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?

The Hunger Games ***½

Director: Gary Ross
Cast: Jennifer Lawrence, Josh Hutcherson, Liam Hemsworth
Woody Harrelson, Elizabeth Banks, Willow Shields, Wes Bentley
Paula Malcomson, Toby Jones, Lenny Kravitz, Donald Sutherland
Stanley Tucci, Amandla Stenberg, Alexander Ludwig, Jack Quaid

One of the most disturbing realizations upon watching The Hunger Games is that the post-apocalyptic story revolves around a reality television show; meaning that yes, reality television programs are the entertainment equivalent of cockroaches and might survive much nobler art forms after the end of times. The show in this case is a twisted version of the Olympics titled "The Hunger Games", held every year by members of the Capitol to remember their violent history. During the games, twenty four men and women - between the ages of 12 to 18 - represent their districts and battle each other to death, until only one victor remains.
The movie concentrates on the 74th edition of the games and mainly follows Katniss Everdeen (Lawrence) the female tribute from the impoverished District 12. Katniss is an expert hunter who has been providing for her family since the death of her father in a mining accident (event which we see exclusively through dialogue-free flashbacks), it's her deep love for her little sister Prim (Shields) that drives her to offer herself as volunteer after Prim is chosen.
Katniss, along with male tribute Peeta (Hutcherson) and their mentor Haymitch (Harrelson), travel to the Capitol guided by the extravagant Effie Trinket (Banks), where they experience for the first time the riches and luxuries they would've never dreamt of having in their districts. But this land is no Oz and serves them merely as the lavish waiting room where they await their eventual participation in the games.
Eventually they are thrown onto a field populated with deathly traps, genetically engineered critters and more terrifying: other human beings whose only purpose is to survive.
Whatever the movie needs to say about the sad reality of entertainment in our times, in which suffering and schadenfreude seem to be the one thing audiences need to be happy, isn't as disturbing as the way in which it's told.
The Hunger Games, based on the popular book by Suzanne Collins, seems to be a critique of dumbed down entertainment but going beyond the genre limitations, it actually forces us to look beyond what we think of as "entertainment".
More than addressing the ridiculousness of reality television, which if nothing else is a disturbingly precise metaphor for "efficient capitalism" (minimum effort maximizing profit), we also come to terms with how journalism has become a sort of Roman sport in its own way.
Watching the film you are more reminded of CNN than you are of Survivor, especially when it's suggested that the games are broadcast twenty four hours a day. The film doesn't try to get to the source of this blood thirst, instead it focuses on one of the stars.
As played by Lawrence, Katniss is a young woman who knows what she wants and how to get it. The hunger in her eyes goes beyond putting a piece of bread in her mouth, it speaks of revenge, hatred and manipulation. Katniss isn't completely likable and that's what makes her so fascinating to watch.
Few actresses are able to empty themselves completely in the effortless way Lawrence does. It seems to take her absolutely nothing to "play" someone. In the movie, Katniss is forced to pretend she has a crush on Peeta, if only to get sponsors who might help her win.
Watching the way in which the lovestruck young man looks at Katniss, we aren't only convinced that she is playing the part to perfection, we also begin to question the nature of emotions. Several movies fail because they think of love as something pure and divine, The Hunger Games succeeds because it understands that love after all might be nothing more than a human creation.
Directed with utmost precision by Gary Ross, the film takes on the harsh task of transforming a novel told in the first person, into a movie that deals with the machinations of a larger social scheme. Ross understands that even this kind of brutality must be entertaining and crafts a movie that feels profound without dangling on extreme snobbery. The film becomes especially effective when we realize it's a direct representation of the story being told.
Novels tell us, movies show us and The Hunger Games then quite literally becomes "The Hunger Games", as we watch actors pretend to be young people who kill each other. Unlike the gamemakers in his movie, Ross is a merciful director and he spares us the need to watch extreme violence. He also denies us the pleasure of getting to know the characters better, which could come off as cold hearted but in all honesty, when's the last time you "knew" the Olympic games competitors? This lack of intimacy makes the film feel even more realistic, its points the more prescient and appropriate. It doesn't avoid the moral dilemmas, it simply establishes that it would never be able to solve them. Does your favorite Olympic sporting event change when one of the teams or competitors comes from a poor country? Perhaps in the future our desire to entertain ourselves will be directly connected to our selfish sense of survival. The movie reminds us that even then, once it's over, we can simply look away from the screen and move on with our lives.

The Rite *

Director: Mikael Håfström

Cast: Anthony Hopkins, Colin O'Donoghue

Marta Gastini, Ciarán Hinds, Alice Braga, Toby Jones

Chris Marquette, Rutger Hauer

In a world that, now more than ever, steers away from the path of religion, it's curious to see how Hollywood has remained utterly fascinated with the rite of exorcism. The Catholic "procedure" of extracting Satan out of a possessed victim has spawned film classics (and their preposterous sequels) and urban legends among other things.

