Primrose Everdeen (Willow Shields) has nothing to worry about. At least, that's what her older sister Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence) says. Primrose's name is only in the Reaping once - which means she has a very, very small chance of being selected to participate in the Hunger Games. But when the fateful day comes, Primrose's name is the one pulled out of the glass bowl. Katniss immediately volunteers to take her little sister's place. And, just like that, she and Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) are whisked away from dirt-poor District 12 to the sparkling Capitol. In a few short days, they find themselves inside an arena with twenty-two other young men and women in a fight to the death - the Hunger Games. But Katniss is determined to come through alive. After all, she promised her sister that she would do everything she could to win.
A good movie adaptation should always try to stay close to its source material. Unfortunately, the definition of "close" can be disputed when the two media are as different as books and movies. But no matter what definition one uses, The Hunger Games movie is very close to the book.
After the text in the beginning of the movie explains the concept behind the Games, the intensity jumps in and completely takes over. Right from the outset, terror reigns supreme. Primrose is terrified of being chosen, and though Katniss gently comforts her, the overall impression of the scene is one of entrapment in a cruel, unfair situation with an undertone of fear. This continues throughout the movie, getting successively amped up as the story develops. Considering that the book has a similar level of intensity (though not as immediate), this was quite an achievement for the filmmakers.
The level of intensity is not the only similarity between the movie and the book. The story is virtually identical, which is to be expected when one considers that Suzanne Collins, the author, helped write the screenplay. However, the most startingly accurate part is the characters. The casting job was about as perfect as it could be. Haymitch (Woody Harrelson) is maybe a little better looking than I would have made him, but everybody else is pretty much spot-on. Jennifer Lawrence, one of the best actresses I have ever seen, is Katniss to a T. Josh Hutcherson is gentle Peeta - but with a masculine side that could easily have been left out. Liam Hemsworth plays a strong, rebellious Gale. Even Donald Sutherland is good in his part. (Of course, bad actors are particularly good at exuding insincerity, so don't go thinking that this is an Academy-Award-worthy performance.)
However, while the story and characters don't deviate one iota from the book, there are a few themes left by the wayside. For example, the Capitol still exerts complete (or nearly complete) control over its citizens. But the Capitol as a mysterious, almost omnipotent - and almost faceless - power just doesn't exist in the movie. Whereas in the book the leaders are seen by Katniss from afar and only occasionally, these same leaders have their own scenes in the movie. This lowers the creepy sense of "The Capitol" that makes it akin to "Them" or "The Others." In other words, the sense of a looming, unseen (and, therefore, unassessed) power is largely gone.
Generally, I like to watch movies before I read the books on which they're based. Because books are nearly always much better than their movies, I get to enjoy the same story twice without being disappointed by the second version. But this movie is very, very close to the book - and is therefore not a disappointment. Because of this, Suzanne Collins's The Hunger Games should be read before watching this movie. The book has much more depth - and explains things barely touched upon by the movie. On the other hand, while the movie doesn't quite live up to the book, it's still an enjoyable experience. That is, if your hands don't lock up after gripping the arms of your seat for two hours and twenty minutes.
Note: Since such a big deal has been made of it, I think I should address the issue of the violence. Is it too violent for a tweenager? Definitely. But I wouldn't go so far as to slap an "R" rating on it. There's a little blood, spears, necks broken by hands, and other kinds of violence. Much of it is hand-to-hand. But most of it is also filmed with a jerky camera or not quite seen. Because it doesn't have the same psychological terror associated with it, I would say that this movie is not as violent as The Dark Knight. But then, that's not saying a whole lot.
My Rating: T/MT (violence, intensity)
Showing posts with label mt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mt. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Onegin (1999)
Onegin (Ralph Fiennes) is a lonely, bored, spoilt aristocrat. He has no real friends, a cash supply that can no longer support his decadent lifestyle, and absolutely no goals in life. Then his uncle dies and leaves him an inheritance that includes both money and a country estate. Onegin leaves St. Petersburg for this estate - and, once there, decides to stay. Suddenly life seems better. He makes a close friend and meets a beautiful young lady named Natalya (Liv Tyler). Can a man ever really change? Or does a long life of sophistication and pride leave him without the backbone to alter his future?
This movie really hasn't much story development. At least, compared with the five to eight hour masterpieces made by the BBC. Suffice it to say that the novel on which Onegin is based was written in verse - and that this is highly appropriate in light of the poetic justice that is meted out at the end. Choices - some good and some bad - are paramount. This is true with the choices made by the filmmakers as well.
Onegin moves at a dreamlike pace in parts. The movie is really only about an hour and forty-five minutes long, but it seems much longer. This is helped in part by the frequent use of slow-motion filming. In general, slow motion should not be used in movies. It jerks the viewer out of the movie and into his/her seat and lends a very melodramatic atmosphere to whatever scene upon which it has been inflicted. The slow motion in Onegin, on the other hand, is sometimes used in good taste. Feelings like boredom and despair are portrayed well by the use of slow motion. But the technique is used too frequently, and it becomes evident that slow motion is being used to create the illusion of a longer movie.
Having said all that, one of the most redeeming qualities of the movie is that it is visually quite pretty. The filmmakes chose Liv Tyler as the lead female role. Normally a bad actress and a bit strange looking, she fits Tatyana's part perfectly and is absolutely gorgeous. Her clothes and hair are stunning throughout the movie. She shines particularly brightly in the last few scenes of the movie, when her hair is not as severely twisted and her clothes are richer in color and texture. The choice of setting is very pretty as well. The Russian countryside is beautiful in both the winter and summer scenes.
Finally, the filmmakers chose to convey as much as possible visually and through dialogues that would naturally take place. For example, we see rather than are told that Onegin is a ladies' man (although I personally think this could have been left out, it's handled rather delicately). Later, Tatyana speaks of her troubles to no one, but what passes through her mind is evident by what she does (again, this could have been skipped or shown in a more family-friendly way). This is a good approach for a filmmaker to take. There are few things in movies that are more cringe-inducing than when unnatural dialogue, which would never have taken place in real life, is used to explain to the viewer certain plots developments. Like slow motion filming, such unnatural dialogue almost inevitably tears the viewer from the story.
In all, Onegin is a strange mixture of good and bad choices. This is evident in the story (which I will not reveal for spoiler reasons), but it is also evident in the way in which the filmmakers made the movie. The slow motion is sometimes effective - and sometimes not. The use of "show, don't tell" is effective - but also a bit risqué. In other words, it's a flawed but interesting movie, perfect for anyone willing to spend a slice of time on watching the consequences of choice.
My Rating: MT (bedroom scene between a man and wife, sexual content, sexual references , violence)
Note: Could be appropriate for younger teens if a few scenes are skipped
This movie really hasn't much story development. At least, compared with the five to eight hour masterpieces made by the BBC. Suffice it to say that the novel on which Onegin is based was written in verse - and that this is highly appropriate in light of the poetic justice that is meted out at the end. Choices - some good and some bad - are paramount. This is true with the choices made by the filmmakers as well.
Onegin moves at a dreamlike pace in parts. The movie is really only about an hour and forty-five minutes long, but it seems much longer. This is helped in part by the frequent use of slow-motion filming. In general, slow motion should not be used in movies. It jerks the viewer out of the movie and into his/her seat and lends a very melodramatic atmosphere to whatever scene upon which it has been inflicted. The slow motion in Onegin, on the other hand, is sometimes used in good taste. Feelings like boredom and despair are portrayed well by the use of slow motion. But the technique is used too frequently, and it becomes evident that slow motion is being used to create the illusion of a longer movie.
Having said all that, one of the most redeeming qualities of the movie is that it is visually quite pretty. The filmmakes chose Liv Tyler as the lead female role. Normally a bad actress and a bit strange looking, she fits Tatyana's part perfectly and is absolutely gorgeous. Her clothes and hair are stunning throughout the movie. She shines particularly brightly in the last few scenes of the movie, when her hair is not as severely twisted and her clothes are richer in color and texture. The choice of setting is very pretty as well. The Russian countryside is beautiful in both the winter and summer scenes.
Finally, the filmmakers chose to convey as much as possible visually and through dialogues that would naturally take place. For example, we see rather than are told that Onegin is a ladies' man (although I personally think this could have been left out, it's handled rather delicately). Later, Tatyana speaks of her troubles to no one, but what passes through her mind is evident by what she does (again, this could have been skipped or shown in a more family-friendly way). This is a good approach for a filmmaker to take. There are few things in movies that are more cringe-inducing than when unnatural dialogue, which would never have taken place in real life, is used to explain to the viewer certain plots developments. Like slow motion filming, such unnatural dialogue almost inevitably tears the viewer from the story.
