"The Hunger Games: Catching Fire"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

Last time we saw them, Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) and Peeta Mallark (Josh Hutcherson) narrowly escaped what was supposed to be certain death and emerged as the heroes of the Hunger Games. They became the darlings of the games with their semi-maybe-feigned romance, while at the same time thoroughly pissing off the powers that be—President Snow (Donald Sutherland), in particular—with the way they won the games. They were defiant. They were not willing to turn against each other. They refused to be pawns in the Capital’s manipulation game.

That’s where we left off. And, to a certain extent, when “The Hunger Games: Catching Fire” picks up, not a whole lot has changed. Katniss and Peeta are still crowd favorites. Everybody is still in love with them. And they are still pretending to be in love with each other. But, behind the scenes, President Snow is still on edge about the fact that many of those under the thumb of the Capital see Katniss and Peeta as revolutionary figures—as symbols of hope and rebellion.

Snow wants to find a way to dispose of Katniss and Peeta, but he has to do it without firing up the masses. So he, along with the new head gamemaker, Plutarch Heavensbee (Philip Seymour Hoffman), comes up with a brilliant plan to do just that. The idea is to shake up the upcoming Hunger Games with a twist: This time the tributes are to be chosen from among the past winners. You see, usually when someone wins the Hunger Games, he or she gets to just sit back, relax, and cruise through the rest of life like some kind of conquering hero who never has to lift a finger ever again.

Not this time. This time the champions have to reenter the arena. This serves two purposes. First, President Snow gets to ratchet up the fear even more. Now the past champions aren’t even safe. How awful! Second, President Snow gets to put Katniss and Peeta back in harm’s way. Once again, these heroic lovebirds have to fight for their lives. How tragic! But how entertaining!

Katniss and Peeta aren’t thrilled, of course. In fact, most of the former champions are less than enthusiastic about having to do it all over again. President Snow is trying his best to keep everyone under control. But discontentment is brewing under the surface.

As for Katniss and Peeta, they are thrown back into the arena very distressed and very overwhelmed. They do not know what to do. They are not sure whether they are all alone or whether something is going on in the background that might tilt the balance in their favor. At any rate, their margin for error is, once again, razor thin.

I like the first “Hunger Games” book better than the second. And the same goes for the movies. The first “Hunger Games” is innovative, interesting, and clever. The whole premise is novel and thought provoking. This second movie—“Hunger Games: Catching Fire”—does not have that added punch. Maybe that is just how things work with sequels like this. But there is nothing particularly innovative or intriguing here.

Still, “The Hunger Games: Catching Fire” is definitely a good movie. And it is definitely a worthy adaptation of the novel. The acting is quite good. The cinematography, set design, and costumes are impressive. And the occasional plot twists, along with the magnetic energy of the characters, are more than enough to keep one’s attention.

It would have been nice if this series kept pushing the envelope, and kept developing the themes introduced in the first installment, and kept finding new ways to draw our attention to the various facets of the characters and their environment. But all of that super interesting stuff is front-loaded. It is there from the start. It came in last time. So the rest of story feels much more like a straight-up action/adventure drama. There isn’t necessarily anything wrong with that.

That is, unless you were hoping for more.

"Captain Phillips"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

It is the ambition—maybe even the sole ambition—of “Captain Phillips” to capture a certain real-life drama that occurred a little while ago. There have been a lot of movies like this lately. It’s as if we really want to see what happened, and, you know, it’s not on YouTube, so we have to make a movie. And while we are at it, we might as well really play up the whole hero aspect of it. So we end up telling our own ongoing history pretty much as we like it.

Here it is. Captain Richard Phillips (Tom Hanks) has a dangerous job. He knows it, too. He is an American in charge of a cargo ship travelling off the coast of Somalia. And that’s not the best place to do business. The issue is not with the weather, or with icebergs or reefs that are difficult to navigate, or even with the local wildlife. The issue is with pirates.

And we are not exactly talking about Captain Hook and Smee here. We are talking about men with AK-47s who were plucked from their impoverished homes with the promise of a new life free of worry and want. These pirates really have something on the line.

