While fans of both motor racing and of motion pictures are not altogether uncommon, movies about motor racing are not exactly famous for setting the box-office on fire. Some high-profile movies about motor racing that Hollywood has made in the last fifty or sixty years include John Frankenheimer's Grand Prix (1966), Lee Katzin's Le Mans (1971), Tony Scott's Days of Thunder (1990), Renny Harlin's Driven (2001), Adam McKay's Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby (2006), John Lasseter's Cars (2006) and the Wachowski's Speed Racer (2008). There are several other films about car racing, but seeings as how they mostly deal with underground street racing (e.g. The Fast and Furious movies) rather than the sanctioned kind that takes place on racetracks I don't think these are quite the same.
Now, of the movies listed, the last two non-Nascar-themed films, Speed Racer and Driven, were somewhat infamous box-office failures. The recent documentary based on the life and death of the late F1 racer Ayrton Senna, titled, appropriately enough Senna, made a splash among film critics and earned reasonably respectable numbers for a documentary, but again nothing that would send suits rushing to make movies about motor racing in general or F1 racing in particular. The closest grand prix racing has gotten to global box-office success, in fact, is the brief Monaco race scene in Iron Man 2.
My hat goes off, therefore, to veteran filmmaker Ron Howard (Frost/Nixon, The Da Vinci Code, A Beautiful Mind, Apollo 13 and a whole lot more) for daring to make the upcoming film Rush, the first full-on, dramatization of Formula One movie since Grand Prix. (For those who want to quibble this point, Driven was set in the now-defunct Champ Car racing series, which has since been folded into the US-based Indycar series, so it doesn't count).
Rush is the dramatization of the 1976 F1 season which was contested mainly by English playboy James Hunt of the McLaren team, played by Chris Hemsworth (Thor) and Niki Lauda of Scuderia Ferrari, played by Daniel Bruhl (Inglourious Basterds). The film is unique in that unlike Senna, it is a dramatization rather than a documentary, and unlike Grand Prix, it is based on an actual story rather than a fictional one.
This film has been in the pipeline for a while, so this is hardly breaking news, but one aspect of the ongoing production that I find discouraging, and which in fact spurred me to write, is how low-key everything seems to be right now. No one has bothered to throw together a Wikipedia page for the film, and announcements regarding production seem few and far between, though a month or two ago, Howard and his crew were pretty generous with shots of the sets, the cars to be used, and a few initial shots of Hemsworth in character. For racing geeks like me these little tantalizing tidbits only added to my agony considering that the film is at least a year away from commercial release, possibly even further away if they decide to release it in time for awards season, which would mean that those anxious to see this film as I am would be looking at a December 2013 release date.
Frustratingly enough, a tentpole movie based on a popular novel or comic book would, at this stage of principal photography, especially if directed by someone with Howard's profile, almost certainly have slavish coverage by media and fandom alike, and while I recognize that F1 fans and pop culture geeks are two entirely different species of enthusiast (although they can be equally opinionated and obnoxious on internet forums) I was at least hoping for some kind of waves among the fan community. Again, a Wikipedia page would be nice.
Howard himself has described Rush as an "independent" movie, and I'm not really sure what that means, but it seems to suggest that even though this movie will bear the popular Imagine films banner shared by Howard and his longtime co-producer Brian Grazer, it will be without much of the fanfare of his more heralded studio work. I certainly hope I'm wrong because right now the silence is deafening.
The worst part of this apparent lack of publicity is that as an action director who showed his chops in Apollo 13 and the firefighter action-thriller Backdraft, Howard is entirely capable of giving audiences the balls-to-the-wall action that any truly respectable movie about Formula One deserves, and therefore this movie should definitely be sold as an action film rather than as some art house drama.
The good news, though, is that with a pretty hot property in Hemsworth who, after the breakout success of Thor is lighting up the screen again in a month's time with Joss Whedon's The Avengers, the makers of Rush now have a solid selling point that they can use to get fannies in the seats. Working Title films is months away from having to market this movie but with any luck they'll make sure to capitalize on this when the time comes.
As a fan of motor racing and movies I would love to see Rush succeed and while I realize this movie has plenty of time to start generating buzz between now and its projected release date, part of me would like to at least see some effort to let the public at large know that this movie is being made and that production is coming along rather briskly. If this movie is as good as I hope it will be, I sincerely hope American audiences can get over their aversion to non-NASCAR racing movies and see it, and that global audiences, the kind that have made Formula One the world's most watched sport, can get in line at the cinemas as well.
Maybe auto racing just needs an extraordinary film in order to find a proper audience, and maybe Howard and his crew are the ones who can deliver.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Sunday, February 19, 2012
The Return of Alexander Payne: A Review of "The Descendants"
George Clooney seems to have made a career out of making unlikable people likable. Danny Ocean of the Ocean's films, for example, has repeatedly engaged in grand-scale larceny, Ryan Bingham of Up in the Air traveled around America telling people they were fired and giving seminars on why people should go through life without any emotional attachments to anyone, and in his latest movie, Alexander Payne's The Descendants, he plays Matt King, a Hawaii-based real-estate lawyer and sole trustee of an enormous tract property who is apparently so wrapped up in his work that he has pretty much neglected his family altogether. As a result, his wife Elizabeth (Patricia Hastie), gets hooked on motorcycles, speedboats, and dangerous living in general, his seventeen-year-old daughter Alex (Shailene Woodley) turns into a bit of a wild child partying it up while away at her expensive boarding schools, and his ten-year-old daughter Scottie (Amara Miller) has developed a bit of a potty mouth.
