Honeymoon

Great horror movies have been built around the idea that the person you spend the rest of your life with is a monster. Rosemary’s husband worked with the devil, and Jack Manningham gave us the psychological term “gaslighting.” These stories prey on that insecurity that deep down the person sleeping next to you isn’t who they appear to be.

It’s the element that makes “Honeymoon” so successful. As Bea (Rose Leslie, TV’s Game of Thrones) and Paul (Harry Treadaway, currently on TV’s Penny Dreadful) travel to Bea’s remote family cabin for their honeymoon they seem to be basking in post-marital bliss. But after Paul finds Bea wandering and disoriented in the middle of the night, he begins to wonder if something more than sleepwalking happened in the woods.

“Honeymoon” is peculiar, in that it seems to do too much telling, yet also not enough. Lights pass over them as they sleep, power flickers in and out, a rustling in the woods. I wish that first-time director Leigh Janiak had held back a bit more of the clues along the way as to what happened on that fateful night. Its developments of “The Body Snatchers” formula keep it engaging and gripping throughout, but it would’ve better served the secondary job of the film: penetrating the metamorphosis that so many people fear in marriage. But it’s nothing that can’t be chalked up to inexperience, since the movie barely needs the later horror developments at all. Suspense permeates the narrative, and even at its slowest the plot builds somewhere you can’t quite expect.

While you’re not certain you know exactly what happened, there’s enough (too much) telling being done to give you a pretty good idea. That’s where Leslie and Treadaway come in. Their performances manage to communicate the challenging reality of their situation in what is basically a two-person show. Leslie in particular, who deals with both the more demanding physically challenging moments, skillfully portrays the subtle and overt changes in Bea.

Like most thrillers the ending of “Honeymoon” might not please anyone. As a fan of thrillers (we’re talking watching even the crappy ones on cable just to get a fix) I know I was prepared to be disappointed, and like I said there’s certainly room for Janiak to grow. It’s kept vague enough to linger in the minds of audiences but overall it feels a bit rushed. It doesn’t fully satisfy the premise, but it’s more than enough newlywed nightmare to last me until “Gone Girl.”

Sin City: A Dame to Kill For

Is there anything more heartbreaking than a gorgeous film that can’t live up to its graphics? Probably. But as we watch Joseph Gordon-Levitt (Looper, Brick) drive down into Sin City, it’s hard not to let the excitement build up beyond what the movie ends up fulfilling.

His chapter is just one of many in Robert Rodriguez and Frank Miller’s co-directed return to Sin City. “A Dame to Kill For” follows a pattern similar to the first one: three stories clenched together with dark scenes and stunning graphics in Basin City. Gordon-Levitt plays Johnny, the new kid on the block who’s set to take the spot of Sin City’s highest roller. Meanwhile Dwight (Josh Brolin, Guardians of the Galaxy, No Country for Old Men) chases after the dame broad that stole his heart, while elsewhere Nancy (Jessica Alba, Machete, Sin City) loses herself in life post John Hartigan (Bruce Willis, Moonrise Kingdom, Die Hard), who (nine-year-old spoilers) died protecting her in the first “Sin City.”

All three sagas are told in serial form, just like its prequel. Except where the former managed to glide — or at least distract — with its sleek graphics and creative storytelling, “Sin City: A Dame to Kill For” misses its mark. The movie is sluggish, weighed down by the amount of attempted grit that peeks through with every move. Though it picks up a bit in the middle, the film feels more like a parody than an homage — except nobody told Rodriguez and Miller.

Maybe it’s too much to expect from a film (or maybe, more accurately, Miller) that’s constantly harkening back to the gritty days of noir to have better treatment of women. But the film is irresponsible at best. Gone are the highlighted femme fatales of old, back are the damsels. They may not always be in distress, but they always need a man — either to sexualize or complete them. The first one at least felt it needed to justify when someone (a woman) dies; “A Dame to Kill For” practically keeps a score card.

Sure, it was all probably there in “Sin City.” But with “Sin City: A Dame to Kill For” the formula feels devoid of the energy that was there; stale in a way that feels more like trashy pulp than the slow-boiled noir of its predecessor.

