The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

If any film needed no introduction, it's likely this one. Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings trilogy is one of the major movie milestones of my generation. I was at the perfect age where my interest in fantasy and film were really starting to develop so I was able to enjoy those movies on multiple levels and haven't stopped enjoying them as I've grown up. It's been almost a full decade since The Return of the King conquered the box office and the Oscars, and after much deliberation and nearly immeasurable amounts of hype, The Hobbit is finally a cinematic reality.

I've been among the millions eagerly anticipating its release, having read the book some time ago and recalling it with fondness. And with that in mind, I knew that The Hobbit trilogy would have quite a tall order to fill in bridging the gap between the titular book and the much grander epic trilogy that came after. The critics haven't been as enamored of An Unexpected Journey as they were with The Lord of the Rings trilogy - but I'll address that a little further in my review.

THE PROS

There's a lot to be said about this film, and I'm tempted to just gush. But in the interest of efficiency we'll do this by the numbers.

First up on the list is casting, in particularly how Peter Jackson has once again fit actors to roles brilliantly. Martin Freeman makes a fantastic Bilbo Baggins, and without just doing an impression of Ian Holm. He's a bit on the timid side, but not annoyingly fragile - and his transformation as a character from apprehensive hobbit to unlikely adventurer is subtle and convincing. Richard Armitage plays Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of the dwarves and the hero figure of the troupe. Each of the dwarves possess unique characteristics and qualities that makes them easier to identify and understand, which is no small trick for a host of 13 warriors. All of the returning cast - Ian McKellen as Gandalf, Hugo Weaving as Elrond, Cate Blanchett as Galadriel, etc. - reprise their roles wonderfully. And it's a treat to see some of these characters before Sauron's rise in the later trilogy steals some of their fervor.

Visually, An Unexpected Journey is as stunning and impressive as any of the Lord of the Rings trilogy; perhaps even more so. The familiar set pieces (Bag End, Rivendell, etc.) are all presented in new ways, at different angles and with emphasis on other aspects of their architecture. This works wonders in keeping the film looking fresh and new rather than simply new scenes filmed in old sets. While the scope of the story is somewhat smaller here, the grandeur of moments like the Stone Giants slugging it out or Smaug's attack on Erebor are all wondrous to behold. And Gollum looks as fantastic as ever. In extreme closeups his skin looked so realistic I wondered if a few shots had been done in camera with makeup; to say nothing of Andy Serkis' superlative performance.

Howard Shore triumphantly returns to score this prequel trilogy, and the result is spot-on perfect. His music is familiar yet fresh; capturing the well established themes from the original trilogy with new orchestration while adding a host of new and intriguing Middle-earth melodies.

The biggest accomplishment of An Unexpected Journey, though, is in its narrative. The Hobbit as a book is problematic on a number of levels when considering a screen adaptation. There are basically 15 "main" characters, there are no female characters to speak of, silly songs abound on every page, a handful of conflicts are resolved in a very anticlimactic fashion; it's a children's story, lacking the emotional depth and intensity of the Lord of the Rings. Jackson has managed to preserve much of the existing narrative from the book while fleshing out a number of details and exploring peripheral lore courtesy of Tolkien's lesser known works. The resulting film is markedly different from The Lord of the Rings, but as the starting point of the bridge between the two works it's exactly what I was hoping for. Say what you will about milking a cash cow with another Tolkien trilogy, but I don't see any other way to really do justice to the man's work.

THE CONS

I personally loved this movie and really didn't find too much to take fault with. When first introduced it sounds like some of the dwarves don't really know what accent they're supposed to be using, but it's only a few lines of dialogue.

The movie is almost 3 hours long. Such a run time is fantastic news to me, but I've heard more than a fair share of people decrying its lack of brevity so perhaps you'll find this a deterrent.

An Unexpected Journey is a little slow in getting started, and there are a few scenes in the first 30 minutes or so that could have benefited from a re-edit. But once the principle action of the film gets underway, I personally lost all track of time and was swept up in the narrative.

THE VERDICT

The Hobbit is a children's book; The Lord of the Rings is not. Consequently, there are a number of things that will be tonally and thematically different by their very nature. Having read several reviews, I feel that much of the negative criticism leveled against this movie comes from people who were expecting a repeat of The Lord of the Rings and/or hadn't read any of Tolkien's work. So I don't think An Unexpected Journey is getting the credit it deserves. My suspicion is that as the next two films are released, critics and audiences will begin to see a progression throughout that trilogy that will serve to lead into The Lord of the Rings rather than simply recapture their experience.

For me, An Unexpected Journey succeeds on multiple levels and was quite literally exactly what I was expecting. Some of the film's sillier moments and sight gags felt right at home, as this movie is significantly less menacing than the trilogy that preceded it. For example, goblins and trolls speak in English accents and don't appear quite as feral or animalistic as a result. That's not to say the movie is without its fair share of frights, but it is a shade more light-hearted.

