Remember When We Had Them All On The Run?

Moonrise Kingdom (Anderson, 2012)

I never went to summer camp. I don't know if that makes me an outlier to the quintessential American experience, but growing up I never spent a day of summer at a day camp. Looking back I'm not entirely sure what I missed, but the romantic notions that I have associated with what occurs at camp (thanks in no small part to Salute Your Shorts) have always left me wondering what would have changed if some of my summers were spent in this idealized wonderland of quasi-freedom. Now of course I'm sure no camp is anywhere close to how I imagine, but I think what draws me to it is the fictionalized allure of sorting out all the strange feelings of approaching maturity with boys and girls who were all on the precipice of adolescence. And it's this feeling, one that permeates throughout the whole of Wes Anderson's latest film Moonrise Kingdom, that makes my imaginary sanctuary a semi-tangible reality. This almost fairy tale that is underscored by so much painful reality, an escape that forces confrontation of truth.

Don't Give Up Now, Just A Little More Persistence

The Interrupters (James, 2011)

Over the summer I visited Chicago for a weekend. While I was aware that I had not actually even scratched the surface of what the city has to offer, after seeing a film like The Interrupters I almost feel as if I should have taken even more precautions as I walked a very standard pass through the city. Actually, as I exited the theater in Philadelphia and I walked back toward the train station to get home I almost felt a bit more paranoid than I should have given the time of day and relatively safe area of the city. But as I continued down the streets, looking all around and moving at a quicker clip than I normally would, I became cognizant of my actions. I was acting this way because of the documentary I had just watched.

Come On Pops, I Need A Little More Speed

Cars 2 (Lasseter and Lewis, 2011)

When I searched Cars 2 on imdb.com, it was the first result, but right below it was (somewhat inexplicably) Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, another sequel that was lambasted by critics who apparently felt scorned. Prior to the release of Pixar's latest film Cars 2, there was a brouhaha regarding the movie's existence as nothing more than a mindless cash grab. It seemed like far before the movie was even screened for critics that it was practically destined to be shredded by the critical community. Now in the past I have had my share of problems with Pixar, as it always seems to me that since Wall*E the studio has done its best to artificially manufacture emotion for the sake of seeming profound. This notion was incredibly clear both in Up's sectioned off sections of emotion that were jarringly inserted alongside its broad comedy, and the same could be said of many of the scenes in Toy Story 3. So I entered Cars 2, a sequel to what I consider one of the worst of a catalog of mostly lackluster entries, expecting to come out, as many other critics were, completely furious. But in the end, I was mostly left wondering one thing: why?

The Power In Your Voice. Your Rough Touch. You Keeping Care Of Me, Keeping Watch

The Tree of Life (Malick, 2011)

"Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? declare, if thou hast understanding."

And with that brief verse from the Book of Job, Terrence Malick's latest - Palme d'Or winning - film The Tree of Life begins to lay the foundation for a thorough examination of humanity. Moments later we have the primary female voice, via trademark Malickian voice over similar to Badlands and Days of Heaven, posit a thesis that carries throughout the film: during life humans must either walk the path of nature or the path of grace. As we are thrown in to a small 1950's American town the movie makes it blatantly apparent that it casts a wide net, takes on a scope as large as life itself. It really is a beautiful juxtaposition to open the film with, starting as wide and expansive and then keeping those ideas contained to an incredibly specific, focused area. Malick presents the quintessential American life, 1950's USA white, middle class suburbia, and reaches for an understanding of the universal. And from there the film only grows.

Escape Is A Paradox, Because The Childhood Is Locked In That Music Box

Lemonade Mouth (Riggen, 2011)

I have had a long standing love/hate relationship with many of the Disney Channel Original Movies; however, with the release of The Suite Life Movie earlier in the year and the recent release of the newest in the long line of High School Musical~esque films, Lemonade Mouth, I am finding fewer things to complain about in regard to the movies that the company is making for the small screen. Anchored by a startling strong cast of Disney's newer stars (Bridgit Mendler and Adam Hicks) and some new comers (Blake Michael and Naomi Scott) who make up the rag-tag titular band, the movie has a solid foundation to build some momentum. So does the latest Disney Channel Original Movie ever elevate beyond the strong foundations and become a film worth the time of the many people who would readily dismiss it? That question is, unfortunately, a bit difficult to answer.

The premise of Lemonade Mouth is fairly simply: a group of high school kids form a band to speak out against an overly oppressive principal. They are led by for Wizards of Waverly Place guest star Hayley Kiyoko in the role of Stella. We'll probably learn some sort of life afirming lesson by the end of the film too. You know where this plot is going. However, the way it gets there is notably more mature than many of the other Disney films that have preceded it. There are illusions to jailed fathers, broken homes, and fathers wedding girls half their age or something. Most of these are only touched on briefly, and I fault the film for that, but that they would even be brought up without being there simply to manufacture emotion, but rather to add to the characters and their relationships, is encouraging from a film that could very easily be a mash up of Camp Rock and High School Musical.

