SAVING MR. BANKS

Saving Mr. Banks (2013)
Grade: B+

Starring: Emma Thompson, Tom Hanks, Colin Farrell, Annie Rose Buckley, Bradley Whitford, Paul Giamatti, B.J. Novak, Jason Schwartzman, Ruth Wilson and Rachel Griffiths
Premise: Mary Poppins author P.L. Travers flies to Los Angeles against her better judgment to hear Walt Disney's pitch for a movie adaptation, all the while reflecting on her troubled childhood with a flamboyant but irresponsible father.

Rated PG-13 for intense emotional content, depictions of alcohol abuse and brief language

I’ve often griped on this blog about movie adaptations differing from their source material (last year’s Silver Linings Playbook comes inescapably to mind), so how fitting it is that one of this year’s most full and touching movies is about a woman trying to prevent exactly that. In Saving Mr. Banks, an author meets a deep-pocketed studio exec who has a whole team ready to re-make her beloved work into a movie with mainstream appeal, and she all but has a cow over it. Set in the 1960s, when Walt Disney Studios was without question king of the mountain in Hollywood, Banks captures not only the inner turmoil of an artist loosening the reigns on her creation, but, like The Artist and Hugo, is also a valentine to those who love movies, reminding you that there’s nearly-incomparable magic in sitting in a theater and escaping into a great story for an hour or two. With great performances, crackling deadpan humor and tear-jerking pathos, Banks is a well-made, well-rounded film.

Plot

By 1964, Mary Poppins author P.L. Travers (a marvelous Emma Thompson) was close to bankrupt and under pressure from her agent to accept offers to have her books made into a movie, if only for financial reasons. It wasn’t hard to find a taker: Walt Disney himself (the reliably-good Tom Hanks) had been calling her for twenty years, hoping to get the green light for the movie he promised his young daughters he’d make for them. With limited options, Travers flies to Los Angeles and is immediately met with enthusiasm and interest from Disney and his team, including an animated scriptwriter (Bradley Whitford) and a pair of brilliant songwriting siblings (B.J. Novak and Jason Schwartzman). Terse, clipped, and nearly humorless, Travers shoots down almost every idea they have early on, from the idea of making Mary Poppins a musical and casting Dick Van Dyke to including the color red in the movie. They seem to be making so little progress that Disney soon despairs of ever getting a movie made.

But there’s more to the story. Travers has such a hard time reconciling her story with Disney’s pitches because she was never fully comfortable with certain aspects of her book in the first place; writing was her way of venting her feelings about her childhood, in which she grew up poor with a mother (Ruth Wilson) who was stuffy and colorless, and a father (Colin Farrell) who was imaginative and energetic, but also rather childish and irresponsible. Travers won’t admit it, but what she really wants is to re-create the ending to her family’s story, and make it a happy one. But she’s loathe to tell anyone that, let alone Walt Disney.

What Works?

The entire cast is excellent, from the Oscar-worthy Thompson (who’s hilarious, frustrating and heartbreaking all in one) to a fine Colin Farrell as her eccentric father and a wonderfully-understated Paul Giamatti as a friendly limo driver. In his second big role this year (after Captain Phillips), Tom Hanks is terrific as the legendary Disney, combining twinkly humor with quiet but undeniable emotion in an unforgettable lengthy monologue that could bring him Oscar consideration as well. Banks is a barrel of laughs, yet also builds plenty of suspense, has some surprise twists, and is almost certain to coax tears out of audiences at several different points. The end credits, which are ripe with pictures of the real-life individuals plus an appropriate tape-recording of a conversation between Travers and Disney’s creative team, are worth sitting through as well.

What Doesn’t Work?

Banks is a little long, a little slow during some of the flashbacks to Travers’ childhood (in which Travers is played by fine young actress Annie Rose Buckley), and those unfamiliar with at least the Mary Poppins film may find themselves a little lost with lengthy discussions about certain specific details. But these are small complaints, this is a fine film.

Content

Despite the Disney content, this movie is almost certainly for adults, with its constant dialogue and subtle humor. It’s a clean PG-13, with only a few quiet cuss words and no suggestive material, but Travers’ flashbacks to her troubled childhood can be disquieting, especially once her younger self becomes aware of her father’s copious drinking.  

Bottom Line

A great cast, an interesting story, and more than a touch of old-fashioned Walt Disney magic make Saving Mr. Banks an engaging and worthwhile holiday-season flick.

Saving Mr. Banks (2013)

Directed by John Lee Hancock

Written for the Screen by Kelly Marcel and Sue Smith

Rated PG-13

Length: 125 minutes

MANDELA: LONG WALK TO FREEDOM

Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom (2013)

Grade: B+

Premise: The true story of how Nelson Mandela, a well-to-do South African lawyer who became a revolutionary and then a political prisoner, prevented a destructive civil war between the black natives and the white minority in his home country.

Starring Idris Elba as Nelson Mandela and Naomie Harris as Winnie Madikizela-Mandela

Rated PG-13 for strong violence, intense emotional content, some sexuality and brief language

And the rest, as they say, is history.

More and more movies lately have been “based on true stories”, which results in a certain amount of eye-rolling, cynicism, and the belief that Hollywood screenwriters are creatively-bankrupt, but there are some movies centered around stories that need to be told. Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom is one such movie. The story it tells is one many need to hear—that in a world where violence has reigned and always will reign, one modern man’s ideals of gentleness, peace, and forgiveness prevented a destructive war, and changed the face of an entire country. That the movie opened two and a half weeks after its subject died at age 95 makes it all the more poignant and powerful, important as it already was. Most people my age only really know of Nelson Mandela because his death was front page news after it happened back on December 5; most of us know little of what he did, and definitely don’t know the full scope of it.  That’s why this movie—which derives its subtitle from the late icon’s memoir—is necessary. It’s a shame Mandela couldn’t live to see the film, but even if it was made too soon to feature end titles about his death and memorial services, it’s a fittingly-impressive, memorable monument to a man the world needed, and will surely miss.

Plot

Born and raised in a rural village, Mandela (played as an adult by Idris Elba, and often referred to by his traditional African name, Madiba) leaves home as a young adult and becomes a successful lawyer in downtown Johannesburg, South Africa. Though his wandering eye and long work hours cause his first marriage to collapse, he’s soon seen as a leader in his community for doing what he can to work with strict apartheid laws. After joining in boycotts and marches put on by the African National Congress (ANC), Mandela begins to feel the sting of apartheid and its progressively-stricter segregation laws. Though he desires a comfortable, free life with his second wife, Winnie (a fiery Naomie Harris), Mandela eventually decides he can no longer stand pat while apartheid rules the land. Aggravated by the white police gunning down hundreds of unarmed protestors during the 1960 Sharpeville Massacre, Mandela and the other leaders of the ANC start a campaign of violent attacks, burning their government-issued passports and blowing up government buildings. But, in 1964, Mandela and four of his colleagues are arrested, put on trial, and sentenced to life in prison.

Imprisoned for 18 years on tiny, desolate Robben Island, where his main job is to break rocks into gravel, Mandela can only watch helplessly as his oldest son dies in a motorcycle crash and his wife is arrested, imprisoned, and then becomes more of a terrorist than Nelson himself ever was. As the years pass, a “Free Nelson Mandela” campaign starts, and as Winnie and others continue stoking the fires of violent protest, the white government begins to ponder ways to appease the populace. Soon even the white president of South Africa, F.W. de Klerk, realizes the primary way to avoid civil war may be to free Nelson Mandela and give him a seat of power in the government, and hope his claims of being reformed and wanting peace are as real as they seem.

