"Lincoln"

By Matt Duncan

Coastal View News

Abraham Lincoln had his moments. One can just imagine being there when Lincoln delivered his Gettysburg address, for instance, or when he signed the Emancipation Proclamation. Inspiring stuff. Too bad we don’t have videos or anything.

What we do have is Steven Spielberg. In “Lincoln”, Spielberg strings together as many inspiring moments as possible. “Lincoln” is a highlight reel. It’s Honest Abe’s Greatest Hits. Except, like the Beatles or the Rolling Stones, Lincoln had so many greatest hits that you cannot put them all in just one collection. You could imagine “Lincoln: The Early Years”, in which Lincoln grows up, becomes a lawyer, debates Frederick Douglas, etc. Then there might be “Lincoln: Rise to the Presidency” or “Lincoln: Preserving the Union”.

Spielberg went with the greatest hits movie about Lincoln’s push to get the 13^th Amendment (which abolishes slavery) ratified. Here is the situation. The Civil War is almost over. The North is going to win. The South knows it, but is having a hard time admitting it. Lincoln really wants the war to be over, and apparently, so does everyone else. Thus, a lot of people think that the best thing for Lincoln to do is to focus on ending the war, and to save the slavery issue for when the dust settles.

Lincoln disagrees. He thinks that the 13^th Amendment has to be passed before the Civil War is over. Lincoln figures that if the South rejoins the union with slavery intact, people will forget about the amendment—because the newly recognized southern lawmakers will vehemently oppose the amendment and/or because other politicians will not want to rock the boat, so to speak. So Lincoln presses on.

The problem is that the folks from the South are less likely to join back up with the North if they know that slavery is going to be banned. It is kind of like one side refusing to put something on the negotiating table while the other side refuses to move forward without that thing on the table. It is gridlock—a political tightrope that few (very few, apparently) can walk.

“Lincoln” is scene after scene after scene of stirring speeches, dramatic poses, and memorable one-liners. It really is a greatest hits album. It is one where Lincoln gets a lot of his famous buddies together—e.g., Thaddeus Stevens (Tommy Lee Jones), Ulysses S. Grant (Jared Harris), Mary Todd Lincoln (Sally Field), and Robert Lincoln (Joseph Gordon-Levitt)—but none them is as good as Lincoln himself (Daniel Day-Lewis). That is to say, “Lincoln” is chock full of important characters and famous actors delivering heroic and inspiring lines, but to be honest, everyone just wants to see Lincoln/Daniel Day-Lewis do his thing.

Daniel Day-Lewis is great, of course. It is hard to think of another living actor who is so intensely and so justly revered. His performance as Lincoln is distinctive, iconic, interesting and entertaining. It is larger-than-life, but also remarkably real. It is a truly special performance.

But is this movie special? I think not. “Lincoln” is so absolutely jam-packed with inspirational speeches and one-liners that, oddly enough, some of the drama and intrigue evaporates. It is just too much for one sitting.

Look, I like watching highlight reels and slam-dunk contests as much as the next person. I think it is really cool and impressive when LeBron James spins eight times, puts the ball behind his back, between his legs, in one ear and out the other—all in mid-air—and then dunks it like he does this every day. But there is also a reason why I would rather watch an actual contest, even if (or maybe because) there is an honest-to-goodness chance that my team might lose. It’s just more interesting.

So what I want to say is that “Lincoln” is impressive. It’s just not that interesting.

"Looper"

By Matt Duncan

Coastal View News

In 2044, time travel has not been invented yet. It won’t be invented for another 30 years. That is what Joe (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) says. And Joe knows this because he is a looper. You see, when time travel is invented, things go really badly. So time travel is outlawed. So, naturally, mobsters find a way to use of the technology anyway. What they do is send people who they want “taken care of” back in time to a place where someone—i.e., a “looper”—is waiting with a loaded shotgun. That way the mob eliminates their enemies without having to deal with any messy body situations.

Being a looper is a pretty good gig (that is, aside from the murder, guilt, danger and all that). All you have to do is wait in a field at a certain time, point the gun in a certain direction, and then pull the trigger when someone appears. Then you dispose of the body. It’s pretty easy. Plus, loopers get paid very handsomely.

There is a catch, though. When someone like Joe signs up to be a looper, he agrees that after 30 years of livin’ large, he will go back in time to be eliminated by his past self. No loose ends, you see. This is called “closing the loop”.

Usually closing the loop is no big deal, but Joe’s case is a bit different. This is what happens. Old Joe (Bruce Willis) appears in the field, just as planned, and Young Joe kills him. So far, so good. Then Joe lives his life, hits a few bumps in the road, ages, marries, cleans up, ages, and seems pretty happy (we see all of this in a two-minute montage, so no spoiler alert needed). But when it comes time for Old Joe to go back, he is not quite ready to die. So, this time, Old Joe finds a way to dodge Young Joe’s bullet.

This puts Young Joe in hot water, since the mob does not want two versions of the same looper running around creating havoc. So I guess you could say that Joe isn’t doing himself any favors here. But Old Joe has a plan. He wants to change the future (that is, his past) so that he does not have to be sent back and killed. Young Joe, perhaps being a bit shortsighted, just wants to finish the job by killing Old Joe so that he does not have to face a bunch of angry mobsters.

