The Dark Knight Rises (2012) Movie Review

Kind of hard to believe that it has actually been seven years since the so-called "comic book movie" took a sober hard left with Christopher Nolan's Batman Begins, a film that essentially took the more literate auteur into the ranks of the blockbuster elite. Having only done one major studio feature prior (Insomnia) with middling success, imagine my own personal reaction when his take on the Caped Crusader turned out to be one of my favorite translations from the printed panel to the screen. How little then did I consider the common thread that binds the majority of Nolan's works (tales of complex individuals, more often men, obsessed with correcting a great wrong, only to create an even deeper pit for themselves to fall into) that I failed to see why he was an ideal choice to flesh out the world of Gotham City, and wayward billionaire, Bruce Wayne's blinding obsession with forging a better future, one criminal beating at a time. So when we at last come to the grand, sprawling final chapter in The Dark Knight Rises, one cannot help but feel like fresh bread, pulled apart at every corner.


Seven years after the events of The Dark Knight, Gotham has gone for years without any sign of the now outlawed Batman, who had secretly colluded with a mutually tormented Commissioner James Gordon ( Gary Oldman) into taking the blame for the deadly actions of Harvey Dent/Two Face, thereby allowing the police force to usher in a flourishing era in action against criminals. But the cracks in the facade they have created are beginning to show, as Gordon's life has taken a turn, while Wayne has seen himself become a bit of a legendary recluse. Matters spiral toward the inevitable, upon Wayne's first chance encounter with the alluring, yet formidable Selina Kyle/Catwoman (Anne Hathaway), which signals the coming of Bane, a mysterious, hulking mercenary whose designs on the city threaten to not only destroy it and its inhabitants, but also the spirit of its once great defender. Easily the most dangerous opposition of the series, and easily a terrible reminder of all that had come before. Now torn between Batman as symbol, and perhaps even guilt-fueled self-sacrifice, Wayne must once again take up the cape and cowl, even if it does mean dying to protect all he holds dear.


As mentioned, the film catches up with the now clearly spiritually brow-beaten duo remaining of the triumvirate established in the previous. And it is made pretty clear that regardless of their mutually saving the city throughout the series, the choices of Bruce Wayne remain clearly and wholly selfish. Whatever good  that could ever have come out of his decisions to fight crime fists first more often than not carry with them consequences that have left all within his very orbit broken and deeply changed, including Wayne himself, who's loss of Rachel Dawes in the previous has led to a life parallel with being something of a living corpse, hiding within the walls of the now rebuilt Wayne Manor. And yet, all he remained close to throughout his one-man crusade against crime and corruption have either been taken away, or compromised. His entire life could have easily provided practical solutions like supporting local concerns, and stopping crime at its source, but opted to fight it out with the symptoms. Even so, his legend is still something on the minds of many young people of Gotham, including rookie cop, John Blake (Joseph Gordon Levitt) who perhaps knows a great deal more than most. And yet these terrible threads of fate may very well be the best hope the city has once Bane and his (literally) underground army are discovered.



As a conclusion, The Dark Knight Rises is of gargantuan scale. Even by most spectacle standards, it is a truly startling achievement in that place always remains first with real locations, incredible sets, some phenomenal outdoor shooting work (one again by the always wonderful Wally Pfister), and intense action. One can see every penny spent on the production, and feel the weight of what Nolan is attempting. The core problems lie largely in the structure, and in how much of it lacks the manner of build and impact of the previous. Where The Dark Knight took grand risks by ramping up the madness of the Joker's reign until the viewer is sent bouncing from one section of the city to another, The Dark Knight Rises begins with this in mind from the getgo, and never lets up throughout its running time of two hours and forty five minutes. And as such, the first act feels a little on the jarring side, lacking a manner of grounding that could have helped the narrative later. Possibly the film's biggest misstep happens within the first major action sequence which leads to a decision so forced, that it rings hollow for a certain new character which ultimately leaves him with very little meat to work with by the end. Another unexpected issue here is a decidedly jokier tone  that was quite unexpected considering the often grim countenance of the previous. In a film that is clearly about the end of life, and the  end result of a life of selfish acts, it in many ways takes away from what should be a tightened, more intense experience. Despite all the grandness on display, the end result is surprisingly restrained.


So once we reach the halfway point, and much of the story seems well in gear, a lot of it feels like a matter of course rather than an actual series of twists and revelations. This surprisingly, is also much closer in tone to Batman Begins, which had the distinction of dancing wildly between "realistic" and openly cartoonish, with matters reaching a fever pitch regarding an energy source, and yes, a Doomsday Weapon so that we may have a ticking clock in place for the finale. Which leads one to believe that this is the Nolan brothers' attempt at doing a Michael Bay-style extravaganza. (If suddenly, echoes of The Rock come to mind, it isn't merely you.) The feeling that there were dozens of disparate ideas in mind, and that they were determined to get as many in there as possible is very present to the point that it at times feels like two movies smashed together resulting in periods where one cannot help but feel exhausted when one should feel energized for the bigger moments.


