"2,500 Tons of Awesome."

PACIFIC RIM (2013)

Image from eonline.com.

It goes without saying that, from day one, I was drooling over this movie like Tarantino at a shoe store. Big, massive aliens from the sea fighting mechanical powerhouses of destruction. Sold. Aliens and robots are pretty much my favorite thing (with cowboys and aliens coming in as a close second, tied only by mobsters and robots--if that isn't a movie, it needs to be created), so I was really, really easy to please. 

But no. They couldn't stop there. They couldn't just give me an awesome movie filled with bone-crunshing punches and shrill, otherworldly screams. No, they had to also build an intricate universe, sprinkled with moments of quirky humor and lovable characters.

You guys. It's looking like Christmas sure as hell came early for me this summer. 

There were, of course, a couple things that stood out to me that I've got to mention. So, with that, here are five reasons why Pacific Rim has officially set the summer blockbuster bar high. 

1. Not a Bolt Out of Place

ROBOTS.

Normally, I'm something of a sensitive movie-goer. I'm not the biggest fan of 3D and all those...gizmos and gadgets. So the fact that I saw this in IMAX 3D should have been a problem for me. But it wasn't. I barely noticed the 3D aspects of it. Now, to people who enjoy the shit-popping-out-at-your-face bit, that might be a problem. To me? It worked perfectly. 

But it's more than just the 3D. Occasionally, when you see a movie that's about 95% CGI, it shows. You can tell when the actors are talking to blank, green space. You can tell when something just doesn't feel right. Even if the CGI looks spot on, there will sometimes be that disconnect, that fabricated feeling. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the actors had such a deep respect and connection to their CGI robot machine-suits, but somehow, the CGI felt completely natural to me. It was organic to the world and flowed seamlessly through the film. A+ to the nerds who worked on that one. 

2. Drifting

Image from http://www.slate.com.

Can we talk for a second about how awesome drifting is? A mental brain-connection between two people and a machine. C'mon. That's fucking awesome. In fact, all the world-building details of this story were awesome. Everything from drifting to the wall they tried to build to the various different Jaeger models and their human teams (can I have a movie solely about the Russians now?). I am going to be very, very sad when sci-fi goes back out of style. Like, borderline depressed. Mark my words.

3. Idris Elba

Just stop with your awesome, Mumbles.

Let me count the ways I love this man. I will follow him to the Apocalypse. And then watch him cancel that shit. I was probably the most invested in his character, simply because he was exactly the kind of over-the-top character that fit so perfectly into the texture of the world. Not to mention, his character was hard and direct when he had to be hard and direct, yet was able to inspire anyone to action with only a few precise words. You go, Idris Elba. 

4. Everyone Else

Image from http://www.nerdist.com.

What can I say? The acting was good. Charlie Hunnam--who you have to love for his subtle fuck you faces if nothing else--it turns out is great on and off the motorcycle. He's turning out to be a surprisingly versatile actor and I'm looking forward to seeing more of his face. His counterpart, Rinko Kikuchi, was everything she needed to be--wide-eyed, inquisitive, and somehow simultaneously bold and timid. 

5. The Newton's Cradle

Just because I can't get enough of these two.

More than the acting, the writing was good. Which, to be perfectly honest, I wasn't expecting. No, they're not going to win an Oscar for best screenplay anytime soon, but it was fun. It was more than a couple machismo-enfused one-liners. It was campy at times (moments which Charlie Day and Ron Perlman pulled off brilliantly), powerful and ribcage-expanding at times (all signs lead to Idris Elba), and even unexpected at times--some of my favorite moments involved the brief, still silences in which a seagull took flight or a Newton's cradle began to click in the middle of a city-crushing fight. The script knew it was a shameless, campy movie and ran with it--it didn't try to make it bigger than it was, it didn't set the audience up for a plethora of increasingly bad sequels (though I wouldn't be surprised if they happened anyway). The film never took itself too seriously while simultaneously giving the plot the epicness it deserved which, at the end of the day, what exactly what won me over. 

