REVIEW: To the Wonder

To the Wonder (2013): Written and directed by: Terrence Malick. Starring: Ben Affleck, Olga Kurylenko, Rachel McAdams, Javier Bardem and Romina Mondello. Rated R (Fleeting glimpses of breasts). Running time: 113 minutes.

2 stars (out of four)

Offhand, I can only recall one instance – no, wait, I’ve just thought of another – when a character walks at a pace faster than an idle stroll in To the Wonder, Terrence Malick’s dispiritingly limp new film. As Mr. Malick’s ever-moving camera swirls about his subjects, you may find yourself wishing someone would take a sure step forward and walk with something resembling purpose and conviction.

But this is not a film that places much value on certainty. To the Wonder, though it is not to be confused with the imperative Lil’ Jon refrain, does actually feature its share of characters moving to the windows. Standing beside the windows of homes, churches and motel rooms, they sometimes caress and kiss one another but more often they simply gaze outside looking for… for what?

For happiness, I suppose. Also empathy and love. The film’s characters are trapped inside themselves, longing for a lasting and meaningful connection to another person. This is, at least, how I saw the movie but it is abstract enough to invite multiple interpretations.

To the Wonder follows, in mostly linear fashion, a relationship in decline. A French woman (Olga Kurylenko), abandoned by another man some years earlier, decides to move to a rural Midwestern town where she and her daughter (Tatiana Chiline) will live with an American man (Ben Affleck). Terrence Malick also interweaves memories from the past, chases tangents by following the lives of other townspeople and ends on what I understood to be a fantasy.

We never learn how the two met but it is soon clear that the romance is now gone and the love was perhaps never there to begin with. Ben Affleck’s character as we see him is cold and detached. He is usually down for some fondling (beside one of those windows) or sex but we can see from the anguished expressions of Olga Kurylenko that something vital is missing from their relationship.

This man remains at a distance, not only from Ms. Kurylenko, but from us as well. His presence looms large over the film but we never get a sense of his internal emotions, not even when he is alone. He wanders through the muck and dirt of construction sites, apparently surveying the damage being done to the town’s water, which has been tainted by chemicals, but no expression ever crosses his face. Is he weary? Defeated? Indifferent? Mr. Malick does not offer any clues. Ben Affleck has hardly any lines in the entire film; he just walks around stone-faced and vacant-looking.

Call it an artistic gamble, an experiment, a bold choice, but it drains the emotional power from the movie. And with the heart of the film missing, its curious diversions are all the more frustrating. The midsection of the film, which depicts a romance between Ben Affleck and an old flame played by Rachel McAdams, adds nothing new. He is the same with her as with Ms. Kurylenko. An opportunity to flesh out a new side to this opaque character is lost.

Javier Bardem, as a priest, walks around town, speaking with and blessing the impoverished. Some are physically deformed from the contaminated water. His scenes in this ostensible leper colony offer some fascinating images worth chewing on and mulling over but they feel too disconnected from the rest of the film. It is difficult to know what to make of them.

And this is what makes To the Wonder such a tantalizing but ultimately underwhelming film. Mr. Malick is known for shooting lots of material and whittling it down to its final form in the editing room, and the results are usually mesmerizing. His films are lyrical suites of images and naturalistic moments caught on film; structurally, they resemble musical compositions more than narrative storytelling. But something is missing this time.

You get the sense that the raw material of To the Wonder has potential to make a very strong movie but that Terrence Malick has cut the film in a way that dampens this material’s impact and mutes the emotions. There are at least a dozen breathtaking shots in To the Wonder and I find myself thinking about the film days later, recalling images from it the way one does a dream. All the more disappointing then that the actual experience of watching To the Wonder was such a chore.

The exception is Olga Kurylenko who, particularly in the film’s second half, gives a forceful performance. She is lonely and desperate for love, and cannot understand why the man who invited her to live with him continues to deny her any kind of real intimacy. In one scene, a friend (Romina Mondello) visits her and the two stroll through the wide streets of this flat Midwestern town (leisurely of course). The friend yells out. Where is everyone? Is this whole town dead? Where is the life? The passion? All valid questions.

