With his Clint Eastwood stogie, Incredible Hulk build, Thing hand, samurai pony tail and oversized gun - Hellboy is certainly an amalgam of all that makes a hero a hero. This is one of several points the thinking man's critics will cite to slam this movie. That being said - it for the same reasons they hate this film that I love it. Sure the idea of a machine that conjures demons is silly. It's supposed to be silly - it's adapted from a comic book. Sure there's some direct co-opting (with the juvenile inclusion of the Rasputin character) -- just wait until Van Helsing rears its ugly head - don't worry, these aren't Van Helsing spoilers, it's just a prediction. Sure Ron Perlman isn't a great actor. Sure he can ONLY play it cool and therefore the small trench of emotional depth del Toro attempts to dig for him is squandered. Sure Selma Blair's character is an X-Men reject. Sure Abe Sapien is sort of like a gay C3PO. Sure John Hurt is the only decent actor here, and it's the laughable how serious he is. Sure this film has the symptoms of Razzie material. Sure it was released by Revolution Studios. But it is an exciting, entertaining and endearing film. A film where a character's intentions are "explained and not conveyed" through the dialogue of other characters. As in Mimic, Hellboy's protagani are facing humanoid demons that don't seem to follow any particular trend in Darwin's bioevolution. The dialogue, on the other hand, is funny. It is flawed - but it's pure mental comic book masturbation of the highest order. It may not have that whole "cinema" thing going on for it, as exhibited in late comic book adapts. of the highest order like X-Men and the ever-popular [that's about IT] series. As I said before - this is the sort of film that will be easily torn apart by bloodthirsty critics. Some may view del Toro's choice of presenting the idea of a Hellboy comic book existing within the world of the Hellboy comic book adapt. as corny and grounds for a cheap laugh or three (hint, hint) but I see it as another staple in a film which is trying to be bad. I don't mean it's trying to be boring or overly derivative or stupid - it's just trying to be silly, offering its characters just little enough emotional depth to accept. As exhibited best in the first few minutes of the film, del Toro has the gift of making stuff look cool. Whereas Blade II was stupid, and Mimic was also pretty stupid, Hellboy is witty, visually vibrant, exciting, thrilling, chilling, skilling and illing. Word. There are many happy returns to mediocrity, plot holes and character flaws. Selma Blair feels tacked on - an excuse for a female character. Hellboy is a bit one note. The "new guy" character is sort of broadly drawn. The guy from Frasier. The story is sort of difficult to follow - namely, WHY Rasputin needs Hellboy to destroy the world, what that thing in space is (what the hell is it? I honestly don't know! Do you? No, no you don't!) why that guy in the gas-mask seems to be living forever as well. All in all, this is one of those films you'll love or hate depending on your intelligence, and sense of humor. Also, it's shocking how much time is wasted in this film - but at the same time, it's also shocking how short and long it is at the same time. And Abe Sapien vanishes without a trace for the entire third act. Why do I like this movie? Somebody please tell me. I know I didn't dislike it. But there's so much wrong with it.
Reviews
7 Reviews
Mystic River
(2003)
Why you shouldn't try to make a good movie.
6 March 2004
Warning: Spoilers
On the whole, Mystic River is a lot like Sean Penn's Oscar winning performance in the film. At times it is brilliant, meticulously crafted, restrained and understated - tearing at the heartstrings of viewers, simultaneously inspiring empathy and repulsion. At other times, it is overblown, overdone, overwritten, overplayed, ham-handed, difficult to buy, contrived and silly. On the rarest of occasions, it's confusing (not the plot, which attempts to spellbind, but the relevance of certain characters, scenes and unintentional laughs.) Before I saw this film, I heard that Sean Penn would be attending his first Oscar ceremony to "support Mystic River" and I witnessed Tim Robbins' wife (or girlfriend? I can proudly say I don't know) Susan Sarandon stress the social relevance and importance of the film, and vaguely alluding to her belief that it was more deserving of a "special effects thing movie" like the UTTERLY GODLIKE AND BENEVOLENT Lord of the Rings: Return of the King. LOTR: ROTK features everything that makes a movie great, except for great acting. Mystic River is sort of the opposite: the only thing that makes it a good movie are the consummate performances of Oscar winners Tim Robbins and Sean Penn. I enjoyed this movie for the acting, so I won't go into much detail about how I found these two performance flawed, they are nearly flawless. Marcia Gay Harden is pitiful - she's playing dumb, but it comes out retarded. Laura Linney, who nabbed a Best Actress nomination, for some reason, is just as bad. Kevin Bacon and Lawrence Fishburne have somehow channeled Nick Nolte and Eddie Murphy from 48 Hrs. The dialogue is stilted at times - hearing an otherwise good actor like Fishburne talk about how "you can tell he's done time - they carry it in the shoulders" is just awkward and uncomfortable. There are certain scenes that recall the polished, just-the-facts ma'am quality of Helgeland's work on L.A. Confidential, but his script is immensely flawed, and this bungles some of the performances - the characters are generally underwritten. The movie has too much unnecessary dialogue, The Mrs. Devine subplot is utterly pointless, the film lacks a strong female character, and the strong male characters are too strong. The emotions secrete