Dust off your star-fleet uniform, put on your pointy ears, and brush up on your Klingon; J.J. Abrams and friends are back to bring you another adventure aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise. Through a deep thatch of blinding lens flair and an odd before & after title that even Pat Sajak would stop Vanna from revealing, Star Trek Into Darkness delivers everything one expects from it. High stakes action, flashy special effects, and new twists on a beloved universe all come through, but are weighed down by a questionable story that exploits and bastardizes aspects of the original T.V. and film series.

X number of time has passed since Kirk and his crew saved the universe from the clutches of a mad Romulan. Recently saving another civilization from Kirk is thrilled by the prospect his heroic actions pushed him into the fast lane for another promotion, but when it becomes clear the higher ups know his success came at the hands of breaking too many rules, he’s swiftly demoted instead. Though, before the paperwork that would send Kirk back to the academy can even be signed, a twisted terrorist blows up the star-fleet archives in central London. Soon enough, Kirk is back the game, tracking down the man responsible for this horrific crime, at the behest of Star-fleet Admiral, Alexander Marcus (Holy crap, I didn’t know Peter Weller was in this movie!). Kirk and his crew learn that this murderer, John Harrison (Benedict Cumberbatch) is hiding out on the Klingon home world, Kronos. Loaded up with a stock pile of experimental torpedoes, Kirk is tasked with one order; find Harrison, point every single torpedo at his location, and fire. Will Kirk carry out his orders to willfully murder a man, or will he disobey his superiors to find out more information behind a highly questionable attack.

This is one of those times where it’s exceedingly difficult to clearly state my issues with a film, without ruining the entire story for everyone, and I’m not about to do that. Suffice it say, there are points in the story that borrow heavily from previous Star Trek adventures. Borrow is not even a strong enough word to illustrate the unoriginality of the film’s major sections. It’s fine to play off old character archetypes and foibles, but to rest all the emotional heights of your film on “clever” re-imaginings of historic events in the Star Trek canon simply won’t fly.

In the first J.J. Abrams Star Trek, the idea that his films were taking place in an alternate universe was born. This means audiences could enjoy the same characters and somewhat similar situations in a completely new light, allowing them to indulge in brand new adventures while not having to play to every single aspect of the source material. However, instead of building and expanding on this idea, Abrams and his writers just rehash all the same old jokes and morality plays with their little twists and turns added in. They have an unimaginable high budget and all the new technology to play with, and all we get is just a fancier version of what we’ve already seen before. If you wanted to be in the business of remakes, don’t set up your alternate universe. Changing the situations so characters switch places in the same events of the past is not enough, start to actually alter what happens, or just make a straight remake.

The plot also suffers from over complicating the events, which builds up more time for questionable writing. Harrison is billed as a super human who single handily takes out multiple squads of a battle tested alien race and their ships, all while on foot without a scratch on him for his troubles. When I say that, it’s all literal too, that is no exaggeration. Yet, his terrorist dealings were nothing more than a ploy to get a certain group of people into a single room to murder them all (don’t worry, this is all happens very early in the film). However, the character the audience is sold could easily walk into the front doors of star-fleet and fight his way up to the top floor all Oldboy style, kill his targets and go for tea in the span of 10 minutes, without killing a bunch of innocent people in the interim. You might be thinking, “yeah, but he doesn’t know where his targets may be, or he still needs information from them, etc.” No, Harrison literally knows everything as he’s the one who tells both the crew and the audience what is going on before Spock could look it up or call someone for advice on the matter.

While it’s unclear how much time has passed since the events of the 2009 film, it becomes harder to really connect with the crew. Since they all look so young still, are they that young? Or are they meant to be older or wiser based on their fantastic exploits? Kirk is still a child like presence here, I’m not sure if his stubbornness is born out of his young age  at this point in the story, or just a play on the original character. I do feel that Chris Pine reeled in his performance from the first picture and carried himself better this time, but it doesn’t change the fact I’m lost when it comes to the both the mental and physical age his Kirk is supposed to portray. Overall there are no real bad performances in the film, but everyone, even the disgustingly brilliant Benedict Cumberbatch has a scene of swelled up over acting. Abrams seems to insist on have a lot of extreme close ups during every emotional scene, and the closer you get to someone’s face when they are scrunching up their face in saddened feelings, the more grandiose and exaggerated their physical actions become. Combine the actors choices to not so subtly display these facial expressions with those extreme close ups in “3-D” projected onto an IMAX screen, and everything is bound to come off as overly melodramatic.

Much like Iron Man 3, if you’re heading out to see Stark Trek Into Darkness for nothing more than action and adventure, you’ll be pleased. Even I could not be unimpressed and upset with the best use of the Vulcan nerve pinch I’ve ever seen. While Star Trek Into Darkness feels like a tragic miss-step to me in almost every way, I’m interested to see the oncoming debate between true die hard Trekkies. It’s my feeling that this film is going to create a rift in the factions of adoring fans that have eagerly awaited the first full on adventure of the new Enterprise crew. There may be plenty to argue about with your friends when it comes to the unevenness of the film, but it doesn’t make up for the failing attempt to create something new, that is still the same old song and dance.

Rating: 2 and a half out of 5 ‘Staches

From the moment the news rang out that Baz Luhrmann was going to make a version of The Great Gatsby with Leonardo DiCarprio and Carey Mulligan, and in 3-D no less, people promptly began losing their shit. The prospect of one of America’s most discussed, analyzed, and loved novels getting a stylishly unnecessary glossy 3-D finish excited more people than I expected. As always, I held my breath and hoped for the best, wishing that I may actually be amazed and in love with the results. While the majority census for the film is one of glowing applause and praise, I once again find myself one of the few shouting voices from the bottom of the pile calling out a message of distaste and disbelief.