As the movie opens Matt has quite a bit to deal with; due to a newly-passed Hawaiian law against owning large tracts of land in perpetuity he and his family now have seven years to sell the 25,000 acres of untouched land that has been in their family since the 1860s. He and his cousins have been looking at buyers, but for some reason that is not explained it is Matt's vote as the sole trustee that truly counts. His wife has been involved in a boating accident and as a result is comatose. It isn't long before Elizabeth's doctor breaks the bad news to Matt; she isn't going to make it. It now falls on Matt to break the news to everyone else, like friends and family, and the first person he decides to tell is Alex, whom he and Scottie fetch from her expensive boarding school on the Hawaiian mainland. His strained relationship is a hard enough pill to swallow, but when he breaks the news to her she, in shock, hits him with a bombshell of her own; Elizabeth was having an affair. After twisting the arms of a couple of Elizabeth's friends, Matt learns that the affair was with a realtor named Brian Speer (Matthew Lillard), and upon learning where he'll be staying for the weekend he sets off in search of him, with his two daughters in tow. The journey proves to be a revealing one in ways not even Matt imagined.
As Matt deals with both impending loss, infidelity, and possibly the most important decision he will ever have to make, he discovers a lot about himself, his family and what he really values in life.
I was wondering aloud when Alexander Payne would make a movie again when I stumbled on this movie doing a Google search. This was before the slew of awards nominations came out; I was just happy that the writer/director of one of my all-time favorite movies, Sideways, was working again.
The film represents quite a departure for Payne stylistically; unlike the working-class schlubs played by Matthew Broderick (Election), Jack Nicholson (About Schmidt) and Paul Giamatti (Sideways) in Payne's last three films, Clooney's Matt King is an aristocrat through and through. The guy was basically born into a family fortune and is a highly successful lawyer to boot. There's not a whole lot of everyman anguish going around here, but Payne's and Clooney's strength lies is how they are able to portray King as a sympathetic character, one it is actually possible to pity in spite of everything he has going for him. There's a bit of sentimentality involved, but considering the abrupt nature of the events in the story it's a little natural that the characters, even the somewhat more cynical ones, are caught a bit off their guard.
Still, though the characters are removed from Payne's norm, his signature is all over this film, particularly in the way he is able to inject humor into even the most depressing of situations. And of course, Payne is able to get the very best out of his actors, whether it's the known ones or the somewhat obscure ones. A good example is the young actor who portrays Alex's is-he-or-isn't-he-her-boyfriend Sid (Nick Krause) a young man who isn't terribly bright or well-versed in social skills, and who is constant companion to Matt and his family for a good chunk of the film. I have no idea if this character is present in the book on which this film was based, but it seems that it is in him that Payne has found his ordinary schlub in this world of heirs and scions. That he has a kind of, um, homely look to him kind of balances out Clooney's leading-man looks and Alex's somewhat ethereal beauty. Veteran actors Robert Forster and Beau Bridges also make notable and memorable appearances as Elizabeth's father and Matt's cousin, respectively. Lillard's appearance is brief but significant, as is that of Judy Greer, who's always a welcome sight in my book.
The Descendants does not even come close to displacing Sideways as one of my all-time favorite movies, but it is definitely a very affecting film and certainly one of the best I've seen all year.
5/5
As the movie opens Matt has quite a bit to deal with; due to a newly-passed Hawaiian law against owning large tracts of land in perpetuity he and his family now have seven years to sell the 25,000 acres of untouched land that has been in their family since the 1860s. He and his cousins have been looking at buyers, but for some reason that is not explained it is Matt's vote as the sole trustee that truly counts. His wife has been involved in a boating accident and as a result is comatose. It isn't long before Elizabeth's doctor breaks the bad news to Matt; she isn't going to make it. It now falls on Matt to break the news to everyone else, like friends and family, and the first person he decides to tell is Alex, whom he and Scottie fetch from her expensive boarding school on the Hawaiian mainland. His strained relationship is a hard enough pill to swallow, but when he breaks the news to her she, in shock, hits him with a bombshell of her own; Elizabeth was having an affair. After twisting the arms of a couple of Elizabeth's friends, Matt learns that the affair was with a realtor named Brian Speer (Matthew Lillard), and upon learning where he'll be staying for the weekend he sets off in search of him, with his two daughters in tow. The journey proves to be a revealing one in ways not even Matt imagined.
As Matt deals with both impending loss, infidelity, and possibly the most important decision he will ever have to make, he discovers a lot about himself, his family and what he really values in life.
I was wondering aloud when Alexander Payne would make a movie again when I stumbled on this movie doing a Google search. This was before the slew of awards nominations came out; I was just happy that the writer/director of one of my all-time favorite movies, Sideways, was working again.
The film represents quite a departure for Payne stylistically; unlike the working-class schlubs played by Matthew Broderick (Election), Jack Nicholson (About Schmidt) and Paul Giamatti (Sideways) in Payne's last three films, Clooney's Matt King is an aristocrat through and through. The guy was basically born into a family fortune and is a highly successful lawyer to boot. There's not a whole lot of everyman anguish going around here, but Payne's and Clooney's strength lies is how they are able to portray King as a sympathetic character, one it is actually possible to pity in spite of everything he has going for him. There's a bit of sentimentality involved, but considering the abrupt nature of the events in the story it's a little natural that the characters, even the somewhat more cynical ones, are caught a bit off their guard.
