Film is Pwn

I realize that I am one of the few humans capable of feeling disappointment when a film turns out not to be terrible.  In this regard, Whiteout has disappointed me terribly.

Just out on DVD, Whiteout was a relatively big-budget thriller starring Kate Beckinsale.  It appeared in theaters for approximately 17 minutes, barely long enough for it to be panned by critics and irritate the two guys who wanted to see.  One of those men was me, the other happened to be the mother of the film’s director. (more…)

I would like to begin this theatrical analysis with the best kind of compliment, a backhanded one: The Hangover is one of the better raunchy, difficult-to-watch comedies I’ve seen.  I’m not a fan of crass, “Shock and Awwwww” films such as American Pie and their ilk.  The “Shock” is because the punch line is more often than not either nudity or profanity, and the “Awwwww” is because my reaction is akin to: “Awwww that is thoroughly disgusting and unnecessary.” (more…)

Starring: Steve Zahn, Milla Jovovich, Timothy Olyphant, Kiele Sanchez
Directed By: David Twohy

A Perfect Getaway is the kind of thriller where you just know there is going to be a twist ending.  The way my mind works, when I suspect a shocking twist is afoot, I can guess what it is going to be 94.7% of the time.  When you’re playing the “who’s the killer” game, generally it is as simple as  picking the individual the movie wants you to suspect the least.  For an example of how this ending can make you so mad you’ll want to find the screenwriter and sternly wag your finger in his direction, see my review of Halle Berry/Bruce Willis’ cinematic abomination Perfect Stranger.

I ended up liking A Perfect Getaway more than enough to recommend it as a “renter,” so I’m going to be rather vague and unspecific so as not to spoil aforementioned twist. Although if you are unable to guess the twist based off the following description and my assurance that there is a twist, I will be forced to ban you from this site forever. Be warned, be warners: (more…)

Heartbreak Ridge is one of the often overlooked and neglected Clint Eastwood movies, and not for no reason.  It’s not great enough to pop up on any “best movie” lists — or even top ten Clint flicks – but it’s good enough to be watched and play in endless rotation on a movie channel like AMC. If you’ll forgive a digression, AMC ought to be forced to change their moniker from something other than American Movie Classics after recently being caught red-handed airing Halle Berry’s Catwoman.  When you let “Catwoman” in the door as a “classic,” what movie can’t be considered a classic? Can Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus be far behind?

There’s a lot working for Heartbreak Ridge, one being director and star Clint Eastwood.  Eastwood rarely makes movies that aren’t either “darn good” or  “a lot of fun,” although I should note that I have yet to see any movies where he co-starred with a monkey.  Just a note on that note: I have no intention of EVER seeing any of those Eastwood monkey movies, as I have maintained my respect for him even after seeing him singing with Lee Marvin. (more…)

The last time I bought a ticket to catch a film in the theater was over a month earlier and it was disastrous, no less than Gerard Butler’s lunch-displacing, sickening actioner Gamer.  (By saying “bought a ticket” I exclude the great experience had at the Charlotte Film Festival, wherein my cohorts and I got in free with our press passes, hee hee).

Not one to dip my toes in the pool but rather one to jump head first into the deep end, my next paying customer excursion to the theaters post-Gamer was for yet another Gerard Butler film, this time a thriller opposite with Jamie Foxx, Law-Abiding Citizen. (more…)

As far as titles go, “The Bone Collector” sounds like it ought to be the tale of a forlorn archaeologist, unable to connect on a personal level with any living person until he meets the girl of his dream who brings him out of his shell and he finds love and discovers there’s more to life than hunting for bones in the desert.  *Sigh*  However, in this case, “The Bone Collector” turns out to be a cookie-cutter, garden-variety, thriller-novel-turned-thrill-free-movie that tries to be Silence of the Lambs but to actually watch soundless lambs is approximately twice as entertaining.

Taking away that rather cryptic summary and just examining the ingredients, there’s a lot going for The Bone Collector to be a good movie.  Of course, filet mignon, chocolate, french toast, and grapes are great, but not necessarily together if you catch my drift.

The Bone Collector has a good director in Phillip Noyce, the man behind the best of the Jack Ryan films and one of the better political thrillers, Clear and Present Danger.  The stars are no less than two of the best actors working, Denzel Washington and Angelina Jolie (before she was an A-lister).  And it’s based on a novel – and all novels are inherently good, right?  Still, at best the movie feels like you are witnessing spare parts of better movies and at worst like they were kind of making the story up as they went.  I believe the great Michael J. Nelson once referred to a movie made from leftovers of better flicks as a “movieloaf” – and the Bone Collector is the perfect embodiment of a movieloaf.
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One of the lamest, most frustrating contrivances that filmmakers pull out of their hat is the “It’s just a dream” twist.  It’s a rather cheap gimmick where you can have the villain kill off the hero or the heroes girlfriend and then, suddenly, the hero wakes up! *Phew* It was just a dream.  Any movie that shows you a particular series of events and then has the audacity to tell the audience it did not occur risks riots in the theater.

