Netflix Nuggets #2

I'm back with another smattering of reviews for another smattering of titles from Netflix! Some you might be familiar with, others you may have never heard of. But that's precisely what this blog is here for. Enjoy!

GRIFF THE INVISIBLE

With the sustained presence of superhero movies in theaters lately, its almost hard to imagine a time when comic book adaptations were virtually non-existent. In the 80s and early 90s, the few superhero movies that had made waves financially and critically were by far the exception rather than the rule. But with the popularity of superheroes and comic book adaptations on screen rising to prominence comes the added opportunity to explore new facets of that mythology. Enter Griff the Invisible, an Australian film about an office grunt named Griff (Ryan Kwanten) who moonlights as a masked vigilante. His life changes when he meets a girl named Melody (Maeve Dermody) who seems to share his non-conventional view of the world at large. It sounds all-too familiar at first, but the film soon makes clear that this isn't another comic book movie. Bumping up against the nature of reality itself, Griff the Invisible asks the audience to question - right along with the film - the merit of what it means to live in the "real world." The film shows us how Griff sees himself; the romantically idealized version of his costume is muscled and fitted with numerous gadgets. But when we get a glimpse of him from another character's perspective we see that his suit is - in the "real world" - an ill-fitted collection of custom fabrics and plastics one might find on the lesser end of a cosplay contest. But again, the film doesn't seem overly concerned with forcing the main character or the audience to validate one perception over the other. Instead, we're left to determine for ourselves which reality is more "real," and at the end of the whole affair I didn't feel existentially confounded or befuddled. For all its sensible ambiguity, Griff the Invisible is a surprisingly accessible commentary on life and love and the nature of reality, with a few laughs thrown in for good measure.

MELANCHOLIA

The plot of Melancholia isn't complicated. The implications of some of its themes, on the other hand, are incredibly profound. The film primarily charts the disintegrating relationship between two sisters. Justine (Kirsten Dunst) is a newlywed who clearly suffers from severe bouts of depression. Her sister Claire (Charlotte Gainbourg) is the more sensible and grounded of the two - at least at first. Chronicling Justine's wedding reception and the day after, the film delicately paints a portrait of a family decaying from within. Justine's depression is a source of tension for several of the principle family members, and the passive aggressive behaviors exchanged amongst the cast (which includes John Hurt, Kiefer Sutherland, Stellan Skarsgard, and others) are rather difficult to watch. Underpinning the tension within the family is the fact that a rogue planet is heading for Earth. Some fear it will destroy us, others believe it will pass Earth by. The film states quite early on that Earth will be destroyed by the rogue planet, aptly named Melancholia, and the rest of the film plays out as more of a character study of minds and souls in crisis. Melancholia is a beautiful film, if an incredibly depressing one. Conveying the tepid attitudes of its primary character beautifully, the film itself evinces depression and melancholy with only a measure of subtlety. The symbolism of the film isn't particularly hard to decipher, and the opening images feature a high frame rate slow motion that almost makes the images displayed appear as a painting on screen - accompanied by the overture to Wagner's Tristan und Isolde. I wouldn't recommend watching Melancholia if you're in a good mood, because it's likely to sour it a bit. But if you find yourself in a place of placidity and emotional withdrawal, you might find that Melancholia resonates brilliantly with such a mood. Regardless of how you might choose to view it, there's no denying the inherent beauty of Lars Von Trier's ponderous piece.

PEGGY SUE GOT MARRIED

Remember Back to the Future? Of course you do, because it's awesome. Well, in the wake of that movie's subsequent success another, somewhat lesser-known piece involving time travel was released: Peggy Sue Got Married. Peggy Sue (Kathleen Turner) is a divorcee whose life seems but a shadow of the dreams she held as a young girl. At her high school's 25 year reunion, she collapses inexplicably only to wake up a few decades back, once again a high school student in 1960. The film follows her as she weighs in on the relationships and choices she made growing up - wondering how she'll seize the opportunity to change her life. There's no science-y related mumbo-jumbo to go along with this time-traveler's tale, but there's a great deal of charm and laughs in Francis Ford Coppola's Peggy Sue Got Married. Nicolas Cage plays Peggy Sue's future husband/boyfriend in high school Walter, and he hilariously affects a gawky teenage posture and somewhat squeaky voice. A handful of familiar faces populate the supporting cast, including Jim Carrey as the school jokester (what else?), Kevin J. O'Connor as the brooding but poetic bad boy, and a 14-year old Sofia Coppola as Peggy's younger sister. Much like Back to the Future, the movie enjoys showcasing its retro sensibilities with a vintage soundtrack, classic cars, and classic clothing. But where it differs from Back to the Future is in its more serious tone. Peggy Sue's struggle to determine if she should continue her relationship with Walter, knowing he will be unfaithful and eventually break her heart, isn't glossed over. And the ultimate implications of her final decision aren't shied away from either. But that's tempered brilliantly by some well-placed laughs and an ultimately uplifting ending. And while this certainly isn't one of Cage's more insane performances, it is still on the list of what makes Cage such a curiously compelling actor to watch. Peggy Sue Got Married isn't quite on par with its "sister film" Back to the Future - though they both share undeniable similarities. But for what it's worth, Peggy Sue is still a delightfully nostalgic jaunt back to two eras: 80s movie-making and early 60s vintage Americana.

PRIMAL FEAR

Every now and again a movie will steal a fantastic title that doesn't really represent what the movie is about. Primal Fear, though an engaging thriller, is just such a film. While the title (and even poster) might give you the impression that this movie is some kind of supernatural and atmospheric horror flick, it is instead a court room drama. Martin Vail (Richard Gere) is the kind of lawyer that lawyer jokes are made about. His moral compass is pretty obviously broken, as a handful of expositional conversations expose him as a lawyer famous for "putting the victims on trial" and getting well-funded clients off on technicalities. But when an altar boy named Aaron Stampler (Edward Norton) is accused of murdering an archbishop, with a near-overwhelming pile of circumstantial evidence implicating him, Vail decides to take the case pro-bono because he genuinely believes in Stampler's innocence.
I love courtroom drama films. I'm not sure what exactly it is about this cinematic subgenre that rarely fails to engross me but I was drawn to this film on those merits alone. Fortunately there's a good deal more to it than the usual examination/cross-examination antics that populate these films; including one of the best performances of Edward Norton's career. Laura Linney also works in a solid performance as the prosecuting attorney and a former lover of Martin Vail's, further complicating interpersonal relations within the film. Primal Fear isn't likely to keep you on the edge of your seat, it's not the kind of harrowing thriller that involves chase scenes or noir lighting techniques. But its well paced and makes its way around a few surprising twists during its run time, resulting in a solid entry in the courtroom drama/thriller subgenre.

