Alice in Wonderland

Okay. Forget that well-loved pop-up book you cherished when you were eight. If you know Tim Burton in the slightest, you won't need to be told this isn't anything like that. Fans of the directors work- Beetlejuice, The Nightmare Before Christmas, even Sweeney Todd- Will allow him to take the story from Lewis Carroll's hands and adapt- hence, take great liberties with it. Others will wince at the special effects and try to call brightly colored, non-Burtonized Wonderland to their mind.

First, though, let me make something clear- I like Tim Burton very much. I know that we live in a society where children watch Saw and Pulp Fiction with wild abandon, but I think kids should watch kid's movies up until a certain age. I did not categorize this as family because I don't think should be considered that by a long shot. I remember at one time literally covering my mouth with my hand and considering the ludicrousness of the PG rating.

Well, it's not extreme from an above-thirteen year-old standpoint, but when the theaters tagged this PG I at least halfway expected to keep it clean, like Up. It was not. I think the scene where the Red Queen's slimy cohort aggressively comes onto Alice ought to sum it up. Plus the eyeball (which was a gasp on my part.) Come on, folks, do not make the foolish assumption I did- this is Tim Burton. Do you really think he was going to go all 'precious moments' on you?

Mia Wasikowska, who is a young actress I have seen only once before, plays Alice. She's the curious type stuck in a society full of bores. She is expected (in the classic tradition of the period piece) to marry Hamish (Leo Bill)- Tim Burton not so subtlety makes it clear- she should not marry him. Hamish is, though not as bad as his cold Aristocrat mum, harsh, spoiled, and annoying, with bad teeth to top it off.

Alice's own mum forgets to mention Hamish will be proposing- a small detail that may of slipped her mind considering the circumstances. Hamish has failed to mention this as well. He proposes (I felt humiliated for Leo, having to make sure every viewer saw that smile on the big screen,) and she, seeing limited escapes, runs for it. Hamish is still whining about his rejection while she chases a white rabbit and falls down a hole.

The hole takes her quickly out of her banal period-piece setting and into a room that seems far to sophisticated for a common forest animal. As soon as she gets out (using unusual food products I shouldn't have to go through,) and as soon as she steps onto real Burton land, where the weirdos immediately pop up. It is is difficult to tell at first which are harmless and which are out to get her, being that most of them look equally freakish.

If I was her, I'd be exiting Johnny Depp's presence first. He is quite good as the Mad Hatter, but with disturbing make-up and a gap-toothed grin he seems to be trying to out do the grotesqueness of his gaunt Sweeney Todd. But this Depp has no razors, just a large hat that can teleport the wearer at will. He is, however, there to help, whereas the Red Queen (Bonham-Carter recreating the unpleasant and slightly psychotic manner of her Mrs. Lovett character) has not have pure intentions.

The fantasy world Burton creates is brilliant, though not of the same 'reach-out-and-touch-it' quality as Avatar. With it's pasty dark colors and bizarre animals, he doesn't seem to be going for the same realism that Cameron did. The royally strange features and dark hues give off the slight feeling of a surrealist painting on film.

Alice only seems moderately shocked by the change of climates, though she is puzzled by the Hatter's claim that it is her destiny to keep the place safe from the Red Queen, who has a grudge against her sister (Anne Hathaway.) Much of the film is dedicated to Burton's creations- two morbidly obese, ball-shaped brothers, a dodo bird, and a contrary mouse who wields a sword like Desperaux with a edge.

Mia Wasikowska starts out mildly likable if stoic and distanced, looking perpetually wide-eyed at the situation around her. She warms up about halfway through, and ends up a pretty convincing heroine. Bill has an amusing but terrifically one-note role, which seems to be all that Burton needs. The biggest disappointment is Anne Hathaway, who is usually vivid. Here she is so incredibly bland as to make me wish she was putting a Bonham Carter dose of zest into the role.

At one scene, The Red Queen accuses the White Queen of 'batting her eyes and getting all the love from Mummy and Daddy.' The same could be said of Hathaway- she blinks meaninglessly, delivers a couple of waifish lines- that's about it. I was thinking how much she could have put into it- The Red Queen was sadistic, fittingly weird, and even sad, as if Helena was doing a lot- The White Queen is simply shallow and dull.

