Reviews

  • Wong Fei Hung II: Nam yee tung chi keung [Once Upon a Time in China 2] (1992)

    Wong Fei Hung II: Nam yee tung chi keung [Once Upon a Time in China 2] (1992)

    (On DVD, January 2004) The story of Wong Fei-Hung continues, this time in Canton as a popular uprising brews, headed by a charismatic villain. Once again for this series, the stronger-than-usual historical content is often more interesting than the actual fights, though the end duel is not bad at all. At least the characters start to emerge (especially Foon), and there’s a pretty amusing scene in which eastern medicine is demonstrated to westerners. Alas, the film blurs with its prequel and sequel when shown back-to-back, which may actually indicate a pretty consistent level of quality. The all-in-one trilogy DVD contains the subbed movie, and that’s pretty much it.

  • Wisegirls (2002)

    Wisegirls (2002)

    (On DVD, January 2004) This straight-to-video mob story with a twist is decently entertaining, but not much more. Here, Mira Sorvino does well as an aspiring doctor forced to move to Staten Island to take care of her ailing grandmother. The plot is set in motion as her budding medical abilities serve her well when she stumbles upon dark dealings while working as a waitress at an Italian restaurant. The rest of the story has a familiar air to it: The budding friendship between three waitresses, the growing realization that the restaurant is a front for the Mafia, the impending crisis as cops and criminals collide around the protagonist… It’s, in many ways, cookie-cutter stuff, but it’s decently paced and not terribly done. Plus, Mariah Carey is scorching hot as Raychel, and her good performance can help forget her turn in Glitter. The bare-bones DVD has a few trailers, and that’s it.

  • Whale Rider (2002)

    Whale Rider (2002)

    (On DVD, January 2004) I’m not a big fan of dramas in which old cultures learn to resist new social conventions, and so that particular aspect of Whale Rider is a bit lost on me. Where it works a little bit better, though, is in depicting a young girl’s fight for acceptance among her family, and the relationship between her and her grandfather. It unfolds pretty much as you’d expect, with appropriate pauses for tears and laughter. I can see why other people could go for this Oscar-nominated film. Good images; impeccable technical aspects. Keisha Castle-Hughes is wonderful as the heroine, but it’s Rawiri Paratene who steals the show as her gruff grandfather.

  • Wheelers, Ian Stewart & Jack Cohen

    Warner Aspect, 2000, 505 pages, C$34.95 hc, ISBN 0-446-52560-X

    I’ve said it before, but it’s worth repeating again: The most representative works of Science Fiction, the ones that really rekindle our burning love for the genre, are not necessarily the best. Great characters, gripping plotting and superb writing are nice, certainly, but they are in no way what differentiates SF from the vast body of “other” fiction. Fans of the genre can appreciate a good work of fiction over a bad one, but we read the stuff for other reasons: The ideas, the concepts, the unflagging dedication to logic and reason as our best hope for the future. These are what makes SF so special. Call it an ideological position fit for nerds and geeks if you want, but you won’t be able to shake the appeal of fiction that speaks directly to what we believe in.

    Ian Stewart and Jack Cohen’s Wheelers is pretty much a textbook-example of how to write hard-core Science Fiction. It’s not particularly strong in any area save for ideas, technical accuracy, respect of science and sense of wonder. In short, everything that makes this genre so great and so much fun.

    The plot ball takes a while to get rolling, but when it does, it places circa-2220 humanity in the path of a comet. (The situation is actually more complicated than that, given how the comet was redirected toward Earth after a decidedly unnatural realignment of Jupiter’s moons.) Given the nature of celestial mechanics, there’s both plenty of warning and not much time to spare: A team of crack scientists is assembled and shipped off to Jupiter to investigate the findings. It helps, somewhat, that proof of some Jovian intelligence had been discovered by the book’s protagonist right before everything started to go wrong.

    Naturally, the plot isn’t the main attraction here. Stewart and Cohen are both working scientists and so the real meat of Wheelers is in the details. While not staggeringly original, the imagined future presented in this novel is intriguing, what with Earth clawing its way out of an anti-technological age, the moon and the asteroids in the hand of a Zen sect and plenty of alien activity underneath Jupiter’s clouds. Just you wait, though: The revelations get progressively more exhilarating and even if the plot concludes far too early, the last few pages are a carnival of neat ideas.

