Review: 'Away We Go'

Burt (John Krasinski) and Verona (Maya Rudolph) are a young thirty-something couple who’ve just discovered they’re pregnant. Six months later the happily unmarried lovers are living in a dilapidated trailer in Colorado to be near Burt’s parents, but the plan quickly falls apart with the announcement that the grandparents-to-be are moving to Belgium before the baby is even due. Now untethered, and with jobs that can be done from anywhere, they head out on a cross-country journey in search of someplace new to call home. They want to live somewhere with built-in friends or family because they lack confidence in their ability to do right by their child. “Are we fuck ups?” she asks him one night as they sit in the dark and cold trailer. His response in the negative is unconvincing because, like her, he feels as if he should have life figured out by now. Should be as settled, secure, and sure of their lives like they assume everyone else is…

First up is Arizona where they visit Verona’s old co-worker Lily (Allison Janney), husband Lowell (Jim Gaffigan), and their two kids. She’s loudly oblivious, he’s dour, and the kids are the unfortunate victims of narcissistic parents. Next they head to Wisconsin to see Burt’s childhood friend LN (Maggie Gyllenhaal) and her family. LN and Roderick are the epitome of New Age extremists with philosophies that find them avoiding strollers (”Why would I want to push my baby away from me?!”) and allowing their kids to watch them make whoopee. If these first two families show Burt and Verona precisely what to avoid when raising a child, their last intended stop gives them something to aspire towards. Montreal is where college friends Tom (Chris Messina) and Munch (Melanie Lynskey) have settled with their adopted children. The family may have been created sans biology, but the love on display is pure and instantly enviable. As perfect as the family seems though, we soon learn that doing everything right in life offers no guarantees. Finally, Burt’s brother (Paul Schneider) calls to say his wife has left both him and their daughter making Miami their final stop where we again see love and beauty riding shotgun with the unpredictability of life.

Away We Go is probably the least conventional romantic comedy to hit screens in years. Burt and Verona are sweetly and realistically (but not cloyingly) in love, and the film at no point feels the need to threaten that with manufactured fights or misunderstandings. There’s no artificial break up just so they can conveniently reunite at the end. Instead, the two remain convincingly in love throughout the film, acting as wells of hope and optimism for each other when faced with doubts. It’s a rarity in film and should be celebrated for that facet alone. Luckily it’s also a very funny, sweet, and aware film too. Viewers in their twenties and thirties should find much to identify with and love here, because all of us have asked the same questions at one point or another. Where am I headed? Why aren’t things different? Am I doing everything I can with my life? (As an unpaid writer here at FSR, I ask myself these questions every day.) The perception is that life has certain check-boxes and deadlines, and if you haven’t found a career, gotten married, had kids, etc by a certain age then you’re failing and lagging behind the more successful people around you. Away We Gooffers an alternative viewpoint, a redirection of priorities, and it does so with grace, wit, and heart.

The movie’s rampant humor comes from dialogue over one-liners, from situations instead of gags, and both Krasinski and Rudolph excel from beginning to end. “The Office” has given Krasinski small opportunities for drama secreted in larger blocks of comedy, but here he gets to stretch and blend the genres to fantastic effect. And Rudolph stands tall over just about every other SNL alum with a performance completely devoid of sketch comedy shtick. She forgoes accents and exaggeration in favor of a surprisingly natural and believable performance. (I love Amy Poehler, but if she wants to do anything beyond goofy sidekick roles in the future she needs to watch and learn from this movie.) The entire supporting cast rotates in and out quickly and effectively starting with Jeff Daniels and Catherine O’Hara who bring laughs early on as Burt’s unaffected parents. Messina and Lynskey are both beautiful and affecting as is Schneider as a man who feels utterly lost as a newly single father. The normally reliable Janney and Gyllenhaal are the only partial missteps here as their characters are borderline caricatures. I say borderline, but in truth both actresses liberally cross the line with stereotypical and cartoonish behavior. The fault most assuredly stems from the page, but it wouldn’t have hurt either of them to dial things back a bit. That’s not to say the two don’t offer plenty of laughs in the process though.

Speaking of the page, Away We Go is the feature screenplay debut from Dave Eggers and Vendela Vida. Eggers burst on to the literary scene with the truly amazing “A Heartbreaking Work Of Staggering Genius” before slowly cobbling away at that much-deserved acclaim with some barely readable narrative follow-ups. The film restores my faith in his eye for believable characters capable of conveying real lives filled with pasts, presents, and futures. Structured in chapters with title cards that identify where they’re going (Away to Phoenix, Away to Madison), the film moves smoothly and confidently forward with people who live and learn along the journey. The main characters are real people, not quirky cutouts laced with snarky witticisms so prevalent in “indie” cinema. Accompanying the happenings on screen are some apt and often beautiful songs by Alexi Murdoch. Sounding more than a little like the late Nick Drake, Murdoch crafts simple and sweet songs that match the film’s mood and style perfectly.