LES EMOTIFS ANONYMES (ROMANTICS ANONYMOUS)

Looking for a heartwarming, feel-good romantic comedy from France? Something with which to follow up Amelie perhaps? Look no further than Romantics Anonymous, a quirky little piece that follows the budding romance between a shy but talented chocolatier named Angelique(Isabelle Carre) and her equally shy boss Jean-Rene Van Den Hugde (Benoit Poelvoorde). I almost didn't want to use the word "quirky" in the previous sentence, because that word has so indelibly become linked with a very specific kind of awkward indie comedy, or just with Zooey Deschanel. But here, there's an irresistible sincerity to the film's quirkiness that transcends Hollywood tropes. It's not just because the film is French; the principle characters are both undeniably charming. While their awkward romance encounters numerous pitfalls along the way, some profoundly wince-inducing, the movie never resorts to gags or gimmicks to get its laughs. Instead, memories of our own romantic misadventures are called to mind with a wistful nostalgia. Throughout the film, the French version of "I Have Confidence" from The Sound of Music permeates the soundtrack and in one brilliant moment, that scene is reconstructed shot-for-shot with Angelique. After watching this delightful little film I did some reading up and found that the Romantics Anonymous meetings that the principle characters attend is an actual organization that the two leads often frequent. That doesn't come as a bit of a surprise given how genuine their performances are and further adds another layer sincerity to an already disarmingly honest film. Feel-good foreign cinema really doesn't get much better than this, folks.

SCENT OF A WOMAN

Martin Brest is known for a few things. The first one has to be that he was a favorite of bullies and name-callers growing up for his familial surname. The second is that his last film - thus far - was unforgivably bad. It starred Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez and if you don't recognize it from that clue then thank your lucky stars. The third is that before he torpedoed his career he made two romantic dramas that shared three things in common: 1) They were pretty good. 2) They were both scored, beautifully, by Thomas Newman. 3) They were both over 2-and-a-half hours long. One was Meet Joe Black, the other was Scent of a Woman. For some reason these two films almost feel like companion titles to me though they share little in common, and incidentally Meet Joe Black is on Netflix as well at the moment. But getting back to the task at hand, Scent of a Woman follows a young man named Charlie Simms (Chris O'Donnell with an undeniably 90s haircut) who takes a weekend job working as a companion to a blind and foul-tempered retired Army Lt. Col. named Frank Slade, played by Al Pacino. Frank is gruff and standoffish and generally the kind of curmudgeon needed as a foil to Charlie's youthful optimism. But over the course of the weekend Charlie begins to understand Frank and his seemingly unforgiving ways, and in turn Frank develops a subtle appreciation for his youthful companion. It's not a wholly unfamiliar plot by any stretch of the imagination and Brest plays all the expected notes emotionally. But there are some great quotes from Pacino and one or two tear-jerker moments that elevate this movie above the kind of tropes that seem fit for a 'heavy episode' in a conventional TV sitcom. A much  younger Philip Seymour Hoffman also makes an appearance as one of Charlie's prep school classmates. The film wraps up with Pacino giving a rousing and profoundly stirring speech about the nature of character and integrity to Charlie's prep school and while, again, the cliche is worn out and tired as ever - I still couldn't resist the swelling of the orchestra and the force of Pacino's voice. It wobbles on the border of kitschy at times, but for all of that it's still a wonderfully uplifting piece that - at 157 minutes - unfolds slowly, but surely.


STRICTLY BALLROOM

Here be the first of Baz Luhrmann's famous "Red Curtain Trilogy," so named not because they share a common narrative but because each film (Strictly Ballroom, Romeo+Juliet, and Moulin Rouge!) each open with the raising of a red curtain. Strictly Ballroom opens on a faux-documentary style vignette into the world of competitive ballroom dancing. A collection of talking head interviews relates the story of how talented hoofer Scott Hastings (Paul Mercurio) began performing his own flashy dance moves during a competition, costing him and his partner Liz Holt (Gia Carides) the victory. The movie then reverts back into a typical narrative style, albeit with Baz's signature low angle closeups and Bollywood-like cinematic choreography. Scott is soon approached by another aspiring dancer named Fran (Tara Morice) who convinces him to teach her "his way" of dancing so that they can compete in the Pan-Pacific competition together - only weeks away. What follows is an enjoyable, if predictable, romantically comedic romp through the world of competitive dancing, learning to follow your heart, Cyndi Lauper's "Time after Time", and a host of charmingly lampooned 'ugly duckling' and 'Cinderella' stereotypes. Baz's directorial debut showcases an already insightful cinematic perspective, and numerous moments in the film play out like practice for techniques and choreography he would later exploit in Moulin Rouge! This 1992 romantic comedy isn't nearly as frenetic or ultimately intense as 2001's Moulin Rouge!, but his signature style is very much apparent in nearly every frame. Being a fan of Luhrmann's work, this was a huge plus for me and suited the production design of the film itself marvelously. I don't know much about dancing at all, but this is the kind of film that transcends personal experience with its subject matter to be enjoyable and heartwarming regardless. Any fan of Luhrmann, romantic comedies, or dancing in general would be well served to add this to their "Must See" list.


That concludes Netflix Nuggets #2! Stay tuned for a soon-to-come special entry in the Netflix Nuggets series: TV Edition.

The Dark Knight Rises

You know what's a great feeling? Walking into a movie knowing you're going to be coming out of the theater with a new favorite on your list. Such were my feelings walking into The Dark Knight Rises. I'd been pumped about this film ever since the credits rolled in 2008 on The Dark Knight. I didn't see how the conclusion to this stunning trilogy could possibly be a letdown and consequently let my expectations soar unimaginably and almost unattainably high; just to see if Nolan could do it again.

And Holy Toledo, did he.

The film opens on a Gotham that's largely recovered from the municipal carnage that took place in Batman Begins and The Dark Knight. It's 8 years later, and both of Bruce Wayne's alter egos have gone into seclusion. But as the trailers are so fond of reminding us with that oft-used sound bite, "There's a storm coming Mr. Wayne."

WARNING: SPOILERS

THE PROS:

Christopher Nolan is without peer, as a director. Go look at his Rotten Tomatoes page. His lowest credit is in the mid 70s; everything else he's touched as director, producer, what have you has been box office gold and critically hailed; even his first major short film Following recouped its modest budget to the tune of almost 8 times over. The man is a modern Midas and it's little wonder. He is a master craftsman when it comes to the art and discipline of film making and The Dark Knight Rises is just more proof on top of existing fact. The film opens much in the way The Dark Knight does, introducing just a blueprint of the plot and the main villain. From there, it's a solid 20 to 30 minutes before the action even really gets going again, yet it doesn't drag in the slightest. Nolan builds an unnerving sense of placidity, a true calm before the storm, that brilliantly reflects Gotham City's placement in the scheme of events. Even in the lighter passages of the opening moments of the film, there's an undeniable presence of growing menace; the only way it could be more palpable is if there were big block letters across the screen flashing "THINGS ARE ABOUT TO GET MUCH WORSE." And of course they do, in a brilliantly satisfying way.

