous extremes, you end up identfiying far more with his victims. At a certain point, not even the most tolerant person wants to watch two random dudes have sex in the middle of a wrestling ring. It doesn't excuse the awful things the fans say, nor the homophobic aura of the entire event. Those things are still awful, and definitely a great example of the kind of satire this movie should have more of, but by the point that the two men are undressing each other in public, I gotta say... I'd probably walk out too. And that's not Cohen unveiling my hidden prejudices as an audience member (although I do think occasionally this was his purpose). I was equally grossed out by the swingers scene, which was 100% straight.

There's a valid satirical point made occasionally in Bruno, and it has some biting scenes. The stage moms willing to let their children do anything for a pathetic little slice of fame is a particularly good scene, and you can almost see Cohen's wheels turning as he keeps upping the ante trying to get the mom's to say no. The overall point about celebrity and its sick obsession with fame is pretty well made, if not exactly as deeply revealing as the hidden mysoginy and anti-semitism of Borat.

The scenes of Bruno in the Middle East are pretty damn funny, if too short. At the same time, it's pretty random, like a lot of the plot. It's actually nearly the exact same plot as Borat: a foreign dude comes to the US, travels around with a male companion, eventually gets in a huge fight with said male friend (over sex, and while naked), gets sad and goes through a dark period, then reunites with the friend in order to end the movie. In Borat, this felt (slightly) more organic. In Bruno, it's just a slight excuse to justify the goofy scenes.

The homophobia stuff is occasionally awesome. A scene with a "conversion" Preacher, who Bruno enlists to try and help him turn straight like "John Travolta and Tom Cruise," is exactly what this movie could have used more of: a cool expose on the structures of homophobia. Plus, it's funny.

A lot of this movie is laugh out loud funny, if you can stomach the stuff in between. In fact, it's so funny at points that I honestly wondered if maybe I was just missing the satirical point. But I don't think I was. I think that the movie suffered from Borat's fame (making it harder for Cohen to find interview subjects who didn't know about Da Ali G Show) and a sense of self-satisfaction that kept it from elevating past the point of being just a funny movie. And it's a really hard to recommend movie, given that so much of it made me want to claw my eyes out*.

I'm embedding a video from EW of their two movie critics fighting about Bruno, because I think it's a nice synopsis of the battle going on in my head regarding the movie:

Dear Mr. Bale (Christian),

Please start picking movies where your characters are actually characters, not thin cardboard cutouts that the director and writers are counting on you to flesh out. Let's be honest, you haven't played a real character since I'm Not There, and even then you were just 1/8 of a personality. Much though I love The Dark Knight, Bruce Wayne is a cipher in a sea of chaos, and as for John Connor or Melvin Purvis... well, let's just say Patrick Bateman they're not. Please! You're one of the best actors of your generation, and you've proved it over and over again. Play something fun every once and a while (I know you can do comedy, American Psycho was hilarious. As was Newsies... or Reign of Fire.). Look right there in your picture, right at the top of this post. You know how to smile (sort of)! Use it! It's called range, and you sure as hell have it, so stop doing serious, boring movies that require a lot of scowling, and start acting again.

Please. I can only watch my DVDs of Swing Kids and Little Women so many times.

Sincerely,

Me.

After the disappointment that was the second Bale outting of the summer, I needed a little pick me up. Below see a brief introduction to my favorite Bale characters of all time (not necessarily correlated with my favorite Bale movies, since that would clearly be Batman. For all five slots. So I eliminated this as a possibility).

Christian Bale's Best (Non-Batman) Characters

1. Patrick Bateman (American Psycho)- This is the movie that started my Bale obsession. He's at turns hilarious, ridiculous, gorgeous, murderous and batshit crazy. And it's entirely Bale that sells what could have been the awful skeleton of a character.


2. Jim "Jaime" Graham (Empire of the Sun)- 12-year-old Christian Bale starred in one of the more forgotten entries into the Steven Spielberg cannon and immediately won all sorts of praise. The movie itself is surprisingly moving and well crafted, and transforms Spielberg's well-known parent issues into a thoughtful, beautiful treatise on war and childhood. But it's Bale's wide-eyed yet precoscious performance as Jaime that really gives Empire it's spark, whether he's running away from soldiers or running a refugee camp.


3. Dieter (Rescue Dawn)- This is the movie I always want to point to when people claim that Christian Bale can't act. Not the showy, naked theatrics of American Psycho or the quiet, starved passion of The Machinist. It's the subtle way Bale crafts Dieter, both physically (he never looks exactly the same in any role, and so Dieter's beginning slightly doughy frat boy physique serves as the perfect physical manifestation of the waning away of his arrogance throughout the movie) and mentally (the entire movie rests on our investment in Dieter's survival), that makes me positive that one look at this movie and no one will ever mockingly use the "I'm Batman" line against him again. Or at least they'll feel bad about it after they do it.



4. Dan Evans (3:10 to Yuma)- as a beleaguered dad just trying to win his kid's respect, Bale got to show he was more than just Bruce Wayne and he more than stood up to heavy weight Crowe. But it's more than that. Like nearly every performance he's ever given, Bale disappears into Evans until you're not think about Batman or Bateman, and it seems like Bale's forever been a Western father striving to do what's right.


5. Jack Sawyer (Newsies)- This one's probably a bit dubious, and much more colored by my intense love for this goofy Disney early-90s failure than it is by the actual performance, but damn if Bale's singing and dancing extravaganza (with future HSM director Kenny Ortega, showing off his prowess at crafting kick ass dance numbers with super cute teenage boys) doesn't continue to make me crack up and feel inspired. It's probably the goofiest Bale's been throughout his whole career, and there's a joy in his eyes as he shouts lines like "Soak 'em for Crutchy!"

HONORABLE MENTION: Laurie in Little Women. Because I'm a girl who loved to read, and who once threw her book against the wall when Jo turned down her adorable next door neighbor's declaration of love, and who took a lot of years to warm up to Amy.

LESS HONORABLE (of me for) MENTION(ing it): Arthur Stuart (Velvet Goldmine). He's pretty good in this, but let's be honest, the reason it's making the list is because he makes out with Ewan McGregor. A lot.

It's nigh impossible (at least it was for me) to watch the Johnny Depp/Christian Bale vehicle, Public Enemies, without think of other movies of its type. Movies where two heavy weight actors go mano-a-mano on opposite sides of the law. Movies like 3:10 to Yuma or American Gangster*.