Thankfully, the performances, and still present sincerity in much of the film grants it the momentum to see matters through, even as it truly feels like a world coming to a fiery end. The always welcome Michael Caine's Alfred is especially heartwrenching, as a man at last at a breaking point. He has supported Mr. Wayne long enough, and can no longer stand by and watch his equivalent to a son lose his life to his obsession. Oldman's Gordon remains a shining beacon of humanity, while Gordon-Levitt's Blake continues this thread as a truly likeable cop with razor-sharp instincts and a large heart. It is in his arc that the film's soul truly lives and dies. Being among the first of the "batman era" generation, we have a chance to see the potential of Wayne's legacy, as well as what it could mean for future Gothamites. Also worth mentioning the terrific work of Marion Cotillard, Morgan Freeman, and Matthew Modine as Foley, a veteran cop with much to prove. But the real standout newcomer work to this franchise belong to Anne Hathaway's Kyle, and Tom Hardy's Bane. Hathaway's take on Catwoman is potent, angry, and demands her own film. It's a performance that shoulders a great deal of the weight and power  of everyperson in the piece. Her lot, the complete opposite of Bruce's, by growing up without privilege or stability represents balance to his life lived with money-borne answers. It has shaped her into a bit of a hardened survivor, and a silent champion of those carrying the city's heaviest burdens. And Hardy's Bane is a classical, baroque monster. Single-minded in his own drive toward pain and terror, his reign over Gotham City (and perhaps even Batman/Bruce) is palpable and utterly frightening. He is living absolution, and is the harbinger of the worst possible end for all involved. Even as the story momentum seems to flag at times, it's these memorable characterizations (something of a Nolan trait by this point) that remain irresistible.

Possible Spoiler Time

Considering much of the film's almost prescient use of the divide between "rich and poor", one would think that this is the bare essence of what Christopher and Jonathan Nolan's script was centered on. But what seems to be of greater concern to them here lies back in the origins of the Bat mythos itself - Labels. Duty. Designation. Our place in society, and our inherently human need to break free of this with regularity despite our addiction toward a semblance of order and responsibility. "Structure becomes your shackles" as one character says in one of the least subtle moments of an already unsubtle film. Every character feels bound by their designation, eager to free the inner human, burning inside for redefinition. And yet, Bruce Wayne cannot walk away from the oncoming of what seems to be his self-contructed personal apocalypse. Caught in a terrible gravity , he is the variable, surrounded by those seeking well past their present selves, eager for freedom. And in this sense, Batman , and the villains themselves are locked irrevocably in this death dance, primed to burn an entire population to the ground. So once the true plot is revealed in the breathless final act, and the music has reached a crescendo, and the landscape is a smoky hell on earth, the question of the importance of symbols, and the yearning for a life beyond are illuminated regardless of all the noise. All the while, the existence of the Batman has brought this about, and the film (just as the whole series has) never lets Bruce Wayne off the hook. This is the world his decisions throughout the films have helped create, and it is a horrific one. All the more satisfying to see Christian Bale's final turn in the role played as a man, broken down to the point that even his own body seems ready to be parted with. It is the dilemma of the symbol versus the man that takes us to the final pass of our journey, leading to what could have been a more rousing finish if Nolan had stayed true to all that had been pointing in the same direction. One could argue that it's within the film's final moments that Nolan buckles under the weight he has helped cast throughout all three installments. And for the last minutes to be what they are isn't necessarily a crashing disappointment, but it does feel like something of an apology for the oppressive madness of The Dark Knight. (something one should never apologize for) One might also argue that this yearning for something more lies square on Nolan, who possibly just wants to move on. There are indeed stretches where it feels as such.



And yet despite all of these gripes and occasional story issues (It's a script that feels in need of at least one more rewrite) , The Dark Knight Rises works best as a thrilling, yet deeply flawed epilogue to Nolan's Batman saga. Even when it threatens to crumble under the weight of its own absurdity, the character drama continues to shine through. And even regardless of this perhaps being the weakest of the three films(and possibly of Nolan's work), the series remains a staggering accomplishment of myth weaving, human drama, and philosophical debate disguised as popcorn entertainment. It's that rarest of comic-book based tales, one packed with thoughtfulness and genuine care-mental exhaustion be damned. And as final chapters go, one could do so much worse.

Blind Woman's Curse (1970) Movie Review

After spending three years in prison, former gang boss, Akemi Tachibana has returned to regain and protect what is hers, but in lieu of a terrible inkling. Plagued by dreams featuring a blood-hungered black cat, Akemi, while a confident and tough Yakuza leader, worries that her luck is to take some manner of a fall. And so matters come in waves as the rival Donbashi-gumi begin taking terrible shots at her clan. Only further adding to the melee of violence and tragedy, are the lives of many whom Tachibana touches from a tough do-gooder (Makoto Sato), a retired elder gangster and his sunny daughter (Yoko Takagi) who also work as proprietors of a local eating establishment. More ominous yet, is the arrival of a blind swordswoman with a terrible tale and a score to settle. Could a premonition truly be at work?

Not so easily summed up as even a simple narrative, Blind Woman’s Curse, not unlike so many films bearing the name of often controversial film icon, Teruo Ishii, is more about experience than plot. As much like an improvisational piece as it is often symbology-riddled, it is both refreshing, and at times disorienting. And even as Tachibana’s tale remains one of the classic yakuza revenge variety, there is an often freewheeling, borderline surrealist mind at work within the heart of it as it often wildly vacillates between standard storytelling, and even dreamlike excursions into old fashioned horror. Visions of hell haunt much of the story, as it delves closer and closer toward what seems to be Tachibana’s fate. It is as much a loopy haunted funhouse trip, as it is a simple tale of karmic retribution. Hell seems just a flirt away with some truly creepy elements from a nightmarish traveling fair, to some effectively eerie backgrounds toward the finale. Chock full of color, and theatrical tricks, it is an out-of-control piece that is more likely for the psychotronic set than perhaps even yakuza eiga nuts.

