Ice Road: Vengeance

That title? Kind of dumb. The rest of the movie? Well, I wouldn’t say it’s smart, per se. It’s formulaic, not especially creative, lacks any really memorable moments…but that doesn’t mean it’s bad. The movie certainly accomplishes what it sets out to do, which is put Liam Neeson in yet another in an endless series of situations that require action action action. Neeson can do this stuff in his geriatric sleep by now, so there’s no problem with that. What’s encouraging and a bit charming about this flick is that Liam here gets to share the load; there’s ass-kicking aplenty for the locals to enjoy as well as the star's usual share of the fun and games. As action pics go, the attitude towards the foreign types shown here is almost enlightened. That, plus the battles, plus a few hair-raising moments on those crazy Himalayan mountain roads, plus some truly gorgeous scenery (maybe real, maybe matte or CGI) all add up to a decent time at the direct to home viewing. (The internet claims that this is actually a sequel to another movie that apparently has nothing to do with this storyline. No wonder the full tableau seems a bit weird.) Now if only someone had come up with a title that made a lick of sense. 

The Adventures of Prince Achmed

Well, it’s not every day that you get to watch a hundred-year-old movie. Nor does it happen that the film in question is as beguiling as Lotte Reiniger's silhouette stop-motion animation work. There are scenes in this movie that are so creatively expressed that the viewer is left wondering exactly how they were done—even in this time of digital filmmaking and realistically rendered visuals. It’s pure creativity and imagination that went into the making of this film, which tells a tale from the Arabian Nights that contains much that is familiar to most audiences—the famous story of Aladdin—blended into a second story about the titular character and his own world spanning deeds. It’s a lot of fun to watch and the story is not too difficult to follow despite the need for English sub subtitles of the German subtitles (in an otherwise wordless presentation. The current fashion is to be highly concerned with the last five minutes and to concurrently ignore everything that came before, but that is a dreadful mistake—a conclusion proved by looking at this postcard from the far ago. The light and magic here come not from a genie or a lamp, but from the continuum of human creativity and consciousness.

The Road

So let me get this straight: the world shattering event wiped out all the…bicycles? I have to imagine that this story worked better on the page than on the screen, as the depiction here simply shows too many internal story contradictions to truly give the viewer a worthwhile experience. By the tale’s own internal logic, these characters should have starved to death long before the narrative ever begins. More problematic is the movie’s core concept: things are awful, then they’re awful some more, and then, finally, they’re still awful—with perhaps the suggestion that things might get better, but maybe not. One has to wonder, what exactly is the redeeming value of telling such a story? It comes across as a simple exercise in misanthropic speculation, as virtually no one in the tale comes across very well. Even the worst curmudgeon among us must believe that, even in such dire circumstances, more people than not would choose to do right by others, rather than resort to, among other things, cannibalism. Really, this story seems like a work that pretends to offer wisdom and a deep understanding of humanity, but in fact it just indulges in an unrelentingly bleak outlook simply for the sake of bleakness. And, finally, I am biased against people who say “papa” instead of “dad”; just a quirk of mine. No amount of emotional heavy lifting from Viggo Mortenson is enough to overcome this film’s fatal, fundamental flaws. I suggest skipping this trip—and if you do find yourself forced onto this journey, maybe be sure to use that one bullet you have left sooner rather than later. 

Send Help

The viewer is immediately confronted with a question by this movie: was the casting of Rachel McAdams in the lead role a mistake? The issue arises from the fact that her character, Linda, is presented from the start as a nebbish and unattractive creature—which is a difficult sell when McAdams, who has famously portrayed hotties in prominent roles, is the creature in question. Wouldn’t it have made more sense to cast an actual, non-physically perfect actress in the role, for some legitimacy? The issue is only given more weight by the film’s early scenes, which indulge in any number of clichés about office politics and interpersonal dynamics. Perhaps dolling up—or down, as it were—a standard beauty to portray a fugly was just another example of moviemaking laziness. Or so one might think. As the story goes on, though, it becomes clear that Linda straddling the line between attractive and unattractive is a core component of the narrative. You’re never quite certain who the villain really is here, until the unwinding of the plot eventually leaves no doubt. Before you get to that point, the story delivers plenty of entertainment, including thrills, scares and more than a few outright laughs along the way. By the end, you can appreciate the importance of—as the lady herself would tell you—strategy and planning. That’s what went into this work, and the early questions are all part of the plan. Not a bad trip, and worth the time you spend there. 

