The Bad Seed

** out of ****

I wanted to like this film. As a fan of evil kid movies and the horror genre in general, I was told that this one was an essential viewing. After watching it, I can neither deny nor agree that it is, in any way, essential. It is historical for popularizing a trend in cinema that is still kind of trendy today (see “Orphan” and the mediocre “The Omen” remake) and regardless of what I think of it, the film will always resonate with a certain group of people. My problems with “The Bad Seed” don’t stem from any negative preconceptions I might have towards these evil child movies; they are typically mean-spirited (but aren’t most horror films?) and unsettling. And it’s often difficult to sympathize with anyone because the kids drive their respective parents to their wits end. I have no problem with these things, and instead I quite enjoy them most days. But…even though it might have inspired a genre, the execution of this horror-thriller is not particularly impressive if you ask me. The fans – and there are many of them – will probably disagree. 

Patty McCormack is truly creepy as Rhoda, a seemingly innocent young child - a piano prodigy, a loving daughter to her mother Christine (Nancy Kelly) and an affectionate admirer of her father (William Hope) – with a nasty tendency to commit terrible acts. It starts with the jealous drowning of a kid in her class at school who won a medal that Rhoda feels she had deserved to win. The parents of the kid (the always drunk Mrs. Daigle, played by Eileen Eckhart, and her husband) visit the house and insist that Rhoda had something to do with their little boy’s death. Of course, Christine – at home with only Rhoda and the housekeepers since daddy is away on military duty – believes that her daughter is not truly responsible, but as her behavior becomes progressively peculiar, she starts to have her doubts. But who wouldn’t, honestly?

I can see where the film was shocking and provocative for its time. Before this film, I don’t believe there was another evil child movie, or at least not one quite like it. For a lot of people, it pushed buttons even though none of the child’s evil deeds are shown on-screen. But viewing it now in 2012, it’s clear to see it has aged; and not particularly well. Whenever I watch an older film, I am willing to put on a completely different mindset entirely; which would explain why I enjoy the Hitchcockian thrillers and even the early works of Dario Argento. Indeed, we have better effects and actors now; but I believe atmosphere never dies, and that a truly good film – no matter how effects laden it was for its time – can still entertain even today. That’s just not the case with “The Bad Seed”. It may be borderline blasphemous to some, but I’m not even going to give the film the credit of being well-made.

In spite of the particular premise, which is and always will be genuinely creepy, the execution of the film’s plot is almost beyond disappointing. Director Mervyn LeRoy just doesn’t seem like a very motivated filmmaker. Maybe I’m wrong, but I only counted a few frames where “The Bad Seed” was actually down-to-earth atmospheric; although those few frames do count. LeRoy knows how to direct his actors, four of which got Academy Awards nominations for their performances, but not his material. I never felt as if there was really an established mood that ran throughout the picture other than that here we have this nice, pretty young girl who is at first ready to give her daddy a basket of hugs for his baskets of kisses and within the next hour murdering her classmates in cold blood. LeRoy runs his ideas into the ground with only middling success. The only thing moderately “shocking” is the ending, which is just tasteless and cold enough to leave its mark.

What can I say? I think “The Bad Seed” is quite possibly one of the most overrated films of all time. I was hooked for the first forty minutes and then the thing just lost me from then on. It’s a privileged piece of cinema and enjoys a following these days, and I wouldn’t tell people not to see it per se, but I personally could not wait for it to end. It is a two hour film and somehow manages to feel a lot longer. I may revisit it one day, but not anytime soon. Tell me what you wish. I love films like this, normally. But “The Bad Seed” did nothing for me other than fill me with rage for not being able to access it as so many others have. I want to be in on the praise and the admiration; although I can only be in on the respect. This is not a bad movie, but I don’t think it’s a particularly good one either. I don’t know what to call it. Not slow-burn, because I’m usually into that when it’s done right. Not thrilling, because of how much it’s aged. Let’s just stick with boring, plodding, and fascinatingly detached from all resonance.

The Horde (La Horde)

**1/2 out of ****

If you like your zombies served fast and your action served with a side-dish of brutality; then the French zombie-action film “The Horde” is likely to be your wet dream. Probably not one of your fondest, but a fond one nevertheless. I admire it for just going fucking berserk for long periods of time and thoroughly entertaining my thirst for blood, guts, and the undead while leaving all deep characterization and narrative credibility at the door. As a film for its genre, it is relentless and fast-paced; exciting and hyperactively violent. As a film in general, it is perhaps far too simplistic and forgettable for its own good. But if one is to judge it on the grounds that they should – in this case its own – then one will also discover that it’s not all so bad. If you’ve got at least one quarter of an entire film brimming with at least some artistic inspiration, you’ve got more than most films these days as it is.

A quartet of French policeman (and one woman) raid an abandoned apartment complex in an act of vengeance against some depraved drug dealers who killed a close friend (whose body is seen dead at the end of the film; or at least we presume it is his). They are overpowered and held captive by the dealers, who are armed with guns, knives, and drugs; but not for long. Just as things are about to heat up, hordes of the undead come crashing through the doors and flooding the hallways. One is enough to kill several of the previously “living”; these are powerful beings that, like most zombies today, have outlived the convention that George Romero popularized of zombies being slow and clumsy. The groups are split up and the remaining cops must team up with the thugs to get out alive.

I think the style, carefully yet recklessly executed by directors Benjamin Rocher and Yannick Dahan, more than makes up for most of the flaws, which include, but are not limited to, the lack of character development and the rapid pacing sometimes getting ahead of itself. The film does stop for a moment in an attempt to conjure up some sort of suspense but it doesn’t quite succeed in doing so; the directors think that the style that they possess alone can create tension, but they are wrong. Still, it’s a hell of a lot more tense than most Hollywood pictures and I have to commend it for that. Good, bad; it’s still worth its weight in blood.

In addition to the weak characters, one of the film’s other main weaknesses is its inability to explain the origin of the undead. We see a little excerpt from television but that’s about it. Outside on the horizon we see a city exploding right in front of our eyes. Could the zombies themselves be doing this much damage, or is it our attempt to stop them? “The Horde” doesn’t have all the answers and doesn’t necessarily need some of them, but would have benefitted greatly if it had at least a few. But rational explanations aside, the zombies are nice looking and they can certainly die real good. The gore effects are really great here. There are a number of badass moments that make the film worth checking out on its own: such as a somewhat climactic showdown in a garage and various hallway shootouts.There's also a quirky old man who fights with an axe and can't seem to stop saying the word "chink".

But the honest truth is that this isn’t a great zombie movie. It isn’t even really a good one. But I can’t ignore that some considerable craft went into making it; it’s just as if the filmmakers were more interested in the effects, the actors (all of whom seem very professional and give good performances), and the camerawork that they had access to over the more important things such as the story and the characters. Nothing but the set-up and the locations are very well drawn out, but that’s OK. “The Horde” is gruesome and crazy enough without being particularly interesting or intellectually stimulating. In spite of it being a foreign zombie flick, you’d best leave logic and your criticisms behind. For what it is, I didn’t find it boring and it distracted me for a good hour and a half. I know there’s a better film to be seen from these filmmakers and I hope it surfaces soon, because “The Horde” indicates a bright future for the both of them so long as next time they develop the substantial elements rather than disregard them all-together.

Godzilla (Gojira)

**** out of ****

The original 1954 version of “Godzilla” – AKA “Gojira” – evades the implications of its B-movie exteriors. Here we have a monster movie that is not really just a monster movie. If it were, it would not have been remembered. Instead, the film impacted those who saw it during its original run. It took a few years for it to hit overseas in America; and under an alternative name (with the subtitle “King of the Monsters”) and different footage. But once the world got familiar with the name Godzilla, it never faded from our cultures. It is an important film and an impressive technical achievement for its time. But aside from the effects, which were great for their time, it contains some of the most relevant social commentary out of any contemporary monster movie or horror movie in general (although I wouldn’t call “Godzilla” that exactly; think disaster film).

