Reviews

  • Zero Days (2016)

    Zero Days (2016)

    (On Cable TV, July 2017) Documentarian Alex Gibney is almost a national treasure at this point, able to transform complex modern topics in hard-hitting yet compulsively viewable documentaries. In Zero Days, he takes on one of the most fascinating computer security issues of the century so far, which is to say the Stuxnet worm that, in 2005, spread over the planet yet appeared to very specifically target uranium centrifuges used in the Iranian nuclear weapon development program. Throughout it duration, Zero Days patiently describes the way the worm was discovered, its complex peculiarities, what was hidden in the code, and why, piece by piece, security experts identified the United States and/or Israel secret services as likely candidates for the worm’s development. But as Gibney can’t get any official confirmation, he gets mad and, midway through, brings out his own confidential sources: Intelligence Community officers who, concerned with the potential of cyber-weapons, are willing to confirm and explain what had, up to this point, been merely informed speculation: NSA and Israel developed Stuxnet, then Israel made it more virulent and allowed it to escape with little thought about detection. (It probably also ran the more aggressive Stuxnet alongside a more conventional campaign of targeted assassination of Iranian nuclear experts.) Much of this story is familiar to people even remotely knowledgeable about cyber-security (check out Stuxnet’s Wikipedia page for details) but then Zero Days has a final revelation of its own: Nitro Zeus, a set of exploits and plans designed to bring down Iran’s infrastructure. It’s that kind of capability that led the NSA officers to leak details of US operations. It’s also that kind of stuff that should keep you awake, especially now that more leaks have suggested the existence of a Nitro Zeus aimed at Russia … and Russia’s own infrastructure-meddling experiments in Ukraine. Twenty-first-century warfare is not going to be about tanks and missiles, and it’s going to reach people in their own homes. Zero Days is a good primer on how bad it can be. By the time it replays the Obama administration’s happy announcement of a deal regarding the end of Iran’s nuclear program, the implied meaning is far more sinister: The US won its first cyber-war. But there will be others.

  • Passengers (2016)

    Passengers (2016)

    (On Cable TV, July 2017) Hmmm. As much as I’d like to like Passengers a lot, there a bit too much nonsense, mismatched tones and wasted opportunities to be entirely comfortable with the result. On the one hand, I do like that it’s an original Science-Fiction movie (for Hollywood values of “original”, which is to say one that only has half a dozen predecessors in print SF) and one that’s slickly made: the setting is terrific, and the film has the budget to fully presents its environment. I love the first half-hour, in which a man wakes up alone in a gigantic spaceship, 90 years from its destination: With a bit of tweaking, it could stand in for the first section of an adaptation of Allen Steele’s terrific short story “The Days Between”. Chris Pratt is pretty good as the desperately alone protagonist, stuck in a nightmare caused by automated arrogance. Never mind that the plot doesn’t make a bit of real-world sense yet, because there’s more to come. The film becomes uglier as our protagonist decides to wake up a carefully chosen passenger, essentially dooming her to the same drawn-out death than him. That moral choice is not indefensible as a plot point, but it does set up expectations that are dashed when the film moves on to “but there was a catastrophe on the way, so it’s all OK!” as an excuse for his actions. A harsher conclusion would have made the gesture carry more weight, although it likely would have robbed Passengers of its mainstream appeal. There are quite a few logical and scientific errors later on, and they do sap the movie of its accumulated goodwill. Not much of the film’s problems can be blamed on its very short cast, though: Chris Pratt makes for a credible everyday man, and while we’re past peak-Jennifer Lawrence adulation, she’s rather good in a role that asks for some very dramatic moments. To be fair, I also liked Passengers a whole lot more watching it moment-by-moment than I would have expected by reading some of its harsher reviews—at times, the vitriol-versus-film ratio reminded me of the Prometheus episode, in which a slickly-made SF movie gets roasted for factors that don’t faithfully reflect the entire film. It’s also worth noting that what bothers people most about Passengers is an integral part of the film’s plot, and that it’s never avoided or downplayed. If this sounds like a half-hearted defence of the film, then I suppose it is—Passengers doesn’t have what it takes to be a great SF movie, but it definitely has its strong moments and haunting sequences. Passengers also shows, in many ways, how mass audiences are now willing to accept and play with concepts that used to be cutting-edge SF a few decades ago—as much as I can quibble with the errors, the distasteful nature of its premise or the way it plays safe, it’s also a polished piece of space-set SF the likes of which I’d like to see more often.

