Dawn Of The Planet Of The Apes (2014) Is Genre At Its Most Important

Division between background and culture. Belief in the ability to overcome such division. The myth of the known other.  Our lesser selves, desperate for simple answers. The allure of technological solutions at the cost of fellow beings. Future generations physically and philosophically hanging in the balance. An abyss that threatens all when gravity becomes far too much to withstand.  We see this on every news source, every third or fourth tweet, hear about it through friends and family. A seemingly endless wave of hate, coupled with escalation by way of ever advancing death machines. These are at the heart of this weekend's big theatrical release, and I am still reeling from its effects.


Time for a big admission: Despite the surprise love many have for Rupert Wyatt's Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes (2011), I still find it to be a competent, but often hobbled first entry in this new generation of installments to the classic franchise. While it does so much to remove the distaste experienced while viewing the much lesser Tim Burton retelling of 2001, it often feels constructed by committee, and suffers from some of the more egregious cases of fan pandering imaginable. The shining success of Rise, comes from the character work, especially in Andy Serkis's portrayal of future ape icon, Caesar. Watching him grow from lab chimp, to family member, to leader of a simian revolution was a marked improvement. And one that connected well enough to start the tale from a perfectly understandable place of kinship between hyper-intelligent apes, and the humankind which will inevitably tilt over in monkey favor. Gripes of annoying wall to wall references aside, Rise remains a surprising prequel with enough dramatic groundwork for an even greater story.


Enter Dawn Of The Planet Of The Apes.


Ten years after the events of Rise, Caesar and his surviving society of apes have now nestled deep into the woods overlooking San Francisco, and have created a functioning civilization far from what remains of humanity after the so-called "Simian Flu"(the human-made ALZ-113) all but wipes them out completely. Catching up with Caesar and his people, we are introduced to them during a hunting party, seeking food when it becomes clear that his leadership has become a foundation upon which all apes could co-exist. "Ape Not Kill Ape" In fact, when Caesar is asked about his feelings on his human upbringing, he claims to miss them from time to time, but feels that they are but a memory. Humans have become a footnote in their history. That is, until Caesar's son, Blue Eyes and his friend Ash (son of the first film's Rocket) are found by a small group of humans near the foot of their mountain. A shot rings out, and certainty is blasted away, as it comes to light that the remaining survivors of the Simian Flu apocalypse are in fact living within the ruins of the city, armed, and afraid.

Led by a once family man named Dreyfus (Gary Oldman), the remnants of SF humans are tattered, strained, and desperate. Low on gas powered energy, and portable tech, Dreyfus and company seek to reach the local dam in the hills in hopes of making contact with any remaining human outposts. Naturally, the ape society is situated perfectly between these two points of life. The mentioned gunfire comes from the hand of Carver(Kirk Acevedo), one of many ready to draw a gun at what he sees to be the source of his life's misery. He is not alone, as we learn that many in the human compound, including Dreyfus, see apes as the very cause of all that has befallen humankind. A shared lack of faith leads some toward a violent resolution should the apes not wish for human intervention within their young world in the mountains. Not all in the initial group encounter are as terrified of the almost speech-capable ape society. Malcolm (Jason Clarke) and a few others see the apes as special, and likely capable of reason. So when Caesar sees reason to quell the tension among his own, the sentiment of fear lives on in the form of Koba, a bonobo, who in the first film displayed scars of years of mistreatment at the hands of human scientists. It is in this ingrained tension between both species that drives Dawn toward something far more prescient than a mere AVATAR-esque tale of moral oversimplification.


The addition of Matt Reeves into the Apes fold, is an inspired, and proven choice here as his work with a script by Rise's Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver (rewrites by Mark Bomback) harkens to the best moments from the original, with a sense of clarity that is deeply modern and affecting. The initial half hour is extraordinarily unlike typical blockbuster fare, and is so patient with character work, that it becomes far more exciting to know where each one is coming from by merely observing mannerisms. Confident mastery of visuals, performance, score (Michael Giacchino at his understated best)and an incredible sense of dread seeps through every pore of the setup, making it one of the more distressingly beautiful ones ever executed. We fully know who everyone is, we know the stakes, and we know..that none of this can end well.