In all, Onegin is a strange mixture of good and bad choices. This is evident in the story (which I will not reveal for spoiler reasons), but it is also evident in the way in which the filmmakers made the movie. The slow motion is sometimes effective - and sometimes not. The use of "show, don't tell" is effective - but also a bit risqué. In other words, it's a flawed but interesting movie, perfect for anyone willing to spend a slice of time on watching the consequences of choice.
My Rating: MT (bedroom scene between a man and wife, sexual content, sexual references , violence)
Note: Could be appropriate for younger teens if a few scenes are skipped
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Except the Dying
(Written by Maureen Jennings. First book in the Murdoch Mysteries series.) Detective William Murdoch of the Toronto Constabulary has quite a case on his hands. A servant girl was found dead in the snow - sans clothing. To make matters more complicated, she was pregnant. Where was she going on such a bitter night without a carriage? Why did she just lie down and die? Doesn't anyone know anything about her last few hours? And, most importantly, did someone help her to her death?
On a "Good Book" scale of one to ten, this ranks at about a two. The only reasons it doesn't reach lower are: Its good Victorian flavor and its lack of sex scenes. Other than that, there is really no reason why someone would want to read this book. The characters are generally either boring or annoying, the story is very much a cliché, and there is enough innuendo to stuff a mattress.
First, the characters. Now, I've seen most of the episodes from the first season of the Canadian television adaptation of this series of books. During that time, I fell in love with every one of the regular characters: Awkward but hard-working Constable Crabtree, gruff and humorous Inspector Brackenreid, professional and ladylike pathologist Doctor Ogden, and especially Murdoch, with his strong Catholic faith, shy nature, and head in the clouds of science. Then I read this book. Murdoch is totally different; none of the words I used to describe him would really apply. He's Catholic, though not particularly faithful, more disapproving than shy, and doesn't seem to be quite as involved in science. Constable Crabtree, instead of an awkward little bachelor, is a youngish married man with three kids. The Inspector, who hates politics in the shows, is fond of kissing up to various people in high places in the book. Doctor Ogden isn't even a character yet, although I am told she comes into the series later. In short, the characters were very much improved upon in the television series.
Next, the very straightforward story. Well, a young servant girl gets pregnant, and, although the culprit is unknown, it's pretty obvious that the man involved is the killer. Might it be the stable boy? Don't be ridiculous. What about the housekeeper's husband? Wrong again. Nope, it has to be someone from one of the city's more affluent families. It's not the son, either; he naturally has to be gay (something I saw from a mile off). In fact, I guessed the culprit almost from the outset, and the red herrings throughout the rest of the story turned out to be only mildly distracting.
Finally, the innuendo got a bit much. Or much too much. The victim was an unmarried mother and two key characters in this murder are prostitutes... and although the innuendo is written in Victorian language, it's still fairly clear. Page after page after page of sexual references gets very tiring, especially when there's really no humor, likeable characters, or interesting story to have as a counter-balance.
Though Jennings did a good job of using language and expressions that fit the Victorian time period of this historical novel, she did a very poor job of constructing a clean book with an interesting story and characters. Murdoch and Co. are fairly cardboard, the story is embarrassingly simple, and the innuendo is just too much. If you ever see this book on the shelf at the library, don't even waste the energy it takes to read the back cover.
My Rating: MT (constant innuendo, veiled homosexual reference, mild sexual content)
On a "Good Book" scale of one to ten, this ranks at about a two. The only reasons it doesn't reach lower are: Its good Victorian flavor and its lack of sex scenes. Other than that, there is really no reason why someone would want to read this book. The characters are generally either boring or annoying, the story is very much a cliché, and there is enough innuendo to stuff a mattress.
First, the characters. Now, I've seen most of the episodes from the first season of the Canadian television adaptation of this series of books. During that time, I fell in love with every one of the regular characters: Awkward but hard-working Constable Crabtree, gruff and humorous Inspector Brackenreid, professional and ladylike pathologist Doctor Ogden, and especially Murdoch, with his strong Catholic faith, shy nature, and head in the clouds of science. Then I read this book. Murdoch is totally different; none of the words I used to describe him would really apply. He's Catholic, though not particularly faithful, more disapproving than shy, and doesn't seem to be quite as involved in science. Constable Crabtree, instead of an awkward little bachelor, is a youngish married man with three kids. The Inspector, who hates politics in the shows, is fond of kissing up to various people in high places in the book. Doctor Ogden isn't even a character yet, although I am told she comes into the series later. In short, the characters were very much improved upon in the television series.
Next, the very straightforward story. Well, a young servant girl gets pregnant, and, although the culprit is unknown, it's pretty obvious that the man involved is the killer. Might it be the stable boy? Don't be ridiculous. What about the housekeeper's husband? Wrong again. Nope, it has to be someone from one of the city's more affluent families. It's not the son, either; he naturally has to be gay (something I saw from a mile off). In fact, I guessed the culprit almost from the outset, and the red herrings throughout the rest of the story turned out to be only mildly distracting.
Finally, the innuendo got a bit much. Or much too much. The victim was an unmarried mother and two key characters in this murder are prostitutes... and although the innuendo is written in Victorian language, it's still fairly clear. Page after page after page of sexual references gets very tiring, especially when there's really no humor, likeable characters, or interesting story to have as a counter-balance.
Though Jennings did a good job of using language and expressions that fit the Victorian time period of this historical novel, she did a very poor job of constructing a clean book with an interesting story and characters. Murdoch and Co. are fairly cardboard, the story is embarrassingly simple, and the innuendo is just too much. If you ever see this book on the shelf at the library, don't even waste the energy it takes to read the back cover.
My Rating: MT (constant innuendo, veiled homosexual reference, mild sexual content)
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
The Handmaid's Tale (1985)
(Written by Margaret Atwood.) Offred is a handmaid to Serena Joy, the wife of a Commander. But this isn't biblical times, and it isn't even as far east as Europe. Following a disaster of almost apocalyptic proportions, a group of heavily armed rebels has destroyed the government of the United States. The country is now called Gilead, and it is ruled according to fear and distrust. Women are taken out of the workforce and are assigned various rigid roles in society. Some are housekeepers called "Marthas." Some are the "Wives." Still others are "Handmaids" - childbearers who are not married to the children's fathers. In a society almost bereft of fertility, the burden of producing the next generation falls to these.
This book is very puzzling. At first, it seems very anti-organized religion - particularly anti-Catholic. The way the Handmaids are required to dress seems nearly identical to the habit the Daughters of Charity used to wear. The distorted view of sexuality - for procreation only - is one often attributed to the Catholic Church. The Gileadean regime uses the Bible to put a moral price tag on what it's doing. Those are only a few examples. But deeper into the book, it's revealed that things are not quite as they seem at first glance.
Gilead seems to be more interested in using vague hints and trappings of Christianity rather than any real form of Christianity itself. For example, the Bible is used as moral backup for what the regime wants to do. But the Bible is not made available to most of the people - and many "quotes" are either distorted or borrowed from another source. In short, the regime alters the evidence (the Bible) to fit its arguments, not the other way around.
So Gilead uses a vague idea (again, the Bible) that is typically considered to have moral weight in order to justify what is being done. For the most part, the regime gets away with this because no one has the tools to argue with them. Only trustworthy people in high places even have access to the Bible. In other words, the regime's argument is built on a foundation that is unassailable only because it is simply unavailable. That sounds more like relativism than Christianity, which has the widely available Word of God as its backup.
Any relativist moral argument eventually breaks down because it cannot have real evidence on which to build its foundation. Arguing that "what's okay for me doesn't have to be okay for you" is totally illogical. Not because it's false per se, but because, by its very nature, it has nothing to back it up. Think about that for a second. To what moral authority can relativists appeal in order to back up their claim that "good" is, in truth, relative? They have none; the whole point of relativism is to do away with moral authority entirely. Unlike modern relativists, the Gileadean regime in The Handmaid's Tale understands this need of evidence. Its response is to obfuscate and mutilate a known, trusted source. However, the essentials still remain the same. Relativists have no authority on their side, and the Gileadeans have only an invented authority.
Whether Atwood intended to weave this speculation on relativism into her book or not, the parallel can certainly be drawn. She is apparently an agnostic, and might possibly be anti-organized religion. But whatever her attitudes on religion, the complexity of her invented world and the interesting way in which Atwood deals with its problems make this a worthwhile read.
My Rating: MT (sexual content and references, sex scenes (not too graphic), reference to homosexuality, violence)
This book is very puzzling. At first, it seems very anti-organized religion - particularly anti-Catholic. The way the Handmaids are required to dress seems nearly identical to the habit the Daughters of Charity used to wear. The distorted view of sexuality - for procreation only - is one often attributed to the Catholic Church. The Gileadean regime uses the Bible to put a moral price tag on what it's doing. Those are only a few examples. But deeper into the book, it's revealed that things are not quite as they seem at first glance.
