directed by Pete Docter and Ronnie del Carmen
written by Pete Docter, Meg LeFauve, Josh Cooley and Ronnie del Carmen
In this day and age of rampant video piracy, film distributors have decided to make it a point to release their "tentpole" pictures in Asia and other territories ahead of their release in the United States. Because of this, we viewers in the Philippines get films like The Avengers: Age of Ultron, Jurassic World, and Minions at the same time as, if not weeks ahead of, our counterparts in America.
This is not the case, for some reason, for films which are made by Walt Disney Pictures' Pixar Studios, whose films are invariably released here as late as two months after their release not only in the United States but in other parts of the world as well.This was the case with Inside Out, which, by the time it came out here almost two weeks ago, had grossed over $600 million in other parts of the world.
Well, the good news is that it was completely worth the wait.
The film is about five colleagues, Joy (Amy Poehler), Sadness (Phyllis Smith), Disgust (Mindy Kaling), Anger (Lewis Black) and Fear (Bill Hader), who have a very interesting job: they are the emotions of a little girl named Riley (Katlyn Dias). They live inside her mind and basically form her reactions to everything that ever happens to her in her life. Joy is the lead emotion in view of the fact that Riley lives a generally happy life in Minnesota. She loves her family, she has great friends, she's crazy about hockey, and life in general. Joy, for her part, loves her job, which mainly consists of pressing buttons on a console that causes Riley to react happily to situations in her life, and storing the memories of the events, depicted as glowing crystal orbs the size of bowling balls (to Joy and her colleagues), in the enormous landscape of Riley's mind. They transport these "bowling balls" via vacuum tubes. Each memory is the color of the emotion that triggered the reaction to the event, and most of them are yellow, the color of Joy. There are some exceptions, like the blue memories represented by Sadness' reactions, green memories triggered by reactions of Disgust, red memories triggered by Anger, and the purple memories triggered by Fear. Joy, however, is the dominant emotion, as she should be in a child's life. There are memories, and then there are core memories, which are necessary to making Riley...Riley. The core memories, in fact, power massive floating structures in Riley's mind that represent aspects of her personality. In the beginning of the film, all of the core memories are joyful ones.
Things change, however, when Riley's entire family moves from Minnesota, where she's lived all of her eleven years, to San Francisco.
Joy and her colleagues go about their business, but she notices that sadness has suddenly started touching yellow memories...and turning them blue. It's mildly irksome at first, but when sadness starts handling core memories, Joy intervenes, and the two of them, along with all the core memories, end up getting sucked into the vacuum tubes and sent out to where all of Riley's memories go, which is a massive city. They find themselves "miles" away from the control room, and they have to get there fast, or the floating islands that core memories power will fall into the chasm of Riley's forgotten memories, and Riley as everyone knows her will truly be lost. Time is not on their side as one by one the islands begin to collapse, but they may have an unexpected ally in Riley's one-time imaginary friend Bing Bong (Richard Kind) who has spent the last years wandering around the corridors of Riley's memories.
Meanwhile, back in central control, Disgust, Anger and Fear are basically running Riley's mind, and they're in a bit of a panic.
All of this, of course, is happening on the inside of Riley. On the outside, she is reacting to her friends moving on from her, to being the new kid at school, and to her dad being preoccupied with his business deals. The combination of Fear, Anger and Disgust dominating her mind is a dangerous mix, and looking back on her fond memories of Minnesota, Riley contemplates doing something drastic.
There is one word that sums of up what I think of this film: SUBLIME.
The notion of anthropomorphic representations of people's emotions isn't something Pixar came up with but I dare anyone to claim that anyone else has executed the concept with even a fraction of the inventiveness and meticulously-realized detail that Pixar have with this film.
I'll admit I wasn't particularly sold on the concept by the initial trailer, which was why this film truly blew me away; it took me quite by surprise. Pete Docter's and Ronnie del Carmen's vision of the inside of a person's mind, even that of a child, is utterly breathtaking, but Pixar being Pixar, they certainly weren't about to stop with a few stunning visuals. Sure, these emotions are all characters in a story, but each of them is a functional part of somebody's brain, and it became pretty clear that Pixar did their homework on how the brain works. Interviewing psychologists is one thing, though, but translating all of this information into story concepts that kids and their parents would embrace was quite another, and Pixar's triumph here was their visualization of the various concepts of the mind like abstract reasoning, subconsciousness, and a personal favorite of mine, dreams.
Of course, all of this was wrapped up in some generous helpings of humor, helped along by the sterling work of the voice cast headed by Poehler and Davis. Hader has long been a personal favorite of mine, and during the laugh-out-loud "dream" sequence he did not disappoint. I was also moved by Dias, the young actress who plays Riley, who was given the unenviable task of acting out all the emotions that had her mental avatars in a tizzy. Sure, this was just voice acting, and Pixar's CG did much of the heavy lifting, but Dias really went a long way towards helping me feel her character's inner turmoil. This movie was, for me particularly extraordinary because just about everything that happens outside of Riley's head is really rather mundane, and the fact that Pixar managed to depict almost everyday mental processes into some larger than life just really shows just how far ahead of the curve they are in terms of sheer creativity. Relative to their competitors, they really are operating on another level of storytelling.
Like the very best of Pixar's offerings, this movie has at its center a beating heart. For me it's right up there with Finding Nemo and the deeply moving three minute love story of Carl and Ellie in Up. Surprisingly, this isn't about fathers and sons or husbands and wives but about understanding one's self, and in a way learning selflessness. As strange as this may sound, this is actually a good movie to show at office team buildings or to teams before a big game; the egomaniacs in either of those groups will quite likely get the reference.
Sure, Illumination Studios may have raked in the big bucks with the broad humor and undeniable appeal of the Minions, but with this Pixar has just reasserted that it is STILL the absolute best in the animation business. At a time when studios are churning sequel after remake after reboot, it is utterly gratifying to know that something this fresh can still succeed in the marketplace.
10/10
Saturday, September 5, 2015
Saturday, August 22, 2015
A Review of Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation
directed by Christopher McQuarrie
written by Drew Pearce and Christopher McQuarrie
Mission Impossible movies, like James Bond movies, are relatively simple affairs: there's a mysterious, megalomaniacal threat somewhere in the world, and Tom Cruise's Ethan Hunt accompanied sometimes by his Impossible Mission Force, at other times just his buddy Luther, played by Ving Rhames, must hunt in down and neutralize it. The fun, of course, is in watching Ethan and company do their thing, particularly considering that it invariably involves high-speed chases, death-defying stunts and bone-crunching fight sequences. To wax cliche, it's about the journey, and not the destination.
That said, while the MI series has had its ups and downs over the course of five films (and counting), I personally feel the series received a real creative shot in the arm when J.J. Abrams (Star Trek, Star Wars Episode VII) took over the directing duties around ten years ago and produced the next couple of films, including this one. There's a bit more cleverness to the way Hunt and his friends take on the bad guys and the introduction of supporting characters like Simon Pegg's Benjie Dunn (who has quite a lot of screen time here) has really made the movies more entertaining overall.