What Doesn’t Work?

Like last year’s Lincoln, Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom is largely a recitation of true events—it’s not a comedy, a romance, or an adventure film. The slow, history-book-come-to-life feel that was inescapable with Lincoln is very much in evidence here. Detailing events across more than 50 years in Mandela’s life, Long Walk makes key moments soar but, ultimately, until the last half hour, has a hard time gaining traction; you feel the movie’s 139 minutes. Ironically, even with that length, it’s difficult to not feel that some things aren’t given enough time, such as the difficult circumstances of Mandela’s imprisonment on Robben Island (I had to look up the fact that his primary job was breaking rocks into gravel). There are also important things left out completely that would have heightened the emotion (like the fact that Winnie cheated on Nelson while he was in prison). I’m very glad I watched Long Walk to Freedom because I learned a heck of a lot, but this one isn’t high up the entertainment scale.

What Works?

You’ll learn a ton watching Long Walk to Freedom; I certainly did. Mandela had a long, very full life—his journey from city lawyer to civil leader to violent revolutionary to “Father of South Africa” is intriguing; his Christ-like devotion to peace and non-violence (after 27 years of imprisonment) is downright remarkable. If it wasn’t true, there’s no way you’d believe it. The fact that the depicted events are real punches you in the gut several times, from the grief and horror of the Sharpeville massacre to the sudden shock of a telegram bearing the news of Mandela’s son’s death (marvelously-acted by Elba), plus timecards explaining that Winnie spent 16 months in solitary confinement, and Nelson spent 18 years on Robben Island. Plus it’s hard not to get a surge of excitement when Elba utters Mandela’s immortal words, probably the most sacred and hallowed in South Africa’s history (“If it needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die.”).

Best known as a supporting actor in a number of popular movies (Prometheus, Thor, Pacific Rim), Idris Elba has here been gifted with the chance to play one of history’s most important, influential people. That said, in covering so much of Nelson Mandela’s life, Long Walk to Freedom doesn’t exactly present an intimate three-dimensional portrait; there’s so much history to depict that small, character-building moments are few and far between. Do you need to do a whole lot of flashy acting in a movie like this, though? The best thing that can be said about Elba’s work is that you walk out of the movie thinking about Mandela’s life and legacy, not Elba. That is—and should be—high praise for an actor playing an iconic figure, though it probably spells doom for Elba’s chances making the final five in the Best Actor Oscar race. On the contrary, Naomie Harris deserves serious consideration in the Supporting Actress category for a near-brilliant portrayal; the fiery, explosive Winnie looms large over the film, a legend in her own right.

Director Joshua Chadwick deserves a lot of credit for making such a big, sprawling film, which includes plenty of re-enactments (and a great final tracking shot) alongside real video footage and photographs of the period’s key details. The makeup team has also done a superb job—I’m still trying to decide if the final result of re-creating the older Mandela looked more like the everyday Elba or the late icon.

Content

Though Long Walk to Freedom shows some impressive restraint when it comes to a few brief sex scenes (a little goes a long way), there’s a lot of intense moments, whether it’s a martial spat between Mandela and his first wife, harrassment by the Robben Island prison guards, Winnie’s intense arrest-and-imprisonment ordeal, or a great deal of mob violence. There’s real footage of people being mugged and beaten up, and though blood and gory details are fairly minimal, a lot of people get shot and some get set on fire. Human history (especially in Africa) is sadly filled with such things, so viewers should be prepared to face the sorts of intense circumstances Mandela and his contemporaries faced.

Bottom Line

Yes, it was in the works before Nelson Mandela died back at the beginning of the month, and yet, Long Walk to Freedom is a near-perfect tribute to his memory. It’s a long sit, and it’s not the sleekest or most engaging entertainment in its pursuit of historical accuracy, but chances are you’ll learn a lot, and you'll better appreciate a man millions admire and have spent the last month memorializing.

Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom (2013)

Directed by Joshua Chadwick

Screenplay by William Nicholson; based on the autobiography “Long Walk to Freedom” by Nelson Mandela

Rated PG-13

Length: 139 minutes

ANCHORMAN 2

Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues (2013)

Grade: B-

Starring: Will Ferrell, Steve Carell, Paul Rudd, David Koechner, Christina Applegate, Meagan Good, James Marsden and Kristen Wiig

Premise: San Diego newsman Ron Burgundy gets a position on a 24-hour news channel in New York City, where his quirky style of delivering the news becomes an unexpected hit.

Rated PG-13 for profanity, constant crude and sexual humor (including graphic sexual dialogue, racial slurs, and constant innuendos), drug references and brief violent images

Less than a minute after Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues ended and the credits came on, a couple descending the stairs to leave the auditorium passed right by me, and I distinctly heard the woman say: “That was the dumbest movie I’ve ever seen.”  That is a completely valid response to this movie. Like most of star Will Ferrell’s movies, it leaves ideas like serious, logical, reasonable, and sophisticated at the door, or so far outside of the door you don’t even know where they went. It easily comes down on the outrageous side of comedic. It’ll make your jaw drop as it goes in the stupidest and most out-of-nowhere directions it could, ruining even the pretense of being a decent, fulfilling comedy. It was only made for one reason: to make people laugh, and laugh loud. That’s it. Uncontrollable giggles, throaty chuckles, embarrassed snorts and wheeze-inducing cackles—writers Ferrell and Adam McKay (also the director) are out to induce them all…and, in my theater, they did. There’s not a moment in there that’s meant to be taken seriously, or to have any sort of actual impact on an audience. So let me be clear: if you are not a fan of Will Ferrell (perhaps excepting the gentler Christmas comedy Elf), turn and run. RUUUUUN. If your movies need to be serious—or, at least, meaningful—this one is not for you.

If you read this blog consistently, or know my taste in movies, this might seem hypocritical. I’m not much of a fan of Will Ferrell, co-stars Steve Carell and Paul Rudd, or fellow absurdist comedians Jack Black and Adam Sandler. I’m not usually one for a movie full of meaningless laughs and dumb gags. I could easily write a long review thoroughly trashing this movie—I’m tempted to do it, in fact—and I would sleep perfectly fine tonight. But seeing that I just laughed more than I have at the movies since July’s Despicable Me 2, and that there’s little question this movie is more outright entertaining than many of the movies it’s currently sharing cinemas with (The Wolf of Wall Street, 47 Ronin, American Hustle, etc…), I’ll give it a pass. For once, I’ll sing the praises of this sort of absurdist comedy.

Brace yourself.

Plot

Famed mustachioed San Diego newsman Ron Burgundy (Ferrell, as fearless as ever) almost lost his job to his wife, Veronica Corningstone (the terrific Christina Applegate), in the previous movie, and, here, early on, he does. His ego can’t take it, so he leaves his wife and young son (Judah Nelson) and wallows in self-pity. Then, out of nowhere, he gets an offer to be part of a handsomely-paying New York City news program that’s going to break new ground by offering round-the-clock, nonstop news. Ron jumps at the chance, but, of course, he won’t take the new position without his old team: blowhard sportscaster Champ Kind (David Koechner), cocky/horny reporter Brian Fantana (Paul Rudd), and barely-there weather reporter Brick Tamlin (a delightfully-funny Steve Carell). They go to New York, where Ron finds his new boss (Meagan Good) is both female and African-American, and she already has an ace prime time reporter, smug looker Jack Lime (James Marsden). Right away, Ron gets in deep water by impulsively betting Jack that his graveyard shift (2-5 a.m.) will get higher ratings than Jack’s prime time slot, or he’ll go back to San Diego. Somehow, he gets those ratings, and changes the face of TV news forever, when he reports on what America “wants to hear”—that is, sex, cute animals, and patriotism. Soon, he is the ace reporter, getting his channel the best news ratings on TV, garnering nonstop press, gaudy awards, and physical affection from his boss. But when a freak accident threatens to throw Ron’s life out of whack, he’s forced to reconcile with his estranged wife and son, when continuing as a TV newsman might be out of the question.

