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desperatethespian
Reviews
Munich (2005)
A scurrilous screed, more anti-Israel and offensive than Paradise Now
I am shocked. Simply numbed beyond words. With the release of 'Munich', Stephen Spielberg has created the most offensive, vicious attack on the integrity and validity of the State of Israel since, well, the widely-discredited book on which this paean to anti-Zionism was based. He has debased, defamed, impugned and offended every man, woman and child who has given his/her life for the creation and sustenance of the Jewish state. The man who has single-handedly made it his life mission to ensure that a vivid, living testimonial to the Holocaust and Jewish history endures has turned his back on the present and future of his people.
My objections do not entirely mirror those of many of the other reviews I've read. Sure, the targets of the Mossad team's assassinations are portrayed EXCLUSIVELY and SOLELY as lovers of literature, doting fathers, harmless flirts, refined and sophisticated family men, etc. rather than the terrorist masterminds that they were. And yes, the Palestinian characters in the piece are given free reign to inveigh passionately on the 'justice' of their cause and the gripes that they have, without so much as a peep of retort from anything remotely resembling anything pro-Israeli. In fact, some of the lines that the Israelis say make them sound more bloodthirsty, parochial, self-obsessed and evil than the docile, art-loving, universalist Palestinian terrorists they are dispatched to eliminate (oh, were they terrorists? I was too busy watching them insist on paying for milk at the grocery store and translating works of literature to remember why they were being hunted). Lines like 'the only blood I care about is Jewish blood' and 'how do you think we got this land?! Through violence!' (paraphrase) were clearly not intended to elicit the same sympathy that seeing a terrorist who's planned the murder of innocents tenderly speak to his daughter is supposed to. So it's unbalanced. So there were speeches that bothered me. Eh, I can live with that. It's just a movie, after all, and Hollywood artisans are bound to put their own spins on hot-button political topics, and one cannot expect it to be anything more than oversimplified and one-sided in the context of a film.
Similarly, I disagreed with Spielberg's central assertion, repeated over and over throughout the film, that meting out punishment to criminals that fit the crimes they commit ONLY results in more crime, i.e. that violence begets ONLY violence. (In case you didn't quite get it the first hundred times it's brought up in such wink-wink, none-too-subtle references as immediately following the Mossad team's bombing of a terrorist with a terrorist bombing of innocents in the very next scene, the movie ends with an excruciatingly long shot of the World Trade Center. Get it? 9/11 stems from the fact that victims of terror have the audacity to strike back at their oppressors rather than succumbing to their wishes, which in turn leads the terrorists to strike again, Hint hint). The very famous, and equally tired, 'cycle of violence' lament. This sort of hippie-dippie, passive, thinking is a hallmark of the extreme left, and the kind of thinking that led to World War II, when Hitler's megalomaniacal moves were met by concession and appeasement by the West. It's the sort of thinking that would have invited Osama bin Laden for dialogue, or turned the other cheek, rather than pursuing him, after 9/11. What makes Spielberg's dope-smoking, turn-the other cheek, peace on earth nonsense all the more preposterous is that he does not even offer an alternative to exacting revenge on criminals and terrorists. He doesn't suggest dialogue as a viable means of righting a wrong or any other means of reconciliation. He only condemns: saying, implicitly and explicitly, through the voices of the characters and the consequences of their actions, exacting revenge on those who harm you is bad, ineffective, even morally equivalent (note the reprehensible interspersing of the voices naming the names of the 11 athletes and the 11 terrorists in one of the early sequences of the film, suggesting a moral equivalence between their deaths) and tantamount to terror. But he does not offer any discernible alternative, other than to roll over and die. That's been tried, for hundreds of years of Jewish history. It doesn't quite work.
Much as all of the aforementioned bothered me, I was willing to accept the film as an exciting, intriguing, if not entirely balanced work of art...until the last fifteen or so minutes. That's when it became clear that Spielberg had a vicious agenda to promote, one that is all the more hurtful, offensive, callous and Judas-esquire, insofar as it comes from the mind of a man who is purportedly a great admirer and fan of the state of Israel, but who comes off making a statement that would be more fitting in the works of Norman Finkelstein, Noam Chomsky, or worse.
King Kong (2005)
Um, am I the only man alive who wasn't too enamored of this film?