As hinted at, Dawn also takes an almost Dark Knight route and surpasses it, in that it never lets either side off the hook. For all of Caesar's passion for understanding between ape and human, there is much for him to still learn as apes like Koba cannot see past humanity's terrible tendencies. And for Malcolm and his family, a need to see their faith through whereas Dreyfus and Carver see only a threat. Paradoxes inherent in both camps, only made worse by the revelation that the human compound is carrying within it an armory capable of all out war. The trust of an open hand versus the swift justice of an automatic rifle. The film is far more concerned with the nature of humankind versus its own fears. It even goes so far as to explore what happens when the words of peace can be reappropriated in the name of conflict. How easily we forget. And how easily we can so easily write off the other in the name of returning to a life lived in blissful ignorance of others. As if that ever guaranteed lasting inner peace. Much like how superhero works like X-Men attempt to evoke mental imagery of classic schisms such as those between Malcolm X and Dr. Martin Luther King, we finally have a big budget film willing to more clearly explore the allure of violent retribution over a long road to peace.

A push button solution. A trigger for happiness.

We can talk here about how impressively constructed a great deal of this really is. How magnificent the imagery plunges its ways into the mind long after viewing the film. How astounding the apes are, and how beautiful their fur reacts to natural phenomenon. How both Andy Serkis and Tony Kebbell(Koba), with the help of WETA, and various artists convey the best and worst in us in ways that even most human acting fails to encompass. How our kids are often trapped,and occasionally cursed by the prejudices and fears of our parents. How the inevitable battle between human and ape is the stuff of nightmares. How the film offers up the best parable for conflicts that are happening miles away from us as media outlets often take merely one side, never considering that both to all sides truly want similar things. This is a blockbuster with a greater deal on its mind than most, and it expresses them with conviction and clarity we simply don't get in many places outside of literature.

It has been years since a studio release did this to me, and I cannot wait to experience it again. Dawn Of The Planet Of The Apes, is that rare example of what big genre film is capable of being. It is a modern allegory of often shattering impact, and I cannot recommend it more.

Tsukamoto Revisited: GEMINI (1999) A Prophet Goes Mainstream

As previously mentioned, the filmed works of Shinya Tsukamoto are by and large concerned with the paradoxical nature of the "successful" japanese person, versus their innermost selves who are seemingly being dragged behind. So when given the chance to explore this conflict with a slightly larger budget than ever before, his first foray into vibrant color is ironically set in the days prior to the advent. Loosely based upon a tale by the legendary Edogawa Rampo, GEMINI tells the story of Meiji era doctor Yukio Daitokuji (Masahiro Motoki), and his growing divide between his devotion to his practice, and to the powerful of the community. Seemingly unfazed by pride and disdain for those lesser in social stature, his charmed life as an heir to a respected physician is suddenly made hell by way of a malevolent doppelganger. And all the while, the mystery behind his beautiful amnesiac wife (Ryo) finds itself key to the storm. His denying of the poor as plague threatens to harm all throughout the region summons up secrets thought to have been buried in the name of the doctor's success. And as matters spiral, it becomes clear that the worlds of Rampo and Tsukamoto might very well be cut from the same cloth.


His world shattered, and now cast out of his own home, the doctor comes to the revelation that this double is vying for his wife, and with possible good reason. While languishing for a return to his life from the bottom of a long abandoned well, Daitokuji must not only contend with a double hellbent on usurping his life as a Tokyo doctor and husband, but of some truly disturbing facts about the world he and his family struggled to create. Beginning with a bizarre stench that begins to hover over his practice, and eventually the death of his secret-bearing parents, the doctor's place in the nature of community is placed headlong into a funhouse of mirrors scenario where nature was never far from reclaiming what pride had sought to cut away. 


The mystery and fury behind the tale feels very much like a tailor-made prequel to Tsukamoto's film output. His direct phrasing regarding Daitokuji and his relationship with his wife is a perfect seed for the cybernetic nightmares to come in the 1990s. We are given time to take in the growing divide occurring between the rich and poor, and the attitudes that pervade. Just enough to imply that Rin has the outsider's view, which plays heavily into the disruptions that begin to avalanche over the course of the story. Tsukamoto takes great advantage of playing with time and perspective without much of the hard-edged experimentation of his earlier films. And even so, his trademark handheld imagery and post film ADR work keeps matters feeling that indie aura. Especially unique to this period, is the lush color work which was a bold move. As if the world were a more lively place before greed and entitlement overtook the land, bleeding the color out. Acted as if part of an old world play, the broad gestures of Motoki, Ryo, Tadanobu Asano, and the rest of the cast embody the colorful landscape of the film in the spirit of a nightmarish traveling band of performers not unlike the circus we experience within the story. Tsukamoto understands his roots. And considering the release year (amidst the burgeoning J-Horror boom), there certainly was a yearning for implanting an origin story for contemporary terrors.

And judging from GEMINI, that terror is part and parcel with humankind.  

