Les Misérables *½

Director: Tom Hooper
Cast: Hugh Jackman, Russell Crowe, Anne Hathaway
Amanda Seyfried, Eddie Redmayne, Helena Bonham Carter, Sacha Baron Cohen
Samantha Barks, Aaron Tveit

Based on the eponymous musical by Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schönberg (itself an adaptation of the famous novel by Victor Hugo) Les Misérables is a story about revenge, injustice and doomed love...or at least that's what one gathers it's supposed to be about, considering how bloated and lacking in feeling this adaptation is. The film opens with an impressive shot as the camera rises from under the ocean and we watch a group of prisoners raise a ship in the galleys. Among them is Jean Valjean (Jackman), a man about to be released who has been in prison for two decades for stealing a loaf of bread. Keeping a close eye on Valjean is inspector Javert (Crowe) who reminds him he must respect his parole. Immediately a dynamic of abuser and abused is established and we know that Javert will make Valjean's life a living hell.

Yet the problem is that we know this only by default. Les Misérables is one of the most celebrated works of literature in history and people from all ages have come to know it even if they're not fully aware of it (The Fugitive anyone?) but director Tom Hooper depends so much on the audience's knowledge of the novel/musical that he pretty much forgets to make a "movie" to go with the story. Before we know it, we're back with a clean shaven Valjean who has changed his name and become mayor of a small town (how? Why? We never know). His peaceful existence is suddenly threatened when Javert is appointed as guard in his town. This Roadrunner/Coyote dynamic goes on during the rest of the film as life keeps putting Javert in the reformed Valjean's way even when he's trying to do nothing but good. Among his greatest deeds is the adoption of Cosette, the daughter of doomed grisette Fantine (Hathaway), perhaps the most miserable of them all, who dies after selling her hair, contracting an unnamed disease (*cough* TB *cough*) and killing it with a rendition of "I Dreamed a Dream".

The plot spans over two decades and clumsily tries to fit a ridiculous amount of uninteresting events into its overtly melodramatic structure, yet the problem isn't how over the top everything is but how inefficiently Hooper puts it on film. The film is supposed to be grand, sweeping, majestic etc. but the myriad of topics covered in Victor Hugo's historical fiction simply slip through Hooper's fingers. Les Misérables is an epic and simply put, Tom Hooper is no David Lean. He makes it seem as if the historical context exists exclusively in the service of the romantic plots and the Valjean/Javert dynamic. Things just happen and we never truly understand why. But he also fails in giving all these characters a true emotional background. They too, exist there only to serve the director's vision.

Hooper and DP Danny Cohen shoot every scene as if it was being viewed through a smartphone picture application, creating distasteful compositions that contribute nothing more than "style" to a movie that should've been ruled by substance. If the songs weren't loud and dramatic enough, Hooper's camera zooms so close to the actors' faces that it seems he's trying to make a statement about their tonsils. His stylistic choices (why try to develop an auteur vision if it's so inefficient?) often take you out of the movie and you begin to question everything that surrounds it. Why don't characters seem to age if it's been 20 years? Why are Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter still playing their Sweeney Todd characters? Why does Éponine seem to have been written to be the heroine in a telenovela? Why isn't Russell Crowe's fantastic Javert (the only character who seems to have a moral ambiguity) featured in more scenes where he's not being reduced to a sneering villain?

Les Misérables is sure to make viewers just as miserable as its characters, unless they're willing to pretend the movie's over after "I Dreamed a Dream". During the key sequence Hathaway is shot like Falconetti and she does so much with her face and your emotions, that her work should be considered nothing if not truly miraculous.

The Impossible ***½

Director: J.A. Bayona
Cast: Naomi Watts, Ewan McGregor, Tom Holland
Samuel Joslin, Oaklee Pendergast, Geraldine Chaplin
Marta Etura, Sönke Möhring

If you've seen the trailer for The Impossible you may think you've seen it all/enough. The preview notoriously seemed devised to squeeze as many tears as it could from its viewers as it praised the courage of the human spirit, and yes, they weren't lying, the film does highlight a family's struggle during one of the most tragic natural disasters in recent history but when it comes to its actual cinematic qualities the film stands closer to being a horror movie than it stands to being an old fashioned weepie.

Based on the true story of a Spanish family, the film opens a few days before the tsunami that ravaged Thailand on December 26, 2004. We first meet Maria (Watts), her husband Henry (McGregor) and their kids Lucas, Thomas and Simon (Holland, Joslin and Pendergast respectively) as they are on the plane on what was supposed to be a wonderful Christmas vacation. From the start, director Bayona seems to be setting the stage for something unconventional, given that the movie is bookmarked by a similar moment, time by which the characters' lives have changed forever.

It takes just a few scenes into the movie before we hear a thunderous roar and see terrifying waves approach and take everyone and everything standing on their path. Maria and Lucas end up together, trying to make their way to a hospital after she's endured some gruesome injuries. Henry and the younger children also find themselves in the same geographical place and the movie spends most of its time trying to get the family back together. Needless to say so, and this is in no way a spoiler given that the film is based on real events, the family does get back together, but the terrific thing about Bayona's movie is that it's never only worried about reaching this emotional crescendo. In terms of mood, the film is always closer on the verge of existentialist horror than simplistic melodrama.

Bayona gained international fame after directing The Orphanage, a Gothic horror movie that failed because it tried too hard to connect its stylish visual references to the trite plot it tried to impose on viewers. In The Impossible, the director achieves precisely what he seemed to have been aiming for in his previous movie because he proves that the terrors inflicted by nature are always more sadistic and impossible to comprehend than those suggested by the supernatural. The movie then is often a terrifying voyage into the very heart of darkness (it's no coincidence that Maria is reading Joseph Conrad on the plane) as we see some of these characters contemplate if survival is what they really want.

The entire cast is extraordinary, with little wonder Holland infusing his scenes with liveliness and controlled fear and McGregor achieving a new landmark in terms of his wonderful screen presence. He has a small miraculous moment where he turns a phone call into a heartbreaking representation of true suffering. Is there any other actor whose tears pierce our hearts in this way?  The film however belongs to Watts, who takes on this character with ferocity and soul. The physical struggles Maria goes through are nothing compared to the way in which Watts emits primal screams - sometimes just using her eyes - as she faces the possibility of death and the even worse idea that she might leave her child alone.

Usually films about real life tragedies trivialize the emotional impact precisely by assuming that the universal can always be found in the specific. Bayona knows that the story of this family isn't the story of "everyone", in  fact he makes a point out of letting us see the physical context of the story we're watching. The director is aware that his movie wouldn't have been made if it didn't portray Caucasian, upper middle class fear, after all  stories of foreign tourists were among the most famous in the wake of the tragedy and there is something quite subversive in how he knows this and uses it as a way to challenge our ability to identify with characters as an audience. At all times we're aware that there are people suffering around these families, that their pain is in no way lesser than the ones of the characters being played by the movie stars. We see people from all walks of life being reduced to wandering souls trying to find the will to stay alive, even despite their better knowledge, but the film doesn't concentrate on them and it seems in a way the main characters are unaware of this fully, but isn't this desire of self-preservation actually quite truthful? Aren't our loved ones the objects of our worries and distress when tragedy strikes?

