Film Review - EDGE OF DARKNESS

If a movie’s pre-release potential could be counted in currency, Edge of Darkness would have been a mighty lucrative venture, yes siree! Not only does the project mark the long-awaited return of Mel Gibson – in classic Mad Mel mode, no less - to the acting world, it also boasts a screenplay co-written by The Departed Oscar-winner William Monahan and the capable directorial duties of Martin Campbell, the British helmer responsible for revitalizing James Bond twice with 1995’s GoldenEye and 2006’s Casino Royale. Heck, even the film’s original source material, the highly lauded 1985 BBC mini-series of the same name, is of the utmost calibre.

One would not have been foolish to assume that, given the prestige and obvious strengths of the ridiculously talented individuals involved, the final product would be a solid A-grade mainstream thriller. Sadly, however, they would be very, very wrong, as Edge of Darkness is anything but. Rather, it’s an utterly boring, ungainly mess; an ugly mishmash of loosely connected plot threads that’s tries to be both an intimate revenge tale and a socially relevant conspiracy yarn while failing miserably on both counts.

Regrettable, as Gibson is in fine seething form as Thomas Craven (If there’s a more awesome last name than “Craven”, I’ve yet to hear it), a hard-edged Boston homicide cop whose spritely daughter Emma (Bojana Novakovic) gets shot-gunned to smithereens in his front yard. Despite initially believing that the hit was intended for him, Craven inevitably winds up following a trail of leads to her former place of work, the Northmoor Corporation, a radioactive waste facility with secret military connections, overseen by slick CEO Jack Bennett (Danny Huston – an actor skilled at playing characters who virtually ooze sleaze). Convinced of a connection between his daughter’s demise and the good folks of Northmoor, Craven sets out to expose the truth behind the obviously crooked company – a complicated task which becomes even thornier with the arrival of Jedburgh (Ray Winstone), a shadowy government-appointed “cleaner”, who may or may not hold the answers that the grieving father needs.

Now, in the original six-hour plus televised version (also helmed by Campbell), these events no doubt – considering the voluminous praise surrounding it - played out like an intricately unfolding riddle, with each solved piece of Craven’s puzzle hitting the viewer like an astonishing revelation. But here, streamlined into two hours, Edge of Darkness is confusing and clumsy, with almost every single new surprise delivered to Gibson and the audience via a one-note, exposition-spewing side character (who must, of course, begin each discourse by hysterically stating their refusal to cooperate). The only real exception to this rule is Winstone, whose Herculean efforts in imbuing his enigmatic operative with dramatic heft are akin to witnessing cinematic alchemy. Speaking in an gravelly, earth-rumbling timbre, and making fearsome use of his hulking build, he commands the screen like a true master, making even the direst descriptive dialogue flow as if it had originated from the mighty pen of Sir Billy Shakespeare himself.

Nevertheless, the fine Brit thespian is done no favours by Monahan and Andrew Bovell’s script, which introduces both him and other key players with suitable pomp and circumstance, before abruptly scuttling them off-screen (only to have them later pop up when necessary) in order to regain focus on Craven’s plight. While Jedburgh’s crucial character arc is rushed and emotionally unsatisfying, other actors – such as Jay O. Sanders as Gibson’s cop partner – find themselves more or less stuck in Act 1; factoring heavily in the establishment of the plot before practically vanishing into thin air. Even the character of Emma – the impetus for the whole flippin’ story – does little more than furrow her brow, projectile vomit and take a one-way trip through a closed door. It’s impossible to share Craven’s considerable grief when the movie’s tragic victim is such a forgettable, charisma-deficient blank.

Martin Campbell, a reliable journeyman director, proves unable to bring any life to the inert shambles around him, though he does try valiantly by shoe-horning in a completely pointless, but efficient, Bourne-esque fist-fight and aping Scorsese’s distinctive style of staging shocking bursts of sudden violence – a technique which often comes across as more comical than horrifying. With that said, the helmer has at least fashioned this snoozer into something pretty, with razor-blade editing and an omnipresent cloak of grim moodiness which, while overwhelmingly unpleasant to endure, is mostly consistent (minus the shamelessly unearned sentimental ending) and thematically appropriate.

Frankly, when compared against 2008’s smart and engaging State of Play – another adored BBC mini-series adapted by Hollywood – it’s embarrassing how wildly this picture misfires. It’s a syrup-paced mystery film without an ounce of mystery, where the villains are shallow and unmistakeable and the hero is always ten steps behind even the slowest audience member. Ultimately, Edge of Darkness is a promising endeavour that disastrously crashed somewhere amidst its turbulent journey across the pond.

1.5 out of 5

*Originally printed in SFU's The Peak: Feb. 8th, 2010.

Film Review - LEGION

If there is a deeper message to be found within Legion, the sloppy new biblical horror actioner, it’s that God has completely, and perhaps irrevocably, lost his ever-loving marbles. At last fed up with “mankind’s bullshit” (I blame the whole CoCo/Leno fiasco), He’s orchestrated a swift and aggressive master plan which calls for the apocalypse to be brought about by an invading army of unstoppable seraph warriors, led by the mighty Gabriel. However, as opposed to simply allowing his winged soldiers free reign to tear a relentless bloody swath through the heart of humanity, he’s decided - rather questionably, it must be said – to complicate matters by ordering them to inhabit fragile (read: non-bulletproof) mortal bodies and utilize only their sharpened teeth and claws in battle. Uh huh.

