Movie Review

(In theaters, January 2007) Guillermo del Toro may not make masterpiece after masterpiece (Hellboy, anyone?), but he’s consistently fascinating in what he can turn out. His habit of alternating between glossy Hollywood movies and more personal films seems to be good for him in both directions: His Hollywood films are quirkier and more interesting, whereas his home-grown films are slicker than ever. So it is that Pan’s Labyrinth is unmistakably a successor to El Espinazo Del Diablo: The children-in peril motif is back, and so is the historical framework and the humans-are-the-monsters theme. Perhaps the most distinctive thing about the film is its mixture of an adult theme with a childish perspective: There an ambiguity to the story that contributes to its impact rather than obscure it: its most likeliest explanation is also the cruelest.. Otherwise, there little to say about the slick polish to the film, the excellent acting and the sensibility of the special effect. Del Toro may mis-step when drawing villains (defining them with the crudest elements), but the rest of his script is sure-footed. Where the film may lose a few viewers is in how, for a while, it’s not clear if it’s a film for kids or featuring kids: by the time the film settles the question, the younger members of the audience may have irreversible nightmares. Good for them.

(In theaters, January 2007) Steven Soderbergh strikes out as often as he hits home run, but The Good German ends up being a solid triple: not quite what we’d expect, but not a bad effort. There’s something lovely about his intention to direct a film as if this was 1945, with limited camera tricks, luscious black-and-white cinematography and classical staging. But this intention eventually clashes with the harsh language, explicit scenes and darkening geopolitics that eventually come to dominate the film. Though the clash is deliberate, it’s not entirely successful: Ironically, I think that the bitter denunciation of American post-WW2 power plays could have played well had the film toned down the more superficial language, sex and violence. More subtlety would have gone a long way… exactly like it did back then. Otherwise, George Clooney and Cate Blanchett are successful in roles seemingly tailored for them, while Tobey Maguire looks like he’s having a lot of fun as a repellent character far removed from his usual goody-goody heroes. Not a bad film, but certainly a let-down in how it does so many things right only to be defeated by the few things it does wrong.

(In theaters, January 2007) The post-Moulin Rouge! resurgence in movie musicals has been good for adapting Broadway plays to the big screen, and Dreamgirls is the latest to make the transition. As with the other ones, Dreamgirls is an effortlessly enjoyable piece of work, with a good mixture of drama and song and humour. Well, ok, not too much humour: Following the template of Motown’s history, Dreamgirls does the usual VH1 biography scenario and manages to shoehorn a happy ending in there anyway. Beyonce Knowles and Jamie Foxx may be the film’s putative stars, but most of the attention goes to Eddie Murphy and Jennifer Hudson in scene-stealing roles. Otherwise, the other highlight of the film is the “Cadillac Man” sequence, destined to be replayed in high-school classrooms whenever the subject of cultural appropriation comes up. Otherwise, well, there isn’t much to say: The film may not be the Oscar powerhouse everyone was expecting, but it’s good enough and “good enough” seems to be the rule for the new musicals.

(In theaters, January 2007) For a Science-Fiction fan, this film is a bit of a mess: The science is implausible, the background details are badly integrated with the world, and the structure feels off, especially toward the end. But this is a great film despite its weak SF elements. From a directorial standpoint, Children Of Men is a tour de force, combining savvy film-making with extraordinary visuals. At least three long continuous shots bring back some of that old “how did they do that?” magic while doing a tremendous job at drawing us into the story. Clive Owen is a solid protagonist, but everyone else holds their own in a finely crafted film. It’s a shame, though, that the extrapolation is so weak: The sterility problems are too sudden, too all-encompassing (and don’t hold your breath for an explanation, because it’s not that kind of film) to be credible, and elements of the technology shown in the film seem inconsistent with each other, not to mention difficult to reconcile with the “we don’t know why everyone’s sterile” statement. Oh well; at least the film is far better than the book when it comes to its SF elements, for which we can only be thankful. (And it’s hardly alone in being a “good SF movie” despite weak SF elements: In 2006, only A Scanner Darkly and The Prestige also earn that distinction.) Cinematic dynamite: don’t miss it.

