Man of Steel

It’s a bird! It’s a plane! No, it’s a reboot!

Most people will be pretty familiar with the story: Young Clark Kent (Henry Cavill) from a modest farm in Smallville, Kan., discovers he’s not from this world at all. He’s actually from a far off, long-gone planet called Krypton, different enough from Earth that he possesses super powers when he’s here. Clark learns to hone his powers and blend in with modern society, while still fighting to save mankind from the invading kryptonian General Zod (Michael Shannon, Take Shelter, Mud).

“Man of Steel” seeks to update the time-honored tale of Clark Kent, also known as “Superman,” although he’s only called that once in the film. Gone are the days of golden-age comic book manliness or Christopher Reeve’s sheepish jokes; Clark Kent is grounded in 21st century realism, and with great power comes great responsibility.

Cavill, the latest Superman in a long line of supermen, gives a sense of quiet, stoic realism to the man who has to shoulder that great responsibility, similar to Daniel Craig’s James Bond. He manages to do the boy scout routine without making it contrived or boring, but while he’s a collected and promising new hero, his development is a little swamped by all the action going on around him.

With the reboot comes a more thorough look at the politics, history, and destruction of Krypton, as well as what fuels Shannon’s Zod’s disappointing one-note scowl. It gives the movie’s first half some dynamic pacing by jumping from Krypton to grown up, wayward Clark, with flashbacks to important chapters in his growth. But by the second half, “Man of Steel” has become your standard summer blockbuster, waging battles of mass destruction across metropolitan cityscapes with no thought to insurance claims.

The film gets a bit full with the creative approach to Superman’s origins; all that complexity begins to feel a bit mind-numbing for a two-and-a-half hour movie aiming to be grittier than its Marvel counterpart. For instance, while Amy Adams (Enchanted, The Muppets, Trouble With the Curve) brings some well-earned spunk to the role of Lois Lane, her dynamic with Clark consists of fewer quippy conversations and more severe exchanges between reporter and source. It’s an interesting new method to tackle Superman and, if the writing weren’t so uneven, might make it one of the better superhero sagas.

“Man of Steel,” like most Superman incarnations, gets a little bogged down in its commentary of the kindness of mankind and its capacity for good. It’s not as skillful with its political commentary as, say, “The Dark Knight” either. But it’s not easy to take Superman, pinnacle of the boy scout archetype, and make him interesting to watch. DC probably isn’t done with its latest entry to the superhero franchise, but hopefully the next one will focus a bit more on the man and a bit less on the super.

The verdict: Much like its titular character, the movie is a bit bulky, but it gets the job done.

American History X Rated

American History: X Rated

In 2010, theaters welcomed “Blue Valentine”, a film that follows a married couple, Cindy (Michelle Williams) and Dean (Ryan Gosling), through the beginning and end of their relationship. It is a romantic drama with no violence, nudity, or drug use, so it came as a shock to many people when the film received an NC-17 rating from the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA).

NC-17 ratings can be a kiss of death for movies, even nowadays. Many major theater chains will not carry films that bear NC-17 ratings because they aren’t viable in creating a profit. Newspapers and television networks won’t run ads for them, and they cannot be attended by anyone younger than 17, even with a guardian, severely limiting viewership.

Although the MPAA wouldn’t release the reason for the decision, the media discussing “Blue Valentine” reported that the rating was due to a scene in which Cindy receives oral sex from Dean.  

Industry and movie officials immediately fired back, arguing there was little nudity, and if the characters were reversed it would not have earned the movie such a severe rating. Although the decision was ultimately overturned and “Blue Valentine” went to theaters rated R, it drew attention to the MPAA’s severe rating system and its effect on the work produced.

While the rating system may have started out as a way to inform audiences about inappropriate content, the current system isn’t developed enough to recognize the nuances of questionable subject matter. More often than not, it does more to limit filmmaker creativity through disincentives to use more mature themes than to protect the general public. 