  • Private Benjamin (1980)

    Private Benjamin (1980)

    (In French, On TV, July 2017) I was originally tempted to launch this review by comparing Private Benjamin to the 1981 Bill Murray comedy Stripes, but it’s a comparison that only goes so far: While both movies follow a similar structure in transforming their protagonist from a civilian zero to a military hero, they do look at the same subject from very different perspectives. While Stripes is more of a goofy slob-power fantasy, Private Benjamin is largely about the self-empowerment of a young woman cast adrift. And that carries an entirely different tone, much like the fact of this being a female-led film does lend it a distinctive comic flavour. It does work … but much of the impact of the comedy seems blunted by the intention to have it mean something more. Behind the laughs, and to the conclusion of the movie, Private Benjamin is about tough choices that may or may not lend themselves to giggly laughs. As such, there’s a tension at the heart of the film between Goldie Hawn’s more overtly comic moments (“the army with the condos and the private rooms!”) and its more serious intention of resisting male domination. (But then again this is a movie about a woman whose husband dies on top of her on their wedding night.) It works, but it doesn’t quite click. Some of the material in the beginning is audacious; some of the material in the middle is funny; some of the material at the end is depressing. Hawn herself is great, and she’s supported by a good cast that has an early appearance by Armand Assante. This is one of the rare cases when a remake may be interesting—Most of the themes remain contemporary, and I’m not sure that nearly forty years have changed much in the way women are integrated in US military forces.

  • Driving Miss Daisy (1989)

    Driving Miss Daisy (1989)

    (On Cable TV, July 2017) In retrospect, it seems almost amazing that such a restrained piece of social-issue cinema as Driving Miss Daisy would go on to win the Best Picture academy award. It is, after all, nothing much more than the story of a growing friendship between an elderly Jewish lady and her black chauffeur, spanning years from the fifties to the seventies. Arguably more about aging than race relations, Driving Miss Daisy is a surprisingly quiet movie. No big speeches, a few soft-spoken disagreements, unusually generous pacing (which is to say: slow) and plenty of character moments. Jessica Tandy won an Oscar for her role as the lady who learns better, while Morgan Freeman broke through the mainstream with his performance. While the result hasn’t aged very well (it’s curiously well-mannered), it’s still not a bad film by any means. Still, most will see it either as Oscar completionists or fans of Morgan Freeman.

  • The Amityville Horror (1979)

    The Amityville Horror (1979)

    (On Cable TV, July 2017) Not all haunted house movies are created equal, and despite The Amityville Horror’s reputation, it ranks toward the low end of the scale. Part of it has to do with its familiarity: The haunted-house story has become a cliché at this point, and The Amityville Horror doesn’t renew much along the way, what with its hallucinations, Catholic curses, familiar plot points (save the dog!) and rather long duration time. James Brolin, Margot Kidder and Rod Steiger all do good work, but the subject matter is just tired—even more so if you’re not inclined to give any credence to the “based on real events” claim that surrounds the film. A few period details are intriguing (such as the acceptance of the paranormal by a supporting character) but much of it just feels dull, and some of the most promising material (the black ooze, for instance) don’t seem to pay off meaningfully. I used to think that the 2005 remake wasn’t very good, but it turns out that the original isn’t really good either.

  • The Addams Family (1991)

    The Addams Family (1991)

