By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
Of the many animated films that have and will draw hoards of merry moviegoers this holiday season, Wes Anderson’s retro, stop-action movie called “The Fantastic Mr. Fox” may be the only animated film that is a must-see. Nearly every moment of this movie is breathtakingly beautiful and immensely entertaining.
By nature, Mr. Fox (George Clooney) is a daring scavenger—a voracious burglar—who moves quickly and acts on instinct. In other words, Mr. Fox is a wild animal. But like many things that are wild, Mr. Fox has a gentlemanly side to him as well. He is often thoughtful and reflective, and he cares deeply about the welfare of those he loves. So when Mrs. Fox (Meryl Streep) announces that she is pregnant, Mr. Fox agrees to give up his regular practice of raiding the chicken coops of nearby farms. Mr. Fox properly gentrifies; he becomes the kind of fox that is family-oriented. Despite the persisting glint of adventure in his eyes and occasional displays of untamed behavior, Mr. Fox pursues all of the humdrum virtues appropriate to the middle class: a new tree to call home, a stable economic portfolio (as handled by Badger (Bill Murray)), and a good education for his son, Ash (Jason Schwartzman). As is, Mr. Fox’s new life is just satisfying enough to keep him from reacting to the unrest and slightly neutered feeling that inevitably inheres in a wild animal that has been tamed.
However, when he learns of the local success of three ruthless and calculating tycoon farmers, Mr. Fox cannot resist the temptation to revisit the wild, liberated days of old. With an opossum named Kylie (Wally Wolodarsky) as an accomplice, Mr. Fox hatches new schemes to thieve and plunder the ample stocks of the farmers. At first, all goes according to plan. The farmers are unable to protect their products, and the Fox family is richer and happier than ever.
The well conceived plans of Mr. Fox come to an end, though, as the farmers find the Fox home and lay siege to it. Mr. Fox and his family are only able to escape certain death by burrowing deep under ground, and there ensues a point/counterpoint between the furry of the farmers and the wiles of their animal opponents. Each time Mr. Fox and his family and friends (who are also objects of the farmers’ ire) seem to elude the clutches of their foes, new perils await them. In this battle between man and animal, Mr. Fox must learn to balance his instincts and his intelligence—his wildness and his tameness—in order to prove equal to the might and resources of the farmers.
“The Fantastic Mr. Fox” has the same beauty and flare as other of Wes Anderson’s masterstrokes (e.g. “The Royal Tenenbaums”, “The Darjeeling Limited”); however, “The Fantastic Mr. Fox” is somehow alone among Anderson’s films in its appeal with respect to a very wide range of viewers. While Anderson’s “The Royal Tenenbaums”, for example, is surely a work of art, it is also quirky, idiosyncratic—an acquired taste. “The Fantastic Mr. Fox” is also quirky, but its charm is immediate, self-evident and irresistible for anyone save Ebenezer Scrooge. One reason for this universal appeal is the fact that Anderson turns what moviegoers have come to know as grotesque and ugly animation—that is, stop-action animation—into a dancing, vivacious presentation. The artistic execution of this movie approaches the very limits of the medium in which it was created.
What is perhaps even more impressive than the look of this movie is how well Anderson’s signature vernacular translates into the animal world. The language in all of Anderson’s films is characterized by quickness, understated honesty, and a certain existential profundity that has an absurd but unmistakably hilarious quality to it. This quality is somehow enhanced when instantiated in animal dolls. Just imagine a well-dressed and intelligent fox who, while looking deep into the eyes of another such fox, utters in a confessional tone, “The truth about me is, I’m a wild animal,” and then goes on to admit that he is still dealing with what exactly that means. In short, “The Fantastic Mr. Fox” is a masterpiece; the best movie of the season, if not the year.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Monday, November 9, 2009
"The Men Who Stare at Goats"
By: Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
The mission: to develop the psychic powers of gifted soldiers to a level so great that they are able to stop a goat’s heart just by staring at it or break up cloud formations by merely wishing it to be so. The objective: to bring peace to the world by mentally disarming hostile armies. The movie: “The Men Who Stare at Goats.”
“The Men Who Stare at Goats” is a goofy but clever movie that is fueled by the skillful work of George Clooney, Jeff Bridges, Kevin Spacey and Ewan McGregor. As it is, this film is rather flimsy, but worth a grin and a chuckle for both its situational humor and sardonic plot.
Bob Wilton (Ewan McGregor) is a small-time reporter who is shaken from his suburban reverie when his wife leaves him for his boss. Intent on impressing his wife (or proving that she was wrong), Wilton goes to Iraq to become a real reporter—a wartime correspondent. Unfortunately, Wilton has a hard time breaking into the old boys club that constitutes the Iraq War news troupe, and so he is left feeling as impotent as ever.
However, patience finally avails Wilton, and his big break comes in the form of Lynn Cassady, a leading member of a top secret military organization called ‘The New Earth Army’, which focuses on developing the psychic powers of mentally gifted soldiers. Wilton is grateful for the intriguing story, but finds himself unable to believe the grandiose claims to power attested to by Cassady, for the psychic cohort described by Cassady seems less like a group of dedicated geniuses and more like a group of hippie crackpots. The soldiers of the New Earth Army do not conduct scientific experiments on brains or study the psychological makeup of combatants; instead, these men prance with flowers, do yoga, pray to the earth for guidance, and stare at goats.
Despite his skepticism, Wilton goes along for the ride with an open mind. He and Cassady travel deep into Iraq—one looking for a story and the other looking to accomplish a mission. Wilton quickly learns that, with Cassady, there is a very fine line between ineptitude and genius, for Cassady gets the pair in and out of trouble with what is either stupidity, psychic foresight or dumb luck. Yet, the further into the story Wilton gets, the more he believes in the efficacy of psychic powers. He believes that Cassady and the rest of the New Earth Army are capable of doing amazing things (although he is unsure what, exactly, is amazing about those things), and he also comes to believe that he, a mere reporter, is likewise psychically gifted.
But in the end, it is not their mental prowess that leads these men closer to their objective. Rather, it is their outlook, their way of life, that makes the difference. It turns out that working on their own selves—and yes, through yoga and prancing—is the first critical step towards ridding the world of violence.
The way that “The Men Who Stare at Goats” combines the grim nature of warfare with the lighthearted attitude of hippie culture is both funny and clever. However, that this movie is worth more than a grin is due to the work of George Clooney and Jeff Bridges (who plays the founder of the New Earth Army), who fill their respective roles with twice the genius of the characters they play.
With that said, “The Men Who Stare at Goats” is lacking in certain respects. The plot of this movie is far from riveting, and most of the characters lack the kind of depth and heart that could have made this movie great. Nonetheless, “The Men Who Stare at Goats” is at very least worthwhile. When all is said and done, the audience cannot help but think that the world could use more soldiers from the New Earth Army.
Coastal View News
The mission: to develop the psychic powers of gifted soldiers to a level so great that they are able to stop a goat’s heart just by staring at it or break up cloud formations by merely wishing it to be so. The objective: to bring peace to the world by mentally disarming hostile armies. The movie: “The Men Who Stare at Goats.”
“The Men Who Stare at Goats” is a goofy but clever movie that is fueled by the skillful work of George Clooney, Jeff Bridges, Kevin Spacey and Ewan McGregor. As it is, this film is rather flimsy, but worth a grin and a chuckle for both its situational humor and sardonic plot.
Bob Wilton (Ewan McGregor) is a small-time reporter who is shaken from his suburban reverie when his wife leaves him for his boss. Intent on impressing his wife (or proving that she was wrong), Wilton goes to Iraq to become a real reporter—a wartime correspondent. Unfortunately, Wilton has a hard time breaking into the old boys club that constitutes the Iraq War news troupe, and so he is left feeling as impotent as ever.
However, patience finally avails Wilton, and his big break comes in the form of Lynn Cassady, a leading member of a top secret military organization called ‘The New Earth Army’, which focuses on developing the psychic powers of mentally gifted soldiers. Wilton is grateful for the intriguing story, but finds himself unable to believe the grandiose claims to power attested to by Cassady, for the psychic cohort described by Cassady seems less like a group of dedicated geniuses and more like a group of hippie crackpots. The soldiers of the New Earth Army do not conduct scientific experiments on brains or study the psychological makeup of combatants; instead, these men prance with flowers, do yoga, pray to the earth for guidance, and stare at goats.
Despite his skepticism, Wilton goes along for the ride with an open mind. He and Cassady travel deep into Iraq—one looking for a story and the other looking to accomplish a mission. Wilton quickly learns that, with Cassady, there is a very fine line between ineptitude and genius, for Cassady gets the pair in and out of trouble with what is either stupidity, psychic foresight or dumb luck. Yet, the further into the story Wilton gets, the more he believes in the efficacy of psychic powers. He believes that Cassady and the rest of the New Earth Army are capable of doing amazing things (although he is unsure what, exactly, is amazing about those things), and he also comes to believe that he, a mere reporter, is likewise psychically gifted.
But in the end, it is not their mental prowess that leads these men closer to their objective. Rather, it is their outlook, their way of life, that makes the difference. It turns out that working on their own selves—and yes, through yoga and prancing—is the first critical step towards ridding the world of violence.
The way that “The Men Who Stare at Goats” combines the grim nature of warfare with the lighthearted attitude of hippie culture is both funny and clever. However, that this movie is worth more than a grin is due to the work of George Clooney and Jeff Bridges (who plays the founder of the New Earth Army), who fill their respective roles with twice the genius of the characters they play.
With that said, “The Men Who Stare at Goats” is lacking in certain respects. The plot of this movie is far from riveting, and most of the characters lack the kind of depth and heart that could have made this movie great. Nonetheless, “The Men Who Stare at Goats” is at very least worthwhile. When all is said and done, the audience cannot help but think that the world could use more soldiers from the New Earth Army.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
"Capitalism: A Love Story"
By: Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
“Capitalism is an evil,” says Michael Moore, “and you cannot regulate evil.”
Capitalism, an evil? We might have been inclined to go along with “Guns are evil,” “George Bush is evil,” and maybe even “Private healthcare is evil,” but surely we cannot so slander our beloved friend, capitalism. The economic superiority and moral uprightness of the free market is simply a given, right? Not so, says Michael Moore.
America and capitalism are what Forrest Gump might have said are “like peas and carrots”, and for this reason, “Capitalism: A Love Story”—a blistering criticism of all things free market—is Moore’s boldest and most ambitious project to date. It’s bold, but not great. It is emotionally stirring at times, but because capitalism is itself such an elusive concept for Michael Moore, his movie is unclear, unfocused, heavy on emotional conclusions, and light on damning premises.
“Capitalism: A Love Story” sputters out of the gates with several disjointed scenes and interviews that are only loosely connected. Moore interviews families being thrown from their homes and zooms in for shot after shot after shot of tear-stained faces and boarded-up shanties. Moore compares America to ancient Rome, drawing parallels between the social factors that led to Rome’s downfall and the milieu that now characterizes American society: too much greed; too great a divide between the rich and the poor.
While there is no tight working definition of ‘capitalism’ provided by Moore, there is the impression that ‘capitalism’ loosely refers to something like greed, the privilege of the few at the expense of the many, or maybe just meanness. As per usual, Moore attacks the system-“the Man” if you will—through a witty combination of emotional instances and conspiracy theories, all set to bouncing, ironic music.
