Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time *

Director: Mike Newell
Cast: Jake Gyllenhaal, Gemma Arterton
Ben Kingsley, Alfred Molina, Toby Kebbell, Reece Ritchie
Richard Coyle, Steve Toussaint

At first glance Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time is yet another shallow video game adaptation meant to entertain youngsters with its giant set pieces, special effects and numbing loudness; but look closer and you will find a distasteful "oh well" approach to American foreign policy and media brainwashing.
Set in ancient Persia, it centers on Dastan (Gyllenhaal) an orphan of humble origins adopted by the king (Ronald Pickup) and raised like a prince.
As the movie begins, Dastan and his brothers (Kebbell and Coyle) prepare to invade the scared city of Alamut on the grounds that they have been manufacturing weapons for Persia's enemies.
Not long after they have invaded the city, Dastan figures out it was all a trick devised by the story's actual villain (quite easy to discover considering the makeup artists all but put a "villain" sign on his face). He also discovers the actual reason for the invasion was to find an ancient dagger that has the power of turning back time; but before he can become a hero, he's been framed for murder, becomes a fugitive and finds himself traveling with Princess Tamina of Alamut (Arterton) to reclaim his rightful place.
The problem with the movie isn't how miscast it is (Gyllenhaal has absolutely no hero potential despite the bigger muscles) or how badly it uses its good actors (Arterton could've been iconic and Molina just remind us that a brilliant actor can make almost anything seem better than it is). The problem isn't the action sequences either, although their Aladdin with ADD aesthetics continue to highlight the same brand of flashy, quick editing Jerry Bruckheimer's productions have become known for, which shows even less than it says.
The biggest problem with the film is how it uses all these elements to thinly disguise it's "let's move on" views on the Iraq invasion.
At first, the story seems to be taking a critical aim at how the Bush government (and its allies) handled a situation that quickly got out of their hands. We are presented with facts that almost entirely resemble the search for weapons of mass destruction led by the American army on Iraqi soil and how a few government people quickly created an entire war as diversion from their real aim (the dagger in the movie, oil in real life).
It's not even necessary to mention nepotism and the similarities between powerful political families and royalty to see how much the main plot drew from history.
But once the central dagger comes up, viewers are provided with the sort of device that could work in two ways.
Its ability to go back in time enables the audience to fantasize about a world where things can be undone and evil is quickly fixed. In a way this could provide some sort of escapism from the already brutal reality raging outside the theater.
But why then, introduce this element of correction into an allegory that had such recent effects? If it doesn't want to deal with reality why then remind us of it?
It's only then when the movie's real intention seems to come out and by suggesting mystical artifacts can fix our wrongs it's empowering the video game generation to think of technology as their own way of escaping reality and consciously grant themselves absolution.
What's the difference between the dagger and digital video recording or personalized online content? In the same way that Prince Dastan can simply rewind and fix the past, we now have the power to control the information we get and simply fast forward through the news or ignore a disturbing article and conceal the world from our already limited perception.
Prince of Persia isn't about entertaining as much as it's about creating a false idea of our involvement in the world.
The only magical thing about this movie is that very few seem to notice it's essentially propaganda.

Adaptation?

A few weeks ago the amazing Meryl Streep served as speaker for the Barnard College graduation ceremony.
As usual being her charming, delightful self, she reveals some of her trade secrets and trying to inspire recent graduates comes up with a lovely melancholic look at her own place in life.

Addressing several subjects, without flaunting her intelligence, she eventually hit the spot in one of my eternal causes: the lack of respect for actresses and female characters in our male centric world.

Speaking of how young men nowadays have no fear in identifying themselves with her Miranda Priestly, Streep went on to say,

"This is a huge deal because as people in the movie business know the absolute hardest thing in the whole world is to persuade a straight male audience to identify with a woman protagonist, to feel themselves embodied by her.
This more than any other factor explains why we get the movies we get."

Could she be any more right? But she had much more to say about this!
If you have half an hour to spare, I recommend you see the whole speech, just click here.

And the CFDA Goes To...

