Open Letters Monthly: Machete Kills

The original Machete was a "meh" movie. Paying homage to the exploitation-style "B" movies of the sixties and seventies, the action-packed film was a bit unique thanks to its Latino focus and casting, courtesy of creator Robert Rodriguez. While the original could only be called a modest success, the filmmakers of sequel Machete Kills have gone all out, expanding the cast, scope and budget. But does that mean you should take the time to check out the sequel to a movie that wasn't all that great to begin with?

The original Mexican vigilante returns to when the US government calls upon him to return to his native land. There, a revolutionary has built an advanced missile to launch against Washington D.C. unless his demands are met. Though he is devastated by a personal tragedy and uneasy about returning home, Machete Cortez finds himself in his element as he finds himself fighting also fighting against bounty hunters,  double agents, arms dealers, and every single bad guy back home.

Machete Kills is directed by Robert Rodriguez and stars Danny Trejo, Michelle Rodriguez, Sofia Vergara, Amber Heard, Lady Gaga, Antonio Banderas, Cuba Gooding Jr., Jessica Alba, Demian Bichir, Mel Gibson and "Carlos Estevez" (Charlie Sheen).

Click here for the full review at Open Letters Monthly.

The Ballad of a Drunkard

There are few in the United States who would not know who you were talking about were you to mention the name Hunter S. Thompson. A popular author, he is credited with the invention of "Gonzo Journalism", or planting yourself so deeply in the news story you are covering so that you are in fact the central character. His nonfiction books Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail still sell well forty years after they were first published, and are often reqired reading for anyone studying American Literature in establishments of higher learning. Known for his prolific drug and alcohol abuse, a complete inability (or unwillingness) to objectively cover stories, a deep hatred for Richard Nixon, and for his tragic suicide in 2005, Thompson has become perhaps more popular following his death than he ever had in his long career. Therefore it's almost sad that he has left no contemporaries in his wake; Gonzo Journalism has never seen a writer so regarded by the everyman, and that all Thompson might be leaving behind are his own words is all at once sad and hopeful: sad because there may never be another writer like him, and hopeful since as long as his words exist, so does his influence. But it's not his political work that we are here for today. In 1998 Thompson released his first published novel The Rum Diary to the public. After two failed attempts to adapt the book to the big screen in 2000 and 2002, bandying about such names as Nick Nolte, Benicio del Toro and Josh Hartnett, and with Thompson himself referring to the process as a "waterhead fuckaround" among other things, things finally got underway in 2007, with Bruce Robinson directing and writing the screenplay for the title, starring Johnny Depp as Thompson's autobiographical protagonist Paul Kemp.

Another adventure through sobriety

It is the 1950's. Paul Kemp has left mainland America for the beautiful shores of Puerto Rico, where he has taken a job as a journalist for the San Juan Star. The financially-challenged paper has him writing Astrology columns and articles about bowling alleys and American tourism, while ignoring major cultural stories as "uninteresting." The San Juan editor in chief Edward J Lotterman (Richard Jenkins) is only interested in selling newspapers, not telling people the news. As Kemp explores the ups and downs of this island, he is approached by unscrupulous businessman Hal Sanderson (Aaron Eckhart). Hal wants Paul to help them with his writing to build luxury hotels on an uninhabited island in the Caribbean, and doesn't care who he screws over to get it. Paul meanwhile is far more interested in Sanderson's fiance, the sultry and sexually provocative Chenault (Amber Heard), and wants nothing to do with Hal's gaudy rich lifestyle. Caught between a failing newspaper and an real love, failed novelist and rum enthusiast Paul struggles in his attempts to put words down on paper in his own voice.

Paul practices his "my eyes are up here" stare

Though English director Bruce Robinson hasn't helmed a motion picture since the 1992 thriller Jennifer 8, he manages to do a surprising number of things correctly in what is arguably his biggest ever stage. For one thing, he does a stellar job showing the gross division between the luxurious tourist sections of Puerto Rico and the island's destitute native villages. One is filled to the brim with ocean-front hotels, bowling alleys and casinos, catering to obese and gleeful white people, while the ghettos are littered with trash and broken vehicles, with cockfights and dirty children on every corner. In one otherwise notion-less scene, Eckhart's less-than-generous character shouts angrily at natives who watch his private beach from the jungle. The difference between the bright and sandy beach and the dark, foreboding jungle is so strong that you can practically TASTE the inequality present. Robinson surely knew what he wanted to portray most about this country's ownership of this small island, and from stories I've been privy to over the years there's little that has changed in the past sixty years, making this point as timely as it ever was.