What Doesn’t Work?

It’s all utter ludicrous, of course. From Ron’s inability to stop saying “black” when he finds out his boss is that, to the way he makes Jack Lime legally change his name to Jack Lame after losing the bet, to the idea that anyone as lost as the dumb-as-a-wall Brick could have a regular job, Anchorman 2 has all the serious intelligence of a second grader. The vast majority of the humor is immature, eye-roll-inducing junk. There are some more biting bits, but when a key late-act plot development is diverted by a lengthy gag that’s just a throwback to the first movie, anyone who doesn’t know the franchise will believe the movie has utterly lost its mind. Despite a grin-inducing explosion of sudden celebrity cameos in the scene (Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, Will Smith, Kirsten Dunst, Sacha Baron Cohen, Harrison Ford, Kanye West and Vince Vaughn among them), you can feel the theater deflate as any attempt at heart or integrity flies out the window. Anchorman 2 is stupid, and even I will acknowledge that. In fact, I doubt I’ll ever watch the whole thing again.

What Works?

That said, this movie has its own special brand of magic. Ferrell keeps you on the edge of your seat, breathlessly waiting for the next politically-incorrect tidbit to make you shout with laughter. Carell has never been this funny, not even on The Office—his mere appearance is often enough to make you chuckle. His scenes with former SNL leading lady Kristen Wiig (as an equally-spacey office attendant/love interest) are quiet, absurd triumphs. As mentioned, Applegate is terrific despite being the only actor who plays it straight for the vast majority of the movie (not an enviable position to be in for this kind of movie, but she works wonders). And serious movie buffs will wonder how the hell Ferrell and McKay managed to convince Liam Neeson and Oscar-winner Marion Cotillard to join in the mix at the third act’s wild crescendo.

This movie will be quoted for years, with some extended bits bordering on sheer genius (Ron’s attempt to cross racial lines and bond with his boss/girlfriend’s family over dinner is edgy comedy at its best, and when Ron goes blind for a chunk of the movie’s second half, his assertion that all his senses have been ruined—he can’t taste, smell, hear or feel anything, either, supposedly—is riotous…”This morning, I tried to brush my teeth with a live lobster!”). Movies like this are often less fun in hindsight than they are in the present, and Anchorman 2 is a gold-mine of little bits you’ll remember and laugh about: “I bottle-fed and raised a shark…” “this white thunder goes deep…” “I give you myself, my 33 ferrets, my student loan and credit card debt…” “I know I’m gonna burn in hell, so I’m not scared at all of burning here on earth.” “Do you wanna go to a date with me?” I’m not saying everyone will find something in this movie amusing, but the teenage boy in most of us will grow breathless with amusement.

Content

This is one of the most sex-minded movies you’ll ever see, so jokes about sex and private parts abound. There’s a fair amount of regular profanity as well, including PG-13’s one allotted F-word. As was the case in the previous movie, a character does lose a hand at one point (though it’s admittedly used humorously, and isn’t exactly gory) and there’s a splash of blood in some footage involving a shark tearing into fish out at sea. Also, if there’s anyone who can manage to fully enjoy the scene in which Ron’s boss tries to seduce him by pinning him to the wall and yelling at him to bark like a dog and meow like a kitten, they certainly have a different sense of humor than me.

Bottom Line

Like most of Will Ferrell’s comedies, it’s more than a little stupid. In fact, it’s a lot stupid. But if you can manage to not look for anything redeeming and just enjoy the ride, Anchorman 2 will make you laugh. And you’ll probably enjoy quoting it with your friends at some time in the future. From what I can tell, that’s the whole point.

Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues (2013)

Directed by Adam McKay

Written by Will Ferrell and Adam McKay

Rated PG-13

Length: 119 minutes

AMERICAN HUSTLE

American Hustle (2013)

Grade: B-

Starring: Christian Bale, Bradley Cooper, Amy Adams, Jeremy Renner and Jennifer Lawrence

Premise: Two con artists are recruited by an FBI agent to help him determine which New Jersey politicians would take under-the-table money in shady business deals.

Rated R for language, strong sexual content and brief violent images

How appropriate is it that the best word to describe a movie called American Hustle is “slick”? Celebrated director David O. Russell’s newest project—about an alleged series of shady deals between the FBI, the mob, and a handful of New Jersey politicians—is just that: slick. It’s headlined by two of the great character actors of this or any era (Christian Bale and Amy Adams), and features another winning turn by the current reigning Princess of Hollywood (Jennifer Lawrence), plops these people down in an era when they can dress with exaggerated glamour and play with exaggerated accents, and even puts a cute emotional spin on their characters’ relationships. But, starting with an opening credit that takes a stab at Hollywood execs everywhere (“Some of this actually happened”), Hustle feels smug and overly-streamlined, stuffed with great actors and tense dialogue while really amounting to…nothing. With a central plotline that doesn’t make sense and a cast full of characters pulling the wool over one another’s’ eyes to one degree or another, Hustle quickly becomes one of those movies that you’d rather just skipped to the end, so you could see how all the double-crossing shakes out. Oh, the actors are good, but, ultimately, you get the feeling this overly-smart movie has no real reason to exist.

Plot

Irving Rosenfeld (Bale, brilliant as usual) became a con artist after watching his business-owner father get duped repeatedly in business deals while Irving was growing up in the Bronx. True, Irving runs a few dry cleaners, but he makes most of his money by taking people’s money in exchange for fake loans designed to pay for repairs to damage he caused. He’s used to beguiling people, but he himself is beguiled when he meets Sydney Prosser (Adams, likewise superbly on form), a stunning redhead who’s good with accents and loves a good jazz tune. They hit it off, and Irving is so taken with Sydney, he admits who he is and what he does, and offers her an in. She takes it, and, soon, they’re raking in the dough. But they ambitious Sydney mouths off to the wrong person while wheeling and dealing, that person being fiery FBI agent Richie DiMaso (Bradley Cooper, working hard to enhance his serious-actor credentials). Sydney winds up in jail where she learns that A) Irving has a young son, and a wife (a scene-stealing Lawrence) back home, and, B) she could go do serious time for fraud. But DiMaso surprises Sydney with an offer: if she and Irving help him find which New Jersey politicians will take under-the-table money in a phony business deal, and help him bust four high-level individuals to enhance his resume, she can go free.

Agreeing to go along to assuage his guilt and help Sydney, Irving soon rubs shoulders with Atlantic City, NJ mayor Carmine Polito (a welcome but underused Jeremy Renner), an old-fashioned, idealistic man of the people, who wants to resuscitate his cultural hotbed town. So Irving, Sydney and Richie pretend to be business partners with an Arab sheik who wants to fund American economics by getting casinos up and running again. This “sheik” wants to make a deal with Polito—give him a thank-you sum up front, and he’ll fund them long-term. Of course, the sheik and the money are both really coming from the FBI. Polito’s enthusiasm seems to make Irving and Sydney’s job easier, but there are chinks in the armor: Irving loves Sydney, but he can’t bring himself to leave his son or his childlike wife; Sydney loves Irving, even though his lies broke her heart, but winning him back proves to be a challenge when his wife turns to be cleverer than everyone thought; Richie DiMaso’s throwing tons of FBI money and resources at the project, aiming to enhance his growing legendary status, while also eyeing the gorgeous Sydney; and, perhaps worst of all, Irving starts bonding with Carmine Polito, a genuinely good guy who wants to do good things for people, and Irving, the lifetime con artist, starts hating the idea that he’s screwing him over.

