Reviews

  • The Forever War, Joe Haldeman

    St. Martin, 1975 (2009 reprint), 288 pages, ISBN 978-0312536633

    I have spent a good chunk of my reading time this year rereading a few Science-Fiction classics (Card, Heinlein, etc.), usually to disappointing results: Finding out that old favourites haven’t aged well since one’s teenage years is common enough that SF fans often use the expression “visited by the suck fairy” to describe how books seem to curdle on their own once reread with a contemporary (and often, more personally mature) perspective.

    So it is that I’m overjoyed to report that Joe Haldeman’s The Forever War has not been perceptively visited by the suck fairy. It remains just as interesting now as when it was published forty years ago, and it has lost little of its qualities since then. (This being said, keep in mind that I was reading the 1997 “definitive” edition, notable chiefly for including a middle section that wasn’t in the version I read twenty years ago, along with a number of small fixes here and there.)

    The story is familiar enough: An unwilling man is drafted in the war effort against an alien race, and (thanks to the wonders of time dilatation) ends up living through the ensuing multi-millennium war. Through his relatively contemporary perspective, readers find themselves pushed farther and farther in an equally alien future. There’s military action, romance, savvy SF devices deployed well and hard-hitting enough narration to make the novel instantly gripping, even from its classic first line (“Tonight we’re going to show you eight silent ways to kill a man.”) It’s not an accident if it’s from a Vietnam veteran who was wounded in combat.

    The lineage that The Forever War owes to an entire tradition of military Science Fiction (most notably Heinlein’s Starship Troopers) is obvious, as are its intentions to subvert some of the inherent heroism in the genre. It’s notable, for instance, that the protagonist of the book isn’t a particularly good warrior, and that his only notable feat of military prowess comes very late in the novel—until then, he accidentally survives through luck and caution.

    Interestingly enough, it’s that grounded view of military service that has allowed The Forever War to survive through the decades. War, Haldeman seems to be saying, is not noble or glorious when you’re the grunt on the frontlines: it’s a scramble for survival, it’s something that separates you from your loved ones, it’s in service of other people who may not care all that much about you. The profound sense of alienation that carries through the novel was partially meant to reflect the aftermath of Vietnam for its veterans, but it still carries a potent charge today when measured against other more triumphant military-SF novels. In many ways, The Forever War is both a veteran’s novel, but one that can be readily understood, and championed, by readers without a minute of military service.

  • 300: Rise of an Empire (2014)

    300: Rise of an Empire (2014)

    (On Cable TV, December 2014)  My strongest reaction to the first 300 back in 2004, once past the first few garish beheadings, was the realization that I had suddenly been kicked out of the “young males, 18 to 34” demographic category: I found the film excessive, manufactured, far too violent and aimed at younger viewers.  So, in saying that the sequel isn’t too bad, I’m just coming to terms with the idea that I’m even older than I was back then.  Striking a balance between more of the same and a little bit of new, 300: Rise of an Empire wraps itself around the original film by explaining the origins of its antagonist, taking place alongside the first movie’s timeline and concluding a little bit later.  Director Noam Murro renews with the heavy (and bloody) post-processing aesthetics of the Zack Snider original, but benefits from a script that takes place largely in a naval environment, allowing for a bit of extra variety to the visuals.  Sullivan Stapleton is no Gerald Butler as the lead, but Eva Green makes a strong impression as the quasi-demented antagonist and almost single-handedly makes the film watching for something other than visual style.  Otherwise, it’s a slick historical action war movie, which is to say that it’ll please a certain viewership and doesn’t cater to others.  Worth a look, but maybe not a thought.  

  • The Zero Theorem (2013)

    The Zero Theorem (2013)

    (On Cable TV, December 2014) I actually had big hopes for this film.  Director Terry Gilliam is a true iconoclast, and his filmography contains a number of classics.  But then again, his filmography is also filled with less-successful material and lengthy pauses between projects.  Alas, The Zero Theorem doesn’t qualify as a success: While thematically ambitious and as visually intriguing as most of his other projects, this science-fiction film unfolds without rigor, letting its excesses run wild while not ensuring that the basic demands of the plot are met.  There are moment of wit (including a gigantic sign telling park visitors what not to do in great detail) and intriguing characters: Christoph Waltz is good in a nearly-unrecognizable role, whereas Mélanie Thierry makes for an unconventional romantic interest; Matt Damon and Tilda Swinton are unexpectedly fun in small roles.  Still, The Zero Theorem’s existentialist musings quickly devolve into pure incomprehensible yadda-yadda, choosing pretention over substance.  The story has tone issues that the film’s manic design only makes worse, while the conclusion doesn’t do much to bring all of the separate plot threads into a satisfying conclusion.  It’s a film best appreciated (and then again, not that much) by cinephiles and Gilliam completists rather than general audiences who will watch it and shrug: The Zero Theorem ends by disproving itself.

