REVIEW: The Lone Ranger

The Lone Ranger (2013): Dir. Gore Verbinski. Written by: Justin Haythe, Ted Elliott, Terry Rossio. Based on The Lone Ranger by Fran Striker and George W. Trendle. Starring: Johnny Depp, Armie Hammer, Tom Wilkinson, William Fichtner, Barry Pepper and Helena Bonham Carter. Rated PG-13 (Guns blazing). Running time: 149 minutes.

2 stars (out of four)

The Lone Ranger is two-and-a-half hours long. If you’re wondering why an action reboot of a 1950s TV show (itself based on a 1930s radio serial) needs to be so long, you may find enlightening the fact that the director, Gore Verbinski, is the man who squeezed a total of seven hours and forty-three minutes’ worth of high seas adventures out of an eight-and-a-half minute theme park ride.

In all fairness, there are a few sequences in The Lone Ranger that gallop along with such jubilant energy you may be willing to forgive the bloated excesses of the film, which too often feels as though it is wading through molasses.

The best of these scenes is the climactic fight on a pair of speeding trains on parallel tracks. Set to the triumphant march of the William Tell Overture (the TV show’s theme), the battle adheres to Looney Tunes laws of physics and is an absolute thrill, though figuring out what exactly is happening and why might prove difficult. The scene is the climax of a jumbled and needlessly complicated plot and features no less than a half dozen participants. But as long as our heroes keep leaping, swinging and dueling, nothing matters except the chugga-chugga-choo-choo nonsense of the action.

During the film’s quieter passages, however, it is hard to muster much enthusiasm for the characters who populate this wild west world or understand their murky motivations. You know a script is weak when you’ve got Tom Wilkinson playing a corrupt politician, Barry Pepper as a mustachioed Army officer and Helena Bonham Carter as a one-legged prostitute, and your mind still wanders during the exposition.

But credit should be given to Armie Hammer who, it turns out, has charisma to match the impressive bone structure of his chiseled jawline. He is likable as John Reid, the dopey lawyer-turned-vigilante of the film’s title. He seeks to bring to justice (not revenge) to his brother’s cannibalistic murderer (William Fichtner, chewing the scenery and at least one man’s cardiovascular organ).

Getting just as much if not more screen time is Johnny Depp as Tonto, the wise-but-dumb Injun sidekick to the Lone Ranger. Tonto talks in fortune cookie phraseology and practices all kinds of goofy hokum, trying the Lone Ranger's patience and very often saving their skin. The character, a mostly inoffensive caricature rooted in decades’ old stereotypes, is a jokester who pokes fun at the white man’s hypocritical ways and acts as a catalyst for much of the film’s action. Johnny Depp, a gifted comedic actor, has a lot of fun with the role.

There’s a weeping damsel too who I very nearly forgot to mention. Rebecca (Ruth Wilson) is the widowed wife of the slain brother and (naturally) a romantic interest for the Lone Ranger. Keeping with the sexist traditions of the genre, the movie uses her as a prop. She spends half her screen time wringing her hands, gripping a scarf and holding back tears.

The Lone Ranger is a genial, good-natured waste of time, as pleasant as it is forgettable. And if you see it on a hot day, you’re guaranteed to get your money’s worth of air conditioning.

- Steve Avigliano, 7/8/13

REVIEW: Dark Shadows

Dark Shadows (2012): Dir. Tim Burton. Written by: Seth Grahame-Smith. Story by John August and Seth Grahame-Smith, based on the TV show Dark Shadows by Dan Curtis. Starring: Johnny Depp, Michelle Pfeiffer, Helena Bonham Carter, Eva Green, Jackie Earle Haley, Jonny Lee Miller, Chloë Grace Moretz and Bella Heathcote. Rated PG-13 (Plenty of blood-sucking and some suggestive but non-graphic sex). Running time: 113 minutes.

2 stars (out of four)

At this point, one may safely assume a new Tim Burton movie will not break new ground. He has found he can work comfortably in his pop-goth niche producing mixed results and he rarely has much interest in expanding his aesthetic or exploring outside the box. What he does instead is find new ways to play inside that box, or coffin, as the case almost always is.

This time he revives the late-1960s vampire soap opera Dark Shadows (unseen by me) for a tongue-in-cheek broad comedy. Mr. Burton’s pal Johnny Depp plays Barnabas Collins, the heir to a wealthy fish-packaging family who is cursed by the family’s young maid, Angelique (Eva Green), when he does not reciprocate her love. She is a witch, apparently, and transforms Barnabas into a vampire. She then turns the townspeople against him (torches, pitchforks and all) and they bury him alive.