from these actors in brief, pained bursts. The film is restrained, but in a bad way. The subplot of the daughter going to Vegas with her boyfriend helps explain the ending (this isn't a spoiler, don't worry) but there's no explanation for why she's leaving. The climax (where "all is explained") feels scattershot and tacked on. The question remains, why is all this socially relevant? Has this story never been told before? A lot of critics think the film has a message about the patterns of violence and sexual abuse, passed down from generation to generation. This WOULD be the case, had Helgeland included in his screenplay the notion from Lehane's novel of Danny Boyle becoming a child molester as a result of his own sexual abuse - an essential part of the story, that would make it more difficult for us to feel sorry for Robbins. Is ALL of the violence in this movie portrayed as completely pointless and unfair? Yes - that isn't the case in real life. The worst offender, I'm afraid to say, is Clint Eastwood. His direction is actually quite good in a technical sense, but his camera moves too much, and pleads with the viewer to understand how tense he wants him or her to feel. His score is decent (I use that term sparingly,) but certain moments are definitely given terrible cues. The film's 137 minutes feels a bit shorter, and that's a plus, but I'm not sure it knows what it wants to be? There's too much going on here for it to have a real message - it's just a good mystery. It's not important or relevant because it doesn't offer a conclusion to the film's hypothesis.
Dogville
(2003)
Almost good on paper.
6 March 2004
Warning: Spoilers
Breaking the Waves, Dancer in the Dark and Dogville are three Dogme films, directed by Lars Trier in the English language. The lead roles in these films are doting, stereotypical female character. Why is Dogville Trier's best film? It isn't. First of all, Trier's choice to film Dogville on a stage makes for a very Brechtian experience, sans the alienation. Dogville attempts to be as alienating as the aforementioned two, but rests on its laurels for a good portion of this overlong film. Many interesting themes are explored throughout the films three hour duration: Christian guilt, entitlement, dehumanization. In the end, you feel, not unlike its protagonist, raped, taken advantage of and chained up like a dog. The film is shot on a stage - sets are indicated by chalk markings. It's also shot in HDTV. In this sense the film feels like nothing we've seen before. Although Peter Greenaway (sort of) took a stab at the filmed-play format with Prospero's Books, Dogville being on a stage makes it all the more limited and claustrophobic. The story doesn't have any comment on these themes I've mentioned. It's just a neverending downer with no true purpose except an arena for Trier to punish his weak female characters. The town slowly turns against Grace, and soon they are torturing and raping her. Confused, ignorant, immature, jerks who, we are supposed to believe in our heart of hearts, feel they are completely justified in their actions. Men are portrayed as cruel polymorphously conniving cowardly crafty and evil subhuman. Women are portrayed as stupid, confused, overly possessive, insecure, vacuous, equally cruel, bullying and matriarchal. I try to avoid spoilers in my reviews, but I'm trying to prove a point here. I might be mistaken, but I'll take my crack at it. I think, at first we're supposed to believe that these people are good. Grace enters their simple world and finds a safe haven, a pure simple kind of life - a departure from whatever horrible, living hell she emigrated from. They show their teeth, and at the end, hell opens up and they are judged. The ending is so a-bit-much, violent, disturbing, unsettling, gut-wrenching and just plain VILE, but is such a fitting conclusion for this film. It's almost as if Trier creates these evil characters, and destroys them - but attempts to make this more than a revenge pic. Sad but true, he does depict these evil characters as victims of their own nature. We understand their behavior, but we cannot forgive them. Trier is manipulative, but at least he's good at it. At times he thinks he's channeling Felinni and Bergman with his unapologetic depictions of desolation, hopelessness, loneliness, emptiness and sadness through the ridicule of his characters, but he's too angry, he's too disturbed. There is little grace (no pun intended)in the way he stresses these messages. The problem is, he's overintellectualizing them. He's attempting to show us that people really are treated this way. I'm not sure if he's using this film as a One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nestesque metaphor for society (in keeping with "USA" trilogy) or creating an arena to showcase his internal anarchy or ferocity. It isn't clear if he just wants to make us feel bad as him or as bad as we should. Any way you look at it, this is the sort of film which can't be deemed good or bad. Then again, in this case, textbook filmmaking techniques have been eschewed in favor of a minimalist, theatrical approach. Without the frills of a major motion picture the focus is on the acting and story. The acting is a mixed bag: Chloe [name I can't spell], Philip Baker Hall, Stellan Skarsgard and Lauren Bacall deliver lame performances, while Nicole Kidman, Paul Bettany, Patricia Clarkson and [the guy who played the mayor on Oz who, in Dogville, plays a miniature version of Lenny from Of Mice and Men] steal the show. The dialogue is very well-written. The structure of the screenplay is difficult to judge because it is mostly a catalyst for Trier to play out his ugly fantasies. This isn't a review, but if it was I would say see it, one thumb sideways, N/A+ and see it for free if you can.
