****/**** starring Brandon Routh, Kate Bosworth, James Marsden, Kevin Spacey
screenplay by Michael Dougherty & Dan Harris
directed by Bryan Singer
by Walter Chaw The
saddest, most desperately lonesome and melancholy mainstream film in
recent memory, Bryan Singer's Superman Returns is
about loss and, as a Scrabble board early in the picture denotes,
alienation. It's about fathers and sons and, by extension, why so many
of our mythologies are about sons divorced from fathers who spend the
rest of their lives, nay, the rest of eternity striving for impossible
reunions. Prometheus is mentioned by name while Atlas, Christ, and
Lucifer are referenced in image, Singer's transition from fallen Titans
to fallen Angels an ineffably graceful symbolic examination of where,
exactly, comic-book martyrs and gods (of which Superman is both) place
in the modern spiritual pantheon. Superman is a figure at a juncture in
the middle of pagan and Christian just as he's become something like a
transitional icon bridging science and religion, classic comics and the
modern superhero era, and Americana and the Wasteland. In the film,
Superman is a character warring between what he wants and the destiny
his father has charted for him--and aren't we all. When a child in Superman
Returns takes a picture with his cell phone that we recognize
as the cover for Superman's debut, 1938's "Action Comics" No. 1, it's
at once bemused and in love with Richard Donner's original vision of
the hero, but most of all it's eloquent in its assured, maybe even
prickly, recognition of where we were and what we've become.
**/**** starring
Henry Cavill, Amy Adams, Michael Shannon, Russell Crowe screenplay
by David S. Goyer directed
by Zack Snyder
by Walter
Chaw Zack
Snyder's Man
of Steel is
44 beautifully-constructed trailers strung together in the world's most
expensive promo reel; at this point in his career, it's fair to wonder
who it is Snyder's still trying to impress. Shapeless,
structure-less, the movie aspires towards nostalgic, grandiloquent, patriotic
pastiche but succeeds only in being disjointed, muted, and frustrating.
Take the casting of Kevin Costner as Superman's terrestrial dad,
Jonathan Kent. Perfect, right? But he's reduced to a fantastic scene
where he reveals his adopted son's alien origin that is fantastic
solely because Costner is not only magnificent when he's allowed to be
in his wheelhouse (baseball player, cowboy, farmer), but also because
there's a certain weight in the wrinkles on Costner's face and the grey
at his temples. He's the embodiment of a specific brand of nostalgia
all by himself, and the potential for him to be the spiritual centre of
a soulless film isn't merely squandered, it's aggressively squandered.
The Superman mythos at its best is about fathers and sons--the hero
(Henry Cavill, playing Supes as Wolverine) has, after all, lost two
fathers, orphaned twice in a strange land and compared visually and
thematically to Christ in every incarnation. ("The last son of
Krypton," n'est-ce
pas?) It's a powerful theme, one that explains the
enduring popularity of the character when wags have correctly
identified that there are no real, viable external threats to someone
who's essentially all-powerful. The Jesus story is meaningless if Jesus
never thought of Himself as merely a man carrying a terrible burden.
Consider the elevation of Watchmen's
Dr. Manhattan to inscrutable WMD, or The
Incredibles' Mr.
Incredible's near-ruin in the role of family man. No, Superman's
weakness is existential. I fear that Snyder--a director who seems to
abhor difference and adore surfaces in his pictures--is exactly the
wrong person to explore the irony of an immaculate conception tortured
in the role of outsider.
Image B+ Sound A- Extras A "Valley of
the
Shadow," "Descent," "Ascent," "The Outsider," "Precipitate," "Scars,"
"Misbegotten," "Cabin Pressure," "The Man Who Never Was," "Dead Men
Tell Tales," "Playing God," "Zion," "The Storm," "Plague," "Deja
Voodoo," "The Hunt," "The Mountain," "The Combination," "Visions"
by Walter Chaw I'll
say this at the get-go, that "The Dead Zone", the television series,
will never completely escape the shadow of David Cronenberg's enduring
feature film adaptation of the Stephen King source novel, and that
Anthony Michael Hall is a pale substitute for Christopher Walken,
particularly for Walken at what might be the actor's finest hour.
