G.I. JOE: First Publicity Pics A (Snake)EYE-ful

Hey there, just a short update (It's 12:30am and I'm too tired to rattle on like a dementia- crazed Floridian). Now, I'm sure any of you wandering over to this inconsistently updated corner of the web-verse are well educated on the upcoming G.I. Joe film adaptation. It's been covered half to death over at aintitcool.com and the most excellent chud.com. But before I get to the news, an update for the confused.

Stephen Sommers (Pictured right), the mastermind behind the Mummy series and Deep Rising... Not to mention Van Helsing... God, did that movie suck! A joyless exercise in CG buffoonery! Man, those were two hours of my life I'll never get back... You know, I don't know why I'm wasting space talking about anything that goblin hack is associated with! Oh yeah, I remember! See, as much as I dislike the directorial ineptitude of Sommers, I do have a soft spot for G.I. Joe.

Now, when I say I have a soft spot, I am in no way trying to call myself out as a super-fan. I never had many figures or watched the show (My mom wouldn't let me! I know, sacrilege!!!), but I have fond memories of spending hours with my friends Mark, Iain and Ben creating massive efforts of action-figure driven mayhem. So, when I say I look forward to a G.I. Joe movie, it’s for that simple nostalgia of two or three kids sitting on the front lawn imagining violently horrific acts that were probably psychology harming.

But back to the flick, G.I. Joe: The Movie, which is underway now (And due to be released summer 2009). A slight alteration: they are now a global taskforce as opposed to an American power. Probably a good idea for foreign business. So far, the cast includes: Dennis Quaid (Day After Tomorrow, Jaws 3D) as Hawk, Channing Tatum (Step Up) as Duke, Joseph Gordon-Levitt (3rd Rock From The Sun, The Lookout) as Cobra Commander (Apparently a pivotal character in the movie who will begin on the side of good and transform into the bitchy narcissist we know and love by film's end.), Sienna Miller (Stardust, Layer Cake) as Baroness, Rachel Nichols (P2) as Scarlett, Christopher Eccleston (28 Days Later) as Destro (The film's main villain), Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje (!!!) (Get Rich And Die Trying) as Heavy Duty, Marlon Wayans (Scary Movie, Requiem For A Dream) as Ripcord, Arnold Vosloo (The Mummy) as Zartan, Byung-hun Lee as Storm Shadow and most exciting of all: Jonathan Pryce (Pirates Of The Caribbean trilogy) as "The President".

Now let’s delve deeper into that Jonathan Pryce casting! What I've always found fascinating about Jonathan Pryce is his ability to find the emotionally duality of his character. Why, his "President" will no doubt be a scintillating study in the corrupting power of the military industrial complex over political independence...

Oh wait, who cares?! No, let's get to the real enchilada, the reason I'm wasting your time and mine in posting this update. I wanna talk about Snake-Eyes! No, not the Nicolas Cage movie! Though I could happily discuss that wretched Brian DePalma debacle for hours... Anyways, I'm referring, obviously, to everyone's favorite mute, black-clad ninja-assassin. Well, as was announced a while back, he'll be portrayed by Ray Park (Pictured right), he who was Darth Maul and Toad in X-Men, as well as his most popular character: A.J. Ross in Ballistic: Ecks Vs. Sever! Park, a killer martial artist, is frankly the largest reason I'm psyched to see this flick. Snake-Eyes, the biggest fan-fave, has to potential to be an awesome vehicle to show off Park's skills and agility. Hopefully Sommers, after finishing "Directing For Dummies", re-watched Star Wars: Episode I and made notes. Give this guy long shots and long takes. No crappy Bourne-style camera work. No MTV-editing. This is obviously all speculation, as its unlikely Sommers has the ability to write, but I can hope and pray that Park finally gets a good launching pad that could get his first dream project, a film adaptation of Marvel's Iron Fist, off and running.

Oh, and to please you rabid Snake-Eyes fans, here's two awesome shots of Park in full regalia. I'm gonna just post them big, and not scrunch them up amongst my desperate-for-attention yammering. Enjoy.

















Okay guys, that's them! I'll try to post the first Destro and Cobra Commander pics as well whenever they surface. AND I PROMISE to get the first Jonathan Pryce as "President" pics! I can easily squeeze 1000 words outta those! Speaking of which, I'm actually close to that point now, so I'm gonna git to bed. I'm tired and have to work tomorrow. Check back soon for more wacky Jonathan Pryce-related news here as Cam's P.(ryce)-C.(entred) Episodes.