When I Was A Young Lad...

THE LONE RANGER (2013)

Image from www.salon.com.

As a young, 12-year-old boy growing up in the 1950s, I have fond memories of sitting down in front of the ol' black-and-white and watching episodes of The Lone Ranger while ma cooked up a post-dinner apple pie. No? Not buying it? Okay, so maybe I'm an 80s child with a healthy dose of penis envy, but the point is, I wanted to be that little boy with the Lone Ranger mask who ran around terrorizing the neighborhood cat with a slingshot. So when they announced that they were doing a Lone Ranger movie, I (and all the baby-boomers twice my age) had a purely sentimental reaction. Because, for about an hour and thirty minutes, I could be that little troublemaker who goes strutting into the Wild West tent at the carnival, craving adventure. 

 Pretty sure she picks movies for the wardrobe.

Of course, therein also lies the problem of the movie. It's a sentimental film, but also a very selectively sentimental film. The Lone Ranger was big in its day, sure. But it doesn't have a lot of modern day relevance. Like Dark Shadows, it's a passion project that's going to miss a lot of viewers simply because...well. It's old. You can remake fairytales until the cows come home because we're still reading those bedtimes stories about princesses and frogs and slightly rape-y sleep-kisses. However, there aren't a lot of kids who are still watching black-and-white reruns of The Lone Ranger. 

Which is my way of saying: this movie was doomed from the start. It just doesn't have the audience it used to. However, the plot itself was pretty simple. John Reid--a by-the-book lawyer--suffers a dramatic event and learns to drop his old, law-abiding ways to follow the road of justice. Eventually. This is an origins story more than anything, so there isn't a heck of a lot of the Lone Ranger being the Lone Ranger. Rather, there's a lot of John Reid being wishy-washy, arguing with Tonto, and struggling to stand by his moral compass in an immoral world. 

For a simple plot, the writers managed to twist it up in a couple of convoluted knots that just didn't need to be there. Most of the rickety storytelling came from the fact that the story had an unreliable narrator--old and weathered Tonto--who often lost the thread and had to retrace his steps. There's a good way to do this (a la Kiss Kiss Bang Bang), and a bad way to do this. This fell somewhere in the middle--it didn't lose me at any point, but sometimes, it just felt a little gimmicky and unnecessary. Plus, there were too many characters and small, subplot arcs thrown around. What was the deal with the American army and did it really need to play such an integral role? Nope. Don't think so.

Cowboys doing cowboy shit.

The plot aside, the actors were great. I believed 100% that Armie Hammer was just as much of a goody-two-shoes as he presented himself to be. He pulled off the character well, even though his teeth could've been a little less damn shiny (this is the wild west. C'mon). Johnny Depp was Johnny Depp--thoroughly silly and thoroughly enjoyable. Of course, many fucks were given over the fact that some white dude was playing Tonto, but Johnny Depp is at least a shamelessly ridiculous replacement, where I might add, Khan was supposed to be taken completely, unflinchingly seriously. So sit on that for a couple white-washing seconds. 

Two of my favorite actors--Tom Wilkinson and William Fichtner--played our main villains, which was just...lovely. They're both so good at being bad, I have no complaints. Plus, William Fichtner just has such an interesting face, that man can do anything with it. Speaking of chameleons, a moment for James Badge Dale, who proved that no matter what the role, he can pull it off flawlessly. Granted, his roles are often a little extravagant and there's never anything really subtle about his characters (big metal flame guy in Iron Man 3 and prick boss in Shame), but he's always exactly the character the movie needs and manages to fit in seamlessly with the mood of the film. All the awards for James Badge Dale. I guess I should mention Helena Bonham Carter, but she was just...Helena Bonham Carter. Lovely and ridiculous and clearly written into someone's contract. 