3:10 to Yuma was one of my favorite movies the year it was released because it sketched an intriguing portrayal of both Bale and Crowe's characters and provided them with sufficient motivation and characteristics to be intriguing in their own right. That, for me, was the number one thing Public Enemies was missing. Although it does make an attempt to craft a character out of Depp's John Dillinger (a problematic character, which we'll go into later, but a character none the less), it's true moral center and emotional arch is in Bale's Melvin Purvis. We are meant to feel Purvis's descent into the gritty modern world moral compromises as represented by Billy Crudup's J. Edgar Hoover, but we know so very little about Purvis that it never feels like anything more than surface. There's a lot to interpret in the way Bale narrows his eyes and crafts the character, and it's almost enough to save the movie, but ultimately it's so weakly sketched a character by the script that although he's given a nearly equal screen presence to Dillinger, we never feel like we know him and therefore never identify with his moral quandry.

Dillinger himself feels oddly designed. The movie, for me, felt like it picked up in the middle of his story. We are missing that crucial introductory chapter to give us a feel for what Dillinger the criminal is really like. I would have liked a beginning where we understand the status quo of Dillinger's theivery. We see him swoop in, all suave one liners and public compassion, before we begin to see the way that the world around him changes his MO. We're told that he's a charismatic, caring criminal who the people love, but we're rarely showed this. Similar to the problem with the Bale character, this means that as Dillinger falls into desperation and violence, it doesn't feel as jarring as it should. Dillinger is meant to be a charming outlaw a la Butch and Sundance, or Crowe's Ben Wade or Washington's Frank Lucas, a man who may be a criminal, maybe even a murderer, but who at the end of the day subscribes to his own moral code and is therefore preferable to the real bad guys. He's also meant to be intriguing and sexy, and that's where this movie failed the most for me. That's saying something. Johnny Depp is intriguing and sexy personified, but Dillinger never felt like the charming outlaw the movie wanted him to be. The epic romance between Dillinger and Oscar Winner Marion Cotilliard's Billie felt rushed. Because she provides the lynch pin in Dillinger's on doing (and the motivation for nearly all of his actions), this intense weakness at the core of an already weak film feels like a sucking abyss. Don't get me wrong. Cotillard does a valiant job with a weak character (so do Depp and Bale, for that matter), but it's not nearly enough to save the movie.

The script itself meanders through two and a half hour with surprisingly weak tone and rhythm. The final conclusion is foregone from the beginning, yet the movie lacks a tragic eloquence bemoaning an era pass. Even the final post script, telling us the fates of Bale's Purvis and Cotillard's Billie, feels perfunctory, and doesn't actually add much to the arch of the story. Ultimately, the movie feels empty, pointless, and like a gigantic waste of talent.

On a film geek note, the movie was shot on HD rather than on Film and it felt... off. When a movie's not shot on film, you can feel it in the rhythms. At times it felt like I was watching a really high budget TV movie. I get the thematic reasons why Michael Mann (the director, who I actually normally like a lot, and who also made the excellent Collateral) decided to film this way, but the combination of the high-concept lighting and costume design with the offbeat rhythms of HD shooting just made the whole thing feel even more wrong to me.

*Yes I'm aware that all three of these movies can be linked in otherways as well, namely that Crowe was in both 3:10 and American Ganster, and Bale was in 3:10 and Public Enemies. Weird.
.

The common theme in reviews for the Sandra Bullock/Ryan Reynolds romantic comedy The Proposal is that the movie is absolutely nothing new, full of old cliches and goofy happenstance, but it survives on a fairly witty script and two immensly likeable leads. You know why? There's no better way to sum up the movie than that.

Sandra Bullock plays a NYC book editor whose such a bitch that her employees quiver in fear at the mere idea of her approach. Ryan Reynolds is her browbeaten assistant whose spent the past three years Devil Wears Prada'ing it for her in the hopes that he will one day make it to editor. When Bullock's biggest flaw is brought to light (news flash: SHE'S CANADIAN!), and she faces deportation, she quickly decides that the only solution is to marry Reynolds followed by a quicke divorce. The two travel up to Reynold's family home in Alaska, where it turns out he's super rich, Alaskan royalty, and that Bullock may not be quite the ice queen she always seemed at the office. And also that she looks hot naked. That's an important plot point as well.

It's well, well, well worn territory, and the whole "career woman needs to loosen up" storyline has been over played*, but damned if you're not willing to watch it anyway. Although I could have used a few more scenes explaining how Reynold's Andrew fell in love with Bullock's Margaret (there was definitely the beginning of it, but not quite enough to justify the dramatic run to the airport), the chemistry between two really funny, talented stars was enough to pull it through. Having leads that are both just funny no matter how lame the lines helps. Having Betty White doing a tribal dance to appease the spirits? Icing on the wacky romantic comedy cake.

On top of that, a few well chosen lines helped to offset the cheesy expectedness of everything else (my personal favorite, Andrew, "Margaret? Will you marry me? Because I'd like to date you."), and the final five minutes, filled with fake INS interviews, was probably the funniest part of the whole film.

I read a review that said that at this point, romantic comedies are like horror films. The directors have an audience so built in to the picture (especially one that stars Sandra Bullock) that they don't bother to refine the script past the stage that first got it approved. You can see that here. The Proposal was probably always going to be a hit. And it's winning enough to make you not begrudge it that fact.

*Many feminists get super offended at this storyline. I don't. The point isn't that a woman can't be a top executive, or that she needs a man to take her down a peg. The point is that Sandra Bullock's character is a bitch who uses bitchiness to protect herself, and that she wont be fully happy until she stops getting all defense mechanism-y. Plus, this movie never suggests that she should quit her job, or stop being such a hardass while she's doing it, just that she should allow some room outside of it for a personal life. And that if your assistant has abs like Ryan Reynolds, you should hit that. And really, what's more feminist than that?

I watch movies more than once. Often, I watch movies five or six or seven or twenty times, in fact, with different people, in the hopes of sharing that joy I feel watching a great story unfold with other people. A lot of these movies, these go to films, are great pieces of art, universally recognized and acknowledge by the cinematic establishment. Films like Casablanca, or The Philadelphia Story, or Lord of the Rings, or The Departed, or even Wall*E. And not to diminish these movies, because they're all stingularly great accomplishments well-worthy of their praise, but there's another genre of oft-repeated by me films that I'm here to discuss. Those movies. The movies that for whatever reason I not only want to watch a billion times, but I want other people to watch and enjoy and discover. And I'm not talking guilty pleasures (I've seen John Tucker Must Die at least five times, and although I refuse to admit being embarassed about that fact, I'm also not certain that every person on the planet should aim for that as a goal) nor am I necessarily talking hidden indie gems (mainly, this is because I don't really watch nearly enough indie films to make myself feel like anything approaching an authority on them). More often than not, these movies are just strange, normal movies that speak to me on some deep gutteral level and that, even as I age, still feel infinitely personal and awesome every time I watch them. Does everyone have these movies? They're mostly not masterpieces, I could point out flaws in every one of them, nor do I entirely understand how they've managed to rise to the upper echelons of my cinematic appreciation, and yet... each of the following three films has defined a certain epoch in my life in a way that movies that are technically more impressive, or deep, or moving don't neccesarily do.

