Saddle Sore

You know that thing that seems like a really bad idea? Somebody's going through with something, and for the energy and attention and hype they are devoting to that project, you can't for the life of you understand why? That's pretty much my case with Disney's epic western, The Lone Ranger. All the elements for failure are here. With very few exceptions, nobody WATCHES westerns anymore. On top of that, the budget for this particular piece is so bloated ($215 million, not counting advertising) that it would have to be the highest grossing western ever JUST to be considered a success. Plus, Disney's attempts to push into the action-adventure genre in recent years have fallen flat creatively, and for every financially successful dip into the nostalgia pool (Oz the Great and Powerful) there have been far too many pricey belly flops (Prince of Persia, John Carter and the last Pirates flick, for example). Finally, there's a bunch of negative attention out there focused on the casting of Johnny Depp as Comanche sidekick Tonto, which essentially has the top-billed star performing the Native American variant of blackface. Can The Lone Ranger overcome all these issues by simply issuing the statement that it was from the same team that brought you Pirates of the Caribbean (director Gore Verbinski, producer Jerry Bruckheimer and Depp)?

The short answer is no, it cannot.

Surrender is not an option.

Based on the character from the popular TV show and radio serials that first appeared way back in the 1930's, The Lone Ranger tells the origin of the man once known as John Reid (Armie Hammer), who returns home from college to Colby, Texas to become the new District Attorney. Unknowingly, he is aboard the same train as outlaw Butch Cavendish (William Fichtner), soon about to hang for his crimes against the Indian natives. But when Cavendish's gang breaks him out, kills several Texas Rangers (John's brother included) and leaves the young lawyer for dead, John must team up with eccentric Comanche Tonto (Depp) to avenge his family and bring law back to the untamed West as the masked outlaw known as The Lone Ranger

Hope you like him... he gets old fast.

Right from the start, we're assaulted with idiotic imagery, as the opening scene takes place in a San Francisco museum in the 1930's, where a young fan of the Lone Ranger meets an aged and demented Tonto (Depp in heavy makeup). There, Tonto begins to narrate the entire tale, a plot device so contrived and ill-conceived that I can't believe it made the final cut. Why not just go right into the story and action? Do we NEED to see that no matter what, the legend of the Ranger has endured? Isn't what you're about to show us going to do that? It's a lousy way to begin this whole experience, as I don't ever remember Pirates needing to remind us that the entire plot was written around a theme park ride.

The railroad: our first major environmental devastator.

This is just the beginning of Lone Ranger's problems, as that opening (and subsequent occasional story-breaking subplot) sets the tone for a movie that can't figure out what it wants to be. On one hand, it's light-hearted action-adventure, with classic cowboy gun play, colorful bad guys and even a bit of witty dialogue. On the other, it tries way too hard to overcome its lighter fare and attempts to show some authentic culture of the time. This includes a scene in which one of the bad guys (in this case, Barry Pepper's military officer) leads an army in the slaughter of an invading Comanche tribe. With bodies clogging up a river, it's a powerfully sad reminder of the atrocities committed in the name of "progress." And then, not twenty seconds later, Tonto tells a one-liner about a horse. It's this unevenness in theme and plot even within the confines of a single scene that mars much of the fun that could have been had with this western tale.

HBC with a gun leg? Are you sure Tim Burton didn't direct this bit?

And that's sad, because the film really does have its moments. Despite any niggling concerns about the quality of the production, this is a veteran team who have committed great acts of filmmaking in the past. This was especially true for the first Pirates of the Caribbean, and there are times during Ranger where you remember why you liked that swashbuckling adventure so much. The action is better than you might expect, culminating in an insanely epic - and surprisingly fun - battle atop, under and through racing train cars, set to an updated (but still classic-sounding) variant of Rossini's 'William Tell Overture.' Though the special effects are not always as sharp as they could be, at least they don't possess the cartoonish quality of a George Lucas adventure. It's easily some of Verbinski's best action work, and never feels overlong (which you couldn't say about any of Pirates' battles). There are also a slew of talented actors and interesting characters, though for the life of me I'm not sure how I feel about Ruth Wilson's mediocre performance. On the more positive side, Armie Hammer is as pleasant a lead as you can get. I wish he'd pick better projects (his last two were the terrible Mirror Mirror and the meh J. Edgar), but at least you can't say anything negative about his efforts or talent. He's supported by a bevy of charismatic villains in Fichtner, Pepper, and Tom Wilkinson as a corrupt business magnate (in Hollywood, is there any other kind?), who are a triple threat to the forces of justice. However, I wish we could have seen a bit more of Helena Bonham Carter's peg-legged (and bad-ass) brothel madam Red Harrington, who charms in a few scenes but is missing for almost the entirety of the movie. James Badge Dale meanwhile rounds out the cast (and is enjoying a pretty good career run presently) as John's brother.