    It speaks volume that by far the most interesting segment of the book is a pure application of physics: When, midway through, one character absolutely has to go from planet A to planet B in mere days rather than the usual months dictated by chemical propulsion technology, a hair-raising hack is devised involving celestial mechanics and mass drivers. It’s a wonderful, jaw-dropping sequence, and a neat idea that wouldn’t feel out of place in, say, one of Niven’s good hard-SF stories. Real SF fans will lap it up like milk chocolate.

    Happily, the rest of the book is a lot like that. To their credit, the authors manage to craft a good novel without too many obvious flaws —though the way the POV kept switching from one paragraph to another in the same scenes is truly annoying. Yes, the novel spends far too much time establishing back-story, ends too soon, muddles its “alien viewpoints” segments and doesn’t create much empathy with its human characters. But it does conform to most accepted standards, and heaven knows that other working scientists have churned out far worse stuff in the history of SF.

    But few of those things matter when considering the intellectual ride that is Wheelers. The erudition of the authors is obvious throughout (they can’t resist “As you Know Bob” scenes, but they do it in a reasonably entertaining fashion; see P.25-30), there are a fair numbers of cute little gags and the steady escalation of revelations is profoundly satisfying to anyone weaned on a diet of classic hard-SF.

    Every year, dozens of hard-SF novel pass unnoticed by fans who would rather complain that there’s nothing interesting being written in the Asimov-Clarke-Heinlein vein. While Wheelers is not -let’s be honest- in the same league, at least playing the same sport, and sometimes that’s just good enough. Hard-SF fans, rejoice… and give Wheelers a spin or two.

  • Swept Away (2002)

    Swept Away (2002)

    (On DVD, January 2004) Yikes! What the heck happened to Guy Ritchie? After spectacular success with films like Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and Snatch, here comes this… travesty. Granted, it stars Madonna and she was (at the time of the film’s release, anyway) his wife. But the problems with Swept Away run much, much deeper than her deficient acting skills (she does fine, actually) or the lavish indulgence the film showers over her. The script, in a few words, simply suck. I don’t care about the “comedy” argument: There aren’t many ways a man demanding “you will call me master” to a woman can sound funny these days, as the film devolves into an insipid power trip. It’s unconvincing, not really amusing (save for some sparse gags) and it just takes forever to move. While the Mediterranean cinematography is nice, it’s not a substitute for plot or dialogue, and Swept Away fails when it comes to those. The direction is so flat that it’s virtually impossible to guess that Ritchie is as the helm, which is probably the film’s most damning indictment. To top it off, the so-called “comedy” ends on a complete downer. But don’t worry: You will have stopped caring long before. Maybe even stopped watching long before. The DVD contains a puzzling “making of” interview between Madonna and Ritchie, as well as a commentary track I will watch only after being paid big bucks.

  • Serving Sara (2002)

    Serving Sara (2002)

    (On DVD, January 2004) On one hand, there’s scarcely anything new or innovative or even remarkable about this film. A subpoena server is stuck between duelling spouses competing for divorce. Romance ensues. Hoo-ha. In fact, you’d be hard-pressed to think of the details of this film even mere hours after seeing it. But save for a few distasteful scenes (I never want to see the bull sequence again), the film isn’t terrible, and the zippy put-downs do a lot to make it seem funnier than it actually is. Matthew Perry does the most with a role that allows him to showcase some superficial acting and Elizabeth Hurley is -as usual- quite fetching. Of the rest of the cast, both Cedric the Entertainer and Bruce Campbell are fine, but they seem a bit confined in underwritten roles. The film seems longer than it is, mostly due to some questionable editing choices and some scenes that run a bit too long. Otherwise, well, it’s the kind of film you see because you haven’t yet seen it, not because it’s particularly interesting or commendable. The DVD contains a few mildly interesting featurettes (all self-congratulatory) and a director’s commentary I would have listened to had I had more time to waste.