Although by no means an exhaustive list, here's a sampling of what I mean:

FIFTH GRADE
10 Things I Hate About You --> It began a life-long Shakespeare obsession, a Heath Ledger crush so huge it threatened to take on pathetic proportions, and provided me with a witty comeback for nearly every opportunity. I think a lot of my current want-to-be badass quasi-feminism can be traced back to her combat booted, Letters-to-Cleo-listening, paintball-playing shrewy self, and I'm infinitely grateful for it. I'm just pumped I never picked up my "cool" cues from a more typical female protagonist (don't get me wrong, Laney Boggs was cool in the beginning when she was spattered with paint and wore glasses, but who needs a boy, even one as cute as Freddie Prinze Jr. to turn you into something you're not?). And it's just never diminished either in my appreciation for it nor in its ability to consistently make me laugh. From my "artsy" magazine decorated bed room, to the copy of The Bell Jar that I read in the seventh grade, straight through to my desire to grow out my hair and find the perfect one liner, Katarina Stratford defined cool for me, and Patrick Verona (and Heath Ledger) became the uber-hottie ideal.

EIGHTH GRADE
Igby Goes Down--> I feel like this movie is probably not as deep as it felt to me the first time I saw it in the 8th grade. It's basically a modern day Catcher In The Rye, with Kieran Culkin's rich kid Igby playing the jaded-bohemian whiner in a beautiful NYC loft while mingling with upper-class drugs, sex, and Amanda Peet's nudity. It's about discovering who you are when everyone around you has failed you in some fundamental way, and used you to try and gratify their own agenda, but it's also about getting over your own bullshit and moving towards some sort of happiness despite how much more artisitic it is to stay depressed. Like Ten Things, this movie seemed infinitely quotable, even if I didn't quite understand the irony of quoting the characters who are later revealed to be so full of their own bravado they can't see in front of their own faces. Growing up, I keep feeling like I should outgrow this movie, but there's something strangely comforting in watching Igby attempting euthanasia by suffocation on his own mother (Susan Sarandon) with a plastic bag, while cursing the tennis that kept her in good health for so long. Also, it should be noted, that's it's not that I ever, even a little bit, saw myself in the character of Igby, or my world reflected in the emptiness of NYC boarding schools, but that something about his poor-little-rich-kid angst spoke to the rebel-without-a-cause years of 13, 14, and 15.

RIGHT NOW
Definitely, Maybe--> I suspect this list may be somewhat romantic comedy heavy. I reviewed this for the site, so I'll try to keep it short, but the film has only grown in my appreciation since that initial viewing. Not only is it practically unique within the genre in its realistic, smart, and funny protrayals of its female protagonists, but it's also a moving tale of growing up. Will Hayes makes the journey from idealistic post-collegiate Clinton intern to divorced thirty-something Ad Exec dad, and the movie is at least as interested in what tumbles people make on their journey to adulthood as it is in Will's love story. Each woman has her own growing up tale to be told that is at least as interesting as Will's as well as each being incredibly well-rounded, likeable love interests. And the movies genius juxtaposition of the downfall of Clinton with Will's own downfall could be the best (yet) use of the 90s as emotional metaphor.

If you went to college, or have ever watched a college movie, or have watched MTV, or have watched television's Greek or really have been anywhere near young people aged 18-24, you're familiar with the type. Call them what you will (frat boys is probably a nice way of saying it, but I prefer "douche bag" or "tools"), but these young (mostly) male types love to talk about how "fucking wasted" they were the night before. You see, these guys derive their cool quotient entirely from beer chugging, shot doing, and memory lossage. The blackout, in this scenario, is not an unfortunate side effect to excessive drinking, but the desired effect, as it allows the young men in question to say things like, "Dude, I was so wasted last night, I don't even know what happened, but I woke up with a naked chick, a broken ankle, and a bobcat at the foot of my bed!" and their bro buddies to respond with an enthusiastic high five and an "AWESOME MAN!"

The Hangover, as you can imagine, is a movie that feels a lot like listening to said douche bags on a Sunday morning. It revels and exhalts in the magic of the forgotten night, filled with naked chicks, Mike Tyson, and roofies. It's characters, over grown, way-too-old for this frat boys, are kind of all dicks -from semi-retarded brother Alan (Zack Galafinakis), to wife-and-child-abandoning Phil (Bradley Cooper), even to "nice" guy Stu (Ed Helms) and betrothed Doug (Justin Bartha), although the last two are less obviously douchey than the first. They're money wasting, friendship-using, responsibility-escaping children. Phil, in his first scene, extorts money from his classroom of elementary schoolers. Stu allows himself to be berated by his overbearing, and painfully boring girlfriend. And Alan... well, we see much more of Alan than anyone ever needed to see of him.

But (and you knew a but was coming) it's sort of hilarious. Todd Phillips, the director of The Hangover, doesn't really ask you to like his main characters or to agree wtih their life desicions. He's self-described as the "Anti-Judd Apatow" and that's true in so many ways. Where Apatow makes man/boys sympathetic and growing up, Phillips sort of just makes them barely functioning enough to get through life and then proceeds to fuck with them for two hours.

And The Hangover is really, really freaking funny, in a (and pardon the non-feminist usage of this term) boy kind of way. It's a lot like Old School, which Phillips also directed, in that it's just a lot of ridiculous situations and sex jokes with minimal "emotional growth" that seems more perfunctory than anything else. It radiates an approaching middle age cool of rap music and sunglasses, while never taking itself even the least bit seriously. It conjures up images of Swingers, without ever approaching that films pathos, but creates its own mystical Vegas that seems every bit as hilarious.

I, of course, had issues with the film. Heather Graham, in particular, seemed ill served by her role as a stripper/escort (because what better place than a strip club to meet the clients), and the semi-kind-of-maybe love story between her and Ed Helms seemed stupid. Every woman in the movie, for that matter (with the exception of Doug's fiance), is either a raging bitch or a half-naked hooker, but... Oh well. The Hangover doesn't pretend to be anything more or less than a boy's adventure film, the type of movie that likes to pretend that slipping your friends roofies will lead to epic tales and adventures (rather than the far more likely waking up in your own vomit), and it's really fun to go along on those adventures.

I liked Drag Me To Hell a lot. Let's just get that out there. I'm a fan of goofy horror/comedy, and Drag Me To Hell was one of the best I've ever seen. It cleverly mixed in the comedy without ever losing the ability to make me scared, too. I was at turns scared, giggly, and excited.