Snowpiercer (2013) Film Review

There are those moments when the global political climate has become so polarized that film become something of a commenting agent on the nature of social balance, often to the detriment of actual substance and/provocation. In recent years, this has come in the form of numerous big budget offerings such as The Dark Knight Rises(2012), The Hunger Games(2012), and Tom Hooper's Les Miserables (also 2012). Films flirting with ideas of revolution, often to middling, and often pandering results that speak to a more established worldview. Which is why with great joy and relief that Bong Joon-ho's first western-style feature ranks amongst the very best of its kind. And I say this understanding just how troubling such an opinion could be. But as it stands, SNOWPIERCER does for modern allegorical science fiction what it did for many of the best during the strife-ridden 1970s. A wild, weird fever poem that comes out of the gates swinging with heavy rusted metal in its hands, refusing to let go of the fight.

Right onto the bitter end.


Based upon the graphic novel series, Le Transperceneige by Lob, Rochette, and Legrand, we are thrust headlong into an earth subsumed by a new ice age after an ecological cure-all for global warming backfires. The remains of humanity are now populating a fully self sustaining locomotive which travels the frozen globe over the course of a year. And civilization has resumed its old world habits as the rich and powerful maintain the front, "sacred" engine of the train, while the rest toil in desolation in the rear cars. Seventeen years of this existence has sown seeds of revolution amongst the tail dwellers before, but Curtis Everett (a thoughtful, solid Chris Evans) has a plot in mind which threatens to go further than any previous revolt. But in order to do this, Everett and comrades must enlist the services of former engineer Namgoong Minsoo, a convict with extensive understanding of the train's design and security systems..and his equally loopy daughter, Yona (played by Bong Joon-ho veterans, Song Kang-ho, and Go Ah-Sung, again playing family). The deal is made by way of a shared addiction to a dangerous hallucinogenic drug being distributed to the pair in small doses each gate they open.


After years of living as "freeloaders" to the elites of the locomotive, living off of mysterious food product, and scraping for what amount of comfort and space possible, Curtis and friends undertake what is mythically a bare fisted journey through the ranks of civilization as the powers that be struggle to maintain the long established order. In the guise of the ever prim and frankly, over-the-top Mason (played with great relish by favorite, Tilda Swinton), strikes against the order have normally found themselves sufficiently snuffed out. But alas, Curtis and company prove themselves time and again. Despite this, a breathless game of not-so-magical doorknobs ensues as the rebellion finds that their mythical world is far stranger and terrifying than ever imagined. Even as they move forward car by car, Curtis' hopes to install respected elder, Gilliam (John Hurt) as the engine's new representative are put to great test. This is perhaps a good place as any to admit that the structure of SNOWPIERCER does such a surprising job of fulfilling so many important character beats in careful, but unusual doses as the journey becomes increasingly grueling. And yet, director Bong, cast and crew never let up on the world building and tension throughout the piece. Many often simple rules of storytelling are defied early on, but are rewarded by way of unexpected strokes of personality later. Strokes that are often the earmarks of an auteur ready to play in this larger, more expressive canvas. The director is aware of the dark dream he is carving together here, and it's both an alien, and understandably human one.


Seeking to overthrow the order of the train in hopes of liberating what remains of humankind is at the core of our heroes' mission, but to know what lies at the end entices with an unerring dread. Complicating their journey ahead, are the loss of two young children belonging to two of the would-be rebels(Octavia Spencer and Ewen Bremner). The story tightens its grip rather aggressively, and plays upon numerous notions of inequality and exploitation, as our characters face frightening enemies, experience sunlight for the first time, not to mention view the world left behind. (where all are told that it is a hellscape, guaranteeing death for those who choose to escape the confines of the train) The painterly nature of the entire film is challenged by such small and confined quarters. And yet somehow each realm represents a new rung on the societal ladder. Considering the original controversy between Joon-ho, and the Weinstein's over the length of the film for US audiences, it is incredibly hard to imagine what would warrant edits. There doesn't seem to be any additional fat on this bone. The thoughts and events on display show little to no reason for additional cuts, and the final film works despite what first time viewers might assume was a rushed opening.


Stories of the train/society's great creator, Wilford (Ed Harris) is hinted at throughout, adding more to the mystery behind the creation and maintenance of this enduring machine. And the road to Wilford is a harsh, costly one that underlies phrases dispersed throughout the film regarding precise balance, controlled numbers, and a need to maintain places in the set hierarchy. The have-nots languish in near Holocaust-like trappings, littered with filth and roaches, and the haves are served regularly to the points of absurdity. The selected few young who are born on the train are served doses of canned education regarding the machine as a savior, and Wilford the unseen, divine benefactor. All within the guise of "natural order". With Mason and her gallery of near fanatical weirdos protecting the train's wealth, we are guests to a surrealist's vision of our daily world, granting us a large scale vision that is effectively nightmarish. The "sacred engine", is what it is due to triumphing over science's greatest gamble, and yet nothing has changed from the human world of the outside. A simulacrum. A continuation. Business as usual.


