The Wrath of Godzilla

There's probably no better example of dumb Hollywood trend-following than the 1998 Roland Emmerich blockbuster Godzilla, an American adaptation of the popular Japanese monster movie series of the same name. While it was successful, Emmerich's re-imagining wasn't remembered fondly by those who sat through it. Newcomers were turned off by a stupid plot, annoying characters, and special effects that look dated compared to movies ten years older than itself. Established Godzilla fans were spurned by drastic redesigns of the creature itself, which ended up looking like a cheap knockoff of the T-Rex from Jurassic Park. In the end, it was a movie that pleased absolutely no-one, and it would be sixteen years before the famous city-destroying lizard would ever get back to the big screen, this time with Monsters director Gareth Edwards at the helm.

That's no reef.

This new Godzilla is a very human-centric story as the world is suddenly and disastrously reintroduced to city-sized monsters with our smaller, slightly crunchy heroes left to scurry around avoiding being stepped on. As an American soldier traveling to Japan to bail his estranged father (Bryan Cranston) out of jail, Aaron Taylor-Johnson just wants to get things taken care of and return to his wife (Elizabeth Olsen) and son at his California home. Unfortunately, this trip coincides with the re-emergence of an ancient monster that starts destroying cities and absorbing nuclear power sources all over the Pacific. Soon both soldiers and monster are converging on San Francisco, as the military struggles to contain the destruction and save the lives of all of the world's citizens in the process.

Duct tape is all the rage with crazy people in Japan.

Oh, the problems Godzilla has. The biggest is the fact that the title character has little screen time to speak of. While we get glimpses of the monster throughout the film - and his origins are merely glossed over, by the way - we never really get a good, long look at him until the end of the final act. It's not as though Godzilla doesn't have the opportunity to wreak havoc, as he appears numerous times in scenes setting up grand spectacles, only for the scenes to abruptly cut to either insignificant conversations between insignificant characters about what to do OR to the same scene but immediately after the off-screen carnage that Godzilla fans paid money to see in action. Obviously this was due to one of two things; either it was a budget decision, because that CGI LOOKS extremely expensive to produce (even if 3D added little); or it was a conscious decision to focus more attention on the human characters witnessing this crisis.

Right... what was your purpose here, again?

And we know that's a story angle that Edwards can do; his Monsters was very character-focused, even while the audience seemed to waiting on the edge of their seat for a GLIMPSE of anything alien. There are two reasons why - despite it being a brave idea - Edwards' effort doesn't work here. One is that the movie is called Godzilla, and people did not pay $8 (or more) for their tickets to watch a bunch of humans talking about all the action - and far more engaging action, mind you - taking place off-screen. Second, the characters here are one-note cliches from the annals of monster movies past. Cranston - while amazing - is your standard man driven into obsession by tragedy only to be proven right about the existence of giant monsters in our world. Olsen - while amazing - is your standard wife/mother/love interest whose existence in the film is purely to be an object for our hero to return to. Ken Watanabe and Sally Hawkins - while amazing - are figureheads of a secret society who unsuccessfully tried to keep these giant creatures a secret, and take on a John Hammond-esque desire to not interfere and let nature take its course. David Strathairn - while amazing - is a typical military leader who doesn't hesitate to abdicate nuclear force against what he sees as a threat. And Taylor-Johnson - while struggling to wipe clean his British accent - is the MacGuffin, an American soldier with an unbelievably convenient skill set who gets caught up in trying to take down the monster before it can destroy his home. He also happens to be the luckiest man alive, as proven by the impossibility of the situations he survives. Though the acting is solid, there's not enough development here to make up for the lack of dedicated monster action we get.

Ooh, do we see him now? Wait, wait... no...

So after all that, my opinion on Godzilla must be clear... It's absolutely awesome.