In Japan, a fishing boat disappears one night at sea, seemingly swallowed up by an ocean that engulfs the vessel in roaring water. Another ship is sent out to respond to the distress signal that was sent, and that one disappears as well. Nearby on Odo Island, the villagers are experiencing a bad season for fishing and wonder whether it is because the ocean God they know as Godzilla is in fact damning them. The island’s inhabitants then perform rituals to try and keep Godzilla away from their island, and just as they are doing this; the reporters start flocking in by the numbers. Then, a storm hits the island; although something far more sinister – and as one of the villagers says, “alive” – is brought along with it to do the most damage. In the aftermath, the footprints of a large beast are found in the sand.

The people are of course hysterical. They talk, they banter, they debate, and they eventually theorize that nuclear bomb testing was what released Godzilla from its prison underground in the darkest depths of the ocean. But the talking will get them nowhere. The beast continues to strike various locations; destroying bridges and buildings and even parts of Tokyo. Loved ones are being lost every day. There’s a particularly sad scene where choirs of young children sing a hymn for those lost in the destruction caused by the monster that reminds us of just how important it would be to stop its primitive rage. A one-eyed amateur scientist is currently developing an Oxygen Destroyer, which could be used to stop the monster dead in its tracks, but at the same time it could also be fatal to the humans if it backfired onto them.

“Godzilla” is an interesting movie because it lingers on the humanity of the people involved in the decision-making. In a sense, it is a movie about decision-making in itself. Are those pushing the buttons willing to risk the lives of others to destroy a great beast from the deep? Would it be possible to capture Godzilla for further observation? There are probably a few great scientific discoveries to be mad here. But the authorities don’t seem to care. That’s where the individuality and determination of the smarter citizens comes in. And that’s also where the film is at its most interesting and entertaining. For a movie featuring a gigantic monster destroying shit, it’s surprisingly clever in its plotting and is more story-centric than most movies of the genre that it more or less kick-started (although monsters have always been popular in most cultures around the world on cinematic terms).  

It’s difficult to look at the film and not be reminded of the Hiroshima attacks and the effects that WWII had on Japan. The film itself was intended as a grim reminder of the nation’s past. We can’t forget the most devastating of tragedies; and cinema is a great medium for the preservation of such things. Why would we want to “preserve” tragedy? Because once in a while, you know, we tend to learn from our mistakes; and with every great tragedy comes something learned, or so I would hope. So I see “Godzilla” as an evocative piece on the countries societal deterioration at the time. There are true artists behind this film – in part, director Ishiro Honda and screenwriting partner Takeo Murata – who observed and loathed the times and decided to express their feelings through a 400-foot tall rubber-suit reptile.

This film alone has inspired an entire legacy of sequels, spinoffs, and rip-offs. I wonder if any of them actually carried the tradition of provocative social commentary, or whether most of them simply cashed in on the titular monster for an excuse to showcase the latest in computer technology that can be used to digitally destroy parts of the world as we know them. The effects have indeed aged, from the fires to Godzilla himself, but there’s a charming antique quality to even the most effects-heavy sequences and therefore it’s consistently engaging. Over time, Godzilla has evolved in appearance and probably in background as well. The end of the film should have ended the very concept of the beast itself, but one of the motives behind a monster movie is the ignorance of man; so it’s never really over. But “Godzilla” isn’t so much about stupidity as it is how the cores of our being keep us united in even the most catastrophic of times. That is why it resonates on such a personal level with those who chose to view it as history rather than merely entertainment that is better forgotten than savored.

Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance

*1/2 out of ****

The first one might have been God-awful, but there was always a chance that a good “Ghost Rider” movie could be made. When Neveldine/Taylor, the directing duo behind the loads-of-fun “Crank” movies, were announced at the helm of the sequel; I was hopeful. When Nic Cage’s return to the role of Johnny Blaze was confirmed, I began to doubt the project more than I initially had. When the trailer came out, I was hopeful again. And when I saw the movie itself, I was neither hopeful nor doubtful. I was instead disappointed and quite frankly bored. These are not things that I expect from these guys. And these are not things that their biggest fans – and I’m one of them, more or less – want from them. So why doesn’t it seem like they even made an attempt to dodge these obstacles?

The devil (Ciaran Hinds) wants a little boy named Danny (Fergus Riordan), who he believes is his son. Danny’s mother Nadya (Violante Placido) does not want to hand him over and instead goes on the run with the kid. After he unsuccessfully offers protection for Nadya and the child, French priest Moreau (Idris Elba) must find Johnny Blaze (Nicolas Cage) – a former stunt-driver who made a deal with the devil eight years prior to beginning of the story – so that they may stop the Devil in his tracks. In exchange for saving the boy’s life, Moreau promises that he may restore Johnny’s in return by driving out the spirit of the Ghost Rider; that famed comic book anti-hero with the flaming skull and the badass motorcycle and chain.

One of the devil’s henchmen is a former boyfriend of Nadya by the name of Ray (Johnny Whitworth). After it appears that the Ghost Rider has defeated him once, the devil allows him to get back up again and this time with longer white hair the supernatural power of decay (which he tests on a Twinkie). The devil (also known as Roarke) intends to transfer his soul into the boy’s body, since his current one is growing old. So basically it’s protect the boy, blow up shit, kill shit, and look as cool as one can look when on fire and doing stunts on a motorcycle and kicking bad guy ass with a giant whip-chain. It’s already not much of a plot as it is, yet screenwriters Scott Gimple, Seth Hoffman, and yes, even David S. Goyer manage to make it even less of one.

The only good thing I can say about “Spirit of Vengeance” is that with Brandon Trost on board as the director of photography, you can’t really go wrong. For the action sequences, the film retains the look and feel of a Neveldine/Taylor film (since Trost shot both “Crank” films); but for everything else, it’s beyond bland. As for the content, the duo makes an attempt to infuse their sense of humor (Johnny Blaze pissing flames and absorbing bullets into his enflamed skull and spitting them back out at a thug’s ugly mug) into the material, but the PG-13 rating puts a lot of restraint on just how much they can do. Even if they were given more freedom, it would still suck; because there’s just no escaping the terrible acting, terrible effects, and terrible just about everything else. At least the Rider’s skull actually looks like it’s one fire this time.

But in the end, it is better than the first “Ghost Rider”. The action sequences alone far surpass the awfulness of that one. But “Spirit of Vengeance” is still a bad movie. It’s only momentarily entertaining and I absolutely despise Cage in this role. Neveldine/Taylor manage to squeeze one great over-the-top crazy Cage moment (“Scraping at the door!”) but that’s not enough to hold up an entire hour and thirty five minutes of crap. The other films from the directors haven’t suffered as much. You either love them or you hate them and I admire the spirit of the filmmakers. They have their own style and insane way of making movies and they try to bring some of that into “Ghost Rider” but fail miserably on a whole. I shouldn’t have to trudge through the muck of inane dialogue and dull plotting to get to a few impressive action sequences. I expect so much more, even from a comic book/superhero movie that goes out of its way to show its pride for silliness and absurdity.

The Birds

***1/2 out of ****

It would be too easy writing off Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Birds” as dated or foul. This is the kind of thriller that makes younger audiences laugh with its now-silly special effects and seemingly imperfect performances. This is really the only reason why the film does not enjoy much success with a younger generation; well that and the people which I speak of are accustomed to thrillers and horror movies that move at a faster pace, ignoring the details that Hitchcock – as a prolific and defining filmmaker with suspense as his area of expertise - was so very fond of. But in moving the plot slowly, Hitchcock is able to make the film more than what the sum of its parts may imply. You’ve got your killer bird movies, and then you’ve got THE killer bird movie. This is a cleverly crafted portrait of cinematic tension and fear; and I do not believe any of the suspense has worn off from the film over time.

Wealthy blonde Melanie Daniels (Tippi Hedren) travels to Bodega Bay, California to deliver a pair of lovebirds to the successful lawyer Mitch Brenner (Rod Taylor) for his sister after he visits the bird shop and mistakes Melanie for an employee. While still in the city, Melanie looks up at the sky and sees hundreds and thousands of birds flying in large groups overhead. Migrating, perhaps, is the first thought that crosses her mind. She’s forgotten about it once in Bodega Bay and staying at her friend Annie’s (Suzanne Pleshette) place. Then, once she delivers the birds to the Brenner estate, a seagull attacks her. And yet again, she fails to acknowledge it as anything more than coincidence.

