As storytelling twists go, the Thor franchise, especially in relation to its siblings in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, has always been relatively light on shocking revelations. There's nothing in any of the individual films, including the new Thor: Ragnarok that is anywhere on the level of Captain America finding out that S.H.I.E.L.D. is secretly being run by HYDRA, or that Peter Parker's homecoming date was actually the daughter of his arch nemesis. The film does have its share of twists, though, and full credit goes to whoever cut the trailer for effectively masking a lot of key plot points. Obviously, they learned a lot from the "Terminator 2" school of how NOT to make a movie trailer.
The film reveals its first twist early: Hela is Thor's older sister who was banished for her ambition to basically conquer the entire galaxy. Anyone familiar with the comics and even Norse mythology will know that there's some strange familial connection between Hela and Loki; she's supposedly Loki's daughter, albeit of a past incarnation of Loki yadda yadda yadda. I was actually wondering how they planned to address this in the film, and truth be told I like the way they handled it; it's a lot less convoluted this way. It's not that big of a spoiler when one thinks about it, especially considering how early it was revealed in the film, but given that it was conscientiously concealed up until the film's release I suppose it does count as one.
The next major twist, one that goes hand-in-hand with the revelation of who Hela is, is that Odin, before his benevolent Allfather days, was in fact a warmongering, imperialistic sonofabitch who conquered the nine realms with his equally bloodthirsty daughter. This is revealed with great flourish when Hela destroys a Sistine-chapel-like fresco adorning the ceiling of Asgard's throne room depicting Odin and his sons, only to reveal a much older, Byzantine-like painting underneath which chronicles Odin's days of bloody conquest, in which Odin sports an imposing, antler-like helmet much like Hela's. If I may be honest, this was a bit of a wasted opportunity for me; it's been hinted in past installments that Odin was hardly the noble and benevolent ruler that his subjects believed him to be, that he had more than a few dark secrets. Hela and this grim past are easily among the darkest of his secrets, but Odin himself is no longer around to face the fallout, having disintegrated much, much earlier in the film. If nothing else, I would have loved to have seen Hopkins and Blanchett face off in a father-daughter confrontation. I get, however, that it may have upset the delicate balance in tone that Taika Waititi had achieved and so Odin turns into a more benign, Obi-Wan-Kenobi-like presence instead.
The final twist, that Thor would have to destroy Asgard in order to save it, was a pretty clever play on the usual cataclysmic superhero movie ending where the mission is to save the world from blowing up. It was akin to the clever climax of Doctor Strange in which the destruction of Hong Kong was played in reverse. Again, full credit goes to the guys who cut the trailer, who gave us all the impression that it was Hela who would blow up Asgard, when in fact it was not at all in her best interests to do so. I liked this twist, and the maturity of Thor's decision to essentially destroy his homeworld and to finally assume the mantle of King of Asgard. I also liked that the events of this movie did not leave him unscathed, as, aside from his haircut he loses an eye to Hela in their climactic battle. It was fitting to see him wearing an eye-patch, at the end of the film, as he finally accepted his birthright as the new Allfather.
There was at least one aspect of the film that didn't really sit well with me, though.
The manner in which the Warriors Three were dispatched, for example, left me kind of cold. Again, I imagine this was a question of not upsetting the film's tone, but for Thor's closest comrades-in-arms, at least, as they were described in the first film, to die such abrupt onscreen deaths, felt like a bit of a disservice to them. I was glad that at least Heimdall survived, at that Jamie Alexander's Sif, who does not appear in this film, was spared such an ignominious end. Overall, though, between the depictions (or non-depictions) of Odin, the Warriors Three, Heimdall and Sif, I really did get the sense of "Ragnarok," which translates loosely as the end of all things and the beginning of new ones, as Waititi clearly made it a point to discard old characters and bring in new ones.
Natalie Portman's Jane Foster, as well as her sidekicks Darcy and Selvig played by Kat Dennings and Stellan Skarsgard, are nowhere to be found, and to be honest, that's kind of a good thing.
For all of the absences, though, there were a couple of appearances that were riotous fun, like much ballyhooed Matt Damon cameo, in which Damon plays an Asgardian playing Loki in a play about his "death" in the last film. With Chris Hemsworth's brother Luke playing an Asgardian playing Thor, and Jurassic Park actor (and Waititi collaborator) Sam Neill playing an Asgardian playing Odin, the entire scene featuring the play was chock full of fun cameos. I don't know how often Marvel will be able to pull such high profile cameos like this off, but I would be so very glad if this is the start of a new trend for them.
I really want to see this movie again!
Friday, October 27, 2017
Thursday, October 26, 2017
The "Thor" Movie We've All Been Waiting For: A Spoiler-Free Review of Thor: Ragnarok
directed by Taika Waititi
written by Eric Pearson, Craig Kyle and Christopher Yost
Six years after Marvel Studios introduced Chris Hemsworth to audiences as Thor, the God of Thunder, and four years after the mildly entertaining but ultimately forgettable sequel, indie film director Taika Waititi (Hunt for the Wilderpeople) delivers what many of us may have started to believe we would never see: a truly exceptional Thor movie.
The movie starts out with Thor neutralizing a serious threat to Asgard, only to finally discover the ruse that his brother Loki (Tom Hiddleston) has been maintaining since the end of the last movie: he was pretending to be the Allfather Odin (Anthony Hopkins). Thor and Loki journey to Earth, where they find the real Odin, who informs them of a threat that could consume all of Asgard: the wicked, insanely powerful Hela, who shows up shortly thereafter and, as has been widely seen in the trailers, destroys Thor's hammer. Knowing they are outmatched, Loki has himself and Thor summoned back to Asgard, only for Hela to knock them both out of the Bifrost in mid-transport en route to taking over all of Asgard. Thor finds himself on a strange junk-laden planet called Sakaar, where he is captured by the tough-as-nails, perpetually boozing Valkyrie (Tessa Thompson) who brings him before the planet's loopy despot, the Grandmaster (Jeff Goldblum), with whom Loki has aligned himself. The Grandmaster holds gladiatorial contests between various creatures from across the galaxy for fun, and tells Thor that he may leave, for as long as he defeats his champion. The complication, though, is that this champion happens to be none other than Thor's Avengers teammate the incredible Hulk, who, for some reason has not transformed back into Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo) for quite some time. Thor will have to overcome this challenge, return to Asgard and defeat Hela if he is to have any hope of saving Asgard.
The problem that has bedeviled the Thor standalone franchise since day one has been one of tone. The concept itself, i.e. space Vikings interacting with earthlings is just so inherently ridiculous that it's not really possible to do one of these films with a completely straight face. Kenneth Branagh's first film represented a pretty strong effort to address this problem, but even though the film was a good enough introduction to the character, the tonal problem persisted. The second film seemed content to coast on the success of the first, and of the massive success of The Avengers.
With this film, it genuinely feels as though the brain trust at Marvel sat down with their quirky director and really tried to address the problem, and their solution, which was to turn the absurdity of it up to 11, is a total winner.