In this particular installment, Hunt and his team take on the mysterious Syndicate, a collection of secret agents from all over the world who have either been declared missing or dead, who are apparently in the business of destroying governments. Led by the ruthless former MI6 agent Solomon Lane (Sean Harris), the Syndicate seems to perpetually be one step ahead of Hunt and his IMF, who are also facing the problem of having their budget cut off as Central Intelligence Agency Director Alan Hunley (Alec Baldwin) seems intent on demolishing them during Congressional hearings. Fortunately, however, Hunt and his team may have an unexpected ally in double-agent Ilsa (Rebecca Ferguson) who may or may not be an MI6 agent also fighting the Syndicate. Time, however, is running out.
Truth be told, after the inventive and entertaining Edge of Tomorrow which was basically Groundhog Day but with a sci-fi/action flavor, I'm vaguely disappointed that Cruise went back to his comfort zone, though to be fair he did try a number of different kinds of films between this film and his last MI film. The good news is that as well-worn franchises go, Cruise and his crew have done a great job of keeping things fresh with some tightly-filmed action sequences, the highlights of which include a really good motorbike chase scene and a death defying underwater sequence.
Cruise's Ethan Hunt and Pegg's Benjie Dunn see the most action here, though Jeremy Renner's William Brandt and Ving Rhames' Luther Stickell have crucial roles as well. I guess Renner was taking a break from all the action he saw in Avengers: Age of Ultron in which his character Hawkeye had a dramatically expanded role; he doesn't throw a single punch in this film.
Cruise, on the other hand, goes all out with his stunts here, and considering he's dangled from a cliff connected to only a thin wire in Mission Impossible 2 and did the same thing, except from Burj Khalifa in Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol, that's saying a lot. The very first sequence, featured prominently in the trailers and other marketing materials, has him clinging to the side of a flying plane. He apparently has ambitions of being the Jackie Chan of Hollywood.
McQuarrie, probably best known as the Oscar-winning screenwriter of Bryan Singer's The Usual Suspects, has only directed two films previous to this one, Way of the Gun, and Jack Reacher (which also starred Cruise), both of which had a bit of a crime noir sensibility, which makes it even more impressive that he was able to handle this high octane affair with such panache.
The thing about this movie is that it really is a case of not fixing something that isn't broken. It's a good thing in that it makes for an entertaining film viewing experience, but Cruise and crew don't really reinvent the wheel here, so there really isn't much by way of original thrills either. It feels that way after a while, too.
Still, this was good fun.
7.7/10
written by Drew Pearce and Christopher McQuarrie
Mission Impossible movies, like James Bond movies, are relatively simple affairs: there's a mysterious, megalomaniacal threat somewhere in the world, and Tom Cruise's Ethan Hunt accompanied sometimes by his Impossible Mission Force, at other times just his buddy Luther, played by Ving Rhames, must hunt in down and neutralize it. The fun, of course, is in watching Ethan and company do their thing, particularly considering that it invariably involves high-speed chases, death-defying stunts and bone-crunching fight sequences. To wax cliche, it's about the journey, and not the destination.
That said, while the MI series has had its ups and downs over the course of five films (and counting), I personally feel the series received a real creative shot in the arm when J.J. Abrams (Star Trek, Star Wars Episode VII) took over the directing duties around ten years ago and produced the next couple of films, including this one. There's a bit more cleverness to the way Hunt and his friends take on the bad guys and the introduction of supporting characters like Simon Pegg's Benjie Dunn (who has quite a lot of screen time here) has really made the movies more entertaining overall.
In this particular installment, Hunt and his team take on the mysterious Syndicate, a collection of secret agents from all over the world who have either been declared missing or dead, who are apparently in the business of destroying governments. Led by the ruthless former MI6 agent Solomon Lane (Sean Harris), the Syndicate seems to perpetually be one step ahead of Hunt and his IMF, who are also facing the problem of having their budget cut off as Central Intelligence Agency Director Alan Hunley (Alec Baldwin) seems intent on demolishing them during Congressional hearings. Fortunately, however, Hunt and his team may have an unexpected ally in double-agent Ilsa (Rebecca Ferguson) who may or may not be an MI6 agent also fighting the Syndicate. Time, however, is running out.
Truth be told, after the inventive and entertaining Edge of Tomorrow which was basically Groundhog Day but with a sci-fi/action flavor, I'm vaguely disappointed that Cruise went back to his comfort zone, though to be fair he did try a number of different kinds of films between this film and his last MI film. The good news is that as well-worn franchises go, Cruise and his crew have done a great job of keeping things fresh with some tightly-filmed action sequences, the highlights of which include a really good motorbike chase scene and a death defying underwater sequence.
Cruise's Ethan Hunt and Pegg's Benjie Dunn see the most action here, though Jeremy Renner's William Brandt and Ving Rhames' Luther Stickell have crucial roles as well. I guess Renner was taking a break from all the action he saw in Avengers: Age of Ultron in which his character Hawkeye had a dramatically expanded role; he doesn't throw a single punch in this film.
Cruise, on the other hand, goes all out with his stunts here, and considering he's dangled from a cliff connected to only a thin wire in Mission Impossible 2 and did the same thing, except from Burj Khalifa in Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol, that's saying a lot. The very first sequence, featured prominently in the trailers and other marketing materials, has him clinging to the side of a flying plane. He apparently has ambitions of being the Jackie Chan of Hollywood.
McQuarrie, probably best known as the Oscar-winning screenwriter of Bryan Singer's The Usual Suspects, has only directed two films previous to this one, Way of the Gun, and Jack Reacher (which also starred Cruise), both of which had a bit of a crime noir sensibility, which makes it even more impressive that he was able to handle this high octane affair with such panache.
The thing about this movie is that it really is a case of not fixing something that isn't broken. It's a good thing in that it makes for an entertaining film viewing experience, but Cruise and crew don't really reinvent the wheel here, so there really isn't much by way of original thrills either. It feels that way after a while, too.
Still, this was good fun.
7.7/10
Sunday, August 9, 2015
Jake Does a Jake: A Review of Southpaw
directed by Antoine Fuqua
written by Kurt Sutter
This title is a bit of a misnomer; the only similarity between Jake LaMotta, the real-life man whom Robert De Niro portrayed in the 1980 film Raging Bull, and Billy Hope, the fictional man whom Jake Gyllenhaal plays in the current film Southpaw, is that both of them are professional boxers. It was worth drawing the parallel (apart from the identical names) because it seems to me that the only reason this movie was made was for Gyllenhaal to take a shot at the Oscar glory De Niro's performance thirty-five years ago earned him.
Southpaw is the story of Hope, an undefeated prize fighter from Hell's Kitchen who starts the film on top of the world, having fought his way to the very top of the heap. Having accompanied him from his humble origins to the top is his lovely wife Maureen (Rachel McAdams) with whom he has a lovely daughter Leila (Oona Lawrence), and the two of them are his whole world. Tragedy strikes, however, when the arrogant up-and-comer Miguel Escobar (Miguel Lopez), who yearns for a title successfully goads Hope into a fistfight (not the sanctioned kind) and the subsequent melee between the two fighters' entourages results in a horrifying death. Billy loses everything; his title, his money and even his daughter when the government deems him an unfit parent, and as a result he must fight his way back from the brink. Fortunately, he might have a little help in washed-out former boxer Tick Wills (Forest Whitaker), but it will take more than the bravado and brute strength on which he has gotten by so far. Billy will now have to learn how to box as he has never boxed before.
To be perfectly honest, I watched this movie for only two reasons: I was trying to sit out a terrible traffic jam and I wanted to hear one of the final film scores of my favorite film composer, the late James Horner. Not only was Horner's music among his less remarkable work, there was nothing else about the movie that was particularly compelling, either before, during or after the viewing.