All the regulars are here: Christian Bale as the titular character, Michael Caine as his trusty butler, Morgan Freeman as his 'gadget guy' Lucius Fox, and of course the inimitable Gary Oldman as Commissioner Gordon. Rounding out the cast is a set of newcomers that brilliantly add more depth to a familiar world. Anne Hathaway is Selina Kyle, who most will recognize as Catwoman. Her portrayal as the sly but secretly vulnerable anti-heroine is spot on. She coos most of her dialogue in a seductive cadence, and occasionally offers out a vaguely campy line for effect. Joseph Gordon-Levitt is John Blake, a straight shooting if haunted cop with a past that mirrors Wayne's own. Marion Cotillard plays Miranda Tate, a Wayne Enterprises board member with a bit of a thing for Bruce. And, of course, the mountain-of-a-man Tom Hardy is the arch-villain Bane. Hardy is a marvelous actor, with The Dark Knight Rises being further evidence of his talent. With nearly his entire face obscured by his mask, he still manages to convey subtlety and precision. And he does so without the use of wild gesticulations; his voice aside, it's all in his eyes, his stance, and occasionally a stray gesture or two.

Nolan's selection in casting further reflects his abilities as a director. As the film plays out, the cast of characters ends up getting separated and reunited in various ways. And with so many characters to keep track of, it could have been very easy to lose track of who's where and why's what when and with whom and all that jazz. But each characterization is so genuine and committed, and likewise Nolan's direction is so measured and precise, not a moment of screen time is wasted and not a jot of the plot is lost in the action.

And speaking of action, The Dark Knight Rises brilliantly pays off in this department as well. The fight scenes here are just brutal. They're not gory or bloody or anything like that, but there's an element of pure brawl that goes into the conflict of this film. Much of that is due to Bane's nature as a kind of human wall capable of dishing out so much pure punchy pain you almost admire him. During Bane's first fight with our hero, he does what so many fanboys have suspected he would; he breaks the bat. Crushing Batman's helmet, he then holds him high over his head (just like in the comic), and brings him down on his knee; breaking his spine. It's tough to watch, but the scene is so expertly crafted. There's no score involved, just the sound of a waterfall echoing in the subterranean cavern and the crunch of fist and flesh on bone and Bane and Batman. It's profoundly visceral.

As with any franchise, each time the audience returns to the story there has to be something new. In most ways it has to be bigger - so Hollywood logic goes - and of course this presents the problem of running out of steam and being left to toss gimmicks at the audience to keep them interested. So with Batman Begins chronicling the caped crusader's fight against the League of Shadows/Scarecrow and his horror-movie nerve gas, and The Dark Knight offering one of the most iconic villains in the Joker and some absolutely jaw-dropping chase sequences, the only logical way to top that would be to...I don't know...stage a war in Gotham's streets, right? That's exactly what happens, and by the beef on Tom Hardy's body it's awesome. In the film's climactic final act, the citizens and mercenaries rallied to Bane's side and the cops of Gotham literally charge down the street at each other; medieval style! And in the midst of the chaos, Batman and Bane carry out their own War of the Punches.

Hans Zimmer's score is back in force, as always, to remind us that apparently no one does heroic symphonic music better than he can. All the familiar motifs from the previous films reappear in The Dark Knight Rises, in addition to some new ones. This one is a bit more percussion oriented than the previous two, but that too goes right along with the overall feeling of deep impact film making employed here.

THE CONS

In the first five minutes of the movie, Bane's voice sounds completely ridiculous; like a 13 year old whose voice keeps cracking while muffled under his hand. During these opening moments, I feared that the entire operation might be derailed by this, but either I got completely used to it or they somehow managed to change the resonance the next time the character appears on screen. A close call, but one that had me thoroughly distraught for about 5 to 10 minutes.

Nolan has largely managed to keep his films free of self-referential camp, and that's a good thing. With that in mind, there were one or two lines of dialogue that felt like necessary evils. At one point Bane says "You came back to die with your city." To which Batman growls. "No. I came back to stop you." THEY FIGHT. It teeters on the brink of all-too-familiar "comic book trash talk" like that once or twice. Not wholly enough to discredit the entire operation, but just enough for me to roll my eyes a few times. There are a couple of cliches in the affair that I could have done without.

Another Bane-related minor gripe is that his voice mixes strangely with the rest of the film. Almost as if he's doing a live ADR voice-over of his lines. This is likely due to fans who claimed his dialogue was indecipherable in the trailers. I didn't have a problem understanding him in the trailer, didn't have a problem understanding him in the film, though a few critics are still bemoaning that point. So it seems that in an attempt to reach out to fans, the sound mixing on The Dark Knight Rises was hastily reconstructed in the weeks leading up to release. It's strangely overpowering; as if his voice is coming from the speakers themselves rather than the film. But it didn't bother me for very long, and I still blame texting teens for the "Bane's voice is hard to understand" campaign.

THE VERDICT

Everything I hoped it would be and more, really. Nolan has taken his time with this franchise and it's paid off handsomely. I remember going with my parents to see Batman Begins in 2005 and thinking that this was like a new kind of superhero movie; stunningly realistic and genuine, but still full of big budget visual effects and spectacle. And over the course of almost 8 years and 3 films, Nolan has managed to maintain that unique sense of direction for the entire franchise. The movie's themselves are long - this latest one clocking in at almost three hours. Yet not a moment of screen time feels like filler or padding; everything on screen serves to move the story forward with a measure of precise pacing you could set your watch by.

The hype surrounding this film is well-deserved, and while there will undoubtedly be detractors (there always are) my hope is that The Dark Knight Rises will go on to set and break box office records because it's the kind of film that deserves that kind of critical and financial recognition. The performances are dead on, the visual effects are thrilling, the action sequences full of adrenaline and emotion, and the few twists along the way are as satisfying as vintage M. Night Shyamalan.

I'd like to say that a part of me regrets that the trilogy is completed; that I'm sad to leave it behind. But I'm surprised to say that I'm not. Nolan has expertly crafted a specific set of films that follow a logic and narrative so uniquely their own that here, at the conclusion, we're treated to a satisfying sense of closure rather than a post-credits promise of bigger and bolder things to come. The tagline for the film, "The legend ends," is perfect in every sense. It communicates exactly what the film's ultimate aim is and it implies that we will feel happy to reach the conclusion, rather than regretful. The legend has ended, and it was a glorious end; one truly worthy of the reputation constructed over the course of the two films leading up to it.

Cheers, Mr. Nolan. My hat is off to you.