The element that makes this even more impactful, is in how to consider the director's past works, and his own concerns for his homeland. Bong Joon-ho has used a diverse array of genres to protest what he sees as a grand problem for growing up South Korean. And what he has fashioned here becomes his most direct message to date: the rebels, are Northerners. While the patented, passive aggressive silliness in the latter cars represents the Gagnam Style in all its horrifically plastic glory. And if this is little more than a reductive pet theory, just wait until the final act where motivations are revealed, and don't say that it doesn't sound more than a little familiar. While quite universal in its concerns for the inequities of modern civilization, there are lines here that echo heavily from Korea's tortured past. And to have Hollywood actors deliver these lines is a subversive piece of serendipity that is simply miraculous (not to mention gutting). Also thrilling to witness, is the re-pairing of Song Kang-ho and Go Ah-sung who continue to play father and daughter brilliantly. Come to think of it, everyone across the board is solid. If there were even one remotely off-key note in the cast, perhaps it is Jamie Bell's Edgar, who feels a little uneven in the handling. 


Joon-ho's poetics start off relatively simplistic throughout the initial thirty minutes, but are textured greatly come the latter half when we finally discover who these entities are, what they represent, and just how paradoxical certain world models truly are. And when matters finally reach their meltdown point in what stands as the boldest denouement of this type of story possible, it becomes easier to see why director Bong chose what he did. Greater themes of trust, and an overall reflexive approach to nature lie at the burning core of SNOWPIERCER, that could generally put off certain viewers. Because at a glance, the film and its cast imply something that so easily comports itself to the typical big budget spectacle. This is no simplistic exploration of bourgeois versus the proles, it is a map of what has led us to this point, troubles and all. And the answers are not pat in any way, and might very well be painful to experience. What we really have here, is a triumph of vision on par with the best fantastical cinema has ever attempted. Not simply concerned with being a balm for the disenfranchised,  SNOWPIERCER, is a glorious splinter in the side of our developed world, and I couldn't be happier that it exists.


  

Tsukamoto Revisited: Bullet Ballet (1998) An Astonishing Point Of Metamorphosis

It is never easy to make the leap from the more artistically flexible world of no-budget filmmaking, and into the slick and often more hobbled sheen of mainstream cinema without losing a bit of the initial authorial spark in the process. Once such a transition happens, it often becomes less about the personal voice, and more about maintaining accounts and studio credibility. And when this happens, certain story molds are often adopted in the name of playing matters toward viewers less accustomed to an auteur's vision. If global cinema still has a lively community of independent-minded creators with an extended pinky toe in the mainstream, one has to include Shinya Tsukamoto amongst this rabble. And despite his being a voice that has seen some truly commercial cul-de-sacs, it has often been one to never stray terribly far from his initial, almost home-made texture. Whether it be via the generous and handsome use of handheld, hyperkinetic editing, and largely non-diegetic audio, a few seconds in, and one can almost feel that the characters of TETSUO are never truly far away from the current story we are witnessing.

So when we delve back in time, and seek out the point when this voice made its first leap into classically linear storytelling, we inevitably come to Bullet Ballet. Shot on his still go-to-black and white, and adorned with much of what made TETSUO and Tokyo Fist so aesthetically troubling, Ballet injects a most unexpected mass of humanity where much had been missing by design previously. Part coming-of-age story, part recession-era ball of existentialism, Ballet paints a stark vision of urban loneliness without the meandering dialogue, or navel-gazing often known to bog many a similar piece down. By contrast, Tsukamoto employs the best of his already established arsenal to weave a tale where the young and the old find themselves at a spiritual impasse, often with bittersweet epiphanies illustrated by their actions.


Successful commercial director, Goda suddenly arrives home to discover his wife dead by apparent gunshot to the head. Shocked enough at the loss, let alone the means (he explains to authorities that they never owned, let alone possessed a firearm), he is suddenly enamored with the idea of seeking such a weapon in one of the most gun strict cultures imaginable. Throughout what seems to be a desperate quest to end his life upon said acquisition, he run across a gang of daredevil youths seemingly experiencing a similar turning point. Particularly in the guise of  the wayward Chisato (Kirina Mano) , who seems to resonate with the death-tripping Goda. All sides flirting with an avalanche of change that seems programmed to consume them all, the establishment and the restless find themselves in near rhythmic syncopation.