What Works?

Let’s get the easy stuff out of the way. Adams is one of the most committed and versatile actresses alive, and she proves it again with another portrayal that feels completely original, and doesn’t remind you of any of her previous roles. Bale’s so good you forget he’s acting, that he's not just being. Renner’s decent, though admittedly in the least-interesting role in the movie. And Lawrence, the Girl on Fire herself, proves she can do no wrong, making the most of her limited screen time (you truly wish she had more) as a real firecracker; she’s less a hooker with a heart of gold here than a Bimbo with a Backbone, a glam gal who’s unafraid to do dirty work to get what she wants.

With all these great actors in fine form, Hustle doesn’t have to do a whole lot right. And despite the dense dialogue, the surprise-twist-filled plot offers up some great nuggets of intrigue and amusement. And the movie’s best scene builds a delicious amount of suspense very quickly, as Irving, DiMaso, Polito and the “sheik” sit down with someone interested in getting in on their deal, a casino-owning mafia bigwig. Starting with Irving and DiMaso’s damn, this is going too far expressions and a supposed language-barrier gimmick, and capped off by a perfect big-time celebrity cameo, this scene oozes suspense, and seems to be pointing to a second act full of Scorcese-level dramatic theatre.

What Doesn’t Work?

Alas, Hustle takes the high road and winds to a too quick and too clean resolution. I was hoping that centerpiece scene would be a harbinger of big things to come, that all the confusing, not-that-interesting wheeling and dealing would build into more a crime-drama suspense piece, but it didn’t. I liked some of the directions the screenplay took (Irving feeling guilty about duping nice-guy Polito, Sydney really caring for Irving even after realizing he lied to her, Irving's mouthy wife talking to the wrong people), but the whole time, I felt like I was missing something. The deal the main trio gets into with Polito is never fully explained—reminder: going to the bathroom without anyone to fill you in (if they understand enough to fill you in, that is) would be a big mistake. Partially because it's so difficult to understand, Hustle, at two hours and fifteen minutes, can feel excruciatingly long.

Part of Hustle’s problem is that it just feels like a movie made to try to win Oscars. It really does. With all these well-known, Oscar-nominated actors around, a dense screenplay with some funny dialogue said in funny regional accents while the actors wear flashy outfits probably seemed like a recipe for big-time Academy consideration, and David O. Russell and company will probably get it. Because, let’s face it: who really makes movies like this just for fun? That Oscar-baiting is most exemplified by the work of Bradley Cooper, who, as DiMaso, takes his flamboyant character from last year’s Silver Linings Playbook and ramps up it a few notches, so that DiMaso becomes part mad-dog, part nutcase. As a thespian, Cooper’s clearly able to do what he’s asked, but the character’s annoying and over-the-top, a callow, unlikeable blusterer who snatches the spotlight repeatedly from the more interesting, down-to-earth characters.

Content

They may be said by characters with varying New York accents, but there are F-words aplenty in this screenplay. There’s also a lot of innuendo—groping, heated kissing, cameras lingering on actresses’ cleavage, and so on. But Hustle’s main problem is that the screenplay is too dense, that the content is hard to understand and, as an extension, hard to connect with or care about.

Bottom Line

Flashy but unnecessary, American Hustle features a to-die-for cast and an interesting screenplay, but it’s a little too smart and too obviously Oscar-hungry for its own good.

American Hustle (2013)

Directed by David O. Russell

Screenplay by Eric Singer and David O. Russell

Rated R

Length: 138 minutes

12 YEARS A SLAVE

12 Years a Slave (2013)

Grade: A-

Starring: Chiwetel Ejiofor, Michael Fassbender, Benedict Cumberbatch, Lupita Nyong’o, Paul Dano, Sarah Paulson, Paul Giamatti and Brad Pitt

Premise: A free black man living in New York is kidnapped and sold into slavery in the South, where he is respected by some whites and abused by others. Years pass, but he never gives up hope of regaining freedom and reuniting with his family.

Rated R for intense, disturbing thematic material including constant racial slurs and profanity, scenes of beatings and torture, nudity, and a scene of rape

This time every year, it’s hard for serious movie fans to walk into certain movies without gaudy expectations. Why? Because ads reading For Your Consideration are posted all over the Internet, critics lavish affection on movies in lengthy, four-star reviews, and terms like Best Actor, Best Actress, and Best Picture of the Year are thrown around like “please” and “thank you”. This is not only the season to be jolly, but it’s also the time for movies striving to win the coveted Academy Awards to fill multiplexes, usually with tons of advance buzz. So it can be hard to take a movie at face value, to appreciate it for what it is, and not what it “should” be, or what its chances at winning an Academy Award are.

Try as I might, I couldn’t help but bring such expectations into my screening of 12 Years A Slave. Based on a real man’s horrific experience of being kidnapped and forced into the slave trade, where he endured endless prejudice and beatings and mistreatment, when he had a family and a home and a decent living as a free man in upstate New York, 12 Years has already been labeled The Slavery Movie, One of the Most Powerful Movies You’ll Ever See, A Sure Thing for the Oscar, etc… Knowing this, I walked into the theatre braced for an explosive, epic, searing, raw film that would knock my socks off, maybe reduce me to tears, and leave me shaken and changed. Yet 12 Years is not exploitative; it’s not the in-your-face spectacle some have claimed. It’s undeniably powerful, and certainly haunting, but no one will watch the first 10, 20, or even 40 minutes and think it’s the best or most powerful movie ever. Director Steve McQueen’s film builds slowly. It certainly documents moving, powerful moments, and makes all the horrors of the abuse and dehumanization of the slave trade real, but it doesn’t throw it all in your face—no one earns an Oscar within the first five minutes. But McQueen’s real accomplishment is just that: immersing you in the world of slavery, and one man’s nightmarish experience, by showing you How It Was. 12 Years’ greatest achievement might be its matter-of-factness. This kind of material shouldn’t be matter-of-fact, but slavery was back then, and what might be most affecting about the movie is how it has the ability to make each and every audience member think “that could’ve been me. What would I have been like if I’d lived back then?”

Plot

In 1841, Solomon Northup (a quietly-superb Chiwetel Ejiofor; that’s Chew-ee-tell Edge-ee-oh-four) is a free man. He has a house, a wife and two kids, and a great reputation as a gentleman and an expert violinist. When he’s introduced to two men who say they’re part of a traveling circus and need a violin player, he’s intrigued. But his hangover after a night of drinking and talking with the men is a terrible one; he wakes up shackled in a dark cellar, and the two unfamiliar men who walk in refuse to believe his claims that he’s a free man, and they beat him bloody. Within days, a shell-shocked Solomon is at an auction, being bought as property by a wealthy Southern gentleman named Ford (Benedict Cumberbatch). Solomon is agreeable enough to do some work around the house, and his quiet intelligence earns his master’s respect. But even that affable master won’t listen to his claims that he’s a free man, and drops him like a bad habit after he has a run-in with one of his work masters. Sold so Ford can avoid embarrassment or public scandal, Solomon (now re-named Platt) becomes the property of Edwin Epps (an electric Michael Fassbender), who, even among slavers, has a reputation as a hard man. A drinker who uses Bible scriptures about servants and masters as excuses to whip his slaves, and who wakes them up in the middle of the night to dance for his enjoyment, Epps is a pitiless man. Most unfortunately, Solomon catches Epps’ eye in the worst way—he grows close to Patsey (Kenyan-born newcomer Lupita Nyong’o), a gorgeous, well-mannered slave Epps routinely lusts for. Dealing with more beating and abuse than ever, Solomon begins to despair, fearing a chance to return to his family may never come.