Luckily, Hall has an easier time shedding his John Hughes days, having
doubled in size (he's still trim, just not Farmer Ted), donned a black
leather pea coat (mine found the Salvation Army bin about five episodes
in--I never, ever want to look like Hall in Vancouver playing Johnny
Smith), and acquired a Vulcan arch to his brow that all but screams
"serious actor." Yet there's something since "The X-Files" that rubs me
wrong about most American shows shot north of the 49th Parallel: the
genericness of the setting doesn't scream Anytown, USA so much as
"Canada: it's cheaper and blander up here." Lacking atmosphere and
vibrancy, "The Dead Zone" is an extrapolation, especially in Season
Two, of the further adventures of John Smith, a reluctant clairvoyant
who can touch any person or thing (including air, which raises its own
set of problems/questions) and summon up visions of past or future that
inevitably put Johnny in the position of a powder-dipped saint in a
Mexican parade.
RUNNING TIME 43 minutes/episode MPAA
Not Rated ASPECT
RATIO(S)
1.78:1 (16x9-enhanced) LANGUAGES
English DD 5.1 CC Yes SUBTITLES English Spanish REGION
1 DISC
TYPE 5 DVD-9s STUDIO Lions Gate
Season 1 deals with
all the particulars of King's book save one. Schoolteacher by vocation,
saint by central casting, John Smith has, as he'll call it in a
recurring prologue, "the perfect life." He's engaged to elfin waif
Sarah (Nicole de Boer), who is pregnant with his pod JJ (Spencer
Achtymichuk, the worst child actor in North America once Jake Lloyd can
vote, at which point Paul Walker can also breathe a sigh of relief),
and he has a job helping people. Unlucky for
Johnny, he gets a six-year trip to Coma-ville, during which time Sarah
marries stolid cop Walt (Chris Bruno), and after which Johnny awakens
with the gift of CGI-aided, plane-taking-off-scored second-sight. The
detail from King left to founder is Johnny's relationship with politico
Greg Stillson (Sean Patrick Flannery), a handshake between them
revealing to the leather-clad Eagle Scout that once elected president,
Stillson will become the architect of the Apocalypse. It's this tension
that will carry several of the episodes of the second season (generally
the one that finds a show hitting its stride instead of, as is the case
here, a wall), as Johnny tries to undermine Stillson's political
aspirations while facing the no-brainer decision to either settle down
with super-hot reporter Dana (Kristen Dalton) or keep pining after
bat-faced Sarah. It's just one of a couple of no-brainers that "The
Dead Zone" mistakes for texture. You can call me un-romantic if you
want, but some things only make sense if you have a stable of extremely
talented writers. "The Dead Zone"--and this is being generous--has a
handful of barely serviceable writers at the best of times.
Take "Descent"
(2.2) and "Ascent" (2.3), for instance, together comprising a
two-parter about teenagers stuck in a mine that is so hysterically
over-written that a good third of the dialogue could be elided without
any ripple effect. (Same with at least two auxiliary characters that
serve no purpose but to be someone the editors can cut to for blank
reaction shots.) Ditto the impenetrable religious/It's A
Wonderful Life gobbledygook of "Zion" (2.12), guest starring
Lou Gossett Jr. in a spot as a preacher-man in which he looks
permanently on the verge of giving birth as he did in Enemy
Mine. The season premiere has potential, what with its tale
of a religious wacko believing that Johnny is a prophet (to prove it,
he'll kidnap some kid and have Johnny find him), but like most of the
moral ambiguity with which "The Dead Zone" flirts now and again, the
discussion of how dangerous cults form around a Pringle shaped like the
Virgin Mary, much less an actual "seer," is dropped like a hot potato
in the next episode, despite concluding with Johnny walking
provocatively out into a blazing blast of white light. A set-up for
Johnny's reluctant transformation into the hand of God? Yes--but it's
not in the cards for this series to step-up to the plate, too content
as it is to let the suggestion marinate into eternity. Or season 3.