The Mexican

This movie may be the embodiment of the not so old saying, “it insists upon itself.” There’s plenty in this story to like, but there’s also plenty that comes across as superfluous, too, particularly on the Julia Roberts side of the narrative. The stuff that delves into the inner workings of her and Brad Pitt's relationship, while well meaning and occasionally entertaining, overall comes across as a diversion from the core of the story. A tighter focus on Pitt's side of the action would have made for a sharper, more interesting film. This movie wears its antecedents—particularly Pulp Fiction—on its sleeve, though without quite the same level of accomplishment. You can almost see the movie within this movie that Tarantino would have made, and that flick would have been a riot. As it is, this one comes across as somewhat amusing and entertaining, but definitely not exactly what it could have been. You aim, you shoot…and sometimes you get a misfire.

Predator: Badlands

We’ve come a long way since Ah-nold was rolling around in the mud in Central America. I confess that I am much out of date as far as this franchise is concerned. I didn’t even know going in that it had been folded into the ever-metastasizing Alien-Blade Runner universe. So there’s quite a bit here that was new to me. What is not new—indeed, it has become a reliably predictable trope—is the phenomenon of the monster from an original story sooner rather than later becoming the hero insubsequent iterations of the franchise. So we have it here. That plot trajectory makes this film a target for skepticism right from the start, and for sure, many of the movie’s early details lead the viewer to question the premise and execution of this work. You get a lot of stuff that follows the “wouldn’t it be cool if…” line of thinking—note to would-be filmmakers: generally, no, it wouldn’t—without much evidence that any real inspiration went into the production beyond that initial thought. What saves the proceedings from full-on ridiculousness is a certain level of cleverness in the action sequences, as well as some unexpected wry humor in the characters’ interactions. So while I can’t make the case that this movie is particularly great, I must somewhat grudgingly admit that it holds the attention and entertains throughout. Nothing here is groundbreaking—this is treading on ground that was thoroughly broken long ago—but you can watch it without feeling like you have wasted your time. It’s like you’re bringing home the measliest hunk of meat you could find, but nevertheless, it goes into the books as a successful hunt. 

Aguirre, the Wrath of God

Do yourself a favor: watch this film in the subtitled original German, not the dubbed version. The crazy comes through much more forcefully in the German. Once again Werner Herzog offers the audience a study in hubris, and ultimately madness, in the setting of the Amazon jungle. There’s less a story here than a continuous thread of narrative travelogue as a group of would-be conquistadors and their various associates journey in search of El Dorado and presumed fortune and fame. Klaus Kinski shows us again how to make madness and villainy a featured element of a movie that rarely rises above a slow-moving pace yet never loses the viewer's attention either. (The most exciting scene comes right at the beginning, when we see the group descending an Andean path the looks like an unreal staircase—a visual that sets the tone for the entire rest of the movie's tableau of existing in the world of the unreal.) Again, as with Fitzcarraldo—the two films are almost a 1 and 1A exacta entry of South American man vs. nature studies—you get a movie that many people simply won’t get, but that those with adventurous viewing habits will appreciate for its unique vision and contemplative frame of mind. And if nothing else you’ll learn a valuable lesson: don’t trust crazy conquistadors. 

Jeremiah Johnson

They don’t make them like this anymore. Really, they didn’t make them like this back then, either. Or anytime. I suspect this flick is an example of the impact of star power. Take an actor with megawatt power—like, say, Robert Redford in the early 1970s—and he can pretty much make whatever movie he wants, even if it has a razor thin storyline, pretentious script structure (complete with overture, unnecessary intermission, and a goofy, balladeering countrified chorus), and virtually no other recognizable beings in it. Beyond Redford’s desire to make a movie about a mountain man, there seems to be little point to this exercise in western mythmaking, though one must appreciate the splendor of the scenery that serves as the backdrop for the action. Also, kudos go to said action, which provides doses of satisfying violence to punctuate the long ruminations in the narrative (if you generously call it that). This one certainly works better if you’re in a mood for contemplating life back in the day and above a certain elevation, but if you prefer something a bit more standard in your night of cinematic entertainment, you might want to consider just staying down in your valley. 

The Time Machine (2002)

This movie starts off highly unpromising. The immediate impression is one of TV movie production value, if not even lower depths of cheesiness. And the initial setup scenes—including a hastily arranged romantic subplot that ends with an inciting incident—have little in the way of entertainment value. But then, once the plot really kicks into gear, with Guy Pearce making ever further forays along the timeline, the whole story really starts to hum and grows quite engaging, if perhaps not truly engrossing. The future world is actually well conceived, with appropriately stepped up production values and effects to go with. I can’t speak to the physics of the thing—the story’s justifications may ultimately be full of holes—and there’s at least one piece of the future puzzle that comes across as unaddressed, at the very least, if not actually impossible, but as a light work of movie making, this one does its job to an adequate degree. And it clocks in at under two hours, so you won’t feel oppressed by the passage of time as you view. That makes it time mostly well spent. 