During her stay, Melanie spends a lot of time with Mitch and the rest of his family, including his uptight mother Lydia (Jessica Tandy). As she gets more involved with their lives, the stranger the behavior of the birds becomes. Soon, they are homicidal and dive-bombing every living human being outside and in sight. And they can break and enter into homes through the windows too. We’re talking crows attacking a school, seagulls descending onto a group of young children, and a large swarm of sparrows coming in through the chimney. It’s surreal and at the time of its release it was all genuinely frightening; from the moment the birds start attacking to the second the humans start fighting back with firepower and their own general intelligence. Never before had we been lead to fear such seemingly harmless animals; but that’s the power of good cinema.

The screenplay is completely uncanny. It’s a mixture of genuinely nerve-wracking suspense and somewhat unsubtle feminist politics. In many ways, this is a feminist film in itself. A lot of the important characters are females and the film carefully examines how they all fit into Mitch’s life, since he’s clearly the only real man in this situation, although he’s surrounded by a plethora of less crucial supporting male characters. The film could also be seen as a metaphor for terrorism, a social critique, or an assault on the sensibilities of a B-movie; which “The Birds” certainly is not. The script is handled real well by Hitchcock; who treats his themes with care and allows the story to unfold at a pace that will agree with any viewer who values true suspense in their pictures but will also surely anger the aforementioned younger generation of movie-goers.

But I say fuck that. Most thrillers and horror pictures today tell us that suspense is approximately two-to-ten minutes of silence and then a jump scare. The ugly truth is that most filmmakers just don’t have the chops to make this method feel impressive or fresh; although there are a few who take a lot of their cues from Master Hitchcock himself. This film is damn well near perfect; my only real nitpick being that the bird attack sequences have lost a lot of their impact over time. They are well-photographed just like the rest of the film and you’ll get more thrills from these “yellow screen” birdies than you will any lame CGI feathered fowls; but you can’t deny that it feels a bit silly today. But this wasn’t supposed to be a special effects extravaganza. Hitchcock keeps the suspense consistent and therefore thoroughly engages his audiences; keeping us guessing, on the edge of our seats, etc. I cannot give it a perfect score for this problem alone; but it’s a perfectly stimulating and spectacular cinematic experience regardless.

There were two methods of building tension that I admired most of all. One was the island setting, which lends the story and the characters a certain layer of vulnerability; I suppose one does not merely “get out of town” like they do in so many other movies, thus these people are sort of trapped. Then there’s the decision to skip a more traditional Bernard Hermann score and depend on sound effects such as the birds screeching and the wings flapping (all this was supervised by Hermann, mind you).  I thought this was really effective in the context of the film. It gives the film the grand gift of silence and broadens the horizon as far as the overall effect goes. Sure, a musical score might have improved the best of thrills – such as the revelation of a man dead in his house with his bloody eyeballs plucked from their sockets – but overall I think the quiet nature of the more “frightening scenes” separates this one from the rest of Hitchcock’s films. The man himself once said that this might be the most frightening motion picture he’s ever made. I’m not sure I agree with him entirely; but oh, “The Birds” is still just so damn good anyways.

A boy and his birds.

Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows

***1/2 out of ****

"Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows" improves upon its predecessor in just about every way. Guy Ritchie has dropped the excessive green screen and employment of unnecessary slow-motion (although plenty is still present, just somewhat more, you know, NECESSARY) as well as the miscast Rachel McAdams from the original (who does appear here, but gets killed off early on, thank God). Ritchie seems to have understood what was wrong and what was right about his 2009 re-imagining of the famous detective who legacy in cinema, television, and literature has made him a favorite amongst fanatics of any of the three. He takes what he has established already in the first "Sherlock Holmes" and expands upon more universal ideas and develops more interesting and important characters this time around. It also helps that the plotting - grounded in a very action oriented story - is rather ingenious.

Irene Adler (McAdams) is quite possibly the first in a string of murders, assassinations, and terrorist attacks. She is poisoned by the intellectual criminal mastermind Professor Moriarty (Jared Harris), whose literal hand-gun contraption we saw briefly in the original Guy Ritchie film. This strikes a heavily personal note with Holmes (Robert Downey Jr.), who had just met with Adler the day she also met with Moriarty. They had planned to meet for dinner and he had taken a letter from her possession. He inspects it and vows to track down the intended recipient, a gypsy by the name of Simza (Noomi Rapace), whose brother is working for Moriarty and has put her in danger of being killed (when she and Holmes first meet, an assassin is waiting for her) since she may know of Moriarty's world dominance plans if he told her about them (which is a possibility, if anything).

Meanwhile, what of Watson (Jude Law)? Well, he's finally getting married to the love of his life, Mary (Kelly Reilly), and they're actually on their way to the ol' honeymoon by train when Holmes meets up with his loyal Watson yet again to inform him that the three of them - at the moment - are in grave danger since he does not intend to get out of Moriarty's way. Holmes believes Moriarty has planted bombs all over the map; and that it all starts in Paris, where he and Watson travel to retrieve Simza. The plot consists of a very fast-paced race against time that takes the trio to a variety of different places such as a factory, a forest, the Paris Opera, and even Switzerland. The fact that Ritchie decides to take most of the action outside of London for this sequel alone makes it better than the original.

But then again, it's just better all around. As genuinely creepy and menacing as Mark Strong was in "Sherlock Holmes", Moriarty is Holmes' intellectual equal and thus we're finally given a villain who is both threatening and on the same exact page as Holmes throughout the narrative. Some of the film's best scenes - aside from those centering on the hyper-stylized action - concern the conversations and chess games that Holmes and Moriarty engage in. So I thought he was a nice villain and a far superior one too, and Jared Harris is brilliant in the role. As for Rapace, well, just about anything is better than Rachel McAdams as far as female characters in this universe goes; and it helps that her Simza character isn't quite a new love interest for Holmes (but oh, she could be). There's also a character played by Stephen Fry who is apparently Holmes' brother.

Overall, though; I didn't like the film as much as I did based on the characters or the story. If you go to a Guy Ritchie film expecting a lot of philosophical bantering that runs deep, deep, deep; you've been looking in the wrong place for a long time now and this isn't going to be the film to change your mind. I know it hasn't been too long, but it feels like it has; and it feels damn good to see Ritchie and company return to this world yet again. The action sequences are absolutely stunning and they actually assist the story in moving forward this time around. It's less about mystery and less about the establishment of the Watson/Holmes relationship and more about racy, ambitious genre filmmaking; but I liked how it didn't forget to leave its brain at home in exchange for the sheer amount of badassery on display here. I'm sure not everyone will have as good a time with it as I did, but I'm not going to lie; this is a big step up from the original film. At 129 minutes, the whole thing goes by real fast and you get the sense that Ritchie - already a talented and acclaimed filmmaker - has finally mastered this particular game.

Sherlock Holmes (2009)

*** out of ****

Guy Ritchie’s “Sherlock Holmes” stylistically reverses the intentions that we are to expect from both cinematic and non-cinematic outings starring everyone’s favorite titular sleuth. While we’re used to an intelligent, perplexing labyrinth of a mystery; Ritchie’s attempted “update” on the character and the “Sherlock Holmes” universe itself presents us with a mystery that is almost decidedly simplistic yet creatively drawn out for a larger, more modern and mainstream audience. I only refer to it as an “attempt” because in all honesty, personal views aside, that’s what it is. Ritchie clearly isn’t the best choice for material like this, yet he obviously admired it enough to produce a film that’s actually pretty fun when all is said and done. Not so much an update but more-so a film that illustrates the Holmes that Ritchie fell in love with and visualized in his head as a young boy, I can definitely admire it in spite of its obvious imperfections.

The film opens with Sherlock Holmes (Robert Downey Jr.) and his loyal sidekick Dr. John Watson (Jude Law) thwarting the attempted sacrifice of a beautiful young girl at the hands of an occult serial killer who goes by the name of Lord Blackwood (Mark Strong). This would have been the sixth life he claimed, if not for the famous detective turning the tables so successfully. Soon afterwards, Holmes cannot find a new case worthy of his time or set of skills, thrusting him into a deep depression within his shut-in apartment, and Watson is planning to move out of the same building all-together to live with the woman that he wishes to wed. However, Blackwood is scheduled to be hung quite soon and requests to see Holmes last minute, warning him that three more will die once he has. The plot really gets going when Blackwood is hung, and the next morning, is discovered to have rose from the grave and walked out of the cemetery overnight.

