Lettergrade: C
The Harry Potter books get better the further into the series you get, but I realized while watching this new one, Harry Potter And The Half-Blood Prince, that the films have been doing the opposite for me. I've had that nagging feeling since seeing the fourth movie, Goblet Of Fire, directed by Mike Newell, which distilled its very long (but very good) antecedent novel into a 2.5 hour movie and lost a lot of the soul in the process. I complained about him at the time, but now that we're here, I'd take Newell back in a heartbeat.
Part six was made by David Yates, who also directed part five. Both movies have the same problems, which are almost too numerous to wrap my head around. I'm one to who believes that a movie need not recreate the plot of book precisely as long as the spirit and sentiment are both well honored. My problem isn't with what was changed or omitted: It's more that what is there often fails to have a effective dramatic impact and tends to feel flat and perfunctory, which is to say that several story lines from the book are hinted at, but not given much follow-through. Far too many scenes are messy and without a clear focus.
I have a feeling that Yates is a very emotionally reserved person, and one of the big crimes of his two Potter films is that he's taken books that brim with imagination and sophisticated, interesting characters, and has made them into films that are kinda one-note and dull. Even though the stories have been getting darker, we're still talking about teenage wizards here, and the books have managed to have a great deal of fun while steadily growing more serious. Why is there so little joy in Yates' Potter movies?
The screenplay discards a lot of little, easy-to-film plot devices that might have made everything stick together and flow better. One example is minor, but the principle is very important: Early in the book, Dumbledore tells Harry that he will be taking private lessons with him this year, but does not explain what the nature of those lessons will be. It is exciting because Harry walks around for a bit, wondering with his friends if he'll be learning special defensive magic spells, etc, until the first lesson arrives and he is surprised to find that Dumbledore means to educate him about the history of Tom Riddle, the boy who would grow up to be the villainous Voledmort. Now, in the movie Dumbledore never tells Harry that private lessons are coming: He just calls him to his office one night, and they begin. What's missing is the fantastic lead-up to that first lesson, which both provides the pleasure of anticipating what's going to happen and then makes the moment seem more important when it arrives. This is one of the great "question / answer" devices of dramatic storytelling that J.K. Rowling is great at it: Something mysterious is going on beyond that door in the room that we cannot get to? What in the world is happening in there? Well, we aren't told for a while, so it creates a mini mystery to chew on for a bit.
Draco Malfoy, Harry's arch nemesis at Hogwart's, is up to no good with a secret mission in this story. The book has glimpses of him sneaking around and doing secretive things, but why do that when the movie can just show you everything right away and then treat you to a seemingly endless series of scenes of him doing it? Time and time again, dramatic mysteries like this are omitted from the film, including the biggest one of all -- the one that is practically screamed out by the title: "Who is the Half-Blood Prince?" Oh, that mystery is kept alive here and there, I guess, but it doesn't drive the film the way it drives the book, and when it is revealed toward the end, it is almost out of obligation and free of any dramatic heft. Sort of like, "Oh yeah, and here's what the title was supposed to mean."
The more I think about it, that's the thing that really chaps my ass about the two Yates films: All this masterful plotting was right there in the book, and it would have taken very litlte screentime to do it! In some cases, less! They had already built the sets and bought the actors there and everything -- All that was missing was a good understanding of the text and the will to put it on screen. I mean, the flippin' dialogue was already there too! Yates and screenwriter Steve Kloves merely had to copy it over to the script and have the actors say it! In particular, I was very disappointed that the scenes where Harry and Dumbledore analyze what they've seen in the Tom Riddle flashbacks were omitted. One of the great pleasures of this particular book is that it is the first time Harry gets to spend a good deal of up-close and personal time with Dumbledore. The text is very rich: Dumbledore is an intelligent and seemingly warm man from a distance, but Harry finds him to be aloof and difficult to access as he gets to know him better. On another level, Dumbledore knows that Harry has a difficult mission ahead of him, and that he himself might not be around to see him through. Their long conversations are supposed to be about preparing Harry for the future, whether he knows it or not. At the end of the story, Harry is supposed to be much more in the adult world than he was at the beginning, but Yates omits most of these scenes and is not able to make us feel that otherwise. What a waste of some great source material and an enormous budget.
Moving on to technical comments, I thought the cinematography (by Amélie's Bruno Delbonnel) was gorgeous until we neared the climax, and then I started to feel it was way over the top. Things were way too filtered and processed looking... This is a fantasy movie that is predicated on a magical world existing between the cracks and in the hidden spaces of the one we live in. Why shoot it in a way that removes us from reality as much as possible?
Nicholas Hooper wrote the bland musical score for the previous movie, and his his work is even more conspicuously inadequate this time out. Even I, a non-musician, can spot number of places where memorable themes and strong music would have helped the picture immeasurably, and might have even saved it. Hooper had done a couple TV movies and nature documentaries before getting the job on Phoenix. To trust an important job to someone with so few qualifications and only vaguely relevant experience is a real shame. Even moreso when you consider that this is a series which contains excellent scores by John Williams and Patrick Doyle. Warner Bros. has apparently told Yates that they will not allow Hooper to return for further installments, which is great news indeed.
The editing by Mark Day is likewise a fucking travesty. We never get a good look at any of the rooms these characters are in, and important lines are played completely off camera or in wide shots where they fail to land with the audience in any meaningful way. Also, there are many scenes, like Slughorn's first class, where we look at his back pretty much the whole time he's talking! If you look at the scene, there's evidence that the proper coverage was there, but for some reason Day assembled everything in the least dynamic, least engaging way possible. Consistently, there's a ton of space between lines as well, which could have easily been tightened up to play better. Better yet, that valuable real estate could have been used to - oh, I don't know - insert more of the dialogue from the book.
I'm sad that they're sticking with this director for the last book (which will be split into two movies), because he's cheap and reportedly easy to work with. I guess it's the way of the world, but the series was much more interesting when big-name directors were allowed to put their own spin on the material and really interpret the books. Say what you will about Chris Columbus (parts 1 and 2), Alfonso Cuarón (part 3) and Newell, but at least they understood classical filmmaking inside and out and were able to do interesting things within those traditions, albeit to varrying degrees of success.
Part of their success came from hiring a good support team: Good editors, qualified composers, etc. The amazing set design team came pre installed when Yates joined the series for part 5, and the actors have always been top notch. He has hired great DPs for his two movies, and will be working with another great, Eduardo Serra (of Unbreakable and The Girl With The Pearl Earring fame) on the two Deathly Hallows flicks. Nevertheless, he's brought in bush-league semi-pros to handle some of the other key creative roles, and for movies of this kind of scope that's just unforgivable.