But something was gnawing at me, much the way that shadows continue to dot our protagonist's landscape ever since that awful gypsy curse.

First, a brief synopsis: Drag Me To Hell follows Christine Brown, who works at a bank. She's a nice girl. Nice boyfriend. Nice job. Until one day, in her drive for a promotion, she refuses a loan to a poor gypsy woman. Who promptly goes batshit insane, turns into a napkin and starts trying to kill her. Just when it seems doom is nigh, the old woman plucks a button off Christine's coat and promptly curses her. For the rest of the movie, Christine races against the looming 3-day soul-reaping deadline, and attempts to ward off damnation by, at turns, killing her beloved cat (despite the fact that she's a vegetarian), paying a scary Mexican lady $8,000, and grave robbing (or maybe, I suppose, the opposite of grave robbing... grave gifting?).

And although I found most of suitably hilarious and creepy, I didn't love it like I should have. You see, I grew up watching Raimi's horror/comedy classics. Sure the teenage years were full of Evil Deads 1,2 and Army of Darkness, and it seemed there were times we couldn't go ten minutes without quoting Bruce Campbell, but even before that I was enraptured by the Raimi produced awesomeness of Xena and Hercules, and in paticular loved the goofy, horror-style episodes that relied on camera-monsters and goofy dancing. And so much of Drag Me To Hell was playing right into the Raimi sweet spot, and actually showed a lot of growth as a film maker.

But then there was Christine Brown (and her equally bland boyfriend, Justin Long, who should be the subject of a whole nother post). She was just so... nothing. "Sweet" and "vegetarian" are not characterizations, and a past of pig-farming fattitude is not the same thing as motivation. And she was mostly a helpless damsel in distress, having to rely on the kindness and expertise of others (usually males, although not exclusively). Even her money came primarily from the boyfriend.

THIS IS THE MAN WHO GAVE US ASH, purveyor of "boomsticks" and sardonic, carnage-soaked "groovy"s. He made a hero so compelling it launched a B-list acting institution in the form of Bruce Campbell. And it's what made Evil Dead so enduring; Ash was awesome to root for. In the end of Drag Me To Hell, although I really enjoyed watching the journey to get there, I didn't really care if Allison Lohman's Christine lived or died. Where was the creative use of a chainsaw? The witty retorts? Where's the ass kicking?

To be fair, there's a few moments of badassery in there (in particular, covered in mud and fighting a corpse), but they don't feel organic to the character. I don't know how much of this to lay at the feet of Lohman and how much at Raimi, but at the end of the movie, it is this lack of a strong, central presence that kept the film from being a slam dunk for me. I just kept thinking how much more interesting and engaging the whole movie would have been with a lead like Kristen Bell, who would bring intelligence and pluck where Christine Brown had only "niceness" and Ben&Jerry's.

Pixar Animation studio produces masterpieces. They don't make cartoons, or kids movies, or films that are meant to be remembered fondly from adulthood. They make these beautiful two hour testaments to the power of movie making and imagination and hope that stand no matter how many candles you're blowing out on your birthday cake, and that age gently and gracefully with you. It returns me to a state of hyper-childhood, where I jump at every scary noise, gasp at every death-defying stunt, and giggle at every joke, much to the amusement of the people with whom I see the movies. It's amazing that a studio exists in the modern climate where a rat, a practically-silent robot, and a grumpy old man who looks like Spencer Tracy can all be movie stars, but there you go. Pixar is what all people who want to make movies should dream about: one hundred percent committed to telling beautiful, unique, moving and funny tales that people of all ages, maturity levels, and attention deficits can enjoy.

Is that enough hyperbole for you? Well, sorry kids, it's PIXAR time. There newest cinematic feast, Up, follows grumpy old man Carl Fredericksen as he journeys to South America in his house (levitated by aide of about 1,000 balloons). Along the way, he picks up Russell, a wilderness exploring youth looking to earn his Helping the Elderly merit badge, Kevin, a female beautiful bird-type creature, and Dug, a talking dog. You can tell nearly all of this from the trailer. Sure it looks whimsical, and cute, and Pixar animation is nothing if not top notch, but if I was being honest with myself, before seeing this movie the only reason that Up made it to my must-see-movies list is because it was Pixar. It looked decent, but where was my googly-eyed robot?

And then I saw Up. And it was at once beautiful, mature, funny, goofy, smart and (dare I say it?) whimsical. I cried not once, not twice, not thrice, but four damn times. The first twenty minutes of the film were some of the most moving and sad testaments to love and marriage ever before captured on film. I literally turned to the person sitting next to me to make sure that I was really seeing what was going on on screen. Cinematical.com did a brilliant dissection of this opening montage that just speaks so concisely to what makes this movie something so damn extraordinary.

I'm not sure how Pixar does it. The movies are just made with so much goodwill, and talent, and joy. Even when I'm crying, it's cathartic. They don't talk down to their audience (be they child or adult); there's no poop jokes or unneccesary pop culture references (and don't get me wrong, there's a place for these too). They're at once timeless and infinite and painfully relevant. Up is all about hope and adventure, yet it celebrates the joys of ordinary life as much as it does momentary adventure. It's characters are grumpy and sad and damaged individuals, yet the pull of the human spirit is what drives them towards their happy ending. Not magic; not saviours; just love, and not even romantic love, but rather world-encompassing, beautiful, compassionate love.

I wish I could talk about it in less pretentious, to really impress how funny and exciting Up can be at times, too, but honestly, it just left me feeling so damn elated that I don't have any less high-fallutin' words to say about it.

Oh and if Dug isn't the cutest thing to ever grace the silver screen, I'll eat my damn hat. Even though I don't wear a hat.

*On a side note, I don't know that it's one hundred percent necessary to see Up in 3D. I did, and it looked pretty cool, but I think the movie would work just as well without it, so if you're looking to save five bucks, there's a good way to do it.

June is a kind of tough month for movies. Almost all of the movies I'm excited for are... well... read on...



Land of the Lost- Yes, it looks stupid. Yes, the tv show was the type of goofy loveablosity that doesn't really work these days. And yes, Will Ferrell always plays Will Ferrell. But... I don't know. I still find his Jew-froed man-boy shtick hilarious. And I love big screen, crazy, bug-strewn, kid adventures more than any 22 year old should. Dropping June 5th.

( Land of the Lost trailer )






Year One- Maybe you're sick of Michael Cera at this point, but I'm not. And lines like

Cera-as-statue: So... when do you get off?

Slave girl: I'm a slave so... never.

Seem like the kind of goofy anachronistic awesomeness that Mel Brooks perfected in The History of the World (Part 1). Starting June 19th.

