Don't Dread Dredd.

DREDD 3D (2012)

Image from flicksandbits.com.

So here's a funny story. I got two tickets to go see Dredd 3D for free. It was an early screening and one of the actors, Wood Harris, would be there. So I thought, why not? I figured it would be a decent, action-packed, sci-fi flick with a lot of gorgeous Lena Headey.

I was wrong. It was an excellent action-packed, sci-fi flick with a lot of gorgeous Lena Headey.

Being a BAMF.

Let me explain. It's been a long, long time since I've seen a solid, airtight action movie. Action movies these days (especially sci-fi action) always have one, creaky wheel that ruins the rest of the movie. Most of the time, they load up their budget on special effects and 3D eye-candy and forget that they actually need a script. This results in high-profile names, an exciting trailer, and the disappointment of fans everywhere when they find out that it was nothing but 90 minutes of empty dialogue from empty characters. Other times, the concept is promising, the talent is promising, but they just try too hard to remake the wheel. It's come to the point where I just about pee myself with glee when I find a solid, good movie. It doesn't need to be great. It doesn't need to an artistic masterpiece. I just want to walk into the movie theater, sit down, and enjoy my money's worth.

Dredd delivers. And then some. The really great thing about Dredd is that they don't try to remake the wheel. The concept is bare-bones simple: in a world where crime runs rampant, two Judges get locked into mob territory and have to fight their way out. Done. No social political agenda, nothing particularly philosophical or mindfucky to see here. Just a couple of consistent characters, some balls-to-the-wall action, and complete lack of plot holes. Can I get an amen?

Let's start off with the man himself. Dredd. Dredd is played by Karl Urban, but you wouldn't know it since he spends the whole time behind a mask speaking in his Batman voice. Dredd is kind of what you imagine RoboCop might look like if he became mildly suicidal and bled his sadomasochistic tendencies by putting holes in bad guy's heads. Basically, what RoboCop might've looked like if Jason Statham took on the role. Only Dredd is a man of the law...at least, a man of whatever law there is left to protect. For that reason alone, he is a sympathetic character and keeps us on his team. That, and the fact that he's never at loss for a smart, growled comeback. 

Image from collider.com.

Dredd gets teamed up with Anderson, AKA: Rookie. Anderson is played by Olivia Thirlby, an actress who I have only now gotten acquainted with and who is officially in my good book. She takes the role and owns it. While she's got a nice, subtle feminine quality to her, she can also look intimidating as shit with the right, icy dialogue under her tongue. Anderson is not only Dredd's beating heart, but also his brain--thanks to radioactive fallout, she's a mutant in a fucked-up society. A psychic. Which comes in handy and saves her ass, along with Dredd's, every step of the way. She pulls her own weight time and again and together, they make an unstoppable team.

Well. Almost unstoppable. Enter my personal, biased favorite: Mama. It's no secret that I'm a giant Lena Headey fan and she, once more, proved to be exceptionally badass. A little backstory on the character: Mama is an ex-prostitute who got her face slashed by a John and from then on, decided to take her anger out on the world. She became a mob-leader of the Mama Clan and kicked the asses of every other clan in her side of town. She's a bloodthirsty, drug addicted mob leader and takes absolutely no prisoners. In short: she's Dredd's dark side. She's just as violent and stubborn as he is, only she's on the other side of the law. This makes her a perfect villain for this movie and amps up the tension tenfold. 

So...where can I get me some Slo-Mo?

Which brings us to "Slo-Mo," the drug that Mama's Clan pushes. Slo-Mo makes things...well. Slow. So maybe it's not a particularly creative name, but it's a creative drug. I should start this off by saying I am an avid hater of slow-motion. Seriously. I would ban slow motion in all films if I could. I hate "emotional slow motion," when someone falls to their knees and makes stupid, agonized faces. I hate dramatic slow motion. I hate romantic slow motion. If you want me to feel something, slowing it to impossible speeds just irritates me, it doesn't make me feel any harder. 

However, there are a couple exceptions to my slow motion hate--and this is one of them. If it's used artistically in an action sequence, I can stomach it. In Dredd, they took "artistic action sequence" to a whole other level. I saw camera angles I don't remember seeing, ever. Just wait for the final fall from grace. Slow, detailed, blood-splattering, face-crushing goodness. I'm there. That said, there was nothing over-the-top and artsy about it. The creative visuals kept in time with the action and didn't interrupt the flow; instead, it worked with the script to build a unique, stunning visual experience. 

Image from moviecarpet.com.

With the lively characters, the sharp dialogue, and the eye-candy action, Dredd is just a good, solid, shoot-'em-up. If you want a movie theater experience you that will not only leave you satisfied but also really fucking pumped, I highly suggest checking this one out. Plus. Lena Headey.

My Ass May Be Dumb, But I Ain't No Dumbass.

JACKIE BROWN (1997)

AKA: The Ordell Robbie story.

It's the last day of the month, which can only mean one thing: time for me to sneak in my Tarantino review! This month, we've got none other than the dear Jackie Brown (1997). To be honest, Jackie Brown is not exactly my favorite Tarantino. Don't get me wrong: I still love it to death. It's like broken Oreo in the box--it's still got all the right ingredients, it's just not as satisfying as the rest. It's also probably the Tarantino that I've seen the least. With that said, I think Jackie Brown is highly underrated by many--especially me. Rewatching it this time around gave me a level of appreciation for the film's subtleties that I'd brushed off the last time around while I was waiting for a gun to go off. 

Swag.

The Plot: Jackie Brown is a rarity among Tarantino movies for one simple reason: it's not original material. Rather, it's based off of Rum Punch by Elmore Leonard. In a way, it shows. While it still certainly feels like a Tarantino movie, Jackie Brown is a little more "tame" than most Tarantinos go. There's not a lot of excessive swearing, shooting, or shamelessness. Rather, it's Tarantino's tribute to blaxploitation films, all while showing off the lovely Pam Grier. 