And as you might expect from a mashup of those two franchises, the true pull of the film should be the music. Here's the thing, I have watched all of the HSM movies and both of the Camp Rock movies. It is tough to compete with a combination of Demi Lovato and the Jonas Brothers, and the high points of the Camp Rock soundtracks are better than the best of the songs from Lemonade Mouth, but this film probably has the most consistently enjoyable collection of songs from any of the other films. And actually, what I love about Lemonade Mouth is how the songs reveal themselves during the film. They are able to be showcased naturally, as organic parts of the plot. There are not the bombastic, jarring breaks of a High School Musical, nor is there the artificially manufactured superstar led camp of a Camp Rock. Much like Camp Rock or Once, Lemonade Mouth is a musical, but the music happens in a believable context, and unlike Camp Rocke high school environment is much more (Baudrillard be damned!) believable. And the film benefits because of that, the immediacy of the relationships between the band mates is felt more strongly. These years are fleeting, there is no time to let this dream slip away.

Lemonade Mouth is not an in depth look at the high school experience, and despite some solid camera work and a striking color palliate used visually in the film the movie is not a technical wonder either. But the five actors that hold the band together do turn in incredibly solid, and usually more so, performances that showcase a natural chemistry between all of them. Combined with a well rounded and incredibly enjoyable soundtrack, Lemonade Mouth is a movie with more than enough charm, and even some deeper topics, to stand on its own as a quality diversion from the more serious elements of cinema.

Netflix Rating: ***/*****

Rich

Comments are welcome and, for anyone with a literary mind, I encourage checking out my poetry blog filled with all original works for your reading pleasure.

Also I am on the old Twitter thing so I guess you can follow me at twitter.com/FLYmeatwad.

And The Ancient Empty Street's Too Dead For Dreaming

Toy Story 3 (Unkrich, 2010)

With Toy Story 3 Pixar has attempted to return to an incredibly successful universe years later and capture the same charm that made the originals so endearing to so many viewers. Flashes of Star Wars. But will Pixar be able to follow in Lucas's footsteps and effectively deepen their world and characters while improving in nearly every way over the original material? With years of mediocre films clogging up their studio in the past decade, yielding only two and a half films of any substantial value, I was skeptical that the studio would have success. While I certainly am not surprised with the results, I found myself a bit surprised at how well specific aspects of the film are handled.

First let us talk about the positives, my friends. We shall strip away all of the fat: throw the shoehorned in jokes away, toss aside the sight gags, forget about all the action and adventure, and focus squarely on the idea of transition. Whether transitioning from life at home to life alone, high school to college, teenager to adult, any change and the gray area between our own prescribed blacks and whites. Early on in the film we see Andy sit back in his chair and peer around his room for what will be one of the last times in his life, and he lets out a sigh. In this sigh the film captures more power than any of the dialogue can hope to ever encompass. Similarly, Woody's pleas with the toys to return to Andy after a mix up has them feeling cast aside, we see both humans and non-humans struggling to reconcile their old life with an unformed future. Later in the film an incredibly touching moment is shared between Andy and his mother. These brief glimpses at honest emotion, conveyed excellently in context, do what successful works of art accomplish: hit on aspects of humanity without feeling artificial. And for the most part, surprisingly, these moments are spread out instead of lumped together to simply 'get' the audience as they were in Up, or far too few as they were in Wall*E. The final scene goes on far too long and becomes a bit too manipulative, but the outline of honest humanity still shines through, at least mostly.

However, Toy Story 3 is hampered by all the fat around the edges, despite the film's attempts to conceal the weaker points that seemingly weave their way in to keep audiences entertained as a standard action/adventure film in the vein of Up and Wall*E's dreadful final 'chase' acts. Essentially, Toy Story 3 is Toy Story 2 except better paced. Remember the not so funny part in Toy Story 2 where the two Buzz Lightyears got mixed up and the one acted like Buzz did in at the start of the first film? That aspect is mostly back again, except now Buzz is back to acting like a 'real' spaceman while speaking Spanish! And dancing! Zany! And the whole lovable, elderly, fat guy who turns out to be controlling, manipulative, and downright despicable, remember that bit? Well that plot line is recycled in the form of Lotso, a bear abandoned by his former owner, making a nice foil for Jesse. Speaking of Jesse, recall how intolerable she was in the previous film? Well she is better in this one because her role is incredibly downsized. Since the film cuts between so many different areas so quickly, and has the characters constantly moving forward, Jesse, and really very few of the toys, ever get to take center stage, which results in some fairly underdeveloped characters. At one point Woody encounters three new toys, all of which seemed interesting, but these characters are on the screen for such a short time they feel more like joke devices than actual characters, resulting in really simplistic interpretations of these individuals. The same can be said of the figures in Lotso's 'family.'