  • About Time (2013)

    About Time (2013)

    (On Cable TV, December 2014) On one hand, this is a terrible science-fiction film.  On the other hand, this is an excellent science-fiction film.  Those aren’t necessarily contradictions, if you accept that SF is at its best when it aims to illuminate facets of humanity and if you accept that genre SF has evolved to be as self-consistent as possible.  Written and directed by Richard Curtis, a talented artist with no background in genre SF, About Time firmly belongs to the naïve school of SF that believes that the worst logical flaws are irrelevant as long as viewers are moved by the emotional consequences of the science-fictional device.  And on that point, About Time is quite successful: While its time-traveling device isn’t much more that fuzzy wish-fulfilment (go in a closet, close your fists and wish really hard) with no consistent set of rules save for those that can be ignored by dramatic impact, the film does manage to poke at some of life’s biggest emotional dilemmas in a way that feels relatively fresh.  It helps, of course, that it’s part of the gentle British rom-com tradition: Domhnall Gleeson makes for an affable romantic hero, whereas Bill Nighy steals every scene as an amiable man who has figured out much of his life.  The film is a bit of a slow burn, starting in firmly comic territory before going into heavier themes.  Sure, it’s frustrating that the rules of the premise don’t seem to hold together, or that lies seem built-in most of the protagonist’s relationships.  But the film itself is pure charm, and such likability goes a long way in leaving viewers with a big smile and a bit of a heartache.

  • The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012)

    The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012)

    (On Cable TV, December 2014) I don’t usually go for teenage coming-of-age dramas –seeing The Perks of Being a Wallflower was a bit of self-imposed viewing to complete a checklist.  But there’s quite a bit to like in this tale of early-nineties growing up in Pittsburgh: a textured look at damaged teenagers (ie; all of us) and the way they can help each other cope.  Alternately hilarious, heartbreaking, tragic and uplifting, The Perks of Being a Wallflower goes everywhere but in a carefully deliberate fashion: there’s little that’s accidental in this story (written and directed by Stephen Chbosky, adapting his own novel) about how a high school freshman comes to find a support group among eccentric seniors and break out of his shell.  Logan Lerman is likably bland as the protagonist, while Emma Watson proves herself to be an interesting actress in this first post-Potter role and Ezra Miller steals every scene with his outspoken character.  The last twenty minutes are a roller-coaster of emotions as secrets are revealed, friendships are tested and tragedies unfold.  This is a movie with heart, complexity and a decent amount of subtlety as well: It reminded me of my own early-nineties high-school years despite having almost none of the specific experience of the characters.  The Perks of Being a Wallflower is not a spectacular film, but it lingers in mind far longer than most Hollywood spectacles.

  • Big Ass Spider! (2013)

    Big Ass Spider! (2013)

    (On Cable TV, December 2014) It’s no use trying to pretend otherwise: Big Ass Spider! is nothing but another of those cheap monster-movie-of-the-week that you see so often on SyFy and other cable channels desperate for content.  Here, a mutant spider gets bigger and eventually terrorizes Los Angeles, while a local exterminator teams up with the Army to remove the threat.  It’s far more comic than horrific, tries to present a monster invasion of a threadbare budget and never aims much higher than blue-collar amusement. (From the title onward, what else were you expecting?) There is, as they say, a market for that, even when it’s a one-note cliché blown over 90 minutes.  To its credit, though, Big Ass Spider! is a bit better than most similar films.  It has a sense of humor about itself, recognizes some of its limitations, does manage a few effective shots (the lesson, as usual, is to spend more on the important sequences) and even features a Lloyd Kaufmann cameo.  Greg Gunberg makes for an effective everyman-hero, but it’s Lombardo Boyar who turns in the most likable performance as his wisecracking sidekick.  The script may be a touch too heavy on stereotypical humor, but other lines work well: I was particularly amused at the leading pair’s reactions during an exposition-heavy scene.  Big Ass Spider! is not really a good movie, but you can be assured that there is much, much worse out there.

