An Adventure in Space and Time

Mad Men with a Box

by Hunter Isham

        Fifty years ago today, the British Broadcasting Corporation introduced its viewers to a program about a character sometimes referred to as a madman in a box. Doctor Who was and is a television show about a time-traveling character named "the Doctor" who journeys to our past, present, and future, not to mention alien worlds and universes. He travels in a TARDIS (Time and Relative Dimension in Space), which looks like a blue police phone box from the 1960s. Who has become a phenomenon, both in the United Kingdom and around the world, and is arguably more popular now than it ever has been. The golden anniversary of such a landmark program has been marked in many ways, but one of the more interesting parts of the celebration is writer/producer Mark Gatiss' An Adventure in Space and Time, a warm and tender telefilm charting the creation, production, and initial success of the First Doctor's escapades.

        Looking like a British version of Mad Men, or perhaps more like the BBC's short-lived but much loved The Hour, this production takes us back to the early sixties, when science fiction was gaining traction on television. The BBC's Head of Drama, a brassy Canadian named Sydney Newman (a creative force behind The Avengers), commissions a kid's show that could educate by featuring a twinkly old time-traveler, and hires his former production assistant, Verity Lambert, as not just Who's producer, but also the BBC's first female producer. Add to the mix the corporation's first Indian director, Waris Hussein, who directed the very first episode, and you've got a crew of outsiders working on quite the oddity. Then there's William Hartnell, the actor who originated the role for which the show is named, who at the time he was cast was frustrated by being typecast as military and authority figures. The story of how the BBC's ugly-duckling project took flight to become its modern day golden goose is an intriguing one only made better by this colorful cast of characters, and by the wonderful talents recruited to bring them to life.

        Veteran actor Brian Cox infuses Newman with just the right amount of warmth and intensity, making him both a proud creator and shrewd businessman who won't hesitate to put a failing production out of its misery. Jessica Raine is the tough yet kind Verity, a woman who won't let misconceptions about her show or her role as its producer get in the way of making the best damn program she can. She allows her character to be both the center of the story and a supporting player, as the story shifts its focus from Lambert to Hartnell as it cements their individual and shared importance to the franchise that would outlive them both. Verity Lambert was the glue holding the TARDIS together in the show's early stages, and her hard work paved the way for Hartnell's career to get the reprieve he would demonstrate it deserved. David Bradley, known to many as Argus Filch in the Harry Potter films, is excellent as William Hartnell, becoming not just a key player in Doctor Who's success, but also the heart and soul of An Adventure in Space and Time. He conveys the joy Hartnell experienced while working on something so beloved and popular, as well as the sorrow that would follow when he was replaced.

        Doctor Who is by its very nature an evolving television show with some core, unchanging elements. The story continues, and when necessary, the Doctor "regenerates," allowing for a new actor and a new interpretation. Taking part in such an enormous and enormously adored franchise must be an honor with a bittersweet reality, but being the first to depart, be you a writer, director, producer or actor, must be terrifying. Most of the original creative team left Doctor Who with bright futures ahead, but William Hartnell was entering a final act that could hardly live up to the one that preceded it. Though sad, Adventure, leaves its first and only Doctor, as well as the audience, with a glimmer of hope: Perhaps this creation, this madman in a box, will go on. Fifty years and eleven Doctors later, it's safe to say that Doctor Who has endured in the same way its eponymous character has. Though many docudrama telefilms fail to be more than adequate distractions, An Adventure in Space and Time offers more than you'd expect, and is, like the Doctor's TARDIS, bigger on the inside. 9/10

The Hunger Games

Casting Is Everything

by Hunter Isham

        The Hunger Games, like so many other young adult novel adaptations barreling out of Hollywood, seemed to come out of nowhere. Well, at least for me, anyway. I don't keep up with the best-selling books my peers are reading —I remember seeing Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson on the cover of Entertainment Weekly in 2007, and thinking, "What the hell is Twilight?"—but when film adaptions are on their way, they tend to end up on my radar. Suzanne Collins' novel and subsequent books caught my attention as potential films when I began hearing about how good they were, and about how Jennifer Lawrence, a recently Oscar-nominated young actress, would be an ideal choice for the lead role of Katniss Everdeen. She was cast, of course, the film was better for it, and fans of the book cheered for her portrayal of the heroine. I was keen on seeing this human embodiment of the glue that held the film together, but then I didn't, and I only recently found myself sitting down to watch The Hunger Games as preparation for another film I thought I might get around to seeing: The Hunger Games: Catching Fire.
        Well, the good news for those still catching up is that the critics and fans didn't lie; Jennifer Lawrence absolutely anchors the film. She's excellent as she conveys so much of what the rest of the film does not. You see, the first step in an eventual saga is always going to be filled with world building, and that can be quite the tedious process. The Hunger Games introduces us to Panem, a country in North America made up of twelve districts. The backstory is a little murky in the film, but it's explained at some point that this country is the result of an uprising roughly three quarters of a century ago. The aristocracy was left in power, and an annual, televised death match is held to remind the citizens of the power that hovers overhead. Two people from each district are chosen, and so begins the story of Katniss, the female "tribute" from District 12 (the poorest). There's a lot more to it than that, but I'll leave it as a surprise, especially when the plot is the only thing this film can offer beyond its characters that could provide any semblance of depth.
        The world of The Hunger Games is fertile ground for a story dealing with political corruption, as well as our obsession with celebrity and reality television, not to mention violence as entertainment. Unfortunately, these themes are mostly muddled, and the weight of the film is placed on the shoulders of the characters, the best realized of which is Katniss. The idea of celebrity is toyed with to entertaining effect, with Stanley Tucci one of the film's many supporting assets as a polished and bubbly television personality who covers the games, but the political stuff is pushed to the background, and the violence is watered down to the point that it's not as shocking as it needs to be to convey its horror (most likely and disappointingly to meet a PG-13 rating). Part of the blame must be thrown to co-writer/director Gary Ross, whose over-abundant use of "shakycam" makes even the most serene moments of the film seem like the opening of Saving Private Ryan. It's mostly effective in the action sequences, but its use elsewhere is unfounded. As for the themes, that comes down to issues with the screenplay, and being as unfamiliar with the source material as I am, perhaps that untapped potential is the book as well, but one would hope that the film would improve upon the text where possible (although I suspect that the book is indeed better than the movie).
        A blockbuster that doesn't live up to its full potential is not a new concept in Hollywood, and the audience is hardly blind to it, but what keeps The Hunger Games from deflating completely is the generally fantastic cast surrounding Lawrence. The aforementioned Tucci is joined by Elizabeth Banks, Woody Harrelson, and Donald Sutherland, each doing strong work with the relatively small roles they have compared to competitors in the games. Sutherland, portraying the apparently absent-in-the-book President Snow, has the least to do, but he sets the stage for a greater presence in later installments. Josh Hutcherson and Liam Hemsworth, as fellow District 12 tribute Peeta and hometown friend Gale, respectively, are both a little flat, but I'll chalk that up to the script for now. The latter has little to do here, so he may prove himself more capable in later films. It doesn't need to be said again, but I'll say it anyway: Jennifer Lawrence makes this movie. She is the key to this film's success more than anything else, because with the muted themes and distracting direction, identifying with and rooting for the protagonist is essential.
        The Hunger Games is not exactly required viewing for anyone looking to see the latest and greatest Hollywood blockbuster*, but its far superior sequel (keep an eye out for another review of that one) makes it a necessity. Thankfully, a colorful cast led by a strong Jennifer Lawrence elevates the film. The Hunger Games fans I know mostly loved this film, and everyone else seems to think its a good movie buoyed by an excellent performance. I definitely fall into the latter category, as I think most of the non-faithful will. The Hunger Games fails as a film to fully capture my imagination, but it soundly has my attention, and with a building franchise, that's enough to commit to another trip down this post-apocoplyptic rabbit hole of a story. They didn't exactly catch lighting in a bottle with this first installment, but with the groundwork laid, I think the creative team will have far more luck with Catching Fire. 7.5/10


*I'm referring here to films on the level of The Dark Knight.