Holmes then receives a visit from an old acquaintance/femme fatale named Irene Adler (Rachel McAdams), who may or may not be associated somehow with Blackwood’s master plan; which is to overpower the British government or something of the sort. I was honestly more engaged with the delivery than the material. On the surface, “Sherlock Holmes” is far from masterful mystery storytelling but what allows it to succeed is, ultimately, Guy Ritchie’s enthusiasm as a filmmaker. I’m not completely down with his style – too much green screen, too much CGI in some of the big action set pieces (especially the bridge finale), and an excess of slow motion – but the scenes where he employs the Phantom Camera (which, in the film’s action sequences, gives us a good look at stuff the human eye could not regularly capture, such as the little details in between each blow delivered to human flesh) and the retro sets themselves are particularly interesting.

Casting could not be better as far as the two leads go. Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law have great chemistry throughout and since most motion pictures – action and thriller genre offerings especially – must mix the expected stylistics with a bit of humor, they are the ones to deliver the best punch-lines. Aside from that, they just command every scene they’re in together; and I could watch not one more, but SEVERAL more features starring the two of them. Mark Strong is kind of intimidating as Blackwood although he’s forgettable. The only casting choice here that I’m not really that big of a fan of is Rachel McAdams in the role of Holmes’s love interest. I just felt she was miscast; probably chosen from a large group of similarly aged and beautiful actresses to get the part instead of the screenwriters having her exclusively in mind. Sometimes, this can work out; here it just doesn’t. She isn’t horrible, but she simply does not fit the part.

But you know what, that doesn’t bother me so much. It’s a mere nitpick, as the rest of the film is just so darned entertaining. “Sherlock Holmes” could best be described as a late 1800’s buddy comedy, and a damn good one at that. The actors seem to be having a good time and Ritchie emerges as a director with a firm grasp on his movie in spite of being unable to truly provide a different view on the characters or the narrative. They can’t all be entirely new or fresh. I can’t really complain. It might be overlong, slightly over-stylized, and perhaps even a little over-blown; but “Sherlock Holmes” is still a well-made picture if you treat it as escapism rather than cinematic mastery. It gives you what you want and nothing more: a plot based that is based around action but not so much so that it becomes all brawn and no brains. There’s still some fight in this old boy.

Dead Alive (Braindead)

**** out of ****

I love blood. I love guts. I love gore. I love anything (artificial) that flows in large amounts, even if we aren’t speaking of bodily fluids. But if we are, then movie blood is what I always crave. The more the merrier is my motto when it comes to such a thing. I’m not easily offended or shocked by movie violence; and in the case of features like “The Evil Dead” and its sequel, the grotesque becomes the darkly comic and absurd. Peter Jackson apparently loves blood, guts, gore, and fake red bodily fluids as much as I do. His early effort “Dead Alive” (known as “Braindead” some places) is an ode or homage to the mere existence of over-the-top movie violence and gore. The whole thing has this real low budget aesthetic to it throughout the first half and that’s charming, but what’s even more-so is the transition from that to all-out gruesome carnage in the third act.

This is probably one of the most bat-shit insane and violent movies I have ever seen, period. It’s such a lively, spontaneous, comic horror farce; it embraces special effects for blood and gore like few films before or after it truly have. And by blood and gore, we’re talking organs coming back to life, faces being ripped open and necks suffering from a similar fate, flesh exploding into a frenzy of green goo, and a in a famous scene, a lawnmower meeting with mortal flesh and causing certain disfigurement and mutilation. Was there a line that Jackson ever considered? Because if there was; he not only crosses but disregards it all-together. With “Dead Alive”, there simply is no line. And Jackson couldn’t give less of a fuck about it.

It starts out with a sequence involving a couple of misguided explorers on the fictional Skull Island who intend to escape with a caged “Rat Monkey”, which has a rather nasty bite. Not everyone makes it back alive. Cut to the town of Wellington, New Zealand; where the rat monkey now lives, confined in its cage with the other monkeys at a zoo. It’s 1957; and the likably docile Lionel (Timonthy Balme) is living with his elderly mother (Elizabeth Moody) and is being pursued by a helpless romantic foreigner named Paquita (Diana Penalver). The two go to the zoo one day on a date and Lionel’s over-protective mother tags along, only to be bitten by the crazed rat monkey. Lionel must take care of her while she is still sane, which won’t be for long. She starts losing her skin (an ear, parts of her face, soon her whole body) and eventually goes completely mad, or so it seems. Perhaps she’s just a zombie.

Her behavior gets increasingly violent and Lionel must purchase a syringe in order to fight back against his mother and the ill-fated house guests that she has killed and turned into zombies just like her. When mother leaves the house, she starts attacking townsfolk and turning them into zombies as well. Soon she’ll have an entire army behind her. Lionel must contain what she’s started in his house. But it’s not easy. Two of the zombies have sex and produce a disgusting little zombie baby who Lionel attempts to father by taking it to the park and then subsequently beating the shit out of it. Then Lionel’s obnoxious cousin arrives, discovers the zombies in the guest room, and invites all his friends and family to the house for a party. You know what happens next.

I’m a sucker for movies like this. Movies that are made according to a director’s original and daring vision regardless of what the general public might think. Even the most mainstream of film critics have warmed up to this one by now; and it’s considered a masterpiece in the field of marrying the humorous with the macabre by horror fans and movie critics specializing in or who enjoy the genre in particular. I can understand why. Here, you’ve got a director (Jackson) who is known for bigger and supposedly better things such as the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy and the spectacular re-imagining of “King Kong” (which also features Skull Island). But the truth is that the earlier end of the director’s career was populated by absurdist comedies of an extremely over-the-top nature; and this is one of them as well as one of the best. If you’re half as crazy as me when it comes to your taste in cinema; you’re going to have the movie-going experience of your life with this one.

Kung Fu priests that “kick ass for the Lord”, diabolical yet playful zombie newborns, silly dialogue, silly accents, yet effective satire on 50’s New Zealand society; “Dead Alive” has just about everything I’ve been looking for in a movie but never expected I would get. As far as sheer entertainment goes, it’s a marvel and I haven’t had this much pure fun watching a movie in a long time, but I love it when the occasion pops up at random. Every self-respecting sicko should see this. Any self-respecting human being should see this. It’s such a good, hilarious, ridiculous bloodbath that I can’t stand seeing it being overlooked by ANYONE. It is good cinema. Because as a special effects extravaganza, it really does understand itself. It’s completely self-aware of its absurdity. But it was also influential for the new wave of American horror film; particularly films like “Shaun of the Dead”. It’s a classic on its own right. A flesh-crawling, head-ripping, toilet-absorbing, blade-cutting good time.

Wanderlust

** out of ****

David Wain simply does not have anything interesting (or even moderately original) to say in “Wanderlust”. A Judd Apatow-produced comedy about a couple that encounters a hippie commune after they face financial and professional implications and must sell their brand new apartment; Wain’s main point seems to be to make fun of the sheer freak show oddity of hippies and their culture. Indeed, this is something prevalent in our society; we mock, and sometimes even worship, the ways of such people. But wouldn’t it have been more interesting to explore their motivation and even deeper parts of the culture itself, and still for the sake of relatable human comedy? The answer is yes, it would have been quite interesting indeed, but Wain doesn’t seem to care much. Once his movie sets off, it moves at a relatively fast pace with no intention of slowing down.

The couple that finds themselves thrust into this peculiar plot are George (Paul Rudd) and Linda (Jennifer Aniston). They’re a typical American couple – nice, respectable, decent, probably still in the beginning stages of settling down – that buys the apartment, which is in New York, and barely get to know it when George is fired from his job out of nowhere and Linda’s documentary film for HBO doesn’t sit well with the producers. Conversations with the woman selling the apartment that they now must sell themselves are funny (the woman is married to an apparently very passionate blind man); those with George’s douchebag brother Rick (Ken Marino) are not. Whatsoever.