And Silver did a great job being a horse.

Which brings me to my final point...you don't need to know a heck of a lot about The Lone Ranger to enjoy this one. I think the real draw of this film is the world it exists in. It's more than a homage to the old Lone Ranger series--rather, it's a homage to spaghetti westerns period. It's got all the necessary ingredients--train robberies, whore houses, indians, mines, the railroad, the hunt for gold and silver. It's almost like a mash-up of the "best of Westerns." And, at the end of the day, that was what stuck with me. To its credit, the movie spared no expense in world-building. They took us through even the little details of the world--that heavy-hoofed patter as the horses raced to catch up with a steam-billowing train. The grimy, snaggletooth villains that'll kill their grandmothers for just a little extra coin. The clattering awe of the first trains, chugging down freshly laid tracks--

Well. It was the feeling of being a slack-jawed, twelve-year old boy clutching a slingshot. 

If you want a movie that brings up purely nostalgic western feelings, you'll enjoy this one. If you want a shamelessly fun summer flick, you'll enjoy this one. If you want to spend two hours in air conditioning, you'll enjoy this one. With that, I'm off to buy a cowboy hat and attempt to lasso my girlfriend's yorkie for a couple of hours. Hi-yo, Silver, away--!

Low Expectations And Great Fun.

THE PURGE (2013)

Image from horrorcultfilms.co.uk.

I've heard this movie get a bad rap by a couple reviews, yet I was pulled along to see it because 1) the lady wanted a horror flick and 2) Lena Headey. Enough said. Here's what I assumed it would be: a mildly updated version of Panic Room (2002). I figured it would be just another they're-stuck-in-the-house-and-sort-of-scary-shit-happens movie. The kind of movie where they say things like "this will be the scariest movie of the summer" and then you watch them play with shadows for an hour and a half. Needless to say, I did not go in with high expectation. 

And then...well, hell. It looks like I'm rooting for the underdog all year (I kid you not; a positive review of After Earth is imminent). 

The thing is, I liked this one. It was fun. It was exactly what it needed to be. And it exceeded expectations (keeping in mind that my expectation was that it was going to be a poorly written should've-been-straight-to-DVD B-horror flick). Here's the thing: the concept is great. Pure genius. It's the kind of thing I wish I'd come up with; after all, it's not really a stretch of the imagination with all the IRL violence that's been going on lately (yeah, I just used acronyms, what up?). The concept of a Purge one day a year in which Americas are able to unleash their inner rage and violent tendencies is very relevant right now. You can either chose to hole up inside or join the violence and chaos outside and in the morning, all sins are forgiven. At the end of the day, it's a solid premise. 

Image from spinoff.comicbookresources.com.

Now, with this premise, the writers had two options. On one hand they could've created an all-out science fiction flick that went deep into the world and the mindset these people live in. A sort of dystopian film that dealt with the heavy moral implications of a night of violence. On the other hand, they could make a relatively light-hearted horror film that grazed on these issues but, at the end of the day, was just looking for a couple good screams. They chose the path of least resistance. 

As a science-fiction junkie, I say this without any judgement or prejudice. If you want to make a campy horror film, make a campy horror film. They're easy to digest and usually pretty easy sells at the box office. The Purge, however, was a campy horror film on the surface with a super clever premise underneath. 

So could they really pull it off? Well, yeah. I think they did. Ultimately, the movie was a hell of a lot more successful at delivering on its promise than I thought it would be. Did it have issues? It sure as hell did. Let me get them out of my system right now:

1. Why was their house so frustratingly enormous?
2. So if there's a homeless, possibly insane stranger running around their house, are the parents really going to let their daughter go and throw a bitch fit?
3. Why does everyone partaking in The Purge talk like an evil doll brought to life?
4. Why isn't Mrs. Terminator killing more bitches?
5. Did we really need that terrible in-car exposition with the secretary going, "You're number one!"