About Time

Originally posted to the DMI Review on 11/4/13

About Love, About Life, About Loss

by Hunter Isham

        I'm a sucker for a sappy movie, even more so when it's a funny and playful one. Writer/director Richard Curtis brings the same warmth and charm he gave to Notting Hill and Love Actually to his newest creation, the time-travelling romantic comedy About Time. The film's trailers it paint as your typical time travel rom-com (or at least as you'd picture one to be), and seemingly give away the entire plot. The benefit of that every-so-slightly science fiction-y element of the story is that you have to expect the unexpected, and while About Time may hit too many familiar and predictable beats to satisfy the more jaded members of the audience, there's certainly more to it than meets the eye.
        The film begins as the awkward yet goodhearted Tim (Domhnall Gleeson) turns 21, when his father (Billy Nighy) informs him that all the men in their family have the ability to travel in time. Specifically, they can travel within the events in their own lives that they have experienced, lest the film turn into Back to the Future. Tim decides to use his gift to get a girlfriend, and so the events of the film are set in motion. He begins to grasp how and when he should use his powers, and what kind of effects they have on his life. Tim eventually meets Mary (Rachel McAdams), the beautiful girl that he instantly loves. But then he meets her again... and again. Curtis plays with time casually to great effect in a way that made Groundhog Day so fast and funny with its ability to revisit and revise the events of its story.
        About Time also successfully borrows its formula from that excellent Bill Murray film in that it disguises itself as one kind of movie while it becomes another. Groundhog Day is a fantasy comedy that develops into a romantic comedy with fantastic elements, meanwhile making a point about how to live each and every day to its fullest. Curtis' film delivers the pathos halfway through as About Time settles its romantic elements and asks questions about life in general. So what if you can make your love life perfect by repeating it until it's just right? What about everything else? How do you help and hurt the people you love? What sacrifices do you make? All of these questions are factored into how Tim approaches his experiences from day to day, turning About Time from a romantic comedy with an interesting premise into a comedy/drama that wants you to cherish every moment.
        Much of this unexpected depth comes from the dynamic developed between Nighy and Gleeson as a wonderful onscreen father/son pair. The former is always cool, funny, and ready to help his son, while the latter is always eager to learn and share a fun game of table tennis with his old man. Their bonding feels real, and their relationship is the heart of the film. Gleeson excels in these scenes, but he truly shines as he sets out to conquer the world of romance with his new found abilities. He's charmingly goofy and clumsy, and his personality carries the film's premise a long way, helping us to accept the time travel conceit without a concrete explanation for its existence. Rachel McAdams is similarly perfect for her role as she is once again smart, funny, and just about as adorable as a person can be. She and Gleeson have excellent chemistry, and it's readily apparent why he should go through all the trouble with the timey wimey stuff to get the woman of his dreams. The two lovebirds, along with the comically sublime Nighy, perfectly anchor About Time, making sure the clichés don't rob the film of its heart.
        The few sins that Curtis' film does commit—it's a little on the long side, and there's no denying that it can be a bit on the nose—are swept away by the utter charm (there's that word again) and wit of the whole thing. If you're like me, and you enjoy movies on the sweeter side, then you'll probably love this one. Balanced by a wry sense of humor (Tom Hollander is excellent as Tim's hilariously bitter landlord) and a deeper understanding of life than you'd expect, About Time brushes past its average contemporaries with ease. Twenty years ago, Groundhog Day became a modern classic by digging for profundity where no one expected it, and Richard Curtis' film follows in its footsteps in the best way possible. A meditation on love, life, and loss, About Time recognizes that there's more to romance than simply falling in love and living happily ever after. 9/10

Flight

Originally posted to the DMI Review on 3/17/13

Flying High

by Hunter Isham

        When I first heard that Robert Zemeckis, director of such classics as Back to the Future and Forrest Gump, was set to make his return to live-action filmmaking with Flight, I was just barely intrigued. His decade-long hiatus was due not to any self-imposed retirement, but rather his infatuation with and support of motion-capture technology. His work with that method of filmmaking, including The Polar Express, Beowulf, and A Christmas Carol, was admirable but a bit of a mixed bag, so his eventual return to live-action was eagerly awaited by many. So why wasn't I, someone who counts Zemeckis' work among my favorite films, excited about Flight? The very little I knew about it, that Denzel Washington was the lead, a pilot, seemed uninteresting. Would this be some modern Top Gun? (I had assumed Washington was playing some kind of military pilot). As it turns out, Zemeckis had signed on to direct a moving character drama about an airline pilot coming to grips with his substance abuse issues after saving nearly every person aboard his craft during a routine flight gone wrong.
        Zemeckis has pointed out that he wishes audiences could go into a film completely cold, unaware of any character or story details, which would have lent his film a good deal of surprise in its opening moments. We see Whip Whitaker (Washington) indulging in more than a few drinks, and some cocaine, just before suiting up and heading to the airport for his morning flight. The scene is still effective without the shock-value, introducing the audience to a man who is at once wildly out of control yet completely in control of the situation. He's charming even as he seemingly puts his passengers' lives in danger, greeting them at the front of the plane as, just out of sight and with one hand, he makes himself a screwdriver for a little pre-flight pick-me-up. The story quickly progresses when, as the film's trailer shows, something goes horribly wrong, and to stabilize the diving aircraft Whip decides to roll the plane upside down as part of an emergency landing. Upon waking up in a hospital, cable news and a pilots' union rep (Bruce Greenwood) filling in the pieces for him, Whip eventually finds out that blood was drawn, and an investigation is underway to discover the true nature of what went wrong and if he had anything to do with it. From that point on the story becomes a bit quieter; focusing on Whip's personal demons and the relationships in his life, but it never once loses its grip on you. To go into any more detail would simply squander the work done by the cast in this character-driven film.
        Washington leads a fine ensemble in what is one of his best performances, taking a man with inherently terrible habits (especially given his profession), and making him instantly charming, never once allowing him to become a two-dimensional character we should either hate or feel sorry for. Kelly Reilly, a British actress perhaps best known for her role as Mrs. John Watson in the Robert Downey, Jr. Sherlock Holmes films, is wonderful as a southern woman who struggles with addiction as well, becoming a companion and confidant for Whip. Bruce Greenwood, aforementioned as Whip's union rep, and Don Cheadle, as Whip's lawyer from the airline, are both strong as they struggle to protect their hurting client. James Badge Dale is a standout as a cancer patient Washington and Reilly encounter in a hospital stairwell, imbuing the film with some of the humor that makes it such an enjoyable experience, although the one performer who truly steals the show here is John Goodman. As Whip's hippie drug dealer, Goodman hilariously dominates in his two scenes, remaining just as memorable as Washington despite his small amount of screen time in this two and half hour film. There is nary a weak link in Flight's cast, with both the veterans and the fresh faces turning in fine performances.
        Although Washington is perhaps the main the reason the film works, the great original script by John Gatins and excellent cast are all brought together with considerable skill by director Zemeckis. He is certainly known for flashy (if still substantive) films, including not just his Back to the Future trilogy but also the technically marvelous Who Framed Roger Rabbit, but Zemeckis restricts his flair to the opening crash, allowing tight but simple direction to guide the rest of the story. That crash, however, is about as white-knuckle intense as it gets, feeling about as real as possible, and recalling in my mind moments like the spacecraft re-entry in Apollo 13. This scene is a bit more fantastical, given the choice to roll the plane, but the effects are top-notch, never once seeming false or over-the-top. Although the emergency landing is what film fans will remember as Zemeckis' shining moment in Flight, other scenes demonstrate his great skill, such as one late in the film when Whip confronts his demons, the camera lingering on a miniature bottle of vodka as the audience waits to see what happens next.
        Flight is a surprising film, not the one I expected, and better than I ever hoped it would be. Denzel Washington gives a wonderful performance, simultaneously vulnerable, funny, and strong, alongside a cast of similarly remarkable turns by a cast at the top of its game. Zemeckis deftly weaves it all together, the moments of action, humor, and drama, to create something uniquely excellent. This film is a big-budget drama not based on history or a best-selling novel, a breed of film that has quietly begun to disappear. Flight may not be groundbreaking, nor is it the best movie of the year, but it's a damn fine film with a cast and crew that's never been better. Sit back, buckle-up, and make sure your seats and tray-tables are in the upright position, because you're in for a heart-pounding, emotionally turbulent ride. 9/10

The Heat

Originally posted to the DMI Review on 7/8/13

(Insert funny title of choice here.)