Being that the story of The Great Gatsby is required reading in most schools, and so well known by even those who weren’t forced to read it, I find it prudent to skip my traditional plot summary and jump right into my issues with this adaptation. The fact of the matter is the story as a whole isn’t changed much at all. The largest and by far, most egregious err made in this area rests in the explanation of how the story is told. Nick Carraway’s narration is fed through a choppily hashed up creation of having Nick residing in a psychiatric/rehab home where his Doctor convinces him to write about the experiences that lead him there. Every so often we are shipped back to Carraway and his Doctor in flash of misguided comedy. The need to create a reason for a narration is mind boggling to me; why tack on a completely unnecessary portion to the story that does nothing to enhance either the stories structure or moral presence?

In actuality, there are just two aspects of Baz Luhrmann’s The Great Gatsby that push my buttons; the acting and the atmosphere, let’s start with the former. Now, I don’t want to simply badmouth someone’s performance and not give credit for the good they do. Tobey Maguire certainly does rein his performance in at the closing sections of the film, but the first half has him taking some of Fitzgerald’s poetic passages and turning them into hokey garble.

The words discharge from him mouth like a Taco Bell induced diarrhea explosion, eradicating the beauty behind the writer’s sentiments. DiCaprio doesn’t fair all that well at times also, with his delivery of the character’s identifying “old sport” catchphrase becoming grating all too quickly. It’s not the over use of the words, as the character is meant to say it way too much, but his over pronunciation and foolish exuberance in the delivery is simply too much. His moments of character breakdowns also reach to the far edge of ridiculousness, destroying too much of the illusion. There’s an argument to be made that it’s all intentional, that his proper self is so flawed compared to his “public” image, but it never melds for me. The Gatsby the story first introduces may just be a facade, but the disconnection between the two faces of the man exists on such different planes here.

The Great Gatsby is supposed to be decedent, extravagant, and over the top throughout; yet the level Baz Luhrmann takes it to flies straight out of the atmosphere. If the film’s level of vivacious style existed as a knob on a Nigel Tufnel guitar amp, it would go to 32. This wouldn’t bother me if the film was made by someone other than Baz, whose traditional style was generally tame. The story is all a foil for criticizing the bastardization of the American dream, so the partying life of the wealthy in the roaring twenties should be larger than life, but for a Baz Luhrmann film, it’s just life as usual. The fever dream that exists in Lurhmann’s head is commonplace now, deflating its meaningful existence in the world of Gatsby. It may be Baz’s plan to bring classics to a modern audience by pumping up a glamorous style and filling it with modern music; and doing it once is fine. Making it a mission that overbears every aspect of every film is kind of sad, though. If you really feel the need to talk to a younger audience, simply update the era. Not everything needs to be manhandled to make it appeal to a younger audience. As I said, the story is practically 100% intact in comparison to both the book and the 1974 movie, which means the audience is getting the same thing they’ve experienced before, just louder in both sound and visuals.

One of my favorite musicians, Joe Henry, wrote a tune called “Our Song, ” which is very much (whether intentional or not) a story that explores the same messages as The Great Gatsby. It’s all about how a man believes that the worst bits of the world he lives in gives him the small chance to be a better man, and how his entire thought process is brought on by the belief he just saw one of his hero’s in the middle of the same simple task many of us partake in, day to day. Much like The Great Gatsby the song is a cautionary tale about the damages of the American dream, however, there is one verse of the song that jumps out at me in regards to my feelings for the real effect of Baz Luhrmann’s attempt to excite the younger masses. “We push in line at the picture show, For cool air and a chance to see, A vision of ourselves portrayed as, Younger and braver and humble and free.”

I’m not typically the type of person who sees motion pictures as simply an entertaining escape from reality, but there is something to be said about a movie’s power to reach a special place in someone’s heart and mind in regards to a life now passed. Now, in no way is The Great Gatsby ever intending to portray its character’s lifestyles in a purely positive light, it’s hard not to feel that too many people who are not familiar with the story will walk out thinking they just watch a simple love story, or react to only the glitz and glamour of these gloriously lush lifestyles. For the longest time, people have been heading to the movies for the escapist mentality, and that’s fine if they are heading to see Transformers or something mindless, but The Great Gatsby shouldn’t be that movie. I’m not saying it should be a film that reminds people of a time that was, but it shouldn’t perpetuate something it was not.

Is The Great Gatsby a pile of trash? No. Does Baz Lurhmann let all the symbolism of the story lay on the back burner to care about nothing but the style? Definitely not; the story is intact, and what I find egregiously miserable about the film obviously stems from a large issue with the state of film making in general.  Still, these are my thoughts and this is what struck me as important whilst watching the film, leaving me with nothing to say about Baz Luhrmann’s The Great Gatsby other than, meh.

Rating: 2 out of 5 ‘Staches



 



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]]> http://shalitsstache.com/?feed=rss2&p=3522 0 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3516 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3516#comments Tue, 30 Apr 2013 15:54:11 +0000 shal3829 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3516 Movie Review by Matthew Schuchman

Leading up to its U.S. release, I’ve seen some highly positive things being written about Iron Man 3. No matter what I see or read, I always enter a film with no expectations, leaving those tidbits I hear in passing in the back of my mind. Walking out of Iron Man 3 though, those few glowing quotes and opinions I did catch a whiff of came rushing into my conscious leaving me with one thought; “What movie did these people watch?” While the action portions of the film were fun and interesting, the rest of Iron Man 3 is a pumped up mess of contradictions and yawns.

The alien invasion thwarted off by The Avengers is long past, but Tony Stark can’t shake the anxiety and fear that washes over him brought on by the knowledge he gained from that experience. Unable to firmly wrap his head around the existence of Gods, Aliens, and tripping through a wormhole, Tony spends his days tinkering in his lab. The crime fighting aspects of his inventions are left in the hands of his friend Colonel Rhodes, whose War Machine suit has been run through a paint job, leaving him cavorting around as the Iron Patriot now. The world is being held under the menacing thumb of a terrorist madman known only as, The Mandarin. When The Mandarin’s newest attack harms someone close to Stark, he decides to return to the crime fighting game and directly threatens The Mandarin. Entering into a battle with a man he truly doesn’t understand, Stark is soon caught in the heat of a massive confrontation, still unable to get proper control of his nerves, and without the help of the majority of his brilliant creations.