There he rests until 1972 when construction on a new McDonalds unearths his coffin. To the old Collins manor he goes, to see what living relatives he may have who are willing to help him exact revenge on Angelique. The current residents of the Collins manor include Elizabeth (Michelle Pfeiffer), her daughter Carolyn (Chloë Grace Moretz), her brother Roger (Jonny Lee Miller) and his son David (Gulliver McGrath). David claims to be able to communicate with ghosts (in particular his deceased mother), an oddity the family treats by hiring a boozing, live-in doctor (Helena Bonham Carter) to hang around the house and watch him.

Also employed at the manor are a drunken groundskeeper (Jackie Earle Haley) and Victoria (Bella Heathcote), a young woman who has just arrived from New York and bears a striking (perhaps even mystical) resemblance to Barnabas’s dead lover. (Did I forget to mention Barnabas’s lover was killed by Angelique back in the day?)

Not that any of this matters much. The lengthy introduction turns out to just be a set-up for gags involving Barnabas wandering around and marveling at modern innovations such as automobiles and ice cream. The jokes in these scenes are tired and predictable but, thanks to Mr. Depp’s unflagging enthusiasm, made me chuckle about half the time.

At any rate, the comedy is more interesting than the undead love triangle that is supposedly at the center of this dramatically limp script by Seth Grahame-Smith and John August. The movie fails to convince us its characters are worth even paying attention to, much less emotionally investing in their fates. A number of scenes drift past without leaving any impression.

Playing eighteenth-century vampire-types must be a walk in the park for Johnny Depp by now but he finds ways to have fun with the part. Bella Heathcote’s gaunt, bug-eyed face makes her a classic Burton babe and she plays the character dull and submissive, which is how Mr. Burton typically portrays innocent and virginal young women. Michelle Pfeiffer and Helena Bonham Carter are amusing in underdeveloped bit parts and Jackie Earle Haley, in a rare comedic turn, seems to be enjoying himself. The weak link here is Chloë Grace Moretz, usually a firecracker, who here stomps around in one-note teen angst.

In one of the movie’s last scenes, a character reveals a major secret about herself but kindly asks everyone in the room to not make too big a deal out of it. Fair enough. Dark Shadows is not a movie that warrants a big response. It disappears from the mind as quickly as an apparition.

- Steve Avigliano, 5/13/12

REVIEW: Rango

Rango (2011): Dir. Gore Verbinski. Written by John Logan. Featuring the voices of Johnny Depp, Isla Fisher, Ned Beatty and Bill Nighy. Rated PG (rude humor, action, language and smoking). Running time: 107 minutes.

3 stars (out of four)

In the crowded market of computer-animated films, Rango comes as a delightful relief. A clever homage to classic westerns with enough wit and charm for two movies, this is one of the best animated comedies in recent years.

Johnny Depp voices the Chameleon With No Name, a pet who unwittingly ends up in the Mojave Desert after his terrarium falls off the back of a truck. He soon finds the town of Dirt, a relic of the Old West populated by an assortment of reptiles and rodents. The locals at the town saloon quickly size him up as an outsider, but our hero sees this as an opportunity to reinvent himself. He has a penchant for the dramatic – in the opening scene, we see him acting out Shakespeare with his tank accessories – so he invents a persona: the infamous Rango. That he should be called upon to prove his skills with a six-shooter does not initially cross his mind, but of course his big talk is soon put to the test. When he inadvertently saves the town from a hawk, he is promoted to sheriff.

Meanwhile, the town faces a drought. This is particularly troublesome considering the town’s water-based economy. Inside the bank’s safe is a blue water cooler that’s getting dangerously low. A plucky iguana named Beans (voiced by Isla Fisher), however, knows about a pipe where water is being mysteriously dumped into the desert. She suspects the corrupt mayor (a tortoise voiced by Ned Beatty) may be behind the town’s ill fortunes and turns to Rango, the town’s new hero, for help.

Fans of westerns – or Chinatown – know where the film is heading and that’s part of the fun. Rango borrows liberally from a number of films – in particular, the central conflict is directly lifted from that Roman Polanski classic – but never feels stale or familiar. The film wears its influences proudly; its plot is a pastiche of scenes and storylines from the great westerns and Rango takes great pleasure in reinventing these genre conventions. The references to other films aren’t merely in-jokes for the parents in the audience to chuckle at. They infuse the story with energy and humor.

