"Star Wars: Episode VII - The Force Awakens" review

 

The Force Awakens, but has trouble getting out of bed

After the cinematic lobotomy that was the Prequels, many Star Wars fans, myself included, were very excited about the prospect of the franchise continuing without George Lucas.  JJ Abrams seemed a good choice given his success with the reboot of “Star Trek.”  Yet the sequel “Into Darkness” proved to be an overlong, chaotic mess, and unfortunately “The Force Awakens” shares more than a few similarities.  Overall, it’s a good film, but it suffers from trying to balance the demands of fan service with the necessity of forging its own unique path.

When “The Force Awakens” is telling a new story with new characters, it works like gangbusters.  The film begins with the two principals, Rey and Finn, and their introductions are compelling because even though they take place in a very recognizable setting, it doesn’t feel like a slavish imitation. In particular, Rey’s story reveals many things new and old, but it all blends seamlessly because it is a logical expansion upon a very familiar world.  This first act is by far the best part of the film.

Instead of retreading old trails, Rey and Finn’s stories widen the scope of the Star Wars universe, adding a breath of fresh air to what had become a very lugubrious landscape.  The downside of this new, youthful vibrancy is that the appearance of original trilogy characters somehow feels awkward, much like going to a family reunion and meeting aunts and uncles whom you recall but don’t really know anymore.  I know I should be happy to see these faces, but it just felt weird.

The narrative of “The Force Awakens” is also befuddling because the main goal changes suddenly towards the end of the film.  At first, everyone’s looking for Luke, and then the focus radically shifts to something else.  One of the main reasons that the original Star Wars films worked so well is because they told a simple story on a grand scale.  The hero’s journey is often long and arduous, but the goal always remains the same.  Asking the audience to suddenly switch their allegiance in the third act is confusing because it negates all the buildup that occurred previously.

Of course, this is just the first of many movies.  Disney is going to make it rain Star Wars films for years to come, so it’s a good bet that a more tightly constructed and less nostalgic tale will eventually be told.  That is where I see the successful future of this franchise.  If Star Wars is going to maintain its relevance for all the succeeding generations, then it must continue to add fresh faces exploring different places while laying the foundations of a new mythos.  It needs to take us to another galaxy far, far away.

"Longmire" review - Seasons 1 through 4

Red, White & Gray

Since so many screenwriters have now realized that the long form of a television show offers a much larger and more fertile ground within which to work, just about every cable company has been able to establish at least one prestige series of original content that serves as the tent pole for the channel.  However, the brimming talent pool of scribes is not a guarantee of greater intelligence on the part of the owners of these networks, and dumb decisions can still roll destructively downhill like the boulder chasing Indiana Jones!

Initially, A&E aspired to an aura of sophistication with shows like "Biography" and "Horatio Hornblower."  In a later attempt to attract a different demographic, they struck gold with the massive popularity of "Duck Dynasty", but then unwanted controversy tarnished their image.  While the debut of "Longmire" earned raves from critics and audiences alike, A&E stunned loyal viewers by putting out to pasture this superlative cowboy detective drama despite the fact that it was the networks’ most popular program! 

Thankfully, A&E’s mind-boggling blunder is now Netflix’s soaring success, and “Longmire” has been able to continue its dusty trek towards an uncertain horizon.  The main character, Walt Longmire, sheriff of fictional Absoroka County in Wyoming, is a walking anachronism.  A man of few words and even fewer emotions, Walt plods through the modern world with the resigned weariness of someone who seems to have actually lived in the Old West and is bemused by the needless complexity of 20^th century existence.

What makes “Longmire” so entertaining is that it strikes the perfect balance between many so complex and varied elements.  It is a detailed detective show with each episode usually devoted to a crime that is always unique and interesting.  It is also a fascinating and revealing character study, not only of Walt, but also of his deputies and the denizens of Durant and their contentious relationship with the nearby Cheyenne reservation.  Finally, “Longmire” has a grand storyline which meticulously unfolds as the series progresses.

The interplay between all of the characters is beautifully written, compellingly acted and sometimes hilarious.  Each principal has their own personal story, which is carefully woven into the larger fabric of the show.  Another great strength is how "Longmire" uses its varied cast of characters to play against certain stereotypes.  Assumptions are an easy mistake to make, but "Longmire" delights in upending expectations.  The show teaches the viewer to think the way that Walt does.  Never take things at face value.  Never rush to judgement.

