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 **

The Messenger **

Director: Oren Moverman
Cast: Ben Foster, Woody Harrelson, Samantha Morton
Jena Malone, Steve Buscemi, Eamonn Walker

Three months before he's done with service, Staff Sergeant Will Montgomery (Foster) suffers an eye injury that sends him back to the US. He's placed in a casualty notification team for the remainder of his time in the army with Captain Tony Stone (Harrelson) a harsh, detached man for whom delivering news of death is just another duty.
Will, with his baby face and sensitive grunts feels that Tony's inhuman delivery of news is a disservice to the family of people he knew in Iraq. Tony, who has never been in combat, despite having been in the army at least two decades longer than Will has the steely purpose of a robot and tells Will that rule number one in their job is to never make physical contact with the people they're talking to.
With little regard for subtle dilemma, the screenwriters (Moverman and Alessandro Camon) establish a ying-yang dynamic that in another genre would serve as comedic relief, but in an independent moody drama can only mean ominously forced empathy.
In that way we see as Will and Tony deliver news to all kinds of people, each vignette becoming a who's who of multiculturality and familiar background (to remind us of course that the army isn't just made up of people like the main characters).
Before long we also enter into their private lives and see Tony as a recovering alcoholic for whom sex with young women is both entertainment and a way to keep him grounded.
Will enters a troubling situation when he becomes interested in Olivia (an extraordinary Morton) a young widow he delivered the news for.
Before long the film shifts the importance from the families to the messengers by using unoriginal manipulation techniques.
In one scene Will does weights at the gym when his pager beeps him, he continues lifting with anger and sorrow. The exercise meant to represent the weight of the world on his poor Atlas' shoulders is merely a distraction from the fact that the people whose lives he will break into perhaps are the real ones who had no choice to make. Not to mention Will's eye condition which requires him to use eye drops that fall like tears down his cheeks when he's not supposed to cry or feel anything.
Entire families are destroyed by children who enroll and must go to wars they don't understand, but Moverman doesn't understand this.
His movie offers no possibilities for those for whom the very existence of the army and foreign invasions are a mystery.
Harrelson and Foster are quite good in their roles and bring their characters closer to the impartiality the director never bothers to.
Harrelson plays Tony like a time bomb even if the screenplay takes him to the oh so overused element of "he must have a big secret that wounded him and makes him act like this".
While Foster's troubles, we might believe, come from the fact that his ex girlfriend (Malone) is about to marry another guy.
The fascinating limbo that exists in the fact that soldiers can't return to their ordinary lives is lost in the film's big "the Army takes care of you like a family" discourse and what should've worked like an apolitical essay turns out only to be a buddy/road movie that has us waiting when Will and Tony will realize they're maybe alike, share a hug, a beer and move on to the next house.

Indie Kick-off.

The Spirit Awards for independent film have announced their nominees today. Thus they kick start the happiest time of the year: awards season.
Among their top nominees are:

BEST FEATURE

“(500) Days Of Summer”
“Amreeka”
“Precious”
“Sin Nombre”
“The Last Station”

BEST DIRECTOR
Ethan Coen, Joel Coen, “A Serious Man”
Lee Daniels, “Precious”
Cary Joji Fukunaga, “Sin Nombre”
James Gray, “Two Lovers”
Michael Hoffman, “The Last Station”

BEST SCREENPLAY
Alessandro Camon, Oren Moverman, “The Messenger”
Michael Hoffman, “The Last Station
Lee Toland Krieger, “The Vicious Kind”
Greg Mottola, “Adventureland”
Scott Neustadter, Michael H. Weber, “(500) Days Of Summer”

BEST FIRST SCREENPLAY
Sophie Barthes, “Cold Souls”
Scott Cooper, “Crazy Heart”
Cherien Dabis, “Amreeka”
Geoffrey Fletcher, “Precious”
Tom Ford, David Scearce, “A Single Man”

BEST FEMALE LEAD
Maria Bello, “Downloading Nancy”
Helen Mirren, “The Last Station”
Gwyneth Paltrow, “Two Lovers”
Gabourey Sidibe, “Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire”
Nisreen Faour, “Amreeka”

BEST MALE LEAD
Jeff Bridges, “Crazy Heart”
Colin Firth, “A Single Man”
Joseph Gordon-Levitt, “(500) Days Of Summer”
Souléymane Sy Savané, “Goodbye Solo”
Adam Scott, “The Vicious Kind”

BEST SUPPORTING FEMALE
Dina Korzun, “Cold Souls”
Mo’Nique, “Precious”
Samantha Morton, “The Messenger”
Natalie Press, “Fifty Dead Men Walking”
Mia Wasikowska, “That Evening Sun”

BEST SUPPORTING MALE
Jemaine Clement, “Gentleman Broncos”
Woody Harrelson, “The Messenger”
Christian McKay, “Me and Orson Welles”
Raymond McKinnon, “That Evening Sun”
Christopher Plummer, “The Last Station”

For a complete list of nominees click here.

I'm particularly thrilled about Gwyneth Paltrow and James Gray getting in for "Two Lovers", I was sure it would be one of those movies everyone forgets existed come awards season.
No Joaquin Phoenix? That's got to be a joke though...

Control ***1/2

Director: Anton Corbijn

Cast: Sam Riley, Samantha Morton

Alexandra Maria Lara, Joe Anderson, Toby Kebell, Craig Parkinson

"You are so depressing" says Annik (Lara) to Ian (Riley), before she embraces him and gives him a kiss. He just stares blankly into the distance. Affected, surprised, scared, somehow moved and indifferent towards these words. This moment could very well sum up "Control", Anton Corbijn's stunning debut feature about the life of doomed Joy Division lead singer Ian Curtis.