    (On DVD, July 2017) There are times when you watch an older movie and it’s so good that you wonder why you haven’t seen it before. I’ll be the first to admit that The Adams Family isn’t a perfect film: As a macabre-themed comedy, it’s not built around a plot as much as gags and atmosphere, so it’s likely to be the kind of film that you find wonderful from beginning to end … or not. As far as I’m concerned, The Adams Family hits the right buttons in the right order. From the opening credit sequence (which features a font similar to Men in Black, also directed by Barry Sonnenfeld), it’s a ride through a darkly funny imagination. But there’s more than black comedy in play here: The appeal of The Addams Family isn’t necessarily in the macabre stuff as much as the solid family unit being demonstrated through the jokes. The lustful relationship between Morticia and Gomez is straight-up #relationshipgoals idyllic, and the film show over and over again that the Addams clan can rely on itself to take care of outsiders. And while the plot is simple, there’s some structural genius in the way it brings in an outsider to show what’s happening in that family, and to allow the intruder to be captured by the family’s charm. Otherwise, the jokes aren’t always obvious and even when they are, their delivery is perfect. (I laughed far too much at “Are they made from real Girl Scouts?”) The Addams Family does have the advantage of relying on an ensemble cast of terrific actors ideally suited to their role. Anjelica Huston has a career-best role as Morticia Adams, perfectly spooky and sexy at once. Raul Julia and Christopher Lloyd both get to ham it up as brothers, while Christina Ricci got her breakout role here as Wednesday Addams. The stable of characters works well, but the production design and loopy humour is what sets this film apart. This delight-a-minute visual extravaganza may not work on everyone else equally, but as far as I’m concerned, The Addams Family is a classic that I should have seen much earlier.

  • Chariots of Fire (1981)

    Chariots of Fire (1981)

    (On Cable TV, July 2017) It brings me no joy to say it, but: Wow, Chariots of Fire is a dull movie. The opening sequence sets the tone, all slow motion running and Vangelis’s classical theme. Now, I’m not saying that it’s a bad film, but it’s so clearly addressed at another kind of viewer that I’m left pointing out how little appeal it has for the rest of us. What it does well is giving us a glimpse at the psyche of the British immediately following the First World War: The film sombrely begins with reminders of the fallen soldiers and their absence still being felt in British universities. It keeps going with a sober exploration of the role of faith and religion at the time, setting up the dilemmas facing our two running protagonists as they make their way to the 1924 Paris Olympics. Ben Cross and Ian Charleson do good jobs in the lead roles. That’s all well and good (and an early sequence had me reading about the Trinity Great Court Run) but the film itself moves at a snail’s pace, with comparatively low stakes and a subject matter that does quite manage to reach me. Fortunately, Chariots of Fire doesn’t need my critical appreciation, not when it’s an Oscar-winning classic with thirty-five years of acclaim. But I’m surprised at how uninteresting it is, when so many of its contemporaries can be watched with interest even today.

  • Miss Congeniality 2: Armed and Fabulous (2005)

    Miss Congeniality 2: Armed and Fabulous (2005)

    (In French, On TV, July 2017) No one will ever claim that Miss Congeniality 2: Armed and Fabulous is a modern classic. While some may have a justifiable soft spot for the original, it quickly becomes clear that this sequel has more interest in predictable box-office gross than any kind of artistic intention. Dragged back kicking and screaming into the world of pageantry when it becomes clear that her identity has been forever blown on national live TV, our returning protagonist (played with usual dedication by Sandra Bullock) knows fully well what’s expected from her this time around. Still, she gets to make humiliating mistakes, go rogue, tackle Dolly Parton to the ground (because why not?), vamp it up at a transvestite show (because again why not?) and impart some of her hard-won lessons to another female agent who could use a makeover. It’s formula and cute and saccharine like the first film, and it even lets William Shatner do a little bit of hamming along the way. The very essence of sequels is to do the same thing again but not too differently and in this light then Miss Congeniality 2: Armed and Fabulous fulfills its ambitions. Fans of the first movie should like it. Everyone else may need to consider whether they want to subject themselves to more of the same.

  • …and justice for all. (1979)

    …and justice for all. (1979)

    (On Cable TV, July 2017) For a movie that’s nearly forty years old, And Justice for All still works remarkably well. It’s recognizably from the late seventies, but it tackles evergreen notions of idealism versus cynicism, as exemplified by an impetuous lawyer (Al Pacino, in a career-establishing performance) stuck between his ideals and the realities of the judicial system. It’s very darkly humorous (call it a courtroom drama with a body count) but it doesn’t make the mistake of being nihilistic: throughout, we can cheer for our protagonist as obstacles pop up. Pacino is terrific, director Norman Jewison keeps everything at a slow boil, old-school veteran John Forsythe makes for a loathsome villain, Christine Lahti is good in her big-screen debut and Jeffrey Tambor also pops up as an unhinged lawyer. (Almost all of the characters are unhinged in their own way, but that’s the film.) While the script is riddled with contrivances and satirical moments, it’s that bigger-than-life quality that gives And Justice For All it peculiar charm and timeless appeal.