The simplicity is the largest problem that I have with Toy Story. When you have such a complex and layered concept at the center of the film I imagine that the characters would not be so black and white. But with the exception of the giant baby, and I guess Ken, the film is packed with stagnant characters. None of the toys make any major changes, even Woody's supposed realization that they are better together with someone else than separated while he stays with Andy, is complicated by the way Woody essentially becomes a figure comparable to Lotso. But the film pays no attention to this idea, the toys are happy, so Woody is right.This aspect is one of many small bits of logic that break apart when one looks very deeply into the film. How does Lotso know the telephone is in league with Woody and gang? How does that kite get blown so far up in the sky? How can the aliens operate a crane? Why does Lotso need a cane if the spa area can fix even the oldest toys? Why can he run so quickly at the end? They just happen.

A number of the aspects of Toy Story 3 just happen, seemingly because that is what is supposed to happen. So we get an excruciatingly long heist sequence at the end. We have a confrontation with Lotso, an inexplicable grasp of Woody's leg to keep the 'action' sequence going. We also have a Dreamworks~esque back and forth with Barbie and Ken, complete with pitch perfect musical cues and slow motion that would fit right in during the lowest of Shrek films. And a costume changing montage that, if I recall correctly, makes use of "Kung-Fu Fighting." The only thing missing was "Barbie Girl" at some point. The back and forths are not funny, actually there are only a few occasions of legitimate humor in the film. What makes the movie tolerable, and oddly what prevents it from being very good, is how quickly it moves the plot forward and how little time we spend with each group of characters. Barbie and Ken are painful to watch, but these bits are fine because they do not go on incredibly long. Same with any bits involving Jesse. Sadly that means the portions with Andy and Woody are also short, but better these good parts be brief than the bad parts be too long.

As a refinement of Toy Story 2, Toy Story 3 works on just about every level. As a successor to Toy Story, this film falls incredibly short. As an entry in Pixar's catalog, Toy Story 3 is, like many of the studio's films, a middle of the road feature that contains flashes of enjoyment and even brilliance, but is held back by so many paint by numbers story telling techniques, irritating characters, and flat jokes that these features seem lesser by comparison. However, the greatest achievement of Toy Story 3 is the restraint in how emotion is handled. My largest problem with the first ten minutes of Up the obvious manipulation going on in that portion of the film, a trait that only became more apparent as the film tried to integrate emotion further in the run time, and the same can be said of Wall*E and even parts of the masterful Ratatouille. When Toy Story 3 attempts to create a specific mood it works so well, it is just a shame the rest of the film has to exist.

PS: The short before the film was pretty good, and watching Night and Day pal around was enjoyable. The short film genre works for Pixar so well because it allows them to take an incredibly simplistic concept, and the ultimate message of this film certainly is painfully obvious early on and incredibly generic, but through they can play with visuals in such inventive ways and break out that message in an interesting enough way that it makes the simplicity forgivable. I prefer more experimental short films because they allow for much more complex and ambiguous ideas to be explored while engaging me on a cerebral level, but for the opposite end of the spectrum, Day & Night does a pretty great job at being entertaining.

Comments are encouraged and, for anyone with a literary mind, I encourage checking out my poetry blog filled with all original works for your reading pleasure.

Also I am on the old Twitter thing so I guess you can follow me at twitter.com/FLYmeatwad.

All Roads Lead Toward The Same Blocked Intersection

Kick-Ass (Vaughn, 2010)

Christopher Nolan. David Fincher. Quentin Tarantino. Zach Snyder. And now, I suppose, Matthew Vaughn is a name to add to the list of directors who can be charged of crafting films that ooze style while skimping on the substance. While I would debate the grounds of many of these claims, as most of the directors have crafted at least one film that would serve as an effective counter point, whether found in the strong subtext present in Fincher's Fight Club, the sprawling narrative in Snyder's take on Watchmen, and just about all of Tarantino's library, (though I suppose that does leave Nolan out in the cold), Vaughn's latest effort (following up his 2007 sophomore film Stardust) may justify such a claim being leveled at the filmmaker. Though I haven't seen either of his two previous pictures, meaning I shall concentrate mostly on my reaction to the man's latest creation, Kick-Ass, an adaptation of Mark Millar's series of graphic novels by the same name, Vaughn has created an interestingly diverse set of films. But sometimes I need more than interesting to keep me going, or maybe I don't, or maybe Vaughn just doesn't want me to know what I want at all.

If the director does, in fact, want to keep me feeling off kilter throughout the entire film he has successfully accomplished his initial mission because, for all intents and purposes, Kick-Ass is a messy and inconsistent film in just about every regard. The score ranges from overbearing to needlessly quiet, yet this pairs with such a delightfully scattershot soundtrack that features a hodgepodge of styles and sounds with each cue seeming almost too perfect for the current scene, practically mirroring the construction of the film as a whole. The three act structure is followed incredibly strictly, so much so that, unlike just about every other successful film based on a graphic novel, no twists or turns at all occur in the narrative. It remains entertaining, but devolves incredibly quickly into predictability, which also mimics the camera tricks that Vaughn employs throughout the film where, during each and every tense scene, we are expected to wait until the a character is placed in a deadly situation before, at the very last second, the tables turn. For a film that is so intent on taking risks with its content the tale is told in a mighty generic manner, and I know I don't go for generic. Even stylized generic, so despite using all those wonderful long shots and top down angles, and starting off by using comic book cues such as text boxes reading "Meanwhile" and other descriptors before eventually abandoning that idea completely, I don't know if the minimal technical flourishes are enough to keep the film afloat by my traditional standards.