My review of Order Of The Phoenix
July 4, 2009
Transformers 2: Revenge Of The Fallen (07/04/09)
Lettergrade: D
Critics, Transformers fans, and casual film-goers alike all agree that Transformers 2: Revenge Of The Fallen is pretty bad. I don't feel like I need to bend over backward to make that argument. But trying to come up with something insightful - or even witty - to say about the movie is another story. In the first line of his essay, Roger Ebert calls the movie "a horrible experience of unbearable length, briefly punctuated by three or four amusing moments." How in the world can a bush league player like myself hope to compete with a comment like that?
I'll start by rehashing a number of observations I had about the first movie: Again, I could barely tell a single one of the robots apart (not counting Optimus Prime, Bumblebee and two illiterate black robots who are new to the cast this time). Megan Fox is still one of the worst actresses I've ever seen in a major motion picture, boasting, as others have noted, the appearance of the porn star and the acting talent to match. The cinematography is a little better this time, but is still marred by Michael Bay's signature preference for getting the lens as close to the subject as possible, then shaking the hell out of it as the shot happens. This, combined with the hyperactive editing, creates the feeling that you're watching the whole movie on a small boat in rough waters. What's wrong with actually getting a good look at whatever's happening on screen?
I loved the Transformers cartoon show when I was a kid, and one of the great pleasures of the first movie was that trailer voice-over maestro Peter Cullen was brought in to once again provide the voice of Optimus Prime. He's back this time, and is joined by more members of the old guard as well, most conspicuously voice god Frank Welker as Soundwave, who floats above the earth intercepting communications as a satellite.
I can't think of much else to say that hasn't already been said. The plot is ludicrous, incomprehensible, and barely worth discussing. Logic is not part of this world, nor is continuity: On many occasions, you'll see a robot doing something in one shot, and then in the next shot, that exact same robot will be doing something totally different (or at least, I think it's the same robot). If you could tolerate and enjoy the first movie, you'll probably have the same feelings about this one. The first movie probably pissed me off a little more. Either I've mellowed a little or I was going in with lowered hopes.
The comic relief is puzzling. Julie White and Kevin Dunn return as Shia LaBeouf's parents. White, a really funny actress, is again allowed to just basically do whatever the hell she wants and gnaw the scenery at will, such as during an extended sequence where she consumes pot brownies that she unknowingly purchased at a college campus bake-sale, and loses her shit for minutes on end (because she had never heard of pot during the 60s and 70s, apparently, and the brownies also contained concentrated doses of LSD). This is a movie where everything is so garish, and in-your-face, and utterly unconvincing that events like this didn't even really phase me.
One that did, though, happens with John Turturro, who returns as Agent Simmons. At one point during the film's third act in Egypt, he removes his trousers, revealing a tight thong underneath. "What's that?" one of the characters understandably wonders aloud. Off-camera -- and very quickly, almost so as not to be understood by those who are not paying close, close attention -- Turtorro seems to say, "Oh, I wear these when I want to fuck." I'm not sure how a line like that wound up in a PG-13 summer popcorn movie (or even what it is supposed to mean in the context of the scene), but suffice to say it was the most interesting one of the movie.
I'll leave you with a few links. The first is an hysterical post from Topless Robot, detailing the film's many incongruities. I also like how Rob ably points out that there's no reason for much of the plot to even happen if the All-Spark shard could easily do what it does to Optimus significantly earlier in the flick:
Topless Robot - Rob's Transformers 2 F.A.Q.s
My review of the first Transformers
And finally, a Verizon Fios commercial that came out a year or two back. I know he didn't direct it, but I still consider it the best thing that Michael Bay has ever been involved with:
Critics, Transformers fans, and casual film-goers alike all agree that Transformers 2: Revenge Of The Fallen is pretty bad. I don't feel like I need to bend over backward to make that argument. But trying to come up with something insightful - or even witty - to say about the movie is another story. In the first line of his essay, Roger Ebert calls the movie "a horrible experience of unbearable length, briefly punctuated by three or four amusing moments." How in the world can a bush league player like myself hope to compete with a comment like that?
I'll start by rehashing a number of observations I had about the first movie: Again, I could barely tell a single one of the robots apart (not counting Optimus Prime, Bumblebee and two illiterate black robots who are new to the cast this time). Megan Fox is still one of the worst actresses I've ever seen in a major motion picture, boasting, as others have noted, the appearance of the porn star and the acting talent to match. The cinematography is a little better this time, but is still marred by Michael Bay's signature preference for getting the lens as close to the subject as possible, then shaking the hell out of it as the shot happens. This, combined with the hyperactive editing, creates the feeling that you're watching the whole movie on a small boat in rough waters. What's wrong with actually getting a good look at whatever's happening on screen?
I loved the Transformers cartoon show when I was a kid, and one of the great pleasures of the first movie was that trailer voice-over maestro Peter Cullen was brought in to once again provide the voice of Optimus Prime. He's back this time, and is joined by more members of the old guard as well, most conspicuously voice god Frank Welker as Soundwave, who floats above the earth intercepting communications as a satellite.
I can't think of much else to say that hasn't already been said. The plot is ludicrous, incomprehensible, and barely worth discussing. Logic is not part of this world, nor is continuity: On many occasions, you'll see a robot doing something in one shot, and then in the next shot, that exact same robot will be doing something totally different (or at least, I think it's the same robot). If you could tolerate and enjoy the first movie, you'll probably have the same feelings about this one. The first movie probably pissed me off a little more. Either I've mellowed a little or I was going in with lowered hopes.
The comic relief is puzzling. Julie White and Kevin Dunn return as Shia LaBeouf's parents. White, a really funny actress, is again allowed to just basically do whatever the hell she wants and gnaw the scenery at will, such as during an extended sequence where she consumes pot brownies that she unknowingly purchased at a college campus bake-sale, and loses her shit for minutes on end (because she had never heard of pot during the 60s and 70s, apparently, and the brownies also contained concentrated doses of LSD). This is a movie where everything is so garish, and in-your-face, and utterly unconvincing that events like this didn't even really phase me.
One that did, though, happens with John Turturro, who returns as Agent Simmons. At one point during the film's third act in Egypt, he removes his trousers, revealing a tight thong underneath. "What's that?" one of the characters understandably wonders aloud. Off-camera -- and very quickly, almost so as not to be understood by those who are not paying close, close attention -- Turtorro seems to say, "Oh, I wear these when I want to fuck." I'm not sure how a line like that wound up in a PG-13 summer popcorn movie (or even what it is supposed to mean in the context of the scene), but suffice to say it was the most interesting one of the movie.