Some filmmakers struggle with editing their content to receive ratings that maintain their works’ profitability. Although the ratings are a voluntary exercise for films and are performed by a private group, movies that don’t take part in the system have a harder time with marketing and theater booking.

Filmmakers are often left to the whim of the MPAA, regardless of the circumstances of the offensive material in film. “The King’s Speech” received an R rating, based purely on a scene in which King George VI (Colin Firth) swears at great length. 

The movie’s director, Tom Hooper, complained the rating was higher than films like “Casino Royale” or “Salt,” both of which feature graphic torture sequences of their main characters. As in the “Blue Valentine” debacle, one scene was enough for the board to push the rating over the top, despite the scene’s importance to the film.

Derek Cianfrance, who directed “Blue Valentine,” said that in his most recent film, “The Place Beyond the Pines,” rated R, he sought to give violence some context in the real world, a quality he feels is missing in violent films and one the rating system often fails to take into account.

“You know you can do so much with violence in movies, and push that R rating as far as it can go,” Cianfrance said. “I was never trying to one-up the viscousness of violence. I wanted to play out the narrative of violence, the aftermath.” 

While the goal of the ratings is to serve as an advisory for parents finding films for their kids, these labels often end up defining a film by its trivial aspects. The number of times someone uses harsh language or drugs or flashes a naughty bit becomes more important than how responsibly the movie handles the themes or behavior. 

“There’s three gunshots in [“The Place Beyond the Pines”] and they actually have an effect,” Cianfrance said. “It’s a narrative effect, and you actually have to live with that effect, death, and absence. [You have to] experience the power the gun has.”

By the time the first model of the current ratings system was developed by the MPAA in the 1960s, it was already behind the times. Similar methods had been put into place in countries like  Australia and the United Kingdom much earlier. There were four ratings: a G for general audiences, M for mature audiences, R for restricted under 16 without parent or guardian, and X for 16 and older only. 

Ultimately the MPAA would change the classification to the standard G, PG, PG-13, R, and NC-17, hoping to better bridge the gap between R and PG and distance its image when the porn industry started to proudly co-opt the X rating. 

Joan Graves, chair of the Classification and Ratings Administration, said in an interview with Time Magazine that NC-17 is given more often to films for violent content than for sexuality, but typically violent movies are edited and released with an R rating. She said the goal of the rating system was to keep censors at bay and monitor the industry’s own content. 

Despite the goals Graves identified, it seems the MPAA usually ends up defining and limiting the work it’s overseeing. The MPAA needs to be more detail-oriented by incorporating and recognizing the context and responsibility behind an act deemed offensive in its ratings. Until the MPAA’s system better reflects the content and narrative of its maturely themed movies, this rating system will not be approved by all audiences. 

[Illustration credit: Joshua Bessex]

Life Of Pi

Ang Lee has already demonstrated his vast versatility as a director ranging from Jane Austen adaptations (Sense and Sensibility), to culturally charged rom coms (The Wedding Banquet), to old school wuxia films (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon), to tragic love dramas (Brokeback Mountain). Now a la Martin Scorcese, Lee makes his foray into the canvas that is 3-D in his treatment of the acclaimed novel, Life of Pi.

Pi follows the narrative of the titular character Piscene “Pi” Patel, a curiously spiritual Indian boy, who suffers a tragic shipwreck, leaving his family dead and himself stranded in a lifeboat with a Bengal Tiger named Richard Parker.
The film is told through the perspective of an adult Pi (Irrfan Khan, Slumdog Millionaire, The Amazing Spiderman), retelling his story to a Canadian writer (Rage Spall, Hot Fuzz, Prometheus). This form of narrative merely serves as a plot device and plays out in a rather predictable fashion. The true artistry occurs during Pi’s 227 day aquatic odyssey with Richard Parker.

If you’ve read the book you know what you’re getting into. The bulk of the movie is Pi on learning to live on the raft with Richard Parker, and similarly to WALL-E, Life of Pi relies heavily on visuals and minimal dialogue. This definitely helps the movie feel the full 2 hours it is, but it sure pulls it off.