I expect misguided dissension on this, but Away We Go is easily the best film Sam Mendes has directed. It’s the most assured, simple, and poignant story he’s yet told. The actors don’t over-sell the characters or emotions (Revolutionary Road), the story doesn’t display false importance (American Beauty), the film’s not entirely reliant on visuals (Road to Perdition), and we’re not forced into watching a shirtless Gyllenhaal (Jarhead)… well not the same Gyllenhaal anyway. It’s his most identifiable and likable film too. When Burt and Verona finally make their decision it’s one that may seem obvious at first, but we know it’s a choice they’ve had to earn. Wisely, the title card for the last segment says simply “Home” with no geographic identification attached. It’s a nice reminder that home is a place we’ll all find eventually, and one it’s never too late to start looking for. (Although if you notice a certain blueberry and cinnamon tartness in your girlfriend’s honey pot you may want to get a jump on that search…) Away We Go is far from the typical summer movie, but if you find it playing nearby I strongly recommend you check it out. It just may end up being one of the best films you see all year.

FINAL SCORE:

8.3

A new season of 'Futurama' challenges the wildly popular 'Everybody Loves Hypnotoad'

The puny and gullible citizens of Earth were shocked today by the news that one of their favorite television shows would be making new episodes.

Yes, yes and yes. Finally after crushing the market on DVD sales and having a solid run in syndication over at Comedy Central, “Futurama” will be returning to the place that birthed it - Fox. Matt Groening and David X. Cohen will be busy creating 26 new episodes for Fox after going off the air six years ago.

According to Comingsoon.net, the episodes will first be shown on Comedy Central starting in mid 2010 with Fox retaining broadcast rights.

This is fantastic, incredible, awesome news that can only inevitably lead to my personal dream of their being a spin-off show for Dr. Zoidberg.

Old Favorites presents: Ocean's Eleven

Every week, we'll present a film that was made before you were born and tells you why you should like it. This week, Old Favorites presents:

Ocean’s Eleven (1960)

In a scene between George Clooney and Brad Pitt in Ocean’s Thirteen, Danny and Rusty walk the strip ruminating over the grand changes that have swept the desert village of Las Vegas. While planning a final job in honor of their dying mentor, they relive the golden olden days when The Sands and The Flamingo were right down the road from each other, when they weren’t sure whether to hit or stay on seventeen, when the sort of surveillance equipment used in modern casinos wasn’t even dreamed of. It’s an interesting hat tip to the original film - or at least the time of the original film.

You’d have to assume that the mere presence of a modern take on the film featuring some of the biggest names in the business would automatically make the original feel dated, but the two films are so radically different that one barely has anything to say about the other content-wise. However, the mere existence of the newer film adds another dimension on viewing the original. If anything, the newer film franchise built from the remake is just one more reason to see the original to get a feel for where the birth of cool comes from.

In Ocean’s, a group of military men from the 82nd airborne come together fifteen years after the war to knock over five Las Vegas casinos on New Year’s Eve. After the job, a reformed mobster offers to recover the money for the casinos and blackmails Ocean for part of the take.

Unlike the modern version, the original barely focuses on the heist or the planning for it. For the most part, the story takes a look at a core group of the men, their personal relationships, and their need for the money. All in a loose way. As a result, it appears as if robbing millions of dollars from secure casinos is a relatively simple task. Set up five men to work at each outfit, rig the electrical wires so that the cage doors are wired to the lighting system, and then blow up an electrical tower. Instant wealth. Of course this was during a time when you had to dial the operator to connect your call and access to the main electrical grid to a major hotel was as easy as slipping by a single guard. The theft of such a large sum of money, and the fact that they knock over five casinos all on the same night is treated with the same sort of ennui that typifies Rat Pack cool - an interesting way to deal with a high-concept that would be blown out of proportion in marketing these days. The men of Ocean’s may desperately need the money (or not), but you’ll never see them sweat (unless they’re having a heart attack).

The comic ease of stealing that much money is offset by characters that switch between effortless cool to solid dramatic acting jobs. In some ways, the no-worries attitude of the film outdoes most anything that could be made today while the film also seems much heavier. Some of the humor is a bit darker, and one of the eleven has a serious heart defect that rears its head during the heist in a serious way. The threat of being outed to the police by former gangster Duke Santos (played by Caeser Romero) is a very real threat that causes the first real scheming of the entire film.