A lot of the characters, especially the fantasy ones, were great to watch- I couldn't help but like the completely self-serving, creepy-smiled cat with a hat complex, voiced by Stephen Fry- he popped in and out regarding others' crises smugly, and stole just about every scene he was in. I must admit I quite like talking dogs, if they are done right- I never even recognized the usually-slimy Timothy Spall voicing a sad-eyed basset hound unwillingly associated with the Red Queen.
At times this movie wallows in it's own weirdness and becomes willfully incoherent to a fault- Johnny Depp's dance, while undeniably amusing, appears to have come out of Left field as an inexplicable ending to a climactic battle scene. At it's best (my favorite was the scene where Alice mutters the six impossible things before breakfast to herself while fighting the Jabberwocky,) it is morbidly enchanting. Over all, it is unabashedly, unashamedly Burton. Which is great with me, but I think Disney has some explaining to do (Rated PG!?)

Up

Up, which sports one of the simplest and uninformative titles in many, many films, may well be the best movie of the year. It is cringeworthy to hear it unfairly dismissed as a 'kids' matinee.If you are twenty-five, childless, and planning to rent the latest emo-flavored slasher flick, please, do not deny yourself this film. The people who you sit with are likely to be too involved to judge you anyway. This transcends the family genre, period.

Many children's movies, even ludicrous ones, toy with relevant emotion, but none since Up have used it so beautifully. This is a film with talking dogs, giant rainbow birds, where the laws of gravity do not apply, and not a minute of it seems artificial. And it's funny, Abundant on visual humor (Kevin the bird's mannerisms are enough to inspire chuckles,) it rises far beyond average 'funny' films that spend one hour thirty minutes trying to find the right note.

Carl, one of Up's leads, isn't one of the typical animation characters. He is old, for one thing, albeit with a sequence as a younger person. He's cranky, not a fan of children. His dialogue contains little sarcasm, and he is behind the times (sounds of computer ads on his television seem oddly out of sync with the quiet conventionality of his home.)

Carl's life long love interest follows the Disney rule, where the spunky female friend becomes a romantic figure later in life. This is Ellie, who shares an interest in Charles Muntz, the explorer they follow a the theater. Carl and Ellie fancy themselves future explorers, but are now stuck in the typical rounds of childhood, the only adventure coming from imaginary play.

Carl is silent, which suits Ellie fine, as it gives her the time to talk enough for the both of them. Charles Muntz, it seems, has been discredited for a bird skeleton he collected on an island. Denounced as a fake, he promises to bring the bird back. Ellie and Carl swear to go to Paradise Falls, where Muntz resides. They keep their dream, but after marriage, life gets in the way.

Ten minutes take the couple from early childhood to elderly life, where they live a pleasant but unremarkable existence. Though neither regrets their marriage, their dreams go away and nether feels completely fulfilled. When Ellie dies (a quiet scene, which is sad but sparing,) Carl seems about done with his life.

When he injures a overeager construction worker, he is forced into retirement. Which is when the tile comes into play. Being a former balloon salesman, he attaches hundreds of balloons to he and Ellie's house, set up for nowhere in particular (hopefully Paradise Falls.) Good movie luck sends him in the right direction, aided by an appliance he uses to steer. Bad movie luck brings Russell, a talkative boy scout who gets stuck on the porch.

The rest of the film take place almost entirely at Paradise Falls, a brightly colored, exotic island. There they meet Kevin, a gigantic bird who likes chocolate, and Dug, a dim-witted retriever who, despite a voice collar Charles Muntz has installed which gives him the voice of Bob Peterson, never loses his doggishness. Finally they meet Charles Muntz, who has not become nice in his old age, and hasn't taken his years-old rejection gladly.

In more than five instances of seeing this film, I never once sighed at the messages- objects do not replace people, friendship is meaningful. It didn't seem *Disney*. It seemed real.This is boosted by likable voice performances, especially especially Bob Peterson, who plays the dog, and Jordan Nagai, as Russell, who is an unknown young actor but still very good.