Look on the bright side, at least they're not bunnies.

...You get the point. There were a couple bad eggs, a couple spots that could have been cleared up with another run through of the script. But overall...I was surprised by how not-stupid the script was. They delivered on a lot of the moral implications of The Purge, playing through a couple great character driven dilemmas. The reintroduction of the boyfriend at the moment of The Purge was the first moment when I realized that this movie--surprise, surprise--might actually know what it's doing. The boyfriend was great, the homeless man was great (and the dog tags were an excellent surprise), and, most of all, the husbands arc (is he protecting or is he Purging?) was ultimately satisfying. Yes, a lot of it was predictable, but that's the campy horror movie aspect. It still had plenty twists and turns I did not see coming, and those I did see coming still felt satisfying.

At the end of the day, while it was maybe not movie of the year and certainly won't be winning any Oscars anytime soon, it was a clever concept and a smart script. The actors played their parts nicely; hell, even the children engaged my interest instead of irritating me (and by children I mean the little boy). Ethan Hawke was great, and that's coming from someone who generally doesn't get what the big deal is with Ethan Hawke. I loved Lena Headey--but hell, I always love Lena Headey (especially during her final scenes of the movie). And "Polite Stranger," AKA: batshit crazy Rhys Wakefield was fantastic; exactly the kind of overacted, yet unrestrained creepinesses the role needed. 

Yep. I even liked the kid.

Ultimately, the movie felt a little like a Funny Games that didn't take itself so seriously and threw in a splash of violence and humor just to keep the energy going. As someone who can solidly appreciate a simply enjoyable movie with a killer concept, I'd recommend this one over the "oh, god, something is movie in the blankets again" mindless horror flick any day of the week. 

"I Told Myself I Would Never Come Back."

THE HANGOVER III (2013) 

The Wolfpack...or something like it.

Here's the thing. I've been a pretty big fuck-it fan of the Hangover series. Why? Because they're shameless, predictable, and usually come hand-in-hand with a good soundtrack and a couple memorable one-liners. The Hangover had a tight script, it knew what it was, and it owned it's insane ridiculousness. The Hangover II was a little less tight, a little less laugh-out-loud, but I stood by it because, hey. It's a bro-comedy about bachelor parties gone wrong. How seriously can you really take that shit, right?

Well. Apparently, very seriously. In Todd Phillips' final installment of the Hangover trilogy, I have finally run out of redeeming things to say about it. Don't get me wrong. I enjoyed it. Because, at the heart of it, I have a soft spot for the series and a soft spot for the characters. If you right fun characters and hook me in, I'm there. The Wolfpack (and Doug) are just fun to watch in action. Nine times out of ten, you get the feeling that, deep down, they're all bros in some way or another. Even (and maybe even especially) when they laugh at each other's misfortunes and pull terrible pranks on one another. 

Image from Huff Post.

However, the Hangover III forgot the main draw of the films. The bromance. The Wolfpack. Instead, it focused more heavily on the gimmicky characters. But the problem with gimmicky characters is that they're only funny because they're explosive side-characters. When you devote a whole movie to Leslie Chow...well. Yeah, we liked it, but not that much. 

If I had to pick one main character out of the entire series, I'd probably put my money on Stu. He's the one who always seems to have the major challenge to overcome, start to finish. He always goes through the most noteworthy "journey," where all the other characters are, more or less, just trying to get to the wedding on time. In Hangover III, however, Stu was basically nonexistent. He popped up now and then to deliver a couple one-liners that were repeated throughout the series, but that was it. He had approximately zero screen time. Phil, who often took the "leader" role, was also sectioned off to the sidelines. Instead, we handed the movie over to Alan and Chow. First mistake. 

