A HULKing Lack of Inspiration

Hey kids, it’s me, Uncle Cam, returning from my schoolwork-imposed exile! While I've been toiling away on scintillating essays on Chaucer, Shakespeare and Virgil, mucho movie stuff has been going on, uncommented on by yours truly. Why, we've seen the release of the brilliant Iron Man, Indiana Jones and Dark Knight trailers, as well as the release of The Hottie and the Nottie! Well, no more shall these important global events go unrecognized, which is why I feel compelled to escape my studies to comment on the newest bit of studio-produced hype: the trailer for The Incredible Hulk!!!

Now, I have made some disparaging comments about this little indie film in the past. I expressed my lack of confidence in the choice of Transporter director Louis Leterrier. As well, I ruminated on the necessity of making a follow-up/reimagining to/of a film that was mostly disliked by comic-fans and hated by the general public. Sure there are exceptions, but for the most part the Ang Lee directed Hulk is viewed as a boring misinterpretation of a classic character with cheesy effects and an unnecessary obsession with Freudian subtext. Oh, and stupid mutant dogs.

This overwhelming annoyance with the "franchise" made a follow-up a risky notion. So, I have to congratulate Marvel and Universal for having the guts to sign on for a 130-million dollar reinvention. That said, one has to wonder about the decision to keep this movie so quiet that no one outside of the fanatical has any idea it’ll be dropping into theatres this summer. While The Dark Knight, Iron Man and Hellboy 2 have been raising awareness throughout the year, building ravenous anticipation, The Incredible Hulk has just been plodding along, seemingly oblivious of the necessity to raise any sense of excitement or awareness. Well, good on them! Sure they put out a bunch of glossy and semi-nifty screen shots, but let’s face it, no one really noticed (or cared). But that time is over, and the marketing brainiacs have stewed up a colossal, bloated CG-crammed monstrosity of a trailer to plug the collective film-going arteries.

View it here:


So, how does it go down?

You know how McDonalds always has photos of magnificent looking hamburgers on their menu wall that when you get them, they look like they were acting as seat cushions for the Grimace? That's The Incredible Hulk trailer in a nutshell. When viewed in screenshots this thing looked promising, but when actually delivered it makes you want to give up solids. Well, almost.

Let's start from the opening, cuz it’s a doozy. We are introduced to the tormented Dr. Bruce Banner (Edward Norton) as he sits in a darkened room, facing a male friend... in front of a roaring fireplace, talking about his "personality problems". Now, I don't know about you, but the duo's locked eye contact and the setting, taken from one of those "Romantic Hits of the 60's" infomercials, gives off a seriously unintentional (?) homo-erotic vibe. I mean, come on! How many guys invite friends over to sit in front of the fire, with all the house's lights turned off??? Stylistic decisions aside, it's never good when a movie trailer like this starts off with bad, ironic laughs.

Anyhoo, what happens next? Well, if I didn't have an understanding of the movie's storyline I wouldn't be able to tell you. Edward Norton appears to be in trouble with the army... And running a lot... And talking in a bland monotone... Oh, and Tim Roth and Liv Tyler keep showing up and not saying anything... What the? Why is Norton jumping out of a helicopter??? Why is Mr. Orange getting stabbed with needles??? What the hell is that??? Wait, what the?... Bah, I'm tired. I'm gonna go watch Everybody Loves Raymond.

But seriously, there is no narrative logic, or true storyline (beyond a vaguely rudimentary sketch) in the content of the trailer. I'll fill you in, though. Liv Tyler is taking over for Jennifer Connelly, playing Banner's love interest Betty Ross, who is also daughter to General "Thunderbolt" Ross (William Hurt - Laughing his way to the bank! - Pictured left). The General wants Banner's DNA secrets for the military. Old Tim Roth, on the other hand, is Emil Bronsky, a Russian spy, who gets injected with Hulk-errific serum and becomes the poorly realized CG-menace, Abomination, shown arbitrarily at the end of the trailer. Banner then must deal with his inner-Hulkness and man up and go save the day. While this is a potentially compelling story, there's no dramatic interest from any of these people here (Other than Norton), and indeed no dialogue from anyone other than the star, save for a single Hurt-driven expositional utterance in the trailer! So, since there is not a single human emotion on display, let’s focus on the Abomination and Hulk himself.

Now, I realize this movie is still over three months from release, but boy do these two CG creations look crappy. Abomination (Pictured right), which interestingly bears zero resemblance to Tim Roth, is borderline embarrassing. His design is okay, in that it is basically just a more organic and solid looking Spidey 3 Sandman copycat, but he has all the weight and charisma of a screensaver. The same goes for the Hulk, who looks half-decent... Until he moves. Then, he becomes a glowing, pixellated cartoon. Both characters have zero screen presence, thus packing all the dramatic power of a PS3 cut scene. Their dramatic clash at the end is so underwhelming that it will likely inspire collective indifference from the masses. It's really sad when the whole selling point of your superhero movie looks about as convincing as Shrek the Third. As well, I have dire suspicions that the specific reason the filmmakers chose to film this whole epic clash of the polygons in pitch darkness was as a desperate attempt to obscure their obviously shaky efforts. Call it Godzilla '98 syndrome.

So, now that I've bitched on this long about a two minute trailer, am I still going to slap down my ten bucks on June 13th? Well, I paid to see Elektra and Ghost Rider, didn't I? Despite my unhinged ranting, I'm actually an optimistic person. A bad trailer does not necessarily equate a bad movie, and vice versa. Heck, I loved the Transformers trailer and look at how that turned out! I hope Norton and crew pull it off and impress the hell out of me. I'll give them a glowing review on here and go door-to-door raising awareness of Hulk! But, on the basis of this supremely lame effort I now have to place The Incredible Hulk in the "Potential Flops" category for summer '08. Oh well, at least Speed Racer and The Love Guru can keep it company.