In spite of this, the film is still absolutely thrilling and while the action scenes and sword fights are a bit sparse - they're well choreographed, well shot, and downright exciting once they get going. My faith in Peter Jackson's ability to adapt this trilogy has never been stronger, and I can't wait to go back and see how it looks in 48fps.

Lincoln

I'll be the first to admit that Abraham Lincoln is the "right answer" when the question of "Who was the greatest President?" makes its way into a given conversation; akin to the Sunday school answer of "Jesus!" to every question posed. Even amongst the iconic names like George Washington and Thomas Jefferson, it seems like quite a challenge to find a man who weathered a more difficult time in the history of our nation with such grace and dignity. He's become a legend, and rightly so.

Many a miniseries, radio drama, and film has attempted to depict Lincoln dramatically. And earlier this year saw his tongue-in-cheek incarnation in Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Slayer. But it should come as no surprise that the latest depiction of Honest Abe may be the greatest, as Steven Spielberg's Lincoln released last week to critical acclaim. The film focuses on the final months of the Civil War - and by extension, Lincoln's life - and the political intrigue surrounding the passing of the 13th Amendment. With an ensemble cast and a host of Oscar-winning Spielberg regulars (John Williams, Janusz Kaminski, Michael Kahn, etc.), Lincoln has all the ear-marks of an early Oscar contender.

THE PROS

Even if you haven't seen the movie, you've likely heard the praise or expected great things from the trailer. If you take one thing away from this review, it's that all the hype is well deserved.

Lincoln is not a war movie really by any stretch. At the film's opening there is a scene depicting the brutal chaos of battle that lasts for just under a minute, and there is another brief scene at a hospital that depicts a wheelbarrow of amputated limbs being carted away. But aside from those two moments, the film is devoid of blood or gore and all of the conflict depicted is either interpersonal or political.

As a character-driven film, much of my praise is directed at the character-driven aspects; namely the acting. It should come as no surprise that Daniel Day-Lewis has once again crafted a performance for which he will almost assuredly win Best Actor. I was immediately thrilled when the first trailers for the film came out and I heard Day-Lewis's take on Lincoln's voice. While Lincoln's legend has endowed his memory with a commanding and booming voice, eyewitness (earwitness?) accounts from the era indicate his voice was rather high-pitched and somewhat nasal. So I was excited to see that even such a seemingly insignificant detail was already being incorporated into the authenticity of the film before it was even released. But the voice is only one piece to the puzzle that makes up Day-Lewis' magnificent performance. The way he gestures with his hands, his rather awkward gait, his odd but endearing sense of humor; all of these are rendered so wonderfully that Mr. Day-Lewis once again completely disappears into his role. He is Abraham Lincoln, and the film is naturally all the stronger for it.

But right alongside Day-Lewis' powerhouse performance is a treasure trove of equally engrossing performances. Sally Field balances tender heartache with subtle histrionics as the unstable Mary Todd Lincoln. David Strathairn's turn as Secretary of State William Seward is appropriately tense, while Tommy Lee Jones as Thaddeus Stevens is cunning but convicting. With a cast as recognizable as they are talented, I'm tempted to go name-by-name in praise of each performance. But suffice it to say that everyone - from Lee Pace to Jared Harris to Jackie Earle Hayley to Joseph Gordon-Levitt and everyone in between - perform marvelously under Spielberg's expert directorial care.

Which brings me to the next point of interest: the directing. It's often hard to take note of a director's "performance" in the absence of personal touches or flairs for flash. But Spielberg does an outstanding job putting this film together. The pacing is methodical but even and engaging. Each shot is framed with textbook precision, and the color palette employed gives Lincoln a mildly weathered look. There's no evidence of a mass bleach-bypass or anything, but each frame of the movie feels as though it has been gently aged for effect.

And John Williams is at it again. His score for Lincoln isn't quite as iconic or grandiose as the work that's made him a living legend. But between piano melodies that evoke Gospel hymns of the time period and tragically triumphant brass in the main theme, the score stays with you long after the credits have rolled.

THE CONS

The movie is two and a half hours long, and while I personally didn't find that to be a deterrent I'm sure there are those who would be less than pleased with such a run-time regarding material that's comparatively bland next to an action heavy movie like Gettysburg or Glory.

THE VERDICT

Lincoln is, as I hinted at before, likely to be up for several nominations at the next Academy Awards ceremony. And I wouldn't be surprised to see it take away the Best Picture Oscar either, though there's still plenty of time between now and then for other films to join the running.

From what I can gather, the film takes little historical license with its topic and more or less conveys things as they happened authentically. But the most important detail that appears to be rendered with complete historical accuracy - so far as we can tell - is the person of Lincoln himself. Some of the best moments in the movie are those in which Lincoln showcases what secured him the Presidency in the first place: his personable nature and undeniable sincerity. The movie is downright funny in several places as Lincoln shares a humorous tale or tells a joke with the purpose of drawing a parallel or illustrating a point. And it's in those moments, though I'm aware that I'm only watching a performance, that I feel as though I'm getting to know Abraham Lincoln a little better. It's this feeling that ultimately makes Lincoln a triumph. It's an intimately personal film that doesn't really go out of its way to praise the memory of our 16th President, because the case for his acclaim is readily self-evident in his words and actions.