The Music: Like all Tarantino films, the music is spot on. Some of it is background music, but most of the music is used as part of the scene--something Jackie Brown puts on her record player or something Ordell cranks up on his car radio. It adds a little something to the film and puts the audience right in the middle of it, rather than keeping us as a voyeuristic distance. Also, fun fact: they play (a fucking epic) Strawberry Letter 23 by the Brothers Johnson, which also appears on the Pulp Fiction soundtrack. Go figure. 

The Characters: I know the movie is called Jackie Brown, but in my mind, this is the Ordell Robbie story. If you watch this movie for anything, you have to watch it for Samuel L. Jackson. This is, hands down, my favorite performance he's ever given. Granted, Jules Winnfield from Pulp Fiction is probably my favorite character Samuel L. Jackson has under his belt, but if you want a solid display of Jackson's acting skills, turn to Ordell. Ordell is a mean motherfuckin' gangster. Hard like panther. He's not Samuel L. Jackson's typical anti-hero or Jedi. He's a genuinely manipulative, evil son of a bitch. But he's also a character with a lot of subtly to him. He's paranoid, he's got a big ego, and he's got a soft spot for his "surfer girl." Oh, and did I mention the hair? Scrap everything I just said. See it for the hair.

Max Cherry + Puppy Dog Eyes.

Then, of course, there's my girl Jackie Brown. One of the most badass Tarantino women of all time. What's so great about Jackie Brown? Well, for starters, she's about the least likely badass around. She's a 40-something fight attendant working for a shitty airport. Despite her humble appearances, she's got the brain of an expert thief and works the system to her advantage. She knows how to smuggle, how to steal, but more importantly, how to get exactly what she wants. The funny thing is, she's not even that great of a manipulator. She manipulates by telling the truth. If she wants something, she'll tell you upfront exactly what she wants. She doesn't beat around the bush. But she's so confident and methodical, it's really hard to say no.

Of course, the interesting thing about Jackie Brown is that she is a really human character. She has her weaknesses. She gets emotional, she doesn't like being yelled at, and she has a soft spot for clothes shopping. But she's her own woman, and that is, in the end, what makes her stand out from the rest. She falls in love, but she doesn't give herself over to it. At the end of the day, she's still Jackie Brown: the one woman act. 

Speaking of love interest, Max Cherry, played by Robert Forster, is not actually my all-time favorite character. I understand he's supposed to be the hardboiled detective-style nice guy, and maybe that's the problem. Tarantino is talented at writing clever, can't-help-but-love-'em badasses who carry guns and wreck havoc. Max Cherry doesn't even drink or smoke. He just has too much of a halo for Quentin Tarantino's pen. Or maybe it's just Robert Forster I'm not a big fan of. Either way, his character has a bad habit of draining the energy from the screen, which is something this dude cannot abide. The only time he gets really interesting is when he mentions holding a stun gun, but by that time we're already more than halfway into the movie and he's already racked up too many yawns.

AKA: the misfits of the criminal world.

And then we've got our lovable side-characters. Robert De Niro, possibly one of the last people I'd expect in a Tarantino film, is hilarious as the frumpy ex-convict. But his best bits are, without a doubt, his scenes with Bridget Fonda. She's gorgeous and has great feet, which is really all you want from a Tarantino-girl. She plays the snide, pothead surfer-girl, Melanie, and possibly one of my favorite characters in the film if only for her snark and her attitude. Together, they're brilliant and add a good deal of energy to the movie. 

Other than that, we've got Michael Keaton playing Ray Nicolette, the sneaky tool of an ATF agent. He's slick, and more than that, a lot slicker than he thinks he is. His partner is the slightly more down-to-earth Mark Dargus (Michael Bowen), with an excellent mustache to his name. Chis Tucker plays his typical high-energy fuck up. And be on the look out for Simone. That's all I can say about her.

The Conversation: The phone debate. Without a doubt. It's the first full-scene of the film (minus the Jackie Brown credit sequence) and yet has got to be my favorite. Ordell goes off on his love of guns ("AK-47. The very best there is. When you absolutely, positively got to kill every motherfucker in the room, accept no substitutes."), Melanie shows off her legs, and Louis (De Niro) looks stuck somewhere in between the two. And then the phone goes off, and Ordell and Melanie get caught in a game of chicken, fighting over who has to answer the phone. If ever a man could explode someone's head with his eyes, it would be Samuel L. Jackson.

The Iconic Moment: Ordell spends about five minutes convincing Beaumont to get inside the trunk of his car so Beaumont can help him with the element of surprise during a trade-off. After a good couple guilt-trips, threats, and finally an appeal to Beaumont's stomach, the other man climbs in the trunk of Ordell's car. Ordell pumps up the music, smiles, and drives around the block into an abandoned lot, where he opens the trunk and unloads his gun in Beaumont. Genius. Pure genius. Everything about that scene drips with brilliant screenwriting. And this is why Tarantino is iconic. 

The Mexican Standoff: Don't remember the Mexican Standoff in Jackie Brown? That would be because there isn't one. It's one of the few Tarantino films that doesn't have a Mexican Standoff, though I am tempting to count the phone-debate in this category.

Classic Tarantino shot.

And that's all for Jackie Brown! Brilliant, underrated Tarantino film. If you haven't seen it, fix that. Immediately. Up next in the QT Blogathon is...drum roll...Kill Bill Vol. 1! It's one of my favorites, one of the Tarantinos I've seen the most, and has the gorgeous Uma Thurman. I'm stoked. If you have any Jackie Brown posts, hit me up at mhufstader (at) gm.slc.edu sometime around today or tomorrow and I'll put them up. So far, I've got no one in the Jackie Brown camp, so I might just have a post solely for you! Otherwise, email me between now and the end of August with something about Kill Bill Vol. 1 and I'll add it to my jar of eyeballs collection. 