By the time the film ends, Watts has a moment where Bayona allows her to externalize everything she's been holding in for the entire movie. In a single scene she lets us see how the world has changed in a matter of days, we know that she might be leaving the place of the tragedy but that the pain will probably never leave her mind. We see how for the first time she's opening her eyes to a world she had been prepared to ignore. Bayona is merciless without being cruel as we both pity her for the amount of nightmares that will haunt her for as long as she lives and envy her strong need to stay alive if only because that's the thing she knew how to do best.

Killing Them Softly ***

Director: Andrew Dominik
Cast: Brad Pitt, James Gandolfini, Ray Liotta, Scoot McNairy
Ben Mendelsohn, Vincent Curatola, Richard Jenkins

Last time writer/director Andrew Dominik and Brad Pitt worked together they created a searing portrait about the perils of fame for fame's sake in The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. The movie's elegiac tone glorified a past that had allowed violence to become romantic - something the Western genre seems keen on perpetuating - which is why it feels almost shocking to see how unromantic Killing Them Softly is from the get go.

The film opens with a stunning sequence in which the camera follows Frankie (McNairy) as he walks through what seems to be a storm of waste. The scene is inter-cut with fragments of a vintage speech given by then Senator Barack Obama, and the sound seems distorted at times. Immediately Dominik reveals to us when the movie's set and how it'll be a vision of the chaos in America as interpreted by the violent clash of sounds and images he bombards us with.

Frankie then meets his friend Russell (Mendelsohn) and the two attend a job interview of sorts where they agree to rob a Mob protected card game. Things of course don't work out too well for them and soon they have not one, but three exterminating angels trying to hunt them, the most notorious of all being the suave Jackie (Pitt), a middleman between criminals and their debtors sent to restore balance in the fragile underworld.

The film's biggest purpose seems to be drawing parallels between the crime world and politics which tend to be seen as "legal crimes". This is a movie about people with unconventional jobs trying to make a living for themselves. The tone is dark, but the dialogues can be hilarious, leading to a series of confused chuckles; can we really laugh about these matters? The film's most stunning sequence features a brutal beating under the rain, in which the rites of violence seem both messy and beautiful. When in a latter scene, DP Greg Fraser recurs to slow motion we find ourselves in the presence of a film where we are supposed to see the aesthetic values of cruelty, reminiscent perhaps of how sometimes we're fascinated by how a wild predator devours its prey.

Killing Them Softly is by no means a perfect movie and the director gives his audience little chance to digest the movie on their own terms. We are constantly shown political videos that seem out of place, given that the movie could've spoken as an allegory without drawing such obvious parallels. For its harsh view of America, as the country once again seems to be entering a hope and change renaissance, the movie will prove to be quite difficult to sit through, its pessimism perhaps only "rescued" by its brilliant cinematic values.

Keep the Lights On ***½

Director: Ira Sachs

Cast: Thure Lindhart,  Zachary Booth

Paprika Steen,Julianne Nicholson, Souleymane Sy Savane

Writer/director Ira Sachs has expressed how his newest movie Keep the Lights On is a completely autobiographical take of his relationship with literary agent Bill Clegg; yet even without knowing about the real life details, the movie’s lived in specificity would’ve still made viewers think they were witnessing an unadulterated form of artistic confession.

Shot in yellowish hues by Thimios Bakatakis, the film opens during a late New York City night that seems extracted from a 1970’s dream. It’s 1997 and we see Erik Rothman (Lindhart) trying to hook up over an anonymous telephone hotline; he describes himself, his tastes and reveals his location in hopes of someone who will be able to host. After several attempts he finally finds someone who isn’t flaky. He reaches Paul’s (Booth) apartment where after a mere glance they proceed to engage in passionate intercourse. Before Erik leaves, Paul tells him not to get his hopes up, he has a girlfriend.

In almost any other kind of movie, this would’ve been the first turn of the screw: will the charming Erik be able to conquer young Paul’s heart despite his not being out of the closet? In this film however, we are presented with something much more fascinating as it shatters our need for a traditional structure. The next time we see Paul and Erik they are together. We don’t know what happened to the girlfriend, we don’t know if/how Pault dealt with his situation, all we know is that they’re a couple and that Paul likes doing crystal meth when they have sex.

Keep the Lights On isn’t a “story” as much as it is a mosaic of a relationship. We follow these two characters for over a decade and we see them struggle with work, interpersonal issues and addiction. Sachs doesn’t linger much on specific problems as he does on more general arcs, the most prominent of all perhaps being Paul’s drug addiction. However to mention the film as a movie about drugs would be to disregard Sach’s artistry and his ability to study and develop characters without reducing them or us to easily digestible stereotypes.

We are not supposed to know everything that happens to these people, after all in real life how often can we say we get to know every little thing about someone else? And perhaps this is the movie’s point. In the end Sachs isn’t as interested in sharing his story with the world as he is in dissecting the essence of a love affair. What are the things we keep once they’re over? How do these events play in our heads when we revisit them?

Sach’s cleverly makes Erik a foreign documentary filmmaker. Cleverly, because in his relationship, Erik is an adventurer trying to conquer uncharted territory but refusing to drop his expedition. Throughout the film Erik is working on a movie about gay artist Avery Woods (who you have a desire to Google from the instant he’s mentioned) and we see how Sachs tries to use art both as a demon and an exorcist. It’s hinted on many occasions that Erik’s work often pushes him away from Paul, yet the director asks us: how would I be able to deal with this if it weren’t with my art?

It helps that Erik is played with such sense of wonder by the extraordinary Lindhart, who combines a stunning physical presence with a surprising childlike behavior. He breaks our hearts as we realize that his love for Paul is perhaps just as dangerous an addiction, yet he remains so human throughout, that when one of his friends confronts him, we can’t help but relish in his weakness. Erik, more than Paul even, is a character we want to know in real life and Lindhart’s beautiful performance makes us believe we just might after leaving the theater.

Pitch Perfect ***½

Director: Jason Moore
Cast: Anna Kendrick, Brittany Snow, Rebel Wilson, Anna Camp
Alexis Knapp, Ester Dean, Hana Mae Lee, Skylar Astin
Elizabeth Banks, John Michael Higgins

Movies about young people are often petty, predictable, condescending or a combination of them all, which is why it's always a real pleasure to find one that defies expectations and the limits of age group. You know the kind...Sixteen Candles, Mean Girls, Bring It On, Easy A, Clueless. On paper, Pitch Perfect had all the makings of a bomb: a movie about a group of female a capella singers who recruit the new tough girl, who then proceeds to show them how it's done while discovering she too has a heart.