I'll leave you with a few links. The first is an hysterical post from Topless Robot, detailing the film's many incongruities. I also like how Rob ably points out that there's no reason for much of the plot to even happen if the All-Spark shard could easily do what it does to Optimus significantly earlier in the flick:
Topless Robot - Rob's Transformers 2 F.A.Q.s
My review of the first Transformers
And finally, a Verizon Fios commercial that came out a year or two back. I know he didn't direct it, but I still consider it the best thing that Michael Bay has ever been involved with:
July 3, 2009
June 28, 2009
Year One (06/28/09)
Lettergrade: F
Year One features a number of actors and comedians I really like, as well as some very pretty women of whom I had never heard. It was co-written / directed by Harold Ramis, who has been involved with some of the best comedies of the 80s and 90s including Caddyshack, National Lampoon's Vacation and Groundhog Day. And in spite of all this, it is easily the worst movie I've seen of this year and many another.
What happened? How, I ask, can a high-concept comedy with so much talent and a sizable budget behind it play for 95 minutes and fail to get even a single laugh? In high school, I had a history teacher who promised to award an A to any student who managed to get every single answer on his multiple choice tests wrong -- the idea being that you need to know the right answers in order to be confident that you're selecting the wrong ones. More than once, I wondered if Ramis was trying for the comedy equivalent of that.
Jack Black and Arrested Development's Michael Cera are expelled from their primitive tribe, and go off on an adventure through various stories from the book of Genesis: Cain and Abel, Abraham who was ordered by God to kill his son Isaac, and then (very loosely) the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, which dominates the second half of the movie. Conceptually, it's a little like they took the plot from Mel Gibson's Apocalypto and mixed it with the approach of Mel Brooks' History Of The World Part I, but without the big laughs of either.
Almost everything is mishandled. The sets feel cheap and unconvincing. The smirking dialogue constantly winks at the camera in a very self-aware we're-famous-actors-pretending-to-be-ancient-people kind of way. The whole movie feels sort of like one of those sketches from the old Carson Tonight Show where Johnny would dress up like Tarzan or something and rattle off a series of hammy, pun-based jokes. When Johnny did it, it was endearing more than outright funny, but it was amusing nevertheless, mainly because he limited himself to 4 or 5 minutes.
Besides Ramis, two screenwriters from The Office are listed in the credits. Most of the dialogue exists without wit or punchline, leading me to believe that actors were given free reign to come up with it as they went. If, in fact, there was a script which includes anything that even remotely resembles what the actors say on screen, the writers ought to be barred from working in comedy ever again and the executives at Columbia Pictures who okayed their work need to be brought up on criminal negligence charges. These same guys are working on the script to the next Ghostbusters movie. Unless there are a few more names after theirs on the final poster (meaning that others were brought in to rewrite what they did) consider yourself warned.
One scene -- one goddamn scene! -- before the big climax attempts to persuade us that movie actually has a thematic point about how people throughout history have charted their own destiny: That you are the person you have the guts to present yourself as. It feels wafer-thin, half-assed, and almost insulting. Better to be open about the fact that you have no purpose, than to have no purpose and pretend otherwise.
In the car on the way home, Laura and I debated if this movie is worse than Watchmen and / or Observe & Report, the other contenders for biggest piece of junk that we've seen in 2009. Although I'm aware that the wounds are still fresh, I have to go with this. With Year One I knew there was great talent involved in pretty much every aspect of the production, which makes the movie that much worse when you think about how much better everyone could have done.
Year One features a number of actors and comedians I really like, as well as some very pretty women of whom I had never heard. It was co-written / directed by Harold Ramis, who has been involved with some of the best comedies of the 80s and 90s including Caddyshack, National Lampoon's Vacation and Groundhog Day. And in spite of all this, it is easily the worst movie I've seen of this year and many another.
What happened? How, I ask, can a high-concept comedy with so much talent and a sizable budget behind it play for 95 minutes and fail to get even a single laugh? In high school, I had a history teacher who promised to award an A to any student who managed to get every single answer on his multiple choice tests wrong -- the idea being that you need to know the right answers in order to be confident that you're selecting the wrong ones. More than once, I wondered if Ramis was trying for the comedy equivalent of that.
Jack Black and Arrested Development's Michael Cera are expelled from their primitive tribe, and go off on an adventure through various stories from the book of Genesis: Cain and Abel, Abraham who was ordered by God to kill his son Isaac, and then (very loosely) the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, which dominates the second half of the movie. Conceptually, it's a little like they took the plot from Mel Gibson's Apocalypto and mixed it with the approach of Mel Brooks' History Of The World Part I, but without the big laughs of either.
Almost everything is mishandled. The sets feel cheap and unconvincing. The smirking dialogue constantly winks at the camera in a very self-aware we're-famous-actors-pretending-to-be-ancient-people kind of way. The whole movie feels sort of like one of those sketches from the old Carson Tonight Show where Johnny would dress up like Tarzan or something and rattle off a series of hammy, pun-based jokes. When Johnny did it, it was endearing more than outright funny, but it was amusing nevertheless, mainly because he limited himself to 4 or 5 minutes.
Besides Ramis, two screenwriters from The Office are listed in the credits. Most of the dialogue exists without wit or punchline, leading me to believe that actors were given free reign to come up with it as they went. If, in fact, there was a script which includes anything that even remotely resembles what the actors say on screen, the writers ought to be barred from working in comedy ever again and the executives at Columbia Pictures who okayed their work need to be brought up on criminal negligence charges. These same guys are working on the script to the next Ghostbusters movie. Unless there are a few more names after theirs on the final poster (meaning that others were brought in to rewrite what they did) consider yourself warned.
One scene -- one goddamn scene! -- before the big climax attempts to persuade us that movie actually has a thematic point about how people throughout history have charted their own destiny: That you are the person you have the guts to present yourself as. It feels wafer-thin, half-assed, and almost insulting. Better to be open about the fact that you have no purpose, than to have no purpose and pretend otherwise.
In the car on the way home, Laura and I debated if this movie is worse than Watchmen and / or Observe & Report, the other contenders for biggest piece of junk that we've seen in 2009. Although I'm aware that the wounds are still fresh, I have to go with this. With Year One I knew there was great talent involved in pretty much every aspect of the production, which makes the movie that much worse when you think about how much better everyone could have done.
June 21, 2009
Whatever Works (06/21/09)
Lettergrade: C-
I enjoyed Whatever Works, but will attach the comments that I have about most Woody Allen movies... First among them that it's a little unfocused, and rambly, and I somewhat suspect that Woody decided to film his first draft of the script rather than do another pass and make everything a bit tighter.
The big draw for me with this one is that Curb Your Enthusiasm's Larry David fills the lead role, which, in Allen movies, is typically seen as the surrogate for the director himself. This part was originally written with the late Zero Mostel in mind, apparently, and David's performance comes off as something of a mix between that actor and Allen.