For all of its initial flaws, “Capitalism: A Love Story” picks up some steam, interest, and credibility as Moore casts the financial elite as a corrupt aristocracy. He cleverly juxtaposes capitalism not with socialism or communism, but democracy. For Moore, the real tension is between two basic American ideals: liberty and equality. On the one hand, Americans are attracted to the personal liberty espoused by capitalism because they want to think that they have the freedom to make it big, to rise above their respective classes, to live the American dream. But on the other hand, there is also the moral compass of America that seeks to provide adequate conditions for all. We believe that everyone should have equal access to happiness and security.
We can’t have it both ways, claims Moore. We can’t obtain fabulous wealth for ourselves while at the same time providing adequate conditions for all. Thus, the tension between liberty and equality. Of course, Moore thinks that the so-called economic liberty provided by capitalism is, in reality, a sham. According to Moore, the reason we allow investment bankers and Wall Street whizzes to make it rich while hard working families are kicked to the curb is because we like the idea that someday we could be rich, on top of the heap. But this is an illusion, claims Moore, because the simple fact is that the rich get richer and the poor get poorer.
For those viewers who are not already inclined to believe Moore’s conclusions, “Capitalism: A Love Story” will be nothing short of exasperating. As is usually the case, Moore’s premises are aimed at the gut, not the head. He uses public outrage to egg his audience on; he is the trumpeter of discontent, a sympathizer, a rabble-rouser. Moore tells people what they are mad at and then makes them madder at it, all without making a clear connection between their woe and his ill-defined object of hatred.
For those viewers who are inclined to believe Moore’s conclusions, “Capitalism: A Love Story” will no doubt be a moving rally cry. For those who have the feeling that the problem really is systemic, this film provides emotional punch. For these folks, Michael Moore is in their corner; he is their champion.
But whether you are a capitalist, socialist, anarchist or communist, it is clear that “Capitalism: A Love Story” could have been better. It could have been more penetrating and focused. It could have more coherently dealt with the connections between our current economic troubles and capitalism as an economic system. But that’s not really Michael Moore’s style, so take this movie for what it’s worth.
Coastal View News
“Capitalism is an evil,” says Michael Moore, “and you cannot regulate evil.”
Capitalism, an evil? We might have been inclined to go along with “Guns are evil,” “George Bush is evil,” and maybe even “Private healthcare is evil,” but surely we cannot so slander our beloved friend, capitalism. The economic superiority and moral uprightness of the free market is simply a given, right? Not so, says Michael Moore.
America and capitalism are what Forrest Gump might have said are “like peas and carrots”, and for this reason, “Capitalism: A Love Story”—a blistering criticism of all things free market—is Moore’s boldest and most ambitious project to date. It’s bold, but not great. It is emotionally stirring at times, but because capitalism is itself such an elusive concept for Michael Moore, his movie is unclear, unfocused, heavy on emotional conclusions, and light on damning premises.
“Capitalism: A Love Story” sputters out of the gates with several disjointed scenes and interviews that are only loosely connected. Moore interviews families being thrown from their homes and zooms in for shot after shot after shot of tear-stained faces and boarded-up shanties. Moore compares America to ancient Rome, drawing parallels between the social factors that led to Rome’s downfall and the milieu that now characterizes American society: too much greed; too great a divide between the rich and the poor.
While there is no tight working definition of ‘capitalism’ provided by Moore, there is the impression that ‘capitalism’ loosely refers to something like greed, the privilege of the few at the expense of the many, or maybe just meanness. As per usual, Moore attacks the system-“the Man” if you will—through a witty combination of emotional instances and conspiracy theories, all set to bouncing, ironic music.
For all of its initial flaws, “Capitalism: A Love Story” picks up some steam, interest, and credibility as Moore casts the financial elite as a corrupt aristocracy. He cleverly juxtaposes capitalism not with socialism or communism, but democracy. For Moore, the real tension is between two basic American ideals: liberty and equality. On the one hand, Americans are attracted to the personal liberty espoused by capitalism because they want to think that they have the freedom to make it big, to rise above their respective classes, to live the American dream. But on the other hand, there is also the moral compass of America that seeks to provide adequate conditions for all. We believe that everyone should have equal access to happiness and security.
We can’t have it both ways, claims Moore. We can’t obtain fabulous wealth for ourselves while at the same time providing adequate conditions for all. Thus, the tension between liberty and equality. Of course, Moore thinks that the so-called economic liberty provided by capitalism is, in reality, a sham. According to Moore, the reason we allow investment bankers and Wall Street whizzes to make it rich while hard working families are kicked to the curb is because we like the idea that someday we could be rich, on top of the heap. But this is an illusion, claims Moore, because the simple fact is that the rich get richer and the poor get poorer.
For those viewers who are not already inclined to believe Moore’s conclusions, “Capitalism: A Love Story” will be nothing short of exasperating. As is usually the case, Moore’s premises are aimed at the gut, not the head. He uses public outrage to egg his audience on; he is the trumpeter of discontent, a sympathizer, a rabble-rouser. Moore tells people what they are mad at and then makes them madder at it, all without making a clear connection between their woe and his ill-defined object of hatred.
For those viewers who are inclined to believe Moore’s conclusions, “Capitalism: A Love Story” will no doubt be a moving rally cry. For those who have the feeling that the problem really is systemic, this film provides emotional punch. For these folks, Michael Moore is in their corner; he is their champion.
But whether you are a capitalist, socialist, anarchist or communist, it is clear that “Capitalism: A Love Story” could have been better. It could have been more penetrating and focused. It could have more coherently dealt with the connections between our current economic troubles and capitalism as an economic system. But that’s not really Michael Moore’s style, so take this movie for what it’s worth.
"Extract"
By: Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
Mike Judge’s career is an ode to the workingman. It is an ode composed of a series of tales chronicling the exasperation of suburban life. “Office Space,” “King of the Hill,” and now “Extract”, all give a ridiculous but somehow accurate look at what is most trying about being average. “Extract” is an oddly realistic farce—a good illustration of what makes Judge’s movies so unique, and so funny.
Joel (Jason Bateman) may be the creator and owner of his own company, but at heart, Joel is a simple guy. He really wants what every simple guy wants: stability, honesty, and an occasional retreat from the doldrums. Joel’s ingenious and moderately successful extract manufacturing business testifies to the fact that all he really needs is his little corner of the world.
That is, until the combination of a dissatisfying home life, the fresh presence of a sexy temptress at work and the jarring influence of a freak accident at the extract factory moves Joel to shake things up a bit—to hatch a scheme. At the insistence of Joel’s hippie friend Dean (Ben Affleck), Joel decides to hire a male prostitute to seduce his wife so that he—Joel—can sleep with his new temp, Cindy (Mila Kunis), without feeling guilty. Unfortunately, the plan works too well. Brad (Dustin Milligan), the moronic gigolo, not only finds it easy to lure Joel’s wife into bed, he also finds it easy to turn this one-time job into a lingering affair.
Meanwhile, Joel discovers that Cindy is not the sweet, honest girl that he thought she was. Instead, she is an underhanded con artist/petty thief who is threatening to bring his entire company to its knees. Joel sees his entire world crumbling around him, and all because he tried to combat his boredom with Hollywood shenanigans. Joel realizes that he never really wanted what he thought he wanted. In other words, his old life, though at times exasperating, provided comfort and contentment. Joel discovers that he was meant to be a small-time extract maker, not James Bond.
In “Extract”, Mike Judge does what he does best: he simultaneously glorifies and mocks the life of the average Joe. He creates characters that are at once over-the-top and yet strikingly familiar. He puts these characters into situations that seem outrageous, but that every member of the audience has somehow experienced. Mike Judge is the master of working class exasperation.
In Judge’s stories, it is interesting to note that the worst possible thing a character can do is attempt to be something that they are not. Although the desirability of fleeing from suburbia is palpable in the beginning of these stories, the actual act of fleeing serves only as a catalyst for misery, and the process of redemption is always identical to the process of coming back to where things started. It seems to be a transformation of attitude, not necessarily a transformation of lifestyle, which is the solution to chronic boredom, according to Judge. The most valuable lesson Judge’s characters can learn is that they are nothing special; or, rather, it is that their simplicity is precisely what makes them special.
“Extract” is not just interesting; it’s funny too. Jason Bateman is perfect for the role of the punching bag, and is supported by a whole slew of outrageous but believable characters. In particular, David Koechner, who plays Bateman’s neighbor Nathan, is a side-splitting rendition of the kind of vapid acquaintance that just won’t leave you alone. It seems to me that Judge’s work is successful only insofar as he can create characters that are both remarkably unreasonable and remarkably believable. In “Extract”, there are plenty to choose from.
Coastal View News
Mike Judge’s career is an ode to the workingman. It is an ode composed of a series of tales chronicling the exasperation of suburban life. “Office Space,” “King of the Hill,” and now “Extract”, all give a ridiculous but somehow accurate look at what is most trying about being average. “Extract” is an oddly realistic farce—a good illustration of what makes Judge’s movies so unique, and so funny.
Joel (Jason Bateman) may be the creator and owner of his own company, but at heart, Joel is a simple guy. He really wants what every simple guy wants: stability, honesty, and an occasional retreat from the doldrums. Joel’s ingenious and moderately successful extract manufacturing business testifies to the fact that all he really needs is his little corner of the world.
That is, until the combination of a dissatisfying home life, the fresh presence of a sexy temptress at work and the jarring influence of a freak accident at the extract factory moves Joel to shake things up a bit—to hatch a scheme. At the insistence of Joel’s hippie friend Dean (Ben Affleck), Joel decides to hire a male prostitute to seduce his wife so that he—Joel—can sleep with his new temp, Cindy (Mila Kunis), without feeling guilty. Unfortunately, the plan works too well. Brad (Dustin Milligan), the moronic gigolo, not only finds it easy to lure Joel’s wife into bed, he also finds it easy to turn this one-time job into a lingering affair.
Meanwhile, Joel discovers that Cindy is not the sweet, honest girl that he thought she was. Instead, she is an underhanded con artist/petty thief who is threatening to bring his entire company to its knees. Joel sees his entire world crumbling around him, and all because he tried to combat his boredom with Hollywood shenanigans. Joel realizes that he never really wanted what he thought he wanted. In other words, his old life, though at times exasperating, provided comfort and contentment. Joel discovers that he was meant to be a small-time extract maker, not James Bond.
In “Extract”, Mike Judge does what he does best: he simultaneously glorifies and mocks the life of the average Joe. He creates characters that are at once over-the-top and yet strikingly familiar. He puts these characters into situations that seem outrageous, but that every member of the audience has somehow experienced. Mike Judge is the master of working class exasperation.
In Judge’s stories, it is interesting to note that the worst possible thing a character can do is attempt to be something that they are not. Although the desirability of fleeing from suburbia is palpable in the beginning of these stories, the actual act of fleeing serves only as a catalyst for misery, and the process of redemption is always identical to the process of coming back to where things started. It seems to be a transformation of attitude, not necessarily a transformation of lifestyle, which is the solution to chronic boredom, according to Judge. The most valuable lesson Judge’s characters can learn is that they are nothing special; or, rather, it is that their simplicity is precisely what makes them special.