Captain Phillips is aware of the threat, but he pushes on. Then the pirates come. Four pirates under the command of Abduwali Muse (Barkhad Abdi) go after Captain Phillips’ ship, the MV Maersk Alabama. At first Captain Phillips manages to outrun them. He thinks that they have dodged a bullet; he thinks that all is well.

Then the pirates come again. This time they have a faster boat and the equipment necessary to track down Captain Phillips’ ship and get on board. Most of Phillips’ crew flees to the engine room, but Muse and his cohort manage to capture Phillips. The plan is to hold Captain Phillips and his ship ransom for millions of dollars.

It turns out to be not so easy. Captain Phillips and his crew do various things to foil their pirate captors, such as cutting the power to the engine. And meanwhile the plight of the sailors draws the attention of the American government. A U.S. Navy destroyer is sent to intercept the pirate-controlled ship with instructions to keep the ship from reaching shore at all costs.

There is a lot of back-and-forth here. At points it looks like Captain Phillips is doomed. At other points it seems obvious that the pirates are going down. Of course, anyone who hasn’t had his or her head buried in the sand for the past few years knows what’s going to happen. But still, there is drama to be had here. Captain Phillips tries to escape at one point. The pirates get testy. The Navy Seals come in. All very exciting.

Or at least the ending of “Captain Phillips” is very exciting. The rest of the movie is just all right—mostly a bunch of buildup. There is some interesting dialogue between Captain Phillips and Muse, and of course Tom Hanks does a nice job throughout the movie. But the whole thing is built for the ending. We want to know what it looked like. We want to see how it all went down.

So we do. And it is interesting. And it is exciting. Perhaps it is even worth the wait. However, there is nothing especially noteworthy about “Captain Phillips” from a purely cinematic standpoint. There is nothing much added here beyond the real-life story, except for the fact that Captain Phillips is portrayed as an unqualified hero. If not for the fact that this event—or at least something kind of like this event—really did occur, the movie would be pretty pedestrian.

"Prisoners"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

Keller Dover (Hugh Jackman) is a good dad. He is a bit intense, maybe. But he is definitely a good dad. So when his daughter, Anna, and her friend, Joy, mysteriously disappear from a Thanksgiving Day celebration, Dover is willing to do what any good dad would do to find his daughter—that is, just about anything.

Right off the bat we know something bad is going to happen. The first part of the movie is full of slow, voyeuristic panning shots that angle around trees, over hills, or through windows. It is like we are watching in on this family, perhaps waiting to pounce, or perhaps just spying on their unfolding drama. And then it happens. The girls are gone. They disappear without a trace.

When a quick and frantic search comes up empty, we are led to suspect that some guy in this old, gross camper that we saw parked outside, popped out and took the girls. That is what Dover thinks happened. So he calls the cops and lets them know.

The authorities find the camper almost immediately. After a tense semi-maybe-sorta-standoff, Detective Loki (Jake Gyllenhaal) apprehends Alex Jones (Paul Dano). Alex looks super sketchy, super creepy, and super duper guilty. But, as we are reminded throughout the movie, appearances can be misleading. It turns out Alex is mentally challenged, and perhaps only looked like he was caught red handed because he was scared and overwhelmed. The hard evidence really isn’t there. So, after a thorough search, Detective Loki lets Alex go.

Dover is not convinced. Or, scratch that; Dover is convinced … that Alex did it. Dover is frantic, and his gut tells him that Alex at least knows where his daughter is. Detective Loki is willing to listen to Dover’s theories. However, he also wants to make sure Dover stays under control.

But Dover is willing to do anything, including some not-OK stuff, to get his daughter back. This is understandable, but still, what we have here is a standard “Well what would you do?” kind of moral conundrum. Except, to be honest, somehow this case does not feel standard. Maybe it’s just because High Jackman plays the part perfectly, or because director Denis Villeneuve does a great job building the tension, but somehow certain elements of this movie that one might expect to come out same-old-same-old actually end up being very real and very powerful.