While it only focuses on a very brief moment in Lincoln's life, I'm of the opinion that this movie may be the quintessential portrait of the man. There's a palpable depth to the entire film no matter which part you inspect, and this depth reflects the gravity of the historical events depicted.

Lincoln is a superlative achievement, and one that dutifully honors the man it depicts. In short, Steven Spielberg has done it again, ladies and gentlemen.

The Room - Live at Inwood Theater! (November 16-18, 2012)

DO YOU UNDERSTAND LIFE!?!? DO YOU!?!?

There are times I think I do. Then I sit down to watch Tommy Wiseau's seminal masterpiece, The Room, and I think to myself: "Maybe I don't understand life."

Some of you might feel a little bit lost right now; a bit confused as to what's going on and just who that dead-eyed fellow is leering at you in the black and white poster immediately to the right of this text.

"Lemme 'splain....no, there is too much. Lemme sum up."
 
The year 2003 saw the release of The Room; a film widely regarded as one of the worst ever made. If you've never seen it, you might find that statement a bit of a leap. Maybe you suspect critics of employing some good ol' fashioned hyperbole in their assessment of this film. Maybe it's bad, but not that bad, right?

Wrong.

Here's the basic hierarchy of cinema:

1) Good movies.
2) Bad movies.
3) So-bad-they're-good movies
4) So-bad-they're-just-plain-terrible movies
5) The Room

If you've spent any time on the internet, you've likely seen the clips and memes mined from this train-wreck of a movie. "OH HAI!" and "You're TEARing me aPART liSA!" etc. These are some of the highlights from The Room, but they in no way convey just how deliciously awful this movie is from start to finish. It's so bad that it might be one of the funniest things you'll ever watch, to say nothing of the host of basic movie-making gaffes practically spilling out of each scene. And consequently, The Room has gained a cult following with midnight showings around the country throughout the year.

It was just such a midnight showing in Dallas at the Inwood Theater that called me away from my dwellings in San Antonio this past weekend. Teaming up with my aforementioned cinephile companion and fellow The Room fanatic Andy Huber, we set off to catch a peek inside the madness of these midnight showings.

We arrived quite early thanks to the 85mph speed limit on Texas 130 - the new toll road around Austin and settled into the makeshift line that was beginning to form at the Inwood Theater. The building was a fantastic vignette; a theater from a bygone era converted into a modern day movie-house still retaining much of its retro feel.

Roundabouts 10:30, we spied a taxi pulling up to the theater. We peered around our fellow patrons and the door obscuring our view to suss out whether or not the passengers were in fact Tommy Wiseau and Greg Sestero, who plays Mark in The Room. Much to our delight, the guests of honor had arrived and exactly as we expected...which is to say that Greg "Sestosterone" Sestero was dressed in a casual-yet-comfortable jeans-n-jacket ensemble while his counterpart sported the usual combination of rock star heroin addict we've come to expect. And Mr. Wiseau is never to be parted from his sunglasses; no, not even when the sun has long since set. My suspicion is that this has to do with radiation from the destruction of his home planet, but more on my theories about Tommy's status as alien being later on.

PHOTO CREDIT: Whoever took this picture of some guys I know.

Both Tommy and Greg immediately set about tossing around a football, a move whose significance fans of The Room will appreciate. Tommy would indicate which member of the attendees crowded around the lobby he intended to throw the football to by pointing and wiggling his finger as if it were a worm trying desperately to escape from the alien to which it had been sewn. He would then toss the football to the lucky patron, who would more often than not catch it and then pass it back to him. This proceeded for about 15 to 20 minutes before the stars settled behind a little merch table for some autograph signing and picture taking.

Just before this, Tommy did a quick once-over of the crowd, shaking hands briefly. I managed to grasp his appendage for a brief moment, and I'm confident that what I felt was the synthetic skin from his "human-suit" that's meant to help him look like one of us Earthlings. This also accounts for the ways his eyes appear to be falling out of his head; I'm guessing he just hasn't had a chance to repair some of the slippage from the suit in several years. Maybe he came from the wrong side of the tracks on that planet and couldn't afford one of the nicer skin suits, like the one Christopher Walken wears. I'm just spitballing here.

Before too long, it was time to make our way into the theater, which we all did with eager steps. On my way in I managed to snag a high-five from Sestero, whose somewhat catatonic gaze betrayed the dismay he's apparently been carrying with him ever since The Room stole what chance he might have had as a Hollywood leading man.