Fortunately for all of us unfortunate Earth-dwellers, gutsy ass-kickin’, heat-packin’ archangel Michael (Paul Bettany), realizing that his Holiness is riding the express train to Cuckoo County, makes the valiant decision to abandon his divine flock, hew off his wings for no good reason (It’s the symbolic thing to do, I suppose) and take up arms alongside a small, eccentric band of B-movie stereotypes occupying a dusty diner/gas station in the desolate desert town of, wait for it, Paradise Falls. This motley crew of weary souls consists of the businesses hard-bitten owner Bob (Dennis Quaid), his mopey loser son Jeep (Lucas Black), one-armed fry cook Percy (Charles S. Dutton), pregnant waitress Charlie (Adrianne Palicki), mysterious tough-guy Kyle (Tyrese Gibson) and a rich, snotty couple (Kate Walsh and John Tenney) on the road with their saucy teen daughter Audrey (Willa Holland). Begrudgingly united by the lethal forces banging at the windows, and tasked with ensuring the safe birth and survival of Charlie's unborn child – the prophesied saviour of mankind - Michael and his new flesh-and-blood allies prepare to face down the vindictive fury of the unreasonable Almighty.

As ridiculous as it reads on paper, there’s something undeniably charming about Legion’s corny Old Testament doom-mongering that I wish writer/director Scott Stewart had been less hesitant to run amok with. Sure, we get fleeting glimpses of wickedly amusing gross-out camp in the film’s early first half, in weirdo encounters with a foul-mouthed, spider-walking senior citizen and an elastic-limbed ice-cream man, but the novice helmer never embraces the devil-may-care rebelliousness that this material requires to make an impact. Rather, there’s an oppressive earnestness that drags the picture down, disregarding cheap thrills and attitude in favour of never-ending scenes depicting glum characters spouting insipid Dr. Phil-isms to each-other regarding, among other things, being true to oneself, learning to trust others, and breaking free from the burden of past mistakes.

Had Stewart been working with smart or inventive cinematic elements, I’d be willing to abide his propensity for self-importance, but the film is a blatant mishmash of ripped off plot-points and ideas without a clear identity of its own. In fact, one could make a hell of a drinking game out of spotting the endless references and “borrowed” scenes (I myself jotted down The Terminator, I Am Legend, Night of the Living Dead, Evil Dead, Jeepers Creepers and Assault on Precinct 13), though it would probably induce unconsciousness well before the end credits. While ham-fisted homages can be great fun in enjoyable trash (2008’s Doomsday is a superior example), Legion’s lack of identity plays havoc with the movie’s narrative flow, leading to an often distractingly inconsistent tone and badly tacked-on third act that feels desperate, cluttered and maddeningly rushed.

Thank high heavens, then, for Paul Bettany, whose stoically commanding performance as Michael is the film’s lone saving grace. The criminally underrated actor has a firm grasp on playing characters grappling with religious inner-conflict (witness his albino assassin from The Da Vinci Code or his portrayal of Charles Darwin in Creation), and he instils his archangel hero with almost superhuman gravitas. Exploiting his towering, wiry frame to its full intimidating effect, Bettany never falters in his dedication to grounding the silliness around him, whether blowing fiery crucifix-shaped holes in walls, engaging in sombre philosophical exchanges with Kevin Durand’s misguided Gabriel or using a hand-gun to convert a gas-pump nozzle into a make-shift angel-roasting flame-thrower. Unlike the sea of actors drowning in bad dialogue and false sentiment around him, Bettany delivers an effective and forceful performance markedly better than the lame movie it’s stuck in.

Certainly, wasting Bettany is unforgivable, but Legion’s most egregious sin is that it shamelessly teases us with its nutty “When Angels Attack!”/Slayer concept album premise while lacking the goofball conviction to deliver on the infinite guilty-pleasure possibilities. Instead, it’s joyless and pedestrian; an entirely unremarkable, factory-assembled genre entry made for all that will be likely enjoyed by very, very few. It’s a touch ironic that, in making a film about God’s lack of faith in man, the filmmakers reveal a crippling lack of faith in their own audience.

2 out of 5

*Originally printed in SFU's The Peak: Feb. 1st, 2010.

2010's Top 5 Most Intriguing Upcoming Films!

While perusing this list, you might find your blood-pressure rising an iota, your mind heatedly asking “Where’s Iron Man 2, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 or Free Willy 4: Escape from Pirate Cove?!! How could they possibly be excluded? I demand to know who wrote this tripe!”

Well, that’s because these five selections constitute the most intriguing projects on the horizon; films with little advertising presence or explicit advance buzz. Movies that are question marks, as opposed to exclamation marks.

The aforementioned three, er two biggies — plus Alice in Wonderland, The A-Team, Tron: Legacy and the like — lack the mystery and creative innovativeness to make this particular list. As exciting as they seem, there’s precious little uncertainty to lay awake pondering and speculating over.

Rather, these five choices are the films I’m most eager to see unleashed onto audiences in 2010. They may be disasters or they could prove to be masterpieces, but either way there’s an irresistible air of secrecy and uniqueness around them that has me impatient to uncover whatever hidden genius may be burning within.