Thus, Joe both wants to kill himself and to save himself. He wants to change the future, but he also wants to preserve it.

“Looper” is full of good ideas. Going in, it had the potential to be a really interesting, really mind-bending, really tightly packed action film. It has a good story, a good director, good actors, etc. Indeed, “Looper” has many potential virtues.

But here are a few of questions. Why wouldn’t the future mobsters kill their victims first, and then, after that, send the bodies back in time to be disposed of? Wouldn’t that be safer and easier? Or why not just dispose of the bodies there in the future? I mean, c’mon, if these mobsters have figured out how to time travel, why in the world can’t they figure out how to get rid of dead bodies? And also, why do the loopers have to kill themselves? Why not send a looper back to some other looper who will not hesitate to finish the job? Again, wouldn’t that be safer and easier?

OK, maybe I am nitpicking. But in this kind of movie—the kind of movie that is plot driven, where you suspect and hope that everything is going to come together in a really nice, neat way—these kind of details matter. That is why “Looper” is disappointing. It is full of quasi-inconsistencies. These are the kind of inconsistencies that make you wonder, if these characters are so smart and so clever, why is it that they are doing such dumb things all the time.

“Looper” is a movie where you walk out of the theater trying to figure out what just happened, and then you figure it out in like five minutes and realize that the plot was not that interesting, that the story was not that great, and that things maybe should have gone a lot differently.

That is not to say that “Looper” wasn’t fun to watch, of course.

"The Master"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

Paul Thomas Anderson is one of the best filmmakers alive. He made “Magnolia”, “Punch Drunk Love”, and “There Will Be Blood”, and all of these films are brilliant. Each is a masterpiece. Now Anderson has a new film out called “The Master”. This movie is quite good, and definitely worth seeing, but I am not sure—at least not yet—whether it is brilliant, or a masterpiece. It may be. It may not be. I just don’t know.

“The Master” centers on two characters: Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) and Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman). Start with Freddie. Freddie is a wreck. He is a drunk, letch, crook, vagrant, jerk, troublemaker, nuisance, etc. Freddie does whatever he wants whenever he wants. And that’s not a good thing. You could describe him as an extremely animalistic version of a man, or else as a child—as no man at all. But however you describe him, Freddie is clearly someone who needs structure, discipline and guidance.

That is where Lancaster comes in. Lancaster is the charismatic leader of a cult called ‘The Cause’. His followers call him ‘Master’ (but they say it like it’s just an old college nickname). Lancaster claims to be able to cure cancer, remedy alcoholism and boost one’s confidence. He says things like “We’ve won the day!” and talks about secrets to living in the “bodies that we hold.” He’s that kind of guy.

For some reason, Lancaster likes Freddie. It is unclear why. Maybe Freddie amuses Lancaster; maybe Lancaster sees Freddie as some sort of pet. Or maybe Lancaster wants to help Freddie; maybe he sees him as a pet project. At any rate, Lancaster thinks he can give Freddie the structure and discipline that he so desperately needs. And Freddie doesn’t have anything better to do. So he goes along with it.

In fact, before long, Freddie is fully immersed in the culture of The Cause. He goes to all of their functions, he gets to know everyone, and he follows Lancaster around like a lapdog.

Yet, it is never clear whether Freddie really buys it. On the one hand, Freddie often displays fierce—even psychotic—loyalty to Lancaster and The Cause. Plus, he regularly attends, and even participates in, many of the rituals and procedures conducted by Lancaster. On the other hand, Freddie infuriates other cult members by seeming emotionally detached and apathetic toward The Cause’s guiding principles. So it is unclear whether Freddie is devoted to The Cause, or just playing along.

One wonders what “The Master” is trying to get at. It is not a smear. Its point is not to expose cults and cult leaders as fraudulent, corrupt, or silly. Of course, Lancaster and The Cause are fraudulent, corrupt, and silly. Lancaster is also manipulative and abusive. He is controlling, foolish, arrogant, and mean. But Freddie is no better. Freddie, who doesn’t like playing by the rules, is a crass, hurtful, self-destructive mess. He has no master, but maybe he could use one.

So it is easy, I guess, to think fondly of oneself as the master of one’s own life, or else as a devoted servant, or as a leader of others. What “The Master” does is make all this tougher. It needles at what it means and what it takes to be a master, or have a master; and it really makes you think about whether, and to what extent, you are, or should be, taking directions from others.

“The Master” is without a doubt interesting and perplexing—it is very different (a lot of critics have called it “ambitious”, whatever that means. I think it may just mean different, and also kind of heady.). It is the kind of movie where you walk out of the theater unsure if you loved it or if you were just impressed by it.

There is no denying that “The Master” is impressive. For one thing, the acting is phenomenal. Anderson seems to have a knack for getting actors to deliver almost unbelievable but absolutely unforgettable performances (see Daniel Day Lewis in “There Will Be Blood” or Tom Cruise in “Magnolia”). Joaquin Phoenix’s performance as Freddie is along those lines. It’s a sight to see.

So maybe you will love “The Master” (I think I might). Maybe you won’t. It is worth finding out.