by Hunter Isham

        The Heat is a very likable and often very funny comedy. It's also a bit ordinary, leaving something to be desired that I can't quite put my finger on. It stars Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy as an FBI agent and Boston police detective, respectively, on the trail of a drug lord. Bullock's agent Ashburn is a type-A, promotion-minded hotshot who isn't shy about demonstrating why she's such a good agent. She's also very buttoned down and by the book, which contrasts strongly with McCarthy's rough, tough, and slobbish Detective Mullins. Two fine comedic actresses can take this premise a long way, and a good script can take it even further, and that's what happens in The Heat, but for everything it gets right, the film still coms up short as the excellent whole it should be.
        A lot of credit must be given to Bullock and McCarthy, as they keep this film afloat. Those of you who've listened to the DMI Review Podcast may know that I've never been a big fan of Sandra Bullock; not because I think she's a bad actress, but because it's rare that I see her in good films (or rather in films that seem good enough to see). She was very good in Speed and The Blind Side, the latter a case where I think she was better than her film, and she is equally good here. Bullock is able to play an abrasive character with charm and a bit of sadness, not to mention a goofy bewilderment when she and McCarthy work on their case. Where Ashburn is uptight and restrained, Mullins is loose, vulgar, and unfiltered, something McCarthy similarly delivers with just the right amount of likability and repulsive tendencies. Together, they make for a team where from scene to scene we can root for at least root for one of them, if not both, when they square off against each other before facing the real bad guys. The rest of the cast is filled out with comic talents who all perform perfectly, including Tom Wilson (Biff from Back to the Future), Saturday Night Live's Taran Killam, Arrested Development's Tony Hale, Marlon Wayans, Veep's Dan Bakkedahl (fantastic as an albino DEA agent), and Jane Curtin, woefully underused but still plenty hilarious.
        Director Paul Feig and writer Katie Dippold keep the jokes and sight gags coming at a quick pace with never a dull moment to be found, but the plot is never particularly compelling, which is really what holds the film back from something more. What they could have added I don't know, as it's already quite entertaining, but I suppose it lacks a sense of invention. Its pieces are all pretty funny, but the whole leaves something to be desired, something that may have only been remedied had this film been made years ago when the buddy cop comedy genre was a bit fresher. The presence of two strong female leads in this kind of film is something of a revelation, one that should have occurred much earlier, because at least providing different gendered versions of familiar characters allows talents such as Bullock and McCarthy to deliver finely tuned comic performances that might otherwise have been a bit hard to come by.
        The Heat is a very funny film in need of more than just a framework on which to attach jokes. Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy make the film worth the price of admission, creating a fine comedic chemistry that they can hopefully rekindle in future films. Neither actress is one that I've followed before, but I look forward to seeing what they do next, especially McCarthy, as I know she has a range beyond vulgar comedy, and Bullock herself has proven to be a talent far better than the material she's often given. Comedy is of course a very tough thing to pull off, so I can be thankful that The Heat is as entertaining as it is, not to mention that gives a lot of quality material to two very funny women. At the end of the day, I guess it's a lot to ask that a comedy provide more than just a bunch of laughs, but when the alternative looks like Grown Ups 2, I'll happily take The Heat any day. 8/10

Star Trek Into Darkness

Originally posted to the DMI Review on 6/25/13

Boldly going? Kind of.

by Hunter Isham

        J.J. Abrams' Star Trek Into Darkness is a film that's often at odds with itself. Abrams and his team of writer/producers aim to create a Trek that is faithful to what has come before yet broad enough to attract a wide audience. A "Star Wars Audience," if you will. 2009's Star Trek was successful in doing this, creating an action-packed adventure that told the story of how Kirk, Spock, and the rest of the crew wound up on the bridge of the Enterprise. It found the balance between the character-driven, cerebral formula that is the basis for the best of the Trek films and the awe-inspiring set pieces that can quicken one's pace and put a crowd in the seats. I remember telling people that the 2009 Trek was "smart entertainment," and it still is, but it's sequel strains to go in both of the aforementioned directions, leaving a final product that is very entertaining at first glance, but lacks the logic that makes Star Trek tick.
        The last film, which established these new adventures as taking place in a separate timeline than those of the original Shatner/Nimoy films*, brought Kirk and co. through the academy and gave them the Enterprise. This film is purportedly about them truly earning the right to serve on that ship, and sure enough, the crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise is put to the test by facing a very powerful nemesis (no Trek pun intended). Into Darkness opens with a rousing opening that would feel at home in an Indiana Jones adventure before introducing us to John Harrison (Benedict Cumberbatch, pictured above), a rogue member of Starfleet whom Kirk must track down. From that point on the story gets into spoiler territory, including the big reveal of Harrison's actual identity (or is he just John Harrison?).
        Did I say big reveal? Well, for someone like myself who's followed every stage of production for this film, I can honestly say that Harrison's identity did not need to be a secret. Trekkers figured that he was probably who he turned out to be (if you really want to know, click here), and for those who've never seen Star Trek (or at least no more than the 2009 outing), the reveal held no weight. Abrams and co. have taken a legendary Trek villain and made his identity the central mystery to a film that is supposed to appeal to the masses. I'm not angry about it, but their marketing campaign could probably have drawn even more of that broad audience on the villain's name recognition alone. The mystery wrapped inside of an enigma here is luckily not the film's only surprise, and the other twists work in a more classically story-driven manner.
        What continues to work well in this rebooted Trek universe is the excellent cast that populates this film. Chris Pine takes Captain Kirk to a new emotional depth while Zachary Quinto brings more humanity to the inherently logical Mr. Spock. Scotty, one of my favorite characters from the previous film, thankfully gets quite a bit to do here, and Simon Pegg makes a great comic foil for the serious tone Into Darkness takes as it progresses. Zoë Saldana, though not given as much to do as in the last film, is still good as Uhura, giving more depth to a previously (in the original films) somewhat underwritten character. John Cho and Anton Yelchin, though also not terribly active this time around, are still fine as Sulu and Chekhov, respectively. Cumberbatch is excellent as the villain, even if the part could have been better written, and I hope he is given the opportunity to return to Star Trek someday. Bruce Greenwood returns as Admiral Pike, while Peter Weller effectively imposes fear as Admiral Marcus. Last, and unfortunately kind of least, is Alice Eve, who has little to do as Dr. Carol Marcus (a love interest for Kirk from the original Star Trek II), and who will hopefully be a fine addition with a fleshed out role in the inevitable sequel.
        The cast, though given lopsided attention, is uniformly great, and they can only be let down by their script. Alex Kurtzman, Roberto Orci, and Damon Lindelof have crafted a screenplay that has plenty of fun action and some funny one-liners, but ultimately it cannot decide how to handle its villain. Cumberbatch is given a great scene to play where he explains his true identity and how he came to be a fugitive of Starfleet. This moment, and some interesting beats involving Weller's Admiral Marcus, are quite intriguing, but they get muddled with a sort of two-villian scenario the film paints that ultimately hinders the power of Cumberbatch as a true antagonist. That's a basic problem of how the story is constructed, but another issue for which I can't quite land on an opinion is how this film not only borrows elements from past Treks (which is perfectly acceptable), but it outright pulls scenes from them and tweaks the way they play out. This may not bother those who have no connection to the Star Trek of old, and it didn't entirely bother me, but after leaving the theater it felt like Abrams and the writers were just pandering to the fans too much (themselves included as fans). For example, someone gets to shout the villain's name in a way that evokes an original Shatnerian scene, and I liked it in the moment, but afterwards I wondered why it had to happen.
        These flaws are very specific to franchise films, and even more specific to Star Trek, and if I had not seen any of the older films, my initial reaction of, "that was pretty darn good," would have stuck with me. Don't get me wrong, this film is still a thrilling action-packed, popcorn movie that doesn't insult the audience's intelligence, but that reliance on spectacle isn't so inline with Gene Roddenberry's vision of Star Trek, and aping the previous films is not the best way to hold onto some of what makes Star Trek the smart space-bound series that it is. This film ends (after a lackluster bit of final action), however, with something that everyone can appreciate. The Original Series' five year mission to boldly go where no one has gone before is about to begin, and here's hoping that next time, Star Trek takes its own advice and forges a new path that reminds us why we love it while demonstrating how it can still surprise us. 8/10


*Check out the 2009 Star Trek if you want to understand this dynamic (which explains an appearance by Nimoy in Into Darkness).