Netflix Nuggets #1

I'm debuting another "special entry" series for this blog: Netflix Nuggets! Much like the Redbox Report, I'll collect a handful of reviews in a single blog post. The difference is, as you probably guessed, the titles in question will be available through Netflix Instant Watch. But rather than pick up the bigger and better known movies available through the most productive time-wasting service ever invented, I'll be cycling through movies that you may have never heard of, or hadn't heard much about. So the next time you're cruising through their library looking for something new to try out, check back with the blog and see if I can't shed a little light on a random title for ya. So without further ado, here is Netflix Nuggets #1


SUBMARINE

Normally, I don't go for quirky indie comedies; I feel like the whole genre is played out. I kinda felt that way when Juno came out, and it was basically the first big one. I don't hate them, I'm completely engulfed by a sense of 'meh' about most of them. So I was hesitant to give Submarine a go because everything about it - from the poster, to the trailer, to the opening moments - made me dread that I had just subjected myself to yet another exercise in breaking the fourth wall with snarky narration and gazing - catatonic - into the camera as a series of meaningless syllables sputter out. And "Submarine" is chock full of those things, as it happens. But the film somehow still manages to work in this undeniable sense of charm and humor that overcame my initial misgivings. The film follows protagonist Oliver Tate, who is precisely the kind of indie-film cliche that puts me off of this genre. But his cliche is played up to such a melodramatic height it's funny, rather than just tiresome. Early on in the film he mentions how he daydreams about what would happen after his death; how the world would react. The film cuts to a series of news snippets as school mates bemoan his passing, news reporters tear up as they report the catastrophic loss, mourners form candle-lit vigils in his honor; and the whole bloody affair is so over-the-top and ridiculous I couldn't help but laugh. Partly because I've daydreamed about that exact thing (I think most of us have) and can therefore relate, if somewhat sheepishly. And partly because Oliver is so unabashed in his melodramatic self-absorption it's almost impossible not to laugh. And a handful of the dialogue is just so absurd or hyperbolic, again the effect is truly laughable. Lines like "Now that we had kissed for non blackmail purposes, I thought it gentlemanly to escort Jordana home" are a great example of what I mean. The movie is a typical coming-of-age, indie-weird boy meets indie-weird girl, type of outing. But somehow it's charming and sincere enough to exceed its own cliches; and in many cases use them in a brilliantly self-deprecating way.


ROYAL DECEIT

Here's a credit you'll want to sit through either to beef up your resume of obscure films you've seen, or just because it's got a great cast. The story follows the original Jutish tale upon which Shakespeare's Hamlet is based. Young prince Amled is visited by his father's recently departed ghost to discover that his uncle is his father's true murderer. Amled vows revenge, and the tale is largely one familiar to anyone vaguely acquainted with Shakespeare's famous play. What's not great about the movie are the costumes and sets; here minimalist to a fault. The movie largely looks like a play that has been filmed, with none of the sets really evoking much implied design work or artistry. The same can be said of the costumes, which are largely just cobbled together pieces of mute-color cloth. Being set in a pre-medieval Jutland (Denmark), that may have been intentional. But it feels more like a convenient coincidence. Where it shines is in its casting decisions, which bring together a sizeable chunk of names and faces you're bound to recognize. Christian Bale plays the tortured Amled, Gabriel Byrne his deceitful uncle, Tom Wilkinson his deceased father, Helen Mirren his deceived mother, Brian Cox an ally from across the sea, Mark Williams and Andy Serkis as the Rosencrantz and Guildenstern characters of this tale, Kate Beckinsale as a less-insane iteration of Ophelia...the list goes on. It's just a treat to see all these actors together on screen, and largely atones for the pretty dreadful production value - which includes B-roll shot at a completely different frame rate than the rest of the film and a soundtrack that occasionally sounds as though it's from a completely different movie. But, as I said, this is one you'll likely not find on any shelf available for purchase - so if you're in need of a film credit to one-up another film buff with, this is your golden ticket.


COLD COMFORT FARM

Here be a British version of Polyanna or Anne of Green Gables, and like those titles also based on a novel of the same name. The plot is fairly simple: a young city girl with big dreams named Flora Poste moves in with her extended family out in the countryside and in so doing brings light and life to their miserable existence through her free-spirited ways. The girl in question is played by a younger and freckled-nosed Kate Beckinsale, but her precocious charm is undeniable. Like Royal Deceit, this film also boasts a marvelous collection of casting decisions. Rufus Sewell is the randy cousin Seth, who secretly harbors a love of the cinema that seems incompatible with his rural ways. Ian McKellen is Amos, the patriarch of the family. A fire-and-brimstone preacher and founder of the Quivering Brethren (a fictional and damnation-obsessed church domination), Amos is an extreme caricature of the Biblically-minded moralist and hams it up on screen appropriately. Freddie Jones portrays an aging farm-hand who works on Cold Comfort Farm and never refers to Flora by her name, but rather by her proxy relationship to the family as "Robert Poste's child." It's an unassuming little piece of cinematic fluff, which never asserts itself as more than the kind of feel-good outing you might catch during a Sunday afternoon on the couch. But it's got charm and sincerity to spare, and a handful of moments that are just a delight to watch. On one such occasion, Stephen Fry (who plays a local writer by the name of Mybug) openly propositions young Flora in a cafe, much to the chagrine of the patrons within earshot. At that very moment Amos enters the little tea room and in one of the worst cases of conversation timing hears Fry utter "I am referring to SEX!" Of course being the Bible-thumper he is, Amos summarily whisks Flora away by the hook of his umbrella. It's not the funniest moment of all time, but just to see that situation played out with such iconic actors as McKellen, Fry, and Beckinsale in their respective roles was a real treat. Cold Comfort Farm isn't the kind of film that will change your life, but it's a great little hour and forty-five minute into the charming and free-spirited world of a charming, free-spirited girl.


IRONCLAD

Epic historical films like Braveheart or Gladiator are one in a million. Plenty of loosely-based-on-fact historical epics have come and gone, but their grandeur and quality is usually harvested from a stock of lesser quality. That's not to say movies like King Arthur, Troy, or The 13th Warrior are without merit by any stretch; those are all enjoyable films in my estimation. They're just not as iconic and hallowed as the first two I mentioned, and as much can be said for a more recent epic period film: Ironclad. Following the story of the siege of Rochester Castle at the hands of King John in the early 1200s, the movie plays out like a kind of medieval Seven Samurai. James Purefoy plays Marshall, a principled Knight Templar who finds himself in charge of a small garrison committed to defending the castle from King John's (Paul Giamatti) onslaught. If you're a student of history, you will note several historical inaccuracies - but we've come to expect as much from period films these days. To its credit, the film has some great battle sequences that are both thrilling and visceral. Ironclad is definitely a good deal bloodier and gorier than Braveheart or Gladiator. Purefoy is confident and cool and carries the film well, as does his cast of supporting characters which includes Brian Cox, Derek Jacobi, and Kate Mara - to name the more recognizable. Again, Ironclad is a movie that tries to be more than it is on its own. But for what it's worth, it's a great siege tale filled with swords and arrows and trebuchets and moments like Brian Cox roaring "NO SURRENDER!" to an equally enraged Paul Giamatti. It doesn't swell with pride like Braveheart or seethe with righteous indignation like Gladiator; but it battles it up for most of its 2-hours-and-change run time and acts as a nice holdover until the next great historical epic sweeps the Oscars.