To even try to make sense of the film is akin to an exercise in futility, even as it attempts to weave a web of past and recent deeds, leading to a twist-packed finale. As Tachibana’s return to gang leader life is complicated by members on the inside plotting to betray her, outside forces are hard at work to make sure her return is but a brief one. It’s not long before betraying parties are revealed to be working for the local top contender in violent drug peddler, woman trafficking Donbashi. A man who seems unfazed at doing more than smearing names to get the job done. Almost immediately, bodies begin to pile up, and reputations are tarnished. And it’s bad enough being dogged by the fundoshi-sporting weirdo in Aozora and his lot, but the sleazy and conniving ways of Donbashi eventually push Akemi and cohorts into breaking vows, and diving headlong into a bloody confrontation with destiny that must be seen to be comprehended.  

Also noteworthy aside from the near assault-like psychedelia on display, is the initial starring role of one Masako Ota, who later became known as Meiko Kaji. More a preview of her own specific brand of stoic beauty, the film’s take on her character is that of one sure of her comeuppance. She is aware that something is indeed coming her way. And as a strong leader, is doing her best to lessen the storm damage that seems to be unavoidable. So when her ultimate rival comes in the form of blind swordmaster, Hoki Tokuda, who is in her own right an imposing presence, the film is at times at least attempting to make some manner of moralistic stance as both are primed to clash, and yet have so much in common. (Personally speaking, a whole movie featuring this character would have been more than enough great material to work with.) In all, Blind Woman’s Curse is akin to those classically anarchic drive-in pastiches of the past. But it also has with it tons of style to spare. Ishii may have let simple sense get away from him here, but it is no way a total deterrent. Great, mad fun.

Street Mobster (1972) Movie Review

The moment Okita found himself out of the joint, the world outside had changed dramatically, right down to even how gang life operated. Ten years had indeed done quite a bit to Japan, one wonders how a street tough like him could even remotely fit in. And in Kinji Fukasaku's brutal character study, it's all about things that could never be. Bunta Sagawara makes an indelible impression as a product of much more fist-to-face era in Post-War Japan at odds with the more ingrained reality of the late 1960s. With a main character who's constant sneer toward authority, and impossible to snuff rage at any and all around him, the audience can only wonder just how far the film is willing to go in regards to his inner savagery without cutting away to some semblance of safety. It's the chinpira drama that helped pave the way for Fukasaku's Yakuza Papers series to come to fruition, and it's a merciless one at that.

For those unfamiliar, Fukasaku's films became well known for their unflinching look at the outsiders, the wandering souls still reeling in the years after WWII, often into violent lives, filled disastrous decisions, and tragedy befalling even those nearest. Not unlike Blackmail Is My Business, the film takes a look at the life of one unwilling to easily fit into the new Japan, and ready to take on larger forces they are wholly unprepared for, and incapable of understanding. This time, instead of the Japanese governmental infrastructure, it is the hierarchy of the contemporary Japanese underworld, where allegiances are tenuous, and face is everything. Whereas many other filmmakers of the era often portrayed the gangster as something of a folk hero, Fukasaku was unafraid to call out a harsher reality to matters, often portraying his characters as conflicted, and even completely unsympathetic to a whole new generation of filmgoers. And Street Mobster does this with the grit and grime still fresh on its coattails decades later as Okita attempts to make a name for himself in a world simply not fashioned for him, despite what seems to be working for him in the moment (a place Okita only seems to live in, while simultaneously being locked in an endless time loop).

Practically programmed to rape and beat at will, Okita is poised to meeting his destiny by way of some bizarre turns during his one-man campaign to regain what he claims is his. Almost immediately, he is granted his own little gang of underlings who offer him a girl for the evening, only to the startling realization that his "gift" was amongst one of his many victims in the salad days. A country girl, now a prostitute, Kinuyo (Mayumi Nagisa) begins what can only be described as a tormented relationship with Okita after this chance encounter. At once deeply scornful of his terrible nature, and yet violently jealous when pushed aside, Kinuyo is in many ways not unlike him in that no matter the circumstance, they are inextricably self-destructive despite the potential surrounding them in a nation now ready to embrace something resembling a "normal" existence. All of this comes to a head when it is learned that the two largest power players on the streets are what stands between Okita and possible glory.

Enter Fukasaku's hidden gut punch in the form of rival gang leaders, now owning and running large business sections of the city, often with buildings overlooking the organic spoils of modern success. With the slightly still rough around the edges Takigawa running his gambling establishments et al on one side, and the cool-headed businessman, Yato (Noboru Ando) on the other within his glass tower. Quickly after essentially bailing the loose-cannon Okita on more than one occasion, Yato takes him under his wing, granting him a place within the organization to the behest of many around him. The now calm, collected leader sees a reflection of his more rough & tumble past in him, and sees potential despite all the nattering happening on both sides, clueless as to why he would give such a hopelessly two-bit sociopath such a shot. It is within the endless turmoil that occurs here, that allows Street Mobster to be more than merely another exercise in anti-hero melodrama, but rather a requiem for a Japan that has become something where the rage has been put on permanent boil, rather than made to face itself- to the detriment of all involved.