There is no “dream” sequence in director Bryan Singer’s the Usual Suspects, but, without revealing too much, the movie takes incredible liberties with its narrative.  I’ve seen the movie from beginning to end eight times or more, and it’s a matter of debate and interpretation exactly what happens to who and when.  For a lesser film, this would likely be infuriating.  But the Usual Suspects is so exceptional in conception, acting, and execution, in this case I don’t mind the muddle ambiguity,  In fact, I love it.  (Please, Hollywood, this kind of story telling works much better as the exception and not the rule.  Don’t overdo it.  This means you, M. Night Shyamalan!)
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Bronson is the story of a man. A man completely detached from the realities of the world and what it means to be human. He’s not nice, good or really evil in the typical sense of the word. What he does is evil but to him it appears that it’s nothing more than a game, a foray into the woods rather than being the very real actions with tangible consequences that they are.

I don’t believe I’ve enjoyed watching a movie more in a very long time. It seems clear to me that Director Nicolas Winding Refn had a clear vision when he chose to venture into this film. He was determined and he pulled together an outstanding cast and crew to see it into fruition. Tom Hardy as “England’s most violent criminal” is spot-on. His performance is dark and menacing, without remorse and completely insane. Exactly the type of man I rather imagine Bronson to be. There is no sanity to this film. No character to stabilize you. You feel constantly at odds against the main character, much, I imagine, like the prison guards must have felt these thirty years.

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Blood Work is an interesting, entertaining, and altogether unexceptional outing in the mystery-suspense-thriller genre.  I have a fondness for Blood Work that runs opposite of my antipathy for Independence Day, which I wrote about last year here.  For ID, as we industry insider types refer to Independence Day, the first impression I had walking out of the theater was, “Wow!  That was the best movie I’ve ever seen!  The only thing that could be better than Independence Day might be heaven itself, which I’m sure will have frequent showings of Independence Day!”  Then, as I thought about the story and the amazing plot contrivances, meandering cliches, and other flaws, ID slipped from the “great” to “fun/bad” category pretty quickly, and I’m a little embarrassed to admit that for about 72 hours ID stood as my favorite film ever.  Please do not tell my actual favorite film of all-time, Memento.

But this is the story of the opposite, where I didn’t like a movie at first, but it’s fondness has actually increased over the years until I think it’s pretty good (I said “good,” not “great,” mind you).  I speak of Clint Eastwood’s cinematic “eh, that was okay” flick, Blood Work.
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Being a half-grizzly/half-human hybrid movie blogger, naturally I’m bit of a sucker for a bear movie.  Please note that I don’t say, “I’m a sucker for a GOOD bear movie,” because if I were there would be precisely one entry on the list: Anthony Hopkins & Alec Baldwin in the Edge, written by the great David Mamet.  Because I am so open minded for bear films of any quality (I gave a glowing review to the Country Bears, for Pete’s sake!), I am hence a sucker for a bad movie prominently featuring a bear, and today’s entry Grizzly Park certainly falls into the “bad” movie category.

Man oh man Grizzly Park is some kind of terrible.  It’s filled past the breaking point with terrible acting, stupid characters doing and saying idiotic things, and corny horror gore. On the plus side, it does have some things going for it, well only three. There’s 1) plenty of Brody the Bear, the same bear who fought to a draw with Walker, Texas Ranger; 2) it stars Glenn Morshower a.k.a. Secret Service Agent Aaron from the TV show 24, a likable character actor whose last name “Morshower” translates from the Comanche word for “He who should take more showers”; and 3) a twist ending so absurd and implausible that I genuinely liked it.  (I’ll be giving away said plot twist later on, so be warned and get the popcorn, ’cause this is The Village quality.)
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I caught a showing of the brand-spankin’ new action movie, Gamer, that opened today, and I must say it is beyond terrible, it’s unwatchable. 
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This blog is going to be on my favorite MacGuffin movie.  And no, a MacGuffin is neither the Crime Dog nor a muffin from McDonalds, but thanks for asking.  A “MacGuffin” is movie lingo for at item that is central to the plot but yet no one cares about it, so think of it as Ben Affleck.  Okay, maybe not the best analogy, because a MacGuffin is pivotal despite its pointlessness, and Ben Affleck is pointless though — by most accounts — he is able to pivot.

Confused?  Perhaps this will be a better illustration: Alfred Hitchcock, who perfected the MacGuffin, said in an interview featured in the documentary Dial H For Hitchcock: “The film could be about anything you like.  So long as I am making the audience react in a certain way.  If you begin to worry about the details of what are the papers about that the spies are trying to steal, well . . . I can’t be bothered about what the papers are and what the spies are after. . . The MacGuffin is the thing that the spies are after but the audience don’t care (about).”

Thanks, Alf.  Now that we’re clear on MacGuffins, that thing that everyone is after but could be anything, let me get to my point (finally, I know): One of my favorite MacGuffin movies is director John Frankenheimer’s last great film, Ronin.
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