Let's just get this trope out of the way.

But the film boasts two big stars. One is featured on the poster above; the other is not. One was in Pirates of the Caribbean; the other was not. One has a few moments of levity but is otherwise remarkable; the other is a horse who absolutely steals the show. Johnny Depp fails to attain the same level of entertainment he managed as Captain Jack Sparrow, which I wouldn't even bother mentioning if it weren't obvious they were trying to emulate the exact same process by making Tonto a wise-cracking, deranged and occasionally dangerous individual who is supposed to steal scenes and chew scenery. However, he doesn't do any of those things, despite wearing a dead bird on his head and wearing more makeup than KISS. His too-frequent motions to "feed" the bird get old after the first few minutes, and his monotonously-delivered dialogue doesn't show the same charisma we've come to expect from the actor. And his Native American routine (which I'm sure was meant to be endearing and honorable) never feels fully developed, as though he and the filmmakers never really took the time to nail down his characteristics. While it's certainly not as insulting as it could have been (especially when there are a few Native American actors in here that are great), there's no doubt that Depp was the wrong man for the job (seriously, the kid who plays his younger self has darker skin), brought in as box office padding and nothing more.

Guess who's better?

No, the star of The Lone Ranger turns out to be none other than Silver, the albino horse who can often be seen hanging out in trees or silently arguing with his human counterparts. Stories from the set overtly praise the abilities of Silver, and his on-screen antics certainly seem to prove these tales accurate. However, he doesn't stand out in all that many scenes, and even then as a comedic foil to the Ranger and even to Tonto's more lucid moments. Still, it's a sad day in the industry when a horse not only outperforms his human hosts, but does so with relative ease.

"I am the Law."

Sadly, despite a few glimmers of genuinely strong filmmaking, The Lone Ranger is everything you might have feared: it's a pretty, over-bloated, uneven, SFX-dependent, mediocre, and slightly racist epic that never deserves the attention that it attempts to demand. It's understandable why the marketing department for this film focused so hard on the "from the people who brought you Pirates" plan, as I'm sure the remaining fans of that franchise represented a significant percentage of those who actually showed up opening weekend. But Lone Ranger is no Curse of the Black Pearl. Its desire to resurrect the western genre is admirable, but better movies have been made in recent years (including True Grit and 3:10 to Yuma) that had far less a budget than the one used by Bruckheimer and crew. If he and his fellow producers had perhaps lowered their ambitions somewhat and put together a smaller, low-tech production with the crew and cast that they had, The Lone Ranger might have been a winner. As it is, it's just a mess we'll they'll be spending the next couple of weeks cleaning up.

Singing and Dancing

While my sister and I were growing up, our parents always wanted us to have a healthy appreciation for the arts and culture. Movies, museums and the theater were visited often, and those trips helped shape me into the man I have become, and continue to guide my perceptions of the world today. One I remember with some clarity was a showing at Boston's Wang Center of Les Miserables, the musical about poverty and revolution, crime and punishment in 1800's France. Even after all this time, I can remember the legendary musical numbers performed live by people who were masters of their craft. On Christmas, the whole country got a chance to see Tom Hooper's vision of that story on the big screen. Hooper, who could have done any project he wanted after scoring big with 2010's The King's Speech, decided to tackle the challenge of turning a story told 98% in song to a cinematic masterpiece. How did he do? Well, let's review.