Still, though the characters are removed from Payne's norm, his signature is all over this film, particularly in the way he is able to inject humor into even the most depressing of situations. And of course, Payne is able to get the very best out of his actors, whether it's the known ones or the somewhat obscure ones. A good example is the young actor who portrays Alex's is-he-or-isn't-he-her-boyfriend Sid (Nick Krause) a young man who isn't terribly bright or well-versed in social skills, and who is constant companion to Matt and his family for a good chunk of the film. I have no idea if this character is present in the book on which this film was based, but it seems that it is in him that Payne has found his ordinary schlub in this world of heirs and scions. That he has a kind of, um, homely look to him kind of balances out Clooney's leading-man looks and Alex's somewhat ethereal beauty. Veteran actors Robert Forster and Beau Bridges also make notable and memorable appearances as Elizabeth's father and Matt's cousin, respectively. Lillard's appearance is brief but significant, as is that of Judy Greer, who's always a welcome sight in my book.
The Descendants does not even come close to displacing Sideways as one of my all-time favorite movies, but it is definitely a very affecting film and certainly one of the best I've seen all year.
5/5
Sunday, February 12, 2012
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
Though his remake of the Swedish film The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo starts off with a stylish title sequence that looks like a somewhat darker, slightly more twisted version of the ones that have played in James Bond movies over the decades, the moment it ends director David Fincher tells a story that couldn't be more different from a Bond film if it tried.
After a brief prologue in which an old Swedish aristocrat named Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer) receives a gift from a mystery sender, the story begins with Swedish journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig) walking out of a courtroom after having been convicted of libel for a series of scathing articles about corrupt businessman Hans-Erik Wennestrom. Disgraced, Blomqvist is at a loss as to what to do next when he is contacted by Vanger's attorney. Blomqvist travels from Stockholm to the remote suburbuan island where Vanger and his entire clan live and Vanger regales him with the story of his niece Harriet, who disappeared from the island forty years earlier and who, Henrik strongly believes, was murdered. His suspects are none other than his own family members who live on the island with him. He hands Blomkvist all of the family records in his possession, including police reports and photographs on the scene, and persuades the down-and-out journalist with a considerable sum of money and, more importantly, dirt on Wennestrom. Blomkvist is skeptical that he will be able to figure out anything that Vanger was not, but enticed by the promise of redemption (and the money to replace that which lost upon paying damages as a result of the conviction) is too much for him to resist, and he sits down to work.
Running alongside this story is that of a young, talented hacker named Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara), who helped Vanger by performing a background check on Blomkvist, and who apparently does similarly shady work on a regular basis for the right price. By day, however, she is a ward of the state for somewhat gruesome reasons that are disclosed in the course of the film, a condition that has her often visiting her lawyer (Yorick Von Wageningen), somewhat unsavory character himself, for cash dole-outs, an arrangement which leads to a rather harrowing encounter.
As Blomkvist finds himself increasingly involved in the case, which was not quite as cut-and-dried as first it seemed, he meets the Vangers, including Martin (Stellan Skarsgard), Cecilia (Geraldine James), Anita (Joely Richardson) and Harald (Per Myrberg), whose reaction to him ranges from pleasant to downright hostile. All, of course, are suspects, but some more than others.
As Blomkvist gets hotter on the trail of his quarry, his path intersects with Lisbeth's as he learns of the background check Vanger's lawyer had performed on him. While angered by the fact that most of the information Lisbeth learned she did so by hacking into his computer, he decides that someone as resourceful as her could be useful to his investigation and she is onboard in fairly short order. Together, they unearth the truth, and as horrifying as it is, it isn't quite what they expected.
Now, as whodunits go the movie (and, not having read it, I imagine the novel as well) is not all that novel. The many revelations that unfold throughout the narrative are not all that far out of left field (even though there are some pretty startling ones) and the good guys/bad guys dynamic still feels like pretty standard stuff, and certainly not as unsettling as the chilling narrative of Fincher's breakout film Se7en, felt back in the day. What sets this film apart is its somewhat unconventional heroes, with Craig's bookish, useless-in-a-fight Blomkvist and Mara's tough-as-nails action heroine Salander making a somewhat unlikely but oddly compelling pair. Strong performances all around, especially Mara's and Plummer's also help smooth out some of the cliches, and help ground some of the film's more off-the-wall, somewhat disturbing moments (by way of a warning, just let me say for the benefit of the uninitiated that one of these moments involves anal rape). This movie may not have concluded with a gut-punch like Se7en did, but it has plenty of WTF moments of its own.
If there's a weak link here it's actually Craig, who unlike just about everyone in the cast did not even bother to put on an accent for his role, speaking in the Queen's English pretty much throughout the length of the movie. I'm no expert on Swedish accents but there was a sort of uniformity to the way everyone was speaking which Craig quite clearly disrupted. Whether it was Fincher's idea or whether it was because Craig was a diva, it simply disrupted the narrative flow. Not only that, but as goofy as the script dictated that he should be, Craig's body language never really convinced me that Blomkvist wouldn't be handy in a fight. Craig claims he put on a bit of weight for the role but he was nonetheless insanely lean (and I don't mean skinny) for a man who, by his own admission in the film describes himself as "old." I've actually liked Craig's acting in his other movies, Bond or otherwise, so I was somewhat disappointed by his underwhelming performance here, but I'm still willing to give him the benefit of the doubt; perhaps he was simply outshone by Mara, who is the undisputed star of the show.
It's funny how writers have described Mara as having upstaged Craig or having stolen the show considering that she does play the title character, and considering how Salander and Blomkvist are clearly co-equal characters in this film. It would perhaps be more apt to say that she lived up to the expectations of the director who took a chance on an unknown quantity such as her (though Fincher had already worked with her on a brief scene in last year's The Social Network, in which she had a small but pivotal role as Mark Zuckerberg's ex-girlfriend). I haven't read any of Stieg Larsson's Millennium books so I have no idea if Mara has stayed true to the character but I can say that, to my mind at least, she has created a character that is utterly transfixing, and not because of her many body piercings or gaunt face. There's a power to Lisbeth's silence as she contemplates her next move, whether it's to exact revenge on her lawyer or hack into someone's e-mail account for a client; as she stays quiet for much of her screen time it falls on Mara to convey that power purely with her face, something I imagine was challenging considering that Salander doesn't have discernible eyebrows. Also, I love it when actors play smart people really convincingly, whether it's by their line delivery or facial tics. Robert Downey, Jr. is one of my favorite examples and now I can add Mara to that list. Craig's Blomkvist is clever because the script tells us he should be, but Mara really sells Salander's mental acumen.