( Year One Trailer )




The Proposal- Again... maybe you don't want to watch Sandra Bullock in another convoluted romantic comedy but... damned if I don't find even the most cliched lines in this trailer amusing, and I think that the chemistry between Ryan Reynolds and Bullock could carry me through anything. Plus, a golden girl!!!!!!!! June 19th.

( The Proposal Trailer )








Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen- what can I say? I love me some explosions and robots. June 26th.

( Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen )




So yes, there seems to be a lot of movies I'm going to go see, but not a lot of movies I'm not embarrassed to admit I WANT to go see.

*Away We Go- director Sam Mendes's follow up to Revolutionary Road doesn't look at all like the tense, thoughtful marriage drama. In fact, it kind of looks like an annoyingly cute Indie drama. But the trailer, full of stars Mya Rudolph (in a rare semi-serious role) and John Krasinski, is winning enough, and Mendes's name is enough to draw me into any film. This is definitely one of those movies that buzz is going to make or break for me. If it seems like it's getting good reviews, then I'm there. June 5th in Limited Release.

Here's the trailer for a really interesting upcoming sci-fi flick starring Bruce Willis. I haven't seen this trailer yet in theaters, but if the movies half as intriguing and smart as this trailer, it could be really good.

                                    
Thus far, four of the most highly anticipated movies of the summer have come out: Wolverine, Star Trek, Angels and Demons and Terminator:Salvation. And thus far, three of those movies have a rating of under 38% fresh on Rotten Tomatoes, and the only one that doesn't is the one based on a thought defunct franchise. Who would have thought?

Well, frankly, not me. I remember having damn high hopes for at least three out of those four movies (Angels and Demons was always a bit iffy for me), and despite the building negative press associated with a lot of them, I carried that into the theater. And was disappointed*.

So let's start with the biggest disappointment: WOLVERINE. Man, that trailer was badass, wasn't it? Hugh Jackman was doing his growly, veiny best, the action looked top notch and epic, and I was set to enjoy the crap out of a well made solo outing.

Too bad what I got was kind of... well... stupid.

First of all, I truly don't believe we needed an origin story for Wolverine. Part of what's always made him this awesome character was the fact that he was a man of mystery, and I always thought that the X-Men films were going to slowly unfold with bits and pieces of Wolverine's past that we, like Logan himself, could piece together like a jigsaw puzzle. Seeing it all spelled out for us was bad enough, but the actual story of what made Logan into Wolverine was kind of lame. Really? Someone killed his girlfriend/betrayed him? He had daddy issues? It's not that the story itself was that bad, it just didn't merit a whole movie. I would have greatly perferred a solo outing that saw him just existing.

Because Wolverine IS a fantastic character, and never before in the history of comics-to-movie-dom has an actor and character come together quite so perfectly** as Hugh Jackman and Wolverine. Jackman brings heart and soul to what could have been a one note growler and helps to turn the coolest guy in the Marvel universe into the coolest guy on the screen. And this movie actually has a lot of really good casting. Liev Schrieber, as Logan's brother and enemy (Sabertooth, although the movie never explicitly says this), is pretty damn cool. The fight sequences between the two of them are kinetic and flowing. The sort of mutant fellowship that Logan and bro join up with early in the movie is pretty cool too, with Ryan Reynolds playing a fast talking sword swinger*** and Dominic Monaghan cameo'ing as a man who can control electricity.

But that's pretty much the extent of the good stuff I can say. The direction is aimless and lacking a distinct visual style. The plot is ambling, crowded, and kind of dumb. Wolverine himself is poorly served by the material, and every "big" revelation feels more "duh" than "woah."

The first two X-men films were both helmed by Bryan Singer, who, despite making the pretty-but-boring Superman Returns, had a distinct voice. The next two films (the first of which was done by Brett Ratner, drawing the ire of the geeky crowd, and this one being helmed by Gavin Hood) lack that distinctive feel. One of the things that keeps other franchises on course is the constant, dedicated work of the people behind the films. On Batman, it's Christopher Nolan and David Goyer. On Harry Potter, it's producer David Yates. These people maintian the quality of the product by ensuring that each movie stays true to its characters and that a continuous story is being told throughout the films (whether or not you love the Harry Potter sage, you can see the way that a continuous story is being made that seems in full control of both the previous efforts and the future ones). X-men needs that. Without it, the films feel unconnected and purposeless.

The Wovlerine script has nothing new to say about anything. Not love, not honor, not even Wolverine himself. It doesn't even full keep track of it's own backstory (Wolverine's name mysteriously shifts from James to Logan without any explanation). The motive for Wolverine never works beyond a shallow level, and the plot points seem cribbed from other, better movies. What cheaper way to explain a character's motivation than to kill his girlfriend? What better villain than some sort of omnipresent government force? All in all, this story deserved better. This character deserved better. Hugh-freaking-Jackman (in all his hated-by-Dr.-Cox glory) deserves better. But more importantly, fans of dumb summer movies deserve better.

( X-Men Origins: Wolverine Trailer )


Angels and Demons, at least for me, wasn't as much of an epic fail as Wolverine, but that could mostly be because my expectations for it were much, much lower. The trailer felt by the numbers, and The DaVinci Code failed for me on a pretty grand scale. There's no denying that while Wolverine was at least a large amount of fun to watch, Angels and Demons was pretty consistently dull.

The book on which Ron Howard's blockbuster is based was an interesting mystery that asked you, as the reader, to follow along in Robert Langdon as he uncovered the question of the dying cardinals in time to save Vatican City from total destruction. The books feel fast paced and intriguing. Somehow, though, in translating that into a movie, the material ended up feeling boring and hackneyed.

I'm not sure how much of that could be helped. Watching a guy look at things and figure out how they relate to other things probably was never the most cinematic of propositions to begin with. But Ron Howard and Tom Hanks make Langdon's story so dry, so over-serious, that any fun that the books contained is wrung out of the story. Ewan McGregor, popping up here as the Vatican's right hand man, is doing his dubiously-accented best (although this should suprise no one, considering McGregor's one of the few people to escape from the new Star Wars films still seeming capable of acting, thus proving his ability to transcend even the most mind-numbingly stupid franchise dreck, which Angels and Demons certainly isn't), but nearly everyone else seems kind of bored by the proceedings.

That being said, Angels and Demons does a much better job than the DaVinci Code, and is mildly more entertaining. Hanks, magically and surprisingly believably de-aged for this prequel, seems better suited for Langdon, if still far from the Indiana Jones-esque character described in the book. I just wish that the script had more pop and more of a sense of fun. I'm aware that the mutiliation of the Catholic Church's best and brightest might not seem like light hearted fare, but since the movie lacks the gravitas to make a dark tale compelling, it needs to make it fun to watch. On this level, it fails.