“Extract” is not just interesting; it’s funny too. Jason Bateman is perfect for the role of the punching bag, and is supported by a whole slew of outrageous but believable characters. In particular, David Koechner, who plays Bateman’s neighbor Nathan, is a side-splitting rendition of the kind of vapid acquaintance that just won’t leave you alone. It seems to me that Judge’s work is successful only insofar as he can create characters that are both remarkably unreasonable and remarkably believable. In “Extract”, there are plenty to choose from.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
"The Hurt Locker"
By: Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
Most military heroes make their name by deftly destroying the enemy or perhaps by pulling a fellow soldier out of harm’s way; they either create ruthless havoc or shield friends from the havoc of others. In the widely acclaimed “The Hurt Locker”, one man recklessly puts himself and his friends in harm way while mastering the art of quieting the havoc. Whether or not he is a hero, this man is the Shakespeare of bomb diffusers—bold, courageous, and breathtaking to behold.
U.S. Army Staff Sergeant William James (Jeremy Renner) enters the Iraq War when his predecessor, Sergeant Matt Thompson (Guy Pearce), is killed while attempting to diffuse a bomb. James thus joins a bomb squad shaken by the loss of their beloved leader, and unfortunately, James’ brazen methodology and lackadaisical personality only serves to heighten the tensions of his new colleagues. Whereas the deceased Thompson observed every precaution and sweated the details, James slaps on the suit and strolls into harm’s way without a second thought. Thompson was visibly aware of the dangers that ended up killing him, while James seems no more concerned in fiddling with deadly bombs than he would be if he were fixing a carburetor.
James draws the ire of his equals but the praise of his superiors, the latter seeing James’ stunts as courageous and amusing. However, as time passes and countless bombs are successfully neutralized, even James’ nervous teammates cannot ignore the fact that James is a highly skilled bomb technician. He approaches a bomb with the same confidence that must have brought Rembrandt to the canvas or Mozart to the piano. He responds to the news that there is a bomb in the trunk of a car like one might respond to the news that there is a spider in the cupboard. “All right, I’ll take care of it,” he says. His confidence allows him to work quickly and efficiently, and his curiosity allows him to consider new possibilities and understand unheard of techniques employed by the enemy.
James’ teammates are counting down the days until they go home while James is playing a game. However, James’ seeming indifference to death does not keep him from feeling the pain of war. We see that he is compassionate, and is surprisingly affected by harm inflicted on others, particularly the innocent. The combination of his lack of care for the safety of himself and his extreme care for the safety of others make Sergeant James an ideal bomb diffuser. For James it is far better to save lives diffusing bombs than it is to take lives setting them off.
Each scene of “The Hurt Locker” is masterfully done. Director Kathryn Bigelow creates a realism that is both breathtakingly beautiful and devastatingly gruesome. This film is comprised of a succession of scenes that are mesmerizing and nerve-wracking; over two hours without a dull moment. What’s more, Jeremy Renner does a wonderful job as the implacable James.
And yet, this film lacks a strong narrative. While each scene is crafted well, the whole is not much more than the sum of its parts. There is no particular plot that the audience is meant to follow, meaning that we are dropped off rather near the place where we were picked up.
It certainly could be argued that this movie was a character study more than it was a war story, and what we learn of James’ character in the first half hour definitely provides the impetus for a great character study. But what is captivating about James is his peculiar indifference to death, and unfortunately what’s behind this odd character trait remains murky until the end. The first half of “The Hurt Locker”—the setup and rising action of the movie—is Oscar-worthy. But then the movie stalls, and in the end “The Hurt Locker” does not provide the climax or resolution worthy of its first half.
Coastal View News
Most military heroes make their name by deftly destroying the enemy or perhaps by pulling a fellow soldier out of harm’s way; they either create ruthless havoc or shield friends from the havoc of others. In the widely acclaimed “The Hurt Locker”, one man recklessly puts himself and his friends in harm way while mastering the art of quieting the havoc. Whether or not he is a hero, this man is the Shakespeare of bomb diffusers—bold, courageous, and breathtaking to behold.
U.S. Army Staff Sergeant William James (Jeremy Renner) enters the Iraq War when his predecessor, Sergeant Matt Thompson (Guy Pearce), is killed while attempting to diffuse a bomb. James thus joins a bomb squad shaken by the loss of their beloved leader, and unfortunately, James’ brazen methodology and lackadaisical personality only serves to heighten the tensions of his new colleagues. Whereas the deceased Thompson observed every precaution and sweated the details, James slaps on the suit and strolls into harm’s way without a second thought. Thompson was visibly aware of the dangers that ended up killing him, while James seems no more concerned in fiddling with deadly bombs than he would be if he were fixing a carburetor.
James draws the ire of his equals but the praise of his superiors, the latter seeing James’ stunts as courageous and amusing. However, as time passes and countless bombs are successfully neutralized, even James’ nervous teammates cannot ignore the fact that James is a highly skilled bomb technician. He approaches a bomb with the same confidence that must have brought Rembrandt to the canvas or Mozart to the piano. He responds to the news that there is a bomb in the trunk of a car like one might respond to the news that there is a spider in the cupboard. “All right, I’ll take care of it,” he says. His confidence allows him to work quickly and efficiently, and his curiosity allows him to consider new possibilities and understand unheard of techniques employed by the enemy.
James’ teammates are counting down the days until they go home while James is playing a game. However, James’ seeming indifference to death does not keep him from feeling the pain of war. We see that he is compassionate, and is surprisingly affected by harm inflicted on others, particularly the innocent. The combination of his lack of care for the safety of himself and his extreme care for the safety of others make Sergeant James an ideal bomb diffuser. For James it is far better to save lives diffusing bombs than it is to take lives setting them off.
Each scene of “The Hurt Locker” is masterfully done. Director Kathryn Bigelow creates a realism that is both breathtakingly beautiful and devastatingly gruesome. This film is comprised of a succession of scenes that are mesmerizing and nerve-wracking; over two hours without a dull moment. What’s more, Jeremy Renner does a wonderful job as the implacable James.
And yet, this film lacks a strong narrative. While each scene is crafted well, the whole is not much more than the sum of its parts. There is no particular plot that the audience is meant to follow, meaning that we are dropped off rather near the place where we were picked up.
It certainly could be argued that this movie was a character study more than it was a war story, and what we learn of James’ character in the first half hour definitely provides the impetus for a great character study. But what is captivating about James is his peculiar indifference to death, and unfortunately what’s behind this odd character trait remains murky until the end. The first half of “The Hurt Locker”—the setup and rising action of the movie—is Oscar-worthy. But then the movie stalls, and in the end “The Hurt Locker” does not provide the climax or resolution worthy of its first half.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
"Public Enemies"
By: Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
Director Michael Mann is the man when it comes to details. Whether it be the resonant crack of a Tommy gun or the grainy haze of a midnight confrontation, Mann seems to go to the greatest of lengths to provide an audience with experiences that are somehow sharper, realer and more pungent than other shootout flicks. “Public Enemies”, Michael Mann’s latest crime drama, incorporates the presence—the glamour—of the icon that is bank robber John Dillinger while simultaneously bringing it down to dirty, gritty earth.
The John Dillinger (Johnny Depp) of this film is as ruthless and calculating as one would like to think, but his warmth and care for the common person makes Dillinger the right kind of criminal—like Danny Ocean or Thomas Crown, the kind of thief that you can root for. Dillinger will shove a fellow conspirator out of a moving car for slipping up, but refuses to take the pocket change from a citizen hoping to deposit his dollars and cents. Johnny Depp might not be the Dillinger we are used to, but who cares?
After perpetrating a slew of bank robberies and picaresque ruses, Dillinger inevitably pits himself against the concerted efforts of high-ranking U. S. officials, who promise to restore order by defeating “public enemy number one.” Chief amongst these government officials is Melvin Purvis (Christian Bale), a straight-laced policeman whose methodical workmanship becomes famous for its ability to bring down the heavy hand of justice with booming resonance. It’s Dillinger versus Pervus, although this bout is more of a competitive sport for the former and an ominous battle for the latter.
Dillinger is used to dealing with inept local authorities, so Pervus’ persistent and well-funded attention becomes more than a bother before too long. Dillinger’s associates are dropping like flies, and the smirk that illuminates the face of public enemy number one is dimmed while Dillinger attempts to protect those around him. When the dark and beautiful Billie Frenchette (Marion Cotillard) enters the picture, Dillinger’s fun and games quickly become an earnest effort to protect the woman with whom he has fallen in love. Despite continual promises claiming that everything is going to be all right, Dillinger’s control is gradually wrenched from him by Pervus, the first lawman able to equal Dillinger’s cunning.
When it comes to crime dramas, it is surprising how much the details matter. For example, the mild popcorn popping sound of the machine guns wielded in James Bond films or other big budget action movies can easily create the sensation of being caught in a ludicrous arcade game. In contrast, each gunshot in Michael Mann movies, including “Public Enemies,” brings with it a loud and piercing resonance that demands the full attention of viewers; it disturbs the very air the audience breaths. If you could imagine sleeping through the gunfire in a movie, something isn’t right; like orange ketchup blood and robot sharks, weak gunfire reeks of phony bologna Hollywood effects. Anyone who has actually heard a gunshot knows that it is scary—it goes straight to the gut of a person, and shortly thereafter to at least two legs eager to fly away. An authentic gunshot may seem like a trifling detail, but this is precisely the kind of detail that can make or break a gangster movie. Mann’s scenes are real and jarring, and this effect ironically adds to the larger-than-life persona typically associated with depression-era outlaws like John Dillinger.
Johnny Depp’s performance is perfect for this movie, even if the character is a departure from other Dillinger portrayals. It strikes me as impossibly presumptuous and inevitably vain to worry too much about mimicking the true character of an historical figure so distorted by romance and propaganda. “Public Enemies” creates a Dillinger worth watching. The first half of the film lags a bit, but the second half delivers all that is to be expected from Mann—the intrigue of two geniuses on opposite sides of the law, the interest of the honorable villain, and yes, the jolt of Tommy guns piercing the still night air with strobing infernos erupting from their barrels.
“Public Enemies” is rated R for gangster violence and some language.
Coastal View News
Director Michael Mann is the man when it comes to details. Whether it be the resonant crack of a Tommy gun or the grainy haze of a midnight confrontation, Mann seems to go to the greatest of lengths to provide an audience with experiences that are somehow sharper, realer and more pungent than other shootout flicks. “Public Enemies”, Michael Mann’s latest crime drama, incorporates the presence—the glamour—of the icon that is bank robber John Dillinger while simultaneously bringing it down to dirty, gritty earth.
The John Dillinger (Johnny Depp) of this film is as ruthless and calculating as one would like to think, but his warmth and care for the common person makes Dillinger the right kind of criminal—like Danny Ocean or Thomas Crown, the kind of thief that you can root for. Dillinger will shove a fellow conspirator out of a moving car for slipping up, but refuses to take the pocket change from a citizen hoping to deposit his dollars and cents. Johnny Depp might not be the Dillinger we are used to, but who cares?
After perpetrating a slew of bank robberies and picaresque ruses, Dillinger inevitably pits himself against the concerted efforts of high-ranking U. S. officials, who promise to restore order by defeating “public enemy number one.” Chief amongst these government officials is Melvin Purvis (Christian Bale), a straight-laced policeman whose methodical workmanship becomes famous for its ability to bring down the heavy hand of justice with booming resonance. It’s Dillinger versus Pervus, although this bout is more of a competitive sport for the former and an ominous battle for the latter.