Bringing to life such a character study could have easily become something designed only for those eager to wallow in the muck of it, but Fukasaku, Sugawara and company make the film into a surprisingly potent human affair in that it somehow balances the anarchy of Okita's life with the lives that share it to startling effect. The director's signature freeze frames, disorienting action shots, and rapid editing are well intermingled with the often very busy blocking often making the frame a lively one from frame one to the last. And Sugawara's portrayal of an out-of-time loser is strangely compelling, not to mention iconic of a day when unbridled passion could get one far suddenly faced with a radically systemized world, ready to consume his energy whole in the name of progress. An easy film to dismiss for being too bleak, but ultimately far too potent to resist.

Hugo (2011) Movie Review

At this moment, I'm completely beside myself with joy, and maybe a little irritation at the very idea that not only did I catch this film weeks until release, but that there is only so much time remaining before this theatrical 3D event comes to an end. There is such a universe of loving craft to be shared within HUGO's heartfelt 127 minutes, that a simple one-off review from a simple blogger would only do it a fraction of service. As the film's marketing campaign completely failed to deliver; there is something of a completely different film, no doubt dodged intentionally. One can see a studio getting cold feet upon realizing that what manner of tapestry this master filmmaker has fashioned; it is a family-geared work of the most classical nature, complete with the wistful imagination and patience of those so clearly inspiring generations past. With the latest in technology, Martin Scorsese takes Brian Selznick's beautiful semi-biographical book, and composes a spectacular and sublime love letter to the power of not only film, but of human ingenuity as a healing force.

Set in a romanticized version of Paris in the early 1930s, little Hugo Cabret, the son of a clockmaker has recently lost his father, and has been surviving day to day, maintaining the clockworks of a large train station central to town. With no guardians, or school to contend with, his core struggle has been to finish repairing a mysterious find his father made in the days before his death. This rusty old automaton remains the final link between Hugo and his father, and with the parts he occasionally steals from a local toy booth run by an embittered old man, the feeling that a cycle could be closed by getting the machine to work. His daily fears of being apprehended not only by the old man, but of the station's dogged, yet simple-minded inspector begin to come to a head when he is finally caught attempting to steal a mechanical mouse. And it is within this event that he meets Isabelle, herself once an orphan, and now in the care of the old man, Papa Georges, and his wife, Mama Jeanne. A storybookworm in the extreme, Isabelle eventually begins to serve as a branching point between Hugo, and Georges when it is discovered that they both share pieces of a secret, one that could alter both lives forever.

Immediately, Scorsese's obsession to master what James Cameron had helped pioneer into almost cinema ghettodom  is made apparent with perhaps one of the most thrilling opening shots of any film, anywhere. We are not simply told the story through John Logan's solid prose, the director's eye, along with the ever terrific design work of Dante Feretti, we are thrust into Hugo's world with the kind of love and reverence that even AVATAR couldn't afford itself. In fact, one could go so far as to suggest that this is the film Cameron's work was meant to be; a epoch making crossroads charting & celebrating the evolution of visualized storytelling. And in that, it may surprise some to know just how disarmingly intimate the film is. With the cameras flowingly shadowing our central character's movements, we are given a solid geography of what Hugo's life has orbited around, and the sights he is privy to on a regular basis. (which also grants us more insight into one of the film's more endearing sentiments; everyone has a story.) So when it comes to his and Isabelle's discoveries, it does so within an unexpectedly small, yet somehow lush environment that offers volumes more to consider than an alien planet ever could. It is in the observational, that the film milks its greatest strengths, again owing great amounts to the filmmaking pioneers of the long past, an age when film was virtually inseparable from magic, and that risk, ingenuity and an enterprising spirit were at the forefront of capturing the stories and dreams of a world. It's that rare mesh of story and technique that makes for a virtuoso experience in how substance can be defined by style. Made all the more refined by Thelma Schoonmaker's brilliant as ever editing.

In the performance realm, HUGO is packed with terrific work from Asa Butterfield, who's sad-eyed work is a terrific analogue for the director, and in turn the audience. Once again, Chloe Grace Moretz continues to impress as the adventurous counterpart who becomes key in the tale's engine. Her growing importance in the story, makes for an engrossing bait and switch theme-wise, and is only made greater by her sincerity in the role. Also great fun is Sacha Baron Cohen as Inspector Gustav, who's bumbling fool eventually becomes a complex & sympathetic extension of what is happening with the film's throughline. What could so easily have been what the marketing had suggested, becomes another arrow in the movie's arsenal, and it is effective. But the truest triumph of the film belongs to Ben Kinsgley and Helen McCrory in the roles of Papa Georges and Mama Jeanne, characters that truly evoke complete histories in almost miraculously short running time. Both shine so beautifully in these roles, that it become hard to not see them as the two they eventually are revealed to be.