So, on that note, enjoy.

5. THE RUNAWAYS (March 19, 2010 – limited): This rock biopic of the famous titular ’70s teen band is based on lead singer Cherie Currie’s memoir Neon Angel and bears all the markings of being a rivetingly authentic, down ‘n dirty journey through the alternately glitzy and soul-killingly cruel music industry meat-grinder. Packed with a number of Hollywood It! Girls — including Dakota Fanning as Currie, Twilight’s Kristen Stewart as Joan Jett and Halloween’s Scout Taylor-Compton as Lita Ford — The Runaways could provide a spectacularly raw showcase for these actresses to wow audiences turned off by their previous less-than-stellar genre-based work. Directed by Floria Sigismondi – who helmed two of Marilyn Manson’s most visually inventive and influential videos in “The Beautiful People” and “Tourniquet” – and backed by a no-doubt killer soundtrack, this flick packs serious Devil Horn-waving potential.

Check out the short teaser here.

4. I LOVE YOU PHILLIP MORRIS (March 26, 2010 – limited): Although Jim Carrey has yet to receive many accolades for his dramatic work, his output has been exceedingly strong – minus The Number 23 – so I’m really eager to see this quirky homosexual love story pairing him against the always reliable Ewan McGregor. Walking a fine line between comedy and heartfelt drama, Phillip Morris chronicles the true-life tale of a happily married southern policeman who — following a fateful tragic accident — considerably alters the course of his life, switching teams, as it were, and living life on a the wild side. After meeting McGregor’s character in a prison stint, Carey’s Steven Russell becomes obsessed with breaking his newfound love out of the clink, and a game of twisty conman-ship begins. The film has supposedly been stuck on the shelf for a while, with the studio unsure of how to market a project filled with unabashedly gay material, but, personally, I can’t wait to see what the rubber-faced funny-man can do with such a challenging role. Who knows, if it clicks, it may even earn him his first long-awaited Oscar nomination. Time will tell.

Open your eyes to the first full-length international trailer here. (Caution: It’s a tad risqué, so I’m gonna label it NSFW.)

3. BLACK SWAN (2010): What in the name of One-Eyed Odin is Darren Aronofsky up to with this supernatural ballet thriller? You can read a little more about my thoughts — and some character details — regarding the project in a past news story I did for It’s Just Movies, but let me add that I’m truly fascinated by whatever it is the crafty director is up to. I’m also desperately hoping that Aronofsky can really launch Mila Kunis – a ridiculously charismatic A-list talent in the making – into the stratosphere while also weaving another character-driven cinematic tapestry worthy of deep contemplation and critical analysis. Maybe Black Swan can also give the director’s sadly underwhelming box-office reputation a much-needed boost. The promise of Kunis and Natalie Portman in tights can’t hurt too much.

2. THE FIGHTER (2010): Helmed by notoriously combustible auteur David O. Russell, this based-on-true-events drama details the burgeoning early career of “Irish” Mickey Ward (Mark Wahlberg), a boxer on his way to the light welterweight-level pros with the help of his recovering drug addict half-brother Dickie Eklund (Christian Bale). With supporting assistance from Academy Award-nominees Amy Adams and Melissa Leo, this project has all the bearings and prestige of being a 2010 Oscar dark-horse. Besides the appeal of the gritty underdog story, what really has me drooling in anticipation over The Fighter is the early buzz surrounding Bale’s go-for-broke performance, wherein he apparently disappears under the wounded skin of his emotionally-damaged character. Early spy pics reveal an emaciated shell of a man – a welcome departure from the gruff, tormented heroes he’s specialized in as of late – which will hopefully remind forgetful critics and ticket-buyers of the actor’s chameleon-like ability to distort and manipulate his own image when required. If Russell can hold the whole shebang together, we may have a serious contender on our hands.

1. INCEPTION (July 16, 2010): Do you even have to ask why? This is Christopher Nolan’s big dice-roll; a chance to parlay his gargantuan Dark Knight success into an epic-sized $200-million-dollar passion project largely free of studio interference and outside input. Whatever the results, Inception promises to be Nolan 100 percent unfiltered, exploring his own obsessions (identity confusion, perhaps?) on the biggest canvas with the biggest, most talented stars — including Leonardo DiCaprio, Ellen Page, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Michael Caine, Marion Cotillard — possible. What is it about? I don’t want to know until I walk out of the midnight advance showing. However, after such glorious mind-f***’s as Memento and The Prestige, my expectations are mighty high. Fortunately, Mr. Nolan — one of the most dependable directors currently toiling in the biz of show — is thus far seemingly incapable of producing work that doesn’t surprise and leave us begging for more.

You can try to unlock Inception's latest trailer here.

Film Review - THE LOVELY BONES

Even the greatest film directors occasionally meet a cinematic nut they can’t crack; an ambitious tighwire walk of a project that ultimately culminates in a glorious mess of inappropriate stylistic tics, confused storytelling, and misspent good intentions. Steven Spielberg had 1941. Martin Scorsese had New York, New York. Tim Burton had Planet of the Apes. And now Peter Jackson, the visionary mastermind behind The Lord of the Rings and the flawed (but sweeping) King Kong remake, has The Lovely Bones, a perfect storm of gross artistic overindulgence and narrative carelessness.