( Angels and Demons Trailer )


*Don't feel too bad for me. Star Trek more than made up for it.

** Okay maybe I should say the best good guy character to actor ratio.

*** Lots of asteriks today, but may I submit here, formally, that Ryan Reynolds should definitely play the Flash? Not only is he immensly likeble and built like a superhero, but he's got the wit and charm to more than fill the boots of either Wally West or Barry Allen.

The biggest problem with Terminator: Salvation you can see right there in the title: it's promising a whole lot (salvation) and is simply not capable of delivering it. It's nowhere near as smart or as profound as it thinks it is. Because of this, it doesn't fully deliver as a dumb action movie nor as a smart sci-fi film.

When I first saw the trailer for T:S, I thought it was going to be the kind of brilliant sci-fi that probes the deeper reaches of our humanity. Plus, I thought Christian Bale would be hot and the explosions would be kick ass. The second clause in that sentence turned out to be true.

The plot of the movie gets a bit convoluted and relies heavily on time travel (one of the bigger problems with it), but I'll try to summarize. The movie starts with Marcus Wright in the year 2003, fated to die by lethal injection, and a sickly doctor (Helena Bonham Carter) offering him a "noble" chance to donate his body to science. Fast forward to 2018 and we have John Connor (Christian Bale), not yet the leader of the resistance but pretty high up and the people's favorite as a prophet. He breaks into an important Skynet facility and discovers Skynet is taking human prisoners. In the attack on the facility, Marcus Wright is awakened, mysteriously still young and hot and virile. He escapes, and the next half of the movie follows the parallel stories of Connor and Marcus. Connor is working on the implementation of a new Resistance weapon to defeat the machines using radio waves, and Marcus teams up with Kyle Reese (future time traveling father of John Connor) and his silent compadre (an annoying, unnecessary girl). When Reese is captured by Skynet, Connor and Marcus have to team up (despite Connor's distaste for the metallic Marcus) to save him.

The cast is awesome. Sam Worthington as the cyborg Marcus (whose asked to carry much, much more of the emotional burden of the movie than John Connor) is awesome, and this should be a star making for him. Anton Yelchin, as Kyle Reese (Connor's dad...) was adorable, and I'm happy the movie didn't go in for having him play cheap comedic relief. Kyle Reese, who as we know will in the future go back in time and start kicking some Arnold Schwarzanegger ass, is a badass and the movie treats him as such. By not infantilizing him just to lighten the pervasive mood of destruction and terror the movie actually helps you to take it a lot more seriously.

But that's because they have an annoying silent chick to hang out with Reese and Marcus and provide motivationless help at key moments. The silent partner (be it child or dog) is an overused movie cliche that allows lazy writers to move the plot along, but it feels particularly empty here (at least in movies like I Am Legend you believe Will Smith's attachment to his dog; here I didn't believe Marcus's or Kyle's true attachment to their mute companion outside of an "ooh she's a child we should protect her" thing). And while Christian Bale is expertly cast as John Connor, the grown up would-be leader of the Resistance, the movie therefore doesn't bother to create a real character for Connor. We are meant to automatically assume that he's important and profound and noble because the movie says he is and because Bale brings beacoup gravitas to the screen. He's a great actor, and his portrayal of John Connor is distinct and awesome (you'll have at least one moment where you're afraid he's bordering on Batman voice, but overall Connor is nothing like the dark knight). But I wish that the movie cared as much about Connor as it does about Marcus. Marcus is by far the more intriguing presence in the film, where it should have been more evenly balanced.

The female characters in the movie are beyond weak. A subplot of the story has Marcus coming into contact with Blair, a female member of the Resistance. Remember, Terminator is the series that introduced us to Linda Hamilton as a badass mama on the run with muscles to rival Robert Patricks. So for a moment, I loved this storyline. Marcus saves Blair at one point, and when the Resistance wants to tear him apart and figure out how he works, Blair saves Marcus. When I thought this wasn't a stupid fuzed in love story, I thought this was awesome. It was a sort of honor amongst warriors thing where, thanks to her honor, Blair couldn't let them destroy a person she saw as human. But by making it into a love story, the movie just makes Blair a stupid woman who fell in love with a man over one night. Maybe it's an over reaction, but given the fact that she was the only female character of note (Bryce Dallas Howard also appears as Connor's established lover, but she's not asked to do much more than seem concerned for Bale) it is especially glaring. She's overly sexualized to an unneccesary degree (even for a summer movie) and she's weak to boot.

If you think too hard about the time travel, father-saving, John Connor/Kyle Reese thing, you get stuck in an infinite loop whereby Skynet sends someone back because they send somebody back because they sent somebody back. Yeah. And the movie isn't smart enough to be fully in control of its own time traveling mythology. The explosions are really, really cool, and the action is mostly top notch, but often the movie relies too heavily on cliches and nostalgia. Kyle Reese saying, "Come with me if you want to live," was a cool throwback to the original movie. John Connor awkwardly fitting "I'll be back," into his goodbye to his girlfriend just felt unneccesary and lazy.

It's too bad that Terminator:Salvation isn't a smarter movie, because it had all the ingredients of a great summer movie. As it was, it was an enjoyable, if over-serious, action flick.

( Terminator Salvation trailer )

What would happen if you took the very best parts of Star Trek, combined them with a healthy dose of Star Wars, and threw in a few dashes of more modern science fiction like BSG and Firefly for good measure? You might get something that looks like JJ Abrams Star Trek. Not only did the new film reboot of the Star Trek franchise fill all of my expectations (and more), I think it can fill just about any body's. It's the rare film that plays well into the fanbase while maintaining an open, inclusive air that seems to invite new people to get swept up into "space, the final frontier."

It's easy with a film like Star Trek, which is currently receiving a nigh-unfathomable solid-A score from audiences and a 96% on Rotten Tomatoes (to put that number into context, last week's X:Men Origins* got a 37%, and Schindler's Frickin List also got a 96% ), to think of its success as inevitable. There's a sense watching the movie that Star Trek existed (like Michelangelo once insisted his statues did inside the stone) inside the movie making ether, just waiting for someone to chisel it out. But Star Trek did not have to be a great movie (just look at the previous few Trek-movie-installments for confirmation); it could easily have been cheesy, disrespectful to the fans, or the type of fans-only club that turns away other movie goers.

Every step of the way, the right decisions were made with Star Trek, and this started with the cast, which was truly across the board astonishing. All of the actors taking over the Trek-classics (Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Uhura, Chekov, Scotty, and Sulu) managed to simultaneously honor their predeccesors and put their own spin on the characters. Karl Urban as Doctor "Bones" McCoy was probably the most overtly faithful to the source material. He truly and completely sounded like DeForest Kelley reincarnated and made twenty years younger than we ever saw him. Normally, this sort of replication would be distracting, but Urban managed to flesh out the character while making him feel authentic. It also helps that McCoy isn't iconic in the same way Kirk and Spock (or even Sulu and Scotty) are, so even while doing a spot on impression it felt like Urban had room to create his own awesomeness.