"Beasts of the Southern Wild"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

“Beasts of the Southern Wild” is a very simple story about a little girl, her dad, and their will to thrive in conditions that are hardly survivable. Yet, this movie is also rich and complex and way more interesting than any description might suggest. It requires looking at, hearing, feeling—this movie has to be experienced.

“Beasts of the Southern Wild” looks and feels kind of like one of those artsy Levi’s Jeans commercials—the ones with breathy voiceover, Wagner music, and kids running in the street with sparklers. Now, unlike the Levi’s commercials, which you at least want to hate because they are supposed to be deep and interesting and avant-garde but they are really just selling you denim after all, the look and feel of “Beasts of the Southern Wild” is unequivocally affecting, and it actually adds something of value to the movie.

For instance, the look and feel of this movie’s setting is important. It takes place in an extremely impoverished (and technically fictional) area near New Orleans called ‘the Bathtub’. Residents of the Bathtub live in what look to be modified mobile homes. They look like mobile homes just because they are rectangular, plain, and dingy; and they are “modified” just in the sense that they are propped up and slapped together mostly with sheet metal, plywood, chicken wire and assorted bits of refuse. On the inside, these homes are cluttered, unkempt, and about as filthy as filthy gets (I cannot emphasize this last point enough).

The Bathtub looks and feels like a poverty-stricken wasteland. Yet, there is also something surprisingly upbeat about this place. The residents want to be there. They think that the Bathtub is the most beautiful place on earth. Sure, they are poor and sick; they shuffle around in mud and garbage all day, and every single night they get blackout drunk on moonshine and cheap beer. But these folks live this way with unshakable enthusiasm, spirit—even defiance. They want to live this way. They choose to live this way. The Bathtub is home.

The Bathtub’s most upbeat and defiantly hopeful resident is Hushpuppy (Quvenzhane Wallis). Hushpuppy is a six-year-old girl. One might say that she lives with her dad, Wink (Dwight Henry), but that would be misleading since Wink comes and goes as he pleases and pretty much leaves Hushpuppy to her own devices. Really, Hushpuppy is her own woman. She roams freely. She is bold and fearless. She hardly every cries, whines, asks for more food, or complains about anything. Hushpuppy embraces the Bathtub; she looks at the squalor and calls it wonderful.

Then a hurricane comes. Rain and wind assail the Bathtub and its flimsy shanties. Hushpuppy’s squalid home becomes one big dirty ocean. There is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and no one to look to for help.

Yet, miraculously, many of the Bathtub’s denizens survive. They—including Hushpuppy and her dad—come together, work together, live together, and find a way to make life livable. And Hushpuppy thrives. Her attitude and personality, both of which are ridiculously endearing, develop and deepen even despite her tribulations. Her optimism and courage don’t flag even one tiny little bit.

Hushpuppy is a force of nature. And it is her character that really drives “Beasts of the Southern Wild”. Quvenzhane Wallis’ acting is mindboggling. It is difficult to imagine how Wallis could possibly not really be Hushpuppy in real life. Her infectiously courageous attitude—more like her spirit—seems to come from somewhere deep down. It seems like the kind of thing that cannot be faked or produced at will. Without that spirit, I’m not sure “Beasts of the Southern Wild” would be all that good.

But this movie is all that good. It evokes a very complex and probably hard to evoke kind of feeling. That feeling involves sadness—a very deep sort of sadness that comes from witnessing an innocent little girl subjected to the most awful and terrifying conditions. However, the feeling that I am talking about also involves the sense that, despite all the sadness, misery, and ugliness in the Bathtub, there is something good and right and beautiful going on there too. Hushpuppy is a hero. And it may just be because she is able to see the goodness in her suffering, because she is courageous in the face of horror, and because she is tested in ways that no six-year-old should be tested, that Hushpuppy and “Beasts of the Southern Wild” are so worthy of our admiration.

"The Dark Knight Rises"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

Batman (Christian Bale)—aka The Dark Knight, The Caped Crusader, Protector of Gotham, etc.—had just finished saving Gotham and pretty much the whole world. Again. He saved some lives, then thwarted the Joker, then saved a bunch more lives, then stopped hero-turned-villain Harvey “Two-Face” Dent, all in a day’s work. Basically, there should have been some superhero-of-the-century award with Batman’s name on it.

Alas, it was not meant to be. Those fickle, needy Gothamites had to have a public hero—a hero with a face—to admire and emulate. So instead of taking credit for saving Gotham, Batman shouldered the blame for Dent’s crimes and let everyone worship the madman as if he were a fallen hero.

It worked. When “The Dark Knight Rises” picks up, crime is way down, and everyone is happy. Well, everyone except Bruce Wayne, who no longer gets to dress up in a cape, swoop down on criminals, or ride around on that remarkably cool motorcycle. What a shame. But if one billionaire superhero’s sacrifice brings peace and happiness to the masses, then, well, that’s the breaks.