Too bad, because it’s not as if Alice Sebold’s best-selling 2002 novel, which traced, in heartstring-pulling detail, the life and untimely death of 14-year-old Susie Salmon (“Like the fish!”), was devoid of rich material. As portrayed in the film version by gifted young actress Saoirse Ronan — an Oscar-nominee for 2007’s Atonement — Susie is a sprightly, shy, and cheerful middle-child, adored by her loving middle-class parents Jack and Abigail (Mark Wahlberg and Rachel Weisz), as well as her boozy, vampy grandmother Lynn (Susan Sarandon), and hopelessly enamoured with her dreamy British classmate Ray (Reece Ritchie). As cruel fate would have it, however, shortly after her nervous first interaction with the object of her unbridled affection, Susie is lured to her doom by her creepy neighbour Mr. Harvey (a sinister and barely recognizable Stanley Tucci), a cunning sexual predator who hides behind a deceptively placid demeanour of nerdy shlubbiness.

Spirited away from our earthly domain, the girl awakens in the “In-between,” a heavenly surrealistic world of lush green gardens, bobbing lighthouses, crystalline ocean, and ornately-designed gazebos, where she is able to observe first-hand the shattering after-effects of her grim demise upon the people she loves. While her anguished father becomes consumed with the need for closure — an obsession which causes a dreadful rift between the two Salmon parents — and Grandma Lynn is forced to take dominance over the broken household, Susie’s inquisitive older sister Lindsey (Rose McIver) begins to stir animalistic cravings within Mr. Harvey’s unhinged mind. Eager for revenge against her killer and desperately yearning for her family to heal, Susie becomes stuck in limbo, unable to move onto the next stage of the afterlife until she can find solace in her present situation and leave her cherished former life behind.

In its earliest stages, prior to Susie’s regrettable exit, Jackson’s direction feels confident and restrained, carefully drawing the viewer into the immaculately-recreated 1970s-period setting and allowing us to settle comfortably into the wholly ordinary — yet ominously foreboding — daily life of the Salmon clan. He makes us genuinely care for these people, for their modest hopes and dreams, and understands exactly how to twinge our fragile human sympathies when necessary. Indeed, when Tucci’s perverted killer makes his presence fully known, casually convincing Susie to step into his underground hide-out, it’s akin to being locked in an emotional vice, unable to turn away from the unavoidable tragedy chillingly taking place on-screen.

Unfortunately, it’s at this crucial point that the crippling limitations of the patchwork screenplay by Jackson, Fran Walsh, and Philippa Boyens, rear their ugly head and The Lovely Bones scatters in multiple directions at once. Although the story is ostensibly intended to be an intimate study of a family in turmoil, the script unforgivably condenses the Salmons’ poignant journey into a superficial series of un-involving bullet-points (Weisz’ character, in particular, feels criminally short-changed) with the occasional inappropriate comedic montage tossed in to alleviate the gloom. It’s perhaps a sign of the film’s borderline cynical nature that the unsavoury murderer is given a more satisfying and well-developed character arc than Susie’s mourning loved ones.

The Lovely Bones’ biggest bungle, though, is in how Jackson chooses to portray Susie’s psychedelic, prog-rock album cover-esque trip through the magical “In-between” zone. Exploiting the potential of gaudy CGI to its fullest, the director creates a fantasy-land which, more often than not, comes across like Ronan standing in front of a splashy demo-reel. These dreary segments, which constitute a large chunk of the film’s run-time, feel utterly disconnected from the rest of the work and lead to numerous jarring edits when the story bounces clumsily between its two contrasting realms.

If there is an upside to this often disastrous — yet bizarrely watchable — work, it’s that Jackson’s inherent brilliance as a filmmaker does manage to make itself known from time-to-time, such as during a nail-bitingly tense house investigation sequence. Sure, these moments are quickly overshadowed by the flick’s insufferably inept storytelling, or unintentionally hilarious bits (don’t even get me started on the inexplicably dragged-out climax involving a safe that seems to take upwards of an hour to move 10 feet), but they act as a pleasant oasis in the middle of an otherwise barren entertainment desert. Still, for the good of Peter Jackson’s otherwise-impeccable filmography and future, I propose that The Lovely Bones be swiftly buried in a shallow grave, preferably unmarked.

2 out of 5

*Originally printed in SFU's The Peak: Jan 25th, 2010.

The Worst Films of 2009!

Before delving into my Top 10 Worst Films of 2009, I’d like to make clear that this list is not without its glaring omissions. I never subjected myself to All about Steve, Old Dogs or The Hottie and the Nottie. I avoided Bride Wars and Miss March like the plague. I also made sure to not buy a ticket to Planet 51.

I did see New Moon and Transformers 2 but they fell more into the “forgettably mediocre” category than the “unwatchable” one.

So, basically, this list really represents the most unbearable movie-watching experience I did end up enduring this year, the films that either caught me by complete, horrified surprise, or I went in gritting my teeth for.

Anyhoo, onto the list!

1) HALLOWEEN II If Rob Zombie’s remake of John Carpenter’s 1978 original was uninspired and hackneyed, his sequel is an utterly embarrassing catastrophe; a wildly miscalculated attempt at creating an artsy slasher film through hokey pop-psychology, tin-eared humour, migraine-inducing surrealism and chaotically-edited, emotionless brutality. Despite the best efforts of a game, if stiff, cast, the once-promising director drags this project through the sordid muck and grime every chance he gets, producing an excruciatingly ugly exercise in banal cruelty without momentum or a glimmer of intelligence. Halloween II proves that even the formidable Michael Myers is no match for a crazed Zombie.