Gilead seems to be more interested in using vague hints and trappings of Christianity rather than any real form of Christianity itself. For example, the Bible is used as moral backup for what the regime wants to do. But the Bible is not made available to most of the people - and many "quotes" are either distorted or borrowed from another source. In short, the regime alters the evidence (the Bible) to fit its arguments, not the other way around.
So Gilead uses a vague idea (again, the Bible) that is typically considered to have moral weight in order to justify what is being done. For the most part, the regime gets away with this because no one has the tools to argue with them. Only trustworthy people in high places even have access to the Bible. In other words, the regime's argument is built on a foundation that is unassailable only because it is simply unavailable. That sounds more like relativism than Christianity, which has the widely available Word of God as its backup.
Any relativist moral argument eventually breaks down because it cannot have real evidence on which to build its foundation. Arguing that "what's okay for me doesn't have to be okay for you" is totally illogical. Not because it's false per se, but because, by its very nature, it has nothing to back it up. Think about that for a second. To what moral authority can relativists appeal in order to back up their claim that "good" is, in truth, relative? They have none; the whole point of relativism is to do away with moral authority entirely. Unlike modern relativists, the Gileadean regime in The Handmaid's Tale understands this need of evidence. Its response is to obfuscate and mutilate a known, trusted source. However, the essentials still remain the same. Relativists have no authority on their side, and the Gileadeans have only an invented authority.
Whether Atwood intended to weave this speculation on relativism into her book or not, the parallel can certainly be drawn. She is apparently an agnostic, and might possibly be anti-organized religion. But whatever her attitudes on religion, the complexity of her invented world and the interesting way in which Atwood deals with its problems make this a worthwhile read.
My Rating: MT (sexual content and references, sex scenes (not too graphic), reference to homosexuality, violence)
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Pertaining To X-Men: First Class
Erik Lensherr (Michael Fassbender) was treated brutally as a child in a concentration camp, where he first learned that he can control metal objects with his mind. Now it's 1962, and he's determined to track down Klaus Schmidt, the German doctor/scientist who murdered his mother and subjected him to hideous experiments. Enter a telepathic mutant named Charles Xavier (James McAvoy) and his adopted sister and fellow mutant Raven (Jennifer Lawrence). Charles teams up with the CIA to track down another mutant named Sebastion Shaw (Kevin Bacon) - formerly known as Klaus Schmidt. Shaw has his own team of mutants, and he has partnered with the Russians in an apparent plan to attack the United States. Charles and Erik inevitably cross paths and decide work together.
(Disclaimer: I have never read an X-Men comic book, so none of this review will come from a comic fan's standpoint.)
This is one of the most enjoyable movies I have ever seen. Funny, tragic, cool, exciting, and a little scary at intervals, First Class rises above its minor flaws to the status of a great movie. But the real meat of the movie isn't in the cool superhero (and heroine) powers, or in the story, or in the dialogue. It's in the marvelous acting jobs.
James McAvoy is a pretty good actor. He was great as Mr. Tumnus, and so-so in a badly written part in The Conspirator. But he really shines as Charles/Professor X in First Class. Funny, always optimistic, ever looking out for his friends, and a born leader, McAvoy's Charles is a great character. Every single line and facial expression in the movie is perfect.
Next is Michael Fassbender. I have seen him in three parts now (only two that I remember), and he's simply a fantastic actor. Erik/Magneto is a very complicated character. He's brutal and angry, but can be gentle or even, in one scene, happy. Essentially, he's a conflicted man whose overbearing drive for revenge dominates his entire life, but not so much that his revenge is all there is. As Charles tells him in one scene, there's good inside him - he just doesn't know it. Fassbender pulls this contradiction off beautifully.
The last acting job I want to mention (though everyone in the movie is great) is Jennifer Lawrence's performance as Raven/Mystique. She's not a particularly complex character. She has blue skin, red hair, and yellow eyes that she hides by using her power - the ability to change her appearance completely. She is hurt and angry that society won't accept her. Even her adopted brother seems a little put off by her natural appearance. All in all, not a very difficult part to play. But where Lawrence really shines is in the scenes where Raven is just an ordinary young woman. A warm, fun-loving young woman who's a bit of a spitfire at times must be a difficult part to play, because most actresses I've seen can't do it. Lawrence is perfect.
Unfortunately, First Class isn't my favorite movie for three little reasons. 1) There's too much sexual content for my comfort. None of it is what I would call terrible, but it's constant enough to make it annoying. 2) There's a half-hearted attempt to tie the Civil Rights movement in with the gay "marriage" movement of today.* The attempted tie-in in First Class takes the form of a few scattered jokes, but it's still there. 3) *Spoiler Warning* The part where the U.S. fires on the mutants - good and bad - on the beach is more than a little unrealistic. Unfortunately, there had to be a reason for the X-Men to go into hiding from the government, but the filmmakers could have come up with something better than that. *End of Spoiler*
Despite its flaws, First Class is a job well done. After the total failure of X-Men 3: X-Men United (I haven't yet seen X-Men Origins: Wolverine, but I've heard it's not very good either), the X-Men franchise needed a good reboot. They certainly pulled it off in First Class, despite the movie's flaws.
My Rating: MT (sexual references and content, brutal violence, disturbing images, language)
* For those who don't know, the X-Men stories are reflections of the Civil Rights movement. Professor X is the peace-loving Reverend Martin Luther King Jr., and Magneto is the more violent separatist Malcom X. So any tie-in of the mutants with gays is, by extension, a tie-in of the Civil Rights movement with gays.
Reviews of similar movies:
(Disclaimer: I have never read an X-Men comic book, so none of this review will come from a comic fan's standpoint.)
This is one of the most enjoyable movies I have ever seen. Funny, tragic, cool, exciting, and a little scary at intervals, First Class rises above its minor flaws to the status of a great movie. But the real meat of the movie isn't in the cool superhero (and heroine) powers, or in the story, or in the dialogue. It's in the marvelous acting jobs.
James McAvoy is a pretty good actor. He was great as Mr. Tumnus, and so-so in a badly written part in The Conspirator. But he really shines as Charles/Professor X in First Class. Funny, always optimistic, ever looking out for his friends, and a born leader, McAvoy's Charles is a great character. Every single line and facial expression in the movie is perfect.
Next is Michael Fassbender. I have seen him in three parts now (only two that I remember), and he's simply a fantastic actor. Erik/Magneto is a very complicated character. He's brutal and angry, but can be gentle or even, in one scene, happy. Essentially, he's a conflicted man whose overbearing drive for revenge dominates his entire life, but not so much that his revenge is all there is. As Charles tells him in one scene, there's good inside him - he just doesn't know it. Fassbender pulls this contradiction off beautifully.
The last acting job I want to mention (though everyone in the movie is great) is Jennifer Lawrence's performance as Raven/Mystique. She's not a particularly complex character. She has blue skin, red hair, and yellow eyes that she hides by using her power - the ability to change her appearance completely. She is hurt and angry that society won't accept her. Even her adopted brother seems a little put off by her natural appearance. All in all, not a very difficult part to play. But where Lawrence really shines is in the scenes where Raven is just an ordinary young woman. A warm, fun-loving young woman who's a bit of a spitfire at times must be a difficult part to play, because most actresses I've seen can't do it. Lawrence is perfect.
Unfortunately, First Class isn't my favorite movie for three little reasons. 1) There's too much sexual content for my comfort. None of it is what I would call terrible, but it's constant enough to make it annoying. 2) There's a half-hearted attempt to tie the Civil Rights movement in with the gay "marriage" movement of today.* The attempted tie-in in First Class takes the form of a few scattered jokes, but it's still there. 3) *Spoiler Warning* The part where the U.S. fires on the mutants - good and bad - on the beach is more than a little unrealistic. Unfortunately, there had to be a reason for the X-Men to go into hiding from the government, but the filmmakers could have come up with something better than that. *End of Spoiler*
Despite its flaws, First Class is a job well done. After the total failure of X-Men 3: X-Men United (I haven't yet seen X-Men Origins: Wolverine, but I've heard it's not very good either), the X-Men franchise needed a good reboot. They certainly pulled it off in First Class, despite the movie's flaws.
My Rating: MT (sexual references and content, brutal violence, disturbing images, language)
* For those who don't know, the X-Men stories are reflections of the Civil Rights movement. Professor X is the peace-loving Reverend Martin Luther King Jr., and Magneto is the more violent separatist Malcom X. So any tie-in of the mutants with gays is, by extension, a tie-in of the Civil Rights movement with gays.
Reviews of similar movies:
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
On The Incredible Hulk
As the result of a military science experiment, Bruce Banner (Edward Norton) transforms into a mindless beast every time his pulse rate hits 200. Now he must hide in South America with no connections to his former life - he even had to leave the love of his life, Dr. Betty Ross (Liv Tyler), behind. But when the military discovers where he is, they come after him with lots of firepower. Bruce soon finds himself caught up in a deadly battle with military commandos led by the increasingly out-of-control Emil Blonsky (Tim Roth). But Bruce suspects that his greatest enemy just might be himself.
