KICK-ASS 2

Kick-Ass 2 (2013)

Grade: B+
Starring: Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Chloe Grace Moretz, Christopher Mintz-Plasse, Morris Chestnut, Jim Carrey, Garrett M. Brown and Donald Faison
Premise: Teens Dave Lizewski and Mindy Macready struggle to keep their self-made superhero past in the past, even as an old rival plots deadly revenge.

Rated R for strong bloody violence, constant profanity (including graphic sexual references), brief nudity, crude humor and some disturbing images

If it hadn’t come out in the weeks following the surprisingly-decent Wolverine and the terrific Elysium, I might praise Kick-Ass 2 for being the first live-action summer movie truly worth watching since June’s Man of Steel. That said, in a landscape filled with tame PG-13 blockbusters that shy away from blood, carefully count profanities, and act as though cataclysmic events have little to no effect on the average person, this no-holds-barred, very R-rated comic book adaptation sequel works like a shot of adrenaline, waking up the daring, bored moviegoer. A big fan of the rude and crude 2010 original, I knew Kick-Ass 2 would be a volatile cocktail of a movie, daring you to laugh at cold-cocked gender and racist stereotypes, thrilling you with elaborately-staged action sequences and also bringing you back to earth with grisly reminders of the real-life consequences of violence. It also invites you to laugh, gasp, or do whatever you might do upon learning that one of the major characters decides—early in the film—that he wants to now and forever be referred to by the least family-friendly word that ever included both an M and an F.

 For those who really care, I would say that this sequel—the rare 2^nd movie that doesn’t even slightly attempt to leave the door open for a 3^rd—can’t quite match the original’s freshness and audacity, but it’s also a funny, thrilling, and surprisingly-compelling movie that earns its keep.

Story:

Dorky teen Dave Lizewski (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) has a stunning girlfriend (Lyndsey Fonseca), a devoted best pal (Clark Duke), and a caring, admiring father (Garrett M. Brown), but after offing a bloodthirsty mob boss and barely escaping death at the end of the first movie, his life seems to drag. Sure, he only bought a body suit and a pair of batons, and did little actual crime-stopping, but his dalliance as self-made superhero Kick-Ass was a constant adrenaline rush. And he’s not the only one trying to adjust—now-parentless little ninja Mindy Macready, aka Hit Girl (Chloe Grace Moretz), tries to abide by the rules laid down by her kindly-stern guardian (Morris Chestnut) and live a normal teen high-schooler life, but she can’t settle down, either. After all, her whole life has seemed to build up to more than trying to get in with snotty queen bee Brooke (Claudia Lee).

These two, who saved each other’s lives several times over in the previous film, go their separate ways. When a knack for scalding wit and supreme fitness actually gets her in with the popular girls, Mindy suddenly finds it wonderfully easy to not be Hit Girl. Dave, meanwhile, falls for an invitation to don the suit again, meet up and join forces with another goofy-looking self-made hero, Doctor Gravity (Donald Faison). The two make an excellent team wielding bat and batons against thugs on the street, and they soon receive an invite to merge with the Nirvana of geeky superhero-dom, Justice Forever, a devoted brotherhood of self-made heroes led by a strutting, born-again mafia enforcer who calls himself Colonel Stars and Stripes (Jim Carrey). This “alliance”—which happens to include the hot-to-trot sister of a murdered socialite (Lindy Booth), as well as Dave’s good friend Tommy (Duke), dressed as generic superhero “Battle Guy”—becomes a hit, running the gauntlet from helping out at soup kitchens to breaking down the door of a covert sex trafficker’s den. There’s trouble in paradise, though. Chris D’Amico (Christopher Mintz-Plasse), the geeky, repressed son of the mobster Kick-Ass killed, decides to accelerate his plans for dastardly revenge after getting a lesson in steely cruelty from his incarcerated uncle (Game of Thrones’ Iain Glenn). He’s soon recruiting an “evil army”, rubbing shoulders with street punks, drug dealers, ex-cons and retired gangsters and military men from around the world, and he has his sights set on Kick-Ass.

What Works?

Kick-Ass 2, once supposed to be subtitled Balls to the Wall, is one of the fullest and busiest movies of the summer, with about a dozen major characters and several important subplots. And yet it’s almost perfectly-balanced—none of the storylines become unnecessarily heavy-handed, you care about all of the major characters, the fights are cool but they never distract from the plot, the humor is fearless and plentiful, and the movie never stoops to the level of mean-spiritedness its predecessor did with its nasty, late-act torture scene. The two domestic conflicts (Dave trying to obey his father’s wishes to settle down, and Mindy’s attempts to please her guardian, Marcus, by being a good, normal girl) are poignant but aren’t rammed down the viewer’s throat—conveyed in a couple of scenes and a few key exchanges of dialogue, they’re such familiar teen-movie tropes they don’t need to take over the movie to make their point.

While a more exclusive niche movie like this was never going to have a huge audience, 2 did receive some unfortunate press a few months back when series newcomer Jim Carrey—who has arguably the most prominent new role—decided he wouldn’t participate in the preceding publicity campaign for the film (because of its largely-violent content) in wake of the Sandy Hook Elementary School massacre. It’s no secret that what makes the Kick-Ass movies tick is reckless, ruthless, adrenaline-pumping action, but after watching this film, I can’t help but defend it. I’ll be the first to admit I don’t feel like a saint watching a movie like this, and of course it eeks over the line into tasteless territory a few times, but I notice here, just as I did with the first movie, that it makes clear the difference between cool, eye-popping blockbuster-style action, and unpleasant, ripped-from-the-headlines-style murders and executions. It doesn’t always, but it’s one thing watching Hit Girl level a bunch of quippy street punks with nun-chucks and drop kicks; it’s an entirely different thing when someone unexpectedly gets his throat slit by someone he thought was a friend, or even when one of the main antagonists (a muscle-bound, lingerie sporting “former KGB", Mother Russia, played by a fabulously-scene-stealing Olga Kurkulina) coldly mows down a dozen cops, killing them with knives, gunshots, snaps of the neck, and even a lawnmower. Let’s just say I love a good action movie, and I like to clap and cheer and exclaim excitedly, but I know when the happenings onscreen are supposed to be sobering. You’d hope—and, clearly, Carrey hopes—most everyone can likewise tell the difference.

A movie like Kick-Ass 2 is a dream for actors, because nearly everyone onscreen gets to do something cool, funny, exciting, interesting or exaggeratedly stupid. It’s true a movie like this gets its appeal from its action-y razzle-dazzle, but the characters stay at the fore. Taylor-Johnson again makes Dave a sympathetic figure, a normal guy who doesn’t want to live a regular, ordinary life now that he’s tasted action and adventure...but who also really doesn’t want to kill or hurt anybody. Despite Dave’s likeability, Hit Girl, who was elevated to cult-hero status when the original Kick-Ass bowed in theatres back in 2010, remains the heart of the film. While Moretz can’t quite scale the stupefying heights she reached before—few could, and she did that at age 11—she proves to be not only as delightfully quippy and badass as before, but she’s a legitimately good actress. When Mindy is painfully rebuffed by the popular girls at school and seeks tearful solace with Dave, you truly feel for her, and her commitment to helping and training Dave convinces you that you wouldn’t rather anyone else have your back.