Les Miserables follows Jean Valjean (Hugh Jackman) - a man who served 19 years in prison for stealing a loaf of bread to feed his sister's children - after he is paroled. While he at first cannot find work due to his reputation as a "dangerous criminal", Valjean eventually catches a break and manages to make some wealth and do some good for the people of France after fleeing parole and taking an assumed name. His nemesis and the man chasing him is Javert (Russell Crowe), an officer of the law who rigidly enforces the law and cracks down on even the smallest infractions. Valjean finds a purpose in life when he attempts to aid the sick and struggling mother Fantine (Anne Hathaway) and adopts her daughter Cosette upon her death. Meanwhile, a revolution is building as the downtrodden common folk take up arms against the oppressive King and bourgeoisie.

Hope you enjoy Hathaway's performance... it's damned short

The good news is, if you love the musical as much as some people I know, you won't have any problems with the big screen rendition of Les Mis. Hooper changes almost nothing about what makes the musical so impressive, from its memorable musical score to its multiple-threaded story full of entertaining characters. He augments only in the tiniest bits, most notably in the addition of a new song for Jackman at the midway point. Like the musical, the actors rarely speak in anything but verse, and the director gets great vocalization from his cast by having had them sing live during filming, rather than recording it in post production. While it takes some effort to get used to, and at a few moments the singing doesn't quite match the music, the result is a largely authentic emotional response from his actors, who really get into their performances as though they were really playing on Broadway.

She dreamed a dream, and then she was gone.

The cast of course is a big reason for why the whole thing turned out nicely, and the main credit for that can be attributed to Jackman and Hathaway. Hathaway especially steals the show, and considering she has MAYBE twenty minutes of screen time in a two-plus hour movie, that says a lot. She's assisted somewhat by Hooper's direction (the fall into degradation of Fantine just happens to be the most masterfully shot sequence in the whole movie), but for the most part she deserves all the credit in the world for taking an important bit part and wringing everything out of it that she could. I didn't even know she could SING, and here she is belting out solos like a veteran vocalist. She's an Oscar guarantee at this point, bringing talents to the role that very few people could have expected. Jackman, however, has a history with song and stage, and so his excellence as Jean Valjean comes as absolutely no surprise. The part plays to the best aspects of his theatrical abilities, and anybody who is used to seeing him play manly men in the X-Men films or Real Steel needs to see his work here. The rest of the cast are a step down, though both Eddie Redmayne and debuting Samantha Barks will completely surprise you with their acting and singing abilities. Both have long, excellent careers ahead of them at this point. Helena Bonham Carter and Sacha Baron Cohen put on strong performances as secondary villains (when am I going to stop being surprised by Cohen's talents?), and while Amanda Seyfried did not really impress me with her appearances, she was so barely present that it's hard to really give her a hard time. The only dud in casting was Crowe, who sports a fine singing voice but can't seem to loosen up and look natural for the camera. It's especially surprising when you consider what a good job he did in the unspectacular Man with the Iron Fists. Here, he puts on one of his lesser performances, the weakest part of an otherwise great group.

If it wasn't for Hathaway, everybody would be talking about her.

But while Hooper gets a lot out of his cast and puts on some great visuals, his story feels... exactly the same as the musical. At the core, you're getting pretty much the same experience you would on a stage, and while that is pretty impressive it also speaks to a glaring lack of individuality in his vision. The last time I saw a musical theater-turned-theatrical release, it was 2007's Sweeny Todd, which suffered from much the same ailment. There just wasn't enough to make it feel like more than they filmed a stage play. While Hooper's Les Mis is a far superior experience than Tim Burton's production, at times the director could have mixed things up a bit to make up for the play's... melodramatics, especially in the final act. The final ten minutes are largely underwhelming, shoehorning an obscene amount of plot into a few minutes of film, and the closing scene is almost as bad as Titanic's "applause" finale. So why did this make the final cut? Because it was that way in the musical, that's why.

And he's STILL the manliest man in Hollywood.