Don't get me wrong, this is a movie with some clear, easily recognizable flaws. Edwards and his filmmakers take WAY too long focusing on things other than the film's main character, and the script - credited to newcomer Max Borenstein but with contributions from mediocre established writers David Callaham (Doom), David Goyer (Blade: Trinity), Drew Pearce (Iron Man 3) and Frank Darabont (okay, he's actually quite good) - just doesn't do this story justice. The actions of the humans are inconsequential (or just stupid), their motivations forced and derivative, and the characters themselves mere caricatures of established cliches.

Amazingly, you can understand almost everything Watanabe says this time around.

But while the film struggles narratively, it still has excellent action, amazing special effects, and it uses its title monster effectively when we finally DO see him let loose. Whether or not you're a fan of the classic Japanese movie creature, seeing him smash buildings or fight other giant MUTOs (yes, they look like derivatives of the Cloverfield monster, but that design was awesome so I'll forgive it) gives a definite feeling of awe and excitement, much like last Summer's similar epic Pacific Rim. Better, Edwards knows to treat Godzilla as a heroic figure, as opposed to Emmerich's more neutral stance in 1998. Sure, he directly causes the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people (off-screen, naturally), but at the end of the day this is a monster you're still rooting for, if only because Hollywood got him right. Simply put, the best parts of Godzilla give you instant happiness, despite whatever else it does wrong. You might mentally tick off all the issues that this film has as you watch it on the big screen, but as the closing credits roll you'll find yourself putting down your 3D glasses, glancing at the screen, and uttering:

"Please, sir, I want some more."

Justice for All

I know I might upset a lot of Academy Award voters with this statement, but here goes: I'm not that big a fan of Steven Spielberg.

Sure, his early stuff - Jaws and Close Encounters of the Third Kind - are classics, and everybody who has seen his early thriller The Duel tells me that it's a movie I need to watch. But as good as Jurassic Park was, was it REALLY one of the best the year it was released? Are E.T. and Schindler's List REALLY among the best movies of all time? I say no. I believe Spielberg is one of the industry's more overrated directors, one with a certain amount of talent and an eye for the cinematic but lacking a consistent storytelling ability. Look at last year as an example; War Horse was a bloated, over-hyped mess that would have been shunned had anybody else been in the director's chair. Instead, it was nominated for Best Picture over more deserving fare such as Drive, Bridesmaids and even David Fincher's solid adaptation of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Spielberg's name can still move mountains, even if his movies more often move me to boredom. It's why I don't look forward to his products, even when they are Lincoln and feature the inimitable talents of Daniel Day-Lewis.

Ah, the days of smaller cabinets...

Based on Doris Kearns Goodwin's biography Team of Rivals, Lincoln focuses on one of the most crucial battles for our sixteenth US President, one that had (almost) nothing to do with the Civil War. The Battle of Gettysburg has ended, and the disastrous Civil War is coming soon to a close. Lincoln (Day-Lewis) has just secured reelection, and makes it his priority to add an amendment to the Constitution to abolish slavery. With public support at an all time high, now is the time to get the amendment ratified by Congress. But even with all his strength, he doesn't have the majority vote necessary to guarantee victory. And so Lincoln and his allies must convince his Democrat rivals that approving this measure is more important than petty political machinations.

As Jessica Rabbit's evil clone would say: "A Man!"

First and foremost, let's get the obvious statement out of the way: Daniel Day-Lewis is simply astounding. an almost guaranteed lock for this year's Best Actor categories, Day-Lewis does far more than simply emulate the recorded character of arguably our most revered President. As the stovepipe hat-wearing politician, the actor embodies Lincoln's persona, from his easy command of an audience to his sensitive compassion to his ability to speak on any given subject. That he does this convincingly comes as no true surprise; that it seems to arrive so easily is what makes Day-Lewis the outstanding performer he is. There isn't one moment in which he is on the screen that he does not demand your attention, respect and awe, and he also appears to garner those same responses from his erstwhile costars.

It was Mr. Booth, in the Theater, with the Revolver. I win!