Because it's the
kind of show that provides for our hero two sidekicks in the form of a
famous televangelist (Rev. Purdy (David Ogden Stiers)) and an ironic
black man/physical therapist Bruce (John L. Adams), there's not an
unhappy or challenging ending to be had here. Johnny always decides
right while he cheerfully plays god--and the one time he makes a hugely
suspect decision (in an episode titled "Playing God" (2.11), natch),
the suspect benefactor reassures Johnny that he has indeed done the
right thing. It's tedious, at the very least, having a hero incapable
of wrong, who always acts altruistically and whose life seems to
consist entirely of people and conversations that teach him a pointed
lesson. The series resets itself every week: the secret to longevity
for a TV show (see also "E.R." and "Law & Order") is to act as
though nothing's ever happened in a significantly resonant way so that
each subsequent episode can close on the same rim shot. What is a
cliffhanger, after all, but the vertical arc interrupted at the midway
point? I'd argue that television shows can't function in any other way
and still cultivate a large, slavish audience needing the same kind of
gratification week after week--except for the example of HBO's
"Deadwood", possibly the most nuanced and complex show in the history
of the medium. And it's popular, to boot.
But what irks the
most about "The Dead Zone" isn't that it's sort of tiresome and
goody-goody, and it isn't that it doesn't live up to the almost
impossible standard set by HBO's hat-trick of "The Sopranos", "Six Feet
Under", and "Deadwood", but that too often it feels as though the
writers are jumping the proverbial shark with Johnny's powers simply
for the sake of greasing an episode's wheels. Like in "The Outsider"
(2.4), when he touches a television set and sees a vision of a new
wrinkle medicine causing thousands of birth defects, or in "Cabin
Pressure" (2.8), when he feels the air from a jet engine and predicts
its imminent demise (if breathing triggers Johnny, what does
recirculated air, period, do to him?). The nadir is a metaphorical
vision in which he sees parts of Robert Culp's "The Man Who Never Was"
(2.9) being "erased"--not by supernatural means, but by the
government's efforts to suppress his identity. The most egregious
missed opportunity in season two of "The Dead Zone", in fact, isn't the
camp meta-recognition with guest star Ally Sheedy's appearance in
"Playing God" (why not Judd Nelson and Molly Ringwald, too? I'm sure
they could use the paycheck), but the fumbling of a fingerless Culp at
least recognizing his seminal moment in "The Outer Limits"' "Demon with
a Glass Hand."
That's the fanboy
in me talking, of course. What the critic would say is that "The Dead
Zone" has innumerable chances for Johnny to do something selfish,
something totally self-serving, with his powers, like sacrificing a few
children in a bus for the possibility of love in his life, or letting
Sarah's husband die in order to rekindle a relationship with her and
his estranged son. Far from alienating the audience, acts of
small-mindedness would actually serve to humanize Johnny (best would've
been Johnny supporting candidate Gerald McRaney even though he sees a
Vietnam mini-Mai Lai in his past). Without it, we're left with a pale,
benevolent, omniscient, faultless god that, like all such spit-shined
deities, is increasingly hard to support as time wears on.
Special mention
should go to the cliffhanger episode that brings up the rear of Season
Two as guest star Frank Whaley, appearing briefly as a mysterious
figure in the two episodes leading up to the finale, unveils himself as
another seer in Johnny's mode, but one based a few years in the future,
post-nuclear holocaust. And, fascinatingly, when he and Johnny hold the
nub of Johnny's cane, they can communicate with one another over the
temporal abyss. If this is where Season 3 is going, I'm curious in
spite of myself. Here, in one episode (the only one of the season,
let's face it), is the full, tripped-out potential of the premise
brought to at least partial fruition: if it's not going to let Johnny
be human, if it's just going to fart around with bigger issues like
faith and destiny, then it should have the decency to let the geeks get
into time continuums and alternate universes. At the very minimum,
let's hope that the series avoids more debacles like "Dead Men Tell
Tales" (2.10), wherein a James Horner-esque penny whistle and more bad
acting than was actually in Titanic pave the way
for a howlingly-misdirected tribute to James Cameron's kitsch classic.
THE DVD "The Dead Zone: The
Complete Second Season" finds its way home again in a five-disc set
housed in a gatefold that fits comfortably inside a cardboard shell.
Each hour is presented in a nice 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen transfer
boasting of the bright, Invasion of the Body Snatchers
plastic fantastic that Canadian location shoots produce. The lack of
real care taken in porting the series to DVD, however, crops up in a
few unsolved moiré patterns, frequent combing of the image at
edit-points, and some fairly bad pixellation on busy backgrounds. It is
what it is. DD 5.1 audio similarly does the trick with a minimum of
fireworks, but on occasion it'll surprise with the ambient footfall, or
an explosion of pigeons from the rear channel.