There is this great moment when we are all coming to grips with how the whole investigation is playing out, and Dover is taking a moment to get centered and figure out what he should do. Dover finds himself reciting the Lord’s Prayers (as he often does). He is cruising through it, going seamlessly from  “Our Father who art in heaven” to “Thy kingdom come” to “Forgive us our trespasses as we …”. But then he stops. It’s unclear why. It’s unclear whether Dover even recognizes that he has stopped. Something keeps Dover from finishing the line. Yet we, the audience, get it. Without feeling duped or preached at, we are sharply reminded how much easier it is to ask for (and expect!) forgiveness for our trespasses than it is to grant forgiveness to those who have trespassed against us.

“Prisoners” is extremely well done, superbly acted, and just downright hard to watch. It is so hard to watch. And I mean that in the best possible way. It is one of those movies that may actually make you feel good afterward, but only like when you wake up from a bad dream and are just so glad that that’s not your life. This movie is that alarming and effective.

And it has layers. It has subtle religious and (perhaps) political intrigue. It raises all sorts of interesting moral questions. And it even plays with our expectations about the genre—it is, with a healthy dose of self-awareness, interested in what we should expect from stories like this, plots like this, characters like this, and movies like this.

At first I thought “Prisoners” was a movie I deemed successful, but which I would never want to see again. But I already want to see it again. That is, if I can take it.

"The Grandmaster"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

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Ip Man (Tony Leung Chi Wai) is a Kung Fu master. I know for sure he could beat me up. Actually, it wouldn’t even be a fight. I would land zero punches; I would cause zero stress. I can only imagine lying flat on my back with a bruised kidney and absolutely no clue what just happened.

We get an even better sense of the Kung-Fu-godliness of Ip Man right off the bat in “The Grandmaster”. There are about 20 guys looking for a fight. They surround Ip Man. But, of course, the throng of fighters lacks the good sense to just mob their victim all at once. So, one-by-one, Ip Man mops the floor with each and every one of them.

Now that we know to be impressed by Ip Man we can get on with the story. Ip Man is rich and happy. He has a nice family tucked away in southern China. Ip Man spends his free time beating up on anyone who wants to fight him. But he does it in a way that is sort of gentle, even kind. Ip Man is a good man livin’ the good life.

Then everything gets shaken up. A rivalry threatens Ip Man’s honor, as well as his family. A war with Japan rends the countryside, tearing Ip Man from the life that he loves. And even when the dust settles, Ip Man has to start anew in less than ideal circumstances while still dealing with the pain already inflicted upon him.

Ip Man has an advantage, though. He knows how to cope with pain. Many of those around him are not so lucky. Some are consumed by vengeance. Others who are obsessed with their status fade into oblivion when the times change. Scene by scene, we see how different people with different dispositions deal with others, respond to hardship, and confront their enemies. Each person has to find his or her own way.

In many ways “The Grandmaster” is pretty unoriginal. The characters are archetypes: There is The Greedy Person, The Vengeful Person, The Strong, Silent Warrior, etc. We learn about these characters mostly through the way they fight (which, I should admit, is tremendously entertaining). Indeed, most of the important lessons occur right before, right after, or during a fight. This makes the plot feel a bit attenuated and impressionistic. It doesn’t always seem like it matters what happens next.

Nonetheless, there are some ways in which “The Grandmaster” stands out. Here is one small detail: Feet. Filmmaker Wong Kar Wai spends a lot of time—particularly during the fighting—focusing on people’s feet. It turns out you can tell a lot about a person by his or her feet. Not by how his or her feet actually look (We don’t see any bare feet, thankfully). But by what they do, and by how they are positioned. Do they thrash indiscriminately at anything that moves? Or are they disciplined and careful? Are they positioned in a defensive stance? Or are they poised for attack? Do they seem relaxed and in harmony with the ground below? Or does it look like their very presence is assaulting the floor? You can tell a lot about person by his or her feet, I learned. And focusing on characters’ feet is a neat way to get to know them. Sometimes a face just won’t do.

So while “The Grandmaster” is in some ways rather pat, in other ways it shows off a special richness. Combine that with beautiful cinematography and great musical selections, and “The Grandmaster” makes for a pretty good movie.