Yes, the special effects were spectacular. And if you're an action-adventure type fan, this film has enough scenes to keep you on the edge of your seat for the whole 3 (or was it 30?) hours...
I was 12 when I walked into the theater to see 'King Kong'. And now I'm 27. And no matter how innovative and some aspects of the film were, that's just wrong. When new CGI techniques are invented between the time the film starts and ends, it's just too damn long.
I was not terribly impressed. Long, overbearing, redundant (HOW many battle scenes can I sit through? This was like all six Star Wars movies run one after the other), ATROCIOUS casting of principals (Jack Black was absolutely wrong for the part, Adrien Brody did nothing for me either...the lesser known actors who played supporting members of the hit squad were far, far better), and despite an enormous fx budget and some very interesting and twisted looking creatures, some terribly green-screened looking sequences (the infamous brontosaurus stampede is laughable) to the point where it looked as if they were going for satire, or a remake of 1933 technology.
Clearly though, I was in the minority. A number of people who saw it at my screening (those who didn't walk out in the middle, and there were a few of them) sat in stunned silence as the final credits played, apparently too awestruck to move. But why? Because the big gorilla died? How come nobody cared when the pterodactyls went down. That was traumatizing to me.
And did you notice that the protagonists of ever interracial relationship in the movie died, but most of the white folks who befriended white folks survived? What does this say about Peter Jackson's notions on the gorgeous mosaic of humanity? Eh, worth seeing for its scale and great effects, but by no means a classic.
Rent (2005)
Emotionally vapid, far too long, deeply disappointing
Let me preface this mostly negative, disappointed review by unequivocally stating that I am a huge fan of Rent, the Broadway musical. I'm not quite as big a fanatic as some of the serious Rentheads out there, but I've seen the show at least half a dozen times, and know virtually the entire score by heart (I even got through several rounds of auditions for Mark many moons ago.) I _LOVE_ Rent, it's a beautiful, heart-warming, invigorating, stirring piece, THE musical of my generation, and the emotional wallop and resonance it has doesn't diminish with time or repeated viewings.
Those accolades are, I'm afraid, reserved for the musical version alone. The film, despite featuring virtually the entire fantastic original cast is disappointing, disjointed, detached, and -- a word I'd never think I'd ever associate with Rent -- downright boring. How can this be, considering the film is about as faithful (if not moreso) to the original as any book-to-screen or play-to-screen adaptation I've ever seen? I'm not quite certain. The best I can come up with, without attributing blame to any one facet or member of the creative team, is a blanket, sobering statement that this is a dramatic work of excellent art that was simply never made for the screen.
The version of Rent that swept the 1996 Tonys and has taken the world by storm over the past 9 years was very likely never intended to be the 'final cut'. It's quite possible that had Jonathan Larson lived out a full life, (or at the very least, another 525,600 minutes...long enough to see the previews on Broadway) he would have made significant changes to the structure of the book and score. But the tragic circumstances of his death resulted in the script to be treated as something sacrosanct and immutable. Consequently, Rent has something of a discombobulated arc, uneven development of certain sub-story lines etc. But seeing it performed live (and if you never have, you're doing yourself a disservice) with a first-rate cast, music booming and blasting through the rafters, incredible dancing, and emotion oozing off the stage mitigates any structural shortcomings. Rent is such a spectacle, it is such an electric, awesome experience, that you're willing to suspend disbelief and look past certain things. On film, where much captivating element of the experience is muted, the holes are more glaring. It just doesn't play well.
Part of that has to do with the nature of the medium. We've grown accustomed in the last few decades to considering film to be the most 'realistic' portrayal of reality, or at least a heightened reality. In the theater on the other hand, we're far more inclined to be forgiving. On stage, two characters who don't know one another at the beginning of a song can be in love at the end, and that's completely plausible -- we don't give it a second thought. In a film, even a musical film, it's just plain weird. When Mimi is deeply hurt by Roger's spurning her after meeting him only once and begs him to reconsider, it works fine on stage, where it can be assumed that much that we have not seen before our eyes has progressed either between or during the song. In the film, which by it's nature strives to portray a certain reality (even if characters break into song every few seconds), it's just odd. Even more odd is director Chris Columbus' choice to have main characters sing in the background of scenes that they are ostensibly not a part of. On stage, that's not something you notice...your eyes are focused on the principal characters in a scene, and your mind forgives the otherwise unusual presence of others lurking in the background providing a little vocal boost. But when the camera pans over the faces and does closeups -- for an extended period of time, mind you! -- of uninvolved characters like Collins, Angel, Mark et al. during Mimi's early scene begging Roger to let himself be with her, or during the 'private' fight Maureen and Joanne have at the commitment ceremony, it's just plain bizarre. What are they doing there? Are they some kind of bohemian Greek chorus?