I've noticed, reading even the glowing reviews, that there have been a few gripes about how Waititi's off-kilter vision is spoiled by the "generic" superhero aspects of the story, basically lamenting that the whole Hela/Asgard aspect of the film weighs down the wacky joy of Thor's and Hulk's hi-jinks on the planet Sakaar. I basically think they're reading it wrong. Introducing Hela into the story is a natural progression for this particular franchise; anyone with even a passing knowledge of the Thor comic book mythology knows how crucial Hela is to the whole narrative, and goodness knows the fan community had been waiting for her long enough (certainly more than they were for the utterly forgettable Malekith from the second film). In short, bringing Hela to the big screen was always a question not of if, but of when...and HOW. To my mind, having Cate Blanchett breathe life into one of Thor's iconic villains was exactly the way Marvel needed to go, but then there was still the aspect of Ragnarok being a bit of a downer. Make no mistake: as fun as this movie is, Hela gets to be Hela, the goddess of death, and racks up an appropriate body count. Anyone looking to bring small children should bear that in mind; the movie has its fair share of extremely violent moments. Could audiences have sat through two and a half hours of that? Of course not. Marvel might not even have made their coveted PG-13 rating, no matter how bloodless the various skewering scenes may have been.
And that's where Waititi's demented re-imagining of the popular 2006 Hulk story line "Planet Hulk" basically comes in and completely saves the day. It's the perfect counterweight to the grim cataclysm that is Hela, but at the same time would make little to no sense without it. Blanchett's Hela is still a wicked delight but could not have been this enjoyable had we watched her rain terror down upon on our Asgardian heroes throughout the entire film, which is why Sakaar, led by Jeff Goldblum's ultra-zany Grandmaster is exactly what the film needs to balance out that unrelenting grimness. On the other hand, without the urgency of the threat Hela posed, the film would have lost its emotional anchor and the craziness of Sakaar would have just felt a tad arbitrary. A delicate balancing act was required, and Waititi absolutely nailed it. In the 80s-flavored neon-colored Sakaar sequences, even the requisite CGI comes to life in a way that hasn't been seen before. There's a real joy in seeing Thor and Hulk dressed up as gladiators, exchanging some real haymakers; it's what many of us have been yearning for since their very, VERY brief exchange of fisticuffs in The Avengers five long years ago. Also, I'm reasonably confident that the people who remember the mutant dog fight from the disastrous 2003 Hulk solo movie will take joy in seeing the jade giant taking on a giant canine in a fight that's actually entertaining this time.
In discarding both Thor's trademark hammer and long hair, Waititi symbolically discards things the character has long been associated with and effectively severs the entire franchise from narrative slog that could easily have bogged it down with a case of the dreaded threequel-itis. The transformation is more than just physical; Hemsworth takes the opportunity to play Thor very differently from the Shakespeare-esque, tragic figure he cut in the first movie and the square-jawed hero he played in the second. Ironically, this is where Hemsworth gets to let his proverbial hair down, and one can tell he's really having a great time here. He's got great onscreen chemistry with his newfound best bud Hulk, and his alter ego Bruce Banner. Even the normally scene-stealing Hiddleston as Loki takes a step back, playing it a little more straight this time so as to let Hemsworth do his thing, and to my mind, it works like a charm. Speaking of scene-stealers, franchise newcomer Tessa makes a fantastic first impression as the nameless Valkyrie, a legendary warrior with a dark secret. She's a hell of a character, just brimming with potential, and I quite appreciated that she wasn't there to "hook up" with anyone. The shot of her striding in slow motion from a crashed spaceship, her trusty sword Dragonfang in hand, towards an army of undead Asgardians, is, as tiresome as this description may be, genuinely epic. Waititi himself turns in an inspired motion-captured cameo as the alien rock character Korg.
Not all of the cast are quite so memorable; Anthony Hopkins returns as Odin, and while his acting here is a genuine improvement over his phoned-in performance in the last film, it still falls far short of his striking turn as the Allfather in the first film. He does have a wickedly funny moment when he's playing Loki playing Odin, but that is all too brief. Also, the talented Karl Urban feels a little wasted as Asgardian ne'er-do-well-turned-henchman Skurge, though he does have a memorable moment involving two M-16 assault rifles. Idris Elba's Heimdall may be sporting a new look and a new sense of purpose, i.e. keeping Asgard's citizens safe from Hela, but he still feels like window-dressing. And the less said about the Warriors Three (Ray Stevenson as Volstagg, Zachary Levi as Fandrall, and Tadanobu Asano as Hogun), the better. Still, there does seem to be some consistency here with the general theme of out with the old, in with the new.
In the end, what's most noteworthy is that this isn't the Thor we have come to know; this is something genuinely, remarkably different, and the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe is very much the better for it.
8.5/10
written by Eric Pearson, Craig Kyle and Christopher Yost
Six years after Marvel Studios introduced Chris Hemsworth to audiences as Thor, the God of Thunder, and four years after the mildly entertaining but ultimately forgettable sequel, indie film director Taika Waititi (Hunt for the Wilderpeople) delivers what many of us may have started to believe we would never see: a truly exceptional Thor movie.
The movie starts out with Thor neutralizing a serious threat to Asgard, only to finally discover the ruse that his brother Loki (Tom Hiddleston) has been maintaining since the end of the last movie: he was pretending to be the Allfather Odin (Anthony Hopkins). Thor and Loki journey to Earth, where they find the real Odin, who informs them of a threat that could consume all of Asgard: the wicked, insanely powerful Hela, who shows up shortly thereafter and, as has been widely seen in the trailers, destroys Thor's hammer. Knowing they are outmatched, Loki has himself and Thor summoned back to Asgard, only for Hela to knock them both out of the Bifrost in mid-transport en route to taking over all of Asgard. Thor finds himself on a strange junk-laden planet called Sakaar, where he is captured by the tough-as-nails, perpetually boozing Valkyrie (Tessa Thompson) who brings him before the planet's loopy despot, the Grandmaster (Jeff Goldblum), with whom Loki has aligned himself. The Grandmaster holds gladiatorial contests between various creatures from across the galaxy for fun, and tells Thor that he may leave, for as long as he defeats his champion. The complication, though, is that this champion happens to be none other than Thor's Avengers teammate the incredible Hulk, who, for some reason has not transformed back into Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo) for quite some time. Thor will have to overcome this challenge, return to Asgard and defeat Hela if he is to have any hope of saving Asgard.
The problem that has bedeviled the Thor standalone franchise since day one has been one of tone. The concept itself, i.e. space Vikings interacting with earthlings is just so inherently ridiculous that it's not really possible to do one of these films with a completely straight face. Kenneth Branagh's first film represented a pretty strong effort to address this problem, but even though the film was a good enough introduction to the character, the tonal problem persisted. The second film seemed content to coast on the success of the first, and of the massive success of The Avengers.
With this film, it genuinely feels as though the brain trust at Marvel sat down with their quirky director and really tried to address the problem, and their solution, which was to turn the absurdity of it up to 11, is a total winner.
I've noticed, reading even the glowing reviews, that there have been a few gripes about how Waititi's off-kilter vision is spoiled by the "generic" superhero aspects of the story, basically lamenting that the whole Hela/Asgard aspect of the film weighs down the wacky joy of Thor's and Hulk's hi-jinks on the planet Sakaar. I basically think they're reading it wrong. Introducing Hela into the story is a natural progression for this particular franchise; anyone with even a passing knowledge of the Thor comic book mythology knows how crucial Hela is to the whole narrative, and goodness knows the fan community had been waiting for her long enough (certainly more than they were for the utterly forgettable Malekith from the second film). In short, bringing Hela to the big screen was always a question not of if, but of when...and HOW. To my mind, having Cate Blanchett breathe life into one of Thor's iconic villains was exactly the way Marvel needed to go, but then there was still the aspect of Ragnarok being a bit of a downer. Make no mistake: as fun as this movie is, Hela gets to be Hela, the goddess of death, and racks up an appropriate body count. Anyone looking to bring small children should bear that in mind; the movie has its fair share of extremely violent moments. Could audiences have sat through two and a half hours of that? Of course not. Marvel might not even have made their coveted PG-13 rating, no matter how bloodless the various skewering scenes may have been.