The thing is, that wouldn’t be a very good movie, would it? Lucky for us—and quite unlucky for the citizens of Gotham—big trouble is a-brewin’. A villain is rising. His name is Bane (Tom Hardy). Bane is a monster of a man who wears a scary, industrial-skull looking mask—part Darth Vader, part Mortal Kombat ninja—and has a creepy, condescending British accent. Like the Joker, Bane foments chaos. Unlike the Joker, Bane has some sort of balance-the-universe ideology that involves elevating the lowly by crushing those in charge (especially the rich).

(Of course, the lowly—i.e., poor people—never really wanted to crush anything, and they certainly didn’t want to turn Gotham City into an anarchic wasteland. Decent healthcare or better vacation pay might have sufficed. But try telling that to Bane.)

So Gotham needs its Dark Knight after all. Not that Gotham knows this. For, remember, Batman took the fall—pretended like Harvey Dent’s madness was his madness—so that Gotham’s hero could be some sort of public-servant celebrity or something. The upshot is that the citizens of Gotham still want Batman captured, dead or alive.

Hence, Batman is fighting an uphill battle. Fortunately, he is up to the task. Or, at least, he is willing to try—whether he can actually succeed or win or restore order or whatever counts as being up to the task is another matter. For Bane is a formidable opponent. He is even tougher than he looks (which is hard to believe), he knows how to gain unexpected advantages, and he is able to marshal support from surprising places. Batman certainly has his hands full this time.

Whether or not Batman ultimately disappoints the citizens of Gotham I will not say (you can probably guess). What I will say is that, unfortunately—very, very unfortunately—“The Dark Knight Rises” is itself a disappointment.

But here are some reasons why you might not feel disappointed by “The Dark Knight Rises”. It is not boring. It is full of exciting, dramatic, explosive, eye-catching, gut wrenching scenes. Also, this movie is chock full of talented, attractive actors. Furthermore, “The Dark Knight Rises” has all sorts of fun twists and turns. And did I mention the explosions?

You might not feel disappointed by this movie because you are in my boat—you really, really wanted the last part of Christopher Nolan’s Batman trilogy to be really, really good. This trilogy has been way better than any other series of Batman movies. Really, it has been the gold standard for all superhero movies in at least the last couple of decades.

But that is precisely why “The Dark Knight Rises” is disappointing. Its prequels were so smart, so tight, so engaging, so interesting and deep—they were so good. And this latest Batman movie is just not that good. It is clunky and noisy. It has more bark than bite, more heat than light, more schoolyard brawls than genuinely heroic moments.

There are other problems too. The acting is spotty, the plot is full of holes, and the story strains our credulity too much. But that’s beside my point. My point is: Given what Nolan has shown himself capable of, “The Dark Knight Rises” could have been great—it should have been great. Yet, it was not great. And that is disappointing.

"Ted"

By Matt Duncan

Coastal View News

There is this guy. He is a nice enough guy, but he is also immature. He hangs out with his childhood buddies too much. He likes to goof off, get high and watch cheesy TV shows all the time. Well, not all the time. This guy also likes to spend time with his girlfriend, who is thoughtful and mature—a real catch, in fact. And sometimes this guy just wants to have a real, honest-to-goodness adult life. His girlfriend agrees, of course. She thinks he needs to grow up, ditch his old friends, and get a better job. But this guy’s friends disagree. They just want to let the good times roll. Conflict ensues.

This no doubt sounds like the most clichéd, cookie-cutter, wake-me-up-when-it’s-over movie imaginable—the kind of movie that most boys feel compelled to adore when they turn 16, but, thankfully, learn to despise by 22 (well, maybe 22 is a bit optimistic).

So let me try again. There is this guy. His name is John (Mark Walberg). John is nice, but immature. He goofs off, gets high, watches “Flash Gordon” all the time, has an impatient girlfriend, etc. But wait: there is a twist. John’s best friend, Ted (Seth MacFarlane), is a stuffed bear. What a twist, right? Yes, “Ted” is just that interesting.

The story begins when John was a little boy, when he made a wish that his stuffed bear Ted could talk to him (John was a loser back then). Poof! Ted comes to life. As you might expect, Ted is initially a sweet little toy with a high, cheery voice. He hugs people and says nice things, and he and John are best friends.

However, like John, Ted grows up, loses his innocence, and all that. Ted plays pranks, smokes pot, ogles girls and tells jokes that would even make Howard Stern blush. Howard Stern doesn’t blush. In short, a cuddly little bear transforms into a crass, mangy little thing. Ted is nice, sure, but he is more than a little rough around his seams.

All is well and good between Ted and John for quite some time. But after a while, John’s girlfriend, Lori (Mila Kunis), begins to grow tired of their antics. Lori is remarkably patient with John, but finally, after countless Teddy bear-induced fiascos, she decides that it’s either her or Ted. John is torn. On the one hand, John loves Lori more than anything. But who could say no to a stuffed bear who curses like a sailor?

There are several possible reasons why one would be tempted to see “Ted”. Some might go because they saw a cute movie poster of a man sitting next to a Teddy bear on a couch, and thought that the movie was going to be a touching and amusing family flick. That would be a mistake. “Ted” is shamelessly filthy and crass. It pushes boundaries for no other reason than to make people squirm.

Others might see “Ted” because they like the idea of a cute, cuddly Teddy bear who is just as foul as the rest of us. And I guess there is indeed something funny about a stuffed animal cursing at his boss and making sexual overtures to his co-workers.