There’s no real way to concisely explain all the problems with Iron Man 3, without ruining every aspect of its faulty story. Having a twist as a main plot point is nothing new in cinema, but it feels like everyone expects one now to make a story worth their time. The makers of Iron Man 3 certainly seem to think so, filling the adventure with not one, not two or three, but four plot twists; with another handful of situational mini-twists thrown in. Most, if not all are fairly transparent, but worst of all the dialogue devices used to reveal the no-so-clever surprise, directly contradict aspects of the other twists within. Iron Man 3 is a clear example of, ‘Give them action and laughs, and hopefully they’ll overlook all the crap in-between.” Personally, I find Iron Man 3‘s presentation to be insulting, as there is also plenty of hypocrisy living in the action as well.

Characters that have the ability to regenerate damaged body parts and dissected limbs inhabit most of the film’s fight scenes. The level of explanation behind the varying powers and abilities of these henchmen is hardly explored, leaving the playing field of how some easily die over others, insanely uneven. Some characters are also implied to harness these abilities, yet don’t abide by any rules of their existence. With no true explanation if these regenerative powers are voluntary or not create another conundrum in justifying the film’s inexplicable plot twist devices. All of this is topped off with the king of all plot fumbles where the hero waits to the very last second to pull off a master stroke of tactical brilliance that could have helped him out 40 minutes into the movie, ending everything right there.

Don’t get me wrong, there are some worthy parts to the film. Downey Jr. is as fun as ever, taking full advantage of his time spent trading quips with a young kid he seeks aid from, and as I stated, the action sequences are engaging and playful. Ben Kingsley is also a hoot, even through his slight over delivery that actually sees a warranted explanation; the only proper explanation in the entire film, in fact. Aside from those few portions though, there is one thing or another that just does not play well, in this movie. Whether it’s the larger issues I already discussed or the small annoyances that pop out; like how Stark and Rhodes pick a T.G.I. Fridays as the best place to talk about national secrets, Iron Man 3 just raises more questions marks than entertainment.

Finally, it’s also boringly long. The film is no longer than most of its The Avengers counter parts, but it felt like an eternity between start and finish. Slap that on top of the see-saw story of little exploitation, and you’re left with that 80s puff comic movie of the spurned bad guy with a big budget, and nothing else.

Rating: 2 out of 5 ‘Staches



 



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]]> http://shalitsstache.com/?feed=rss2&p=3516 0 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3509 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3509#comments Fri, 29 Mar 2013 04:01:43 +0000 shal3829 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3509 Movie Review by Matthew Schuchman

When it comes to the Twilight series, it is safe to say I am filled with little to no love for its existence. Though for as stubbornly critical as I am, everything gets its fair chance in the sun. I knew nothing about The Host before seeing it; for all I knew Stephenie Meyer’s first non-Twilight novel was a mature, brilliantly crafted masterpiece. That being said, if I had the chance to place a hefty bet beforehand that The Host is a flimsy attempt at a deep story, stolen from properly inventive sources, I would be a millionaire right now. Written for the screen and directed by Andrew Niccol, The Host is flaccid, offensive, faulty, and lost. All in all, this film is worthless.

The Earth of the future is in a state of complete peace. Unfortunately, the non-violent, copacetic world is not the result of a revolutionary treaty, but instead the circumstance of an alien invasion. A foreign race known as Souls (tennis ball sized creatures that look like glow in the dark house caterpillars), have inhabited the bodies of almost every citizen of Earth. The few humans left live in hiding, working toward taking back the planet. Melanie Stryder is doing her best to keep her brother and boyfriend alive, and only has one way of making sure they are never found when she is surrounded by a group of Souls; she needs to kill herself. Jumping to her death, Melanie somehow still holds onto a string of life, allowing the Souls to take over her body. Now host (OHHHHHHH, I TOTALLY GET IT NOW!) to a Soul named Wanderer, Melanie’s mind and voice live on, sharing a single body with a filthy alien Soul. It is not long before Wanderer becomes affected by Melanie’s memories and the two body sharing entities head off “together” to find Melanie’s family, who are hidden deep in the desert. They are not alone though, as a Soul hell bent on crushing the final existence of humanity is hot on their trail, fueled by the thought that Melanie’s family is the heart of the Human resistance.

The cornball nature of the story begins to seep out as soon as the lights go down and profusely oozes out until the theater is drowned in a thick salve of sappy buffoonery. It took no longer than a single minute of William Hurt’s voice, mapping out the world of The Host before I began to sigh out of frustrated disbelief. When I wasn’t winching at the pain caused by the melodramatic love triangle plot point (Stephenie Meyer’s obviously has a three-way fetish), my brain was hemorrhaging from the comical fighting voice of Melanie as she berated her unwanted body-mate. Never before has a disembodied voice been so tragically pathetic and moronic as in The Host. The sarcastic quips transmitted by Melanie sound more like the sassy comebacks of Blaine and Antoine from In Living Color’s Men on Films skits, than an actual person who is angry and distraught over their tragic predicament. It came to the point I wanted to stab myself in the ear to rid myself of the voices in someone elses head.

It is hard to pinpoint who is to blame for the story’s multitude of questionable plot holes. Obviously, it is easy to call out Meyer and rip into her because everything starts with her novel, but the more I think about it, I have to believe Andrew Niccol did not have the guts or foresight to correct major mistakes when adapting the piece; that, or his ability to produce a sensible film no longer exists. In his last feature, In Time, Niccol created a futuristic world where cars had live T.V. pumped into their consoles and scientists could embed life clocks into people’s arms, keeping them eternally young, while living forever, as long they could acquire, “more time.” Yet, in this same world where Oedipal complexes must have run rampant, no one invented a fucking cell phone so Justin Timberlake’s mother could call him to say, “Shit, my time is running out, meet me here to give me some time so I don’t die.” The same lapse of common sense exists throughout The Host. The only differentiating physicality between Humans and Souls is that a body inhabited by a Soul has eyes that glow blueish-white. So to disguise themselves while going into public, humans wear sunglasses to hide their eyes, instead of, I don’t know, wearing the same fucking contact lenses that the actors do to make their eyes look that way! Just as well, if the Souls know humans wear sunglasses at all times of the day to hide their eyes, why not ban sunglasses. It sure would make their jobs a whole lot easier.