And that's where Waititi's demented re-imagining of the popular 2006 Hulk story line "Planet Hulk" basically comes in and completely saves the day. It's the perfect counterweight to the grim cataclysm that is Hela, but at the same time would make little to no sense without it. Blanchett's Hela is still a wicked delight but could not have been this enjoyable had we watched her rain terror down upon on our Asgardian heroes throughout the entire film, which is why Sakaar, led by Jeff Goldblum's ultra-zany Grandmaster is exactly what the film needs to balance out that unrelenting grimness. On the other hand, without the urgency of the threat Hela posed, the film would have lost its emotional anchor and the craziness of Sakaar would have just felt a tad arbitrary. A delicate balancing act was required, and Waititi absolutely nailed it. In the 80s-flavored neon-colored Sakaar sequences, even the requisite CGI comes to life in a way that hasn't been seen before. There's a real joy in seeing Thor and Hulk dressed up as gladiators, exchanging some real haymakers; it's what many of us have been yearning for since their very, VERY brief exchange of fisticuffs in The Avengers five long years ago. Also, I'm reasonably confident that the people who remember the mutant dog fight from the disastrous 2003 Hulk solo movie will take joy in seeing the jade giant taking on a giant canine in a fight that's actually entertaining this time.
In discarding both Thor's trademark hammer and long hair, Waititi symbolically discards things the character has long been associated with and effectively severs the entire franchise from narrative slog that could easily have bogged it down with a case of the dreaded threequel-itis. The transformation is more than just physical; Hemsworth takes the opportunity to play Thor very differently from the Shakespeare-esque, tragic figure he cut in the first movie and the square-jawed hero he played in the second. Ironically, this is where Hemsworth gets to let his proverbial hair down, and one can tell he's really having a great time here. He's got great onscreen chemistry with his newfound best bud Hulk, and his alter ego Bruce Banner. Even the normally scene-stealing Hiddleston as Loki takes a step back, playing it a little more straight this time so as to let Hemsworth do his thing, and to my mind, it works like a charm. Speaking of scene-stealers, franchise newcomer Tessa makes a fantastic first impression as the nameless Valkyrie, a legendary warrior with a dark secret. She's a hell of a character, just brimming with potential, and I quite appreciated that she wasn't there to "hook up" with anyone. The shot of her striding in slow motion from a crashed spaceship, her trusty sword Dragonfang in hand, towards an army of undead Asgardians, is, as tiresome as this description may be, genuinely epic. Waititi himself turns in an inspired motion-captured cameo as the alien rock character Korg.
Not all of the cast are quite so memorable; Anthony Hopkins returns as Odin, and while his acting here is a genuine improvement over his phoned-in performance in the last film, it still falls far short of his striking turn as the Allfather in the first film. He does have a wickedly funny moment when he's playing Loki playing Odin, but that is all too brief. Also, the talented Karl Urban feels a little wasted as Asgardian ne'er-do-well-turned-henchman Skurge, though he does have a memorable moment involving two M-16 assault rifles. Idris Elba's Heimdall may be sporting a new look and a new sense of purpose, i.e. keeping Asgard's citizens safe from Hela, but he still feels like window-dressing. And the less said about the Warriors Three (Ray Stevenson as Volstagg, Zachary Levi as Fandrall, and Tadanobu Asano as Hogun), the better. Still, there does seem to be some consistency here with the general theme of out with the old, in with the new.
In the end, what's most noteworthy is that this isn't the Thor we have come to know; this is something genuinely, remarkably different, and the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe is very much the better for it.
8.5/10
Sunday, October 15, 2017
Nothing is Awesome: A Review of the Lego Ninjago Movie
directed by Charlie Bean, Paul Fisher, Bob Logan
written by Too Many People
When The Lego Movie charmed the socks off of moviegoers three years ago, it did so through a combination of colorful, engaging visuals, crackling humor and a generous helping of sincerity. While I didn't see the spinoff/follow-up early this year called The Lego Batman movie, from the reviews and grosses it seems they replicated the formula, albeit to slightly less success. What mattered most, though was that through strong storytelling and heartfelt acting in both cases the filmmakers were able to get audiences to overlook the fact that at the end of the day, both movies were basically hour-and-a-half-long toy commercials.
With The Lego Ninjago Movie, however, they fell fall short of that goal.
Essentially an extended episode of the fairly popular television show on Cartoon Network, The Lego Ninjago movie tells the story of Lloyd (Dave Franco) and his friends the Ninjas (Fred Armisen, Michael Pena, Kumail Nanjiani, Abbi Jacobson and Zach Woods), who protect the city of Ninjago from the evil overlord Garmadon (Justin Theroux) who, in an unpleasant twist, also happens to be Lloyd's father. When Garmadon gets the upper hand on the Ninjas, they will have to dig deep, with the help of their mentor, Master Wu (Jackie Chan) to find the courage to save the day.
It's saddening that, only three movies in, the brain trust behind The Lego Movie has run out of steam creatively. The Lego Movie may have been ultimately geared toward selling toys, but at least back then they recognized that to get fannies in the seats, they had to tell a good story too. That wisdom appears to have been completely thrown out the window here. Save for a few jokes here and there about the nature of Lego pieces and despite the mightiest efforts of voice actors Franco and Theroux, the film is virtually devoid of wit and, even worse, of any heart. I mean, for crying out loud, when every henchman screams the oft-derided "Wilhelm" scream, one can't help but feel the filmmakers are basically on autopilot. I wasn't turned off so much by the lack of craft, because truth be told, there is still quite a bit of production value on display here. Rather, I was really just struck by the cynicism that pervades this film. It's really all about the bottom line, and there's barely any pretense to the contrary.
Each "Ninja" trots around in an elaborate Lego "mech" which is currently on sale at your favorite toy store. Basically, they couldn't have screamed "we want your cash" any louder if they'd actually written it into the dialogue.
My metaphorical hat goes off to Franco, Theroux and the motley cast of comedians WB cast for trying their darnedest to give some personality to this crassly commercial undertaking, but honestly, not even A-listers like Will Ferrell or Will Arnett could have saved this thing.
5.5/10
written by Too Many People
When The Lego Movie charmed the socks off of moviegoers three years ago, it did so through a combination of colorful, engaging visuals, crackling humor and a generous helping of sincerity. While I didn't see the spinoff/follow-up early this year called The Lego Batman movie, from the reviews and grosses it seems they replicated the formula, albeit to slightly less success. What mattered most, though was that through strong storytelling and heartfelt acting in both cases the filmmakers were able to get audiences to overlook the fact that at the end of the day, both movies were basically hour-and-a-half-long toy commercials.
With The Lego Ninjago Movie, however, they fell fall short of that goal.
