Ils (Them)

Horror filmmaking, a visualization of things no one wants to happen to them, can be morbidly fascinating, or even lyrical. Tomas Alfredson's Let the Right One In, particularly, told it's story brilliantly and in some ways transcended the vampire genre. Them, a slight trip into depravity and advertised as 'the movie that terrified the French,' is not. It is tripe. The film doesn't stand as as much a worthy story with characters as a gaudy set-designed ego trip, with meticulously designed dark corners, piercing screams, and convenient pitfalls.

When the heroine, schoolteacher Clementine, chose a place in the attic of her sprawling isolated home to escape from the home invaders of the film, of course it is an otherwise empty section with cellophane hanging in clumps from the ceiling, each one vaguely looking like a cloaked face. Of course Clementine and her boyfriend Lucas live in an isolated manor. And finally of course the isolation is broken by a 'annoying' dog, who barks to warn them too late.

I was warned . When a teenage girl feuding with her mother gets run off the road by a unknown being, I heard her, just as it began to rain, segueing from a irate calls to screams, more and more desperate "Maman! Maman! Maman!!!" The car? It doesn't start. The rain obscures anyone from view, as does the trunk her mother ignorantly poked around in. The cell phone shakes in her hand, and she can barely release a squeak, much less a 'help.'

After the inevitable death, the film focuses on Lucas, a writer who does his best work playing arcade games, and Clementine, a frustrated primary school teacher. For a period of about fifteen minutes, the two exchange a stream of smooth and natural dialogue, in such a way I mistakenly started hoping that I would care what happened to them. After that, the script runs out of such dialogue, and settles on standard horror talk. I started laughing out loud at the banality of it, a bad sign with a film that wants to be taken this seriously.

"______!" (insert name, repeat 20-30 times.)

"I'll go check."

"What was that sound?"

"Don't leave!"

The acting of the film is decent, the performers pounding on the one note the director brings to the table (mostly comprised of frightened shrieks and tear stained faces.) The plot is a series of grotesque occurrences, putting the characters through horror and trauma. It is 'compensated' for it's plotnessless with a couple of jumps (it barely succeeds.) The slashers are barely frightening, and completely nonsensical.

Simply put, it is a series of close escapes and killings, too premeditated and shallow to provoke much reaction. I learned something, though. Nothing about safety, nothing about human nature. I learned that because a film has cool cover art, a cinematic pedigree (foreign,) and is spoken in a pretty language (French,) does not make it very much superior to American money mongerers. Nor does it classify as high film-making. That is all. (Rated R.)

Burn After Reading

As I write this review, I will attempt to gather my thoughts. This is the kind of film that remains lean at 90-something minutes, but still may take dozens of viewings to catch all that the Coen brothers put into it. "Burn After Reading" got lukewarm praise from many critics, and was considered somewhat of an exercise after No Country For Old Men, a grungy and solemn film that was embarrassingly nearly impossible for me to connect with.

The two share some traits- flawed characters, moments of jarring violence, and an ending that had me throwing my arms up in disappointed anger. This time, however, they apply the tone of a very dark comedy, and I'll say it- I think I like this better. It resembles, slightly, Quentin Tarantino's Pulp Fiction in style- this is a film of sad characters, a sad story, and sad implications. But if it is a story of pathetic lives that intersect in violence, why is it so damned funny?

Not that I got it at first. I'm still not sure I do. Around the beginning I began seriously questioning the relation between content and style. The movie broadly uses claustrophobic, sharp camera angles and an overblown, anti-climactic soundtrack, all the while often leading to ice scraped out of it's tray and liquor poured into a glass.

I was trying to figure out the Coen's intentions- were they expecting to stir people up, only to see the outcome permeating banality? Then I realized. Although this film has a blunt edge, it is a satire. The only thing left to wonder is... a satire of what? I have a few ideas, but no concrete answers. Of course, that gives me much more idea then any of the characters in this film.