(In theaters, December 2006) This film may be many things, but it’s certainly not what you’re expecting. Those who go in expecting another one of the many, many CGI-animal-comedy films released this year will be surprised by the action scenes, the explicit environmentalism, the romantic drama, the religious satire, the ethnic references, the soul/rap soundtrack and the often unusual turns of the plot. Technically, it’s a stunning piece of work: The Antarctic landscape is fabulously well-rendered, and the animators work miracles with the relatively limited constraints of penguin anatomy. The direction, by Mad Max alumni George Miller (who’s no stranger to off-beat family films such as Babe 2: Pig In The City), is slick and never hesitates to use the possibilities of CGI to its fullest extent. The action scenes alone are surprisingly enjoyable. But it’s on a story level that Happy Feet is most audacious: The film meanders here and there on the emotional map, opting for segments that range from amusing to nightmarish: The density and variety of the story makes the film feel considerably longer than its 108 minutes. Unfortunately, it also gives it a disconnected, almost incoherent feel: by the time it pulls itself together for a toe-tapping finale, it feels as if the film pulls itself out of a corner by jumping out the side window. Perplexing, but still more interesting than most CGI film released this year. The music alone makes it all worthwhile: Beyond the Moulin Rouge!-esque musical sampling of the first few minutes, the latter segments all lift the film well above its usual level and are guaranteed to make you smile… and tap.

(In theaters, December 2006) Aardman’s studio first CGI film is a smashing delight: While it doesn’t have the classic status of Wallace and Gromit, Flushed Away has learned all the good lessons from its more famous sibling: the action sequences are furious, the world-building is inventive, the sight gags are numerous and the entire production has a charm that makes it impossible to resist. The characters are realized in typical Aardman-clay style, with intentional surface texture defects and the characteristic eyes we’ve come to associate with the studio. The humour may be a bit more juvenile, but one of the surprises of the film is how successful it is even when it’s using naive gags: One gets the sense that the writers are almost apologizing for the clichés even as they milk them for all they’re worth. Visually busy and not one minute too long, Flushed Away is a solid hit: not a classic, but a title well-worth revisiting. Who would have thought that slugs could be such a hoot?

(On DVD, December 2006) While this 200-minutes long film may not be easy entertainment, it’s a splendid piece of docu-fiction that at least gives the impression of teaching about Cuba’s post-WW2 history, through the life of Fidel Castro from his early days as a lawyer to the dictator of today. Fidel himself makes for a complicated subject, a heroic rabble-rouser who comes to be corrupted by his own ideals. While the film goes easy on the historical character during its first half, things get a lot more dramatic after the revolution, as Casto becomes darker and his regime… doesn’t measure up to the expectations. The quality of the reconstitution is adequate, especially given the reduced budget for a four hours-long made-for-TV docu-fiction. It’s surprisingly accessible, even despite the dropped threads, lopsided structure and often-simplified historical material. The Cuba crisis is particularly condensed, though it does a fine job at explaining the situation as seen from Fidel’s viewpoint. A good choice for anyone looking for a bit of easy history: not so good for those who just want to see a movie.

(In theaters, December 2006) There it is: one of the first explicit Lord Of The Rings rip-off that exists because of the other film and is just as ridiculed because of it. There’s no doubt that the financial success of Peter Jackson’s adaptation trilogy unlocked the coffers for this film. Alas, the same trilogy provides a far better point of reference for all critics: Eragon is derivative trash, incompetently made and crammed with talent that can’t do anything with the material it’s given. Bad fantasy films aren’t anything new, as veterans of Dragonheart or Kull The Conqueror will attest, but The Lord Of The Rings now acts as a reference to prove that, yes, it’s possible to make good fantasy films. Eragon isn’t merely a pleasant derivative work like Narnia often felt: it’s minimum-effort film-making with a blatant disregard for its audience. The dialogue is particularly trite, with lines that you can anticipate (and ridicule) well before their utterance. Not that the plotting is any better, as severe suspension of disbelief or mild mental retardation is required to accept the plot cheats required for the story to go on. It speaks volumes that midway through the film, I found myself thinking that any slash fanfic coming out of this film is bound to be more interesting and entertaining than the source material. By the time the credits rolled, I had even started to giggle at the obvious slash hooks in the story: the protagonist is so not interested in the girl. Given the good odds that she may end up being his sister, it’s probably a good thing that he’s not into females without scales, wings and fire breath.