What Doesn’t Work?

12 Years begins slowly, starting with a random clip about two-thirds of the way through Solomon’s time as a slave before diverting back to the beginning. Early on, Ejiofor’s performance is surprisingly reserved—Solomon doesn’t try to move heaven and earth to try to get back his freedom; he seemed far too submissive. About the entire first half of the film seemed to lack a sharper, fiercer emotion, despite all the drama going on. And yes, that slower pace and more muted reactions made me start to wonder if the movie and its actors were overrated.

What Works?

Yes, 12 Years turned out to be one of those movies that’s just decent enough to hold your attention for an hour and a half, and then grabs you by the throat in a moment of high emotion, and soars from there. At least, that was my experience—what with the beatings and the whipping and other dramatic circumstances, I wouldn’t be surprised if other viewers were stimulated far earlier than me. But looking back, I’m again obliged to think the British-born McQueen’s approach was superb—to avoid over-stimulating the viewer, to avoid scaring them with Passion of the Christ-style horrors being enacted every minute, but to immerse them in that world. That’s the genius of his directing, and of Ejiofor’s quiet, largely reserved performance. It’s a sad fact of American history after all—for centuries, blacks were slaves, viewed as property and less-than-human, and whites were allowed to treat them absolutely however they wanted. That’s how the movie depicts it. As sympathetic twenty-first century moviegoers, we’re undoubtedly inclined to think of the whites as evil and the blacks as good, but the movie, largely, refuses to take sides. It’s that quiet, unbiased power that’s so impressive.

I knew Ejiofor to be one of the favorites for the Best Actor Oscar going in, and I support that notion going out. It’s true his performance isn’t a super-charismatic one—Solomon is a regular man thrust into what were, then, regular circumstances; he’s not a freedom fighter, the leader of a revolution, or an abolitionist. Together with McQueen’s level, unflinching camera, Ejiofor brings us the horror of Solomon’s ordeal early on, yelling and moaning and panting with pain during his first beating, which is shown in its entirety (the devices used being a heavy wooden paddle and a cat-o-nine-tails). But that’s largely as loud and showy as Ejiofor’s portrayal gets. That said, the actor’s big, dark eyes are veritable wells of emotion, and he’s able to wordlessly show Solomon’s shock, his pain, his longsuffering, his fear, and his desperation. His late meeting with the man who becomes his savior (a Canadian carpenter played by an nicely-understated Brad Pitt) is rife with hope suppressed by reality, pain, and hard-taught pessimism. And the moment where he’s able to claim his identity as a free man is thrilling in its release, for Solomon and for the audience.

The entire cast is very good. The big stars like Pitt and Benedict Cumberbatch are solid in smaller roles, but each actor has their part to play. Paul Giamatti helps the movie move into its second act with a part as a clipped, objective slave-trader who fondles and slaps slaves and thinks nothing of separating a mother from her children. A typically-oily Paul Dano is perfectly hateful as a work captain nemesis of Solomon’s (Dano’s biggest contribution to the film might be a long, crude song he sings in his first appearance; the song, rife with racial slurs, is played for four solid minutes and, to my intense chagrin and embarrassment, got stuck in my head). Another Oscar favorite, Lupita Nyong’o, tugs relentlessly at the heartstrings as Patsey, who’s so full of life and love but doesn’t have Solomon’s chance of freedom. And Sarah Paulson is sickeningly-poisonous as Edwin Epps’ demeaning, jealous wife.

Epps himself is played by the new-age Magneto, Michael Fassbender, who starred in McQueen’s first two movies (2008’s Hunger and 2011’s Shame) and who is, clearly, about as fearless as actors come. The role of Epps, though showy, is an unenviable one, a portrait of a man who’s cruelly-calloused and utterly-pathetic at the same time. One minute he’s staggering around, drunk, being coldly insulted by his wife, who threatens to leave him; the next he’s telling that wife she can leave if she wants—she doesn’t satisfy him anyway—and he's ordering his slaves to be beaten senseless. Together with Nyong’o, Fassbender stars in one of the most intimate rape scenes ever; it’s not a graphic scene at all, but the two actors’ faces, captured in close-up, will stick in your mind.

Content

Well, other than the whole vaguely-racist thing…12 Years A Slave is a tough movie, from countless utterances of the “n” word to the lingering shot of a woman’s back bursting under repeated whip lashes. All the nudity in the film is unglamorous and used in a non-sexual context (slaves are put on display at the auction in which Solomon is sold), but it’s full frontal, for male and female. Again, what’s most shocking about 12 Years is the un-shocking way it portrays all these hard-to-comprehend ways in which people once talked to and treated others on a regular basis. McQueen’s camera doesn’t shy away. If your eyes might, you may want to reconsider watching this one.

Bottom Line

It builds slowly, but 12 Years A Slave is a movie of immense power, full of gripping performances and lingering images that will stay with you. It’ll probably be a Best Picture Oscar contender, and it should.

12 Years A Slave (2013)

Directed by Steve McQueen

Screenplay by John Ridley; based on the memoir '12 Years A Slave' by Solomon Northup

Rated R

Length: 134 minutes

VARSITY BLUES and MAJOR LEAGUE

Major. Blues.  –A Dual Review

Dated Sports Ensemble Flicks Provide Nostalgia, Heart, and Humor (Intentional and, uh, Unintentional)

Varsity Blues (1999)

Starring: James Van Der Beek, Jon Voight, Ron Lester, Paul Walker, Thomas F. Duffy, Scott Caan, Amy Smart and Ali Larter

Rated R for language (including graphic sexual references), strong sexual content including graphic nudity, and depictions of alcohol abuse

Nine days ago, while most people were watching Auburn stun undefeated, number 1 Alabama with the unforgettable finish to the Iron Bowl, a news tidbit hit the web that brought a lot of people pause: Paul Walker had died. Walker, best known for his recurring role in the blockbuster Fast and Furious franchise, was 40 when he was killed, along with his friend Roger Rodas, in a car crash in Santa Clarita, California. Walker wasn’t a particularly decorated actor in the way of awards, but his prominent role in the six-film street-racing franchise—plus his appearances in films as varied as teen romcom She’s All That, melodrama Pleastantville, and real-life war drama Flags of Our Fathers—made him someone almost everyone has seen. His death has cast speculation over the future of the ongoing F&F series (which was halfway through filming its seventh installment), and brought forth an outpouring of love and affection for the actor and his work across three decades.

One film I remembered Walker in was the high school football dramedy Varsity Blues, a film I saw on TV years back. I remembered seeing him play the star quarterback of a high school football team, whose untimely injury opened the door for a perpetual second-stringer (James Van Der Beek, of Dawson’s Creek) to strut his stuff on the gridiron. When I looked up the film, I discovered it featured a whole host of then-unknowns I’d seen in multiple other movies since, so I decided to re-watch it.