As a boxing film, Southpaw commits the usual (and understandable) Hollywood sin of depicting modern-day boxing as simple brawling, with the fighters exchanging blows like their jaws and bodies were made of granite instead of trying to actually duck. This is actually made a plot point later in the movie, but it still doesn't make the depiction of fighting any less silly. Still, if they were going for utter hard-edged realism, audiences would most likely be treated to several minutes of clinches, ducks and backpedaling, which is what they saw during the last fight featuring a real-life undefeated boxer. Still, whether the film was justified or not in taking liberties with the reality of boxing, it ultimately brought nothing new to the table.
As human drama, the film is serviceable, and Gyllenhaal and Whitaker really sell the heck out of their characters' arcs, both as individuals and as an onscreen duo. Particularly impressive for me was Gyllenhaal's rapport with Lawrence, who played his daughter. The thing was, again, this wasn't anything that hadn't already been done before. The father seeking to be reunited with his daughter was done as recently as Ant Man, and quite frankly, that was a lot more enjoyable to watch.
The film isn't a complete waste of time; Fuqua certainly knows how to create atmosphere, and quite honestly I'd like to see what he could do with a less cliched script and a more compelling story, as the potential is clearly there. Also, I marveled at the makeup artists who not only did a good job of turning Gyllenhaal's face into hamburger, but in showing how boxing injuries to the eyes actually look after they've just started to heal. I doubt they'll win any award, but I think they deserve a shout-out.
Still, this was a movie I could just have easily waited to see at home, and had it not been for a traffic jam and the prospect of listening to one of James Horner's final works, I would have.
6/10
written by Kurt Sutter
This title is a bit of a misnomer; the only similarity between Jake LaMotta, the real-life man whom Robert De Niro portrayed in the 1980 film Raging Bull, and Billy Hope, the fictional man whom Jake Gyllenhaal plays in the current film Southpaw, is that both of them are professional boxers. It was worth drawing the parallel (apart from the identical names) because it seems to me that the only reason this movie was made was for Gyllenhaal to take a shot at the Oscar glory De Niro's performance thirty-five years ago earned him.
Southpaw is the story of Hope, an undefeated prize fighter from Hell's Kitchen who starts the film on top of the world, having fought his way to the very top of the heap. Having accompanied him from his humble origins to the top is his lovely wife Maureen (Rachel McAdams) with whom he has a lovely daughter Leila (Oona Lawrence), and the two of them are his whole world. Tragedy strikes, however, when the arrogant up-and-comer Miguel Escobar (Miguel Lopez), who yearns for a title successfully goads Hope into a fistfight (not the sanctioned kind) and the subsequent melee between the two fighters' entourages results in a horrifying death. Billy loses everything; his title, his money and even his daughter when the government deems him an unfit parent, and as a result he must fight his way back from the brink. Fortunately, he might have a little help in washed-out former boxer Tick Wills (Forest Whitaker), but it will take more than the bravado and brute strength on which he has gotten by so far. Billy will now have to learn how to box as he has never boxed before.
To be perfectly honest, I watched this movie for only two reasons: I was trying to sit out a terrible traffic jam and I wanted to hear one of the final film scores of my favorite film composer, the late James Horner. Not only was Horner's music among his less remarkable work, there was nothing else about the movie that was particularly compelling, either before, during or after the viewing.
As a boxing film, Southpaw commits the usual (and understandable) Hollywood sin of depicting modern-day boxing as simple brawling, with the fighters exchanging blows like their jaws and bodies were made of granite instead of trying to actually duck. This is actually made a plot point later in the movie, but it still doesn't make the depiction of fighting any less silly. Still, if they were going for utter hard-edged realism, audiences would most likely be treated to several minutes of clinches, ducks and backpedaling, which is what they saw during the last fight featuring a real-life undefeated boxer. Still, whether the film was justified or not in taking liberties with the reality of boxing, it ultimately brought nothing new to the table.
As human drama, the film is serviceable, and Gyllenhaal and Whitaker really sell the heck out of their characters' arcs, both as individuals and as an onscreen duo. Particularly impressive for me was Gyllenhaal's rapport with Lawrence, who played his daughter. The thing was, again, this wasn't anything that hadn't already been done before. The father seeking to be reunited with his daughter was done as recently as Ant Man, and quite frankly, that was a lot more enjoyable to watch.
The film isn't a complete waste of time; Fuqua certainly knows how to create atmosphere, and quite honestly I'd like to see what he could do with a less cliched script and a more compelling story, as the potential is clearly there. Also, I marveled at the makeup artists who not only did a good job of turning Gyllenhaal's face into hamburger, but in showing how boxing injuries to the eyes actually look after they've just started to heal. I doubt they'll win any award, but I think they deserve a shout-out.
Still, this was a movie I could just have easily waited to see at home, and had it not been for a traffic jam and the prospect of listening to one of James Horner's final works, I would have.
6/10
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
A Superhero Heist Movie: A Review of Ant-Man
directed by Peyton Reed
written by Edgar Wright, Joe Cornish, Adam McKay and Paul Rudd
As much as I have truly savored seeing the Marvel Cinematic Universe unfold since the very first Iron Man movie in 2008, I will admit that, after eleven movies, which include films I find utterly sublime, like the aforementioned Iron Man, The Avengers, and Captain America: The Winter Soldier, I have finally started to feel a little fatigue set in, to the extent that at one point I was contemplating sitting out the MCU's twelfth film, Ant-Man.
More than just feeling tired of superhero movies in general and Marvel movies in particular, I was also one of the few film geeks who was put off by the fact that quirky British director Edgar Wright, who had basically devoted ten years his life to bringing this movie to the big screen, had left this film in a bit of a huff last year over "creative differences" with Marvel Studios. The trailer looked promising, though, and my kids were interested in seeing the movie, so partly out of curiosity and a sense of "duty" to my kids, I still went to see it, doubts notwithstanding.
I'm happy to say that I'm glad I overcame my misgivings and went to see the film; I had a really good time.
Scott Lang (Paul Rudd) has just done three years for burgling, and has resolved to go straight for the sake of his daughter Cassie (Abby Ryder Forston) to the extent that he even resists the enticements of his former partner-in-crime Luis (Michael Pena), at whose apartment he is now staying with two other "associates" Dave (Tip Harris) and Kurt (David Dastmalchian). Things take a turn for the worse, however, as Scott's employer lets him go upon discovering his criminal record, and Scott realizes that he won't be able to see his daughter until he gets on his own two feet. In a fit of desperation, he takes Luis up on his offer, which is to break into the vault of a rich old man away on vacation. As it turns out, that rich old man happens to be Dr. Hank Pym (Michael Douglas) creator of fantastic technologies, one of which shrinks humans to insect size while giving them extraordinary strength and the other of which enables people to communicate with ants. Pym, who actually allowed Scott to break into his house and steal his things, deliberately chose Scott because of the skill he displayed in one of his previous jobs, in which he burgled an ulta-rich one percenter who happened to have the most advanced home security system on the planet. Pym needs Scott to break into the facilities of the very company he founded in order to stop his former protege Darren Cross (Corey Stoll) from using technology derived from Hank's own inventions to create and sell a weapon of frightening power. Scott will have help from Pym, his reluctant(and highly-skilled) daughter Hope (Evangeline Lilly) and most importantly, an army of Pym's most useful allies: ants. Scott is reluctant at first, but agrees when he realizes the stakes, even if it means getting in way over his head.