(In theaters, December 2006) At a time where Hollywood blockbusters seem more concerned about marketing than social edification, it’s a mixed blessing to see a film like Blood Diamond, which cleverly mixes all of the trappings of an action thriller with a heavy-handed social drama about the plight of Africa. It works far more often than it doesn’t, but the didactic edge to the film often lends it a moral righteousness that works at odds with the film’s entertaining nature. Compared to the similar The Constant Gardner, Blood Diamond feels like a blunt instrument swung wildly, often making contact but with far less grace. Entire chunks of the film feel superfluous, but none more than the shoehorned romance between the two white leads: Though Leonardo DiCaprio turns in a fabulous hard-edged performance on the heels of his turn in The Departed, Jennifer Connelly is a bit lightweight as a journalist who’s supposed to have seen everything –though she’s stuck in an underwritten role. Whatever the case, their romance feels like a weak and mandatory plot element, which is disappointing given the richness of the film’s other thematic concerns. Third-world exploitation, child soldiers, cyclic patterns of insurrection, private wars, first-world indifference, gun-dealing and other weighty issues are all tackled with some skill here, and the script even allows itself a generous helping of gunfights, chases and explosions. The result is a good film, but one that stops short of being great. Ironically, it’s not because it’s lacking something: it’s because it has too much of the wrong stuff. A leaner, less Hollywoodish third act would have been a perfect cap on an excellent film: as it stands now, Blood Diamond is still one of the better films of the year, but struggles to be anything more.

(In theaters, December 2006) That wily Mel Gibson! Who would have thought that his vast Mayan epic would be an excuse for a Rambo-like 40-minutes chase sequence? (Probably the same one who saw The Passion Of The Christ and said “Hey, that’s a shlock horror film!”) Despite the subtitles and lush visuals, despite the historical recreations and the fundamentally different nature of its protagonists, Apocalypto is both a travelogue and an action film, first taking us from jungle to decadent civilization and then following its protagonist through an extended chase where he picks off his opponents one by one. Tons of very painful gore belie Rousseau’s “noble savage” ideal, but finely uphold the violent nature of Gibson’s oeuvre so far. I do have a number of problems with the exactitude of the historical recreation, but not its verisimilitude. Though the film relies on two honking Once-in-a-Century Big Events as plot drivers, these contrivances pale in comparison to the pulse-pounding effect of the film’s third act. Apocalypto ends up being being a surprisingly accessible, vastly entertaining film. For those who can take the bloody nature of it.

(In theaters, November 2006) As historical Hollywood crime dramas go, this one doesn’t have the insane pyrotechnics of The Black Dahlia, but it may be just a bit better in the end. Certainly, it’s a slog to make it to the conclusion: Taking place on an intimate scale, this examination of George Reeves’ mysterious death isn’t particularly fast-paced, nor rich in dramatic action. On the other hand, the look at the life of TV’s first Superman is full of details, and even compassion for the characters. But what truly makes the film, beyond a number of solid performances (and yet another proof that Diane Lane get sexier with age) is the conclusion, which wisely presents no explicit explanation to the mystery of Reeves’ death, but does tip the scale toward an explanation that negates this film as an investigation. Gutsy move, and one that makes this film rank reasonably high on the historical accuracy charts. A generally solid, unpretentious film.

(In theaters, November 2006) Brilliant or pretentious? Fabulous or dull? Too-simple or cryptic? There’s no easy answer with Darren Aronofsky’s latest film, which steps boldly into experimental film territory with all the predictable consequences: Lush visuals, skilled direction and a disregard for anything approaching narrative coherence. Thematically, it’s a big blender of Important Themes: Death, Love, Life, Monkeys, etc. That it’s brilliant is undeniable. That it’s a mess that cares more about its director than the audience can be argued. Those who know they love these films can already go and get the damn DVD: everyone else looking for more conventionally entertaining material can go stare at swirling paint for an hour and a half. Martin Scorsese could have directed this as a short film and still have time to put in a Mafia subplot: Here, we’re stuck along with the important music, important visuals, important camera angles and important themes. Every year sees its own “you must be this masochistic to see this film” entry, and The Fountain is it. Genius, yes, important, maybe, but that doesn’t necessarily translate in anything like satisfaction or even lasting reputation: Who remembers Soderbergh’s Solaris even four years later?