The other major returning actor from the first film, Christopher Mintz-Plasse is again a hoot; he’s becoming one of the most watchable actors in the business, with his knack for dithering, wannabe bad-ass showboating. You’re hard-pressed not to laugh at his every line, let alone each time he says his character’s crude new nickname.  Numerous other actors make effective contributions, including Morris Chestnut as Mindy’s guardian, Garrett M. Brown as Dave’s dad, Carrey, Lindy Booth, Claudia Lee and Donald Faison (having a ball as the clownish Dr. Gravity).

What Doesn’t Work?

The name of the game with Kick-Ass 2 is obviously pushing the envelope, and sometimes they push it too far. There’s a hilarious riff on teen girls’ obsessions with smoky British boy bands, but the absurdly outrageous way Mindy exacts revenge on the school’s queen bees for humiliating her is not only disgusting, but it’s so far over the top it belongs in a different movie. The queen bee herself, though well-played by Claudia Lee, also ends up a disappointment—after a first scene stuffed with juicy dialogue, the character deteriorates quickly into a cartoonish stereotype. Also, several of the cold-blooded killings by the antagonists teeter on the ledge of nastiness the first film jumped right off with the aforementioned torture spectacle; not to mention a scene where a Korean mobster screams in pain while a dog chews on his netherparts goes on way too long.  Kick-Ass 2 also unavoidably misses Nicholas Cage, whose doomed maniac Big Daddy was one of the key cogs in the first movie, not to mention the actor’s best role in about a decade.

Finally, I’m surprised how little of this film Jim Carrey’s actually in. His character has an important part, he’s got some good scenes and great lines, and he’s one of the characters you’ll remember, but I can’t help wondering if his role was shaved on the cutting-room floor (possibly even by his own wishes) after his opinions went public.

Content: In case you didn’t get the idea, Kick-Ass 2 is intense stuff. Bad words starting with ‘f’, ‘b’ and ‘c’ fly around like punctuation, as do euphemisms for male and female anatomy, as well as colorful descriptions of sexual acts. There are also multiple jokes deriving humor from gender, race, sexual orientation and intimate bodily functions. There’s a brief shot of a pair of topless women (several others go through the entirety of the film barely covering anything), and, of course, the violence pulls no punches. Off goes a guy’s hand, out goes a guy’s eye, headfirst under the tires of a speeding truck goes another baddie, and on and on we go. Most fans of Kick-Ass 2 will expect all this—for the uninitiated: don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Bottom Line (I Promise): Kick-Ass 2 isn’t a movie I’d recommend to many casual moviegoers, and it can’t reach the same superbly fearless heights as its 2010 predecessor, but this fast, fun, funny and outrageous film is nearly as entertaining as movies come.

Kick-Ass 2 (2013)

Written for the screen and Directed by Jeff Wadlow
Based on the comics by Mark Millar and John Romita Jr.
Rated R
Length: 103 minutes

John McClane and The Wolverine

OLD DOGS, NEW TRICKS:

Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine goes to Japan to find himself in his sixth film, and Bruce Willis’ John McClane, in his fifth film, goes to Russia to find his estranged son.

Joint Review of The Wolverine and A Good Day to Die Hard (both 2013)

A Good Day to Die Hard
Grade: D
Starring: Bruce Willis, Jai Courtney, Sebastian Koch, Rasha Bukvic, Yulia Snigir, Cole Hauser and Mary Elizabeth Winstead
Premise: John McClane travels to Russia to find his grown son, Jack, whose CIA spy duties have gotten him into deep trouble.

Rated R for strong violence and blood, language, intense action including several devastating car accident scenes, and brief suggestive material

That A Good Day to Die Hard even exists is a crime. True movie fans probably know this without even seeing it, everyone else will after they watch it (if they do—which isn’t recommended). It’s not just a crime in that it’s a bad movie (which it is), but its real wrongdoing is once and for all soiling the name and aura of one of the best action films of all time and possibly one of the best films of all time, 1988’s original Die Hard. That memorable terrorist thriller introduced audiences to John McClane (Bruce Willis) a then-vacationing NYPD detective whose destiny turned out to perpetually be The Fly In the Ointment, The Wrong Guy in the Wrong Place at the Wrong Time, the guy who gets into other people’s messes and fixes them, all by just making things up as he goes along. That setup proved bountiful in the original and two intense 1990s sequels, and even a not-too-bad fourth adventure a few years back. But A Good Day to Die Hard is a bomb, an absolute train wreck from the instant it begins, and it will feel like a tragedy—even a very personal wrong—to those who love the franchise.

 Story: Supposedly in the twilight of his police career, John McClane (bald-as-an-egg Willis) decides to take an impromptu trip to Moscow when he learns his son Jack (Jai Courtney) is a CIA detective in what seems to be in a serious spot. Jack has recently been arrested for murder and is now being forced to testify as a witness in the high-profile trial of fallen-from-grace Russian scientist Yuri Kamarov (Sebastian Koch). Said trial is interrupted—just before Papa John can walk into the courtroom to find his son—by a bombing, a scheme led by a chuckling Russian gangster (Rasha Bukvic). Jack escapes with Kamarov—his witness to prove the wrongs of another famous Russian bigwig—but his superiors at the CIA refuse to provide him with an evac with the Russian mob hot on his tail. They’re in such hot pursuit Jack barely escapes; he does, though, thanks to his old man, whom he is loathe to thank. After all, no matter his dad’s toughness and instincts in a tight spot, Jack still sees the guy who divorced his mom and who was more interested in his career then his kids. John, for his part, is borderline desperate to connect with the son he overlooked. With the Russian mob hot on their tails, John tries to get Jack to connect him, to really trust him, so they can work together to get Kamarov to safety in CIA hands.

What Doesn’t Work?

Almost everything. A Good Day to Die Hard is a muddled mess, less a new entry in a 25-year old iconic franchise than some C-grade TV thriller with corny Eastern European villains, a boring plot, dark, cloudy visuals, tissue-paper thin characters, and rushed, borderline-unintelligible dialogue (I had to watch the entire movie in English subtitles to understand the majority of even the Americans’ lines). As previously stated: that this film is at all associated with any of the previous entries, let alone the original Die Hard, is a travesty. It does the name serious disservice. 

 Okay, so, I didn’t really expect anything awesome from a fourth sequel, but A Good Day sinks like a stone. The beginning, with the muttering Russians with unintelligible names, doesn’t inspire confidence, and the rest of the movie follows suit. It sprints through its set-up, treating early scenes like an inconvenience that must be dealt with until the bullets can start flying, but doing so leaves out the answers to some important questions: How does John McClane not know that his son is in the CIA? How does he find out about the murder trial? Why does he keep saying he’s on vacation when he went to Moscow specifically to find his son? Why doesn’t his son have a personality? Why? It gets worse: People walk away from crushed car pileups with nary a scratch, people jump out of buildings to evade explosions or gunfire only to land happily in canvas tarps or conveniently-placed swimming pools and the main villain, Bukvic’s playboy, is supposed to be scary but he spends his time eating carrots and tap-dancing, and his big attempt to psychologically wound our heroes involves reminding them that Ronald Reagan is dead.

 Oh, and our heroes? Our barely-tolerable protagonists is more like it. We know John and Jack McClane are the main characters, and main characters don’t usually die, so they don’t, but that’s about all the significance they have. Other then a glimmer of chemistry or two, the movie has a big black hole at its center where meaningful characters should be (a far cry from the original and even the decent Live Free or Die Hard, the most meaningful aspect of which was the odd-couple relationship between the tough, manly McClane and the likably goofy Justin Long, playing a wanted computer hacker). These two just yell at each other over the roar of gunfire, and in between explosions. As Jack, Courtney—who showed flashes of potential in last winter’s Jack Reacher—scowls, mumbles and lacks any real traits except the irritating habit of calling his father “John” or “McClane”, just in case anyone figured the McClane family wasn’t the happiest bunch in the world. And Willis himself has a hard time eliciting even slight grins from the audience with weak one-liners. **NOTE: One of A Good Day’s biggest missteps is wasting Mary Elizabeth Winstead as Lucy McClane; she’s in two brief scenes here, but her feisty tough-girl was Live Free’s other X factor**

 What Works?