"Fruitvale Station"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

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This movie is about a black man who was shot and killed by a white police officer. The story is true, or at least mostly true. Or at least it is based on a true story. Or at least it deals with an event that really happened. It is a little tough to tell whether the story is supposed to be straight-up non-fiction, somewhat-fiction, mostly-fiction, or what. But it is not tough to tell that this story—what really did happen—is tragic.

“Fruitvale Station” opens with video footage of the actual event. It is early in the morning on New Years Day, 2009, at Fruitvale Station, near San Francisco. We see a handful of young black men lined up along a wall. Several officers are giving them a hard time—pushing them around, yelling at them, and even kicking them. One of the men stands up and is immediately shoved to the ground. One of the officers holds him down. Another grinds the man’s head into the ground with his knee.

Then suddenly—BANG!—the unmistakable report of a gunshot cuts the air. People scream and the camera shakes. Everything goes dark.

That is the scene we are anticipating for the whole movie. We want to know what happens, how it happens, and what is going to happen as a result. Alas, we have to wait for it (quite a while, actually). For, after the first scene, we back up so that we can get to know the victim.

His name is Oscar Grant (Michael B. Jordan). Oscar is 22-years-old. He lives in the Bay Area with his girlfriend, Sophina (Melonie Diaz), and his 4-year-old daughter, Tatiana (Ariana Neal). Oscar has a bit of a checkered past, and indeed, a bit of a checkered present. He was in prison for a while. He got out. But now he is unemployed and hurting.

Sometimes Oscar acts like a responsible, mature adult who is willing to work hard. But sometimes it’s the opposite. He goofs off, shows up late and gets fired. Sometimes Oscar acts like a loyal boyfriend, father, son and friend. But again, sometimes it’s the opposite. He says and pleads and insists and promises Sophina that he wants nothing more than to be with her and their daughter for the rest of his life. Then he cheats.

Sometimes Oscar is the kindest man you will ever see. He helps random people in the supermarket, comforts a dying dog, and showers affection on his daughter. But then Oscar can be mean. He snaps, switches over to a different personality, gets in fights and hurls threats.

I suppose the point is that Oscar is kind of just like all of us. He is not perfect, and who knows, maybe he is not even a particularly good guy. It seems like it could go either way. Maybe he will turn things around and have a rich, full life. Or maybe he will screw it all up.

Then Fruitvale Station happens. And I suppose it does not matter whether Oscar was responsible and hard working. It does not matter whether he was kind or mean, loyal or disloyal, good or bad, a success or failure, on his way up or on his way out.

Oscar did not deserve to be shot that night. It is true that Oscar had potential. But even if he was, or turned out to be, mean, disloyal, irresponsible, and just plain bad, Oscar did not deserve to be shot that night.

“Fruitvale Station” is dramatic and gut wrenching because of what actually happened on January 1, 2009. It is powerful because someone who did not deserve to die was shot and killed, and for all the worst reasons.

I guess it’s all right that this movie spends time on Oscar’s life. It enhances the drama and all that. But the movie spends so so so much time on this background stuff. And, again, there is a sense in which it feels irrelevant. Are we supposed to assess, over the course of an hour of getting to know Oscar, whether Oscar deserved to be shot? Is all the background info supposed to be what makes Oscar’s story tragic rather than merely unfortunate?

No. Oscar’s story is tragic. He did not deserve to be shot.

Yes, it is good to get to know Oscar. But his personality is not the story. “Fruitvale Station” is worth watching, but not because the creators of the movie add anything by way of cinematic genius. This movie is worth watching because what happened at Fruitvale Station is worth knowing and reflecting upon.

"Epic"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

If you want a recipe for a great children’s movie, just take a race of miniscule people who live in the forest, add a zany scientist with contraptions galore, combine it with a lonely teenage girl in need of a little adventure, and top it off with a three-legged dog and two talking mollusks. Sounds like fun, right? The problem is, sometimes even the best recipes don’t come out right.

There are two storylines here. First there is Mary Katherine or “MK” (Amanda Seyfried), whose mom apparently just died, and who shows up at her estranged dad’s house out in the middle of nowhere in hopes of reconnecting. Unfortunately, her dad hardly notices. He is too caught up trying to find a civilization of tiny people who he thinks live in the forest. He has cameras and microphones everywhere, a special headset built for observing little things, and a whole bunch of other weird-looking stuff. It’s all very crazy.