To top off an already bad move, this wasn't even the same warm and well-intentioned Alan we'd grown to love from the first film. Instead, this Alan was mean, aggressive, and a little more sociopathic. Maybe the failed bachelor parties just hardened him into a bitter, angry man. Maybe he's worked so hard at impersonating Phil that he's got the callousness down to a T. I don't really know what was going on, all I know is that I was not a fan of Alan 3.0. 

My overall experience of Alan in the last movie.

But evil!Alan was, more or less, the epitome of everything that was wrong in Hangover III. Here's the thing: I wouldn't be bashing this movie if it just let itself be a bad movie. I had problems with Hangover II, but I let most them go. Because it presented itself as a shameless repeat of the first one. It said, "Hey, we know what you came here for, so here it is, word-for-word." A cheap move on Todd's part, but as I'm a big fan of unapologetic shamelessness, I could appreciate it for what it was. Hangover III, on the other hand, tried too hard to be a good movie. I could see it trying. But, at the end of the day, it was like watching Sam Worthington try to pull off an accent. Painfully obvious and, ultimately, a waste of time. 

I don't want to end this on a completely sour note. Because the thing is, shit. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed The Wolfpack. I enjoyed their antics and one-liners. I enjoyed the movie, overall. But at the end of the day, it took the series to a place it didn't need to go. I never thought I'd say this about John Goodman, because I love that man, but his character pretty much fucked up the whole movie. You know something's wrong when too many people die in what was supposed to be a shameless comedy, including the dogs. I enjoy excessive violence, but there's a movie for that and this is not it. I will say this, however: for people who enjoyed the series throughout (or at least enough to stick to it), this entire movie might have just been worth it for the ending credits scene. That last couple minutes was what I needed to see for the entire of the movie. End credits is where it's at. 

Dammit, Goodman. 

"America's Not A Country. It's A Business."

KILLING THEM SOFTLY (2012)

Image from screenrant.com.

Killing Them Softly takes place in a dystopian world where America is enslaved by its own debt. People live like vultures in poverty, killing and stealing just to get by in an economy that chews them up and spits them out, leaving them with no other options except self-destruction. 

Oh. Wait. This isn't science fiction. This is a raw and bloody reminder of America after the Bush years, when the economy fell on its face thanks to a couple shaky-fingered puppeteers and the little guy was the one chosen to pick up the soap. I know you thought you were going to the movies to see Brad Pitt be a fucking badass and kill some bitches, but you were wrong. This movie is a blood-fest, no doubt about it, but it's a political commentary, first and foremost. And don't worry, Republicans, Obama gets shit for it too. 

Honestly, it's hard for me to give this movie a proper response. As an action movie, it falls a little short. The script has holes. There are long stretches of monologue. The third act leaves a little to be desired. As a cynical as fuck commentary on the state of the world, it succeeds. In short, this is the kind of thing that might've made a better play than it does a movie (all the satire and none of the explosions), if it wasn't for the brilliant editing and shocking imagery. 

Let's start with the good stuff. The first thirty minutes or so are flawless. The dialogue is great, the characters are sharp and well defined. We've got Frankie (Scoot McNairy) and Russell (Ben Mendelsohn), two less-than-professional gangsters who will do just about any hairy job for a little money. They get hired to rob a regular high-stakes card game, run by Markie Trattman (Ray Liotta). So you know how Ray Liotta always plays the unflinching, can-kill-you-with-my-pinky badass? Well. Ray Liotta takes a turn for the worst as a sniveling push-over who gets the crap beaten out of him (by none other than Racetrack from Newsies. Think about it. Guess he bet on the wrong horse.). Maybe I'm being a little harsh on Trattman--he does, after all, hold up well under pressure and sticks to his story no matter how hard you punch him. Still, it's...well. Possibly one of the most gruesome beatings I've seen a guy take on the big screen. It's the kind of visceral, sickening violence that makes you want to send Ray Liotta a couple Get Well Soon balloons and a script for a Christmas-themed family comedy. 