Eckhart tries to teach Depp to act like a real person, to poor effect

Unfortunately, that's the best The Rum Diary can come up with, as the rest of the movie is a batch of seemingly but not necessarily connected set of scenes portraying everything from hits from psychadelic drugs to more literal hits, especially when Kemp and his associate Bob Sala (Michael Rispoli) are being hunted down by a lynch mob. A brief scene of Kemp and Sala debating who will be the next US President shows Thompson's intense dislike of Nixon, but the whole thing has little to do with the rest of the tale, a burden that many other scenes carry, especially in the film's final act. Worst of all perhaps is that Kemp/Thompson's writing voice is almost tossed aside, rarely making appearances and doing nothing to appeal to anyone other than Thompson's hardcore fanbase.

He might not be sober, but he can still drive... honest!

Speaking of which, one of Thompson's biggest fans is in fact Johnny Depp, playing a Thompson character for the second time in his career after headlining the cult classic Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. However, those expecting another performance to match those of Depp's more eccentric roles will be in for a heady disappointment. Obviously Depp can't be expected to match the manic energy of characters like Captain Jack Sparrow or Edward Scissorhands every time out. However, he has always seemed overmatched playing everyman roles, with last year's The Tourist a perfect example of the wrong that can come from casting him as such. He has his moments, but there is very little reason beyond bare-bones ideals to care about this alcoholic druggie with only slightly fewer scruples than his enemies, and Depp does little to raise this character above that low bar. Another disappointment is Eckhart as Hal Sanderson, a true shame since this is usually the kind of role that Eckhart could run away with on a bad day. Instead he is far too constricted by a script that portrays him as one-dimensional cipher, part of the 1% that people will blindly lash out against on principle alone. Richard Jenkins as newspaperman Lotterman is only slightly better, with at least a small amount of depth keeping him from the gutter. Jenkins pulls Lotterman up by the bootstraps, making a character who is undeniably cruel, but with perfectly logical reasoning behind his actions. A lack of real good guys is an ever-present issue with the film, with a greasy photographer played by Michael Rispoli and a neo-Nazi scrub played by Giovanni Ribisi the closest thing the film creates as allies for Kemp. With friends like these... at least the casting department got one thing undeniable right; as one of the few bright spots in 2011's worst picture nominee Drive Angry, Amber Heard gets another chance to showcase her talents as the film's main love interest. Though underutilized, Heard makes every moment on screen count far more than any of her co-stars, and even manages to coax some of the somehow elusive charm (usually in no short supply) from Depp's performance.

"Three Men on a Bike" just doesn't have the same ring to it...

With a lackluster tale that feels unfinished, broken in some places and unnecessary in others, The Rum Diary is about as far from a good day's entertainment as one can get without being a complete travesty. There are some good sequences early on, but that good will doesn't last as the film's second half is full of incomplete thoughts, harvested from the fringes of an altered mind. This isn't the film many think it should be, and it certainly isn't the film that Hunter S. Thompson - or any author for that matter - deserves as his legacy. While The Rum Diary isn't the bad movie I'd thought it might be, its lack of drive and focus turn it into a thoroughly mediocre one. When you consider Thompson's controversial career, calling a movie based on his works mediocre is really a worse fate.

A Caged Beast

Nicolas Cage keeps making movies. People keep watching them. This has been going on for years, with seemingly no rhyme or reason to the ebb and flow of the Scion of Coppolla's career. His resume is littered with films that by anyone's standards trend on the positive side: Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans, World Trade Center,  and Kick-Ass, not to mention his critically-acclaimed roles in the films Moonstruck, Leaving Las Vegas, and Adaptation. But those have been rare serious roles amid a sea of action titles like Next, Knowing, Bangkok Dangerous, Con Air, The Rock, etc. He and John Travolta started their action film careers at about the same time, but while Travolta has of late re-focused to more family friendly roles (and when your films do as badly as bomb From Paris with Love, who can blame you?), Cage has made more and more cheaply-made action films, including this year's violent thrillers Season of the Witch, Trespass, The Hungry Rabbit Jumps, and Drive Angry, the 3D film I saw in this past weekend. I realize I'm being critical of his career while at the same time having financed one of his films, but there is a method to my madness. Or more appropriately, CAGE's madness. If there's one thing Nicolas Cage does really well, it's play to his eccentric side. What he might lack in the variety of his performances is often made up for by his ability to play an entertaining madman. With Drive Angry's exaggeratedly left-field story and dialogue, it seemed the perfect fit for Cage's persona and temperament. I also figured that the 3D aspect of the film would be best enjoyed on the big screen, since there's no way in hell I'm dropping however much money it takes to get a 3D television until the technology grows a bit more.