Considering that only 23.9% of the American population is Catholic, we could say that exorcism fascinates the remaining percentage so much because it's not really threatening to their faith.

Then, if only Catholics can be possessed by the devil, why do people still want to see movies about them? Why not do more serial killer or evil alien movies?

True, Catholicism is still one of the most popular religions on the planet (with over a billion believers spread over more than 150 countries) but perhaps what still drives people to movies about exorcism is how they've become sensationalist metaphors for, well, fighting their own demons.

The Rite is the latest installment in the "exorcism as coming-of-age" school and continues the tradition of imposing Oedipal theories in a religion that's already known for its worshiping of the father figure.

In this case, undertaker Michael Kovak (O'Donoghue) decides to escape from his father (Hauer) by enrolling in a seminary school and leaving before being ordained. When the time comes he's persuaded by his mentor (Jones) to give priesthood a try by going to Rome and becoming an exorcist. Said persuasion is mostly blackmail but we understand how anyone would want to stay away from a house filled with dead bodies and Rutger Hauer...

Michael leaves to Rome where he continues his skeptical attitude about faith until he meets Father Lucas (Hopkins), an Irish hermit, part Hannibal Lecter part Saint Francis of Assisi, who specializes in extracting demons from people, whether by tricks or "actual" exorcism.

Most of the movie centers on the case of Rosaria (Gastini) a pregnant Italian teenager who vomits bloody nails and speaks in foreign languages. While Michael suggests a shrink, Lucas sprinkles the child with holy water and reads Bible passages.

Their opposing points of view are then tested when the movie takes a twist so obvious you can't help but roll your eyes. Suddenly Michael finds the perfect opportunity to use his recent experiences, to, wait for this...exorcise his own demons.

Suddenly the movie is no longer about devils, nails and creepy cats but about Michael finally getting rid of his issues with his father basically by replacing him with another father figure.

The movie could've explored the psychological implications this strategy has had to help religious fanatics shy away from their problems by exchanging figures from their own lives for omnipotent symbols they don't need to deal with on a human level.

And The Rite doesn't even work as a scary movie either; other than the "sudden scare", the film lacks conviction in the terrifying traits of its screenplay. What should've been atmospheric is blasphemously cheap, what should've been creepy results crappy.

Hopkins adds unnecessary gravitas to roles that from now on should be called "Oscar winners hamming up their acting chops to regain notoriety" and O'Donoghue, while pretty, lacks presence as the protagonist.

The Rite as a whole is a movie that's more confused about its own beliefs than its own characters. Does it want to be scary? Prescient? Campy? An acting showcase? A biopic? A criticism to Catholicism? A praise of Catholic faith?

Whatever the answer is, the film truly lacks spirit.

Creation **

Director: Jon Amiel
Cast: Paul Bettany, Jennifer Connelly
Jeremy Northam, Toby Jones, Martha West, Benedict Cumberbatch

"Creation" opens with the promise of telling us how "the biggest single idea in the history of thought" came to occur.
Said idea is none other than Charles Darwin's publication of "On the Origin of Species" but the film is very far from fulfilling its intellectual promise. What we get instead is a by-the-numbers production that tries to put historical figures in cinematic forms to make us empathize with them.
Here Darwin's (Bettany) genius is reduced to a simplistic battle between religion and science filtered through his feelings for two people. On the science side he has to make justice to his deceased, daughter Anne's (West) memory. Her ghost appears to him constantly and reminds him of all that he taught her about dinosaurs and natural selection.
On the other side he has his wife Emma (Connelly) a devout Christian who questions his need to quarrel with God and separate his family from society.
Where Anne's death (which is told in strange uneven fractured narration) could've been a smart propeller towards intellectual debate (Emma clings to faith while Charles sees science fail) it's turned into a cheap plot device to create tear inducing scenes and melodramatic moments.
Bettany gives a marvelous performance and convinces us of his aging by a mere change in his facial expressions. His inner struggles are much more effective than his loud conversations with Annie's ghost.
The actor is able to tap into a source of creativity that creates brilliance along with frustration. He's immensely watchable even when the screenplay forces him to concentrate more on forced ideas than authentic actions.
Connelly is equally good, perhaps because she's already played this part before (and won a heap of awards for it as well) when we see her dealing with a genius husband who talks to imaginary figures we realize this might just be an 1800's version of "A Beautiful Mind".
When Amiel should've trusted Darwin's ideas to be sufficiently original to catch our interest, he prefers to recur to visually pleasing allegories that try to digest the theories for us.
Therefore when Darwin narrates about his thoughts on sea creatures we see the actual Darwin undergoing hydrotherapy...this unimaginative angle goes as far to make us believe that he actually wrote the book out of a Graham Green-esque vendetta with God.
For a movie about someone who was so fascinated by nature, "Creation" ironically lacks a spark of life.