But he doesn't have to carry the whole movie on his own back, as Day-Lewis is surrounded by some of the best actors Spielberg could cobble together. You can't fire a musket without hitting any of a number of talented character players, from David Oyelowo to Walton Goggins to Jared Harris to Lee Pace to the amazing Michael Stuhlbarg, and those are just the small cameo roles. Tommy Lee Jones, who had been regressing in the quality his performances the past few years, leaps back to relevance with his portrayal of Radical Republican Thaddeus Stevens. His is an Oscar-worthy performance, a far cry from more Men in Black sequels. More strong performances come from David Strathairn, Hal Holbrook and Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and it was obvious a lot of research went into making their relatively obscure characters as true to life as possible. Watchmen's Jackie Earle Haley manages to steal a few moments (opposite Day-Lewis, surprisingly) when he is allowed on screen, putting a much-appreciated face to the Confederate government. And some of my favorite moments in Lincoln involved the banter between John Hawkes and James Spader, playing Republican lobbyists tasked with garnering Democratic support for the amendment. Spader especially is one of the film's best additions. Certainly he's the most entertaining, and while his witty repartee won't likely be enough for Oscar considerations, I'm surprised he's not getting mentions in that regard.

No Oscar for you!

Of course, no Spielberg film is without significant drawbacks. Like most of his work, the director tends to spell everything out in no uncertain terms. Subtlety isn't his specialty, and he's not above using blatant humor, cliched situations and imagery, and telling rather than showing to get his point across. It's not as bad here as it was in War Horse, and the director is helped by his performers in not allowing these weaknesses to get too out of hand. One actor that doesn't really help him however is Sally Field, who plays Lincoln's mentally fragile wife, Mary Todd Lincoln. Spielberg has said that he only saw Field in the role, and that's likely what blinded him to the fact that her performance was typical of what we expect from the character. I frankly wasn't impressed; I've seen good Fields roles over the years, and this wasn't one of them. One scene in particular between Lincoln and his wife didn't quite fit, thanks to a decidedly theatrical take that I'm not entirely sure wasn't intentional. And Spielberg has issues with keeping all of his details straightforward. At times he uses subtitles to effectively introduce new characters or locations that we had only heard of before; at others he leaves us to our devices, confused as to the latest turn of events.

My favorite performer of the whole show.

Besides Day-Lewis and the mostly-amazing cast, what I liked most about Lincoln was the history behind it. For many audience members, this is the first we've heard of many of the details leading up to the ratification of the thirteenth constitutional amendment. The reasons behind each character's actions are closely scrutinized, and Spielberg actually does a good job of showing us both how things have changed in the last 150 years and how much they've remained the same, from the gullibility of the public to the divisiveness of Congress. Again, at times he makes things a bit TOO clear cut (especially with politicians perpetually shouting "What's next: black voters? WOMEN voters?" Yeah, we get it), but this is still likely the most authentic look at Lincoln's political career you're going to see on the big screen. The director's ability to capture a scene on camera is one of his greatest strengths, and likely the main reason he has maintained his foothold atop the Hollywood hierarchy after all this time.

I wonder if he has "Old Man" written on his business cards?

Despite my early reservations, Lincoln is a fine film, and one of the better historical dramas of the past decade. It's not perfect, and Spielberg's inability to get over his own hype slightly sabotages any chances of a Best Picture win. But Daniel Day-Lewis is more of a sure thing than anything else in theaters right now or at any time this year. This is a film that - warts and all - is worth watching for his performance alone. If you want to see a master at work - and really, who doesnt'? - then you simply must give Lincoln a shot. It's easily Spielberg's best film in two decades, and is a much better than most of his critics will ever admit.

Open Letters Review: The Bourne Legacy

I love the Bourne films. Starting with 2002's Bourne Identity, we were introduced to Jason Bourne, an amnesiac, kick-ass super-agent played surprisingly by Matt Damon (remember, this is back when people thought his running Ben Affleck would be a bigger star), and the movie featured twists, action and excitement on unprecedented levels for the time. After the conclusion of Damon's trilogy, the studio decided to look into the fallout of Jason Bourne's actions by telling the story from another genetically-modified agent, this time Jeremy Renner's Alex Cross.