  • Seabiscuit (2003)

    Seabiscuit (2003)

    (On DVD, January 2004) It’s a movie about a horse. Yes, it’s well directed, and it’s got a few interesting moments here and there. But in almost any aspect, it’s old fashioned. A film that your grandparents would love, had your grandparents been Americans. The dialogue, directing, cinematography, values… good, but unremarkable. Even “the future” so triumphantly promised in the film is comfortably in our own past. Yes, the horse is a metaphor for depression-era America. Get over it. Tobey Maguire is indifferent as Seabiscuit’s jockey. Far more interesting are Jeff Bridges as his rich employer and Chris Cooper as a tough horse trainer. Otherwise, well, there isn’t much to say about the film: the making-of featurettes included on the DVD are nearly more interesting than the film itself, as they describe how some of the horse-racing scenes were shots and how the writer/director adapted the original book into a script, and then into a series of shots. The true history of Seabiscuit is also quite interesting, though it ends along with the film and not at the true end of the road for this horse and its humans. (The end of their story was, shall we say, rather darker than a Hollywood movie ending.) This is a completely safe family film experience. No edge… but apparently it was good enough for Oscar nominations.

  • Roger & Me (1989)

    Roger & Me (1989)

    (On DVD, January 2004) Most Michael Moore fans discovered him with this film and then followed his career through Canadian Bacon and the rest. I had to start with 2002’s Bowling For Columbine and work my way back, but the big surprise is that even fifteen years later, Roger & Me is still as relevant than it was back in 1989. This feature-length opinion piece (not exactly a documentary, mind you) detailing the downfall of Flint, Michigan along with General Motors’ plant closure still resonates in this Bush II era of offshoring and jobless recovery. A colourful cast of real characters makes good fodder for Moore’s omnipresent camera, along with some staggering revelations coming forth unsolicited. Yes, this is a film that practises misdirection: The chronological order of some events is jumbled up and there’s the obvious feeling that Moore is cherry-picking his material. But that, in itself, does nothing to invalidate Moore’s thesis and even less to diminish the emotional impact of the film. Through its numerous tangents (“Pet or Meat: Rabbits for sale”) and sometimes gratuitous grandstanding, Moore manages to produce a mesmerizing piece of cinema that’s as compelling as great fiction. The editing of the film alone is a model in indictment: I especially liked how careful juxtaposition of scenes managed to make four frail old ladies seem the most evil quartet on planet Earth. Also up for props: The self-serving words of a corporate executive, intercut with heart-breaking scenes of a family being evicted on Christmas Eve. Great stuff. Alas, few things have changed since then. The DVD includes a commentary by Moore which, while interesting and informative, also seems half-lacking in substance.

  • Of Paradise and Power, Robert Kagan

    Knopf, 2003, 103 pages, C$27.00 hc, ISBN 1-4000-4093-0

    In the June/July 2002 edition of Policy Review, Robert Kagan wrote an article titled “Power and Weakness”, in which he tried to explain the growing policy differences between the US and European leaders. It begins with “It is time to stop pretending that Europeans and Americans share a common view of the world, or even that they occupy the same world.” and goes on from there. Lucky readers who consulted the article early on had the rare privilege of prescience over the next few months, as the whole unilateral rush toward the American invasion of Iraq gave proof to Kagan’s theory.

    While the article is available on line (and yes, you should read it), its lucid description of Pax Americana geopolitics was deemed worth of expansion and book publication. The resulting work, Of Paradise and Power: American and Europe in the New World Order, may be an exceedingly thin book, but don’t be fooled by its succinctness: It’s a brilliant piece of work.

    Kagan argues that since the winner of the Cold War has been decided, the western world is gradually losing its convenient cohesion. National interests are once again taking precedence over global ideological goals. Now that the burden of the “War on Terrorism” has been taken over by America, allies of convenience are looking at each other warily.

    But America and Europe (as Kagan explains, the success of the European Union is proof enough that “Europe” can now be considered as a cohesive entity) are dealing with this era in vastly different fashions. America’s thinking is being influenced by its military strength and its economic power, much like Europe’s thinking is being affected by its lack of military strength and its own version of economic success. The tools dictate the ways to perform the work and this has substantial implications in the way those two entities approach conflicts and dangers. If Europe can’t field an effective army, it will depend on economic and diplomatic negotiation to develop a mutually acceptable settlement. If America has unstoppable destructive power, it will try to fix a problem through overwhelming force before bothering with other options.