  • The Lego Movie (2014)

    The Lego Movie (2014)

    (On Cable TV, December 2014) There are so many ways this movie should have been awful.  Toy tie-ins usually don’t do very well.  The temptation to just turn out just a quick kid-level adventure must have been tremendous.  The third act jumps the fourth wall with gleeful abandon.  The very idea of a movie based on Lego is rife with pitfalls.  That only serves to make The Lego Movie feel all the more amazing: Not only does it deliver a hugely enjoyable action/comedy/fable, it does so while understanding, on a deep level, both the frantic sugar-rush of creation (for those who play with Lego) and the nostalgic appeal of those very same bricks (for those who played a lot with them and for some reason have stopped.)  The intricately clever script somehow manages to serve a straight-up adventure with cynical snark and heartfelt sentiment.  It’s quite an accomplishment, and it happens at approximately one joke every three seconds.  The third-act conceptual breakthrough (brick-through?) is insanely risky but pays off in spades, heightening the stakes raised thus far and transforming The Lego Movie into something far grander than the sum of its pieces.  The visual density of the film (computer-animated to mimic stop-motion) is terrifying, at times even overwhelming: this is a film that will warrant a second viewing, preferably in high definition.  After Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs and 21 Jump Street, this is the third time that writer/directors Phil Lord and Christopher Miller have managed to create something exceptional out of unpromising elements, and I’m hearing great things about 22 Jump Street as well: time to put those two on a must-watch list.  As for The Lego Movie, it builds a sense of giddy enjoyment rarely found at the movies –a sure sign that it’s aimed straight at my year’s-best list.

    (Second Viewing, in 3D, On Blu-Ray, January 2017) My list of movies to see for the first time is so long that I rarely re-watch anything these days, but I was willing to make an exception for The Lego Movie due to a number of reasons: I thought it was an instant classic upon first viewing; I ended my Lego “Dark ages” over the past year and am now reacquainted with the tactile experience of the bricks; and I managed to get my hands on a 3D blu-ray version of the movie. Seeing it again two years later, I’m still amazed at the results. The film can be re-watched with as much fun and sentiment — the density of visual details and the clean narrative act work in the film’s favour, and knowing a lot more about Lego had me appreciating details that I had missed before (such as the inclusion of Technic elements and much of the build techniques). The father/child dynamic also struck me more deeply, echoing various philosophies of Lego in my household. The Lego Movie is also remarkable in that watching it in 3D actually makes a positive difference: Despite my overall dislike of 3D as a gimmick, there is something very tactile about watching Lego bricks moving around in three dimension that brings the experience closer to the experience of playing with bricks. Even the small imperfections of the digital Lego pieces seem heightened by the 3D, and it goes without saying that the film becomes awe-inspiring when it moves through its gigantic virtual sets in three dimensions. (Unless I’m mistaken, the 3D Blu-Ray plays at 60fps on my 3D television, which also added to the quasi-tactile experience.) I can’t imagine re-watching most of the movies I see a second time, but I can see myself carving out a third viewing of The Lego Movie before long.

    (Third viewing, On 3D Blu-ray, April 2018) I don’t voluntarily see movies three times in four years, but The Lego Movie is an exception in many ways: Obviously enough it’s a kid’s film at a time when I’ve got a kid nearby; but it’s also a great movie with high rewatchability value: the joke density is insanely high, its visual density means that there’s always something to see on-screen, and it is structured in such a way that it unlocks more jokes and more thematic material the more you know about Lego.  I’ve gone from Dark-Ages lapsed Lego fan to full-fledged AFOL in the past three years, and this third viewing of the movie works even better considering that I get more of the jokes, that I know more about Lego techniques and history, and that the film’s central conflict reflects this household’s ongoing debate about Lego: instructions or creation; display or play; reality or fantasy?  Watching it in 3D isn’t just a useless gimmick here: The film is dynamic enough to justify the added 3D effect, and it makes for a great family experience to go “wow!” at once at some three-dimensional special effect.  We may even make watching this film a yearly event.