When Jason Bourne threatens to expose the actions of the United States black ops group Treadstone, it sets off a domino effect. Outcome, and its chief Eric Byers, decide to play it safe and liquidate the program, to take the accumulated data and start over elsewhere. Unfortunately for people who work at Outcome, that means murdering agents, scientists and support staff to wipe out all record of the program. Two people who refuse to go down are agent Alex Cross and virologist Dr. Marta Sheering, who find they need one another's help if they're going to survive this government coverup.

The Bourne Legacy is directed by Tony Giltroy and stars Jeremy Renner, Edward Norton, Rachel Weisz, Louis Ozawa Changchien, Stacy Keach, Joan Allen, David Strathairn, Scott Glenn and Albert Finney.

Click here for the whole review at Open Letters Monthly.

A Bard's Tale

I was first introduced to Shakespeare in the seventh grade. Well, that not be entirely true. Even by that point I was aware of the enormous impact the writer had made upon not only the the literary world, but the English language as a whole. But for all intents and purposes I first read his work while at school here in Boston, and to some extent I took to it right away. The Bard is not exactly 'light reading', and many passages might have been all but unreadable to someone my age without the teacher able to explain certain convoluted passages. Shakespeare wasn't meant to be simply read: he was a playwright whose true popularity didn't come until long after his death, and the books we read growing up were always meant to be seen on stage, in performance, and there have also been numerous film adaptations of his works directed by the likes of Kenneth Branagh, Peter Hall, and Baz Luhrmann. So with this latest adaptation by stage and screen director Julia Taymor (that I saw last week alongside my friend The Opinioness) it is funny that the title is both the first of Shakespeare's plays to which I was introduced while also considered the last of the plays that he alone wrote.

See how moody we can make this?

The Tempest begins with exactly that, as the sorceress Prospera (Helen Mirren) summons a storm to sink a ship with the King of Naples Alonzo (David Strathairn) and his subjects aboard and wash them ashore. There, she plans to extract her revenge for being usurped by her brother Antonio (Chris Cooper) when he accused her of using witchcraft to kill her husband, the Duke of Milan. Having been stranded on an enchanted isle for the past 12 years, Prospera has raised her daughter (Felicity Jones) alone, with only the slave Caliban (Djimon Hounsou) and the mischievous spirit Ariel (Ben Whishaw) as company, Prospera is taking this opportunity of all her enemies being  in one place to teach them a lesson they won't soon forget.

Caliban is what they would call a "happy drunk"

While the language doesn't always survive intact, this IS still Shakespeare. That means that there are constantly more words than necessarily needed to describe a scene we can already can see with perfect clarity. Of course, Shakespeare HAD to overly describe the scenes for the audience since his performers were usually on stages devoid of all visual descriptors. While some passages and lines are cut, the presence of his words remain and in a way Shakespeare is the film's main character, as he's always at the forefront of the story; Even while watching you often overlook the acting of Mirren or the direction of Taymor and think, "This is Shakespeare," so obvious is his verbiage.

How utterly unimpressive

Sadly, this is one of the film's main faults. Despite the performers' best efforts, they are often overshadowed by the words they are speaking, when they're not being overshadowed by flies buzzing in the background. I'll see Mirren in just about anything. Possessing a powerful voice, she can make just about anything interesting, and she had the best performance in this cast. The problem is her character. Prospera (adapted from the Duke Prospero in the original Shakespeare) has a revenge plan for those that wronged her, but she doesn't seem much more sympathetic than any of the other characters, even the undoubtedly bad guys like Antonio or Caliban. Taymor tries to imply a bit of feminism in the role by indicating that she was banished because she was a woman, but it doesn't come off as legitimate here, and there's really not much difference between her and the original Prospero. At least she's better than Felicity Jones, who plays daughter Miranda, and Reeve Carney, who plays Alonzo's son Ferdinand. Both are cringe-worthy actors, and when Ferdinand sings a Shakespeare poem as a love song to Miranda, we want to cover our ears because he CAN'T SING, which is hilarious since Carney is currently the lead on Taymor's stillborn stage show Spider-Man: Turn off the Dark. Perhaps it's just not his singing style on display here, but his scenes with Jones are boring and trite, reveling in the worst of Shakespeare's literary work.