Once in the theater, our eyes were met with the following sight:

 Yes indeed, ladies and gentlemen. Auditorium 1 in The Landmark Inwood Theater features only couch, loveseat, and beanbag seating. And, to add sprinkles to the icing on the cake, each couch had a matching ottoman. Thus, settling into our seats involved kicking back and relaxing in a luxury I don't fully have even in my own home. Why every theater in the entire world doesn't have this feature, I'll never know, but they should all take a cue from John Hammond.

"Hold on to your butts."

After the loyal patrons had found their respective seats (and in a few cases, snagged a 5-minute nap) Tommy and Greg arrived to do a brief Q&A before the show. There were several questions posed to the duo, all of which were surprisingly pertinent. Greg and Tommy answered in turn, and in ways consistent with their demeanor. I can confirm that Tommy is entrenched in his claims that The Room has been unjustly vilified. When asked by an audience member what defines bad acting, Tommy's answer amounted to him saying that everyone acts all the time anyway, and there's no such thing as bad acting. Greg's response to the same question was "I think you all know what bad acting looks like." Such was the tone of the Q&A; Tommy exhibiting a relentless commitment to The Room, and Greg being vaguely self-deprecating about the entire experience.

"I'll never love again."

One audience member asked for Tommy and Greg to sing "Happy Birthday" to a friend of theirs, whose name they were told was Dusty. The young lady Dusty ascended the stage and after Tommy failed to get her name right ("Justine?..Justy?...Justry...well, whatever.") commenced with an aborted version of the Happy Birthday song which was rendered thus:

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you...dear Justine...HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Ok, that's all."

Again, my suspicion is that Tommy just hasn't spent enough time with our species to learn all our strange customs, so it's the thought that counts.

Having sufficiently connected with his audience, Tommy sprinted out of the theater with Greg in tow to the roar of applause. Finally the lights dimmed, and The Room began. Under normal circumstances, talking in a movie theater is more or less an execution order as far as I'm concerned. But with a midnight screening of The Room, the idea is to - in the words of Tommy himself - "laugh, cry, express yourself...just please don't hurt each other." So the majority of the film was spent yelling all the iconic lines at the screen as they happen. Shouting "You're tearing me apart, Lisa!" with a room full of like-minded enthusiasts was a joy in and of itself. But it's the makeshift audience protocol that makes attending a midnight showing of The Room an absolute must for any fan.

To begin with, each time one of the pictures with stock photos of silverware appears, handfuls of plastic spoons are hurled at the screen. Don't worry about bringing your own, usually one or two trusty attendees will arrive with a bucket or two in tow and you'll have more than enough projectiles to collect as they rain down on and around you and your loved ones.

Next, each time characters begin to make out, the entire audience makes a loud gulping sound in time with each smooch; as if the entire room was swallowing the face of their significant other.

But by far my favorite audience tradition is "counting." This manifests itself in a few ways, as there are numerous opportunities. But the most hilarious one is during the initial love scene between Tommy and Juliette. As if seeing Tommy's human-suit skin clinging to him vigorously isn't hilarious enough, the entire audience began counting each thrust of his hips during the already-awkward lovemaking occurring onscreen. It might sound just weird, as opposed to funny. But believe me; listening to an audience shout "5!...6!....7!...etc." at full force during that scene is among the funniest things that I've ever personally witnessed. And those are only a few of the ridiculous and hilarious things the audience does to participate in the Tinseltown Travesty that is The Room.

The Room is hilariously bad enough on its own; you only need to see Tommy Wiseau crotch-punch a red dress once to know what I'm talking about.

"That's the idea!"

But add a sold out auditorium cheering him on as he does it - each spasmodic thrust of his hips into the vermilion cloth accompanied by "BAM!", "YEAH!" "TAKE IT!" - and you've got a movie-going experience quite unlike any other. I don't recommend seeing The Room at a midnight screening as your first foray into its tortuous narrative. But I whole-heartedly recommend you see this movie and then add a midnight showing to your bucket list. Ignore the sage words of Tommy Wiseau's admonition to Denny: "Don't plan too much, Denny. It might not come out right..."

Trust me, a midnight showing of The Room will definitely come out right.

Skyfall

Bond is back, baby! We all know the catchphrases, and by now we're intimately familiar with the iconic musical theme. No one is a total stranger to the illustrious 007; whether or not you've seen any of the Bond movies or spent untold hours playing GoldenEye with your friends during the tail end of the 20th century. James Bond is a cultural mainstay that has gone through numerous revisions and iterations yet still maintains the allure that has characterized the franchise since Dr. No first graced silver screens in 1962.

Skyfall, the latest installment in the Bond franchise, marks the 50th anniversary of Bond's arrival. And in short, it's a marvelous landmark in the series. Unlike the transition from Casino Royale to Quantum of Solace, Skyfall opens without any messy attachments to the title that came before and starts more or less on a blank slate. Expositional dialogue is key throughout the opening half hour or so as we're oriented to the web of events that will serve as the primary plot for the film. Taking a nod from You Only Live Twice, the movie opens on what appears to be the death of James Bond. But circumstances pull him back into the high-speed world of espionage and expensive evening-wear.