Skyfall

Originally posted to the DMI Review on 7/3/13

Nobody Does It Better

by Hunter Isham

        2012 saw the James Bond film franchise turn 50, an event that called for much celebration. Retrospectives were done, books were released, and DVD/Blu-ray sets were cobbled together for sale, but the one thing every Bond fan could look forward to was the release of the 23rd film in the franchise, Skyfall. This would mark Daniel Craig's third outing as Bond, and the first in four years, what seems like an eternity in sequel-years*. Skyfall would also be a redemption of sorts after the maligned Quantum of Solace took Craig's hardened, realistic Bond from 2006's Casino Royale and pushed him further away from what we know the character to be. Thankfully, Skyfall is not The Bond Identity, but rather a thoughtful, franchise-changing film that rights the course for future films by mixing just the right amount of the old Bond charm with a post-9/11 espionage mentality that doesn't take itself too lightly.
        Unlike Quantum of Solace, which was a direct continuation of the story told in Casino Royale, Skyfall tells an independent story that brings an emotional heft to the relationship Bond has with his profession, his country, and his boss, M, once again played by the excellent Judi Dench. The film opens with a rousing chase through Istanbul, including motorcycles atop the roof of the Grand Bazaar and a fantastic sequence on a speeding train, as Bond and fellow agent Eve (Naomie Harris) are hot on the tail of an assassin who has stolen a hard drive containing the identities of every undercover agent from the nations belonging to NATO. M makes a quick call that leads to a terrible accident (those who know the film's marketing likely know what it is, but I'll keep this review spoiler-free), costing her the drive, and as we soon find out, her job. Government official Gareth Mallory (Ralph Fiennes) is brought in to oversee M's transition out of power as she herself instructs Bond to hunt down who is targeting her and putting MI6 at risk.
        Aside from the Bond actors themselves, the James Bond films have always had good casts, with talents such as Robert Shaw, Diana Rigg, Christopher Lee, John Rhys-Davies, Sean Bean, Jonathan Pryce, and Halle Berry appearing alongside their respective 007s as friends, foes, or a mixture of the two. Skyfall is no different in this respect, with the returning Craig and Dench joined by Albert Finney, Ben Whishaw (as the new Q), the aforementioned Ralph Fiennes, and Javier Bardem as the film's sure-to-be-classic villain Raoul Silva. Bardem steals the show anytime he's on screen, a bleached-blonde, flamboyant hacker who seeks revenge against the institution, and woman, that betrayed him long ago. Naomie Harris and Bérénice Marlohe make for fine Bond girls, the former playing the field agent 007 works, flirts, and jokes with, while the latter plays one of Silva's pawns, caught in an unfortunate situation Bond could possibly remedy. Although both Harris and Marlohe fit the more traditional mold of a Bond girl, they don't have as much screen time as their predecessors, and that's because it's Dench who is front and center as the woman in Bond's life in Skyfall. The film explores the quasi-maternal relationship she has with 007 (who was an orphan, after all), something that informs Silva's motivations, and Dench and Craig play this relationship beautifully, especially as the film nears its conclusion. Although it likely doesn't need to be stated, Craig continues to inhabit the role of James Bond with a distinct tough exterior and playful attitude that makes the part his own, the latter characteristic being something that the writers sought to restore to Bond after a fairly dower Quantum of Solace.
        The screenplay for Skyfall, written by Bond veterans Neal Purvis and Robert Wade, along with franchise newcomer John Logan, is a key element of what makes the film work. It returns the trademark sense of humor that this film series has long been identified with, all the while adjusting and strengthening the darker tone set by the reboot that was Casino Royale. That film got away with quite a few departures given that it was essentially Bond's origin story, so if all the key ingredients weren't there, we could forgive them, enjoy the new and exciting ride, and expect to see those things in the next film. But that didn't happen, and so Skyfall became the reboot of the rebooted Bond, and the work done by Purvis, Wade, and Logan deftly balances paying homage to tradition and forging a new path. Producers Barbara Broccoli and Michael G. Wilson were wise to hire the creative team they did, and perhaps the most important hire of the entire crew was director Sam Mendes. An Academy Award winner for his film American Beauty, Mendes is the kind of non-action director that few would normally consider for a Bond film, but he turned out to be the one person who made it all come together.
        One thing that many hated about Quantum of Solace was its shaky, quickly edited action sequences, something familiar to Bourne fans, so one of the immediately noticeable differences in Skyfall is the steady camera that keeps everything in the frame, easy to see and understand. Yet another visual piece of Skyfall's success is its absolutely gorgeous digital cinematography by Roger Deakins, a Mendes and Cohen brothers regular who has created with Mendes a beautiful set of images; from the neon-clad skyscrapers of Shanghai to the fog covered moors of Scotland, everything is stunning. Team Mendes also includes composer Thomas Newman, who delivers a very Bondian score with not just a proper use of the classic theme, but also some electric guitar-infused moments that remind us that this is a James Bond film, not just another spy thriller. Another quintessentially Bond element that is a massive success here is Adele's title song, which invokes the Shirley Bassey tunes of old while delivering some ominous themes for the film's story as it plays over the wonderful opening credits. I can't say whether or not Mendes had a hand in approaching Adele for the theme (I think it may have been the producers), but her work is undoubtedly excellent, and well-deserving of that Best Song Oscar. Overall, watching Skyfall, I could easily tell that a great director was at the helm, because my mind was always on the film, and I was completely wrapped up in the story and spectacle on the screen before me.
        Now, that would seem like a fine place to end this review, but I'm trying to break the world record for longest film review I think it would be a wasted opportunity if I didn't address some complaints I've heard expressed about this film. One concern is that Skyfall is too dark, or even joyless when placed alongside the lighter (but in no way lesser) fair that Sean Connery took part in, and while I can't deny that, I think the James Bond film series is the rare entity that needs to evolve with the times, and with the Bond of the moment. Connery was a winking balance of sly, suave, and powerful, Roger Moore was far goofier yet still refined, Timothy Dalton was cold and intense, and Pierce Brosnan was an action hero blended with a Bond not too dissimilar to Connery's. Daniel Craig gives us a 007 along the lines of what Dalton attempted in the late 1980s, a cold killer (something closer to Bond creator Ian Flemming's original vision), although he adds his own level of charm and wit that brings to mind Connery's work. The Bond franchise has always evolved with time, and with Skyfall it's found the right way to introduce a more serious atmosphere to its inherently playful world. The one other major criticism I've heard voiced about this film is that its action is too big and bombastic, essentially a great deal of noise. Compared to Dr. No, the 23rd Bond film does seem like a Transformers movie, but looking back at the 007 outings from 1987 onwards (I'm less familiar with Moore's films) reveals Bond has been in the middle of an action extravaganza series for more than two decades, and Skyfall handles the action quite artfully compared to some of the recent Bond films.
        I'm sure we'd all like to see Sean Connery back in that classic Aston Martin as his 1960s self, but ever since George Lazenby and Roger Moore inherited the role of Bond from Connery (the Grover Cleaveland of 007s), it's been understood that once an actor leaves the role, their interpretation of the character can never live twice. Daniel Craig has proven to be a worthy successor to the Bonds that came before, and Skyfall only enforces that he's the right 007 for our times. Sam Mendes' entry in the James Bond franchise has set a new standard for this long-enduring series. Following legendary work that's come before is an unbelievably daunting task, let alone altering a tone and formula that's been so successful in the past, but when it comes to rebooting a franchise, charting a new course for the future, nobody's done it better. 10/10



*The first four Bond films starring Sean Connery were released four years in a row, from 1962 to 1965.


The über-mega-length review returns! And I thought my Man of Steel review was long. Well, I suppose a 50 year old franchise demands quite a few words.