The film is also exceptionally smart. Most of today’s animated fare (not bearing the Pixar brand) is too eager to cater to young audiences by dumbing down the story. Even the good ones have a tendency to move the plot along at breakneck speeds, as if the slightest dip in energy will lose a child’s interest. Rango takes time to develop its characters and allows the plot to twist and take unexpected detours. Admittedly, the film loses a little steam in its midsection, though it quickly picks up again.

The script is immensely clever. There are plenty of one-liners and the film boasts a big vocabulary (this is the wordiest animated film since Wes Anderson’s Fantastic Mr. Fox), but the film is not trapped by its cleverness. Rather than providing slapstick jokes for the kids and innuendos for the adults to catch, Rango’s jokes have universal appeal. This is an animated comedy that is simply very funny.

Johnny Depp’s voice acting is a great aid to the film. I’m often hesitant to embrace big name stars in animated films, but Depp is a strong choice for this sort of piteous everyman character. The actor has played a lot of larger-than-life characters in recent years and Rango reminds us how well he fits quieter roles, even if he only lends his voice here.

Industrial Light & Magic animated the film (a first for the special effects company), and the computer animation looks fantastic. Dirt is a richly detailed town with vibrant character. Its inhabitants have a woebegone charm as they scowl and hobble their way down the town’s main street. One character has an arrow stuck in his eye that pokes out the back of his head but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Director Gore Verbinski, who previously helmed the three Pirates films, appears to have had no trouble venturing into animation. He was also behind the unjustly unloved The Weather Man, and I wonder if his real talent is for comedies and not blockbuster epics.

In the avalanche of computer animated movies continually vying for audiences’ attentions, Rango stands a head above the rest. It offers an inventive story and strong characters over tired retreads and sequels, and intellect and humor over 3D glasses.

- Steve Avigliano, 3/5/11

REVIEW: The Tourist

The Tourist (2010): Dir. Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck. Written by: Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, Christopher McQuarrie, Julian Fellowes, based on a French film Anthony Zimmer (written by Jérôme Salle). Starring: Angelina Jolie, Johnny Depp, Paul Bettany, Timothy Dalton, Steven Berkoff. Rated PG-13 (violence and brief strong language). Running time: 103 minutes.

2 stars (out of four)

Frank Tupelo (played by Johnny Depp) is an American tourist who reads spy novels. A good adventure story excites him and, like any of us, he is eager to believe an unbelievable story if it means getting caught up in some excitement for at least a little while. So when the beautiful Elise (Angelina Jolie) sits across from him on a train ride through the France, it doesn’t take long for him to get caught up in some international intrigue. By the end of the film, he becomes absorbed in the action but forgets to bring his like-minded adventure-seekers – us, the audience – with him. We sit there, willing to believe the preposterous story unfolding onscreen but the film takes advantage of our tolerance and goes from being merely unbelievable to nearly unbearable.

The film begins with Elise, a beautiful woman with a high-profile boyfriend, Alexander Pearce, who is being hunted on two fronts. The British government wants him for stealing millions and a mobster (Steven Berkoff) wants him for stealing billions. A letter from Pearce instructs Elise to find a man on a train with a similar body type to his. The Brits, led by a determined agent (Paul Bettany), know that Pearce has undergone constructive surgery and can be easily thrown off the trail with a decoy.

The decoy is Frank and from here the film becomes a Hitchcockian story of mistaken identity. The problem, however, is that the entry point into that story is all wrong. Hitchcock understood that a mysterious story on its own isn’t enough to hook the audience. We have to be lured into it. By introducing us first to Elise rather than Frank, the film takes the wind out of a good premise by letting the audience in on too much too quickly.

Awful writing doesn’t help the film either. The screenplay is rushed, banking on the film’s star power to generate interest in its thinly sketched characters. For what it’s worth though, Johnny Depp works hard to make Frank’s naïve, wet behind the ears tourist a likable character. Even when Depp is delivering the clumsiest of lines, we believe his face while we cringe at the words he’s been asked to say. Depp’s performance is an honest one that reminds us why he’s a movie star. Angelina Jolie’s lips, on the other hand, remind us why she is. Her character is a stiff, uninteresting spy film stock character, the kind of bland femme fatale that the hero usually passes over for the more homely but charming heroine. No such character exists in The Tourist.

The rest of the cast fills out their roles well enough. Bettany is good as an agent desperate to crack the case and look good to his boss (played by former Bond, Timothy Dalton) and Berkoff makes a fine villain. Were the rest of the film better, their performances might have been colorful exercises in spy movie side characters. As the film is though, they only serve to take screen time away from our protagonists, who we don’t very much care about anyway.