Willis will never be completely charmless. While this script’s attempts at humor mostly elicit groans, his patented “Yippie-ki-yay” can’t help but raise your spirits, and the actor even brings a touch of real, gruffly-gentle father pathos to a brief scene where he tells his son he’s had a good day with him, even if they’ve spent it running for their lives. There’s little else to recommend in this film (and I’m not recommending it), other than perhaps a vaguely-watchable action scene or two, but even these are largely marred by huge gaps in logic ("he would not have survived that!") or third-rate special effects (that almost laughable helicopter explosion at the end, followed by our heroes falling into the Conveniently-Placed Swimming Pool).

 Content: There was no real reason to make Live Free the first PG-13 film in the series except to lure in some more bucks, but whatever. A Good Day celebrates its R-ratedness with plenty of F-words, a few bloody wounds, a quick shot of a woman in a skimpy outfit, and some loud, guns-a-blazin’ violence. Seriously, though, you do see at least two people get shot through the head at close range. Keep the kiddies away.

 Bottom Line: Tiresome, barely-watchable dreck that shames the series that spawned it.

THE WOLVERINE

Grade: B-
Starring: Hugh Jackman, Tao Okamoto, Rila Fukushima, Hal Yamanouchi, Ken Yamamura, Svetlana Khodchenkova and Famke Janssen
Premise: Self-exiled from the other X-Men, Logan is lured to Tokyo by an old acquaintance with an incredible offer.

Rated PG-13 for intense action violence, some blood and gory material, language, and some sexual content

I hadn’t planned on seeing The Wolverine—Hugh Jackman’s sixth go-round as Marvel comics’ metal-clawed leading man—until a couple days ago, when some friends convinced me to, and here I am pleasantly surprised. In a summer of hotly-anticipated, big-budget whoppers so underwhelming I can’t remember anything about after having seen them (Fast & Furious 6, The Lone Ranger, After Earth), The Wolverine might actually be the first blockbuster this summer that exceeded my expectations. It’s not a perfect movie by any means, but I really didn’t think the world needed another X-Men movie, let alone another solely about the surly, burly Wolverine, but I can already tell it’s one movie from this summer that will stand alone in my mind. And that’s saying something.

Story: Time has passed since Logan (Jackman) had to kill his lady-love, Jean Grey (Famke Janssen), to stop her from being fully overtaken by her powers and destroying the world (in 2006’s X-Men: The Last Stand), but he hasn’t healed. When he’s not having disturbing nightmares, he’s wandering the woods, occasionally surfacing in local towns for a beer or some batteries for his radio. He’s also sworn (to the memory of Jean) that he will never use his claws for malicious intent again. However, he’s right on the verge of breaking that vow and teaching some drunken thugs a lesson when a red-haired, sword-wielding Japanese woman (Rila Fukushima) intervenes. Not only does she wield a sword like a mean extension of her body, but she appears able to tell the future. And she has an invitation for Logan: accompany her back to Japan to meet her employer (Hal Yamanouchi), the elderly, dying business tycoon Logan saved decades before from severe injury during the Nagasaki atomic bombing at the end of the World War II. The old man, who--as a soldier at the prison camp where Logan was being held, saw and realized the full extent of Logan’s powers when he survived the nuke--has spent his life expanding the bounds of robotic and medical science, trying to find a way to make himself immortal, too. However, when Logan appears before him (ostensibly “to say goodbye”) he offers something seemingly-impossible: immortality. Logan can rest, after his nearly two centuries of life, and be forever united with Jean’s spirit in the great beyond.

The old man dies, but Logan’s adventure doesn’t end there. He smells trouble. Members of rival Japanese gangs are dogging the old man’s remaining family members everywhere, with their attention focused on the man’s gorgeous granddaughter, Mariko (Tao Okamoto). There’s also a fellow mutant (Svetlana Khodchenkova) manipulating gangsters and trying to seize the old man’s family power for herself. And most troubling of all, Logan’s not healing like he used to; he’s getting tired and weak, and he wonders if the old man’s offer of immortality might have really been a great opportunity.

What Works?

The first great thing about The Wolverine (based on a 1982 limited comics series by Chris Claremont and Frank Miller) is that it’s based in Japan: I can’t be the only person who’s tired of seeing New York City or Los Angeles as the setting for every blockbuster (which typically means they get blown to bits). The change of pace allows for original, refreshing casting, and a certain cultural texture that keeps this from feeling like just another Marvel movie (it also doesn’t hurt that pretty much all the baddies are acrobatic, sword-wielding ninjas, so the fight scenes are pretty invigorating). It’s also anything but a one-trick pony: it’s ideas don’t end with Wolverine goes to Japan, there’s plentiful twists and turns, and the lurking question “do you think Wolverine should give up immortality so he can really live, then rest”? It’s a layered, thoughtful question, that could bring each audience member some perspective. And the opening re-creation of the Nagasaki bombing—complete with a clear-as-day shot of the bomb dropping—is absolutely mesmerizing.

                    

Even though the character Wolverine only really has two settings—growling one-liners and bellowing in pain and/or rage—Jackman has to be one of the most watchable actors alive. Having proven he can do a lot more than this with his Oscar-nominated turn in December’s Les Miserables, Jackman slides back into the claws with ease and proves as tough and heroic as ever before. While Wolverine is the main focal point and everything else revolves around him, Japanese actresses Tao Okamoto and Rila Fukushima make positive, likeable impressions as well.

What Doesn’t Work?

The lack of other mutants. Not only do you wish to see Magneto or Storm or Iceman or Pyro or somebody else with real powers, you’re also saddled with the notion that, at the end of The Last Stand, people were dead, sure, but you got the idea the surviving X-Men would stay together. Thus, the fact that Wolverine’s off by his lonesome is depressing and doesn’t seem to fit with the other movies. Oh, and like most other comic book-based movies, The Wolverine has trouble keeping a steady pulse when there are no fights going on, and even when there are, all the main fights go on way too long (the build-up is almost always better then the climax in movies like this). Famke Janssen’s cameos as Jean (in dream/hallucination sequences) are groan-inducing eye-rollers—Wolfie’s idea of “heaven” is depicted as being in bed with Jean while she sports a low-cut, lacy top. Also, for the second time in the last big blockbusters I’ve seen (The Lone Ranger being the other), I can’t fathom why a troubled hero, who appears to have found peace with a certain woman (Wolverine with Mariko, here) won’t stay and live with her, rather than run off because that’s what he does. The depressing truth is, it’s probably because the idea of Wolverine living happily and peacefully in Tokyo doesn’t seem like it could yield very marketable sequels.

 Content: Like most Marvel Comics movies, there’s a lot of fighting and assorted mayhem, but between the shaky-cam (how I do hate shaky-cam) and the necessity of maintaining a mostly family-friendly vibe, there’s hardly a drop of blood, even as our hero slices and dices people with his adamantium claws. There are a lot of intense moments, including poisonings, sword-fights, and a part where Wolverine has to perform an emergency heart surgery on himself, so little kiddies will get a bit of a shock, but most fanboys will love it. Jackman also uses a couple four-letter words.