The Man Who Wasn't There
(2001)
The critic who didn't care
5 March 2004
Ask yourself one question: Do you feel lucky, Coen?, to paraphrase a line from "Dirty Harry." To say that The Man Who Wasn't There is the first stinker to bear the Coen brothers name is questionable. A lot of people didn't care for Hudsucker Proxy, but it's a lot funnier and a lot more endearing than TMWWT. The Coens are misunderstood. First of all their name is pronounced "Cone" not "Co-hen," seeing as though they're Irish and not Jewish. That's not such a big deal. The fact that critics championed this film as post-noir is somewhat laughable. Like in the aforementioned HUDSUCKER, the Bros. Co-hinn's attempt to emulate an arcane cinematechnique results in an unintentional parody of the genre. While they can produce really good post-noir like Blood Simple and Fargo, TMWWT shows that they may be taking themselves a little too seriously. First of all, the plot relies on a seemingly endless series of unfeasible coincidences. The film itself relies on the viewer to take some pity on Billy Bob Thorton's Barber - an apologetic, monotonous, boring loser whose flirtatious wife, Frances McDormand, is perpetually having an affair. This is impossible because the character is difficult to understand. Thorton's performance makes this even more difficult, since he's so boring. He can't be funny - when he tries to be funny it's sad, and vice versa. Frances McDormand's character, who always seems to be drunk, is involved with Tony Soprano. Tony Soprano's wife is, apparently, insane. Now you know how it goes from here: somebody who's involved in something does something to somebody who's involved with someone who's involved in something somehow relate to the something that someone is doing to someone, and then, the end. Unfortunatley, after all the film-noir parody - yes, film noir parody - is over and done with, there's a tacked on plot with Ms. Lost in Translation in what i would call an unfortunate performance in the sense that she's too modern and too arrogant to be featured in a period piece. Thorton thinks she has a chance of making it, so he emotionally invests himself in ensuring a better life for this girl who wow's him with her ability to note read Beethoven. The courtroom scenes are the height of tedium. Calling this dramedy is a laugh. If you believe the lines "he said I was modern man" are anything other than comedy, you're sadly mistaken. The plot twists and turns so much - it doesn't make sense, and it isn't entertaining. The acting is bad, it's too long, it doesn't work as a comedy. Film noir is just about dark subject matter - sometimes the plots twist a lot, and spellbinds and creates more tension and mystery and confusion - that's what makes it great. Then finally, everything is explained at the end. This is the most unapologetically inarticulate of their genre-parodies. It isn't nearly a comment. It's a plea to a sedate audience that film noir plots should be lampooned for their dense, multi-faceted layers - more films like this should be made! Nothing is sacred anymore! The fact that some movies rely on many stories distilled and jam-packed together into two and 1/2 hours is funny! If this was a straight comedy, it would've worked. It ain't and it don't.
Take the Money and Run
(1969)
1st & Last & ALWAYS
8 February 2004
This is the first Woody Allen movie I was ever "subjected" to. When I was but a wee lad, I thought it funny, and unlike any of the modern, child-friendly comedies I had been exposed to. Reflecting upon it, a man, I see its flaws and could've-been-betters, but I still think it vastly underrated. As his first real film, Allen deserves to be cut some slack. I have never been a huge fan of his mock-documentaries -- in fact, I don't think I liked a single one -- but this is by far the funniest. This is the unofficial first effort in Woody Allen's "funny" era, and it is still timeless. Allen is still a bit wet-behind-the-years, but a comedic leviathan-i.t., nevertheless. Pic suffers from a meticulously crafted comedic structure -- it has no narrative arc -- rather, it hits a plateau of jokes and, towards the end, is an unintentionally depressing experience. The very qualities for which Allen is now mocked and lampooned by far less-gifted individuals -- such as his paranoid everybody-is-out-to-get-me schtick -- are what make pic enjoyable. A few could've-been-betters I wish to dote on are Allen's tendency to cast his love interests (Louise Lasser being the least funny of the female opposites he has cast over the years); his use of awkward, fumbling performances as a type of incidental comedy (I'm not even sure if this is intentional); and his casting, which would also improve over the years. An incredible improvement over TIGER LILY, pic is a shining example of comedy without a movie: clever (not laugh-out-laugh funny) vignettes stringing together a weak story -- before Allen became a true filmmaker with Sleeper. C+
What's Up, Tiger Lily?