Some of Up's thematic material may be too much for sensitive children. However, contrary to certain views, I don't consider it to nearly qualify as a 'dark' or 'depressing' film. Though it has it's moments (most of which will affect parents more than kids,) it has been a long time since I saw a happy ending that felt so earned (Rated PG.)

The Boy Who Could Fly

There are people who say that the mark of a good movie is the impression it leaves on the viewer at the conclusion. Is this the case with "The Boy Who Could Fly?" I don't think so, as it was years since I misguidedly rented it and I was incapable of washing the bad taste from my mouth. This movie is a dud of massive proportions-sporting Godawful dialogue, ridiculous 80's 'special' effects, and painful sentimentality. I have not seen a film in a good long time that tried so hard to move me and failed so miserably.

The main character is Milly, short for Amelia, who has just moved into the new house with her tough guy little brother and grieving mom. Her dad is out of the picture, for reasons Milly averts her eyes explaining. Milly is the picture of 'ideal family character-' sensitive, tolerant, and gorgeous, with a bit of edge put in to add dimension. At night she meets a mysterious boy who won't, or can't, talk. He sits on the connected suburban roof between them, mimicking an airplane.

The boy, Eric, lives with his alcoholic uncle next to Milly. In a horrifically contrived scene, she describes Eric's apparent autism to her mom. "Since his mother and father died, he's never spoken a word to anyone." A compassionate teacher intends to keep Eric in his clueless uncle's inept care. She says he almost died last time he was put in a hospital, because, apparently, 'he just gave up.' She convinces Milly to look after Eric at school, and keep an eye on those social workers prowling the streets.

Eric is severely autistic and can't so much as catch a ball, but he has one thing Raymond Babbitt doesn't- despite the lack of any special skills, interests, or personal (not autistic) traits, he's a MAGIC special person. Why, you ask? Rumors run about of Eric's telepathic abilities (he stopped talking the moment his parents died in a plane crash) as well as his uncanny ability to gain access to surfaces that he couldn't logically climb to.

Milly meets Eric's eye with an open heart, despite his lurking and horror movie-style tendency to pop out on the roof while Milly looks into the mirror. Then they subject us to a series of cringe-inducing dialogue ("maybe all he needs is the kiss of a fair maiden to make him well again," Milly says of her silent crush Eric,) syrupy anti-climaxes, and ludicrous dream sequences (including the magical realism finale) that seem to have little to do with anything else.

On the up side, the acting is decent, with the possible exception of Fred Gwynne, playing a terribly one-note character (the drunk uncle) in such an overblown and grating way that I was unsure if he intended to be humorous or pitiful. Jay Underwood proves he has talent in the institution scenes, whereas he spends the rest of the film staring blankly into space (probably thinking about his paycheck.) They do their best, but are stuck with an inevitable train wreck of a script.

The ending was fairly idiotic, I think, but when I think about the deep (cough) implications, the more pointless and even disturbing it becomes. Special people cannot function in the real world, so the must fly away in a cheesy anti-climax. Autistic people can levitate. Drunks can cure their drunkenness in a matter of days. Pathetic movies like this one can actually gather good reviews.

In the end, the movie that is so desperate to be bittersweet and heart-warming comes out more like a cross between a schizophrenic artsy indie and an after school special. People may tell you this is a hidden gem. They are lying. This may be a pseudo-classic movie on a hot topic, but some things are better left buried. (Rated PG)

Castle - Season One

Some shows start out with an excellent debut episode, than lose steam. This is not one of those shows. When I watched the first, I was just about the polar opposite of impressed. The problem was, it worked too hard to introduce it's characters. The serious branch of the operation, Detective Beckett (Stana Katic,) is somewhat likable, if only because she takes her work seriously and and doesn't consider herself likable.

Unfortunately, Richard Castle (Nathan Fillion) is one of those self-satisfied characters who is mildly grating at best, unbearable at worst. He considers the murders they investigate a personal gain (he's a writer,) and is clearly in love with himself and his 'masterpieces.' Why, why, must there be the inevitable romantic tension between he and Kate? Why does Richard think police procedures are an excuse to shoot snippy remarks and quips? What is funny about murders, anyway?