David Plays Basketball With His Alien Buddy.

PROMETHEUS (2012)

Image from screenrant.com.

I'll be the first to say it. This movie couldn't disappoint me if it tried. It was directed by Ridley Scott. It had chockfull of actors I admire. But best of all, its a movie about aliens and robots, which I can never get enough of. For this reason above all, I am completely unreliable when it comes to reviewing this movie. There were aliens and they fucking kill shit. There were robots and they reprogrammed everything my brain told me I should believe about robots. Put a fucking fork in me. This movie could have been called David Plays Basketball And Rides A Bicycle With His Alien Buddy For 3 Hours and I would have been completely and utterly content. But wait, there's more. With spoilers galore. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Robots in space. Win.

Truth be told, Prometheus doesn't exactly cover a lot of new ground. It wouldn't exactly be a stretch to call Prometheus the slightly-watered-down sister of Blade Runner (1982). With aliens. It coaxes out all the old questions: where did we come from? Why were we created? What happens when man comes face-to-face with his maker? However, these are questions I'll never get tired of revisiting, especially while space-octopus-monsters are skull-fucking the all the redshirts in the bunch.

Ridley Scott is, of course, a big name, especially when it comes to science-fiction. And it just so happens, he's got a lot of big names supporting him. Time to run down the list. Logan Marshall-Green played the radical scientist, Charlie. He's a great actor and too often pushed to the sidelines, so it was good to see him get his moment as the frenetic scientist. Don't even try to recognize Guy Pearce. Don't. Charlize Theron was brilliant as the straight-backed, no-nonsense Meredith Vickers. Ruthless and furious, Meredith is a force to be reckoned with. The character herself was great, steeped in personal issues that matched up nicely with the overall current of the movie (humanity vs. robots). My only issue with her character would be the moments when the words coming out of her mouth seemed to fit a little too nicely with the theme (namely, "father"). Still, her chemistry with the other actors was great, particularly up against Michael Fassbender and Idris Elba.

Rock on, Mumbles.

Speaking of. Idris Elba. Gotta love that man. His character, Janek, was--hands down--one of my favorite parts of the movie. Not to mention, probably the most human character in the entire film. He was a cool, down-to-earth cat with a good sense of humor. I need nothing else. Well, except possibly a riveting crew to support him. I'd like to give the film the benefit of the doubt. I saw it at midnight in IMAX 3D. Maybe I was overwhelmed. Maybe I was too busy hyperventilating to catch the names of the deckhands. However, after the brilliance that is the bromance in Alien (1979), I was expecting much of the same here. And I got it. In short, scattered bits and pieces.

I get it. I do. Ridley Scott has an entire fucking world to build here, he doesn't have a lot of time to spend on the spaceship family. Still...an epic, intellectual mindfuck in space will always be an epic, intellectual mindfuck in space. But it's a little hard to separate the humans from the robots when the passengers don't ever seem to have real ties to one another. The emotional connections and bromances between the different characters could have worked well to up the ante, but instead we get a lot of individual characters doing their own thing, completely oblivious to each other. Maybe I just need more foreplay than the average audience member, but I wasn't getting my anticipated warm and fuzzy feelings from any of the characters' relationships.

On the other hand, who needs warm and fuzzy feelings when you can have extended sequences of David the robot? Michael Fassbender wins again. David completely stole every single scene he was in. End of story. Part the credit goes to Fassbender's acting skills. He's proven it before and he proves it yet again--this guy can handle anything you throw at him. He's a fucking powerhouse. And David is a lot of character to carry. He's a robot, but not the kind that sits around and waits for commands. He has an inch of curiosity, pettiness, and betrayal. All-too-human emotions that look terrifying in the hands and heart of a robot.

Looking for foreign object in male patient? Go for the uterus. 

Now for my girl. Noomi Rapace. If I hadn't previously named her BAMF Of The Week, she'd be flaunting that title right now. Talk about a badass chick. There is so much badassitry in the character of Elizabeth Shaw, I had to make a list to keep it all straight:

1. Despite being a scientist, she's kept her cross and (partly) her religion. I don't care one way or the other about religious characters, but it breaks the mold of the angst-ridden, nihilistic scientist. She straddles with world of the physical and the spiritual, and does it all in a logical manner. Kudos. 
2. Her husband/boyfriend/whatever dies in a fire. She's despondent, but she hasn't lost her singular reason to live. 
3. She performs a c-section. On herself. To get rid of a terrifying alien baby.
4. ...And doesn't go maternal on the evil little thing, like 90% of thoughtless women heroines who think with their women-parts. 
5. She's just had major surgery, but she pushes forward. Like a boss. Even though everyone sees her groaning in the corner and clutching her stomach and doesn't lift a hand to help her. Damn "woman problems."
6. Alien? Maker with buyer's remorse? Fuck trying to go Chuck Norris on these bitches. Instead, she uses her smarts and kills two birds with one stone. 
7. Everyone's dead? No matter, she's still got a job to do. 
8. Of course, it probably helps that she gets to spend the rest of her life with Michael Fassbender's head. C'mon. 

In short, Elizabeth Shaw is the shit. And, after all of that, one of the things that impresses me most is the fact that she's not Ellen Ripley II. Let's face it, Ripley is one of the most badass women of all time. If they wanted to duplicate her, there would be an audience for that. I would have been one of them. But Elizabeth Shaw is her own beast. She doesn't "roll with the boys." She doesn't have guns of steel. In fact, I don't think she wields a gun period (feel free to bitch slap me if I'm wrong). Instead, she uses her intellect and her heart. She isn't butch. She isn't brawn. She's feminine, she's emotional, she's spiritual. And she still kicks everyone's asses in the end. Now let me wipe this drool off my keyboard.