Lee has defined himself as one of the most poetic directors of our generation, able to realize intensely human emotions in a multitude of landscapes. Filmed in 3-D, the film takes what Lee already does with a cinematography and embellishes upon his craft on the x, y, and z axis. Lee contrasts a glass-like ocean of vast majesty with a treacherous and claustrophobic lifeboat, illustrating the delicate line between the beautiful and terrifying.

What really sells the film is the complement between the animated Richard Parker and newcomer Suraj Sharma as the adolescent Pi. The sophistication of the tiger’s rendering and Sharma’s commitment to character add up to a believability that places us right in the boat with the two of them. We begin to feel the hope drain from our bodies, and our sanity begin to wane, only to realize that the 500lb bengal tiger is not only our greatest fear, but our greatest anchor to survival.

Pi grapples with spirituality, forcing us to face the enormity of the cosmic energies in the universe, humbling us and realizing our own minuteness. To reconcile with the vast sphere of our existence, narration provides us with a tool to define our lives. Pi demonstrates our subjectivity of a narrative frames how we derive philosophical meaning from events and ultimately how to face each day in the life of Pi.         

 

Flight

After toying around with performance capture for the past decade (The Polar Express, Beowulf, A Christmas Carol) Robert Zemeckis returns to live action films as his canvas of choice.  Zemeckis has demonstrated his versatility as a director, from action-packed blockbusters such as Back to the Future to immense character studies Forrest Gump, Cast Away, and now Flight.    

Flight follows William “Whip” Whitaker (Denzel Washington), an extremely gifted but substance abusing pilot. When the plane starts to malfunction on one of his flights he pulls off a spectacularly miraculous emergency landing.  However, his heroism attracts the attention of not only the media, but of the lawyers smelling alcohol on his breath.    

This film is undoubtedly Denzel Washington’s vehicle. From start to finish Washington delivers an incredibly nuanced and bruising performance of an addict in denial; taking the audience along on every up and down in his journey.  Washington holds brute intensity in his eyes; framing a body so battered and scarred that only alcohol can provide an appropriate anesthesia.  The layers to Whip’s character are so natural you almost can’t believe it’s acting.

While Denzel is the focus of this movie, there’s quality acting all around. John Goodman (Argo, The Big Lebowski) is delightful as always as Whip’s drug dealer and best friend, Don Cheadle (Iron Man 2, Ocean’s 11, Hotel Rwanda) is underutilized as the ace lawyer, and Kelly Reily (Sherlock Holmes: Game of Shadows, Me and Orson Welles) sells her American accent and manages to keep up with Washington.
Unfortunately, the film climaxes about 30 minutes in.  The panic and turbulent anxiety of the crashing plane sequence is raw and gritty; a truly furious storm of film making.  This cut is such a  tour-de-force, that the rest of the film seems like the dust settling from the crash.  The narrative is disjointed and in some places and lags in others.  

However, the rather choppy screenplay is held together with Zemeckis’ technical proficiency, a painfully nostalgic soundtrack, and of course Denzel’s Oscar worthy performance.  It is these powerfully human aspects of the film that truly lets Flight soar to new heights.            

The Flat

Months after his grandmother passes away, Arnon Goldfinger and his family climb the stairs to her Tel Aviv apartment, prepared to clear it out. While sifting through the odds and ends his grandmother accumulated in the 70 years since she left Berlin in the 1930s with her husband, Goldfinger’s grandfather, Goldfinger stumbles upon bundles of letters and a Nazi newspaper.

He finds out that his grandparents, who moved to Israel to escape the Holocaust, had a deep friendship with Nazi SS Officer Leopold von Mildenstein and his wife, and their relationship lasted not only through World War II but well after. As Goldfinger digs deeper to find how this incomprehensible association could survive, he learns more about trauma, denial, and his family’s past.