The group in question are the Barden Bellas led by prim control freak Aubrey (Camp) who favors Ace of Base and flight attendant uniforms and the tough girl is freshman student Beca (Kendrick), an amateur DJ who only joins the group to show her dad she has some social skills. After a shameful event last time they went to regionals, the Bellas are hard at work trying to regain their old glory and start taking on "unconventional" members; besides Beca, they make room for soft spoken Lilly (Lee), seductive Stacie (Knapp) and the full figured Fat Amy (a scene stealing Wilson).

Throughout the movie it's pretty obvious where things are headed for, but there is not a single second here that doesn't feel fresh and original. Director Moore works Kay Cannon's screenplay (based on a book by Mickey Rapkin) in a way that we get to know the characters well enough without recurring to overdone expositions or cliché (Banks and Higgins are phenomenal in short parts). There is a scene where the Bellas decide to have a heart to heart that's underplayed in all the right ways. There are lines and dialogues that you know you will be quoting for years to come and even the musical selection is rather supreme (hits from Madonna to Kelly Clarkson make key appearances). The cast is excellent; all the actors create an enviable synergy that works because, just as in the plot, it takes the best from people who couldn't be more different if they tried.

The best part about Pitch Perfect is realizing its pleasures aren't merely Glee Stockholm Syndrome, but that through heart and wit it injects new life into something trite and overdone. The film truly has nothing new to say and it doesn't reinvent any art forms, however it does what it does so well, that just like the pop songs it pays homage to, it gets under your skin and there will be nothing you can do to help yourself from moving to its beat.

Trouble with the Curve ***

Director: Robert Lorenz
Cast: Clint Eastwood, Amy Adams, Justin Timberlake
John Goodman, Matthew Lillard

Clint Eastwood is an American institution. Like all institutions, his importance seems to be inexplicable to some and unquestionable to others. Trouble with the Curve is the first movie in almost twenty years where he hasn't directed himself and his first starring role since what everyone thought would be his swan song, yet these facts will most likely be overlooked in light of the icon's recent "coming out" as a true political conservative. Therefore the film will most likely be examined, digested and analyzed as a representation of this "new" phase in Clint's career: the one where he came back to bite Hollywood in the ass. Impartial and objective as we may try to be, we are only human after all.

As humans, we might find ourselves rolling our eyes when veteran baseball scout Gus (played by Eastwood) grunts, mumbles and growls at every sign of modernity, delicateness or attempts by his daughter Mickey (Adams) to reach out to his "human" side. We might also find it preposterous to realize that Gus is nothing but a perpetuation of the Clint persona: a brutish cowboy from a long gone era who in the end has a real heart. Yet, despite the undeniable reactionary nature of this movie (essentially an antithesis to last year's Moneyball in how it defies the idea that computers are better at baseball than humans) there is something utterly charming and even pleasurable about how the movie shapes itself like old fashioned entertainment.

Unlike most recent movies that take place in the world of sports, this one realizes that not everyone will identify with balls and bats, so it allows its characters to take over and win the audience's love. Eastwood might be doing his usual shtick, but few actors are as selfless when they play a caricature like Clint is. Adams is of course enchanting as usual; watching her play off against Clint is a delight, particularly because he had the potential to eat her up onscreen. Rounding up the cast is Goodman in a best friend/jolly man role, Lillard as a douchy scout trying to steal Clint's throne and Timberlake as Adams' love interest.

The movie seems devoted to making us realize that nothing is as good as old fashioned American values, yet even within its delusion (there's a subplot about immigration that is both uplifting and offensive) it remains completely true to itself, to the point where we can't help but enjoy ourselves and embrace it despite our best knowledge. Almost everyone with half a brain will leave the theater thinking Eastwood is so reactionary he's scary, but the same people will probably want to have a beer with him and listen to his stories...and that's the trouble with institutions.

Brave ***

Director: Mark Andrews, Brenda Chapman

It’s a shame that sometime in the last ten years, the word “Disney movie” became associated with old fashioned, sappy and obsolete when compared to more progressive animation studios like Dreamworks, Blue Sky and especially Pixar. Although the quality of Disney Animation Studios did diminish (sadly taking down their 2D branch) the true thing is that the house of the mouse remained loyal to what Walt had once envisioned; making magic in our world seem possible.

The old sing and dance cartoon flicks that once made the studio the most groundbreaking filmmakers in the world, became object of parody. But how many of us still treasure the countless times we saw Peter Pan and Dumbo growing up? And how have we come to realize that despite their undeniable profundity and complexity, Pixar movies will never truly relit that first spark of awe ignited by Disney classics?

Pixar’s sophisticated filmmaking techniques have spoiled us yes, but sometimes it’s still refreshing to let ourselves be enchanted by a simple (not to be confused with simplistic) fairytale. Brave, might be the most effortless film to be put out by the Pixar brand, and it truly feels much more like a “Disney” movie than one made by the people behind Wall-E and Toy Story, but this in the end doesn’t seem to matter much. Despite the film not being the melting pot of “will-they-pull-this-off”s Pixar has made us used to, it still contains the sincerity and deep love of storytelling that has made them such beacons of creativity.

Set in Scotland, the film centers on the unorthodox Princess Merida, a hot headed beauty who’d rather spend the day horseback riding and shooting arrows, than learning how to sew and training to find the perfect husband. Her mother, Queen Elinor, finds herself in a constant battle with her daughter who refuses to conform to tradition; it doesn’t help that her husband King Fergus seems almost oblivious to everything going on around them.

When Merida defies the rules and refuses to choose among the candidates offered to her in marriage, she and her mother undergo the ultimate kind of battle. The central twist in the film can easily be deduced by anyone who knows how these “try to have some empathy” movies work and when it unfolds, its familiarity somehow makes it feel quite refreshing. The rest of the movie plays out like a well told bedtime story (legends and storytelling are a constant theme in the screenplay) until it surprisingly transforms into something more profound: it’s an oft-touching dissection of the loves our mothers have for us.

Without being preachy or overly sentimental, the film tackles the right balance between what society expects of men and women. The film is filled with stunning action sequences that become even more exciting because of the heroine’s beauty. They do not stimulate the mind in the way watching Angelina Jolie or Sigourney Weaver kicking butt do; they make endless adventure seem possible for people regardless of their gender and sexual orientation. While the “mainstream” lesson might have something to do with how we each own our destiny (which in itself isn’t a shabby lesson at all), the more subversive subtext in the film allude to how women must often battle harder than men and always find themselves at stakes with men and other women. It’s lovely to see a story so devoted to womanhood, especially because of how it comes to represent an entire history of female liberation. See how it reminds us that more often than not, women are the real authority figures in the household, and regardless of how cute they are, isn’t it interesting how Merida’s triplet brothers don’t get to utter a single word in the movie?
By subverting our notions of what a Pixar movie should be, isn’t Brave in a way (from its very form), alluding to the battles faced everyday by women who feel they have to live up to standards created by and for men?