- Steve Avigliano, 5/2/13

REVIEW: Evil Dead

Evil Dead (2013): Dir. Fede Alvarez. Written by: Fede Alvarez and Rodo Sayagues. Based on The Evil Dead by Sam Raimi. Starring: Jane Levy, Shiloh Fernandez, Lou Taylor Pucci, Jessica Lucas and Elizabeth Blackmore. Rated R (Endless brutal gore). Running time: 92 minutes.

3 ½ stars (out of four)

Given the recent spate of tired horror retreads, you will be forgiven for assuming that Evil Dead, a remake of Sam Raimi’s 1981 cult classic schlockfest The Evil Dead, is another attempt to cannibalize and dismember a beloved horror franchise by taking only its name and leaving behind its heart and soul. But Evil Dead is far from an uninspired hack job. Scene by scene, from its blisteringly over-the-top opening to its certifiably insane finale, Evil Dead makes a forceful case for its own existence: A horror movie need not break new ground or reinvent the genre in order to feel fresh and new. It just needs to be bigger and badder and better than its peers.

Compare Evil Dead with last year’s The Cabin in the Woods, which was more of a genre deconstruction, pointing out its clichés as they happened. That film was undeniably clever but also kind of smug and I prefer Evil Dead’s classicist approach. Director Fede Alvarez, who co-wrote the script with Rodo Sayagues, revels in the contrivances of the plot. The story is of course familiar but rarely is it told with such zeal.

Five doomed twentysomethings meet at a dilapidated shack in the middle of the woods for a weekend retreat. The trip is actually an intervention for Mia (Jane Levy), whose heroin habit, we learn, has nearly killed her. Joining her for moral support as she tries to get clean is her estranged brother David (Shiloh Fernandez) who left her years earlier to single-handedly take care of their dying mother.

The cabin was a family vacation spot for Mia and David in happier times and it has no doubt seen better days. There never used to be, for example, dozens of dead cats hanging from the basement ceiling, not to mention the stench of burnt hair, the loaded shotgun and an ominous book sealed shut by barbed wire. Leave it to their know-it-all friend (Lou Taylor Pucci) to crack the thing open, start reading aloud and awaken an ancient evil.

There aren’t many surprises in Evil Dead, at least not in the broad strokes of the story, but what makes it so effective is its relentlessness. Once the demonic activity gets under way (and the film wastes very little time getting there), it keeps building momentum, getting wilder and crazier. And despite the presence of two attractive but thoroughly expendable beauties (Jessica Lucas and Elizabeth Blackmore), the movie is notably devoid of sex.

Evil Dead focuses its energies instead on its unrelenting gore. The violence is extreme but pitched at just the right level of ridiculousness to elicit laughter from the audience amidst the disgusted screams and shocked gasps. The various bodily mutilations in the film have the same anatomical graphicness of torture porn but Evil Dead has none of the mean-spiritedness that marks those films. Fede Alvarez comes from that school of horror that combines well-made prosthetics with gallons of fake blood all in the pursuit of a trashy good time. This is the same school Sam Raimi came from and judging by Mr. Raimi’s producer credit on this film, Mr. Alvarez’s approach must have met his approval.

Fede Alvarez and his team delight in some wonderfully nasty details that take Evil Dead up a notch in terms of pure horror craftsmanship. Take one scene, where a character vomits an unholy torrent of blood on another, and notice how chunks of god-knows-what linger in the recipient’s hair for the remainder of the scene, making for a disgustingly hilarious sight gag. Or listen on the soundtrack to the wail of what sounds like an air raid siren, used during a few select moments of terror.

Also crucial to the film’s success is a breakout performance from Jane Levy. She is a remarkably versatile actress, playing the tormented and the possessed tormentor at different points, and is the clear standout in a cast of cardboard cutouts. (A lack of depth in the other characters is not exactly the actors’ faults, though I could have used a little more charisma from Shiloh Fernandez who gets the bulk of screen time in the film’s midsection). And while Ms. Levy is hardly Bruce Campbell, the star of The Evil Dead and its two ultra-campy sequels, she does help the movie maintain that delicate balance between horror and comedy.