David plays a brilliant former academic who lives in Brooklyn, hating and complaining about the rest of the world. His life is slowly changed when he takes in a naive southern runaway played by Evan Rachel Wood. Naturally, they clash wildly at first in a way that would make Oscar and Felix proud, but then a kind of messed up, dysfunctional love ensues that could only happen when Woody Allen is involved. Eventually, Wood's parents (Patricia Clarkson and Ed Begley, Jr.) arrive in New York looking for her and all sorts of relationship drama and sexual craziness erupts.
This movie is pure, pure farce. I'm not the world's biggest Woody Allen fan, and as such I'd describe the movie as pleasant, but nothing terribly special or memorable. Allen's movies seem to be trending toward more broad and crowd-pleasin' lately (not counting Match Point and Cassandra's Dream), and as has been standard for Allen movies for while now, very few of the characters in Whatever Works feel like they come from a real place: They're mostly derived from caricatures and stereotypes and templates set up by other movies. By that standard, if you like his recent work, you probably won't have much of a problem with this either.
Woody, at 73, still writes and directs one flick a year. Sometimes they're good, sometimes they're not, but there's no mistaking that he made them. The movies are inexpensive enough that they almost always turn a profit, meaning that he can pretty much go on making them as long as he wants to. Some of his pictures, like last year's Vicky Christina Barcelona, just kind of go on and on, and then suddenly end without much notice or fanfare. Whatever Works does that too, and it is in that spirit that I'll do the same with this review.
I enjoyed Whatever Works, but will attach the comments that I have about most Woody Allen movies... First among them that it's a little unfocused, and rambly, and I somewhat suspect that Woody decided to film his first draft of the script rather than do another pass and make everything a bit tighter.
The big draw for me with this one is that Curb Your Enthusiasm's Larry David fills the lead role, which, in Allen movies, is typically seen as the surrogate for the director himself. This part was originally written with the late Zero Mostel in mind, apparently, and David's performance comes off as something of a mix between that actor and Allen.
David plays a brilliant former academic who lives in Brooklyn, hating and complaining about the rest of the world. His life is slowly changed when he takes in a naive southern runaway played by Evan Rachel Wood. Naturally, they clash wildly at first in a way that would make Oscar and Felix proud, but then a kind of messed up, dysfunctional love ensues that could only happen when Woody Allen is involved. Eventually, Wood's parents (Patricia Clarkson and Ed Begley, Jr.) arrive in New York looking for her and all sorts of relationship drama and sexual craziness erupts.
This movie is pure, pure farce. I'm not the world's biggest Woody Allen fan, and as such I'd describe the movie as pleasant, but nothing terribly special or memorable. Allen's movies seem to be trending toward more broad and crowd-pleasin' lately (not counting Match Point and Cassandra's Dream), and as has been standard for Allen movies for while now, very few of the characters in Whatever Works feel like they come from a real place: They're mostly derived from caricatures and stereotypes and templates set up by other movies. By that standard, if you like his recent work, you probably won't have much of a problem with this either.
Woody, at 73, still writes and directs one flick a year. Sometimes they're good, sometimes they're not, but there's no mistaking that he made them. The movies are inexpensive enough that they almost always turn a profit, meaning that he can pretty much go on making them as long as he wants to. Some of his pictures, like last year's Vicky Christina Barcelona, just kind of go on and on, and then suddenly end without much notice or fanfare. Whatever Works does that too, and it is in that spirit that I'll do the same with this review.
June 14, 2009
The Hangover (6/14/09)
Lettergrade: B+
Some of my least favorite scenes that typically appear in movies these days are when a bunch of characters sit around getting drunk or high. It's not that I don't mind throwing back a few drinks myself every now and again, but when big sections of a major motion picture are spent in endless, unfocused scenes like that... well, it's just the most uninteresting, low-brow kind of junk in the world to me, seemingly existing only for cheap-laugh value and shameless youth appeal.
Fortunately The Hangover, a really funny movie, skips right over these scenes entirely, and jumps instead to the devastation of the following morning. The characters remember precious little of what happened during the previous night's bachelor party, but one is now missing an incisor, their 4200 dollar a night villa at Caesar's Palace is completely trashed, and somehow live chickens, an adult tiger, and a baby of unknown origin all wound up taking residence there. Quickly, the survivors discover that the groom-to-be is missing too, and so our trio of heroes have no choice but to use whatever clues they can in order to piece together just what the hell happened and how the wreckage got as bad as it did.
I don't think I would like frat-boy centric director Todd Phillips much if I knew him in real life, but between Old School, Road Trip and this, I must admit that he's made some really funny movies. In Hangover, much like Old School, he's putting grown men who have refused to grow up in situations with respectable adults who desperately want to recapture the recklessness of their youth. You can criticize the guy for not going after the most intellectually lofty material, but at least his body of work has a running theme. Suck on that, Ron Howard.
Ed Helms, Bradley Cooper, and Justin Bartha are all really entertaining as the leads, but it is cult comic Zach Galifianakis who walks away with pretty much every scene. As he does in his standup, he makes every moment you spend with him extra sweaty and uncomfortable. I really admired a lot of the songs they selected for the movie too, particularly a scene near the end where "Iko Iko" is played and an always welcome appearance by "The Dan Band," who have popped up in most of Phillips' movies.
Not all of the movie works, however. In particular, I did not care for the Japanese mobster guy who somewhat drives the middle part of the screenplay (although his entrance is pretty priceless). The last third of the picture similarly falls into somewhat predictable territory, but then I suppose that this is a big studio comedy after all, and escaping a formulaic climax isn't always possible. Nevertheless, enough of it does work that I really enjoyed myself: It is one of those flicks that's filled with so many bizarre, random moments that it's hard not to laugh. I suspect it may not hold up if I watch it in my living room several months down the line, but in a packed theater full of people who are really amped up to see the flick, it is almost therapeutic.
The film was reportedly shot in about 15 days, further evidence that a film need not a ridiculous shooting schedule or an insane amount of resources in order to wind up any good.
Some of my least favorite scenes that typically appear in movies these days are when a bunch of characters sit around getting drunk or high. It's not that I don't mind throwing back a few drinks myself every now and again, but when big sections of a major motion picture are spent in endless, unfocused scenes like that... well, it's just the most uninteresting, low-brow kind of junk in the world to me, seemingly existing only for cheap-laugh value and shameless youth appeal.
Fortunately The Hangover, a really funny movie, skips right over these scenes entirely, and jumps instead to the devastation of the following morning. The characters remember precious little of what happened during the previous night's bachelor party, but one is now missing an incisor, their 4200 dollar a night villa at Caesar's Palace is completely trashed, and somehow live chickens, an adult tiger, and a baby of unknown origin all wound up taking residence there. Quickly, the survivors discover that the groom-to-be is missing too, and so our trio of heroes have no choice but to use whatever clues they can in order to piece together just what the hell happened and how the wreckage got as bad as it did.