One of the most impressive things that Tsukamoto advances into a more dramatic structure, is a very raw sense of desolation as our characters seek a means to escape their concrete cages. So much of the film's visual architecture is pure walled, wet, neon drenched, and artifice. It's to such a degree, that it envelops the cast into this realm where sunlight is more incidental, and much less assuring. Even as Goda and company wander the Tokyo cityscape, there is a feeling of near suffocation that ultimately compliments their often irrational behavior. Even as they run across an entire world of seedy characters, undocumented denizens, lowlives, killers, and weirdos, it all feels like Tsukamoto is not reveling in this world in ways that other directors do. It becomes clear that many are this way because of their surroundings. It even goes so far as to imply that the only reason why Goda is reacting the way he is, is because of this ingrained need to fulfill the obligations of the collective- without asking the soul first.

Throughout his near nightly jags of considering death, it is the words of his lost love that haunts. Especially when they agreed to society's narrative over their own individual ones.

In flashbacks and by way of his encounters with Chisato and her friends, we are host to a system long in the function, but low on the self-reflection. So when violence by way of technology comes into play as a solution, it's easy to see how such a curse seems to have been woven into the Japanese experience post-WWII. Tsukamoto and company are viscerally taking on the detritus of the previous generation, and somehow finding beauty within it all. Even as development and technology begins to show signs of decay and scarification, the 1990s as a decade presented this opportunity in ways that perhaps have been covered up by means of mobile device culture, and a growing disconnect between individuals rather than groups. Because if even Goda could find some manner of future beyond his loss, it is all about roaming the landscape, never sure if salvation is right around the corner.  


Because destruction is nearly a lead-in to other realities, Tsukamoto seems to be implying. Whether it be via a bullet or nuclear blast, those left behind must still reassemble futures.

Nothing, is ever truly over.

Edge Of Tomorrow (2014): Movie Thoughts

As humanity takes its final breaths after a devastating alien invasion, military PR officer, Lt. Col. Bill Cage(Tom Cruise), is summoned by high command and ordered to join the front lines of a massive final assault. Completely green in the realm of combat, Cage’s protests are countermanded, as he is knocked unconscious and dropped off where the united military forces prepare for the anticipated Operation Downfall near Verdun. And despite his unending wishes to avoid service if he has to, a sneak attack on the human forces sends Cage and fellow soldiers into what looks like a clear pre-emptive slaughter. Upon the hellish battlefield, it is here that Cage’s encounter with the fearsome MIMIC entities leaves him dead..Only for him to awaken back at the drop off spot, merely hours before. In a bizarre twist, his day has reset, and seems to do so every time he is killed. Seeing the advantages to this potentially nightmarish predicament, it is here that he runs into celebrated war hero, Rita Vratatski ( “The Angel Of Verdun”, played to perfection by Emily Blunt), who apparently is familiar with this phenomenon. Together, this shared knowledge is put to the ultimate test as the alien ability to “reset” time is now in Cage’s hands, but the MIMICs are never to be underestimated.

Based on the 2004 light novel by Hiroshi Sakurazaka, and the subsequent manga, the puzzlingly retitled, Edge Of Tomorrow is easily one of the better J-media adaptations imaginable. Taking a cue from the original book, and dismantling the often typical otaku archetypes and attitudes, and keeping the speculative wackiness of the universe makes for an effective retooling. For the typical “kill ‘em all” storylines in military action films of the past, it’s refreshing to see a fantasy take on it with such humor and energy. Doug Liman, working with an often thin, but personality-riddled script by Christopher McQuarrie, Jez & John-Henry Butterworth, creates the ultimate in-video game experience, complete with just enough gravity and laughs to keep it fun throughout. Embodying the action game scheme by way of a Vonnegut meets Grimwood meets Groundhog Day manner, where characters relive the same day, only to exploit this as a means of tactical advancement.

The catch here being that death is the only trigger for a new life.

Which makes for the film’s most sadistically funny conceit; we get to see Tom Cruise die an absurd number of times attempting to turn the tide of this most dire 24 hours! And considering years of the media, and subsequent public disdain for the Hollywood legend, there is an audience who is ready and willing to partake in such a twisted idea. Thankfully, so is Cruise, who delivers one of his most infectiously fun performances in an action film, ever. He’s so ready to throw himself into proceedings, that it almost feels masochistic at points. But this is well earned, as the character of Cage starts out as your classic combat dodging mannequin, stopping at nothing to ditch active duty, even going so far as to blackmailing his commanding officer played by the ever wonderful Brendan Gleeson. Starting at this particular compass point, Cruise’s arc involves him growing more and more acquainted with faces on the field (including a still bug hunting, Bill Paxton in top form), as well as a concept of sacrifice. Which leads us to the biggest surprise of all..

