Movie Review: "Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice" (2016)

© Warner Brothers

Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice lacks any vision, whatsoever. A tepid beginning of the franchise to come.

Sometimes (usually not for me, but for some) there's nothing more that needs to be said. In a story that struggles to create a troubled conflict that it didn't earn—and inject a backstory as if it was something we'd all experienced—we're left with a limp, tired battle saga between two of the most beloved characters ever written: Bruce Wayne (Ben Affleck) and Clark Kent (Henry Cavill). I'm not sure where those guys were, but they were nowhere to be found here. How director Zach Snyder managed to ruin not only them, but likely the most interesting villain in the DC Universe, Lex Luthor (played like a sniveling, spitting wackadoo by Jesse Eisenberg), is an absolute wonder to behold. That may be for some, but it wasn't for me.

Let's cumulatively pretend this film never happened, and assume Justice League will go in a very different direction. Deal?

Rating: ★½ / 5 stars

Blog, Interrupted

It's been exactly two weeks since I've posted, probably the longest span of silence since I kicked off this blog (again) in 2014. Ramp ups at work and personal life planning (and endless travel) meant putting my writing on the back-burner for a short time. For those who've been checking in, however, I haven't forgotten you.

My writing draft queue is filling up with uncrafted thoughts on movies, tattoos, and food, things I'm gearing up to talk more about, and I can't wait to give them a polish and share them with you. Even discussing the epic cluster**** of this weekend's movie releases will have to wait just a few more days. Bear with me, friends, and since I don't get the opportunity to say it all that often, thank you infinity for visiting.

xx

(image via Rosa Tammaro Photography)

Movie Review: "10 Cloverfield Lane" (2016)

© Paramount Pictures

In what can only described as an "accidental sequel," one connected to Matt Reeves' brilliant 2008 found-footage monster film, Cloverfield, by only the merest of whispers, Dan Trachtenberg and superstar Bad Robot producer, J.J. Abrams, have delivered a masterful psychological thriller in 10 Cloverfield Lane. It's a project that may have been better off with no connection to its popular predecessor, if only to bottle the mysteries that lie beneath; or rather, outside. Originally a 'spec script' floating around Hollywood under the title The Cellar, writer Damien Chazelle scooped up the claustrophobic mind-meld and eventually morphed it into the loose Cloverfield universe feature hitting theaters this weekend. What we get is a superbly-directed amalgamation of Saw meets Room... with an ending you will absolutely see coming.

While escaping the city and the personal trials of life, Michelle (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) makes her way through the Louisiana countryside when she's run off the road, flipping her car and losing consciousness. When she wakes up, she finds herself in a sealed, concrete bunker deep underground owned by Howard (John Goodman), a conspiracy theorist and doomsday prepper who claims to have saved her from not only the car wreck, but a devastating attack that has killed the entire population and left the outside world uninhabitable. More than a little skeptical and determined to find a way to escape, Michelle befriends their only other bunker-mate, the simple and trusting Emmett (John Gallagher Jr.), to help her uncover the truth about Howard... and find out what's really happening on the surface.

This movie should never have been linked, in any way shape or form, to Cloverfield, much as I'm desperate for a true sequel. The story purposefully separates us from any notion about what is really out there, an aspect of the film's tension that is vital to the effectiveness of the story. But we do know, because we saw the original (if you haven't, you'd probably really enjoy this movie). We walk into the theater with our own preconceptions, completely overriding the external mystery that Michelle is clamoring to uncover. Now, it would be hugely detrimental if that were the only mystery there was to unearth. The locked-room/confined brilliance of the rest of the film requires nothing from the events occurring outside; it's all about the delusional truths swirling around Howard inside his apocalypse den.



Mary Elizabeth Winstead is the fighter we all hope we'd be in a situation like this. A captive guilted into giving thanks to the man who holds the keys to the lock—regardless of how justified you come to believe he may be—would be enough to gut the best of us and leave us grateful for having a couple VHS options to choose from. But Michelle never loses her cool; she's always working through the problem right in front of her, and unlike most heroines who inexplicably take a lifetime to make the only decision that could save their life, she never hesitates. She takes risks, a lot of them, and the danger is palpable—even when we're unsure where the real danger lies. Winstead is a skilled performer and never lets Michelle devolve into frantic freak-outs that would give the whole game away. It's refreshing to root for someone who not only deserves your respect—she earns it.

Then there's John Goodman. Goodness me, John Goodman. His portrayal of an odd-duck doomsday prepper so unhinged—swinging between generous caregiver, domineering prison guard, and wheezing psychopath in the span of one spaghetti dinner—is the thing of legends. There's a dark and complicated narrative happening in the twisty-parts of his mind that we're never quite privy to, which makes every one of his reactions throughout the film hugely unpredictable. Together, Winstead and Goodman never allow their characters to be at ease with one another; for Michelle, this is intentional. Trust is fickle, but for Howard, experience has not been kind, and try as he might, the loose screws just won't secure in place long enough so he can let his guard down.