Walker didn’t have a very large role in Varsity Blues, which, happily, keeps his memory from being tarnished. Blues, an MTV production, is not a terrible movie but a horribly-misguided one. It has the bare bones and basic ideas of a decent story, but its outlandish portrayal of high school life and its unbelievably-caricatured depictions of supporting characters made it a grating movie to watch.

The main character is Van Der Beek’s Jonathan “Mox” Moxon, a high school senior in West Canaan, Texas, one of those little Midwest towns where, every Friday night, time stops and eyes turn to the bright lights of the high school football gridiron. Though he’s been friends with the team’s best players all his life, Mox is a benchwarmer, receiving none of the accolades showered on star quarterback Lance Harbor (Walker, just fine in a straight role) and legendary coach Bud Kilmer (a scenery-chewing Jon Voight). But when Lance is horribly injured during a big game late in the season, Mox becomes the man, an idol to the townspeople and leader, on and off the field, to his buddies Billy Bob (Ron Lester), Tweeder (Scott Caan), and Wendell (Eliel Swinton). Mox’s newfound fame brings him affection and praise from his no-nonsense father (Thomas F. Duffy), creates separation between him and his down-to-earth girlfriend (Amy Smart), and brings him, for the first time, nose-to-nose to the unpleasant Kilmer, a win-at-all costs fanatic driven by his own growing legend.

See? That doesn’t sound so bad! How could they mess that up? The main way they do it is with cheap characterizations: the rotund Billy Bob is the goony fat kid, stuffing his face, raising a pet pig named Bacon, and prone to crying at the slightest provocation (Lester is nails-on-the-chalkboard annoying in the role); Caan’s star wide receiver Tweeter is an equally-irritating hillbilly redneck who thinks of/talks about nothing but sex and drinking; Swinton’s star running back Wendell is the token black kid, who is a great athlete with a chip on his shoulder because the prejudiced coach doesn’t give him the ball. And that’s not to mention the star quarterback’s cheerleader girlfriend, played by a she-should-be-embarrassed Ali Larter as, essentially, a manipulative whore with supposedly good intentions (her famous whipped-cream bikini is kinda neat-looking, though). And way too much time is given to an insipid subplot in which Mox’s kid brother (Joe Pichler) is obsessed with trying different religions.

The football action is cliché, the emotion is cheap, and there are some laughs to be had, but most of them are at the movie’s expense. Yeah, it’s kinda cool to look back and see all these famous faces so early in their careers, though, to be honest, most of them are less well-known now than they were at the time—which the exception of Oscar-winner Voight, who makes the controlling coach a detestable villain, the late Walker has proven to be by far the most successful. Van Der Beek—who’s decent as Mox—hasn’t done anything of note besides this and Dawson's Creek; Caan, Lester and Larter are all stuck on TV, and Amy Smart is trying hard to build off her appearances in moderately-successful films like The Butterfly Effect and Crank.

Ultimately, this for-high-schoolers movie has largely been done—better—other times, so you should save your time. Walker’s only in a handful of scenes, with about a dozen lines. If you want to reminisce about his work and honor his memory, I could recommend several other movies instead.

Grade: C-

Major League (1989)

Starring: Tom Berenger, Charlie Sheen, Corbin Bensen, Bob Uecker, Margaret Whitton, James Gannon, Rene Russo, Wesley Snipes and Dennis Haysbert

Rated R for language and some sexual content

Oh, the irony. I went out looking for Varsity Blues, which turned out to be a pretty crappy movie, and the movie I got in tandem in the twofer combo pack, Major League, turned out to be pretty great. Also ironic: this smart-aleck comedy also features a bunch of famous faces, who, while no longer at their peaks, have all accomplished a good deal more than the glowing-with-youth cast of Varsity Blues.

Baseball movies have been in vogue lately, with Oscar-nominee Moneyball and box-office hit 42 making headlines in the last few years, but Major League is better than both those films in several key ways: it’s fictional, so they can do whatever they want without just following the boring script of history, this movie actually cares about the sport of baseball, not the just the business/politics surrounding it, and it actually cares about the players on the field. Also, the humor is wry rather than splattered all over the screen (as in Blues), and the characters and emotion are better-written and more subtle. It is a barrel of laughs, though.

In Major League, the owner of the long-suffering Cleveland Indians franchise has just died, leaving ownership of the team to his rich, selfish widow (Margaret Whitton). The new owner doesn’t care at all for Cleveland, and merely wants the team to stink, to be so bad and uninspiring that revenue drops enough to allow a move to Miami and its tropical climate. She’s so committed to sinking the ship that she wants nothing but rejects as the major players—a hangdog minor league coach (James Gannon) as the manager, a creaky, over-the-hill veteran (Tom Berenger) as the catcher, an ex-con (Charlie Sheen) as the hot younger pitcher, a preening self-promoter (Corbin Bensen) as the third baseman, and other misfits. Sure enough, the early weeks of the season are a comedy of errors, but, despite the owner’s attempts to make them so miserable they don’t even try (they get a creaky old buss, a taped-up, propeller-driven plane, and no hot-water showers), they start coming together. After all, the catcher’s getting a second wind after being reunited with the love of his life (Rene Russo), the pitcher wants to make something of his life, two lame duck outfielders (Wesley Snipes and Dennis Haysbert) are finding themselves, and the manager sees the city rallying. Suddenly, they’re neck and neck with the New York Yankees for first place in the league, and, despite the owner’s hopes for a losing season, they all want the big prize.

Major League was funny, but it wasn’t dumb, and it had heart. You really feel for Berenger as he tries to patch things up with his old flame, Russo, and boy, is it a treat to see guys like Snipes and Haysbert so young (in particular, seeing Haysbert as a voodoo-worshipping nut when he’s now best-known as the dignified Allstate Insurance pitchman is a real treat). There’s enough baseball action to keep fans interested, the announcer (Bob Uecker) is a degrading hoot, and the end is riotously uplifting. As opposed to Blues, League’s closing shot of the cast together, celebrating, makes you smile because you know big things are in store for all of the actors:

-Berenger: already an Oscar nominee after his classic villainous turn in Platoon, won an Emmy last year for his role in the Hatfields & McCoys miniseries and has appeared in dozens of films, including the groundbreaking blockbuster Inception

-Sheen: had already appeared in two of the ‘80s most important movies (Platoon and Wall Street), went on to star in TV’s #1 comedy, Two and A Half Men, for several years. Yeah, he made headlines for getting kicked off the show by acting an a**, he parlayed that publicity into a new hilarious show, Anger Management.

-Russo: played Mel Gibson’s love interest in the 3^rd and 4^th Lethal Weapon movies, Clint Eastwood’s love interest in the well-reviewed thriller In the Line of Fire, Pierce Brosnan’s romantic foil in The Thomas Crown Affair, and recently enjoyed an expanded role as the God of Thunder’s mother in Thor: The Dark World

-Snipes: starred in the decent Fugitive sequel, U.S. Marshalls, and made tons of movies even before his popular Blade vampire trilogy

-Well, you already know what Haysbert is best known for. "So, get Allstate..." ;)

Grade: B+

Varsity Blues (1999)

Directed by Brian Robbins

Screenplay by W. Peter Iliff

Rated R

Length: 104 minutes

Major League (1989)

Written and Directed by David S. Ward

Rated R

Length: 106 minutes

OUT OF THE FURNACE

Out of the Furnace (2013)

Grade: B

Starring: Christian Bale, Woody Harrelson, Casey Affleck, Forest Whitaker, Willem Dafoe, Zoe Saldana and Sam Shephard

Premise: A steel mill worker trying to guide his loose cannon younger brother onto a better path must deal with strict law enforcement officers and dangerous thugs when his brother goes missing.