The good news is that, even though Wright did not direct this movie, Reed does a job that can reasonably described as a couple of notches above competent, and even more encouragingly, Wright's fingerprints can be seen all over the film. The movie's a bit breezy and a lot more lighthearted than other MCU films, which says a lot considering that, with the possible exception of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, most Marvel movies have a certain buoyancy to them which, while making them fun to watch, also opens them up to criticism from people saying that they're pure fluff. The humor works differently here, though, in an Ocean's 11 sort of way.
Casting Paul Rudd as Scott Lang, while not quite as spot-on as the selection of Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark, was a clever move that paid off, as was the choice of making Lang the lead Ant Man and casting Michael Douglas as Henry Pym. What I love about these top-caliber actors like Douglas and, before him, Glenn Close, Robert Redford and Anthony Hopkins, is that none of them are slumming it in these roles for a paycheck, or just so they can say they were in a superhero movie. They all put in really engaging performances, and Douglas is no exception. Evangeline Lilly does a great job as Pym's firebrand of a daughter Hope, but ironically the filmmakers kind of shot themselves in the foot by creating such a strong female character and basically relegating her to a supporting role. Stoll's Darren Cross, while appropriately menacing, is like a few of the other the MCU antagonists that have come before him, yet another throwaway bad guy. Judy Greer, an actress whose work I enjoy, is utterly wasted in her second mom role this year. I was happy, though, about Michael Pena and the rest of the guys playing Lang's crew, who provide wonderful comic relief. Pena, in particular, is central to two of the film's most memorable sequences. The three characters kind of play up to ethnic stereotypes, but the actors playing them are having such a grand time of it that it's hard to begrudge Marvel this little indulgence.
What I had a little difficulty with, though, was the sequences basically tying Scott into the Marvel Cinematic Universe, which felt shoehorned into the script. Yes, they work from the logic of the MCU and achieve the intended result, but they feel disruptive of the film's overall narrative flow. This was a film conceived years before there was a grand design to fit all of these things together, and it definitely feels like it. About the only MCU insertion that feels right is the part of the script demonstrating and explaining Pym's disdain for Stark (played here by John Slattery, rather than the more youthful Dominic Cooper). At least it clearly establishes why Pym wouldn't run to the Avengers for help.
The movie was fun, though not anywhere near Marvel's very best. Still, it's definitely worth 120 minutes of one's time and a couple of hundred pesos. As with most Marvel movies, I skipped the 3D on this one.
7.5/10
written by Edgar Wright, Joe Cornish, Adam McKay and Paul Rudd
As much as I have truly savored seeing the Marvel Cinematic Universe unfold since the very first Iron Man movie in 2008, I will admit that, after eleven movies, which include films I find utterly sublime, like the aforementioned Iron Man, The Avengers, and Captain America: The Winter Soldier, I have finally started to feel a little fatigue set in, to the extent that at one point I was contemplating sitting out the MCU's twelfth film, Ant-Man.
More than just feeling tired of superhero movies in general and Marvel movies in particular, I was also one of the few film geeks who was put off by the fact that quirky British director Edgar Wright, who had basically devoted ten years his life to bringing this movie to the big screen, had left this film in a bit of a huff last year over "creative differences" with Marvel Studios. The trailer looked promising, though, and my kids were interested in seeing the movie, so partly out of curiosity and a sense of "duty" to my kids, I still went to see it, doubts notwithstanding.
I'm happy to say that I'm glad I overcame my misgivings and went to see the film; I had a really good time.
Scott Lang (Paul Rudd) has just done three years for burgling, and has resolved to go straight for the sake of his daughter Cassie (Abby Ryder Forston) to the extent that he even resists the enticements of his former partner-in-crime Luis (Michael Pena), at whose apartment he is now staying with two other "associates" Dave (Tip Harris) and Kurt (David Dastmalchian). Things take a turn for the worse, however, as Scott's employer lets him go upon discovering his criminal record, and Scott realizes that he won't be able to see his daughter until he gets on his own two feet. In a fit of desperation, he takes Luis up on his offer, which is to break into the vault of a rich old man away on vacation. As it turns out, that rich old man happens to be Dr. Hank Pym (Michael Douglas) creator of fantastic technologies, one of which shrinks humans to insect size while giving them extraordinary strength and the other of which enables people to communicate with ants. Pym, who actually allowed Scott to break into his house and steal his things, deliberately chose Scott because of the skill he displayed in one of his previous jobs, in which he burgled an ulta-rich one percenter who happened to have the most advanced home security system on the planet. Pym needs Scott to break into the facilities of the very company he founded in order to stop his former protege Darren Cross (Corey Stoll) from using technology derived from Hank's own inventions to create and sell a weapon of frightening power. Scott will have help from Pym, his reluctant(and highly-skilled) daughter Hope (Evangeline Lilly) and most importantly, an army of Pym's most useful allies: ants. Scott is reluctant at first, but agrees when he realizes the stakes, even if it means getting in way over his head.
The good news is that, even though Wright did not direct this movie, Reed does a job that can reasonably described as a couple of notches above competent, and even more encouragingly, Wright's fingerprints can be seen all over the film. The movie's a bit breezy and a lot more lighthearted than other MCU films, which says a lot considering that, with the possible exception of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, most Marvel movies have a certain buoyancy to them which, while making them fun to watch, also opens them up to criticism from people saying that they're pure fluff. The humor works differently here, though, in an Ocean's 11 sort of way.
Casting Paul Rudd as Scott Lang, while not quite as spot-on as the selection of Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark, was a clever move that paid off, as was the choice of making Lang the lead Ant Man and casting Michael Douglas as Henry Pym. What I love about these top-caliber actors like Douglas and, before him, Glenn Close, Robert Redford and Anthony Hopkins, is that none of them are slumming it in these roles for a paycheck, or just so they can say they were in a superhero movie. They all put in really engaging performances, and Douglas is no exception. Evangeline Lilly does a great job as Pym's firebrand of a daughter Hope, but ironically the filmmakers kind of shot themselves in the foot by creating such a strong female character and basically relegating her to a supporting role. Stoll's Darren Cross, while appropriately menacing, is like a few of the other the MCU antagonists that have come before him, yet another throwaway bad guy. Judy Greer, an actress whose work I enjoy, is utterly wasted in her second mom role this year. I was happy, though, about Michael Pena and the rest of the guys playing Lang's crew, who provide wonderful comic relief. Pena, in particular, is central to two of the film's most memorable sequences. The three characters kind of play up to ethnic stereotypes, but the actors playing them are having such a grand time of it that it's hard to begrudge Marvel this little indulgence.
What I had a little difficulty with, though, was the sequences basically tying Scott into the Marvel Cinematic Universe, which felt shoehorned into the script. Yes, they work from the logic of the MCU and achieve the intended result, but they feel disruptive of the film's overall narrative flow. This was a film conceived years before there was a grand design to fit all of these things together, and it definitely feels like it. About the only MCU insertion that feels right is the part of the script demonstrating and explaining Pym's disdain for Stark (played here by John Slattery, rather than the more youthful Dominic Cooper). At least it clearly establishes why Pym wouldn't run to the Avengers for help.
The movie was fun, though not anywhere near Marvel's very best. Still, it's definitely worth 120 minutes of one's time and a couple of hundred pesos. As with most Marvel movies, I skipped the 3D on this one.