Even though the film opens after the invasion of the glow-stick insects, the details of how the Souls exist, travel, and inhabit our species renders the entire story implausible. It is stated that the Souls travel from planet to planet, taking over the bodies of the living until they need to move onto another planet, and that these worldly travels take centuries, in our time. The Souls, who literally fit into a pair of cupped hands, surf the universe in little silver containers that land on a special grid made of some sort of tractor beam to guide them in. Once on Earth, they have to be inserted into a body, by having an already hosted human cut a hole in the back of a new host’s neck, so the Soul can climb in. So taking all of that into consideration, how in God’s name did they take over in the first place? Let’s assume that their special landing pad is only there to make the trip easier, that means one of their pods could have fallen to earth. Even that being the case, how did they get into a human body? Did someone randomly try to kill themselves by slitting open the back of their neck, only to trip onto the Soul that was luckily there to witness the occasion? Maybe they sent instructions to Earth, ala Contact, explaining how to build their landing site and how to communicate with them by inserting a Soul into a human body. Even then, after the first test, when high ranking officials understood the implications, they would have ended that experiment quickly, and crushed the rest of the Souls under their feet.

Taking advantage of the Invasion of the Body Snatchers lore to make a gushy love story between a girl and her invading parasite, while being sequestered by William Hurt and Frances Fisher in a cave full of Abecrombie and Fitch models, certainly explains the extent of depth in this painful 125 minute film. The story attempts to explore the actual morals and spiritual aspects of human life, but fails to attach to anything purposeful, and when it gets close, just drowns it all in kisses and face slaps. The Host is nothing more than a continuation of trash where no resolution solves any real problems, all of which is raised to prominence by lovesick tweens and disenfranchised wives, the end.

Rating: 1 out of 5 ‘Staches






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]]> http://shalitsstache.com/?feed=rss2&p=3509 0 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3500 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3500#comments Wed, 06 Mar 2013 13:00:42 +0000 shal3829 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3500 Movie Review by Matthew Schuchman
Edited by Evan La Ruffa

No matter what your personal feelings are towards The Wizard of Oz, there’s no argument what an important and beloved film it has become to the global collective conscious. As great as the temptation to revisit the world of Oz appears to have been, some may still say it’s a mistake to attempt an addition to the story. Despite any naysayers, with Sam Raimi at the helm, Oz The Great and Powerful is a delightful adventure. At times it’s hindered with somewhat farcical performances and too much fluff, but it’s also the context for some truly gorgeous moments and blasts of powerful brilliance.

Squeaking a living out of his work as a magician for a traveling circus, Oscar Diggs (referred to by all, as Oz) is a classic showman. He’s also a womanizer, a charlatan, a creep, and a liar. Treating everyone he encounters as simpletons not worthy of his presence, Oz lives under the delusion that he is meant for greatness. When he upsets another member of his traveling companions, Oz is forced to flee the circus via hot air balloon. Oz’s escape comes at an unfortunate time though, as his course of travel sends him right into an oncoming twister. As you’ve probably guessed, that twister delivers the showman into the magical land of Oz, where he’s swiftly met by a kind witch who recants the tale of a prophecy; that of a man who shares a name with the land of Oz, who will save its inhabitants from the clutches of an evil witch bent on destruction.  Fueled by the promise of riches and glory, not by the reward of noble kindness, Oz accepts this challenge and sets off without a clue as to what he will do.

Aside from the egregious overacting, the opening of Oz is stammeringly ingenious. The credit sequence alone is awe inspiring and emotionally fulfilling, which leads directly into the black and white, 4:3 aspect ratio opening that exudes a level of genuine nostalgia. This section of the film looks as if it were a rich photo come to life in a mystical stroke of trickery. In a time where CGI makes anything possible, it’s hard to be impressed with even the most outstanding feats in visual technology, but Oz The Great and Powerful’s opening imagery harkens back to a time when the moving image was like magic to unsuspecting viewers. If the film was released as a short, and consisted of this section only, it would be the best picture of the year.

Expanding to the full size of the screen and bursting with color, the Oz portion of the film is still a lovely site, but the steady stream of computer animated backgrounds take away from the overall wonder. Matte paintings and miniatures still feels like a better option when trying to portray the grand scale of brave new worlds. This doesn’t mean every green screen effect is unworthy. Oz’s traveling companions, Glinda’s billows of smoke, and other inhabitants of Oz are still fascinating and lively to the naked eye. Basing a film world in a computer-generated landscape may help with today’s 3D adventures, but I yearn for a return to a time of puppets and tangible backdrops.

However, and this is a big however, for all my complaining about 3D and calling for its demise, Sam Raimi and his team have delivered the gold standard in this visual art. The 3D work is truly artistic and entertaining. From the luscious depth of field to the actual objects flying out of the screen, Raimi is the first director to take total control of this technology and use it not only as it’s expected to be used, but to also bend it to his will and create new and wondrous aspects out of his trademark visuals. While Raimi has always thrown in pieces of his past persona into all of his films, this one is the most Sam Raimi-centric picture, since Army of Darkness. His fans will latch onto his homages to himself and rejoice in giddy exuberance.

Oz The Great and Powerful is only injured by its attempts to be overly comical at times, and the hokey performances by all of the actors. It’s hard to tell if everyone was attempting to portray their parts as if they were actors in 1933, or if they all just let the experience go to their heads, but they all need to dial back their delivery. There is one exception though, which surprisingly comes from Zach Braff. As Oz’s faithful assistant in his dull, circus existence, Braff joins the club with everyone else and piles on the cheese just a little too much. Though, in the wonderful realm of Oz, Braff voices the bellhop suited monkey Finley, who pledges his life to work for Oz. Finley is the gem of the film and Braff is brilliant at delivering quick-witted dialogue.