I don't think I would like frat-boy centric director Todd Phillips much if I knew him in real life, but between Old School, Road Trip and this, I must admit that he's made some really funny movies. In Hangover, much like Old School, he's putting grown men who have refused to grow up in situations with respectable adults who desperately want to recapture the recklessness of their youth. You can criticize the guy for not going after the most intellectually lofty material, but at least his body of work has a running theme. Suck on that, Ron Howard.
Ed Helms, Bradley Cooper, and Justin Bartha are all really entertaining as the leads, but it is cult comic Zach Galifianakis who walks away with pretty much every scene. As he does in his standup, he makes every moment you spend with him extra sweaty and uncomfortable. I really admired a lot of the songs they selected for the movie too, particularly a scene near the end where "Iko Iko" is played and an always welcome appearance by "The Dan Band," who have popped up in most of Phillips' movies.
Not all of the movie works, however. In particular, I did not care for the Japanese mobster guy who somewhat drives the middle part of the screenplay (although his entrance is pretty priceless). The last third of the picture similarly falls into somewhat predictable territory, but then I suppose that this is a big studio comedy after all, and escaping a formulaic climax isn't always possible. Nevertheless, enough of it does work that I really enjoyed myself: It is one of those flicks that's filled with so many bizarre, random moments that it's hard not to laugh. I suspect it may not hold up if I watch it in my living room several months down the line, but in a packed theater full of people who are really amped up to see the flick, it is almost therapeutic.
The film was reportedly shot in about 15 days, further evidence that a film need not a ridiculous shooting schedule or an insane amount of resources in order to wind up any good.
June 7, 2009
Land Of The Lost (6/7/09)
Lettergrade: F
If I live to be a thousand, I will never understand what audience Land Of The Lost was made for. The film is marketed as a family adventure comedy. That description loosely fits, I guess, but the "adventure" is pretty intense in a Jurassic Park kind of way, and the "comedy" is geared toward Will Ferrell and Danny McBride's usual cliental, meaning that it includes a surprising number of drug and sex jokes. The "family" part kinda gets cancelled out by the other two, although neither the filmmakers nor the people at Universal who marketed this sucker seem to be aware of that.
I usually like those kinds of movies individually, but mixing them all together like this? The end result certainly isn't awful, but it's fair to say that it doesn't really work either. There are some pleasant laughs mixed in with the nifty sets and pretty photography, but most of it is just kind of "there," and then it's over. A budget of 150 million should really leave more of an impression.
Since it's Ferrell, I'm inclined to think of it as a comedy above all else. By that standard, the big problem is the jokes only work sporadically. Comedies are best when they feel a little cheap. The big exception I can think of is the first Ghostbusters, which might not have worked as well had Bill Murray not been around to roll his eyes and inject a smart-assed comment between expensive visual effects. Otherwise, they really lose a lot of the spontaneous levity that makes a comedy funny. When writing about Observe & Report a few weeks back, I wondered if Seth Rogen had already gotten into Adam Sandler territory, in terms of me not liking anything he makes anymore. I traced my Sandler shift back to 2000's Little Nicky, the first time Columbia gave him a big budget to work with after he had raked in a lot of bucks with cheapies like Happy Gilmore and The Wedding Singer. I would argue that no movie he's made since even remotely matched the quality of the earlier ones. There's a lesson there, I think.
If I live to be a thousand, I will never understand what audience Land Of The Lost was made for. The film is marketed as a family adventure comedy. That description loosely fits, I guess, but the "adventure" is pretty intense in a Jurassic Park kind of way, and the "comedy" is geared toward Will Ferrell and Danny McBride's usual cliental, meaning that it includes a surprising number of drug and sex jokes. The "family" part kinda gets cancelled out by the other two, although neither the filmmakers nor the people at Universal who marketed this sucker seem to be aware of that.
I usually like those kinds of movies individually, but mixing them all together like this? The end result certainly isn't awful, but it's fair to say that it doesn't really work either. There are some pleasant laughs mixed in with the nifty sets and pretty photography, but most of it is just kind of "there," and then it's over. A budget of 150 million should really leave more of an impression.
Since it's Ferrell, I'm inclined to think of it as a comedy above all else. By that standard, the big problem is the jokes only work sporadically. Comedies are best when they feel a little cheap. The big exception I can think of is the first Ghostbusters, which might not have worked as well had Bill Murray not been around to roll his eyes and inject a smart-assed comment between expensive visual effects. Otherwise, they really lose a lot of the spontaneous levity that makes a comedy funny. When writing about Observe & Report a few weeks back, I wondered if Seth Rogen had already gotten into Adam Sandler territory, in terms of me not liking anything he makes anymore. I traced my Sandler shift back to 2000's Little Nicky, the first time Columbia gave him a big budget to work with after he had raked in a lot of bucks with cheapies like Happy Gilmore and The Wedding Singer. I would argue that no movie he's made since even remotely matched the quality of the earlier ones. There's a lesson there, I think.
May 30, 2009
Up (05/30/09)
Lettergrade: C
Pixar's Up has been getting a lot of four-star reviews. If we were talking only about the film's first 10 minutes - which beautifully encompass Carl's meeting, courtship and marriage to Elle (up to and including her passing) - I would agree completely: They're as poignant as any sequence Pixar has done previously. Unfortunately, though, those stellar 10 minutes are followed by a very strange movie which I must say I didn't much like. Mostly because of a bizarre lack of focus or cohesiveness: It's just too random and weird.
After Elle is gone, Carl, a life-long balloon salesman, is having trouble adapting to life. He's about to be sent to a retirement home courtesy of a court order, and so he decides to do the only logical thing: He ties enough balloons to his house so that he can fly it and all his possessions off to South America in order to fulfill his wife's childhood dream of living on a large cliff-face next to a majestic waterfall. Okaaaaay, but then things get strange: They make it to South America easily enough, but once they get there, they need to walk the remaining several miles with the still-floating house tethered to their bodies. Meanwhile, they're being chased by vicious dogs who all wear robotic collars which allow them to speak English to each other. Meanwhile still, there's a very old adventurer, resembling Ted Turner but voiced by Christopher Plummer, living out in the jungle trying to accomplish a particular mission which he feels will revitalize his credibility. Um... Carl and Elle watched his news reels when they were kids... and the press notes say that Carl is 78 now. How old is Charles Muntz supposed to be, exactly? And why has he been living in South America for the last 60 some years on his own? Why would he want to?
