A Month at the Movies - Jun. 2013

Also, it was unnecessarily dark and dwelled quite a bit too much into religion for my taste. What's the harm in keeping it children friendly? Why is it that whenever someone, anyone, everyone gets a free reign, the first thing they do is go dark? or stray terribly off-course? Don't get me wrong, I enjoy dark films, but since Curse was a quite light-hearted, family-friendly entertainment, a dark and violent sequel wasn't called for.

Mind you, I said almost, and the barrier that prevents me from writing "all" is, as you all know, Johnny Depp and his wildly eccentric performance as Jack Sparrow. There's a "captain" there somewhere, but I can't find it. Now this is how a PotC film should be done, fun, exciting, funny, great battle scenes, and one tight story with brilliant script-writing. I kid you not, but this installment actually increased my vocabulary. Belligerent, homunculus and perfidious have all entered my vocabulary. Now I just need the right reason to use them. Also bosun, but I already knew that; this film confirmed the meaning for me.

Superhero movies, to me, are serious psychology studies, because we're talking about a man and a mask here. One's real and the other's an alter ego. Enough time passes and they both get mixed up. Sure, you might say that Norman Osborne / Green Goblin kinda proves the above point in the film, but you will also notice they don't dwell on it. All they show is a man, already half-mad, descending into further madness. I mean, there's absolutely no psychological aspects to it. The closest we ever get to it is where Spider-Man has to either rescue Mary Jane or a tram car full of children. There's a sense of morality in it, but it's so thinly veiled, and it's further marred by the hilarious comments made by pedestrians - who throw fruits to Green Goblin. This film's great, but there's no wonder why its sequel is so widely appreciated, because there's heavy use of psychological themes in it, a great deal of morality and understanding.

Shouldn't their lips be moving off-sync, as if two films of different language were dubbed over each other? Anyway, whatever the case is, maybe I'm reading it wrong, but like I said, John Carter isn't wildly innovative nor entertaining but it does boast pretty good talent, though.

It was both an annoyance and a relief that Barsoomians acts the same way as Jarsoomians do. They have their betrayals, their love stories, their gladiator fights, their racial / tribe segregation, their Mario & Peach vs. Bowser complex, and what not. Is this how our Solar System is? Full of aggression and repetition? All the -sooms are the one and same, except for the skin colour?

Look at the scene where he tries to save a kid from a burning building. Even though he's a superhero, he has rejected the idea, hasn't allowed his alter-ego to surface in a long time, and because of his he's unable to break down the door and get affected by the flames. You are who you are as long as you think you are. Stop thinking, and you unbecome that person. Not that you become an entirely new person, you just unbecome that personality. It's like filling or emptying a glass of water. If you fill it, it unbecomes an empty glass, but a glass nonetheless - and vice versa. The same goes for Dr. Otto Octavious, who becomes Doc Ock, the new terror in town. His mask is a metaphorical one. Unlike Green Goblin in the previous film who can't seem to remember his maniacal phrase at times, Doc Ock has rejected his once civil and honest man lifestyle. When the webhead knocks some sense into him, Doc Ock goes back to himself - a sort of reverse of what happens with Peter Parker. Hence this is the reason why he says "I will not die a monster" before, well, dying.

But don't worry, this film is probably the least confusing film you've ever seen, although it does try its best to catch you off guard. Heroic bloodshed and explosions aside, I liked the fact how the main focus of the film's spotlight was on the two characters, and not on the surroundings. Another other film, or any other director, would've made the specific places the characters find themselves in full characters of their own. Take a look at Shawshank, Green Mile and The Great Escape: the prisons too are characters. But the one shown here, although very ingenious, is so briefly shown, that it didn't even feel like it was there. I'm complaining, but in fact complimenting. The film is not a prison film, and long, extended scenes of the tedious, signature prison life would've slowed the film down.

As much as I found the story unappealing, I found the aforementioned couple to be even less impressive. Good looks in hand, Will and Sylvia seemed to me like an amateurish painted couple come to life. They felt plastic, cartoonish even. Mind you, I'm talking about the characters and how they were written for the screen; not the actors and how they portrayed them. Sylvia is too precious to be acting like a gun-moll, and Will is too hard-boiled to be running around like a crazed squirrel. Had he been one of those bloody-revenge guys with snarling expressions, then I would've been fine with it. In all, good looks, unconvincing characteristics.