THE PROS

There is a lot to sink your teeth into with Skyfall. To begin with, the film is roughly two and a half hours long, so it's definitely one of the lengthier Bond titles in existence. This is very much by design, as the film sets a very slow but methodical pace. Essentially, the whole film is a slow reveal, taking its time to explain itself to the audience while guiding them along its story. We don't even meet the main villain (Javier Bardem) in the flesh until the movie is almost halfway over. It's not boring in the slightest, and the movie opens on another brilliantly thrilling chase scene. But action vignettes aside, Skyfall takes its time unfolding its narrative.

The movie acts as a bit of a set-up film for the Bond films of yore, and by the time all is said and done we've been introduced to several staples of the original films including Gareth Mallory (Ralph Feinnes), Q (Ben Wishaw), and even the infamous Miss Moneypenny.

One of Skyfall's real treats, though, is Javier Bardem as Raoul Silva - the primary antagonist. As I mentioned before, we don't meet Silva until much of the film's principle action is already underway. But his presence is teased throughout as his brilliance in the field of cyberterrorism manifests itself to Bond and those around him in destructive ways. Bardem's performance is so brilliant; he's the kind of sophisticated but undeniably unhinged character that almost elicits a laugh as you watch him make bemused expressions or proposition Bond with a wonton playfulness. He also hides a gruesome physical deformity that we don't get to see until even later in the film. But when he do, it's another brilliant visual cue about the nature of his character: beneath his composure and apparent grace lurks a dangerous menace.

The climactic battle sequence at the end of the film is utterly thrilling. Taking brief refuge at a homestead from his past, Bond makes a last stand against his foes on the Scottish moor; booby-trapping the estate with numerous fatal traps. But when the tell-tale sound of an assault helicopter enters the scene, we realize that this showdown is about to get even more explosive. The whole thing is just great action movie stuff, and a brilliant payoff to the whole film's methodical build.

THE CONS

There's precious little I can think of for this section in regards to Skyfall. I wanted to see more of Silva; he's an incredibly engrossing villain. But his late arrival to the film still fit well into the overall pacing, so I can't call that too big of a complaint.

THE VERDICT

Skyfall is, without a doubt, one of the best Bond films of recent memory. Daniel Craig has solidified his reputation as a bankable Bond and is one of the better actors to have worn the mantle, in my estimation. I don't know if it would be fair to say he rivals Sean Connery just yet, but another Bond film of this magnitude will move him into that bracket.

This doesn't belong in any objective praise of the film, but Skyfall is hands down my favorite title for a Bond film - perhaps of any film. It's just such a profoundly alluring word that calls to mind a kind of epic tragedy; there's a mysterious poetry to those seven letters. And Skyfall, the film, does a marvelous job of weaving the kind of mystery and allure I began to glean from the title when I saw the first trailer.

All the great Bond staples are here, and in spades. There's a visually striking opening credits sequence accompanied by Adele's theme song for the film, numerous chases, a treasure trove of expensive suits and costume pieces, explosions and gun fights, one or two steamy encounters, and just enough camp to keep the whole thing on target. Skyfall is a marvelous return to form for the Bond franchise and sets itself apart as one of the best Bond films since, perhaps, the beginning of the whole franchise.

Wreck-It Ralph

Vidya games, ladies and gentlemen! Love 'em or hate 'em, there's no denying their staying power in popular culture. And in an era of innumerable Medal of Duty: Call of Honor-type games, there's an emerging nostalgia and appreciation taking root for the 8-bit titles of yore. Simple graphics and basic gameplay haven't deterred gamers from forsaking the photorealistic worlds of many modern games, if even for a little, to dabble in the simple joys of platforming, side-scrolling video games.

It's seems that nostalgia has gone on to manifest itself on the silver screen; Wreck-It Ralph has emerged among the best animated films of this year. Following the titular character, the movie chronicles the identity crisis of Ralph (John C. Reilly) as he begins to question whether or not he wants to be "the bad guy." In an attempt to change his life, he ventures out of his own game in search of something that will endear him to the other characters in his world. In so doing, he unwittingly sets off a chain of events that will teach him and those around him what it means to be yourself.

Sheesh...when I put it like that it sounds so bland. But trust me when I say that Wreck-It Ralph is anything but bland.

THE PROS

Since Pixar came onto the scene, simultaneously revolutionizing animation and setting the bar unimaginably high for other studios, it seems that most animated features have been delegated one of two groups: Pixar movies and non-Pixar movies. Plenty of non-Pixar animated features have been wonderful; Bolt and Madagascar are the first that come to mind. But there's always been a sense that they're just not quite on par with Pixar's brilliance. That still largely remains the same, but there's a growing case against that categorization, as more and more non-Pixar animated features come closer to living up to the standards set by the previously mentioned. Wreck-It Ralph is the latest title in that case; and it's a great movie.