Of course, Fincher deserves full credit for extracting such performances out of his actors (Craig notwithstanding) and for keeping a two-and-a-half hour movie rather cohesive and rather dynamic, even when including some of the original narrative's more graphic portions which, in the hands of a lesser storyteller, could have somewhat derailed the proceedings.
If Fincher and company came back for the rest of the Millennium series, I can certainly see myself coming back for more, but I would appreciate it if Craig at least put on an accent next time.
4/5
After a brief prologue in which an old Swedish aristocrat named Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer) receives a gift from a mystery sender, the story begins with Swedish journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig) walking out of a courtroom after having been convicted of libel for a series of scathing articles about corrupt businessman Hans-Erik Wennestrom. Disgraced, Blomqvist is at a loss as to what to do next when he is contacted by Vanger's attorney. Blomqvist travels from Stockholm to the remote suburbuan island where Vanger and his entire clan live and Vanger regales him with the story of his niece Harriet, who disappeared from the island forty years earlier and who, Henrik strongly believes, was murdered. His suspects are none other than his own family members who live on the island with him. He hands Blomkvist all of the family records in his possession, including police reports and photographs on the scene, and persuades the down-and-out journalist with a considerable sum of money and, more importantly, dirt on Wennestrom. Blomkvist is skeptical that he will be able to figure out anything that Vanger was not, but enticed by the promise of redemption (and the money to replace that which lost upon paying damages as a result of the conviction) is too much for him to resist, and he sits down to work.
Running alongside this story is that of a young, talented hacker named Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara), who helped Vanger by performing a background check on Blomkvist, and who apparently does similarly shady work on a regular basis for the right price. By day, however, she is a ward of the state for somewhat gruesome reasons that are disclosed in the course of the film, a condition that has her often visiting her lawyer (Yorick Von Wageningen), somewhat unsavory character himself, for cash dole-outs, an arrangement which leads to a rather harrowing encounter.
As Blomkvist finds himself increasingly involved in the case, which was not quite as cut-and-dried as first it seemed, he meets the Vangers, including Martin (Stellan Skarsgard), Cecilia (Geraldine James), Anita (Joely Richardson) and Harald (Per Myrberg), whose reaction to him ranges from pleasant to downright hostile. All, of course, are suspects, but some more than others.
As Blomkvist gets hotter on the trail of his quarry, his path intersects with Lisbeth's as he learns of the background check Vanger's lawyer had performed on him. While angered by the fact that most of the information Lisbeth learned she did so by hacking into his computer, he decides that someone as resourceful as her could be useful to his investigation and she is onboard in fairly short order. Together, they unearth the truth, and as horrifying as it is, it isn't quite what they expected.
Now, as whodunits go the movie (and, not having read it, I imagine the novel as well) is not all that novel. The many revelations that unfold throughout the narrative are not all that far out of left field (even though there are some pretty startling ones) and the good guys/bad guys dynamic still feels like pretty standard stuff, and certainly not as unsettling as the chilling narrative of Fincher's breakout film Se7en, felt back in the day. What sets this film apart is its somewhat unconventional heroes, with Craig's bookish, useless-in-a-fight Blomkvist and Mara's tough-as-nails action heroine Salander making a somewhat unlikely but oddly compelling pair. Strong performances all around, especially Mara's and Plummer's also help smooth out some of the cliches, and help ground some of the film's more off-the-wall, somewhat disturbing moments (by way of a warning, just let me say for the benefit of the uninitiated that one of these moments involves anal rape). This movie may not have concluded with a gut-punch like Se7en did, but it has plenty of WTF moments of its own.
If there's a weak link here it's actually Craig, who unlike just about everyone in the cast did not even bother to put on an accent for his role, speaking in the Queen's English pretty much throughout the length of the movie. I'm no expert on Swedish accents but there was a sort of uniformity to the way everyone was speaking which Craig quite clearly disrupted. Whether it was Fincher's idea or whether it was because Craig was a diva, it simply disrupted the narrative flow. Not only that, but as goofy as the script dictated that he should be, Craig's body language never really convinced me that Blomkvist wouldn't be handy in a fight. Craig claims he put on a bit of weight for the role but he was nonetheless insanely lean (and I don't mean skinny) for a man who, by his own admission in the film describes himself as "old." I've actually liked Craig's acting in his other movies, Bond or otherwise, so I was somewhat disappointed by his underwhelming performance here, but I'm still willing to give him the benefit of the doubt; perhaps he was simply outshone by Mara, who is the undisputed star of the show.
It's funny how writers have described Mara as having upstaged Craig or having stolen the show considering that she does play the title character, and considering how Salander and Blomkvist are clearly co-equal characters in this film. It would perhaps be more apt to say that she lived up to the expectations of the director who took a chance on an unknown quantity such as her (though Fincher had already worked with her on a brief scene in last year's The Social Network, in which she had a small but pivotal role as Mark Zuckerberg's ex-girlfriend). I haven't read any of Stieg Larsson's Millennium books so I have no idea if Mara has stayed true to the character but I can say that, to my mind at least, she has created a character that is utterly transfixing, and not because of her many body piercings or gaunt face. There's a power to Lisbeth's silence as she contemplates her next move, whether it's to exact revenge on her lawyer or hack into someone's e-mail account for a client; as she stays quiet for much of her screen time it falls on Mara to convey that power purely with her face, something I imagine was challenging considering that Salander doesn't have discernible eyebrows. Also, I love it when actors play smart people really convincingly, whether it's by their line delivery or facial tics. Robert Downey, Jr. is one of my favorite examples and now I can add Mara to that list. Craig's Blomkvist is clever because the script tells us he should be, but Mara really sells Salander's mental acumen.