Essentially an extended episode of the fairly popular television show on Cartoon Network, The Lego Ninjago movie tells the story of Lloyd (Dave Franco) and his friends the Ninjas (Fred Armisen, Michael Pena, Kumail Nanjiani, Abbi Jacobson and Zach Woods), who protect the city of Ninjago from the evil overlord Garmadon (Justin Theroux) who, in an unpleasant twist, also happens to be Lloyd's father. When Garmadon gets the upper hand on the Ninjas, they will have to dig deep, with the help of their mentor, Master Wu (Jackie Chan) to find the courage to save the day.
It's saddening that, only three movies in, the brain trust behind The Lego Movie has run out of steam creatively. The Lego Movie may have been ultimately geared toward selling toys, but at least back then they recognized that to get fannies in the seats, they had to tell a good story too. That wisdom appears to have been completely thrown out the window here. Save for a few jokes here and there about the nature of Lego pieces and despite the mightiest efforts of voice actors Franco and Theroux, the film is virtually devoid of wit and, even worse, of any heart. I mean, for crying out loud, when every henchman screams the oft-derided "Wilhelm" scream, one can't help but feel the filmmakers are basically on autopilot. I wasn't turned off so much by the lack of craft, because truth be told, there is still quite a bit of production value on display here. Rather, I was really just struck by the cynicism that pervades this film. It's really all about the bottom line, and there's barely any pretense to the contrary.
Each "Ninja" trots around in an elaborate Lego "mech" which is currently on sale at your favorite toy store. Basically, they couldn't have screamed "we want your cash" any louder if they'd actually written it into the dialogue.
My metaphorical hat goes off to Franco, Theroux and the motley cast of comedians WB cast for trying their darnedest to give some personality to this crassly commercial undertaking, but honestly, not even A-listers like Will Ferrell or Will Arnett could have saved this thing.
5.5/10
Saturday, August 26, 2017
Tearing Up Amsterdam: A Review of The Hitman's Bodyguard
directed by Patrick Hughes
written by Tom O'Connor
Some time ago, somebody came up with the bright idea to cast Samuel L. Jackson as a foul-mouthed hitman in a buddy movie which featured a conversation about Amsterdam called Pulp Fiction, which turned out to be a brilliant movie. Twenty-odd years later, Jackson has been cast in yet another buddy movie as a foul-mouthed hitman, this time actually in Amsterdam, alongside Ryan Reynolds, star of the wildly successful Deadpool and therefore no stranger to hyper-violent, foul-mouthed action movies himself. What could possibly go wrong? As it turns out, plenty.
Reynolds plays Michael Bryce, a former Central Intelligence Agency operative who, at the beginning of the film, runs his own very successful personal protection service until one of his prized clients, a Japanese arms dealer, is killed just as his plane is about to take off. Years later, Michael is accepting whatever work he can find to eke out a living, albeit still a very dangerous one. His ex-girlfriend Amelia (Elodie Yung), who works at Interpol, has just been assigned to escort infamous hitman Darius Kincaid (Samuel L. Jackson) a key witness in the trial of the despotic Belarusian President Dukhovich (Gary Oldman), from his prison in England to the Hague in the Netherlands, where he is set to testify in exchange for the freedom of his wife Sonia (Salma Hayek). When her convoy is ambushed and her entire detail wiped out, she can only think of one man up to the task of bringing Kincaid to the trial alive.
The problem of this film is essentially one of tone. I read it was conceived originally as a drama and then re-purposed into a comedy (which, let's face it, with a title like that, was the only way to go), and it shows. The film features gut-wrenching violence but, unlike Reynolds' Deadpool, which had its tongue firmly in its cheek the whole time, alternates between comedy and utter seriousness and fails to juggle the two. The problem is that the "serious" stuff feels like it was done in extremely bad taste; the bad guy's use of a truck bomb at a time when vehicles have been repeatedly used as tools of terrorist attacks feels utterly insensitive, and even the violence that was supposed to be vaguely funny like Ryan Reynolds' Bryce being tortured by jumper cables attached to a wet towel around his head, just wasn't. Also, if the drastically shifting tone was meant to be some kind of storytelling innovation, it fell short of the mark, especially considering the number of action movie cliches director Patrick Hughes and screenwriter Tom O'Connor leaned on throughout the film. Jackson's and Reynolds' onscreen chemistry is the only bright spot in this film, but even that feels weighed down by a horrible script. Clearly these guys were just hired to trot out Jules-lite and Deadpool-lite, and they delivered on that front, even though their performances felt like poor facsimiles of their best work. Jackson quite literally recycled on one of his lines from Pulp Fiction, quite possibly at the urging of the director.
It was really quite disappointing, especially since I walked into this movie with minimal expectations and largely on the strength of the marketing, which made hilarious parodies of the Kevin Costner-Whitney Houston smash hit from 1992, The Bodyguard, ranging from the extensive use of Houston's cover of "I Will Always Love You" in the trailers to a movie poster which replicated the one from the older movie, except with Reynolds carrying Jackson. The thing is, every now and again there are flashes of the movie I was hoping to see when I walked in; sometimes the humor works, and some of the action sequences are pretty interesting, particularly an extended chase scene involving a speed boat, SUVs and a motorcycle. But it's all weighed down by the "serious" plot which is premised on the notion that prosecutor of the International Criminal Court is a complete moron who would pin all his hopes for convicting Dukhovich on a single witness, as well as the numerous eye-roll inducing cliches peppered throughout the story.
Clearly, though, Reynolds and Jackson were in it for the paycheck; here's hoping that they get back to making good movies soon.
5/10
written by Tom O'Connor
Some time ago, somebody came up with the bright idea to cast Samuel L. Jackson as a foul-mouthed hitman in a buddy movie which featured a conversation about Amsterdam called Pulp Fiction, which turned out to be a brilliant movie. Twenty-odd years later, Jackson has been cast in yet another buddy movie as a foul-mouthed hitman, this time actually in Amsterdam, alongside Ryan Reynolds, star of the wildly successful Deadpool and therefore no stranger to hyper-violent, foul-mouthed action movies himself. What could possibly go wrong? As it turns out, plenty.
Reynolds plays Michael Bryce, a former Central Intelligence Agency operative who, at the beginning of the film, runs his own very successful personal protection service until one of his prized clients, a Japanese arms dealer, is killed just as his plane is about to take off. Years later, Michael is accepting whatever work he can find to eke out a living, albeit still a very dangerous one. His ex-girlfriend Amelia (Elodie Yung), who works at Interpol, has just been assigned to escort infamous hitman Darius Kincaid (Samuel L. Jackson) a key witness in the trial of the despotic Belarusian President Dukhovich (Gary Oldman), from his prison in England to the Hague in the Netherlands, where he is set to testify in exchange for the freedom of his wife Sonia (Salma Hayek). When her convoy is ambushed and her entire detail wiped out, she can only think of one man up to the task of bringing Kincaid to the trial alive.