Disc 1 contains a
short featurette, actually three (collectively called "The Making of an
Episode"), which talks about how an episode begins with an idea and
ends with a trainwreck. The first segment, "Script Writing Process" (5
mins.), fails to mention why it is that 30% of every episode is ugly
fat begging to be trimmed. "Casting" (6 mins.) is essentially a long
interview with Vancouver casting director Sue Brouse that, against all
odds, proves to be a pretty good look at what it is that a casting
director does, while in "Costumes" (7 mins.), costume designer Cynthia
Summers tells us a lot of what we probably could have figured out on
our own but don't mind hearing anyway. Disc 2 continues this virtual
first day of film school with "Location Scouting" (7 mins.), featuring
"Project Greenlight"-familiar shots of crew holding Starbucks cups
whilst standing around arguing about nothing much.
"VFX Meeting" (7
mins.) is the director and the visual F/X supervisor sitting in an
office going over the script and storyboard, brainstorming ideas on how
to visualize what's been written. Disc 3 includes "Production Meeting"
(6 mins.), essentially more guys in sweaters drinking coffee in a
crowded boardroom, taking conference calls and going over the script.
Disc 5 covers "Production" (10 mins.), an overview wherein Hall's
elucidation of the steps he takes to prepare (part Method, part study
hour) joins other cast & crew auto-deconstructions that run the
gamut from "not helpful" to "hmmm, I almost care about that." Disc 5
wraps things up with the self-explanatory "Editing" (9 mins.), the
7-minute "Visual Effects Materials" (a lesson in DIY tornadoes), and
"Sound Mixing" (6 mins.), a piece that tackles one of the most
misunderstood elements of the process with grace. Cast Bios, Production
Team Bios, and text-based press kit fluff ("From the Desk of the
Executive Producers") round out all five platters.
The real pain
comes, though, in the discovery that commentary tracks have been
diligently recorded for every single, mother-scratching episode of the
season and that other episode-specific goodies decorate these discs.
Here goes nothing:
2.1 "Valley of the
Shadow" - Participants: Guest psycho Eric
Schaeffer, executive producer Lloyd Segan, writer/producer Michael
TaylorHighlight: When Schaeffer, who
has the least to lose, comments that a process shot of Johnny standing
in the middle of a post-apocalyptic National Mall is "Washington DC
after four more years of the Bush administration." A cheap shot, much
appreciated, though not by Segan and Taylor. Lowlight: Taylor's
repeated, desperate pleas to get back on topic, whereupon he
steadfastly regurgitates plot.
2.2 "Descent" - Participants:
VFX Supervisor Jaison Stritch,
producer Robert PetroviczHighlight: Petrovicz's
faux-childlike faux-delight
at how convincing the unconvincing mine set looks. Lowlight: The
lengthy confusion and conversation about whether or not the opening
montage is composed of clips from season one or some mysterious ether
where "The Dead Zone" is made independent of this dimension's
incarnation. This episode is also gifted with a storyboard comparison
that runs two minutes against the episode's action sequences.
2.3 "Ascent" - Participants:
Guest star James Handy, Chris
Bruno ("Sheriff Walt"), (over)writer Jill BlotevogelHighlight:
The sly undercurrent of self-knowledge that
suggests that at least two of these three people know what a piece of
crap this episode is. Lowlight: How Blotevogel
seems just a touch too involved with the fictional lives of these
paper-thin characters. "I yelled 'Oh no, Walt!' when that happened!"
2.4 "The Outsider"
- Participants: Anthony Michael Hall,
supervising producer Shawn Piller, supervising producer/writer Craig
SilversteinHighlight: Confession that
most of the crew will work for fifteen hours and then go home and play
one another on XBox into the wee hours. Lowlight: The
weak-ass rationale for how Johnny touching a television could offer
this episode's horrific glimpse into the possible future.
2.5 "Precipitate" -
Participants: Hall and
John L. Adams ("Physical therapist Bruce")Highlight:
Adams coaxes Hall a little out of his
shell, making him considerably less stuffed-shirt. "Yo, 'Dead Zone'
fans, this is the homey edition of the commentary track!" You take what
you can get. Lowlight: The ongoing conversation
about whether people go to the commentary tracks first before watching
the show proper, leading Adams to narrate the action regardless. That,
plus long stretches of stupid silence explained by, "This is us
watching, y'all." Another two-minute storyboard comparison caps the
episode.