Richard Castle is a writer of pulp murder mysteries, and is quite popular with the masses for some time. He ignores scathing critics bashing his latest money-making operation (one newspaper reviewer says a book made them want 'to go screaming out into the snow,') and prospers until he suffers mass writer's block. So, why not start tracking a no-nonsense (and of course pretty) female detective, using other people's tragedies as a basis for his next scrap of anti-literature?


Kate Beckett is a hard-working woman with heavy emotional baggage, which Richard immediately attempts to divulge. Of course she has no desire to work with him, but he always shows up, there to save the day. The first episode was rather awful, as it did little but elaborate on Castle's obnoxious personality, padding it with a paper-thin mystery plot point. I became so intensely bored with his antics that I tuned out and contemplated a possible idea for fortune "If I got a buck every time Nathan Fillion smirked, I would be a very rich woman."

Ah, but it gets better! The directors catch on by episode number two that the full Castle personality (stingy on plot) is only acceptable in small doses. He can be sufferable and even almost pleasant when given something to do, so when the mysteries started, I quickly became more involved.

I enjoyed visits with the side characters, namely Castle's perfectionist teenage daughter Alexis (Molly C. Quinn) and his mother. Alcoholic grandmas are hardly a new topic (demonstrated in "Spanglish" and the upcoming "The Lovely Bones,) but Susan Sullivan solidly provides comic relief.

Some shows were better than others- dialogue ran the gamut from hilariously offbeat to annoyingly corny, and the mysteries were, as all things, a mixed bag. Another perk of having Molly C. Quinn on screen was that, working as a protective and affectionate dad, Castle revealed his most human side, and his shrillness decreased. As it went on, I found myself entertained by a enjoyable (if guiltily) show. As a plus the victims and suspects usually provided solid performances. After a dreadful first show and a handful of good ones, I will be awarding three stars, which is fair since I'm willing to try the second season.

I hope that Fillion's Castle grows on me, and it spends more time catching the killers and less time developing dull tension with the relatively thin leads. Though Richard has become bearable of late- maybe he could suffer a semi-serious injury, still able to write his tragedy-exploitation pulp and look after his daughter, but incapable of trailing Beckett? Castle Beckett- Season 2? I look forward to it. (Rated TV PG.)

Trailer Not Available

Requiem

When it comes to rating movies, how should a film like Requiem be treated? Taken as entertainment, it is horrible- the viewer waits, sickened by the inevitable conclusion, but when it comes it is still like a poke in the gut. It is horrific, yet not horror, and shouldn't be advertised as 'scary' in any conventional sense.

But it strikes me as brave how directer Hans-Christian Schmid delivers his story- sharp and gimmickless. His viewpoint is clear- the girl was mentally sick. Nothing other than ignorance and her own mind conspired against her. Whether this notion would have helped anything remains distant.

But the film doesn't need vomit or swiveling heads, shocks or hallucinations. It has Sandra Huller. Fully absorbed in her role, Sandra furiously portrays Michaela Klinglar, a character based apparently, on a real German girl named Annalise Michaels, who lived in 1970's Germany.
Michaela, as many young people would, hopes to leave her parents for college, and eventually, a career in teaching. She announces she will be leaving for university. She seems healthy and capable enough, but her mother speaks quietly and archaically of her illness and it's eventually effect on her future.

Michaela lives with three people- her parents and a younger sibling. Her mother coldly talks of her daughter's limitations in way that radiates cruelty, not care. New clothes that show Michaela's figure are promptly thrown away in the night for being trampy. Even when her mother presents a gift, a tension lies in the air.

The girl's father secretly resents serving as his daughter's shield. But her mother relents, and she is given a chance to try a life of classes and socialization. The family is religious, as is Michaela, but at her school, belief in a higher power has gone out of style. Her mention of God is met by snickers. An at first aloof old classmate hangs around with her, as long as religion and self-help are not brought up, even with earnest intentions.

When Michaela first begins to suffer seizures, black-outs, and hallucinations, she manages to cover up the incidents. Her requests for help from a priest invoke less-than-helpful response. She begins going out with a boy who promises when asked to stand by her, foolishly ignoring the conditions.