7.5/10
Saturday, July 18, 2015
Cinematic Junk Food: A Review of The Minions
directed by Pierre Coffin and Kyle Balda
written by Brian Lynch
When the animated film Despicable Me came out in 2010, it captivated critics and audiences alike with its inventive story of a supervillain adopting three little girls. What the makers of the film may not have anticipated, however, was how popular said supervillain's droves of tiny, overall-wearing, gibberish-speaking henchmen, collectively called the "Minions" would eventually turn out to be the most influential pop-culture figures with yellow skin since Spongebob Squarepants. After increasing the exposure of the Minions in the second film, the next logical step, in view of their popularity, was to give them their own movie, and so we have the animated film "Minions."
Minions is the story of a race of little yellow creatures that have been around since the dawn of time, whose overriding purpose in life is, as illogical as it may sound, to find and work for the biggest villain in the world. In the course of their lives, they work for such renowned bad guys as the Tyrannosaurus Rex, Dracula, and Napoleon Bonaparte, and always end up causing their bosses' undoing, as a result of which they end up living in an ice cave for over a hundred years, until one of them, Kevin (Coffin, who voices all other minions), decides to go out an find "the" big villain to whom all of them can devote their apparently eternal lives in servitude. Leaving the cave, Kevin, accompanied by fellow Minions Bob and Stuart sets out to find this "big boss" and their travels take them to New York City in the year 1968, where they learn while watching late-night television, that the supervillain they are searching for may just be in Orlando, a femme fatale by the name of Scarlet Overkill (Sandra Bullock). They travel to Orlando and through a madcap sequence of events manage to impress her enough to get her to hire them, whereupon she gives them their big assignment: they are to steal the Royal Crown of England. While they will have at their disposal the gadgets of Scarlet's husband Herb (Jon Hamm), it wont be an easy task, but the Minions are always eager to please.
The paper-thin plot is barely enough to sustain the running time of a full-length movie, but the good news is that the slapstick involving the Minions is virtually non-stop, so all told it's still about eighty or so minutes of nice, mindless fun with topnotch computer-generated animation, all set to a totally groovy sixties soundtrack (though I also appreciated the familiar musical cue from the Despicable Me movies, which was also a staple of the mobile device game). Speaking of the game, it gets quite the shout-out from the filmmakers at the movie's climax.
That's the thing about this movie, though; one remembers things like the toys and the video games because unlike the quirky first movie, which was really about a middle-aged man becoming an instant dad for the very first time, this one, with its nonsensical plot and celebrity walk-ons really feels like a slickly-packaged product, designed primarily to sell related merchandise. It makes no pretensions about what it is and is not, but watching it felt like going on a junk food binge. It was a tasty treat in its own way, but not quite what I'd call a truly satisfying cinematic experience.
The kids loved it, and I was happy to indulge them, but I wouldn't let them watch movies like this on a regular basis for the same reason I wouldn't let them eat hotdogs everyday; it isn't really good for them.
6/10
written by Brian Lynch
When the animated film Despicable Me came out in 2010, it captivated critics and audiences alike with its inventive story of a supervillain adopting three little girls. What the makers of the film may not have anticipated, however, was how popular said supervillain's droves of tiny, overall-wearing, gibberish-speaking henchmen, collectively called the "Minions" would eventually turn out to be the most influential pop-culture figures with yellow skin since Spongebob Squarepants. After increasing the exposure of the Minions in the second film, the next logical step, in view of their popularity, was to give them their own movie, and so we have the animated film "Minions."
Minions is the story of a race of little yellow creatures that have been around since the dawn of time, whose overriding purpose in life is, as illogical as it may sound, to find and work for the biggest villain in the world. In the course of their lives, they work for such renowned bad guys as the Tyrannosaurus Rex, Dracula, and Napoleon Bonaparte, and always end up causing their bosses' undoing, as a result of which they end up living in an ice cave for over a hundred years, until one of them, Kevin (Coffin, who voices all other minions), decides to go out an find "the" big villain to whom all of them can devote their apparently eternal lives in servitude. Leaving the cave, Kevin, accompanied by fellow Minions Bob and Stuart sets out to find this "big boss" and their travels take them to New York City in the year 1968, where they learn while watching late-night television, that the supervillain they are searching for may just be in Orlando, a femme fatale by the name of Scarlet Overkill (Sandra Bullock). They travel to Orlando and through a madcap sequence of events manage to impress her enough to get her to hire them, whereupon she gives them their big assignment: they are to steal the Royal Crown of England. While they will have at their disposal the gadgets of Scarlet's husband Herb (Jon Hamm), it wont be an easy task, but the Minions are always eager to please.
The paper-thin plot is barely enough to sustain the running time of a full-length movie, but the good news is that the slapstick involving the Minions is virtually non-stop, so all told it's still about eighty or so minutes of nice, mindless fun with topnotch computer-generated animation, all set to a totally groovy sixties soundtrack (though I also appreciated the familiar musical cue from the Despicable Me movies, which was also a staple of the mobile device game). Speaking of the game, it gets quite the shout-out from the filmmakers at the movie's climax.
That's the thing about this movie, though; one remembers things like the toys and the video games because unlike the quirky first movie, which was really about a middle-aged man becoming an instant dad for the very first time, this one, with its nonsensical plot and celebrity walk-ons really feels like a slickly-packaged product, designed primarily to sell related merchandise. It makes no pretensions about what it is and is not, but watching it felt like going on a junk food binge. It was a tasty treat in its own way, but not quite what I'd call a truly satisfying cinematic experience.
The kids loved it, and I was happy to indulge them, but I wouldn't let them watch movies like this on a regular basis for the same reason I wouldn't let them eat hotdogs everyday; it isn't really good for them.
6/10
Saturday, June 27, 2015
R.I.P. James Horner
Earlier today, I found out that one of my very favorite film composers, James Horner, probably best known for having composed the music and theme song for James Cameron's Titanic, died in a plane crash. Of all the celebrity deaths I've ever heard of, this is perhaps the saddest for me, along with Robin Williams' suicide.
I grew up with James Horner's music. When I was eleven I watched Amblin Entertainment's An American Tail on Betamax. As utterly ridiculous as this sounds, I was convinced I was in love with the main character's sister after hearing her (and the main character), sing the song "Somewhere Out There" in the course of the film. I was, of course, captivated by the song (though oddly enough, not the pop version by Linda Ronstadt) and in particular by James Horner's contribution to that melody. He wrote the score, which permeated the film and, as performed by the London Symphony Orchestra, was simply haunting. It left a heck of an impression.
About four years later, Horner blew me away, perhaps a bit more this time, with the soaring choral music of the Civil War epic Glory, a story of African-American soldiers fighting for equality during the War between the States. That was when he became one of my favorite composers of all time.
My love for his music continued into the 1990s, thanks to an aunt who brought me extremely hard to find CDs from the United States. His first foray into the superhero genre, The Rocketeer, was as magnificent as the film itself was ill-fated at the box office, but I was also a fan of his less bombastic stuff, like the jazz-flavored music of Phil Alden Robinson's Sneakers. I also liked his work on Edward Zwick's Legends of the Fall, the film that arguably launched Brad Pitt's career but which I remember better for its sweeping, if slightly overbearing musical score, which featured seventy-five glorious minutes of Horner music being played by the London Symphony Orchestra.