Dillinger is used to dealing with inept local authorities, so Pervus’ persistent and well-funded attention becomes more than a bother before too long. Dillinger’s associates are dropping like flies, and the smirk that illuminates the face of public enemy number one is dimmed while Dillinger attempts to protect those around him. When the dark and beautiful Billie Frenchette (Marion Cotillard) enters the picture, Dillinger’s fun and games quickly become an earnest effort to protect the woman with whom he has fallen in love. Despite continual promises claiming that everything is going to be all right, Dillinger’s control is gradually wrenched from him by Pervus, the first lawman able to equal Dillinger’s cunning.
When it comes to crime dramas, it is surprising how much the details matter. For example, the mild popcorn popping sound of the machine guns wielded in James Bond films or other big budget action movies can easily create the sensation of being caught in a ludicrous arcade game. In contrast, each gunshot in Michael Mann movies, including “Public Enemies,” brings with it a loud and piercing resonance that demands the full attention of viewers; it disturbs the very air the audience breaths. If you could imagine sleeping through the gunfire in a movie, something isn’t right; like orange ketchup blood and robot sharks, weak gunfire reeks of phony bologna Hollywood effects. Anyone who has actually heard a gunshot knows that it is scary—it goes straight to the gut of a person, and shortly thereafter to at least two legs eager to fly away. An authentic gunshot may seem like a trifling detail, but this is precisely the kind of detail that can make or break a gangster movie. Mann’s scenes are real and jarring, and this effect ironically adds to the larger-than-life persona typically associated with depression-era outlaws like John Dillinger.
Johnny Depp’s performance is perfect for this movie, even if the character is a departure from other Dillinger portrayals. It strikes me as impossibly presumptuous and inevitably vain to worry too much about mimicking the true character of an historical figure so distorted by romance and propaganda. “Public Enemies” creates a Dillinger worth watching. The first half of the film lags a bit, but the second half delivers all that is to be expected from Mann—the intrigue of two geniuses on opposite sides of the law, the interest of the honorable villain, and yes, the jolt of Tommy guns piercing the still night air with strobing infernos erupting from their barrels.
“Public Enemies” is rated R for gangster violence and some language.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
"Up"
By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
Pixar is still batting a thousand, which is clearly a record—a statistic itself sufficient to put the production company in the hall of fame. But Pixar does not settle for mere hits; they insist on hitting it out of the ballpark, and “Up” is no exception. “Up” is funny, instructive, entertaining, cute, visually stunning, but most of all touching.
His humble stature and harsh, square jaw misleadingly give the impression that Carl Fredrickson (Edward Asner) is a petty, curmudgeonly old man locked away in his memories and bitterness. In fact, Fredrickson is the biggest dreamer of them all. He has a heart two sizes too big and an imagination that travels places his eyes will never meet.
“Up” begins as a younger, rounder Fredrickson sits on the edge of his seat in an old movie, his eyes wide, having his imagination insatiably piqued by Limburg-esque world explorer, Charles Muntz (Christopher Plummer). Later that day, while buzzing along the sidewalk, hurdling ultra-perillous cracks in the pavement (with near the grace displayed by Muntz while zipping over the Andes) with leather helmet, goggles and all, Fredrickson finds his soul mate, his Ellie.
This buck-toothed, redheaded wonder possesses just as much love for adventure as Carl, and twice as much gusto for chasing it down. Little Carl Fredrickson’s wide eyes and gaping jaw are suddenly aimed at a new explorer—this one far more impressive than the last. Ellie jumps around the beaten walls of an abandoned house—her clubhouse—a mile-a-minute and a 10 words-per-second, while Carl silently stares in humbled awe. Though they have yet to see the age of 10, Carl and Ellie begin to plan their lives together. Ellie forces Carl to cross-his-heart-hope-to-die promise that he will take her to Paradise Falls someday. Carl willingly complies, and Ellie whips out a scrapbook, where she draws their clubhouse perched atop Paradise Falls. Ellie then apportions half the book for the adventures to be had once they get there.
As the years pass, Carl and Ellie travel through life together, never quite becoming the globetrotters once imagined, but always finding excitement and adventure in everyday life. The couple buys and renovates the house that was once their clubhouse. They save for their trip to Paradise Falls, but regularly empty their savings for life’s necessities. Just as his promise is about to be fulfilled, Carl is left without his Ellie. Fredrickson fiercely clings to his memories—to his house, pictures, and Ellie’s old sitting chair. It is not until his house is threatened by greedy developers that Fredrickson is shaken from his reverie. Instead of relenting, the 78-year-old Fredrickson ties thousands and thousands of balloons to his house and flies away. Destination: Paradise Falls.
Little does Fredrickson know that Russell (Jordan Nagai), a plump boy scout, was on the porch of the upward-bound house when it took off. The grumpy Mr. Fredrickson intends to drop Russell off on a tall skyscraper, but a storm pushes them off course. After a violent ruckus, Fredrickson awakens to find Russell guiding the house over the jungles of South America. Fredrickson manages to land the house mere miles from the sharp cliffs of Paradise Falls. The aging explorer is not about to give up now, so he walks his floating house, alongside Russell and a couple of pesky friends he meets on the way, toward the falls. Yet, the journey is not easy, as Fredrickson must overcome the harsh terrain and the wiles of an old icon in order to attain his dream. Fredrickson is stubborn and persistent, but he must learn to soften his heart in order to embody the adventurer’s spirit instilled in him by Ellie.
“Up” is the most touching of the Pixar films, and Carl Fredrickson is perhaps one of Pixar’s most endearing characters. This movie will make you cry as much as it will make you laugh and smile. Just when this movie appears to hit a lull, and the masterful dialogue seems to turn cliché and preachy, a short sequence of scenes strikes with a lightning bolt, an emotional epiphany, both potent and profound. Last year, “WALL-E” showed us the dangers of complacency—the decay of lives not lived. This year, “Up” shows us that life can be lived and adventure can be sought at any location, in any circumstance; that true explorers do not need to find exotic creatures or timeless artifacts. Carl Fredrickson is a simple man with few needs, but he embodies what he always admired in others by being willing to take risks and budge from his nostalgic rut in order to write the next chapter in the book he dreamt of as a child.
Coastal View News
Pixar is still batting a thousand, which is clearly a record—a statistic itself sufficient to put the production company in the hall of fame. But Pixar does not settle for mere hits; they insist on hitting it out of the ballpark, and “Up” is no exception. “Up” is funny, instructive, entertaining, cute, visually stunning, but most of all touching.
His humble stature and harsh, square jaw misleadingly give the impression that Carl Fredrickson (Edward Asner) is a petty, curmudgeonly old man locked away in his memories and bitterness. In fact, Fredrickson is the biggest dreamer of them all. He has a heart two sizes too big and an imagination that travels places his eyes will never meet.
“Up” begins as a younger, rounder Fredrickson sits on the edge of his seat in an old movie, his eyes wide, having his imagination insatiably piqued by Limburg-esque world explorer, Charles Muntz (Christopher Plummer). Later that day, while buzzing along the sidewalk, hurdling ultra-perillous cracks in the pavement (with near the grace displayed by Muntz while zipping over the Andes) with leather helmet, goggles and all, Fredrickson finds his soul mate, his Ellie.
This buck-toothed, redheaded wonder possesses just as much love for adventure as Carl, and twice as much gusto for chasing it down. Little Carl Fredrickson’s wide eyes and gaping jaw are suddenly aimed at a new explorer—this one far more impressive than the last. Ellie jumps around the beaten walls of an abandoned house—her clubhouse—a mile-a-minute and a 10 words-per-second, while Carl silently stares in humbled awe. Though they have yet to see the age of 10, Carl and Ellie begin to plan their lives together. Ellie forces Carl to cross-his-heart-hope-to-die promise that he will take her to Paradise Falls someday. Carl willingly complies, and Ellie whips out a scrapbook, where she draws their clubhouse perched atop Paradise Falls. Ellie then apportions half the book for the adventures to be had once they get there.
As the years pass, Carl and Ellie travel through life together, never quite becoming the globetrotters once imagined, but always finding excitement and adventure in everyday life. The couple buys and renovates the house that was once their clubhouse. They save for their trip to Paradise Falls, but regularly empty their savings for life’s necessities. Just as his promise is about to be fulfilled, Carl is left without his Ellie. Fredrickson fiercely clings to his memories—to his house, pictures, and Ellie’s old sitting chair. It is not until his house is threatened by greedy developers that Fredrickson is shaken from his reverie. Instead of relenting, the 78-year-old Fredrickson ties thousands and thousands of balloons to his house and flies away. Destination: Paradise Falls.
Little does Fredrickson know that Russell (Jordan Nagai), a plump boy scout, was on the porch of the upward-bound house when it took off. The grumpy Mr. Fredrickson intends to drop Russell off on a tall skyscraper, but a storm pushes them off course. After a violent ruckus, Fredrickson awakens to find Russell guiding the house over the jungles of South America. Fredrickson manages to land the house mere miles from the sharp cliffs of Paradise Falls. The aging explorer is not about to give up now, so he walks his floating house, alongside Russell and a couple of pesky friends he meets on the way, toward the falls. Yet, the journey is not easy, as Fredrickson must overcome the harsh terrain and the wiles of an old icon in order to attain his dream. Fredrickson is stubborn and persistent, but he must learn to soften his heart in order to embody the adventurer’s spirit instilled in him by Ellie.
“Up” is the most touching of the Pixar films, and Carl Fredrickson is perhaps one of Pixar’s most endearing characters. This movie will make you cry as much as it will make you laugh and smile. Just when this movie appears to hit a lull, and the masterful dialogue seems to turn cliché and preachy, a short sequence of scenes strikes with a lightning bolt, an emotional epiphany, both potent and profound. Last year, “WALL-E” showed us the dangers of complacency—the decay of lives not lived. This year, “Up” shows us that life can be lived and adventure can be sought at any location, in any circumstance; that true explorers do not need to find exotic creatures or timeless artifacts. Carl Fredrickson is a simple man with few needs, but he embodies what he always admired in others by being willing to take risks and budge from his nostalgic rut in order to write the next chapter in the book he dreamt of as a child.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
"Star Trek"
By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
In the late 1960s, “Star Trek” went boldly where no TV series had gone before. In the ensuing decades, “The Next Generation,” “Voyager,” “Deep Space Nine,” and several other Star Trek series, spin-offs and movies came onto the scene, some more boldly than others, all hoping to capture some of the magic and wonder so uniquely introduced by the likes of Captain Kirk and Professor Spock. Now, over 40 years later, director J. J. Abrams has brought both Trekkies and the sci-fi laity back to the beginning—actually, back before the beginning.
When the movie begins—before it all began—George Kirk (Chris Hemsworth) is realizing his potential at just the wrong moment. Under attack from an unknown vessel, Kirk takes over command of his own starship while the previous captain attempts to negotiate with a hostile force. Things take a turn for the worse just minutes after Kirk’s promotion, and the valiant Kirk goes down with the ship in order to protect his crew and newborn son.