It is a rare pleasure to watch a series that regards its audience as having brains, and therefore doesn’t broadcast its plot or character developments with all the subtlety of a bullhorn.  The first four seasons of “Longmire” roll out tantalizing teases, but even when shocking answers to long lingering questions are revealed, life for Walt does not get simpler.  It just goes on as the stakes are pulled out and planted in new ground.  The story doesn’t end when the killer is found and the case is solved, and Walt’s unwavering pursuit of the truth continues to lead him deeper into dark and dangerous territory.

"Deadwood" series review

“Deadwood” – Saddle up, c*cks*ckers!

David Milch was a name known to me from his work on “Hill Street Blues” and “NYPD Blue”, both of which are TV shows that I loved when they were new.  Though now dated to modern eyes, they still retain a nostalgic charm.  Being the older show, “Hill Street Blues” creaks quite a bit.  Much of the humor is more rooted in caricature rather than character, and the transitions from comedy to drama are sometimes abrupt.  “NYPD Blue” works much better in balancing the professional and personal lives of the players, but the purposeful shaky cam, which felt fresh at the time, is now somewhat seizure inducing.

When “Deadwood” first premiered on HBO, I wasn’t particularly interested, even knowing of David Milch’s involvement.  How relevant could a Western TV show be in the 21st Century?  Well, to my everlasting joy, “Deadwood” revealed itself to be one of the absolute best shows about the human condition that I’ve ever seen.  The only reason that I place “The Wire” above it is because that show was able to finish its run and complete its story.  While “Deadwood” was cut down before it had finished growing, the three seasons that exist are astonishing in their psychological complexity and heady cornucopia of human foibles.

The Writing

David Milch’s writing for “Deadwood” evokes the density of a German Chocolate cake and matches it both in darkness and deliciousness.  The double and sometimes triple inversions of sentence structure make digesting dialogue a challenging and alluring mystery.  It also makes re-watching a delight as you get closer to understanding what some the characters are actually saying.  This particular style also gives the verbal exchanges an antiquity that feel real instead of artificial, and each character has a slightly different delivery, which further distinguishes their individuality and temperament.

The Acting

The cast of “Deadwood” is legendary, and though it is comprised of grizzled veterans and pink-faced newcomers, all deliver sterling performances.  Ian McShane as bar and brothel operator Al Swearengen appears at first to be a rapacious beast with barely enough humanity remaining to walk upright.  Yet as the episodes unfold, Al reveals the faintest glimmer of compassion underneath his raging, blustery armor.  Al Swearengen is the rageaholic version of Ebeneezer Scrooge, and yet Al is lovable despite his cruel tyranny and marrow-targeted jibes.  Even the most base of human animals have the capacity for empathy, and Al constantly teases the promise of his reclamation.

Every single other member of the cast acquits themselves in superlative fashion, with one personal exception.  Though my wife would disagree, for me there is something missing from Kim Dickens’ turn as Joanie Stubbs, the fragile blonde madam of the Bella Union.  Her limited emotive range fails to do justice to the ghastly emotional pain that roils within her.  Joanie Stubbs’ personal history would be enough to unhinge anyone, but the mostly placid eyes, static mouth and unwrinkled face do not convey the weight of psychological torment that threatens to pull her down.

The Costume Design

As with special effects, I also believe that excellent costume design should not call attention to itself.  It should be seen, but not noticed.  I hope that makes sense!  Every character in “Deadwood” displays a mode of dress that reflects their history, personality and status.  Whether dressed in the latest East Coast silks & taffeta of the aspiring socialite or in the cracked, sun-blasted leathers of the weary but hopeful prospector, the level of detail and texture in every character's wardrobe tells us who they are or what they would like to be.  The wear and tear, the dirt and the dust are all applied in just the right amount, which further distinguishes each denizen of Deadwood.