A big part of the reason that your mind is allowed to wander and ponder such things is because Rent the movie just doesn't mesmerize you like Rent the Musical does. There's just something about seeing people singing their hearts out loud live, an orchestra pumping out melodies that envelop the theater, that's absolutely riveting. Angel's death scene in the theater is heart-wrenching, on film it's only mildly disturbing. Mimi's near death is a cathartic, climactic moment, in the film, when she gets up and they all immediately decide to watch Mark's movie and sing, it plays like something out of The Naked Gun or Police Academy. Angel's introductory dance in the theater is amazing, no matter who's playing the role. In the film -- despite being performed by the originator of the role -- it drags on and on. And as you sit there watching the images passing before your eye, your foot tapping excitedly to a tune you've heard a thousand times that sounds familiar but somehow isn't eliciting the same response you've had every other time you've seen it, you start to wonder...how come these guys are all so friendly to one another? Does this dude normally jump into strangers' houses and dance provocatively? Would straight guys not flinch if a transvestite they didn't know burst into their house and start provocatively shaking his/her hoo-ha in front of their face? And when exactly did all those buddy-buddy relationships between Maureen and Mimi, Angel and Benny, Joanne and Roger, Maureen and Angel etc. develop? We don't even see them meet and they're all best friends? This is the kind of stuff you don't notice or care to notice on stage...but in this long, drawn out production, your mind starts to wander...
Diary of a Political Tourist (2004)
Pretty boring
I wouldn't quite describe myself as a political junkie, but as an independent film actor with a keen interest in politics --particularly this year -- you'd think this film would pique my interest.
So did I. But it didn't.
Pelosi definitely has a sense of humor, and either her pedigree, her success with the first film, or her charming personality has afforded her a sort of personal rapport with politicians I haven't seen exhibited with any other media types. But...that's it. You can tell the various wannabes are intrigued to be with her (most of them anyway), and in just a few short minutes of her footage you can tell certain things about certain men...Gephardt is the quintessential politician, always upbeat, always happy and confident about everything...Edwards is rather curt and rude...Bush something of an obsessed egoist (repeating to Pelosi a couple of times that he "made you famous!") Kerry has a big head etc., but Pelosi doesn't really do anything with the unique access that she is afforded. In a word, the film is...pretty boring. What seems like it might turn out to be a fascinating expose, an inside look at men we see on TV every night but don't know at all beyond their polished images, teases and then falls short.
It simply doesn't go anywhere. You slog through almost an hour and a half of...well, not much more than what we've seen on the nightly news for the last year and a half, plus a couple of cutaways. There are no moments that would be Candid Camera worthy, and even at half its current length it still would've felt too long. She needed more...moments, more insights, more truths that we're not privy to from the mainstream media to make this film worthwhile. And there aren't any. Towards the end of the film, she gives John Kerry a big speech outlining what her goals for the film were. They went through one ear and out the other; whatever they were, they just didn't succeed.
I didn't see Journeys with George. I assume that was a far better, more insightful film, one which gave Ms. Pelosi the clout to create another, similarly themed movie this year. Unfortunately for Pelosi, if HBO makes a determination every political season as to the worthiness of her latest endeavor, and on that basis determines whether to broadcast/fund her project in the next election cycle, there will be no "Chillin' with Hill and Bill" in 2008.
Despite all this, I'd love to meet her. She's purrty, obviously smart, politically savvy, and has a great sense of humor. Alexandra, if you're reading this, forgive my harsh words and email me! :)
Spider-Man 2 (2004)
What superhero movies would be like if left in the hands of the writers from the Oxygen network
Despite the cynical title, allow me to preface this review by stating that I liked this film. I really, truly, genuinely did. In fact, I'll even take it one step further; this may be the VERY BEST SUPERHERO MOVIE _EVER_MADE...and that's coming from a fan, (though not a fanatic) of the genre.