Around the time the talking dogs showed up I found myself wondering just what the frig this movie was supposed to be about. Now that I've made it to the end and have had time to think about it, I still don't know. There are too many comic subplots which seem to be there for laughs and no other reason. It's like they had a bunch of ideas they really liked sitting around and they finally found a movie to park them all in. Maybe if they had done a scene where Carl drops a bunch of acid before the balloons lift his house off its foundation, the rest of the movie might be more explainable in a Wizard Of Oz kind of way.
As is, I can't help but give the film a very dark reading: Carl is flying his house off on a trip that will probably kill him, in order to park his home next to a waterfall where he will essentially starve and die. That's fine to do a story like that (hey, it's what Ice Age was about), but it is diluted with so much comic relief that this aspect of the story seems barely present in the finished film. And if Carl had opened the book that Elle gave him earlier in the flick, wouldn't most of the movie have been avoided? In the film's second half, he's remarkably spry for a 78 year old, running up the side of dirigibles, and swinging on ropes through the air.
"But John," I can hear some of you asking, " What do you expect, it's a goddamn cartoon!" Yes, but this is Pixar, creator of masterworks like Toy Story 2 and Ratatouille, meaning that it should probably be held to a higher standard, which I am. The most successful of their movies exploit a simple premise well: "when people are not around, toys have a life of their own", "a rat becomes an expert chef at a famous Parisian restaurant", etc. The less successful are more like Cars, which takes place in an alternate reality that is exactly like Earth as we know it, but the with autos existing in the place of humans. The premise is just so funky and unrelatable that it somewhat loses contact with reality. Or at least, it loses contact with me, which clearly hasn't hurt their business in the short term, but might in the long run if they keep making fluff like this and I finally wise up and stop buying a ticket to see it. At times, Up feels like a semi remake of Scent Of A Woman and Into The Wild with a dash or two of Bad Santa thrown in whenever the fat fuck kid does something.
I guess it is entertaining, but apart from the scenes with Elle at the beginning, the movie is more like a series of ideas rather than a story. In retrospect, I'm a little annoyed that they put such a great opening sequence in a movie that has so little else going for it. That's Dreamworks Animation type shit... Shrek, Madacascar, Monsters Vs. Aliens... Actually, scratch that: More recent DW efforts like Kung Fu Panda have had a bit more of a point. A familiar point that has been done before, yes, but at least it has one. Maybe there's something in Up about not living in the past and choosing to let go and move on when a certain segment of your life is over, but frankly I feel that's big stretch to impose some meaning onto a movie that doesn't seem to be interested in having any.
Pixar's Up has been getting a lot of four-star reviews. If we were talking only about the film's first 10 minutes - which beautifully encompass Carl's meeting, courtship and marriage to Elle (up to and including her passing) - I would agree completely: They're as poignant as any sequence Pixar has done previously. Unfortunately, though, those stellar 10 minutes are followed by a very strange movie which I must say I didn't much like. Mostly because of a bizarre lack of focus or cohesiveness: It's just too random and weird.
After Elle is gone, Carl, a life-long balloon salesman, is having trouble adapting to life. He's about to be sent to a retirement home courtesy of a court order, and so he decides to do the only logical thing: He ties enough balloons to his house so that he can fly it and all his possessions off to South America in order to fulfill his wife's childhood dream of living on a large cliff-face next to a majestic waterfall. Okaaaaay, but then things get strange: They make it to South America easily enough, but once they get there, they need to walk the remaining several miles with the still-floating house tethered to their bodies. Meanwhile, they're being chased by vicious dogs who all wear robotic collars which allow them to speak English to each other. Meanwhile still, there's a very old adventurer, resembling Ted Turner but voiced by Christopher Plummer, living out in the jungle trying to accomplish a particular mission which he feels will revitalize his credibility. Um... Carl and Elle watched his news reels when they were kids... and the press notes say that Carl is 78 now. How old is Charles Muntz supposed to be, exactly? And why has he been living in South America for the last 60 some years on his own? Why would he want to?
Around the time the talking dogs showed up I found myself wondering just what the frig this movie was supposed to be about. Now that I've made it to the end and have had time to think about it, I still don't know. There are too many comic subplots which seem to be there for laughs and no other reason. It's like they had a bunch of ideas they really liked sitting around and they finally found a movie to park them all in. Maybe if they had done a scene where Carl drops a bunch of acid before the balloons lift his house off its foundation, the rest of the movie might be more explainable in a Wizard Of Oz kind of way.
As is, I can't help but give the film a very dark reading: Carl is flying his house off on a trip that will probably kill him, in order to park his home next to a waterfall where he will essentially starve and die. That's fine to do a story like that (hey, it's what Ice Age was about), but it is diluted with so much comic relief that this aspect of the story seems barely present in the finished film. And if Carl had opened the book that Elle gave him earlier in the flick, wouldn't most of the movie have been avoided? In the film's second half, he's remarkably spry for a 78 year old, running up the side of dirigibles, and swinging on ropes through the air.
"But John," I can hear some of you asking, " What do you expect, it's a goddamn cartoon!" Yes, but this is Pixar, creator of masterworks like Toy Story 2 and Ratatouille, meaning that it should probably be held to a higher standard, which I am. The most successful of their movies exploit a simple premise well: "when people are not around, toys have a life of their own", "a rat becomes an expert chef at a famous Parisian restaurant", etc. The less successful are more like Cars, which takes place in an alternate reality that is exactly like Earth as we know it, but the with autos existing in the place of humans. The premise is just so funky and unrelatable that it somewhat loses contact with reality. Or at least, it loses contact with me, which clearly hasn't hurt their business in the short term, but might in the long run if they keep making fluff like this and I finally wise up and stop buying a ticket to see it. At times, Up feels like a semi remake of Scent Of A Woman and Into The Wild with a dash or two of Bad Santa thrown in whenever the fat fuck kid does something.
I guess it is entertaining, but apart from the scenes with Elle at the beginning, the movie is more like a series of ideas rather than a story. In retrospect, I'm a little annoyed that they put such a great opening sequence in a movie that has so little else going for it. That's Dreamworks Animation type shit... Shrek, Madacascar, Monsters Vs. Aliens... Actually, scratch that: More recent DW efforts like Kung Fu Panda have had a bit more of a point. A familiar point that has been done before, yes, but at least it has one. Maybe there's something in Up about not living in the past and choosing to let go and move on when a certain segment of your life is over, but frankly I feel that's big stretch to impose some meaning onto a movie that doesn't seem to be interested in having any.
May 19, 2009
Angels & Demons (5/19/2009)
Lettergrade: C
I used to think that the National Treasure movies were really stupid, but that was until I saw 2006's The Da Vinci Code and realized how much worse it could really be. Perhaps I was holding it to a higher standard because the latter was based on a best-selling book and starred Tom Hanks (as opposed to a more bald-faced popcorn flick produced by Jerry Bruckheimer and starring world-class shit magnet Nicolas Cage). But now that I think of it, I don't know of anyone who has read Dan Brown's novels who hasn't said something to the effect of "there are some clever ideas in there, but the writing is AWFUL!" In any case, Angels & Demons, the sequel to Da Vinci, is probably a better film than its predecessor. Although it is effective as a religioso crime-thriller, I found it off-putting for similar reasons.
