Movie Review

(On DVD, August 2006) There really isn’t much to say about this film beyond the simple facts: It’s a documentary about a bunch of American soldiers (most of them young), stationed at what was Uday Hussein’s pleasure palace. The filmmakers behind the camera spent a year with the soldiers and filmed everything: Gunner Palace is best seen as a collage of life over there, without much in term of narrative structure or documentary development. As a demonstration of what life is like for the men out there, it’s unbeatable: War, from the trenches, is about boredom footnoted by death. Garbage bags that may explode. Allies that turn into enemies overnight. Living in the ruins of excess, trying to help people who would rather throw stones at you. I suspect that Gunner Palace is so close to its subject that it’s likely to be seen as a triumph regardless of one’s political affiliations. Alas, it’s already gaining in historical stature as, two years later, the situation over there hasn’t really improved… and thousands of Americans have come back in body bags. Ultimately, reviewing the film isn’t necessary, not when they (or people much like them) are out there, and we’re over here… not understanding what they’re going through.

(On DVD, August 2006) Oh my: this is a juvenile, frat-boy glorification comedy that never hesitates to go for the cheap gag and the gross sight. And yet, I pretty much loved it from beginning to end. Good supporting characters, inspired lunacy, some shamelessness and plenty of unpretentious attitude can carry you a long way, and so Dodgeball manages to suceed despite characters you would almost certainly hate in real life. The way that “dodgeball” is formalized with rules that would never make up a real sport and then hyped up as a Vegas sport is particularly endearing. The ending does fall apart, but that’s part of the fun: This film has one of the most outrageous good-guys-win-everything finale I can recall, but look closely at the screen and you can see the winking deus ex machina. There isn’t much more to say about the film though: Instantly accessibly, instantly forgettable. But it is funny enough.

(In theaters, August 2006) The advance hype of this film was frightful, so let us correct one misconception from the start: This is not one of the greatest horror films of all times. It is, on the other hand, a very decent entry in the genre, and that’s not bad considering the adolescent dross that usually gets released in theatres as “horror” nowadays. As far as premises go, writer/director Neil Marshall knows where to go: By locking up his feuding heroines in a cave along with a bunch of monsters, he gets claustrophobia, paranoia and terror all wrapped up in a neat package. People who are afraid of the dark should stay away: once the rocks fall, the monsters emerge and old feuds are uncovered, don’t bet on anyone making it to the end credits without severe damage. Alas, if the film may work as a thriller it’s somewhat limited in other aspects. While the script designates Shauna Macdonald as the recipient of our sympathies, my own affections lay firmly with can-do Asian cutie Natalie Jackson Mendoza, dividing the impact of the inevitable face-off between the two. I also suspect that I’ll be in a minority in shaking my head at the ecosystematic unlikeliness of the monsters and how their population is completely unsustainable in this given environment. Then there’s the growing repetitiveness of the last act: monsters, girls, death, repeat. Still, while these flaws may damage my enjoyment of the film, they don’t take away from the fact that Marshall has crafted a better-than-average horror film. The Descent may be completely humourless, but it’s earnest in its intent to do anything to scare its viewers. Some jump-scares are effective and others aren’t (much like the quick-cutting works in some instances and not in others). While The Descent won’t leave any lasting chills (for that, the North-American distributors may have considered keeping the original longer ending), it’s a respectable entry in the horror genre and not one of those made-for-retarded-teens films that can be dismissed even as they’re rolling. It certainly makes me curious about Marshall’s next effort.