But this is an actor's film damn it! Or maybe not. Sure Nicolas Cage follows up one of 2009's best performances in The Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans with a smash up performance that succeeds where the film tends to stumble, blending comedy seamlessly with action. And even Chloe Moretz does a decent job of that as well, but I got the feeling while watching her that the character, the disturbingly ruthless preteen Hit-Girl who cares just as much about dropping the C-Nuke as she cares about slicing apart one of the many nameless goons she confronts in the film, is more interesting than her performance. I guess between this and her annoying turn in (500) Days of Summer that means I have even more reason to be concerned about the upcoming remake of Let the Right One In. Anyhow, what seemed so odd was not the actors in the film, but the fact that none of the characters ever seemed fully developed, and nearly all the secondary characters were reduced to caricatures nearly by default. Thankfully the smaller lead roles were anchored by two of the best performances in the film. I do not know if the public as a whole is still unable to separate Christopher Mintz-Plasse from his McLovin character, but I have little problem doing so, and he brings such a presence to the screen each time he is on camera that believing him in the role of Red Mist is a simple task. And then there is Clark 'Bar' Duke as one of Kick-Ass's best friends, allowing for him to generate the funniest moments in the film. Yeah he's doing a similar shtick to what he did in Clark and Michael, but he pulls off that undeservedly cocky, overly hip, self aware comedy that it doesn't matter. Speaking of Michael Cera this is the part where I start to bash lead actor Aaron Johnson. Johnson is supposed to be playing this socially outcast high school student who doesn't communicate well with the opposite sex, yet we still need to be able to identify with him and root for him for the film to work. However, what we get are a few fleeting glimpses of the types of characters that Cera and Eisenberg have perfected with none of the chemistry that Cera could bring to those Clark Duke and Mintz-Plasse scenes. Hell, even Anton Yelchin could have worked better than the emotional sinkhole that is Aaron Johnson.

But now I'll take a page out of Vaughn's book and switch this shit up at the drop of a dime without any warning or sense.

Up until this point I feel as if I have been deceptively negative, perhaps betraying just how much I enjoyed this film. It seems ever since Avatar that action scenes are becoming much more tolerable as traditional editing is used to keep pace while directors intelligently color code each side to make these fast paced sequences simple to follow. And boy damn are the action scenes on display here a rush and a half, they are, for lack of a better term, the definition of bad ass. In fact, some may say they kick ass (how can I pass something like that up?). But even the action scenes are off kilter as Vaughn crafts the world in such a way that the viewer is constantly questioning the purpose of this gratuitous violence. Early on in the film he establishes these make shift superheroes as incredibly human and capable of dying, yet like a lamb to the slaughter this realism is sacrificed without explanation when it would enhance the cool factor. And don't get me wrong, it does, and maybe the desensitization that goes along with the violence is part of the satire, but for that to be the case it would make more sense to not include those scenes that show the gruesomeness of violence, and, really, watching a young girl get punched in the face or gun down a ton of different guys is going to get a reaction no matter how desensitized we may be.

And with that I ask, among the separate realms of action and comedy, in a film that seems to go out of its way to not establish a consistent tone, for a movie that succeeds so well at entertaining but is so stiff and calculated that outside of the shock any traces of heart are severely minimalized, does Kick-Ass have a point? Perhaps not, but maybe that's okay? At one point the film seems ready to begin exploring the idea of escapism and the futility of this exercise, and then all the pieces are set to look into the creation of celebrity in relation to the physical toll this takes on individuals, but none of these ideas are followed through in any substantial manner. But in not probing these ideas am I being asked to simply watch, to be a hog in the mud and revel in the ultra-violence while not looking any deeper into this film? I cannot do that. The obvious point of comparison for this film, I assume, is Watchmen, but while that film suffered from having too much going on outside of the action sequences Kick-Ass is concerned with accomplishing too little outside of its action. Yes, it appears to be a love letter to the comic book lover. Yes the dialogue is fun, and the film is a blast, but it is also just so problematic and personally distressful. I take no offense to the content, in fact I wish that more films would take the risks that Kick-Ass takes, but with those risks there needs to be a purpose outside of simple entertainment.