Strangely enough, the sentiments brought about here, are not terribly far from what Scorsese had explored in the more adult-oriented Shutter Island, where inventiveness & patience run hard into harsh realities at the cost of forward progression. Themes of not only seeking self-purpose, but of how all good works fulfilling a human need flow like water throughout the narrative. These films embrace not so much technology, but of those seeking to heal and change their worlds through it. Unlike so many filmmakers who have come and gone over the decades, it is heartening to see such a legend embrace such changes by reminding viewers of the importance found in making peace and seeking solutions rather than avoiding past pains. In many instances, HUGO can be seen as an "antidote" response to Shutter Island, where hope thrives in the young and new, as well as respect & love to those that have come before. It is perhaps the most beautiful love letter to stories and film since Cinema Paradiso, and now my irritation has slipped into sadness because more people simply must experience this in the manner for which it was crafted. A unabashedly sincere, bravura performance.

I Saw The Devil (2010) Review

After his fiancee(Oh San-ha) is horrifically attacked & eventually murdered by a psychopath (Choi Min-Sik) one snowy night, a secret service agent (Lee Byung-hun) with a few tips from his beloved's retired chief father, takes leave to embark on a mission of pure wrath upon the man responsible. And what we have as a result is possibly the end of the "Korean Revenge Film". Helmed with almost as much maniacal glee as the film's antagonist, South Korean genre-masher Kim Jee-Woon returns partially returns to his grit & grue roots as I Saw The Devil (Akmareul boattda) makes a go at a subgenre that perhaps never should have gone anywhere after the films of Chan-wook Park. But films such as Bong Joon-ho's spectacular MOTHER, and countless others have shown that there is indeed something that has been brewing within the South Korean consciousness that allows these films to both have the occasional deep impact, as well as resonate with so many beyond its shores. And aside from the obvious (nazis) what makes the most ideal moral pin cushion than a sleazy serial murderer, pray ask?

As Soo-hyun finally tracks down the villain (within the film's first 40 minutes, making the film seem to be working in reverse of the typical psycho thriller), and thwarts his attempts to claim another victim. The ensuing confrontation, while spectacular, ends with a twist leaving Soo-hyun able to track the suddenly-freed monster, Kyung-chul wherever he goes as well as hear his every word. Swearing that the killer's woes are merely beginning, the film in high gear takes on another element that I neglected to mention...the film is also a comedy. That's right. For those perhaps wincing at this idea must consider that director Jee-woon is no stranger to pitch-black comedy.(the criminally underseen Quiet Family was the inspiration for Takashi Miike's The Happiness Of The Katakuris. This also starred Min-Sik, whom I haven't seen this rotund since that 1998 debut for Jee-woon.) Even in the scenes prior to this game, the film is shameless in its willingness to make a shock gag. This is perhaps the film's most unexpected element considering the subject matter. Now again, even Park's films dabbled in the gallows for his films, but never to such a hyperbolic level. It becomes such a tonal tightrope act that goes for the establishment of a certain style, but it rarely works beyond the initial setup as Soo-hyun begins toying with the hapless Kyung-chul every time he attempts to prey on his instincts. At times, it only felt appropriate to call the film Cockblocker The Motion Picture, but considering international release, the title they settled on works just fine.

So in retrospect, the two mainstream H-town films I can quickly think of to compare with in regards to thematics, are the core ideas behind Chris Nolan's The Dark Knight, as well as Scorsese's rendition of Cape Fear (which is an obvious influence. Min-Sik's slicked back hair and flare for colorful shirts are a fun nod to DeNiro.). Asking the questions of how far can an ethically person go before one falls too deep into the abyss they obsessively are staring down, becoming something possibly worse than the problem that led them here. And in this equation, Soo-hyun is an interesting return performer for Jee-woon as he plays the film almost rail straight as a broken shell, an obsessed violence machine unable to come down from his despair. Even as his revenge seems to be making headway in finding the man responsible, it never becomes enough to just kill him. The game becoming almost like a drug. And with his training, gadgets, and his almost Jack Bauer-like veneer, it is almost as if Byung-hun is channeling a performance for a completely different film. Even as his at-one-time to be father-in-law, Police Squad Chief Jang (Jeon Kuk-hwan) and sister-in-law plead for Soo-hyun to stop all of this, there is clearly no end in sight for his designs. Now for a film so ready to tackle what can ostensibly be more challenging, and thought-provoking, the film opts to careen from rollercoaster bump to rollercoaster bump.

Granted, all of this is also obviously by design as his quarry in Min-sik is so unequivocally off-the-rails insane, that he in end sum is everything Soo-hyun can never be. Min-Sik, in his first major film in years embodies the beastly Kyung-chul with his expected energy and panache. He's part Max Cady, part Anton Chigurh, with the rest, pure Min-sik. The character has no qualms about who he hurts. And as the film tinkers with asking what made him this way, both Jee-woon and Min-sik go out of their way to keep us guessing, whether there is any reason there at all or not. He is a walking void of death & destruction. Even as our troubled protagonist struggles to find the one weak spot in order to generate the greatest pain from his prey, he is overlooking the obvious in ways that are meant to provoke what Jee-woon hopes to be the more rational audience.

The often common, antithetical argument intact, these revenge films reflect a sort of purging of years of unresolved strife, not to mention an unyielding hint of paranoia.