Some say fans of the original “Sin City” flick won’t be disappointed, and certainly those hoping to return to the grungy city and its vivid visuals won’t be. But for anyone looking for the wit and artistry of the first “Sin City” keep looking. It may be “A Dame to Kill For,” but by the end it just feels like a two-hour exercise in male bravado.

Her

Spike Jonze has certainly etched himself as one of the more creative and influential directors of our time. Bread in the new school of self-taught auteurs, Jonze has created his own compelling brand of cinema, placing offbeat characters in realistically tender scenarios. But the true stamp of a Spike Jonze film is his touches of magical realism that elevate his works beyond bizarre pieces and force his audience to constantly engage with his films.   

It is this ability to navigate and bend genres that allowed Jonze to draw such artistry and poignancy out of a premise as strange that in Her. It’s what can described as a Redditor’s fan fiction, Her depicts the lonesome Theodore Twombly (Joaquin Phoenix The Master, Walk the Line) and his budding relationship with his artificially intelligent OS Samantha (Scarlett Johansson, The Avengers, Captain America: Winter Soldier).  

In the hands of a lesser writer or director, the film could have easily been cheapened or become farcical. Jonze, however, maintains a steadfast hand over his film and script. From the warmth of the pink-kissed color palate to the wistful score featuring Karen O’s “Moon Song,” Jonze creates an atmosphere built on trust and vulnerability. Even as he moves his film into more emotional intensity, he never betrays his audience’s investment, and treats his material with severe yet sincere reliability.

The film is buoyed by strong performances by it’s two leads. Even though Johansson is only a voice, the chemistry between her and Phoenix is palpable. The two performances complement each other perfectly, with Phoenix’s touching physicality and Johansson’s melodic tenderness. Both are halves of a beautiful dissection into a relationship.

Their relationship is set against a delicate picture of the future. In both costume and aeshetic, the Her universe seems like a realistic extension of our modern technological framework. It’s the perfect balance between futuristic predictions and muted change that creates just the right feeling of normalcy for its tale.  

Her is a rare type of film with the unique quality of taking a step back from reality to take a closer look into it. We see ourselves in the best and worst of Theodore and Samantha, making us ponder and reconcile the choices we have made in interacting with others. That maybe the best solace doesn’t come from other people or gadgets, but somewhere in between. Someone like her.  

Obvious Child

There are bad days, and then there are terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days. Brooklyn comedian Donna Stern (Jenny Slate, Parks and Rec’s Mona Lisa Saperstein) is having one of those. She finds herself dumped, fired, and pregnant just in time for Valentine’s Day. And then she does the rom-com unthinkable: she schedules an abortion.

It may sound like no small feat, but honestly, this simple choice alone is groundbreaking as far major cinema goes. Despite their relative frequency here in the U.S., abortion remains a pervasively stigmatized topic. People who have dealt with abortions feel a need to hide their experiences.

So while there’s a place for the Juno MacGuff’s in the world, there’s a quiet revolutionary element to a movie where the female lead has her heart set on obtaining an abortion. And thanks to Robespierre’s backdrop and Slate’s delightfully nuanced performance, Obvious Child is, without a doubt, the best abortion comedy you’ll see all year.

Not that it needs all those qualifiers. I’m serious guys, this movie is A++; delightful, and charming to boot. Donna is quick-witted, awkward, and observant; the perfect mix of millennial stereotype with honest woman in unfamiliar territory. Slate carries the film with an elegant realism; breathing character and voice into an experience that feels free from any sort of judgement. In Obvious Child women freely discuss their past experiences with abortion, and it’s clear that a baby — or pregnancy, as the case may be — is not in the stars for Donna Stern.

There’s still a sense of gravity to the film (how could there not be over such a third-rail topic?) but it never bogs the movie, or Donna, down. The movie remains inviting throughout, making it an easy and obvious choice to pop in when you’re having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Elysium

Neill Blomkamp first received buzz as the protege of Peter Jackson when he was set to direct a film adaptation of Halo. When that project was scrapped, Jackson and Blomkamp settled on District 9, a science fiction film acting as an allegory to Apartheid mixed with the personal narrative of David Cronenberg’s The Fly.  

The film was an instant hit critics and audiences alike, even snagging a few Oscar nominations, including best picture. However District 9 was never able to elevate itself into elite sci-fi territory, as the social commentary quickly devolves into a pure action film halfway through. With the summer release of Elysium, expectations were high for him to correct his previous stumble.  