This reflection has been more rambling than I had intended, but I firmly believe that, as a writer, my obligation is to best convey my experience and response to a piece of culture, and without getting into spoilers that add a few more specifics to my reaction I think that is what I have done here. Films like Kick-Ass only serve to further negate the meaning of rating systems. At the end what I have learned is that the film is fun, it is stylish, and despite all its faults key members of the cast increase the enjoyment to be had. But those inconsistencies, the lack of purpose, the absence of themes outside of the most basic type, I should be ripping this film apart, not considering seeing it again on DVD. Either way, a film like this one does, in retrospect, make me appreciate something like Speed Racer all the more, a stylized tent pole film (though the origins of Vaughn's film hardly qualify as traditional studio fare as it effectively straddles the line between perceptions of independent and mainstream cinema) that blends the humor with the action, that gives purpose to the events, that may not be perfect but provides all the fun of an event movie with the cerebral simulation of more 'serious' films. Or even a Sin City that uses hyper violence and a unique visual style that weaves seamlessly with a consistent and intriguing narrative. I'm going in circles now. Kick-Ass is fantastic and fun. Kick-Ass is terrible and pointless. Kick-Ass is a thrill ride that challenges conventions while being cliche ridden and trite. The film is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma. Is it August yet? I need Scott Pilgrim vs. the World to show me what a great director can do with similar material.

B or 3.656247572394862375832657932

Comments are welcome and, for anyone with a literary mind, I encourage checking out my poetry blog filled with all original works for your reading pleasure.

Also I am on the old Twitter thing so I guess you can follow me at twitter.com/FLYmeatwad.

Your Head Will Collapse When There's Nothing In It, And You'll Ask Yourself: Where Is My Mind?

Where The Wild Things Are (Jonze, 2009)

The PG rating tacked on to Spike Jonze's latest film, Where The Wild Things Are, may make you think that this film is intended for children, but I can almost assure you that more adults will enjoy this movie than children will, which is to be expected when you have a director who has only handled adult films focusing on the philosophical plight of man. I am mostly unfamiliar with Jonze's previous work, though I have seen and rather enjoyed Adaptation, and Where The Wild Things Are was set to be my first Jonze film on the big screen. Since I had the pleasure of seeing the film in IMAX the screen certainly was large, perhaps even as large as the Wild Things that young Max encounters. Much like my lack of knowledge about most of Jonze's career with a camera, I have also never read the book this film is based on, so I went in without the years upon years of nostaliga that most viewers will likely enter with. Also, I basically thought the trailers were unimpressive. Still, I was hoping that Jonze could produce one of the year's best films, and I knew if there was a director capable of elevating what could easily have become a simple morality tale for families, Spike Jonze is that man.

In many ways Jonze does deliver a film that is so much more than a simple film made for family friendly audiences, we have a movie that is essentially a trip into the psyche of a vulnerable child as he apparently attempts to come to terms with all of the turmoil in his life. Jonze does, for better and worse, capture the idea of childhood with this film, in each and every regard. Unfortunately, that freedom also shines through in the narrative, or in many cases the lack thereof. The majority of the film when we spend time where the wild things are, the viewer is given only minor references to what portion of Max these creatures are supposed to represent or what the point of him being here is, other than to make things looks pretty for the viewer. But the film is a character study, we don't really need a plot, right? Right. Sadly, the character we are studying is developing constantly, but he is doing it through six or seven lesser portions that simply do not stand alone as compelling enough characters to warrant all the conflict and emotion that Jonze forces on the viewer. In many ways this film is like Antichrist, you know the symbolism is going on because the film pushes the viewer in that direction, but in neither film are we given enough to completely let these symbols exist naturally in the film, but with Antichrist the entire film is overtly allegorical, where as this film is all over the place because we need to believe the reality of the reality as well as the reality of the fantasy in this world. Perhaps I am over-analyzing the film, but I cannot help but I do feel safe in asserting that the film is more rewarding to contemplate afterward than it is to watch during. But that contemplation is the mark of a great film, I am so torn.

You know what else is the mark of a great film? Technical prowess. Jonze has this prowess in spades. Everything about the film up to the point where Max first encounters the wild things is absolutely brilliant. Not only are all of the actors near flawless, a trait that does carry throughout the entire film, but the camera is used so intimately that the intended emotion of each scene practically oozes from the screen. Pair that with the wonderful use soundtrack, the fantastic editing, and the intense art direction and we could have one fantastic film. Actually, all of those things mostly do run throughout the entire film. Why do I not love this film more? Anyhow, Jonze miraculously loses all of this emotion as the film continues, only capturing flashes of the initial greatness about ever 15 minutes or so. Thankfully the film is God damned beautiful, so despite the narrative and character development not being too engaging during the run the visuals are more than enough to keep the film afloat.

Minor spoilers in this next paragraph I suppose, but really it's only the first 15 minutes...

But I think things need to stay more than just afloat, in such a personal yet apparently universal film each and every viewer needs to be able to both sympathize and judge Max all at once. Perhaps that is what is missing in the middle. Early on, when we are still in the real world, everything Max does and each different scene not only reveals more and more about his character, though hardly in overt manners, while conveying different emotions. So much so that I imagine each and every viewer can, to some extent or another, connect with at least one of the things that Max experiences. Rebellion, isolation, joy, freedom, imagination, everything. Jonze displays it all, and he does it wonderfully. Hell, the film nearly had me in tears, which would have easily been a record, about fifteen minutes in when Max is lying on the ground under his mother's desk and she stresses out over work. I spent most of my adolescence in a single parent household and I completely connected with what Jonze had on display, but as a viewer I was also able to see the tragic beauty. And then we get the gut-wrenching scene where Max's mother has her boyfriend over. The way events transpire, it's devastatingly brilliant. But then that emotion disappears and we are given a pretty film to look at for a while.