Except that—and here is the second storyline—those tiny people actually exist. There really is a miniature civilization living in the front yard. There are good guys (the Leafmen) and bad guys (Boggans) who ride around on birds, queens and generals who fight for control of the ecosystem, flowers that talk, and plenty more. There are even two annoying snails that just don’t know when to shut up.

These two storylines are pretty much unrelated until MK runs into the forest and somehow gets shrunk down to itty-bitty size. Suddenly she is right into the middle of the struggle between the Leafmen and the Boggans. It turns out a major war is going on, and the fate of the forest hangs in the balance.

MK does not exactly feel comfortable playing a role in this mess, but she has no choice. She hesitatingly joins up with two of the more important Leafmen: Ronin (Colin Farell) and his adopted teenage son, Nod (Josh Hutcherson). Together they try to thwart the Boggans and save the forest.

Meanwhile, MK’s dad has no idea that his daughter has been miniaturized. Now, if he would just keep doing what he was doing when he alienated his daughter, he would maybe be able to find her and help her out. Alas, he stops looking, because he feels bad about ignoring MK. How ironic. So MK has to either go it alone, or else find a way to grab her dad’s attention.

This is an odd part of the story. We have a deadbeat dad who is too obsessed with work to pay any attention to his daughter. And we have one very frustrated daughter. Given that this is a children’s movie, where the moral of the story matters a lot, one would expect the dad to reform. One would expect him to realize that his family is more important than his work and that he needs to cool it with the Leafman stuff. But he doesn’t change one bit. It is MK who has to change in order to make the relationship work. She has to accommodate her inattentive father. She has to devote herself to what interests him. Which seems kind of messed up.

This speaks to some broader issues with “Epic”. It seems to be set up all right. The setting seems fun, the characters seem interesting, and the plot seems promising. But it just fails to come together. There is something missing.

A good children’s movie has a compelling moral. It highlights what is beautiful and nice and innocent and refreshing about youth. It has lovely characters. But a really great children’s movie fits together in a certain special way. It emerges from its various plot devices, action sequences, twists, turns, smiles, tears, and jokes; it emerges as its own thing that somehow just gets it right.

“Epic” falls a little short. And that makes all the difference.

"Mud"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

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Along the banks of a muddy river in Arkansas lay a few clusters of small, run-down houseboats. They are nothing to look at. They are old and decaying. Their rotting wooden bones are rough, unpainted, and unadorned. Everything is dirty. The folks these shacks shelter are just trying to get on, living by the fish they can catch, and not too bothered by it either.

At first it feels like “Mud” might be full of awfulness. It starts with two 14-year-old boys—Ellis (Tye Sheridan) and Neckbone (Jacob Lofland)—setting off on an old fishing boat in the dirty waters of a river in rural Arkansas. There is an eerie sense of foreboding—we have no idea what they are up to, or why they are up to it; but it feels like something might go terribly wrong.

But then the tension settles. The movie starts to breathe easier—it begins to feel more like a good ol’ Huck Finn-style river adventure. The boys had just heard about an old fishing boat that somehow got stuck up in a tree on some island in the river. So they are only investigating. No harm in sight.

However, the mood re-intensifies when Ellis and Neckbone come across a guy named ‘Mud’ (Matthew McConaughey). No one knows what Mud is up to. He seems to be living on the island by himself, and he seems to be up to something sort of fishy. Yet, Mud seems nice enough and maybe just in need of a little help.

Neckbone is skeptical, but Ellis’ instinct is to help the stranger. Indeed, Ellis’ instinct in general is to help people out, to believe the best about them, and to expect that they will tell the truth and keep their word. This is really Ellis’ defining characteristic. He trusts people.

Fortunately, Mud keeps Ellis’ trust, at least at first. In fact, they start to develop a pretty fascinating friendship. Ellis brings Mud food and helps him with some other stuff. In return, Mud offers sage advice about life and love while also providing the boy with an adventure of sorts. The trade may not always be fair, but both parties get on all right.