Then he came up with, for me, some of the very best work of his career: the one-two punch of Apollo 13 and Braveheart, the latter of which got him the job that would seal his status as a pop-culture icon: Titanic. People tell me they still cry when they watch that movie, even 18 years after it first came out, and I'm willing to bet Horner's music plays a huge part in that.
Of course, while everyone else went back to their pop music after that, Horner geeks like me continued to follow his work; in particular I loved his music score for Martin Campbell's The Mask of Zorro, yet another foray into the action-adventure genre, the very next year.
Then, the 2000s came, and with it the superhero renaissance courtesy of the X-Men and Spider-Man, and while these films dominated the box-office landscape for the better part of a decade, Horner kind of fell under the radar for me, although he continued to work. He even snagged a couple of Oscar nominations in 2002 and 2004 for A Beautiful Mind and House of Sand and Fog, respectively.
When James Cameron's Avatar started breaking box-office records in 2009, of course I bought and thoroughly enjoyed James Horner's high-flying soundtrack, but if I may be honest, after over twenty years of enjoying this man's music I found myself recognizing a little too often the hooks, motifs and cues from his other work, which kind of affected my appreciation just the slightest bit, especially that four-note "enemy" motif that has featured in a lot of his film scores, and I started wondering if he'd run out of tricks. He had always been guilty of a bit of recycling (which, arguably can also be said of the likes of Hans Zimmer and even the heralded John Williams), but it struck me a little that he was doing it quite a lot in this music.
Horner then wrote the music for the remake of the 1984 film The Karate Kid, and while it was serviceable, it felt even more like a regurgitation of his previous work than Avatar did. He seemed to be in a bit of a creative slump.
Then Horner did something I had not expected him to do: he joined the Marvel Age, and wrote music for Marc Webb's The Amazing Spider-Man. I had always associated the comic book movie genre with the likes of Danny Elfman, Alan Silvestri and Zimmer. Heck, even John Williams only composed music for the first Superman movie (though the theme still endures thirty-seven years later, even after Zimmer's rather clumsy attempt to create a new one); I hadn't figured Horner would be a fit for this, even though he arguably had some superhero work under his belt with the little-seen Rocketeer. Suddenly, a childhood dream I didn't even know I had was being fulfilled.
Better still, Horner's work on the movie truly surprised me. Yes, there were cues borrowed from his other work, but the Shakuhachi (Japanese wood flute) and four-note motif were nowhere to be found, and with the full-bodied brass that played Spider-Man's theme when he swung across a bridge after foiling a carjacker, Horner convinced me that not even John Williams himself could have done a better job of scoring this movie. Not just that; but more than just about all of the superhero scores, including the work of the aforementioned Elfman, Zimmer and Silvestri I had heard over the last ten years prior to this, Horner's music had an extraordinary emotional range. I loved the Peter/Gwen theme every bit as much as I enjoyed the superhero-ey stuff.
What really took me by surprise was the fact Horner poured so much character into what could have easily been treated as another paycheck. I mean, Webb wasn't one of his frequent collaborators like Ron Howard, James Cameron or Mel Gibson, so he could have rejiggered another of his lesser known scores from the 1990s and passed it off as something new. After all, The Karate Kid had been nothing but a patchwork of all his former score. It wasn't the case here, and quite frankly I found myself falling in love with Horner's music all over again, and not just because Spider-Man happens to be my favorite comic book character.
Immediately thereafter, however, he went into a long period of silence. The Amazing Spider Man came out in 2012, and for two years thereafter nothing came out with his name on it. Sure, there were rumblings of a series of sequels to Avatar, but considering that James Cameron is not in the habit of making a movie more often than every six years at best, assuming Horner would even work on the movies, they were a long way into the future.
Finally, this year, Horner was slated to work on not just one but three movies, including a rather promising drama starring Jake Gyllenhaal entitled Southpaw.
And now he's gone.
It saddens me greatly that someone whose music I grew up with has passed on, and arguably well ahead of his time considering that he was a sprightly 61 (for purposes of comparison, consider that John Williams is now 83 and still composing music), but what pains me more was that he went at a time when I was starting to rediscover him. I take some consolation that I can look forward to at least three more movies with the music of my favorite composer of all, the wonderful James Horner.
Thank you for the music and the memories, Mr. Horner.
I grew up with James Horner's music. When I was eleven I watched Amblin Entertainment's An American Tail on Betamax. As utterly ridiculous as this sounds, I was convinced I was in love with the main character's sister after hearing her (and the main character), sing the song "Somewhere Out There" in the course of the film. I was, of course, captivated by the song (though oddly enough, not the pop version by Linda Ronstadt) and in particular by James Horner's contribution to that melody. He wrote the score, which permeated the film and, as performed by the London Symphony Orchestra, was simply haunting. It left a heck of an impression.
About four years later, Horner blew me away, perhaps a bit more this time, with the soaring choral music of the Civil War epic Glory, a story of African-American soldiers fighting for equality during the War between the States. That was when he became one of my favorite composers of all time.
My love for his music continued into the 1990s, thanks to an aunt who brought me extremely hard to find CDs from the United States. His first foray into the superhero genre, The Rocketeer, was as magnificent as the film itself was ill-fated at the box office, but I was also a fan of his less bombastic stuff, like the jazz-flavored music of Phil Alden Robinson's Sneakers. I also liked his work on Edward Zwick's Legends of the Fall, the film that arguably launched Brad Pitt's career but which I remember better for its sweeping, if slightly overbearing musical score, which featured seventy-five glorious minutes of Horner music being played by the London Symphony Orchestra.
Then he came up with, for me, some of the very best work of his career: the one-two punch of Apollo 13 and Braveheart, the latter of which got him the job that would seal his status as a pop-culture icon: Titanic. People tell me they still cry when they watch that movie, even 18 years after it first came out, and I'm willing to bet Horner's music plays a huge part in that.
Of course, while everyone else went back to their pop music after that, Horner geeks like me continued to follow his work; in particular I loved his music score for Martin Campbell's The Mask of Zorro, yet another foray into the action-adventure genre, the very next year.
Then, the 2000s came, and with it the superhero renaissance courtesy of the X-Men and Spider-Man, and while these films dominated the box-office landscape for the better part of a decade, Horner kind of fell under the radar for me, although he continued to work. He even snagged a couple of Oscar nominations in 2002 and 2004 for A Beautiful Mind and House of Sand and Fog, respectively.
When James Cameron's Avatar started breaking box-office records in 2009, of course I bought and thoroughly enjoyed James Horner's high-flying soundtrack, but if I may be honest, after over twenty years of enjoying this man's music I found myself recognizing a little too often the hooks, motifs and cues from his other work, which kind of affected my appreciation just the slightest bit, especially that four-note "enemy" motif that has featured in a lot of his film scores, and I started wondering if he'd run out of tricks. He had always been guilty of a bit of recycling (which, arguably can also be said of the likes of Hans Zimmer and even the heralded John Williams), but it struck me a little that he was doing it quite a lot in this music.
Horner then wrote the music for the remake of the 1984 film The Karate Kid, and while it was serviceable, it felt even more like a regurgitation of his previous work than Avatar did. He seemed to be in a bit of a creative slump.