Finally, many will see “Ted” just because the creator of “Family Guy” (Seth MacFarlane) made it—they cannot pass up on the idea of the voice of Peter Griffin emanating from a Teddy bear. If this is you, then you probably don’t care so much about whether the story is original (it is not), or whether the romance is touching (nope); you just want to know whether “Ted” is anywhere near as funny as “Family Guy”.

It is not. A movie like “Ted” shows us why it is a good thing that “Family Guy” is only 20 minutes long. For while there are some really funny jokes in “Ted”—jokes to make Peter Griffin proud—the rest of the film is long and laborious. Seth MacFarlane’s crass humor can be good in small doses, but when it is scattered throughout two hours of utterly mundane story telling, even a cursing, fighting, cocaine-snorting, alcoholic Teddy bear starts to get boring.

"Prometheus"

By Matt Duncan

Coastal View News

Prometheus is the Titan who is said to have created human life. According to the Greek myth, he made us from clay. Then—and here is where Prometheus might have left well enough alone—he stole fire from the gods and gave it to the humans. Apparently the gods disliked this. We humans are not supposed to be on equal footing with the gods. That’s the thought. There is supposed to be an unbridgeable divide between the human and the divine—the created and the creator—that Prometheus failed to appreciate. And so the gods punished Prometheus.

In Ridley Scott’s science fiction epic, “Prometheus”, a handful of humans go to meet their maker. The story opens with scientists discovering a series of cave paintings that support the theory that human life on earth began when aliens came to earth long ago, deposited our genetic material, and then flew away (this may sound far-fetched, but interestingly, some well-known scientists actually believe it).

These cave paintings also appear to indicate where those aliens live. So a team of scientists, engineers, businessmen, and an android board a spaceship named ‘Prometheus’ in search of their Prometheus—their creator. They go for a variety of reasons. Some go for money. Others go for notoriety. Some go because they want to be part of a great scientific expedition. Others go because they think the aliens may be able to solve their problems.

Hence, the Prometheus is home to a variety of characters with a variety of unmistakably human motives and pursuits. But are these pursuits noble? Will contact with the aliens fulfill the crew’s desires, or have they stretched the bounds of humanity too far? Have they, like Prometheus, bridged a divide that ought not be bridged? Will the aliens—the creators of human life—turn out to be benevolent and gracious, or will they be vengeful, monstrous, or even worse, indifferent?

These are just some of the questions that are developed in “Prometheus”, and it would be a shame to answer them here. Indeed, there are some questions that are raised by this movie that we may never have clear-cut answers to. That, of course, does not mean that they should not be asked. It just means that they are deep questions, and hard questions—problems that we are invited to think about but not expected to solve.

Many of these questions and problems are raised by how this movie’s characters speak to the nature and value of human endeavors. Maybe the most interesting and important characters in this movie are Elizabeth Shaw (Noomi Rapace) and David (Michael Fassbender). Shaw is a scientist. David is an android. Shaw’s interests are both scientific and philosophical. She wants to know why aliens visited earth in the first place, why they created human life, and why they abandoned their creation. In other words, Shaw wants answers to the big questions.

Like Shaw, David’s aim is to learn about the creators of human life. But there is an unmistakable difference between the goals and motives of David and those of Shaw. There is something Shaw has that David lacks. It is some sort of spark. Maybe it is just conscious experience, or maybe it is something like hope or faith—faith in humanity’s pursuit of understanding and faith that there is something in our universe beyond what we have dreamt of.

David does not get this. He is a machine that is designed to look and act like a real human being, but David lacks, or at least seems to lack, all of the traits that are distinctive of humanity. He cannot feel or act freely; he does not experience emotion or any other conscious sensation. So David is incapable of truly understanding human experience or its deliverances.

It is difficult to say more about what David is missing. Yet, Ridley Scott does a great job of showing us that David is indeed missing something. “Prometheus” shows us that there is something special about the way humans think and wonder about the world around us. And this is just one of the many fascinating themes in “Prometheus”.

In fact, this movie has something for everyone. There is action and suspense, there is an interesting plot and noteworthy characters; and of course, there are all sorts of mind-blowing things to think about. All this makes “Prometheus” a truly special movie.

"The Pirates! Band of Misfits"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

Dirty, mangy marauders angling for the top science prize in Britain, egotistical pirate ship captains vying to be “Pirate of the Year”, Charles Darwin bemoaning his lack of luck with women, and dodo birds hidden in voluminous beards: these are the makings of a great Claymation movie. “The Pirates! Band of Misfits” weds the absurd with, well, more of the absurd. So it makes perfect sense that this movie satisfies the itch to indulge in a bit of nonsense.

Pirates are scary. They are mean, crass, brutal and violent—the worst sort of people. Pirates take pleasure in the misery of others. They rob the poor and torture the sick. Pirates are no good at all. That, I suppose, is why The Pirate Captain (Hugh Grant) and his crew are not very good at being pirates. Consider who is aboard. There is The Albino Pirate (Anton Yelchin), who dislikes danger, and The Pirate with Gout (Brendan Gleeson), who is hardly fit for life on the bounding main. Then there is The Pirate Who Likes Sunsets and Kittens (Al Roker). No explanation needed. This crew is pathetic, and their leader—The Pirate Captain—is no exception. He is fun loving, kind and considerate—a sorry excuse for a pirate.