(In theaters, August 2006) As a good little bilingual Canadian, I’ve been waiting for this film a long, looong time: A fully-bilingual crime comedy buddy-movie featuring a Québecois and an Ontarian, solving a case about a serial murderer going after those who ruined our national sport of hockey. Scripted and shot with fully naturalistic dialogues, Bon Cop, Bad Cop was distributed in Canada in two flavours: One has French subtitles and another has English ones, but bilingual moviegoers will lap up the dialogue without looking at the bottom of the screen as the film fluently switches back and forth, playing on stereotypes and promoting national unity with plenty of action. The film does miracles with a minuscule budget, but it’s the characters and the dialogue that makes the film more than the gunfights or exploding cars. There are tons of regional references throughout the film, from one-liners referencing October 1970 to inside jokes about recent hockey history. Don’t miss Rick Mercer playing Don Cherry, a jab at George W. “Arbusto” or how a character with accents in both languages is linked to former prime minister Jean Chretien. It’s hardly a perfect film, mind you: the plot mechanics don’t make sense, the film is predictable from start to finish and the clichés fly fast and low. More annoyingly, the film definitely lacks an epilogue, loud music often drowns out the sound during the cheaply-shot action scenes and there is a lack of tone consistency as the film goes from lighthearted cop comedy to gory serial killer thriller. But the film’s central conceit is fabulous enough that audiences (especially bilingual ones) are unlikely to care even if they notice: I saw the film in a sparsely-packed theatre, and the handful of viewers was collectively out-laughing many fully-crowded audiences I’ve heard. Bon Cop, Bad Cop takes the crowd-pleasing techniques of Quebec films and applies them to a broader framework: the result is well worth watching. Uncharacteristically enough for a Canadian-branded film, this one’s a crowd-wowing winner.

(On DVD, August 2006) I didn’t expect much from this film, but it does eventually manage to pull itself together, though right before falling apart again. In a way, that’s fitting for a film that’s all about randomness, chance and the impact of seemingly small actions. The original title of the film is a wink to Chaos Theory and “The Butterfly Effect”, and so the film is a succession of mini vignettes in which characters almost meet up, are separated by chance, see their innocuous actions hurt someone else or find themselves in impossible situations that are completely incomprehensible except for the all-seeing audience. It’s very, very scattered by design, but the various interactions between the characters can be fun to watch, with occasional moments of shallow philosophy exposed. (Gilbert Romain is particularly interesting in his brief scenes as “The Destiny Man”, practically standing in for the screenwriter.) Available in North American solely due to the presence of Audrey Tautou, this film inevitably evokes memories of Amelie De Montmartre. But there’s a world of difference between those two films: Amelie (beyond obviously benefiting from a far more accomplished sense of direction) succeeds where Happenstance doesn’t in tying all threads together and imposing an overarching sense over a tapestry of details. Here, a few plot threads get tied up while the others are just left to scatter: It simply leaves a feeling of incompleteness, of selective conclusion. While the film as a whole leaves a pleasant and fuzzy feeling, it seems to forget its own objectives right before ending.

(In theaters, July 2006) Far from successfully reinventing this particular superhero franchise, Superman Returns made me realize how much I loathe the character of Superman. It’s not the goody-goody two shoe routine that gets to me as much as the character’s complete lack of self-awareness and emotional maturity. He’s either a well-meaning twelve year old or a retarded thirty-year old: not, in any case, someone you would feel comfortable saddling with a son and the responsibility to save the world. And yet the film skirts all around this issue, going so far as to give Superman a number of creepy peeping scenes and romantic moments that are fit to cause more discomfort than endearment. There’s small comfort to be found in the film’s lavish visuals or envelope-pushing effects: Once the character is found worthless, the rest of the film soon follows. Kevin Spacey is easily the most enjoyable character, but his Lex Luthor is saddled with the lamest evil plan ever deemed fit to figure in a blockbuster. The less said about Kate Bosworth’s wimpy character the better: her performance recalls not Margot Kidder, but Katie Holmes’s similarly-ineffectual performance in Batman Begins. Worse: the dumb-as-dirt script can’t effectively maintain suspension of disbelief as is flies from one bit of silliness to the next, flagrantly ignoring how people actually react and how things actually work. For the first time in a long while, I kept being thrown off the film by its casual disregard for physics, journalism or even common sense. Not that it does better in terms of pacing or originality: It’s a good thing that Superman can lift heavy objects, because all of the problems he faces in this film can be solved through that particular talent. It all adds up to a dull and vaguely insulting film, one that actually takes away from the Superman mythos more than it adds to it: By skirting closer to the edge of reality, director Brian Singer invites greater scrutiny that the film can’t sustain. Give me an op-ed page, and it will be titled “The World didn’t need this Superman, and it sure doesn’t need another.” Oh well; everyone who was waiting for this summer’s big blockbuster failure can now stop looking.