    But it doesn’t stop there: While America is increasingly willing to use power, Europe seems equally complacent in assuming that the United States will come in and solve everyone’s problems. Hence the lack of progress on the notion of unified European armed forces. Europe, in some ways, thinks of itself as beyond history, as living in a sort of postmodern paradise.

    Kagan takes great care to point out that this kind of thinking is not recent, nor has it been precipitated uniquely by the inauguration of the Bush Administration or the attacks of September 11, 2001. While the Clinton administration may have soft-pedalled America’s growing hegemony after the fall of the USSR, it established the bases of its successor’s unilateralism. Similarly, Europe’s insistence on multilateralism is an entirely consistent response with past decisions, including the formation of NATO. Then there’s the trifling detail that America is now acting like European powers did when they had power; the players may have changed, but the tactics certainly haven’t. It just depends on who has the most weapons at any given moment.

    This book doesn’t think small. Barring catastrophe or singularity, it’s a roadmap to the likely geopolitics of the early twenty-first century. Reading it is like placing the last pieces in an especially difficult puzzle. With clear prose and lucid examples, Kagan manages to link together past events, policy decisions, social trends and news items. Time will tell if it’s a truly important book, but at this moment it reads like one of the most compelling explanations of the way things are at the moment. It’s a perfect tool for anyone looking at international affairs, and can be applied to a surprising number of current events.

    There are a few objections, mind you; America’s trend toward self-centred isolationism is not particularly well-debunked (though Kagan does attempt to do so rather than ignore it) and there seems to be a lack of acknowledgement at the economic dimension of power and paradise. It’s unclear whether US military superiority can be maintained without massive amounts of foreign investment, and whether this money flow can be sustained even as foreign investors are figuring out the extent of American hegemony –not to mention the fact that they are the ones paying for it. (More speculative commentators are welcome to ponder whether America has finally put conventional warfare out of financial reach for everyone else. Wouldn’t that be a kickin’ application of lassez-faire market forces? An American monopoly on war!) Finally, the book may offer a cogent thesis of what is happening, but it’s not as successful in explaining what can happen next.

    But those are small quibbles. Letting aside the fact that the book is a pure delight to read and understand, its worth is obvious, because it just makes sense. It’s consistent with the evening news: Doesn’t Europe’s relationship toward American power also reflect the attitude of smaller states such as, say, Canada? Granted, Of Paradise and Power doesn’t have the eerily predictive aura of the original article… but chances are that over the next few years, we’ll see plenty of empirical proof for Kagan’s assertions. For better or for worse. Expect this book to be a fixture of political science courses for a while, and the precursor to other work expanding its central thesis.

  • Mystic River (2003)

    Mystic River (2003)

    (In theaters, January 2004) This is a film that, yes, revolves around a murder investigation. Cops discover the body, accumulate clues, interrogate suspects and eventually catch the killer. But where Mystic River leaves more conventional crime thrillers behind is in how it doesn’t limit itself to just a genre story: By focusing on the victim and the impact of her death on friends and family, writer Brian Helgeland gives all the necessary material to director Clint Eastwood to craft a film with more ambitious goals. The result may not be perfect (the pacing is a bit too slow, and the ending is intentionally frustrating) but it’s still a good film. The cast is impressive (it’s hard to pick a favourite performance when you’ve got Sean Penn, Kevin Bacon, Tim Robbins and Lawrence Fishburne to choose from) and the investigation moves at a delicious pace. What’s not so compelling is the drama side of the equation, which beats up viewers over the head over and over again with the same points, symbolism and torpid pacing. Ironically enough, much of the same story could have been told without the childhood abuse tale that frames the film. The ending takes a quick turn toward tragedy as not all the guilty are punished and not all the innocents are given justice. But it’s a film with a lot of content, and some of it is bound to hit even as some manages to miss the target. Not bad.