Bleah. First, I wish Bruce hadn't come back to Betty - Liv Tyler is simply dreadful in this role. Arwen in the Lord of the Rings must have been the role of a lifetime, because Liv sadly cannot act. Heck, she isn't even that pretty. Her scenes with Bruce range from crude to stupid to ones of the snorefest variety. And if there's one thing that every movie with romance must have, it's a likeable hero and heroine who actually have some chemistry.
Second, there are holes the size of the Atlantic in the climax scene. Superhero movies are not and should not be totally realistic (otherwise, the heroes would have no powers), but they should definitely be consistent. The climax scene in The Incredible Hulk is not. *Spoiler Warning* It begins as a ho-hum scene, with the Hulk fighting what is apparently called 'The Abomination,' though it's never named in the movie. They try to smash each other up a few times - until the helicopter that holds Betty crashes and eventually catches on fire. This is when the scene becomes stupid. Hulk puts out the fire with a clap of his hands. Really? Seriously? Yep. Then the scene quickly becomes ludicrous. Hulk manages to get a chain around the Abomination's neck and he begins to strangle it. But then Betty - for some unexplained reason - tells Hulk to stop. He does so (thereby showing that Bruce does have control over the Hulk). The Abomination is still conscious, but for some reason it is now subdued. Hulk lets the military deal with it. Really? The only blow that had seemed to even slightly annoy the Abomination was when Hulk threw its head through a concrete wall. But it quickly recovered and attacked again. And now it's subdued? After being merely partly strangled? Pathetic. *End of Spoiler*
All that aside, I was very pleasantly surprised at Bruce's character. The only role I had seen Edward Norton play was Steve in The Italian Job, and I honestly could not imagine him playing a hero that I liked. I was wrong. He was very sweet and kind (except for that one stupid scene in the motel room), and I thought he was a pretty good actor.
Also, any Avengers fan must see the final scene in the movie. I can't imagine that it would be necessary in order to understand the Avengers movie coming out next year, but let's just say that this one scene almost made me forget the stupidity of the rest of the movie.
My Rating: MT (sexual references and content (almost-sex scene in bed; both are clothed), language, violence)
Other superhero movies:
Bleah. First, I wish Bruce hadn't come back to Betty - Liv Tyler is simply dreadful in this role. Arwen in the Lord of the Rings must have been the role of a lifetime, because Liv sadly cannot act. Heck, she isn't even that pretty. Her scenes with Bruce range from crude to stupid to ones of the snorefest variety. And if there's one thing that every movie with romance must have, it's a likeable hero and heroine who actually have some chemistry.
Second, there are holes the size of the Atlantic in the climax scene. Superhero movies are not and should not be totally realistic (otherwise, the heroes would have no powers), but they should definitely be consistent. The climax scene in The Incredible Hulk is not. *Spoiler Warning* It begins as a ho-hum scene, with the Hulk fighting what is apparently called 'The Abomination,' though it's never named in the movie. They try to smash each other up a few times - until the helicopter that holds Betty crashes and eventually catches on fire. This is when the scene becomes stupid. Hulk puts out the fire with a clap of his hands. Really? Seriously? Yep. Then the scene quickly becomes ludicrous. Hulk manages to get a chain around the Abomination's neck and he begins to strangle it. But then Betty - for some unexplained reason - tells Hulk to stop. He does so (thereby showing that Bruce does have control over the Hulk). The Abomination is still conscious, but for some reason it is now subdued. Hulk lets the military deal with it. Really? The only blow that had seemed to even slightly annoy the Abomination was when Hulk threw its head through a concrete wall. But it quickly recovered and attacked again. And now it's subdued? After being merely partly strangled? Pathetic. *End of Spoiler*
All that aside, I was very pleasantly surprised at Bruce's character. The only role I had seen Edward Norton play was Steve in The Italian Job, and I honestly could not imagine him playing a hero that I liked. I was wrong. He was very sweet and kind (except for that one stupid scene in the motel room), and I thought he was a pretty good actor.
Also, any Avengers fan must see the final scene in the movie. I can't imagine that it would be necessary in order to understand the Avengers movie coming out next year, but let's just say that this one scene almost made me forget the stupidity of the rest of the movie.
My Rating: MT (sexual references and content (almost-sex scene in bed; both are clothed), language, violence)
Other superhero movies:
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
On The Loser Letters: A Comic Tale of Life, Death, and Atheism
(Written by Mary Eberstadt.)
Dear Theists, Atheists, and the Rest of Mankind,
If you're looking for a book that's dripping with sarcasm, full of truth, and more sobering than a cold shower and a cup of coffee, this is the book for you. I don't have to tell you that the debate about God and religion is center-stage right now. I mean, just look at the debate over marriage; theists and atheists alike who happen to believe that marriage is between a man and a woman are selfish, hateful bigots, and the open-minded, tolerant theists and atheists who believe that anything goes as long as it makes you feel good are trying to shut down the opposition with rightly-deserved diatribes. But I digress. Have you ever thought about the logical arguments for atheism? I mean, they have to hold water, right? People as intelligent as Richard Dawkins have to have good reasons to believe that God doesn't exist. Don't they? Or is it something else that drives people to disbelieve in the existence of God?
Your Obedient Servant,
A.D. Catholic
Normally, I don't like it when people use sarcasm to tear down opposing arguments. As a general rule, if the only argument you have is one of mockery, then you have no argument, you just have a loud voice. But in the case of The Loser Letters, sarcasm and mockery are tempered by sympathy - and not "sympathy" of the patronizing kind. I know that seems like an oxymoron, but it isn't.
Using the voice of the "one and only convert" to atheism, a fictional character who signs her name with the pseudonym "A. F. (A Former) Christian," Mary Eberstadt manages to neatly expose the contradictions and downright foolishness of some major arguments in favor of atheism. In the book, A. F. Christian is trying to help her fellow atheists by explaining why the arguments don't hold water and by pointing out that they should quit using those arguments (the ones that don't quite make sense) because they only turn off potential converts.
This book is right on so many levels, I don't know where to begin. To save myself (and you) from an agonizingly long post, I'll just say that every one of the fallacies and contradictions that A. F. Christian so ably points out are true. Atheism and watered down religion that permit anyone to do whatever they want without any consequences are destroying our culture and, more importantly, destroying our young people. A. F. Christian is a case in point - but you'll have to read the book to find out more.
The sympathy comes later in the book when the reader finally discovers A. F.'s story. It's heartbreakingly sad; she could very easily be the poster girl for godlessness run amok. The sympathy that comes from A. F.'s sad story makes readers see atheists not as objects of mockery and sarcasm, but as misguided people. They simply live in a world where up is down and down is up, and we should give them our prayers, not our mockery.
*Spoiler Warning* The final part of the book seems to have its basis in Dante. Alas and alack, I have not read Dante, so I'm probably not the best person to analyze this part of the book. I'll keep it as basic as I can. In the last letter, we find that the rehab clinic where A. F. Christian has been living is really Purgatory. During the time that she has been there (and the time that she has written her letters), Jesus has given the angels a chance to figure out the state of A. F.'s soul. It's made quite clear that He doesn't really trust their judgment; He just lets them have a crack at it before He sends her off to the her final destination. My problem with this element is that the Catholic Church teaches that "Each man receives his eternal retribution in his immortal soul at the very moment of his death" (Catechism of the Catholic Church, section 1022). Meaning that if someone is headed to Hell he or she goes to Hell at the moment he or she dies. No short stop in Purgatory. Straight to Hell. The only explanation for this theological hiccup I can think of is that Jesus, knowing as He does the state of everybody's soul, knew she was headed to Heaven eventually anyway. In other words, he allows the angels to try to figure out the state of each soul in Purgatory, but all the souls they try to evaluate are headed to Heaven anyway. Which, in my mind at least, kind of defeats the whole purpose of the exercise. (Although I have to admit that the imagining of Purgatory as a rehab or "detox" place is a brilliant move.) *End of Spoiler*
In the end, The Loser Letters is about the pain and destruction that comes from cutting God and meaning out of life. Sure, the basic atheist arguments are destroyed like waves destroy sandcastles, but the fundamental point is not so much the foolishness of atheism. The fundamental point is that atheism has resulted in evils and suffering that have sickened our culture. Faced with such a world, theists can only pray and try to help the "collateral damage" pick up the pieces of their broken lives, trusting that God will heal all our wounds.