  • Assassins (1995)

    Assassins (1995)

    (In French, On TV, July 2017) The good news are that Assassins is a crazy movie in the best sense of the term: It’s disconnected enough from reality to be enjoyable as a big basket of overdone action sequences and familiar genre elements. The not-so-good news is that it’s not really a good movie—much of the storyline is dull and for a movie involving the Wachowskis and Brian Helgeland, it fails to capitalize on its sizzle factor. Thanks to veteran director Richard Donner, there are some good sequences here and there: the taxicab blocked-by-a-bulletproof-window duel is ingenious in the way more of the movie should have been. Sylvester Stallone and Antonio Banderas ham it up enough as competing assassins. But the best thing about Assassins may be Julianne Moore: For an actress who has such a firmly established persona of mature dignity, it’s a real treat to see her in a pre-stardom role that asks her to be trashy/techno in one sequence, then doe-eyed/cute for the rest of the film. Assassins is also the source of the delightful “Antonio Banderas’s Laptop Reaction”.gif, so there’s a tiny bit of internet meme history along the way. Assassins isn’t a major movie in any way and has already ended up as a footnote in other people’s careers, and it should be approached as such: Not as a movie expected to be good, but a grab bag of things that may be interesting.

  • Loving (2016)

    Loving (2016)

    (On Cable TV, July 2017) I’m not the most enthusiastic viewer of social-issue dramas, but there is something quietly fascinating in how Loving portrays the story of how laws against interracial marriages were struck down in the 1960s. For, as amazing as it can sound, there were laws on the book in several southern states that forbid interracial couples. The Lovings, whose story is told here, were forced to pick up everything and leave the state for twenty-five years or spend a year in jail. Writer/Director Jeff Nichols takes up their story with his typical attention to details, and the result is interesting largely because the Lovings did not see themselves as civil rights activists, just two people in love with each other. This is particularly the case for the husband, played with quiet determination by Joel Edgerton, who may not have been particularly intelligent or outspoken, but let his actions speak for themselves. Ruth Negga also turns in an exceptional performance as the wife. The script spends a lot of time on the Lovings and very little on courtroom machinations—in keeping with the heroes of the story, which were far more concerned about living their lives than being a symbol. The resulting movie is heartfelt without being overbearing, a combination that makes it more effective than other similar social-issues film. For Nichols, Loving is a return to formal drama after three genre films and it shows that he can do just as well without any genre elements (which shouldn’t be an issue, given that the strengths of his genre pictures were in their dramatic elements).

  • Land of the Dead (2005)

    Land of the Dead (2005)

    (On TV, July 2017) Writer/director George Romero may be acknowledged as a defining figure of the zombie horror subgenre, but his movies became steadily more generic as time went on. Some of this can’t be blamed on him as much as the subgenre evolving beyond Romero’s vision. His fourth zombie film, Land of the Dead, was released in 2005, for instance, a year that saw somewhere between 22 and 28 other zombie movies. That’s also one year after 2004, an acknowledged peak year which saw the release of such modern zombie classics as Dawn of the Dead (remake) and Shaun of the Dead, and arguably the start of a zombie craze that hasn’t yet abated. In that context, Land of the Dead feels … ordinary. Taking place years after the zombie apocalypse, it revolves around downtown Pittsburgh, in which a zombie-free haven exists for surviving humans. Adding to the drama, Romero sets up a conflict between rich and poor humans which inevitably leads to barriers being broached and an inevitable bloodbath. John Leguizamo is remarkable as a character who comes to appreciate the limits of his social class. Otherwise, it’s the kind of second-generation zombie story we’ve seen elsewhere (most notably 28 Weeks Later): the living can’t live with each other effectively enough to fight the dead, the centre does not hold, and the dead win. Land of the Dead is relatively effective in that it has themes, some wit, some imagination and intentions that go beyond “just another zombie movie”. But there are limits to its effectiveness, especially in a sub-genre that has seemingly been strip-mined in the past decade and a half.