  • The Book Thief (2013)

    The Book Thief (2013)

    (On Cable TV, December 2014) At its most basic level, The Book Thief is about a girl living in a small German town during the Nazi regime: you can predict how well that’s going to go.  But beyond that, it seems as if most of the neat things about the film don’t add much to its foundation.  It’s fascinating, for instance, to discover that the story is narrated by Death itself… except that for all of the added depth that the narration brings (especially during the tacked-on epilogue), it doesn’t have much of an influence over the story itself.  I will gleefully defend any story that takes up reading as its cause… except that it, again, doesn’t seems to do much when set against a backdrop of World-War 2 Nazi Germany.  And yes, it’s great to see WW2 movies… except when it seems to be used to make point made quite eloquently elsewhere already. (Surely I can’t be the only one to have thought about The Reader.) The movie has its strong points: Sophie Nélisse is captivating as the titular heroine, (though there isn’t much book-stealing going on) Geoffrey Rush is warm and likable as the father-figure, while even Emily Watson gets a better role as the film develops her character.  Director Brian Percival ends up packaging a convincing portrait of life under the Nazis.  It’s skilfully made, touches upon many of my own personal leitmotivs… but it seems as if the ending comes too soon, prematurely cutting short a bunch of subplots, making them feel perfunctory or ordinary.  It ends without taking full advantage of its own strengths.  How strange. 

  • Butter (2011)

    Butter (2011)

    (On Cable TV, December 2014) I like discovering small-scale movies lurking in the late-night schedules of specialized cable channels.  You can often end up with competent fare such as Butter, a cynical comedy about Midwestern alienation, resentment and butter carving.  It’s not exactly a hidden gem featuring unknown actors: Jennifer Garner stars as a driven housewife, while Olivia Wilde plays a vengeful stripper and Hugh Jackman shows up for a small but entirely ridiculous role.  The story revolves around a woman taking up butter carving at a very competitive level after her husband’s retirement, only to be challenged by a young black girl with unusual natural talent for the craft.  Butter comes up decently when it’s most focused on the silliness of its characters given the low stakes surrounding them.  (Wilde’s character is preposterous, but despite her dodgy motivations the film simply feels funnier when she’s on-screen.)  There’s a bit of heart alongside the cynicism (most notably when Rob Corddry opens up with his foster daughter), but enough gags here and there to justify the time.  Butter does miss a number of its targets: There are obvious parallels here with the 2008 Democratic presidential nomination process, but they end up being more distracting than amusing.  The film does take place in a slightly-altered comic reality when characters often behave in ways more outrageous than realistic, and it may have been interesting to see the script commit even more broadly to this kind of absurdity.  Still, it’s tough to begrudge such a modest comedy, especially given the various pointed barbs it’s willing to feature. 

  • The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (2013)

    The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (2013)

    (On Cable TV, November 2014) On paper, The Secret Life of Walter Mitty looks like a terrific film: Ben Stiller as a dreamer forced out of his comfort zone, elaborate fantasies gradually ceding to ever-more-incredible real adventures as based on a classic James Thurber story.  There’s a lot of potential here for a meaningful film, heartfelt lessons and grandiose epiphanies.  The film’s budget is decent, allowing whatever fantasies and real-life vistas to be captured in detail.  Why, then, does the result feel so perfunctory?  While the film isn’t unpleasant to watch, it somehow fails to spark beyond mere competence.  The fantasy sequences are seamlessly integrated (and at least once escalate all the way to superhero theatrics) but even they can’t completely bring sharp humor and cutting wit into the entire production.  It probably doesn’t help that the third act drags on for so long, especially once the emotional high points of the story should have been settled.  There isn’t anything bad to say about Stiller’s direction –especially given the visual inventiveness of some sequences– although he himself may be too old to play Mitty.  (Meanwhile, Kristen Wiig is pretty enough as the somewhat underwritten love interest, while Adam Scott is deliciously evil as an insensitive boss.)  The integration of (now-defunct) Life Magazine is felt more deeply as thematic assistance than product placement (although if you want product placement, eHarmony, Papa John’s and Cinnabon are there to make you happy.)  Much of the plotting seems arbitrary, with at least two palpable moments where narrative tension evaporates at the moment it should become more urgent.  There may be an unresolvable tension at work here, between the wild fantasies and the desire to deliver a grounded and meaningful life lesson.  Even when it strives to embrace a more colorful, grander life, the film seems happy in its mild-mannered ways.  In the end, The Secret Life of Walter Mitty settles for being a good film rather than the great one that it wanted to be.