Slightly deflated when it can’t live up to the true genius of its opening act, Oz The Great and Powerful still comes out a winner through its silliness and off-track actors. This might have been an enjoyable film in the hands of many directors, but Oz The Great and Powerful succeeds due to the guiding hand and unique vision of Sam Raimi, who deserves mountains of recognition for what he was able to accomplish. His delivery of this story and brilliant use of today’s 3D technology is the best I’ve seen thus far.

Rating: 3 and a half out of 5 ‘Staches



 



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]]> http://shalitsstache.com/?feed=rss2&p=3500 0 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3496 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3496#comments Thu, 28 Feb 2013 05:38:12 +0000 shal3829 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3496 Movie Review by Matthew Schuchman

If you’ve never heard the name Park Chan-wook, you might at least be familiar with some of his films; Oldboy in particular is a name almost everyone has heard. Atmospheric, beautiful, and tense, his films are unapologetic when they come to unsettling images of that make the strongest stomachs queasy in disgust. Slightly worried he would push the envelope for his first English language film, Park Chan-wook actually reeled in his gory madness for a tamer, yet sufficiently psychotic atmosphere with Stoker. While the film explores some interesting ideas, it still rests on uneven ground in the finality of its story.

When the phone rings on her 18th birthday, India Stoker learns her father has just died in a horrific car wreck. Quiet, shy, and still childish, India’s father was the world to her and she is not looking forward to life alone with her mother. On the day of the funeral, an unexpected visitor shows up, India’s Uncle Charlie. To this day, India wasn’t even aware she had an uncle. Recently returning from his travels abroad, Charlie feels he needs to spend some time with his grieving family, moving in with the young India and her mother Evelyn. Bothered by the fact she never heard about Charlie before, it isn’t long before India notices there is something very odd about this mysterious family member.  Determined to discover what twisted secrets live within her family, India begins to grow and discover things about herself as she uncovers the truth about her long lost uncle.

To call Stoker an awkward viewing experience is putting it lightly. The stop and start nature of its scene structures can be unsettling and confusing at times. It’s hard to sit and criticize the film over that fact because as an audience member, you’re supposed to feel uneasy with every aspect of Stoker, but ultimately the style does feel frustrating in the moment. If you’re willing to let Stoker rest with you for a bit before making your final decision over its worth as a film, you’ll find yourself pleasantly surprised with the outcome, though it’s easy to walk out complaining about the pace and editing style.

There are some wonderfully explored notions entwined in Stoker that deal with the comparisons of how we see certain parts of our lives differently from our childhood into adulthood. In a way, that is really what Stoker is all about, though delivered in a darkly morbid tale. Still, the small notes and visual cues that help unfold this aspect of the story are fascinating and cleverly weaved throughout the film. If you’re not paying attention, they’re easy to miss, or feel like simple throwaways in an odd story. The problem is that the outcome of the film feels like it contradicts everything else that leads up to that point. Somewhere in the character’s process, a preconceived thought was molested and took a strange turn that doesn’t seem to fit the mold.

Park Chan-wook succeeds in delivering another stylish piece of work complete with vivid colors and impeccable framing, even if some of it feels overly deliberate and slightly corny at times. There are large hints of Hitchcock through out the film, separate from its slight reminiscence to Shadow of a Doubt. Like Oldboy, the film contains story aspects that are not even hinted at before they fly out of left field. People are often off put by late game twists, but it works in the strange universe built within Stoker. Even if you can see it all coming, there are aspects of the truth behind Charlie that are still shocking and disturbing.

As a whole, Stoker feels weak in ways, but sticks in one’s head like a vivid nightmare. The lush settings and off kilter world are mesmerizing in ways that are hard to understand during the viewing process, but pulsate and grow in the days after it all ends. Much like the shock of learning you have a family member you never heard of before, Stoker will feel strange at first, but for better or worse will stay with you in ways you may not want to deal with, but somehow accept.

Rating: 3 out of 5 ‘Staches






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]]> http://shalitsstache.com/?feed=rss2&p=3496 0 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3488 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3488#comments Wed, 27 Feb 2013 20:22:20 +0000 shal3829 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3488 Movie Review by Matthew Schuchman

With the Harry Potter universe filmed to completion, the new fad to rake in the box office dollars is turning short fairy tales into action adventure films. By twisting moral hearts into a mangled ball of unimaginative fluff, they’ve beefed up of the tale of Jack and the Beanstalk with a lazy, overdone love story as its backdrop. Jack the Giant Slayer is caged on the screen in a blanket of uninspiring malaise that wastes the talents of its impressive cast.

As a young boy, Jack’s father would read him the legendary tale of an ancient battle between humans and giants. It began when humans attempted to reach heaven with the use of special beans they created. When the giants came down the beanstalk, they began ravaging the resources of the land, and when one got a taste for human blood, a war was waged. Forming a crown from a melted giant heart, the humans found a way to control the giants and banished them to their floating rock. To be sure, these events never repeated themselves. Both the crown and remaining beans were hidden from anyone’s reach.

Now a young man, the parent-less Jack (Nicholas Hoult) is sent by his uncle to sell their horse and cart so they can fund repairs to their dilapidated farmhouse. While in town, the easily distracted Jack gets into a fight over a young maiden’s honor, and ends up losing his horse to the monk who had just stolen the famous magic beans from a nefarious man who found the relics. Fearing he will be caught and tortured, the monk leaves Jack with the beans before running off with the boy’s dirty nag. One thing leads to another, and on a rainy night Jack finds himself alone in his farmhouse with the kingdom’s princess (who happens to be the maiden whom he defended earlier). Then, a huge beanstalk lifts the young lovers and the house up to the sky, Jack falls back to earth, and the princess finds herself stuck in a new world of evil, vindictive giants. Along with the palace guards, and the princess’s fiancé’ (the man who first found the beans), Jack ventures up the beanstalk to save the girl he is falling for, and finally become the man he was meant to be.