Bottom Line: It’s not the best X-Men movie, but it’s not the worst, either: The Wolverine has its flaws but a change of scenery, some new characters, and some interesting dilemmas make this one of the summer’s best blockbusters so far.

A Good Day to Die Hard (2013)

Directed by John Moore
Screenplay by Skip Woods; Based on Characters Created by Roderick Thorp
Rated R
Length: 98 minutes

The Wolverine (2013)

Directed by James Mangold
Screenplay by Mark Bomback and Scott Frank; Based on the 1982 comic series “Wolverine” by Chris Claremont and Frank Miller
Rated PG-13
Length: 126 minutes

PACIFIC RIM

Pacific Rim (2013)

Grade: B-

Directed by Guillermo del Toro

Starring: Charlie Hunnam, Idris Elba, Rinko Kikuchi, Charlie Day and Ron Perlman

Premise: Humans build giant, mind-controlled fighting robots to combat an onslaught of huge monsters from another dimension.

Rated PG-13 for strong action violence, disturbing images, scenes of destruction, language, and some gore

When I first began hearing advance buzz for Pacific Rim, I didn’t quite know what to make of it. Oh, I knew the main idea: the whole giant robots-fighting-giant-monsters, Godzilla-meets-Transformers video game nerd’s wet dream. How much more straightforward can it get? But one thing just didn’t click to me, didn’t make sense—the involvement of Mexican director Guillermo del Toro. A giant robots-versus-monsters earth-in-jeopardy smackdown directed by del Toro? By the man who lavished creative style (at the expense of some substance, I’ll admit) on the two generally appreciated Hellboy superhero flicks? The man who fashioned one of the last decade’s most memorable, emotional, and lovingly-made films, the critical darling Pan’s Labyrinth, which was defined by its look as much as its poignancy? Oh sure, the trailers for Pacific Rim made it clear the film’s central premise was Earth being invaded by monsters from another dimension, which at least made it plain that del Toro would get to show off his visually-creative chops in monster design and plot intrigue, but directing? Really?

Having seen Pacific Rim, I can tell you that it has the fingerprints of a great director. Despite the obviousness of its monster mash calling card, Rim isn’t just a bunch of mindless action, nor did it reveal all its best moments in the trailer (in fact, pretty much everything from any of its trailers is spilled out in the movie’s opening minutes, a rare feat for a summer blockbuster). Its main idea is pretty cool, it opens with a spectacularly nerve-shattering, awe-inspiring dramatic action sequence, and has some other solid moments. However… Basically, despite cool action and some great visuals (thankfully, the rumored $180 million budget does not appear to have been wasted), Pacific Rim ends up feeling like little more than a bigger, better-made version of those earth-in-jeopardy SciFi channel flicks that ends with a male and a female smiling at each other while rescue helicopters soar over their heads, Earth’s/humanity’s destruction happily and tidily averted.

Story: In the near future, a portal to another dimension will open deep in the Pacific Ocean—its discovery coming only after a skyscraper-sized alien monster (nicknamed kaiju, Japanese for ‘Giant Beast’) unexpectedly plunders San Francisco and leaves thousands dead. After more kaijus come havoc-wreaking ashore, leaving their huge, destructive mark on many a well-populated city, humanity’s greatest minds come up with an idea: combat the kaijus with something like-sized. The result of much research and construction are the Jaegers (pronounced “Yay-grr), giant humanoid robots controlled, avatar-style, by a live person. Two people, in fact, to keep from overloading either individual’s neurons. Naturally, like any truly-destructive virus, the monsters slowly begin adapting, becoming more and more deadly, and the Jaegers--despite huge iron fists, flamethrowers and plasma cannons-- don’t always win. Jaeger pilot Raleigh Beckett (Charlie Hunnam) learns this the hard way in 2017, when his brother (Diego Klattenhoff) is snatched right out of the cockpit of their dually-controlled bot by an angry kaiju. Physically and emotionally scarred, Raleigh drops out of the program, but is re-recruited five years later by the Jaeger team’s head honcho (Idris Elba) when it’s revealed that a giant, armored wall along the coast is no use against a land-bound kaiju, and Jaegers really are humanity’s only defense.

There is some hope in the war against extinction, though. The kaijus have consistently made their appearances via a “bridge”, the portal in the Pacific. Humanity’s best military minds have concluded that an appropriately placed nuke might be able to collapse the bridge and shut and lock the proverbial door on the baddies. But as the monsters keep adapting, growing more and more fearsome, and their attacks become more and more frequent, Jaegers keep falling, and the chance of getting an A-bomb down into that portal is all but left to the haunted, scarred Raleigh and his enthusiastic but untrained rookie partner (Rinko Kikuchi).

What Works?

Pacific Rim opens with a bang, both with an opening voiceover by Raleigh establishing the history of the human-kaiju war and in the realization, as a moviegoer, that this movie isn’t simply going to be a longer version of its trailer. Then the opening fight scene, with Raleigh and his brother entering their Jaeger, joining minds, being deployed, and facing down a swordfish-faced monster is superb, with its awe-inspiring scope and pedal-to-the-medal action. (A following scene in which a stunned, ashen-faced and badly-wounded Raleigh staggers from the wrecked cockpit of his mauled Jaeger proves one of the most memorable movie images of the summer.) Also, thankfully, this is one of those monster/alien movies where the monster aliens actually look pretty cool, and aren’t just big-budget attempts at spookiness (remember, this is del Toro directing). Rim really hits its stride with an epic Top Gun-style scene where Raleigh and his partner, Mako, having proven erratic piloting a Jaeger together during a test run, rush to save the day as three other Jaeger teams are in the process of being overwhelmed by two enormous kaijus off the coast of Hong Kong. The pulse-pounding spectacle and the “yeah, get ‘em!” adrenaline rush of the smackdown are nigh irresistible (and make you realize Pacific Rim just has to be a video game).

Other than the action sequences, the other really impressionable scene is a flashback/dream scene in which Mako relives her childhood ordeal of fleeing a wrathful kaiju through a ruined city shortly after losing her family—between the obvious distress of the screaming, crying child (props to young actress Mana Ashida) and the wanton destruction, the scene is vivid in its raw intensity, a surprisingly uncomfortable wake-up call right in the middle of a big popcorn flick. But that height is never reached again, and after the aforementioned cheer-worthy one-on-two fight scene, Rim turns to a too-easy, contrived second act that’s all action and ticking nuclear bombs.

As ever in a movie like this, the actors do what they can. Despite his best efforts, Hunnam makes little impression in the crusading hero role, not necessarily his fault given the cliché plot and character type (he’s essentially Jake Sulley from Avatar). As his partner, Mako, Oscar nominee Kikuchi is sadly underused: she makes an intriguing change from the typical swimsuit model heroine/love interest of most blockbusters, but after wowing in an early sparring scene, she’s all sheepish smiles and goo-goo eyes as she lavishes platonic affection on Raleigh. And as the movie’s most marketable actor, Elba does what he can with the weary, heroic veteran role.

What Doesn’t Work?
Did I really expect three-dimensional characters and challenging moviemaking from a movie about giant robots fighting giant alien monsters? Of course not. But the action starts to become a little tiring when alien after alien is off-ed with an Optimus Prime-style sword. Also, the movie goes from triumphant to almost-over on a dime, rushing in an overlong climax involving two Jaegers fighting about six different monsters.