I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun squirming in my seat, wincing at the screen and smacking my girlfriend’s arm. I had a blast at this one.

- Steve Avigliano, 4/8/13

In Memoriam: Roger Ebert

On Sunday afternoons in my house growing up, we made a ritual of watching “Ebert & Roeper.” The show usually aired early that morning or late the previous night, so around noon my father and I would go to the VCR and rewind the tape we had recorded the show on to see which movies Roger Ebert and Richard Roeper had reviewed that week. If a movie looked good and day’s schedule was clear, we went to the newspaper, looked up showtimes and tried to catch a matinee.

In this way I saw countless movies, always on Roger Ebert’s recommendation. There is no question that I have read or watched more of his reviews than any other single critic. His genial presence on TV and the candid, conversational style of his writing gave you the sense he was a friend telling you which movies were worth your money and which you should avoid. He died Thursday of cancer and he will be missed.

During my formative movie-watching years, he helped shape my taste in movies. (The first time I was ever outraged by a movie review was in reaction to his two-star panning of Attack of the Clones. Unbelievable! Blasphemous! I thought as a twelve-year-old. Years later, looking back, I realize now he was right about that one.)

He was an immensely knowledgeable critic but always emphasized the subjective nature of film criticism. Analyzing artistry and craftsmanship was important, of course, but in the end all that really mattered to him was his personal, gut-level response to a movie. That was what interested him, what was worth writing about, what made a movie worth arguing about (first with Gene Siskel, then with Richard Roeper, on the “At the Movies” TV show). He freely shared details of his personal life if they changed how he saw a given movie and openly confessed his biases and preferences. He shamelessly gushed over his favorites and scorned the films he had no patience for.

He was also a forward-thinking man. One of the first critics to embrace the web, he reveled in the internet’s ability to foster opinion-sharing and debate. He did not believe, as many do, that the golden age of film criticism was forty years ago, when he was awarded a Pulitzer Prize – a first for a movie critic – and rose to fame. We are currently living in that golden age, he said. For as long as the thoughtful discussion and heartfelt enjoyment of movies exists, Roger Ebert’s spirit will live on.

- Steve Avigliano, 4/5/13

Best of 2012: My Top 5 Movies of 2012

Here are my Top 5 Favorite Movies of 2012. (I’ve also included one Wildcard Pick and an Honorable Mention so I suppose altogether this is my Top 7.)

The Wildcard Pick: Savages (Original Review)

My wildcard pick this year is Oliver Stone’s addictive, blistering Savages about the weed business. Depending on how you look at this brash and reckless movie, you may deem it a frustrating failure or an exhilarating entertainment. Then again, why choose? Oliver Stone does the equivalent of bringing an Uzi to an archery range. He makes quite the mess of things but you can’t say he doesn’t hit his target. The movie is too long and the ending is a strange, ungainly disaster but I can’t say that any other movie this year shocked or thrilled me more. If you’re looking for the most bang for your buck, look no further.

Honorable Mention: Argo (Original Review)

A terrific audience-pleaser and perhaps the best thriller of the year, director Ben Affleck’s Argo is great, edge-of-your-seat entertainment. It tells the absurd, true story of a CIA mission that faked a movie production to retrieve a group of American citizens during the 1979 Iranian hostage crisis. The movie acknowledges the fraught international politics of the time but is first and foremost a daring rescue movie. This one is loads of fun and smart to boot.

5) The Master (Original Review)

At the end of The Master there are loose ends left untied and mysteries that go unexplained. Frustration with the film’s anticlimax and lack of a resolution is perfectly natural. But part of the fun of this movie – and this is assuming you share my idea of fun – is sifting through this strange and fascinating drama and guessing at what it could all possibly mean.