There's a lot of driving here. And much of it is angry.

Taking it's plot from I'm sure dozens of sixties' and seventies' exploitation films, Drive Angry is about a very bad man named Milton (Cage), who escapes from the clutches of hell to hunt down the Satanic cult who murdered his daughter and kidnapped his granddaughter. This group, led by the notorious Jonah King (Billy Burke), is going to sacrifice the child on the next full moon in an attempt to raise hell on Earth. Milton must face countless cultists with only his sidekick Piper (Amber Heard), many exotic firearms and a weapon referred to as "The God-Killer". Meanwhile, the agents of hell have sent The Accountant (William Fichtner) to force Milton back into the underworld, whether he wants to go or not.

Road rage takes on whole new meanings with Cage behind the wheel

For the record, this movie can be skipped on the big screen for more than one reason. The special effects are either grossly underfunded or ineptly implemented (or both), being simultaneously unimpressive and groan-inducing during what are supposed to be the film's most exciting moments. The gun play is well crafted, though at times the action is one-sided, with most of Milton's enemies unable to hit the broad side of a barn, of which the film has plenty. Best are the driving sequences, and especially the chases. It helps that the film seems to have a great respect for classic roadsters (if nothing else), and they're such a huge part of the film that it makes the experience somewhat more palatable than it would be otherwise.

A rare non-vehicular scene

This isn't to say the film is GOOD. One of the things that had to come off without a hitch to make the film fun was Cage's demeanor, but for the majority of Drive Angry that classic Cage craze is surprisingly light. Though he has some great dialogue (when told Lucifer will be mad with his escape, Milton replies "What's he going to do: not let me back in?"), and has some insane gunfight scenes (one in a love hotel alongside actress Charlotte Ross is particularly insane), it's entirely lacking in the charismatic Nic Cage I'd been hoping would show up. Most of his dialogue is delivered in the same monotonous tone, and sometimes it takes a moment to realize he's unleashed a one-liner. Better is Heard as former waitress Piper, who is always willing to give someone an old-fashioned redneck ass-kicking. Sometimes Piper bites off a bit more than she can chew, but Heard is mostly effective in a surprisingly strong role, proving she might have the talent to make for a long career. Burke, a long-time character actor who is probably best known for his appearances in the Twilight series of films, is both charismatic and creepy as the film's cult leader. Completely crazy and unlikable, Burke does an amazing job with the role, even if it feels at times a bit one note-ish. Best of the bunch is Fichtner, however, who completely makes the film with his dry, vulgar dialogue. Playing Satan's right-hand man, Fichtner is such a bad-ass that everything that comes out of his mouth is comedy gold. When he tells someone in a clipped, dismissive tone "I'll see you soon," it's hilarious just to see the looks on their faces as they try to ascertain what he could mean. The Accountant also doesn't let anything get between him and his prey without breaking out the violence (in excess) when necessary, either. If there's one thing I didn't like about Fichtner's performance, it's that there wasn't ENOUGH of him, something I wish I could say about the more-heralded Cage.

"Breaker, breaker! We got us a convoy!"

Unfortunately, the film's stupidity and poor effects drive most of the enjoyment out of what could have been a fun, simple, old-school action film. A hackneyed final act puts the cap on it, and for the time being Drive Angry is slated at #7 (dead last) on my list of 2010's best films. What's possibly most disturbing about this film is that, unlike the previous Cage films that had fans lining up around the block to see, Drive Angry finished a disappointing ninth at the box office, well behind the offensive Farrelly Bros. film Hall Pass. It had to be a shock to producers, who had expected Cage to rake in guaranteed dough, not put out the worst-debuting 3D film of the modern era. My opinion is this: 3D films are more expensive to make, more expensive to show, and therefore more expensive to see. At the theater I frequent, seeing a normal film will set you back $11.50. Seeing a 3D film will instead cost you $15.50, a four-dollar difference that might seem innocuous at first until you start plopping on added concessions like popcorn and soda, and suddenly that extra $4 is money you could spend elsewhere. I know one bomb doesn't make a trend, but I wonder if this is what some producers are thinking: what if viewers have set a price limit for seeing a Nicolas Cage film?