Nevertheless, Rick’s home is shelter for the two. On their way to Georgia (where Rick and his family lives), they stop at the commune for the first time and are treated with much hospitality. The first person they meet is the nudist oenophile (and soon-to-be writer) Wayne (Joe Lo Truglio). They are then introduced to the prime members of the gang, which is too large to list in its entirety: Seth (Justin Theroux), Eva (Malin Akerman), and the aging owner Carvin (Alan Alda, absolutely hysterical in the role). After a night of weed and warmth, the pair hits the road yet again and stays at Rick’s place for a little while, but after discovering that their ideal life style is much different from his, they leave and head back to the commune. However, the hippie lifestyle - free love and all - threatens George and Linda's already troubled relationship.

I enjoyed spending time with the hippies for about the first hour or so. The most important members of the community are colorfully drawn out if not improperly characterized. They are clichés or caricatures rather than memorable, well-fleshed-out human beings. Nevertheless, it’s a diverse cast of hippies we’ve got here. Aside from the ones I’ve already listed, you’ve got the likes of Lauren Ambrose and Kathryn Hahn on board and they supply quirky characters (again…if you could call them those). And even Ray Liotta makes a cameo at the end of the feature; so obviously you’ve got an impressive cast here.

But Wain and company fail to do anything interesting with its members. “Wanderlust” is a one-note comedy; it lacks ambition and it lacks a steady balance of humor and humanity. I’ll admit that there are a handful of laughs – Wayne is a great and colorful little character and the drug-induced hallucinatory scenes are amusing – but there’s no denying that more were attempted than were actually had. The problem is that (1.) the script just isn’t very good being predictable and unstable and all and (2.) it tries too hard. It’s kind of a vulgar comedy and those tend to go either way; “Wanderlust” comes very close on the border between evocation and potential offense. Me, I was not offended at all – even by the graphic nudity and sex humor present – but I just didn’t find myself laughing by that material in particular. As I stipulated earlier, Wain’s point is to mock the post-modern hippie culture; and a lot of the film’s best laughs come from that alone. But, you know, for a movie that looked so promising; I expected something a little groovier than this drivel.

The Exorcist III

*** out of ****

Let’s get something straight. This is not really “The Exorcist III”. It may don the name, but only because the studio intended for it to be a commercial effort. It is a continuation of the events that closed William Friedkin’s screen adaptation of “The Exorcist”, which was based on a novel written by William Peter Blatty – who wrote and directed this film. It picks up after Father Karras (Jason Miller) jumped out the window of the MacNeil house in Georgetown, Washington and rolled down that famous flight of stairs to his death, with the demon Pazuzu still possessing his body and soul. But “The Exorcist III” does not involve Pazuzu at all. In fact, its demons consist of mortals and immortals; things both real and paranormal. It’s an ambitious mixture, yes, but surprisingly enough it actually ends up working and makes the material more than just another cheap “sequel”, which – more or less – it kind of is and kind of isn’t.

The story follows a series of bizarre murders – mostly decapitations – that occur fifteen years after “The Exorcist”. The MacNeils don’t live here (in this universe) anymore. The first murder is of a teenage black kid, and the crime scene is being investigated primarily by Lieutenant William Kinderman (George C. Scott); who always gets depressed on the anniversary of Karras’s death. This explains why he and his priest friend Father Dyer (Ed Flanders) attend a screening of their favorite movie – the cheerful “It’s a Wonderful Life” - on that day. Soon afterwards Father Dyer is mysteriously hospitalized and then murdered in cold blood. There was another murder before this; that of, yes, another priest – this time one who gets a direct visit from a supposedly sinful old woman who mutters strange and disturbing things under her breath hoping that the priest will hear her out.

The fingerprints left at each of the murders are that of a different person; so there is more than one killer. Kinderman somehow relates the murders to those committed by a man known as the Gemini Killer some time ago; although the man had since been sent to the electric chair. Nevertheless, the head of a local psychiatric ward sees some resemblance between this Gemini fellow and a guy in Cell 11 that has been locked up, merely existing in this secluded little room, for fifteen straight years. When Kinderman visits the patient, he first resembles Karras; but he then reveals himself to be something far more sinister and diabolical. He claims that he is the Gemini Killer (Brad Dourif), and he is quite possibly just a demon capable of possessing multiple bodies to commit the murders, if he is in fact the perpetrator.

Blatty’s last job behind the camera was as the writer and director of “The Ninth Configuration”, an adaptation of a novel he wrote, but that was about ten years prior to “The Exorcist III”. He hasn’t gone on to direct anything else since, although I can’t see why. He doesn’t seem to resent the experience of making the film, and he’s apparently happy with the final product even if the studio restrained him just a bit and forced him to include an exorcism scene last minute. What more could you ask for? Blatty demonstrates every basic quality of a talented genre filmmaker; and some of the best scenes here rival the atmosphere of the first “Exorcist”, which is my favorite horror film, although clearly not Blatty’s. My biggest gripe is that it’s got a great hour and thirty five minutes, and then the last fifteen are fairly silly in comparison. This is the final fifteen where Blatty brings out the big guns; although the guns don’t come with dramatic gunpowder but rather lots and lots of special effects, all of which have dated by now. But Friedkin’s first film is no different; yet still better. But why compare?

It’s a strange film full of strange – but bewildering and beautiful – images and memorable situations. And it’s an absolute blast to watch. It’s a shame that the footage from Blatty’s alleged “Director’s Cut” is now lost forever (well, as far as we know); but the version that remains is good enough as it is. By mixing a crime drama with a horror film (filled with genuine scares and chills, no less); Blatty’s made a film that is both messy and fascinating. Not to mention intelligent and thoroughly thought-provoking. Dourif’s performance is probably one of the most criminally underrated in horror history and his scenes are unmistakably some of the most compelling. This is the kind of movie where the unhinged zaniness of Dourif feels right at home; this is an explosively imaginative picture that possesses the senses for a good hour and fifty minutes, which is about as much as one can take at once in the case of “The Exorcist III”. It doesn’t overstay its welcome and I can definitely dig that.

The Dark Knight Rises

*** out of ****

Eight years after The Joker terrorized Gotham; Lieutenant Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman) has assumed the role of Commissioner and the city has finally been met with peace. Batman was not needed in all those years, and Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) has considered hanging up the suit and cape for good and just locking himself up inside Wayne Manor with only his dear friend and guardian Alfred (Michael Caine) keeping him company. Enter terrorist leader Bane (Tom Hardy); a buff and very bold badass mother who wears a sort of gas mask-type device that covers the majority of the lower part of his face. He begins his reign of terror by hijacking a plane filled with nuclear scientists and then goes on to set up his base and trusty mercenaries in Gotham’s sewers. It’s not long before he’s captured Gordon just before he had planned to deliver a speech regarding the truth about the Harvey Dent crimes and injured the poor man to the point where he’s bed-ridden and must entrust an officer named John Blake (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) with his duties.

Wayne might be Gotham’s only hope. Bane attacks Wayne Enterprise’s stock using Bruce’s fingerprints (stolen by a spy by the name of Selina Kyle, aka Catwoman, played effectively by Anne Hathaway, and given directly to him by a similar employer), causing the company to face potential bankruptcy. What’s more, Bane has a nasty surprise in store for Gotham; in the form of a bomb that was created by converting Wayne Enterprise’s fusion core. Anyone who attempts to leave the city will trigger the bomb, and Gotham will be remembered only in its very ashes. It also triggers the third act.

One of the story arcs takes place in a prison – which is deemed impossible to escape from due to a high wall of which one must successfully climb with only a rope and their bare hands and feet – where Bane imprisons Wayne after their first confrontation. While in the prison, the inmates reveal to Bruce the backstory of Bane. But we learn a lot more about the hero than we do the villain. Wayne hallucinates of his former master Ra’s al Ghul (Liam Neeson), trains to don the Batman armor once again, and in a powerful moment, escapes the prison like only one another man before him has. This portion of the film works best; as a tale of self-discovery. It helps to give anything else that follows more dramatic weight and (hopefully) more resonance. In fact, I don’t think the film would have worked so well without this part of the plot. So thanks for that, David S. Goyer.