Wow, that was exhaustive! And soon to be redundant... Oh well, come on back soon, I'll have a review of the upcoming Rhona Mitra post-apocalyptic trashfest (Potentially in a good way!) Doomsday by Wednesday. As well, my now pointless "Best of '07" List.

See ya then.

Film Review: RAMBO - His Hell Is Our Playground.

How does one review a movie like Rambo? It is a blood-soaked, brutal exercise in pain, sadism, and aggression without a hint of irony. To say that it does it better than almost any action film I've seen is almost beside the point. It takes the violent stakes set by First Blood Part II and Rambo III and decapitates them with Panzer tank shells. So, let's start with a look at the Rambo legacy, as it were.

I was fortunate enough to attend the 7+ hour Rambo Marathon at the Scotiabank theatre in lovely downtown Vancouver yesterday evening, where I revisited the entire saga. It's curious the way the series started, with the sad, and dare I say gentle, First Blood. With its meagre kill count of 1, First Blood was a psychological study in thriller trappings. Sure there are some explosions and gun-fights, but ultimately it is a study in one tormented man's personal demons and inability to fit into human society. It's almost comical how Rambo: First Blood Part II takes him to Vietnam and has him wipeout an entire generation of Viet-Cong. It seemingly goes against everything the first film was saying, and embraces the type of gloss that the age of excess demanded. Rambo III is so far over the top that it becomes a droll study in overkill. A fun one, to be sure, but so far removed from its humble beginnings that it's bizarre. After re-reviewing them, however, it is important to note that they are all consistently enjoyable films with nicely understated work by Stallone, and brilliant technical efficiency. So, how does the newest film fit into the established world of John Rambo?

Well, Rambo is, without any doubt, the goriest and most stomach-churning of them all. It also, on the flip side, restores the sadness so well exemplified in the series' first entry. John Rambo is a man constantly in pain whose only ability is to stop evil through sheer, relentless savagery. He's the anti-John McClane. No sneaking around air-shafts for this guy.

Rambo opens with news reel footage of the human rights atrocities in Burma, where the Karen Christians have been systematically slaughtered over the last sixty year (The longest civil war in history!). This real-life touch is both staggering and problematic. The previous Rambo sequels, while they did make use of current political situations, were always in some sort of heightened reality. This opening grounds the film in the real. We then witness the horrific massacre of a tribe of villagers by the Burmese military, and it is stunning. Director Stallone lingers over the violence, making us witness the unspeakable. It is, frankly, shocking.

The basic plot then kicks in. Rambo has been living in Thailand as a snake-wrangler for the last twenty or so years. He is found by a group of Christian relief workers (led by Julie Benz (left with Stallone) and Paul Schulze), and they plead with him to drive them by boat into war-torn Burma so they can aid the suffering. After some coaxing by Benz, he begrudgingly agrees and takes them over. Before you can say "Ballistic Carnage", the group are captured (and also their entire village gruesomely raped/decapitated/torched/shot/exploded/ vivisected/gutted/severed/you get the picture). Back at Rambo's home (and by home I mean hammock), a priest comes and pleads with Rambo to take a group of Church-paid mercenaries to the relief workers' destination so they can extract the workers and get them home. After a soul-searching montage, Rambo suits up and leads the team into action. Much vivid butchery follows.

What I really liked about Rambo was the simplicity of it. It's much like last year's Rocky Balboa, in that it is a lean 90-minute piece with a minimum of plot that relies on the mythic essence of the title character. The plot is a clothes-line and while in many other films that is a major problem, here it is to the films benefit. The characters are mainly archetypes with a minimum of detail, and the villains are mostly faceless. I appreciated the ways in which the mercenaries are sketched out. We know next to nothing about them, other than a few passing bits we get through behaviour. It makes sense. Hired mercenaries are men who thrive on secrecy. They don't communicate with each other more than what is necessary. Much like Rambo himself. As played by the 61-year-old Stallone, he has settled into a nice quiet gruffness which is perfectly suited to the material. Stallone is without question a limited actor, but he is under-appreciated in the ways he can create an internalized character and communicate everything through silence and eye gestures. He plays John Rambo as well here as he did in '82 with First Blood.

As for the action, it is numbing. The human atrocities presented here make the gruesome material of Schindler's List look like gentle ribbing. The villain's are so far past monster status that it is almost uncomfortable. In a sense, by immersing the viewer in their deeds we begin to better understand the psyche of John Rambo. He has witnessed horrors so severe that he has emotionally shut down and lost touch with humanity. Well, after witnessing what the villains do here we share that mindset. The world is an ugly place and sometimes violence is necessary. Whether you agree with the message or not, Stallone makes his message clear and concise. We are so filled with disgust that we want to see Rambo decimate this group beyond reason. The final firefight, which surely is a nod to The Wild Bunch, is roughly twenty minutes of grisly catharsis. Disgusting or not, it delivers exactly what one hopes for after the momentous killing sprees of Rambo's 2 & 3. The ending is a brief downbeat nod to the first film that leaves us with a poetic sense of relief after the exhausting visceral experience we've just undergone.

Many will hate Rambo for being such a blatantly sadistic (and obvious) exercise in brutality. But, it is exactly what it has been marketed and intended to be. That it does it so well is nothing short of commendable after years of PG-13 action-lite extravaganzas. Sylvester Stallone has crafted a mean little film that, while it will never get much critical respect, is a relentlessly pure experience that leaves you breathless and numb by the end. To enjoy it is almost not an option. It is meant to be endured, and I can't help but thank Stallone for creating an action-film that actually made me feel something. It's a fitting end for John Rambo, and a film-going experience I won't soon forget.