AGORA

Do you know who Hypatia of Alexandria was? I didn't until I saw this movie, and I'm surprised that there isn't more attention paid to her in history books. Almost none of her writings have survived history, but enough from other scholars survives about her to make a very compelling case for her genius. Agora follows Hypatia through the late 3rd century and early 4th century in Egypt during a time when Christianity was just beginning to take root amongst the people of the region. Against the backdrop of political upheaval, the film chronicles - with a decent amount of historical license - the lives and times of both Hypatia and some of her students, who included such historical figures as Orestes - Roman governor of Egypt in the early 4th century - and Synesius, who would eventually become a bishop of the fledgling Eastern Orthodox Church. The movie is something of a sword-and-sandal epic, but with a lot more sandal than sword. While there is some violence and action, the heart of the film is devoted to exploring the philosophical questions of the time - and how they relate to our modern era. Rachel Weisz plays Hypatia with the grace and dignity she naturally evinces; Oscar Isaac and Rupert Everett (Orestes and Synesius, respectively)  grow on screen from school boys to important leaders convincingly. Max Minghella further rounds out the cast as Davus, a slave who struggles with his own beliefs as the Christian and pagan factions vie for political and social control in the area. The overall message of the film emphasizes objectivity and respect for both scientific knowledge and faith, and for the most part walks the line between the two well. The majority of the film's villains end up appearing in the camp of the emerging Christian faith, which I found a little disappointing considering how well a balance was struck early on in the film. Having said that, for the most part Agora presents the viewer with the historical facts such as they are and lets the the audience decide where virtue remains. And for a film about ancient Egypt, it spends a great deal of time in space - either zooming in or out of Earth or exploring the cosmos whilst voice-over and score accent the imagery. It's not entirely abstract, but it's more cerebral a piece than I'm accustomed to seeing in a "toga movie." But it's incredibly educational, despite its historical license, and a fine film in its own right, too.


THE TRIP

What would it be like if Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon took a tour of the restaurants in Northern England, portraying somewhat fictionalized versions of themselves? A six-part BBC2 sitcom called The Trip sought to answer that strangely specific question. From that series, a film was edited together similarly titled The Trip and is, as you can surmise, currently available through Netflix. The film features mostly improvised dialogue, and said dialogue is largely composed of Coogan and Brydon (who are both known for their impersonation capabilities) trading impressions of various celebrities like Michael Caine, Sean Connery, and Hugh Grant. There's some rather reflective material courtesy of the contrast between the two character's lives. Coogan is estranged from his family and despite his success, is clearly nursing some emotional wounds. Whereas Brydon is not nearly as renown as Coogan, he has a great relationship with his wife and child and it's evident that Coogan envies him that somewhat. But the drama of the film doesn't work nearly as well as the comedy. It's not a laugh-a-minute type of affair, but watching Coogan and Brydon - two grown men - argue back and forth with each other about whose Michael Caine impression is more true-to-life had me in stitches. It's a fairly long movie considering that's really all it is, Coogan and Brydon making fun of each other and cracking snarky British quips. But I got enough of a laugh out of the whole thing to feel like my time was well spent. If you're not big on quirky British humor, you probably won't find much to like here. And even if you are, The Trip is certainly not cut from the same cloth as something like In the Loop. But if you like Coogan and/or Brydon's brand of comedy you'll probably enjoy this little restaurant-romp.


WORLD'S GREATEST DAD

Occasionally I have such an intense bout of 'cynic-brain' (I'm still working with the surgeon general to get this medically recognized) that just about the only thing I can laugh at is absurdly dark humor. I was in such a funk when I stumbled across World's Greatest Dad; a film whose trailer completely misrepresents it. If you want a nice shocker of a black comedy and don't want to have its big shocking plot point spoiled, skip ahead to the next entry because I can't quite describe this film without giving it away. Robin Williams plays Lance Clayton, an aspiring writer whose only published works appear in greeting cards; and whose unpublished materials comprise page upon page of rejected fiction. In addition to his failures as a writer, Lance's son Kyle (Daryl Sabara) hates him. Why? Mainly because Kyle is just an awful kid, and that would be putting it lightly. Things take a turn for the "Holy crap, did this just happen?" when Kyle accidentally perishes attempting autoerotic asphyxiation. In a last ditch attempt to make amends for his broken relationship, Lance pens a fake suicide note and frames his son's death accordingly. Things then take a turn for the downright unholy when people begin asking Lance for more of Kyle's writings, and Lance obliges. Overnight, he becomes a literary sensation and the movie proceeds to toss any notion of sacred out the window. As I mentioned before, I encountered this movie whilst in a rather pessimistic frame of mind, and consequently enjoyed it thoroughly. If black comedies like Fargo or Death to Smoochy aren't your thing, World's Greatest Dad certainly won't be either. But if you appreciate the kind of movie that doesn't take anything seriously and approaches the world from the standpoint of "Life sucks, and so does everyone in it" - you might find this to be just what the doctor ordered.


MY DATE WITH DREW

Documentaries can be a real hit or miss, especially when it comes to a topic that's just not particularly interesting. Topics like...one guy's big crush on Drew Barrymore. My Date With Drew follows Brian Herzlinger, a twenty-something year old living in Los Angeles on a 30-day quest to snag a date from his celebrity crush, the aforementioned Lady Drew, of House Barrymore. It sounds pretty smarmy, to say the least. And Brian isn't a suave screen personality either; he's your average Joe. So for the first 30 minutes or so of the movie, the whole affair feels rather contrived...as though you're watching some stranger's home videos. But as the movie goes on, it picks up an undeniable momentum and before I knew it I was cheering him on with all I had. It's a dream many of us can relate to: wanting to spend a few fleeting moments one on one with our favorite celebrity. Unfortunately it's also a dream many stalkers share, so going into this movie I wondered if Brian would come off as a stalker and make the whole thing feel more creepy than anything else. But fortunately I can say with confidence there's nothing creepy about Brian's manner or approach. And I won't tell you how the movie ends because it's a great watch; definitely leaves you with a warm fuzzy once all is said and done. So while it's technically a documentary, it feels more like you're part of this fun and crazy adventure in someone else's life and dammit if it's not actually inspiring.


That concludes this round of Netflix Nuggets, thanks for tuning in!

The Amazing Spider Man

Let's go ahead and get the obvious out of the way: it's a little early for a Spider Man reboot. It's only been 10 years since Tobey Maguire first swung into action with a Nickelback-featuring-Josey-Scott theme song to help with marketing, and that movie was actually pretty good. The second film in director Sam Raimi's Spider Man trilogy was even better. And then the third movie happened, apparently. I'm legally obligated to acknowledge its existence but I really don't want to. So when I heard that The Amazing Spider Man was in the works I was admittedly unmoved; it felt like too much too soon. But a few friends recommended I see it, despite my misgivings.

The plot veers almost too close to our previous outings, as we open on a series of vignettes establishing Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) as the school's nerdy loner kid. From there it's more predictable leaps from encounter with love interest Gwen Stacy (Emma Stone), to introduction of pseudo-mentor figure who will become the villain (Rhys Ifans), to Parker getting bitten by the infamous spider that derails his rather ho-hum existence. And I won't lie to you, the rest of the film unfolds about as predictably as you might imagine. But despite its cliche and apparently lack of a need to exist, The Amazing Spider Man actually...well, amazes.