On the topic of awesome characters, I have to mention Mickey, the emo hitman, played by James Gandolfini. Mickey has issues. He drinks, he fucks whores, and he spends a lot of time sopping up his tears while waxing poetic about his wife. Really, Gandolfini does an excellent job as a washed out hitman who's so miserable he can hardly get up the motivation to get out of his bathrobe. He's a pathetic character, but a well written pathetic character. 

Then there's our main man, Jackie (Brad Pitt). He's a cold, hard negotiator who knows how to talk his way out of most any situation. He's generally a "good guy," except for the whole killing thing. Really, he's a character I should be able to get behind. Except for the fact that the movie doesn't seem to do him justice. He's badass character, but he spends most of the film talking Mickey off the ledge. We don't get a lot of time seeing him in action. And when we do seem him beat the shit out of some people, well, sure, it's cool, but somehow it just doesn't feel like enough to live up to this awesome reputation he's built up for himself. Which maybe has something to do with the fact that his character never really breaks a sweat. He gets mildly irritated from time to time, but he never really faces any major obstacles. Because he doesn't have a "low point," it's hard to feel really satisfied when he pulls his badass moves and closes the job.

Brad Pitt's third-act issue isn't an isolated incident. Unfortunately, too many of the excellent characters (including Mickey the emo hitman) fail to get a decent wrap-up. Instead, they get a one-line sentence of exposition explaining how they did or didn't get their comeuppance, and leave it at that. Especially Dillon. Don't get me started on Dillon. Despite the fact that he's apparently a major antagonistic character, we never really see him, we never hear him. He just floats around like the Black Smoke Monster or something. And then when we finally hear about how he gets his, it comes without rhyme or reason. I take it back, the Black Smoke Monster had more personality than this guy. 

Stylistically, this movie holds up well. They play with sharp cuts and purposefully jarring editing. Another favorite moment of mine is when Russell the Aussie gets high and keeps floating in and out of consciousness. It's an effective style, even if they draw it out a little too long, and got a good chuckle from me. 

All in all, I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this movie. The characters were really unique and enjoyable to watch. The acting was excellent (I hope to see Scoot McNairy a heck of a lot more after this). The monologues were great. The political commentary was on point, even if it did smother the plot from time to time. At the end of the day, it's a movie that tries pretty hard to blend two different genres and doesn't entirely pull it off. However, it's still an enjoyable movie with a lot of excellent violence and memorable characters. And Ray Liotta. Gets the shit beat out of him. I rest my case. 

And Then A Wild Aston Martin Appears!

SKYFALL (2012)

Obligatory bare-Craig-chest image.

Ever since Pierce Brosnan, we've become accustomed to a bigger, faster, explodier Bond. Each new movie had new gadgets, new gear, new nonsense. We propelled Bond into the future with invisible cars, cheap smiles, and all the luxuries of modern cinema. And we drank the punch. We expected Bond to get increasingly more hip and in-tune with our culturally relevant standards. We were waiting for Bond to switch out Q. for Google and start sexting his Bond girls.

And then Sam Mendes said, "Well. Fuck that."

Skyfall reminds us exactly why we loved the Bond films in the first place. If nothing else, it's a very loving homage to the Bond of the good old days. Bond is no longer clowned up and jumping around like a kangaroo on cocaine; he's a genuine spy. Yes, he's still the bold, brash bastard we all know and love, but he's a little more in control of the situation. Of course, the genius of this movie is that, for most of the movie, we get Bond completely out of his element. He spends the first half of the movie a battered, alcoholic mess with a very, very bruised ego. After twenty-three movies of a perfect shot, there's something extraordinarily satisfying about watching Bond miss his target. So not only do we have a highly competent organization set out to trip up Her Majesty's Secret Service, but we also have a damaged Bond struggling to keep up. I mean, why didn't anyone think of this before?