The rest of the supporting players, from Anton Yelchin adorably accented playing Chekov to the erst-while Harold, John Cho, as a much less affected Sulu, to Zoe Saldana as a spunky but still-mini-skirted Uhura, were all amazingly charismatic and charming and intersting with what little screen time they had. Each of these characters had to feel iconic and interesting without getting half as much screen time as Kirk, Spock, McCoy or even Scotty, and it's amazing how well cast and well acted these roles are. I was only ever really worried about two bits of casting, the first of which was Simon Pegg as Scotty. Now before you take away my hipster cred, let me just say I love everything about Simon Pegg. But I was afraid I would feel like I was watching Shaun of the Dead put on a Scottish accent and play with the warp drives. But Pegg so completely and totally pulls it off, with just the right amount of comedic relief and legitimate brilliance, that he makes you forget you ever loved him before he and his tiny alien sidekick started babbling their ways into our hearts. Eric Bana, in a new movie original creation as Nero, the Romulan antagonist with the crazy face tatoos, airs on the refined sense of crazy. This is a practically brillaint move. Where another villain would be speechifying, Nero pops up on the screen and says "Hello, Christopher," and it's a million times more menacing for its restraint.

But let's get real, this movie belongs to Spock and Kirk. And in that regard, God in Heaven, would it have ever been easy to mess this up. Is there any actor as widely known and often parodied as William Shatner? His every manneurism is common knowledge even to people who consider themselves far too cool for the tricorder-carrying set. And Chris Pine? Who the hell is this kid? Some nobody, who'd only ever been in the Princess Diaries 2?! You watch him as Kirk, and you notice something: he's not trying to be Shatner. There's no strange line delivery (and I mean that lovingly; Shatner on ST:TOS is freaking brilliant), no tight man-shirts. And yet... he's Kirk. From the cocky grin to the sarcasm weathered with pain, Pine manages to stay true to a certain Kirk-like feeling while redefining James Tiberius for a whole new generation of fans. The way he bites into an apple as he effortlessly befuddles the Kobayashi Maru is pure Shatner(there's a reason for this: it's a geek nod to Kirk in Wrath of Khan eating an apple while talking about the Kobayashi Maru)., but with Pine's own pretty-boy-with-an-edge glean. His Kirk is a failed pugalist idealist, who gets the crap beaten out of him far more often than he kicks the crap out of other people, with a permanently scarred looking face and an almost spasm like tendency to hit on anything around him. And he's damn cool.

And Spock. Oh Spock. Leonard Nimoy may be the most revered actor in the Star Trek cannon because he's never turned his back on the fans and he doesn't do Priceline commercials. Who the hell could fill his pointy ears? Sylar from Heroes? Turns out, HELL YES. Not only does Zachary Quinto bring poise, grace and logic to the role, Abrams and Quinto have actually expanded on the Spock mythos through his relationship with Uhura. I thought, at first, that this would feel tagged on, like the producers thought it would be easier for people to understand Spock in particular and Vulcans in general through a love story, but Quinto does so much with so little expression that it's near impossible not to get swept up in his emotions. His and Kirk's budding relationship (which often manifests itself here through fisticuffs) is the heart of the movie, and the chemistry between Quinto and Pine is palpable. The quiet desperation of Quinto's "Mother!" as he beams on board the Enterprise with the last of his race is at turns heartbreaking and believable, made all the more so by the movie's refusal to linger overlong on it. Bringing the one and only Nimoy in to face his replacement in the third act only serves to highlight both how much Quinto has made the role his own and how very well he is honoring his predeccesor. And for those of you out there who wonder how Leonard Nimoy could possibly appear in this film, let me just say it is at once true to the crazy Star Trek logic the rules all the series and a pretty satisfying plot development. And while it's sad that we couldn't get a glimpse at all our old favorites, it could only have been Nimoy. For one thing, Nimoy's one of the few of the old cast that doesn't seem like a parody of himself these days, and who through all the years has managed to stay classy and respected, but it's also just inherent in the Spock character. He adds gravitas to the film without ever seeming overshadowing, although a lot of that has to do with just how damn good Quinto and Pine are at making us buy into their characters.

That spirit, of honor and originality, pervades the film, and in fact is kind of its modus opperandi. The conceit of the film (which I won't spoil here) allows Abrams to both create his own mythology and honor the original series (if you're a geek, play spot the nerd-clue throughout the movie. Bonus points if you see the Tribble), and it's much more brilliant than it should have been. There are moments of old school Star Trek shenanigans (I particularly loved the ridiculousness of McCoy sneaking Kirk onto the Enterprise by injecting him with a disease that made his hands swell up to the size of #1 Fingers at sporting events) as well as new movie, Star Wars-inspired cool (the creatures on the Hoth-like planet read like a George Lucas dream).

On top of that, Abrams is a damn good director. He leaves his visual finger prints all over, and the movie benefits greatly from having his unique style sequencing it. To bring us back to the original point, the best action films feel like they could never have been made another way. At the end of The Dark Knight, it seems unfathomable that anyone else could do with Batman what Christopher Nolan and Christian Bale did. When Tony Stark smirks, sips his scotch, and says "I am Ironman," I can't imagine anyone else besides John Favreau and Robert Downey Jr. having made that happen. Hell, let's go old school, and say that when Indy and Marion bicker their way out at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark it's impossible not to just see Indiana as forever and ever Harrison Ford with no one but Spielberg and Lucas by his side. That's how Abrams made Star Trek feel; indelibly his and his cast's, yet timeless and beautiful and effortless all the same time. I could quibble with a few small things (Wynonya Rider was just distracting as Spock's mom, bad guys motivations bordered on the silly at times), but they're so infinitely tiny compared to the grandeur of Star Trek that it doesn't make much sense. It's a Star Trek at once for fans of all the other Treks and for fans of movies in general. It's no more tied to one side or the other, and it benefits from this. It turns out what Star Trek needed for a good kick in the creative keister was a Star Wars fan, a Brain-eating TV Star, and a former Lindsay Lohan costar.

FOR THE RECORD: I am not a Trekkie. Like so many things in the geekyverse (with the exceptions of Harry Potter and Joss Whedon), I fall pretty squarely in the middle (although not by any means the average) when it comes to dorky obsession. That means that while I know the difference between the uniforms worn on the Next Generation and The Original Series, and can name and rank all the captains, I couldn't explain to you what makes the Starship Voyager different from the USS Enterprise or be able to recount for you episode by episode summaries of The Original Series. I know a lot more than the average Joe Schmo about the Trek-universe, but a lot less than a true Trekkie.