For a while, that is. As Ellis and Neckbone run around town doing Mud’s bidding, they realize that Mud’s situation is a bit more complicated than they had anticipated. It turns out not everyone thinks Mud is the best. Not everyone is keen to help him out.

What the boys have to decide is whether to stick with Mud, who is their buddy by now, or to turn their backs on him for their own ends. They have to decide whether loyalty to this stranger who they only just met, and who may end up being a bad and dangerous dude, is loyalty worth preserving. Maybe part of growing up is figuring out who one ought to discard.

These issues are subtler than that, however; which is part of what that makes “Mud” a really good movie. Ellis’ trusting nature might be naïve and immature—something to grow out of. But it isn’t obvious. Sure, his faith in Mud, his parents, and various other people gets Ellis into trouble. It breaks his heart, too. But that doesn’t mean his faith is misplaced or unwise. Maybe Ellis just shows us that it is best to help a stranger in need, even if it does cost a lot.

“Mud” is also really good from a technical standpoint. I enjoyed—and I still enjoy, as I think about it more—its pace, its mood, its feel. All the dirt is warm and kind. It bespeaks a simplicity that supports, and in fact uplifts, the film’s thematic material.

The acting is great as well. Even Matthew McConaughey—yes, Matthew McConaughey—does a wonderful job. (It makes me think maybe he is a talented actor who just picks really bad roles most of the time.)

I wasn’t sure what I was getting into when I sat down to see “Mud”. I am still not sure what I got into. But I know it was worth every minute.

"Admission"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

Portia Nathan (Tina Fey) trades in disappointment. She is a Princeton admissions counselor, and basically what she does is condense a person’s whole life into a single, small folder full of stats, figures, proficiencies, marketable traits, etc.—you know, the stuff that really matters. Then Portia decides who is worthy. Worthy, that is, of gaining entrance into Princeton, which of course is the highly prestigious kind of place where all the successful and interesting and productive people go to learn how to be very successful, very interesting, and very productive.

Portia trades in disappointment because, well, not every who wants to go to Princeton gets to go to Princeton. Not by a long shot.

And that includes Jeremiah (Nat Wolff). Jeremiah is an exceptionally bright kid who gets bad grades because he is unconventional (He calls himself an ‘autodidact’, which just means he is self taught. People in the movie keep mentioning that Jeremiah calls himself an autodidact as if the fact that he understands the word is proof of his brilliance. It’s annoying.). Unfortunately, unconventional students do not usually get into Princeton.

Nevertheless, Jeremiah and his teacher, John Pressman (Paul Rudd), keep at it. They email Portia, call her, visit her office, and even invite her to their unique little school where they chop wood, learn about robotics, and occasionally partake in a little cow midwifery. Portia is a busy woman, though. She likes Jeremiah all right, but she also knows he is a long shot.

However, it turns out that John has another motive for introducing Portia and Jeremiah. John believes that Jeremiah is Portia’s son (the son Portia had back when she herself was unconventional). Portia does not know what to do. At first she resists; she is angry and depressed. Then she tries to bargain her way out of contact with Jeremiah. Finally, though, Portia decides to accept the situation and embrace Jeremiah. It all looks a lot like the stages of grief, but hey, at least Portia ends up on the right team.

Portia feels like she owes it to Jeremiah to get him into Princeton. That is the least she can do, I guess, and I suppose the hope is that a little Ivy-league love will fix everything. The problem is that, despite his intelligence, Jeremiah’s file does not look great. Also, it turns out that Portia is not in a position to unilaterally decide whether Jeremiah gets in. And anyway, Portia has other things to worry about—her long-term boyfriend just broke up with her, for instance. Plus, she doesn’t know how she feels about John; maybe she likes him. Oh, and Portia’s mom is mean.

A lot happens in “Admission”. One thing this movie has going for it is two enormously likable lead actors. Tina Fey is quirky and down to earth. She comes off as smart and sophisticated, but not pretentious—the kind of person who really enjoys hotdogs and lousy TV shows. Rudd’s appeal is similar. He can be goofy at times, but he also knows how to be serious. Just like Fey, he seems smart, but again, grounded in reality.