2) SORORITY ROW I personally guarantee that viewing this mean-spirited slasher picture will leave you desiring a shower well before the drawn-out, tawdry conclusion. Director Stewart Hendler has created a truly hateful, sleazy slice of nasty misogyny with Sorority Row, a mind-numbing murder mystery featuring a band of repulsive, racist, venom-tongued, alcoholic super-sluts attempting to figure out the identity of a cloaked, tire-iron-wielding executioner. Making up his female cast like Hastings Street hookers and eagerly searching for new methods of degrading them, the pervy helmer ignores building intensity or terror in favour of killing their dignities on-screen in as gruesome a fashion as possible.

3) THE UNBORN Intended to be a Jewish variation of The Exorcist, the relentlessly dour and dull The Unborn, written and directed by David S. Goyer, feels like a potpourri of out-dated, recycled ideas. Creepy-crawly bugs? Check. Spooky, wide-eyed children? Check. Nightmarish nocturnal visions of sinister animals? Check. Twitching, sputtering victims of demonic possession? Check. A frequently underwear-clad young woman (possible Real Doll© Odette Yustman) with a mysterious past? You know it. The fact that none of these venerable-if-ill-fitting elements add up to a single memorable moment of genuine fright? Now, THAT’S scary!

4) GAMER Not content to stick to their absurd Crank franchise, creative duo Neveldine/Taylor instead turned their ADD-riddled attentions to this fractured and thin attempt at social commentary, which would be laughable if it weren’t so damn grating. Pulling from their now-tired bag of tricks – which includes random blasts of graphic sex and nudity, dripping gore, epilepsy-triggering action, and general perversity – the directorial dunderheads attempt to viciously criticize their general fan-base while alternately following the adventures of Gerard Butler’s character, a prisoner taking part in a real-life video-game. Light on excitement and fun, long on deafening obnoxiousness, Gamer’s plug should have been pulled during the script-phase.

5) UNDERWORLD: RISE OF THE LYCANS A stale prequel to 2003’s clunky vampires vs. werewolves smack-down extravaganza Underworld, Rise of the Lycans attempts to mine dramatic gold from the Jesus Christ-like sufferings of wolf-leader Lucian (a pay-check cashing Michael Sheen), but draws only snores and the listless eye-rolls. Seemingly shot on a single, small, under-dressed soundstage, the film is a tacky-looking, talky supernatural groaner that forsakes any attempts at creativity in favour of half-heartedly aping Spartacus, Gladiator and Braveheart. By the way: that sucking noise you hear isn’t coming from the movie’s vampires. Nope, it’s the sound of Screen Gems pictures draining every last possible cent from their insipid flat-lining franchise.

6) NINJA ASSASSIN Following the release of 2005’s sophisticated and thrilling V for Vendetta, director James McTeigue looked like a rising star to be reckoned with; a virtuoso talent with genuine action chops and a flair for epic dramatic storytelling. However, after enduring his sophomore effort Ninja Assassin, I think we may need to start re-evaluating our expectations. By attaching his once-respectable name to such an irritatingly humourless, inert martial arts pot-boiler, populated by stony one-dimensional characters engaging in drearily incomprehensible CG-addled fight scenes, McTeigue has committed what can only be described as film career seppuku.

7) STREET FIGHTER: THE LEGEND OF CHUN-LI It takes a pretty major debacle to make 1994’s Jean-Claude Van Damme-led Street Fighter: The Movie look good by comparison, but "The Legend of Chun-Li" does just that. Starring Smallville’s Kristin Kreuk as the titular Chinese(!) ass-kicker, the film pilfers most of its key scenes and crucial plot-points from Christopher Nolan’s Batman Begins, but strips them of technique and emotional resonance. Filled with unintentionally comic dialogue, robotic acting – minus Chris Klein’s side-splittingly atrocious performance as swaggering cop Charlie Nash – and wooden martial arts battles, this second Street Fighter is yet another sluggish video-game adaptation in desperate need of a creative power-up.

8) OBSESSED The biggest sin committed by this trashy hit is that it completely misunderstands the appeal of its inspiration Fatal Attraction. By removing all moral greyness and egotism from male lead Idris Elba, we’re left with a soppy victimized nonentity, devoid of complexity, guilt or inner-conflict, forced to sit impotently on the sidelines while his no-nonsense lioness wife (Beyonce Knowles) heroically saves him - through gloriously campy cat-fight fisticuffs – from sultry, 95-pound stalker Ali Larter. Director Steve Shill also eradicates all erotic charge from the lurid premise, making Obsessed feel as limp as its emasculated protagonist.

9) YEAR ONE Is there anything funnier than seeing Michael Cera and Jack Black stand listlessly around in animal-print loin clothes? Not in Year One, that’s for sure. Apparently written over a weekend by The Office scribes Gene Stupnitsky and Lee Eisenberg, along with director Harold Ramis, the flick feels like an inane artefact of the early 80s; an expensive, high-concept comedicus stupidicus boasting a hard-working, but visibly mortified, cast of improv all-stars (Hank Azaria, Oliver Platt and David Cross, to name a few) frantically attempting to draw the audience’s attention away from their silly costumes. Fortunately, with this pathetic, laugh-free clinker stumbling at the box-office, any chances of Year Two occurring are completely extinct...