This film never strives to be taken too seriously, though - it’s obviously the thinnest vehicle needed to showcase Sinatra being a bad ass, Dean Martin being cool, and Sammy Davis Jr singing. In fact, it could have been called Ocean’s Four if it was being honest. The film only really looks at those three and Peter Lawford almost exclusively, while giving small glimpses at the other men but never daring to develop their characters in any real way.

Still, the feel of the film is what’s incredible. The cinematography is really excellent - a surprise for the type of movie it is, but it makes sense if you consider the goal of the movie was to highlight the swank nature of Las Vegas and the epically cool nature of the men involved. The dialog is lacking in some of the scenes that Sinatra, Martin, Davis Jr, or Lawford aren’t in. Overall, if you choose not to take the film too seriously, there are barely any real flaws to find.

It’s been fascinating to re-watch the film after seeing the Clooney version and its incarnations. For one, the difference between Sinatra’s gang and Clooney’s is striking. Sinatra earns the same depth of cool by leaning on a wall that Clooney needs several lines of quick-witted dialog to achieve. For two, the chasm between the films is so wide - one a non-serious look at a heist, the other a detailed engagement where new problems come up only to be solved by ingenuity and technology - that it offers a deeper appreciation of both movies. The original is a fantastic product of its time that is quasi-musical, quasi-character study, quasi-morality play all wrapped up in Sinatra’s fame. The modern version is also a product of its time with fast-paced dialog, hipper-than-thou attitudes and a labyrinthine plot that satisfies when all the chips are finally laid on the table.

So if you’ve never seen it before, or if you haven’t seen it since it was remade, Ocean’s Eleven
is a great movie to check out. It can both be appreciated on two levels now, which is almost always intriguing, but even if you’re just in the mood for a fun movie that could teach us all a lesson about what it means to be cool (and what might happen if you hide millions of dollars of stolen money in your friend’s coffin), it’s a solid choice.

David Carradine dead at 72

Several news sources are reporting that actor David Carradine has been found dead in his hotel room in Bangkok. He was there filming a new project. Sources are awaiting an autopsy report, but Carradine was found hanging from a rope in the room’s closet.
It almost goes without saying the legacy that the man has left behind. He made over 100 films ranging from westerns to martial arts flicks to horror to drama. Of course, his most famous work, “Kung Fu,” will probably continue to play in syndication until well after my children’s children discover it. He’s also left behind the iconic figure of Bill from Kill Bill which stands as a showcase of his subtle, quiet acting delivery and his fighting skill.
Our thoughts are with his family.
Let’s all celebrate the man by sharing some of our favorite moments he had on screen, shall we? Mine is probably Cannonball! It’s such a ridiculous film, and Carradine is just as ridiculously serious as he needs to be as Cannonball in such an awesomely bad movie. The premise is so stupid, and his character is so ill-concieved, but he does a great job at delivering a memorable performance. Even if I was laughing a few times where I wasn’t supposed to.

Other Career Highlights:

Television

"Shane" (1966)

"Kung Fu" (1972-1975)

"North and South" (1985)

"Kung Fu: The Legend Continues" (1992)

Film

Bound for Glory (1976)

Kill Bill: Vol. 1 (2003)

Kill Bill: Vol. 2 (2004)

Films Without Borders: The Square

Films Without Borders travels the world of international cinema each week to look for films worth visiting. So renew your passport, get your shots, and brush up on the local age of legal consent, this week we’re heading to…
Australia!
If and when we see the inevitable Hollywood remake of the recent Australian thriller The Square, I fully expect two immediate changes. The lead character’s name will be changed from Ray Yale to Ray Murphy, and the title will changed to Murphy’s Law. This has as much to do with Hollywood’s pronounced lack of subtlety as it does the fact that poor Ray Yale gets fucked repeatedly by that age old axiom over the course of the film.
Ray’s (David Roberts) life seems pretty straightforward at first. He runs a small but busy construction company, he’s married, and he has a sexy girlfriend named Carla (Claire van der Boom) on the side. This perfect little arrangement starts to unravel one day when those three aspects of his life collide. He’s taking cash kickbacks from one of his construction suppliers, his wife becomes suspicious of what his donger’s been up to, and Carla presents him with a dangerous proposition. Her husband, Smithy (Anthony Hayes), is hiding a bag filled with cash at home. She wants Ray to finally leave his wife and run away with her and the money. He reluctantly agrees, and the pair lay out a plan to burn Carla’s house down so her husband thinks the cash has been destroyed. Shockingly, everything that could possibly go wrong with their plan does so in spectacular fashion.