Even so, “Admission” does not work. This is a miracle, given how hard it is to resist a duo like Fey and Rudd. But nothing about this movie feels right. Everything is rushed along. Storylines are added here and there. Twists veer off to who knows where. One minute the world is coming to an end, and five minutes later everyone is one big happy family.

“Admission” is supposed to be a romantic comedy. But it is neither romantic nor comedic. It is more like a mildly amusing series of events wherein two people hook up a few times. Tina Fey and Paul Rudd may make sense, but Portia Nathan and John Pressman do not.

Tina Fey usually writes her own movies, but she took a break on this one. So I guess the moral is: Fey needs to get back to work.

"Jack the Giant Slayer"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

I walked out of “Jack the Giant Slayer”. It was not the worst movie I have ever seen. And I bet some people—maybe even a lot of people—will enjoy it. I simply could not take it. It was just bad enough, and bad enough in all the wrong ways, that after about 87 minutes I could not bear it any longer. I had to leave.

So here is what I know. “Jack the Giant Slayer” is mostly a love story about Jack and Isabelle. Jack (Nicholas Hoult) is a poor farm boy, and Isabelle (Eleanor Tomlinson) is a rich princess; Isabelle just wants to be normal, but Jack has had enough of normal.

Then this happens. Isabelle tries to hang with some commoners, gets threatened, Jack defends her honor, Isabelle is impressed, Jack finds out Isabelle is a princess, but princesses are not allowed to fall in love with farm boys, they have to marry rich and evil advisors to good-hearted but oblivious kings, but Isabelle seems to really like Jack, and Jack of course really likes Isabelle, it’s really too bad, etc. Etc. (If you walk into the theater late, just watch the first bit of “Aladdin” when you get home. Same thing.)

Anyway, Jack thinks that is that. So he puts Isabelle out of his mind and moves on with his day. And an eventful day it is. Jack sells his horse to an antsy monk for some beans. Jack’s uncle is not happy about the trade. So they fight. But it turns out that the beans are magical. So hey, maybe it was a good trade after all.

Or not. One of the beans’ magical powers is to make a super huge beanstalk when one gets wet. So what happens is Jack accidentally lets one of the beans drop beneath his house, and then it rains, and you know, the whole thing goes sky high. Not so good.

Oh, and as it turns out, Princess Isabelle, who is trying to run away, finds her way to Jack’s house right before the incident. So although Jack is left back on solid ground, the love of his life (that he just met) is sent into the stratosphere. Again: not so good.

But every cloud has a silver lining; every peril is a hero’s chance to save the day. Jack—along with the king’s man, Elmont (Ewan McGregor), Isabelle’s future husband, Roderick (Stanley Tucci), and a few others—climbs the beanstalk. It is a harrowing adventure, the ills of which are relieved only by some spirited (albeit nauseating) bean- and beanstalk-related humor.

When the team of heroes reaches the top, they learn that Isabelle has been abducted by a race of ugly, violent giants who eat their own boogers. It does not look good for the rescuers. The giants are pretty tough. Plus, Roderick turns out to be a baddie. So that doesn’t help. When it comes down to it, all that stands between the good guys and utter ruin is a scrawny farm boy named ‘Jack’.

Technically I don’t know whether or not Jack saves the day. It is possible that they all die horrible deaths at the hands of the giants and Roderick becomes ruler of the world. But I’m a betting man, and I bet that is not how it turns out. I bet Jack comes up big, and I bet he gets the girl too.

Furthermore, I bet that if you had to bet, you would bet with me. Why? Because you do not actually have to see this movie in order to know that it is painfully predictable, riddled with clichés, and just so very unoriginal. This movie—or the three-quarters of it I saw—is a slapdash bundle of truisms and tropes that probably aren’t even true or right; and even if they are true or right, my goodness, who cares?

Does this make “Jack the Giant Slayer” a bad movie? Well I think so (but I also think the acting is bad and the target audience is unclear, but now I feel like I am just being mean). Others may disagree. Or hey, maybe the end of the movie is great.