Why the ambivalence then? Because this movie is not perfect. In truth, it's far from perfect; it plays more like a rough draft or first cut of something that could be much better.
What Spiderman 2 does do so successfully is introduce many new elements heretofore unseen in action movies: character, plot, drama, and real conflict. The director and writer are not content making Spidey and the people in his world one-dimensional comic-book cutouts (pardon the pun); instead, these are real characters, with real dilemmas, real feeling, and real conflicting sense of responsibility and desire. In other words, they are far more human. And successfully allowing viewers to be sucked in to another world, in which we can vicariously live through and observe others' conflicts and be riveted by what we see, is the hallmark of great film.
The problem, in a nutshell, is that the movie does far too much of this. Sure, there are awesome special effects, great battle scenes, and wonderful vistas of real and computer-assisted, imagined New York (and Chicago standing in for New York; note train scene) but there is also almost as much melodrama and as many soap opera-ish momements in Spidey's world as you'd find in Susan Lucci. I got excited when I think I finally found one scene in which the major players' eyes did NOT well up with tears; they probably used more nitro-glycerine in this movie (or whatever chemical it is that they put into actors' eyes to create fake tears) than the number of doughnuts Albert Molina ate on set (and when you see how fat and blubbery this dude is in his sexy, revealing Dr. Octopus outfit, you'll know that that number ain't too small.) After a while, even the most seasoned Danielle Steel readers dragged into the audience by their violence-loving kids/husbands will start longing for another epic cartoon battle scene, rather than having to watch any more of James Franco's teary eye infection blown up on the huge screen scene after scene.
But I admired the film. I really did. I think it will serve as a trendsetter for future action films. Hell, it may even be studied as an example of how one CAN make a film that incorporates wonderful fantasy violence, characters with super-human powers, bizarre villains etc. without insulting the intelligence of the audience and boring them to tears whenever the CGI doesn't have them gawking at the screen (are you listening, George Lucas?)
The acting is uniformly good; Tobey Maguire, an actor I was never particularly impressed with (in no small part because we're about the same age, both actors, and while he's a mega-superstar, I'm sitting here writing reviews on IMDb at 12:44 AM), did a surprisingly excellent job. Kirsten Dunst is not just another pretty face, and whoever played Aunt May is clearly a seasoned actress. The only one I wasn't particularly thrilled with was Alfred Molina. I'm not certain if that's because he simply couldn't quite convey the same kind of electrifying excitement that other superhero villains have in recent years (Jack Nicholson, Willem Defoe, Gene Hackman) or because everytime he appeared on screen, I kept expecting him to rip off the tentacles, revealing a black caftan and a fuzzy hat, and break out into an impassioned, foot-stomping rendition of "Tradition". Kind of unsuspended my suspended disbelief. I've never understood why producers/directors of highly-anticipated, much-heralded, big-budget films choose not to sign the very *best* actors to play key roles. You know that Jeremy Irons, Alan Rickman, Patrick Stewart, and a host of other great middle-aged actors with funny accents would have been thrilled to play this role...why did they settle on the less-known, and far more droll Molina? Same goes for Hayden Christensen, but that comment is in that film's review.
Speaking of disbelief, as I mentioned above, the writing is quite tight, and I loved the fact that they actually spent SOME of the $200 million dollar budget on writers who had taken courses in dramatic writing a tad more advanced than 7th Grade Haikus (are you listening George LUCAS?!) Nevertheless, there were a couple of scenes (cf. the doctor's conversation with Parker, and Aunt May's "Henry Jackson" speech) that seemed to come completely out of left field. They were clearly intended to push the plot/"with great powers come great responsibility" motif, but they were so contrived, and so out-of-flow with the rest of the seamless dialogue that those two scenes managed to unsuspend my suspension of disbelief. Those two scenes contained the only moments I'd reckon were entirely unbelievable in the film, and to be able to say that about a movie in which people fall from buildings without so much as a scratch, and a jumpy trapeeze dude in a Spider suit sets on a mission to stop a criminal with electric octopus hands from harnessing the sun's energy to destroy the world...well, that should tell you something about the overall terrible quality of the writing in those two scenes.
All in all, a flawed film, about flawed human beings. But it's a trailblazer and a trendsetter nonetheless. Highly enjoyable, and I highly recommend it.