The problem of this film is essentially one of tone. I read it was conceived originally as a drama and then re-purposed into a comedy (which, let's face it, with a title like that, was the only way to go), and it shows. The film features gut-wrenching violence but, unlike Reynolds' Deadpool, which had its tongue firmly in its cheek the whole time, alternates between comedy and utter seriousness and fails to juggle the two. The problem is that the "serious" stuff feels like it was done in extremely bad taste; the bad guy's use of a truck bomb at a time when vehicles have been repeatedly used as tools of terrorist attacks feels utterly insensitive, and even the violence that was supposed to be vaguely funny like Ryan Reynolds' Bryce being tortured by jumper cables attached to a wet towel around his head, just wasn't. Also, if the drastically shifting tone was meant to be some kind of storytelling innovation, it fell short of the mark, especially considering the number of action movie cliches director Patrick Hughes and screenwriter Tom O'Connor leaned on throughout the film. Jackson's and Reynolds' onscreen chemistry is the only bright spot in this film, but even that feels weighed down by a horrible script. Clearly these guys were just hired to trot out Jules-lite and Deadpool-lite, and they delivered on that front, even though their performances felt like poor facsimiles of their best work. Jackson quite literally recycled on one of his lines from Pulp Fiction, quite possibly at the urging of the director.
It was really quite disappointing, especially since I walked into this movie with minimal expectations and largely on the strength of the marketing, which made hilarious parodies of the Kevin Costner-Whitney Houston smash hit from 1992, The Bodyguard, ranging from the extensive use of Houston's cover of "I Will Always Love You" in the trailers to a movie poster which replicated the one from the older movie, except with Reynolds carrying Jackson. The thing is, every now and again there are flashes of the movie I was hoping to see when I walked in; sometimes the humor works, and some of the action sequences are pretty interesting, particularly an extended chase scene involving a speed boat, SUVs and a motorcycle. But it's all weighed down by the "serious" plot which is premised on the notion that prosecutor of the International Criminal Court is a complete moron who would pin all his hopes for convicting Dukhovich on a single witness, as well as the numerous eye-roll inducing cliches peppered throughout the story.
Clearly, though, Reynolds and Jackson were in it for the paycheck; here's hoping that they get back to making good movies soon.
5/10
Wednesday, August 9, 2017
Why "Kita Kita" COULD Be Interpreted as a Glamorization of Stalking...But SHOULDN'T Be (MASSIVE SPOILER ALERT)
Again...SPOILER ALERT for Kita Kita. This is your last chance to turn back if you haven't seen the film and refuse to have any detail spoiled.
Okay, you've been warned.
Having thoroughly enjoyed the flawed but engaging film "Kita Kita" I was a little surprised to learn of opinions being expressed that the film condoned stalking, with one writer even saying something like it was a mystery that intelligent people failed to realize that the film basically glorified it.
Having given the matter some thought, I can see where the criticism is coming from.
As an ode to the healing power of human kindness, the film really just sang to me, but as a love story, as much as I enjoyed most of it, I am ready to admit there are some moments that didn't always sit well with me.
I wasn't all that crazy about Tonyo, the character played by Empoy Marquez, being touchy-feely with the blind Lea played by Alessandra de Rossi. At no point in the film do the characters kiss, nor does Tonyo ever do anything grossly inappropriate, but in my opinion he pushed past acceptable personal boundaries more than once during their dates, before Lea warmed up to him. I get that there was this aspect of him testing the waters to see what he could get away with, hence the colloquial term "chancing" we use in the Philippines to describe someone trying to cop a feel from the object of their affection, but yes, I can see how that would be interpreted negatively, in the same way that, while I get why he thought it was okay to stare at Lea during their train ride (a scene that paid off in a joke about how she knew he was doing it, even though she was blind), I also get why this would be off-putting to many. Finally, considering that Lea basically didn't know him from Adam, it didn't really sit well with me that Tonyo felt he had to completely lie about his being new to Japan, when in fact it was revealed that he had been working there for an appreciable length of time.
In short, there is some evidence to justify this conclusion, and in truth, the film may have been better served without those little character quirks.
I respectfully object, however, to the notion that the film glorifies stalking, and I can cite four specific scenes in the film that were very deliberately written, precisely to make this point that Tonyo isn't just some sicko:
1. After Tonyo's death and when Lea discovers the contents of his small apartment, she learns that he has folded one thousand paper cranes, a reference to a line Lea dropped very early in the film in which she, a tour guide, told tourists that folding one thousand paper cranes supposedly grants people one wish. This scene, for at least one writer, is the moment when the "creepiness" supposedly starts, but I honestly didn't see it that way. In fact, when Lea reads the late Tonyo's letter informing her that he has just folded his thousandth crane and has wished for her to recover her sight, this is easily one of his more selfless moments, and not because he could have wished for something for himself.
Up until the time she saw him, Lea had no idea who Tonyo really was, and this worked to his advantage, an advantage that would have been in his interest to maintain for as long as he could considering that, although she had actually seen him several times before she went blind, they had never actually spoken. He would not have benefited at all from her being able to see him; he had already won, to some degree, her affection at that point and had she recognized him as someone she had seen many times before she might not have taken so kindly to him. In short, Tonyo had nothing to gain from Lea being able to see again and even potentially everything to lose, and yet he wished for it more than anything else.
2. When Tonyo, who has cleaned up and now wants to introduce himself properly to Lea, contemplates walking up to her in the park, he rehearses a proposed greeting: "Hi, I'm Tonyo," and then balks, concerned that he'll sound like a pervert ("parang manyak"). This could arguably go either way, given that he could just be concerned with appearances and nothing more, but in line with the other things he does in the film I think it's a sign of both his sincerity and the writer's awareness of how his character might be received. Basically, the writer indulges in a slightly "meta" moment to reassure the audience that, no, her male lead is not some kind of sexual deviant.
3. There is an utterly gratuitous scene in which Lea, still half-asleep, stumbles to the door in her t-shirt and underwear in response to Tonyo knocking. This is a perfect opportunity for Tonyo to ogle her long, shapely legs, considering she is blind and would be none the wiser, but he immediately turns around and then points out to her that she has no pants. In hindsight, I think this scene served literally no other purpose than to emphasize that Tonyo is NOT a degenerate.
4. Arguably the strongest argument against Tonyo being a creep is the scene in which he and Lea are inebriated, and in which Lea actually initiates romantic contact with Tonyo. If Tonyo were the full-on monster that the detractors of this film seem to claim he is, this exact moment should basically have been the jackpot for him. This should have been payoff time; the girl of his dreams is in his apartment, drunk, and now pawing at him. While she teases him about having evil intentions, it is she who ultimately starts kissing him. Were Tonyo's intentions truly despicable he would have basically gone for the proverbial gold, or at the very least stolen a kiss. I can think of quite a few movies, local and foreign, in which a moment like this would have been a moment for the leads to kiss, but it doesn't happen here. Does Tonyo deserve a medal for his restraint? Maybe not, but I'd argue he at least deserves the benefit of the doubt.
Whatever else Tonyo's quirks, I honestly think those four moments put firm emphasis on the true nature of his character, and while he is certainly flawed and certainly not above appreciating Lea's striking beauty (i.e. the staring scene), ultimately, his motives are pure.
Overall, it's not a perfect film. As I said, as a straight-up love story, the film has its fair share of problems, but as a fable about the beauty and power of human kindness, it really is an exceptional yarn.
Okay, you've been warned.
Having thoroughly enjoyed the flawed but engaging film "Kita Kita" I was a little surprised to learn of opinions being expressed that the film condoned stalking, with one writer even saying something like it was a mystery that intelligent people failed to realize that the film basically glorified it.
Having given the matter some thought, I can see where the criticism is coming from.