  • Why Horror? (2014)

    Why Horror? (2014)

    (On Cable TV, November 2014) While being called a “horror fan” may not carry as big a social stigma as it used to in a pre-Walking Dead era, professing to love horror can still earn a few alarmed stares.  Why Horror? tries to answer its own titular question by tagging along horror super-fan Tal Zimerman as he muses about the reasons that attracted him to the horror genre.  Writers/directors Nicolas Kleiman and Rob Lindsay follow Zimmerman as he questions his parents, undergoes an MRI scan, travels around the world and has sensors applied to his skin as he watches horror movies with his mom.  A somewhat amusing animated segment attempts to summarize the history of horror movies in five minutes, but Why Horror? isn’t a history of horror as much as it’s a level-headed but enthusiastic attempt to explain why some people are drawn to the genre.  Is it about “safe scares”?  Is it about seeking to understand our own death?  Is it about grim laughter in the face of mortality?  Is it about being shocked away from our safe realities?  All of those answers, and more, are valid –if there’s any conclusion from the film, it’s that various people seek horror for their own reasons, and while fans, filmmakers, authors, sociologists and cultural anthropologist can all poke at the question in their own way, it remains a very personal answer.  In passing, Why Horror? touches upon the twenty-first century mainstreaming of horror, the presence of women in making and enjoying horror, the way the genre is perceived around the world (the films starts and ends in Toronto, with stops in London, New York, Mexico and Japan) and why horror movies make such great date nights.  Interviews with people such as Eli Roth, the Soska sisters, George Romero, John Carpenter and others –including a few people I swear I’ve met at Toronto-area conventions.   As a documentary, Why Horror? is a competent effort, perhaps a bit rough around the edges but it definitely offers a few answers to its central question. 

  • 1941 (1979)

    1941 (1979)

    (On Cable TV, November 2014) I had been curious about Steven Spielberg’s 1941 for decades (since seeing it as a video-store rental in the mid-eighties, as a matter of fact), but now that I’ve found the time to see it, my first reaction is a blend of bewilderment and hilarity.  It’s fairly rare to see big-budget farce these days, and so 1941‘s most distinctive feature is the way its shamelessly silly comedy is played along a backdrop of expensive and explosive sight-gags.  It takes a while to adjust: the first (day-lit) half-hour feels dumb and uncomfortable as the dozen characters are rapidly introduced while mugging for the camera and the broad comedy seemingly goes everywhere.  It gets better once night falls and the film focuses (somewhat) on a USO show and ensuing mayhem.  The dancing sequence is one for the books, and as the comic set-pieces escalate, 1941 finds an amusing overblown rhythm.  Unfortunately, it peaks nearly twenty minutes before the actual end of the film, and the rest is just wrap-up.  There’s a decently subversive intent here in making fun of war paranoia following Pearl Harbor (I imagine there’s a pretty funny 2001 movie in our future poking fun at post-9/11 hysteria, but we won’t see it before 2039.), but the film as a whole feels as undisciplined as it is lavish.  It’s certainly still impressive: the special effects are top-notch even today, and the cast has some of the biggest names in then-film comedy.  (You can fawn over Dan Aykroyd or Ned Beatty or John Belushi, but I’ll giggle over Nancy Allen’s plane-crazy character, or Wendie Jo Sperber’s persistent Maxine.)  For better or for worse, there aren’t that many films with that particular tone nowadays, and so 1941 does warrant a look despite a number of significant flaws.  (Fans of stockings and garters will also be pretty happy with the film.)  Finally, as if you needed any further reason, it’s a Spielberg film, which means that it’s visually inventive and creatively self-assured: there are audacious camera moves everywhere, and the mayhem seldom degenerates into nonsense.  For all its flaws, it’s a big movie that tries things now seldom attempted.

  • Non-Stop (2014)

    Non-Stop (2014)