I think I've said all I can through my teeth. The twists in this movie are so epic that I would have to throw myself onto a Hattori Hanzo sword if I thought I spoiled this movie for anyone (even though, if you're a rabid Bond fan, you can see most of them coming ahead of time, it STILL doesn't change the fact that the "big reveals" are massively satisfying). That said, the spoiler portion of my review is under the cut! Otherwise, just see it, yeah? Or I will judge you. JUDGE.

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.

Jeremy Renner Blows Shit Up.

THE BOURNE LEGACY (2012)

Image from filmireland.net.

I'm going to be straight up with you guys. I am not actually the biggest fan of the Bourne series. I know, I know. It's a quintessential action film with all the right twists and turns. I get it. And really, it does have all the elements I like and I should (and will) give it a second go around. Still, there was just something about the Bourne movies that never got my blood pumping the way it should. So I cautiously tiptoed into The Bourne Legacy. 

Could I tell you what it's about? Not really. The plot is kind of all over the place. Aaron Cross, a CIA lab rat with superhuman strength and shit, is on the hunt for his little blue pills with all the desperation of a college girl after a bad one-night stand. Meanwhile, back in the CIA headquarters, some video about some people no one really cares about goes on youtube and it's like...a big deal. For some reason. Seems a little petty to me, but hey, I'm not Edward Norton, what do I know? Anyway, because the CIA clearly has no control over youtube, they decide to cut their losses and destroy one of their largest and most profitable secret projects out there! Wow. Okay. So that...seems like a massive overreaction. But, again, Edward Norton has a lot of conviction in those crazy eyes of his, and I don't really feel like getting in a fight with Tyler Durden. 

Image from tqsmagazine.co.uk.

Anyway. The CIA goes about not only annialating its undercover "Outcome" agents, but also its scientists. One of who happens to be Dr. Marta Shearing, AKA: the lovely Rachel Weisz. And so, of course, Aaron Cross runs to Marta's rescue because...you know. Morning after pills. Anyway, after saving her ass, it turns out, he doesn't actually need the pills. Never did. Well...okay. That kind of...took the tension out of that shit. Note to self: this movie does not know how to hold tension. Either way, they get to go to the Philippines to make sure Aaron Cross kicks his drug habit and becomes even more badass then he was before. 

If you haven't gotten it already, I'll jump skip to the end. It's basically a rehash of the Terminator: Salvation ending, in which the film gives a big "fuck you" to the audience right before they leave with the lines, "thank you for sitting through this whole, epic movie in which a lot of shit happened and we saved the world...oh, and by the way, this was just a small, inconsequential battle in the scheme of things, we actually didn't do shit. Be sure to throw out your popcorn bags on the way out." There wasn't a real, satisfying ending because there wasn't a real, satisfying plot. It was just Aaron Cross cutting his ties with the CIA via his pill habit and moving on. That's it. No real combat was made against the CIA themselves. No real punches were thrown their way. And no real punches were necessary since the CIA were always ten steps behind (more on that later). In short, this movie was really just an introduction to Aaron Cross. That's it. We've got a new Bourne face, fine by me. Thank you for the prologue, now give me something I can sink my teeth into.

Being a BAMF.

All that said, you'd think I'd come out of the movie muttering bitterly to myself. But I didn't. Why? One simple explanation: Jeremy Renner. The guy is just so fucking likable. I have yet to see him in a movie that I don't like him in. Which, at the end of the day, makes him an interesting action hero. Nine times out of ten, action heroes fall under two categories: they're either stoically badass or they're snarky little antiheroes. Rarely is there any wiggle room. Aaron Cross, however, is neither. He's just...a regular Joe. A good guy. A mountain man with generally good intentions and no real red in his ledger. He's got an interesting backstory, sure, and they hint at it multiple times but never really give you a lot to go on. Yet at the end of the day, he's just one of those guys who apologizes for killing animals, tries to get to know people, and will probably hold the door open for you. His easy, happy-go-lucky attitude even confuses his fellow Agents, who don't seem to really know how to respond to the guy who steps through the door unarmed, with his defenses down, and has a casual conversation over dinner. He's just not your typical action hero, which somehow makes him all the more endearing and generally fun to watch. At the end of the day, I will probably see more Aaron Cross movies solely for Jeremy Renner.