As an ode to the healing power of human kindness, the film really just sang to me, but as a love story, as much as I enjoyed most of it, I am ready to admit there are some moments that didn't always sit well with me.
I wasn't all that crazy about Tonyo, the character played by Empoy Marquez, being touchy-feely with the blind Lea played by Alessandra de Rossi. At no point in the film do the characters kiss, nor does Tonyo ever do anything grossly inappropriate, but in my opinion he pushed past acceptable personal boundaries more than once during their dates, before Lea warmed up to him. I get that there was this aspect of him testing the waters to see what he could get away with, hence the colloquial term "chancing" we use in the Philippines to describe someone trying to cop a feel from the object of their affection, but yes, I can see how that would be interpreted negatively, in the same way that, while I get why he thought it was okay to stare at Lea during their train ride (a scene that paid off in a joke about how she knew he was doing it, even though she was blind), I also get why this would be off-putting to many. Finally, considering that Lea basically didn't know him from Adam, it didn't really sit well with me that Tonyo felt he had to completely lie about his being new to Japan, when in fact it was revealed that he had been working there for an appreciable length of time.
In short, there is some evidence to justify this conclusion, and in truth, the film may have been better served without those little character quirks.
I respectfully object, however, to the notion that the film glorifies stalking, and I can cite four specific scenes in the film that were very deliberately written, precisely to make this point that Tonyo isn't just some sicko:
1. After Tonyo's death and when Lea discovers the contents of his small apartment, she learns that he has folded one thousand paper cranes, a reference to a line Lea dropped very early in the film in which she, a tour guide, told tourists that folding one thousand paper cranes supposedly grants people one wish. This scene, for at least one writer, is the moment when the "creepiness" supposedly starts, but I honestly didn't see it that way. In fact, when Lea reads the late Tonyo's letter informing her that he has just folded his thousandth crane and has wished for her to recover her sight, this is easily one of his more selfless moments, and not because he could have wished for something for himself.
Up until the time she saw him, Lea had no idea who Tonyo really was, and this worked to his advantage, an advantage that would have been in his interest to maintain for as long as he could considering that, although she had actually seen him several times before she went blind, they had never actually spoken. He would not have benefited at all from her being able to see him; he had already won, to some degree, her affection at that point and had she recognized him as someone she had seen many times before she might not have taken so kindly to him. In short, Tonyo had nothing to gain from Lea being able to see again and even potentially everything to lose, and yet he wished for it more than anything else.
2. When Tonyo, who has cleaned up and now wants to introduce himself properly to Lea, contemplates walking up to her in the park, he rehearses a proposed greeting: "Hi, I'm Tonyo," and then balks, concerned that he'll sound like a pervert ("parang manyak"). This could arguably go either way, given that he could just be concerned with appearances and nothing more, but in line with the other things he does in the film I think it's a sign of both his sincerity and the writer's awareness of how his character might be received. Basically, the writer indulges in a slightly "meta" moment to reassure the audience that, no, her male lead is not some kind of sexual deviant.
3. There is an utterly gratuitous scene in which Lea, still half-asleep, stumbles to the door in her t-shirt and underwear in response to Tonyo knocking. This is a perfect opportunity for Tonyo to ogle her long, shapely legs, considering she is blind and would be none the wiser, but he immediately turns around and then points out to her that she has no pants. In hindsight, I think this scene served literally no other purpose than to emphasize that Tonyo is NOT a degenerate.
4. Arguably the strongest argument against Tonyo being a creep is the scene in which he and Lea are inebriated, and in which Lea actually initiates romantic contact with Tonyo. If Tonyo were the full-on monster that the detractors of this film seem to claim he is, this exact moment should basically have been the jackpot for him. This should have been payoff time; the girl of his dreams is in his apartment, drunk, and now pawing at him. While she teases him about having evil intentions, it is she who ultimately starts kissing him. Were Tonyo's intentions truly despicable he would have basically gone for the proverbial gold, or at the very least stolen a kiss. I can think of quite a few movies, local and foreign, in which a moment like this would have been a moment for the leads to kiss, but it doesn't happen here. Does Tonyo deserve a medal for his restraint? Maybe not, but I'd argue he at least deserves the benefit of the doubt.
Whatever else Tonyo's quirks, I honestly think those four moments put firm emphasis on the true nature of his character, and while he is certainly flawed and certainly not above appreciating Lea's striking beauty (i.e. the staring scene), ultimately, his motives are pure.
Overall, it's not a perfect film. As I said, as a straight-up love story, the film has its fair share of problems, but as a fable about the beauty and power of human kindness, it really is an exceptional yarn.
Friday, August 4, 2017
Sharing Sinigang in Sapporo: A Review of Kita Kita
written and directed by Sigrid Andrea Bernardo
I haven't done the math, but I'm reasonably certain that in the 100-plus years or so that movies have existed as a medium of storytelling, a healthy percentage of the stories told have been love stories of one kind or another, which means that anyone looking to tell such a story will almost certainly never be able to tell a story that hasn't been told before. That's why I applaud even just an effort to tell a different love story, which is certainly what Sigrid Andrea Bernardo and her dedicated cast and crew have done with the charming romantic comedy Kita Kita.
Lea (Alessandra de Rossi) a young Filipina living and working as a tour guide in Sapporo, Japan, has trouble getting her longtime fiance Nobu to actually commit to a wedding date. He has made a habit out of forgetting their anniversary and frequently standing her up. She learns, to her shock, that this is because he's cheating on her with another woman, and the discovery proves too much for her to bear; she literally goes blind from the stress. Not too long thereafter, Lea is sitting quietly on the terrace outside her house when she is visited by her neighbor, fellow Filipino Tonyo (Empoy Marquez) who, after being repeatedly rebuffed by her, manages to befriend Lea. His multiple attempts to get her to eat his FIlipino cooking finally succeed when she agrees to eat his sour broth, or sinigang, as we call it in the vernacular. As Lea takes Tonyo, who is new to Sapporo, to the many places to go, their friendship helps bring back some light into the darkness that has shrouded Lea's life, and she finds that she may yet love again.
If the plot description reads like a bunch of romantic story tropes strung together to form yet another tired old romantic comedy, then good; the best way to watch this movie is to go in thinking you know exactly what's going to happen, only to find out that you don't.
The first thing that really struck me about this movie was how utterly authentic it felt, and this was down to Bernardo's writing and some winning lead actors in De Rossi and Marquez. De Rossi, dubbed by some writers as the "Indie Film Queen" really shines in movies like this, and despite her towering stature and striking good looks, she projects her characters as being very down to earth. Marquez, who up until this point has basically made a career out of being somebody else's sidekick or comic relief, finally comes into his own as Tonyo, the broken-English speaking Filipino overseas worker who has more in common with de Rossi's Lea than she realizes at first. Their time together onscreen is most of the movie's running time, and they make good use of it thanks to some wonderful dialogue by Bernardo (though one wonders if Marquez did a bit of improv considering his comedy background), and some palpable chemistry. The foreign setting definitely helps, as it helps highlight the sense of loneliness both characters feel so far away from home, and although Bernardo certainly isn't the first writer to adopt this particular backdrop, she uses it very effectively.