Production Design & Cinematography

Beyond the variety of each character's costume, the streets and houses of “Deadwood” are another filthy yet fascinating feast for the eyes.  Every hotel room, hovel or tent is filled with mementos, totems and other objects that enhance the sense of these spaces as being lived in.  The motes that swirl inside of the dust-caked windows, the smoke that curls serpentine into the cool evening air and the omnipresent atmosphere of grime and stench can almost be tasted on the tongue.  “Deadwood” is so dirty that you can practically feel the grit crunching between your back molars.  Yet, there is a captivating beauty to be found amidst the mud and refuse, and the cinematography often achieves a dreamlike state despite the frequently nightmarish setting.

Story & Character Development

What sets “Deadwood” apart from so many other shows is how the characters grow individually and in reaction to one another.  Initially, Al Swearengen is the epitome of evil; an alcoholic, abuser and adamant opponent to all who would dare challenge him.  But as the series progresses, others are introduced who make Al seem. . . not so bad.  It’s not just because we’ve learned a little bit more about Al and from where his anger erupts, it’s that “Deadwood” keeps topping your expectations.  Just when you think you have a character figured out, something happens to turn all your predictions to naught.  Most importantly, these revelations expand our understanding instead of confounding us with contradictions.

Just when we’re sure that Al Swearengen is the worst excuse for a human being that we’ve ever had the displeasure to know, Cy Tolliver rolls his wagons, whores and card sharks into town and sets up a brand new brothel. The gussied-up Bella Union with its fancy décor and perfumed pros stand in stark contrast to the creaky planks and threadbare slatterns of Al's Gem Saloon.  However, Cy has an even bigger anger management problem, and we now have a new devil to loathe.  Then the infamous George Hearst descends upon Deadwood to further expand and consolidate his gold mining enterprise, and we are forced to reevaluate our opinions for a third time.  Is George Hearst’s heart as black as the hills of South Dakota?

Unfortunately, “Deadwood” was never able to fully answer this and many other questions, as numerous behind-the-scenes events conspired to prevent the show from starting its fourth and possibly final season.  David Milch did not plan for the story to run much longer than this because his intent was solely to explore the murky minefield of flawed but resolute people who are forced to cohabitate and collaborate in their attempt to create order out of chaos.  Milch was fascinated with the process by which these disparate souls would struggle to find their way together toward an uncertain future.  The show may have ended before its time, but the struggles and triumphs that “Deadwood” depicts regarding community and sacrifice are timeless.

"The Babadook" review

Thrills, chills and most importantly, smarts!

When teenagers became the default target audience for horror films in the early nineties, the variety of scary movies narrowed so drastically that the entire genre was notoriously rebranded as “torture porn”… a succinct summation, as the aberrant whiplash from jiggling breasts to jittering entrails is ridiculous and repulsive.  This cinematic schizophrenia presents a particular problem for older, more discerning viewers who prefer a story that involves more than boobs and bloodshed.  Thankfully, “The Babadook” is utterly absent the hormonal illogic of adolescence: it is an intelligent and mature supernatural thriller.

Writer/director Jennifer Kent’s debut is a baroque descent into madness.  The story is meticulously crafted, in large part because the characters and setting are so realistic and compelling.  Single mother Amelia, stoically portrayed by Essie Davis, struggles to raise her quirky six-year-old son, Samuel, in a startling performance by Noah Wiseman.  Amelia works in a nursing home, and is still trying to reconcile the death of her beloved husband in a car accident on the day of Daniel’s birth.  Amelia is also grappling with Daniel’s behavioral oddities which have made him a pariah at school.  Though their life is stressful, they take solace in each other.

However, Amelia and Daniel’s strained existence soon becomes haunted by a growing anxiety.  The fear germinates from what appears to be a children’s book called “Mister Babadook.”  Though the text is benign, the starkly illustrated pop-up pages reveal a looming, amorphous figure with dagger-like fingers and a clown face of leering malevolence.  It seems likes spooky but harmless fun, but afterwards Daniel begins having horrible hallucinations.  Essie tries to destroy the book, but it reappears unharmed and even more ghastly things begin to manifest themselves.

What started as a smoldering ember of apprehension is slowly yet diabolically fanned into an inferno of white-hot paranormal panic.  Amelia and Daniel find themselves relentlessly stalked by a specter that threatens to destroy them from the inside out.  The Babadook wants to devour their sanity as well as their souls.  Creaking doors, thumping walls and shaking beds turn Amelia and Daniel’s nights into a hellish trial of sleep deprivation.  Pushed to the brink of exhaustion, Amelia’s rationality unravels and she lashes out violently, even at her bewildered child.