A little more drool.

Of course, before I wrap this baby up, I have to devote a little time to the most anticipated character of all. The alien. 2+ hours? Worth it for 5 seconds of alien scream. All the monsters of this movie (aliens and pre-human humans alike) were, of course, epic and terrifying. I will say this, though: I failed as a moviegoer. I fell for the oldest trick in the book and let myself get caught up in the hype. So when Ridley Scott said Prometheus was going to scare the shit out of me, I was ready with a change of pants. Instead, I got a couple gruesome scenes, but nothing that forced me behind partially-spread fingers. Not quite the scare I'd been holding out for, but solid, exciting creatures nonetheless.

All in all, I've got to repeat myself. It was physically impossible for Prometheus to disappoint me. Yes, there were flaws. But nothing so frustrating that it took me out of the movie. As someone who went into a complete Prometheus black-out a couple weeks before the film to avoid any and all spoilers, this movie packed a lot of surprises and definitely left me slack-jawed and mind-fucked. Now for the inevitable sit back and wait for Prometheus II: A Girl And Her Head. Second screening, here I come.

"It Ain't White Boy Day, Is It?"

TRUE ROMANCE (1993)

And they say Tarantino doesn't do romance.

Missed me? Forgot I existed? Yeah, so did I. Truth me told, I've been massively A-To-Zing o'er here, so I've had little to no time to do anything else. However! I do not shirk responsibility. At least, not when it's something epic and fun like a Quentin Tarantino Blogathon. And so I rallied and sat down to watch True Romance, a film I've surprisingly only seen once before. Truth be told, True Romance isn't my favorite Tarantino film. For one simple reason: it's not really a Tarantino film. Yes, he wrote the script, and you can see that "gutter poetry" of his rearing its head here and there. Still, at the end of the day, it's a Tony Scott film, with a couple Tarantino highlights to keep you going. 

Plot: True Romance follows the story of Clarence, a nerd who can't quite luck out with the ladies because he's too busy watching samurai films. Ring any bells? He meets the woman of his dreams, Alabama, only to find out she's a hooker who's been hired by his boss to give him a good time. What happens next is a bloody trail of evidence that proves just how far two people will go to stay together.

Image from listal.

The Music: While watching the film, the music was the one, constant, nagging reminder that this was not a Tarantino film. I have to wonder what this film would look like if it was given a more "Taratino score". You know what I mean--Al Green, Dusty Springfield--all those great, classic artists who could definitely crank out a good, romantic tune. To be honest, the music really might be the one thing that forced me to knock this movie down a peg. It sounds petty, and maybe it is, but after the second, third, hundredth time Clarence and Alabama's theme song came around, I was ready to stab Hans Zimmer in the thumb piano. Don't get me wrong. I love Hans Zimmer. Inception will always get me in the mood to transverse time and space. However, this song was so fake-cheery every time it played I got the image of a bunch of African children laughing and chasing after some white married couple riding a horse down a beach off into the sunset. Don't even pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about.

Image from my.spill.com.

The Characters: Clarence and Alabama are our two main characters and, really, two excellent fucking characters. Let's look at the facts. Clarence is, yes, a movie-geek and a bit of a socially inept nerd. However, he's also incredibly quick on his feet and great at manipulating everyone around him. Mainly due to the fact that he has a small Elvis living inside of him telling him what to do. That's right, Clarence is basically the profile of every serial killer that's snapped and shoved bodies under his floorboards because a voice in his head told him to. Or maybe it's just Christian Slater who hasn't sat right with me since Heathers (1988). Either way, we can't help but love him because he's Clarence and he does everything he does for one simple reason: he's crazy about Alabama.

And who can blame him? I'm crazy about Alabama. What's not to love? She's played by the beautiful Patricia Arquette and she's a fucking powerhouse. Here's what I love about Alabama: she's fierce, she's a wild woman, and she will hold her own and get the shit beat out of her. And she's so fucking femme. She's no Sarah Conner. She doesn't chop off her hair, dirty up her face, and strap an uzi onto her back. But she's not a useless booby-prop either. Alabama doesn't conform to the stereotypical female love interest role, and for that, we salute her. I mean, c'mon. That scene where she gets beat to all hell? One of my favorite moments on the movie and a powerful fucking rebuttal to all those useless damsel in distress roles. Rock on, Alabama, rock on.

Image from cimemovies.fr.

The Actors: One of the best things about this movie are the many famous faces that pop up when you least expect them. And so, roll call: Gary Oldman reminds us that he can do anything. Samuel L. Jackson makes Tarantino's poetry sing and then leaves as quickly as he came. Brad Pitt gives Pineapple Express (2008) something to look forward to and, frankly, still does a better job of it. Christopher Walken is his usual beast of a man. Dennis Hopper does a fantastic job at playing Clarence's once dead-beat dad. More on him later. Val Kilmer is unrecognizable, but that's kind of the point anyway. Chris Penn's face always makes me happy. James Gandolfini is terrifying as shit. And a couple you may not know but now you officially should: Bronson Pinchot is whiny, sleazy, and perfect for the role. Michael Rapaport is my new favorite bad actor. And Saul Rubinek steals the show as every producer you wish you didn't know. It's just a great fucking list of names and everyone fits in their role perfectly. There's not a bad apple in the bunch. Now that is an accomplishment in itself.

The Conversation/The Iconic Moment: I had to put these two in the same category because there really is only one crowning moment in this film. One purely Tarantino, fucking magical moment. One moment, and shit suddenly got real. And that's none other than the "conversation" between Clifford Worely (Dennis Hopper) and Vincenzo Coccotti (Christopher Walken). If there's anyone more terrifying that Christopher Walken, I hope I never encounter them because they will surely hunt my nightmares until my dying day. The dude's a fucking rockstar of intimidation. And Dennis Hopper, who's had my love since Easy Rider (1969), gives it right back to him. The chemistry between these two kills me. Every time. But at the end of the day, what it boils down to is this: it's just a brilliant fucking script. The slow build, the uneasy tension, the final culmination of it all...damn. All I can say. If you never see this film, at very least, watch this scene. Now excuse me while I watch it a couple hundred times.