More than just tell yet another love story, though, Bernardo weaves a touching tale about the healing power of kindness. It's not quite groundbreaking and in fact it's the second movie I've seen in a fortnight or so using non-linear storytelling, but as someone I know observed Bernardo makes very good use of her storytelling technique. She's very efficient; almost every little detail early in the story pays off in the end, and it all ties up remarkably well. There are seams in the production, though, and one pivotal scene I can think of wasn't presented very artfully. Furthermore, while I get that the director probably chose the song because she liked it, I found her use of Air Supply's "Two Less Lonely People" at key points of the movie to be distinctly cloying and manipulative, a pet peeve of mine, especially in movies meant to evoke a strong emotional response. The narrative, I honestly think, could have held up on its own without it, and a proper score should have been employed instead, or better yet, perhaps an original Filipino composition.
Still, this movie, which had initially been slated for release in a film festival, was a surprisingly sweet confection, and it deserves the success it is garnering right now. May there be many movies made with the same sensibility and production value on display here.
8.5/10
I haven't done the math, but I'm reasonably certain that in the 100-plus years or so that movies have existed as a medium of storytelling, a healthy percentage of the stories told have been love stories of one kind or another, which means that anyone looking to tell such a story will almost certainly never be able to tell a story that hasn't been told before. That's why I applaud even just an effort to tell a different love story, which is certainly what Sigrid Andrea Bernardo and her dedicated cast and crew have done with the charming romantic comedy Kita Kita.
Lea (Alessandra de Rossi) a young Filipina living and working as a tour guide in Sapporo, Japan, has trouble getting her longtime fiance Nobu to actually commit to a wedding date. He has made a habit out of forgetting their anniversary and frequently standing her up. She learns, to her shock, that this is because he's cheating on her with another woman, and the discovery proves too much for her to bear; she literally goes blind from the stress. Not too long thereafter, Lea is sitting quietly on the terrace outside her house when she is visited by her neighbor, fellow Filipino Tonyo (Empoy Marquez) who, after being repeatedly rebuffed by her, manages to befriend Lea. His multiple attempts to get her to eat his FIlipino cooking finally succeed when she agrees to eat his sour broth, or sinigang, as we call it in the vernacular. As Lea takes Tonyo, who is new to Sapporo, to the many places to go, their friendship helps bring back some light into the darkness that has shrouded Lea's life, and she finds that she may yet love again.
If the plot description reads like a bunch of romantic story tropes strung together to form yet another tired old romantic comedy, then good; the best way to watch this movie is to go in thinking you know exactly what's going to happen, only to find out that you don't.
The first thing that really struck me about this movie was how utterly authentic it felt, and this was down to Bernardo's writing and some winning lead actors in De Rossi and Marquez. De Rossi, dubbed by some writers as the "Indie Film Queen" really shines in movies like this, and despite her towering stature and striking good looks, she projects her characters as being very down to earth. Marquez, who up until this point has basically made a career out of being somebody else's sidekick or comic relief, finally comes into his own as Tonyo, the broken-English speaking Filipino overseas worker who has more in common with de Rossi's Lea than she realizes at first. Their time together onscreen is most of the movie's running time, and they make good use of it thanks to some wonderful dialogue by Bernardo (though one wonders if Marquez did a bit of improv considering his comedy background), and some palpable chemistry. The foreign setting definitely helps, as it helps highlight the sense of loneliness both characters feel so far away from home, and although Bernardo certainly isn't the first writer to adopt this particular backdrop, she uses it very effectively.
More than just tell yet another love story, though, Bernardo weaves a touching tale about the healing power of kindness. It's not quite groundbreaking and in fact it's the second movie I've seen in a fortnight or so using non-linear storytelling, but as someone I know observed Bernardo makes very good use of her storytelling technique. She's very efficient; almost every little detail early in the story pays off in the end, and it all ties up remarkably well. There are seams in the production, though, and one pivotal scene I can think of wasn't presented very artfully. Furthermore, while I get that the director probably chose the song because she liked it, I found her use of Air Supply's "Two Less Lonely People" at key points of the movie to be distinctly cloying and manipulative, a pet peeve of mine, especially in movies meant to evoke a strong emotional response. The narrative, I honestly think, could have held up on its own without it, and a proper score should have been employed instead, or better yet, perhaps an original Filipino composition.
Still, this movie, which had initially been slated for release in a film festival, was a surprisingly sweet confection, and it deserves the success it is garnering right now. May there be many movies made with the same sensibility and production value on display here.
8.5/10
Sunday, July 23, 2017
When Heroism Rises Above Horror: A Review of Dunkirk
written and directed by Christopher Nolan
Dunkirk is one of those movies that only a filmmaker with huge balls would be able to make, considering that, unlike most of the successful movies that have been made about World War II in the last 70 years, it doesn't a) feature Americans, b) depict a decisive military victory, or c) make any mention of the Holocaust. While the evacuation of Dunkirk in 1940 is probably known only to WWII buffs and very studious Brits, thanks to this movie, that's all set to change.
The film tells the story of the evacuation of Dunkirk, albeit from three perspectives, that of the soldiers awaiting evacuation on the French coast, desperate to get home, as represented by the travails of Tommy (Fionn Whitehead), his silent companion Gibson (Aneurin Barnard) and Alex (Harry Styles), that of members of the Royal Air Force out to protect the evacuees, namely Farrier (Tom Hardy), Collins (Jack Lowden) and their unnamed squad leader (played by Michael Caine's voice), and that of the civilians whose boats were requisitioned by the English government to rescue the trapped English soldiers, represented by Mr. Dawson (Mark Rylance), his son Peter (Tom Glynn-Carney) and Peter's friend George (Barry Keogh). Their stories are told in three separate but ultimately interweaving narrative threads. Kenneth Branagh also stars as Commander Bolton, who supervises the evacuation from the Dunkirk pier and who also provides some pretty convenient exposition, such as an explanation of why the British Navy can't just swoop in and save the 400,000 English soldiers stranded on the beach (the short version: the waters are too shallow for big ships).
In telling this simple story, Nolan brings his considerable visual storytelling prowess to bear, establishing the urgency of the situation right out of the gate with a superb first few minutes that show the squad of soldiers to which Tommy originally belonged get wiped out by unseen German shooters. He may not have invented the split narrative technique, but he uses it to astonishing effect here, as he ratchets up the tension with each passing moment, especially given that the three narratives are out of sync with one another. Each set of protagonists, while all caught up in the same overarching event, faces different perils. The soldiers on the beach try desperately to get off the beach, only to fail several times, the pilots must ever be mindful of both enemy planes and their limited fuel loads, while Mr. Dawson and his two companions are basically sailing into hostile territory with nothing more than Mr. Dawson's experience and their collective grit.
The payoff of narratives like this is seeing everything eventually tie together, which it all does in fine fashion.
This film has been hailed by many critics as the greatest war movie ever, as while I'll certainly join them in their praises for the most part, I wouldn't go quite so far to say "the greatest," especially since the yardstick cited is the seminal Saving Private Ryan.
The film does an incredible job of conveying tension during wartime while eschewing the gore and usual shots of people getting riddled with bullets, but where it falls slightly short for me is in convincing me why I should root for Tommy in particular to "get away" considering there are hundreds of thousands of soldiers in similar straits to his. I get that, in contrast to the Spitfire pilots and the civilians coming to the rescue, the soldiers scurrying to get home are basically everymen, not really "heroes" in the traditional sense, but there is something important about feeling a connection to these soldiers, wanting to see them safe from harm. "Good show, lads," an elderly gentleman says to two of the soldiers who made it home, to which one replies, "all we did was come home." Because all the soldiers are just "coming home," this emphasizes the importance of being able to connect with them, which, for some reason, I did not. Tommy is depicted as a would-be queue-jumper who says precious little, and I don't know whether it's down to newcomer Whitehead's muted acting or Nolan failing to flesh out the character, but truth be told I didn't really see myself cheering him on any more than the thousands of others who needed saving. I felt similarly indifferent towards Harry Styles's Alex, but at least he showed some kind of self-awareness towards the end.