2.6 "Scars" - Participants:
Track 1: Director Armand
Mastroianni and Silverstein; Track 2: Sean Patrick
Flanery ("Stillson") and DVD producer Robert ChynowethHighlights:
Track 1: Silverstein works as sort of an
interviewer, drawing Mastroianni out to an extent--a tactic I always
appreciate. Track 2: The unforced exuberance/enthusiasm that Flanery
brings to the shooting match is infectious, particularly his off-topic
adoration of Will Ferrell's imitation of James Lipton. Lowlights:
Track 1: Mastroianni getting drawn out too
often means that Silverstein bends over backwards to kiss ass. Track 2:
The comparison of Gerald McRaney with Gene Hackman. Storyboards (3
mins.) accompany this episode as well.
2.7 "Misbegotten" -
Participants: Director
Nick Marck and SeganHighlight: Segan
playing the boob so that Marck can explain terms like "second unit." Lowlight:
Marck's admission that he had to look up the meaning of the term
"Misbegotten." In addition to a storyboard sequence, an interview with
Tracey Gold (2 mins.) sees the actress giving an extended plot recap as
well as one of those crinkly-eyed apologias for her character that
stinks of canned junket babble.
2.8 "Cabin
Pressure" - Participants: Track 1: Blotevogel
(she puts the "Bloat" in "Blotevogel"!), Stritch, director Mike Rohl,
DP Stephen McNutt; Track 2: David Ogden Stiers
("Rev. Purdy") and ChynowethHighlights: Track
1: With so many people on board, there isn't much room for downtime.
Track 2: Chynoweth is a good prod and I appreciate Stiers's confession
that he doesn't watch the show. His concern for a stuntwoman is warm
and genuine. Lowlights: Track 1: And yet, there's
a surprising amount of downtime, anyhow. Call it a mixed blessing.
Track 2: "That shaking is so real." Another short storyboard comparison
(3 mins.) and an interview with Mike Rohl (4 mins.) extend the agony.
Rohl, like Gold before him, spends almost the whole time summarizing
the episode. What do you suppose the purpose of shit like this is? Your
guess is as good as mine, but I'm suspecting it has something to do
with pimping the box set. You can't TIVO some guy named Mike Rohl
reminding you of what you just saw now, can you?
2.9 "The Man Who
Never Was" - Participants: Hall and guest
star Robert CulpHighlight: Culp reveals
that he was on his way to becoming a cartoonist when acting intervened.
That, and I love Culp. Lowlight: "Demon with a
Glass Hand" is never once mentioned and there's some talk about how
hard it was to figure out how to pronounce "Grissom." Yep. An interview
with Culp (3 mins.) is, yep, a long recap of what we've just seen.
Remove sharp objects.
2.10 "Dead Men Tell
Tales" - Participants: Petrovicz and SeganHighlight: Segan mocks the
opening montage, apparently as tired of it as we are by this point--the
pair then proceeds to flirt around criticizing the piece as "too
theatrical" or, on the other side, too influenced by "Law &
Order". Lowlight: The entire episode is a
lowlight, this stupid friggin' homage to Titanic
that, like the last episode, casts Hall in various period noir
aspects to community theatre affect. The guys seem to sense it, and the
fact that you only get a couple of suits commenting on it makes this
both an evasive commentary (in the worst sense of the word) and a
useless one as well. I was tasked once with facilitating a Q&A
between the producer of a few horrible Canadian films and a live
audience; believe me when I tell you that producers, by and large,
don't know shit about shit. They write checks, they don't make art. Ask
them about their product and they'll try to sell it to you. A deleted
scene (3 mins.) of Hall getting beat up--which is missed--and a useless
interview with director Gloria Muzio (3 mins.) append this episode.
2.11 "Playing God"
- Participants: Hall and...Ally Sheedy!Highlight: So these guys like
each other and hearing them together is a lot like a wormhole back to
my own high school/John Hughes days. Nostalgia snuck up on me unawares.
I love Sheedy--she's underestimated--and the little dialogue about High
Art embedded herein is hilarious and authentic. Lowlight:
I'm putting away the snark gun, I really
like this commentary track--a lot better than the episode it decorates,
it goes without saying. A short storyboard comparison (2 mins.)
accompanies a useless deleted scene (1 min.) and an interview with
Sheedy (3 mins.) that was most likely provoked by an off-camera
question that went something like, "Okay, describe in three minutes
what your character is like and what happens in this show. Do you want
some shrimp cocktail?" Sheedy, though, does touch on The
Breakfast Club and her loyalty to Hall, rendering this the
most significant interview segment in the entire package.