George is therefore physically absent from his son’s (James Tiberius Kirk) childhood, though James does seem to channel the reckless bravado that made his father a legend. With some mild cajoling, James (Chris Pine) decides to enlist in the Starfleet Academy to follow in his father’s footsteps. James is cocky, bold, perhaps even foolhardy, but he is also brilliant. He knows how to lead better than anyone, but he also refuses to abide by rules or conventions. The future Captain James T. Kirk of Star Trek lore flies by the seat of his pants, relying on his gut to call the shots. This portrait contrasts with that of Spock (Zachary Quinto), a human/Vulcan mix who has embraced the Vulcan allegiance to impeccable logic. Spock is cool and in control, and at least appears to analyze life-threatening situations as if they were engendered in a petri dish.
Spock and James are quickly thrust into the thick of a mysterious and nefarious interaction with the same unidentified vessel that ended the life of James’ father. Just as before, the captain of the Starship—now the newly launched USS Starship Enterprise—boards the enemy vessel to negotiate a ceasefire with an enemy named Nero (Eric Bana). In actuality, Nero is implacable, as he only desires revenge for a past (or future, depending upon how you look at it) misunderstanding. After capturing the captain of the Enterprise, Nero destroys one planet and sets course to destroy Earth.
James and Spock are left at the helm of the Enterprise, but disagreements over the correct course of action complicate the cohesiveness of Nero’s opposition, thus threatening the fate of earth. In order to save earth and restore peace to the universe, James and Spock must learn to work together; they must balance each other’s contrasting dispositions. As the story unfolds, the familiar pieces of the Star Trek puzzle are put into place, yielding an inchoate yet formidable generation of science fiction heroes.
There is never a dull moment in the latest “Star Trek.” From beginning to end, this film flies at maximum warp, and yet somehow stays on track—that is, it does not get lost somewhere in outer space. The movie is fantastical and even cheesy at times, but as four decades of “Star Trek” has shown, these things often go hand-in-hand, with exhilarating results. However, while this movie is fantastical, it is not that fantastical. In other words, “Star Trek” is true to its galactic setting, but avoids most of the truly bizarre, otherworldly scenarios long associated with the series. This movie purchases action at the price of geeky science fiction. Of course, this could be seen as a good thing or a bad thing, depending upon whom you talk to. This year’s “Star Trek” is sure to have broader, non-Trekkie, appeal, but lacks some of the thought-provoking counterfactual scenarios that were once the hallmark of the original and subsequent series.
“Star Trek” is entertaining and worth watching. However, it strikes me that the original and ultimate appeal of the series is in its ability to provoke thought about the way things could have been, or the way things are in a far distant galaxy. Perhaps unlike any other science fiction endeavor, “Star Trek” has inspired wonder over scientific endeavor, human nature, and the boundaries of the universe. The most recent “Star Trek” is light on wonder, but hefty when it comes to action and adventure.
Coastal View News
In the late 1960s, “Star Trek” went boldly where no TV series had gone before. In the ensuing decades, “The Next Generation,” “Voyager,” “Deep Space Nine,” and several other Star Trek series, spin-offs and movies came onto the scene, some more boldly than others, all hoping to capture some of the magic and wonder so uniquely introduced by the likes of Captain Kirk and Professor Spock. Now, over 40 years later, director J. J. Abrams has brought both Trekkies and the sci-fi laity back to the beginning—actually, back before the beginning.
When the movie begins—before it all began—George Kirk (Chris Hemsworth) is realizing his potential at just the wrong moment. Under attack from an unknown vessel, Kirk takes over command of his own starship while the previous captain attempts to negotiate with a hostile force. Things take a turn for the worse just minutes after Kirk’s promotion, and the valiant Kirk goes down with the ship in order to protect his crew and newborn son.
George is therefore physically absent from his son’s (James Tiberius Kirk) childhood, though James does seem to channel the reckless bravado that made his father a legend. With some mild cajoling, James (Chris Pine) decides to enlist in the Starfleet Academy to follow in his father’s footsteps. James is cocky, bold, perhaps even foolhardy, but he is also brilliant. He knows how to lead better than anyone, but he also refuses to abide by rules or conventions. The future Captain James T. Kirk of Star Trek lore flies by the seat of his pants, relying on his gut to call the shots. This portrait contrasts with that of Spock (Zachary Quinto), a human/Vulcan mix who has embraced the Vulcan allegiance to impeccable logic. Spock is cool and in control, and at least appears to analyze life-threatening situations as if they were engendered in a petri dish.
Spock and James are quickly thrust into the thick of a mysterious and nefarious interaction with the same unidentified vessel that ended the life of James’ father. Just as before, the captain of the Starship—now the newly launched USS Starship Enterprise—boards the enemy vessel to negotiate a ceasefire with an enemy named Nero (Eric Bana). In actuality, Nero is implacable, as he only desires revenge for a past (or future, depending upon how you look at it) misunderstanding. After capturing the captain of the Enterprise, Nero destroys one planet and sets course to destroy Earth.
James and Spock are left at the helm of the Enterprise, but disagreements over the correct course of action complicate the cohesiveness of Nero’s opposition, thus threatening the fate of earth. In order to save earth and restore peace to the universe, James and Spock must learn to work together; they must balance each other’s contrasting dispositions. As the story unfolds, the familiar pieces of the Star Trek puzzle are put into place, yielding an inchoate yet formidable generation of science fiction heroes.
There is never a dull moment in the latest “Star Trek.” From beginning to end, this film flies at maximum warp, and yet somehow stays on track—that is, it does not get lost somewhere in outer space. The movie is fantastical and even cheesy at times, but as four decades of “Star Trek” has shown, these things often go hand-in-hand, with exhilarating results. However, while this movie is fantastical, it is not that fantastical. In other words, “Star Trek” is true to its galactic setting, but avoids most of the truly bizarre, otherworldly scenarios long associated with the series. This movie purchases action at the price of geeky science fiction. Of course, this could be seen as a good thing or a bad thing, depending upon whom you talk to. This year’s “Star Trek” is sure to have broader, non-Trekkie, appeal, but lacks some of the thought-provoking counterfactual scenarios that were once the hallmark of the original and subsequent series.
“Star Trek” is entertaining and worth watching. However, it strikes me that the original and ultimate appeal of the series is in its ability to provoke thought about the way things could have been, or the way things are in a far distant galaxy. Perhaps unlike any other science fiction endeavor, “Star Trek” has inspired wonder over scientific endeavor, human nature, and the boundaries of the universe. The most recent “Star Trek” is light on wonder, but hefty when it comes to action and adventure.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
"Adventureland"
By: Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
“Adventureland” is a well-executed, perfectly idyllic summer camp romance. Its style is as distinctive as it is attractive. Both funny and touching, “Adventureland” is without a doubt one of the best movies of the year.
James Brennan (Jesse Eisenberg) is a geeky-cool kid fresh out of college in the mid-1980s. Like most of his friends, James has enjoyed a life of relative comfort and privilege—his biggest challenge being the opposite sex. James’ future is falling into place, as he prepares to conquer graduate school and then the world.
Much to his chagrin, James’ bubble is burst when his plans for a European vacation and enrollment at Columbia graduate school are put on hold with his parents’ announcement that they can no longer afford James’ lifestyle. Instead of bouncing around Europe with wine in one hand and Hemmingway in the other, James is forced to do something he has never done before: enter the job market.
With no work experience and no leads, James plight becomes nightmarish as his options dwindle. Instead of working at some swanky corporation reflective of his intelligence, James must settle for a job at Adventureland, a hokey, cheesy local carnival. James mans the games section, meting out cheap stuffed animals to obnoxious ring tossers while listening to an endless play list of bad pop music.
Adjustment is no easy task for James. During his very first day on the job, James is robbed of a giant, stuffed panda bear. Luckily he is rescued by Em Lewin (Kristen Stewart), a fellow worker at Adventureland. Em quickly catches James’ eye while she shows him the ropes. The work remains demeaning, but James finds a cast of close friends like Em who share both James’ interests and his attitudes. This booze-drinking, pot-smoking crowd floats through life shaking their fists at adults with ironic gestures and savvy smiles. Life at Adventureland becomes the perfect summer fling with a healthy mix of groans and grins. Solidarity springs from misery.
It is not long before James falls in love with Em, who is dark, cool and perhaps even more ironic in her disposition than James. The pair is absolutely perfect for each other, and their friendship evolves naturally into a carefree romance. But while Adventureland provides an alternate universe perfect for nurturing the budding love, Em is troubled by stress at home and elsewhere. She feels trapped in a home full of phonies and hopelessly caught up in a lingering relationship with a married man.
James and Em are intoxicating characters and easy to root for. Amidst the waning summer days, the kind of drama that begs to be overcome threatens their relationship and the unity of the gang formed in the plywood booths of Adventureland. This cotton candy hell becomes the stomping ground for this pack of smart aleck twenty-somethings united by their miserable vocation and their youthful disdain for all things boring.
“Adventureland” is wonderfully written and acted. Jesse Eisenberg is enjoyably clever and Kristen Stewart flawlessly portrays the elusive summer beauty. This film celebrates youth without glorifying immaturity … well, for the most part. “Adventureland” clearly differs from superficial summer romps while also avoiding taking itself too seriously. It beautifully, almost painfully, captures that golden time in life just before responsibility becomes a mainstay. This deeply nostalgic movie has a distinctive retro style perfect for portraying the summers when bad decisions were not so bad; with characters who care about the right things yet aren’t afraid to act their age.
In addition to Eisenberg and Stewart, Matt Bush, Martin Starr and Bill Hader are hilarious and enriching. The subtle and smart humor of this movie fits its style. The characters are goofy but have good heads on their shoulders. They are screw-ups but destined for success. Thus, it is easy to love this cast. With summer just a few weeks away, “Adventureland” is the perfect way to celebrate the season.
Coastal View News
“Adventureland” is a well-executed, perfectly idyllic summer camp romance. Its style is as distinctive as it is attractive. Both funny and touching, “Adventureland” is without a doubt one of the best movies of the year.
James Brennan (Jesse Eisenberg) is a geeky-cool kid fresh out of college in the mid-1980s. Like most of his friends, James has enjoyed a life of relative comfort and privilege—his biggest challenge being the opposite sex. James’ future is falling into place, as he prepares to conquer graduate school and then the world.
Much to his chagrin, James’ bubble is burst when his plans for a European vacation and enrollment at Columbia graduate school are put on hold with his parents’ announcement that they can no longer afford James’ lifestyle. Instead of bouncing around Europe with wine in one hand and Hemmingway in the other, James is forced to do something he has never done before: enter the job market.
With no work experience and no leads, James plight becomes nightmarish as his options dwindle. Instead of working at some swanky corporation reflective of his intelligence, James must settle for a job at Adventureland, a hokey, cheesy local carnival. James mans the games section, meting out cheap stuffed animals to obnoxious ring tossers while listening to an endless play list of bad pop music.
Adjustment is no easy task for James. During his very first day on the job, James is robbed of a giant, stuffed panda bear. Luckily he is rescued by Em Lewin (Kristen Stewart), a fellow worker at Adventureland. Em quickly catches James’ eye while she shows him the ropes. The work remains demeaning, but James finds a cast of close friends like Em who share both James’ interests and his attitudes. This booze-drinking, pot-smoking crowd floats through life shaking their fists at adults with ironic gestures and savvy smiles. Life at Adventureland becomes the perfect summer fling with a healthy mix of groans and grins. Solidarity springs from misery.