*I owe you, dear blog world, an X-men:Origins Wolverine review. I saw it opening night, like a good little nerd, and thought mostly that Hugh Jackman has more veins on his body than any other living human. I will provide a more in depth analysis within the next week, but suffice it to say, I won't be writing any poetry to the gods of X-men any time soon.

**On the obligatory feminist note, yes I would love Uhura to get more to do than just smirk at Spock seductively, but I really liked the way Sardana played her with a self-aware air, and think that, despite the miniskirt, it actually showed a lot of development in the portrayal of women, and am confident that a sequel would get to see her do a lot more ass kicking and a lot less looking helpless.


( Trailer! )

May is the real start of Blockbuster season, so in keeping with my populist tastes, it's pretty jam packed with much anticipated movies:


X-Men Origins: Wolverine --> I don't care what advanced buzz thanks to the leak is. I don't care that X3 sucked. I care that Wolverine kicks ass and that Hugh Jackman looks really good in that tank top. Coming to a theater near you this Friday, May 2.



Star Trek --> Advanced buzz on this is amazing, but even if it wasn't, I'd be there with my tricorder on.  Beaming into theaters May 8.






Angels and Demons --> Although the Davinci Code bored me, the addition of Ewan Mcgregor (who made even The Clone Wars enjoyable) and my favorite Dan Brown book suddenly seems like it will make a much more exciting movie. May 15.





The Brothers Bloom --> Mark Ruffalo and Adrien Brody play conman pulling a job on Rachel Weisz. (that involves romantic intrigue, according to the IMDB plot summary). It's got pretty great buzz surrounding it, and I'd probably be there to see it even if it weren't directed by Rian Johnson who directed the strange, dark, high school-noir classic, Brick. May 15.




Terminator: Salvation --> All the Christan Bale-screaming, Arnold-maybe-cameo'ing, McG-exploding glory races into theaters on May 22nd.






Up --> next year's Best Animated Feature, Pixar's Up, follows the adventures of an old man whose final wish is to see South America, floats into theaters at the very end of May's Movie Extravaganza, May 29th.

17 Again might as well have been titled "My Life Was Better When I Was Zac Efron." And on that level, well... duh.

17 Again is a de-ageing comedy, the bizzarro-Big or 13 Going On 30. We start off with Mike O'Donnell and his one day wife, Scarlette, still as teenagers, with Mike blowing the big game (complete with college scouts and a screaming coach) when Scarlette tells him she's pregnant. Then we jump forward eighteen years. Now Mike is Matthew Perry (and Scarlette is Leslie Mann), and he resents everything about this life he's living, so Scarlette's divorcing him, and his two kids want nothing to do with him, and he's going nowhere with his job, and he had to move in with the nerdy kid who was always his bestfriend in high school and who is now a multi-millionaire super nerd (Thomas Lennon).

I'm not going to go into the specifics of how he becomes 17 again (in these movies, it's best to sit through the first twenty minutes aware that neither the actors nor the writers particularly cared until the body-switching hijinks occur), but there's something with a rip in time and suddenly in place of mopey, definite-thinks-he's-too-good-for-this Perry, we've got Zac Efron, and the whole piece kicks into high gear. Not only does Efron bring considerable jazz, charisma, and good will to the part, he seems so excited to be free from the Disney confines (even if it's within a relatively Disney-fied movie) and be able to say words like "douche" and "damn" that he treats this performance with the zeal most people reserve for ostensibly more "prestige" movies. He also has pretty damn good chemistry with everyone, but especially with Lennon (the best friend) and Leslie Mann (the wife).

With any body-switching, time-travelly comedy, there's a certain inherent ick factor. The part in Freaky Friday where Lindsay Lohan's soon-to-be-stepdad is trying to flirt with Lindsay-Lohan-in-Jamie-Curtiss's-body. The whole Tom Hanks/Elizabeth Perkins subplot in Big. The first scene in 13 Going on 30 post-body-switch with Jennifer Garner's 13 year old trying to get a naked man out of her house. But in none of those films does the ick factor overwhelm the story, and your mostly willing to laugh at it. That... kind of happens here. The Leslie Mann/ Zac Efron love story actually works fascinatingly well, mostly due to the fact that Mann does a very good job portraying both the right level of motherly concern that this boy keeps hitting on her and fascination at the fact that he looks just like her husband did in high school and keeps mysteriously knowing facts about her life. Plus, Efron really is good at playing a 38 year-old-man trapped inside a 17 year old body.

Slightly less so with the Michelle Trachtenberg storyline. See, the once-Dawn-Summers plays O'Donnell's daughter, Maggie, who is dating a total loser (played hilariously by Weeds' Hunter Parrish). Mike spends a lot of his time trying to break the two of them up because, well, the boyfriend's a loser who tortures her brother and takes basketsful of condoms during sex ed (this was one of my favorite scenes in the whole movie, with Mike lecturing the whole class on abstinence in order to try and keep Maggie and loser bf apart, and because of the fact that he's Zac Efron, all the girls deciding that's the cool thing to do). But of course Maggie doesn't know "Mark" (as she thinks of him) is her Dad, and that leads to a definitely "ew" scene. I was really hoping they'd avoid this particular joke by having Maggie just get a fatherly vibe off Mark, and that's certainly what Effron's trying to give off, but when the movie went to this joke, my heart died a little. It was the one moment where the ick factor, and therefore the hoary premise, overwhlemed the rest of the movie.

Aside from that, 17 Again is a pretty damn enjoyable comedy, if you're inclined to like this kind of thing. The writing isn't horrible, but it doesn't have the snap of 13 Going on 30 or Big. As these types of movies tend to be, it's formulaic to the utmost, and almost entirely held afloat by the performance. But here's where it gets enjoyable - the performances, with the possible exception of Trachtenberg, are really good. Thomas Lennon (of Reno 911) is fantastic as the nerdy-elf-eared best friend (and cover-Dad), and his romance with Melora Hardin's Principle (Jan from the Office!) is a hilarious and goofy distraction from the rest of the shennanigans. Sterling Knight, as Mike's geeky son Alex, is the perfect mixture of high school angst and wry wit, and his plotline with Efron is way more fun, and way less creepy, to watch than Maggie's. And as aforementioned, both Efron and Mann bring their A-game, and it's especially fun to get to watch Mann not play a naggy shrewish wife for once.

You're going to read a lot of reviews that say that Efron is the best thing about this movie as though it's a bad thing, but these movies live or die based on their lead performers, and in that regard 17 Again is a smashing success.

( 17 Again Trailer )