Of course, Fincher deserves full credit for extracting such performances out of his actors (Craig notwithstanding) and for keeping a two-and-a-half hour movie rather cohesive and rather dynamic, even when including some of the original narrative's more graphic portions which, in the hands of a lesser storyteller, could have somewhat derailed the proceedings.
If Fincher and company came back for the rest of the Millennium series, I can certainly see myself coming back for more, but I would appreciate it if Craig at least put on an accent next time.
4/5
Friday, February 10, 2012
"Marvel"
As I'm dead certain was the case for many, many other people, I was completely awestruck by the newest trailer for Joss Whedon's The Avengers. I am also dead certain that there are dozens of blogs, written and filmed, that have also taken the time to gush about the contents of the trailer and what they portend for the movie that will officially kick off the 2012 summer movie season in America.
For me, though, there was one thing about the minute-long trailer that grabbed me even more than the stunning visuals and the promise of wall-to-wall butt-kicking action. All movie trailers begin (or more or less begin) with the logo of the studio distributing the movie being advertised. Even when the actual maker of the film is different from the distributor, the distributor's logo still gets top billing, as it were. From 2008 to 2011, for example, Paramount Pictures and Universal Pictures distributed, between the two of them, five films that were produced entirely by Marvel studios, and the trailer (and actual movie) of each of those films featured, quite prominently the logo of either Paramount or Universal, followed by the Marvel banner.
During the new Avengers trailer, however, the only banner to be seen, despite the fact that Marvel is owned by the Walt Disney Company, which has its own film studio, was that of Marvel itself. This wasn't being marketed as a Paramount Picture, or a Walt Disney Picture, or a Columbia Picture, or as anything other than as a Marvel Picture.
This year it will have been 26 years since the Howard the Duck movie opened in theaters and proved to be such an abysmal failure with critics and audiences the world over that its stink clung to Marvel Comics for years. When Batman was breaking box-office records a few years later, Marvel characters were appearing in direct-to-video feces such as Albert Pyun's Captain America (1990) and Mark Goldblatt's The Punisher (1989). I was already a fanboy back then, and I was crushed, especially since it was back then that the Spider-Man movie experienced one false start after another.
How things change in a couple of decades; since Stephen Norrington's Blade adaptation knocked Saving Private Ryan off the top of the U.S. box-office in the summer of 1998, films based on Marvel Comic books have been going from strength to strength. Since then, twenty movies based on several different Marvel Comics characters have opened at number one at the U.S. box office, eighteen of them have gone on to gross more than $100 million each at the U.S. box office, seven of them have managed to gross more than $200 million each at the U.S. box office, and five of them have even managed to gross over $300 million each. Sure, rival comics company DC Comics still holds a number of individual records with 2008's The Dark Knight being the highest-grossing comic-book adaptation ever, but considering that over 30 years after Christopher Reeve took audiences' breath away in Richard Donner's Superman, DC and their parent Warner Brothers have been unable to sell films based on characters other than Superman and Batman, what Marvel have done in ten years is quite a feat.
Notably, these films aren't all purely commercial affairs made to pander to the lowest common denominator; several of the films based on Spider-Man, Iron Man and the X-Men are quite highly regarded among critics, for their narrative substance as well as their visual panache. In short, there has been a concerted effort not just to churn out movies based on Marvel Comics, but the best possible movies that could be based on Marvel Comics, with the best directors, cast and crew in place.
Audiences the world over have rewarded these efforts with their tickets, and as a result Marvel Studios has become a brand name unto itself. That parent company Disney would recognize the power of the brand to the extend that it would decline to stamp its own logo on The Avengers is compelling testimony to the faith they have in Marvel as a distinct product.
To someone who grew up grinding his teeth because of how bad movies like The Punisher were, the degree to which one of the biggest entertainment companies in the world respects and supports Marvel is a soothing balm, one that more than makes up for decades of silent suffering.
It's a good time to be a Marvel fan.
For me, though, there was one thing about the minute-long trailer that grabbed me even more than the stunning visuals and the promise of wall-to-wall butt-kicking action. All movie trailers begin (or more or less begin) with the logo of the studio distributing the movie being advertised. Even when the actual maker of the film is different from the distributor, the distributor's logo still gets top billing, as it were. From 2008 to 2011, for example, Paramount Pictures and Universal Pictures distributed, between the two of them, five films that were produced entirely by Marvel studios, and the trailer (and actual movie) of each of those films featured, quite prominently the logo of either Paramount or Universal, followed by the Marvel banner.
During the new Avengers trailer, however, the only banner to be seen, despite the fact that Marvel is owned by the Walt Disney Company, which has its own film studio, was that of Marvel itself. This wasn't being marketed as a Paramount Picture, or a Walt Disney Picture, or a Columbia Picture, or as anything other than as a Marvel Picture.
This year it will have been 26 years since the Howard the Duck movie opened in theaters and proved to be such an abysmal failure with critics and audiences the world over that its stink clung to Marvel Comics for years. When Batman was breaking box-office records a few years later, Marvel characters were appearing in direct-to-video feces such as Albert Pyun's Captain America (1990) and Mark Goldblatt's The Punisher (1989). I was already a fanboy back then, and I was crushed, especially since it was back then that the Spider-Man movie experienced one false start after another.