(In theaters, July 2006) Richard Linklater mystified many observers with Waking Life, but all of the prep work finally pays off in A Scanner Darkly, which uses the curiously off-putting rotoscoped animation technique to good effect in representing the inner life of heavy drug users. Things are never what they seem as even the shapes keep shifting on viewers. Yet the heaviest irony of this science-fiction film is how the SF elements are the film’s least convincing aspect. For all of Dick’s clever positioning of his themes in a triangle between paranoia, surveillance and drugs, it’s the home life of his blasted-out protagonists that is the most interesting. When the glossy SF elements are introduced, they feel like a distraction from the story’s real content. Alas, the end result is a film that dawdles a long time before getting down to business abruptly and decisively. When it ends, we’re left contemplating a fascinating premise, an intriguing atmosphere, a merciless twist but a wafer-thin plot. While I remain unconvinced by the overall appeal of the film, it’s hard to deny that it’s crammed with a number of great moments.

(In theaters, July 2006) This is not Heat, but it sure looks a lot like Collateral. The grainy digital look is back, but what looked like a justifiable cinematographic choice in Michael Mann’s previous film now looks like a self-conscious affectation. For a while, it works mostly because the script doesn’t allow you one moment’s worth of respite: Miami Vice launches almost in mid-sentence, and the first act forces you to pay attention through bad audio, cryptic dialogue and a reassuring lack of hand-holding. But that initial interest soon peaks and fades as soon as a romance is hammered in place for no good reason except for the demands of the third act. At least Colin Farrell and Jamie Foxx are tolerable as the leads: they don’t really take over the roles of Sonny and Crockett, but that’s in large part due to the fact that Miami Vice shares only a title, a premise and character names with its TV series namesake: The rest is all brand-new, and unfortunately it recalls fonder memories of the Bad Boys series more than anything else. (The shadow of Michael Bay is obvious during the gunfights: they’re not particularly coherent, but they’re very very loud.) But this being Michael Mann, even his misses are more interesting than other people’s successes. What’s more, the film is partially redeemed by its female performances: While most male viewers will focus on Gong Li’s appearances, Naomie Harris handles part of the film’s emotional appeal, while Elizabeth Rodriguez is blessed with the film’s best line of dialogue. Ultimately, the film’s sputtering rhythm only serves to build interest in the inevitable Director’s Cut DVD.

(On DVD, July 2006) The biggest problem with Hoodwinked! is obvious from the trailer: This is a low-budget CGI-animated film, with the lack of sophisticated animation this implies. While this may be off-putting after being used to the superlative work of Pixar and PDI/Dreamworks, it shouldn’t become an obstacle in order to enjoy this earned and light-hearted comedy. Yes, it’s made of kids (which only becomes intrusive when the songs run on for too long, or when some points are made too obviously), but it’s a lot of fun for adults too. Characters that should work eventually do (including the film’s single best character, a singing goat with interchangeable horns) and the initial lack of fluidity to the animation becomes charming in time. There are enough chuckles to keep anyone interested, and some of the film’s best moments pay off handsomely. It’s not completely original (the riffs off fairy tales will remind a few viewers of Shrek, while the hyperactive squirrel is immediately reminiscent of Over The Hedge‘s Hammy), but given the film’s long gestation period, it’s more a case of parallel development than anything else. Seen from a slightly wider perspective, Hoodwinked! may end up being the first of a new category of animated films made possible by the increased capacities of personal computers: Earnest, highly personal B-movies made as much to scratch a creative impulse than to produce corporate profits. Frankly, I’ll take ten Hoodwinked! over one cynical and overproduced The Polar Express.