Mission: Impossible - The Final Reckoning

Sic transit gloria cinema. If this really is the end, that is. What was in many ways the most unlikely of top-level movie franchises—in story, in execution, in star power, in sheer quality of execution—has apparently reached its denouement with an outing that is, perhaps, not the best of the series, but one that is representative and certainly full of entertainment value. You don’t really need to fret too much about the story here; this installment is continuing a thread that has been building for around three episodes now (and arguably grew out of the details of the entire series, as the movie makes clear with numerous self-referential flashback montages)--and all that really takes a back seat to the typically audacious stunt sequences anywat. Tom Cruise is very much his usual self here: strong, on-point, and totally in control of his character and environment (and he is deserving of accolades for clearly being a driving force in making this franchise what it became, which is a film series that far exceeded any reasonable expectations). The supporting cast does good work, too, including fine goodbyes to stalwarts Ving Rhames and Simon Pegg in their definitive roles, as well as solid performances from the rest of the crew--including Pom Klementieff in a role where, oddly, she speaks only French but apparently understands English in amazing detail. But hey, we’re not here to quibble; this stuff is all about a fun times at the movies, and this flick mostly pays that off, without ever descending into self-destruction. That’s a good mission to complete successfully—and here’s the proof. 

Lara Croft: Tomb Raider

Late on a Saturday night. I was just looking for some mindless entertainment…and boy did I find it. I don’t know if this flick was meant to be in 3D, but Angelina Jolie’s character certainly was: 3D x 2, to be precise. Lara’s enhanced physique is so prevalent throughout the show that it is almost like a running—and occasionally bouncing and bobbing—joke, which is ironic since one of the key missing elements of this movie is actual humor, as in humor that is a) intentional and b) something you would actually laugh at. Further conceptual follies are found in the story’s half-assed attempts at being vaguely scientific, via some humbug about a planetary alignment, not to mention various other plot missteps. Even the raw action sequences come across as bland and not particularly inventive (a real black mark considering this film was made contemporaneously with the Matrix trilogy). If I had to point to some good aspects of this work, I suppose I could say that Jolie’s performance is decent, and she gets acceptable support from a pre-Bond Daniel Craig, plus the story does provide a bare minimum of entertainment despite its many flaws. Still, you can’t be too generous towards a dunce work like this one. Instead of pulling things out of a tomb, a better idea would probably be to bury this flick in one, and leave it there for a bad long time. 

The Wizard of Oz

No, I didn’t try the Dark Side of the Moon thing; maybe next time. It’s an astonishing fact that, until now, I had never watched this movie all the way through from start to finish; I had only seen pieces of it here and there. Now I can report that the effort is well worth it. The story is a marvel, chock full of fun and pleasure, interesting symbolism, and more than a bit of old-fashioned wisdom. From a visual standpoint the film is hard to beat, even at this late stage. The look of everything holds up remarkably well, and that moment when Dorothy opens the door and step out of the sepia into that technicolor dreamscape is pure magic. Judy Garland is terrific as Dorothy, even if she was a tad old for the role (the character comes across as somewhat younger than the teenager Garland depicts). The supporting cast performs admirably throughout, including Margaret Hamilton as the Wicked Witch, and Ray Bolger, Bert Lahr and Jack Haley as the Scarecrow, the Lion, and the Tin Woodsman, respectively, perform perfectly in their roles. And that’s not just in the acting—they nail it in the singing and dancing, too. The musical numbers throughout are great, and the score perfectly complements the action, with “Over the Rainbow” serving not just as the lead number but also as the primary musical theme as well (with a touch of help from Mussorgsky’s Night on Bald Mountain at the Witch’s castle). It is all a delightfully rich tapestry, one that has grown over time to be one of the most beloved movies ever, and deservedly so. It is worth noting that this film is thoroughly within the realm of fantasy stories, even given its literary roots (with the book’s symbolic agenda of critiquing the then-current economic structure), and that that genre has always come in for its share of criticism and outright dismissal from those who pretend to be intellectually superior—yet, it is this fantasy tale that has endured and continues to have cultural relevance, while less whimsical works like, for instance, Dark Victory (another 1939 academy award nominee) is hardly remembered these days. Maybe stories that see the world in more colorful dimensions truly are the ones that inspire us the most. Something to think about the next time you feel like watching or reading the latest work about modern suburban angst or some such thing. As for me, I’ll gladly go over the rainbow to bring a bit of brightness to my own angsty life. 