Rated R for strong, brutal violence, bloody/disturbing images, strong language and graphic depictions of drug use

Out of the Furnace starts in the most random and least-endearing way possible. The trailers promise an emotion-packed drama about two brothers, blue-collar everyman Russell (Christian Bale) and his younger sibling, tortured Iraq War vet Rodney (Casey Affleck). Yet the movie doesn’t start with either of them. It opens instead with Woody Harrelson, a fine actor who here cashes in on his unique look and unglamorous aura to play a drug-addled thug with a mean streak. This thug—who makes Harrelson’s wisecracking but weary Hunger Games mentor look as jolly as Santa Claus by comparison—rough talks a drive-in-movie date as the movie opens. He insults her, he curses at her, he starts force-feeding her and choking her, and, when a Good Samaritan tries to intervene, he beats the bejeezus out of him. With the man lying bleeding in the dirt, Harrelson’s thug opens his passenger door, flings his date out onto the ground, and then drives off.

It was a gutsy call, opening the movie like that. We’ll see Harrelson’s thug again, and we’ll know what kind of person he is thanks largely to that unnerving character intro, but that scene isn’t directly related to the rest of the plot at all. It’s dark, it’s edgy, and it evokes a slight feel of disbelief—really, they chose to open this movie like that?

That, in a nutshell, is my reaction to Out of the Furnace. With an intriguing premise and a great cast of do-anything character actors, this movie could have been a genuine crowd-pleaser if made in a relatively straight-forward manner. Furnace is instead unevenly-paced, frenetically-edited, and made in such a way that there’s a feeling of disconnect. I was underwhelmed, watching it. I was surprised there wasn’t more dialogue, surprised that the main characters and their relationships weren’t fleshed out more. The movie seemed at times too fast and, at others, too slow. Afterward, however, I found myself thinking back with enthusiasm and interest on some of the dramatic highpoints, some of the dialogue, and some of the acting. In fact, if taken as the sum of all its best parts, Out of the Furnace is a great movie. As a whole, I would say it’s not a movie I’d quickly recommend, but it is one I’d like to see again.

Plot

A lifer at the local steel mill like his dad before him, Russell Baze (Bale) only really has two goals in his life: to start a family with his gorgeous girlfriend Lena (Zoe Saldana) and help his younger brother, Rodney (Affleck), settle down and live a fulfilling life. The former seems like a given until a devastating car accident throws Russell’s life out of whack, resulting in his girlfriend leaving him for the town’s stalwart police chief (Forest Whitaker). The latter soon becomes an obsession—Russell takes his brother in, offers to get him a steady job at the mill, and even goes out of his way to pay some of Rodney's gambling debts. But, one day, Rodney disappears; no one knows where he is. Then the police find the truth and tell Russell: in a desperate effort to siphon off the simmering rage and pain of his wartime experience—and to pay off his debts—Rodney talked local barkeep/gangster Jack Petty (Willem Dafoe) into getting him a bout in a shady bare-fisted boxing ring in the New Jersey backwoods. The rumor is Rodney was then asked to take a dive to win cold-blooded kingpin Harlan DeGroat (Harrelson) some money. But Rodney, full of pride and self-resiliency, has never been one to take a dive. As the days pass and the local police seem to be dragging their feet, Russell decides to go into those woods himself, and do whatever he can to go bring his brother back.

What Works?

Happily, Out of the Furnace did not spill all its secrets in its trailer. In fact, it divulged very few of the main ones; it’s a richer and more emotionally-complex experience than it looked to be. And though the movie feels over-edited—there’s nary a scene in the movie that seems to begin and end in the right place—all the most important images stick, thanks to superb camerawork from head cinematographer Masanobu Takayanagi.

The actors all do a lot with a little. Furnace doesn’t feature Christian Bale’s best or most compelling performance, but the actor proves, once again, that he can do pretty much anything; his emotional reaction to his ex-girlfriend’s admission that she’s pregnant by her new boyfriend is a powerful one, a beautiful encapsulation of dreams flushed away. As the tortured younger sibling, Casey Affleck is superb, convincingly conveying years of pain, rage and grief. Based on his work here, I’d say he’s unquestionably the more talented Affleck brother. Harrelson revels in his baddie’s badness, making Harlan one mean, gnarly sonofabitch, and Forest Whitaker, Willem Dafoe and Zoe Saldana all make memorable impressions in smaller roles.

What Doesn’t Work?

That beginning, for one. No offense to Harrelson or any of the other actors in it, but that was one ugly note to start on, no matter how “true to the character” it may have been. The movie also ends about two minutes later than it should’ve, adding a hint of a loose strand to take the punch out of a great dramatic climax. Furnace could also make do with more dialogue in a few key scenes (particularly one encounter between Bale and Saldana’s characters), and a few other scenes appear to have been added for no real reason. Out of the Furnace is largely a very good movie (as I mentioned, I keep looking back to certain scenes and finding myself impressed), but I can’t shake the feeling that with that cast, and that premise, they could’ve made a really incredible, can’t miss feature.

Content

Lots and lots (and lots) of cursing. Bloody images that include guys pounding each other to a pulp in street fights and a freshly-skinned deer that was the victim of a Baze family hunting trip. Surprisingly, there’s no suggestive material other than a brief cuddle between Russell and Lena, but this is one dark movie, also featuring a few graphic scenes of people preparing/getting buzzed off drugs. In other words, Out of the Furnace isn’t much of a date movie.

Bottom Line

Don’t go in expecting Taken (“give me back my brother now, or I will find you, and I will kill you”); this isn’t an action movie. It can be slow, but with a solid cast and an effective storyline, Out of the Furnace is an admirable suspense thriller.

Out of the Furnace (2013)

Directed by Scott Cooper

Screenplay by Brad Ingelsby and Scott Cooper

Rated R

Length: 116 minutes

THE HUNGER GAMES: CATCHING FIRE

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire (2013)

Grade: A

Starring: Jennifer Lawrence, Josh Hutcherson, Liam Hemsworth, Woody Harrelson, Donald Sutherland, Elizabeth Banks, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Sam Claflin, Stanley Tucci, Lenny Kravitz, Jeffrey Wright and Jena Malone

Premise: Katniss Everdeen deals with deadly traps and shaky alliances in a new hunger games as she fights to protect her closest ally, Peeta.

Rated PG-13 for violence and intense action, blood and disturbing images, intense emotional content and brief language

The movie posters and marketing campaign for The Hunger Games: Catching Fire state clearly that the star of the film is Jennifer Lawrence. Ask anyone on their way to the theater to see the movie, and they’ll tell you the same thing. They’re wrong. No offense to the 23-year-old Oscar-winning actress, who headlines this film with a solid performance, but after seeing this movie, I’m convinced the real star is Director Francis Lawrence (no relation). Hired when the first Hunger Games’ director, Gary Ross, dropped out due to scheduling conflicts, Mr. Lawrence has made a sequel that is not only up to par, but arguably superior to the first movie in every way. Faster, sleeker, and more consistently entertaining, Catching Fire makes its predecessor look like an ambitious home movie, with its constant shaky-cam effects and uneven pace.  This second installment is also one of the best movie adaptations of a book I’ve ever seen (I’ve read Catching Fire, the second book in Suzanne Collins’ Hunger Games trilogy, about five times, and while watching the movie I thought: they couldn’t possibly make a better movie of Catching Fire; this is literally almost perfect).