This is unfortunate, for The Pirate Captain covets the esteem of other pirate captains. And he feels that the only way to earn his peers’ respect is to win the prestigious “Pirate of the Year” award, which goes to the pirate who brings in the most booty, plunders the most ships, and boasts the most victims. The Pirate Captain wants it bad.

The Pirate Captain has never won “Pirate of the Year”, though. He tries. It’s just that The Pirate Captain never has any luck. The ships he commandeers are never the gold-laden trading vessels of his dreams. Rather, the only ships that The Pirate Captain can find are filled with penniless lepers, children, nudists, scientists, or the like.

So The Pirate Captain takes a different tack. After boarding a ship inhabited by none other than Charles Darwin (David Tennant), The Pirate Captain learns that his “parrot”, Polly, is actually a very rare species of bird that could earn him untold fame with the scientific community. So the second-rate pirate and his crew go to a London science conference in search of the respect they never found while pirating.

However, their plan quickly runs aground. The Pirate Captain finds himself fending off jealous scientists and heads of state, and at the same time, trying to prove to the pirating community that he really is a marauding master of oceanic villainy. The Pirate Captain has some choices. He can pay the price for notoriety—and what a steep price that turns out to be—or he can stay loyal to Polly and his loving crew, but remain a nobody.

“The Pirates: Band of Misfits” is as funny and clever as it sounds. This movie is never dull. The plot itself is pretty amusing, and if there are any points at which the story lags, an ample dose of wonderfully dry humor still hits the spot. Jokes about everything from peg legs and rotting limbs to girl scouts and the Queen of England provide the variety that is needed to keep viewers guessing.

This is the sort of movie that you would expect from the creators of “Wallace and Gromit” and “Chicken Run”; yet, somehow, these quick-witted Claymation adventures never get old. This may not be the best movie of its kind, but that is hardly a knock. “The Pirates: Band of Misfits” is plenty good.

"The Hunger Games'

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

Having been amply hyped, anticipated, and adored, but also shrouded in controversy, “The Hunger Games” is on everyone’s mind. For good reason, too. This is a really interesting story. It is exciting, disturbing and thought provoking, and I cannot wait to see the next one.

In “The Hunger Games”, hungry children fight to the death. These children don’t fight over food, resources or territory. They don’t fight because their parents are at war with each other. These children don’t have any reason whatsoever to dislike each other, and they wouldn’t normally inflict serious harm on others. They are kids, after all.

The children in “The Hunger Games” fight and kill each other because they are forced to do so by the ruling elite. They are forced to fight for sport—to amuse the wealthy—as some sort of sick punishment for a past rebellion that they played no part in.

Each year one boy and one girl—mostly teens and preteens—are randomly selected from each of 12 districts to compete in The Hunger Games. Those selected are brought to the Capitol, paraded around for the amusement of thousands of obnoxious spectators, and then pitted against each other in a battle royal. This brutal competition takes place in a giant arena that is designed to look like some natural environment, but which is controlled and manipulated at every turn. The child gladiators go into the arena empty handed, but they have a chance to pick up weapons and supplies along the way. The rules are simple: the last one living wins. Everyone else dies.

“The Hunger Games” is mostly about the contestants from District 12. District 12 usually has a hard time of it. They are the poorest and least equipped to fight in The Hunger Games. So they usually lose. However, this year is different. Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence), a bright teenage girl and talented archer, volunteers to fight for district 12 in order to protect her little sister, who was originally selected. Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) joins Katniss as the other District 12 representative. They, unlike their predecessors, are formidable contestants.

Katniss and Peeta are of course disgusted by the competition, and they are terribly afraid. But they have no choice but to play along with the pageantry of their oppressors and hope for the best. They work hard to prepare, and so they are cautiously optimistic.

When the day comes—that is, when the battle begins—Katniss and Peeta each have their own strategies. Katniss dashes into hiding. Her strategy is to evade the others while they pick each other off. Peeta, on the other hand, joins a pack of brawny kids who slaughter the weakest of their foes. Eventually, when only a few competitors remain after days of frantic struggle, Katniss and Peeta are reunited. They are bruised and bloodied, but still alive. One of them could win it all, but in order to survive, they have to work together and defeat kids that are bigger and stronger than they. And when a twist is thrown their way, they have to be ready.

What a cool story. Right? A lot of people are upset by this movie’s depiction of violence to children. And there is no doubt about it: “The Hunger Games” is unsettling. Whether it is a little girl being hacked to death by a sword or a boy having his neck snapped by another boy, there is no denying that this movie is gruesome and disturbing. I guess that’s part of the point, though. We should be bothered by the movie. And we should think about why it is bothersome, too. Otherwise, aren’t we just like the hoards of mindless spectators in the movie who only care about feeling good and being entertained?

There are many virtues of this film. The acting is quite good. The pace keeps you on the edge of your seat the whole way through. The cinematography is captivating, the costumes are fantastic, the editing is great, and so on. There is a lot to recommend here.