(On DVD, July 2006) This film certainly deserves such a majestic title when you consider the beauty of its cinematography. From the very first images, we’re in for a treat: wide-screen isn’t sweeping enough to contain the mountains, the colours and the dusty rusticity of the Himalayans. The music is similarly haunting, and the film never loses an occasion to remind you of it. Alas, fans of actual plot-driven films will soon hop in expectation as the film takes its time to advance. What story emerges is a decent competition between two heroes (one of the film’s most appealing traits is that there are no villains beyond the weather and the environment), one that comes to showcase the Himalayas in their entirety. Not for hyperactive moviegoers (though Himalaya features what may be the first action scene ever to involve a yak), but still a satisfying experience. Especially if you stick it in fast-forward.

(On DVD, July 2006) The last days of the Nazi regime are a natural dramatic point of interest. As the entire German infrastructure was being destroyed and the Russians were racing east, imagine the reactions of those left in Berlin. Based on several books and contemporary account, Downfall flits about Berlin as Hitler and his advisers retreat in an underground bunker. There is a lot of material to cover, perhaps more that can comfortably fit into a single motion picture: Downfall occasionally feels halfway between a miniseries and tighter film, with a result that feels long even though it should be interesting. Those hoping for a sweeping view of Berlin will be as disappointed as those who are hoping for a story exclusively centred on Hitler’s bunker. In any case, it’s hard to fault the actors as they attempt to recreate the slightly unhinged atmosphere of the time, or the claustrophobic cinematography as the walls come closer and closer to the characters. The script is graced with polish and a good amount of period details, down to capturing the essence of many historical characters. I suspect that WW2 buffs will be fascinated by the film, while others will want to snip entire segments of the film.

(On DVD, July 2006) This may look like a one-joke film, but it’s really about more than that, from the meaning of free speech to the inner working of professional comedians. Certainly, there hasn’t been a film making more mileage out of simple words since the original Clerks. The Aristocrats has been left unrated, but there’s no doubt that it would probably earn an X on language alone. There is no nudity, no violence and in fact very little meanness here: it’s all about the power of words to shock and amuse at the same time as comedians try their best at a joke designed to transgress taboos. Dozens of interviews give a multifaceted approach to the subject as we hear (and see) as many variations as possible on the same theme. (There are even mimed and card-trick versions of the joke!) While the film cloaks itself in the comforting embrace of the first amendment, The Aristocrats is never as interesting as when it provides access in the inner working of professional comedy. The mechanics of humour are dissected with precision, with the director’s audio commentary track providing an additional viewing experience that adds an entire layer of context to the film. This is an essential film for anyone interested not simply in laughing, but in what makes anyone laugh.

(On DVD, June 2006) It takes some skill to make a boring racing film, and that’s almost what this is: Initial D feels limp and repetitive, hampered by subplots that go nowhere and a rhythm that seldom gets above first gear. Eschewing the technicolor craziness of movies such as The Fast And The Furious: Tokyo Drift, Initial D is down-to-earth and plausible, which makes the film seem even longer. We’re scarcely given any chance to get excited about the sullen protagonist, let alone find any reason to cheer for him. The accidental way in which he worms himself in a series of racing competition seems to reflect a passive observer more than an active participant. While the races themselves are well directed, the lack of diversity is a serious problem, not to mention the hum-drum nature of the featured cars. But the film at least has a special kick during the racing scenes –which is more than we can say about the non-racing subplots, the worst of which has to be a half-hearted romance with a spectacularly unsatisfying wrap-up. I suppose that a greater familiarity with the source manga might have helped, because the film on its own just doesn’t hold up.