Man of Steel

Originally posted to the DMI Review on 7/1/13

Grounding Superman

by Hunter Isham

        It's been seven years since we last saw Superman on the big screen, and that film, Bryan Singer's Superman Returns, came up a bit short where Zack Snyder's Man of Steel succeeds, although the opposite can be said as well. Returns was both a throwback to and continuation of the Richard Donner Superman films that starred the irreplaceable Christopher Reeve, even featuring the now famous John Williams march that helped the audience believe that a man could fly. It's moments of reverence proved to be what held it back from being the smash hit Warner Bros. wanted, and so here we are, with Christopher Nolan's (a writer/producer on this film) Dark Knight Trilogy concluded, a shortage of DC Comics characters on the screen, and the competitors at Marvel riding high on their Avengers-laiden cinematic universe. Superman is arguably a bigger cinematic hero than Batman (or at least he was before Nolan's films), and if Warner Bros. wants to reach Marvel-ous heights without rebooting and retreading Gotham's caped crusader, they need a fiscally robust Clark Kent to propel them forward.
        Reversing directions of the often upbeat Superman Returns, the studio accepted a story pitch from Nolan and co-writer (and sole screenwriter) David S. Goyer that poses the question of how humanity would react if it found an individual as strong as Superman among its own. An essentially indestructible, one-man weapon of mass destruction. We'd probably be wary that his interests lay with our own. This, and the film's non-linear structure, are what give it an interesting edge, and they're what make the film worth seeing. Somewhat strangely, the film begins to stumble as it heads into its massive action climax, but at least they deliver enough story in the first half to make me want to see the next installment.
        That story is a smartly rewritten and rearranged version of the origin story we all know, the one that is prominently featured in Richard Donner's Superman: The Movie. Kal-El, born on Krypton to Lara (Ayelet Zurer) and Jor-El (Russell Crowe), is sent from his soon to be destroyed planet to Earth, home to flawed but potentially capable individuals. After crash landing in Kansas, he's discovered and raised by Jonathan and Martha Kent (Kevin Costner and Diane Lane). Swap in Marlon Brando for Crowe and we're back in 1978 again, right? Wrong. This Krypton is more than the background for a quick prologue, it's the fuel that keeps the villain crusading against Superman, not to mention a cinematic science fiction marvel to look at. Once Kal-El leaves his homeworld, the majority of the film is spent in the present day, as a grown up Clark Kent (Henry Cavill) lives out his days as a drifter intent on using his world-changing powers as little as possible. The film often flashes back to Clark's younger years, when he learns to reconcile his human home with his alien abilities, all under the guidance of his adopted father. When Clark eventually discovers who he really is (this time under the guidance of a simulated Jor-El), he begins his journey as the Man of Steel, a process that is accelerated as the last survivors of Krypton, a militant group led by the snarling General Zod (Michael Shannon), come looking for him.
        All of this works fairly well, but my enjoyment of the film was suspended as the following action continued. It begins with a good ol' brawl in Smallville (the Kents' hometown), and it continues into Metropolis. But then it ends... until it continues some more. If you see Man of Steel, you'll know what I mean. Part of the problem with the Metropolis action is the sheer scope of damage done to the city (quite a bit is already done to Smallville). Buildings collapse and city blocks are razed, leaving me wondering how the big blue boy scout could allow so much collateral damage. Even forgiving that destruction, the mass-anihilation that occurs during Superman's final confrontation with General Zod will make your jaw hit the floor given that it's just two people fighting. Punching most often, which is another problem entirely; after so much action, the super-sonic punches that the Kryptonians deliver to each other get a bit derivative (there is some human action going on as well, but not as much). Much of the action in Man of Steel is quite spectacular, but don't count on leaving your seat until the last punch has been thrown, not that you should or could keep count.
        As you may have guessed, the character elements of this film are its saving graces, and a lot of that has to do with its wonderful cast. Henry Cavill, though not given as much of the character's trademark levity as Reeve, is perfect for the role of Clark Kent/Superman, providing the proper amount of confusion and solemnity, with just a few sly remarks that inform where this character is headed in the sequel. Crowe is solid as the regal and intelligent Jor-El, although it's Costner who tugs at your heart strings as the young hero's moral center. He brings Jonathan Kent a wisdom and uncertainty that informs this film's take on the character of Superman, guiding his son as to when the right time will be to step up and become the hero he was born to be. Diane Lane, though not given as much to do, is equally good, struggling to help her son deal with his inherent differences. Michael Shannon is appropriately angry and imposing as General Zod, although he lacks the trademark interesting quirks of a Joker, or (as is the case in the Superman mythology) a Lex Luthor. One of the film's undeniable strengths, a character and actress I have yet to mention, is Amy Adams' Lois Lane. Superman's persona of "Clark Kent, bumbling reporter" doesn't really appear until the film's conclusion, so there's no screwball comedy intrigue between the thinly veiled Superman and his whip smart colleague. Instead, Adams gives us an intrepid reporter who is tracking a mysterious, godlike drifter, until their paths eventually cross (this film doesn't waste time by retreading a will they/won't they scenario involving Kent's true identity). Lane has plenty to do in Man of Steel, and we can be thankful for the fact that she will likely have even more in any future films. The rest of the cast is excellent, including Harry Lennix and Christopher Meloni as members of the U.S. military, Richard Schiff (Toby from The West Wing!) as a military scientist, and Laurence Fishburne as Perry White, Editor in Chief of The Daily Planet.
        Man of Steel is an attempt to ground Superman in a more serious reality, much like Christopher Nolan's treatment of Batman. Director Zack Snyder and his creative team mostly succeed, forging a new path for the character, although they go too dark at times, losing the winking humor the character is known for, and making the action too thunderously derivative of itself to enjoy beyond a certain point. The fantastic cast saves the film, as does an invigorating score by Hans Zimmer that bares no resemblance to the Williams music, making this the rare summer movie that does more right with its characters than it does with its action. If you make it through to the film's climax, its epilogue will hopefully leave you with the notion that Superman is in the right hands, headed in the right direction, even if he faces his share of turbulence on the way there. I'm more than curious to see where Snyder and Goyer take Clark Kent, as I hope we get a few more jokes and a more interesting foe next time. Man of Steel is the Superman film we asked for, if not the one we need, and if the filmmakers keep listening to the audience, we may actually get the Superman movie we deserve. 7.75/10



P.S. I saw this film in 2D Imax (the film already has a drab, desaturated look, so the tint from 3D glasses will likely make for an unpleasant viewing experience), and while it looked great on a massive screen, its very loud soundtrack was too much to handle on the powerful sound system that comes with those 70 ft. screens. It may have just been where I saw the film, but if you value your ability to hear things, you may want to go with a conventional screening.