Director /co-writer Nash Edgerton has crafted a fairly intricate and suspenseful series of events within The Square. Like a chain of falling dominoes after midnight, each piece is guaranteed to lead to the next even if you may not know exactly where that next piece lies. Threads cross over each other from three different directions, and while it occasionally gets confusing Edgerton manages to pull them all together by the end. I will admit to losing track more than once of which greasy low-life was in cahoots with who, but I was back on track in time to watch the bodies to hit the floor. I blame my racist upbringing that causes me to see all sketchy and unshaven Australian males as indistinguishable from each other.

The town itself suffers no such identity crisis with several distinct and effective locations including the quiet suburbia, the lake that separates Ray and Carla’s homes, and the often muddy construction site that also provides the title’s foundation. Edgerton takes full advantage of atmosphere to present compelling quiet moments at home or in the back seat of a car as well as fast and lean entanglements that usually end in bloodied winners and losers.
The acting is fine with the two standouts being Roberts and Joel Edgerton (co-writer/director’s brother) as Billy the arsonist. Roberts’ portrayal of Ray as a sympathetic boob turns what could have been a thankless idiot into a character we almost want to succeed. He’s no angel, but he seems to be a fairly likable guy with incredibly poor judgement skills. As each new obstacle appears before him though, Ray’s reaction steps up another notch in severity and soon he’s lunging at folks with pick-axes and ramming them off the road. The resulting car spiralling wildly out of control is as apt a visual metaphor for Ray’s predicament as any other. Billy starts the film a bit further over the morality ledge than Ray, but he’s still someone simply trying to better his life in any way that doesn’t involve hurting others. He also fails miserably.

The Square verges on Coen Brothers’ territory with it’s multiple characters, plot lines, twists, and overall message that greed guarantees disaster, death, and bloodshed. It’s not nearly as sharp as the best the Coen’s have to offer (Fargo, No Country For Old Men) but it’s a more enjoyable film than their lesser morality plays like Burn After Reading. Considering this is Edgerton’s feature debut, that’s a strong and promising place to start.
The Square is available in a packed 2 disc Australian DVD, but as of now there is no US release scheduled.

James Cameron finally talks about 'Avatar' at E3

Few films are as hotly anticipated this December as Alvin & the Chipmunks: The Squeakuel, but let’s not talk about that. Instead, we’ve got a quick update on a film that just may be this year’s Juno and the sleeper-hit of 2009… James Cameron’s Avatar.
Avatar is Cameron’s first feature film since Titanic, and the buzz is insanely high for what promises to be a 3-D action/adventure/sci-fi/fantasy hybrid of epic proportions. At least that’s what movie blogs (like this one) have been saying since the movie was first announced… But the details have been sparse as to the film’s storyline and content. We already knew that the film follows the story of a space marine (Sam Worthington) working on the distant planet of Pandora which is inhabited by a humanoid race known as the Na’vi. He attempts to settle the planet as an alternative home for humanity, but he gets in too deep with the Na’vi and ultimately crosses over to lead the indigenous race in a battle for survival.
Cameron appeared at E3 yesterday ostensibly to discuss the Avatar videogame adaptation but also to share a bit more about his film. Some of the highlights include: Pandora is the large moon of a gas giant planet called Polyphemus, and is earth-like with lush rainforests, thousand-foot tall trees, and a myriad of creatures, some of which are quite beautiful and some of which are quite terrifying… the Na’vi are ten feet tall, with blue skin, stripes like tigers, and long tails who live harmoniously in their forest environment when humans aren’t trampling their planet. A primitive culture with bows and arrows they ultimately prove to be much wiser than we humans… the major conceit of the story is a human/Na’vi hybrid called Avatars created through genetic engineering, they’re living breathing bodies in a real world controlled by a human driver who projects their consciousness by a technology that links their mind to the Avatar body while their human body is in a coma-like state… Worthington plays Jake Sully, a Marine wounded and paralyzed in combat, who can walk, run, and live again as the Avatar, and he falls in love with a Na’vi girl who’s a smoking hot action character.
And the most exciting thing James Cameron says in the entire presentation? “The battle at end of movie is the mother of all battles with human technology, helicopter gunships, and all kinds of futuristic weaponry against the Na’vi giants riding their creatures which include the formidable flying banshees.” Cameron knows action, and the opening of T2 was only a hint of what the man could do with a full-scale battle scene.

More than one person has already pointed out the major Dances With Wolves vibe coming from the story, but as long as the action is as hardcore and epic (and not cartoonish) as Cameron implies that’s fine with me.