This technically isn’t even a Tom Cruise vehicle..

Enter Rita Vratatski, the woman who’s surprise victory over the MIMIC menace led to the proliferation of the military’s exoskeleton project, and is hailed as an almost mythic war hero. Emily Blunt’s rendition of the character is one that not only aces the original book’s, but becomes a thrilling touchpoint for big budget action cinema. Where Cruise plays something of a central role throughout the film, it is ultimately Blunt’s presence that heralds something to the effect of a torch passing. A character with only the mission, and fragments of a past that she guards quite closely makes for a refreshing business lead. She knows how the “game” works, and is entrusting her fate to a man who must only help her by way of dying repeatedly for the sake of self-improvement. But when she can fight, its a raw exhibition of dedication and poise. Even better, she is not idealized in any classic manner of otaku fetishism. While we may have experienced a number of action heroes who happen to be female in the past, the idea that this is not only a non-issue, but one whom a once vaunted action star would defer to in a most sincere sense, is significant. Cruise, is very much the sidekick!

Soon into the midsection of the film, it becomes implied that there are far more renditions of this day that are not shown, leaving us to play along as Cage and Vratatski attempt to outwit fate time and again. If any flaws begin to invade the story, this is where it happens. Even so, it almost seems to be parodying what we expect from big action films, and having a blast while doing it. The loop storyline becomes a kind of window for us to better understand not only how the war could be won, but also of our leads who couldn’t be from greater divisions. Where the film begins to flirt with the implications of their unique moral places, is also where it flags a bit until the shaky finale. We never get a full exploration of their changing worldviews by way of this bizarre situation, and as such, the film must be taken as more a ride than anything else. After all, we are talking more of video games of a previous generation than of the way they are slowly beginning to spider in complexity and moral quandary. But where it does make up for all of this, is in humor and action, which bursts out in torrents. The battle sequences are striking, and the MIMIC creatures are things of  an almost drug-addled beauty.

In summation, Edge Of Tomorrow is easily one of the year’s biggest genre surprises. Far from the typical Tom Cruise action fare, this is perhaps the best of its kind, and easily Liman's best in over a decade. And it is sure to reward upon repeat viewings. As for the implications of war spin doctors being forced into fighting wars alongside those who actually volunteered for service, one could certainly do worse. But perhaps in conflicts post WWII, all we have been doing, has been retooling ourselves into further understanding the future. There are some mild jabs of this nature happening throughout, but it never comes to any major fruition. Which is to say relax, unwind, suit up, and get ready to watch Tom Cruise live out the NES Ninja Gaiden campaign of your dreams.

All the dying, none of the controller-gnawing after effects.

X-Men: Days Of Future Past (2014) Is Numerous Layers Of Attempted Undoing

In a desolate future where all that remain of average humans and mutants are on the losing end of a horrific war versus a machine enemy, the final battle will be decided by way of time travel. With the last remnants of mutated humans fighting the same final stand time and again due to Kitty Pryde(Ellen Page)'s ability to send minds back a few minutes before the same assault annihilates them all. It is here that the finally re-allied pairing of Charles Xavier(Patrick Stewart) and Erik Lehnsherr (Sir Ian McKellen) posit that the only chance at averting this dire outcome, is by sending someone far earlier, to 1973. A time when one single event undertaken by a fellow mutant, sets the entire Sentinel apocalypse in motion. The catch? The only mutant left that could possibly handle such an intense trip back into his younger body, is the ever volatile Logan (Hugh Jackman).


It takes an often absurd amount of effort to undo the past, but what about a past series of wayward films nearly a decade in the maintaining? This question penetrates beyond the mere plot of Bryan Singer's directorial return to the long-troubled X-Men film franchise in what is one of the more unusual cases of course correction I have ever witnessed. Taking on the classic time travel story originally published in 1981, elder cast meets young in a tale of redemption spanning several decades as the rift between humans and mutants reaches apocalyptic proportion. Again, it is no mean feat to undo a few simple choices made nearly ten years ago, but Singer and company give it a daring go at it (to marginally successful results).