“The Babadook” teases the mind and triggers the gooseflesh because the film relies not on visual effects, but on the reactions of the characters to convey the emotional shocks.  The actor’s expressions are thrillingly frightful precisely because the audience is left to imagine so much of what is not shown.  This restraint is crucial, and it holds through to the end.  The epilogue is magnificent because even though it makes sense, exactly what has happened remains a mystery.  The story is not necessarily over, and the lingering ambiguity is tantalizing in the extreme.  Sometimes the most spine-chilling thing of all is not knowing.

"Mad Max: Fury Road" review

A Galvanic Spasm of Feminist Fury

The ladies have taken the stage on the blasted heath of the apocalypse, and it is good.  At first, the trailers for “Mad Max: Fury Road” didn’t captivate me, but when I heard of the potent female characters and themes present in this latest installment of the dystopic franchise, my interest was kindled.  Aside from Tina Turner’s intriguing but ultimately unintimidating Auntie Entity, no other woman had stood stoically amidst the burning sands of George Miller’s machismo-soaked landscape and staked a claim to destiny.  Of course, doing so comes at a considerable cost.

“Mad Max: Fury Road” is not just a film.  It is an endurance test.  It is a relentless and nearly exhausting assault on the eyes, ears and psyche.  However, the beauty behind this beast is that every jab, stab and spurt has a meaning and purpose.  The violence is brutal, but it is necessary because the violence is the story.  At this point, exposition is largely superfluous.  There are few words spoken in the wasteland, and almost all sound death.  While there is also very little plot, there is no need for it.  Survival demands action, and the action sequences are utterly astonishing.

It is impossible to overstate the quality and variety of the stunt work in this film.  The cinematography and editing is also truly amazing.  What a pleasure to have the eyeballs astounded by sights that actually happened!  In an age where spectacle is easy to calculate in the cold nether regions of a thousand hard drives, George Miller hurls the audience screaming into a real desert.  The sun bleaches the eyes, grit crunches between the teeth and the coppery taste of blood salts the tongue.  The visceral vitality of this world is beguiling despite its desolation.  What delicious irony that a movie so bleak can inspire such exultations of joy and triumph!

Max rarely speaks in this outing, and some have lamented that he doesn’t even feel like the main character anymore.  But there have been three previous films with Max firmly in the lead, so the time is ripe for new characters to have their stories told because their conflicts mirror and/or contrast against the burned-out husk that is Max.  Charlize Theron as Imperator Furiosa is a phenomenal new lead character.  While the fact that Furiosa is female is significant, what is more crucial is that her character is not solely defined by her gender.  If Furiosa were male, she would be much like Max.  This equivalence of ability, agency and personal power elevates the franchise to a new level of maturity.

“Mad Max: Fury Road” is the best kind of summer blockbuster.  The film pretends to present a simple action adventure for an evening’s entertainment, and it succeeds in every possible way.  Yet the story is pregnant with ideas, motifs and inspirations, and while not all of them are fully formed, the sumptuous production design fills the screen with details that make sense and allusions that are powerful.  However, there are also many little moments and minutiae which have been cleverly inserted amid the chaos.  Many seeds have been planted, and how they will bear fruit in future films is an extremely tantalizing mystery to ponder.

Lieutenant Ellen Ripley would be proud!

"Avengers: Age of Ultron" Review

Strong start, but faltering finish

Admiring the facility with which writer/director Joss Whedon handles large casts of characters while deftly balancing comedy and drama, I was very excited for the first “Avengers” movie.  While that initial film was an overwhelmingly fun experience in the theater, soon afterwards I realized that I was disappointed with the antagonist.  Loki felt more mischievous than dangerous, and the Chitauri were too generic to be genuinely threatening.  When the robotic ravager Ultron was announced as the villain of the next installment, I was excited!

The opening sequence and entire first act of “Avengers: Age of Ultron” is absolutely breathtaking as the reintroduction of our heroes occurs during a raid on Hydra technology in a winter-blanketed forest.  Joss Whedon’s talent for directing and presenting super-powered action is superlative.  I gaped in awe, guffawed with joy and roared with hearty approval at the kinetic choreography.   Each Avenger is given a golden moment to shine, and when the team finally assembles onscreen the moment is exultant in the extreme.