4 out of 5

P.S.: While it is odd to have Rambo follow Rambo III, the title fits
the film. It's simple and hard-hitting. Again, much like Rambo himself.

P.P.S.: Richard Crenna's presence is missed, but doesn't detract from the film. Something tells me that even Trautman would have been throwing up his hands halfway through events of this film.

R.I.P. Heath Ledger (1979-2008)

I don't usually write up obits for celebrities who pass on, but this one struck me surprisingly hard. Maybe it's because we're basically the same age, or perhaps because I've followed him from the beginning of his career to now, I'm not sure. Most likely, however, it is because I've watched him transition from clever work in teen-oriented films to full-fledged brilliancy as a character actor and it is a shame to see so much promise disappear so quickly.

I recall seeing Mr. Ledger first in 1999's 10 Things I Hate About You. It was a surprisingly amusing teen comedy in which Ledger stole the show from his cast-mates (With actors like Julia Stiles and Joseph Gordon Levitt, that is actually a pretty mean feat.), and could have easily coasted through the rest of his career doing the heart throb stuff. But that was too simple.

His role opposite Mel Gibson in The Patriot hinted that he could very well have the same career as his older co-star. Like Gibson, he was an electric performer who chose to play down his sex appeal in favour of more character-based work. A Knight's Tale was a fun jaunt, that dared to try something different with the genre, and not follow conventions, and his performance in Monster's Ball was darkly heartbreaking.

While he hit a bit of a slump in the early '00's, 2005 signalled the emergence of a full-formed professional with the potential of a young De Niro or Day-Lewis. He was far and away the best thing in Terry Gilliam's The Brother's Grimm, and achieved a career high with his Oscar-nominated performance in Brokeback Mountain. The ways in which he altered his voice and mannerisms were stunning, and he ultimately is the reason the film is the masterpiece it is. He is the heart of the film, and there was no reason to not expect an amazing career to follow. I used to like to think the reason he didn't win the Oscar was because the Academy had faith he'd be back.

This was likely the year that he would have hit the big time. The Dark Knight is tracking as the most anticipated film of the year, and that is about 99% (with a 1% margin of error) due to his shocking transformation into the Joker. I just hope he took some comfort in knowing that, despite all early objections, the fans were truly excited and behind him, as he looks to have created a terrifying performance (Not to mention a definitive Clown Prince of Crime) that will be long held in the annals of great on-screen villainy.

He was an exciting actor in a time where there is little to no mystery left in our assorted cardboard superstars. I was always eager to see where he was going to go next because I knew it wouldn't be what I expected. Allas, another great talent has burned out too soon, leaving a sense of frustration for what might have been... But I'd just like to thank him for what he accomplished while he was here. May his family find peace, and may he live on forever in the wonderful films he made.

Oh Wow! An Update! Cam's Worst of 2007!

Hey there you few, who still bother wandering over to this neglected avenue of cyberspace. It hasn't been a great year for my blog, other than an unexpected mention on CBS news online, but I'm aiming to get her back on track. This upcoming semester will hopefully allow me more time to write, and hopefully get quoted again somewhere legit. I do strongly appreciate all you Gerard Butler webmasters who quoted my article on the now aborted Escape From New York project, though. Recognition always helps to grease the creative wheels and y'all were no exception to that rule.

But let's get to it! So, this was not a spectacular year for movies. There were a lot of films that failed to meet audience expectations (Shrek The Third, Pirates 3, Spider-Man 3), and many that dwelled in mediocrity (Pathfinder, Shooter, Ghost Rider). These types of films haven't made my list, as they are either too blandly forgettable or lamely underwhelming to earn the sort of hatred that earns a place on my "Worst Of" list. Rather, I'm focussing on the movie-going experiences that left me angry and frustrated. The movies that provided hours of ranting conversations with friends over how truly awful and insulting they were. Films that don't deserve to be called films.

Before we begin I have to mention that I didn't see a number of the truly dreadful offerings to be ejected from the bowels of Hollywood this year. So, don't be expecting my thoughts on junk like Norbit, I Know Who Killed Me, Epic Movie, Good Luck Chuck or I Now Pronounce You Chuck And Larry. Haven't seen them. Plus, how much fun is it to put them on a list when they seem to have been made for that very purpose. As well, I also have yet to see a couple of the truly dismal disappointments like Rob Zombie's Halloween or Aliens Vs. Predator: Requiem, and thus can't provide any insight there. No, this list focuses on five films which I went into with an open-mind and was ejected from the theatre/couch bitter and resentful. Without any more long-winded adieu, here comes the pain.

5) Transformers
A couple months before its release it had all the appearances of the most awe-inspiring, badass spectacle of the summer. I lined up for an hour to see it, psyched for a couple of hours of the type of action-packed wonder that only Hollywood can produce. Instead I was force-fed a cynical, wit-starved, behemoth of ugliness which joins fellow inductees Godzilla and Armageddon in underlining the worst that crass commercial filmmaking can create.

It's not only the insultingly lousy storyline and one-note characters that torment me however; it's the lack of joy and wonder. Every event in the film is perfunctory and uninspired. From endlessly dull fight scenes to lowest-common denominator comedy, Transformers left me feeling pissed off and a bit sad. Do people realize how much they are being ripped off with junk like this? Blockbusters were once marriages of wonderful storytelling and effects. Now, they are bombastic CG-reels that strip away the humanity of the whole experience. Films like this lead me to wonder if robots are behind the camera as well...