Here's the plot: The previous Pope has died, and the Catholic church is in the interim period where they're about to appoint a new Pope. Someone has kidnapped four Cardinals, who are seen as being the top candidates for the position. The bad guys promise to kill one would-be Pope an hour -- all along something called the "Trail of Light," which was made up of meeting places of the Illuminati, a secret organization devoted to science that has a centuries-old beef with the Catholic church (or something like that). Since so little is known about the Illuminati, no one could possibly begin to know how to find this trail. No one, that is, except ROBERT LANGON!
Hanks portrays ace "symbologist" Langon as a smug know-it-all who may or may not be aware of what a condensing prick he comes off as to pretty much everyone he interacts with in the movie. My big problem -- and this is more of a writing / directing thing -- is that he and his comely female sidekick (the stunning Ayelet Zurer) will begin to decode a mystery, and before you even start to have any idea what they're talking about, they've arrived at the answer, and are racing off toward it. It's like they're flooding you with factoids in the interest of showing off how well the screenwriters can use Wikipedia.
After the bad guys run out of Cardinals, their plan is to detonate an anti-matter bomb (don't ask) at midnight, wiping out virtually all of Vatican City. And so... our heroes basically need to run around recreating the storyline from Die Hard With A Vengence, but with a lot of Catholic shit and art history mixed in. Without giving anything away, the last part of the movie attempts a big God vs. Science debate. I guess they thought it'd be powerful or something. The movie does work as an above average thriller, however, and it is masterful at evoking the right amount of tension when needed.
The other big problem I would point out to you is this: The evil doers are going to a lot of trouble to kill these potential Popes at places of historical (albeit secret) significance, but then they're going to blow up everything anyway. The bodies would never have been found had Robert Langdon not stumbled into the mix, so what was the point? It is supposed to be an intellectual game of cat-and-mouse, but who would the mastermind be matching wits with had someone not randomly decided to bring in Langdon? Another annoying thing is that Langdon seems to have a gift for consistently showing up right at the exact moment a Cardinal is about to be killed. He also has a habit of dramatically shouting out the name of something that's clearly visible to everyone on screen and to the audience: "It's a pentagram!" Shades of Dan Brown's influence?
The flick was made by Ron Howard, whose pictures always have a highly professional sheen, but often lack any personality or soul. The bludgeoning score was composed by Hans Zimmer, whose music I would describe the exact same way. The two are perfectly suited to work with each other. Both turn in well-made, middle-of-road work. It is like inoffensive adult contemporary jazz, really: It's not bad, but it's not especially good ether.
My review of National Treasure 2: Book Of Secrets
My review of Frost/Nixon
I used to think that the National Treasure movies were really stupid, but that was until I saw 2006's The Da Vinci Code and realized how much worse it could really be. Perhaps I was holding it to a higher standard because the latter was based on a best-selling book and starred Tom Hanks (as opposed to a more bald-faced popcorn flick produced by Jerry Bruckheimer and starring world-class shit magnet Nicolas Cage). But now that I think of it, I don't know of anyone who has read Dan Brown's novels who hasn't said something to the effect of "there are some clever ideas in there, but the writing is AWFUL!" In any case, Angels & Demons, the sequel to Da Vinci, is probably a better film than its predecessor. Although it is effective as a religioso crime-thriller, I found it off-putting for similar reasons.
Here's the plot: The previous Pope has died, and the Catholic church is in the interim period where they're about to appoint a new Pope. Someone has kidnapped four Cardinals, who are seen as being the top candidates for the position. The bad guys promise to kill one would-be Pope an hour -- all along something called the "Trail of Light," which was made up of meeting places of the Illuminati, a secret organization devoted to science that has a centuries-old beef with the Catholic church (or something like that). Since so little is known about the Illuminati, no one could possibly begin to know how to find this trail. No one, that is, except ROBERT LANGON!
Hanks portrays ace "symbologist" Langon as a smug know-it-all who may or may not be aware of what a condensing prick he comes off as to pretty much everyone he interacts with in the movie. My big problem -- and this is more of a writing / directing thing -- is that he and his comely female sidekick (the stunning Ayelet Zurer) will begin to decode a mystery, and before you even start to have any idea what they're talking about, they've arrived at the answer, and are racing off toward it. It's like they're flooding you with factoids in the interest of showing off how well the screenwriters can use Wikipedia.
After the bad guys run out of Cardinals, their plan is to detonate an anti-matter bomb (don't ask) at midnight, wiping out virtually all of Vatican City. And so... our heroes basically need to run around recreating the storyline from Die Hard With A Vengence, but with a lot of Catholic shit and art history mixed in. Without giving anything away, the last part of the movie attempts a big God vs. Science debate. I guess they thought it'd be powerful or something. The movie does work as an above average thriller, however, and it is masterful at evoking the right amount of tension when needed.
The other big problem I would point out to you is this: The evil doers are going to a lot of trouble to kill these potential Popes at places of historical (albeit secret) significance, but then they're going to blow up everything anyway. The bodies would never have been found had Robert Langdon not stumbled into the mix, so what was the point? It is supposed to be an intellectual game of cat-and-mouse, but who would the mastermind be matching wits with had someone not randomly decided to bring in Langdon? Another annoying thing is that Langdon seems to have a gift for consistently showing up right at the exact moment a Cardinal is about to be killed. He also has a habit of dramatically shouting out the name of something that's clearly visible to everyone on screen and to the audience: "It's a pentagram!" Shades of Dan Brown's influence?
The flick was made by Ron Howard, whose pictures always have a highly professional sheen, but often lack any personality or soul. The bludgeoning score was composed by Hans Zimmer, whose music I would describe the exact same way. The two are perfectly suited to work with each other. Both turn in well-made, middle-of-road work. It is like inoffensive adult contemporary jazz, really: It's not bad, but it's not especially good ether.
My review of National Treasure 2: Book Of Secrets
My review of Frost/Nixon
May 7, 2009
Star Trek (05/07/09)
Lettergrade: B-
I'm not really a hardcore Trek fanatic, but I've seen all 10 of the features that were made prior to this one. I must admit that I thought at least half of them were, well, kinda shitty. The 4 or 5 good ones understood that while it is important not to weigh the audience down with with a lot of bullshit cumbersome Trek lore, there is also a lot of satisfaction to be had from picking up on threads from the previous episodes and letting them play out as part of a continuous story-line.