The stars came out for the CFDA awards honoring the best in fashion.
Here are my faves of the night.


Sarah Jessica Parker was breathtaking in a bold Alexander McQueen with a stunning flower print.
The fashion icon presented a special tribute to the late great and complimented her gown with gorgeous Stephen Russell jewelry.


Gwyneth Paltrow was dark chic in a glittery Michael Kors (in the picture with the Oscar winning actress).
Seeing her in something other than a mini is quite refreshing, especially when it's this beautiful.


Also, when choosing between bad boys of fashion, how can anyone in their right mind prefer Tom Ford to Marc Jacobs (pictured)?
The Louis Vuitton genius won the award for menswear and looked every bit as ravishingly cool to collect his trophy.

Just Because.

Crush(es) of the Week.

The Girlie boys.

The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets' Nest ***

Director: Daniel Alfredson
Cast: Noomi Rapace, Michael Nyqvist
Lena Endre, Annika Hallin, Sofia Ledarp, Jacob Ericksson
Anders Ahlbom, Aksel Morisse, Micke Spreitz

When Stieg Larsson died leaving behind the manuscripts for what later became the Millennium novels, he inadvertently created a trilogy that thrives and suffers from the qualities it inherited.
This being the last film adaptation can't help but feel awkward because as a movie it has to have a sense of closure but as a story it has so much more to say.
Therefore The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets' Nest works specifically as the conclusion of the case that first got Lisbeth Salander (Rapace) and Mikael Blomkvist (Nyqvist) together.
In this chapter, Blomkvist must fight the system to prevent Lisbeth from being committed into a psychiatric hospital for the rest of her life.
If the main plot feels completely linear and slightly predictable (Alfredson uses the same directorial techniques he recurred to in the previous installment) this one is more effective because of the larger context in which the events take place, particularly in its vision of Sweden.
What we encounter in this trilogy is a conflicting portrait of a country known the world over for its peacefulness.
So what can we make of an action series that deals with deep corruption, decadence and a complete lack of empathy between young and older generations?
Is this dark vision of Sweden a fabrication of its author or an insider's look at a carefully concealed reality? To try and chose between these options would be to discredit fiction or disbelieve contemporary history; yet the point is that the film's mood evokes this ambiguity and gets us making questions.
Perhaps trying to spice up the humdrum nature of most common careers or maybe Larsson was really on to something...
What can't be denied is that throughout the trilogy, there's a battle between history and the future; Lisbeth's story, if anything else, is made of a conflict between her hatred for her past and her need to avenge it to obtain a future.
In a way, this film is also a fascinating commentary on the way European politics have had a hard time breaking away from traditionalist views. One of the main subplots deals with the discovery of a secret government unit exerting great power even after its official extinction.
The way in which the troubled heroine must face these dying monsters, willing to give up their revered position makes for some compelling drama.
"Reminds me of a Greek tragedy" says a character about Salander's past.
Rapace, once more, is able to reveal new layers in Lisbeth's personality. Her ability to express so much without words is remarkable, in what might be one of the highlights of her performance she delivers the most delicious smile in the most wicked situation.
That you smile along with her is testament to how much she has made the character her own. She's also particularly good in scenes with Aksel Morisse, who plays a sensitive doctor who befriends her and with Annika Hallin who plays her strong willed attorney. It's interesting to see her dynamic with Hallin because the Millennium trilogy is quite male centric, despite having a woman as main character.
This chapter also reminds us about the power of words, in Lisbeth's ability to write her story it gives her the gravitas other characters are trying to take away from her.
What can the movie be saying if it establishes that Lisbeth attains a chance at salvation only after she commits her life to paper?
Despite the fact that each cinematic installment diminished gradually in its thrills, the truth is that it's still a shame that this might be the last we hear of this character.