The powerful feminine force behind Brave is especially obvious when compared to the short film that precedes it. In Enrico Casarosa’s La Luna we see the patriarchal system at its most obvious and the dichotomy created by the juxtaposition of the short and feature films, will make for fascinating post-screening conversations among all family members. Will little boys and girls want to be like the nameless boy of La Luna or like Merida? The time will come when the answer won’t really make a difference, only then will we know we are living in a truly brave world.

GBU: "Prometheus", "Salmon Fishing in the Yemen" and "The Amazing Spider-Man".

The Amazing Spider-Man (dir. Mark Webb) ***

The good: It might have felt like an unnecessary reboot but every cast member and line of dialogue brought something utterly refreshing to the series. Andrew Garfield has an adorable quality to him that makes him perfect to play Peter. Emma Stone should be in every movie!  The director made an excellent use of symbolism, this was the first time in the series that truly sexualized Peter's transformation, when he first realizes he can shoot spider webs we find ourselves before one of the best executed symbols of ejaculation (and a teenager's need to do it 24/7). 

The bad: Action scenes weren't half as interesting as moments between Gwen and Peter.

The ugly: Why can't Spider-Man movies have good visual effects? Sigh.

Salmon Fishing in the Yemen (dir. Lasse Hallstrom) *½

The good: Emily Blunt and Ewan McGregor. Also, Kristin Scott Thomas having fun!

The bad: The absolute lack of chemistry between Ewan and Emily.

The ugly: The contemptuous way in which the movie observes the Middle East, the lack of coherence between characters and their motivations. The fact that it's a romantic comedy with no comedy or romance.

Prometheus (dir. Ridley Scott) ***½

The good: A thinking person's blockbuster. The ensemble was ace! Charlize Theron was delicious, Noomi Rapace announced her arrival as an international action heroine and Michael Fassbender proves why everyone's all over him. The best thing in the movie is that it exposes passionate ideas only to pull the rug from under us and remind us that sometimes it's not about the answers but about the sublimity of awe. Why not embrace the beauty of creation and acknowledge the fact that we might never ever fully be able to grasp its magnificence?

The bad: the Alien connection did feel a bit forced.

The ugly: N/A

The Dark Knight Rises **

Director: Christopher Nolan
Cast: Christian Bale, Tom Hardy, Anne Hathaway, Marion Cotillard
Michael Caine, Gary Oldman, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Morgan Freeman

Contrary to popular belief, Christopher Nolan might very well be the least imaginative working director trying to pass himself off as an auteur. Movie after movie he proves that his need for self-indulgence often interferes with his delivery; his two last movies being grandiose exercises in incoherence. With The Dark Knight Rises he unintentionally forces us to ponder on a basic aesthetic conundrum: should all ideas be put on some sort of artistic medium?
The question arises from Nolan's absolutely reactionary statements, given that The Dark Knight Rises practically borders on fascism. The director suggests that any sort of social uprising comes in detriment to the development of capitalism and that only the rich can save the day. If this was 18th century France, Nolan would be on his way to the guillotine.
Perhaps the notion that art should be limited to "good ideas" is fascist in itself, but it's not meant as censure, instead it intends to explore what is it precisely that constitutes art. Nolan's fascism isn't bad from a purely aesthetic level, but it's offensive as "art".
Leni Riefenstahl's ideas and support of the Nazi party might have marked her as an "evil" figure but no one watching "Olympia" or "Triumph of the Will" can say that they fail as art. Riefenstahl challenged the format of the documentary and despite her supremacist thoughts, she encompassed the beauty of the human body in a way that hadn't been achieved since the Renaissance.
Then we come to The Dark Knight Rises and not only are Nolan's ideas disturbing, but his execution is absolutely clunky. Every cut and dialogue aim to contribute to an operatic feeling, but the only crescendo in the film is suggested by Nolan's tasteless use of aural and visual tricks. Why does the villain Bane (Hardy) need to sound like a Darth Vader parody? Why does the tribal chanting that obnoxiously permeates the film have to be related to the Middle East? Why is such great effort made to remind us about the goodness and inherent kindness of billionaires? How is this ever really about Gotham City and not about Bruce Wayne (Bale) trying to save his status as a symbol of power (penniless or not)? What exactly does Nolan have against women (especially those named Marion Cotillard)?
The Dark Knight Rises fails as spectacle, as entertainment and other than for Anne Hathaway's scene stealing turn as Catwoman (she seems to be acting in a vastly superior film) the only thing rising in this installment are its director's delusions. 

GBU: "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel", "Wanderlust", "Total Recall" and "Dark Shadows".

Since writing full reviews - and even Short Takes - has become almost impossible (until someone pays me maybe...hehe) we'll give GBU a try and rank the Good, the Bad and the Ugly of recent films I've seen. Let me know what you think of this new experiment and as always thanks for reading!

Total Recall (dir. Len Wiseman) *½

The good: It's always nice to see Colin Farrell onscreen, although he's made it clear that he now fares much better in smaller works (see Ondine and In Bruges). Also that body, wow!

Also, give Kate Beckinsale more villainous roles, she was delicious in this!

The bad: why bother remaking a movie when you'll just remind audiences of why the first one isn't even much of a classic to begin with? 

The ugly: the whole Asian-meets-futuristic aesthetic felt old in The Matrix and that came out almost 15 years ago, in this movie it just was awful to watch.

Wanderlust (dir. David Wain, 2012) ***

The good: this Aniston/Rudd reunion reminded us what made them so great to watch in The Object of My Affection back in 1998. Their chemistry is spot on! Wain's screenplay (co-written with Ken Marino) is a treasure chest of one liners and manages to be funny without being too crass and insensitive.

The bad: just nitpicking here but the ending was slightly facile.

The ugly: N/A

The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel (dir. John Madden) ***

The good: Judi Dench. Maggie Smith. Tom Wilkinson. Bill Nighy. Celia Imrie. Penelope Wilton. Ronald Pickup. Enough said. This cast is to die for and it's great to see real grown up movies are still being made. Dench's soulful performance was worth the admission ticket. How can an actress do so much with so little?

The bad: too many plots means we always end up craving more from the best, like Wilkinson's character.

The ugly: why does Dev Patel keep playing Indian stereotypes?

Dark Shadows (dir. Tim Burton) *

The good: Michelle Pfeiffer needs to be in more movies! It was also nice to see Helena Bonham Carter pushing her shtick to new places and Eva Green was simply to die for! (No pun intended)

The bad: the Burton-Depp thing has been old for almost a decade now, it's time to stop them!