4) Wild Hogs
What happens if you make a comedy without a single laugh? Does it become a fascinating portrait of actors valiantly struggling with horrific material, or at least an intriguing train wreck? Turns out in this case the answer is neither. Wild Hogs is the most uncomfortable film experience of the year, a dead zone of audience pandering, ineptly staged hilarity, and forced performances that makes one's skin crawl.

It takes really bad talent to strip away the collective onscreen charisma of John Travolta, Martin Lawrence, Tim Allen and William H. Macy, but director Walt Becker manages the near impossible. Each actor, with special attention on Travolta, is something of an unlikable parody of their usual personas, and the effect is off-putting to say the least. There were lots of terrible comedies this year, but only this one had me frequently glancing at the countdown timer on the DVD player in exhausted frustration.

3) War
I would love to meet the rocket scientist who came up with the brilliant notion of creating an action movie around a feuding Jet Li and Jason Statham in which the two never really duke it out. Instead said genius attempted to wow the audience with an extremely tired mob story coupled with a laughably pathetic twist ending.

War is the rare instance of a modern action movie not understanding its own selling point. At least Transformers had giant robots. So, instead of an empty kinetic thrill, we get a curiously plodding cop/gangster drama with unimaginative martial arts scenes and frantic pursuits thrown in. The car "chase" in particular is hilarious in how poorly it is staged and edited. Statham, a once bright rising star in the action universe, is boring and one-dimensional and Li is just plain wasted. I never thought I'd grow nostalgic for The Transporter or Cradle 2 The Grave, but here we are.

2) Hannibal Rising
This was almost number one! Only through serious soul-searching did I come to the final decision to push this toothless cannibal thriller down to second place. It is amazing how badly this production manages to render one of the most fascinating on-screen villains of all time boring. Credit must go to young Gaspard Ulliel who is either a terrible actor or an extra who wandered onto the wrong set. He takes Anthony Hopkins quiet menace and turns it into whiny, emo foppishness.

The screenplay doesn't do Ulliel any favours, it must be said, as Hannibal's revenge quest in never anything other than campy. Rhys Ifans, as the chief villain, is often hilariously over-the-top and a stunning contrast to Ulliel's one-note flatness. Despite a promising Ulliel-free opening, we are treated to a dull two hours punctuated by bad laughs. I particularly enjoyed Hannibal's first encounter with his infamous restraining mask, as well as Gong Li's immortal line: "Memories are like a knife. They can hurt you." Indeed, and so can films like this on your resume.

1) The Number 23
I actually went into this one by coincidence. We couldn't get into the advance showing of Shooter, and Zodiac wasn't going to start for another hour, so this was our punishment. I think Jim Carrey is the tops. I've liked almost everything he's done. This one, however, was a truly stunning horror of a film in which every decision made was evidently wrong.

It's rare to see thrillers this poorly scripted and nonsensical not go straight-to-DVD, but I suppose with a pedigree like The Number 23 that wasn't going to happen. Instead, audiences were painfully exposed to a tired looking Carrey going through the motions of a plot that not even Gaspard Ulliel could take seriously. From the bizarre film-noir pieces, to the idiot ending, The Number 23 managed to create a vacuum of poor writing. The Angel of Death dog was a nice capper. I truly believe that a good film could be made on the basis of the number 23 numerological theory, but this film ain't it. With what is left, it is a failure on every conceivable level, and without a doubt the stupidest and most regrettable film-going experience of the year.

So, there it is.


I'll put together my "Best Of" list in the very near future, as soon as I see Juno. Hope you all enjoyed the list... Even the Transformers apologists.

Have a happy New Years!

Film Review: EASTERN PROMISES - Russian See It!

The title of Canadian auteur David Cronenberg's new film Eastern Promises may not sound very familiar to you. In fact, it may very likely sound like something you would go out of your way not to watch. There is a bland, generic sound to the title that is at complete odds with the exciting, challenging and hypnotic work lurking beneath. Yes, folks, we have us a winner and I've been appointed (Never mind by who!) to tell you that you owe it to yourselves to mark this one down on your "To See" lists. And hey, you get to see Aragorn in ways never before imagined (although perhaps fantasized by some...).

Eastern Promises follows a damaged midwife named Anna (the most luminous Naomi Watts), as she attempts to piece together the truth regarding a young girl's death. The girl, track-marked and filthy, dies in childbirth, leaving a healthy baby girl and a diary behind. She soon finds herself inside the Russian restaurant of Semyon (Armin Mueller-Stahl), a seemingly friendly old man, who is overly eager to take the diary off Anna's hands and provide her with a proper translation. Little to her knowing, Semyon is an extremely dangerous mob kingpin, and soon she finds herself involved not only with him, but also his disturbed son Kirill (Seymour Cassel) and stoic, quiet driver Nikolai (Viggo Mortensen). What follows brings dark secrets to light and incidents occur that alter the future of both Anna's family (Made up of her mother and Russian immigrant Uncle), and Semyon's.

I was not someone who was over the moon for Cronenberg's previous critical darling A History Of Violence. I felt that film strayed into Bizzaro-land half way through and never really ended on a satisfying note. Evidently, many disagree. Regardless, Eastern Promises is a completely satisfying cinematic experience. Cronenberg (left)has taken a familiar genre and crafted something personal and stunningly elegant. To be sure, Promises is often stomach-churningly violent, with graphic bodily dismemberment and stabbings, but it is also beautiful to look at. Its dark hues and artistically seedy environments breathe their atmosphere onto the audience. We don't sit by as passive watchers, we feel this world. The credit for this has to go to Cronenberg and cinematographer Peter Suschitzky, who obviously weren't content to just tell a great story (written by Steven Knight) and ignore the visual details.