My Rating: MT (sexual and drug references, language, pervasive evil in people's lives)
Reviews of similar books or movies:
Dear Theists, Atheists, and the Rest of Mankind,
If you're looking for a book that's dripping with sarcasm, full of truth, and more sobering than a cold shower and a cup of coffee, this is the book for you. I don't have to tell you that the debate about God and religion is center-stage right now. I mean, just look at the debate over marriage; theists and atheists alike who happen to believe that marriage is between a man and a woman are selfish, hateful bigots, and the open-minded, tolerant theists and atheists who believe that anything goes as long as it makes you feel good are trying to shut down the opposition with rightly-deserved diatribes. But I digress. Have you ever thought about the logical arguments for atheism? I mean, they have to hold water, right? People as intelligent as Richard Dawkins have to have good reasons to believe that God doesn't exist. Don't they? Or is it something else that drives people to disbelieve in the existence of God?
Your Obedient Servant,
A.D. Catholic
Normally, I don't like it when people use sarcasm to tear down opposing arguments. As a general rule, if the only argument you have is one of mockery, then you have no argument, you just have a loud voice. But in the case of The Loser Letters, sarcasm and mockery are tempered by sympathy - and not "sympathy" of the patronizing kind. I know that seems like an oxymoron, but it isn't.
Using the voice of the "one and only convert" to atheism, a fictional character who signs her name with the pseudonym "A. F. (A Former) Christian," Mary Eberstadt manages to neatly expose the contradictions and downright foolishness of some major arguments in favor of atheism. In the book, A. F. Christian is trying to help her fellow atheists by explaining why the arguments don't hold water and by pointing out that they should quit using those arguments (the ones that don't quite make sense) because they only turn off potential converts.
This book is right on so many levels, I don't know where to begin. To save myself (and you) from an agonizingly long post, I'll just say that every one of the fallacies and contradictions that A. F. Christian so ably points out are true. Atheism and watered down religion that permit anyone to do whatever they want without any consequences are destroying our culture and, more importantly, destroying our young people. A. F. Christian is a case in point - but you'll have to read the book to find out more.
The sympathy comes later in the book when the reader finally discovers A. F.'s story. It's heartbreakingly sad; she could very easily be the poster girl for godlessness run amok. The sympathy that comes from A. F.'s sad story makes readers see atheists not as objects of mockery and sarcasm, but as misguided people. They simply live in a world where up is down and down is up, and we should give them our prayers, not our mockery.
*Spoiler Warning* The final part of the book seems to have its basis in Dante. Alas and alack, I have not read Dante, so I'm probably not the best person to analyze this part of the book. I'll keep it as basic as I can. In the last letter, we find that the rehab clinic where A. F. Christian has been living is really Purgatory. During the time that she has been there (and the time that she has written her letters), Jesus has given the angels a chance to figure out the state of A. F.'s soul. It's made quite clear that He doesn't really trust their judgment; He just lets them have a crack at it before He sends her off to the her final destination. My problem with this element is that the Catholic Church teaches that "Each man receives his eternal retribution in his immortal soul at the very moment of his death" (Catechism of the Catholic Church, section 1022). Meaning that if someone is headed to Hell he or she goes to Hell at the moment he or she dies. No short stop in Purgatory. Straight to Hell. The only explanation for this theological hiccup I can think of is that Jesus, knowing as He does the state of everybody's soul, knew she was headed to Heaven eventually anyway. In other words, he allows the angels to try to figure out the state of each soul in Purgatory, but all the souls they try to evaluate are headed to Heaven anyway. Which, in my mind at least, kind of defeats the whole purpose of the exercise. (Although I have to admit that the imagining of Purgatory as a rehab or "detox" place is a brilliant move.) *End of Spoiler*
In the end, The Loser Letters is about the pain and destruction that comes from cutting God and meaning out of life. Sure, the basic atheist arguments are destroyed like waves destroy sandcastles, but the fundamental point is not so much the foolishness of atheism. The fundamental point is that atheism has resulted in evils and suffering that have sickened our culture. Faced with such a world, theists can only pray and try to help the "collateral damage" pick up the pieces of their broken lives, trusting that God will heal all our wounds.
My Rating: MT (sexual and drug references, language, pervasive evil in people's lives)
Reviews of similar books or movies:
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Regarding This Present Darkness
(Written by Frank E. Peretti.) Satan is closing in on the little town of Ashton. His demons are lurking about, tempting people into doing horrible things. Now his lieutenant, Rafar, the Prince of Babylon, has been sent to carry out his evil plan. An angel named Captain Tal and his likewise angelic companions are preparing to do battle. But their strength can only be increased by human prayers - and there is precious little praying going on in Ashton. Only Hank Busche, a local pastor, and his wife Mary seem to be praying. Can Hank and the angels change the minds of the people in town? And what about that nosy newspaperman, Marshall Hogan? Will he be able to put his finger on what the town's most influential people are doing behind closed doors?
Hm. This book had great potential, but overly dramatic writing and shaky theology derailed it before it really got started. I mean, what could be cooler than angels and demons engaged in a spiritual battle, while human underdogs try to fight off an evil organization that is trying to take over the world? But the book just sort of fell on its face.
First, the writing in the beginning of the book nearly made me quit several times. Peretti attempted to throw the reader into the angels' urgent situation without any background. This might have worked, except he eliminated dialogue that would have been in there, in my opinion, had he not intended to keep the reader in the dark about the forces of light. (Forgive the pun.) Plus, I disliked the drama in the angels' dialogue. One of my favorite Chesterton quotes reads as follows: "Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly." Instead, Peretti's angels seem to be fully aware of the drama of their situation.
Fortunately, the writing got better as the book went on. Unfortunately, the theology did not.
On the surface, this book is great. It's essentially a warning against New Age religions, which seem to be benign but are really very dangerous. In Peretti's book, people's lives are destroyed or lost because of New Age influences, and fortune telling and other dangerous practices are similarly condemned.
Below the surface, however, the theology is shaky. Hank repeatedly drives demons out of afflicted people in the town, while other lay persons "rebuke" demons. I'm not sure if a lay person could ever drive out a demon from a possessed person. What I do know is that Catholic canon law states that exorcists must be priests appointed specifically for that task by their bishops. That sounds to me as if it is impossible or nearly impossible for a lay person to drive out demons. Additionally, I have read that exorcisms are processes that can take years of repitition before they are successful. I estimate that the longest it takes Hank to drive out a demon is about ten minutes.
Also, it bothered me that the only Catholics in the book were considered "superstitious." The Catholic items around their house were considered evidence for their superstitious minds. Now, to be fair, the main character who was in that scene was not really religious and therefore wouldn't understand pictures of Mary, etc. However, there was no correction of this mistake later in the book; as far as the reader knows, it's superstitious to have crucifixes and images of Mary about the house. That is not true or fair. Catholics have such images because they lift our minds to God, both because they are reminders and because they are beautiful. Superstition does not fit into the equation.
Plagued by a melodramatic writing style and theological difficulties, This Present Darkness takes a little while just to get off the ground. In the middle, the pace speeds up enough to be bearable, but the theological problems grow at the same time. Ultimately, I would not waste my time by reading this again, and I would not recommend it to anyone else either.
My Rating: MT (sexual references and content, violence, frightening ideas and images)
Hm. This book had great potential, but overly dramatic writing and shaky theology derailed it before it really got started. I mean, what could be cooler than angels and demons engaged in a spiritual battle, while human underdogs try to fight off an evil organization that is trying to take over the world? But the book just sort of fell on its face.
First, the writing in the beginning of the book nearly made me quit several times. Peretti attempted to throw the reader into the angels' urgent situation without any background. This might have worked, except he eliminated dialogue that would have been in there, in my opinion, had he not intended to keep the reader in the dark about the forces of light. (Forgive the pun.) Plus, I disliked the drama in the angels' dialogue. One of my favorite Chesterton quotes reads as follows: "Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly." Instead, Peretti's angels seem to be fully aware of the drama of their situation.
Fortunately, the writing got better as the book went on. Unfortunately, the theology did not.
On the surface, this book is great. It's essentially a warning against New Age religions, which seem to be benign but are really very dangerous. In Peretti's book, people's lives are destroyed or lost because of New Age influences, and fortune telling and other dangerous practices are similarly condemned.
Below the surface, however, the theology is shaky. Hank repeatedly drives demons out of afflicted people in the town, while other lay persons "rebuke" demons. I'm not sure if a lay person could ever drive out a demon from a possessed person. What I do know is that Catholic canon law states that exorcists must be priests appointed specifically for that task by their bishops. That sounds to me as if it is impossible or nearly impossible for a lay person to drive out demons. Additionally, I have read that exorcisms are processes that can take years of repitition before they are successful. I estimate that the longest it takes Hank to drive out a demon is about ten minutes.
Also, it bothered me that the only Catholics in the book were considered "superstitious." The Catholic items around their house were considered evidence for their superstitious minds. Now, to be fair, the main character who was in that scene was not really religious and therefore wouldn't understand pictures of Mary, etc. However, there was no correction of this mistake later in the book; as far as the reader knows, it's superstitious to have crucifixes and images of Mary about the house. That is not true or fair. Catholics have such images because they lift our minds to God, both because they are reminders and because they are beautiful. Superstition does not fit into the equation.