There are people who absolutely LOVE the stage version of Les Miserables. Usually when adaptations such as this are made, they alienate fans of the original by completely changing elements that made the original experience unique, whether major or minor. But fans of the stage Les Mis will have no such issues, as few changes and an excellent voice cast guarantee that diehards will walk out of the theater crying and sure they have just seen a masterpiece. For the rest of us, this musical is great, but doesn't live up to that impossible superlative. Keep Jackman and Hathaway earmarked for their exquisite performances, but otherwise this is "just" a great, deeply encompassing good time at the movies, not one of 2012's absolute best.

Or: The Trials of Mad King George the Stammerer

This past summer, I thought I wouldn't see a better trailer for a film in 2010 than those for Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, the comic-based film starring Michael Cera that I had been sure would be my number one film for the year. Sadly, the film did not live up to the standard set by Bryan O'Malley's comic series and while I still loved the film, one check of 2010's Top 10 films shows it not to have made the cut. Such is the danger of overly relying on a film's trailer to be an indicator of sed film's overall quality, and I learned my lesson from that experience not to set my expectations too high, lest I be disappointed again. Of course, Black Swan also had an excellent trailer and actually lived up to the hype, so it can be done. My favorite recent trailer, however, was for a film so completely unlike the two that though it has long been hailed by critics as one of the year's best, I wasn't sure if I would even have interest in seeing it. Of course, I did see The King's Speech yesterday, and now the only problem I have may be deciding where it falls in my Top 10.

Well of course he's having trouble: Who wouldn't in that hat?

The basis for the film comes from the true story of England's King George VI. While still serving as the Duke of York, Prince Albert (Colin Firth) begins to see speech therapist Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush) due to a pronounced stammer that made him terrified of public speaking, The creation of the "wireless" or radio means that the days of a member of the royal family simple being seen well not falling off his horse are over, and the King and his family are now expected to speak to their people through the airwaves. What culminates is a friendship between the future King of England and a commoner that is so unbelievable it must be true.

Don't you just want to buy him a drink?

Directed by noted British director Tom Hooper, The King's Speech is a film that lives and dies by its actors. Firth really pulls off the idea that he's a man with a serious verbal handicap, his speech impediment fully believable in its severity and adjustment throughout the film. The role of the future King George may not be as deep or as subtle as that of George Falconer from last year's excellent A Single Man, but that role was so amazing that to compare most any performance to it would be unfair, even for Firth. Still, Firth is an amazing presence on the screen, accurately and charismatically portraying one of the more famous nobles of the 20'th century with distinction. Rush is equally charming as the speech therapist Logue, whose treatment of the king involved some peculiar methods but mostly emphasized humor, patience and sympathy. Rush is disarmingly funny, but it would be wrong to simply call him a comedian and leave it at that. Logue is instead a strong character in his own right, driven by a need to help others that is admirable, especially in his charging expensive rates for his more affluent clients to cover care for those who can't afford his treatment. Rush is simply amazing, on par with Firth and better than any role I've ever seen him perform. Helena Bonham Carter is a surprise, as the woman who usually plays dark ladies in Tim Burton films proves she still can perform at a high level as the future Queen Elizabeth I. Carter plays both a loving wife and mother and a traditional monarch, and the blend makes for one of her best ever characters. Guy Pearce plays George's brother and predecessor, King Edward VIII, who so obviously doesn't want anything to do with the throne it almost makes you wince. Pearce has taken a step back from high-profile roles in recent years, but this minor role here is a good fit, and he manages to encompass in Edward everything that George has not, including confidence and excessive charm. The only real disappointment in the cast is Timothy Spall, whose attempt at a Winston Churchill impression works to some degree in the voice but looks like a scowling bulldog. For such a well-known historical figure, it would have been nice to get a more suitable actor for the role, as my eyebrows instinctively scrunched up every time he appeared on screen. Smaller roles my Michael Gambon, Derek Jacobi, Eve Best and Jennifer Ehle successfully round out a talented cast that do a good job of looking like they fit the times.