A lot of screen time is also devoted to some shaky supporting characters. As a kaiju-loving scientist who has an eleventh hour revelation about the beasts’ habits after attempting a risky experiment, Charlie Day proves that a little manic, nerdy, mad scientist energy goes a long way, and more than that becomes nails-on-chalkboard annoying. Hellboy himself, Ron Perlman, also shows up late in the proceedings as a bling-draped black market profiteer who collects kaiju parts. Perlman, certainly not known as a master of the acting craft, is almost painfully bad, trying on dark humor and intimidating mobster at the same time and convincing in neither fashion.

Like I said, Pacific Rim has the early makeup of something better and less perfunctory, but, really, it arrives at its climax too easily, reminding one that these humans-on-the-brink-of-elimination tales can be riveting in the moment but rarely end up as gratifying on screen as they once seemed on paper.

Content

There’s Transformers/Man of Steel style destruction of cities during (and even after) Jaeger-kaiju battles, in which cars are knocked aside like Skittles and skyscrapers are hollowed out in an instant, plus some malevolent maiming and mauling of the neon-blooded alien baddies, but not much real blood. There’s some low-key profanity and one or two scares (impressively for a summer blockbuster, scarcely a whiff of sensuality or anything suggestive), but mostly the movie’s about as unnerving as the rock-em-sock-em video game it seems to want to be.

Bottom Line: It’s decent (in fact, it has some legitimately great moments), but Pacific Rim deflates quickly in its second act: it's essentially a bigger-budgeted, more polished version of the monster tales that regale viewers regularly on the Sci-Fi channel. Not really sure whether this counts as a win or a loss for the enigmatic Mr. Del Toro.

Pacific Rim (2013)

Directed by Guillermo del Toro

Written for the Screen by Guillermo del Toro and Travis Beacham

Rated PG-13

Length: 132 minutes

THE LONE RANGER

The Lone Ranger (2013)

Grade: C+

Starring: Johnny Depp, Armie Hammer, William Fichtner, Tom Wilkinson, Ruth Wilson, Barry Pepper, James Badge Dale, and Helena Bonham Carter

Premise: A straight-laced lawyer dons a mask and takes justice into his own hands after his brother is killed by a ruthless bandit.

Rated PG-13 for intense violence and action, some suggestive material, disturbing images and brief language

Many movies would benefit from being shorter. Director Gore Verbinski’s new two-and-a-half-hour, action-and-special-effects-stuffed take on the classic radio/TV adventure The Lone Ranger is unquestionably near the top of that list. A bloated monolith that feels at least twice its already-considerable length and contains multiple beginnings and still more endings, plus bewildering shifts in tone, Ranger seems to be a classic example of people trying to manufacture huge, epic awesomeness where there doesn’t need to be any. The big screen adaptation of a hit radio show about Cowboys and Indians that became a hit black-and-white TV show in the ‘50s was never going to be the biggest, best action movie of a summer movie season—let alone one already featuring Superman, Iron Man, Monsters from Pixar and The Great Gatsby—no matter how many millions you throw at it (a reported $250 million, in this case).. But daggone if Verbinski, his backer, Disney, and his producer, Jerry Bruckheimer, aren’t going to try.

Oh, but Verbinski/Disney/Bruckheimer’s last big grand spectacle, a little seafaring doozy called The Pirates of the Caribbean, became a four-movie, multibillion dollar enterprise, and it certainly didn’t skimp on the epic. So why aim low?

In any case, I believe there is a very nice little hour-and-a-half or hour-and-forty-five-minute Western adventure movie inside the noisy thunderclap that is Ranger, and I very badly want to see it. The pieces are all in place. There’s a likeable hero (Armie Hammer) who does good, fights bad guys, spares lives when he can, and can ride a horse like no other. There’s Johnny Depp playing the hero’s Indian sidekick/mentor Tonto, who’s weird and goofy in an intriguing sort of way, and no one does intriguing/weird/goofy like Johnny Depp. There’s a legitimately scary villain in knife-wielding outlaw Butch Cavendish (an unrecognizable, and impressively sinister, William Fichtner). There are sprawling Western landscapes, a rousing, grin-inducing bit of instrumental theme music almost everyone will recognize (“William Tell’s Overture”), and a cool good guy dispensing justice the way many audience members would love to. Basically, for modern moviegoers, there’s the cool sense that we’re watching, and enjoying, something people watched and enjoyed fifty years ago, and we get snatches of what made it so wonderful.

But then the screenwriters go and add stuff to it. The hero, setup and premise are admittedly simple, and have been done in varied versions before (the Robin Hood, Batman and Zorro stories all come to mind, what with a mysterious figure doing heroic, risky things for the good of the common people), but the lousy, predictable framing device used to tell the main story in flashback doesn't start things promisingly. In fact, it makes it a while before we even meet our hero, John Reid. And then multiple beginnings, multiple storylines, and a revolving door full of worthless characters we're supposed to care about make it even longer until he puts on the mask. From there, the movie adds not one, but two more villains, plus political undertones manifested rather unsubtly in one of those Avatar-style battlefield massacres where cold-hearted white dudes with guns mow down crowds of indigenous spearchuckers. What's next? Lame comic/fantasy-element devices like cannibalistic bunnies and a horse that drinks beer and climbs trees? Yep. A slightly uncomfortable love story where our hero carries a torch for his older brother’s prettily pouting wife (Ruth Wilson), who becomes conveniently available after said brother (James Badge Dale) is tragically killed? Yessir. And how about multiple endings? And never forget the obligatory scene where a villain, having finally cornered a hero with gun in hand, wastes time (and misses his chance to win the day and ruin the movie at the same time) by boasting about how he’s won, he’s beaten the hero, he’s going to get away, he’s going to be rich, he’s…You get the idea. He wasted the time. He doesn’t kill the hero. He doesn’t win. He shoulda just pulled the trigger.

If I sound cynical, it’s not my fault. Like I said, the elements are all there. It’s just that the plot development of squeaky-clean lawyer John Reid arriving at the town of Colby, Texas to join his old brother in the fight against crime and injustice—though, for John, strictly in the courtroom—should have taken about 10 minutes, instead of forty. And it would have been totally okay if he didn’t become a swashbuckling hero until after his brother, who deputized him, is killed tragically in an ambush during a pursuit of the villain—I promise, we won’t get bored seeing a setup: modern movie audiences have seen it many times. Even after John puts on the mask, joins forces with an mysterious but principled Indian named Tonto, and realizes there’s evil afoot (a crusading railroad tycoon happens to be more than he seems, possibly in cahoots with the evil Butch), no need to add another villain, especially one as dopey as Barry Pepper’s gentlemanly coward of an army captain. And why insert talented Oscar-nominee Helena Bonham Carter into a movie only for two scenes, both of which simply see her showing how her artificial leg has been outfitted with a high-powered rifle?

Oh, the performances are all solid—especially Depp doing another quirky-guy-with-an-accent without aping his Captain Jack Sparrow portrayal and Fichtner owning his moment in the sun after years on the sidelines in action flicks—the countryside and details all look great (props to the cinematography and special effects people) and the ending, featuring two runaway trains on which our heroes fight the three villains while also trying to save the girl and the other townspeople, proves Verbinski hasn’t lost his touch with massive battle scenes, a la Pirates. And yeah, the scenes of the Ranger riding his white horse, Silver, atop a speeding train while the William Tell Overture soars make you understand why people loved the Ranger back in the day. However…

It just felt too long. Too many scenes, too many characters, too many storylines, too many scenes of cackling villains who could end the movie but don’t, too many scenes of villains undergoing horrific accidents or injuries and bounding back up without a scratch because it’s not time for the movie to be over yet, and too many scenes of Dudley Do-Right-ish pratfalls followed by unexpectedly sobering scenes of Native American massacres that make you wonder who this movie is made for.