But really, “The Hunger Games” is all about the story. It is rich and complex; its premise is novel, but it also taps into some pretty deep, age-old themes. I haven’t read the books yet. I think I ought to.

"The Secret World of Arrietty"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

Imagine dancing on leaves. Imagine running between mountainous rocks while dodging grasshoppers twice your size. Imagine tiptoeing through a cupboard and then climbing atop a blender so that you can dash across a countertop and snatch a sugar cube that is as big as your head. Imagine all of that. That is “The Secret World of Arrietty”. This animated film is rich and complex. It is a movie about action and adventure, but it also has a mysterious subtlety.

Arrietty Clock (Bridgit Mendler) is a 14-year-old girl. Like many girls her age, Arrietty is bright, energetic and curious. She likes the things that most kids like, such as toys, plants and animals; but, like most kids, she is also dying to grow up. Arrietty may be a bit bold and adventurous for her own good, but otherwise she is pretty normal.

Well, except for the fact that she is roughly four inches tall. Arrietty is smaller than a mouse—no bigger than a worn-down pencil. You get the picture: Arrietty could fit in your front pocket. Indeed, the whole Clock family—Arrietty plus her mom and dad—could fit in your pocket.

The Clocks are borrowers, which means they are tiny people who borrow things from big people. Borrowers actually just take things, to be honest—things such as food, sugar, tissue paper, or whatever else they need—but they take just enough to live on, and never so much that the big people notice. After all, no borrower wants to be greedy, and no borrower wants to be noticed by the big people.

Arrietty and her family are a particularly happy bunch of borrowers. They live in a comfortable house, complete with miniature rooms, furniture and appliances, underneath the home of a family that seems to be wonderfully oblivious to the borrowers’ presence.

That is, until Arrietty is spotted by Shawn (David Henrie). Shawn is a sick boy who ends up in Arrietty’s neck of the woods because he needs rest before undergoing a dangerous operation. He catches sight of Arrietty on a couple of occasions, but somehow Shawn is neither surprised nor dismayed to see a four-inch teenage girl running around the house.

This is odd. Arrietty is a miniature person! But Shawn acts as if he always in such stuff of childish fairytales. Shawn is not the only one, either. Despite their lack of evidence, all of the big people seem to be open to the idea that borrowers exist. Odd indeed.

Some of the big people—Shawn, for instance—want to befriend the borrowers. Others want it to be true that borrowers exist, but are not interested in finding out about them. And others only want to hunt down, dominate, and maybe even kill Arrietty and her family.

Arrietty is caught in the middle. On the one hand, she wants to talk to and interact with Shawn; she wants to learn more about other people, big or small. On the other hand, Arrietty does not want to expose, and thereby endanger, her family. If Arrietty wants to learn more about the world around her, she has to take some risks. But if she wants to protect those she loves, she must sacrifice other, potentially meaningful relationships.

“The Secret World of Arrietty” is an eerily beautiful story. Each of the characters is puzzling yet intoxicating. Arrietty is drawn to danger in some strange and disquieting way, but at the same time, her spirit is unbreakable and inspirational. Shawn is sensitive and compassionate—he really cares for other people—yet he is remarkably stony when it comes to his own livelihood. Arrietty’s dad, Pod (Will Arnett), is quiet and unresponsive, yet dripping with careful adoration of his family.

These characters are subtle and interesting. Their story is captivating in surprising ways. This is a paradoxical movie—it is both simple and complex. There is a lot to say about it and for it, I think. There is also a lot that cannot be said about it. Sometimes you just have to see it.

"The Artist"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

Today the norm in Hollywood is for stories to be told with a thick veneer of the latest computer generated graphics, images, and sound effects; an elaborate set and wardrobe; and a smattering of quick shots of actors dodging bullets and diving away from enormous explosions. Well-told, insightful stories aren’t always successful at the box office, but big budget, action extravaganzas usually are. “The Artist” tries to subvert that norm. And its success in doing so is part of what makes the movie so interesting and refreshing.

“The Artist” is a (mostly) silent film about silent films. Of course, “The Artist” is also about an artist—a silent film actor, to be precise. His name is George Valentin (Jean Dujardin), and he is the pinnacle of what Hollywood used to be. He dodges his on-screen enemies, woos the ladies, and helps the less fortunate. He injects excitement, drama, sorrow, and humor into his films, all with a distinctive bravado that makes him a fan favorite. Oh yeah, and he does it all without saying a word.

Valentin is a star, but he’s also an alright guy. Sure, he’s a bit conceited and egotistical. But he’s also loyal and caring. He really enjoys boosting his audiences’ spirits when he can, and, like many of the characters he plays, Valentin is also willing to help out those in need.

A case in point is Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo). Miller, who is in fact peppier than peppy, starts out as a nobody. She’s just an average moviegoer who dreams of being a star. She wants to sing, dance, act, perform, or whatever, just so long as it’s on the big screen. But of course wanting an acting gig and getting an acting gig are two very different things.