Tattoos are just more efficient for note-taking

The sets and camera work is fantastic, with several amazing camera shots of scenes throughout England. Hooper definitely has an eye towards detail, deftly changing angles to best suit the mood he wants to evoke from the audience. The best use of this is when we see through George's eyes, especially in large crowds when he's expected to speak, and we can understand his hesitation and fear to do so. There's also a very old-timey feel to the film quality that makes it feel like a classic period piece while being wholly realistic in its implementation.

Will Firth (or any of the others) get top awards for their performances?

In the end, it was really down to whether to place this highly-renowned film atop my year's Top 10 List. There was little worry going in to see it  that it would rank highly among this year's releases, and reason enough to think it may come out number one. But the idea of the "buddy comedy" comes to mind as I write these words. In your standard buddy film, two characters or completely differing backgrounds coming together for a common cause, and while their differences make for some funny moments for the audience, they eventually come together as friends by the story's conclusion. That fits The King's Speech to a tee... but it also describes about half of Jackie Chan's American films. That I'm comparing Rush Hour to this great film may seem like a slight, I assure you it's not. I simply mean that the story is somewhat formulaic in it's telling, and while it's based on a true story and has outstanding acting, it still drops it slightly in my book. Besides, for a film with such amazing performances, stellar dialogue and beautiful camerawork, landing at #2 for the year isn't a bad deal in the slightest.

Heeeeeeeere's Johnny!

There is a scene early on in Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland in which a young Alice (Mairi Ella Challen) confesses to her father (Marton Csokas) about her strange dreams and wonders aloud if she's crazy. Like a good father, he presses his hand to her forehead, takes it away, and morosely tells her that yes, she is quite bonkers. "But I'll tell you a secret. All the best people are."

And so there's the ultimate message of this movie, delivered in the first five minutes. It's actually not a bad message; How obvious is it that the greatest minds of any generation - Galileo, Einstein - often spurned social convention because they were so sure they were right? Alice's father Charles Kingsleigh is portrayed as such a person, one who wanted to reroute English trade routes around the world in such a way that defied logic, or at least the logic of his possible investors, who were sure he was mad. And so many years later after her father's death and when she's come of age, Alice (In Treatment's Mia Wasikowska) becomes one as well. Brought to a party to be proposed to by a charming if dunderheaded lord, Alice steals away from the party chasing a white rabbit that she recognizes from her dreams, only to fall down the rabbit hole and into the place she used to go where she dreamed, a place she called Wonderland.

Tim Burton may not ever have been a great director, but usually he's at least solid. However, he hasn't had a good film since the largely underrated Big Fish in 2003, and his last film, Sweeney Todd, was surprisingly uninspired. For the man who brought us Edward Scissorhands, the quality of his films has been surprisingly shaky. But one thing has always been consistent: his image. There's a dark moodiness to vision that's in all his films, and it's perfectly situated in this film in the place of Wonderland. For every dark, creepy forest, or the zaniness of the rabbit hole Alice falls into, there's just as much in the bright false-happiness of the Red Queen's (Helena Bonham Carter) castle, or the striking brightness of the castle of the White Queen (Anne Hathaway). It's that visual element that Burton revels in, which is what made Scissorhands and others of his films such modern classics.

I'll talk about the special effects, first. Alice in Wonderland was advertised as being in available in 3D in most theaters but the DVD version was only in 2D. It's an odd choice by the industry to have these recent movies that succeeded in large part in the theaters to their 3D promotions (Avatar, Clash of the Titans) to not release them in 3D for home consumption. Is it the technology? Coraline was released last year on DVD in 3D but it was not exactly a bright success in that medium. Perhaps they're taking the "special edition" route. In six months 3D versions of these movies will be made available on DVD, when you're not even watching the edition you already OWN. Regardless, you can pretty much tell by watching the movie where the 3D is SUPPOSED to be. Am I relieved that I haven't seen the 3D edition? Yes. Unlike the story-lite Avatar, we don't need the 3D in Alice to distract us from the fact that there's no unreasonable plot to follow. We can enjoy the movie for what it is, not what it wants us to see.