The ugly: Burton's aesthetics seem to be getting more self indulgent with each passing film, in Dark Shadows the settings were so contrived that we couldn't allow ourselves for a moment to see the fantastical in all of this, everything felt just so stale.

To Rome with Love ***

Director: Woody Allen

Cast: Alec Baldwin, Alessandro Tiberi, Alison Pill, Ellen Page

Fabio Armiliato, Flavio Parenti, Greta Gerwig, Jesse Eisenberg

Judy Davis, Penélope Cruz, Roberto Benigni, Woody Allen

When watching the newest Woody Allen movie, it's almost impossible not to bring up familiar issues; the most prominent of all being, of course, how Woody always brings up the same issues. However with each passing film, it becomes more obvious that even if his themes become repetitive, they are never dull and a so-so Woody Allen film is still leagues ahead of anything else being done.

Take To Rome with Love for example; after the delight that was Midnight in Paris, it seems almost "mediocre" in comparison to the pure joy exuded by the previous one and the deftness with which it wove different eras and stories. Yet the truth is that in each European city, Woody has made a movie that reflects the city's personality through his own neuroses. 

Time and time again, he has exclaimed that his movies aren't autobiographical, and it would be easier to believe him, if he hadn't created a persona we have come to assume is the real Woody Allen.

In Rome, he plays Jerry, a retired musical director, married to a psychoanalyst (played with extreme gusto by the oh-so-ever-fabulous Judy Davis). Jerry is recently retired and according to his wife, equates this with being dead, therefore he sets his hopes in his daughter's (Pill) future father-in-law (Armiliato) a mortician who also happens to have an extraordinary voice.

Obsessed with turning this man into a star, in the process regaining back "life", Jerry dares to stage a version of Pagliacci that defies all good taste and after the critics speak unfavorably, his daughter goes "he's been called worse".

This fighting spirit, which acknowledges how Jerry didn't manage to please critics, might as well be meant to represent Allen's career. For all we know, what if the time-travel concept of Midnight in Paris had been deemed ridiculous? Or what if the ghostly themes in Scoop had been universally praised?

What we come to understand is that he isn't as obsessed with the result as he is with the creative process and that might very well be the unifying theme of the movie; how people are in a constant search of creation.

Besides Jerry's story, we have three other plots that make up the film: there's newlyweds Antonio (Tiberi) and Milly (Mastronardi) who get caught up in a misadventure borrowed from Fellini's The White Sheik and involves movie stars and prostitutes (played by Luca Albanese and Cruz respectively). We also meet John (Baldwin) a famous architect who becomes the voice of the conscience to the young Jack (Eisenberg) as he struggles between staying with his girlfried (Gerwig) or going after her free-spirited friend Monica (Page). Finally there's Leopoldo (Benigni in an unusually restrained performance) an everyman who one day wakes up to realize he's become famous.

All of these stories are told effectively and all seem to represent something that Woody might've wanted to explore further (perhaps on a feature length?) and the film's biggest flaw might be precisely that it wants to cover too much.

The forced finale of the John/Jack story for example (which echoes of the brilliant Vicky Cristina Barcelona) make it seem as if it's the resolution what matters the most and not the fact that we are never told if John is the older version of Jack, or if he's just a "friendly" manifestation of his subconscious or perhaps some playful spirit. Nuances like the Bergman-ian fact that Jack and John are practically the same name, get lost in the tangle of overwritten dialogues and awkwardness from Eisenberg and Page who never fully bloom as truly sexual creatures. 

Then there's the delicious ode to home as seen in the newlywed story, which might not be linked to any other plot (none of the stories ever cross paths) but shares a theme with Leopoldo and his sudden overdose of fame. Allen is a wry observant and lets us know he's aware of how all the Kardashians of the world are occupying spots that once were allotted to people who earned their notoriety on positive terms. 

The movie as a whole, despite its golden cinematography and constant reminders of the city's beauty, can't help but be tinged with bittersweetness, something Allen must've gotten from Fellini's La Dolce Vita, which also made us wonder about the price we pay for fame and reinventing our humdrum lives. 

While Fellini's masterpiece had almost nothing pleasant to say about our society and even declared at one point, everyone would give their backs to purity in the name of hedonism, Allen's take is meeker and shall we say humbler? He is aware of the destruction and chaos, but he makes us look at Rome, with its gorgeous ruins and timeless architecture, and asks us if this isn't worth trying a little harder for.

Violeta ***

Director: Andrés Wood
Cast: Francisca Gavilán, Thomas Durand, Christian Quevedo
Gabriela Aguilera, Roberto Farías

"I will sing wherever there is someone who will listen" says Violeta Parra (Gavilán) when asked about her venues of choice and through Andrés Wood's stunning Violeta (in Spanish poetically titled Violeta se fue a los cielos) we are exposed not to a "biopic" character, but to a woman whose desire to create was stronger than her ties to family or societal norms.
Framed within a TV interview Parra gave in Argentina, the film uses this relatively traditional structure to then travel back and forward in time to tell us her life story. Done with the impressionistic style Olivier Dahan only wishes he'd achieved with his chaotic La vie en rose, this movie transcends biopic-ness to enter something much more profound, it is both poetry and psychological analysis turned into film.
While it obviously intends to paint a portrait of who this woman was, it does so not merely by listing chronological highlights, but by wondering what they meant to her, how they affected her creative process. "Creation is a bird without a flight plan" exclaims Parra, portrayed by the seductive Gavilán as an explosive creature, often overflowing with passions. Where a less talented performer would've turned Parra into an exercise of mimicry, Gavilán infuses her with impressive energy, creating little moments in the performance that can not be considered anything other than brilliant. She gives herself to this character and has no problem exploring Parra's body issues (the scene where she grabs her stomach as if asking god why can't she be young again is chilling and heartbreaking). For those unfamiliar with Parra, she will display a range of emotions that will undoubtedly send them looking for her work, wondering if she was this vibrant and powerful.
The answer will of course be yes, since not only did she establish a revolutionary folk movement in South America, but she also became an example of creation that went beyond the laws of men. The movie has no issue in showing Parra was no angel, audiences might leave the film wondering why she abandoned her children for so long, why she didn't become more of a martyr and why doesn't she fit the characteristics of artists whose lives become movies?
Wood chose an atypical style to craft his film and makes it become a magical realist musical. There are never moments of sudden epiphany where we see how Parra came to create this and that, instead he uses her legacy to trace back the emotional and psychological states that she was in when she made them. It might sound ironic to bring this up, but the movie could have no sound or dialogues and still be powerful, because Wood's images speak just as loudly as Parra's music (that he chooses not to use her most famous song during any key scenes is truly admirable).
Violeta is an homage to a great artist, which at the same time seems to be competing with her work. This doesn't mean that Wood undermines Parra's music (or her graphic arts) but that he loves film with the same intensity that Parra loved her own devices, and would by no means let external factors deter his own creation.