2.12 "Zion" - Participants:
Hall, guest star Lou Gossett, Jr.,
SeganHighlight: Gossett saying, "That's
what I do," in response to all the adulation offered by Hall and Segan.
Lowlight: All the adulation. The
interview with Gossett (3 mins.) is more of the same old same old.
2.13
"The Storm"--Participants: Director
Michael Robison, Stritch, PetroviczHighlight: The
chance to see Kristen Dalton (left, with de Boer) in
her bikini again. Okay, I'm a pig. Lowlight: Someone
making a "rrrowr!" noise to indicate the onset of a catfight. Pig I may
be, but I stop short at doing the scratchy-gesture whenever two women
get into an argument. Storyboards (2 mins.) and a pair of deleted
scenes (7 mins.) make up the episode's bells and whistles; the deleted
scenes are mostly just extended exchanges that desperately need the
company on the cutting room floor.
2.14 "Plague" - Participants:
Guest star Stephen Tobolowsky and
BlotevogelHighlight: Inveterate
character actor Tobolowsky's performance in this episode and his
professionalism in the commentary do not go unappreciated. Lowlight:
Blotevogel's constant amazement at things
in the show as well as her barely-disguised pride over being one of the
first writers to tackle the nothing relationship between Johnny and his
tabula rasa rascal. Storyboards
(3 mins.) and an interview with Tobolowsky (3 mins.) are more of the
same, if the latter is delivered in Tobolowsky's thoughtful style.
2.15 "Deja Voodoo"
- Participants: Hall, lovely guest star
Reiko Aylesworth, co-executive producer/writer Karl SchaeferHighlight:
Hall rightly mentions that a Groundhog
Day sort of premise is at work in this episode, although it's
actually more like that episode of "The X Files" where Scully and
Mulder have to stop a bank robbery that keeps going wrong. Lowlight:
Hall saying, "You're a very intelligent
young lady" to Aylesworth in what must be the world's most
condescending pick-up line. An interview with Aylesworth (3 mins.)
begins, "I play Natalie Connor and..." "And" you know the rest.
2.16 "The Hunt" - Participants:
Director James Head, Petrovicz,
PillerHighlight: As "The Hunt" covers
Johnny being recruited to hunt down a never-named Bin Laden, a reverie
concerning the importance of Starbucks in greasing the production
wheels comes as a much-appreciated breath of levity. Ironic that the
USA network pushed back the airdate of this episode, considering that
the invasion of Iraq doesn't seem to have anything to do with hunting
Uncle Osama. Lowlight: The fascination with the
term "poop plant" to refer to their waste treatment plant location.
2.17 "The Mountain"
- Participants: Director Rohl, Stritch,
PetroviczHighlight: The description of
underwater stock footage of fish as a "$50,000 shot." Lowlight:
The continued excitement about the way that
Johnny's visions are represented. Storyboards (2 mins.) and an
interview with Scott William Winters (3 mins.) provide more stultifying
nada.
2.18 "The
Combination" - Participants: ESPN boxing
commentator/trainer Teddy Atlas and writer/producer Mike TaylorHighlight: Atlas lends a good
deal of street credibility to the whole onanistic mess as Taylor
babbles on and on in omega-male adulation, only to have Atlas swoop in
with his Tony Soprano palooka charm. Lowlight: Taylor's
litany of hopeful "Y'know...y'know?"s. An interview with guest star
Greg Serano tells you everything you need to know about what happened
in the episode you just watched.
2.19 "Visions" - Participants:
Silverstein and PillerHighlight:
The admission early on that the rank of
"supervising producer" has no meaning. Lowlight: All
the adulation. A deleted scene (2 mins.) features more of the toothy
(and toothsome) Ione Skye--which is good. It joins two interviews, one
with Skye (2 mins.)--still good, although it offers nothing of
particular nourishment--and the other with Frank Whaley (4 mins.).
Whaley clearly struggles against the constraints of this interview
format, his crusty demeanour sneaking through now and again.
On to Season 3. Originally published: June 7, 2005.