It’s not that there’s too much action. There is too much story. Lack of originality was always going to be a problem in a new reboot/adaptation; those are too common in this day and age. But Lone Ranger should have gone the route of the new Star Trek movies: it’s okay to have one main line of action, one villain, one basic plot—to feel like an episode, in other words—if your episode is well written, well-paced, and ends in a satisfying way. That’s what leaves audiences wanting more. Lone Ranger, despite some good performances, effects and memorable moments, feels more like the filmmakers threw everything they could think of at the proverbial wall, hoping something would stick and make this the Next Great Epic. It’s too bad.

The Lone Ranger (2013)

Directed by Gore Verbinski

Written by Justin Haythes, Ted Elliot and Terry Rossio

Rated PG-13

Length: 149 minutes

MONSTERS AND ZOMBIES: A TALE OF TWO MOVIES

Monsters and Zombies: A Tale of Two Movies

Saturday, June 22, 2013

It was the best of times for some, and the worst of times for others. Today, in the darkness of movie theaters, I watched Brad Pitt flee from zombies and Mike Wazowski flee from human children. The human race faced extinction, and famous monster heroes faced expulsion. Pixar Animation hit another home run, and the zombie apocalypse genre added a solid new entry to its historic ranks.

Today marked the third time I’ve seen two different movies in theaters in one day. Back in the winter of 2003, I saw Cold Mountain and The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King back-to-back in the course of one epic but emotionally-draining afternoon, and then in the winter of 2009, I visited the theater once in the early afternoon, once at night, to see a pair of Oscar bait, history-based (ultimately overrated) sports dramas, Invictus and The Blind Side.

Today, it was the zombie apocalypse adaptation World War Z and the family-friendly prequel Monsters University.

World War Z

Length: 116 minutes              

Rated PG-13 for intense action violence and some gory/bloody content, language, and disturbing zombie images

My Grade: B

At the brisk, early morning time of 11 A.M., which might be the earliest starting time of any movie I’ve ever seen in theaters, I settled in for the big-screen adaptation of Max Brooks’ hit bestseller, World War Z. Directed by Oscar-nominee Marc Forster and starring the popular-as-ever Brad Pitt, Z comes into theaters riding its popular name and hoping for at least one big weekend payday thanks to the promise of portrayal of a zombie apocalypse.

Well, for starters, it tramples on the joking mood people always have when they consider where they would go, and what they would do, in the event of a zombie apocalypse, because it definitely fails to make such a cataclysmic event look like any fun. Like the book, it gives no real origin for the rabies virus that begins infecting people, sometimes “turning” them in as little as 12 seconds after being bitten. And we see the mass outbreak of the disease in downtown Philadelphia through the eyes of a well-to-do family.

Pitt plays Gerry Lane, a former UN investigator who’s in morning traffic with his loving wife (Mireille Enos) and adorable daughters (Sterling Jerins and Abigail Hargrove) when they begin to see twitchy, snarling, weirdly-acrobatic people tackling bystanders and mauling them. Cars crash, people scream, zombies shriek and head-butt their way through car windows to get at the fresh homo sapien meat on the other side, and a sense of real, terrifying tension is set. Through a government contact (Fana Mokoena), Gerry and his family are escorted to safety aboard a quarantined aircraft carrier, but are only allowed to stay on the basis that Gerry agrees to help look for a cure.

His military-sanctioned journey takes him from the rainy wastelands of South Korea—where he learns any little sound can trigger an all-out assault from the undead—to the fortified city of Jerusalem, where a towering wall and strict military security seem to promise a sanctuary, to a high-tech science lab in Eastern Europe, where Gerry and a few other scientists brainstorm possible cures. All the while, the size of earth’s healthy population plummets and Gerry’s family loses hope of ever seeing him again.

World War Z is tremendously gripping—a few scenes where characters need to stay quiet to keep their presence unknown to the undead make you afraid to breathe too loudly—but all it really has to offer are the scenes of zombies overrunning the world. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, given that these large-scale scenes of the infected attacking the healthy were largely absent from the big-budget aftermath flick I Am Legend, and the savagely intense survival tale, 28 Days Later (not to mention the cute but enjoyably earnest Warm Bodies), so they’re real treats. The Philadelphia raid, the breaching of Jerusalem, and outbreak aboard an in-flight airplane prove arm-rest-clenching, electrifying sequences, and there are a few great moments late in the lab, but World War Z offers nothing more than that. Pitt, though no chameleon, has always proven a solid screen presence and an actor of considerable intensity, but Gerry is one of the least-compelling characters he’s ever played. His family is but a plot device. And regrettably, after all its impressive Earth-storming thunder, Z shudders immediately to a halt upon the discovery of a cure to the zombie virus. Then, as if afraid the audience will lose interest watching the de-zombiefication of earth, the movies hurries to its anticlimactic finish with an uninspired hodgepodge of voiceovers and clips of zombies being blown up. It’s funny, because this same “cleaning up” of a zombie-overrun earth was done to such uplifting effect in Warm Bodies a couple months ago.

Bottom Line: World War Z offers a compelling, edge-of-your-seat-tense experience with some fantastic spectacle, but it’s short on story and characterization, and ends meekly. I enjoyed watching it, but in a summer already featuring Superman, Iron Man and Khan, Z may disappear from the limelight quickly.

Monsters University

Length: 110 minutes

Rated G (contains some mildly scary moments)

My Grade: B+

I wanted to see World War Z, but I had a feeling I would enjoy Monsters University more. Boy, did I. The prequel to 2001’s Monsters, Inc.,University offers one of Pixar’s breeziest outings, lighter and funnier than some of the more somber installments. Of course, it didn’t hurt Up, Wall-E or Brave to really touch the heart and the tear ducts, but this new Monsters proves every bit as watchable.

Did you ever wonder how the mismatched pair of pint-sized, one-eyed Mike Wazowski (voice of Billy Crystal) and hulking, furry James P. Sullivan (voice of John Goodman) met? University answers that question by presenting them in their monster teens, with Mike arriving at the titular institution a dork full of excitement and dream-fulfillment, aiming for the stars, while Sully, the son of a famous scarer, swaggers in planning to get by on brawn and reputation. Both want to be scarers, which were identified in the earlier film as monsters who scare children for a living, making them scream so those screams can be recorded and then used to power their monster cities. Scarers are all the rage, but getting into the Scare program means winning the respect and approval of Dean Hardscrabble (voice of Helen Mirren), a famously scary figure who looks a cross between a Gothic dragon and a giant millipede.

The familiar college-movie tropes are in place right away. Mike is a book-devouring teacher’s pet, who has a fellow nerdy roommate (Randall Boggs, voiced by Steve Buscemi) and a lifelong dream of becoming a scarer, even though everyone claims he isn’t scary. Sully, meanwhile, impresses his teachers and peers with his bulk and his thunderous roars, and gains immediate admission to the top fraternity on campus. The two share a mutual ire almost immediately, and when an escalated squabble ends in the desecration of a sacred university artifact, the two are banished from the Scare program unless they can, together, lead a fraternity to victory in the campus-wide “Scare Games”. Of course, that fraternity is the lame Oozma Kappa, the fraternity answer to the Island of Misfit Toys.