THE PROS

First off, the characterizations in this adaptation are much stronger than I anticipated - and much stronger than those of Sam Raimi's adaptation. For one, Garfield is much more convincing as the skinny nerd than Tobey Maguire. Tobey came off as kinda goofy and hopelessly lovelorn, where his successor naturally evinces a more reserved but still awkward vibe. There's also an almost imperceptible bitterness about Garfield's portrayal, which stems from Parker's parents leaving him at a very early age without any explanation. Rhys Ifans is the stereotypical aloof scientist, a part he plays with visible ease. His subtle transformation into the Lizard is quite convincing, and tactfully subtle for a film about spider bites that lead to acrobatics. Then there's good ol' Emma Stone, who is always a joy to watch. Long-time webcrawler fans will note that Gwen Stacy was technically Parker's 'first love' from a chronological standpoint.

Which brings me to my next point: The Amazing Spider Man is truer to the original source material than Sam Raimi's trilogy. There's the aforementioned Gwen Stacy aspect, as well as the fact that Spidey's original iconic webshooters weren't part of his mutation, but rather came from wrist-mounted devices he engineered specifically for the task. The costume design also calls to mind the original designs a little more accurately than Sam Raimi's as well.

The cinematography is also worth noting, specifically during the action sequences. Rather than a hundred quick cuts back and forth with a shaky-cam for effect, the camera moves almost like Spider Man himself; weaving in and out of the chaos fluidly and precisely. Thus a single shot might last a comparably long time for an action sequence, but the camera is so smoothly kinetic that the effect is much more enjoyable. Moreover, such an approach mirrors Spider Man's movements as well so the audience feels as if they are right in on the action. And the visual effects accompanying the action sequences are spectacular. I did a little reading up and confirmed my suspicions that there's a lot more live action stunt work than I initially expected. That definitely looks like what's going on, and I was further impressed at how well the CGI and live-action elements blended in the finished product.

THE CONS

I'm a nerd in the negative sense of the term about a few things. By that I mean I get all flustered and bent out of shape over things that the average person doesn't even notice, let alone care about. Movie soundtracks are such a topic for me, and the soundtrack to The Amazing Spider Man would have been great...if it hadn't been ripped straight from the repertoire of the composer himself. There were a few times during the film I thought "That sounds like such-n-such track from A Beautiful Mind. I sincerely hope James Horner isn't ripping himself off again..." But alas, James Horner (who scored The Amazing Spider Man and A Beautiful Mind...and Titanic, and Braveheart, and Land Before Time...and a bunch of other movies it's ok to be a guy and cry during) was indeed ripping himself off again. So when I saw his name in the credits, my heart plummeted. I'm a huge fan of the man's music, but I've noticed he tends to lift motifs and passages directly from his other scores quite often. If you think I'm overreacting or just want to see how red in the face I can get about this, feel free to message me and I'd be happy to show you song by song what I'm talking about. I gots the proof.

Now as I said, I love Emma Stone - but she makes the least compelling blonde I've ever seen. (NOTE: See comments section for correction) I know Gwen Stacy is the blonde, and Mary Jane is the redhead. I get it, I understand why Emma's hair color was altered for the film. But it just looks...wrong. Almost like a cheesy special effect that you can't suspend disbelief over. But somehow redheads keep getting cast as Gwen Stacy (looking at you, Bryce Dallas Howard) and the makeup department has to pick up the slack. Minor annoyance, but one I just couldn't get over.

THE VERDICT

The Amazing Spider Man had a lot to make up for on my end personally. I didn't think it needed to exist given that Spider Man was only ten years old. I don't particularly care for Andrew Garfield, and I knew from the trailers that the whole Emma Stone-as-a-blonde thing would bug me; pun totally intended. But despite all of that, The Amazing Spider Man managed to be quite an enjoyable outing. It's the kind of superhero movie that doesn't really dawdle in exposition; it assumes you're familiar enough with the material to not hold your hand. I liked that approach - too much exposition would have weighed down what already was rather burdened by over-familiarity.

Growing up, Lizard was always one of my favorite Spider Man villains too, and I was glad to see him get screen time worthy of his reputation in my memory. Plus, this one has my favorite Stan Lee cameos of the Marvel films thus far; right in front of him getting mistaken for Hugh Hefner then Larry King in Iron Man and Iron Man 2, respectively.

And now that I've seen it, I understand why Marvel has decided to reboot the franchise this early. With the Avengers movies that have been steadily hitting movie theaters for the past 4 years or so, Marvel Studios has really hit a stride with their own cinematic style. In a sense, they're rebuilding their brand with these films; but that shift came a few years after Sam Raimi's adaptations and consequently those films don't fit in as neatly with the others. The Amazing Spider Man definitely works as a better tie-in to other Marvel movies - specifically the unconfirmed rumors of Spider Man's potential rendezvous with the Avengers in the near future. So while it felt like a bit of an unnecessary exercise at first, when seeing the forest for the trees it not only makes sense, but it actually works. With that in mind, it's much easier to see Raimi's body of work as totally separate from the other Marvel pieces currently in circulation and gives The Amazing Spider Man sufficient justification to both exist, and be as awesome as it turns out to be.

Periphery - "Periphery II: This Time It's Personal"

In a previous post, I touched on the whole "djent" debate. I don't really care what Randy Blythe said (though I love his band), I think djent is a legitimate genre because I like genre labels. Your thoughts on the genre aside, if you've heard *anything* about the djent discussion, you've probably heard Periphery mentioned. Periphery is the band that everyone loves to hate, in my estimation. They have a solid fanbase - one I'm a proud part of - but for some reason most of the keyboard warriors of the internet love to rip on Periphery.

Is it because they lack musicianship? Hardly. Guitarists Misha Mansoor and Jake Bowen are among the best on the scene right now, to say nothing of newly-added talent Mark Holcomb and "Nolly" Netgood. Likewise Matt Halpern is as precise and skilled a drummer as you'd be likely to find, and lead vocalist Spencer Sotelo has an incredible range.

Is it perhaps because they're not "heavy" enough? Maybe. But that's a pretty subjective position to take; especially considering there's plenty of musical ferocity in their repertoire and, more importantly, they've never made any bones about being inclined towards more melodic progressive metal in the first place.

Why all the Periphery hate, then? Check out the answer for "How many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie-roll center of a Tootsie pop?" But Periphery as a band is well-aware of the fact that they have as many haters as fans, and with "Periphery II: This Time It's Personal" they proudly continue their tradition of searching their pockets, unable to find a rats-ass to give.

THE PROS

Like I said, I'm personally a huge fan. Their self-titled debut album is among the most listened-to items in my iTunes library. When I start listening to "Periphery", I can't abide one listen-through. I have to go over and over it over the course of several days and weeks because it's just so metalicious to me. And (spoiler alert), "Periphery II" is well on its way to getting the same treatment.