***/**** starring Adrien Brody, Sarah Polley, Delphine Chanéac, David Hewlett
screenplay by Vincenzo Natali & Antoinette Terry Bryant and
Doug Taylor
directed by Vincenzo Natali
by Ian Pugh Vincenzo Natali's Splice
unavoidably lives in the shadow of countless sci-fi/horror properties
that came before it--stories that have already taught us, as Splice
teaches us, that tragedies occur when Man dabbles in God's domain. But
dismiss the film as cliché at your own peril. While it provides
numerous shocks to the system, the traumas themselves take a backseat
to the horror of their implications and, moreover, what those tragedies
say about the risks and ambitions of daily life. Indeed, while the
movie consciously seeks to fashion a cautionary tale out of the stock
phrase "What's the worst that could happen?," its ultimate goal is to
tell that tale as a domestic drama.
ZERO STARS/**** starring Will Smith, Jaden Smith, Sophie Okenedo, Zoë Kravitz screenplay by Gary Whitia and M. Night Shyamalan directed by M. Night Shyamalan
by Angelo Muredda Give M. Night Shyamalan this much: he is
not a timid filmmaker. Where some might have responded to the critical drubbing
of The
Village with a shrug, Shyamalan turned his follow-up,
ostensibly a children's story, into a vicious riposte. Lady in the Water isn't just an off-kilter fairytale about an endangered waif who
falls out of the sky and into Paul Giamatti's swimming pool: it's also a deranged
manifesto for protecting the imaginative freedom of artists like
Shyamalan--playing a writer who will one day be martyred for his ideas,
collected in a volume modestly titled "The Cookbook"--against
critics and nonbelievers, who meet deservedly bad ends. That would be a gutsy
move if the artist had something to die for himself, yet the best you could say
for Lady in the Water is that at least Bob Balaban's beast-ravaged movie
reviewer is spared the finale with a saviour eagle that Shyamalan has the gall
to christen "Eaglet." Though nominally a star vehicle for Will Smith
and his son Jaden, After
Earth covers much the same ground, down to its
repetition of both the aquila
ex machina trope and half-assed nomenclature. (A
double-sided spear is a "cutlass" in the future, while walking
stealthily is now "ghosting." No word on what we call spoons or
actual cutlasses.) Lady
in the Water's world-building by crayon doodles can be
explained away easily enough by its bedtime-story mechanics, but there's no
excuse for After
Earth, a thinly-sketched, unbearably haughty
survival story that cites Moby-Dick as it steals from Suzanne Collins.
***½/****
DVD - Image A Sound A Extras A
BD - Image A Sound A+ Extras A
starring Lizzy Caplan, Jessica Lucas, T.J. Miller, Michael Stahl-David
screenplay by Drew Goddard
directed by Matt Reeves
by Walter Chaw I love this movie. I love
its freedom and its exuberance, its sense of fun and its creativity. I
love that it uses The Blair Witch Project as a
launchpad for its low-tech, found-footage brilliance; I love its
genius-level viral marketing campaign and its Ludditism and overt
technophobia. Where The Blair Witch Project
skewered trust-fund kids picking a particularly unfortunate senior
project, Cloverfield takes on twentysomething
urbanites on top of the world in Manhattan, celebrating the departure
of one of their own on the night the chickens come home to roost.
There's no explanation of the mayhem in Cloverfield
beyond that a monster has attacked and that the recoil its rampage
spawns inevitably resembles memories of our collective scarring by
9/11. All it does, really, is clarify that when people at Ground
Zero referred to the falling of the WTC as "just like in a movie," it
didn't point to a divorce from reality but to an inability, utterly, to
conceive of anything so epoch-shaking as possible outside the prism of
our precious, silver-graven images. The history depicted in our films
is the only history we know.
***/**** Image A+ Sound A+ Extras B-
starring Keri Russell, Josh Hamilton, Dakota Goyo, J.K. Simmons
written and directed by Scott Stewart
click any image to enlarge
by Bill ChambersDark Skies takes place in
the days leading up to the Fourth of July.
The movie thus promises fireworks--and it delivers, albeit on a modest
scale
befitting its humble suburban milieu. Like Signs,
it's such an insular
take on the alien-visitation genre it could almost be performed on the
stage;
unlike Signs, it's not pious to a fault
(surprisingly, given that
writer-director Scott Stewart previously made Legion
and Priest),
and its lapses in logic aren't as maddening because they're built into
the film's
very ethos, with a Whitley Streiber type (lent unexpected pathos by
a Hunter S. Thompson-dressed J.K. Simmons) opining late in the
proceedings that
aliens are unfathomable to us in the same way that humans are
unfathomable to
lab rats. There are a lot of superficial similarities to Signs,
actually, such as the way the picture uses asthma and walkie-talkie
devices as narrative
keystones and its climactic transformation of the family home into a
fortress.