Damn, it’s great to see you guys again!

Yet, as the story unfolds into the second act and beyond, the intense effort to pack in so much information begins to cast an ever darkening cloud of confusion over the proceedings.  Important plot details are hastily presented, and this prevents them from sticking in the mind.  There are too many story lines and character arcs overlapping, and losing track means losing the emotional investment in what’s happening.  Once that’s gone, the movie is over.

Unfortunately, Ultron is not an upgrade in the black hat department.  He does not come off as any more malevolent or dangerous than Loki.  He monologues and threatens destruction, but Ultron himself hardly does anything truly dastardly.  No innocents are killed, or if they are, their deaths are not given the attention they should.  There was no sense of actual consequence, even during the final, epic battle.  Thought the fate of the human race hung in the balance, this dire situation just didn’t feel appropriately desperate.

While “Avengers: Age of Ultron” is at times enthralling, hilarious and gripping, it suffers from the burden of having too much to say but not enough time to say it.  The film is a delightfully fun rollercoaster, but like many amusement park rides, the euphoria recedes rapidly.  Rumor is that the Blu-Ray release will add a lot of footage that will develop the characters more and expand the story.  Hopefully this is true, as there is a really good film in there; we just haven’t seen it all yet.

"The Contender" review

A Victory For All Of Us

Political thrillers are a penny a pound.  Even fewer have any staying power, which is often due to the issue at hand being too time specific to have any resonance beyond the generation that experienced it.  While “The Contender” is a very contemporary film, its longevity and relevance is assured for decades because the conflict it chronicles is as old as the human race.  On the surface, the film circumscribes the endless cloak and dagger machinations between Democrats and Republicans, but lurking in the lower depths is the ancient schism between men and women.  The psychological abyss that separates the sexes often seems illimitable, especially when the few bridges built across this gulf are often made of fear and hatred.

Joan Allen plays Laine Hanson, the first female senator to be nominated for Vice President of the United States.  The previous VP has died of cancer, and President Jackson Evans, cunningly portrayed by Jeff Bridges, wants the successful selection of Laine to be his political swan song.  This is one of my favorite Jeff Bridges performances.  President Evans did not rise to his position by being stupid.  While he appears to be an amiable and uncomplicated man, deep waters churn behind his cool façade.  Evans is a veteran player.  He knows the game and he sees in Laine the same intellect, passion and unwavering dedication.

Despite his noble intentions, President Evans has legions of enemies, and he knows that Laine's path to ascendancy will be fraught with peril.  Even the most altruistic and resolute souls would lose faith in humanity when confronted by the myriad and malignant forces which instantly ally themselves against Evans and Laine.  At the head of the hydra is Shelly Runyon, whom Evans defeated in the last Presidential race.  Played with reptilian grace by Gary Oldman, Shelly Runyon radiates pure cold-blooded malice.  He cannot forgive Evans for besting him, and so will stop at nothing to take Laine down, even if it means turning her confirmation hearing into an abattoir.

Shelly's verbal assaults are like a lash to the impenitent, and the abuse that Laine is forced to absorb seemingly unendurable.  The televised proceedings quickly devolve into a public execution, and the microscopic scrutiny with which Laine's private life is dissected and distorted makes hyperbole seem as bland as milk.  Yet, she holds firm.  Laine does not bend.  Even in the face of horrific insults to her character and her worth as a human being, Laine holds firm.  The indomitable stoicism of Joan Allen’s performance is simply breathtaking.  She weathers the most withering accusations, and ultimately comes out as clean as a spring closet.  Like Evans, Laine understands that you can’t fight anger with anger, you have to outlast it.

The final scene between Laine and Evans is an absolutely brilliant coda, not only for this genre of film but for all cinema.  In the cool of the evening, the solitary pair embark on a celebratory stroll of the White House lawn.  As they indulge in the amusingly ironic machismo of smoking cigars, Laine finally reveals to Evans why she held herself in check through such an ordeal.  The reason is so smart, so prescient, and so fucking awesome that you love her character even more than you did before.  “The Contender” is a brilliant political thriller, made even more resounding by the courageous and uncompromising feminist heart that beats at its very center.