Which all would be fine, if this film seemed to know where it was headed. As things begin to heat up between our two, the film takes on a decidedly ultra-bleak comedic running gag that implies that in Jee-woon's world, Kyung-chul is far from the only sadistic murderer-type to roam the countryside. In one of the film's more truly jaw-dropping moments, this is established in no uncertain terms, and returns to this well soon after for a wildly unnecessary narrative cul-de-sac in an already drawn out second act. While all of this is beautifully executed by Jee-woon, and his crew, the film continually wants to not only have its cake and eat it, it wants the whole darn shop with it. By the finale, everything seems all too exhausted for any kind of satisfactory resolution. Perhaps this was intended, but it really feels like that second act really took the momentum out before any kind of home stretch. So we have a film that essentially blows its wad far too early, and leaves one ready to be done with these films. It really is time to move on.


                               Jee-woon, now considered an internationally recognized filmmaker of considerable talent, and almost hot off the success of his Raiders Of The Lost Ark meets The Man With No Name saga, The Good The Bad The Weird is now in a position to pretty much make any movie he wishes it seems.(my personal favorite still being A Tale Of Two Sisters) And the idea that THIS was the film he had in mind may only make one think of just how rough that previous shoot, and post period was. Because it's pretty clear from this film that a volcano of rage had been lying dormant for sometime, just itching for the moment to blow. It's the only way one can reconcile with what we have here. And before one imagines that I checked out with the film, or am ready to dismiss this as a completely sadistic misfire, I would like to remind folks that not too long ago I gave favorable reviews to several truly dark French horror films in the past. In fact, I occasionally enjoy a good endurance test. Nothing wrong with a good, ferocious gut-check once in a while. And while I Saw The Devil flirts with some of humanity's worst attributes to mixed results, it is still a technical triumph. Few films today feel as new as South Korea's, and Jee-woon's sandbox is a truly beauful sandbox- even if the box is littered with viscera & troubling ideas.

Some Thoughts Regarding Toy Story 3....

Toy Story 3 will make one believe that trilogies can make perfection.


And while I'm sure there'll be a few out there willing to make this curmudgeon eat a little crow for that slice of hyperbole, but I can't really find a more subtly accurate description for Lee Unkrich's fitting swan song to PIXAR's signature franchise. But more than that, it was a franchise borne from a most unlikely milestone. 1995's Toy Story was the now-legendary studio's claim to fame, and a more than brilliant means to tap an entire cross-section of generations by way of a most universal premise. To imagine a world populated by sentient toys and their lives unbeknownst to their owners is still by and large a stroke of conceptual genius brought to life by then PIXAR pioneer, John Lasseter. And having seen all of these films in their opening weekends, it is no secret that more than a PIXAR fan, I'm a huge Toy Story lover.

So seeing how TS3 ranks alongside its predecessors prior to seeing it, I must admit to being more than a little suspicious. Since Disney acquired PIXAR after years of relative independence, it was at a point when the studio's output began to waver a little for me. The thought that they had suddenly begun to go back on their promise of not being "in the sequel business" hurt a little of my respect. Wall-E & Up! Notwthstanding, there was something brewing within the ranks that made me concerned that the very announcement of a third Toy Story film was something to be feared. How does one even consider topping two terrific family films that helped break the mold for modern fare & introduced the world to the possibilities of fully digital cinema? After the thematic upgrade of the second film, it only felt natural that the world of Andy(John Morris)'s toys would continue on without another film. And adding ten years of film trend evolution, it almost seemed destined to be little more than one last cash grab before the new PIXAR is to become something a little less cavalier, and closer in tone to ever safe Dreamworks.

Thankfully, none of this has come to pass, and the film is a beautiful summation of not only the film series itself, but a bold allegory for a world changing. From the ashes of the "look at what we've wrought" darkness of Wall-E, Toy Story 3 handles both the sorrows and joys of letting go.

Transition is all over this film. 

From the central plot involving a now 17 year old Andy's transitioning into college, and the reaction of his childhood toys now negected in a sealed toy box, possibly awaiting a lifetime in the attic. (or worse, the landfill) What in many ways seems to be the skeleton of a typical Toy Story film is cleverly twisted into an exciting and at times emotionally punishing mediation on a world divided by the simplest of mistakes.

And that's all it is...a mistake.

The film also considers opening the canvas toward new colors of thought, doing away with even ideas that perhaps even the show's creators hadn't considered before. So that in the end, it feels as if the minds at PIXAR are looking to embrace ideas once foreign to them in hopes of inspiring themselves.

So even more than letting go...The film is embracing new worlds of possibility. 

Whether we are following Woody as he has been chosen to be the only toy to accompany Andy in his dorm, or Buzz, Jessie, Bullseye, The Potatoheads, Rex & Ham, as they have been donated to a deceptively inviting day care center, (With the attraction of children to play with too powerful to resist) the film stretches the original "lost-toys on a mission home" premise to its most logical conclusion.

When home is a person who is leaving, then where is home anyway? The invisible bond between us and those that granted us warmth in quiet times & great freedom of imagination is rekindled with an added dash of the bittersweet that comes with new chapters in life.

And yet it's the bonds that we have grown to have with these characters that help deliver some unexpectedly potent scenes mixed within the already proven action acumen. In Toy Story 3, the action is as great as ever, but it is the drama of the larger dramatic questions that give it it's juice.