Then Horner did something I had not expected him to do: he joined the Marvel Age, and wrote music for Marc Webb's The Amazing Spider-Man. I had always associated the comic book movie genre with the likes of Danny Elfman, Alan Silvestri and Zimmer. Heck, even John Williams only composed music for the first Superman movie (though the theme still endures thirty-seven years later, even after Zimmer's rather clumsy attempt to create a new one); I hadn't figured Horner would be a fit for this, even though he arguably had some superhero work under his belt with the little-seen Rocketeer. Suddenly, a childhood dream I didn't even know I had was being fulfilled.
Better still, Horner's work on the movie truly surprised me. Yes, there were cues borrowed from his other work, but the Shakuhachi (Japanese wood flute) and four-note motif were nowhere to be found, and with the full-bodied brass that played Spider-Man's theme when he swung across a bridge after foiling a carjacker, Horner convinced me that not even John Williams himself could have done a better job of scoring this movie. Not just that; but more than just about all of the superhero scores, including the work of the aforementioned Elfman, Zimmer and Silvestri I had heard over the last ten years prior to this, Horner's music had an extraordinary emotional range. I loved the Peter/Gwen theme every bit as much as I enjoyed the superhero-ey stuff.
What really took me by surprise was the fact Horner poured so much character into what could have easily been treated as another paycheck. I mean, Webb wasn't one of his frequent collaborators like Ron Howard, James Cameron or Mel Gibson, so he could have rejiggered another of his lesser known scores from the 1990s and passed it off as something new. After all, The Karate Kid had been nothing but a patchwork of all his former score. It wasn't the case here, and quite frankly I found myself falling in love with Horner's music all over again, and not just because Spider-Man happens to be my favorite comic book character.
Immediately thereafter, however, he went into a long period of silence. The Amazing Spider Man came out in 2012, and for two years thereafter nothing came out with his name on it. Sure, there were rumblings of a series of sequels to Avatar, but considering that James Cameron is not in the habit of making a movie more often than every six years at best, assuming Horner would even work on the movies, they were a long way into the future.
Finally, this year, Horner was slated to work on not just one but three movies, including a rather promising drama starring Jake Gyllenhaal entitled Southpaw.
And now he's gone.
It saddens me greatly that someone whose music I grew up with has passed on, and arguably well ahead of his time considering that he was a sprightly 61 (for purposes of comparison, consider that John Williams is now 83 and still composing music), but what pains me more was that he went at a time when I was starting to rediscover him. I take some consolation that I can look forward to at least three more movies with the music of my favorite composer of all, the wonderful James Horner.
Thank you for the music and the memories, Mr. Horner.
Friday, June 12, 2015
A Very Pleasant Trip Down Memory Lane: A Review of Jurassic World
directed by Colin Trevorrow
written by Derek Conolly, Colin Trevorrow, Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver
I was not having a very good year in 1993 when I walked into Steven Spielberg's Jurassic Park, but when I walked out after having seen the film I was significantly happier. It really was a fantastic film, the kind that gets me excited about watching movies in the first place. The sequel four years later was simply awful by comparison, and by the time the third movie in the series rolled around, this one no longer based on a novel by the series creator, the late Michael Crichton, I had lost interest and caught it on cable television instead of in the theaters.
I'm not entirely sure why I was particularly impressed by the trailer of Jurassic World, the latest installment in the Jurassic series, which I can confirm is a sequel and not at all a reboot (and even features one of the cast members of the very first movie) but suffice it to say, I went to see it, my expectations having been tempered by my disappointment with the second and third movies and several years' worth of cynicism and blockbuster fatigue. Maybe I just liked the feeling that star Chris Pratt was kind of channeling his Star Lord character from last year's Guardians of the Galaxy. Whatever the reason, I'm happy to say that for the first time since 1993, I enjoyed a movie with the word "Jurassic" in the title.
The story picks up some 22 years from the time the first movie left off (and as odd as this may sound, actually seems to disregard the previous two sequels) and things are quite different now; Jurassic World is a fully-functioning theme park, the kind that Richard Attenborough's John Hammond set out to build in the first movie, and has been for several years now. As often happens with any long-running business concern, costs are escalating, and the woman running it, Claire Dearing (Bryce Dallas Howard) has been looking for ways to incease the "wow" factor, and as a result she and her higher-ups, including the theme park's owner, magnate Simon Masrani (Irrfan Khan) have given the scientists, headed by Henry Wu (B.D. Wong) from the first film free rein to create the most badass new dinosaur they could imagine. Meanwhile, another new approach Masrani is taking is having ex-sailor Owen Grady (Pratt) actually train the deadly velociraptors that menaced the humans during the first three films, and to his credit, Grady seems to have done a pretty good job, much to the interest of the park's head of security, Hoskins (Vincent D'Onofrio), who has his own sinister plans for the raptors. Claire is so preoccupied with improving the park's attendance that she completely neglects her two nephews Zach (Nick Robinson) and Gray (Ty Simpkins) who are touring the place while their parents (Andy Buckley and Judy Greer) lock horns over their divorce proceedings thousands of kilometers away. She leaves them in the hands of her equally indifferent assistant Zara (Katie McGrath). Unfortunately for just about every one of the 20,000 + human beings on the park, the Indominus Rex, the dinosaur that Dr. Wu and his cohorts have cooked up is bigger, meaner, and smarter than any other dinosaur, and in true Jurassic Park fashion, figures out a way to get out of its enclosure and cause all hell to break loose.
While I often bewail Hollywood's lack of originality given the proliferation of remakes, reboots, sequels and adaptations of existing material, Trevorrow makes this film work by paying effective homage to the original film, and a brace of other 80s and 90s science-fiction films, including James Cameron's Aliens. There's an overriding sense throughout the whole movie that the filmmakers know they aren't breaking new ground, so they try their very best to show their love for the original film and similar movies of the era, and by gum it works. There's a bit of investment in getting the audience to care what happens to the characters when the dino-poop hits the fan; the kids have to grapple with their parents' impending divorce, and their aunt's almost criminal negligence, Claire has to deal with, well, the greed of Jurassic World's shareholders, and Owen has to deal with the fact that while he seems to finally have achieved some kind of breakthrough in understanding dinosaurs (or at least velociraptors), no one else, save perhaps for Barry, one of the park's other wranglers (Omar Sy) seems to really care.
The humans are always peripheral in movies like this, though; at the end of the day their principal purpose is to serve as stand-ins for the audience so that they can feel they're in the thick of all the dinosaur-induced chaos, and to these humans' credit, they do a pretty good job. The real treat has always been the dinosaurs, and Trevorrow gets all of the important beats right, from concealing the big bad I-Rex (a jab, I imagine, at today's smartphone savvy generation) for most of the first act of the film, to dialing back the constant reliance on computer-generated imagery and giving animatronic dinosaurs some generous screen time, just as Spielberg did in the original. Still, the script calls for a lot of running, fighting and killing dinosaurs here, so heavy use of CGI is kind of a must, but at least Industrial Light and Magic (ILM) is very much at the top of their game here, no matter what the hipsters who love to bitch about CGI might say.
I also appreciated Michael Giacchino's unobtrusive music score, as well as his rather generous and very well-timed references to John Williams' regal theme.
It's worth emphasizing at this point that this film is nowhere near as good as the original, which set a benchmark for science fiction movies that stood for many years, but it's also worth emphasizing that it's not trying to be. Interestingly, like the first film, it also has something to say, though it feels more of a commentary about the greed of Hollywood than on the evil of messing with nature that was quite patent in the first film. There's some irony to that, considering that from one perspective this film may definitely be viewed as a cynical cash grab; a repackaging of a much older product to sell to newer audiences. There's even a loose end that is somewhat shamelessly left dangling so that Universal can pursue a sequel if the box office receipts justify one.