I have waited for “The Dark Knight Rises” for these four long years because Christopher Nolan has transformed the Batman mythology for the better. He has created a Caped Crusader of deeper, darker origins than any other comic or cinematic manifestation of the character; and I always look forward to the supporting characters and memorable cinematic moments that Nolan creates with each installment. In those departments, TDKR certainly delivers. For characters, you get villains like Bane, romantic interests like Miranda Tate (Marion Cotillard) – who wants to ease Wayne of his financial tensions – and new heroes such as Levitt’s Blake. Bane is another threatening villain in the trilogy; on par with al Ghul, which is ironic, because he claims to be the man’s son and successor. Hardy plays the part interestingly enough and I love the character’s voice. He’s simply entertaining to watch in his inhumanity.

What I like the most about these movies, however, are not the action sequences or the mere personas of the characters. I enjoy that Nolan turns his characters into individuals worth studying and the franchise’s vast universe into crime drama material. I wish he could have pushed this as far here as he did in “The Dark Knight”, but then again it makes it all the more unique now that I know he’s not intent on repeating a past success. I think “Rises” is an entertaining character study like its two predecessors, although it definitely does fall short of the last entry. But what wouldn’t at this rate? I realize it’s not easy ending a well-respected and acclaimed franchise with such big expectations and names on board, yet I feel that Nolan has achieved star status as a director worthy of wide recognition for his efforts. He ends his trilogy on a note that’s just right. And it left me not necessarily wanting anything more from Nolan and company. But that’s more of a positive implication than you probably think.

But the way it all ends is, in a sense, the film’s most fatal flaw. Most will probably disagree with what I have to say about it, but who cares? This is my take on the conclusion to the epic trilogy, and I’ve gotta be honest; I wanted to feel stronger about the finale than I actually did. For me, it lacks resonance and power; shooting itself in the foot with a handful of semi-clever twists, one of which comes off as kind of cheap. Aside from that, there’s the obvious; that the film simply cannot live up to the ingenious plotting and craft of “The Dark Knight”, but then again I didn’t expect it to. “The Dark Knight Rises” is fitting and engaging; epic and fairly conclusive, if somewhat disappointing. I would rather not dwell on the negative aspects of the production because what matters most is how much of it I enjoyed and admired. As with “Batman Begins”, which this one matches in quality and in scope, it’s not quite brilliant but not quite worthy of being dismissed. The film will be remembered; probably more for the tragic theater shootings in Colorado, but by many for its quality too. I just wish I could share in such overwhelming love for the film itself.

The Dark Knight

**** out of ****

In “Batman Begins”, Christopher Nolan brought an entirely new vision – a much darker vision – of Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) to the screen. We witnessed his origins and his even further beginnings as a crime fighter for the scum-infested city of Gotham. The same motive has driven the Batman to keep on fighting for the city all the way into this next chapter of the Caped Crusader’s legacy. “The Dark Knight” begins with a heist involving the psychopath donning clown make-up and a nasty, cut-up face known as The Joker (Heath Ledger) and then proceeds to bring back a villain from its predecessor, The Scarecrow (Cillian Murphy), in a sequence that reveals a lot about the influence that Wayne’s alternate identity has on the society that surrounds him. Wayne tries to defend Gotham in any way he can. He starts here by involving himself – or his alias – in a plan devised by Lieutenant Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman) and also involving the new district attorney Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart) to crack down on the mob once and for all.

But of course, The Joker basically beats them to it. He then hatches a plan of his own: to persuade the Batman to reveal his true identity to the public or pay the price in the blood of the people he will kill daily until this becomes a reality. The Joker has an agenda too; Harvey Dent, the mayor, and Dent’s girlfriend; the childhood friend of Wayne, Rachel Dawes (Maggie Gyllenhaal). The Joker weaves a very complicated web of violence, mayhem, and old fashioned trickery; although the main players on the opposing team aren’t so dumb to succumb to it all on demand. Obviously, they’ll all individually put up a fight in their war on crime; which is the least significant of The Joker’s moral less wrong-doings.

This is a deep, engaging multiple character study. Bruce Wayne’s psyche is further explored and his connections – including his guardian Albert Pennyworth (Michael Caine) and wardrobe/weapons designer Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman) – are strengthened too, although this time the other characters are covered too. In particular, there’s The Joker and Harvey Dent. The Joker is a sadistic madman with a Glasgow smile that scars his face due to an accident brought on by his drunkard father at a young age, and even deeper emotional scars underneath the surface, which is already way messed up as it is. Dent, meanwhile, is Gotham’s supposed “white knight”; a hero who doesn’t believe himself to be a hero but certainly believes in the power of chance, which explains why he’s always flipping his father’s lucky coin in order to determine the toughest choices in life to the simplest. He later becomes the villain Two-Face after a tragic burning incident which he survives from but emerges a changed, emotionally broken man.

Nolan’s first foray into this expansive universe was heavily flawed but at the same time genuinely fascinating. Although it gave an interesting and intelligent portrait of Bruce Wayne that outdid all other previous screen versions of the character due to Bale’s pitch-perfect and gritty performance; it also suffered from a second half that didn’t quite live up to the brilliance of the first. The last half of “Batman Begins” was action-oriented mostly, but even though it was entertaining action, you can’t beat strong character development and therein lies the missed opportunities of that film. “The Dark Knight” has action scenes, perhaps even more notable ones than “Begins”, but they exist within the Joker’s villainous plot; which is kept consistent throughout and therefore gives the film a lot more balance and edge. In more ways than one, this shows Nolan truly mastering the material and taking it even further down the road into dark, realism-grounded superhero storytelling.

The casting is flawless. Ledger, bless his soul, gives easily the most memorable performance in the film; and not just because of his passing before its actual completion. He channels the psychotic whimsy and dark absurdity of The Joker so effortlessly, and that’s not exactly an easy feat. Like Bale for Wayne, he’s the best Joker we’ve gotten so far. And he ended his career with a mighty bang. Then there’s the decision to replace Katie Holmes – who I thought absolutely SUCKED as Rachel in “Batman Begins” simply because she’s not an actress I admire at all – with Gyllenhaal was an inspired decision, mostly since Maggie Gyllenhaal can actually, you know, act. Eckhart also gets a role fit specifically for him – and better than most he accepts into his imperfect track record of a career – and runs it into the ground till the last spine-tinglingly intense minute. Meanwhile, every returning member of the cast is as superb as always.

Nolan also upped the visual ambition of this one in comparison to his first “Batman” reincarnation. There isn’t a wrong or uninteresting shot present in “The Dark Knight”; it’s beautifully shot from start to finish. The images and the sound (courtesy of a wonderful and provocative score by Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard) come together to form a cinematic experience beyond stimulating. With a plot this engaging, it didn’t even need this much visual panache; yet it possesses these things anyways. Nolan proves to us that practical action and plot-driven thrills are more exciting than all the big-ass CGI action set pieces money can buy. I’ve admired this series thus far for its ability to hold back on the excessive FX and focus more on the story and characters at hand. But “The Dark Knight” truly goes above and beyond. The title of the film doesn’t come until the end credits start rolling, because only then has it truly become “The Dark Knight”. It ends with such power and resonance that it’s almost impossible for anyone to forget it. That is unless you’re one of the few who found it not so much to your liking. But personally I don’t know many people like that, and I don’t care to. This is master class modern American cinema.

Batman Begins

*** out of ****

As a child, Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) was subjected to not one but two majorly traumatic events. The first was when he fell into the well just outside of his house and was greeted by a swarm of bats at the bottom, causing him to develop a phobia for the animals. The second was when his phobia took over him at an opera that he was attending with his parents, provoking the three of them to step outside, where the mugger Joe Chill was waiting with a loaded gun, which he used to shoot both of Bruce’s parents dead. Afterwards, he was placed under the care of Arthur Pennyworth (Michael Caine) for the remainder of his childhood into adulthood. Once Bruce grows, he decides that it would be best to leave the city of Gotham behind in spite of a potential legacy that he could make for himself in following in his father’s footsteps. But Gotham is where the most painful of memories lie.