Sadly, he did not.

Elysium depicts a bleak and barren future where the people of Earth are riddled with poverty, overpopulation, and disease. The truly privileged and wealthy live in the orbiting Utopia dubbed Elysium, where each citizen is provided med-bays which keeps them 100% disease free. Ex-thief turned factory worker Max Da Costa (Matt Damon, We Bought a Zoo, Promised Land) gets exposed to deadly amounts of radiation and is left no choice but to invade Elysium, where entrance by Earth citizens is illegal, to procure treatment. With the threat of a stealth mission imminent, Secretary of Defense Jessica Delcourt (Jodie Foster The Silence of the Lambs, Carnage) deploys the psychotic mercenary Agent Kruger (Sharlto Copley, District 9, The A-Team) to detain the invaders.

Blomkamp certainly shows an eagerness in tackling relevant and pressing social issues. In District 9, he handled xenophobia, disease, and corporatism while in Elysium he targets classism, healthcare, and immigration. While drawing topical parallels is the cornerstone of good science fiction, Blomkamp fails to develop any of these themes in Elysium. In addition to faltering into problematic tropes like the white savior, none of the issues he attempts to address are given their proper care and attention. His arcs are either neatly tied up in a bow or riddled with plot holes that give his commentary a lot more flash than sizzle.

His actors and characters are merely placeholders, since none of them have any real defining characteristics or realization. The only exception is Copley, who delivers a performance rife with instability and menace, but even his character is so thinly written it is really all for naught.  

Both the commentary and character development fall to the wayside because Blomkamp is proving more and more that he is an action director posing as a sci-fi one. If he were to put half the energy he puts into his action set pieces into writing more inspired material that manages to deliver on the social commentary, his next work could be a science fiction landmark.

There’s no doubt that Blomkamp has filmmaking talent and an eye for interesting aesthetics. He is able to construct realistically gritty landscapes and recognizes the growing marriage between man and machine, and that it’s union can be bruising and gruesome. This sort of visual hasn’t been explored this well since the aforementioned king of body horror David Cronenberg.

However, he is also starting to resemble another prolific science fiction icon: James Cameron. Both have immaculate control over dazzling visuals, but both lack the skill and ability to deliver an elite screenplay. Until he matures as a writer or leaves the writing to someone else, he’ll be stuck in the realm of fluffy action films and far from science fiction paradise. 

The Way Way Back

There’s not much to be said about creativity when it comes to coming-of-age stories.

Generally speaking, they don’t stray too far from the routine events that inevitably lead to teens coming into their own. Such predictability is often their undoing; it’s hard for a film to ring true when it rings every cliche in the book.

But every once and a while, an honest movie like “The Way, Way Back” comes along and makes it all worthwhile.

Predictably, 14-year-old Duncan (Liam James, from TV’s Psych, and The Killing) is having a lot of trouble fitting in. He’s socially awkward, disengaged, and unsure of what he’s going to get out of a summer at a beach house belonging to his mom’s (Toni Collette, About a Boy, Hitchcock) obnoxious boyfriend, Trent (Steve Carell, Little Miss Sunshine, Despicable Me).

But once Duncan arrives, he’s greeted by an eclectic bunch of small-town beach dwellers. He finds solace in his neighbor Susanna (AnnaSophia Robb, Bridge to Terabithia, Race to Witch Mountain) and a clandestine friendship with Owen (Sam Rockwell, Seven Psychopaths, Moon), the manager of the local water park.

Not much plot ingenuity here, sure, and the movie certainly has missteps. Between all of Duncan’s evolving relationships, it’s unclear what the central arc of the film is intended to be, and his bloom into adulthood seems to come with relative ease. The film wobbles a bit when the audience is left to infer his growth on its own during happy montages set to quiet indie rock.

But co-writers and co-directors Jim Rash and Nat Faxon don’t let that drag down the heart of the movie. Similar to their work in “The Descendants,” Rash and Faxon have a way of grounding the characters in “The Way, Way Back” with earnestness that makes them so much more than hackneyed personas, which is infinitely more fun to watch.

The story’s compassion and authenticity are aided by its all-star comedic cast; there’s not a weak link in the bunch, as all the actors bring a sincere depth to roles that could have easily been played as caricatures.