J.J. Abrams' Star Trek movie understands this perfectly. Despite all the ads which proclaim that it is "not your father's Star Trek," I was actually surprised (and satisfied) by how much the movie really has in common with the original six Shatner flicks, right down to the fact that -- unlike the less successful Next Generation movies which followed -- it is largely enjoyable, well-written, and reasonably exciting.
Although a Trek reboot featuring a young Kirk and Spock had been rumored since the late 80s, the finished movie probably owes its existence to the success of Batman Begins four years ago more than anything else. Trek's approach is actually more like that of Bryan Singer's Superman Returns in that it pays heavy homage to the earlier films in the series (In this case, Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan, which pretty much all the later films have drawn inspiration from). Unlike Singer, though, Abrams was smart enough to give the picture a clear, new identity, and not let his hard-on for the earlier flicks get in the way of making this one appealing to people outside of the fan base. The story even has a built-in device which signals that this Star Trek exists in a slightly different reality than the other Trek incarnations. I like that: The Shatner adventures are what they are, but the sequels that are made to this movie will be doing their own thing, which is how it should be.
Chris Pine takes over the Shatner role, and he is fantastic. Cocky, self-assured, womanzing... he simply feels right at home in the part. Same goes for Karl Urban, who is excellent as Dr. McCoy and Zachary Quinto, who takes over the role of the younger Spock (also played by Leonard Nimoy, who reprises the character later in the film). All in all, the film is fantastically well-cast. I'm glad they went for actors they felt would do well in the parts, rather than people who resembled the originals (which was another open ditch that Superman Returns drove right into).
The bad guy in this one is Nero, a genetically enhanced Romulan from the future, who plans to dominate the galaxy by inventing a popular line of self-titled CD burning software, and forcing it come pre-installed on all Windows operating systems. It's sort of a thankless role, but Eric Bana fills it ably.
I won't say much else, but the one thing that bothered me a bit was that a lot of alien species that are encountered in the movie look really stupid. Consider an early scene where Pine tries to pick up the chick playing Uhura in a space bar. There's an alien sitting between them... I don't know if he was a dude in a mask or a computer creation or what, but whomever was responsible for him should be ashamed by how cheap and crappy the end result looks. This galaxy is populated by several other discount aliens as well, but fortunately the story works to the point where they're a mild distraction rather than anything else. And hey, the original series had a lot of crappy looking creatures as well, so maybe it's all part of the homage?
I've never been able to make it through an episode of the original Shatner series from the 60s. I've enjoyed episodes of the Next Generation and Deep Space Nine series whenever I've happened to catch them, but while I've tried to watch episodes of Voyager and Enterprise, the sheer dullness of those shows usually put me to sleep within minutes. The producer responsible for all those series (except the original) was Rick Berman. The man was a serious cancer on the franchise, and the fact that he has nothing to do with this movie whatsoever was my first indication that it had a fighting chance of being good.
Still, though, I think Paramount Pictures is thinking that this film will have more mass appeal than it probably will. Despite the fact that it is an entertaining, exciting, well-made movie, Star Trek is still on the marquee, and for many people I know, women especially, that's the deal-breaker. I don't know if it's the best movie in the series, but it's a good one, and that's more than you could say for any other Trek project in recent history.
I'm not really a hardcore Trek fanatic, but I've seen all 10 of the features that were made prior to this one. I must admit that I thought at least half of them were, well, kinda shitty. The 4 or 5 good ones understood that while it is important not to weigh the audience down with with a lot of bullshit cumbersome Trek lore, there is also a lot of satisfaction to be had from picking up on threads from the previous episodes and letting them play out as part of a continuous story-line.
J.J. Abrams' Star Trek movie understands this perfectly. Despite all the ads which proclaim that it is "not your father's Star Trek," I was actually surprised (and satisfied) by how much the movie really has in common with the original six Shatner flicks, right down to the fact that -- unlike the less successful Next Generation movies which followed -- it is largely enjoyable, well-written, and reasonably exciting.
Although a Trek reboot featuring a young Kirk and Spock had been rumored since the late 80s, the finished movie probably owes its existence to the success of Batman Begins four years ago more than anything else. Trek's approach is actually more like that of Bryan Singer's Superman Returns in that it pays heavy homage to the earlier films in the series (In this case, Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan, which pretty much all the later films have drawn inspiration from). Unlike Singer, though, Abrams was smart enough to give the picture a clear, new identity, and not let his hard-on for the earlier flicks get in the way of making this one appealing to people outside of the fan base. The story even has a built-in device which signals that this Star Trek exists in a slightly different reality than the other Trek incarnations. I like that: The Shatner adventures are what they are, but the sequels that are made to this movie will be doing their own thing, which is how it should be.
Chris Pine takes over the Shatner role, and he is fantastic. Cocky, self-assured, womanzing... he simply feels right at home in the part. Same goes for Karl Urban, who is excellent as Dr. McCoy and Zachary Quinto, who takes over the role of the younger Spock (also played by Leonard Nimoy, who reprises the character later in the film). All in all, the film is fantastically well-cast. I'm glad they went for actors they felt would do well in the parts, rather than people who resembled the originals (which was another open ditch that Superman Returns drove right into).
The bad guy in this one is Nero, a genetically enhanced Romulan from the future, who plans to dominate the galaxy by inventing a popular line of self-titled CD burning software, and forcing it come pre-installed on all Windows operating systems. It's sort of a thankless role, but Eric Bana fills it ably.
I won't say much else, but the one thing that bothered me a bit was that a lot of alien species that are encountered in the movie look really stupid. Consider an early scene where Pine tries to pick up the chick playing Uhura in a space bar. There's an alien sitting between them... I don't know if he was a dude in a mask or a computer creation or what, but whomever was responsible for him should be ashamed by how cheap and crappy the end result looks. This galaxy is populated by several other discount aliens as well, but fortunately the story works to the point where they're a mild distraction rather than anything else. And hey, the original series had a lot of crappy looking creatures as well, so maybe it's all part of the homage?
I've never been able to make it through an episode of the original Shatner series from the 60s. I've enjoyed episodes of the Next Generation and Deep Space Nine series whenever I've happened to catch them, but while I've tried to watch episodes of Voyager and Enterprise, the sheer dullness of those shows usually put me to sleep within minutes. The producer responsible for all those series (except the original) was Rick Berman. The man was a serious cancer on the franchise, and the fact that he has nothing to do with this movie whatsoever was my first indication that it had a fighting chance of being good.
Still, though, I think Paramount Pictures is thinking that this film will have more mass appeal than it probably will. Despite the fact that it is an entertaining, exciting, well-made movie, Star Trek is still on the marquee, and for many people I know, women especially, that's the deal-breaker. I don't know if it's the best movie in the series, but it's a good one, and that's more than you could say for any other Trek project in recent history.
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