The Girl Who Played With Fire ***

Director: Daniel Alfredson
Caast: Noomi Rapace, Michael Nyqvist
Lena Endre, Peter Andersson, Per Oscarsson, Sofia Ledarp
Paolo Roberto, Yasmine Garbi, Georgi Staykov, Micke Spreitz
Michalis Koutsogiannakis, Hans Christian Thulin

You can't really blame Lisbeth Salander (Rapace) for hating men who hate women. In the second installment of the Millennium series not only must she face an entire police force looking for her but she also has to deal with a Jaws like henchman (Spreitz) and a terrible, haunting figure from her past.
Delivered with precise, IKEA like, workmanship by director Daniel Alfredson, the film lacks the cruel elegance of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo but still manages to be a well made, vastly entertaining thriller.
A year has passed since Mikael Blomkvist (Nyqvist) last saw Lisbeth and having returned to his post in Millennium magazine, he's dedicating his time to the unmasking of a human trafficking cartel hidden deep within some of Sweden's most prominent figures.
When one of his journalists (Thulin) is murdered, the police reveal their prime suspect is Lisbeth and a simultaneous hunt begins as Mikael, convinced of her innocence, is set on finding her before the authorities.
Perhaps out of blame on the sophomore slump (or the middle syndrome in a trilogy), this chapter feels too much like a transition to have more resonance. Despite of the life altering revelations made about some of the characters, the lack of nuance between the central mystery and the characters' lives feels lacking (perhaps the previous film spoiled us too much?).
Alfredson's directing style is much more straightforward than Niels Arden Oplev's; while Oplev had a respect for the film's literary origins, he still imprinted highly cinematic qualities upon it that Alfredson disregards in favor of a more blunt approach (this movie feels more like a great TV pilot).
Yet whatever the film lacks in stylistic wonders it more than makes up for with the growth of characters that were already fascinating to begin with.
This time around with Mikael being more at the office we begin to get glimpses of what has made him a loner; his sexual/professional relationship with Erika (the enigmatic Endre) begins to paint a larger portrait of a man with a past more bruised than he'd make us believe.
Nyqvist is again, terrific as Mikael, playing him with a confidence that makes him more than, book author, Stieg Larsson's alter ego.
His line delivery is spot on, when he arrogantly reminds a police officer that he's a "private snoop and understands no jack shit" there's a quality of delicious self indulgence that makes his actually insane choices seem inspired.
Rapace as well is able to make Lisbeth evolve from the introverted creature she was in the first chapter, into a scarily determined woman with revenge on her mind.
She gets more physical this time around and quickly becomes an obviously iconic action heroine (think Jennifer Garner's Sydney Bristow meets Matt Damon's Jason Bourne), because Rapace is not afraid to dig deep into the darkness that devours Lisbeth, each of her actions involves a mystery upon itself.
If to this you add the melancholic mood that prevails in the darkly romantic relationship between Lisbeth and Mikael, you have the makings of an even more complex dynamic.
If The Girl Who Played With Fire is a tonal downgrade from the first installment it can't help but fill us with a sense of eventual satisfaction and expectancy, for we still don't know how Lisbeth got that dragon tattoo.

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo ***1/2

Director: Niels Arden Oplev
Cast: Noomi Rapace, Michael Nyqvist,
Sven-Bertil Taube, Peter Haber, Marika Lagercrant
Lena Endre, Björn Granat, Peter Andersson