(Very) Short Takes: "MIB 3", "Madagascar 3", "21 Jump Street", "The Intouchables".

Sometimes adaptations of TV shows work better than they should, which happens to be the case with 21 Jump Street. Recurring to the modern fad of bromances, this one has former high school enemies Morton Schmidt (Hill) and Greg Jenko (Tatum) become best friends during their training at Police Academy. The geek learns from the jock (no need to point out who plays what, right?) and soon the roles are once again inverted when they're sent back to high school on an undercover assignment. The film doesn't really make an effort to be much more than it should be, although it has to be said that when compared to recent comedies, this one -gasp-is surprisingly funny throughout. Hill and Tatum don't stretch their acting muscles beyond what we know them for, but the screenplay and the high-spirited direction of dynamic duo Lord and Miller make it pleasant, sometimes hilarious(despite moments of massive eye-rolling) and actually rather sweet.

Those who take so much pride in belittling Hollywood for its mundane, lowbrow sensibilities, and brag about the wonders of European cinema should be eating their words while watching The Intouchables. The movie isn't just proof that even the French can do crappy cinema, it's also proof that they have seen something they want to emulate in the lowbrow Hollywood movies they criticize so much. This "feel good" flick, was "inspired by true events" and shows us how Driss, a poor man from the Parisian projects (Omar Sy) injects new life to lonesome, millionaire tetraplegic Philippe (Francois Cluzet). The movie feels like a montage of everything that's wrong with how movies choose to treat their audiences - there is nary a moment that doesn't feel calculated and overstudied - and while its magical negro center might be excused by France's lack of racist self-awareness, there is much to be said about the way in which it reduces its characters to silly archetypes, nothing but shadows of real humans.

If you enjoyed Madagascar and Madagascar 2, this unnecessary sequel is just what you were looking for. There isn't much to add to this series which by now has become a purely money-making enterprise. This time around, the escaped zoo animals join a circus and travel across Europe as they try to avoid being caught by a psychotic Animal Control officer. The movie is aimed at children who will undoubtedly be enthralled by the simple humor, visual gags and colorful situations. Thinking adults however might be offended by the film's complete lack of subtlety, especially because there aren't any cheap jokes it shies away from (including countless punches at how Europeans are "weird"). From its use of Katy Perry, to the way in which it avoids taking any real risks, this is one of those movies you know were better than the previous chapter but still won't remember the day after you've seen it.

Men in Black 3 seems to be rooted on a strange thirst for 90s nostalgia, that has invaded movie screens recently. While the first installment was groundbreaking and helped establish Will Smith as the king of summer movies, the ten years that have gone by after the sequel have proved that time isn't always forgiving. Tommy Lee Jones practically disappears for the entire movie and is replaced by Josh Brolin (never a bad thing to be honest) who plays a younger version of his character. The film's time-travel premise gives path to many plot holes, confusion and all the issues brought on by bending time, but despite its shortcomings (Will Smith isn't half as charismatic onscreen as he used to be) the film results rather enjoyable.

Grades
21 Jump Street **½
The Intouchables *
Madgascar 3: Europe's Most Wanted **
Men in Black 3 **

Snow White and the Huntsman *

Director: Rupert Sanders
Cast: Kristen Stewart, Chris Hemsworth, Charlize Theron
Sam Claflin, Ian McShane, Bob Hoskins, Eddie Marsan, Toby Jones
Brian Gleeson, Sam Spruell, Ray Winstone, Noah Huntley

While fairy tales always ask us to suspend our disbelief, few have done so with the preposterous notion that there is a universe where Kristen Stewart is fairer than Charlize Theron. The South African beauty plays Evil Queen, to Stewart's title heroine in what, more often than not, results a tepid attempt to update the iconic German tale.
Set in a land designed by fans of Game of Thrones and The Lord of the Rings, the movie pretty much relies on pastiche to fool us into thinking it's doing something original and "adult". As if children's tales weren't already encoded lessons for us to carry well into adult life, this adaptation tries to squeeze every little grown up thing about Snow White and turn it into an "issue".
No longer do we have a heroine whose fate is sealed by the vanity of her stepmother; now we have a political refugee who escapes prison with the help of a brutish widower (Hemsworth) and turns into a combination of Joan of Arc and Jesus, as she communicates with the animals, is "chosen" by the spirits of nature and eventually comes back from the dead.
While there is nothing essentially wrong with how Kristen Stewart looks, her eternal funereal appearance makes it impossible for non-Twilight loving audience members to get why she's the heroine. Her skin is so pale that most of the time you can practically smell the embalming liquid oozing from her body. Then there's the whole problem about how much she seems to hate the cameras. She constantly tries to stay away from them and in a movie named after the character you play, this becomes quite the problem. Miss Stewart not only looks awkward during every scene, but she also invalidates the effort made by all other cast members.
You never believe that someone like Theron's evil Queen Ravenna would be intimidated in the slightest way by Stewart's Snow White. Much less would you believe that a studly man like Chris Hemsworth's nameless huntsman would fall for her.
It's as if the movie is playing a joke on us. Can it be that at some level it's trying to show us that you don't need to be a great beauty to land a blonde, Aussie stud? That might be interesting but then the movie would be going against what the screenplay makes us think about Ravenna.
Theron screams, moans and grunts her way out of one of the strangest characters she's ever played. She chews the scenery with extreme gusto but her performances comes off looking like Lena Heady's Cersei Lannister on acid. She just screams too much.
Even when the situation calls for it, Theron is always one step beyond, which could very well be more obvious because of the lack of effort put in by her antagonist.
While it's true that at all times the movie should contrast the evil and good characters, Snow White and the Huntsman suffers because it does this with no restraint and almost no control. Instead of creating the wicked rivalry suggested by Theron, the film delivers almost bipolar moments particularly in how it doesn't know where it stands on sex and if it does, it chooses an almost retrograde notion that chastity equals endless virtue.
Where Theron's Ravenna is in full control of her sexuality (so much that she murders her husband while riding him during a sexual act), Snow white is nothing if not asexual. Not since Anne Baxter's infamous heaving chest and cries of "Moah-sez", has someone looked more painfully horny than Kristen Stewart. The problem is that where Baxter was actually enjoying herself, Kristen's parted-lip shtick doesn't have a pinch of eroticism. When in the last scenes of the movie we see her turn from Jesus to Elizabeth I, the way she pants and opens her lip as they place the crown on her head, would have made a fascinating commentary on how power might just be the ultimate aphrodisiac. But then we see K. Stew is staring at Chris Hemsworth, and once again we're confused. It's like she's always reacting late. Will she ever wake up from that eternal zombie slumber she's in? Will she ever make up her mind between Jacob and Edward? Will we be able to justify to ourselves the fact that we were rooting for the evil woman who killed young girls to steal their beauty? And why the hell would anyone need a sequel of this film?