The accusation that the film does not have an emotional core does not feel valid, but I think it's fair to say that there's some deficiency in its emotional heft. Maybe someone like Asa Butterfield or Tom Holland would have done a better job with the character, and to my mind the mere fact that the character doesn't have much dialogue shouldn't have been a barrier to him generating some kind of emotional resonance with the audience, independent of the sheer magnitude of what was happening to him.
Speaking of young actors, I was genuinely annoyed by Keogh, who basically mumbled all of his lines.
Also, I wasn't a fan of Hans Zimmer's virtually omnipresent music score, which Nolan clearly leaned on quite heavily to help him create tension, sometimes at instances where it really wasn't necessary. Anyone who claims that Spielberg leaned on sentimentality to manipulate the audience in Saving Private Ryan should also consider that the throbbing, frequently overbearing score by Zimmer is used to similar effect in this movie. It's not unlike how Alfonso Cuaron used Steven Price's music in Gravity, but in that film the music substituted for sounds that could not be heard in the vacuum of space, while here the music being pounded into my skull just felt like overkill.
Those nitpicks aside, I was a big fan of the performances of Rylance, Hardy, Lowden, Cillian Murphy as a PTSD-afflicted soldier, the exposition-spouting Branagh, and even James D'Arcy, who has a small role as an Army Commander and basically gives Branagh's Bolton someone to whom he can explain everything that needs explaining. This is the most British that a Hollywood blockbuster has even been outside of Harry Potter-related movie, and the quality of the acting (for the most part) benefits from it.
As WWII movies go, this is definitely one of the best, and will certainly be regarded as a definitive dramatization of what happened during the Dunkirk evacuation.
8.5/10
Dunkirk is one of those movies that only a filmmaker with huge balls would be able to make, considering that, unlike most of the successful movies that have been made about World War II in the last 70 years, it doesn't a) feature Americans, b) depict a decisive military victory, or c) make any mention of the Holocaust. While the evacuation of Dunkirk in 1940 is probably known only to WWII buffs and very studious Brits, thanks to this movie, that's all set to change.
The film tells the story of the evacuation of Dunkirk, albeit from three perspectives, that of the soldiers awaiting evacuation on the French coast, desperate to get home, as represented by the travails of Tommy (Fionn Whitehead), his silent companion Gibson (Aneurin Barnard) and Alex (Harry Styles), that of members of the Royal Air Force out to protect the evacuees, namely Farrier (Tom Hardy), Collins (Jack Lowden) and their unnamed squad leader (played by Michael Caine's voice), and that of the civilians whose boats were requisitioned by the English government to rescue the trapped English soldiers, represented by Mr. Dawson (Mark Rylance), his son Peter (Tom Glynn-Carney) and Peter's friend George (Barry Keogh). Their stories are told in three separate but ultimately interweaving narrative threads. Kenneth Branagh also stars as Commander Bolton, who supervises the evacuation from the Dunkirk pier and who also provides some pretty convenient exposition, such as an explanation of why the British Navy can't just swoop in and save the 400,000 English soldiers stranded on the beach (the short version: the waters are too shallow for big ships).
In telling this simple story, Nolan brings his considerable visual storytelling prowess to bear, establishing the urgency of the situation right out of the gate with a superb first few minutes that show the squad of soldiers to which Tommy originally belonged get wiped out by unseen German shooters. He may not have invented the split narrative technique, but he uses it to astonishing effect here, as he ratchets up the tension with each passing moment, especially given that the three narratives are out of sync with one another. Each set of protagonists, while all caught up in the same overarching event, faces different perils. The soldiers on the beach try desperately to get off the beach, only to fail several times, the pilots must ever be mindful of both enemy planes and their limited fuel loads, while Mr. Dawson and his two companions are basically sailing into hostile territory with nothing more than Mr. Dawson's experience and their collective grit.
The payoff of narratives like this is seeing everything eventually tie together, which it all does in fine fashion.
This film has been hailed by many critics as the greatest war movie ever, as while I'll certainly join them in their praises for the most part, I wouldn't go quite so far to say "the greatest," especially since the yardstick cited is the seminal Saving Private Ryan.
The film does an incredible job of conveying tension during wartime while eschewing the gore and usual shots of people getting riddled with bullets, but where it falls slightly short for me is in convincing me why I should root for Tommy in particular to "get away" considering there are hundreds of thousands of soldiers in similar straits to his. I get that, in contrast to the Spitfire pilots and the civilians coming to the rescue, the soldiers scurrying to get home are basically everymen, not really "heroes" in the traditional sense, but there is something important about feeling a connection to these soldiers, wanting to see them safe from harm. "Good show, lads," an elderly gentleman says to two of the soldiers who made it home, to which one replies, "all we did was come home." Because all the soldiers are just "coming home," this emphasizes the importance of being able to connect with them, which, for some reason, I did not. Tommy is depicted as a would-be queue-jumper who says precious little, and I don't know whether it's down to newcomer Whitehead's muted acting or Nolan failing to flesh out the character, but truth be told I didn't really see myself cheering him on any more than the thousands of others who needed saving. I felt similarly indifferent towards Harry Styles's Alex, but at least he showed some kind of self-awareness towards the end.
The accusation that the film does not have an emotional core does not feel valid, but I think it's fair to say that there's some deficiency in its emotional heft. Maybe someone like Asa Butterfield or Tom Holland would have done a better job with the character, and to my mind the mere fact that the character doesn't have much dialogue shouldn't have been a barrier to him generating some kind of emotional resonance with the audience, independent of the sheer magnitude of what was happening to him.
Speaking of young actors, I was genuinely annoyed by Keogh, who basically mumbled all of his lines.
Also, I wasn't a fan of Hans Zimmer's virtually omnipresent music score, which Nolan clearly leaned on quite heavily to help him create tension, sometimes at instances where it really wasn't necessary. Anyone who claims that Spielberg leaned on sentimentality to manipulate the audience in Saving Private Ryan should also consider that the throbbing, frequently overbearing score by Zimmer is used to similar effect in this movie. It's not unlike how Alfonso Cuaron used Steven Price's music in Gravity, but in that film the music substituted for sounds that could not be heard in the vacuum of space, while here the music being pounded into my skull just felt like overkill.
Those nitpicks aside, I was a big fan of the performances of Rylance, Hardy, Lowden, Cillian Murphy as a PTSD-afflicted soldier, the exposition-spouting Branagh, and even James D'Arcy, who has a small role as an Army Commander and basically gives Branagh's Bolton someone to whom he can explain everything that needs explaining. This is the most British that a Hollywood blockbuster has even been outside of Harry Potter-related movie, and the quality of the acting (for the most part) benefits from it.
As WWII movies go, this is definitely one of the best, and will certainly be regarded as a definitive dramatization of what happened during the Dunkirk evacuation.
8.5/10
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