It is just lucky for Miller that she manages to catch Valentin’s eye. At first Valentin is caught off guard by Miller. He finds her mesmerizing, but he doesn’t know how to react to her subtle yet intoxicating charm. So what Valentin does is help Miller out. He teaches her how to stand out in a crowd of other actresses, he keeps up with her work, and he defends her to his producers.

And it works. Before long, Peppy Miller is one of the biggest stars in Hollywood. Her movies get rave reviews, sometimes before they are even released. Valentin’s role in Miller’s success cannot be denied; however, another part of her success has to do with her enthusiastic willingness to act in hip, newfangled non-silent movies called “talkies”. People love the silent Peppy Miller, but they love the talking, laughing, singing Peppy Miller even more.

Valentin, on the other hand, is stuck in the past. He refuses to act in talkies. The result is that the guy everyone loves quickly becomes the guy no one cares about. Valentin must adapt or be axed. And Miller has to find a way to remain true to Valentin and her roots while also remaining on the cutting edge of cinema.

“The Artist” has a wonderfully nostalgic feel. Most of us weren’t alive when silent films were still being made, and yet, there is still something familiar about this movie and its subject matter. It evokes a rich historical current that we somehow know about—a current that courses through the movies we watched two decades ago, two years ago, or even just two days ago.

This feel is not just a yen for older, simpler times. What “The Artist” brings out is an intricate interplay between past and present artistic media. This interplay involves values, styles, sensibilities, and tastes that are vastly different, and yet, profoundly bound up together. This thing that “The Artist” does allows us to appreciate the genesis of film while also making us aware of the kinds of choices that make film what it is today.

“The Artist” is also a reminder that there is more to a good movie than computer graphics, blinding action sequences, and forceful one-liners. There is more to good acting than delivering a line, there is more to writing a good screenplay than putting in twists after twist, there is more to good editing than moving the action along as quickly as possible, and there is more to good movies than box office receipts. A movie can be really good without the latest special effects, or indeed, without any special effects. Or, as “The Artist” shows, a movie can be really good without any witty dialogue, or indeed, without any dialogue at all.

"Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

Tom Cruise’s mission is to delay the demise of the “Mission Impossible” series. To succeed, he must take on the identity of agent Ethan Hunt of the Impossible Mission Force (IMF) and thereby draw people into, and eventually onto the edge of, theater seats across the globe. If his mission fails, critics, film studios, and moviegoers will disavow the once-celebrated actor—they will act as if (or continue to act as if) he doesn’t exist. If he succeeds, on the other hand, agent Ethan Hunt and the “Mission Impossible” series may live to see another release.

Cruise, who continues to accept this mission without batting an eyelash, may have pulled it off again. Somehow, even though the latest movie—“Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol”—is fairly uninventive compared to the rest of the series, it has managed to secured the approval of countless critics and audiences.

In this movie, Hunt is directed to stop insane terrorist Kurt Hendricks (Michael Nyqvist) from securing Russia’s nuclear launch codes. This top-secret mission is as dangerous as any that he has ever been on. And, as always, Hunt knows that if something goes wrong with the job, the IMF and the U. S. government will disavow him. That is, if the mission is botched, bungled, sabotaged or otherwise fails, there is no backup plan—the U. S. will just pretend that he does not exist or else will accuse him of going rogue.

Luckily, Hunt has at his disposal a team of highly trained agents, including tech genius, Benji Dunn (Simon Pegg), and misleadingly dangerous bombshell, Jane Carter (Paula Patton). The team quickly puts together an ingenious plan to break into the Kremlin and get their hands on information that is vital to stopping Hendricks. Even though they are doing the impossible—slipping past countless armed guards and hacking into impenetrable computer systems, for example—it looks like business as usual for the IMF.

But then the whole thing falls apart. Despite the team’s training, skill, and nifty gadgets, Hendricks swoops in to nab the crucial data, elude Hunt and his team, and then set off a massive bomb inside the Kremlin. The mission is a disaster.

And what’s even worse is that the bombing gets pinned on the IMF. This triggers ‘Ghost Protocol’: the dissolution and disavowal of Hunt, his team, and indeed, the entire IMF. Hunt and his team are left with scant resources, very few friends, and hardly any hope. So the team, together with the help of analyst William Brandt (Jeremy Renner), decides that their only option is to catch and expose Hendricks and thereby vindicate the IMF.

However, Hendricks proves to be a worthy adversary. He is rich, clever, and highly motivated by a desire to wipe out the human race via nuclear holocaust. In contrast, Hunt and his team are hampered by their lack of resources, as well as infighting and emotional scars from past missions. This time, whether the former IMF agents can stop an unprecedented disaster depends not so much on their technology or even their cleverness, but rather on their gritty determination.

A lot of people really liked “Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol”. I was not one of them. This movie is entertaining, and certain of its action sequences are definitely fun to watch. However, I have a hard time seeing what this movie adds to the “Mission Impossible” series. The plot is old and tired, the stunts are familiar, and most of the gadgets that Hunt and his team use are only slight modifications on gadgets that were used in previous “Mission Impossible” movies. Even the enemy (a Russian terrorist) is an antiquated homage to spy villains of previous decades.

That is not to say that “Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol” is not amusing or entertaining. A movie can be entertaining without being innovative. Just don’t expect anything new.