Frost/Nixon **

Director: Ron Howard
Cast: Frank Langella, Michael Sheen
Kevin Bacon, Toby Jones, Sam Rockwell, Oliver Platt
Matthew McFadyen, Rebecca Hall

The private lives of public figures have always been a fetish for the masses. The private lives of fallen public figures are practically bliss.
In 1977 when Richard Nixon sat down for his first interview after his resignation, as President of the United States, with, British talk show host, David Frost those who cared saw in it the chance to go behind the scenes of the most controversial President in American history as well as an opportunity to end the speculation and set the record straight, giving Nixon an informal trial.
In an appropriately postmodernist approach, screenwriter Peter Morgan wonders what went on behind the scenes of the interviews and as directed by Ron Howard the result is a vastly entertaining film that fails to become relevant despite its best intentions.
When the film begins, Frost (Sheen) is doing a variety show in Australia and upon watching how popular the last Nixon (Langella) speech was, decides that interviewing the former President will save his career from exile and get him respect as a journalist.
After paying Nixon six hundred thousand dollars and coming up with a team that includes a top television producer (McFadyen) and investigators Bob Zelnick (Platt) and James Reston Jr. (Rockwell), the interview consisting of twelve two hour long sessions takes place.
Nothing in the film is as exciting as watching Langella and Sheen face each other. Both actors deliver breathtaking work as they become the people they're playing (that one mostly knows the actual beings through television gives the film an interesting meta connotation).
Langella is commanding and gives Nixon a dignity he preserves even during moments when he has to deliver cheap, self-analytical lines.
While looking nothing like the President his performance is full of vitality and even charm, Langella makes us believe in his Nixon.
Sheen on the other side proves again what a master of subtlety he can be as he lets the veteran actor take the movie from his hands and fully supports the main performance. He makes out of Frost an ambitious, persevering man with such charisma that you always know he's holding the aces.
Altogether the ensemble does terrific job, Bacon, as Nixon's chief of staff Jack Brennan, gives a moving portrayal of loyalty until the end, while Rockwell's manic energy actually helps make his Reston Jr. come off looking more serious than a conspiracy theorist.
Howard's direction has rarely been this efficient as he creates real tension in events with widely known outcomes. His detailed reconstruction of the interviews and the era is remarkable; he reccurs to aesthetic techniques of the 70's and fashions the film after a docudrama interviewing his own characters. All of this gives the movie a brisk, enjoyable pace that isn't able to get rid of the awkward, insecure discourse behind the people who made it.
Because deep into "Frost/Nixon" you realize that this film isn't exactly a biopic or a mere play adaptation but an actual attempt by Howard (and to some extent Morgan presumedly) to say something about our times.
And this becomes almost crystal clear during a moment when Frost accuses Nixon of invading Cambodia looking for Communists and coming up with nothing.
If you take Communists exchange them for weapons of mass destruction and Cambodia for Irak you have an obvious parallel with the Bush administration and more specifically its inhuman foreign policy.
Once Bush's administration is over hopefully the lesson that will be learned by the world is that history is nothing but a repetitive cycle, "all of this has happened before and it will happen again". And if there has ever been an administration as controversial as the current one it's Nixon's who with Vietnam, Watergate and his subsequent pardon by President Gerald Ford left an entire generation thirsty for justice.
In this way, the plot isn't only premonitory of what will ultimately happen to Bush who like Nixon "devalued the presidency" and "left the country who elected him in trauma" but also fails in justifying its existence.
The questions made by Frost are time appropriate, but the answers become underwhelming as they bring us back to the historical context of the film (there is no other way a reenactment could've gone obviously).
You have to add to this the fact that Howard's view tends to proselitism when from the very start we're made to see Frost and never Nixon as the underdog.
He manages to wash his hands a bit by making Frost a manipulator, "he knows television" says one of the characters and the film often suggests he had dubious qualifications for the job despite his eventual success.
One also has to remember that in a way Frost very well embodies the kind of journalism which we're stuck with nowadays, where attractive, charming people are the ones digesting the news for the audience and delivering them in easy to digest forms.
If the interviews were meant to take place today it's sad to think that someone like Frost would've probably been the only option.
But we never know if Frost is fighting for his credibility, getting back at his critics or if he's actually after the truth.
Not that it matters much because in a way Frost is like the movie itself with the filmmakers using it to make questions they don't know how else to address in the very same way that researchers in the film use the journalist to ventilate their own, more complex inquiries.
But what happens when the film, like Frost can only deliver what they are trained to do? Which is basically to entertain.
You throw them a Ron Howard-ism, which here comes in the shape of an unexpected call the President makes to Frost, where he all but gives away his weak points under the influence of alcohol.
Here the film which has delighted itself in throwing these two men into a cockfight reduces the final interview to an exorcism of class resentment.
Like a "Rocky"-esque match where it also suggests that Frost had the edge merely because he had good timing, "Frost/Nixon" is both its accusation and its absolution.