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.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
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.
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