The voices are all charming and effective, the animation’s a delight (the university’s terrifying, tentacled librarian is a particular standout, with a group of demonic sorority girls a close second) and there’s a late real-life-scary bit that evokes comparisons to Insidious and Paranormal Activity, where things go bump in the night and move around seemingly of their own accord. The emotional arc is the same as it was in the first movie (Sully and Mike each have to swallow a plug of pride and admit they need each other to be effective; Sully, that he needs Mike’s brains and ingenuity, and Mike, that he needs Sully’s strength), but, like most of Pixar’s best, this is one G-rated movie adults and teens will enjoy just as much as the kids-if not more-and that’s not a bad thing (all the people in the audience I could hear howling were adults).

Bottom Line: Not quite in the upper echelon of Pixar’s output—which includes the likes of Up, Finding Nemo, Toy Story and Wall-E—Monsters University is nonetheless a worthy companion to the original and one of the summer’s most likeable and entertaining films.

World War Z (2013)

Directed by Marc Forster

Screenplay by Matthew Carnahan, Drew Goddard, and David Lindelof; Based on the novel by Max Brooks

Rated PG-13

Length: 116 minutes

Monsters University (2013)

Directed by Dan Scanlon

Written by Robert L. Baird, Daniel Gerson and Dan Scanlon

Rated G

Length: 110 minutes

MAN OF STEEL

Man of Steel (2013)

Grade: A-

Starring: Henry Cavill, Amy Adams, Michael Shannon, Russell Crowe, Kevin Costner, Diane Lane, Laurence Fishburne, Antje Traue, Ayelet Zurer and Christopher Meloni

Premise: Sent to Earth for his safety on the eve of his home planet’s destruction, humanoid Kal-El discovers his true identity and the full scope of his powers just before an interstellar sociopath comes for him.

Rated PG-13 for intense sequences of violence and destruction, disturbing images and some language

I didn’t grow up reading comic books or watching superhero cartoons, so I’ll admit I’ve rarely been struck with the awe and wonder most people experience as kids when they learn of the exploits of various men and women with superpowers, who selflessly devote their lives to stopping wrongs. Oh, I’ve fantasized about saving the day (or, more to the point, the Girl), beating up bullies, and being looked at as a hero, but it was always more in a gritty action hero sort of way. I never dreamed of sweeping in, invisible, indestructible, stopping villains and saving people while average citizens stood around gaping in awe. And being an adult who likes to nit-pick movies, the spectacle portrayed in the recent avalanche of superhero movies has rarely moved me with real awe.

I felt some of that awe, that there’s my hero, he’s coming to save the day again delight kids experience as I watched Zack Snyder’s Man of Steel today. Maybe it’s because I’d never seen a Superman movie before, and Superman is the quintessential noble, heroic, indestructible American superhero. I’ve sat through intense action movies and looked forward to seeing Batman, Spiderman and Iron Man stop the villain and save the day, but I’d never seen the last son of Krypton coming zipping in, weightless in the air, in the form-fitting blue suit and the flapping red cape, utterly determined and unstoppable, ready to administer his special brand of heroic, smack down justice on whatever baddies are threatening Earth’s populace. To me, a lifetime moviegoer, it’s the difference between cynically knowing the superhero is going to save the day because it’s his movie and that’s what he does because the script requires it because that’s what he does, and looking forward to the superhero saving the day, because you want him to because it’s gonna be awesome. I’m usually the former, Man of Steel got me to feel he latter. And I gotta tell ya: it’s a heck of a rush.

Most of the details of Superman’s story are common knowledge by now. Despite never having read a comic book or seen a previous Superman adaptation, I knew what to expect. Superman (born Kal-El) is the sole remaining member of a race of highly-advanced humanoids who lived on the distant planet Krypton. Kal-El’s parents, Jor-El (Russell Crowe) and Lara (Ayelet Zurer) more or less die watching their infant son’s emergency shuttlecraft take him deep into space, toward Earth, as their planet implodes around them. Kal-El soon lands on earth and is raised in Smallville, Kansas by a farmer, Jonathan Kent (Kevin Costner) and his wife, Martha (Diane Lane). Raised Clark Kent, Kal-El struggles to fit in mainly because he can’t open up to anyone—his parents embrace him as readily as a natural-born son, sure, but he’s super strong, has X-ray vision and has unnaturally heightened senses, and he can’t show it. He can’t fight back against bullies for fear of causing a hysteria with his strength. In fact, Clark’s father reprimands him for using his powers openly to save a school bus full of drowning children as a teen because it nearly blows his cover, but he encourages him to find out how he can best use his powers.

Which he eventually does. As a young man, Clark (Henry Cavill) discovers his true identity, realizes the full extent of his powers, wins the love and respect of a crusading reporter, Lois Lane (Amy Adams) and becomes Earth’s Mightiest Hero, saving the day again and again while disguising himself daily as a blah Daily Planet reporter named Clark Kent, who keeps everyone in the dark regarding his true identity by wearing thick-rimmed dork glasses on his handsome, chiseled face.

The great pleasure of Man of Steel is seeing all this unfold, and not necessarily in the way or order you think it will. The last days of Krypton at the beginning are beefed up, the young-Clark-trying-to-fit-in-with-Smallville, Kansas are cut down, Clark finds he can learn from and apply the advice of both of his father figures, and he tries to save the world. It needs saving, too, because a treacherous Kryptonian warlord, General Zod (Michael Shannon) has traveled across a great deal of space to try and use Clark’s super-powered D-N-A to recreate Krypton on Earth, which pretty much means leveling it and starting from scratch. Earth’s governing authorities must decide whether to trust Clark or not, whether to appease the threatening Zod by turning Clark over to him or not, and whether being protected by a Superman really is worth all this trouble or not.

 The star-studded cast is terrific. Henry Cavill’s Clark isn’t quite the animated, sharply-etched character say, Peter Parker is, but he’s a likeable presence, he’s humble, he’s got Super Awesome powers, and he looks like a studly superhero. In short: very easy to root for. Adams has proven she can play anything, and while Lois Lane steers close to being a straight-up damsel-in-distress role, the typically-excellent actress plays her with an edge of steel; she’s completely convincing as a no-nonsense reporter. Michael Shannon makes effective use of his unique bearing and voice to make General Zod a threatening, nasty figure without quite making him a frothing-at-the-mouth lunatic. Crowe exudes his usual quietly-heroic charisma in a beefed-up role as Jor-El, and Costner, Lane and Laurence Fishburne (as Lois Lane’s boss) all make solid impressions in limited screen time.  

What flaws Man of Steel has are typical to this type of movie: the climactic bad guy vs. good guy fight goes on forever, there’s a ruined-city-in-peril bit that is emotionally too close to 9/11 for comfort, slam-bang fights become tedious when it becomes clear none of the combatants get actually get hurt, and a mix of shaky cam filming, frenetic editing and overly-busy CGI render some scenes almost unwatchable. At two hours and twenty-three minutes, Man of Steel is long, but it doesn’t begin to feel long until fairly late in the proceedings.

But, of course, it does a lot of things right, first and foremost, as I mentioned, being that it makes you want your superhero to save the day. Better yet, it does so without you being able to predict, in advance, exactly how it’s going to happen (even if you can, watching it happen is still worth it). It deviates from a strictly-linear storytelling that avoids a by-the-numbers feel, as though a storyboard were pasted onto film—it also makes the flashbacks more interesting. Man of Steel also hits the heavy emotional chords when it needs to, the action is appropriately ominous and gasp-inducing, and there are some typically amusing moments watching unknowing shmucks in a bar trying to pick a fight with our indestructible hero.