A lesson in how to make a thriller, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo is the first entry in the film versions of the late Stieg Larsson's Millennium novels.
Remaining faithful to its paperback spirit, it relentlessly tries to turn each scene into the equivalent of an addictive page turner; therefore, it has a familiar structure, accumulating cliffhangers and a climax that makes sure you end up craving more.
Its twisty, noir inspired, plot finds its inspiration in the likeliest of sources: the teaming of the odd couple.
In this case it's Mikael Blomkvist (Nyqvist) and Lisbeth Salander (Rapace). Blomkvist is a disgraced financial journalist who has just been sentenced to three months in jail after a scandalous libel suit involving a prominent industrialist (Stefan Sauk).
Salander is an introverted, goth, twenty something who specializes in hacking computers, hi-tech investigation and beating the crap out of people who abuse her (including her legal guardian played with disgusting sexual hunger by the sinister Andersson).
When Blomkvist is hired by octogenarian millionaire Henrik Vanger (Taube) to investigate the mysterious disappearance of his niece Harriet, more than forty years before, he acquires an essential ally in Lisbeth.
How they meet is both part of the film's tendency to pull aces out of its sleeve and also one of its most fascinating propositions; for it wonders how much fate and determination have to do with this particular genre.
In the way the two main characters seem to reach out to each other, we are left trying to make sense about the way we influence our own perception.
Choices therefore are an essential part of the plot, "we choose who we are" exclaims Lisbeth as Mikael tries to understand her actions.
Yet this seemingly simple statement captures the major theme explored in the movie which is the primal human need to find itself by revisiting its history.
Instead of running away from things that have hurt them Mikael and Lisbeth appear to be drawn to the perpetuation of painful patterns.
Mikael hesitates for merely a second when asked by Vanger to take on a potentially dangerous case; is it his need to satiate his journalistic hunger with a good story or is he still unaware that his work can directly affect his life?
Lisbeth too is pulled by the force of Harriet's disappearance despite the eventual realization that she might be running into some of her own life experiences in the hellish process.
Is the author trying to give them catharsis by all means or does this path reek of masochism? If so can catharsis be related to masochism?
What results so compelling about the movie is that the central mystery they're trying to solve is half as intriguing as the mystery of who Mikael and Lisbeth are.
And considering that Harriet's disappearance is connected to Nazis, rape revenge, dark family traditions, corruption and fake evidence, you can imagine just how mysterious the people investigating it must be.
The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo owes itself mostly to the power of its great actors. Nyqvist is perfect as Mikael. His strange handsomeness contributes highly to make him likable in a way you just can't understand at first.
Full of self love, determination and an overcoming passion for his job he's the ultimate middle aged man.
Rapace's Lisbeth is an enigmatic creature made more appealing by her unconventional heroine qualities. Far from being an angel, she uses her own personal experiences to seek what might be an ultimate revenge on the men who wrong her (the Swedish title of the film is Men Who Hate Women) but more than a postmodern take on the action hero, Rapace makes Lisbeth someone completely human.
Her character is a complex hybrid of female empowerment and male fantasy. On one hand she's a rebel violent woman who takes justice on her own hands and has no problem going to bed with men or women.
The way she gets sex with Mikael out of the way halfway through the running time is a darkly funny moment in which the movie affirms to us that it has no concern for maintaining sexual tension...there are more important things to deal with here.
Yet Lisbeth is also an exciting male dream; the kick-ass woman who doesn't make a big deal out of sex and fulfills every cliché adolescent male dream.
How does Lisbeth reach a compromise between female identity and male fantasy is testament to Rapace's talents.
An incredibly exciting, if not entirely original thriller (there's not an overlapping of text, music and images montage it can resist) The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo thrives in its ability to find new joys in traditional structures, with its moody cinematography, iconic star making performances and inventive direction it dares you not to feel refreshed by its familiarity.

Kick-Ass **

Director: Matthew Vaughn
Cast: Aaron Johnson, Nicolas Cage, Chloë Moretz, Mark Strong
Christopher Mintz-Plasse, Yancy Butler, Lyndsy Fonseca
Clark Duke, Evan Peters, Michael Rispoli