Its greatest strength is undoubtedly its characters and how they're realized. John C. Reilly's voice seems so perfectly matched to his character you almost forget he's the man behind the mic. As much can be said of Jack McBrayer, who voices Fix-It Felix, Jr. - the protagonist and player character of the game which serves as home to them both. Sarah Silverman voices Vanellope von Schweetz, a 9-year old in a racing game called Sugar Rush. While her voice was still recognizable, she subtly alters some of her projection and pronunciation for effect and it works beautifully. I'm not a huge Sarah Silverman fan, but this movie definitely endeared me to her more than I expected. And finally, Jane Lynch voices the battle-hardened Sergeant Calhoun, one of the lead characters in Hero's Duty - another fictional game in the world of the movie. Each character has a marvelous set of unique qualities that brought them to life in the script, and each actor behind them further fleshes out the features that make them a joy to watch. Jack McBrayer's cartoonish optimism almost marks Fix-It Felix as a kind of caricature of Kenneth Parcel, his 30 Rock character. Jane Lynch delivers each of her lines with an effected gravity and world-weariness, occasionally dishing out a ridiculous simile for effect: "A selfish man is like a mangy dog...chasing a cautionary tail..."

The animators behind Wreck-It Ralph have done more than just create characters that are fun to look at, each character very much fits into the game from which they come. For example, in the "real world" of the game, 8-bit characters still appear in the cartoony CGI that characterizes much of the film, but they move differently. For example, the tenants of the building that it's Ralph's job to wreck all move and emote the way they would if they were still rendered with 8-bit graphics: bouncing up and down in a jerking-type motion. It's almost as if they've been animated with stop-motion techniques, rather than in the "smooth" 24 frames per second way characters from other games do.

It would seem like an obvious thing to say that Wreck-It Ralph is a love-letter to video games, but there are so many references and meta-references to gaming I'm sure I didn't catch 'em all. Characters from numerous iconic titles like Mario, Sonic, Q-Bert, Street Fighter, and dozens more all make cameos throughout the film and each one is more entertaining than the last. But the movie doesn't hinge on an understanding or appreciation for video games to enjoy; the meat of the story is carried out in fictional video games that are broadly relatable to a myriad of titles.

And while not directed at Wreck-It Ralph proper, the movie opens with a short animated feature - much in the way Pixar presents their films - called Paperman. It's an absolutely lovely little piece that combines sketch animation with CGI; essentially the subjects look sketched but move in a more three-dimensional environment. But apart from looking visually stunning it's a heart-warming and humorous tale that acts a great little appetizer before Wreck-It Ralph.

THE CONS

Thankfully, nothing really comes to mind for this section. Unless you have a particularly distaste for animated features, there's not much to dislike here. Little ones might find the perilous climactic battle scene to be a bit on the scary side, but not horrifyingly so.


THE VERDICT

Wreck-It Ralph might be the best non-Pixar animated movie I've seen; it's at the very least on par with Bolt, Shrek, or the original Madagascar. Everything about the movie is satisfying: it's well written, the characters are unique and well-developed, there's an engaging story underpinning the whole affair. It's just a top notch film from every angle.

Equally as important, the movie is genuinely funny and uses a variety of comedic devices. Video game and pop culture references abound, but where they aren't accessible to non-gamers there's still plenty of generic funny to go around. There are a few sillier moments with slapstick, but even they are executed in a hysterical way.

There's so much here to like, and even more to love. Wreck-It Ralph is 100% Grade A fine film making, animated or otherwise. And as with any great animated movie, there's something for everyone. Kids will undoubtedly gobble up its wackiness and unabashed commitment to fun, and adults will find more than a measure of jokes geared to go over the kids' heads. If Disney Animation Studios keeps producing this kind of quality film-making, Pixar might wanna watch their back.

The Man With The Iron Fists

The past several years have seen a resurgent interest in grindhouse cinema. The release of the Grindhouse double feature from Quentin Tarantino and Eli Roth in 2007 is likely the best candidate for the start of this resurgence, and since then dozens of films that revel in their own "low-budgetness" have come pouring out. Hobo with a Shotgun, Machete, Drive Angry; all of these films served up hyper-stylized violence, sex, and exploitation-cinema staples in a deliciously self-deprecating way. Attempting to add itself to this list is RZA's directorial debut: The Man With the Iron Fists.

I'm not much for rap or hip-hop; it's just not something I particularly care about. With that in mind, Wu-Tang Clan was always one of the rap artists to which I gave exception. Their martial-arts themed music was consistent and engagingly written, and de facto leader RZA was an irrefutably talented multi-instrumentalist. He's no stranger to cinema, of course, and has worked with a number of critically acclaimed film makers as an actor, writer, music producer and more. But The Man With The Iron Fists is his first turn in the director's chair, so how does it stack up?