Much like a child telling a story, the narrative offers basic symbols and moments of genius, but it just does not give enough during the film to truly showcase its brilliance. Yet after the credits rolled it's all mostly there, it just takes looking closer at the subtext. It's so confusing. I really do not know where I stand on the film, whether I love it, dislike it, respect it, admire it, adore it. I do not know. I honestly considered giving the film two ratings, but I can't do that, mostly because scores are meaningless. I'm certain this is not one of my favorite films of the year, yet aside from my top two or three there are no other films I have seen this year that I am more eager to revisit. I'll have to see if I can find someone to go with in the near future and hopefully get a fresh interpretation, maybe that will help me figure things out more. Let's just say it's pretty good, and pretty bad, and pretty fantastic.

B+/A- or 4.23234273847325462371895

We Were Once A Fairytale (Jonze, 2009)

Wow! A double dose of 2009 Spike Jonze! While I am still mostly confused about the Wild Things, I do know this short film is the best Spike Jonze directed film of 2009. Starring Kanye West in a role that is kind of like what I imagine John Malkovich did in the Jonze film about him, we experience a brief night in the club where Kanye struggles with identity, fame, rejection, and perhaps even the human condition. Jonze continues to show why he is magical with a camera, and he even gets a fairly decent performance out of Mr. West, though I have to wonder if Kanye always sounds so odd when he talks/yells. The film is a bit difficult to hear sometimes because it never drops the club atmosphere, so loud music is always playing, but that is nothing more than a minor complaint. While it is probably safe to give away the ending since Jonze has the film up online and it is only 11 minutes long, I will just talk about it in a round about manner. It's a fantastic ending point that, if I am interpreting it anywhere close to correct, and that may not be since the analytical portion of my brain had a good deal of trouble even formulating a decent idea of what was happening, essentially is delightfully bleak yet strikingly lovely. A great effort from Jonze and an excellent follow up to his messy Where The Wild Things Are.

A-/B+ or 4.278721462356239563279

And just like that I have hit 60 2009 films watched so far this year! I have roughly 4 months to hit 100, which I think is completely doable.

Feel free to watch We Were Once A Fairytale right here

Comments are welcome and, for anyone with a literary mind, I encourage checking out my poetry blog filled with all original works for your reading pleasure.

Also I am on the old Twitter thing so I guess you can follow me at twitter.com/FLYmeatwad.

Is It Much Too Much To Ask, Not To Hide Behind The Mask?

Trick 'r Treat (Dougherty, 2009)

I do not take well to horror films, a problem I hope to rectify this month with my "Keep the Lights On! (Generic Horror Marathon Extravaganza!) Marathon of Monsters, Mayhem, and Mental Provocation Marathon." Unofficially this started with Antichrist, so I guess we can say it has a 2009 theme for now given this entry and the forthcoming Drag Me To Hell one. I'm not into labels...man. And in many ways neither is Trick 'r Treat (boom! What a lead in!), walking a fine line between horror and comedy that few films in recent memory have tread so capably. But let us not confuse this for a film like Shaun of the Dead or a Scary Movie, Trick 'r Treat is definitely a horror film, it just has a good deal more fun with the genre than what I imagine many more recent serious scary movies do, which is probably what makes it such a gateway film for this marathon. It is not necessary scary, it gets slightly formulaic and predictable, but it's still a consistently enjoyable and interesting ride.

A uniform narrative, at least in the sense that it all does occur in one area on a single night, the film follows four different groups of people on Halloween night. All of the stories flow normally, the cuts are not awkward or anything like that, and they are strung together by the ominous Sam character, a young child with a burlap sack or something similar covering his head. Visually it works wonders and keeps a mysterious figure at the center of what is already a collective of incredibly compelling tales. The performances are nothing incredibly special, I suppose Anna Paquin is the big name but she has never done much for me and she only continues to underwhelm in this film, and the direction did not have me stunned, but the film is edited excellently and really wonderfully paced and constructed, so I have no qualms about the technical aspects of the film at all. In fact, the film has a visual style that practically drips the essence of Halloween. Unlike any film I have ever seen before, and admittedly they are few and far between, no movie conveys all the atmosphere that comes with this time of year. It's absolutely intoxicating in a way that the all time great holiday movies are, and in many ways this film has the substance to exist as a great film even outside of the Halloween time frame. I suppose anyway since it just released and I will have to revisit it in a few months to verify this claim.