42

Originally posted to the DMI Review on 4/14/13

A Good Ol' Fashioned American Hero

by Hunter Isham

        Every time a new film comes out, one that I'm looking forward to, I do something I really shouldn't. I read the reviews. Yes, I'm fully aware of the irony. I guess I should be a bit more specific: I read too many reviews. Sometimes I'm just afraid of spoilers, in which case I refer to just a few sentences from favorite critics and Rotten Tomatoes to guide my expectations, then going back to read the reviews once I've seen the film. In the case of a film like 42, one which doesn't offer a story of twists and surprises, I just don't want reviews to spoil the experience. I had the same problem with Lincoln, as both that film and 42 are movies I had read about for years, and eagerly anticipated once they actually came to fruition. Those of you familiar with my personal taste in film will understand why my interest in this Jackie Robinson biopic increased exponentially when Harrison Ford signed on to play Brooklyn Dodgers general manager Branch Rickey, a chance for a dramatic turn in a quality film (I may love Ford's work, but I don't delude myself about many of his recent films). Needless to say, I was looking forward to 42, and then reviews started pouring in, some criticizing the film for its "hagiographic" portrayal of Robinson. You know what? They're right, but it's still a good film.
        42 covers the years of 1945 to 1947, during which time a young African American man named Jack Roosevelt Robinson went from being a shortstop for the Kansas City Monarchs (a Negro League team) to being the first baseman for the Brooklyn Dodgers. Did I mention that Robinson became the first black player in Major League Baseball when he joined Dem Bums from Brooklyn? Well, you probably knew that already, and the film doesn't pretend that you aren't familiar with Jackie Robinson and his achievements in baseball. By focusing on such a relatively brief period of Robinson's life, the audience can go on that journey with him, not reveling so much in his talent as his perseverance. A great scene in the film encapsulates its approach to Robinson's struggle, when Rickey pressures his prospective new player to tell him if he can handle an angry, inert white world. Robinson asks if Rickey wants a player who has the guts to fight back. "No!" barks the manger, "I want a player who's got the guts not to fight back." As Rickey and his scouts establish at the film's start, there were plenty of talented ballplayers in the Negro Leagues, but they needed someone who would neither crack under the pressure nor explode in a fit of rage when faced with rampant bigotry.
       This inner strength, as well as charm, humor, and just a hint of naïveté, is brought to life by Chadwick Boseman, the relative unknown tasked with the "American Legend" the film's posters and trailers proclaim Robinson to be. Boseman is excellent in the role, although it doesn't hurt that I have no real perception of Robinson aside from him being a trailblazing man in a Dodgers uniform. Jackie Robinson is an American Legend, more than earning that capital "L," although unlike more historically distant figures like Abraham Lincoln and George Washington, Robinson's place in our popular culture is still being established by films like 42 (although the famous Dodger played himself in 1950's The Jackie Robinson Story). Most people know who he is, but many, like myself, don't really know the man behind the number. This film does fall prey to giving us a legendary man, rather than a man who became a legend, never showing us any of Robinson's faults*. Despite this, Boseman acquits himself quite nicely, creating a three-dimensional person with Robinson's charisma and fortitude alone.
        Just as Boseman shines as Jackie, Harrison Ford gives an equally charming performance as Branch Rickey, the irascible, humorously crusading manager who made it his personal mission to integrate baseball. As stated above, Ford is a favorite of mine, and by inhabiting the role of a famously colorful individual, he is given the chance to switch out his fedora and bullwhip for yet another fedora (brim turned up) and an endless stream of ever-present cigars. I've heard Ford's Rickey called "cartoonish," but with an understanding of Rickey's real-life flair, the performance seems less exaggerated and more grounded with each passing minute of his screen time. For all of Ford's great work here, the character nearly becomes a caricature before being sufficiently fleshed out with an eleventh-hour scene in which Rickey explains to Robinson his personal motivation for integrating the game.
        Now, as I readily admit at the start of this review, 42 is indeed a bit of hagiography in the name of the patron saint of baseball. The film is about as earnest as it could be, and its racist antagonists seem to share an archetypical Jim Crow mindset, but this doesn't really hurt the film. Once again, Jackie Robinson is now a legend, but he's yet to be given marble monuments, or his face carved into the side of a mountain, so a film that paints him in a pretty great light can be forgiven for at least not being a retread of the (non-existant) countless films and tributes that have come before**. 42 was written and directed by Brian Helgeland (Oscar winner for co-writing the fantastic L.A. Confidential), and his passion for the subject matter is evident, although his reverence for it is what can occasionally drain the film of its power. It's not even that the film's poorly written, but rather that it's a very old fashioned approach, and as one review I read noted, it's not dissimilar to the kind of film in which Jimmy Stewart would feel at home. Throw in a score that, like the script, is on occasion just a bit too much, and you'll readily understand why the film falls short of being legendary itself. Mark Isham's (no relation) work here is reminiscent of Randy Newman's triumphant sounds from The Natural (a baseball flick I've yet to see), and for the most part it is effective, if not quite memorable. The last thing that, to this reviewer, held 42 back ever so slightly was its direction by Helgeland, framing many of his shots in a fairly basic way. Once more, this is nothing bad, just ordinary, although the scenes out on the field have a certain electricity and energy to them, giving the most dynamic parts of the film the most dynamic camera work.
        42 is most definitely a film that will be remembered, and probably loved by many. It is not a modern American masterpiece, nor the best sports film of recent years (that honor belongs to Moneyball; Go Athletics!), but it is a pretty good portrait of, and tribute to, one of the most admirable athletes of the last century. Jackie Robinson did something extraordinary when he was given the chance by Branch Rickey, and together those men ushered in a new way of life not just in baseball, but in the country that calls that game its favorite pastime. God knows America has enough legendary heroes to fawn over, but there are those that, despite their true dimensions or faults, really do deserve the same old fashioned treatment Gary Cooper might've gotten. Something has to keep our legends legendary. Maybe its a towering monument, or maybe its a film that wears on its sleeve the love of a certain game and the man who changed it forever. 8/10



*I don't know that he had any faults worth depicting, but his politics and thoughts on race in America post-baseball career are apparently a different dimension worthy of a look.

**I realize that Jackie Robinson and his achievements (both as a the first black baseball player and as a great player in general) are well known and well remembered by many familiar with American culture, but for generations born after Robinson's time in the sun (and for those of us who aren't baseball historians), there haven't been many mainstream portrayals, or presentations, of this man. I've always known him as a pioneer ballplayer, but that's the same as knowing Lincoln was president, and nothing more. People should know a little more about their legends.

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

Originally posted to the DMI Review on 3/7/13

A Review Redux

by Hunter Isham

        I used as the title for my review of Lincoln a quote from the film that is as follows: "I could write shorter sermons, but when I get started I'm too lazy to stop." I knew ahead of time that the quote would sum up the length of that review, but I may have gone overboard with my recent review of The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey. I had a ton of time to kill (I was on a car ride back from Los Angeles at the time), and simply kept writing... and writing. To make an excruciatingly long story short, my review became more of an analysis and explanation of the film as part of a greater whole (the eventual Hobbit trilogy). I've decided to take another stab at a more conventional (and God willing shorter) review, although my longer look at the film is still available to read. Enter with caution, as you may end up looking like Bilbo Baggins in the above photograph. But now for something shorter...

        Peter Jackson's return to Middle-earth, the first of his three part adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit, will likely be an enchanting and exciting experience for those who truly relish the opportunity to visit this unique cinematic world. I count myself among the Jackson-Tolkien faithful (although I'm not a big fan of the books), so I was probably going to enjoy the film despite its flaws. The good news is that An Unexpected Journey is a fun adventure film, filled with humor, heart, and some spectacular visuals. The bad news is that this film feels a bit bloated as it works out a great deal of introductory and expository details that will hopefully pay off in the forthcoming installments.

        For the unfamiliar, The Hobbit, Tolkien's first (and originally standalone) Middle-earth adventure, tells the story of Bilbo Baggins, the titular hobbit, as he is recruited by the wizard Gandalf the Grey to join a band of thirteen dwarves seeking to reclaim their homeland and fortune from the devious dragon Smaug. This tale is smaller in scale and gravity than that told in The Lord of the Rings, and the work Jackson and his writing partners Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens have done to expand the narrative (mostly based on additional texts by Tolkien, but sometimes by their own creation) helps to elevate the status of the story from fun trifle to relevant precursor. Although the modified story becomes this film's greatest detractor, there is too much to like, from the cast to the always great production values, for this film to be a disappointment. Is it Lord of the Rings? No, but then again it was never meant to be. It is, however, a perfectly charming return to Middle-earth.

        An Unexpected Journey is an expectedly enjoyable romp due largely to the efforts of the wonderful cast, led by Martin Freeman (BBC's The Office and Sherlock) as Bilbo. He takes the eventually tired adventurer of Rings and makes him a fussy, reluctant hero coerced into embracing a spirited heritage of perilous exploits. Pushing Bilbo out the round door of his comfy hobbit hole is Ian McKellan's Gandalf, just as lovably grumpy and wise as he was ten years ago in The Return of the King. The band of dwarves is a colorful assortment of fun performances (and Academy Award nominated hair and makeup work), but their leader, Thorin Oakenshield, is the true standout with a regal ferocity afforded him by Richard Armitage. Returning cast members such as Cate Blanchett, Hugo Weaving, Christopher Lee, Elijah Wood, and Ian Holm all get nice moments to shine and further weave Hobbit DNA with that of Rings, and Andy Serkis is brilliant once more as the creature Gollum. Some new, non-dwarven faces pop up as well, including Barry Humphries (known to the world as Dame Edna) as the computer motion captured Great Goblin.

        The accomplished group of actors who breathe life into The Hobbit are accompanied by the behind scenes artists who work their own kind of Middle-earth magic on the production. Sets, such as Bilbo's home (Bag End) and the Elven residence of Rivendell, are just as inviting and beautifully rendered on the screen as they were in the Rings trilogy, while the New Zealand locations continue to amaze viewers with their inherent natural beauty. The aforementioned Oscar nomination for hair and makeup is well-earned, giving each of the thirteen dwarves distinct faces and beards, not to mention the many other characters that populate this cinematic universe. Andrew Lesnie, Jackson's frequent cinematographic collaborator, once again captures every image with a beautiful sheen, creating images further enlivened by another fantastic score by Rings veteran Howard Shore. His work here is yet another piece of the cinematic puzzle that weaves together this developing trilogy with the previous films. The script by Jackson, Walsh, and Boyens, though somewhat erratically paced, is ultimately a humorous and adventurous one. Everything comes together under Jackson's swift direction, finding a nice balance between character and action.