The tone of the film is also greatly refreshing. It isn't a very long film, but Cronenberg is in no real hurry. Now, maybe I'm alone, but I've found myself increasingly more impressed by films that just take their time and let us spend time with the characters. Eastern Promises does this nicely, and we find ourselves as unwittingly pulled into the violent Russian underworld as Naomi Watt's character. It's seductive really, and a tribute to Cronenberg's faith in his story to just let the events happen without forcing the story ahead.

It's so refreshing to see a movie that tells not only a fascinating story, but fills it with brilliantly accomplished performances. In my last review, for Jodie Foster's The Brave One, I cited her and Terrence Howard's acting over the somewhat generic story. None of that here, thank you. Viggo Mortensen gives a performance that, God willing, should easily place him on the award ballots at the end of the year. His mob driver, Nikolai, is a man of few words who says more through bodily gestures and looks than we initially realize. Mortensen also gives his character a frightening capacity for sudden violence that is stunning. There is a four minute fight scene in a Russian bath where he battles two armed thugs, wearing nothing but a body-ful of tattoos. Many actors would look uncomfortable or get giggles for fighting with their, er, hobbits, on full display, but Mortensen makes it scary and animalistic. He is also brilliantly strong in his scenes with each of the supporting actors. His scenes with Watts, in particular, are captivating in how they communicate the character's buried sensitivity and yearning for this damaged soul who symbolizes a glimmer of purity outside of the abyss he has become entangled in. Frankly, I'll be writing many a letter if Mortensen doesn't get an Oscar nod in the New Year. That's right! Many!

Also insanely award-worthy is Armin Mueller-Stahl. His sternly vicious mob boss Semyon is the most masterfully handled portrayal of this type since Marlon Brando stuffed his mouth full of cotton. Mueller-Stahl (right) wonderfully mixes silent menace and grandfatherly friendliness to create a character we could almost love... If he wasn't such a complete bastard. And while Cassel's and Mortensen's characters handle all the ugly stuff on-screen, it's Mueller-Stahl who disgusts us the most. He's a sick man in a never-ending struggle to maintain his dignity and reputation. He is disappointed beyond belief in his son, but realizes that he is all that is left to carry on his mantle. Mueller-Stahl makes us feel this man's pain and we understand why characters cling to this man's side. Semyon may be a monster, but he is a comforting paternal presence who truly understands what he is doing. It truly is dazzling work.

Naomi Watts is typically strong... Though I'm not sure if she has ever given anything less than A-quality efforts. She will likely be overlooked here, as her character is the entry point for the audience and thus lacks the eccentric flourishes of the other characters. Still, it's another triumph for an actress who is often taken for granted.

Also easy to look past is Vincent Cassel. Cassel (below right) has become such a master of playing sleazy dirtbags that we almost fail to recognize what he brings to this film. His character is the weakest of the central characters, and the one who realizes how lost he is in this world. It's all he knows, yet he is a loose cannon with little hope of ever being able to properly take his father's place. In several scenes, Cassel lets the bravado of the character crack apart and reveal the insecurity and deranged anger within. He's both frightening and pitiful, and Kirill is another worthy addition to the actor's rogues gallery of villains.

It's important to mention that Eastern Promises isn't as idea-packed as some of Cronenberg's previous works. Rather, it's a brilliant genre film as well as an incisive character piece. It gives all the thrills that come with the mobster flick territory, but manages to touch us a little deeper. It's a melancholy gem that is ambiguous and immersive. It's also one of the strongest films of the year.

My only complaint is that I wanted to spend more time with these people. Even if they are bloody and bare-ass naked.

4.5 out of 5

Film Review: THE BRAVE ONE - Jodie's Got A Gun.

What is it about Jodie Foster? She projects fierce intelligence so effortlessly that she can instantly convince me of anything, even if it's something moronic in a film well below her talents. The woman could dress up like a Teletubby and spout nuclear physics and I would never for a second doubt that she was telling anything less than God's honest truth. This plucky inner "Mensa-ness" has carried her well through films brilliant (Silence of the Lambs, Taxi Driver), wonderfully fun (Maverick, Inside Man, Panic Room) and hideously hacky (Flightplan) without ever compromising her appeal and star power. Now, that's the sign of a movie star people.

Dame Foster brings her A-game once more, this time to Neil Jordan's urban vigilante film The Brave One. 'tis the story of a lovably oddball New York radio host (Foster) whose world is shattered when she and her fiance (Naveen Andrews) are viciously attacked by a group of young thugs. She lives, he doesn't, and soon she's getting a serious case of the Bronson's. She buys an illegal handgun and starts baiting criminals to attack her so she can take them out gunslinger style. Soon, her mysterious attacks draw the attention of a morose police officer (Terrence Howard) who, while investigating the case, finds himself entangled with her. Their friendship becomes an interesting study in mutual admiration and curiosity, with a slight hint of romantic yearning. It's the type of nuanced adult relationship we rarely see these days, and it elevates the film from its base B-movie roots.

The Brave One is a film that succeeds in spite of some apparent shortcomings entirely due to Foster and Howard's performances. The material in itself is powerful, but it too often falters in the logic department to be a true contender. Neil Jordan, an inspired director, seems to be unsure of how to steer this Hollywood idea film into being the type of that transcends its genre, like Spike Lee did with Inside Man. He is merely content to let his two leads do the heavy lifting and put some charge into a standard story. With that said, it's a nice looking film, with beautifully captured night shots and some haunting uses of light filtering through windows to better emphasize the heightened state of the film.