From the performances, Justin Timberlake delivered a somewhat charismatic performance as Will Salas. He's still a long-shot away from becoming a great actor, but seeing his recent acting successes - Social Network and Bad Teacher - he's on his way on becoming the next Will Smith; or at least in the rendering stage of it.

The plot is nothing original, but the way the film snakes around it is energetic, angry, powerful, and top of all, impressive right down to boot. True, the film does take time to come to its pace, but it's only natural. Given how modern dramatic-action films tend to go off like an atom bomb right from the first minute, and how every cast - even the villains - are incredibly handsome looking, The French Connection plays out like a slow-defusing dynamite, and has characters that very well could be the cinematic equivalent of Marcus Fenix and his company; damn ugly, but damn professional - no shadow of a smile, no sly smirk to the camera. Check out Bill Hickman: aquiline professionalism that cannot be matched, especially by modern standards, no matter how hard they try.

The inclusion of mermaids turned me off the most, as they were poor excuse for nothing more than just general excitement among male viewers. Delicious eye candies so that us males can deviate our eyes from the (usually) fully clothed Angelica, and also that we stick to the very end, in case we get a notorious *ahem*nipple shot*ahem* - which we don't get. Adding salt to wound is the fact that they made one mermaid strangely philosophic. Seriously? Make them like Ariel, you know, rebellious, red-headed, with a huge man as their father. But no, instead we get walkway models who try hard to cough up the right expressions... usually failing!

As much lame the film was, the light bulb was shining strongly in the villains department. Villains have always been a strong factor of the series

This is a metaphor for cinema / screen itself. Behind every window there's a story; behind every reel there's a story waiting to be seen. Jeff is not a character, but us, the audience. His "television" or "cinema" screen(s) is / are the windows, just as the movie is our window to a story. His expressions and actions mirror that of ours. The more the film progresses, the more his "glance" becomes ugly and one-minded. At the climax when Miss Lonelyhearts is contemplating suicide, Jeff nonchalantly ignores her and instead focuses solely on Mr. Thorwald; thus reducing Miss Lonelyhearts to a shadow, a blurry background. It pretty much correlates our determination to know the truth and not get distracted by anything else. To sum it all up, we're pretty much spying on a security guard by a CCTV camera who is in turn watching others by several CCTV cameras on several screens - at once!

Strangers is loaded to the brim with legendary moments. When Bruno pursues after Miriam, the name on his boat reads Pluto - the god of the underworld in Greek mythology. Once Miriam and her boyfriends and Bruno enter the cave, Bruno's shadow seemingly 'eats' her alive; foreshadowing her death. Scary in its brilliance, mesmerizing in its execution. But perhaps the single most greatest moment is when Bruno strangles Miriam to death. The murder is reflected in her eye-glasses, which had fallen off in the strangulation. Also symbolic is the method of execution. Minutes prior to Miriam's death, Guy angrily shouts that he would love to strangle her. The very next shot sees Bruno's hands, a sign as to show that somehow these two men are seemingly connected; or at least one is.

In this film it's important, because very early on it emphasizes the important distinction between this film and other buddy-cop ones. Lethal Weapon, Rush Hour, Se7en and others pit together two polar opposite personalities against each other, generally for comedic effect. Bon Cop, Bad Cop is that, but this time the missing pieces of the puzzle are from the same jigsaw puzzle.

The two cops, tough in their own ways, likable in their own manners, have nothing in common, except maybe that they're both divorced and that they're cops. With rapid fire transiting from English to French, their conversations, normal or heated, clash like two sabres.

The introduction of Winston sets off vibes of impending doom; a disaster that is confirmed by making the third-half randomly somewhat-religious and fully-irritating. By that mark, the film is decent enough, but it quickly loses its focus and becomes borderline-irritating, like someone not closing the bathroom door or a fly buzzing too close to your ear.

The above point is not the only reason for me disliking this film. Though laxly funny, it was too deadpan and pokerfaced for me to thoroughly enjoy it. Unlike most other comedies, especially the ones of the mid 90's, which have the occasional jab at being clever or smart, Ghostbusters doesn't employ anything like that, and instead relies on improvisation - the reason for the static effect of the dialogues and the virtually non-existent chemistry between the trio.