The story follows a number of characters whose lives intertwine in the fictional 19th-century Chinese township of Jungle Village. A blacksmith (RZA) forges weapons for the various warring clans around the village, taking a job but never a side. But all that changes when a shipment of gold making its way through the village brings a number of colorful characters into the tiny village including the British soldier Jack Knife (Russel Crowe), a warrior named X-Blade (Rick Yune) bent on avenging his father's death, a hulking brute of a man who can turn his body into metal (David Bautista), and a small host of battle-ready characters whose motivations are as varied as their fighting styles.

THE PROS

The Man With The Iron Fists is almost exactly what you would expect a martial arts movie from RZA to be. There are high-wire stunts of all kinds, plumes of crimson accenting over-the-top death scenes, a moderate dose of Eastern mysticism that serves to underscore the epic themes of fantasy and kung fu, and - of course - plenty of head-bobbing hip hop along the way.

The strengths of The Man With The Iron Fists are readily noticeable. The entire film is a presented with an appropriately theatrical flourish that serves to remind viewers that the majority of the movie is an exercise in homage to the martial arts films of the 70s. Dialogue is intentionally kitschy throughout, and character development takes a back seat to fight scenes. Fortunately, the characters themselves are curiously intriguing enough without the development - as most of them are defined by their weapons and paraphernalia.

The cinematography starts out a little too kinetic and frantic, leaving the first major fight scene a bit of a visual mess. But fortunately this problem rights itself rather quickly, and the rest of the combat depicted in the film flows with choreographed grace and entertaining execution. The climactic battle scene is just a delight. All the major characters converge for a big showdown in the Pink Blossom - a brothel run by Madame Blossom (Lucy Liu) and housing a small army of warrior women who contribute some fantastically choreographed moments to the film's conclusion.

As I mentioned before, hip-hop isn't exactly my cup of tea musically speaking. But its placement in the film is both appropriate and tactful. RZA took it upon himself to score the film and select tracks appropriate to the scene; much as he did with Tarantino's Kill Bill and the resulting mix between Wu-Tang beats and orchestral arrangement is a pitch perfect companion to the rest of the film's aesthetic direction.

THE CONS

RZA is a much better director than he is an actor. In a film like this - one that's wrought around how "bad" it is - acting can be tricky, no doubt. Employ too much levity, and the dialogue becomes more silly than fun; not enough levity, and a character can stand out from the rest of their cast in an annoyingly bland way. This is more or less what happens with RZA's character, who looks fairly bored most of the movie. Maybe he was aiming for gravitas...but he missed.

The script could have used a few more rewrites and polishes. RZA shared writing duties with Eli Roth on this flick, and there's no denying that it's an adequately solid script. The pacing is more or less even, the multitudinous characters don't get in each other's way, there's a solid beginning-middle-end layout; all the boxes were checked. But one or two elements needed to be expanded further while a few others could have been done away with. For example, a rather extended "backstory" scene for The Blacksmith intrudes upon the tail end of the second act. It doesn't really serve any purpose except to get Pam Grier her cameo and felt a little forced.

For all its cinema-savvy, The Man With The Iron Fists falls just short of its mark. You can see it striving to be another grindhouse movie, to be spoken in the same breath as many of Tarantino's or Roth's or Rodriguez's commercially and critically successful films. It comes admirably close, but ultimately feels like it needed a more clearly unified vision.


THE VERDICT

The Man With The Iron Fists is an admirable directorial debut. All the marks of its varying influences are visible, and there's no doubt that RZA has a diverse skillset artistically. But the movie could have greatly benefited from one or two minor rewrites; and RZA could have greatly benefited from some time in the actor's studio.

There's no one thing to blame here, it's a collection of individual parts that are all adequate on their own - but when cobbled together don't feel as strong as they wish they were. And that's not to say that the film is without its strength at all. Nearly every negative feeling I had about this movie was almost completely eradicated by one of the most satisfying martial-arts-movie climaxes I've seen. It's really a fantastic battle sequence that's not too long and not too short and tidies up all the pesky narrative loose ends. And there's plenty of kicking and punching and wire-stunts and blood squibs to satisfy anyone interested in a little grindhouse-style action.

The movie is kind of a film-companion to Wu-Tang Clan's discography - so if you're a fan of their music you'll likely find little to disparage in this title. But for me, The Man With The Iron Fists comes so close to being what it's trying to be that it's all the more disappointing to see it fall short. Here's hoping RZA's next project spends just a little bit more time tinkering on its script.

The HAARP Machine - "Disclosure"

Sumerian Records might just be my favorite label of all time - in terms of their ratio of "Bands They Have" to "Bands I Can't Stop Listening To." Even where genre differences separate the artists on their label, there seems to be a common compelling thread to the music Sumerian produces. The whole "Sumeriancore" pejorative aside, I genuinely feel like many of the artists on that label are cut from a similar cloth. It was under this impression that I jumped into The HAARP Machine's debut album with little more than a single song to indicate their direction.

What I found was a pretty even mix of pros and cons.