It is not long before James falls in love with Em, who is dark, cool and perhaps even more ironic in her disposition than James. The pair is absolutely perfect for each other, and their friendship evolves naturally into a carefree romance. But while Adventureland provides an alternate universe perfect for nurturing the budding love, Em is troubled by stress at home and elsewhere. She feels trapped in a home full of phonies and hopelessly caught up in a lingering relationship with a married man.
James and Em are intoxicating characters and easy to root for. Amidst the waning summer days, the kind of drama that begs to be overcome threatens their relationship and the unity of the gang formed in the plywood booths of Adventureland. This cotton candy hell becomes the stomping ground for this pack of smart aleck twenty-somethings united by their miserable vocation and their youthful disdain for all things boring.
“Adventureland” is wonderfully written and acted. Jesse Eisenberg is enjoyably clever and Kristen Stewart flawlessly portrays the elusive summer beauty. This film celebrates youth without glorifying immaturity … well, for the most part. “Adventureland” clearly differs from superficial summer romps while also avoiding taking itself too seriously. It beautifully, almost painfully, captures that golden time in life just before responsibility becomes a mainstay. This deeply nostalgic movie has a distinctive retro style perfect for portraying the summers when bad decisions were not so bad; with characters who care about the right things yet aren’t afraid to act their age.
In addition to Eisenberg and Stewart, Matt Bush, Martin Starr and Bill Hader are hilarious and enriching. The subtle and smart humor of this movie fits its style. The characters are goofy but have good heads on their shoulders. They are screw-ups but destined for success. Thus, it is easy to love this cast. With summer just a few weeks away, “Adventureland” is the perfect way to celebrate the season.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
"Watchmen"
By: Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
Rich, complex novels often make for terrible films. The subtle detail that turns pages can zoom by at 24 frames per second. Unfortunately, “Watchmen” is one of those movies. Instead of wowing the audience with the action and drama expected from a superhero flick, this film meanders and lags. “Watchmen” is a prelude; a labyrinth plot that never becomes a story.
The time is the mid-1980s. The place is New York City. President Richard Nixon is surviving his fifth term in the White House, trying to avoid the annihilation of the human race threatened by an impending nuclear war with Russia. The Watchmen are a band of retired crime fighters, once credited with keeping America safe, but forced out of service by a no-mask law instituted by Nixon. For the most part, these heroes lack extraordinary superpowers; they are talented, but mere citizens with socially conscious parents. There is the Comedian (Jeffrey Dean Morgan), for example, who is a brash, satirical cowboy who, in his day, blurred the line between hero and villain. Or there is the Night Owl (Patrick Wilson), who is a batmanesque avenger with a soft heart but hard fists.
New York is becoming a haven for criminals and America is heading for nuclear war, but these vigilantes have nothing to do but drink beer and reminisce about the good old days. But when The Comedian is suddenly and viciously murdered, the Watchmen’s interest is aroused. While the impulse to act remains, the retired avengers have grown comfortable and complacent in their normal, everyday lives. Yet, just when the ever-mounting threat of perpetual violence rises to a crescendo, the heroes of yore decide to don the masks once again in the name of justice.
The plot thickens and the superheroes divide their time between cleaning up the streets, discovering the identity of the culprit behind the Comedian’s murder, and preventing a nuclear holocaust. As is to be expected with a mass of apparently unsolvable superhero problems, the issues are inextricably linked. Now back in action, the Watchmen must search their souls to determine their true place in the world, and to decide where their loyalties lie. While each character has his or her own impulses, each must weigh the value of peace on the one hand, and justice on the other. Are the true heroes those who make the world a better place by any means, or those who do the right thing no matter how much bloodshed ensues?
“Watchmen” is two hours and 43 minutes long. The first two hours is a preamble to a story that never develops. The next 20 minutes are a chaotic but stimulating distraction, and the final 20 minutes … well, who cares? Amid the constellation of political jabs and intellectual quips, there are rather few eye-catching moments and even fewer interesting developments. The feigned intellect of the otherworldly Dr. Manhattan (Billy Crudup) (who sighs, “If only you experienced time as I do”) and the ridiculous, plastic hair of Ozymandias (Matthew Goode) are merely obnoxious stabs at creating flamboyant superstars. That is, these superheroes are not campy; they are just downright cheesy.
The graphic novel upon which this movie is based is a classic, but the movie is highly forgettable. If the so-called intrigue contained in each character was developed individually into movies called “Dr. Manhattan” or “Ozymandias”, there might be something worth seeing. That is, divide and conquer may have been a better strategy for director Zack Snyder. At it is, “Watchmen” is a slapdash mishmash of nonsense. What’s worse, it is almost three hours worth of nonsense.
Coastal View News
Rich, complex novels often make for terrible films. The subtle detail that turns pages can zoom by at 24 frames per second. Unfortunately, “Watchmen” is one of those movies. Instead of wowing the audience with the action and drama expected from a superhero flick, this film meanders and lags. “Watchmen” is a prelude; a labyrinth plot that never becomes a story.
The time is the mid-1980s. The place is New York City. President Richard Nixon is surviving his fifth term in the White House, trying to avoid the annihilation of the human race threatened by an impending nuclear war with Russia. The Watchmen are a band of retired crime fighters, once credited with keeping America safe, but forced out of service by a no-mask law instituted by Nixon. For the most part, these heroes lack extraordinary superpowers; they are talented, but mere citizens with socially conscious parents. There is the Comedian (Jeffrey Dean Morgan), for example, who is a brash, satirical cowboy who, in his day, blurred the line between hero and villain. Or there is the Night Owl (Patrick Wilson), who is a batmanesque avenger with a soft heart but hard fists.
New York is becoming a haven for criminals and America is heading for nuclear war, but these vigilantes have nothing to do but drink beer and reminisce about the good old days. But when The Comedian is suddenly and viciously murdered, the Watchmen’s interest is aroused. While the impulse to act remains, the retired avengers have grown comfortable and complacent in their normal, everyday lives. Yet, just when the ever-mounting threat of perpetual violence rises to a crescendo, the heroes of yore decide to don the masks once again in the name of justice.
The plot thickens and the superheroes divide their time between cleaning up the streets, discovering the identity of the culprit behind the Comedian’s murder, and preventing a nuclear holocaust. As is to be expected with a mass of apparently unsolvable superhero problems, the issues are inextricably linked. Now back in action, the Watchmen must search their souls to determine their true place in the world, and to decide where their loyalties lie. While each character has his or her own impulses, each must weigh the value of peace on the one hand, and justice on the other. Are the true heroes those who make the world a better place by any means, or those who do the right thing no matter how much bloodshed ensues?
“Watchmen” is two hours and 43 minutes long. The first two hours is a preamble to a story that never develops. The next 20 minutes are a chaotic but stimulating distraction, and the final 20 minutes … well, who cares? Amid the constellation of political jabs and intellectual quips, there are rather few eye-catching moments and even fewer interesting developments. The feigned intellect of the otherworldly Dr. Manhattan (Billy Crudup) (who sighs, “If only you experienced time as I do”) and the ridiculous, plastic hair of Ozymandias (Matthew Goode) are merely obnoxious stabs at creating flamboyant superstars. That is, these superheroes are not campy; they are just downright cheesy.
The graphic novel upon which this movie is based is a classic, but the movie is highly forgettable. If the so-called intrigue contained in each character was developed individually into movies called “Dr. Manhattan” or “Ozymandias”, there might be something worth seeing. That is, divide and conquer may have been a better strategy for director Zack Snyder. At it is, “Watchmen” is a slapdash mishmash of nonsense. What’s worse, it is almost three hours worth of nonsense.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
"The Wrestler"
By: Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
Method acting is a technique whereby an actor or actress fully embraces the lifestyle, emotions and characteristics of the person being portrayed on screen. Whether or not this was the technique previously employed by the estranged Mickey Rourke, the process of getting inside the mind of Randy “The Ram” Robinson—a washed-up, beat-up, screwed-up old wrestler—may have been more self-reflective than self-emptying. Rourke and the Ram attempt to simultaneously resurrect their careers in “The Wrestler,” a powerfully emotional and subtly profound look at aging, redemption and salvation.
In the world of professional wrestling—the kind with folding chairs and body slams, not the kind with headgear and grappling—the Ram was once a god. He was the people’s champion, defeating such frightening and evil opponents as the “Ayatollah.” In the minds of his fans, the Ram defended the ring, the American homeland and all that is sacred.
However, with age and experience come aches, pains and a restless constituency. Once on top of the world, the Ram is relegated to high school performances and backroom shows, testing his patience, wallet and ego. Whereas before the Ram’s successes appeared to outweigh his failures, he is now confronted with all the mistakes he made during those years; mistakes for which he is now accountable. Among them is his forgotten and neglected daughter Stephanie (Evan Rachel Wood), who wants nothing to do with her father after years of missed birthdays.
The Ram—now merely ‘Randy’—clings to the comfort and advice of an aging stripper named Cassidy (Marisa Tomei), with whom Randy has fallen in love. However, Cassidy has her own world of hurt and responsibility to reckon with—a world analogous to Randy’s—and is reluctant to team up with her long-time, bruised and broken customer.
Amidst the social chaos, Randy suffers a life-threatening and career-ending heart attack, leaving him more impotent and broken than before. As Randy struggles to regain the affection of his daughter and the love of Cassidy, he fights the dangerous desire to return to the world of wrestling—the only audience suitable for Randy’s talents.
Although the apparent drama in “The Wrestler” is in no short supply, perhaps the most interesting thread of the film is covert religious imagery that underpins the entire film. The audience is starkly introduced to this theme when, after Randy tells Cassidy about his injuries, she flatly quotes the Bible: “He was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.” An injury to his side and a tattoo of Jesus on his back further establish the presence of this allegory between Christ and the “sacrificial Ram.”
Yet, this is no Sunday school allegory. The Ram is hardly perfect, and although he has a strong sense of responsibility and the need to make everything right, the Ram constantly comes up short. He is unable to provide for the needs of those closest to him, and he is never present when his presence is most needed. Instead, the Ram’s whole life and career is nothing more than a childish sham, where a certain ideology is praised and worshiped without reflection. Although it seems as if the Ram’s tenure is ending, the tired wrestler declares to his fans, “The only one that's going to tell me when I'm through doing my thing is you people here.” In response, an arena full of followers applauds with religious zeal.
Religion aside, it is not difficult to empathize with the Ram. Although he is worshipped in certain settings, Randy is deeply human. He wants to do what is right and even provide something greater to those who love him, but he is simply incapable of keeping up with the past and future. Although his responsibilities multiply, Randy turns to the only world that appreciates him.
This movie is raw and gritty. Rourke certainly rises to the demands of this performance and Tomei adds a good deal to the film. “The Wrestler” has something for everyone: streams of interpersonal drama as well as deeper undercurrents.
“The Wrestler” is rated R for violence, sexuality/nudity, language and some drug use.
Coastal View News
Method acting is a technique whereby an actor or actress fully embraces the lifestyle, emotions and characteristics of the person being portrayed on screen. Whether or not this was the technique previously employed by the estranged Mickey Rourke, the process of getting inside the mind of Randy “The Ram” Robinson—a washed-up, beat-up, screwed-up old wrestler—may have been more self-reflective than self-emptying. Rourke and the Ram attempt to simultaneously resurrect their careers in “The Wrestler,” a powerfully emotional and subtly profound look at aging, redemption and salvation.