10) X-MEN ORIGINS: WOLVERINE Yikes, even Wolvie’s enhanced healing powers may be helpless to restore his box-office vitality after the heavy blow dealt by Origins, a clumsy not-so-superhero blockbuster-in-name-only. Costing $150 million, but boasting bargain-basement CG effects, paper-thin supporting mutants and a script comprised of plot-holes so gaping that the X-Jet could soar through them, the Clawed One’s first solo adventure was so hopelessly bungled that it’ll take more than an amnesia bullet to wipe its crappiness from movie-goers’ minds.

Dishonorable Mentions: NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM: BATTLE OF THE SMITHSONIAN, SURVEILLANCE, NEW IN TOWN, THE FINAL DESTINATION, OBSERVE AND REPORT, THE LOVELY BONES, COUPLE RETREAT.

The Best Films of 2009!

It seems somewhat crazy in retrospect, but, sitting at the tail end of last year – a period which produced some of the most noteworthy films of the decade - the approaching movie year of 2009 was awaited by many with a combination of trepidation and ambivalence. We were warned for months prior that, due to the lingering after effects of the WGA strike, there would be bombarded with a considerable amount of shoddily-written tent-poles and hastily-assembled projects green-lit solely to fulfill the economic needs of the business.
Indeed, there was definite cause for concern.

However, though there were certainly a few clumsy high-profile black marks (such as X-Men Origins: Wolverine, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen and Year One), 2009 proved, intriguingly, to be the anti-hype year, with the majority of the best film-going experiences thriving on the buzz of discovery, as opposed to pre-sold satisfaction. While massively-marketed blockbusters (like Terminator: Salvation and Angels and Demons) and prestige awards-bait (Nine, Invictus, The Lovely Bones and The Informant!, to name a few) disappointed, startling word-of-mouth hits such as District 9, Inglourious Basterds, Precious, Paranormal Activity and Star Trek (A project which, prior to release, seemed destined to underperform) thrilled and moved ticket-buyers the world over.

Looking over my list, I’m inspired by the staggering originality and craftsmanship of the films on it, and I treasure the unforgettable trips each and every one took me on. These ten – and the honorable mentions, of course – exemplify the intense excitement and stunning artistry of a wonderfully rich year of movie-watching; an ideal close to an often turbulent cinematic decade.

1) INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS If Death Proof occasionally felt like Quentin Tarantino spinning his wheels, this blood-spattered ode to WWII and the liberating power of cinema is like a baseball bat to the head of mainstream filmmaking; a staggeringly grand-scale-yet-intimate effort that you yearn to dismantle just so you can decipher why its disparate parts fit together so flawlessly. From gripping intro - wherein sadistic Nazi Hans Landa (the chilling Christoph Waltz) interrogates a frightened farmer - to nightmarish conclusion, Basterds hums captivatingly along like a brutal, witty, well-oiled machine. Movies this breathtaking, innovation and unique are a dearly treasured rarity, and I’m indescribably thankful to know that – sixteen years in – Tarantino still has enough fight left in him to continue to shock and awe anyone who buys a ticket.

2) THE HURT LOCKER Appearing like an oasis in a sea of bloated political polemics, The Hurt Locker succeeds triumphantly by eschewing the hot-button issues almost entirely. Rather, in drawing us into the white-knuckle day-to-day life of Ssgt. William James (Jeremy Renner in a star-making performance), an adrenaline junkie tasked with defusing bombs in war-torn Iraq, director Kathryn Bigelow adroitly provides a nail-bitingly suspenseful you-are-there experience which, true to the movie’s “War is a Drug” tagline, leaves you feeling shaken and buzzed, yet fixing for more.

3) A SERIOUS MAN Of the numerous original characters that emerged in 2009, none were quite as tragically unforgettable as Larry Gopnik (Michael Stuhlbarg), the beat-down Jewish physics professor battling to escape a suffocating hell of personal, professional and existential crises. Wearing a frazzled expression of woeful hope and, alternately, impotent dread, the bespectacled Larry’s blackly comic descent into damnation provides the bitter center to the Coen Brothers’ challenging and often deeply unsettling 60s-set absurdist odyssey. Utterly uncompromising, A Serious Man is a tantalizing cinematic enigma that attaches itself to your brain and refuses to let go. No matter how nicely you ask it.

4) UP Following in the rusty tread-marks of Wall-E, Pixar’s tenth feature-length slice of animated delight once again proved the studio to be the utmost crafters of emotionally-devastating first acts in the business, with a heart-rending, dialogue-free recap of the romantic life of Carl and Ellie Fredrickson leaving many – myself included – moist-eyed and sniffling. Luckily, Pete Docter’s Up manages to hold its course for the entire duration, shifting from thrilling adventures, to sincerity and broad comedy as buoyantly as Carl’s magnificently soaring home.