Pitch-perfect performances all around from the original cast, including Tom Hanks, Tim Allen, Joan Cusack, Don Rickles, & even great turns by Ned Beatty, Michael Keaton, as well as a returning Wallace Shawn, John Ratzenberger, & Jodi Benson. Also an affecting as hell final score by series regular, Randy Newman takes fulll advantage of the wrap-up proceedings leading to a most impressive of curtain calls.

So many great moments that would be a waste to spoil for anyone. All I can use to best wrap this post up is to posit what it is that most impressed me aside from the already spectacular package brought on by Unkrich, Lassiter &  folks...

 I love that we see the ultimate expression of how division happens, usually at the hands of someone who while under most circumstances seems like a pretty on the level person, creating an environment of fear & neglect in order to stave off the hurt of abandonment. This has been hinted at before, most notably in 2, but never this clearly. What could easily pass for a tale for our current global situation in metamorphosis, the film followed a new PIXAR short titled Day & Night, which also beautifully illustrates the potential change we all have within. Change is never that far away, and if there is anything that can clock those changes best from our collective childhoods..it's the things that we have trouble imagining living without.

Toys included.

Love Thy Neighbor,Then Kick his Ass(Kick-Ass 2010 Review)

Call it the price of a questioning nature...

As initially mentioned, with roomie in tow, we ventured deep into Beverly Hills of all places to delve into edu-cultural hot spot known only as the Simon Wiesenthal Center/Museum Of Tolerance. Within the copper-colored walls of the structure were reminders of man's simplest tendency to fear & judge based solely upon first impressions. We are not merely given the guided tour, but are also allowed to wander the darkened halls rife with multimedia screens featuring fascinating insights into mankind's greatest folly, as well as the efforts of those who seek higher roads to understand their fellows. It was both an invigorating refresher course on many of my own personal journeys toward mutual understanding, as well as an interesting study of how things alter with time. As much as I find places like this to be necessary in an age of splintering social revolution, it is also important to consider the very nature of second-hand morality. Perhaps it is merely me, but I become skeptical when faced with a video screen sharing notions of oversimplified rights and wrongs featuring the words of men like Hitler & Stalin. Which isn't to say that the acts of many of the world's greatest tyrants weren't monstrous, but rather than history should also be open to the possibility that as the saying goes, "the road to hell is paved with good intentions."

To sit down at a table in a video room can be an interesting example of what I'd like to call "controlled conditioning", something I'd never considered when discussing this place. At tables, seating in groups of six with voting buttons at your command when asked questions by the woman's voice emanating from the video screen concerning our thoughts on certain matters displayed on video made for an interesting observation. The most prominent that comes to mind when being asked about our thoughts on the many methods of child exploitation in the world today.

We were given four buttons with which to vote with, lettered A - D. Naturally, whatever we voted for would be calculated, and then played back via the screen. When first asked about how many children do we think are sold into slavery every year, the numbers voted for were nearly unanimous. Over 300,000 was apparently correct. But what troubled me was when I'd make my selection, another button on the panel would glow in approval.

Needless to say, I was suspicious. But what did I know? It wasn't as if I knew exactly how these devices worked anyway.

It didn't feel quite so suspicious upon entering what was called "Point Of View Diner" Which was literaly designed like a cross between the soda shop in Back To The Future, and some kind of digital learning facility complete with touch screen renditions of Diner Table Jukebox Selectors. With each attendee, we were privy to the following video which gave us an interesting dilemma done in the style of a local news report...

Prom Night ends horribly when a car carrying high school football star "Chris", and his date, "Melanie". Chris is declared dead at the scene while Melanie ends up with her legs trapped in the vehicle. Worse yet is the younger victim in a car they had collided with, landing 12 year-old, "Danielle" in critical condition. When Chris's mother naturally declares on camera that her son should not be dead, and was an upstanding, model student, which we soon discover isn't true. In fact, Chris has had a history of drinking, and has even shown up to class representation under the influence. Compounding matters is the inevitable death of little Danielle, and the bombshell that a local liquor store , with a history of lenient policies on teenage drinking had possibly sold the fatal rounds to Chris, leading to his mother's onslaught of lawsuits.

Which is what leads us to our central dilemma....To vote in order of responsibility for this tragedy.

The Options:

a) Chris

b) Melanie

c) Chris' Mother

d) The Liquor Store

After a 30 second wait, these were the initial results on a scale of 1 - 4 (1 being most responsible)

4.Melanie

3.Chris' Mother

2.Chris

1. The Liquor Store


Okay....I'm not so sure about anyone else, but I can't help but see this as pretty telling...

Which leads me into all the furor over Matthew Vaughn's taboo-bursting adaptation of Mark Millar & John Romita's ode to costumed anti-heroes , Kick-Ass. As certain critics and folks were inevitably going to raise their pitchforks in protest over the over-the-top violence displayed by not only a fifteen-year-old wannabe superhero, but by a scene stealing, hard-cussing 11 year old junior vigilante with a penchant for blades. It's just one of those things that many of us have always known as anathema to Hollywood. We knew from the moment there was talk of this being made into a film, that noone in town would give this script five pages upon this discovery. It's the kiss of death for your pitch. And yet, there have been instances of this taboo broken in films done outside of Hollywood that have indeed been successful. (Battle Royale, anyone?) Which isn't to say that this can't be seen as morally bankrupt to many. It is something that has long remained a final frontier for genre film, so naturally it took some pretty dedicated collaboration, and outside financing to make this unlikely film a rousing reality. And while it isn't something that even James Cameron would consider, Kick-Ass is here to stay, and has a vital place in the canon of L'Enfante terrible cinema. It is the movie equivalent of good, trashy punk shows; rife with defiance, questionable ideas, and an all out dangling wang in the face of mainstream society.