  • Bettie Page Reveals All (2012)

    Bettie Page Reveals All (2012)

    (On TV, July 2017) Much of what is true about Bettie Page of the biopic The Notorious Bettie Page is also true about the documentary Bettie Page Reveals All: Beyond the nude pictures associated with “Queen of the Pin-Ups” Page and the salacious details of her involvement with the earliest generation of men’s magazines, her story is a lens through which to examine America’s moral evolution from the fifties to the twenty-first century, the way celebrities can re-emerge in popular consciousness decades later, or how unlikely some lives can be. That’s certainly the case with Page, who (after rough early years) almost wholesomely started modelling, became a sensation, then left the limelight so thoroughly that, for years, people wondered if she had died. Instead, she did religious work for a while, then had psychological/legal/medical issues for a solid decade until she was rediscovered in the mid-nineties and spent the last decade of her life enjoying a much higher standard of living thanks to long-delayed royalties. Much of the documentary is narrated by Page herself, although a good selection of interviewees also help complete her story. It’s an amazing narrative in many ways, and unlike The Notorious Bettie Page, it goes beyond her years as a pin-up and as a religious worker to talk about the nadir of her life and the years she spent under state supervision for criminal acts. The documentary highlights Page’s creative side (she designed a number of outfits she wore during photo shoots) and her latter-day impact on pop culture. It also shows unpublished photographs, details the issues that her publishers had with the law and goes in quite a bit of detail about Page and everything that surrounded her. Far more than just a documentary excuse to show racy pictures, Bettie Page Reveals All ends up being a definitive statement on an exceptional woman, a fashion/pop icon and a terrific life story.

  • Trolls (2016)

    Trolls (2016)

    (On Cable TV, July 2017) Colorful and peppy to an extent that it becomes a plot point, Trolls is the kind of cookie-cutter kids’ animated film that now seems to come out monthly. I’m not complaining: The overall quality of such films have been relatively high, they do entertain the kids and they usually feature two or three standout sequences that are worth a look. And while I haven’t warmed up to Trolls the way I’ve liked even middle-ground recent efforts such as Sing or Storks, there’s still enough here to justify a distracted look. “Adapted” from the mini-dolls, Trolls does stake out a relatively terrifying premise in establishing a universe in which trolls are considered joyful delicacies by the joyless Bergen monsters. Thus threatened with consumption, our dancing-and-singing heroes are left free to run, befriend and compromise. The plot is simple, but what makes Trolls pop is the relentless assault of colours and bouncy songs, many of them reinterpreting pop hits. (The two big exceptions, “Can’t Stop the Feeling!” and “Get Back up Again” are singles-grade pop hits on their own.) Any movie that starts with Earth, Wind and Fire’s “September” (which begins by mentioning my birthday) is gold in my book, and while Trolls later goes the easy way by reinterpreting pop songs downtempo, the rest of the film can be listened to easily. Producer/voice-actor Justin Timberlake has much to do with this quality of the film (“Can’t Stop the Feeling!” became an authentic radio hit). The colour and rhythm eventually become part of the plot, but don’t fret: everything gets better by the end. Trolls is not a great movie, it’s not even a great kids’ movie, but it’s adequate enough, and its soundtrack means that you can, in fact, listen to the film while doing something else.

  • Kramer vs. Kramer (1979)

    Kramer vs. Kramer (1979)

    (On Cable TV, July 2017) Nearly forty years later, there are things about divorce drama Kramer vs. Kramer that have aged poorly, but the film itself does still carry a good chunk of its original impact. While single dads are more commonplace nowadays, the pain of divorce proceedings remains portrayed with heart-wrenching effect. Dustin Hoffman is good as an advertising executive suddenly asked to be a single dad after his wife leaves abruptly—the sequence in which he seeks a job on Christmas Eve remains a highlight of the film. Meryl Streep doesn’t have the most sympathetic of roles as the disappearing wife, but she’s amazing in her own ways. The script does appear to cheat in its final moments (and it does come really close to misogyny in portraying Streep’s character—fortunately, she gets a monologue to explain herself), adding even more drama to the entire film. The portrayal of late-seventies New York City is fascinating in itself, and much of the film still plays effectively even today. What doesn’t quite play so well is the reactionary content—while there’s a conscious attempt here to tips the scales and argue in favour of fatherhood, it seems really blunt by today’s standards. Kramer vs. Kramer hasn’t become a more sympathetic movie along the way, though, so viewers may want to steel themselves for an unpleasant experience.