When we first see adult Wayne, he looks rather rough; tired, not clean-shaven, and locked up in a Bhutanese prison where every day the inmates try their hand at delivering blows to Bruce’s body and fail miserably. So miserably that he has to be locked up in an even more adequate cell. But this is the cell where he meets Ra’s al Ghul – also known as Henri Ducard - (Liam Neeson); a member of the so-called “League of Shadows”, an organization of ninjas. He offers to train Bruce so that he may become “more than just a man”. After he supplies him with the proper instructions to locate him, Bruce takes Ghul up on his offer. Together they train for the future; so that Bruce may someday fight against the same forces of evil that took the lives of his parents and snatched up what was left of his childhood.

He returns to Gotham, driven by vengeance. In his absence, his father’s company has been taken over by the arrogant William Earle (Rutger Hauer) and his childhood friend Rachel Dawes (Katie Holmes) has become Gotham’s assistant district attorney. Bruce decides that he must make whatever changes that he has the power to make as soon as possible. He starts by investing – not only financially but emotionally – in the family business and stops dead in his tracks the moment he meets Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman), who creates experimental technology for the company. Bruce uses this very technology – which includes the car known as the “Tumbler” and the black bodysuit among other things – to shape his new persona, the persona that he shall use to fight crime: Batman.

We all know of the Batman. He’s one of the most popular superhero/comic book characters in the history of both superheroes and comic books; bordering on one of the most popular characters in any medium, period. Sadly, he’s never quite gotten the chance to grace the silver screen as he was probably intended to; the most famous cinematic outing for Gotham’s dark knight being Tim Burton’s goofy “Batman” in 1989. However, director and co-writer (with David S. Goyer) Christopher Nolan has come along to rework not only the Batman franchise itself but the character of Bruce Wayne as well. The dark side to the franchise has always lingered in the dark, but now it shall emerge to the masses both day and night. A whole new fan-base of younger Batman enthusiasts shall be born.

The film is rather awesome in spectacle and large in scale; frequently involving and often quite intelligent. I thoroughly enjoyed Nolan’s purely intellectual approach to the material. He grounds his story in a reality not too much different from our own; and thus, it transcends the boundaries of its comic book origins. In a sense, this isn’t even a comic book movie. There’s no avoiding that it’s a superhero movie, but it’s unlike the mass majority of the ones out there at the moment. Sure, there’s a CGI swarm of bats here and there, and one of the villains (Dr. Krane/Scarecrow, a mask-wearing psychopath who utilizes a powerful toxin that awakens the fear within all who take it in, played brilliantly by Cillian Murphy) is basically a living gateway for fancy effects, but most of the effects are more practical and therefore the film still feels very “real”. Or at least as real as it can be.

Bale is probably the best screen Batman/Bruce Wayne yet and Nolan has successfully breathed new life into this franchise, which was in need of a darker spin such as this. Overall, this is impressive, passionate filmmaking that should not be so easily dismissed; although at the same time, there are problems that I must discuss. The first half of the film is emotionally engaging and intriguing right to the very core, but the second half delves more-so into the action aspect. And it’s nicely done action; don’t get me wrong, but its action nonetheless and given how frequent it is, there’s simply no ignoring that a lot of genuine resonance is taken away from it due to this. The tension that Nolan builds up isn’t always as consistent as he may want it to be, but at least he succeeded in building it in the first place. And then, there’s Katie Holmes; mis-cast only because at this point, I’m just convinced she can’t act. And her character is supposed to be intelligent, so…yeah, it doesn’t really work out. But “Batman Begins” is still a quality product. Here’s to new beginnings and brighter futures; that the bright shining bat symbol in the sky shall shine on for many more years to come.

Severance

** out of ****

In “Severance”, weapons manufacturing corporation Palisade’s European division is on its way – by bus – to a lodge for a team-building weekend full of activity and inter-sex bonding. The members of the division are goofball Steve (Dylan Dyer), much-sought after blonde Maggie (Laura Harris), tubby but enthusiastic Gordon (Andy Nyman), snobby Harris (Toby Stephens), straight-faced Jill (Claudie Blakley), and the leader-sort of the group Richard (Tim McInnery). Once they’ve arrived at their complimentary lodge, courtesy of their boss George (David Gilliam), strange things start to happen like human teeth being found baked into pies just lying around the lodge for the taking, masked men being spotted in the night, and wooden structures discovered built on trees. Then, the man who drove the crew to the spot is found dead not too far away from his crashed bus. And then bear traps are revealed to be lying all around. What’s going on? There appears to be someone else in the woods, intent on killing off the employees one by one. 

I see what writer/director Christopher Smith is trying to do. He’s trying to blend the “Friday the 13^th” formula with “Office Space”, if that film was set in the wilderness of a Hungarian mountain woods. For the first half of the film, the central idea definitely works. The story moves at a relatively slow pace and I actually kind of liked that about it. But once the second half of the film hits, you begin to realize that it’s about to descend into slasher movie territory. I tried to look as deep into it as I possibly could and see something remotely different that the film was doing, but I just couldn’t. It’s all formula and no class, which is a damn shame when you’re trying to make a horror satire, because as viewers we’ve come to expect a balanced combination of the two.

Smith shows signs of life as a filmmaker. He proves that he’s able to produce some wicked build-up but also that he’s somewhat incapable of following any of that up with an equally as promising final act. There’s a lot of blood in this little flick and it looks good enough to conjure up some kind of atmosphere at first, but Smith simply doesn’t ever find his balance between humorous and gory. But the film does have a few moments of effective dark humor; such as one character’s head to be chopped off by a machete, only for us to get a glimpse of it in all its decapitated glory as he smiles smugly, staring at the rest of his bloody body. This scene is in reference to an earlier one where he and another primary character discussed whether you die instantly upon being decapitated or if you get a few last moments to think.

Otherwise, the film’s sense of humor is kind of hit-or-miss. Early gags such as Steve getting high of magic mushrooms and Jill criticizing the company’s promotional video that plays on the small flatscreen in the bus fall flat; while others such as Gordon discovering a diving board aside a yucky leave-covered pool got a few chuckles out of me. But to be honest, the film does not succeed at being genuinely clever. Andy Nyman is a fantastic British comic actor and he’s always up for a good performance and his character of Gordon is no different, but he’s unable to work around the bland and unimaginative material that is unfortunately put in the center of this mediocre mess. It’s not that the film is or isn’t funny; it’s just that I know I wasn’t laughing too much or enough.

On the bright side, at least I KNOW that Smith can do so much better. He seems very fond of the horror genre and tried to put his love on film and it just didn’t work this time around (or the first, which was “Creep”, less a satire or homage but just as disappointing). “Severance” has its moments and it’s engaging for the first half, but the first half ONLY. Its pleasures include a couple of hot Romanian girls (Juli Drajko and Judit Viktor) who show a little skin and plenty of cleavage, a couple of good laughs, a couple of inspired shots, and a couple of clever little scenes that are merely in the wrong movie. I try to remain as open-minded with entries into the horror genre as I can; but this is as open I can be with a film of this caliber. If it’s not going to respect my level of intelligence then I won’t respect its own.

Eaten Alive (1976)

*** out of ****
 

Tobe Hooper’s “Eaten Alive” is a film so tasteless and sleazy that literally the first few words of dialogue spoken are by Robert Englund as Buck, who is as he says, “fixin’ to fuck”. You might recognize this line of dialogue because it was slightly altered by Quentin Tarantino for his film “Kill Bill: Volume 1”. So you see, in spite of the obvious shit – yes, the film is bad, bad, bad all around and there’s literally nothing morally redeemable about it -, the film has its admirers. And I’ll be damned if I’m not one of them. I’ve come to the realization lately that I simply love me my sleaze. If I don’t get my dose of sleaze at least once or twice a week, I’m rendered incapable of doing much for the remainder of it. That’s just how I am. By no means do I consider these sleaze-fests good movies (at least not by my definition, but I’m not afraid to admit that I really do enjoy the hell out of them on occasion. They should be judged for what they are, not for what they aren’t.