Strange that Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck helms this film, a German director whose native-language debut The Lives of Others won him a deserved Oscar for Best Foreign Film. That film, a thoughtful meditation on the nature voyeurism and surveillance, presented Donnersmarck as an exciting new voice. Why he chose such a lackluster spy flick as its follow-up is beyond me, though maybe this will take some of the pressures and expectations off him when crafting his next feature.

One can’t help though but put much of the blame here on Donnersmarck. He seems uncomfortable directing the material and he either wasn’t allowed to make many of the creative decisions or simply deferred the responsibility to studio heads. The oddly trite musical score by James Newton Howard, for example, is a disaster. It alternates between thumping techno in the action scenes and sappy strings in the would-be romantic ones, successfully undermining every scene in the film.

The pacing is off too. The film takes a long time to get started and doesn’t do much once it does. When we finally reach the absurd ending, we barely care that it makes no logical sense. Fortunately for Donnersmarck, the rest of the film is bad enough that no one would want to go back for a second viewing to find all the plot holes.

A good spy film needn’t be realistic, but there is a difference between the unbelievable and the unbelievably contrived. The Tourist straddles that line and jumps head first onto the wrong side.

- Steve Avigliano, 12/17/10

REVIEW: Public Enemies

Public Enemies (2009): Dir. Michael Mann. Written by: Ronan Bennett, Ann Biderman, Michael Mann. Based on the book by: Bryan Burrough. Starring: Johnny Depp, Christian Bale, Marion Cotillard. Rated R (gangster violence and some language). Running time: 143 min.

3 stars (out of four)

Truly great action goes a long way to elevating a middling story. In a summer that has already had two giant-robot-movies, director Michael Mann’s emphasis on adrenaline over spectacle is refreshing. That’s not to say the story Public Enemies is a weak one; it merely fails to offer anything new.

John Dillinger, played with class and restraint by Johnny Depp, is a bank robber in the so-called “golden age of bank robberies.” He is a criminal who sees himself as an entertainer: his heists are his performances, and the American people his audience. His impressive criminal record (already well under way at the start of the film) ironically earns him the title, “Public Enemy #1,” but it’s clear from the media attention he receives, the man is nothing short of a celebrity. After being arrested, an impromptu press conference is held at the police station while reporters scramble to ask questions of the cuffed Dillinger. Throughout all of this, Dillinger remains a man of the people, insisting on only taking “the bank’s money” leaving the change and belongings of patrons behind.

The plot treats Dillinger’s crime streak in the 30’s as a standard cat-and-mouse crime film, with Christian Bale as Melvis Pulvis, the newly appointed leader of the FBI’s hunt for Dillinger. However, to label either man as the mouse would be to downplay the competition between the two. Bale (thankfully breaking his grunting speech with an accent somewhere between Southern and Bruce Wayne) is a smart and exacting hunter, with Depp playfully dragging him and the FBI along his trail. The remainder of the film’s heart lies in a standard romance with the beautiful Billie (Marion Cotillard) who Dillinger handpicks out of a club and subsequently woos with his fugitive charm.

Both the romance and the competitive interplay between Depp and Bale however are underdeveloped, and the real meat of Public Enemies is its action. As he did with his last two films (the brilliant Collateral and the stylish but underwhelming Miami Vice), Mann uses handheld cameras to give immediacy to his action scenes, thrusting the viewer into the center of the violence. At times it almost feels as if we’re watching a well-shot episode of Cops. These kinetic sequences are edited with quick cuts, giving brief flashes of images that imprint themselves on your eyelids. Where other films’ attempts to use handheld cameras result in nausea and confusion, Mann skillfully creates some exhilarating moments with a pace worthy of a man who claimed he could rob a bank in a minute forty flat. This modern style works well with the film’s period details, avoiding the tedium that often comes with period pieces.

Public Enemies paints an image of this moment in history as the end of an era. Crime and crime fighting are no longer a gentleman’s game, and both Dillinger and Pulvis find their fields being taken over by more heartless men than them. Dillinger’s Robin Hood persona doesn’t fit with the brutal violence of his peers like Baby Face Nelson (Stephen Graham), and Pulvis is told by J. Edgar Hoover (Billy Crudup) that he’ll need to “take off the white gloves” in order to catch Dillinger.

But the film never truly delivers on these elements of history and character, and we’re left with a half-developed concept of these men and their time. Still, in the hands of Michael Mann it’s hard to complain with the final result. I’ll always be a man who prefers story to action, but damn if I don’t just love the sound of a Tommy gun.

- Steve Avigliano, 7/2/09