(Very) Short Take: "Haywire", "American Reunion" and "The Vow".

Time and time again, Steven Soderbergh should be commended for being perhaps the only mainstream American director who refuses to stop experimenting with the medium. Not all of his experiments are successful but it's his willingness to keep trying that makes him such a valuable filmmaker, for example see Haywire, by hiring MMA star Gina Carano to play the lead in a movie about a female spy, instantly recalls his The Girlfriend Experience in which he hired a porn star to play an escort. To say that none of the ladies were outstanding actresses would be to say too little, but what Soderbergh achieves is to concoct a movie that feels like a documentary combined with exaggerated fiction. Sure, Carano doesn't hold a candle to the effortless way in which Michael Fassbender or Ewan McGregor move onscreen (Channing Tatum gets no such defense) but watching her fight stock actors has the urgency that matches any of their greatest performances. Other Soderbergh flourishes like stopping the score when there's a fight make for a unique experience that sadly doesn't become more than an exciting experiment.  

American Reunion is nothing more than a sad reminder that the more things change the more they stay the same. The entire gang is back (including Mena Suvari!) for their high school reunion and they have silly realizations like how "first loves are forever", "home is where the heart is" etc.

The thing that remains constant is that the film seems to gloat in the fact that these men-children refuse to grow up and celebrates them for it. The notorious Stifler (Seann William Scott) becoming nothing more than a clown who holds any inkling of a grown up life to be completely contemptible. Sure, adult life may not be all fun and games, but there is a larger problem at bay when a movie character is loved because he chooses to exist in complete denial. The movie therefore is never funny or touching - in the way the original was - instead it becomes somewhat of a horror film that like Carrie reminds us that high school can seriously mess up some people.

Pretty people having love problems has become the staple of all Nicholas Sparks movie adaptations...oh wait, what? This isn't based on a Nicholas Sparks book? Could've fooled anyone. This was a much, much better movie when it was called 50 First Dates.

Grades
Haywire **½
The Vow **
American Reunion *

The Lucky One **

Read my review for The Lucky One by clicking here.

The Avengers **½

Director: Joss Whedon
Cast: Robert Downey Jr., Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth
Samuel L. Jackson, Mark Ruffalo, Scarlett Johansson, Jeremy Renner
Tom Hiddleston, Clark Gregg, Cobie Smulders
Stellan Skarsgård, Gwyneth Paltrow

The Avengers feels like a success because its very existence seems to be fulfilling a promise made to us with the advent of comic book movies: that one day we would get to see an epic popcorn flick in which all our favorite superheroes would get to have some fun together.
What once was thought to be impossible due to technology, budget and other factors, has finally become a reality and the result is disappointing because in the process, the film has become the equivalent of opening gifts as grown ups on Christmas morning: the magic has all but vanished.
The first part of the movie, consists of the "let's put on a show" plot that was much better used in last year's The Muppets, since the faces involved are all familiar (or at least they should given that this movie has no less than six prequels) all the audience is expecting to see is what they will do together.
The film however takes its time setting up the stage as we see Thor (Hemsworth) come back to Earth to stop his psychotic brother Loki (Hiddleston) from invading it. Joining the Norse god are brilliant playboy/Iron-Man (Downey Jr.), the slightly passive aggressive Bruce Banner (Ruffalo) whose Hulk is on almost permanent sleep, the thawed Captain America (Evans), the sexy agent known as Black Widow (Johansson) and ace archer Hawkeye (Renner), all led by agent extraordinaire Nick Fury (Jackson who seems to be more alive than in any movie he's made in at least a decade).
The entire film revolves around this group of heroes kicking Loki's ass and preventing imminent destruction at the hand of weird aliens who ride intergalactic mopeds and use fish like spaceships to wreak havoc on New York City (because where else do space invasions begin?).
The film often lies at a very awkward spot because its execution is often marred by the Whedonisms being repressed by the very epicness of it all. Whedon is an extraordinary director who has no trouble alternating and even normalizing the relationship between fantasy and "real life". Some of his greatest creations combine vampires, space cowboys and clones with a deep sense of longing, melancholy and geek humor.
His persona shines during some key moments in the film, mostly through, who would've guessed it, Thor and Captain America, the two towering men whose latent humanity shines through under Whedon's sensitive directing.
The Avengers thrives on its all-star ensemble but the running time (already excessive) doesn't give us enough time to delight ourselves with our favorite characters, unlike the Ocean's Eleven movies this one doesn't know how and when to use its assets best. It tries to be fair, when it should've been selfish in its purposes. As much as Downey Jr. shines as Stark, his smugness can get too grating, especially when Whedon is making Hemsworth and Evans act! 
It's a shame that the director never really knows what to do with the larger setpieces, because he has proven time and time again just how great he is at action sequences (remember the sense of Indiana Jones-like adventure he infused in the whole of Serenity?) The Avengers overflows with moments of almost-greatness that feel abrupt, as if Whedon wanted to jump but remembered he might break a bone upon landing.
The movie is unarguably efficient in its coherence, but it's almost too coherent, when it could have been playful, thrilling. Instead of inspiring us to want and turn the page to see what's next, more often than not we end up wondering if something fun will ever happen. Comic book movies are often a double edged sword because those who concentrate on the profoundness contained in the post-war plight for salvation are never really "fun" (any Batman movie under Nolan), and those that concentrate on thrills leave audiences feeling empty and self indulgent (any Spider-Man under Raimi).
Perhaps to concentrate too much on this would lead to an exploration of why comic books even matter and by the end we'd have lost all notion of the product known as The Avengers, which despite Whedon's attempts, misfires more than it succeeds and reminds us that the whole sometimes is lesser than the sum of its parts.

Short Take: "Mirror Mirror", "Safe House", "Chronicle".

If ever a movie was victim to terrible, misleading advertising, this would be definitely be it. Tarsem Singh's retelling of the Snow White story is an exuberant, breathtakingly beautiful take on an old tale, that manages to update it without the forced quality of movies like Shrek. What the movie presents us with is a revisionist tale, in which the Evil Queen (a simply delicious Julia Roberts) doesn't hate Snow White (Lily Collins) "just because" but due to her insecurity (both fiscal and personal). Even the Prince (Armie Hammer looking positively dashing) in question arrives for an unconventional reason, as the Queen sees in him the opportunity to save her kingdom from bankruptcy as well as satisfying her sexual needs.