Heh heh heh... You said it, Johnny-boy! You rocked in Tomorrow Never Dies!

Film Review: DOOMSDAY: Director Neil Marshall's DESCENT Into 80's Action Is A Cheeselover's Dream!

To call Doomsday the funniest film you'll see all year may sound like something of an insult, and indeed it sort of is. Brit director Neil Marshall, who helmed and wrote the stylish and frightening 2005 spelunking horror flick The Descent, returns here with what can only be described as a grotesque assemblage of scenes from far better movies. It's like Marshall couldn't select one or two movies to rip off, so he decided to do as many as possible in one gloriously disjointed explosion of carnage and absurdity. The results are campy, over-indulgent, and sometimes oddly brilliant.

But I'm getting ahead of myself here. Doomsday introduces us to a future where the "Reaper Virus" (A mix of Ebola and the 28 Days Later germ) has taken control of the United Kingdom. To combat the problem the government has quarantined the northern half of the continent for the last 30 years. However, in "2035.Now", as the title card slyly reads, the infection has escaped into populated London, while simultaneously survivors have been spotted by satellite living in the infected zone. A heavily armed Special Forces team, led by Eden Sinclair (Rhona Mitra - Pictured right), have just 48 hours to enter the zone and track down the elusive Dr. Kane (Malcolm McDowell) in hopes of finding a cure. The task is complicated immensely by the discovery of a cannibalistic army of nomads (Who like like Maori warriors crossed with the Sex Pistols), which leads to essentially ninety minutes of excessive brutality and ultra-splatter.

To call the plot of Doomsday unoriginal is somewhat of an understatement. Its less a film than a greatest hits package, with assorted bits taken from: The Lord of the Rings, Resident Evil, The Warriors, Escape From New York, Clockwork Orange, Gladiator, The Omega Man, The Mad Max trilogy, Ladyhawke, 28 Days Later, and the Gimp from Pulp Fiction thrown in for good measure. But homages can be a lot of fun when handled properly, and Marshall manages to pull off the majority, with exception to the fight scenes. Despite liberally pilfering elements from a number of better action films, similar scenes in Doomsday are shoddily edited and nearly incomprehensible. The hand-to-hand combat lacks geography and establishing shots, which takes away from the visceral thrills. The car chases fair much better, however, and are a fitting tribute to George Miller’s The Road Warrior.

The lack of truly spectacular action is not favourable when a movie has as bland a plot as Doomsday, and indeed the first quarter of the film is deadly dull. With that said however, all weariness is immediately gone the second cannibal-biker leader Sol, played by a possessed Craig Conway (Pictured right), takes the stage. What follows is a scene of pure, unbridled B-movie glory. As the bikers gather at a Thunderdome-like arena, Sol preens and prances across a stage, lip-synching “Good Thing” by the Fine Young Cannibals, while being backed by gyrating female pole dancers and kilted male Scottish dancers. It’s the best scene in the film, unforgettable in its ludicrousness, and it instantly erases our memories of the tortured earlier scenes.

Its unfortunate that the rest of the actors don’t appear the relish the material as much as Conway does. Star Mitra, while a perfectly capable physical performer, emotes like a Kate Beckinsale clone lacking facial mobility. Bob Hoskins, as Mitra's boss, seems embarrassed to even be here, while Malcolm McDowell gives another hammy performance on par with his appearances in Halloween and Tank Girl. Is it just me or has he not been good since... Um... Clockwork Orange...? Actually, I liked him in Gangster No. 1, but still. Come on Malcom, pull yourself up and do something that isn't sub-Street Fighter. And no, your cameo in In Good Company didn't count.

Despite its many obvious shortcomings, its is very hard to hate Doomsday. It has that goofy 80's John Carpenter spirit that emphasizes cheesy thrills over even a modicum of intelligence. And indeed, its difficult to really dislike any film that treats us to a close-up on an exploding rabbit... Or a decapitated head bouncing off the camera lens... Or a buff heroine outrunning knights on horseback in a 2008 Bentley... Or a... Well, you'll just have to see the rest for yourself. And if you do go, bring friends... And perhaps alcohol if you feel so inclined.

2.5 out of 5

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