        I can feel reader fatigue setting in, so I'll start to wrap it up. As for the elephant in the room, Jackson and co.'s decision to make an elephant-sized trilogy out of a hobbit-sized novel (and the use of a higher frame rate), I will simply say that I don't feel cheated, and the future films seem promising. You can look to my longer write-up for more information and analysis than you'll ever want or need to know about the subject. I'm a long-winded writer, so even this shorter review isn't as short as it probably could be, but what can I say? I'm a fan of Middle-earth on the big screen, and I'm more than happy to journey there and back again... and again and again. If you loved Peter Jackson's The Lord of Rings then you will likely enjoy this film (with appropriately adjusted expectations), one which is filled with light-hearted fun and daring adventure. "From the smallest beginnings come the greatest legends," reads The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey's tagline, and while it may not be small, this film is no doubt the start of something big, bold, and wholly worth the long journey its makers embarked upon so long ago. 8/10

Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade

Originally posted to the DMI Review on 4/7/13

Last, but certainly not least.

by Hunter Isham

        Steven Spielberg and George Lucas' Indiana Jones adventure series is collectively my favorite movie, but I know that's cheating just a little bit. I love all four of the films, some more than others, and perhaps in time I will write about each of them for the blog. For now, I'll keep my bursting admiration to the one film I'd likely pick to have on a desert island for eternity: Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Most film series can't manage to make a good sequel, let alone a great "threequel," but then again the Indy series has long stood as one of the great cinematic sagas. The original 1981 adventure, Raiders of the Lost Ark, is often cited as the best of the bunch, as well as one of the best films of all time, and I have often agreed with that assessment, but 1989's The Last Crusade is an unbelievably fun, heartfelt thrill ride.

        Like no other Jones film before it, Last Crusade aims to give the audience more of a personal story for Indy. Opening the film in 1912, a teenaged, boy scout Indiana (well played by River Phoenix) decides to rescue an, "important artifact [that] belongs in a museum," from some robbers, a sequence that provides a great deal of background on Jones' character, with everything from his aversion to snakes to how he acquired his iconic brown fedora played out with just the right mix of gleeful action. We get a brief, off-camera introduction to the elder Dr. Jones, and then we flash forward, setting the rest of the film in motion. As with all Indy adventures, Jones is out to find what Spielberg and Lucas call a certain "McGuffin," an object that moves the story along, and as the titular crusade implies, he's on the hunt for the Holy Grail. Indy's father Henry is the family Grail expert, but he's been kidnapped, so Indiana himself must pick up where the trail went cold, all the while searching for the only family he has left.

        Last Crusade, rather than giving Indy another leading, romantic interest, focuses the heart of the film on the near-estranged relationship between the doctors Jones, exploring Henry's obsession with the Grail and his son's resentment for that life-long work. Having already appeared in Raiders and 1984's Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, there is simply no question that Harrison Ford is perfectly suited to what has arguably become his most beloved and iconic role, and one would think that casting Sean Connery, James Bond himself, as the daring archeologist's father would be a no-brainer. It is indeed brilliant casting, but not because Connery delivers the same charm and panache he brought to Bond, but rather because he makes Dr. Henry Jones a stuffy, bumbling fellow who is more at home with a book than with a bullwhip. He turns out to be the perfect cinematic companion for Indy, providing constant comic relief as they bicker and attempt to fight off the Nazis (this is, after all, an Indiana Jones film), as well as often imparting deep hurt and regret, both for not having been there for his son and for not being appreciated as the father he managed to be. Ford, given a character from his past to play off of (something not seen since Karen Allen's Marion in Raiders), makes the already human character of Indiana more vulnerable and relatable than ever before. Anytime these two icons share the screen, the result is simply cinematic magic.

        As much as Ford and Connery make Last Crusade the great film that it is, the rest of the cast is equally excellent. Denholm Elliott and John Rhys-Davies, both returning to their respective roles of Marcus Brody and Sallah from Raiders, provide a good deal of comedy as friends and accomplices to the Jones boys, especially as the film heads into its final act, and the two become key players in a wonderful action sequence. Brody in particular becomes hilariously incompetent at times as this film frees him from his university-bound part in the earlier film, giving the audience a glimpse at an academic even less-suited to raucous field work than Henry. The rest of the cast is filled out with fine performances by Allison Doody, the initial love interest for Indy when he travels to Venice, and Julian Glover as the man who hires the Joneses. The villainous Nazis are portrayed with the proper pulpy evil and occasional daftness that a film such as this requires of them.

        The Indiana Jones franchise is one that's always given the audience some great characters to join for adventures, but of course these films wouldn't be the blockbusters they are without fantastic action, and Spielberg once more does not disappoint. From the prologue's playful chase, moving from horseback to a circus train, to the final tricks and traps of the Grail's resting place, every bit of spectacle is top-notch. We get boat chases through Venice, a bi-plane dogfight, and a masterful duel between Indy and a tank, among so many other heart-racing set-pieces. That episode with the tank remains one of the more ambitious moments of the entire franchise, following several characters moving from place to place in constantly changing circumstances, yet Spielberg never once loses the audience, keeping everything important on the screen and easy to follow. The director has a great story by Lucas and Menno Meyjes to work with, and an even better screenplay that provides the tender character moments. Jeffrey Boam, a writer on a couple of the Lethal Weapon movies, is the film's only credited writer, although Spielberg has stated that an uncredited Tom Stoppard is responsible for nearly all of the film's dialogue. Whether one wrote the characters while the other handled the action is unimportant, because no matter how it was accomplished, they achieved a perfect balance between emotion and excitement.

        Although Lucas, Spielberg, and Ford are considered the Indiana Jones brain trust of writer, director, and actor that is key to making these films possible (and there's no denying that), the one other individual whose contributions to the series are just as significant and incomparable is none other than composer John Williams. With Raiders, Williams established yet another classic theme for a franchise-to-be, and the globe-trotting nature of the films has allowed him to bring new sounds and themes into each installment, creating a definite musical DNA that connects the three (and eventually four) films whose locations and plots are essentially isolated from each other, but are undoubtedly part of the same universe. Aside from the usually great themes for different locales and villains, Williams provides a father and son theme, doubling as a theme for the Grail, that completes the bond between Indiana and Henry, and which makes the heart-tugging finale a truly moving moment on film.

        I didn't warn you at the beginning of this review as I have done in the past that my zeal for certain movies, as well as their respective casts and crews, can spawn a long and winding road of admiration. As the About page notes, action/adventure is my favorite genre, Harrison Ford is my favorite actor, and as pointed out when I began this review, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade is my favorite movie of all-time. I've stated the more "professional" reasons for this film's excellence, but my love of this movie is more deeply rooted. George Lucas' original Star Wars trilogy is what first made me consider a career in filmmaking may be something I'd like, but Lucas' collaboration with Steven Spielberg (who as you may know has become may favorite director since that time) is what made me fall for movies. Hard. Here were action/adventure spectacles populated with charming, funny, romantic, vile, and evil characters, people who seemed as real as anyone despite the fantastical stories to which they belonged.