Which isn't to say that it is in any way a great film, but rather a devilishly entertaining dance with anarchy, with no brakes & even less humanity.

Kick-Ass follows the misadventures of fifteen-year-old Dave Lizewski(Aaron Johnson), as he goes from invisible loser to media phenom when he takes the crazy idea of becoming a homemade superhero to absurd heights. Brutal injuries, and a growing online reputation later, he stumbles across the truly dangerous father/daughter duo of professionals, Big Daddy(Nicolas Cage) & Hit Girl (Chloe Moretz) as they crusade against New York's vicious underworld kingpin, Frank D'amico (Mark Strong). Starting from atypical comic-loving dweeb, to this is no doubt a jarring shift to this boy's life. His previously nonexistent love life is soon thrown for a loop when his school crush begins seeking interest (under misunderstanding that he's apparently a homosexual). The boy's dive into the seedy world of vigilante justice & online heroism reaches an apex when the actions of BD & HG raise the attention of D'amico's brutal crime syndicate. And as imagined by the trailers, what follows is a frenetic, bloody, and irresponsible barrage of film rivaling anything from the salad says of Lloyd Kaufman.

And yet, this is where the film goes from unexpected sleeper success story, to another rote case in going through the motions. My ultimate problems with the film are when Jane Goldman & Matthew Vaughn's script never finds that raw balance that is so necessary for a film this rebellious to truly work beyond its time. And while many of the performances are in fact quite fun (Cage's Adam West-esque pausing are hysterical retribution for years of terribly routine roles), it is the audaciously charming performance of Moretz that devours much of the film. And a 50 million dollar price-tag never conceals the fact that the film feels like a more exploitative take on the superhero film instead of a subversive one. Actions are never as impactful, nor as sharp as they could be given the premise. We see damage, the hint of the psychological alongside the physical, and then *poof*, forgotten in favor of more middling comedy. And while it can be commended that much of Millar's original story is here in all it's wild glory, it never attempts to take it as far as movies can go. In an era where a PG-13 rated superhero film can raise the bar for literacy, acidic wit, and storytelling, Kick-Ass never feels as dangerous as it should.

And yes, I said it should have gone further. Because much like bungee-jumping, dieting, or even drinking, we are a culture based upon challenge. We thrive upon seeking the untouched. And even as kids, it can be said that the contemporary has a yen for the forbidden. This is inherent in the young despite what so many adults would rather have us believe. And no amount of self-blinding is going to undo this. Art,..yes..even trashy art has value in the human experience. There's little to preserve but common sense in a world that is ever changing. At best, Kick-Ass is an alcohol-soaked litmus test for the angry child in all of us, and at worst, an indulgence best served with less sugar & more gray matter.

Vengeance (2009) Review

It's far from anything remote to say that the artistic arc of one Johnnie To has been one of HK cinema's great hard lefts to greatness. Starting up within good 'ol Tsui Hark's camp of madmen in the 90s with the camp-soaked Heroic Trio, and inevitably becoming one of Asia's foremost cinema stylists has been something of cult legend. His journeys into a noir vision of the east's criminal element, and beyond have had the kind of artful eye that is capable of rising above even middling material. Which is perfect for Vengeance, which could have easily been a lesser film in another's hands.

French rock legend, Johnny Hallyday plays Costello, a restaurant owner who's rarely seen daughter is the survivor of a savage home attack upon her husband and children in Macau. New to the geography, but bristling with rage, employs the aid of a cadre of professional hit-men, led by the ever-great Anthony Wong. But in the hunt for those responsible, the lines between Costello and his killer charges soon resemble one anothers, leading everyone to question, just who is this mysterious chef anyway?

Again, with a synopsis like that, it's easy to dismiss this as late night movie-time fodder, but with To at the helm, we are host to some stunning imagery & mood as both camps of killers lock horns in a game that has some oft-unbreakable rules. It is the life of those who take them that are the main focus of the piece, and the sacrifices to self that it entails hovers over the cast like a shroud. And as the film's larger scope than is normal for a To film, it is rife with gorgeous action, cityscapes, and interiors that invoke a kind of ghost world aura that these men inhabit. To, Hallyday, and Wong are fully aware of the kind of film that is at play here, and milk it for everything it's worth. Also in on the wild proceedings are Simon Yam as a criminal boss, and Ip Man's Lam Ka-Tung as one of Wong's crew.

Also of note are the blistering shootout scenes that are amped to absurd levels with a terrific combo of no incidental scoring in these scenes, and a powerful sound mix, creating a tension that is truly nerve-busting.


And yet even as all of this sounds great at the offset, it is still clearly To's precision-based direction that is at front and center with this film as the story takes some unexpected turns in the third act. Even when some of the decisions don't work altogther, it's the attention to Hallyday and his journey toward the final showdown that make it work. Taken for what it is, Vengeance is a beautiful noir actioner that lives and breathes atmosphere if not effective drama.