In the world of professional wrestling—the kind with folding chairs and body slams, not the kind with headgear and grappling—the Ram was once a god. He was the people’s champion, defeating such frightening and evil opponents as the “Ayatollah.” In the minds of his fans, the Ram defended the ring, the American homeland and all that is sacred.
However, with age and experience come aches, pains and a restless constituency. Once on top of the world, the Ram is relegated to high school performances and backroom shows, testing his patience, wallet and ego. Whereas before the Ram’s successes appeared to outweigh his failures, he is now confronted with all the mistakes he made during those years; mistakes for which he is now accountable. Among them is his forgotten and neglected daughter Stephanie (Evan Rachel Wood), who wants nothing to do with her father after years of missed birthdays.
The Ram—now merely ‘Randy’—clings to the comfort and advice of an aging stripper named Cassidy (Marisa Tomei), with whom Randy has fallen in love. However, Cassidy has her own world of hurt and responsibility to reckon with—a world analogous to Randy’s—and is reluctant to team up with her long-time, bruised and broken customer.
Amidst the social chaos, Randy suffers a life-threatening and career-ending heart attack, leaving him more impotent and broken than before. As Randy struggles to regain the affection of his daughter and the love of Cassidy, he fights the dangerous desire to return to the world of wrestling—the only audience suitable for Randy’s talents.
Although the apparent drama in “The Wrestler” is in no short supply, perhaps the most interesting thread of the film is covert religious imagery that underpins the entire film. The audience is starkly introduced to this theme when, after Randy tells Cassidy about his injuries, she flatly quotes the Bible: “He was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.” An injury to his side and a tattoo of Jesus on his back further establish the presence of this allegory between Christ and the “sacrificial Ram.”
Yet, this is no Sunday school allegory. The Ram is hardly perfect, and although he has a strong sense of responsibility and the need to make everything right, the Ram constantly comes up short. He is unable to provide for the needs of those closest to him, and he is never present when his presence is most needed. Instead, the Ram’s whole life and career is nothing more than a childish sham, where a certain ideology is praised and worshiped without reflection. Although it seems as if the Ram’s tenure is ending, the tired wrestler declares to his fans, “The only one that's going to tell me when I'm through doing my thing is you people here.” In response, an arena full of followers applauds with religious zeal.
Religion aside, it is not difficult to empathize with the Ram. Although he is worshipped in certain settings, Randy is deeply human. He wants to do what is right and even provide something greater to those who love him, but he is simply incapable of keeping up with the past and future. Although his responsibilities multiply, Randy turns to the only world that appreciates him.
This movie is raw and gritty. Rourke certainly rises to the demands of this performance and Tomei adds a good deal to the film. “The Wrestler” has something for everyone: streams of interpersonal drama as well as deeper undercurrents.
“The Wrestler” is rated R for violence, sexuality/nudity, language and some drug use.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button"
By: Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
Both mysterious and tragic, Benjamin Button was born old and died
young. "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button," starring Brad Pitt and
Cate Blanchett, apes the dancing historical plot of "Forrest Gump" but
lacks nearly all of Gump's heart, sympathy and profundity. Star power
could not rescue this mundane three-hour marathon, making Pitt's
caked-on makeup the most interesting aspect of the film.
The unfortunate Benjamin Button (Brad Pitt) was born in New Orleans
amidst cries of victory after the close of World War I. Like a normal
baby, Button possessed a meager stature and fragile frame. However,
the weakness shrouding Button's body was not the softness of youth but
instead was the worn muscles and calcified bones of old age. Instead
of smooth, delicate skin, Button's baby face looked more like an old
catcher's mitt.
With his mother dead and his father unwilling to raise him, Button is
appropriately abandoned on the doorstep of an old folks' home. The
owner, Mrs. Baker (Faune Chambers), and the aging residents of the
home take to the abnormal child as if he were one of their own.
Although the residents do not realize Button is younger than most of
their grandchildren, those who come into contact with him cannot help
but recognize that something is different. Instead of growing older
with time, Button ages in reverse. Instead of taking his first steps
away from a crib or stroller, he walks away from a wheelchair. Instead
of training wheels, Button uses canes to steady himself.
With the body of an old man but the curiosity of a young boy, Button
sets out to see the world. He finds his way aboard a tug boat, and
lets the currents take him where they may. He goes to Russia and
England, and even plays a role in World War II. Along the way he meets
strange women and has new experiences. He takes his first drink when
he looks to be 70 and is with a woman for the first time only shortly
thereafter.
Amidst these salty adventures, Button longs for Daisy (Cate
Blanchett), a girl he knew and loved while growing up in New Orleans.
Button knows Daisy as a young girl and Daisy knows Button as an old
man, yet the pair keeps in touch while they each chart their own
paths. Eventually Button and Daisy find their way back to each other
and fall in love. For several years (but merely ten or so minutes of
the film), Button and Daisy embark upon their adventures together with
rigorous passion, seemingly unaware of the implications of time.
Both Button and Daisy age, move inevitably through time, but in
opposite directions. While Daisy deals with wrinkles and joint pain,
Button gets stronger, sharper, but further away from the woman he
loves. When the time-accosted lovers learn they are to have a child,
Button must decide to stay or leave. Although Button and Daisy meet in
the middle for a few beautiful years, Benjamin Button ages just like
any other person. The true tragedy is not the in inevitability of
change, but in the peculiar current that continually pushes Button
further and further away from those he loves.
"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" is intriguing at first, but
whatever scaffolding is meant to buttress the audience's curiosity is
none too interesting. Just like Forrest Gump, Benjamin Button is an
out-of-place Southerner who experiences only brief and often painful
encounters with the woman he loves while he is simultaneously
embarking on great historical adventures. But Gump is loving, kind,
loyal—unknowingly remarkable. Gump fits seamlessly into history and
the audience gets it. Button, on the other hand, is flat and static.
His character does not change—neither matures nor becomes more
immature—and the most vivacity we see from him is while he rides a
motorcycle. Instead of showing the passage of time through the
characters' relationship to historical events, "The Curious Case of
Benjamin Button" pointlessly augments its scope with a slapdash
assortment of events that go nowhere and have no significance to the
story.
This film has interest built in, and some may argue that Button's
humanity is realistic and thus a virtue of the film. However, it seems
to me that "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" is remarkably
unremarkable.
"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" is rated PG-13 for brief war
violence, sexual content, language and smoking.
Coastal View News
Both mysterious and tragic, Benjamin Button was born old and died
young. "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button," starring Brad Pitt and
Cate Blanchett, apes the dancing historical plot of "Forrest Gump" but
lacks nearly all of Gump's heart, sympathy and profundity. Star power
could not rescue this mundane three-hour marathon, making Pitt's
caked-on makeup the most interesting aspect of the film.
The unfortunate Benjamin Button (Brad Pitt) was born in New Orleans
amidst cries of victory after the close of World War I. Like a normal
baby, Button possessed a meager stature and fragile frame. However,
the weakness shrouding Button's body was not the softness of youth but
instead was the worn muscles and calcified bones of old age. Instead
of smooth, delicate skin, Button's baby face looked more like an old
catcher's mitt.
With his mother dead and his father unwilling to raise him, Button is
appropriately abandoned on the doorstep of an old folks' home. The
owner, Mrs. Baker (Faune Chambers), and the aging residents of the
home take to the abnormal child as if he were one of their own.
Although the residents do not realize Button is younger than most of
their grandchildren, those who come into contact with him cannot help
but recognize that something is different. Instead of growing older
with time, Button ages in reverse. Instead of taking his first steps
away from a crib or stroller, he walks away from a wheelchair. Instead
of training wheels, Button uses canes to steady himself.
With the body of an old man but the curiosity of a young boy, Button
sets out to see the world. He finds his way aboard a tug boat, and
lets the currents take him where they may. He goes to Russia and
England, and even plays a role in World War II. Along the way he meets
strange women and has new experiences. He takes his first drink when
he looks to be 70 and is with a woman for the first time only shortly
thereafter.
Amidst these salty adventures, Button longs for Daisy (Cate
Blanchett), a girl he knew and loved while growing up in New Orleans.
Button knows Daisy as a young girl and Daisy knows Button as an old
man, yet the pair keeps in touch while they each chart their own
paths. Eventually Button and Daisy find their way back to each other
and fall in love. For several years (but merely ten or so minutes of
the film), Button and Daisy embark upon their adventures together with
rigorous passion, seemingly unaware of the implications of time.
Both Button and Daisy age, move inevitably through time, but in
opposite directions. While Daisy deals with wrinkles and joint pain,
Button gets stronger, sharper, but further away from the woman he
loves. When the time-accosted lovers learn they are to have a child,
Button must decide to stay or leave. Although Button and Daisy meet in
the middle for a few beautiful years, Benjamin Button ages just like
any other person. The true tragedy is not the in inevitability of
change, but in the peculiar current that continually pushes Button
further and further away from those he loves.
"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" is intriguing at first, but
whatever scaffolding is meant to buttress the audience's curiosity is
none too interesting. Just like Forrest Gump, Benjamin Button is an
out-of-place Southerner who experiences only brief and often painful
encounters with the woman he loves while he is simultaneously
embarking on great historical adventures. But Gump is loving, kind,
loyal—unknowingly remarkable. Gump fits seamlessly into history and
the audience gets it. Button, on the other hand, is flat and static.
His character does not change—neither matures nor becomes more
immature—and the most vivacity we see from him is while he rides a
motorcycle. Instead of showing the passage of time through the
characters' relationship to historical events, "The Curious Case of
Benjamin Button" pointlessly augments its scope with a slapdash
assortment of events that go nowhere and have no significance to the
story.
This film has interest built in, and some may argue that Button's
humanity is realistic and thus a virtue of the film. However, it seems
to me that "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" is remarkably
unremarkable.
"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" is rated PG-13 for brief war
violence, sexual content, language and smoking.
"Milk"
By: Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
“My name is Harvey Milk, and I am here to recruit you.” At a time when passionate disagreement over ideology continues to rend many parts of the country, “Milk” is a stirring, thought-provoking and worthy film.
“Milk” is the story of Harvey Milk, the first openly homosexual man to be elected to major office in America. When this story begins, Milk is a simple and private man looking for the same kind of happiness enjoyed by many Americans. Milk runs away to San Francisco with his lover (James Franco) in order to live a simple, fulfilling life. However, when Milk and Smith decide to open up a camera supply store they are confronted with the harsh reality of prejudice. In response to the lack of acceptance experienced by those wishing to put Milk and Smith out of business, Milk decides to fight back.
The once reserved businessman organizes the gay population of San Francisco to form a powerful network of mutual support, ironically leading to financial demise of those who once promised to deliver a similar fate to Milk. With the homosexual community behind him, Milk gradually becomes more active and outspoken about the injustices experienced by the gay community.
Much to the chagrin of the pacifistic Smith, Milk decides to run for local supervisor. After several defeats and methodological refinements, Milk is finally elected to office. Yet, for Milk, winning is not what is most important. What is most important is getting the word out, making an impression, and raising questions and doubts in the minds of others. Milk discovers that it was not he who was running for office; it was a cause that was really on the ballot.