The Mexican Standoff: Really, where would we be without a good, old-fashioned, Mexican Standoff? The funny thing about it is, despite the fact that this is a signature Tarantino move, this scene kept giving me flashbacks of various other films. Like Lock, Stock And Two Smoking Barrels (1998), where all our different characters quite literally collide with another at the end. Or even Boogie Nights (1997), where our hero comes to terms with his downfall in the middle of a rotten drug deal. Which is, clearly, unfair of me, since all those movies came after True Romance. And it wasn't that I didn't like the scene--trust me, I did. I just kept getting the feeling that it was something I'd seen before. Still, I will never say no to a good gun fight, especially with a couple epic feather-covered death scenes. Rock on.

Image from gq.com.

Fun Facts: This movie actually has quite few little facts surrounding the production, especially since Quentin Tarantino sold the script and then stepped away from it completely. True Romance is an elaboration on Tarantino's first film project, My Best Friend's Birthday. It's also the most autobiographical of Tarantino's scripts, which we kind of figured out anyway. C'mon. Clarence is an Elvis man who practically lives at the movie theater when he's not pursuing comic books. We can see the connection. It's also worth noting that this script was originally a monster of a movie that was split up between True Romance and Natural Born Killers. Between you and me, I think Natural Born Killers is a better romance, but I'm willing to fight about it.

And now for my favorite bit, which even I didn't catch the first time around. Remember good old Reservoir Dogs? In Mr. White's flashback, he mentions working alongside a wild woman who went by the name of Alabama. Starting to put the pieces together? Clarence was originally supposed to die in the shootout, leaving Alabama on her own to turn to the life of crime. And this is why we love being die-hard Tarantino fans. Talk about world building. J. R. R Tolkien has nothing on that shit.

And that's a wrap for True Romance. If you've got any True Romance posts you want to throw at me, hit me up at mhufstader (at) gm.slc.edu before May 1st and I'll give you a shout out. Next up, my favorite movie of all time: Pulp Fiction (1994). 

The Girl On Fire. Who Played With Fire. Fire Fire.

THE HUNGER GAMES (2012)

Image from themoviebanter.com.

If theres anything I love more than midnight showings, it's midnight showing with a big fan base. It happened with Harry Potter, it happened with Lord of the Rings, and it happened with The Hunger Games. When it's not so much a movie as it is an event--people waiting in line for hours wearing shirts with lines like "I'd go gay for Gale" or Capitol citizen costumes. Others curled up against the wall, noses in the books. As someone who's read all the Hunger Games trilogy, (what the crap, literacy?), I was stoked. And whether it was midnight movie fever or something in the water, the movie gave me everything I wanted. And then some. But there was one, small thing nagging me. Pulling at the back of my brain. One tiny little detail, not about the movie itself, but about the hype around the movie that gets under my skin. Therefore, in order to rectify the atrocities committed to this movie regarding the controversy surrounding it, let's settle this once and for all, shall we? Fifteen paces, draw your weapon, aim, and--

7 REASONS
WHY I WILL KILL YOU IF YOU COMPARE HUNGER GAMES TO TWILIGHT:

1. Panem > Sparkly Vampires

Image from cleancutmedia.com.

Out of everything I was looking forward to, it was definitely the world of Panem itself that had me on the edge of my seat. There is little I love more than futuristic dystopian societies and the world laid out in The Hunger Games is really something else. It's well thought out, epic, and the movie doesn't miss a detail. I'd say more about it, but you really have to see it to understand.

2. Elizabeth Banks > Kristen Stewart

Image from mplyinfo.blogspot.com.

The acting. Was phenomenal. And I'm super fucking picky when it comes to book-to-movie character adaptations. If an actor doesn't have the right face (which, let's face it, he never will, because no one can ever live up to fictional expectations), I get cranky and bitch and hold grudges (why, Tom Hanks, why did you ever think you could pull off Robert Langdon?). So I was fully expecting to have an actor or two to gripe about by time the movie finished. But the credits began to roll and I, to my surprise, had no complaints. Literally. None. The actors were all spot on, perfectly cast, and acted exactly how I imagined the characters to be. They each stayed true to the spirit of the book--and, hell, even surpassed it sometimes. Seneca Crane? I did not pay attention to that bastard in the novel. Couldn't even remember his name. In the movie, however, he was a stark raving badass. And I wholeheartedly approve. Another mention has to go to Elizabeth Banks, who killed the role. In a good way. I mean, slaughtered it and skullfucked it. She owned Effie Trinket and stole every shot she was in. Even Peeta, who's an annoying little bitch of a character, completely came to life under Josh Hutcherson's practiced smile.

And I have to give a moment for Katniss. Simply because something very, very weird happened. I have a lot of faith in Jennifer Lawrence's acting skills, so I knew she could pull off the reluctant rebel. However, what I didn't expect was that I actually liked Katniss more in the movie than I did in the book. Mainly because I didn't have to get inside her head and listen to every petty teenage girl thought that came out of her head. Katniss simply was--a young woman who will do anything to survive so she can go home and take care of her sister. A character a little rough around the edges, but someone we can connect to on a very human level. In short, Jennifer Lawrence, you win.

3. Haymitch > Everything

Image from aceshowbiz.com.

Woody Harrelson has never failed to impress me in the past, and he certainly shines on as Katniss and Peeta's bitter and alcoholic mentor who is given the task to train them for the battlefield. Because, really, when you're about to enter an arena with 23 other bloodthirsty kids fighting for their lives, who doesn't want a drunken Woody Harrelson to guide the way? So maybe he's not Katniss' choice power animal, but he's definitely a scene stealer. I saw the midnight opening-night showing of Hunger Games, so the audience was especially lively, but it didn't take an expert to realize that every time Woody Harrelson showed his face, it lit a match under everyone's funny bone. Even with the fugly blonde hair.