The screenplay, by scribes' Roderick Taylor, Bruce A. Taylor, and Cynthia Mort, makes decent use of the time-honored themes of the genre, without seeming too ridiculous or phony. Only two major sections seemed wrong-headed. These being when Foster, following a vicious attack in a scuzzy N.Y. area, goes wandering through the city's dregs in search of a handgun. Sure she's determined, but this is a woman so traumatized by her attack that she can't even leave her house without shaking. It rings false, but it isn't a deal-breaker. The other section that is questionable is the ending. It's a little too Hollywood happy-happy for me, not to mention unlikely. I severely doubt that events would transpire in such a way so as to allow the characters to resolve the story as they do. Still, it provides a certain catharsis and is at least mildly acceptable without being insulting. Some viewers may also be leery of the number of psychotic criminals who pop up when necessary, but I was willing to allow the writers' this particular flight of fancy in the name of Foster's character development.

Speaking of Foster, why isn't she the highest paid star in Hollywood? No offense to actresses like Reese Witherspoon, Nicole Kidman (Who is the closest to a modern day Grace Kelly we have.), or Angelina Jolie, but none of them display the sheer intensity and power that Miss Jodie does in every one of her films. I can't recall a single movie where she seemed to be phoning it in... Here again she delivers another ace performance that manages to stay with the viewer well after the story's convolutions are forgotten. It's the type of role worthy of an Oscar if only the film were stronger. She's badass and we accept it. Hell, we believe she could kick the ass of any thug in town! That we deem this likely is further testament to Foster's abilities to project her character's inner strength onto the audience. I'm now fully convinced she could beat the stuffing out of the three actresses mentioned above and still have enough energy to drop Dwight Yoakum with a sledge-hammer again ala Panic Room.

Terrence Howard, a naturally intense actor, continues to search for that post-Hustle & Flow defining role that will permanently enter him into the upper pantheon of great actors. He hasn't found it here, but his hunger is palpable. His sharp intelligence is a perfect counterpart to Foster's and the two work beautifully together. If only the writing had been a bit better we may have had a relationship as memorable as the whole Starling/Lecter shebang. As it stands though, Howard lends a smouldering rage to his character that better emphasizes the character's internal sadness. We want Jodie to get away, and yet we can't help empathizing with Howard. It takes a strong actor to make a part like this shine, and Terrence Howard shows us once again why his talent is unlikely to disappear from movies for a long time.

The other actor worthy of praise is Nicky Katt (Pictured right... This was the only pic I could find...), playing Howard's partner. He is the perfect sidekick: funny, resourceful, and able to be a pillar of strength for his partner's weaknesses. Katt (Sin City, World Trade Center) is the true revelation here. His performance, in little screen-time, manages to communicate his character's violent past and redemption in body language and punchy buts of dialogue. People will go into this film for the two stars above the film's title, but should pay special attention to Katt. This film shows great promise for a potential star on the rise.

So, the final question is: Is The Brave One worth my $10 bucks? To which I reply: Yes, it's the type of mainstream Hollywood "big idea" thriller that manages to be both entertaining and provocative. It won't top many year-end lists, but the actors' alone place this one in the "Solid" category. It isn't great, it ain't bad, it's solid. And with the way Hollywood is running these days that ain't too much of a negative.

It's also better than Shoot 'Em Up, if that helps.

3.5 out of 5

Film Review - THE SIMPSONS MOVIE: A Franchise Savior or Much Apu About Nothing?

A lot of intense questions hung over the head of 20th Century Fox's The Simpsons Movie. Would the film restore the glory of the franchise after multiple years of lousy output? Would the translation from TV to film work? Would the returning vintage-era writers (Creator Matt Groening, producer James L. Brooks and 9 more!) mine comic gold once again, delivering something that would have us in the gales of laughter that the entire season 5 did? Would Lenny and Carl finally have their big show-stopping love scene? Well, the answers are simple now: A no, a mild yes, a no... And a (regretful) no again. But let's get to the real nitty gritty here and dissect this sucker like Larry Drake in Dr. Giggles!

But first, lemme run through the story (This really won't take long. Thank God.). The film opens like most episodes do, with a seemingly random event. In this case, the Simpson family attends church, where Grandpa becomes a conduit for a message from God. The warning is garbled at best and mostly ignored by the blissfully ignorant townsfolk. Following this, Homer and Bart have a daring contest that ends with Bart handcuffed naked to a telephone pole, and Homer adopting a hilariously drawn pig. Bart, feeling unloved and questioning Homer's fatherly abilities, begins to ponder finding a more stable paternal figure in neighbor Flanders. All this is interrupted when Homer dumps a large amount of pig dung in recent environmental protection recipient Lake Springfield, thus causing massive pollution in Springfield. Meanwhile, opportunistic (and nefarious) EPA head Russ Cargill (Voiced by Albert Brooks) has Springfield enclosed in a massive dome to prevent the pollution from affecting the rest of the country. Following threats of mob violence from the town, the Simpson family escapes the dome and heads to Alaska, where they learn lessons and must decide whether to return to Springfield to set matters right and thwart Cargill's grim plans.

Hmm. That wasn't as brief as I expected. Well, live and learn.

Anyways, I covered my opinions on the current state of the show in a previous entry (Storm the archives for that stuff.), so I'm not gonna go into too much depth regarding that whole ball of wax. Rather, I'm simply going to state that The Simpson's Movie is a fairly grand improvement on anything featured in the last 7 or so years. But, with that said, it also suffers badly in comparison to every episode within the first decade (Except that wretched Coyote/Hallucination episode - Detailed in my previous entry.). Instead, the film falls squarely in the middle, never really daring to be anything other than an amusing diversion. And with a pedigree like this, that is a bit of a disappointment.