If you're a fan of Periphery, I can tell you that this album is just another round of what you've come to love in varying doses. There's a beautiful mix of intense chugging and polymetric djent-y riffs. The spaced out M83-like interludes and outros are still here, as spaced out and M83-like as ever before. It's aggressive and ferocious in places, melodic and laid back in others, aggressive and melodic in others...they rounded up the usual suspects.

Where they've improved on their formula is most notably in Spencer's vocal capabilities. Spencer's voice was famously described in a humorous spoken-word interlude on their debut album as being one that "goes up like an angel, and down like a wounded ox." The same is totally true on "Periphery II," but even more so. I don't know if he took voice lessons, or just practiced more, or leveled up in some interdimensional vocalist RPG - but he is on fire here, folks. There are a few times his voices soars...it just *soars.* He pulls from a much broader range of vocal traditions, occasionally even nodding towards soul and jazz. And his screaming has gone from vaguely emo to a full on Corey Taylor-like yell.

To pull a few favorites out of the track listing, the first one that comes to mind is "Scarlet" which isn't the most progressive or experimental of their tracks; its roots are pretty firmly planted in a metalcore tradition. But it's high energy, goes from pissed off to peaced out with total ease, and only leaves you wanting more. "Make Total Destroy" is on the progressive and chaotic end of Periphery's spectrum. It's a more screaming/less singing type of outing, and the guitar work is frantic and infused with pure adrenaline. "Mile Zero" is also another favorite; a track that lyrically tackles the loss of a loved one, and musically runs a great Periphery-gamut. And as always, this album has a decent dose of those catchy grooves that make Periphery a band I can't stop listening to.

- AND -

It clocks in at 69 minutes, making it shorter than "Periphery" by a mere 3 minutes-and-change and long enough to satisfy my hankering for more than just a half hour's worth of yummy tunes.

THE CONS

Whatever it was that gave Spencer his new lease on life vocally might have imbued him with just a smidge of spare hubris. Once or twice he veers into an almost boy-band like pronunciation of a word (like "MEH-EH-HAY" for "me"), but fortunately it's only once or twice.

It's not *quite* as groove-oriented as their debut album. That's not a total drawback, but when it comes to djent I like my groove like I like my gravy: thick. There are plenty of grooves and hooks in the music, just not quite as ubiquitous as previous material.

THE VERDICT

It's a home run from where I'm standing. Periphery's blend of polyrhythmic metal and electronic ambience is gorgeous in its complexity and strength. When listening to a lot of music, you get the feeling that an instrumental version of the track you're currently enjoying would be kinda boring; as if the music is just buoying up the vocal track. With Periphery's music, you get the opposite impression; that the music itself would make phenomenal instrumental tracks. But instead of getting in the way of the arrangement and orchestration, the vocal track adds another degree of precision and complexity. Poetry in motion, I tell ya.

Some listeners might find this release a bit too "radio friendly" in places. There are a handful of tracks that feature minimal screaming (or none at all) and subsequently give "Periphery II" an overall feeling of less-than-heavy. But taken with how much heavier the heavy parts actually are - thanks in part to Spencer's-Slipknot-Stylings - I think it makes for a nice balance. I'm biased, of course, because I'm a huge fan of Periphery's material. But objectively, this release continues the musical traditions and precedents outlined by previous material and acts as a really satisfying follow up to "Periphery." So if you liked that album, I'm pretty sure you'll like this one as well.

And if you're all hung up on whether or not Periphery is truly a djent band, or if djent is a legitimate genre label, or just whatever the hell it is that these comment wars get started over, then "Periphery II" should give you plenty more ammunition for your little crusade.

Because it's pure Periphery, through and through.

Brave

Excellence can be a dangerous endeavor; potentially fatal when attained. Whenever a studio or band or artist of any kind achieves true excellence and can demonstrate the ability to persist in that excellence, they by extension raise the bar by which they're measured. Persist in excellence long enough and the bar may exceed even their own abilities. That's certainly not to disparage the pursuit of excellence; quite the contrary.

Pixar is a perfect example of this, in my estimation. Time after the time that studio has released animated films so spectacular it seemed impossible they could top themselves with their next title. And time and time again they did...until Cars 2, that is. So where does Brave, the latest release from the aforementioned animation powerhouse, fall in relation to Pixar's unique reputation?

The story follows a fiery-headed - both figuratively and literally - Scottish princess named Merida (voiced by Kelly MacDonald). The beginning of the film is almost unbearably familiar thematically: princess has to conform to tradition and choose a suitor, princess is too independent and strong-willed to submit to precedent, princess rebels while secondary characters gasp in shock and disgust. It's basically everything the trailers make it out to be for the first 30 minutes or so. But then, the film takes a clever and surprisingly innovative turn when Merida encounters a witch. After soliciting a potion from the witch to "change her fate," Merida finds the consequences of her actions may lead to a more disastrous end than she could have possibly imagined - setting in motion the rest of the film's adventure.

THE PROS

Scotland's countryside is world-renown for its beauty and grandeur. Conventional wisdom says that set pieces and scenery aren't nearly as important in an animated film as the characters themselves, and Pixar takes their usual revisionist approach to said conventional wisdom. The Scotland of Brave is breathtakingly beautiful. Having never personally visited and only seen glimpses in film and photograph, I found myself actively scanning the landscape around the characters out of sheer wonder. The animation team behind Brave must have spent countless hours researching Scotland's topography and the result is nothing short of stunning; vivid greens in the forest, stones visibly and beautifully weathered by time, vast expanses of crystal clear lakes and rivers.

Pixar's reputation with subtlety also remains delightfully intact, as the characters of the film exude changes in emotion that are almost barely visible onscreen - but powerfully resonant emotionally. And, also true to form, Pixar casts voice actors like it ain't no thang. Billy Connolly as the powerful but jovial King Fergus is as genuine as he is humorous, and Emma Thompson's turn as the perpetually formal Queen Elinor is equally appropriate. Kelly MacDonald imbues each of Merida's lines with a kind of brash sincerity that reflects everything about the character through her voice alone; never mind the pitch-perfect Pixar animation.

As I touched on before, I had some initial reservations about Brave. I have nothing against strong female characters or displays of independence and youthful rebellion. But if we've seen that once, we've seen that a million times and I feared that Pixar was hedging their bets with more tried-and-true plot devices rather risking further innovation. I'm glad to say my suspicions were largely unfounded and that while Brave certainly has a few notes of those cliches woven into the narrative, it ultimately transcends those rather tiresome plot devices in favor of a heartfelt story about the importance of strong familial bonds - namely between a mother and daughter.

THE CONS

Brave is a good movie, a really good movie. But not a great movie, in the sense that Monsters, Inc., Toy Story (and its sequels), and Up, are great movies. Perhaps this is merely my own cynicism talking, but Pixar has hollowed out a reputation for itself that almost defies the possible. And to give credit where credit is due, Pixar's track record is so littered with awards and truly timeless films that if they shut down operation now and never made another film they would still be - in my estimation - arguably the greatest film studio of all time. So when I say Brave is a good movie but not a great one, that's largely because of just how monumentally spectacular Pixar is as a studio. Their films have jaded me. So Brave felt like a worthy contender from a rival animation studio, rather than a continuance of the pitch-perfectionism that preceded it; Cars 2 notwithstanding.