Rockwell’s Owen brings charm and genuineness to his role as the aloof mentor. Carell’s Trent could easily have simply been unlikeable (and he is, at times), but Carell grounds him so realistically it’s hard to look away. The only exception might be Allison Janney, who plays Susanna’s boozy and wacky mother as comic relief. But there’s pure gold in her zany antics. The cast is even well rounded out by the talents of consistently underutilized players Maya Rudolph (Bridesmaids, Away We Go) and Rob Corddry (Pain and Gain, Warm Bodies). 

“The Way, Way Back” doesn’t break many barriers when it comes to rehashing the themes of maturation and adulthood. But between the talented cast and the blend of comedy with not-too-sappy heart, the film is a cool break from the summer blockbuster season.

The Verdict: Like any coming-of-age story, it takes some liberties, but altogether it’s an earnest and funny summer flick.

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.

The Kings of Summer

Boys in the wood. 

What happens to high school boys fed up of living with their parents? Joe Toy (Nick Robinson) is about to find out. Tired of living with his bitter, widowed father (Nick Offerman), Joe pitches an idea to his best friend Patrick (Gabriel Basso), who’s having his own parental issues: What if they built a house in the woods and lived off the land? After some consideration, they quickly gather up wood, canned goods, and an eccentric friend (Moises Arias) to construct a house, live in the wild, and learn what it means to become a man.

The film boasts a fairly large cast of heavy-hitting comedy actors: Nick Offerman, Megan Mullally, Mark Evan Jackson, and Alison Brie all show off their comedic chops as the “adult” voices. But like the construction in the film, the heavy lifting comes down to the trio of teenage boys.

As characters, they could be read as bland or unconvincing, but the three actors manage to bring them to a more relatable level. Their performances are earnest, if somewhat lacking in the nuance achieved by their older peers, but provide a believable window into the evolution of a teenager stuck in a slightly unbelievable tale.

Young boys running away from familial responsibilities is nothing original, but the film seeks to make up for that in heart. The relationship between Joe and his father balances itself between an awkwardly realistic portrayal of two people suffering a loss in their lives and your run of the mill, sarcastic, familial jabs. 

It’s indicative of the larger goal “Kings of Summer” tries to accomplish: blending comedic moments with a heartfelt coming of age tale, while staying a level above that of a sap-fest. In that regard, it bites off a bit more than it can chew. It has its moments of comedy, heartbreak, and growing up, but it doesn’t quite pack enough of an emotional punch to put it in a league of its own; the result is a bit of an unfocused film that changes gears faster than it can keep up with itself.

It feels like the movie can’t quite muster up the same strength Joe and his friends do to stake out some unclaimed territory in the realm of self-discovery. “Kings of Summer” is beautifully shot and has welcomed authenticity, but is ultimately a very safe look at teens and the problems they face growing up.

In the end, it’s a sweet, well-intentioned movie about a boy coming to terms with the world, and re-establishing a relationship with his gruff father. It’s well acted and pleasant enough that audiences might not care to remember its foibles, but it won’t be remembered as the height of coming of age tales. 

Verdict: It’s got a charming personality, but its reign won’t last long past summer.

The Internship

It’s a fantastic excuse for large-scale product placement when Billy (Vince Vaughn) and Nick (Owen Wilson) sign up for an internship with Google. After they’re rendered obsolete in their jobs as watch salesmen, they find themselves in competition for guaranteed employment at the end of the summer. But although they’re in the Shangri-La of search engine companies, they’ll have to prove their worth in a series of competitions to get to the top.

It’s implausible, to say the least. Don’t worry, seeing the movie doesn’t make this plot seem any more believable or less predictable than the premise sounds. It’s basically what you’d expect from a Vaughn and Wilson comedy, set to the backdrop of the funhouse Google headquarters and toned down for a PG-13 rating.

“The Internship” is certainly funny; it’s the same wacky friendship dynamic Vaughn and Wilson brought to “Wedding Crashers” back in the day but a bit more tailored to a workplace. The film relies on their banter to bring the fun and to unite their team of eclectic nerds, and they deliver what you’d expect — and so do the band of techies. 