Ross’s Hunger Games had no shortage of admirers, what with over $400 million in its domestic coffers, but Catching Fire is an immediate, unmistakable improvement, and one of the year’s best movies so far.

Plot:

As one half of the winning duo of the 74^th Hunger Games, teenager Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) has become an instant celebrity. Her family now lives in a mansion instead of a shack, she has more money than she knows what to do with, and everyone in her world knows her name. But her life is not without its troubles. Peeta (Josh Hutcherson)—the boy she pretended to love in order to convince the makers of the Hunger Games to let two people win instead of one—has largely turned his back on her, offended and hurt by what he perceives as nothing but acting. And that’s child’s play compared to the grudge being nursed by President Snow (Donald Sutherland), the head of the country of Panem, who saw Katniss’ actions in the Games as direct defiance of his regime and all it stands for. He considers her responsible for rebellions that have started across the twelve districts in his orderly nation, and he’s hired a new security advisor (Philip Seymour Hoffman) to think of ways to manipulate and harm Katniss. Desperate to protect herself and her family, Katniss considers running away and living a life in hiding, but the stubbornness and affection of her best friend and sort-of crush, Gale (Liam Hemsworth), stops her.

Then, in an unprecedented development, Katniss is forced to compete in the Hunger Games again, when the 75^th anniversary Games is turned into a sort of All-Star affair, with previous winners as the participants. Katniss is automatically selected, but, when her drunken mentor Haymitch (Woody Harrelson) is selected as her male counterpart, Peeta volunteers in his place. Touched, Katniss makes a secret deal with Haymitch, who will be on the outside looking in at the Games: make sure Peeta’s the one who lives. She even vows to do whatever she can--including sacrificing her own life--to ensure his survival. But even that might not be enough, because the new Games turns out to be more terrifying than any other—the arena is rigged with deadly booby traps like invisible force fields, lightning storms, unstoppable tidal waves and vicious animals. And then there are the other contestants, all former winners and, as such, proven killers, including the swaggering, confident Finnick (Sam Clalfin), cunning, fierce Johanna (Jena Malone), wicked-smart Beetee (Jeffrey Wright), and hulking Brutus (Bruno Gunn). Katniss has skill, and plenty of courage, but, as ever with the Hunger Games, there can only be one winner.

What Works?

This might be extravagant praise, but Catching Fire might be one of the most accessible movies ever made. Anyone can walk into the theater, watch it, and appreciate it, regardless of their familiarity with the source text. The direction is so assured, and the script so complete, that those who haven’t read the book won’t be missing anything (though a repeat viewing of the first movie might be necessary, as this installment hits the ground running). And devotees of Collins’ book will be enraptured, as nearly every scene has a direct basis in the text, and more than half the dialogue has been retained verbatim. As was the case in the first Hunger Games, the only significant things that have been added are a handful of behind-the-scenes sequences with President Snow, as he sits in his office watching the Games and mulling over how to exploit/demean/kill Katniss next. These scenes weren’t possible in the book because of the first-person viewpoint; they’re good for quick catch-up exposition for those who didn’t read the book (they’re certainly not hindrances, what with Sutherland’s superb, quietly-calculating performance). 

>>>NOTE: You may know me as an incredible stickler for movie adaptations being faithful to the books. Catching Fire adheres far more closely to its source text than any of the Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings or Hobbit movies, and it actually improves on a number of things from the book. Some lengthy scenes have been shortened and made more direct, some things are conveyed in a line or two of dialogue instead of pages of thought, and some of the action has been streamlined (the last third of the book has been brilliantly condensed here to leave out all unnecessary details). Ultimately, not only did it enter this reviewer’s mind that this is the best Catching Fire movie they could’ve made; it also entered my mind that this could be the (extremely) rare movie that’s actually better than the book it’s based on. I won’t say that outright, but anyone who does has a valid argument.

In this age of blockbusters filled to the brim with overwhelming CGI and constant shaky-cam-style photography, Catching Fire looks great. The cityscape of the Capitol is fuller, more convincing, and more impressive this time. The outlandish outfits worn by the well-to-do in the Capitol are as incredibly elaborate and eye-catching as ever. The arena looks great, the cinematography is incredible (the camera captures some images perfectly) and three of the central action sequences in the Games have been made into three of this year’s most awesome and invigorating sequences (in particular, there’s a bit with a flock of attacking birds that comes straight from a Hitchcockian nightmare). In other words, they did a darn good job making this movie.

No, The Hunger Games: Catching Fire isn’t really an actors’ movie, but the iconic characters are all brought to life by fully-committed performers. In the biggest and juiciest role, Jennifer Lawrence acquits herself well. Despite her Best Actress Oscar win last year, I have doubts about the overall range of her acting ability, but she’s found a perfect role for her talents in Katniss, and she can turn on the hysterics like few others (she can shake an audience to its core--and does it--with her crying/screaming antics in the big moments here). No one else has as showy a role as Lawrence, but that may be because some of them don’t even appear to be acting. I wrote in my review of the original Games movie that the part of Peeta fits Josh Hutcherson “like a glove”, and I stand by that statement after a second go-around; he just is the genuinely kind-hearted boy-next-door. Similarly, Woody Harrelson just is the cynical layabout Haymitch, Lenny Kravitz just is the warm, soothing Cinna, and even Liam Hemsworth is easily-convincing as the sturdy Gale. I was more impressed with Elizabeth Banks this go-round--the actress is constantly peering out from behind walls of makeup and from under eye-watering wigs, but her character, Effie Trinket, is actually given real emotion and depth, a step up from the comic relief she provides on the page. As mentioned, Sutherland is great; another returner from the first film, Stanley Tucci, proves a delightful fountain of energy, and newcomer Philip Seymour Hoffman lacks a really showy role but makes up for it just by playing convincingly smarter than everybody else. The chief new Games contender, Finnick, is not only well-captured by Sam Claflin, but the actor adds an edgier, more sardonic bite to his dialogure (and when Finnick’s façade cracks over the fate of an ally, Claflin makes you remember it). Lastly, a perfectly-cast Jena Malone makes a great impression in a short time as feisty tough girl Johanna.

What Doesn’t Work?

Uhhh…was there anything? Well, I won’t deny Catching Fire is long—it feels like two-and-a-half hours, and despite the excitement happening, it can drag. Happily, all of its slowest moments happen early on—about ten minutes in comes a scene between Donald Sutherland and Jennifer Lawrence that crackles with sharp dialogue, and that rights the ship. This isn't a perfect movie, but I can't pretend I have many beefs with it.

Content

There are a few cuss words (including two actually bleeped out by the movie), and a few brief innuendos, but, of course, what makes this movie tough is the majority of its content. There’s less people-on-people fighting this time around, but still plenty of close-ups of people who are dead, dying, or severely injured. There are a lot of scary or unsettling moments, whether that’s attacking animals, a pounding soundtrack, or Jennifer Lawrence screaming in distress. It’s true that the books were aimed at teenagers, but I would advise parents with younger kids to see it first themselves (or watch the first one, because it’s the same sort of general content).

Bottom Line (seriously, this is it)

Whew, that was a lot. A great book turned into a movie that might actually be outright better than the book? Have I ever written anything like that on this blog before? Seriously, Hunger Games: Catching Fire is a terrific adaptation, a considerably better movie than its predecessor, and easily the best big-budget spectacle in a year full of half-hearted disappointments. And it really does make you want to see the next one right now.

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire (2013)

Directed by Francis Lawrence

Written by Simon Beaufoy and Michael Arndt; Based on the novel by Suzanne Collins

Rated PG-13

Length: 146 minutes