Old Favorites Presents: Greed and Madness in 'The Treasure of the Sierra Madre'

Every week, The Daily Supernova presents a movie made before you were born and tells you why you should like it. This week, Old Favorites presents:
The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948)
Three men who have just met each other looking for gold in the mountains of Mexico with nothing in their favor - no asset but their own lives and no soul alive waiting upon their return. Sounds like the perfect set-up for a dark, pessimistic tale of failing aspirations, and The Treasure of the Sierra Madre plays like one from the very beginning to the very end. Well almost, as writer/director John Huston decides to turn it all into a cruel joke.
Fred C. Dobbs (Humphrey Bogart) is a bum living on panhandling in the Mexican town of Tampico. He’s grumpy and wicked, always carrying a feeling that whoever has any money or luck must have stolen it from his share. He throws water on a kid’s face for trying to sell him lottery tickets and hits on the same guy for change three times in one day - till the latter tells him off: “From now on, you’ll have to make your way through life without my assistance…” The next guy he asks for help offers him a job and Dobbs takes it. There, he gets better acquainted with Bob Curtin (Tim Holt), another drifter who has no plan of how to make it in that crappy town. Together they work hard, but they get tricked by the contractor and never get paid. That night, their paths meet with that of an old goldminer named Howard (Walter Huston) and the seeds of treasure hunting are planted.
Howard is recounting his experiences in the form of a morality lecture to a bunch of other guys. He talks of how a prospector is always out to make a bigger fortune and always ends with nothing, how he collects it and blows it on his next quest in a vicious cycle. Gold is good for nothing but jewlery and teeth, the only thing giving it its worth being the hard labor of the men set out to dig for it, another irrational circle. He also says that gold makes monsters out of men. They even begin to consider murder while trying to protect their share from their partners. But, regardless, he declares ready to hit the mountains again for gold if a guy showed up to split expenses.
The next day, the two drifters are on the streets again, but Dobbs can’t forget Howard’s goldmining tall tales. He says the old guy could be proven wrong and a man with integrity could turn that whole gold business from a curse to a blessing. He already wonders if he could be that man. Then, by a turn of luck, they find the contractor who skipped on their payment and force it out of him. They meet Howard and tell him about putting an outfit together and going for that gold. He’s ready but they’re short on some cash. Out of nowhere, Dobbs’s share on a winning lottery ticket brings him the money and the journey begins.
Huston, also the screenwriter, has up to this point given us a good look at the three characters who are about to spend a lot of time and sweat together. Dobbs is a pure soldier of fortune, talks a lot about himself and how hard it is to make it big in this world for a decent man. Howard is a hard nosed guy who gets up every time he’s beaten down and has wisened up by experience. Curtin is a tough, quiet fellow, always ready to break a sweat and with no big aspiration in life but to work in the fruit fields. They all want the gold but what each one is ready to sacrifice remains to be seen. In their hunt for wealth, success and security they deal with the wilderness, the Mexican bandits, the fatigue (physical and mental) but most of all with themselves and their limits.
Paranoia and demoralization are the main symptoms of the gold fever, which, like any illness, affects the three men by a different degree. Howard and Curtin reveal they have something to go for after their quest while Dobbs has no immediate plan but to spend a lot of his dough and make other people know how large he’s living. So there no question as to why he’s the first to dive into full insanity and feel his goods are constantly covetted by the others. Humphrey Bogart gives a great performance as Fred C. Dobbs, becoming the most despicable of the bunch, his eyes always revealing the evil that goes on in his head. Still, the show is stolen by the director’s father, Walter Huston, as the semi-crazy Howard with his unstoppable mumbling, his knowingness and his loud obnoxious laugh. Tim Holt on the other hand, keeps things perfectly balanced with his low-key, likeable depiction of Curtin, the man of little talk and much principle. Those three make every moment of interaction between them worth watching.
John Huston’s direction is superb, there’s no wasted shot and his narration never loses its pace as it moves forward to the sarcastic redemption. Obviously, the moral is simple, but if people didn’t learn the hard way there wouldn’t be any progress at all. Sometimes though, in order to learn, we have to go through a shock, a revelation or even a large-scale irony, like the one that takes place in Sierra-Madre.