This is probably what the movie gets so well, Snow White and the Queen aren't stereotypes but actual "women" who crave different things and aren't afraid of expressing it. Like an inverse version of Tarsem's The Cell with less creepiness obviously, the film grabs a woman's psyche and expresses it through the lavish set design and costumes. Jennifer Lopez's character in The Cell was trying to hide and escape from the mind of a killer, the women here want their psyches to expand into the real world. What we get then is a battle between women trying to find their places in a world that suggests only one of them is fit to inhabit it. Whether they became enemies because of taxes, beauty or men, the honest truth is that they are all factors uncontrollable by them and demanded by society. Who knew you could gather such a rich post-feminist message from a children's movie?

Safe House is the kind of movie where the main characters spend 80% of the movie as moving targets for gangsters, CIA agents and honest but expendable police men, while barely missing bullets, yet they get shot at the last minute just in time to have an epiphany.
As usual Denzel Washington plays the "mentor" to a less experienced movie star who crosses his character's path. In this case Ryan Reynolds plays the goody-two-shoes' safe house guard who ends up trying to catch a suave criminal he was supposed to look after. We are never asked to really understand the characters' motivations, other than the fact that they are who they are and the action should keep us entertained without thinking. The problem is that Denzel has been playing the same character for more than a decade and this movie feels like it's the continuation of whatever train/plane/evil cop/martyred bodyguard movie he released last year. Reynolds holds no candle to Denzel's charm but he and we deserve much better than this by the numbers thriller.

The been-there-done-that feel of "found footage" films almost seemed to  have been refreshed at the start of Chronicle. Unlike most movies of its type where we spend the whole time wondering why the hell won't they drop the camera when they're being followed by ghosts, Blair witches or monsters, this one actually grabs the concept selfconsciously as characters question why is nerdy, unpopular Andrew (Dane DeHaan) carrying a video camera everywhere. This becomes obvious when we run into the film's major plot twist, after an encounter with a strange crystal he and two other teenagers gain telekinetic powers. The most delightful part of the movie has the young men try out their new powers in ways teenagers would, by pulling pranks on people or using them to hit on girls. For a while the movie feels like an FX-laden version of Jackass until the filmmakers found the need to be moralizing and show us that unrestrained power can bring disaster (something that, thank you very much, no other superhero movie has done as perfectly as Spider-Man). The movie then reveals its true colors and how in its search to be original, it just ended up turning "found footage" into an even more offensive gimmick. By the time we have two crazed teenagers destroying the city of Seattle and still not dropping the freaking camera, all you want is for the Blair with to come and be done with them.

Grades:
Mirror Mirror ***
Safe House *
Chronicle *

The Lorax **

Director: Kyle Balda, Chris Renaud

The movies do no justice to Dr. Seuss
They always tend to overproduce

When adapting the doctor's works onscreen
Their way to go is big, loud...not clean.

The Lorax is of course no exception
Remove the magic, add unnecessary tension

What once was a tale of forests and preservation
Has now become a gaudy demonstration

The voicework is astounding, the movie unworthy
The characters are charming, yet dull the story

Not even the gorgeous animation
Commands the grown up audience's attention

Children will undoubtedly be entertained
Grown ups will leave the movie feeling drained

Seuss' wisdom was meant for all ages
Let us not forget the timelessness of his pages

But Hollywood has yet to learn its lesson
That "less is more" regardless of the person

Short Take: "John Carter" and "Wrath of the Titans".

If you thought Clash of the Titans was forgettable, Wrath of the Titans seems to have been made exclusively to steals its title as most forgettable movie ever. This time around Zeus (Liam Neeson) recruits his stubborn son Perseus (Sam Worthington) to save the world from his evil half-brother Ares (Edgar Ramírez) who has formed an alliance with Hades (Ralph Fiennes) to kill the gods and unleash Cronos from his underworld prison. As is the norm with movies featuring villains that want to destroy the planet, nobody ever really specifies where the villains would move to after the apocalypse, but who cares because you know Perseus will indeed save the day.

The problem with Sam Worthington embodying a world savior isn't really that he's extremely flat (which he undeniably is despite the 3D effects) but that he makes everyone around him become just as bland. Watch him literally suck the life out of Rosamund Pike, who tries as she may, fails to to make her warrior queen Andromeda remotely interesting. Worthington only comes off better when he's next to the obnoxious Toby Kebbell who plays Agenor, son of Neptune. 

Watching the way in which director Jonathan Liebesman cheapens the concept of Greek mythology, you can't help but wander in your head and wonder why has Hollywood made such a hard effort to uglify everything? When compared to the way movies were made in the past, in which legendary actors played supporting roles (everyone from Brando to Olivier) and Greeks were always spotless, you have to wonder if the filmmakers behind this really think that watching Perseus dirty will make any difference and invite us to identify with him.

Everyone in this movie is either dirty or looks smelly, which not only fails to humanize their adventure, it's also preposterous to be watching in 3D. The visual effects in this movie are also so unimaginative that you wish they would've just stuck to voiceovers to describe what was going on. Lucky for you, by the time the film is over you probably will have already forgotten you saw it, which might be the only truly divine intervention that occurs here.

It seems that unless your name is James Cameron, you should be forbidden from trying to emulate the wow factor that George Lucas introduced to the space-fantasy genre with Star Wars. Why? Because most filmmakers lack the guts to go all through in their visions of new worlds and instead of imposing a brand new set of rules, they adhere strictly to previous visual references. Reason why everything in John Carter seems to have been done, and much better, in other movies.
Taylor Kitsch stars as the title hero, a US Civil War vet who accidentally gets transported to Mars where as a Messiah he helps solve various crises, including toning down the violence among a group of four-armed aliens who regard him as a sort of Spartacus figure and getting involved in a civil war between humanoids. Of course he ends up falling for a sexy princess (Lynn Collins) who makes him wonder if home is where the heart is and considering that the film's original title was John Carter of Mars you kinda know where this one's headed to.
Directed by Andrew Stanton of WALL-E and Finding Nemo fame, it's rather surprising that the film feels so lacking in imagination. Every scene is either a blatant ripoff or an "homage" to movies like Gladiator, Avatar, Star Wars etc. and there's obviously nothing wrong with showing off your ability to stylishly reference other works (Tarantino has forged an entire career out of said gimmick) the problem is when you're excessively reverential or, eek, just plain dull.
Despite a superb star turn by Kitsch, who seriously does more than show off his impeccable body by giving Carter a soulful desperado vibe, the movie comes off as taking itself too seriously. By the time the characters are done talking about Martian myths, social issues and backstabbing, you have pretty much lost all interest in the fact that the movie promised you Indiana Jones like treats.
You can practically see Stanton's sweat drop down his forehead as he composed every frame carefully trying to show off his skills as a visual artist, yet the creatures, costumes and design in the movie feel lacking. The color palettes are arid and fail to arrest your senses. Watching John Carter feels like traversing a desert, which ought to mean big business for theater concessionary stands but just makes the audience wish they'd just get to the oasis and be done with it.

Grades
Wrath of the Titans *
John Carter **