        My favorite of this series has changed over the years, but I eventually settled on The Last Crusade because of its undeniably moving story. Although the other Indiana Jones films have given us characters we can see, and feel for, as real people, this third installment is the most human. Others may consider Raiders of the Lost Ark the true masterpiece of the series, and it is a film I consider to be flawless, meanwhile viewing Last Crusade as great, but perhaps just a little bit of a retread. To be inventive three films in can be a daunting task, but I think Last Crusade's luster may only be diminished when viewed in the shadow of its earlier counterpart. Standing on its own, and as a worthy successor, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade is the thrilling, heartfelt film to which all blockbusters should aspire. Go ahead and, as the film's tagline declares, "have the adventure of your life keeping up with the Jonses." I promise you won't regret it; I know I haven't. 10/10

The Fugitive

Originally posted to the DMI Review on 9/8/13

On the run, searching for the one-armed man.

by Hunter Isham

        "A murdered wife. A one-armed man. An obsessed detective. The chase begins." That's the tagline to the 1993 thriller The Fugitive, based on the popular television show about Dr. Richard Kimble, a man wrongly convicted for the murder of his wife who sets out to find the killer, a one-armed man, while playing a game of cat and mouse with a U.S. Marshall. This film is probably the best adaptation of a TV show ever made, validated not only by strong box office and high praise from critics, but also by a slew of nominations and awards, including a nomination for Best Picture at the Academy Awards. It's a gripping film that succeeds in every way imaginable, and while I wasn't around when it was first released in August 1993, I can say that as the film turns 20 it's held up for me over the seven or so years that I've been a fan.
        Harrison Ford is Kimble, and he gives one of his best performances as a man who struggles to cope with his wife's violent death while he sets out to solve the mystery and clear his name. Ford no longer needs to prove himself in the action/thriller genre, having years of excellent genre films under his belt, but his turn as Kimble shines through what, in a lesser film, would have been mundane chases and fights. An early scene in which he's interrogated about the murder demonstrate's his truly great, and rarely recognized, ability as an actor, with Kimble's fragility at the forefront, and the now trademark Ford gruffness nowhere to be seen. Richard Kimble is hardly an action hero in the mold of Indiana Jones, and Ford perfectly plays him as a smart man caught in one desperate situation after another. Of course, the chase would seem like nothing were it not for the dedicated Marshall Samuel Gerard, played to Oscar-winning perfection by the incomparable Tommy Lee Jones. He has had many roles that perfectly suit his look and demeanor, Thaddeus Stevens in Lincoln being the most recent, and Gerard fits in with that group splendidly. However, one thing that stands out about the U.S. Marshall is his wit and spry personality. Jones is more active in The Fugitive than I had remembered, and it's wonderful to see him in a role that makes him just as much an action star as the lead character. The rest of the cast is rounded out with some familiar faces (Sela Ward, Julianne Moore, Jane Lynch, Joe Pantoliano), and they're all great in their roles, but there is simply no mistaking that this is Ford and Jones' movie.
        Director Andrew Davis takes his top-notch cast and uses it to populate a sprawling rural Illinois and Chicago, making great use of the city and some of its trademarks. One chase scene is even staged amidst the famous Saint Patrick's Day Parade, adding a bit of local flavor to the film, something that gives it a fine texture rather than a generic, forgettable big city backdrop. Davis also stages some fantastic stunts, the most breathtaking of which comes early in the film when a train barrels down the tracks toward the crashed bus carrying the convicted Kimble. A real train was used; no miniatures or computer work here. Like the tube train crashing through the old station in Skyfall, it's the kind of spectacular effects work that makes you think, "How did they pull that off? It looks so real!" Davis and his screenwriters, Jeb Stuart and David Twohy, keep things moving at a good clip, as the film never drags or speeds along too quickly. We get all of the pertinent information in a way that's both clear and intriguing, and best of all, the twists of the plot don't distract from the thrills. Helping to tie everything together, James Newton Howard contributes a score that keeps your pulse racing while you stay firmly planted on the edge of your seat.
        When a movie based on a television show is nominated alongside Schindler's List* and In the Name of the Father, attention must be paid. Even more so when such a film contains some of the best work of two legendary actors' careers. Harrison Ford has starred in so many classics that it's easy to forget the ones that don't involve bullwhips and lightsabers, and The Fugitive is unfortunately one of his triumphs that falls through the cracks. Most people probably remember it more for Tommy Lee Jones, something that they would do without fault, but Ford is the emotional center of the film, and it is his work in conjunction with Jones' that makes the film work so spectacularly. There are many films I watch without finding any faults, and The Fugitive is certainly one of those movies, but it becomes something greater by being a film that is not only perfectly executed, but also a film that rises above the conventions and unoriginal story that sink so many films of both the thriller and TV adaptation classes. The Fugitive defies expectations in every way possible, and it does so with such heart-racing style and substance that you'll be left wondering why it hasn't reached the classic-status it so rightfully deserves. 10/10


*Funny story, Ford presented the Best Picture Oscar to his buddy Steven Spielberg for Schindler's List.

Moneyball

Originally posted to the DMI Review on 4/29/13

Inside Baseball

by Hunter Isham

        Every now and then I'll have to begin a review by revealing my bias for certain films, the ones that I already have a vested interest in before having seen them. Moneyball is one of those films. The main reason? The script was co-written by my favorite writer of film and television, Aaron Sorkin (I could go on and on about The West Wing, but I'll spare you that for now). The other reason I was rooting for Moneyball was that it's all about my hometown team, the Oakland Athletics. I might as well have bought my ticket the day Sorkin came on board, something I was not so eager to do when he signed on for "The Facebook Movie"—*shudder* (which is how I  processed the magnificent Social Network before it actually saw the light of day), but I digress. Even films I'm unwaveringly eager to see can be massive disappointments, but Moneyball quite thankfully turned out to be a smart, funny, and moving sports drama that sits easily in the pantheon of great films about baseball.
        Moneyball is an adaptation of Michael Lewis' book of the same name, which chronicled A's General Manager Billy Beane's (Brad Pitt) attempt to use sabermetrics to round up a group of talented yet undervalued players on a shoestring budget. The time between the 2001 and 2002 baseball seasons saw the A's lose star players like Jason Giambi to well-funded teams like the New York Yankees, whose budget of about $150 million was a war chest to be reckoned with when compared to Oakland's $39 million. Introduced to sabermetrics by Peter Brand (Jonah Hill's composite character partly based on Paul DePodesta), Beane decides to buck the trend of traditional baseball scouting and recruit seemingly worthless players in an attempt to get a championship team out of that small budget. As Brand explains, it's not about finding another Giambi, but rather about finding the right combination of players who can, based on their stats, deliver the same number of runs Giambi and his fellow former A's once did.
        A film built largely around statistics might sound exceedingly boring, but Sorkin and co-writer Steve Zaillian (who wrote Steven Spielberg's Schindler's List) keep things fast and funny, and do an excellent job of explaining how all the math works without either boring us or making our heads spin. Director Bennett Miller is similarly skillful in balancing the strategic plays both on and off the field, as well as Beane's lonely personal life and attempts to spend time with his daughter. For all the wonderful work done by the talented group behind the scenes on Moneyball, the true heavy lifting is done by the cast, who takes a rich story and makes it a highly personal film.
        Brad Pitt is quite honestly a revelation as Billy Beane. I've enjoyed him in more comedic fare, like Ocean's Eleven and Inglourious Basterds, where he cuts loose and has some fun in which the audience can join, but I've never given much thought to his dramatic work. Not that he hasn't been good in the past, but just that I haven't really seen his more serious films. As Beane, his playful persona from Ocean's is apparent, but with a jaded emptiness that lies just beneath, keeping him more subdued, and consequently more human, than I've ever seen him while still tossing out the occasional zinger. Jonah Hill, another actor I know from comedy, gives a breakout dramatic turn as the statistician who helps Beane guide the Athletics in a new direction. He plays against type as a quiet, brainy individual who is often the smartest guy in a room in which he's hardly welcome. Pitt and Hill together form a kind of odd couple as they work together against baseball scouts and Art Howe (the reluctant manager of the A's played by a gruff Phillip Seymour Hoffman), and the result is a chemistry that gives the film its pulse.
        Moneyball is a unique sports film in that it puts the focus on the politics and methods of how playing the game is made possible. It's a fresh approach that results in an equally fresh and intelligent film, one that, if it has any weaknesses, is hindered only by the real-life story that saw the A's never going as far they had always hoped. But Moneyball is a tale of victory off the field and in life, striving to go against the grain and change the way people think about baseball. "Any other team wins the World Series, good for them," Beane says to Brand, "But if we win, on our budget, with this team... we'll have changed the game. And that's what I want. I want it to mean something." Moneyball is a film that at its core is about that old adage, "It's not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game," except here the focus is inside baseball in the front office. The fact that the Oakland A's have remained  both the perennially underfunded, under-attended underdogs and a regular wildcard team of Major League Baseball is a testament to the work done by Billy Beane as their general manager. Moneyball shows how even as we lose the little fights, we can still survive with some creative perseverance, redefining what it means to be champions. 9.5/10