Early on, we’re told that von Mildenstein and his grandfather bonded over mutual Zionism, but this is unsatisfactory to Goldfinger, whose feelings stay largely guarded behind a neutral investigator’s face. Too quickly the movie begins to explore a slow-moving world of conjecture and justification.

As he interviews old friends and colleagues to understand the friendship his grandparents shared, it becomes clear that his understanding stems from a perspective perhaps too different than those he’s talking to: While he is intrigued by his family’s history as Jewish Germans, the people he talks too remember it too well. He is a third-generation German, too far removed from the traumatic incidents to inherently sense the things his interviewees suppress.

One the film’s strongest points is in its exposition of trauma and denial felt by World War II survivors. “The second generation didn’t ask what happened. You don’t understand, and I’m glad you don’t understand,” his grandmother’s friend says. The interviews start to clear the dust, and you begin to see the pattern of accepted silence and cocoons of Holocaust denial through earlier generations.

Despite weaving his own narration into the film, Goldfinger seems intent on remaining separate and objective from his family’s history. It’s sometimes hard to grasp the deep personal nature of his story when he insists on acting as an unaffected third party.

Goldfinger works to inject some personal relatability to the film through the interviews, but even that falls short when we’re left with cordial conversations that don’t advance much and confusingly give the feeling of a PBS special with the narrative of a home video.

There is a lot of exposition that ultimately reveals fewer clues than one might imagine. Coupled with the passionless reporting style, the result is that much of the film begins to feel long and tedious. When “The Flat” reaches the end of its journey, it’s clear that Goldfinger has meticulously researched his grandparents’ questionable political affiliations and denial, but his constant objectivity robs the narrative of any emotional punch. This prevents the evidence from really coming together; as a result, the film comes up short of what it could be.

The verdict: With a narrative as suppressed as the story it’s uncovering, the film falls a bit flat.

The Dark Knight Rises

I think we can all say we were looking forward to this one. A lot. We tried not to; we really tried to stay wary of all summer blockbusters, but I think deep down we knew this would be fan-fucking-tastic. Nolan never flops, right? Well yes and no.  

All of the Batman films in the Nolanverse have a tone reflecting the villain of the film.  Psychological and demented for Begins; calculating and cunning for The Dark Knight; and brutal and physical for Rises.  This works for and against the film itself.  While we see gorgeous cinematography and visceral performances by the entire cast, the movie itself was bogged down by plot holes and an overwritten script.   
The film moves pretty smoothly for a 2 hour and 45 minute film, but the overall pacing of the film felt too clunky; it overwhelmed itself with the wrong aspects of the plot.  The overly ambitious story made it too busy to build to a true climax. Reflecting the difference in villains, it doesn’t quite maintain the controlled chaos executed so well in The Dark Knight. The action is kind of everywhere, but also kind of nowhere.
Here’s the weird thing: The movie has this huge anti-occupy/anti-communist feel to it. While we get that Nolan has no stake in these and wasn’t trying to use Rises to discuss any of these politics, it’s hard to ignore some of the imagery that drips with relevance to the last year.

All in all, it seems a little careless to raise such burning questions and not give it the respect it deserves.
Watching the film, we had a good time. Anne Hathaway and Tom Hardy both  capture and redefine the original comic book villains. Hathaway oozes with sensuality, and her minute mannerisms demonstrates the crafty mind and agile body of Catwoman. On the other end of the spectrum, Tom Hardy gives a brute and physical performance to an otherwise one-note character.  

Nolan is no slouch with the camera as well, capturing the melancholy of Gotham as a majestic city landscape of haunting beauty. The action sequences were also memorable; Bane and Batman face-off in a gritty and carnal scene which is reminiscent of a boxer in a bout way past his prime.

Will you see Rises? Yes.  Will you have a good time in the theater? Probably.  Does it bring a satisfying conclusion? Sure. But it is nowhere near the magnum opus we were expecting from Christopher Nolan.