Many aspects of this film really reminded me of some childhood memories magnified and readjusted for a person who, like myself, grew up with these television programs and has missed similar thrills that cater to a more mature demographic. The film captures the thrill of a show like Are You Afraid of the Dark?, the excitement of a movie like Hocus Pocus, and the twists and turns that R.L. Stein delivered in his Goosebumps books and television series. Having the film tap into all of these different entertainment forms, while still making everything modern, occasionally bloody, usually frightening, and R rated in terms of language and what not, makes for a film that not only hits all the right notes in regard to nostalgic purposes, but also acts as a great thrill ride that does not let up at all during the 90 minute or so run. I am honestly stunned that such a high quality film was kept out of theaters and saved for a direct to DVD release, it truly is impressive that such a film could slip through the cracks because it seems to be able to appeal to anyone at all, even a non horror fan like myself. Who does not like to have a little fun?

So, unlike Antichrist, Trick 'r Treat is a much more traditional horror film, or at least that is what I have gathered. Plus the way it embraces Halloween is absolutely stunning, though I have probably fawned over that enough over the course of this review. Sure the film is not flawless in the sense that it has insane thematic depth, character development, or even interesting direction, but it also does little to nothing wrong aside from getting a little predictable toward the end. The film is a good time, it's a unique tale, it has a central symbol and idea that are both advanced incredibly well, and it really is a film that should enter the holiday cannon. The film is not scary, so those looking to be frightened should probably look elsewhere, but everyone really should go out of their way to check out this film, preferably before or on Halloween, because it truly is one Hell of a ride.

Result: Lights Off!

B+/A- or 4.182397214723104723

Comments are welcome and, for anyone with a literary mind, I encourage checking out my poetry blog filled with all original works for your reading pleasure.

Also I am on the old Twitter thing so I guess you can follow me at twitter.com/FLYmeatwad.

I'm Staying In The Hotel, Not The Motel Or The Holi-Day Inn

Hotel for Dogs (Freudenthal, 2009)

Coming out of Nickelodeon Movie Studios, I didn't know they were still around, is one of what I like to pretend was one of 2009's most well received blockbusters. That little film, a quiet period piece about the struggles of life, financial strain, and existence in general goes by the seemingly deceptive title Hotel for Dogs. Drawing its influence from the Italian Neo-Realist movement, specifically Umberto D., Hotel for Dogs waxes poetic about all of life's pressing issues and, drawing influence from last year's Wendy and Lucy, makes no sacrifice in regard to emotional power. The fact that the public was able to pick up on such a noticeable masterpiece is pretty much unheard of and quite heartwarming. Or at least that's what I like to pretend.

In actuality, Hotel for Dogs is pretty standard stuff at its heart, but the film puts on enough of a show to keep things both fresh and interesting enough to sustain its abnormally lengthy run time of almost two hours. Things start off interestingly enough as the viewer is greeted by a constructed plastic town full of whimsy and the 1950's American Spirit, or something of the sort, before introducing us to Friday as he prowls the streets of some pseudo-city area for some food. Shortly after we are introduced to both Andi and Bruce, Friday's owners and the film's protagonists. Marking these opening sequences is some pretty nice direction, mixing in a few pretty neat shots and sequences, but ultimately nothing of huge interest. All of these things set up nicely for the film as a whole because on the whole the film proves to be a mostly mixed bag of entertainment in spite of the standard technical pieces.

Of course there is one major exception to this, and that is in the design and integration of the devices used inside of the Hotel. Most of the inventions that the film has Bruce come up with are really fun bits of whimsy inserted into the film to give it a nice atmosphere without being too over the top or unrealistic. Sure there is a suspension of belief needed to buy into all of the things that are happening on screen, but the film asks the viewer to do this from the beginning and, for the most part, earns this suspension while still keeping things contained in this world through the whole thing instead of breaking it when it could be convenient for the narrative.

Of course this is not the film's only triumph. While the narrative as a whole is pretty predictable, and when the film takes advantages of connecting plot to larger themes things become pretty obvious, the construction is mostly admirable and the film rarely wastes any time or has any points that feel like stalls in the narrative process. Also the integration of the 'we are orphans and the dogs are like us' metaphor is nice considering that the film is geared toward a younger audience, not to mention that it, mostly, avoids being overly direct or dumbed down to the point where it insults older viewers. There is an extended monologue at the end where things start to get a bit preachy, but it mostly works in context of the film despite almost serving as a literal soapbox. Unfortunately the film does not really integrate humor as well as it could, especially considering that Jake T. Austin has already shown an ability to be incredibly funny when given the correct material. Sure the film has Troy Gentile turn in a strikingly funny performance as Mark, but on the whole the film could have been a good deal funnier than the final product would imply.

Speaking of Jake T. Austin, I was really looking forward to seeing how he would do in a full length film after watching him develop from a slightly tolerable throw away character to one of the most interesting cast members in Disney's Wizards of Waverly Place series, but I was very disappointed with his part in the film. He always felt like he was trying a bit too hard to be the reserved, sheltered, and conflicted younger brother type. He has a few flashes that are really promising, but the role does not offer much and Austin, sadly, does not do much to make it how own, but he is still growing and he shows promise as an actor. Of course it does not help that he is constantly alongside Emma Roberts. I had jokingly said that, after seeing her in Lymelife, that she has potential to top both my Lead and Supporting Actress lists for the year so far, but little did I know that it would turn out to be almost true. In a sea of near mediocrity, Roberts turns in a marvelous performance that must cement her as the most interesting young actress currently working. The range she shows is impressive, but the believability and personality she brings to the Andi character is endearing and inspired. Most of the supporting cast is really good, but Roberts is clearly the standout star and, while I would really need to think of other actresses to know where she falls in my rankings, she certainly is pretty damn impressive here.