I laughed in The Simpsons Movie. A fair deal, in fact. The first half hour is a wonderful series of random "Simpson-esque" moments that lead from chortle to chuckle. Bart's naked skateboard odyssey across Springfield is a hilarious run with a shockingly funny capper. Individual moments with Ralph, Moe, Krusty, etc get laughs simply through familiarity. Unfortunately, however, once the storyline kicks in the laughs begin to fade. The doming of Springfield, leading into the Alaska material feels like the sorts of stunts that the show went crazy over once flagging inspiration began to kick in. The Simpsons in Brazil, London, Canada, Japan, and so on, times fifty. The Alaska stuff is cute, but has very little effect on the story at large. It's throwaway stuff that unforgivably takes us away from the rich supporting cast that has been the real strength behind the franchise. Instead we get Homer screwing over the family and having to learn a lesson. Virgin territory, I proclaim thee! Oh, and just for fun, we get another horrific existential scene that is a complete rip-off of that God forsaken coyote episode. Needless to say, annoyed disbelief led to simmering rage. In fairness, I will mention that the closing scenes are entertaining, although the action scenes are more perfunctory than necessary... And not overly enthralling.

So, what makes this film (slightly) worth your ten bucks? Well, the jokes are constant, with most getting great reactions from the audience. The voice acting by series regulars Dan Castellaneta (Homer, Grandpa, Krusty, et al.), Julie Kavner (Marge), Nancy Cartwright (Bart), Yeardly Smith (Lisa), Hank Azaria (Apu, Wiggum, Moe), Harry Shearer (Mr. Burns, Smithers, Skinner and many more) and company are dead-on and never falter (Although I suppose they've had almost 2 decades worth of practice by now...). Albert Brooks, one of the most frequent guest stars on the show, has some great scenes here too. As I said in my Pirates 3 review, familiarity goes a long way, and there's something comforting about spending a couple hours with this family in a cool theatre. Director David Silverman has served up a nice looking movie, with plenty of groovy CG moments that give the whole thing a little more depth and richness.

But the film still does feel a bit small when compared with previous attempts at TV-to-movie translations. Both South Park and Beavis & Butt-Head (Neither of whose shows came close to comparing to vintage Simpsons episodes!) did so much more with the form. They both, South Park in particular, dared themselves to aim higher than they ever could on television. They weren't content to simply toss off a extra-length episode. The creative minds behind The Simpsons Movie were, it seems, and so we can be forgiven for feeling underwhelmed when the curtains close. The experience reminded me of seeing Jetsons: The Movie back in 1990. The material is the same, only longer and with a few bells and whistles (Though The Simpsons is infinitely funnier).

Whether or not you are disappointed with this film will really depend on your view of the franchise's strengths and weaknesses. I missed the more obscure and witty film references that were hallmarks of the best episodes. Their targets here, Titanic, Independence Day and Night Of The Living Dead among them, felt too safe and generic. The post-modern material on the other hand, with jokes about the Fox network and the film's very existence, is strong and could have been further emphasized. As well, I can't argue enough over the exclusion of the supporting cast. Further use of them would have benefitted the film hugely. I could happily done without the overabundance of "homages" to classic episodes, as they felt more like desperate attempts to get laughs from proven material (Like in Bean!).

The film ends with the hint of a sequel. Let's hope next time we get something a little more courageous and unsafe. And let's dispense with junky titles like this one and find something cleverer. Bonus points if they call it "The Simpsons: Curious (Yellow)"

3 out of 5

Film Review: HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX: Welcome Back Potter!

I have never read a Harry Potter novel. Not a single one. I've never even flipped through one in a bookstore or library. This fact has drawn gasps from a legion of Potter-philes or whatever they call themselves, and yet I don't see this reality changing. With that said, however, I've greatly enjoyed each instalment in the film franchise and found myself eagerly skipping into the theatre to see this latest adventure The Order Of The Phoenix.

Now, before I dive in, my earlier declaration is both a warning and a promise regarding the content of this review. Most of the critiques I've read spend most of the time detailing how well the film echoes the book. I will not be going into this. I'll be focussing on how the film works, and how it fits with its predecessors. So, no, I won't be complaining about the excising of any Pockolumps or Hing-dinglers or whatever from the original text. This review is for those who have simply seen the movies (Once or twice as opposed to exhaustively) and wanna know if this one is any good.

H'Okay, moving on. Potter 5 opens with young Harry (Daniel Radcliffe) saving himself and his piggish cousin from a pair of Dementors in his hometown in England. This is a no-no, and soon he is up on charges of unlawful use of magic from the Ministry of Magic, who refute the young wizard's insistence that Lord Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes) has returned. This development brings his uncle Sirius Black (Gary Oldman) into the picture, in the process revealing the titular order, a small army united to battle Voldemort. Discovering that friends Hermione Granger (Emma Watson) and Ronald Weasley (Rupert Grint) are also included leads Harry to feel seriously alone. When he goes before the Ministry he is saved by mentor Dumbledore (Michael Gambon) at the last minute, although the Ministry quickly installs their own Dolores Jane Umbridge (Imelda Staunton - left with Smith and Emma Thompson) as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hoggwarts. Umbridge quickly takes over the school, revealing her own inner-fascist in the process, and is soon tormenting the students and teachers alike while suppressing the use of magic within the school. In the meantime, Harry, suffering nightmarish visions brought on by Voldemort, secretly bands together a collective group of students together to form an army to battle the dark lord. The film climaxes with the collective storming the Ministry of Magic's headquarters in search of an invaluable prophecy, and Voldemort making another important appearance.