(1966)
dated and could-be-funnier, but important
8 February 2004
Though the technique of re-dubbing terrible Japanese movies with funny dialogue may have been improved upon (and, arguably, perfected) in KUNG POW, given the fact that the early 21st century editing technology enabled its director/actor/writer to place himself in certain scenes, WHAT'S UP, TIGER LILY is immensely funny, for what it is. It relies more on quirky, pointed comedy writing rather then spastic, physical comedy. This film began the long string of Woody Allen's "early, funny movies," which focused more on sight-gags, and absurd humor. Many believe Allen hit his stride with his critically acclaimed "relationship introspection" pieces -- but TIGER LILY will withstand the test of time, purely because it is an effortless slab of silly, simple-minded gags and lighthearted language comedy (think: Mel Brooks' slower moments.) It is questionable is this film may have influenced Airplane, Austin Powers, etc., but underneath its transparent skin are the makings of those classic, genre-parodies. C
Thirteen
(2003)
unlucky number
1 February 2004
Tolstoy once said that all dysfunctional families are different, and all happy families are the same. Then again, it might be the other way around -- I'm not sure, I can't remember and I don't care (neither do you.) As THIRTEEN (the new film which, in the words of my thirteen year-old little nephew, we're all supposed to go "oooh oooh" about) wishes to stress that all dysfunctional families ARE the same. THIRTEEN may have a lot of heart, but that's it's problem. It's nothing but heart, and has very little [sympathy] for its supposed hero. If I'm not mistaken, this film was written by a thirteen year-old; it's called thirteen; and it's about thirteen year-olds -- this makes it unique - a film experiment of sorts. In fact, when I heard about it in all the "thinking man's" magazines, not much attention was paid to the quality. It reminds me of the fifteen year-old writer I read about in the Times, who had his first novel published on a whim by some stupid publisher. The content and quality are irrelevant, the fact that a thirteen year-old girl can write a screenplay is so astonishing (to some) that the movie is instantly garners some attention. And, I will grudgingly admit, it deserves it. This is the first movie to (sort of) address jailbait, or underage girls who are sexually active. Although their exploits do not reach far beyond sucking off the occasional brown-skinned fellow (which was a strange choice by the writers, but makes sense in its own little way) the sexual encounters are well executed, but everything else in the movie is stilted, and unrealistic. The first thing in the film that not only surprised, but genuinely upset me, is that Rachael is not a depressed character, yet she cuts herself and lashes out at her recovering drug-addict mother with venom. She's an empty vessel, a dimensionless character -- a large, clean dinner plate encompassing every teen "issue" on the menu. Whereas most sad, little girls mutilate themselves because (according to some "experts") the healing of the cuts makes them happy, echoing the purgation of inner pain -- Rachael is an afterschool special; every "Lifestories: Families in Crisis" character ever. The "dysfunctional family" scenes are so hokey, they're comical (such as Rachael and her brother, Mason, playing tug-of-war with a broom) and the fact that we view them through lame director Catherine Hardwicke's use of the dutch-angle shot and shake and bake-cam packs all the more pulled punches. The idea that a thirteen year-old could write a screenplay does not baffle me. I recently saw a film called "White Oleander" with an equally clumsy narrative structure, which was written by an adult (who probably has a PHD in pap) and you wouldn't know it was about a dysfunctional family if you didn't see the trailer. The thirteen year-old white girls who dress like gucci models, dance to hip-hop music and scream for joy at the thought of hooking up with the "hot guy" at their school; Rachael goes "yesss!" and starts dancing when the most popular girl in school invites her to hang -- these are a few "real" moments in the movie that are gone about terribly by the writers and director. Another example is the implicit reference to the fact that Rachael feels obligated to "keep the change," as they say, the first time she performs oral sex on a man. I feel like I'm going against everything I believe in as a film critic in saying this, but this is one of those films that doesn't rely on craft, but gets an unhealthy dose of it from the director. Don't see it, I suggest Heavenly Creatures which it is almost identical to in every way, and far superior by traditional film/literary standards.
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