Which is a shame, really, because the rest of the cast has a lot of potential. Namely, the main antagonist of the film, Eric Byer (Edward Norton). Eric Byer is a great character. Really. He's a stone cold bastard who doesn't budge for anyone. However, he spends the entire movie in boardroom meetings and watching Aaron Cross' progress on computer screen. The most active thing he does the entire film is clear out a office space by aggressively telling everyone to leave. Number one rule of screenwriting: give your antagonist and protagonist some face-to-face time. Naturally, rules are made to be broken, and for some movies, they can get away with that. This is not one of them. Not only do Eric Byer and Aaron Cross never meet, they also never have a threatening phone conversation. They never have any interaction, period. 

Edward Norton doing...nothing.

To top it all off, Eric Byer can never catch up with Aaron Cross. I get it, Aaron Cross is super strong and super smart. But you've got a whole team of CIA Agents who created him. Surely, they can at least ride Aaron's ass. Instead, they stay ten steps behind him at all times, picking up his trash. Aaron Cross doesn't ever have to worry about outrunning or outsmarting them because they're lost chasing their own tails. 

For that reason alone, the movie doesn't actually start for me until about halfway through, when they introduce Larx (Louis Ozawa Changchien). Larx is a super soldier, like Aaron Cross, but (for some reason) one the CIA isn't interested in killing. Rather, Larx has a leg up on Aaron--he lacks the capacity for emotion and he never, ever stops. It's the oldest trick in the book: what do you do when your main character is Iron Man? You have him fight a bigger, stronger Iron Man. So we finally have someone in this movie who can match Aaron Cross blow for blow. Finally, Aaron has a challenge. At that point, things pick up a hell of a lot of speed. Thank God and Chuck Norris for Louis Ozawa Changchien, you scary fucking bastard. 

Overall, the action sequences are pretty good. We've got a couple good chase scenes in there. And, of course, it's always fun to watch a super soldier beast mankind. They really don't stand a chance in hell. Another thing this film does really well, however, is splicing in flashbacks. It's a strange thing to compliment a movie for, but heck. Maybe it was because the present was so often moving a little too slow for me, but the flashbacks were always nicely timed and caught my attention. A little too vague at times, but hey. That's what the second movie's for, right? 

Image from indiewire.com.

Oddly enough, my favorite scene in the film didn't actually feature Aaron Cross. Maybe I'm just overly tired of all the censorship crap, but I highly enjoyed the scene in which a previously lovable scientist, Dr. Donald Foite (Zeljko Ivanek...one of those faces you know, even if you can't place the name), locks himself in one of the labs and systematically kills all of his colleagues. It's the acting, the way it's shot, the way Rachel Weisz scurries through the lab all too aware of his history with the shooter. Most importantly: tension. Yes. Human on human violence. Terrifying, because they're all the same speed and they've got no "superman" to save them. It's a very visceral and well-done scene. In short, hat's off to Zeljko Ivanek.

All in all, I can't completely bash or praise this movie. It is what it is: a very obvious introduction to the Aaron Cross franchise. Did we need this movie? Probably not. It had a lot of plot holes (or, rather, a plotless hole). It introduces really epic Outcome Agents that I would have loved to got to know better, only to kill them two seconds later. But so long as you take it for what it is, it's fun. And Jeremy Renner. End of story. That said, was I the only one waiting the entire movie for a Matt Damon cameo? I mean, his name's in the fucking title. It's kind of like having a Terminator movie without ever bringing the Terminator into it. Why do I have so many Terminator references in this review? Answers to all life's questions with epic twists and turns...next time!

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.