Their team, which consists of whiz kids who just want the dinosaurs to stop blocking their path to success, manages a number of solid subplots for the movie, and each gets their own moment to shine. It’s hard to not fall in love with a lovable band of coding misfits that bond over a game of Quidditch.

Their Google overlords are also well cast, led by Aasif Mandvi as the boss who refuses to warm up to the duo’s charms, and rounded out by Josh Brener as the nerdy manager with some heart.

When it comes to bro movies like “The Internship,” the dynamic between the actors is everything. These types of movies rely on innovative humor over innovative plot devices, and it falls on the players to give the film relatability. Here, the actors bring some life to what is otherwise a fairly uninspired comedy. It’s clear from the get-go what’s going to happen, but it’s nice to have some laughs along the way. 

Though it’s not the funniest comedy of all time (nor is it the funniest from Vaughn or Wilson), it manages to deliver on the laughs and wields a multitude of characters stronger than most films of this genre. For all the constant predictability and occasional hokiness in “The Internship,” it does manage a few scenes of realism, particularly in regard to the job market and what it means these days for young people.

It’s tough to say this movie is a failure, but against the quirky backdrop of the Google offices, there’s a sense that if “The Internship” had more ambition, it could be a well-crafted satire or even just a hilarious and raunchy comedy. It may be one of the better comedies of 2013 so far, but here’s hoping that we’re still just paying our dues.

The verdict: It’s a toned down “Wedding Crashers” but with computers and topical job market references.

Much Ado About Nothing

Birds do it, bees do it, even Kenneth Branagh did it back in 1993. And now, coming off of the action-blockbuster bonanza that was “The Avengers,” Joss Whedon has modestly adapted the Shakespeare comedy “Much Ado About Nothing” for the screen. 

For those who aren’t familiar: “Much Ado About Nothing” is a classic Shakespeare comedy filled with hijinks and deception. Benedick (Alexis Denisof) and Beatrice (Amy Acker) have a complicated relationship, in which they renounce the concept of love and engage in a “merry war” of witty banter. 

While awaiting the nuptials of Beatrice’s cousin, young Hero (Jillian Morgese) to Benedick’s friend Claudio (Fran Kranz), their friends mischievously decide to get Beatrice and Benedick to admit their feelings for each other. But there’s trouble brewing underneath all the merriment, and soon the group finds themselves on quite the emotional roller coaster. 

However timeless the work may be, “Much Ado About Nothing” hinges on a lot of aged Shakespearean elements. Between the unfamiliar language and values, it would be easy for modern audiences to feel too alienated by the text, no matter how quick the banter. Whedon’s work is often grounded in his own linguistic style, but by opting to stay true to the original Shakespearean dialogue, he still manages a stylish and uncluttered update that makes an archaic story more palatable to film-goers. 

Whedon creates a more sultry interpretation, rife with humor, nuances, and a jazzy soundtrack, adding in a few elements of his own to make the laughs land and lovers’ pride real. Shot in black and white, the film has a modest but elegant tone, enhancing the modern scene-setting but still allowing the dialogue to shine on its own.

And shine it does, thanks to the delightful cast of Whedon veterans. Acker and Denisof are impeccable in their stubborn banter, injecting real sensuality into the bard’s tale. Nathan Fillion is brilliant as the bumbling but assured Dogberry, reimagined as a tough-minded but buffoonish detective. 

The performances aren’t perfect, however — these aren’t seasoned Shakespearean actors — although they come close. The film was shot in only 12 days entirely in Whedon’s house, and the simplicity shows. It doesn’t reinvent the text, but it wears its oddly appropriate time shift respectably. 

“Much Ado About Nothing” feels a lot like seeing an intimate Shakespeare in the Park performance with some Whedon favorites. Audiences are more up close and personal than they might usually be (an aspect of film Whedon plays to his advantage to portray the couple’s intimacy), and the film is accessible to Shakespearean scholars and laypeople alike. 

More than anything else, the movie is fun. It’s clear that Whedon and his cast think highly of the bard and his work, and their energy is what brings the movie to life. As a film, “Much Ado About Nothing” might not bring much to the table. But as an adaptation, Whedon’s take on the bard is brimming with enough comedic and clever chemistry to make sure audiences care a lot about nothing.

The verdict: It might not be thought of as the definitive “Much Ado” adaptation, but it brings life and a modern twist to the classic tale.