Based on energy alone, Kick-Ass could very well ride a wave that would cloud the fact that it's a very inconsistent, almost incoherent, movie.
Its concept is quite a simple one, as it wonders why don't superheroes exist when practically anyone can become whatever they want.
The idea is executed by average teenager Dave Lizewski (Johnson) who buys himself a wetsuit, a couple of clubs and goes out to the streets looking for people to help using the name Kick-Ass.
"I always wondered why no one did it before me" he asks after he accidentally becomes an internet phenomenon and the threat of paranoid mob king Frank D'Amico (Strong, who's become the new go-to-guy for over the top villains) whose plans have been botched by a masked vigilante.
D'Amico ignores the fact that there are more heroes than Kick-Ass (giving the plot one of its first inconsistencies along with the constant disappearance of Dave's eyeglasses...) and one of them has a personal vendetta against him.
It's none other than Big Daddy (Cage) a once honored cop who fell victim to the mobster's allies and is now plotting a huge revenge against him, with his twelve year old daughter who calls herself Hit-Girl (Moretz).
Soon the heroes' storylines will cross as they face the evil D'Amico and the movie tries to be all of the following: a quirky indie like superhero movie, a Tarantino ripoff, an accurate social commentary on adolescents and the media, an old fashioned revenge story, a coming of age drama, a genre satire and a comedy of manners.
With all the different stylistic currents going through the movie, the real heroic feat is how director Vaughn manages to make something out of it and especially for that something to be vastly entertaining.
Much is owed to the superb cast who make the most out of the poor character development they're given.
Cage is at his idiosyncratic best (how he can be so good and then so terrible is a mystery) while Strong fills his role with morbid delight.
Yet the movie belongs to the young; Johnson, who technically has to carry the entire movie on his shoulders creates a charming hybrid of a Michael Cera performance with Daniel Radcliffe's unwilling blooming sexuality.
And the stunning Moretz, who also becomes the film's most controversial character, takes over the screen in such a way that you won't believe how young she actually is.
Her ability to be a complete bad-ass, yet preserve sweet, innocent traits is a remarkable work.
Too bad that it's especially with Hit-Girl that Vaughn reveals that he didn't really know how to handle the material.
For all the Tarantino-esque hyper-violence of the movie, there's also its pervading need to be as real as possible.
So in this tonal oxymoron, the film hits a contradiction that makes it impossible to take "serious" as a fantasy or as a fantastical take on reality.
Kick-Ass should've taken a cue from one of the basic paradigms of comic superheroes that make us wonder where will the villains who want to destroy the world move to.
This idea in comic books isn't usually taken seriously because we all know the hero will arrive in time to save the day, making the ultimate evil plan a complete implausibility.
But what can we make of a movie that constantly reminds us of the hero's ordinariness? If Dave's Kick-Ass isn't an actual superhero, what makes it alright to watch a little girl shooting gangsters?
The film tries to inhabit parallel universes: one where the comic book fantasy rules and even the youngest kids can be what they want and another completely different place where these very kids might want to be villains instead and pack guns in their lunchboxes to shoot their classmates.
Sometimes it's our world, sometimes it's superhero land...isn't this impossibility to differentiate between fantasy and reality what actually triggered several school massacres during the last decade?
Kick-Ass might be enjoyable but it gets wrong what a great superhero movie got very right: it has no consciousness of the responsibilities that come with power.

All the Symbols in "All the Lovers".

The video for Kylie Minogue's anthemic All the Lovers has finally debuted and it might be one of the best things she's ever done.
Despite the fact that it's a too obvious reminder of her Body Language era and it overflows with the kind of cheesiness that has made her such a rare creature throughout her career, the video also features some of her most upfront commentaries about sex.

Unlike Lady Gaga who brings up her muffin, and her alleged penis, whenever she can and Madonna who (...do I really need to give an example?) Ms. Minogue has always been more romantic about the notions of sex.

At first glance the video might not seem overtly sexual (yes, it's a massive orgy but everyone looks so in love!) but through her use of symbols she's telling us a Calvin Klein ad version of Eyes Wide Shut filtered through Greek mythology.

The video begins with a falling cup of coffee, followed seconds later by a bottle of milk crashing against the pavement.



With this simple image begins a tale of frustration overcome by the power of love and understanding; for what can this spilling of milk mean if not an overtly anxious, male, sexual desire arriving before time?

The falling objects are followed by images of people taking their clothes off, surrendering to their most urgent affective needs and beginning an orgy of sorts in the middle of the street.
Those who aren't making out are pulled by a force that turns out to be none other than Ms. Minogue herself.



It hurts, when you get to close oh baby it hurts, when love is really good you just want more. Even if it throws you to the fire.