How things change in a couple of decades; since Stephen Norrington's Blade adaptation knocked Saving Private Ryan off the top of the U.S. box-office in the summer of 1998, films based on Marvel Comic books have been going from strength to strength. Since then, twenty movies based on several different Marvel Comics characters have opened at number one at the U.S. box office, eighteen of them have gone on to gross more than $100 million each at the U.S. box office, seven of them have managed to gross more than $200 million each at the U.S. box office, and five of them have even managed to gross over $300 million each. Sure, rival comics company DC Comics still holds a number of individual records with 2008's The Dark Knight being the highest-grossing comic-book adaptation ever, but considering that over 30 years after Christopher Reeve took audiences' breath away in Richard Donner's Superman, DC and their parent Warner Brothers have been unable to sell films based on characters other than Superman and Batman, what Marvel have done in ten years is quite a feat.
Notably, these films aren't all purely commercial affairs made to pander to the lowest common denominator; several of the films based on Spider-Man, Iron Man and the X-Men are quite highly regarded among critics, for their narrative substance as well as their visual panache. In short, there has been a concerted effort not just to churn out movies based on Marvel Comics, but the best possible movies that could be based on Marvel Comics, with the best directors, cast and crew in place.
Audiences the world over have rewarded these efforts with their tickets, and as a result Marvel Studios has become a brand name unto itself. That parent company Disney would recognize the power of the brand to the extend that it would decline to stamp its own logo on The Avengers is compelling testimony to the faith they have in Marvel as a distinct product.
To someone who grew up grinding his teeth because of how bad movies like The Punisher were, the degree to which one of the biggest entertainment companies in the world respects and supports Marvel is a soothing balm, one that more than makes up for decades of silent suffering.
It's a good time to be a Marvel fan.
"Found Footage"
The first truly popular "found footage" movie that I know of was 1999's The Blair Witch Project, though I imagine the genre is quite a bit older than that. For all of the criticism that has been leveled against that movie, I, for one, found it brilliant. I loved the marketing, which strongly suggested a documentary. I loved the fact that all of the actors were unknown, and I even loved their acting, which, while not exactly the kind that wins awards, was judiciously understated. Yes, I even loved the grainy, shaky camera that had a lot of viewers and critics complaining of nausea. It felt new, and fresh, and therefore exciting (and I say this as someone who doesn't even like horror movies). I saw it the same year I saw M. Night Shyamalan's breakout hit The Sixth Sense and was buoyed by how new it felt.
Over a decade later, I haven't seen a single of the several "found footage" films that have proliferated since then. I avoided Cloverfield, despite genuine curiosity as to what the heavily hyped Godzilla-like monster looked like, steered clear of Quarantine, all three Paranormal Activity movies, and have no interest in seeing the new film Chronicle, which combines "found footage" with another genre that's been done ad nauseam for the last two decades or so: superheroes, or at least people with super powers. There are a couple of other movies I've dodged as well, like one set in space, and the fact that their titles slip my mind completely should be testimony to how overused the theme is by now.
It's sad and a bit aggravating to think of how Hollywood often takes a good idea and milks it for all it's worth and then some.
"Found footage" movies are particularly irksome because of their slavish adherence to formula: unknown actors, shaky, sometimes blurry footage, minimal special effects and bleak endings. There is a logic to this, of course; if the people involved the story were alive, then one wouldn't have to find the footage, though I understand Chronicle bucks this trend a little bit. The thing is, all of this worked with Blair Witch because it was marketed as a documentary, and it was brilliant. Now it just feels like a hackneyed device for making horror movies on the cheap. And because they're so cheap, studios make their money back in a jiffy, especially if their film is as popular as the Paranormal Activity films.
I know that genre films are pretty much here to stay, and that if one or two of them fail, they basically let the genre lie dormant before making them again. Sword-and-sandals epics died sometime in the 60s only to be resurrected by the popularity of Ridley Scott's Gladiator and sustained by Zack Snyder's 300. And as far as comic book movies go, for every turkey in the vein of Green Lantern or Scott Pilgrim there's a Dark Knight or Iron Man movie just waiting to save the day.
In short, I recognize that "found footage" films are a distinct and legitimate genre and that it is inevitable that they will endure in one form or another. I do hope, though, that at some point someone will be able to at least find a revolutionary way to tell them, the way the makers of The Blair Witch Project did many years ago.
Over a decade later, I haven't seen a single of the several "found footage" films that have proliferated since then. I avoided Cloverfield, despite genuine curiosity as to what the heavily hyped Godzilla-like monster looked like, steered clear of Quarantine, all three Paranormal Activity movies, and have no interest in seeing the new film Chronicle, which combines "found footage" with another genre that's been done ad nauseam for the last two decades or so: superheroes, or at least people with super powers. There are a couple of other movies I've dodged as well, like one set in space, and the fact that their titles slip my mind completely should be testimony to how overused the theme is by now.
It's sad and a bit aggravating to think of how Hollywood often takes a good idea and milks it for all it's worth and then some.
"Found footage" movies are particularly irksome because of their slavish adherence to formula: unknown actors, shaky, sometimes blurry footage, minimal special effects and bleak endings. There is a logic to this, of course; if the people involved the story were alive, then one wouldn't have to find the footage, though I understand Chronicle bucks this trend a little bit. The thing is, all of this worked with Blair Witch because it was marketed as a documentary, and it was brilliant. Now it just feels like a hackneyed device for making horror movies on the cheap. And because they're so cheap, studios make their money back in a jiffy, especially if their film is as popular as the Paranormal Activity films.