Just trying to summarize the overstuffed story of Jack the Giant Slayer is painful. Highly silly and filled with massive holes, the entirety of the trumped up tale seems pointless and annoying. First of all, if the humans never wanted the giants to be found again, why not destroy the beans instead of hiding them? The nasty Lord Roderick’s plan was to reach the land of the giants, don the crow that controlled them, and conquer all the lands with these massive beasts as his minions; the classic power trip. Except, against the princesses will, Roderick was going to be wed to her and be the next king, which would put him in control of the kingdom’s armies; he couldn’t wait to take control of it all and take over the world then? He certainly decided to wait, and hold onto those beans for a while. We don’t know how long he had them before the events of the film start, but he definitely wasn’t in any rush to plant them. Fantasy film or not, every movie should be able to abide by a few simple rules to make sure they aren’t filled with groupings of confusing missteps.

Most egregiously annoying, is the love story. It’s true, I myself will go above and beyond my normal complacent natures to impress a woman, but it’s come to the point where every film rests on this simple ideal to carry their story. It’s offensive at this point to believe no man of the silver screen can better himself for little more than to get his dick wet. Even more upsetting is that, once more, an audience is subjected to the now sickening dilemma of how a simple farm boy will be allowed to marry the royal heir, with no royal lineage of his own to speak of. Yeah, I haven’t sat and watched Spaceballs in a long time, but if your idea of a brilliant story is just rehashing the circumstances of a spoof, it’s time to go back to the drawing board.

Resting underneath these overall issues are heaps of smaller fumbles that rack my brain still, as I write this. The giants may not be the sharpest tools in the shed, but they certainly were smart enough to create harnesses so they could hang off the edges of their floating rock to sculpt monuments, but they didn’t think to just lengthen those harnesses to lower them back down to earth? As well, these monuments are large heads that spit out rivers of water. Where does all that water go? You’d figure a river running off the edge of their world would just create spots of perpetual rain on the land below. Based on the logistics of the films geography, Jack’s home should have been washed away in a constant stream of running water, before he was even born. This is just another example of filmmakers being caught up in trying to be clever with creating a world they think will amaze their audience, instead of paying attention to crafting a smart script.

In yet another example of a 3D movie with nothing in it that is actually 3D, Jack the Giant Slayer is the definition of flat film making. Basic and forgettable in every area that counts, Jack the Giant Slayer did nothing more than to slay my interests in going anywhere near it when it hits the cable circuit.
Rating: 2 out of 5 ‘Staches



 



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]]> http://shalitsstache.com/?feed=rss2&p=3488 0 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3465 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3465#comments Fri, 01 Feb 2013 04:01:04 +0000 shal3829 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3465 Movie Review by Matthew Schuchman

Zombies are so hot right now! With The Walking Dead blowing up viewership records, there’s no better time than ever to join the dragging conga line of mindless reanimated corpses marching toward the bank. Of course, you probably already know that Warm Bodies is here to throw out the mindless aspect of the undead universe and look at things from the point of view of these undead cash cows. Warm Bodies succeeds on providing a certain entertainment factor, but ultimately suffers from showing all the best parts in its trailers.

R (Nicholas Hoult) is a lifeless zombie who spends his days roaming around a decrepit airport that houses a high volume of walking meat sacks. Showing signs he understands what has become of the world, he can’t remember what he used to do for a living, or even his full name; just that it starts with R. He has a good friend, M (Rob Corddry), that he tries to converse with through a series of grunts and sometimes the odd word they are able to form. He has his own kitschy set-up in an airplane that he fills with trinkets he finds, and where he listens to his collection of vinyl records.

When R and M get a craving for some tasty human meat, they run into a group of young living souls out on a mission to gather medical supplies. When R catches a glimpse of the beautiful, breathing Julie (Teresa Palmer, still resembling Kristen Stewart) something stirs inside him, and things begin to change. Saving Julie from being eaten by his friends, R takes her to safety inside his airplane abode. R always knew there was something different about him, but spending time with Julie starts to bring back his humanity. The changes that R experiences begin to spread to the other zombies, but they meet an opposition to their change in the form of Boneys; the moniker given to the skeletal race of undead that have far passed that point of no return.

Warm Bodies rests in an odd state of limbo in reference to the type of audience it appeals to. With thinly veiled allusions to Romeo & Juliette (R and Juile, duh!), the movie is sort of like wrestling. It’s long been argued that the WWE is like a soap opera for men, and Warm Bodies is easily Twilight for dudes. A majority of the movie is spent watching R and Julie bonding over music and joy riding around the airfield R claims is too unsafe for her to be hanging around in. The events are humorous and not overly sappy, but they soak up an atmosphere that speaks more to the generalized female aspects of a love story than anything else. The majority of Twilight haters get more upset that instead of blowing up into a splatter of blood and dust, the vampires sparkle like silver glitter in the sunlight. The fact the zombies of Warm Bodies start to regain their human faculties is the entire point of the film, so I don’t see it irking purists, but I wonder if they decided to change other facets of the story, would people be up in arms? How would genre die-hards react if the zombies in Warm Bodies ate only cows instead of humans?

Strangely, it’s still the love story that becomes the weakest part of the film. Having a young walker fall in love with a living girl to jump start his evolution back to a pulse pumping state seems obvious, but the social order between the boneys and the zombies was more intriguing. Those plot points get resolved, but they are set on a back burner through the first half of the film, leaving me restless when glimmers of the zombie class system breeze by. For that matter, the friendship between R and M felt like a more compelling story as well. It’s understandable that you can’t have Julie warm up to R at the snap of the fingers, and that relationship needs to flourish and expand–but a more balanced attempt at focusing more on every angle would have been more fascinating.