All in all Hotel for Dogs, despite being nothing revolutionary, possesses enough charm, and more than enough dogs, to have kept me both entertained and enjoying my time with the film. Sure, I tend to give most films that involve canines a pass, but here the film is well constructed enough to really succeed and sustain itself without feeling overly cheesy or ever mind numbingly stupid. Highlighted by Emma Roberts' second incredible performance of the year, Hotel for Dogs is a nice bit of escapist cinema with enough earned emotional pull to lift it from decent to good territory. It's a film I would not mind watching again some time in the future and really had my surprised with how much I had eventually enjoyed the film. The film also has a pretty funny Reservoir Dogs homage in it too, which is pictured above.

B/B- or 3.46248136745721357891369576

Comments are welcome and, for anyone with a literary mind, I encourage checking out my poetry blog filled with all original works for your reading pleasure.

Also I am on the old Twitter thing so I guess you can follow me at twitter.com/FLYmeatwad.

Down Here Where The Heat's So Fine, I'll Drink To Your Health And You Drink To Mine

Ratcatcher (Ramsay, 1999)

My excitement to watch Ratcatcher, a look at a youth's life during the Glasgow Garbage Strike, was enormously high because I had heard it compared to David Gordon Green's wonderful film George Washington. After finishing Ratcatcher I found the film to be a bit more similar to 2006's film This Is England than it was to Green's masterpiece, but unlike This Is England I am positive that I had an overwhelmingly positive response to Lynne Ramsay's film. The film is constructed beautifully and provides an insightful look at the construction of a child's identity without ever hitting the audience over the head with explanations for why James is the way he is, the boy just exists and grows in response to the people he is connected with and the time in which he lives, nothing more, nothing less. It is with this strength that the film carries itself during the hour and a half run time and really establishes itself as one of the greatest films ever made.

The film immediately starts out by showcasing Ramsay's directorial prowess, a trait that never lets up once during the film. The movie overflows with stunning shots and sequences that high light the atmosphere at the time and showcase some of the most spectacular cinematography I have ever witnessed in a film. At the start of the film, for about the first twenty minutes or so, it is actually very fortunate that the camera is used in such a wondrous manner because without such technical prowess I think it may have easy to lose interest in the hurried narrative; however, the reason the interest in the story is not there immediately is likely a result of how Ramsay opens the film and what expectations she works into the viewer's mind. When a film opens with a character we are generally led to believe that this figure will be the central character, and then Ramsay flips that entire notion on its head. It's a really impressive technique that adds to the film's meticulous construction in just about every aspect. Of course the film picks up immensely after the twenty minute mark when James goes on his first bus ride, so the prowess then begins to elevate the film instead of simply sustaining the movie.

Of course all the technical accomplishment a film may possess can easily be undermined by poor acting, but thankfully all of the actors in the film are really great and handle their roles with similar care to how Ramsay handles the script and the camera. In the role of James, William Eadie turns in an incredibly heartfelt performance that completely captures the mentality of a youth both in and out of place. He shows a spectacular range and is pretty phenomenal. Tommy Flanagan is pretty great as the Da, but of the secondary characters the obvious stand out comes in the form of Lynne Ramsay Jr. in the role of Anne Marie. She hits all of her notes pitch perfectly and always makes the audience want to hate her, but she possess some sort of mysterious charm that really prevents that, until the film begins to close and we see just how perfectly she played the part and how much respect she seemingly had for her character. It's mighty impressive that such a young girl can turn in such a powerful performance.

While it seems that this review is a bit shorter than my other looks at films, admittedly it is pretty rushed, I believe the reason for this is because the film covers so much ground that I am fairly sure that I was unable to completely grasp everything on a first viewing so I figured I would just discuss the highlights until I inevitably revisit the movie in a few years. I would also like to discuss, not at length or give any specifics, the fact that I'm pretty sure the film was designed specifically with my interests in mind. Never has another film gotten an ending so right nor with such mastery, beauty, and naturalism. It really is fantastic. Ratcatcher really nails just about everything in terms of quality and value while managing to turn in a compelling and complex film that takes great care to give the viewer just enough information to make the experience unique and rewarding. Sure it's no George Washington, the movies focus on two completely different topics and George Washington really covers much more territory, but who cares? Ratcatcher is still one Hell of a film that I can fully endorse.

A or 4.39239473285716843591263501236508

Comments are welcome and, for anyone with a literary mind, I encourage checking out my poetry blog filled with all original works for your reading pleasure.

Also I am on the old Twitter thing so I guess you can follow me at twitter.com/FLYmeatwad.