I know that genre films are pretty much here to stay, and that if one or two of them fail, they basically let the genre lie dormant before making them again. Sword-and-sandals epics died sometime in the 60s only to be resurrected by the popularity of Ridley Scott's Gladiator and sustained by Zack Snyder's 300. And as far as comic book movies go, for every turkey in the vein of Green Lantern or Scott Pilgrim there's a Dark Knight or Iron Man movie just waiting to save the day.
In short, I recognize that "found footage" films are a distinct and legitimate genre and that it is inevitable that they will endure in one form or another. I do hope, though, that at some point someone will be able to at least find a revolutionary way to tell them, the way the makers of The Blair Witch Project did many years ago.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows
I cared little for the first Sherlock Holmes movie, finding Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law to be just about the only truly bright spots of the film. My review can be found here.
While director Guy Ritchie, his crew and his stars return for the sequel, Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows, with pretty much more of what they imagine audiences loved about the first film (a bona fide box-office smash with over half a billion dollars in global earnings) this time they've brought a far more coherent, if slightly cliched script with them, one which doesn't have the stink of Simon Kinberg all over it.
This story, written by Keiran and Michele Mulroney and very, VERY loosely based on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's 1893 novel The Final Problem, pits Holmes (Downey, Jr.) against his archnemesis, Professor James Moriarty (Jared Harris), amid brewing tension between France and Germany towards the end of the 19th century. A series of bombings in both countries being blamed on Anarchists is pushing both countries to the brink of war, with the whole world almost surely destined to follow suit.
Dr. John Watson (Jude Law) is about to get married to his longtime fiance Mary (Kelly Reilly) and pays a visit to his best man, Holmes, who is meant to throw him a bachelor party, but who ends up recruiting him for his latest investigation, in which he seeks to tie the current tension between France and Germany, and a series of murders of several people all together with Professor Moriarty as the common denominator. Holmes has intercepted a letter being handed from one agent of Moriarty's to another and endeavors to track down its intended recipient, a gypsy (Noomi Rapace). Their investigations naturally bring the pair afoul of Moriarty and before long they find themselves in a race against time to save Europe from war and themselves from Moriarty's terrible wrath.
As stories go, it's not the most original, even if it only borrowed a few details from The Final Problem. The idea of someone trying to profit from the carnage of world war is not exactly novel, and was in fact explored as recently as the utterly forgettable film adaptation of Alan Moore's The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Ritchie, however, profits from Mulroney's script, which sets up the characters, the conflicts, and the action more efficiently than the muddled effort of the original film did. Ritchie brings back plenty of the 300-style slow-mo action that he employed in the first film (and of which I am still not much of a fan), but at least I liked the choreography better this time around. Downey Jr. and Law are both extremely capable as action heroes, and Ritchie's fight scenes give RDJ in particular a chance to show off, even more than the first film, the Wing Chun Kung Fu that helped him kick his drug habit.
The good news here is that, as outlandish as a lot of the set pieces here are (such as the gunfight on a train), the action still feels more judiciously staged than that of the first film, and more organic to the overall story somehow. To think, everyone, from cinematographer Philippe Rousselot to film editor James Herbert to composer Hans Zimmer, has come back and that the only thing significantly changed here is the writing team. Well, one thing that significantly livens up the proceedings is the inclusion of Holmes' brother Mycroft, wonderfully portrayed by Stephen Fry, even if I had a really hard time looking at him butt naked.
The best part of the movie is that the banter and squabbling between Holmes and Watson, integral to my enjoyment of the first film, is very much intact here and brought to the next level even. Downey, Jr. and Law really do have a fantastic chemistry and I can't imagine any other two actors in the roles. It's fortunate that Sony didn't push through with the planned Sacha Baron Cohen-Will Ferrell pairing they had in mind for their decidedly more comedic adaptation; it just wouldn't have been as good.
4/5
While director Guy Ritchie, his crew and his stars return for the sequel, Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows, with pretty much more of what they imagine audiences loved about the first film (a bona fide box-office smash with over half a billion dollars in global earnings) this time they've brought a far more coherent, if slightly cliched script with them, one which doesn't have the stink of Simon Kinberg all over it.
This story, written by Keiran and Michele Mulroney and very, VERY loosely based on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's 1893 novel The Final Problem, pits Holmes (Downey, Jr.) against his archnemesis, Professor James Moriarty (Jared Harris), amid brewing tension between France and Germany towards the end of the 19th century. A series of bombings in both countries being blamed on Anarchists is pushing both countries to the brink of war, with the whole world almost surely destined to follow suit.
Dr. John Watson (Jude Law) is about to get married to his longtime fiance Mary (Kelly Reilly) and pays a visit to his best man, Holmes, who is meant to throw him a bachelor party, but who ends up recruiting him for his latest investigation, in which he seeks to tie the current tension between France and Germany, and a series of murders of several people all together with Professor Moriarty as the common denominator. Holmes has intercepted a letter being handed from one agent of Moriarty's to another and endeavors to track down its intended recipient, a gypsy (Noomi Rapace). Their investigations naturally bring the pair afoul of Moriarty and before long they find themselves in a race against time to save Europe from war and themselves from Moriarty's terrible wrath.
As stories go, it's not the most original, even if it only borrowed a few details from The Final Problem. The idea of someone trying to profit from the carnage of world war is not exactly novel, and was in fact explored as recently as the utterly forgettable film adaptation of Alan Moore's The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Ritchie, however, profits from Mulroney's script, which sets up the characters, the conflicts, and the action more efficiently than the muddled effort of the original film did. Ritchie brings back plenty of the 300-style slow-mo action that he employed in the first film (and of which I am still not much of a fan), but at least I liked the choreography better this time around. Downey Jr. and Law are both extremely capable as action heroes, and Ritchie's fight scenes give RDJ in particular a chance to show off, even more than the first film, the Wing Chun Kung Fu that helped him kick his drug habit.