    (On Cable TV, November 2014) Is it time for yet another Liam Neeson thriller?  A better question would be: when isn’t it time for another Liam Neeson thriller?  An action star at a time when most other actors his age are trying to get out of the strenuous business, Neeson reliably takes on another grizzled veteran able to intimidate grown men simply by stepping into frame.  Here, he’s back in action as a federal Air Marshall who discovers an intricate conspiracy aboard his flight.  Racing against time, will he be able to discover who’s goading him by text messages?  It’s not a big plane, and there are only 150 suspects…  Director Jaume Collet-Serra handled the ensuing madness with occasional flourishes of style (most notably with a shot floating throughout the airplane), never quite letting the insanity of the script run away from him.  It’s a little bit demented, but just enough to keep the screws tightened during an exercise in a familiar “plane in peril” sub-genre.  (It’s quite a bit better than Flight Plan, if anyone remembers that)  While the specifics of the plot don’t always make sense, and the rationale behind the plot isn’t something that can really be explained while sober, there’s something interesting about an airplane thriller revolving around the very notion of inflight post-9/11 anti-terrorism security.  (Also ingenious: The on-screen effects showing us the text messages read by the characters.)  Lupita Nyong’o was cast in this film quite some time before winning an Oscar, so don’t be surprised to see that she has practically an extended cameo.  While the result isn’t particularly good, it is good enough to be entertaining when it needs to be, and fully exploits the added gravitas that Neeson can bring to any role.

  • Lone Survivor (2013)

    Lone Survivor (2013)

    (On Cable TV, November 2014)  It may or may not be interesting to note how many relatively-recent American war movies (The Alamo, Black Hawk Down, etc.) have been about disastrous engagements with high casualties.  Lone Survivor follows in that tradition by following a minor Afghanistan operation in which a team is practically exterminated in the ensuing carnage (this isn’t a spoiler: it’s in the title.)  The focus, here, is obviously on the nobility of being a warrior against terrible odds.  Lone Survivor clearly courts military-minded audiences, reassuring them that their sacrifice is necessary, that everyone involved is a hero and thus spends much of its energy nailing down the details of the fighting rather than try to make it fit in any broader context.  While that’s sure to annoy anyone with even the slightest doubts about the usefulness of the Afghan effort, it does help Lone Survivor feel quite a bit more grounded than other movies taking recent American military adventures as a springboard to overly-broad philosophical questions.  In this case, it’s clear that Mark Wahlberg, Taylor Kitsch, Emile Hirsch (surprisingly credible) and Ben Foster do pretty well in bringing life to underwritten characters, and that director Peter Berg is hyper-focused on the details of his centerpiece firefight.  Even the blood spurts look realistic.  Still, Lone Survivor operates in a void of meaning.  Despite the film’s sometimes heavy-handed worship of its characters, the third act is fit to make anyone shrug: to what good the sacrifice?  As much as the film will try to claim that it’s not really interested in the wider context, it does exist in a wider context and its punishing centerpiece action sequence does frame the film as something worth showing every Veterans’ Day.  Some audiences will be satisfied by this simple quality.  Others will bemoan that Lone Survivor could have been much better.

  • The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug (2013)

    The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug (2013)

    (On Cable TV, November 2014) I had to free my mind of two reasonable notions before starting to enjoy this second instalment of The Hobbit trilogy: First, that it ought to be faithful to the original novel; and second, that it had to be paced efficiently.  Once you accept the idea that The Hobbit is going to be a grand fantasy quest put together using the same grandiose tone as The Lord of the Rings, it actually becomes a bit more bearable.  The lavish, spectacular action sequences don’t feel out of place, and once you warm up to the tone, the lack of snappiness in the telling of the tale (which will eventually stretch a 300-page book for kids into a seven-hour trilogy of movies) simply becomes something to accept.  It’s hard, of course, to fault Peter Jackson from doing the best he can in making The Hobbit seem like an important story and recapture the magic of The Lord of the Rings: This second tome never misses an occasion to harken back to the other trilogy, either by featuring the same people (Legolas, back in fine surfing form), mentioning them (“my wee lad Gimli!”) or setting up portentous signs of Sauron’s return.  Still, this is fantasy-epic filmmaking of the highest order: the lavish details are all in place, the camera flows smoothly, the CGI is often flawless and the sheer excess of means used to put together this super-production seems worthwhile in itself.  There are some crazy sequences in here, perhaps the best being a long-running battle around rapids –there’s a lengthy shot in there that’s nothing short of beautiful action filmmaking.  There are small issues here and there (a shoehorned romance, overdramatic moments, arguably a sequence designed to trigger fits for arachnophobes), but the dragon pretty much makes up for it.  The pacing, as languid as it can be, is quite a bit better than the first instalment of the trilogy, and the cliff-hanger ending promises much for the concluding volume.  In the meantime, it’s a bit foolish to try to pin down a specific rating for this middle tome –best to wait until the end to take it all in.  All seven hours of it.