Mia Wasikowska may be playing the eponymous Alice, but Johnny Depp gets top billing. Why? Name recognition, of course! This is Disney we're talking about, and they know what sells tickets isn't necessarily a great story or groundbreaking effects or even great acting, but in fact the quality of the names you hire. And so we have Depp, champion of both Burton and box office, placed in the relatively small role of Mad Hatter...relatively small until Burton re-sized the Hatter's role to much more than just a tea party. The Hatter is still mad, of course, but lucidly mad, rather than completely, bat-crazy insane. And he's a veritable ally to Alice against the Red Queen, who has taken over Wonderland since Alice last visited (dreamed) it. He used to be quite sane, and a talented dancer to boot (unfortunately, we're subjected to this inane dance by the movie's end). All in all, Depp is perfectly cast, as he creates quite the parallel to Alice's father's statement of the best people being insane. Many things are still kept from the books, for instance the tea party. He also frequently asks Alice how a raven is like a writers desk. In all, Depp is probably the best thing about the movie, and so most deservedly earned that top bill.

Other acting was good, if not as deep as Depp. Carter is very campy as the evil Red Queen, something of a combination of characters from the Lewis Carroll books: The Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland and the Red Queen from Through the Looking Glass. Whether screaming to off someone's head or in somewhat a more calm scene, It's difficult to take the Red Queen too seriously, as most of the actual evil is better displayed by her underlings, most notably Stayne, the Knave of Hearts. Stayne is properly portrayed by Crispin Glover, and matches a Burton character to a T, complete with heart-shaped eye-patch. Anne Hathaway is actually sort of disappointing as the White Queen, a seemingly air-headed beleaguered monarch who dabbles in something resembling voodoo or necromancy for her powers. Whether the ditziness is real or a show for her supporters is never revealed, but nothing Hathaway does in this film is very important, unfortunate for the actress who garnered such deserved praise in Rachel Getting Married. With so much CGI, there were multiple voice-only roles that were cast, and Michael Sheen, Stephen Fry, Alan Arkin, Barbara Windsor, Paul Whitehouse and Timothy Spall all deserve credit for their excellent contributions, even is Spall's character, a bloodhound named Bayard, doesn't seem to be based on any character from the books. Finally, Wasikowska is charming and elegant as Alice, the straight woman in a bendy world. Alice never fits in in either world, as she's too screwy to fit in the normal standards of the real world, and Wasikowska does a good job of playing that up, consistently expressing confusion and slow understanding up until she has to convincingly play the part of hero and becomes a strong woman of conviction by the end. She's arguably the early break-out female performer of 2010 and we'll see if this translates to her getting promising work in the future, or if she'll be relegated to being one of Burton's "favorites" and only work regularly in his films. She's too good for that, but Depp is too and he went for years before Hollywood took him seriously.

So what's wrong with Alice in Wonderland? Well, it doesn't run overlong, but what ending there is falls flat. It's as if everyone working on the project finished this big elaborate final battle (on a chessboard, no less) and realized: "Oh, crap, we have to end this movie!" And so it's rushed and obvious and not a little silly, including even Depp's little stupid dance. This can be largely credited to screenwriter Linda Woolverton, who's resume (consisting of Disney animated films and kid shows) doesn't exactly scream for confidence. To wrap up the bad ending, the closing credits began with this awful song who's singer I thought sounded familiar, but I wasn't sure. Alice was sung by Avril Lavigne, and it's just as bad - worse even - as you would expect from any Avril Lavigne song. I mean, DAMN, that's a bad song. I'd rather listen to Kenny G end this film than ever hear Lavigne again.

For most of it's 108 minutes, Alice in Wonderland is as interesting, thought-provoking and wondrous vision of fantasy as you'll find in the theater these days, but the mediocre ending does all it can to ruin that experience for you. Not even great special effects or a star cast can save it, as it's ultimately another disappointing film for Burton's library. This in itself is hardly a surprise, but would it kill Tim to try an original idea for once, as in the past ten years only Corpse Bride wasn't based on someone else's story. If he's going to keep piggybacking onto other people's works, he needs to figure out a better way of telling it his way without the messes to which that inevitably leads. For the message it pertains and strong feminine lead, another director perhaps would have been better.

But this is Disney, and they need their name recognition.