4. Slaughtering Children > Teen Pregnancy

Really. What do you want to watch, an teen battle with the drama of getting pregnant by her vampire boyfriend or children with fucking bows and arrows and swords and throwing knives slaughtering one another mercilessly? You want the barely legal bloodbath, am I right? Right? No? Just me? Er, moving right along...

5. Feeling Things > Feeling Nothing

Image from thesnipenews.com.

One thing I did not expect from Hunger Games was the tone of the movie. When you have a big budget film based on a high grossing novel, you tend to expect it to be sleek and smooth and polished off with that shiny, fake Hollywood polish. Especially when it's rated PG-13. But they didn't back away from the grittier side to Hunger Games. Instead, the movie is intense, even brutal at times, and always visceral. We're with Katniss, in her head, without the bad side-effects of an angst teenager's inner monologue. When she's on stage, we get the overwhelming sensation of being in front of a large audience, their cheers overpowering. When she's hazy and feverish, we get the stilted feeling of being jerked in and out of a linear reality. It's one of those things you'll either love or hate, but I personally really enjoyed. It made it impossible to simply watch the movie without feeling completely involved, eyes and body.

There is a downside to visceral-type movies, though. They're usually not great at action scenes. Why? Well, because when you're getting the shit kicked out of you, everything is a fuzzy, jolting blur. Which is bad enough to experience, but incomprehensible to watch. There were a couple fight scenes that had me scratching my head to figure out who exactly was punching what now? Still, I stand by that this technique works...most of the time. They just need to learn how to keep the camera still for action sequences and we'll be good.

6. Katniss > Bella Swan

Image from allkindsofcomplicated.blogspot.com.

I know, I know. I ogle any hot woman with a lethal weapon in hand. Guilty as charged. That aside, Katniss is the shit. She holds her own, she's epic with a bow and arrow, and she's extraordinarily self-sufficient. Bitch doesn't need no man carrying her purse. She's a strong and able woman who can (more or less) stand on her own two feet. Sure, she's a teenage girl and occasionally needs a kick in the right direction. But what we like about Katniss is that she's completely self-reliant.

And, yes. There's romance. There's a love triangle. It's going to turn into this long, drawn out thing for the rest of the series. But while Bella Swan was torn between a stalker and a furry, Katniss is torn between two men who have faith in her strength and support her. C'mon. Not to mention, the main love of Katniss' life isn't some guy. It's her little sister. Their relationship is palpable in the movie. You feel how much she loves her little sister and then directs that love onto Rue. And look--two women! In a movie! In a competitive sport! Getting along! The horror, the horror! Rue and Katniss have a lovely little sistamance, and it warms my cold and shrinking heart. 

7. Resistance > Domestic Abuse

Image from themoviebanter.com.

Forget every reason that's come before this, because this is the real kicker. And where I show my true, blue colors. The thing that really kills me about both The Hunger Games and Twilight is that they're Young Adult novels. Meant for...young adults. Kids. The movies always slide under the R rating so they can get a young audience to see them. However, when I have a kid and I name her Badass Jr., the last thing I want is for her to come to me and say, "Hey, guess what I learned about today! Sex is evil and men verbally threaten women to show affection and babies eat their way out of their mother's stomach!" No. Not cool. Kids need knowledge. Especially in this day and age, the age of movements like the Egyptian Revolution and Occupy Wall Street, they need stories about government and rebellion. Star Wars does it--the tyrannical government, the rebellion that fights for all the right causes.

The Hunger Games gives us a girl who doesn't care much for politics--she just wants to feed her family. But she gets swept up in the wave of it and comes face to face with government corruption as well as the various walls you hit when fighting a resistance: who is the enemy? Where do you draw the line between "what they are capable of" and "what we are capable of"? How do you defeat the enemy without playing the enemy's game? Now, maybe there's some grand message about the role of vampires in society in Twilight that I'm missing out on because, frankly, my dear, I just don't give a shit, but what it comes down to is The Hunger Games is a smart, relevant movie and good for Rebel Alliance children of all ages.

So let this be the last time The Hunger Games is ever mentioned alongside Twilight just because they're both successful YA novels. The Hunger Games is not Twilight, President Obama is not a muslim, and marrying your cousin is still a bad idea. Now that we've got some basic facts in our brainpan, let's compare Hunger Games to movies that it can actually relate to, like Battle Royale, even if Suzanne Collins is still pretending she's never seen it. Or even Hanna (2010), which the movie itself gave a nod to by including Marissa's Flashback from the Hanna soundtrack (and I wet myself with excitement just a little bit). Really, this movie is fucking epic. If bloodthirsty teenagers, Woody Harrelson, and epic sistamances are your thing, see it. 

"I Know Who You Are."

TINKER TAILOR SOLDIER SPY (2011)

Image from buffalonews.com

Who is the mole? Was Control paranoid or on to something? Who has Irina? How can I get this popcorn bit out of my teeth? Tinker, Tailer, Soldier, Spy (2011) was a brilliantly crafted British mystery of epic proportions. But as the ticking clock of the case winds down and we all put our teletypes to sleep, the burning question remains. What is it about Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy that makes it such a damn good movie? To uncover the answer, we must first sift through the clues:

CLUE #1: The return of good old fashioned spies.

Svetlana Khodchenkova.

