Gladiator II

The glory that was Rome does not really exist today. Similarly, the glory that was the first movie does not exist in this sequel either. Many of the elements are the same—they even recycle a few images from the first flick—but they do not retain the power they once had. This is not to call this outing a bad movie; it holds the viewer's attention throughout, and there is more than enough moviemaking competence on display for credit to be given. But some animating principle is lacking in this work; the proceedings do not carry as much emotional heft as the earlier work. Even the presence of the usually reliable Denzel Washington does not lift the story above standard issue sword and sandals spectacle; only briefly do we see his usual spark crackle across screen and scene. And, to top it all off, the script seems to rewrite Roman history to boot. The thumb points sideways for this one, and the Cat can only muster a MEOW. Take that as a sign from the gods. 

The Secret of NIMH

Why did every movie circa ’82 have to have Dom DeLuise in it? This movie is celebrated as director Don Bluth's magnum effort to preserve the classic animation style of his former employer—specifically, the ultra-realistic style of Disney films from the studio's original burst of cinematic success in the prewar era. In terms of this work's visuals, Bluth largely succeeded. Everything looks fantastic here, and the drawings provide the sort of real-world setting that grounds an animated story and gives the audience a sharper sense of the story’s truth. Unfortunately, movies are composed of not just visuals but of characters and narrative, too. With the former, the DeLuise question is germane. The unfunny comic's presence as the crow Jonathan indicates Bluth's devotion to old (and, indeed, current) Disney standards to a fault, by including a comic relief persona whose only purpose seems to be to bring advancement of the story to a grinding, grating halt. It is a fault that is shared by other actors as well; many of the characters are simply played too broadly. The plot moves better when the focus remains more closely on Mrs. Brimsby and the rats of NIMH; there, you have an actual interesting storyline to pay attention to. But even there, the scenes featuring the heroine and her children are too treacly for my taste. Speaking of which, the closing song, with vocals by profoundly ’70s lounge lizard Paul Williams, is a truly ghastly number, the kind of sickly sweet tune that you can’t believe exists as anything other than a parody of an animated movie’s closing song. Lastly, it’s worth mentioning that some of the more outlandish story elements come across as downright ridiculous given the mostly prosaic setting of the tale; it’s difficult to buy in on the magical doings, much of which occur without any context. Ultimately, that’s a judgment that holds true throughout on this film: terrific visuals and a decent story that are let down by an oddly off-kilter tone that pervades all the way through. It’s no wonder, then, that a film that had such promise, and essentially made such promises, ultimately came up short of success, even if it did eventually find enough following to become a cult favorite. The real secret revealed here: you can’t just get by doing one thing right—you have to put the whole package together.

Hamlet (1996)

A re-viewing of the longtime Best of All inductee. A second look, from a greater temporal distance, reveals more of the flaws in Kenneth Branagh’s wildly ambitious, comprehensive retelling of Shakespeare’s most iconic work. Many of the performances are overwrought; Kate Winslet’s Ophelia in particular is prone to hysterics (while she lasts). Other roles are simply miscast, more for the sake of including “names” than for harmonizing actor with character. And, let’s be blunt: it’s really, really long—almost to the point of being impossible to watch in one sitting. So must this film be jettisoned from the ranks of the great works? Hardly. Its ambition is its brilliance. Few could take on the challenge of presenting the full text of the play and make so much of it entertaining and relevant. The movie start to finish is a visual feast, both in its rich setting and the visual flair demonstrated by its composition, mise-en-scene, and attention to exquisite detail. And the highlights—and there are many—are as memorable as any I have seen in all my life of viewing cinema. It is worth accepting the challenge to view this work and absorb its ecumenical vision of personal and political tragedy. This above all things: to great cinema be true—even unto accepting it in its fullness.

Murder on the Orient Express (2017)

A mystery that has long since been solved is no mystery at all. Hence, if you're making a remake of a mystery movie--especially if it is perhaps the most famous mystery of all time--then obviously that film has to be about something more than solving the case. So it is here, where the heart of the exercise comes in the form of style and personality. Director and lead Branagh comes through in both aspects, delivering a visually sumptuous film while also crafting a lively and fun version of Hercule Poirot. The rest of the cast acquits themselves well, too. The only real issue lies in the writer, believe it or not. Christie's plot and solution, seen through the perspective of a lack of surprise, is frankly absurd and something of a cheat. But, again, this outing is not really about the solution anyway. Go ahead and board the train; you'll have a good enough trip for your ticket price.

Henry V (1989)

The Branagh film--basically his coming-out party. It's undeniably a classic, though I must admit that there are some flaws here. For me the whole Falstaff back-story scenes seem flat, though whether the fault lies with this production or the source material (!) is debatable. What stands without question is that when Branagh's Henry is on screen, this movie is electrifying; no wonder everyone was so impressed.