  • Love Actually (2003)

    Love Actually (2003)

    (In theaters, January 2004) You don’t have to be a screenwriter to appreciate the achievement that is Love Actually, but it helps: It’s hard enough to juggle one or two plotlines that anyone with the guts to try to keep seven or eight such stories going at the same time must be congratulated for the effort. Not all subplots are as equally effective, but it doesn’t matter very much when they’re all wrapped in layers of such sugary holiday sweetness. Writer/Directory Richard Curtis succeeds more than he fails in producing a superior romantic comedy, one that is as funny as it is uplifting. He’s helped with a cast of stars (Hugh Grant, Liam Neeson and Colin Firth are as good as always), judicious pacing and a hip sensibility: I’m surely not the only one to find it very interesting that standing up to an “American bully” president would come across as a plot point worth cheering for. Rarely has there been such an effective holiday romantic comedy. One one level, Love Actually is pure manipulation; on the other, it’s truly effective. Bring the whole family or snuggle with your loved one, enjoy the minimalist elegance of the script or indulge in the unabashed sentimentality of it all.

  • Lost In Translation (2003)

    Lost In Translation (2003)

    (In theaters, January 2004) It happens once in a whileit once in a while: a low-budget film, helmed by someone somehow known to critics, featuring a veteran actor doing something different. Add to that some “naturalistic” cinematography, almost accidental directing, a paucity of dialogue and an unconventional bittersweet conclusion and you get an instant favourite amongst real critics. Meanwhile, general audiences and wannabe critics like myself are likely to remain unimpressed. There is, to be fair, a lot to like about Lost In Translation: Bill Murray’s hangdog melancholy is well-exploited, Scarlett Johansson is huggable and the various difficulties they having in coming to term with Japanese culture are a lot of fun to witness. (Heck, the culture shock alone is almost worth a viewing by itself, despite my own reservations about the rest of the film) But as the movie drags on to its conclusion, it’s hard to avoid thinking that two hours are a long time in which to tell something that doesn’t happen. Many scenes just drag on and on, not exactly helped by the overindulgent editing and Sofia Coppola’s approximate directing. The cinematography lacks crispness and the dialogues are in need of some further deliberation, but the languid pacing is by far the film’s worst characteristic. Halfway though the film, I had a mini-epiphany about realism versus polish in filmmaking, and the reasons why my vote was firmly on the unnatural side, but it didn’t seem as convincing once the credits rolled. Maybe I’ll revisit it one day, but one thing is for sure: There’s not much of a reason to watch this film again. It’s OK, and it’s likely to appeal far more to older viewers. Oh, and Academy voters. Go figure.

  • Turbulence, John J. Nance

    Jove, 2002, 405 pages, C$10.99 mmpb, ISBN 0-515-13486-4

    Civil aviation has changed a lot since the jet-set era of the fifties. Lower ticket prices coupled with the airlines’ insatiable lust for higher profits have made modern air travel less comfortable and more stressful. “Air rage” has entered the vocabulary, reflecting the distasteful truth that planes will still take you to destination, but in unpleasant ways that may be unacceptable to an increasing proportion of passengers. As if that wasn’t enough, the demonstrated propensity of terrorists to use airliners as guided missiles has tightened the screws even further on the pressure boiler of civil aviation.

    While aviation thrillers have existed for decades (reaching their height in popularity during the seventies, following the 1970 film adaptation of Arthur Hailey’s Airport), one of the best things about Turbulence is how uniquely modern it feels. Here, there is no glamour left in the cattle-like industry of air transport: Passengers are herded in uncomfortable planes, abused by airlines staff, ill-served by incompetent personnel, plunged in the middle of an overburdened airspace control system and at the constant mercy of a paranoid US government only too happy to eliminate security risks. Take a good long look at the 2002 publication date, because this book couldn’t have been published any earlier.

    In this particular case, Turbulence‘s Meridian Flight Six is -thanks to the author- custom-loaded with a powder keg of resentment: a heart surgeon with a deep hatred for the airline that killed his wife, a sadistic senior flight attendant, an insecure captain, rowdy passengers, unsafe equipment and plenty of aggravations. The first leg of the flight, from Chicago to London, is bad enough. But when things go really wrong over Africa on the way to Cape Town, it all spins out of control: The passengers mutiny, the planes is forced to land on a jungle airstrip and the US government becomes convinced that terrorists armed with chemical weapons have taken control of the aircraft. When the plane doubles back toward Europe, fighter jets are mobilized to shoot it down before it can do any harm.