The story…oh who gives a rat’s ass? It’s about a repulsive and sadistic hotel owner named Judd (Neville Brand) who kills people that he believes are looking to interfere with his ill-fated business and feeds their bleeding corpses to his pet alligator. He starts with a young prostitute (Roberta Collins) for no reason other than the fact that she’s a prostitute, or in this case (she’s just been evicted from the whorehouse), a former-prostitute. Then he moves onto a family whose dog is eaten by the alligator, putting the young child of the bunch in turmoil and pissing off the parents. The dad hopes to shoot the animal dead; and you see, this just doesn’t sit too well with ol’ Judd. He carries out the heavy duty with his trusty scythe.

To me, good sleaze hits just the right notes between bizarre, silly, and exploitative. “Eaten Alive” explores all three of those areas and scores big in such departments. In fact, those are the only three departments of cinema that it knows at all. It’s a dumb, bloated movie; Hooper’s first foray into Hollywood filmmaking and certainly not his last, yet certainly not his worst. It’s not as stark and effective as TCM but if you can somehow stop yourself from comparing it to that film so much, it’s a pretty fun ride. Like all good sleazy horror flicks, there’s an attitude to the exploitation. The thing is weird and wild; which makes it all the more exciting to watch.

Englund’s Buck and Brand’s Judd get the best scenes. In fact, they alone create horror movie history; if only a mild contribution (but still, it’s a contribution nonetheless). Buck is as sleazy as the movie itself; a psychopathic sex addict who frequents the local brothels and even stops in at Judd’s hotel for a night, one which he shall not soon forget. And Judd, well, he’s just a really menacing guy; and Brand plays the crazy fucker real well. Both performances are unhinged and fearless, which is precisely what I like about them. Just like the rest of the film, not a single thing about either character is believable; although people like them certainly do exist. Remember that this was made even before TCM was considered somewhat respectable: so nobody on board was really looking for much respect, yet they got some anyways.

And you know what; I’d have to say they damn well deserve it. “Eaten Alive” is what it is – a stupid, absurdist horror-exploitation picture that revels in its own infectious excrement. I liked it enough – the sets and animal props may be cheesy as fuck and the violence may exactly be aplenty but Hooper still retains an interesting visual style through grainy camerawork that occasionally gets a little inventive – although I recognize that it’s not for everyone. You need to go in knowing that this is not a good movie, but a good exploitation film. Those are two COMPLETELY – and I mean it – different things. But like I said, the film should be judged for what it is and not for what it isn’t. And it’s an honest reminder of how good the VHS days of horror used to be. It serves as thoughtful nostalgia to some; someday I imagine I’ll look back on it quite fondly. Because I’m one demented bastard love child. If you are too, then feel free to rejoice with this fancily ferocious fright flick.

Deep Red (Profondo Rosso)

**** out of ****

This is the quintessential Dario Argento thriller. Examine the director’s entire career – down to every last film he’s ever made before and after this – and you’ll see that each one contains just a hint of “Deep Red” in its DNA. Argento has been around (in cinematic terms) for a while, since his debut feature in 1970, and if you know his name and have seen a few of his movies; then you’re already partially familiar with the name he’s made for himself. It’s a tie between this and the phantasmagoric “Suspiria” for most widely acclaimed and recognized Argento film, but if I had to take a pick – and that’s no easy thing to do when you adore the early works of the director – a personal favorite, this would be it. “Deep Red” explodes right from the screen and assaults the senses with a cleaver, a knife, a hatchet, and just about anything else Argento can find at his disposal. It is a beautiful, poetic horror film that reveals the Italians as the defining artists of their era in the medium of horror cinema.

A British pianist named Marc (David Hemmings) who is currently living in Italy witnesses the brutal murder of psychic Helga Ulman (Macha Meril) in her apartment from the streets. What he sees from where he’s standing is her body smash through the apartment window; and what he sees once he’s up there picking up the mess is a shady figure in a fedora and raincoat leaving the scene. What we saw earlier was an unidentified person – quite possibly the perpetrator of the crime – watching Mrs. Ulman as she performed her routine in front of an audience. Afterwards, the figure went to the bathroom of the theater where she was performing and put on some suave leather gloves. But of course, Marc didn’t see all this. He didn’t know that whoever killed Mrs. Ulman was stalking her that very night. All the same, he’s now a part of a police investigation.

Marc is joined by spunky female journalist Gianna (Daria Nicollodi), who hasn’t found the big break she’s been hoping for all her life quite yet, although this might just be it. Together, they seek to solve the puzzle; find the killer, try to understand his/her pattern and who is on the list next if there is a list at all, and put an end to this madness. As they sleuth about, the two forge a very strong romantic bond; the two identify with one another, although at the same time they realize that the killer is still out and about, ready to strike, and that they must act fast if they are to save any more lives.

This is one of those movies where the police are of no help to the heroes whatsoever. A common story element in Argento’s films is characters having to find their own ways out of the labyrinth that they’ve gotten themselves lost in from the beginning all the way to the end; and “Deep Red” has quite the labyrinth indeed. There are a few side characters of note: such as Marc’s drunkard friend (who is later revealed to be gay) named Carlo, his eccentric mother who keeps confusing Marc for an engineer, and even Gianna’s car (which is a piece of shit that is in need of some serious repairs), which has defunct doors. The killer, leather-clad, has his/her peculiarities; such as a tape recording of a children’s nursery rhyme that plays whenever he/she is near. When you hear this song, you know shit’s about to go down. Eventually you start to get familiar with the tune, and it becomes as important as say the “Jaws” theme. Too bad it’s not nearly as world-renown.

But…who cares whether today’s movie-going public isn’t down with Argento or Italian horror cinema as a whole? Who cares about popularity? That didn’t matter to Argento when he made this film and it doesn’t matter to him now. There are plenty of people who appreciate this brilliant and thoroughly engaging film; including myself. In fact, I’d go as far as calling it one of my personal favorites. Yes, that’s right. If I said there are few films that give me such satisfaction – such great pleasure – as this one, I would not be exaggerating. “Deep Red” is a flawless marriage of sound and sight; a mad concoction of elaborate murder set pieces (a gruesome bathroom death sequence is worthy a shout out), a screeching prog rock score, and impeccable cinematography. This is probably the best shot horror movie I’ve seen, considering that there isn’t a dull frame in sight and the colors really get a chance to stand out. Argento’s lighting techniques are as innovative as his loopy, if not imperfect storytelling.

However, this is not a film about storytelling or characters. Both of these things are indeed present, but they are put on the backburner to make way for things of more importance to Argento and fans of Italian horror dream logic: such as grisly but creatively over-the-top violence, quirky humor, and top notch suspense (Hitchcock, a few years before his death, praised Argento as the possible heir to his throne). Argento, in his early years, was a poetic of the macabre who by abandoning conventional storytelling brought to life nightmarish cinematic visions, and this is one of the great ones. Here, the images and sound tell the story. Music, I think, has the most impact on “Deep Red” and its overall quality. Goblin’s original music score is absolutely unreal; and I love these guys, I really do, because they make music for horror movies that wouldn’t typically be found in horror movies at all. And the music commands every scene that it appears in. Accompanied by the stunning imagery – such as the killer’s grotesque drawings that are revealed in the walls of old buildings and baby dolls hung from a rope noose – the score is simply flawless. It’s one of my favorite film scores ever.

I fear I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m giving this film – which I love to death and always will – my highest recommendation possible, gushing over the darn thing and showering it with praise that can seldom be matched. I might as well stop here. But I believe an element of the story sums up the film in a nutshell. In the beginning, when Marc was rushing to the dead body of the psychic, he briefly saw a painting hanging on the wall of the hallway that lead to her room that looked suspicious. Until the end, he questions whether what he saw was something authentic or something imagined. It looked like a face in the picture; a human face, but he can’t be too sure. That’s how I feel whenever I watch this film. It’s a work of art that is just far too sublime to take in upon a single viewing. Every time I watch it, I find that I need to watch it once more just to absorb the essential details. You watch it and then you look within yourself for some rational explanation to it all. What I do now is stop thinking so hard and accept that the surrealistic artistry of Argento is – or at least used to be – his ability to manipulate our minds in such ways that we are overwhelmed and ever-so-vulnerable.