5) ADVENTURELAND Criminally under-seen during its release, writer/director Greg Mottola’s lovable amusement park coming-of-age tale deserves recognition alongside the life-affirming works of inspiration Cameron Crowe. A touching tribute to the lazy summer days and nights of low-wage employment, Adventureland, with its marvellous cast - including Jesse Eisenberg, Kristen Stewart and Ryan Reynolds - and impeccable soundtrack, lulls you into a blissful state of nostalgic joy, where even the raunchiest laughs speak to a recognizable truth. This is a movie you want to hug and treasure; a tender reminder of time gone by and of those balmy, enchanted evenings when the mysteries of the cosmos could almost be unlocked by a bright smile or an adoring gaze.

6) HARRY POTTER & THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE Silly me, I was becoming convinced that Harry Potter was beginning to run out of magic dust, following the rather lacklustre Order of the Phoenix. So it now feels pretty terrific to be eating crow, as this summer’s Half-Blood Prince proved to be the very finest of the cinematic literary adaptations. Directed with a true storyteller’s zeal by David Yates, and featuring stunning cinematography and a crackerjack performance by Jim Broadbent, the world of Hogwarts has never been as exciting, perilous or sublimely gorgeous as it is here.

7) FANTASTIC MR. FOX After a string of lukewarm disappointments, it was a dazzling, hysterical treat to witness hipster auteur Wes Anderson rediscover the beauty of his own idiosyncratic cinematic language through stop-motion technology and the sneaky, miraculous spirit of Roald Dahl. In detailing how George Clooney’s wily animal thief extraordinaire leads a trio of callous farmers on a wild goose chase, the gifted director delivers a sumptuously detailed visual banquet of a fable, replete with sharp ironic zingers, warmth and – evidenced best during a poignant encounter with a majestic lone wolf – unadulterated, entrancing wonder.

8) UP IN THE AIR Jason Reitman’s revelatory third effort – a standout in a weak year for studio-produced prestige projects - is a refreshingly adult meditation on the complexities of human connection and corporate culture. Riding confidently on the broad shoulders of George Clooney’s Ryan Bingham, a travelling professional free of personal ties, who takes on a naive protégé (Anna Kendrick) and begins a playful relationship with a similarly-spirited mystery woman (Vera Farmiga), Up in the Air expertly walks a fine line between cynism and optimism, offering plenty of truthfulness and good-natured humour. It further proves that wunderkind Reitman may just be his generation’s answer to Billy Wilder.

9) STAR TREK Jubilantly breaking free from forty years of suffocating continuity, J.J. Abrams whizz-bang reboot of Gene Roddenberry’s iconic science-fiction universe is a truly astonishing sight to behold. Soaring higher than it has in eons, this Enterprise – now staffed by a brilliantly cast new crew of space voyagers, led by the ultra-charismatic Chris Pine – takes audiences on an exhilarating and massively entertaining flight into the heart of popcorn blockbuster nirvana. Now, with a rejuvenated life-force and infinite opportunities ahead, Star Trek’s future has never been brighter.

10) DRAG ME TO HELL Francois Truffaut’s oft-quoted statement on the filmic medium was that “cinema should express either the joy of making cinema or the anguish of making cinema”. Well sir, Sam Raimi’s return to the spook-a-blast genre of his youth falls, goofy and grinning ear-to-ear, into the former; a slime-soaked tribute to the gloriously bonkers world of gypsy curses, moonlit séances and cackling possessed farm-stock. Aided by on-screen co-conspirator Alison Lohman - a good sport if ever there was one – the director unleashes one of the decade’s greatest fright-fest extravaganzas, a goofball exploration of the macabre that delivers jack-in-the-box scares with irresistibly impish glee.

Honorable Mentions: BROTHERS, (500) DAYS OF SUMMER, MOON, THE BAD LIEUTENANT: PORT OF CALL NEW ORLEANS, PRECIOUS, WATCHMEN, SUMMER HOURS (L'heure d'été), AN EDUCATION, THE GIRLFRIEND EXPERIENCE, PUBLIC ENEMIES.

Film Review - YOUTH IN REVOLT

Michael Cera was born to play a character named Nick Twisp. With his unabashedly earnest demeanour, dark, frightened rabbit eyes and graceless, lanky frame - which frequently seems to be trying to burrow within itself – the star has shown a masterful knack for portraying sheltered, neurotic adolescents longing to break out of their awkward shells, but lacking the resolve to overcome their own self-imposed strict moral and emotional boundaries. It’s a winning schtick that has served him very, very well, in comedies ranging from terrific (Superbad, Juno, TV’s Arrested Development) to unbearable (Year One, Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist), and more or less carries Youth in Revolt, a reasonably entertaining adaptation of C.D. Payne’s absurdist novel.

When we first meet Youth’s put-upon protagonist, he’s a sensitive, V-card carrying soul, enamoured with Frank Sinatra music and art-house cinema, living in an insufferable household presided over by his strumpet mother Estelle (Jean Smart) and her pathological liar boyfriend Jerry (Zach Galifianakis). Invisible to his female classmates, forlorn Nick finds his life fortuitously turned upside-down when, during an abrupt family lake-side vacation, he meets the beautiful Sheeni Saunders (Portia Doubleday – walking the thin line between innocent and erotic as tantalizingly as if starring in a Lolita remake), a fellow frustrated teen desperate for companionship. However, when the Twisp clan decides to return home, placing the two not-quite-lovers’ union on excruciating hold, the dejected Nick devises a labyrinthine scheme to reunite with the object of his unbridled infatuation.