Building the world of a true zombie land where the undead have thoughts and needs anyone can connect to is a fine idea; and as the trailers do show it lends to a wealth of funny material. Like I said earlier though, almost every single one of those witty moments is in the trailers. The stem of Warm Bodies grows no further than what was chosen to show audiences before they even pay to see the movie. This doesn’t affect the overall point or even enjoyability of the film, but it creates a high aura of disappointment in ways. This doesn’t mean there is nothing to discover within the film. Rob Corddry as M has some funny lines that are not in any previews, but it’s the fact he is not just used as a comic foil that I appreciated. He has plenty of tender and serious moments that let him spread his wings. As well, John Malkovich as Julie’s father plays a very straight forward character. His one line about zombie’s not turning vegan from the trailer plays very differently on screen. They didn’t make his character an uncouth caricature, and that plays well against the lighter side of the movie.

No film is without its insignificant issues, and while Warm Bodies definitely checks in with a low number of these foibles, the few it has are substantially mind boggling. R’s growing intellect in the years before the movie starts is obvious, but how in the world does he get constant power to a kick-ass sound system inside an airplane all set up? There is also a very important plot point introduced that I can’t bring myself to accept. Zombies all of a sudden gaining back their heartbeats and minds–fine by me. The idea that they gain the memories of the person whose brain they are eating, however–complete bullshit. I’m sorry, that just lands in a realm of absolute nonsense that’s not even worth trying to understand.

Warm Bodies does its job in the end. It doesn’t set its audience to sleep, and it houses some decent chuckles here and there. It does suffer from an unbalanced focus and of course, gives too much away before the thing is even released. All that being said, it’s still the first movie in this young year that I haven’t set into the scale of completely loathing, to forgetting about the day after I see it. There isn’t enough heat in Warm Bodies to bring it to a boil, but it does simmer a bit.

Rating: 3 out of 5 ‘Staches






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]]> http://shalitsstache.com/?feed=rss2&p=3465 0 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3477 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3477#comments Thu, 31 Jan 2013 19:50:36 +0000 shal3829 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3477 Movie Review by Matthew Schuchman

Historically as a genre, the gangster film is the most lauded style out there. Over the years the subjects of a gangster film have moved from only being about the big name, head honchos to focusing on every aspect of organized crime. While the aging gangster is not a new idea, a group of geriatric tough guys is a rarity. Resting heavily on the power of its leading men, Stand Up Guys does a poor job of coming together, and needs to be shuttled around in a wheelchair to even move across the room.

For the past 28 years, Val (Al Pacino) has been imprisoned after a botched robbery.  On the day of his release, Val’s only friend in the world, Doc (Christopher Walken) is there for his old friend; waiting at the prison gates to pick him up. Both men were on the same job, but Val was the only one caught, so Doc is willing to let his friend stay in his tiny apartment. Doc seems uneasy though, and it isn’t long before it becomes obvious that Doc has been tasked with a job, and even though he doesn’t say anything, Val kind of knows it. During their mishandled robbery, their was an accident, and the big man who pulls all the strings still wants Val to pay for his mistake. Instead of paying one of the many men incarcerated with Val to knock the loser off, bad man Claphands (Mark Margolis) let’s Val rot for those 28 years, only to have Doc kill him once he’s released. Torn by the task of having to kill his friend, Doc does everything he can to make Val’s final moments count, including kidnapping their old pal and wheel man Hirsch (Alan Arkin) out of his nursing home for a midnight joyride. Though, as Doc’s deadline approaches, a decision has to be made; kill Val, or run.

There’s a handful of movies out there that all follow the same plot–someone who’s inevitability die or go to prison being taken out for the time of his/her life, before the clock strikes twelve. 25th Hour is a popular title from this century that might jump to the minds of many readers, but Stand Up Guys feels a lot like a more violent version of David Mamet’s, Things Change. The big problem is, these other movies have a wealth of style and charm that is fairly void from Stand Up Guys. Val and Doc’s lives are so morbidly depressing, and their activity choices are common and sensible to their lifestyle are just so degrading, it’s tough to watch. It’s not until they pick up their buddy Hirsch until any semblance of joy enters the picture, and that’s all due to Alan Arkin.

Stand Up Guys is a pretty transparent story, you can tell where it’s going before every turn; the film’s success relies solely on the pull of its magnetic leading men. Unfortunately, the film mainly revolves around Pacino and Walken, and they are just miserable. Both as their characters and in their performances, they seem lost and uninspired. For the first half of the film, Walken’s performance felt like it literally had no direction, and by that I mean the director wasn’t present. We’re all used to and in love with Christopher’s famous form of dialogue delivery, but his out of the box silliness seemed unchecked at first. Too many lines drove me to multiple face palms of shame. Luckily, he was wrangled in half way though the movie, but the damage was already done. Pacino on the other hand was a little tamer when it comes to his signature move of yelling all the time. Still though, he was just calling in his performance. At certain times I began to think that this slobbery mess of man is what Pacino is like in real life, and someone just showed up with a camera to shoot it all.

Alan Arkin is the only shining point of the film. A celebrated talent who’s as in demand now, as much as he was early in his career, it’s obvious that his appeal as a treasure of acting greatness is under appreciated by the mainstream. At 79, Arkin isn’t nearly as physically or mentally challenged as his recent characters seem to illustrate. This is a spry, energetic man, and that trait comes through his most decrepit characters. He’s a breath of fresh air to the stale farts being passed by his now over appreciated counterparts. Stand Up Guys doesn’t have to be a happy go lucky movie to be interesting–it shouldn’t be, but its pitiful presentation doesn’t do enough to keep the viewer entertained. Of course, entertainment doesn’t need to be the major calling card of a film for it to work, but Stand Up Guys isn’t even thought provoking. All the important pieces that make a puzzle worth the time are all missing.

The film was directed by Fisher Stevens, and for those of you who don’t recognize the name, you definitely know the man. Most people will know Fisher as the Indian robotics genius Ben Jahrvi, who helped create the iconic Johnny 5 in both Short Circuit movies. A very important figure in Hollywood, Stevens has been a producer/director of some very important documentaries and stage productions in the past few years, including the film that placed a light on the shocking horrors of dolphin murder with, The Cove. He’s a talented guy and I wouldn’t take my disappointment in Stand Up Guys as a sign of continuous failure on his part in the future, but he is missing something in terms of how he directs other actors. I can see it being easy to just hand over the reigns when you’re given Pacino, Walken, and Arkin to work with; but he obviously needed to be more stout and steel-fisted when it came to the performances.