When her parents do discover her degeneration, they make the tragic decision to involve the church in her rehabilitation. While her streches of coherency become rarer, she becomes a spiritual guinea pig for exorcisms and is denied the psychiatric care she so desperately needs.

Two films have been made involving the case of Anneliese Michels, the other being a Hollywood courtroom thriller titled The Exorcism of Emily Rose, which concentrates on the supernatural aspects of the case.

Schmid has no use for the superstition of the latter, but at times his stance becomes all-too-clear, involving overwrought scenes with a harsh priest, as with an earnest member of the church whose cure for insanity is a good round of bible study.

Even as Requiem falters, Sandra Huller's intense performance, conveying the hope for normalcy and pain of rejection and illness almost single-handedly keeps the viewer's interest. Some say the docu-style filming is boring, but I say it is a courageous attempt to strip Annalise's story to the basics, dropping the shocks and visualized nightmares that distract from the reality of the situation.

For more information on Anneliese Michels, check out this link (Spoilers!)

The Boy in the Striped Pajamas

The Boy in the Striped Pajamas is about a regular kid -- not a child prodigy, nt particularly wise beyond his years. The only thing that separates him from the willfully blind adults who surround him is that he has not yet learned to hate. The film never depicts him as a hero, at least an intentional one, just a kid who acts like any other would act, innocently unknowing of the expectations and prejudices of those around him.

The protagonist, a blue-eyed, brown-haired eight-year-old named Bruno (Asa Butterfield), is living in a stage were fantasy and reality remain merged. He resides with his family in Germany, with his older sister, soldier dad, and mom. He tries to find fun as best he can, with no help from his sibling, who is the simpering lapchild type, engaged in a misguided coming-of-age, decorating her walls with appreciation for her country and throwing aside her dolls.

After he has lived comfortably with his family, Bruno learns that they are to move away, closer to the new job. His father has earned a promotion. This is supposed too be good news, but isn't for Bruno -- he wants his old house and friends and doesn't want his life changed. Worse, he has no say about the matter and is moved to a base where men in gray pass him stiffly, talking to his father.

There are no children he can see, until he stumbles quite by accident on a farm occupied by underwashed, underfed people. He is encouraged to stay away, as his father tells him the people are not humans and shouldn't be treated as such. But they seem human enough to him, especially Schmeul, a boy his age who catches his attention. They meet, laugh at each other's names, and promise to visit more.

In a different situation, the friendship would be considered harmless, and Bruno would be able to freely play with the boy before his return. The fact that he is living in Auschwitz puts a damper on that ideal. Schmeul is treated as a flea-ridden cat -- don't bother to get attached to him, he'll be gone soon enough. But love for his fatherland has not impressed itself in Bruno's mind yet, and he ignores the others' warnings, pleased to have another child to interact with.

This film is based on a young adult novel by John Boyne, described as a 'fable' by the author. It contains telling details of the Holocaust, but from a child's eye view -- yellow stars and fences are interspersed with the normal thoughts of a kid: toys, friends, and irritating siblings. It is a small but powerful story, meant to send a message with only as much information as we need. The rest we know for ourselves.

For basically first-time actors, the young boys who play Bruno and Schmeul do fairly well. However, I was annoyed by the skips and jumps in Butterfield's performance. He slips naturally into scenes of fantasy and play, but when the story becomes more intense, he seems slightly confused about how to react to the script, which hampers the believability somewhat. He generally did a good job, however, and one shouldn't want him to progress too quickly, to avoid a Culkin-ish speed-up of maturity.

The Boy in the Striped Pajamas is quiet and infused with a moral ambiguity. Bruno doesn't view his father as a monster even as he begins to know more. Even his mother doesn't seem completely aware of the situation, and although she's knows of the prisoners, it still comes as a shock when she figures out what the torrent of smoke streaming into the air is.

Also, it contains the most shocking and unexpected ending since The Life Before Her Eyes. Although the adults turn away, reminding themselves of their good fortune that they are not within the barbed fence, they are forced, in the most horrendous way possible, to look back. Everybody finds their inner humanity, and no one wins.