Inspired by the flamboyant bad boys of new wave cinema, our wishy-washy hero creates a moustachioed nogoodnik alter ego dubbed Francois Dillinger (who alternately looks to have escaped from the Beastie Boys’ “Sabotage” video), a foul-mouthed anarchist bent on destruction and manipulation in the name of sexual conquest. After one of the doppelganger’s chaotic acts results in arson, Nick, a wanted man, retreats back to his vacation destination, underachieving father George (the oh-so invaluable Steve Buscemi) and 25-year-old trophy girlfriend Lacey (Ari Graynor) in tow, with the intent of continuing his romance with Sheeni – a plan which promptly crumbles when he discovers that she has been sent away to boarding school. So, with Francois once more off-the-leash and running wild, Nick sets out on a single-minded quest to win Sheeni’s hand anew, regardless of laws and consequences.

This feverishly hormonal split-personality odyssey gives Youth in Revolt its novel spark. Although Cera can still effortlessly draw laughs by gawkily muttering verbose non sequitors or attempting to save face when any chance for preserving dignity is long past, his bold portrayal of Francois reveals previously unwitnessed dimensions to the actor. Hiding behind an ever-present cigarette, blue contacts, and tight-fighting wardrobe, and speaking in an octave or two lower than his usual gentle pitch, Cera projects a convincingly monstrous id; a hilariously comedic study in unflappable self-assurance in the face of conscience, logic and reason. He’s a fun creation – one the film would have been better-served utilizing more of – and, when contrasted against wimpy Nick Twisp, there’s genuinely sharp chemistry. It’s one of the better examples of an actor playing duelling roles in recent memory.

It’s too bad that the movie, directed by Miguel Arteta, isn’t working on the same elevated level. Despite being only 90 minutes long, Youth in Revolt’s pace has an unfortunate tendency to flag during the increasingly scattered, overly wacky latter sections. This problem is an inherent flaw in the script by Gustin Nash, which, in attempting to distil Payne’s 500+ page book, often short-changes characters, such as Jade Fusco’s Bernice Lynch, Buscemi’s Twisp Senior and Graynor’s impulsive Lacey, who feel set up for far more than they ultimately pay off. Most grating, though, are the prominent animated segments that, besides not being remotely amusing, feel precious and obnoxious; a thin attempt at drawing in the hipster crowd.

Luckily, even with the obvious under-writing and condensing, the film’s star-packed cast often matches Cera’s strong work, and help to ease out the narrative bumps and diversions. Adhir Kalyan, playing Nick’s new high school friend, almost steals the show entirely during a road-trip section – easily the flick’s strongest detour - where the duo crashes Sheeni’s French-Only boarding school. Equally effective, in smaller roles, are Ray Liotta as a cop with lusty eyes for Mrs. Twisp and Fred Willard, who earns the film’s single biggest laugh, as a nutty, uber-liberal neighbour.

Youth in Revolt is a fairly typical January release; an amiable and breezy watch, with some enjoyable turns, which will probably play better on a lazy night in front of the idiot box than in the multiplex. Although the movie is loaded with the expected sexual innuendos and vulgar language, the tone feels too safe and restrained, reluctant to truly explore the darker avenues that its hero recklessly wanders down. Frankly, I wish Arteta had spent less time trying to emulate genial ol’ Nick and more time embracing his own inner-Francois. 

3 out of 5

*Originally printed in SFU's The Peak: Jan 18th, 2010.

Epi-Cast: Episode 21 - "(Listen to the) Blue Cat People"

Bah, they say 3-D technology is the future of entertainment. We say bull-pucky! Can 3-D offer you up to 90 minutes of lobe-pleasing film discussion with just a hint of madness? The type of discourse that opens up a metaphorical tin of new movies, peeks inside and then rambles on about the contents until the cows come home? I think not. Face it bunky, the Epi-Cast IS entertainment, and nothing will ever be able to change that.

...Other than a strategically placed bomb.

...Or a crashed hard-drive...

Epi-Cast: Episode 21 - "(Listen to the) Blue Cat People"

Cam and Tom ring in 2010 - the year we make contact - in fitting style, putting on dorky glasses and determining whether James Cameron's Avatar is the greatest film to ever grace the screen (Hint: not even close!). They also momentarily turn away from the flash and bang to contemplate just how good Jason Reitman's latest, Up in the Air, is (Hint: Very!). As well, Cam tosses his thoughts on Sherlock Holmes, Nine and The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus into the black void of the internet while Tom battles to maintain his stoic composure while kicking around Terminator: Salvation and Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Plus, as a very special treat, the dunce-tastic duo name their five favourite films of the recently passed decade (Hint: Unpredictability abounds!). So strap on your hover-board, pop your mp3 player into the direct feed link behind your right ear and enjoy the hilarity!

To download, simply right-click and save on the green episode title above. Then you are free to indulge in one of the interweb's very finest wonders.

P.S. We are also available on iTunes! We kid you not! Simply do a store search for "Epi-Cast" and, OINGO-BOINGO!, you can subscribe to our feed and receive insta-dl's (Net speak for downloads). Oh, and we are the "Epi-Cast", not the "Epicast". Avoid those pretentious fools like a pack of flesh-consuming grackels.