Plagued by a melodramatic writing style and theological difficulties, This Present Darkness takes a little while just to get off the ground. In the middle, the pace speeds up enough to be bearable, but the theological problems grow at the same time. Ultimately, I would not waste my time by reading this again, and I would not recommend it to anyone else either.
My Rating: MT (sexual references and content, violence, frightening ideas and images)
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
On Dear Frankie
Frankie (Jack McElhone), a nine-year-old deaf boy, has been writing letters to his absent father for years. Except that his father hasn't received any of the letters, much less written any replies. Actually, Frankie's mother Lizzie has been the one corresponding with him under the guise of his father's name. Lizzie has told her son that his father is a sailor on board the Accra. But when the ship, which Lizzie thought existed only in her imagination, comes to town, Lizzie finds herself in a tight spot. She does what any mother would do - she hires a total stranger to play her husband for a day.
Putting aside some moral issues, Dear Frankie uses wonderful acting, a stream-lined script, and lovely Scottish accents to make a sweet little tale. Slow-paced, relaxed, and gentle, it paints a beautiful picture of a woman and her son struggling with their troubles. Frankie doesn't seem too bothered by his deafness, but he won't even speak to his mother, much less anyone else. Lizzie is struggling with single motherhood and the tragedies that have befallen her and her loved ones, and at times it seems like her mother's feistiness and her son's fragility are the only things that keep her afloat.
At the same time, Dear Frankie doesn't resort to too much drama. There are several scenes that are entirely without dialogue, and many others where the dialogue is very simple. That isn't to say the filmmakers wrote a boring or amateurish script. In fact, the script uses impressively few words to convey major parts of the story. Instead, it just means that the movie is about simple people with complicated problems.
One of the simplest characters in the movie is the man Lizzie hires to play her husband. The credits identify him merely as "The Stranger" (Gerard Butler). He has "no past, no present, and no future," but he has a very good heart. All it takes to talk him into helping Lizzie protect her son from the truth is a picture of Frankie taken just before his father disappeared. As the movie goes on, it becomes increasingly clear that he will do almost anything to make Frankie feel like his father truly loves him.
When tragedy hits, many people are prompted to ask "why?" Dear Frankie shows that it is not only possible to survive tragedy, it is possible that tragedy can lead directly to things that are more wonderful than anything that happened before tragedy struck.
My Rating: MT (language, sexual references - two made by children)
Putting aside some moral issues, Dear Frankie uses wonderful acting, a stream-lined script, and lovely Scottish accents to make a sweet little tale. Slow-paced, relaxed, and gentle, it paints a beautiful picture of a woman and her son struggling with their troubles. Frankie doesn't seem too bothered by his deafness, but he won't even speak to his mother, much less anyone else. Lizzie is struggling with single motherhood and the tragedies that have befallen her and her loved ones, and at times it seems like her mother's feistiness and her son's fragility are the only things that keep her afloat.
At the same time, Dear Frankie doesn't resort to too much drama. There are several scenes that are entirely without dialogue, and many others where the dialogue is very simple. That isn't to say the filmmakers wrote a boring or amateurish script. In fact, the script uses impressively few words to convey major parts of the story. Instead, it just means that the movie is about simple people with complicated problems.
One of the simplest characters in the movie is the man Lizzie hires to play her husband. The credits identify him merely as "The Stranger" (Gerard Butler). He has "no past, no present, and no future," but he has a very good heart. All it takes to talk him into helping Lizzie protect her son from the truth is a picture of Frankie taken just before his father disappeared. As the movie goes on, it becomes increasingly clear that he will do almost anything to make Frankie feel like his father truly loves him.
When tragedy hits, many people are prompted to ask "why?" Dear Frankie shows that it is not only possible to survive tragedy, it is possible that tragedy can lead directly to things that are more wonderful than anything that happened before tragedy struck.
My Rating: MT (language, sexual references - two made by children)
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Pertaining To Exam
Eight candidates. Eighty minutes. One question. The person who gives the right answer will receive a highly sought-after job. The others will go home disappointed. Unfortunately, the candidates are faced with a bit of a quandary from the get-go - they don't know what the question is.
I wasn't sure what to expect from this movie. It's 101 minutes long, and I had heard that very nearly all of it takes place in one room. That didn't sound like a winning formula. But the movie ended up as refreshing just because of its simplicity. Some movies rely on jumping around to different locations in an attempt to create a fast-paced tone. Most movies tend to skip over annoying elements like traveling, time spent eating or sleeping, and other boring, time-consuming things. Exam doesn't skip a minute from the time the candidates enter the room to the time the exam is over.
While going over eighty minutes spent in a single room might seem very boring, suspense and puzzlement grow gradually and then by leaps and bounds as the exam nears its end. Unexpected developments pop up occasionally, and the mystery of where the question is hidden kept me on the edge of my seat.
Another interesting thing is the time and effort the filmmakers obviously put into forming characters. Each of the candidates has his or her own motives and personality, with no real stereotypes. The closest to a stereotypical character is probably the psychologist, who is an exceedingly annoying woman. Surprisingly enough, the devout Christian character nicknamed Black (Chukwudi Iwuji) is pretty realistic. He has flaws, but there are lines that he is simply unwilling to cross. Such a positive portrayal of a Christian in a secular movie is very unusual.
That brings me to the symbolism near the end of the movie. *Spoiler Warning* After Black gets shot, he falls to the floor and remains there. But, contrary to what the final candidate believes, he is not dead. From what I understand, he was shot with a pill that will cure him of the disease that threatens to take his life. Black wakes up and, as he tries to understand what happened, a man speaks very nearly the last line in the movie (if not the last; I don't exactly remember): "He is risen." This is clearly a reference to Christ's resurrection. Interestingly enough, it is the Christian character who, so to speak, rises from the dead. I don't know whether the filmmakers intended viewers to draw the parallel between faithful Christians reaching heaven and Black's healing, but it seems like a logical connection to make.
My Rating: MT (almost constant language, sexual references)
I wasn't sure what to expect from this movie. It's 101 minutes long, and I had heard that very nearly all of it takes place in one room. That didn't sound like a winning formula. But the movie ended up as refreshing just because of its simplicity. Some movies rely on jumping around to different locations in an attempt to create a fast-paced tone. Most movies tend to skip over annoying elements like traveling, time spent eating or sleeping, and other boring, time-consuming things. Exam doesn't skip a minute from the time the candidates enter the room to the time the exam is over.
While going over eighty minutes spent in a single room might seem very boring, suspense and puzzlement grow gradually and then by leaps and bounds as the exam nears its end. Unexpected developments pop up occasionally, and the mystery of where the question is hidden kept me on the edge of my seat.
Another interesting thing is the time and effort the filmmakers obviously put into forming characters. Each of the candidates has his or her own motives and personality, with no real stereotypes. The closest to a stereotypical character is probably the psychologist, who is an exceedingly annoying woman. Surprisingly enough, the devout Christian character nicknamed Black (Chukwudi Iwuji) is pretty realistic. He has flaws, but there are lines that he is simply unwilling to cross. Such a positive portrayal of a Christian in a secular movie is very unusual.
That brings me to the symbolism near the end of the movie. *Spoiler Warning* After Black gets shot, he falls to the floor and remains there. But, contrary to what the final candidate believes, he is not dead. From what I understand, he was shot with a pill that will cure him of the disease that threatens to take his life. Black wakes up and, as he tries to understand what happened, a man speaks very nearly the last line in the movie (if not the last; I don't exactly remember): "He is risen." This is clearly a reference to Christ's resurrection. Interestingly enough, it is the Christian character who, so to speak, rises from the dead. I don't know whether the filmmakers intended viewers to draw the parallel between faithful Christians reaching heaven and Black's healing, but it seems like a logical connection to make.
My Rating: MT (almost constant language, sexual references)
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Regarding Rachel's Contrition
(Written by Michelle Buckman.) Rachel is only twenty-five, but her life is a mess. She is separated from her husband. She sees her son just every other weekend. Her beautiful baby girl is dead. Drowning in a mist of prescription pain-killers and anti-depressants, her memory alternately fails her and hits her in the face with scenes from her past that she would rather forget. It seems that nothing will pull her out of her despair. Then she becomes friends with Lilly, a teenager who is struggling through her own problems. Lilly gives her a book about Saint Therese of Lisieux, and Rachel begins to see a tiny crack of light in the darkness.
It seems trite to sum up an entire book with one word, especially a book as complex as this one, but I think an appropriate word to use in describing this book would be Love. On second thought, "Love" is correct, but "word" does not fit - "name" is better. Throughout the whole story, Rachel is searching for love, but not just everyday, happily-ever-after love; she's searching for Love, another name for God.