The best compliment to the intensity of the primary storyline is the score by Bear McCreary. Like a long, never-ending violin note, threatening never to break unless the tension does, the music is a combination of lingering orchestral interludes and jarring crashes that keep us in a constant state of unease. Interspersed with jukebox favorites that make happy and light what is truly dark and terrifying, McCreary's moody creation steals the show. The reveals are more tangible and the suspicions are more urgent, and it's all thanks to him and those sharp string stings (try saying that 5 times fast).

While I'm attempting to avoid spoilers as best I can, it's a sad truth that this rock-solid concept suffers from an underwhelming and disassociated ending. Trachtenberg and Abrams' vision for an expansion of this world was not only unnecessary, it wound up actually hurting the film. Thankfully, though, up until that point, there is nary a falter; from the acting to the direction to the editing, putting aside the inevitability of the final moments would be in the best interest of every viewer so that you can see how exceptionally the rest comes together. Believe me, you'll have a far better time if you forget that they dared to call this Cloverfield.

Rating: ★★★½ / 5 stars

Movie Review: "Zootopia" (2016)

© Walt Disney Animation Studios

It shouldn't surprise anyone that the biggest release this last weekend went to an animated movie full of fluffy animals, perfectly thought up by the masters at Disney Animation. In what could be considered the best non-princess/feature film formula the House of Mouse has conjured up since The Rescuers, Zootopia is a true procedural at heart, and the possibilities are endless for new and exciting stories injected into this beautiful and touching world. Like the long-running detective shows ruling primetime, there will never not be a case that this rag-tag team of polar opposites can't dive into with gusto, and as a result, Disney has set itself up for one helluva potential movie franchise.

Ever since Judy Hopps (Ginnifer Goodwin) was a little bunny in school, she dreamed of becoming a police officer. Even though no rabbit had ever been appointed one, she was gonna be the first. When she achieves her dream, venturing off to the thriving mammal metropolis of Zootopia—a bustling city where all residents, from the biggest predator to the smallest prey, live in harmony—and leaving her family's carrot farm behind, Judy's idealism is tested when none of the other hulking, tough-animal cops take her, or her small size, seriously. Relegated to parking duty, Judy tries to make the best of her situation until she meets con-artist, Nick Wilde (Jason Bateman), a smooth-talking fox who may be the key to uncovering one of her precinct's biggest unsolved mysteries. Determined to prove her worth, Judy bands together with Nick to find the truth and get the respect she knows she deserves—but she may not be prepared for what she finds, or how it may change her view of her new Utopian home.

The geniuses at Disney considered every possibility as they built this creative and innovative world, working very hard to make it seem like every detail wasn't there on purpose. It's reminiscent of Wreck-It Ralph, in that way, injecting every nook and cranny with something to see, something that adds depth to every creature, and every building on every street in every borough. From doors to escalators to temperature control, they really did think of everything. The vastness of the animal kingdom, all consolidated into the confines of this bustling city, is really something to behold. You could watch this movie ten times and still see something new, and I'm sure the Disney-aficionados are already well on their way there.

A few quirks in the animation stand out, most notably in wider shots when characters on the periphery are moving or interacting, an occasional stutter here or there. Not distracting in the least, but the entire construction of the world isn't quite as clean as it could have been. In a close up, the view is flawless, and that's where much of the story focuses. It's only in the sweeping views of the Zootopian territories where the wide shots become rich with detail. Those are the money shots, and extra care was clearly taken. But a howling wolf on a foggy night at the outskirts of the city? Some rough frames that most would never notice and those who do will easily ignore.



Thematically is where Zootopia really shines. The film puts a mirror up to what ails society and forces the adults in the audience to take notice. And it isn't subtle. Stereotypes, prejudice, fear-tactics, and privilege build the foundation of conflict within this complex narrative, where predators aren't trusted merely because of the way they look, and prey are undermined and talked down to at every turn. It all is very complex, far more than it needed to be for a buddy-cop film about a city full of animals wearing clothes where the biggest laughs come from a sloth working at the DMV that moves—wait for it... super slow.

The plot itself is relevant and represents a myriad of issues facing the real world today, told through the eyes of an optimistic rabbit with her own cross of prejudice to bear. This concept of 'prejudice'—something adults have a hard time understanding as it is—framed in a way that children might just be able to grasp, not to mention how privilege can permeate a society so deeply, it is hardly noticed by those who possess it.

Nobody knows how to cast voice talent like Disney, and finally someone gave the bright light that is Ginnifer Goodwin a starring role. As Judy Hopps, she's manic and hopeful and impatient, and just delusional enough to believe she might make a difference. Then there is her counterpart, Nick Wilde, who couldn't be more perfectly voiced by Bateman. He is the yin to her yang, the pessimistic realist with a chip on his shoulder, and Bateman's dry delivery gives the insensitive jokester his humor, while making us believe he may just have a few soft spots.