Once in office, Milk continues to fight for the equal treatment for homosexuals. Milk faces fierce prejudice in addition to the normal political wrenching, the latter facilitated by fellow supervisor Dan White (Josh Brolin). Milk makes gay rights a national issue by combating the likes of Anita Bryant and Senator John Briggs, who are both campaigning to repeal laws that make it illegal to discriminate in matters of business and education on the basis of sexual orientation. Bryant and Briggs cite the law of God as reason to root out and eliminate homosexuality in America. Just as two massive currents pour inevitably onward toward each other, Briggs and Milk face off in an iconic battle over what it means to say “all men are created equal.”
As with many stories, the story of Harvey Milk is not so much about the beginning and the end as it is about the in-between. Milk, once a shy and guarded businessman, became the voice of a passionate movement for equality. Milk, looking for peace, love and happiness, was struck down in his prime. These are the givens of the story—the aspects known to the audience from the outset. What is not necessarily known, and what really matters, is the humanity behind the movement. Milk may have been running on an issue, but it is Milk the man who brings the issue to the hearts and minds of the nation. For better or worse, “Milk” blurs the line between a person and an ideology.
Sean Penn is positively dazzling in this film—he is the undeniable highlight. No other actor or actress lags too far behind, but Penn’s performance will bring tears to your eyes just as much as it will bring ideas to your mind. Writer Dustin Lance Black and director Gus van Sant do a fine job developing what it means to be normal and accepted by comparing Milk’s private life with his public life; his desire for peace with his desire for change. The supposed tragic flaw of the hero in this tale is precisely what makes him happy and gives him hope. Milk chooses to hope and fight rather than be told who to be.
This movie is touching, funny, and raises issues worth grappling with. The score and cadence of plot progression contribute keep the viewer involved and interested. “Milk” reminds us that there are real people behind even the most polarizing of issues, and although wise people differ ideologically, the wisest find a way to love and respect each other.
“Milk” is rated R for language, some sexual content and brief violence.
--Originally Printing in Coastal View News--
Coastal View News
“My name is Harvey Milk, and I am here to recruit you.” At a time when passionate disagreement over ideology continues to rend many parts of the country, “Milk” is a stirring, thought-provoking and worthy film.
“Milk” is the story of Harvey Milk, the first openly homosexual man to be elected to major office in America. When this story begins, Milk is a simple and private man looking for the same kind of happiness enjoyed by many Americans. Milk runs away to San Francisco with his lover (James Franco) in order to live a simple, fulfilling life. However, when Milk and Smith decide to open up a camera supply store they are confronted with the harsh reality of prejudice. In response to the lack of acceptance experienced by those wishing to put Milk and Smith out of business, Milk decides to fight back.
The once reserved businessman organizes the gay population of San Francisco to form a powerful network of mutual support, ironically leading to financial demise of those who once promised to deliver a similar fate to Milk. With the homosexual community behind him, Milk gradually becomes more active and outspoken about the injustices experienced by the gay community.
Much to the chagrin of the pacifistic Smith, Milk decides to run for local supervisor. After several defeats and methodological refinements, Milk is finally elected to office. Yet, for Milk, winning is not what is most important. What is most important is getting the word out, making an impression, and raising questions and doubts in the minds of others. Milk discovers that it was not he who was running for office; it was a cause that was really on the ballot.
Once in office, Milk continues to fight for the equal treatment for homosexuals. Milk faces fierce prejudice in addition to the normal political wrenching, the latter facilitated by fellow supervisor Dan White (Josh Brolin). Milk makes gay rights a national issue by combating the likes of Anita Bryant and Senator John Briggs, who are both campaigning to repeal laws that make it illegal to discriminate in matters of business and education on the basis of sexual orientation. Bryant and Briggs cite the law of God as reason to root out and eliminate homosexuality in America. Just as two massive currents pour inevitably onward toward each other, Briggs and Milk face off in an iconic battle over what it means to say “all men are created equal.”
As with many stories, the story of Harvey Milk is not so much about the beginning and the end as it is about the in-between. Milk, once a shy and guarded businessman, became the voice of a passionate movement for equality. Milk, looking for peace, love and happiness, was struck down in his prime. These are the givens of the story—the aspects known to the audience from the outset. What is not necessarily known, and what really matters, is the humanity behind the movement. Milk may have been running on an issue, but it is Milk the man who brings the issue to the hearts and minds of the nation. For better or worse, “Milk” blurs the line between a person and an ideology.
Sean Penn is positively dazzling in this film—he is the undeniable highlight. No other actor or actress lags too far behind, but Penn’s performance will bring tears to your eyes just as much as it will bring ideas to your mind. Writer Dustin Lance Black and director Gus van Sant do a fine job developing what it means to be normal and accepted by comparing Milk’s private life with his public life; his desire for peace with his desire for change. The supposed tragic flaw of the hero in this tale is precisely what makes him happy and gives him hope. Milk chooses to hope and fight rather than be told who to be.
This movie is touching, funny, and raises issues worth grappling with. The score and cadence of plot progression contribute keep the viewer involved and interested. “Milk” reminds us that there are real people behind even the most polarizing of issues, and although wise people differ ideologically, the wisest find a way to love and respect each other.
“Milk” is rated R for language, some sexual content and brief violence.
--Originally Printing in Coastal View News--
"Quantum of Solace"
By: Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
Innumerable vanquished villains, countless wild and romantic love affairs, decades of swanky cinema and just one man behind it all: James Bond. Bond has gotten tougher, meaner and still cleverer in the past few years, with the help of the new blonde Bond, Daniel Craig. With Craig came more substance and a reason to suspend disbelief. “Quantum of Solace” cashes in some of the substance but none of the style accrued in “Casino Royale” for more guns, explosions, sweat and blood. “Quantum of Solace” is plenty entertaining, but well shy of inspiring.
In “Quantum of Solace” the once imperturbable James Bond (Daniel Craig) is fighting not only for God, queen and country, but also for revenge. Still beleaguered by questions and regrets after having lost Vesper Lynd (Eva Green)—the one woman for whom Bond was willing to sacrifice everything—the only stable aspect of Bond’s return to MI6 is his ruthless ability. Bond has a duty to follow orders, but a desire to avenge his loss. On the one hand is a covert organization called “Quantum” implicated in the plot that resulted in the death of Lynd. On the other hand is Dominic Greene (Mathieu Amalric), a very wealthy, very shrewd and very well-connected environmentalist businessman.
When Bond travels to Haiti to investigate Quantum, he runs across the scheming and nefarious Greene. Bond discovers that Greene is attempting to grab economic power in South America by toppling the current government and replacing it with the corrupt General Madrano (Joaquin Cosio). The only thing Greene appears to be seeking in return is the deed to an arid, useless portion of South American desert. Of course, unbeknownst to the general, the land is rich with valuable oil and water. Bond smells a rat and ignores M’s (Judi Dench) insistence that he stay on task. While investigating Greene, Bond is drawn into a relationship with Camille (Olga Kurylenko), who is attempting to exact her own revenge against general Medrano (Joaquin Cosio) for killing her family in cold blood.
The plot thickens as more is discovered about Greene’s intentions, and as the American government is drawn into a business relationship with Greene. Bond, who always plays by his own rules, becomes increasingly unpopular as he dodges bullets from eco-terrorists, corrupt Americans, and the fed-up MI6 leadership. The seemingly disparate plots begin to tangle and cohere, and Bond is left to sort it all out.
“Quantum of Solace” begins and ends with reference to “Casino Royale,” and in the meantime fails to create its own, powerful narrative. All films in a series connect in various ways to prequels and sequels, but all good films in a series also tell their own unique portion of the tale in a coherent manner. Unfortunately the story behind “Quantum of Solace” is somehow lost in the shuffle. It is up for debate whether the true currency of James Bond films is plot or action, brains or brawn. “Casino Royale” revived the series with an exceptionally brawny Daniel Craig, but perhaps even more importantly, with a clever script. In “Quantum of Solace” Craig is brawnier than ever, but at the expense of the intellectual intrigue that caught the eye of many viewers when Craig first came on. The result is a very exciting and entertaining film that lacks substance. Given the outrageously bad Bond films of the past two decades, it may be fair to note that beggars can’t be choosers. “Quantum of Solace” is still one of the better Bond films in recent decades.
“Quantum of Solace” is rated PG-13 for intense sequences of violence and action, and some sexual content.
Coastal View News
Innumerable vanquished villains, countless wild and romantic love affairs, decades of swanky cinema and just one man behind it all: James Bond. Bond has gotten tougher, meaner and still cleverer in the past few years, with the help of the new blonde Bond, Daniel Craig. With Craig came more substance and a reason to suspend disbelief. “Quantum of Solace” cashes in some of the substance but none of the style accrued in “Casino Royale” for more guns, explosions, sweat and blood. “Quantum of Solace” is plenty entertaining, but well shy of inspiring.
In “Quantum of Solace” the once imperturbable James Bond (Daniel Craig) is fighting not only for God, queen and country, but also for revenge. Still beleaguered by questions and regrets after having lost Vesper Lynd (Eva Green)—the one woman for whom Bond was willing to sacrifice everything—the only stable aspect of Bond’s return to MI6 is his ruthless ability. Bond has a duty to follow orders, but a desire to avenge his loss. On the one hand is a covert organization called “Quantum” implicated in the plot that resulted in the death of Lynd. On the other hand is Dominic Greene (Mathieu Amalric), a very wealthy, very shrewd and very well-connected environmentalist businessman.
When Bond travels to Haiti to investigate Quantum, he runs across the scheming and nefarious Greene. Bond discovers that Greene is attempting to grab economic power in South America by toppling the current government and replacing it with the corrupt General Madrano (Joaquin Cosio). The only thing Greene appears to be seeking in return is the deed to an arid, useless portion of South American desert. Of course, unbeknownst to the general, the land is rich with valuable oil and water. Bond smells a rat and ignores M’s (Judi Dench) insistence that he stay on task. While investigating Greene, Bond is drawn into a relationship with Camille (Olga Kurylenko), who is attempting to exact her own revenge against general Medrano (Joaquin Cosio) for killing her family in cold blood.
The plot thickens as more is discovered about Greene’s intentions, and as the American government is drawn into a business relationship with Greene. Bond, who always plays by his own rules, becomes increasingly unpopular as he dodges bullets from eco-terrorists, corrupt Americans, and the fed-up MI6 leadership. The seemingly disparate plots begin to tangle and cohere, and Bond is left to sort it all out.
“Quantum of Solace” begins and ends with reference to “Casino Royale,” and in the meantime fails to create its own, powerful narrative. All films in a series connect in various ways to prequels and sequels, but all good films in a series also tell their own unique portion of the tale in a coherent manner. Unfortunately the story behind “Quantum of Solace” is somehow lost in the shuffle. It is up for debate whether the true currency of James Bond films is plot or action, brains or brawn. “Casino Royale” revived the series with an exceptionally brawny Daniel Craig, but perhaps even more importantly, with a clever script. In “Quantum of Solace” Craig is brawnier than ever, but at the expense of the intellectual intrigue that caught the eye of many viewers when Craig first came on. The result is a very exciting and entertaining film that lacks substance. Given the outrageously bad Bond films of the past two decades, it may be fair to note that beggars can’t be choosers. “Quantum of Solace” is still one of the better Bond films in recent decades.
“Quantum of Solace” is rated PG-13 for intense sequences of violence and action, and some sexual content.
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