THE PROS

First off, my interest in this band was piqued by the single "Pleiadian Keys," which was released several weeks ago. I swiftly added that song to my Spotify rotation and even with the album securely in my hands, I can't quite get enough of that one track. It's a perfect index for what the band is like musically, though there's obviously a nice margin for variance.

As I've mentioned just about every time I come across it, I LOVE harmonic minor/melodic minor tones in my music. If it nods towards Middle Eastern sound arrangement, I'm quite likely to overlook a number of other flaws. With that in mind, it seems impossible for me to *not* like The HAARP Machine. Apart from incorporating those chord structures into their music, there's a plethora of peripheral arrangement that lends "Disclosure" a very Middle Eastern vibe. These include numerous appearances of tombak percussion, and a liberal application of the sitar. Further rounding out the "world music" vibe the album evinces is the occasional emergence of the koto.

It seems pretty fair to say that The HAARP Machine is Al Mu'min's show, as he's credited in the liner notes with "Produced by...", "Composed and Arranged by...", and "Lyrics by..." - in addition to being lead guitarist and playing both sitar and koto where it appears. For the purposes of this blog, that really endows the album with the highlights and 'lowlights' - if you will - I'll be discussing. His cultural background informs the majority of the album, both lyrically and musically.

Musically speaking, as I've mentioned before, "Disclosure" is a veritable treasure trove of Middle Eastern musical motifs. And even where it's not calling to mind the soundtrack to Prince of Persia, the album has some great hooks and grooves. The aforementioned "Pleiadian Keys" is a great example of what I'm talking about. The verses are sharp and aggressive, interplay with clean vocals and metal growls underpinning the frantic time signatures. A small pre-chorus splashes into more atmospheric orchestration, and then the chorus leaps into a soaring and triumphant anthem. The title track features a similar structure, with a more groove-oriented angle to the guitar work. Abstract percussion patterns also give "Disclosure" another level of musical complexity, and when it works the whole affair is a joy to unravel.

THE CONS

At 8 tracks and just over 30 minutes, "Disclosure" is woefully underdeveloped. It's an age-old complaint as far as this blog is concerned, but it really damages what this album could have been here. Their style is unique and well developed and I genuinely regret not having more of it to explore, especially given how most progressive metal bands practically fetishize long albums.

The biggest drawback to this album is its lyrical content though. Al Mu'min is a man of conviction, and I greatly respect him for that. But there's a difference between using your music as a platform for change and using your music as the Comments section of a political debate. To be fair, they often stick to poetic turns of phrase to communicate their message. But where they don't, it sticks out like a sore thumb. Take the opening track, "Esoteric Agenda," for example:

"There were no weapons of mass destruction/Or mobile biological weapons labs/The agenda was to remove Saddam Hussein/To reap the oil and establish a base/The Bush Administration made a series of claims prior the/ Iraq War, abuse and misuse of intelligence/There was no collusive relationship with Al Qaeda"

First things first, I actually agree with the sentiments expressed above. But there's no poetry to the construction, it's just a list of statements peppered over some intricate guitar work. Moreover by naming Hussein and Bush in the song, it prevents the song from ever reaching any semblance of timelessness or generally applicable virtue. On top of all that, they're decrying corruption carried out over 10 years ago. It doesn't make the events any less destructive, but it does remove them from relevance. Several moments like this appear on the album, and my frustration is that I agree with them for the most part. But they've made no attempt to apply their skills at musical composition to lyrical composition in these places, and it shows. It's made all the more maddening because elsewhere they evince some wonderful lyrical craftsmanship, so it's not like they're incapable of doing so. Thus the album oscillates between meticulous and sloppy in a way that damn near wrecks the entire thing.

THE VERDICT

I don't regret buying this album in the slightest. I'm glad to support this band and their label with my money because I want to see more of this kind of material produced. But I am marginally disappointed by "Disclosure" as a whole.

I really don't mind music that's politically minded, nor do I even mind listening to music evincing an agenda I don't subscribe to if the music is good. But The HAARP Machine comes off like that Facebook friend you have who posts nothing but political rants. They're entitled to their opinion, and you may agree with them completely, but before too long it grows tiresome because there's no such thing as a 'laid back' political rant. The whole point is to rage and roar and decry injustices and fume at "the other side." That's all well and good, even necessary at times. But at a certain point you just want to tell them to chill out for a bit; grab a beer, play with a puppy - whatever it takes to unwind.

The HAARP Machine is an undeniably talented band, and the music they make is compelling and fresh on many levels. But it's damaged by a message that's so relentlessly political it almost feels like the band is arguing with you even when you're agreeing with them. And refrains like "Open your eyes" and "Free your mind" emerge articulated in such a way as to feel patronizing rather than inspiring.

I still look forward to what The HAARP Machine does next, and I'll have "Disclosure" on repeat for the next few days at least. I just hope that the future holds, as the old crowd-chant goes: "less talk, more rock."

Or more specifically: "Less axe-grindage, more axe-shreddage."