Ultimately, though, what matters is that the film, for all its flaws, is quite an entertaining affair. Trevorrow and his cast and crew have thrown together the best "Jurassic" movie since the original, and whatever success this film may experience when it opens worldwide is, to my mind, well-deserved.
(On a side note: I was somewhat amused by the fact that almost the entirety of the principal cast consists of actors who have starred in one adaptation or another of a Marvel comics property; Pratt, of course, was the lead in the aforementioned Guardians of the Galaxy, Howard had a supporting role in Spider-Man 3, Khan had a role in The Amazing Spider-Man, Simpkins had a pretty pivotal role in Iron Man 3, Sy had a small role in X-Men: Days of Future Past, and D'Onofrio was the arch villain in Daredevil. There were so many Marvel-movie or TV-show veterans around that if the Hulk had shown up at some point and started beating up the dinosaurs, he wouldn't have felt entirely out of place.)
The cast and crew have put together a solid, competent sequel to one of the most beloved Spielberg movies of all time, and while it wasn't exactly 1993 all over again for me, I had a really good time.
7.5/10
written by Derek Conolly, Colin Trevorrow, Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver
I was not having a very good year in 1993 when I walked into Steven Spielberg's Jurassic Park, but when I walked out after having seen the film I was significantly happier. It really was a fantastic film, the kind that gets me excited about watching movies in the first place. The sequel four years later was simply awful by comparison, and by the time the third movie in the series rolled around, this one no longer based on a novel by the series creator, the late Michael Crichton, I had lost interest and caught it on cable television instead of in the theaters.
I'm not entirely sure why I was particularly impressed by the trailer of Jurassic World, the latest installment in the Jurassic series, which I can confirm is a sequel and not at all a reboot (and even features one of the cast members of the very first movie) but suffice it to say, I went to see it, my expectations having been tempered by my disappointment with the second and third movies and several years' worth of cynicism and blockbuster fatigue. Maybe I just liked the feeling that star Chris Pratt was kind of channeling his Star Lord character from last year's Guardians of the Galaxy. Whatever the reason, I'm happy to say that for the first time since 1993, I enjoyed a movie with the word "Jurassic" in the title.
The story picks up some 22 years from the time the first movie left off (and as odd as this may sound, actually seems to disregard the previous two sequels) and things are quite different now; Jurassic World is a fully-functioning theme park, the kind that Richard Attenborough's John Hammond set out to build in the first movie, and has been for several years now. As often happens with any long-running business concern, costs are escalating, and the woman running it, Claire Dearing (Bryce Dallas Howard) has been looking for ways to incease the "wow" factor, and as a result she and her higher-ups, including the theme park's owner, magnate Simon Masrani (Irrfan Khan) have given the scientists, headed by Henry Wu (B.D. Wong) from the first film free rein to create the most badass new dinosaur they could imagine. Meanwhile, another new approach Masrani is taking is having ex-sailor Owen Grady (Pratt) actually train the deadly velociraptors that menaced the humans during the first three films, and to his credit, Grady seems to have done a pretty good job, much to the interest of the park's head of security, Hoskins (Vincent D'Onofrio), who has his own sinister plans for the raptors. Claire is so preoccupied with improving the park's attendance that she completely neglects her two nephews Zach (Nick Robinson) and Gray (Ty Simpkins) who are touring the place while their parents (Andy Buckley and Judy Greer) lock horns over their divorce proceedings thousands of kilometers away. She leaves them in the hands of her equally indifferent assistant Zara (Katie McGrath). Unfortunately for just about every one of the 20,000 + human beings on the park, the Indominus Rex, the dinosaur that Dr. Wu and his cohorts have cooked up is bigger, meaner, and smarter than any other dinosaur, and in true Jurassic Park fashion, figures out a way to get out of its enclosure and cause all hell to break loose.
While I often bewail Hollywood's lack of originality given the proliferation of remakes, reboots, sequels and adaptations of existing material, Trevorrow makes this film work by paying effective homage to the original film, and a brace of other 80s and 90s science-fiction films, including James Cameron's Aliens. There's an overriding sense throughout the whole movie that the filmmakers know they aren't breaking new ground, so they try their very best to show their love for the original film and similar movies of the era, and by gum it works. There's a bit of investment in getting the audience to care what happens to the characters when the dino-poop hits the fan; the kids have to grapple with their parents' impending divorce, and their aunt's almost criminal negligence, Claire has to deal with, well, the greed of Jurassic World's shareholders, and Owen has to deal with the fact that while he seems to finally have achieved some kind of breakthrough in understanding dinosaurs (or at least velociraptors), no one else, save perhaps for Barry, one of the park's other wranglers (Omar Sy) seems to really care.
The humans are always peripheral in movies like this, though; at the end of the day their principal purpose is to serve as stand-ins for the audience so that they can feel they're in the thick of all the dinosaur-induced chaos, and to these humans' credit, they do a pretty good job. The real treat has always been the dinosaurs, and Trevorrow gets all of the important beats right, from concealing the big bad I-Rex (a jab, I imagine, at today's smartphone savvy generation) for most of the first act of the film, to dialing back the constant reliance on computer-generated imagery and giving animatronic dinosaurs some generous screen time, just as Spielberg did in the original. Still, the script calls for a lot of running, fighting and killing dinosaurs here, so heavy use of CGI is kind of a must, but at least Industrial Light and Magic (ILM) is very much at the top of their game here, no matter what the hipsters who love to bitch about CGI might say.
I also appreciated Michael Giacchino's unobtrusive music score, as well as his rather generous and very well-timed references to John Williams' regal theme.
It's worth emphasizing at this point that this film is nowhere near as good as the original, which set a benchmark for science fiction movies that stood for many years, but it's also worth emphasizing that it's not trying to be. Interestingly, like the first film, it also has something to say, though it feels more of a commentary about the greed of Hollywood than on the evil of messing with nature that was quite patent in the first film. There's some irony to that, considering that from one perspective this film may definitely be viewed as a cynical cash grab; a repackaging of a much older product to sell to newer audiences. There's even a loose end that is somewhat shamelessly left dangling so that Universal can pursue a sequel if the box office receipts justify one.
Ultimately, though, what matters is that the film, for all its flaws, is quite an entertaining affair. Trevorrow and his cast and crew have thrown together the best "Jurassic" movie since the original, and whatever success this film may experience when it opens worldwide is, to my mind, well-deserved.
(On a side note: I was somewhat amused by the fact that almost the entirety of the principal cast consists of actors who have starred in one adaptation or another of a Marvel comics property; Pratt, of course, was the lead in the aforementioned Guardians of the Galaxy, Howard had a supporting role in Spider-Man 3, Khan had a role in The Amazing Spider-Man, Simpkins had a pretty pivotal role in Iron Man 3, Sy had a small role in X-Men: Days of Future Past, and D'Onofrio was the arch villain in Daredevil. There were so many Marvel-movie or TV-show veterans around that if the Hulk had shown up at some point and started beating up the dinosaurs, he wouldn't have felt entirely out of place.)
The cast and crew have put together a solid, competent sequel to one of the most beloved Spielberg movies of all time, and while it wasn't exactly 1993 all over again for me, I had a really good time.
7.5/10
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