    Nance is an old hand when it comes to thrillers (most who recognize his name will do so in his capacity of the author of the novel from which was adapted the TV series Pandora’s Clock, but he’s written ten other thrillers) and it shows: Turbulence is an ever-increasing exercise in heightening tension, as bad attitudes aboard the plane translate in small spats, leading up to more forceful arguments, physical confrontation and -ultimately- a good deal of violence. Meanwhile, the US government is confronted with mounting evidence of terrorist activities and is forced to take action against what it’s perceiving as a clear and immediate danger. While the various elements of Turbulence‘s suspense are a bit outlandish in how they all converge, there’s no denying that the result is a satisfying crescendo.

    It helps, of course, that Nance has got the traditional thriller style down pat. The characters are developed just enough to make them sympathetic. It takes a while, but eventually all the pieces of the plot have a place in the action, and the result is quite a readable novel. As the clock ticks down to a conclusion, Turbulence delivers satisfying suspense and entertainment. Unfortunate readers struck down by a sudden cold half-way through the novel may end up having plane-related nightmares.

    It’s not great art (the prose can be clunky at times) nor is it likely to be memorable, but it’s likely to be optioned by a studio any time soon. It it would be too presumptuous to flag the book as a call for reform in the airline industry (Meridian’s behaviour is a touch extreme, shall we say), but there’s no doubt that the picture described in this novel -however hyperbolic- reflects what many are thinking about modern civilian flight. It’s a fine line between affordable air travel and dangerous air travel; here’s hoping that Turbulence‘s suspense becomes increasingly unbelievable as things evolve.

  • Hung Hei Kwun: Siu Lam ng zou [The Legend Of The Red Dragon] (1994)

    Hung Hei Kwun: Siu Lam ng zou [The Legend Of The Red Dragon] (1994)

    (On DVD, January 2004) If nothing else, martial arts fans should watch this film for the incredible pre-opening credit action sequence, a deeply impressive duel involving spears and burning logs waved around like sticks. Great stuff, especially given that it combines the film’s two biggest strengths: a crew that knows what it’s doing when it comes to kung-fu and fantastic images that makes this such a beautiful film to watch. Many of the subsequent scenes are quite good, but few of them attain the impact of the crazy opening sequence. It’s not such a beautiful film when it comes to the dialogue, though: As with many Asian films, the emotional registers of the film keep switching abruptly, the acting is a lot less subtle than Western movies and the dialogue is often of the on-the-nose variety with scarce place for nuances. Jet Li’s performance is dubbed in a fashion that brings to mind the worst William Shatner imper!son!nations!, though it’s unclear as to whether the flaw lies in the performance or the dub. Alas, the bare-bones DVD only features an English dub, not the original audio track. Very disappointing, even though the rest of the transfer is flawless. Of interest to martial arts fans, mostly.

  • Donnie Darko (2001)

    Donnie Darko (2001)

    (On DVD, January 2004) While I rather enjoyed this film, I’m not as enthusiastic about it than some of my esteemed fellow critics specializing in SF/Fantasy films. The main reason being that for all of its science-fictional trappings, Donnie Darko remains a work of fantasy, not speculative science fiction. The deliberately weird ending makes sort of a superficial sense, but doesn’t actually end up completing the causal loop suggested by the film’s fascination with time-travel. Still, even with that sour taste in mouth, there’s a lot to recommend here, from the tortured performance of Jake Gyllenhaal as the eponymous protagonist to the delightfully twisted visuals (have you ever seen an uglier rabbit?), darkly funny passages and acerbic dialogues. (Heck, even Drew Barrymore looks positively attractive in her goth intellectual role) It’s almost constantly interesting, even though the interest stems from the mystery and the mystery is simply sidelined at the end to make place for a weepy finale that is supposed to make everything seems all that much more significant. Eh. At least the rest of the film works well. The DVD contains a bunch of extras that were simply too numerous to review before it was time to return it. Don’t you hate it when that happens?