Even more than an ambitious journey for a filmmaker with numerous levels of past deeds to be undone, DoFP features one of the more challenging storylines of the franchise. And as such, does a mostly effective job of juggling character and story. The lynchpins of the tale being that of the now-fractured relationship of past Charles and Erik (James McAvoy and a still riveting as iron, Michael Fassbender) now at its most strained since the aftermath of the events of First Class. With the two old friends turned rivals over their philosophies leaves Erik imprisoned deep beneath the Pentagon, and Charles, now a drug-addicted recluse, Logan's mission to inform them of future events makes for a great deal of the film's juice. The need for both old friends to rejoin forces in the name of stopping someone very close to them from killing the man responsible for setting events in motion. The man in question, being noted scientist, Bolivar Trask(Peter Dinklage). The man who will implement the Sentinel program, an army of humanoid machines capable of identifying and destroying mutants with frightening accuracy. But once the mission is well in motion, it becomes quite clear that even more than events that can be altered, it is in tattered bonds between mutants that might prove to be the most difficult to sway. Especially when it is the strained heart of Mystique/Raven(Jennifer Lawrence).


Course correction might be at the heart of the piece, but as a time travel piece, it is far more interested in what truly drives the series; character drama, and social concern. And while the film at times finds itself a little bogged down by an already overwhelmed cast, it at times feels uneven in tone, and unable to center its emotional drive where it needs it most. What we get in terms of the soap operatics lies mostly between MacAvoy and Fassbender, who again deliver some of the series' best work. And once again, there is great use of the ever reliable Jackman as a beast-man, ever at odds with his own nature in a situation that could completely derail at his expense. And while a great deal of the film makes good with this within the first hour, it also finds itself relatively lost in a cacophony of twists and specious cartoon logic that almost threatens to undo the remaining running time. An underlying concern for the unspoken for veterans in wars of the past rings its head numerous times as a new thematic wrinkle. Sadly, this angle finds itself underutilized, even as a majority of the film is set amidst the Vietnam conflict.


 One element here that almost cripples a lot of the film's aims to be one of global and temporal scale, is an often excessive sense of stylized history, occasionally flirting with pure camp. One could almost argue that this is an effect of the previous films taking on a number of bizarre shifts over the years. What DoFP does in a very interesting way, is pay lip service to the series as a whole, and attempt to override all the troubles that have dogged the series, perhaps since the original 2000 debut. Having come through years of self-conscious comic book adaptations, this is also a fully "out" rendition of the X-Men films. In a post-Avengers world, it's hard not to look back and see just how panicked the studio must have been about presenting such larger than life characters to the screen. It took a decade and a half to reach where we are today, and with our characters desperately seeking a way to undo the mistakes of the past, we are at last able to see a more embracing vision of the universe.


The one place that I couldn't reconcile with the film, sadly is with the lack of feminine characterization. It's difficult enough to buy the wobbly logic of sending Logan in the stead of Pryde who was the story's original time traveler back to the past. But to not grant us enough insight into the mind of Mystique, who's entire agency in the story makes for the film's most important internal conflict is more than a missed opportunity, it's an almost fatal omission. Lawrence milks her role for all that its worth, but a little more on why she is so driven to commit her world-altering act would have done the film a great emotional service. Considering the best X-films contained with them a special feminine power integral to the spirit of the piece, it is sadly diminished here.


So in all, Singer's return to the franchise that made him into something of a divisive figure in fantasy filmdom is both a welcome and overburdened success. While it in no way undoes years of bad ideas, it does make for a sweet and occasionally thrilling apology. The world of the cinematic X-universe has been largely a dysfunctional one. It's with a surprised heart to express that for all its issues, Days Of Future Past carries with it a weight that helped bring the era of the superhero to fruition. Still a shame that this return to form came in the visage of a boys club reunion.

Oh, and the movie world's grander introduction to P. Maximoff, also known as Quicksilver(Evan Peters)? Possibly the film's biggest, happiest surprise.

Gareth Edwards' Godzilla (2014) Is Crushingly Average

Will it ever be enough?

The question that rang through my mind thirty minutes into Legendary Pictures' grand leap into the world of classic kaiju. Edwards' first major studio release, featuring TOHO's grand reptile winds up being less a narrative on our current world, and rather indicative of a studio system hobbled by legacy. This is in no way out to belittle what indeed appears onscreen, but for a piece designed to reintroduce the King Of The Monsters to a new generation, it does very little to impress beyond mild expectations. Worse yet, it plays as a half-baked allegory for more recent events in a way that never comes to any fruition. Outside of focusing on by-the-numbers, personality-deficient americans, the film never finds itself out of second gear. While it is much closer in aim to the G films of decades past, the end result is the equivalent of tasting a bottle of the most expensive water imaginable, and being unable to distinguish it from tap.