As everyone knows, I thoroughly enjoyed both versions of Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. But you've got to admit it, mysteries just aren't quite as fun as they used to be. What do I mean by that? Well...let's take a personal favorite of mine, Angel Heart (1987). The movie takes place in the 50s, a grand time when computers didn't exist and Mickey Rourke still looked pretty. He plays a detective who isn't afraid to do the leg work--he talks to people, he taps his contacts, and he goes to New Orleans and back again to solve his case. Now cut to 2011. You can google anything you want to know. Better yet, if you're a hacker like Lisbeth Salander, you can type some fancy green code into your computer and solve the case from the comfort of your own couch. The biggest obstacle she ever had to overcome in digging up information was how long it would take her to weed out the viruses Mikael uploads every time he clicks a popup that tells him he's their 100th viewer. There's just not enough privacy left in the world for there to be any sort of good mystery stories. So, sure, the movie moves a little slow, but it's quite literally a nice change of pace.

CLUE #2: The faces.

I don't think I have to tell anyone the most obvious draw of this movie--the star-studded cast. Sure, there were the big bold letter names that appeared on the posters, but it was all about the little guys too. We had hey, you, crazy old man and why the long face? kid and the other Truman Capote. Not to mention good ol' Tommy Boy and aren't you a Bond henchman yet you terrifying man? And then there were the woman, the brilliant could she be any more British? Burke and positively stunning Svetlana Russianrussianrussian. I don't know who this Svetlana chick is, but I will be the first to say I told you so when someone shoves her in a phone booth and transports her back to the 70s, because they could not have chosen a woman more perfect for the time period. The best part about each and every actor? They were all great. Every single player in this movie. Not only were they great, but they all kept in the tone of the movie. The casting was excellent, and they blending in with the scenery perfectly.

Image from clothesonfilm.com.

CLUE #3: The faceless.

As in any good spy movie, the majority of the movie was a seesaw between what the audience got to see and what the audience didn't get to see. However, they took it a step further with this one and had some characters that only existed because we were told that they existed (and occasionally saw someone grab their ass). This worked and didn't worked for me. Where it worked: I liked that Ann didn't have a face. Great. This movie is stuffed with good British homoerotic tension as it is, let's just go all the way and leave the wives out of it. Ann was a traumatic event in Smiley's life, let's leave her at that.

Where it didn't work: Polyakov. So...I understand that the major villain is the mysterious mole. But Polyakov was still...a pretty major player. Right? I mean, they repeated his name enough times throughout the script to build me up to the feeling of wanting a little something out of this man. Even if he is a sideshow to raise the stakes. But when you drag him through the movie and then throw his face in there at the end just because you can...it just throws me. I can't really figure out why he was in the movie at all. Might as well have called him Mr. Big Russian Plot Device and left it at that.

Bromance is in the air.

CLUE #4: I didn't get it.

I mean, that's really the top mark of a good British spy movie, right? If you don't get it the first time around? I swear, every time I get into one of these movies, I tell myself I'll get it. I watched every fucking detail in this movie. I was waiting for someone's head to get caught in the lift. Yet...when it came down to the whodunit, I just didn't get it. I did understand his motivations, and frankly I didn't entirely understand exactly what he did (read: what he did that the others didn't). This will all make zero sense if you haven't seen the movie, and probably if you have seen the movie. Still, despite the build up, despite everything the fact that every detail seemed extraordinarily deliberate, I was left with that "Hmm...interesting?" feeling. I trusted the writer on this one, and still he managed to pull the rug out from under my feet. Dammit. Now I'm going to have to see it again just to see if it makes any more sense the second go-around.

CLUE #5: Badasses got their due recognition.

There were four people that really made this movie for me. Tom Hardly, but he's almost an honorable mention by this point, isn't he? Not because he wasn't good--he was--but we expect him to rock on with his badass self, he can really do no wrong in anyone's eyes. Even if it means going ginger. But it was Gary Oldman, Colin Firth, and Mark Strong who really ran away with it for me. Why? Because we know they're all very good, but it's been a long time since we've seen them all this good, and on such a grand scale. Yes, yes, Colin Firth is just winding down from an Oscar, but even in The King's Speech (2010) he was playing...Colin Firth. As we know him and love him. That charming, fumbling, adorable British man. This movie? Not so much.

All the movie snobs know Gary Oldman is a badass, but...I still get the feeling that your average American audience member hasn't quite caught on, just because they can't recognize him from one movie to the other (you old chameleon, you). Well. This movie certainly set him on the map. Lastly, Mark Strong we know and love, but only as the stone cold fox of a villain who beats up little kids. I mean, unless you've seen Revolver (2005), but who watches existential British gangster films anymore (SEE IT, BITCHES). Here, he gets a character with emotional turmoil, with deep, human issues. And...well. He does it all in style. Only he could be simultaneously trailer trash scrubbing mud off his boots and the classiest man on the screen.

Being a BAMF.

Conclusion: Mark Strong is one classy motherfucker. Gary Oldman too.

CASE CLOSED.

"I'll More Than Alarm You."

THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO (2011)

Prepare for battle...

Everyone's thinking it, not so many people are saying it. Let's just go all out, shall we? I call it...BATTLE OF THE REMAKE! In one corner, those crazy Swedish bastards. In the other corner, AMERICA! It should be known that the referee is only literate in the language of Chuck Norris' body hair, so she was unable to read the novel these movies were based on. It should also be known that copious spoilers lay ahead, and honey badger don't give a shit. Let the fighting commence!

Round One:

The thing that really sold the US version of Girl With The Dragon Tattoo for me was the new and improved Mikael. Honestly, I can't tell you what it is about Michael Nyqvist. Maybe I just don't like his face. Whatever the case, Nyqvist bored me to tears. I couldn't get into his character, I couldn't get into him period. But I didn't really have time to care because I was too busy drooling over Noomi Rapace's awesome. Either way, I went into the US version expecting much of the same. Sure, I love Daniel Craig and I've got a lot of faith in him. But Mikael is just...a white rice character. Well. Let's just say I was pleasantly surprised, and I owe 99% of that to one very important character. The cat. I don't know what it is, probably a cat woman dyke thing, but watching 007 play with a kitty cat is incredibly endearing. And so I decided Mikael could have a place in my heart. He likes cats, he's got a good personality, and he's got multiple little faucets of his self for us to touch on--his affair, his ex-wife, his daughter. All of it rounds out to a good, interesting Mikael Blomkvist. In short, Daniel Craig has to work very hard to disappoint me.