Matilda

If you have read any of the works of British childrens' author Roald Dahl, you will know one thing his stories lack is sap- which has endeared them to some grown-ups but struck others as unsuitable kid material- although his books may be whimsical their sense of humor is also short, sharp, and often at the expense of others.

"Matilda," directed by Danny De Vito and based on the popular Roald Dahl novel, is a satire of cluelessly cruel parents too absorbed in their own lives to take notice of their children's gifts, remarkable as they might be. In doing this, he introduces us to one the most ridiculously fractured families in kid movie history- the Wormwoods.

The director plays Harry, a hack car salesman who cons people by filling seemingly good automobiles with saw dust (that may not work in the real world, but never mind.) Mom Zinnia (Rhea Perlman, De Vito's real wife) is shrill, nasty-tempered, and completely engrossed in leaving home to play Bingo. Their offspring are Mike and Matilda.

Matilda (Mara WIlson,) the youngest is the focus of the story, and so she should be considering Mike is following in his dad's footsteps as a loud-mouthed ignoramus. Matilda as been virtually abandoned since birth, and left to roam at her own devices. Since she was a young child she has loved books.

As books in the Wormwood house are in short supply, she took time at Bingo games to cross streets to the library- a great feat for a toddler. learning vocabulary at an alarmingly quick rate, Matilda becomes bored with the mundane life her parents expect her to have.

The doltish pair take offense that young Matilda would rather read than watch game shows on the telly day after day. The seem in fear that their daughter may surpass them in intelligence- a feat, honestly, not hard to accomplish. Finally they ship her off to school, where she proves her intellect is far beyond any child (and teacher) at her school.

There she meets Miss Honey (Embeth Davitz,) A teacher as splendid as her name and one of the film's only positive adult characters, who takes an interest in finding material suiting Matilda's growing desire to learn. She also makes her first friend. School begins to become the place she yearns for, bracing for some happy activities after a day with her cruel and indifferent parents.

Everything at school would be great- except that all the children and the teachers live in fear of the sadistic, kid-hating brute of a headmistress, Mrs. Trunchbull (Pam Ferris.) How sadistic? Picture Dolores Umbridge stripped of any even artificial sweetness, and you've got the Trunchbull (in fact, the actual Potter connection is that Ferris played Harry's inflating aunt in the third film)

Matilda, fueled by Miss Honey's love for her and her wishes for a better life, precedes to try to end the Trunchbull's reign of terror. Her having put her superior intellect forward in a series of pranks on her parents, she decides to find a way to drive out the headmistress for good. Aiding her are telekinetic powers, which she hones to use to her advantage.

Unrealistic, perhaps? Well, this film takes a back seat on realism. Take the Chokey for example. When a child fails to live up to Miss Trunchbull's standards, she encloses them in a porta-potty sized room with walls adorned by broken glass and nails, forcing them to stay standing for an unspecified amount of time. While one would think this sort of behavior would end in a social services visit for sure, the kids keep quiet, knowing their parents would dismiss such wild tales.

For Miss Trunchbull's horrible torment, it seems lucky Matilda only unleashed her powers for a series of vicious pranks, tricks, and general comeuppance, rather go Carrie on the people who have done her wrong (a film I haven't seen, but who hasn't heard of it?) Wilson, as Matilda, is appealing, and Ferris played such a ridiculously horrid cow of a character that I felt compelled to make sure she wasn't as hideous in life (she wasn't.)

Obviously, "Matilda" has a short supply of subtlety to begin with, but certain parts that added to the enjoyment of the book. Matilda's brother, Mike, was not entirely dreadful in the literary version, whereas here he has been morphed into a complete bullying jerk. Also, the ending has a clever touch (concerning Matilda's telekinesis) that has been rubbed away to cater to the audience.

"Matilda," though too bizarre for some families, is a lot of fun, and a great movie for kids who are sick of the same old pitiful rehashes dropped for the mass public (Transformers 2 and Air Buddies, anyone?) Anybody with a slightly morbid sense of humor will enjoy this kid-geared fantasy/ back comedy which has no intention of playing nice (Rated PG.)