Labyrinth

The immediate impression you get watching this movie: this same material would have been a different flick—and probably a better one, or at least more polished—in the hands of the contemporary master Steven Spielberg. As it is, we get Jim Henson's film, and, no disrespect to him and his unique and special creative vision, the limitations of the puppet approach do come through here. This is not to say that we’re left with a bad movie here, just that there is an undercurrent throughout these proceedings that suggests that this could have been something much more than it ultimately is. As this film is now largely forgotten, the implication is that that is not just my own reaction. Setting aside what might have been, we do get a mildly entertaining movie with many arresting visuals, and even a few well-developed puppet characters, the latter of which hold their own against the two principals, David Bowie (who was clearly having tons of fun playing the goblin king Jareth) and a teen-aged and ravishingly beautiful Jennifer Connelly as the heroine Sarah, who is occasionally feckless but ultimately proves worthy of the viewer’s admiration. Not that that’s a surprise; this is, after all, a fairy tale, and not one of those Grimm stories where someone dies a wretched death. It all works out in the end, both in the plot and for this movie as a solid if not spectacular work of fantasy entertainment. It just would have been interesting to see what a different filmmaker might have done with this material. 

The Little Prince (2015)

Repeat after me: you’re not better than. No, you’re not. This should be an obvious thing, and yet, again and again, we see stuff like this movie, where someone takes an acknowledged classic and tries to “improve” upon it by telling the story their own way, or even their own story piggybacked on top of the original tale. It never really works, and while this film represents a valiant effort, and one where a certain reverence for the original material is evident, the effort is not entirely successful here, either. The movie is at its best in the scenes where, in expertly rendered stop-action animation, it relates the core of Saint-Exupery’s fairy tale. In the CGI animated frame story, the work is less effective, probably because that part of the proceedings looks and feels too familiar (the character and world designs are straight out of the now-standard computer animation playbook) in contrast to the older yet somehow fresher look of the stop action, which hews more closely to the style of the original author’s “decorations.” That’s not to say the frame is without any impact; certain aspects of the more modern tale hit home with the viewer. But it just doesn’t compare to the creative vision that lies at the heart of the fable. The wind, sand and stars are, indeed, essential elements of the world, and you just can’t improve upon them—even if you think you’re so much better than those who walked the earth—or any asteroid—before you. 

True Grit (1969)

How the West was wiseass. A lot of the pleasure in watching this movie comes from the wry character of the dialogue—to be expected from a Charles Portis-penned script—particularly the sharp-tongued observations of John Wayne’s Rooster Cogburn and Kim Darby’s Maddie Ross. Their performances, along with solid support from Glen Campbell, raise these proceedings above the level of your average Western. Also enjoyable is seeing all those vistas of the then-still-unspoiled landscape—Colorado in this case—splashed across the screen. It’s not exactly a deep story, but overall the tale provides enough to interest the viewer. I don’t know about grit, per se, but this one certainly has solid, traditional movie-making on its side—and usually that’s enough. 

Moana 2

Part of the problem is quickly apparent: this story feels rushed, like it was not given any chance to develop organically. Instead, the tale is presented more as a “plot accompli” based on presumed prior knowledge, clumsy explication, and prioritizing cultural instruction. Indeed, a lot of the early part of the movie is like the world’s most highly-produced sensitivity training workshop video. You get the feeling that, unlike with the first movie, where the cultural consultants were there to give input, here they were allowed to go nuts—and not to particularly entertaining effect. So the proceedings begin with something of a deficit. Does the film turn it around? Yes, to an extent, largely through the efforts of Auli’i Cravalho, who still brings great presence and charm as the title character. Among the supporting cast, Dwayne Johnson is still mostly entertaining as Maui, while the rest of Moana’s fellow sailors are a hit or miss bunch. The musical numbers fall within a range, from solid to middling; a few advance the story well enough, though none are really standout pieces. All in all, this is a decent outing, nothing to be ashamed of but not really anything spectacular. Apparently, this will be one in a chain of islands, so to speak, so any review of this flick will hardly be the last word; maybe we’ll have to experience the voyage in total before we really know where it goes. 