"Burn After Reading" connects several different stories, with the deliberately confused style and pacing as an unusually morbid farce. Osbourne Cox, a member of CIA (John Malkovich) is shown first. He has just been fired- 'for your drinking,' they say. After a humorously absurd flinging of obscenities, he storms out toward home, where his shrill wife Katie (Tilda Swinton) is much more concerned then anything about the cheeses he was meant to pick up for a house party.

Everyone in this film seems to relate to each other is some way- chances are, sexually. Katie has another CIA member, Harry (George Clooney,) over when her husband's elsewhere. Harry, not an expert in the department of committing, meets Linda Litzke (Frances McDormand,) a self-centered, socially incompetent woman who is suffering a midlife crisis, which involves as many internet flings as possible and a whole lot of liposuction.

Brad Pitt is Chad, a dim-witted and possibly homosexual co-worker of Linda's, who helps her look through personals for a guy who is not a 'major loser.' Their boss, Ted, is a meek man who, despite having feelings for Linda, is terrified he may fall into the 'loser' category. He is she and Chad's boss, though I'm not sure he would be forthright enough to actually fire anybody.

Anyway, Chad is 'lucky' (unlucky?) enough to find a CD-rom containing information of Osbourne Cox's, which involves enough code and 'number shit' to make he and Linda assume it must be worth something. Ted knows an impending disaster when he sees one, and quickly makes it clear he wants it out of their gym. It just so happens that the files are a memoir that Osbourne has decided to write, a concept which makes Katie scoff.

Then Chad and Linda attempt in a vague, hare-brained manner to blackmail Osbourne for what they have find. On the up side, it does not contain any ultra-secret files, that Osbourne would kill for. On the down side, he really wants to write the memoir, and they have caught him in exactly the wrong time, at a time of dispute with Katie, loss of his job, and the effects of the liquors that litter his cabinets, which he is *not* addicted to.

One thing is sure- there's a certain morbid fascination in watching a couple of nimrods attempting to perpetrate crime, with only the vaguest notion that they may be considered accountable. Chad, in particular, tries to threaten Osbourne with the persona that must result from too many late night TV noir movies.

Brad Pitt, who I am not sure I've seen in a film all the way through and not the tabloids, is a surprise. Here he is unabashedly satirical as a simpleton to has no clue how to deal with the situations he gets in ("Osbourne Cox," he says gruffly, then assumes the expression of a 12-year-old making his first prank call. )

John Malkovich, who plays a man who starts out a few slices short of a pizza and works his way to a mound of crumbs, is disturbing/funny in his projection of negative energy. I also liked Frances McDormand, who turns around sharply from the sensible role she played in the period drama I watched a couple weeks , Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day. Richard Jenkins puts some gravity and an earnest presence. as a likable side character who, in the tradition of likable side characters, is killed the most brutally.

But there are problems. Certain scenes seem like segments that the Coens wrote background details on, then forgot how to edit coherently. I guess there is something reassuring about know the directors put much more into the film, then is initially thought, but come on.

One scene, so out of flow with the rest of the story that I half thought it was a dream or a hallucination, has Osbourne tell of his dismissal to a nearly comatose old man (presumably his father,) on a boat that shows up later in the script. The father, who is doing the easiest bit of acting consisting of nodding and staring with unfocussed eyes into the distance, seems like he shouldn't be here.

He obviously can't live on his own- does Osbourne care for him? Where does he stay when the plot doesn't need him? Is he in a rest home? Who leave a daft old man to sway and sit hunched on a boat all day? Osbourne, maybe? I was also annoyed by a scene where Ted implicates at a unusual past profession. "Why did you leave?" Linda asks. "It's a long story." And? Why introduce it?

The absolute best thing about "Burn After Reading" is the dialogue and details, which link into each other in an intricate way. There are gaps, but it isn't the norm- nearly everything that happens has something to do with something else. I would however, have preferred that they change the ending, which brazenly leaves loose ends. After No Country For Old Men it may be a Cohen trademark, but honestly, it's not a tradition I want built upon (Rated R.)

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!)