I didn't know quite what to expect from this book. In my experience, there are very few really Catholic novels out there. I knew authoress Michelle Buckman was Catholic before I started reading, but I thought perhaps she had diluted some of the Catholic elements she might have put in. I was wrong. While I don't think the Catholicism in this book would offend non-Catholics, Catholic teaching on suffering, love, healing, and many other things are woven into the story.
A particularly beautiful part is the St. Therese book that Rachel reads. Little snippets from St. Therese's autobiography are included in the story, and Rachel finds the Little Flower's reflections on Love, love, the dark night of the soul, and suffering to be comforting at the very least. Through St. Therese's gentle words and the kind friendship of a priest, Rachel finds the courage to open herself to Love.
Common misconceptions about Catholicism, specifically about statues and saints, are neatly explained in a few words by Rachel's priest friend. As a cradle Catholic, I found that short exchange to be pretty boring, but I'm glad Michelle Buckman took the time to show that Catholics really don't worship saints or statues in any sense of the word.
Despite and partly because of the rich Catholicism in this book, it is by no means family-friendly. Dark subject material is dealt with, from drugs (both prescription and recreational) and murder to extra-marital affairs and sexual abuse of minors. While everything is handled with delicacy and there isn't any truly explicit material, I would definitely recommend an older person pre-read this for any young teenager.
The dark is illuminated by some bright spots and moments, however. Characters like Ricky and Father Jacobsen show Rachel true compassion and love, helping her through the darkest period in her already dark life. A few beautiful moments like one in the hospital and another in the library are touching, and serve to lighten the book with little glimmers of hope.
Unfortunately, I guessed the murderer. However, since that isn't a huge part of the book, I can overlook that. Ultimately, the book is about Rachel discovering what - and Who - love really is. When she does this, she's able to accept love - and Love - in her life. In the end, that's what everyone needs.
My Rating: MT (sexual content and references, thematic elements, drug abuse, severe family problems)
It seems trite to sum up an entire book with one word, especially a book as complex as this one, but I think an appropriate word to use in describing this book would be Love. On second thought, "Love" is correct, but "word" does not fit - "name" is better. Throughout the whole story, Rachel is searching for love, but not just everyday, happily-ever-after love; she's searching for Love, another name for God.
I didn't know quite what to expect from this book. In my experience, there are very few really Catholic novels out there. I knew authoress Michelle Buckman was Catholic before I started reading, but I thought perhaps she had diluted some of the Catholic elements she might have put in. I was wrong. While I don't think the Catholicism in this book would offend non-Catholics, Catholic teaching on suffering, love, healing, and many other things are woven into the story.
A particularly beautiful part is the St. Therese book that Rachel reads. Little snippets from St. Therese's autobiography are included in the story, and Rachel finds the Little Flower's reflections on Love, love, the dark night of the soul, and suffering to be comforting at the very least. Through St. Therese's gentle words and the kind friendship of a priest, Rachel finds the courage to open herself to Love.
Common misconceptions about Catholicism, specifically about statues and saints, are neatly explained in a few words by Rachel's priest friend. As a cradle Catholic, I found that short exchange to be pretty boring, but I'm glad Michelle Buckman took the time to show that Catholics really don't worship saints or statues in any sense of the word.
Despite and partly because of the rich Catholicism in this book, it is by no means family-friendly. Dark subject material is dealt with, from drugs (both prescription and recreational) and murder to extra-marital affairs and sexual abuse of minors. While everything is handled with delicacy and there isn't any truly explicit material, I would definitely recommend an older person pre-read this for any young teenager.
The dark is illuminated by some bright spots and moments, however. Characters like Ricky and Father Jacobsen show Rachel true compassion and love, helping her through the darkest period in her already dark life. A few beautiful moments like one in the hospital and another in the library are touching, and serve to lighten the book with little glimmers of hope.
Unfortunately, I guessed the murderer. However, since that isn't a huge part of the book, I can overlook that. Ultimately, the book is about Rachel discovering what - and Who - love really is. When she does this, she's able to accept love - and Love - in her life. In the end, that's what everyone needs.
My Rating: MT (sexual content and references, thematic elements, drug abuse, severe family problems)
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
In Relation To Paycheck
Michael Jennings (Ben Affleck) is a special kind of engineer. He is hired by companies to work on highly sensitive (read: illegal) projects. After each project is finished, he is handed a big paycheck and his memory of everything that happened while he was on the project is promptly erased. When a man called Rethrick (Aaron Eckhart) offers him a job that will consume three years of his life, but leave him rich beyond his wildest dreams, Jennings agrees. Three years later, he finds he not only forfeited his paycheck, he's also being chased by everyone from the feds to Rethrick - and he has no idea why.
This movie is a really, really good idea. In the right hands it would have ranked up with other thrillers like Inception. Unfortunately, it was not in the right hands, so it's only so-so. Sometime between the original idea and the actual making of the movie, something went wrong.First, Ben Affleck is not a very good actor. Jennings' generic character doesn't call for much acting, so that didn't bother me too much. But his girlfriend Rachel is played by Uma Thurman, who is not very good in this movie, either. Her character is pretty boring (I think perhaps the movie makers relied a little too much on her exotic looks), but she has some lines that should be funny and aren't.
This trend of character-less characters is pretty widespread; almost none of the characters are developed in any sense of the word. By far the best character is Shorty (Paul Giamatti), the kooky sidekick with the funny taste in clothes. Perhaps that's because Giamatti is the only good actor out of the bunch, with perhaps the exception of Eckhart. Unfortunately, Shorty isn't in nearly enough scenes. The evil characters are stereotypes, and the feds are just boring.
The characters are not the only part that doesn't work. Everything is extremely dramatized, as if the movie makers were aiming to make Paycheck the movie of the decade. Evidently they didn't realize that drama only works if the audience has more than money invested in the movie. Excitement cannot be drummed up with slow-motion action scenes or exhilirating music; audiences have to be emotionally invested in the characters at least a little.
My Rating: MT (language, violence, palm-reading, sexual content between hero and a side character)
Picture from coverbrowser.com
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Regarding Sense & Sensibility
Two sisters, two entirely different personalities. Elinor Dashwood (Hattie Morahan) is "sense" to her very core. She allows her head to lead her heart, no matter what befalls her or her family. Her younger sister Marianne (Charity Wakefield) is "sensibility." She allows her emotions to dictate her actions every minute of the day, regardless of how it affects those around her. When tragedy strikes, the two sisters try to muddle through as best they can, hoping to pick up the pieces of their lives and find some measure of happiness.
I greatly prefer this adaptation to the one by Emma Thompson. For one thing, the characters are much nearer their proper ages. (While this might seem like I'm nitpicking, it's very distracting to watch a movie with a heroine who is supposed to be teenaged but looks like she's nearly forty.) For another, this one is closer to the book, although perhaps a bit more exaggerated. But then, that's what Jane Austen did best. If there was ever an exaggerated character, it was Mrs. Bennet from Pride and Prejudice.
While this adaptation is very close to the book, there are a couple difference. The biggest one is probably Edward Ferrars (Dan Stevens), who seems more handsome and less awkward than in the book. I was exceedingly disappointed in John Willoughby (Dominic Cooper), though. While his character is very close to my recollection of it in the book, the actor was a bad choice. He's not nearly as handsome as he should be, and his acting skills are perhaps not quite up to par. I much prefer Greg Wise in Emma Thompson's version.
The differences from the book notwithstanding, I love this movie. The scenery is absolutely beautiful, Hattie Morahan is perfect as Elinor (one of my favorite heroines of all time), and the writing is very good. While it doesn't come close to touching The Pride and Prejudice with Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle, Sense & Sensibility is definitely one of my favorite Jane Austen adaptations.
Note: Based on the book by Jane Austen
My Rating: T (sexual content and references (all in the first scene, which I have never seen; it might deserve an MT rating), thematic elements)
I greatly prefer this adaptation to the one by Emma Thompson. For one thing, the characters are much nearer their proper ages. (While this might seem like I'm nitpicking, it's very distracting to watch a movie with a heroine who is supposed to be teenaged but looks like she's nearly forty.) For another, this one is closer to the book, although perhaps a bit more exaggerated. But then, that's what Jane Austen did best. If there was ever an exaggerated character, it was Mrs. Bennet from Pride and Prejudice.
While this adaptation is very close to the book, there are a couple difference. The biggest one is probably Edward Ferrars (Dan Stevens), who seems more handsome and less awkward than in the book. I was exceedingly disappointed in John Willoughby (Dominic Cooper), though. While his character is very close to my recollection of it in the book, the actor was a bad choice. He's not nearly as handsome as he should be, and his acting skills are perhaps not quite up to par. I much prefer Greg Wise in Emma Thompson's version.
The differences from the book notwithstanding, I love this movie. The scenery is absolutely beautiful, Hattie Morahan is perfect as Elinor (one of my favorite heroines of all time), and the writing is very good. While it doesn't come close to touching The Pride and Prejudice with Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle, Sense & Sensibility is definitely one of my favorite Jane Austen adaptations.