Prepare to be bored to tears by Jones

The rest of the cast are mostly hard-working actors and many of them have done Shakespeare before, though some were odd selections to say the least. Djimon Hounsou is fairly powerful as the angry slave Caliban, but the truth is that he could have probably played just about any character in the film better than it's existing occupant, possibly including Mirren. So why does the film's only black actor play the trod-upon slave? I'll let that one hang, though the way his character is treated does speak volumes to issues of colonialism and slavery, as pointed out in a review by The Opinioness here. David Strathairn is an actor I love, but he seems to be mailing it in as King Alonzo. In truth, he doesn't have much to work with (I don't remember if that was the same in the play) but his performance seems surprisingly uninspired for an actor of his caliber. Tom Conti is great as the the noble Gonzalo, and Alan Cumming is well cast is not necessarily the best for the role of the King's ambitious brother Sebastian. Alfred Molina is hilarious as the drunkard Stephano (who was one of my favorites when I first read the play) and appears in some of the film's best (and, sadly, worst) scenes. Ben Whishaw plays the spirit Ariel to good effect, though I had issues with thew character that I'll get into later.

The setting and language are beautiful... Everything else, not so much

The two characters oddly cast were those of Prospera's brother Antonio and the jester Trinculo. Chris Cooper seems more at home playing modern-day blue collar characters, but he surprising comes off as effective as Prospera's loathsome brother. He's not the best, though this might be due to poor direction rather than his acting abilities. But the other odd casting choice was that of comedian Russell Brand as Trinculo. Though Brand might at first seem the right type to play the fool, he can't escape the fact that this is a work Shakespeare, and his line deliveries are often too whimsical or too often place heavy emphasis on certain words that sometimes comes with inexperienced actors tackling works like these. Brand is on occasion funny, but too often the best he could illicit from me was a  raised eyebrow and a question of when the scene would be over.

Thankfully not shown: Ariel's man-boobs

It's obvious the $20 million spent on the film's budget wasn't for special effects. Though filming around the volcanic areas of Hawaii provided scenery as beautiful as anything you've seen before, the few scenes were digital effects are used look horrid and detract from the film's natural elegance. Scenes especially with Ariel flying around at his mistress' bidding look ugly, and a recounting of him causing the tempest to sink the ship looks overly-stylized, And let's not forget his distracting man-boobs, which like a highway pileup I couldn't draw my eyes from no matter how hard I tried. The film then apparently ran out of money, as there are many more scenes that might have benefited from a digital make-over but come off more as stage tricks than cinema magic, especially towards the film's conclusion. Speaking of the film's conclusion, while I was glad to see it come I was startled by how swiftly it came, as while Taymor seems to anticipate that Shakespeare buffs appreciate the film's final act, it comes off as merely swift and a "well, that's done" attitude before the final credits.

Ah, the old "ring of fire" routine, an old favorite

Despite some interesting bits, I found myself epically bored by this version of The Tempest. I'm not sure how this happened, as you can't simply say that Taymor didn't understand what she was doing with the Bard's work. After all, she's directed Shakespeare on stage and screen before, most notably with Titus in 1999. Though her films have usually gotten mixed reviews in the past, boring is the one thing they've never before been described as. It's not too often that you can get a cast together with this much talent and fail miserably, but kudos to Taymor for doing it in style. Now Spider-Man: Turn off the Dark won't her only missed shot of 2010.