Yeesh. Attempting to paraphrase the plot of this film in a paragraph is rough, and I'm sure any Potter die hard who's gotten this far is shaking with anger over my slipshod summarizing. Let's just say that a lot happens in The Order Of The Phoenix, and my little recount is mere lip service to the greater themes of the actual film.

Okay, now that the messiness is behind us, how is the actual movie? Well, it's absolutely delightful... Until the third act. New director David Yates, while not the auteur that Alfonso Cuaron (Prisoner Of Azkaban) or Mike Newell (Goblet Of Fire) are, is extremely good in handling the material surrounding the day-to-day adventures at Hoggwarts. These passages can often drag a film down, as with Goblet Of Fire and Philosopher's Stone, which both felt over-stuffed and meandering. Yates and new writer Michael Goldenberg gives these scenes a light touch that makes them extremely entertaining and endlessly absorbing. In particular, Miss Umbridge's hostile takeover of Hoggwarts is perhaps the juiciest, and most fun, middle section of perhaps any of the films.

If the film had ended with this section I would have been applauding and announcing it as the greatest Potter film yet. Unfortunately, however, the third act of the film is a fairly uninteresting lump of nonsense. The battle within the Ministry of Magic, where Harry and Co. battle an army of armoured dudes led by the evil Lucius Malfroy (Jason Isaacs) is visually unspectacular and choppy. The bad guys have no real identity and so the battle has little dramatic weight. We never really feel any of the children is truly in danger. I also have to say that, for me, a little wand-fighting goes a loooooong way. The climax features far too many scenes of people knocking each other off their feet with blasts of light, only to have them get up with little or no injury. I've always been a tad confused by these scenes through all the films, as the wands seem to do little more that knock people over or stun them. When one key character is apparently killed during the battle, we don't really understand why, as there is no build-up and little pay-off.

Similarly, Voldemort's big final appearance is as dull as his reveal in Goblet Of Fire. He hisses a lot and makes a lot of vague threats/taunts about coming to the dark side, Harry being too weak, killing all his loved ones, etc. It's like a lesser version of the Darth Vader/Luke battle in The Empire Strikes Back. Frankly, Voldemort (Right) is far more interesting when he is silent. There is a scene that is repeated throughout the film of him standing at a train station in a black suit that is mesmerizingly spooky. Ralph Fiennes gives him a sinister physicality and the briefness of the scene makes it far more frightening. Once he shows up delivering platitudes and threats he becomes a second-tier monster. I'm crossing my fingers that he sticks to the sidelines in the next film.

One other area that the film stumbles is in the effects department. I've always found the film's somewhat hit-and-miss in their CG and Order Of The Phoenix is no exception. The smaller stuff all looks great, Hoggwarts continues to amaze and the world itself is flawless. But whenever there is a big effects moment the results are often hokey. There is an ogre/giant character that looks about as realistic as Shrek. By having him stand next to human characters, his lacklustre rendering is only further emphasized. This is also the case in an important moment featuring centaurs. The final battle scenes are also iffy, with a whole lot of blurring. I also feel I should mention that almost every scene featuring characters flying on brooms fail to even meet the realism of the speeder bike chase from Return Of The Jedi (Made 24 years ago!!!). To be fair however, the dragon-horse things look pretty nifty.

The actors continue to do wonderful jobs, never faltering, and always fully inhabiting their characters. Sadly, Watson and Grint (Right) are sidelined as Harry takes centre stage, although both actors continue to charm. Daniel Radcliffe definitely seems to be growing as an actor, and meets every challenge here admirably. The real joy for me, though, is the Hoggwarts teachers. As in each instalment, Alan Rickman, Maggie Smith, Robbie Coltrane, Michael Gambon, etc. continue to endlessly entertain and inject a mature (yet playful) energy that really elevates this franchise to something brilliant. Most of all however, hat off to Imelda Staunton who creates the most boo-able villain of the summer. Her Miss Umbridge, like the demonic bastard sister of Kathy Bates Annie in Misery, is so cheerfully hateful that she blows the generic Voldemort clear off the screen. She steals every scene she's in and, if the Academy were more open-minded, would be a shoe-in for an Oscar nod. I didn't think anyone could top Kenneth Branaugh's Professor Lockhart in Chamber Of Secrets, but Staunton does. Gary Oldman, as Sirius Black is also a joy to watch. Oldman, often prone to playing unapproachable nut jobs projects a real sense of warmth here that is more than welcome. I also have to give special notice to Helena Bonham Carter. Her Bellatrix Lestrange, who is given a crackerjack introduction, is somewhat underdeveloped here but Bonham Carter (Channelling the bride of Frankenstein???) never fails to go gleefully over the top. Also, young Evanna Lynch, as Harry's odd classmate Luna Lovegood gives a truly winning performance and manages to find some real moments of truth that are the most moving moments in the film.

So, I suppose the inevitable question is where does The Order Of The Phoenix place amongst the other films? Unfortunately I have to place it at the bottom of list due to the wildly unsuccessful third act. Like Spider-Man 3, there is a lot of great stuff that get's hampered down by a number of weaknesses. It is important to mention, however, that like the James Bond films, even a lesser Potter film is still far more entertaining than the average blockbuster. These films have a consistency that is refreshing given the fallibility of film franchises these days, and for maybe the first time ever I walked out of a Potter movie eager for the next one. In a summer that has been dominated by impersonal mediocrity, this trip to Hoggwarts feels like a breath of fresh air. Let's just hope that next time the results are a little better.

3.5 out of 5