'UP' is the first great movie of 2009

There is something about the craft of great storytelling, the truly magical nature of a tale so perfectly executed that just grabs the heart strings of its audience and never lets go. In the modern world of film, this kind of story seems to be a rare breed, the kind that only comes around once in a great while. To quote a wise man, they just don’t make them like they used to — the big, beautiful tales that spoke to the reality and beauty of the human experience. So when such a tale is committed to celluloid, it is important to take a moment to stop and take note. To stop and smell the rosy scent of a well crafted story and allow it to seep in and move you.
Such is the case with the 10th film from the storytelling wizards from Emeryville, California, the men and women of Pixar Animation Studios. With Up — the simple story of an aging man named Carl Fredricksen — they have delivered their most beautiful tale. It is their first truly touching human story, one that deals with love and loss and all of those inherent things that represent the ups and downs of life.
The story begins in the childhood of Carl (voiced by Ed Asner), whose love of adventure leads him to meet a spunky young girl named Ellie. And in the first 20 minutes — a sequence that could easily be removed from this film and win an Oscar on its own — we watch Carl and Ellie live out their lives, plan for adventures that never seem to come and eventually grow old together. Cue the part where even a large, manly man such as myself begins to weep as the story begins to take root. It is the kind of evocative story that is reminiscent of the silent era — when storytellers could draw out emotions so deep without any dialog at all.

The story of Carl and Ellie may only be the prologue to the fun adventure that is at the heart of Up, but it is significant in that it shows us who Carl really is. We know his life story, and we are instantly able to connect and understand that he’s not just another cranky old man. He’s a lovable man who has suffered great loss, and now he’s left to find his own way in the wilderness.

Of course, Carl’s way is the most grand of all. As suited developers try to take away his home, he plots his swift escape by tying thousands of balloons to his home, allowing him to simply float away in search of the great adventures that he and Ellie had always promised to have together. The only problem is that he’s also the proud captain of a flying two-story Victorian and a stowaway wilderness explorer named Russell (voiced by Jordan Nagai). Together they head out into the wild where an amazing adventure awaits, filled with diabolical explorers, wild and untamed animals and yes, even a few talking dogs.
What makes this film, which is the second directorial work from Pete Docter (Monsters Inc.), work so well is its story, which I believe I’ve spent more than enough time on. Its beautiful, that’s a fact — lets move on, shall we? Beyond that we are presented with characters so infinitely lovable that it should be outlawed. Ed Asner breathes life into Carl in a way that only he can, giving an unexpected charm to the curmudgeon. The character of Russell is fun, a very every-child who is ready to take on the world but isn’t without his own problems at home. The two have such unmistakable chemistry that it’s easy to forget that these are animated characters in a children’s movie.
In fact, the film has such depth that it almost has to have the silly moments that remind us that we’re watching a film meant for the little ones. And even those moments — everything from the dogs with collars that allow them to talk to the film’s lone poop joke — are so meticulously planned and perfectly executed that they fit perfectly into this wonderfully sweet story. For example, in the first exchange between crabby Carl and Russell, we watch as the old man sends the endearingly annoying little guy in search of a Snipe. And even though he’s shooing him away with a series of old man quips, we can see a glimmer of affection. It is moments like this one, scattered all along the trail of this wild adventure, that represent a commitment to building this grand story upon a foundation of small, heartfelt moments.
And as with almost every Pixar movie, the technical side of Up is equally as impressive. The animated landscapes are grand and gorgeous. The colors are vibrant and magnificent. And in 3D the film has an amazing depth to it that is unparalleled. No cheap 3D gags or gimmicks here, just a crystal clear window into a world that feels as if it goes on forever.
Composer Michael Giacchino compliments this with big, sweeping score that combines a fun, upbeat and oddly nostalgic tone of strings with the high-energy brass that is fit perfectly for the film’s numerous second half chase sequences. Both score and animation combine to create an environment so big and full of life, it is almost unlike anything Pixar has ever tried to do in the past.
Therein lies the true brilliance of a film like Up. It is a fun, epic adventure story about two age-separated explorers traversing out into uncharted territory. But it also never loses sight of the very intimate, very touching and essentially human story that it is trying to tell. It is that rare breed of family movie that speaks to anyone and everyone, the kind that will make the kids laugh while the adults cry. A wonderfully sweet and exciting tale that is without a doubt the first great film of 2009.