The good news here is that, as outlandish as a lot of the set pieces here are (such as the gunfight on a train), the action still feels more judiciously staged than that of the first film, and more organic to the overall story somehow. To think, everyone, from cinematographer Philippe Rousselot to film editor James Herbert to composer Hans Zimmer, has come back and that the only thing significantly changed here is the writing team. Well, one thing that significantly livens up the proceedings is the inclusion of Holmes' brother Mycroft, wonderfully portrayed by Stephen Fry, even if I had a really hard time looking at him butt naked.
The best part of the movie is that the banter and squabbling between Holmes and Watson, integral to my enjoyment of the first film, is very much intact here and brought to the next level even. Downey, Jr. and Law really do have a fantastic chemistry and I can't imagine any other two actors in the roles. It's fortunate that Sony didn't push through with the planned Sacha Baron Cohen-Will Ferrell pairing they had in mind for their decidedly more comedic adaptation; it just wouldn't have been as good.
4/5
Monday, January 2, 2012
On Micromanaging and Disowning Movies
At the recently concluded Metro Manila Film Festival, Manila Kingpin: the Asiong Salonga story cleaned up winning 11 awards. While I'm generally not a fan of Filipino movies (as sad as this is to admit), the trailer for this one pretty interesting and may yet see this movie if I have time and money to spare. A potential dealbreaker, though (apart from the lack of time and money, of course) is the fact that the film's director, Tikoy Aguiluz, has publicly disowned the film, going to the extent of securing a court order to have his name removed from the film and all its marketing materials. It's not the most glowing endorsement, to say the least.
Not having seen the movie, much less what was supposedly excised from it, I can only imagine that whatever the studio did, it was to improve the film's chances at the box-office, which can and often does spell disaster for creative integrity and overall quality.
While I realize that creative butchery is hardly new in the film industry, local or otherwise, it nonetheless pains me to think that even during the Metro Manila film festival, when all foreign product is shut out of the movie theaters (with the exception of IMAX theaters) and where, once upon a time, Filipino filmmakers were allowed free rein to make the kind of movies they wanted to make, the desperation of studio suits to get fannies into the seats remains the primordial consideration.
The thing of it is, even assuming that Aguiluz was simply a hired gun rather than a visionary who conceived of the whole film, the studio that made it owed him some common courtesy. As a professional, I expect my clients to place their trust in me, to give me all of the facts I need to help them out, and to respect the work product that I give them. Of course, I owe them the best work I can possibly give, but my initial conference with them should give them an idea of what I'm capable of and what I can give them.
I can side with studios that fire directors before filming even begins; there's a reason why studios and directors sit down and talk, and that is to determine whether or not they have a common vision. To allow somebody to spent several months (or weeks, as is often the case here) of his life shooting and editing a movie only to yank the rug out from under him with unauthorized last minute reshoots and changes, though, is more than simple disrespect; it is a statement of intent from the producers or the suits that the director's vision is not theirs. It's basically the act of flipping the director the middle finger. Of course, probably the most extreme example of such a gesture is the way Warner Brothers threw out an ENTIRE film when they shelved Paul Schrader's Exorcist prequel (thereby denying Filipino-born Billy Crawford, who had a significant role in that film, his moment in the Hollywood spotlight) and had Renny Harlin shoot an all-new one, but Aguiluz's feelings of betrayal are nonetheless entirely legitimate.
I still don't know if I'll go and see Manila Kingpin, but if nothing else, if it turns out to be a total shitfest I'll bear in mind that it wasn't Tikoy Aguiluz's fault. I'll give him that much.
Not having seen the movie, much less what was supposedly excised from it, I can only imagine that whatever the studio did, it was to improve the film's chances at the box-office, which can and often does spell disaster for creative integrity and overall quality.
While I realize that creative butchery is hardly new in the film industry, local or otherwise, it nonetheless pains me to think that even during the Metro Manila film festival, when all foreign product is shut out of the movie theaters (with the exception of IMAX theaters) and where, once upon a time, Filipino filmmakers were allowed free rein to make the kind of movies they wanted to make, the desperation of studio suits to get fannies into the seats remains the primordial consideration.
The thing of it is, even assuming that Aguiluz was simply a hired gun rather than a visionary who conceived of the whole film, the studio that made it owed him some common courtesy. As a professional, I expect my clients to place their trust in me, to give me all of the facts I need to help them out, and to respect the work product that I give them. Of course, I owe them the best work I can possibly give, but my initial conference with them should give them an idea of what I'm capable of and what I can give them.
I can side with studios that fire directors before filming even begins; there's a reason why studios and directors sit down and talk, and that is to determine whether or not they have a common vision. To allow somebody to spent several months (or weeks, as is often the case here) of his life shooting and editing a movie only to yank the rug out from under him with unauthorized last minute reshoots and changes, though, is more than simple disrespect; it is a statement of intent from the producers or the suits that the director's vision is not theirs. It's basically the act of flipping the director the middle finger. Of course, probably the most extreme example of such a gesture is the way Warner Brothers threw out an ENTIRE film when they shelved Paul Schrader's Exorcist prequel (thereby denying Filipino-born Billy Crawford, who had a significant role in that film, his moment in the Hollywood spotlight) and had Renny Harlin shoot an all-new one, but Aguiluz's feelings of betrayal are nonetheless entirely legitimate.
I still don't know if I'll go and see Manila Kingpin, but if nothing else, if it turns out to be a total shitfest I'll bear in mind that it wasn't Tikoy Aguiluz's fault. I'll give him that much.
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