I know what movie studios have always-and will always-struggle with regarding Superman—how can you make truly exciting, gripping movies about a guy who is literally indestructible, and, therefore, is rarely in any actual danger and will always save the day? I guess we’ll see. But for right now, let’s enjoy Man of Steel, a superhero movie done right.

Man of Steel (2013)

Directed by Zack Snyder

Screenplay by Jonathan S. Goyer and Christopher Nolan; Based on the Superman characters and stories created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster

Rated PG-13

Length: 143 minutes

HITCHCOCK

Hitchcock (2012)

Grade: B+

Starring: Anthony Hopkins, Helen Mirren, Scarlett Johansson, Danny Huston, Toni Collette, Michael Stuhlbarg, Michael Wincott, Jessica Biel and James D’Arcy

Premise: Alfred Hitchcock battles age, grudges and doubting studio bosses to finance and create Psycho, perhaps his best film.

Rated PG-13 for language, suggestive material and some dark themes

Well, Hitchcock came out in the wrong year. Starring Academy Award winners Anthony Hopkins (playing “Master of Suspense” Alfred Hitchcock under a fat suit and a ton of makeup) and Helen Mirren (as his wife, Alma Reville), this fact-based inside look at the making of one of the most famous Hollywood films of all time, 1960’s Psycho, was once considered clear Oscar bait. However, in hindsight, it might have had a better shot at Oscar glory one year prior, in 2011, when two of the year’s most revered films (Hugo and The Artist) reminisced magically about cinema’s early years and another respected film, My Week With Marilyn, told a similar true story about the making of a classic film with famous Hollywood names (also, if you ask me, 2011 had an overall fairly weak group of films competing for the Academy’s top honors, giving this film a better chance of squeezing into the top categories. Oh, I loved Hugo and The Artist, but other key nominations were snared by the very average Moneyball and Tree of Life and the critically-maligned Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close). Contrast that to this past year, when Hitchcock was released in November but all but disappeared amidst a swarm of quality films that were either too important (Lincoln, Life of Pi, Argo, Zero Dark Thirty, Les Miserables) or too irresistible (Django Unchained, Silver Linings Playbook) to bypass the Academy’s notice. 

Why is this relevant? Well, I would have seen Hitchcock a lot sooner if it had gotten more Oscar attention—and I always wondered why a film with such an obvious Oscar-ready pedigree dropped off the radar so entirely. But given the chance to see it, I took it, and I’m glad I did.

I admit I haven’t seen Psycho (of Hitchcock’s many famous films, I’ve only seen The Birds and North by Northwest), but I’ve heard of the infamous shower scene, of Janet Leigh’s deafening screams, of childlike psychopath Norman Bates’ creepy attachment to his Mother. I’ve also heard a lot about how Hitchcock played tricks on his audiences, egged them on, used 3-D and rocking theatre seats and other gags to entice audiences. This might sound a little lame or cheap in hindsight, but keep in mind about half a dozen of Hitchcock’s films are considered among the greatest ever made (other than the ones I mentioned, some of his other “Greatest Hits” include Vertigo, Rear Window and Strangers on a Train).

Anyway, Hitchcock opens with the glitz and glam of the director’s newest soon-to-be classic film, North by Northwest. A reporter asks the 60-year-old director (Hopkins) if his career might have peaked, if he should quit while he’s ahead. These questions haunt Hitchcock, who would be grumpy about being in-between projects even if he wasn’t being forced into a vegetables-only diet by his formidable wife/collaborator (Mirren). But when his receptionist (Toni Collette) gives him a copy of a new book, Robert Bloch’s “Psycho”, based on the real-life serial sociopathic habits of one Ed Gein (Michael Wincott), it sets Hitchcock’s world on fire. It’s grisly, it’s shocking, it’s stunning, it’s like stuff you’ve never seen, and Hitchcock wants in, claiming he can prove there’s a killer in all of us. But his studio won’t finance it, the censorship board is appalled at the contents of the script Hitch gets produced by a squirrelly scribe (Ralph Macchio), and even Alma thinks Hitch might better served adapting a more typical suspense script by her charming friend Whitfield Cook (Danny Huston), who has worked with Hitch before.

Refusing to back down, Hitchcock says he’ll finance the movie himself, he charms some popular actors (James D’Arcy’s Anthony Perkins, Scarlett Johansson’s comely Janet Leigh, even one-time It-Girl Vera Miles, played by Jessica Biel) into playing his parts, and he gets to work. But the movie’s budget starts increasing by the day, the censorship board refuses to give Psycho a seal of approval, the neglected Alma is spending more and more time helping Whitfield edit a script at an isolated cabin on the beach, and people on the set start muttering that Hitch is off his rocker. Which he just might be, seeing as he’s internalized Psycho’s grisly contents to such a degree that he sees Ed Gein everywhere, even in his house.

The rest, as they say, is history. Psycho becomes a huge success, and the film ends with a clever visual pun referencing Hitch’s inspiration for his next big project (I won’t spoil what that is, in case you don’t already know).

For a historical biopic, Hitchcock is a surprisingly breezy watch. Though I’m a huge movie fan, I admittedly haven’t seen or studied much Hitchcock, so I learned a lot about his life and his films. And despite being about a real subject in Hollywood’s history, Hitchcock lacks the over-indulgent feel, and inflated running time, of most important Hollywood self-stories (in fact, the 98-minute Hitchcock is one of those rare movies I wouldn’t have minded going a few scenes longer).

Part of the reason it feels that way is likely because the movie spends as much running time focusing on the clash of wills, jealousy, neglect and stubbornness surrounding Hitch and Alma as it does the making of the movie. Alma knows she can’t quench Hitch’s thirst for younger, blonder, curvier women, and Hitch, for his part, comes to realize he can’t be perfect even if he wants to be, and he needs Alma’s steady hand to guide his megalomania. It might be conventional stuff, but it’s brought to vivid enough life that a late confession of Hitchcock’s that Alma is “the ultimate Hitchcock blonde” is supremely touching and gratifying.

Hopkins and Mirren are superb in these roles. While the undeniably huge amount of makeup used to make Hopkins greater resemble the portly, double-chinned Hitchcock is a tiny bit distracting, it nonetheless completely hides Hopkins, freeing the great actor from having to try and give a performance that doesn’t at all remind one of Hannibal Lecter. Thus, with a made-over physique, the actor’s powerful, expressive voice takes center stage, and it headlines a strong performance. Mirren, meanwhile, just adds another great performance to her already considerable repertoire. Her Alma is the warm beating heart of the film, and the scene where she gives the brash, proud, neglectful Hitchcock what-for might be the film’s best. Watching this, I’m devastated that she missed out on an Oscar nomination to a 9-year old (Quveznhane Wallis) and a here-today, gone-next-scene Naomi Watts (who all but disappeared from the second half of her disaster drama, The Impossible).

If you’re a Hitchcock fan, this film might send you to paradise. If you’re a cinema fan, it’s close. If you just like movies, you’ll surely find something to get excited about in this touching, funny, educational and revealing look at the making of classic.

Hitchcock (2012)

Directed by Sacha Gervasi

Screenplay by John J. McLaughlin; Based on the book “Alfred Hitchcock and the Making of Psycho” by Stephen Rebello

Rated PG-13

Length: 98 minutes