FINAL SCORE:

9.5

'Drag Me to Hell" delivers on the scares and laughs

The first sequence of Drag Me To Hell throws you into a house where a young boy’s family brings him after being tormented for three days by voices and unseen, violent spirits. After an intense impromptu séance, we get to see the demon’s flame-filled endgame. The walls bending, an invisible entity slamming people up against the furniture, the marble cracking against the shrieks of lost souls. Before you have time to catch your breath, the giant words DRAG ME TO HELL slam onto the screen, taking up every inch in bold lettering. And so it begins.
As a major fan of Raimi’s terror work of the past - that mix of near-campy humor, disgusting images, and loud-as-hell jump scares, Drag Me To Hell renewed my faith in fun filmmaking.
Christine Brown (Alison Lohman) is a loans officer angling for the assistant manager position at her bank which means shedding some of the shyness and making the hard decisions. One of those hard decisions is kicking hyper-old Gypsy Mrs. Ganush (Lorna Raver) out of her home by refusing to extend her loan payments for a third time. This, of course, results in Ganush seeking Christine out, attacking her, and placing a curse on her that gives her only three days of torture to find a way to avoid being dragged down to an eternity of a very dry heat.
Holy hell, I loved this movie.
First of all, Sam Raimi was swinging some giant cajones to do some of the things he pulls off in this movie. Very few directors (outside maybe Peter Jackson) would have the sensibility to create a movie that combines the diverse elements of horror and comedy into one package that completely satisfies. Not only do the jumps and the laughter co-mingle from scene to scene, they often exist side by side during a single sequence - try not to pull back, cringe, and burst out laughing when Ganush tries to gum Christine’s lower jaw off. While you’re at it, try to keep the bile from rising because it’s also incredibly gross.
And it all works. The characters and the story come together beautifully with all of the dark intentions that you’d hope from a horror story. The stakes are incredibly high - we’re talking about a young woman’s eternal damnation, demons feasting the bits of her soul forever and ever amen - and Sam and Ivan Raimi have written a screenplay that doesn’t shy away from putting its main character in deep shit. They don’t back away from the challenge and weight of being sucked through the cold concrete to burn forever, all while giving her several options to avoid it - whenever one doesn’t work out, they open the window on another. It’s a structure that works incredibly well, mostly because the danger is real, the solution isn’t easy, and Christine gets the crap beaten out of her by the shadow of a goat-demon the entire time.
Lohman is great, harboring the kind of sweet disdain that her character needs. She’s an everyman, just trying to get ahead in an unfair business world where her boss dangles her competition for a promotion in front of her face. There’s definitely a subtle hint of the struggle almost all women must go through in trying to prove themselves to male bosses - but it’s never pronounced, light years away from preachy. It’s completely frustrating, and Lohman carries that and the concept of growing within that world really well. You definitely feel for Christine, even if you know nothing of her outside her actions within the scope of the film (besides the fact that she used to be fat growing up). Playing off that sensitivity and strength of a woman losing her mind in the real and spirit worlds, Justin Long plays her boyfriend Clay brilliantly. His normal snark is reigned in enough to make him likable and sweet, although he gets a few one-liners in, they are presented as background so he never has a chance to get annoying. He’s also a great moral grounding - a smart guy who stands up for his girlfriend to his parents, believes in Christine’s potential, and comes through for her simply because he took a personal vow when he fell in love with her. All of this is done without pretense, so it’s not cheesy or fake.
The supporting cast is also fantastic. Dileep Rao as the seer Rham Jas is great and Adriana Barraza is intense as a medium who’s waited decades for another chance to destroy the evil spirit. There’s also little more concomitantly heartbreaking and disgusting as Lorna Raver’s Mrs. Ganush removing her dentures to eat hard candy.
But of course the real standout, what we all came to see, is the sheer amount of gory ridiculousness that was advertised. And Drag Me To Hell delivers in bucket loads. Most of it is mucus and embalming fluid, but there’s a little blood thrown in for good measure. The PG-13 rating shouldn’t scare anyone off - Raimi has done something brilliant by returning to the classic standby of atmospheric horror as opposed to relying on the crutch of CGI or showing a monster whose zipper is showing. Most of the jump scares work effectively, but a lot of the tension comes from creating a brooding atmosphere - wind that’s a little too strong, inanimate objects shaking on their own, shadows chasing up the wall - and then delivering on it. Whereas some directors can either create the atmosphere or the explosive pay off but not both, Raimi builds creepy scenes to a climax and either pays them off then and there or gives you a few moments to think the terror has passed. Plus, he does it all with a great sense of humor, too.
The main reason those scares work is the ear-crushing score. Single violins, grinding horn lines, and booming full-orchestra sweeps should remind you of when sound mattered in film. In no other scene is this pushed more to the forefront than the scene in which Jas, the spirit medium and Christine come together to summon the spirit. While the camera circles the room or closes up on faces, the score is given the full responsibility for several minutes to produce a feeling of terror and anticipation, and it works beautifully. With a little aid from the looks of danger on the actor’s faces, the music swells beyond what you expect your ear drums can take. And it’s freakin' incredible.
Some of the CGI doesn’t work (which makes me even more thankful that Raimi doesn’t overuse it) or it comes off as way too cartoonish. There’s an argument that since some of the scenes are possible hallucinations and they’re pretty over-the-top silly in the first place, that the CGI fits in, but ultimately I wish it had been a bit cleaner. It would have been great to see more realistic CGI added to an already great movie. The same goes for maybe one or two groan-worthy lines. The bulk of it all works really well within the sometimes-campy, sometimes-deadly-serious world, but a few lines cross over into cheese territory.
Still, it’s fantastic to see when a director is simply having fun with the art of filmmaking. It’s easy to tell that Raimi had a lot of love for this project, and that his cast and crew probably had a blast making it. It’s scary when it needs to be, hilarious almost constantly and shot really interestingly. Plus, there are at least three situations that seem totally unethical, yet totally easy to get behind - which made me question my status as a decent human being on the walk back home from the theater. It would impossible to mention them without spoiling the movie, but trust my earlier statement about it taking big brass cajones to make this film.
It all works. A return to Raimi’s roots, a return to atmospheric horror, a return to fun filmmaking. It’s probably the most fun I’ve had sitting in a darkened theater all year, and I owe it all to Sam Raimi and Alison Lohman’s ability to make out with a dead body.
FINAL SCORE:
8.5