Fitzcarraldo

What a truly bizarre experience. The story has dimensions of the absurd woven throughout, with a premise—an obsessed opera lover will go to any lengths to achieve his dreams—that sounds like the setup for a very weird and possibly not particularly funny joke. Much of the proceedings comes across as some sort of illusion or dream sequence, especially with the inclusion of a cast of characters—mostly in the early scenes—who all seem to have been selected for the grotesque nature of their appearance, giving the film a Grand Guingnol vibe. On a superficial level, one may be tempted to see this story as simply a rendering of one man’s madness or folly, but taking a broader view leads one to see this as, perhaps, a metaphor for the folly of the introduction—indeed, imposition—of Western European ways and ideas into places and landscapes and among people where it is completely alien and not at all likely to succeed. Make of that what you will. This film offers plenty of food for thought, an interesting (to say the least) performance from Klaus Kinski as the titular odd bird, and the spectacle of a steamship being hauled over a mountain, yet I think ultimately it is just too weird for the average viewer. 

The Clan of the Cave Bear

I was a history major in college, but don’t ask me to account for the veracity of anything you see in this flick. Actually, this story is supposed to be prehistoric, so I guess that would put it into the anthropologist’s territory. Whatever. As it is, these adventures of Ice Age Barbie are mildly diverting, if not exactly exciting. Daryl Hannah does a decent job portraying the heroine, not that the script of grunts and gestures really makes big time demands on any of the actors. The most striking thing that I found in this representation of Paleolithic humanity was the large role that shame played in community relations back then (at least as they’re imagined here); one can’t help but think, from the perspective of these flamboyantly shameless times, that maybe we as a species unlearned something important. In cinematic terms, this movie is OK—nothing great, nothing terrible, interesting enough to hold the viewer’s attention but not artful or insightful enough to really foster any breakthroughs. At least when you watch it you can be thankful that your cave has decent heating and is lacking in murderous bears. Probably. Your spirit animal may vary. 

The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim

Oh, so that’s why I never got into anime. The plain truth is, with animation, no matter how pretty are the pictures you draw, at the end of the process the characters are simply cartoon characters. That’s fine for certain types of stories, but for others the animation treatment trivializes the project. So it is here. This telling of the Tolkien substory simply lacks the gravitas that Peter Jackson’s original trilogy brought in spades. This should hardly have come as any surprise, as earlier animated versions of the main LOTR story had the same problem, and were largely confined to the memory hole until the iconic live-action movies came along and revitalized interest in the old man’s masterwork. So this deck of drawings was stacked against itself from the start, regardless of the visual innovations brought by the Japanese masters of the form. On its own terms, this flick plays it relatively straight—there aren’t too many of the physical absurdities typical of anime, especially as regards to the fight scenes—which is a good thing, and tells a tale that contains a solid amount of interest, even if it is at best tangential to the main story of Middle-Earth. (Not that the script doesn’t make at least token [Tolkien?] efforts to tie this piece into the overall story thread.) One major plus is the depiction of the main (and made-up for this movie) character of Hera, not just as a story persona but also because she is presented as a smokin’ hot redhead (those anime artists definitely know their way around drawing females). Still, this script is otherwise fairly true to its source material, so a fan can’t complain too much. As noted, there was once a time when the idea of a major movie release based on LOTR would have been absurd, so best not to look a gift Hobbit in the mouth. (Sorry, no actual Hobbits here, though one young character of the Rohirrim tries to fill that void.) Maybe future efforts will learn from this piece’s flaws and offer an improved effort. Or maybe they can just stick to live-action productions, since those are the true, proven winners. That, then, really would be something worth blowing your horn about.

Flow

Enigmatic hardly covers it. This movie is one of those pieces of work that people who are really into New Age stuff will decide is Super Profound and Meaningful. Me, I’m not so sure. Everything in the production screams award-bait intentions, from the consciously lilting score to the unfinished looking rendering of the animal characters—despite the rest of the visuals being presented in lush, hyperrealistic detail—to the almost-referencing of various cultural (Noah’s Ark) and political (climate change) touchstones in the story elements, to the fact that the film is made by a swarm of foreign studios and agencies (the logo drops at the beginning take up about a reel's time on their own) but the lack of dialogue means English speaking audiences can easily digest it...everything strikes as specifically fashioned to gain highbrow attention. I’m not sure, however, that that actually translates into an important movie. The animal cast, through the course of the story, ultimately show no less amounts of anthropomorphism than your average Disney flick characters—they just do it more subtly, without the singing and wisecracks. And you can’t help but have scientific considerations butt into your assessment of the happenings (example: shouldn’t these creatures be starving to death by now?). Still, there’s enough visual, emotional and action depth to hold the viewers interest throughout, even if the journey winds up being a somewhat circular ride. Gush if you must, but I expect my breathtaking works of staggering genius to wow me a little more than this. Even with a cat protagonist, I can only muster a MEOW here; I’ll save the PURR for something that doesn’t insist upon itself so much.