Together, Bateman and Goodwin bring energy and camaraderie to the pairing. They have an 'early Castle, Kate Beckett/Rick Castle' dynamic that has an even greater level of respect and friendship than the TV detective team. The connection happens quickly here, but the movie earns every moment of trust in their relationship and never takes for granted the underlying social conflict that exists between them, as rabbit and fox. The result is an emotional gut-punch that speaks knowingly to the more mature audiences, all the while incorporating a fantastic soundtrack and enough fluffy sheep to make the kiddos squee with glee.

Rating: ★★★★ / 5 stars

Movie Review: "Pride & Prejudice & Zombies" (2016)

© Lionsgate

There aren't many film adaptations that are as scrutinized as those for Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. Hollywood has the BBC's 1995 mini-series starring Colin Firth to thank for that. But with every iteration, we find that, so long as directors and/or writers are telling the story in a new and interesting (or visually different) way, audiences will still applaud. After all, this is Elizabeth Bennett and Fitzwilliam Darcy, we're talking about. The BBC version had Mr. Firth, the 2005 version had director Joe Wright, and 2016's version has zombies. I guess we're getting a new one of these every ten years. Based on Seth Grahame-Smith's book of the same name, and his creative take on the Georgian romance, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, is as faithful to the source material as adaptations get. Particularly parody ones.

The five accomplished Bennett sisters have spent their lives in training to protect the zombie-plagued British countryside. Now of marrying age, the headstrong Elizabeth Bennett (Lily James), along with older, quieter sister, Jane (Bella Heathcote), are forced to enter society in search of husbands, at the behest of their dizzying mother (Sally Phillips), despite their father Mr. Bennett's (Charles Dance) hopes for them to pursue zombie-hunting. When Jane catches the eye of the wealthy and hapless Mr. Bingley (Douglas Booth), Elizabeth finds herself face to face with his unpleasant best friend, Colonel Darcy (Sam Riley), a famous and snobbish killer of the undead. As romance blossoms between Jane and Bingley, Darcy attempts to quell his confounding feelings for Elizabeth, who despises him—a near impossible task when he comes to see how she can fend for herself on the battlefield. As the country is descended upon by a zombie apocalypse, the two must put aside their differences if they hope to survive the war and save the world.

Lily James plays tough and soft to perfection. She doesn't have any hard features, which makes her very unassuming in a role like this. It's why her turn as Cinderella this past year was so believable. Where the film doesn't quite hit the mark is in her on-screen dynamic with Sam Riley's Darcy. The interactions between these two characters, both spoken and unspoken, are absolutely vital to the success of this story, and while each of them embodies their characters nicely, the back and forth between them is missing a key component: chemistry. Sure, Riley pulls off the brooding, across-the-room stare, and James has no issues affirming her defiance in needing a man.

But the film inherently works against the build up of tension, particularly in the famous scene where Darcy first, reluctantly, proposes to Elizabeth (spoiler alert?... ugh, read a book!). The most important part of here is that he wants to touch her, but he can't. HE CAN'T. But how does P&P&Z handle this scene? The frustration devolves into, not unspoken pain, but hand-to-hand combat. Enjoyable to watch! But all the sexual tension built up to that point? Dissolves in an instance. Once Elizabeth straddles his face to pin him down and Darcy pops the buttons off her shirt, it's over. We can all go home. The romance isn't completely lost, but the little bit of magic that Austen fans live for slips just out of reach.



The oddest piece of this plot is not that it's full of Regency zombies. No, that all works quite well, actually. In a world where the rich study Japanese fighting and the "poor" can only afford lowly Chinese martial arts... I'm left wondering, Uhhhh... huh?!? That any of these people traveled any great distance beyond the confines of their county is questionable already, but that they're making nonchalant trips to study in the Orient for long stretches of time while still having the wherewithal to concern themselves with boys rather than diphtheria? I don't buy it. Thankfully, the movie kinda doesn't either, playing the whole thing as a bit of a society status joke, and it makes for plenty of "Up yours!" moments between Elizabeth Bennett and those who aim to demean her for only knowing dumb ol' Shaolin Kung Fu. What a plebeian, amirite?

Oh, and we learned something else super vital to our survival. Social balls are zombie-bait. I mean, duh, of course they are, everybody knows this. So one would wonder why civilized people in this society would continue to throw them. Finding a suitable husband is simply more important than avoiding zombies, I suppose. Knowing that truth, there is something inherently comical about all this that the film barely needs to work hard to achieve. The jokes tumble about with ease, situational as they are, and the entire concept benefits from the commitment to the parody.

The combat makes all the pieces, the ones that work and the ones that don't, come together, because there's just nothing more fun than watching these girls suit up, slip on their knife sheaths, and kick a whole lotta zombie ass. I wish more British society characters solved their problems using a katana. They're not unlike the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in this way, as each sister has her specialty weapon and skill set—but in the end, it's Lily James as the level-headed Elizabeth who grounds the entire film, making us root for everyone's survival. The climax falls apart more than a little bit, particularly as we learn the truth about who the enemy really is, but the initial set-up pays off in spades, and we're rewarded with everything one could have hoped for from a film like this: a wedding. And a blood bath.

Rating: ★★★ / 5 stars