The film begins with a 17 year old Ian leading a normal life in Macclesfield, England where he dreams of being in a band.

He meets Debbie (Morton) who is dating his best friend Nick (Matthew McNulty) but marries Ian in a heartbeat.

Soon they come to find that the married life is not their thing and while Debbie tries to shape herself as the perfect housewife, Ian begins looking for a band to sing in, while working as a clerk at the local Employment Exchange.

He meets Bernard Summer (James Anthony Pearson), Peter Hook (Anderson) and Terry Mason (Andrew Sheridan) with whom he forms Joy Division. They get a lucky break when they appear in Tony Wilson's (Parkinson) TV show, which brags about being the first to have played "The Beatles and The Buzzcocks" and before long they have become quite famous in Europe, but somehow this fame and the troubles that come with it are more than Curtis bargained for.

With a revealtroy performance by Riley, the film almost works like a documentary. While Riley nails the singing voice, the poise and the dance, his miraculous work lies in the little moments.

Playing Curtis like a manchild, trapped between real life and what he wants life to be, Riley creates a remarkable portrait of loneliness.

"A cloud hovers over me, marks every move" he narrates and perhaps there was nobody who was as conscious of his mortality as Curtis.

Ian was alone, even when he was surrounded by people. Riley somehow gives a perfect performance about a very imperfect person. While Curtis seemed to doubt every decision he took, Riley bravely dives and evokes this mood.

Morton is terrific because instead of playing Debbie like one of those suffering biopic wives, she creates a woman who was in love with an ideal. The pain inside her doesn't come whenever Curtis does her wrong, but in more of a "Madame Bovary" realization that this can actually happen to her.

Parkinson plays a splendid Wilson and Anderson is magnificent infusing the film with a droll sense of humor which it often needs.

Not your typical film about the weight of fame, "Control" is never condescending towards its lead character, since Ian often comes out looking like a real bastard.

He neglects his pregnant wife when he falls for Annik and has no problem confessing his infidelity and later asking for a second opportunity.

But what makes this film such a remarkable portrait isn't its raw depiction of Curtis, but also its selfconsciousness about its limitations.

Corbijn never tries to suggest he knew what was going on inside Curtis' head, instead he lets the events and Joy Division's music speak for themselves.

With the aid of cinematographer Martin Ruhe, the director makes something stunning out of this film. Every frame seems like a lost piece of rock history in a way "Control" is like a musical biopic imagined by Michelangelo Antonioni.

There is not a single image that isn't important and the elements fit into it creating a sort of melodical feel, which is why the result is reminiscent of one of the band's songs: extremely controlled on the surface, but hiding an emotional truth so dark, that it can't be contained.

The restrained pain within the movie has a musical effect on us: we only think we all are listening to the same thing.

Elizabeth: The Golden Age **

Director: Shekhar Kapur
Cast:
Cate Blanchett
Clive Owen
Geoffrey Rush Abbie Cornish Samantha Morton

It is the year 1585 and Queen Elizabeth I (Blanchett) faces some of the most difficult times in her reign.
The Vatican has begun a Holy War against all impure religions and Protestant England is the biggest enemy.
Spanish King Philip II (Jordi Mollá) has begun to conspire against Elizabeth with the help of her cousin Mary Queen of Scots (a subtly dignified Morton).
She also must deal with constant pressure from her advisors about remaining unmarried.
Things begin to look better for her when explorer Walter Raleigh (Owen making his best Errol Flynn impression) arrives in the court, stirring her sense of adventure, along with her hormones.
But dutiful to her self appointed Virgin Queen title she channels all sexual desire engaging in war to defeat the Spanish armada and trying to survive in order to lead her country to its eventual Renaissance.
A film completely in love with its own beauty, this "Elizabeth" has lost the brutal beauty of its 1998 predecessor and has dedicated all of its efforts into looking voluptuosly beautiful.
The biggest example might lie in its lead star, by the time depicted in the film, the Queen was in her 50s, yet the only thing that hints at her age might be her menopausic rage and fixation on invisible wrinkles.
Historical accuracy hasn't been perhaps the best feature in Kapur's films, but while in the original one his liberties served as necessary metaphors, here they all are in service of what would make the most extravagant shot or how much soap opera worthy drama the audience can handle.
When it could've drawn interesting parallels with the Holy War and our times, the plot instead worries about how Elizabeth will react when she learns Raleigh has a thing for one of her ladies in waiting (Cornish).
When it could've explored so much about the Queen's internal drama, it chooses to show us how her ladies take care of her wigs. It seems she has one in every style and size, including a long one, complete with tresses for when she must get in armor a la Joan of Arc and inspire her troops with a "Gladiator" speech (No wonder that the young Spanish Infanta has an action figure that looks like her).
The script does a great disservice to the brilliant lead actress; Blanchett must've realized how the grandiosity of the settings and costumes, along with the campy lines, drowned the drama and literally tried to give an even bigger performance.
In some scenes, like when she condemns Mary to death, Blanchett taps into the fear and insecurity that made Elizabeth a person above all things.
But when minutes later she is screaming "I keep my bitches on my collars" you wonder when did Blanchett stop playing Elizabeth and a deranged Norma Desmond arrived to play the Queen of Hearts from "Alice in Wonderland".
A film that promised so much and delivered pure camp, probably doesn't bode well for part three "Elizabeth: The Golden Girl".