Films Without Borders: Waltz with Bashir

This is the beginning of a new column called Films Without Borders, where we'll travel the world of international cinema each week looking for films worth visiting. So renew your passport, get your shots, and brush up on the local age of legal consent, this week we’re heading to Israel!

Waltz With Bashir opens on an animated, rain-soaked street to the sounds of growling. A dog appears, running, snarling, and is soon joined by several more until a full pack is tearing through the streets terrorizing everyone nearby. The accompanying music builds in rhythm and intensity until the dogs and the viewer come to a stop beneath an apartment building. The dogs stare upward with violent intent on their faces and in their snarls, while in a window high above, a man looks down in fear. A friend is telling the film’s director, Ari Folman, about a recurring dream in which he’s chased by 26 vicious dogs. Always 26, always intent on tearing him to shreds. The friend knows why he’s being chased and it can be traced back to his experiences as a soldier during the 1982 Israeli invasion of Lebanon, but the dream stirs a realization in Ari. He was in the war as well, but he remembers nothing.
What follows is Ari’s real-life documentary and quest for answers told via interviews with past friends. The conversations were recorded and filmed, but then animated for the movie. As they speak their memories, dreams, and hallucinations come to life on-screen, both as their own tales and as pieces of Ari’s mental puzzle. Each revelation brings his own memories closer to the event that his mind refuses to recall. The event in question is the massacre of Palestinian refugees at Sabra and Shatila, mostly women, children, and the elderly, committed by members of the radical Christian Phalangist militia under the not-so watchful eyes of the Israeli Defense Force.
The beauty of Waltz With Bashir is two-fold. Visually speaking, the animation and imagery on display are alternately haunting, invigorating, and humorous. (One sad but funny montage shows a red Mercedes used in drive-by shootings of Israeli soldiers, and the ridiculous succession of attempts to stop it.) Israeli soldiers slowly climbing out of the sea against the backdrop of a bombed-out city; one soldier’s dream about a nude, twenty-foot tall woman who seduces him off of his ship and onto her belly only to watch the cruiser explode minutes later; Lebanese child soldiers gunned down before they can fire their RPG rockets; a club back in Israel where Ari’s ex-girlfriend and others dance to a brain-numbing beat without guilt, regret, or awareness of the war next door.
Also of note is the the film’s ability to walk a fine line between autobiography and history. The actual massacres are still a hotly debated topic with fingers pointed in every direction. The Christian militia actually committed the atrocity, but Israeli commanders (most notably Ariel Arik Sharon) most likely had some knowledge that it was happening yet did nothing to stop the slaughter. Some may expect an Israeli filmmaker like Ari to lessen the responsibility carried by his people in some way, but his film never shies away from what he and his witnesses see as the truth. One of Ari’s friends in the film, a therapist of sorts, tells him his actions prove that he should be free of guilt. But as Ari’s memories are restored the film takes the viewers along to the event he tried so hard to forget. For the first time in the film, animation gives way to actual newsreel footage and we realize that memory and guilt are intertwined and equally subjective. Waltz With Bashir is a powerful and personal tale of one man’s wartime experience that manages a fair job of dispersing blame and guilt liberally on all sides while remaining focused on Ari’s own story. The movie explores the slippery and subjective nature of memory and guilt with an animated and visually arresting style, using music, interviews, and sound effects to immerse the viewer in an original experience.