Beginning in 1999, a Japanese nuclear plant's US supervisor (Bryan Cranston) becomes a widower after strange seismic activity seems to herald a disaster, rendering what remains of the facility and the surrounding plant town as quarantined. Meanwhile, somewhere in the Philippines, a research team led by Professor Serizawa(Ken Watanabe) have just stumbled upon an unearthed and fossilized giant skeleton, along with a pair of massive egg pods(with one freshly opened). In the years after the incident, Joseph Brody(Cranston) has become something of an obsessed man, convinced that the public story regarding the plant incident is pure cover for something else. Having just recently been arrested back in Japan near the quarantine zone, Brody's now grown son, Ford (now an explosive ordinance disposal expert in the US Navy, played by Aaron Taylor-Johnson) is tasked with heading overseas to retrieve him. Only daddy Brody's ravings about a cover-up turn out to be true, and something horrific and HUGE is being watched over at the old nuclear facility grounds. It is here, that both parties are brought together due to a now unstoppable threat to humankind.


And perhaps there is only one force of nature capable of ending the terror.


So, yes..Despite the ad campaign that front-loaded often harrowing scenes of destruction and even human casualties, this is more a collective homage to fifty years of TOHO's once-great-nightmare-turned signature superhero. And perhaps it needs to be said up front that for all that will be typed here regarding the film, it is also great leaps beyond the 1998 Roland Emmerich film. Without resorting to nearly as much disinterest in the source material as that film, what remains is something more akin to playing the needle perhaps a little louder than necessary. The groove Edwards' finds himself in, is largely due to both Max Borenstein's underwhelming script, and his own inability to lend the film a sense of dramatic pacing. (This is not the first time. His previous, the indie surprise, MONSTERS, suffers from falling into a comfort zone with characterization, not playing enough with the elements at hand.)  Everything that seems to happen onscreen is often borne out of utility rather than by character, and as such we spend too much time coasting through the film. And even though the story goes out of its way to build up toward our first look at Gojira in all his glory, the impact is largely diminished due to a severe lack of dramatic tension. Matters just happen, and this happens with great efficiency throughout.


Also not delivered as advertised, is the performance of Cranston who ends up merely being a story leaping point, rather than the central character. His casting almost feels stunt-y considering what we're left with. Taylor-Johnson is never given any real meat as the young Brody. And his family is granted even less. With Elizabeth Olsen as Elle, Ford's doctor wife, and Carson Bolde as his young son, we are merely given the semblance of a contemporary family caught in the middle of this avalanching crisis. One could argue that many a human character in a Godzilla film has been perfunctory to the monster on monster action, but to see these characters be less than simple ciphers in such a large production is a little disheartening. It even goes so far as to make the entire affair feel small, and lacking in any sense of real awe.


Think of it. A Godzilla film of this size and potential magnitude, it barely registers.


On the surface, Edwards' piece does dish out some terrific images, and the final battle royale between King G and the insectoid MUTO creatures is fun on an artistic level. Alexandre Dusplat's effective orchestral score is relatively memorable. But for all the talk of this being a Godzilla piece with greater emphasis on the humans at ground level, it all rings terribly distant and hollow. This was a golden opportunity to make a film equivalent to the original Ishiro Honda classic. An environmental horror tale. An emotionally stirring hymn to civilization's hubris in the face of nature, delivered with heartfelt potency. A chance to place us at the heart of a truly difficult dilemma concerning the fate of the world, and science's role in it. But all we get is a middle of the road redux, lacking in horror, character, or even fun. If there is anything thematic to glean from all of this, is that the piece lands on the idea that nature settles its own issues. Problems arise when we are never given enough illustration of this point, nor enough evidence aside from the expected destruction to back up this mode of thinking. Even Watanabe's portrayal of Serizawa is never given enough coverage for us to see his ideas as having any kind of greater merit. While the surface is at times captivating, there seems to be very little percolation beneath it.


About the only genuine response evoked by the film (outside of the occasional cheer for our hero) was during a gag when young Brody's little son exclaims that the monster battle happening on the news is that of "dinosaurs". That's a very real, and wonderful piece of humor that resembled what a real film can do when breaking a sweat. But far too often, this one feels like a series of occasional sprints. And for all the respect it pays to the past, and to Yoshimitsu Banno's original IMAX 3D concept from over a decade ago, there is something that simply doesn't work about forcing American characters into such a mythology. In a post-Pacific Rim world, we should be much better than this.

So, I ask again..Will it ever be enough?

One would like to say yes. But perhaps we need to wait another fifteen years?