For that matter, Poltergeist, Paranormal
Activity, and Close
Encounters of the Third Kind are liberally paraphrased as
well; over three
films, Stewart has shown himself to be nothing if not a magpie artist.
The good
news, which would normally be upsetting news, is that the producers of Dark
Skies are Bob and Harvey Weinstein, who seem to rein in
Stewart's other bad
habits, like snail's pacing and a tendency towards arcane mythology.
Third
time's the charm.
**/****
DVD - Image A- Sound A Extras B
BD - Image A- Sound A Extras B
starring Mel Gibson, Joaquin Phoenix, Rory
Culkin, Abigail Breslin
written and directed by M. Night Shyamalan
by Walter Chaw M. Night Shyamalan makes very specific films about very
specific
concerns in a very specific manner: long master shots; an unusual trust
in silence; remarkably few edits for a modern picture; joy in the
choice of garish topics; and a thing for failed fathers and their lost
little boys. He reminds of Hitchcock in his elevation of pulp art into
high art, but differs in that his concerns aren't so much about
abnormal psychology, the nervy manipulation of the audience, and the
voyeuristic implication of movie-watching as they are about personal
demons and Shyamalan's increasingly obvious desire to be considered in
the same breath as his idol.
*/**** Image
A Sound A- Extras B-
starring
Patrick Stewart, Jonathan Frakes, Brent Spiner, LeVar Burton
screenplay by John Logan
directed by Stuart Baird
by Walter Chaw For a film
in a tired franchise trying to duplicate Star Trek II: The
Wrath of Khan
(inarguably the best of the cinematic "Trek" line) down to an
articulate arch villain, heroic sacrifice, and mind-meld cheat, the
irony of having the central conflict revolve around a defective clone
is delicious and hilarious. Star Trek: Nemesis
(hereafter Nemesis) is abominable pretension draped
in the sheep's frock of sci-fi pulp--pap of the first water invested in
undergraduate doubling subtexts and ridiculous stabs at existentialism
reminding of the discovery of the wizard of God in the fifth Trek
flick.
***½/**** starring John Cho, Ben Cross, Bruce Greenwood, Leonard Nimoy screenplay by Roberto Orci & Alex Kurtzman directed by J.J. Abrams
by Walter Chaw My
long-held suspicion of J.J. Abrams as a no-trick pony has thawed
completely now that after producing the exceptional Cloverfield,
he has directed a reboot of Gene Roddenberry's beloved "Star Trek" that
walks the fine line between absolute seriousness and absolute cheese
and does so in about the exact same, smart, swashbuckling way as the
'60s TV show, to which this movie serves not as a prequel, but
as a delicious alternate possibility. Abrams's Star Trek
is faithful to Roddenberry's vision in every way, including a
restoration of the sexiness and spunk that's been largely lost to
decades of syndication. It's easy to forget that the first interracial
kiss on television belongs to the original series--not to mention all
those ripped-shirt fights, tumbles with green girls, and
"Bizarro-version" facial hair. The picture is faithful simultaneously
to the spirit of this time, joining what looks to
be a spate of films with apocalyptic visions of entire planets
destroyed by unimaginable calamity. Spry and well-written, Star
Trek plays up the idea of individual heroism for the
collective good in high Trek fashion and, fascinatingly, works in the
clay of deep-set parental issues to give its young characters the
psychological framework for evolution in this new reality. If this
James T. Kirk (Chris Pine) is more of a brawler and a rake than
Shatner's rakish brawler, blame it on the premature loss of daddy; if
this Spock (Zachary Quinto) has his humanity closer to the skin than
the other Spock (Leonard Nimoy, who has a sizeable role), blame it on
mommy (Winona Ryder). Yet for all its weighted subtext, it avoids the
self-seriousness of Christopher Nolan's Batman films and Bryan Singer's
Superman Returns, finding in its
material the spirit of discovery and bonhomie that
made the franchise in its heyday one of the most affecting bits of
popular relational drama on television.
Recent Comments