And the winner is...Daniel Craig and his pussy.

Round Two:

Ah, what I wouldn't give for this to be a physical cat fight. The thing about Rooney Mara is I liked her. A shit ton more than I thought I would. Let's face it, the woman had big shoes to fill and tiny feet to fill them with. But instead of completely trying to replicate Noomi Rapace's job well done, she took the character down a La Femme Nikita road. Lisbeth became much more pure animal instinct, and for that, I have to give the little ball of energy Rooney Mara mad props. But with her almost too-intense eyes peering out of her doll face, she felt less like Lisbeth Salander and more like something Tim Burton might concoct. Noomi Rapace is a gritty, badass punk who still carries with her a sharp edge of humanity underneath the smoldering flames of the violence that lives inside of her. Or I just want to get in her pants. Either or. 

And the winner is...Noomi Rapace (be still my beating heart).

Round Three:

If anyone remembers my previous review of the Swedish version (The Girl With The Occasional Hangnail), you'll know that I bitched at length about Mikael and Lisbeth's relationship. There was just something about it that simply didn't sit right with me. Then I saw Craig and Rooney Mara. I do get the feeling I might have been subliminally forced into liking it since there were so many attractive promotional images of the two together. Nonetheless, Mara and Craig had great on screen chemistry. They worked brilliantly off each other, and despite their clear differences, somehow seemed to fit. I think what it all comes down to is the fact that Fincher took the time to include trivial, yet touching intimate moments. Something as simple as Lisbeth demanding Mikael to keep his hands on her while she worked somehow added that much more to their relationship, making it feel natural and flow easily through the movie instead of forcing a connection.

And the winner is...Daniel Craig and Rooney Mara.

Round Four:

Also known as, "and then another incestuous Swede walks into a bar...". One of the main problems with the first movie was that I just couldn't follow along. Maybe it was the subtitles. It's entirely possible I'm just that much of a stupid American. Whatever the case, everyone just felt like another Swedish Nazi having sex with his sister. In the American version, Fincher seemed to breath a little more life into the important family members and then shrugged off the rest of the snippy old bitches like dried up snake skin. Sure, I'm sure important plot points were lost thanks to America's "time is money" philosophy. But who really wants to listen to Aunt Helga whine and cough up cat fur?

And the winner is...David Fincher.

Round Five:

Alright. So I'll be blunt. With tag lines like "the feel bad movie of the year", I was expecting to feel a little more brutalized. Yes, the rape was brutal as all hell. Yes, the post-rape shower made me physically uncomfortable. Good job. But skip ahead a little bit to Lisbeth's revenge. Yes, she goes through the exact same motions. But what's that? While she was tying her rapist up, she had time to do her makeup? So you're telling me she just decided, in the middle of this emotionally and physically violent scene, to play a little dress up? Alllllrighty then. Skip ahead a little more. When Mikael is squirming between the jaws of Vanger Jr. Martin Vanger has Nazi blood, a childhood fraught with violence, and he's a pathological sadist who gets off on brutally raping and killing random women. Got it. Now look at Craig. He looks...vaguely uncomfortable? He's got a neck brace on. Now, I'm pretty sure anyone who's ever had to wear a neck brace will tell you how extraordinary uncomfortable they are. Because, you know. They chafe and stuff. Right. Now let's skip to Nyqvist, who has a hangman's cheap noose wrapped around his throat. Call me old fashioned, but there's something about Nyqvist's torture that hits a more visceral note, despite Craig's good acting and the excellent help of our friend the plastic bag.

What I'm trying to get at here is between the heavily made up raccoon eyes Rooney Mara sports while she sodomizes her rapist and the odd little neck brace, I get the feeling Fincher got a little caught up in the theatrics when he really just needed to zero in on the genuine, visceral, bloody heart of the moment. The more visually appealing brutality is, the less it hurts. I know what you're thinking. M., lay off. It just looks cool. You're right. You're totally right. I mean, it's not like people are going to entirely miss the point of the movie and make a clothing line based off a mildly psychopathic rape victim, right?...Guys? Right?

And the winner is...Noomi Rapace and her terrifying tattoo skills.

Round Six:

All's well that ends well. Or, you know. Drags out to the point of nibbling on popcorn kernels. Here's the thing. We kind of...don't give that many shits about Mikael's case. It was just a plot device used to get us to this super interesting missing woman case, and now that the case is solved, mission completed, job well done, we're ready to pack up and go home. Alright, so I get that this one isn't that easy to wrap up, we have to explain how Mikael gets off, we have to give Lisbeth a last moment of badassitry, we have to see our hero ride into the sunset with...well...a girl. But did it really need to last as long as it did? I was having LOTRs deja vu watching the multiple endings drag out in front of me. Yeah, so the Swedish version dragged on just as long. But somehow I expected it to drag, since the whole movie had been a lot slower, a lot quieter. Fincher's version was much more fast paced and action packed, so when he dragged his feet through the end, I felt it. 

And the winner is...Zer Svedish.

And The Winner Is...

Er...that's a bit of a tough answer. Especially considering the fact that they've officially tied and I've got no tie-breaker. Look, what it comes down to is, they were both excellent movies in their own right. Usually I feel strongly about one version, but this time I could swing either way. Really, if we could just do this movie one more time mixing and matching the best bits from each movie, I'd be happy. As it is, I'll be content to watch both versions multiple times to satisfy my masochistic love for this brilliant, dark movie.