The simple answer is, Stand Up Guys just doesn’t have a leg to stand on. The combined power of its aging stars does more to sink the film than save it. Too much was left hoping their added celebrity status would make the movie and instant gem, but Stand Up Guys needs more than a good polishing to make it a good product.
Rating: 1 and a half out of 5 ‘Staches



 



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]]> http://shalitsstache.com/?feed=rss2&p=3477 0 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3481 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3481#comments Thu, 31 Jan 2013 19:17:44 +0000 shal3829 http://shalitsstache.com/?p=3481 Movie Review by Matthew Schuchman

January is the month of comparing Arnold Schwarzenegger’s return to every other action film out there. While Arnie was off signing legislative bills, Stallone was still plucking away with resurrecting Rocky, Rambo, and forming his superstar team of action hero elites. Though The Expendables films were rife with blood, bullets, and blades–they were playing off a very specific genre stereotype. Playing off another one of those stereotypes, I expected Bullet to the Head to be just another stupid beat ‘em up, with little to now redeeming values–and yes, the film is mighty shaky in so many ways, but it has three very important people that actually make this an interesting film; writer Alessando Camon, co-writer/director Walter Hill, and Sylvester ” Muther Fuckin’ “Stallone.

Jimmy Bobo (Stallone) and Louis Blanchard (Jon Seda) are accomplished hit men for hire. Their current hit could have gone a bit smoother, but they would certainly say it went off without a hitch. That is until, instead of being met with a bag of money for their work, they are met by a knife wielding gargantuan who wants nothing more than to see these two thugs dead. Jimmy escapes with his life intact, but he’s soon met by Taylor Kwon (Sung Kang) a Washington D. C. detective who’s in town to investigate the death of his former partner; who just happens to be the jerk-off Jimmy whacked to set this whole mess in motion. Kwon knows Bobo was responsible for the hit, but he also knows he was just a hired hand–so Kwon offers Jimmy a deal for the two to work together to uncover what is really going on. Initially turning Kwon down, Jimmy is practically forced to accept that the two need to work together, but Jimmy needs Kwon to understand that he makes the calls. Can this odd relationship of law and lawlessness work together without putting each other in the grave?

Bullet to the Head is based on a famous French graphic novel, Du Plomb Dans La Tete. Director Walter Hill does a bang up job of creating that comic book atmosphere, without really falling into the typical visual traps, or even making it an obvious attempt at doing so, at all. Walter Hill is a legend–this is the man who bought you The Warriors, produced ever single Alien movie, breathed new life into modern Westerns, and perfected the mismatched duo, comedy/drama genre with 48 Hours. He’s been away from the screen in the director’s chair for about 11 years, working more on T.V. projects like Deadwood and Broken Trail. If there’s one thing that Bullet to the Head proves, is that Hill has lost nothing in terms of his directorial eye, and has easily adapted to the grittier, darker style that dominates today’s action flicks. In the hands of a less accomplished director who is interested in style over everything else,  Bullet to the Head would have went straight into the trash can, piled under rotting banana peels and dirty diapers.

Now hold on, based on that last paragraph, you’d expect that I’m ready to give Bullet to the Head a four star review–unfortunately, the film’s story and most of the performances are still pretty lack luster and cliché. I think it’s time someone come up with something other than a politician’s shady real estate development plans as the evil plan that leads to piles of dead bodies, and a cadre of corrupt cops. So you’re probably saying, “Well Matthew, if the story is so bad, why did you commend writer Alessandro Camon in your opening?” Well, Camon doesn’t have a long list of credits behind his name yet, but he’s the man who wrote the very solemn 2009 Woody Harrelson drama, The Messenger. Does that give him a stay of execution, no; but the best parts of Bullet to the Head are not the fights and gun battles. The super magnetic aspects of Bullet to the Head are the scenes of witty banter between Jimmy and Kwon. I don’t know if most of the dialogue in those scenes can be qualified as one liners, but they deliver on all the goods you expect from a classic 80s action movie joke. This is the first time since Hill’s 48 Hours that I was excited to see the two leads get into a car together. I was more amped to know I was heading into a scene of pure dialogue than action between these two, because I knew I was going to be entertained by what comes out of their mouths–or should I say, Stallone’s mouth.

Let’s get something straight, many people will hear Stallone’s name and they’ll instantly think of one thing–his voice. Too many people see Sly as a juiced up moron who’s only good for one thing, screaming while shooting a gun. For people who forget that Stallone wrote Rocky and First Blood (a film that is not really an action movie and contains one of the most shockingly gut wrenching final monologues), or for those who never really sat and watched Copland (a Stallone performance that gets overlooked and should have garnered him an award);Stallone’s a smart guy who knows what he’s doing, and boy does he really hit the mark here. There’s no doubt that it’s the combination of Hill and Stallone that make this film work, but without Stallone none of this works. Jimmy Bobo is an unsympathetic low-life, through and through. He has practically no redeeming values and is completely unapologetic about it, and Sly sells it without making you fall in love with the character, yet still leaves you not hating his guts. That’s a tough card to play without rubbing people the wrong way, but he pulls it off. He also does wonders in delivering those cheeky lines that are actually funny, mainly due to his style and all in attitude to the worthless piece of crap he’s playing.

Still, for all the praise I want to pour on Hill and Stallone, Bullet to the Head is as faulty as they come in many most areas. Bullet to the Head is the perfect model of expecting the worst and being pleasantly surprised by the results, even though the combined pieces don’t hit it out of the park. Still, this is a great success for Walter Hill and Sylvester Stallone who both prove you don’t have to be the young gun to produce good work.

Rating: 2 and a half out of 5 ‘Staches



 



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