Some of the action scenes and moments felt a little...manic. I realize it's meant to be a kids movie with lots of slapstick and silliness, and that didn't bother me too much. But every once in awhile it felt like the silliness of the action veered into the uncomfortably absurd; character bouncing up and down a little too wildly as they ran away, hyper-fast cuts between punches and strikes, wild-eyed hysteria rampant in a brawl that lasted just a bit too long. What might one day be dubbed in academia the "Pop-Tart Commercial Effect" or "Post Looney Tunes Syndrome." Not a true deterrent, just a minor gripe.

THE VERDICT

As I said before, Brave is a really really good movie, if not a Pixar-great movie. There's a measure of magic that's gone into previous Pixar films that I just felt was missing here. That's not to say the story doesn't involve magic (it does), but walking out of most Pixar films I've often felt transformed in a sense. And as I write this, I can hear the cascade of dissenting comments. "Your expectations are too high!" shouts the nameless disagree-er in my head. Fair enough, inner monologue. But I've come to have my expectations met and exceeded so often from Pixar films that I've lost my ability to not have incredibly high expectations for Pixar films.

Brave is still head and shoulders above your average Dreamworks Animation title, no question. And I was truly delighted to see that they didn't just opt to do a Scottish version of The Little Mermaid. But it's more decidedly a kids' movie than previous entries in Pixar's filmography. Remember the first five minutes of Up? In those moments Up tackled issues like infertility and death in the most heart-wrenching yet tender scene I can think of. Profoundly adult material made simple and gentle for little eyes and ears; it was utterly brilliant. Brave still addresses important issues like family and sacrifice, but it's not quite as profoundly moving as Up. Or the final moments of Monsters, Inc. ("Kitty!"). Or the scene where all the toys link hands in a final gesture of solidarity as they accept the inevitability...OF THEIR DEATH. I mean, Toy Story 3 was intense! Brave comes admirably close to those qualities but misses by just a teeny-tiny bit.

So ultimately Brave isn't quite on par with other Pixar films, in my humble opinion. But it's definitely a solid recovery from the less-than-impressive Cars 2. Maybe my relationship with Pixar has just finally graduated from the honeymoon phase, but since the honeymoon lasted so long I'm resistant to the changes I need to make in order to keep this thing alive.

But ya know what? I think we can make it work.

Whitechapel - "Whitechapel"

I've noticed that a lot of bands tend to resist genre labels. At first I thought it was due to some pretentious desire to be unique, or to be somehow "undefinable." But as I've gotten older I've come to realize that it's probably because most bands get pigeonholed way too early by their fans into a specific genre, and any experimentation they do outside of that genre is usually met with a less-than-ecstatic fan response. And that's not on the band really, that has more to do with people's resistance to change. Personally, I love slapping genre labels on bands, specifically because I like to see how they can bend those rules or mix elements of this subgenre with that subgenre, etc. Genre labels are part of what I find fun about listening to different kinds of music. But as I've mentioned time and time again on this blog, when it comes to subgenres in metal, a lot of metalheads behave as if they've just heard the summons of war. Mistake a metalcore band for a deathcore band and pay the iron price. Compare Black Veil Brides (who totally sucks by the way) to As I Lay Dying (who is totally awesome) and prepare to have your head mounted above the gates. Misunderstand the difference between melodic death metal and technical death metal...hell hath no fury.

....Hence....

My hesitation to call Whitechapel a deathcore band right out of the gates, for a couple of reasons. First, I'd say few would object to calling Whitechapel's early work deathcore. In fact, that album really set the bar for a lot of other deathcore bands in my estimation - so what if it's more death- than -core? But through their discography they've grown to reach beyond the simple definitions of deathcore; possibly to the point that it's not entirely accurate to label them as such as any more. And this is where our story begins...

THE PROS

Most bands prefer to do the whole self-titled album thing pretty early on in their discography. Whitechapel went the opposite route and decided that their fourth studio album, released on June 19th, would be titled Whitechapel. I kept up with the pre-release buzz around the album via their website and Facebook page so my hopes were pretty high for the album after I heard "Hate Creation" and "I, Dementia" and I am quite pleased - as usual - to say that the album lived up to and exceeded all my expectations.

This little silver disc with a buzz saw emblazoned on its display side begins with a subdued piano melody on the track "Make it Bleed." Instantly I was intrigued, because I was expecting the ear-splitting explosion of 7-string guitars and crashing cymbals. That moment was to come, but not before the track made it clear that this album isn't out to fit into the mold set for it. About a minute or so later the familiar collision of soundwave with eardrum burst forth and we were back in familiar territory again.

In keeping with their deathcore roots, Phil Bozeman's vocals are aggressive and animalistic as ever. Bozeman is definitely one of the most consistent and recognizable voices in the deathcore scene in my estimation and he brings his signature vitriol - in force - to this album.

"I, Dementia" is one of my favorite tracks from "Whitechapel." In place of blast beats and chaos is a very controlled but ferocious pacing. The song lumbers along like a great beast in slow motion, leaving a trail of carnage in its wake. Another part of what makes extreme metal fun to listen to for me are more violent lyrics. "Faces" takes that signature violence to the political arena with phrases like "If you dare step on this pedestal and promise us change, we'll change the features on your face....we will not live in one nation under hypocrisy."

Part of Whitechapel's evolution involves slowly incorporating more groove-like elements into their music. This was most pronounced on a good majority of their second-most recent album New Era of Corruption or in tracks like "Possession" from This is Exile. That evolution continues to feature prominently on Whitechapel and I was all the more enamored with the album because of it; check out "The Night Remains" for a great example of what I'm talking about. Also featured more heavily on this album are a lot of harmonic minor/melodic minor/North African modalities in the leads and solos.

THE CONS

I honestly can't think of any, personally.

THE VERDICT

A part of me thinks that this album might continue to polarize their fan base, but I see that as a good thing. I know a good deal of their "fans" were not pleased with their Recorrupted EP; 3 remixes, and an acoustic cover of "End of Flesh"??? *dramatic flourish* What IS death metal coming to??? But personally I love a band that has the balls to experiment with their own sound. And where most metal bands will issue a statement (a gesture I respect) in an attempt to quell the rising butthurt, Whitechapel hasn't really seen the need to. I know they have a great respect for their fans, but in the end they do what they want and I respect them all the more as musicians for it.

So where the piano motif that both opens and closes the album (I'm a sucker for symmetry) might drive some listeners to violent keyboard-pounding, comment-posting, and poor grammar-spewing - I found it absolutely delicious. Don't get me wrong, this album is still heavy and brutal and in your face and violent and everything one would expect from a band of Whitechapel's caliber. But it's also not afraid to eschew those things occasionally in favor of some light experimentation and Whitechapel is all the stronger for it.