Note: Based on the book by Jane Austen
My Rating: T (sexual content and references (all in the first scene, which I have never seen; it might deserve an MT rating), thematic elements)
Monday, January 31, 2011
In Relation To While You Were Sleeping
Lucy Moderatz (Sandra Bullock) is all alone. Her father died a year ago, leaving her without family, and her only friends are her co-worker and her boss. But she knows the man she's going to marry. That is, she knows what he looks like. He passes her every day on his way to work. Then, one day, an accident happens and Lucy saves his life. Peter (Peter Gallagher) is in a coma when his family arrives, and in the midst of all the confusion they get the impression that Lucy is engaged to him. Lucy doesn't have the courage to tell them the truth - and soon finds herself knee-deep in the kooky, but kind Callaghan family.
Pros: I absolutely love the Callaghans - particularly the Elsie the grandmother (Glynis Johns), Ox the dad (Peter Boyle), and, of course, Jack the brother (Bill Pullman). The storyline is whacky enough to be funny, but not whacky enough to be unbelievable. I also really like Lucy. Joe Fusco, Jr. (Michael Rispoli) is absolutely hilarious.Cons: There's one scene where the Callaghans are at Mass and Jack and Ox are talking about business. It's a funny scene, but I'd prefer if the hero paid attention to the Mass.
My Rating: MT (sexual references, language)
Picture from impawards.com
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
In Relation To The Blind Side
Michael Oher (Quinton Aaron) is a big, big boy. When the football coach at a Christian private school spots him playing basketball, he immediately decides he needs this young man on his team. That leads to Michael's enrollment in the school, despite his low grade-point average. Then Leigh Anne Tuohy (Sandra Bullock), who has two children who attend the same school, spots him and discovers he has nowhere to sleep at night. Being a southern firecracker who always gets her way and always does the right thing, Leigh Anne brings him home - supposedly just for the night.
Pros: I was pleasantly surprised at how much God was mentioned in this movie. It's refreshing to watch a Christian movie that wasn't put out by a low-budget Christian studio. I liked all the main characters, especially the little boy S.J. (Jae Head), who was a scream. There were some very funny parts. I had heard that the filmmakers used Michael's story as a "prop" for showing the Tuohys's goodness, but I thought the movie was equally about Michael and the Tuohys.Cons: Personally, I don't think Quinton Aaron is a particularly good actor. There were one or two very cliche lines.
My Rating: MT (sexual and drug references)
Picture from impawards.com
Friday, December 3, 2010
Regarding Sherlock: The Great Game
(Third movie in the BBC series with the twenty-first century Sherlock Holmes.) Someone is playing a dangerous game with Sherlock Holmes (Benedict Cumberbatch). The police consultant gets a phone call from a woman who's been strapped to a bomb. Someone will kill her unless Sherlock solves a case within a set time limit. His only clue? A pair of old shoes. Who would play such a cruel game? Why? Only Sherlock, with a little help from his associate, Dr. John Watson (Martin Freeman), can find out.
Pros: Pretty intense story! And talk about a surprising ending... and about the best cliff-hanger I've ever seen. (Can't wait for them to make more!) Funny, as usual. Oh, and DI Lestrade (Rupert Graves) is back, which is good. For my thoughts on this series in general, read my review of Sherlock: A Study in Pink.
Cons: It was a bit hard to keep up with at times, but I suppose that's because Sherlock speaks so quickly sometimes...
My Rating: T/MT ((depends on the person's exposure to homosexual people) sexual references, mild homosexual references)
Pros: Pretty intense story! And talk about a surprising ending... and about the best cliff-hanger I've ever seen. (Can't wait for them to make more!) Funny, as usual. Oh, and DI Lestrade (Rupert Graves) is back, which is good. For my thoughts on this series in general, read my review of Sherlock: A Study in Pink.
Cons: It was a bit hard to keep up with at times, but I suppose that's because Sherlock speaks so quickly sometimes...
My Rating: T/MT ((depends on the person's exposure to homosexual people) sexual references, mild homosexual references)
Monday, November 15, 2010
On Sherlock: The Blind Banker
(Second movie in the BBC series with the twenty-first century Sherlock Holmes.) Someone broke into a bank and vandalized it. No money was missing; nothing was stolen at all. But two spray-painted Chinese symbols were left on the wall: A message for someone. The owner of the bank calls Sherlock Holmes (Benedict Cumberbatch) for help. Sherlock proceeds to investigate the crime with the help of his flatmate, John Watson (Martin Freeman), and they soon discover the dead body of a man who worked at the bank. What do the symbols mean, and how did the person who painted them get into the bank? Only Sherlock Holmes has the brains to find out.
Pros: Hilarious, just like the first one. The story was sufficiently mysterious. Oh, and Watson has a girlfriend! A very nice one, too. There are very, very few gay references in this one; I believe there was only one. That was a bit of a relief after the first movie. See my review of Sherlock: A Study in Pink for my opinions on the series in general.
Cons: *Spoiler Warning* That nice Chinese girl from the museum ends up dead! That was very disappointing.
My Rating: T/MT ((depends on the person's exposure to homosexual people) sexual references, mild homosexual reference)
Pros: Hilarious, just like the first one. The story was sufficiently mysterious. Oh, and Watson has a girlfriend! A very nice one, too. There are very, very few gay references in this one; I believe there was only one. That was a bit of a relief after the first movie. See my review of Sherlock: A Study in Pink for my opinions on the series in general.
Cons: *Spoiler Warning* That nice Chinese girl from the museum ends up dead! That was very disappointing.
My Rating: T/MT ((depends on the person's exposure to homosexual people) sexual references, mild homosexual reference)
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Concerning A Battle Won
(Sequel to Under Enemy Colors, written by S. Thomas Russell.) Captain Charles Hayden, new master and commander of a little sloop, is spending time with his lovely sweetheart Henrietta, waiting for his ship to come into port. Unfortunately, a certain Captain Cotton has other plans. Hayden is reassigned to be a job-captain for the frigate Themis to escort a convoy to Lord Admiral Hood at Toulon. Quite naturally angry at this change of plans (job-captains take ships from one place to another and then hand them off to others, reverting back to lieutenants when they have completed their tasks), Hayden must deal with back-stabbing officers, twisted clergymen, disgruntled Army officers - oh, and the French as well.Pros: This is terribly exciting, and a little easier to follow in the battle scenes than the first book. I just love Henrietta, even though she's not in it very much. Just about the whole crew from the Themis is back - from the doctor to Wickham.
Cons: A nasty, cliff-hanging ending. Very unsatisfying.
My Rating: MT (language, sexual references)
Picture from sthomasrussell.com
Monday, November 8, 2010
In Relation To Under Enemy Colors
In S. Thomas Russell's book, Lieutenant Charles Hayden is at the end of his rope. He's a promising young officer in His Majesty's Navy shortly after the French Revolution, but he has no connections. If one is to advance in the Navy, one must know powerful people. So when the First Secretary offers him a position as first lieutenant aboard the Themis, a frigate captained by a man whose nickname is "Faint" Hart, Hayden reluctantly agrees. In the coming months, he will have to battle not only the French, but also his touchy captain - and a mutiny.
Pros: I thought this was really realistic; Russell obviously spent a lot of time researching. There was a lot of focus on characters other than Hayden, too, which was nice for this genre of book. Best of all, Hayden is actually a likeable guy, which I have not come across in any other series like this. Oh, and the sentences were very old-fashioned, but not confusingly so. They helped set the mood.Cons: I must admit, I got lost among some of the jargon. The sails, etc. could be ignored, but I was totally clueless about some of the ship sections during battle scenes... "Okay, where is he, exactly?" was a question I put to myself not infrequently.
My Rating: MT (language, violence)
Picture from sthomasrussell.com
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Regarding The Blind Side: Evolution of a Game
(Written by Michael Lewis.) Lawrence Taylor, one of the greatest NFL players ever. Michael Oher, a homeless kid on the streets of Memphis. What's the connection? Lawrence Taylor changed the game of football. His play forced teams to find extremely talented offensive linemen to block him. Michael Oher began to play offensive line in football when Sean and Leigh Anne Tuohy took him into their home. His talent for football helped change his life.Pros: The movie, while it was pretty much as good as a movie adaptation could be, does not do Michael's story justice. He was pretty much completely clueless about everything - and even continued to learn a lot of basic things when he got to college. The movie gives only a hint about how much he grew as a person from when he first came home with the Tuohys to when he graduated from college. Also, this book was absolutely filled with NFL history. Which is awesome for a football fan like me!
Cons: The writing style was much more "tell" than "show" - in other words, there weren't "scenes," there were "stories." Which is a little annoying for someone who likes fast-moving novels. But, I might add, there really wasn't any other way to write the book without excluding all the history.
My Rating: MT (language, sexual references)
Picture from austinchronicle.com
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