Like Aphrodite rising from the foam, she appears in a growing mountain of lovers who then divide the video into two storylines.
One devoted to the goddess' power of granting love and the other, that follows the song's lyrics, and tells the story of the unsatisfied lover trying to regain his status into Aphrodite's chamber.



What he doesn't seem to know though, is that the goddess has forgiven all in advance and his adventure is only meant to help him achieve the role of an adventurer and fulfill his mythical status.
A random shot of a screaming stranger (pictured above) gives us the only glimpse of anger in the entire video and might serve as a perfect way to exemplify the invisible hero's willingness to battle his way up to masculinity.

Kylie reminds him that this doesn't matter and sings the chorus,
All the lovers that have gone before, they don't compare to you. Don't be frightened just give me a little bit more. They don't compare, all the lovers...

Of course while the hero fights his way towards Olympus, Aphrodite has to keep herself busy.
So she creates a massive orgy, spreading love from where we can assume there was nothing before.



Using her magical hand to induce strangers into a complete state of ecstasy (and yet another more earthly symbol of the power of self stimulation) she starts piling up on the beautiful people under her.



Before anyone decides to make a big deal out of the fact that nobody in the video is what we could call "average looking", two things must be said in her defense.
First, our society has made us used to expect nothing more than tough standards of beauty to be represented in the media and the use of a multicultural United Colors of Benetton casting here simply fulfills that role.
Second, the use of extremely beautiful people also represents the idea of perfect aesthetics established by Greek culture.
For all we know, the tableaux presented to us by director Joseph Kahn could be modern interpretations of ancient paintings and sculptures.



Can't you see that this is getting higher, higher, higher?

The video also presents us with the fascinating visual motive of elevation.
All throughout we see birds and balloons fly up towards the sky, not to mention the growing mountain of lovers that forms around Kylie.
It's certainly no coincidence that we're first presented with objects falling to the floor and during the course of the song, they seem to achieve new life as they reach for the heavens.
More than a facile metaphor for male erections (which we all know are as essential in music videos as pretty people) they also continue telling the story of the shamed lover's realization that second opportunities exist.
But first he has to earn them.



Therefore as the song nears its bridge, Kylie is swallowed by the mountain.
The goddess descends to the underworld.



Dance it's all I wanna do so won't you dance?
I'm standing here with you why won't you move?





Even if it throws you to the fire...



As the bridge concludes, the cue is set for the hero to make his grand appearance.
And he does, in the shape of a majestic white horse.
We're in the presence of a symbol that has fascinated cultures for as long as time has existed.
The white horse has always been a mysterious creature, not only because of its color (which is quite rare genetically) but because of the qualities it's attributed with.

The white horse often represented the Greek god Poseidon (especially in the shape of Pegasus who sprung from the waves. Remember that Aphrodite was created from sea foam...) and were also associated with the hero's chariot and the end-of-times saviour.

But for All the Lovers its most obvious symbolism is that of the worshiped figure of fertility (where do you think all those stud and stallion jokes come from?).



Musically the horse is accompanied by one of the most rapturous instrumental bridges Kylie has ever created, making his appearance all the more glorious and enigmatic.
(Notice those three people right under the horse's mouth? I'm dying to know what their story is. They're the only menage a trois found in a video that highlights couples)



After being saved by the horse, Aphrodite rises from the underworld with even more power.



She has been able to create a structure made out of thousands of people, right in the middle of L.A. (if you're reminded of the movie Volcano I don't blame you).
In the last repetition of the chorus, the music has achieved an even more vibrant spirit. It goes from crying-on-the-dancefloor love song, to full out bliss anthem.
The volcano, and the lover's desire therefore have also been rekindled.



As she continues moving the lovers to her will, all of them having succumbed to the siren's chant, the video reaches its finale.



In the last seconds Kylie stands right in front of the camera, holding a single white dove in her hands.
The dove here has two meanings: first and foremost it represents the male lover's achievement, because for as long as language has existed, birds have been used as metaphors of the penis.



In the goddess' look we know that her lover has fulfilled his role and under the more widespread symbolism of the single white dove, they both have found peace.

To watch the video go here.