This is not to say the film is some sort of scholarly exercise; it’s much better than that. Watch the bizarre bond that forms between a mentally unstable WWII veteran named Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix, unhinged and with a wild look in his eye) and Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman, never better), the charismatic leader of a dubious New Age church. Their relationship twists and turns as the two men gain power and leverage over one another. The Master is a half-mad swirl of sexual impulses, pseudo-scientific babble and violent outbursts. I can’t say I understood it all but I was never bored.

4) Zero Dark Thirty

There are a number of thorny issues at play in Zero Dark Thirty – the use of torture on political detainees, the gender politics of women in government – but the heart of the film drives at a larger, more encompassing question: Is the ultimate objective of the War on Terror to protect the homeland from future attacks or to punish those responsible for 9/11? For Maya (an intensely focused Jessica Chastain), the distinction is irrelevant. Either way the goal is the same – take out Osama bin Laden.

The film is a historical approximation of the leads and events that resulted in bin Laden’s death on May 2, 2011, but what elevates it beyond the level of a made-for-TV movie is director Kathryn Bigelow’s remarkable craftsmanship and eye for poetic detail. The final assault on bin Laden’s compound – a flurry of night vision green and fiery explosions set against the darkness of night – is as tense as any action movie. When the dust clears, the human drama ends on a note of bittersweet uncertainty. Whether bin Laden was killed for the sake of homeland security or justice may not matter from a military perspective but emotionally how does one reconcile the two and move on?

3) Amour

Amour is a movie of few words so it seems wrong to use too many here to describe its greatness. This quiet, poignant love story follows an elderly couple as the husband grapples with the deteriorating health of his wife. Through the keen direction of Michael Haneke the film reveals intimate depths of its characters’ emotional lives often with little or no dialogue.

Amour is a devastating study of life and love in its final stages. It explores the difficulty of dying with dignity and of finally letting go when the time is right, but it is not all doom and gloom. Few movies are this honest and true. Every moment in it feels real and its message is ultimately life affirming.

2) Lincoln (Original Review)

There’s no sense in hiding it. Director Steven Spielberg and screenwriter Tony Kushner’s Lincoln is a history lesson. But what this impressive, entertaining movie shows us is that the participants of history were real people with large personalities, not some culmination of dates and facts like our high school curriculum might have us believe. They were politicians who were as prone to grandstanding and as stubbornly biased as today’s elected officials are. Lincoln’s thirteenth amendment to the Constitution, which abolished slavery, was an ambitious piece of legislation and its passage required bravery and political cunning, but also bribery.

There is no mistaking that Lincoln is a Steven Spielberg prestige picture – it is beautifully shot and features a slew of exceptional performances that will no doubt make the Oscar voters swoon – but it is also vibrant and alive in a way few period pieces are. Abraham Lincoln and the congressmen of his time understood they were making history but for them it was a very real present where victory was far from certain. History lessons are rarely as fascinating and exciting as this one.

1) Moonrise Kingdom (Original Review)

Moonrise Kingdom has the warm feel of a half-forgotten childhood memory and director Wes Anderson brings it to life with the visual whimsy of a picture book. The movie breezes by, telling the story of Sam and Suzy (Jared Gilman and Kara Hayward, each pitch perfect), two lovesick kids who run away from home to be with one another. They are mature beyond their years and yet also heartbreakingly naïve, blissfully unaware of the crushing reality that awaits them outside the bubble of childhood.

This sad fact of life is not lost on the other inhabitants of the small New England island where the film takes place. The remaining cast of characters, a motley crew of melancholic grown-ups, drift in and out of the picture, desperate to find Sam and Suzy while also preoccupied with their own adult problems. Wes Anderson and Roman Coppola’s script finds bittersweet humor in their characters’ lives but never condescends to them. This blend of comedy and pathos is a delicate balancing act but Wes Anderson and his terrific cast – including Frances McDormand, Bill Murray, Ed Norton and Bruce Willis – walk the tightrope wonderfully.

Much like the private cove its young heroes discover and seek refuge in (and also gives the film its name), Moonrise Kingdom is an inviting paradise. One visit is not enough.

- Steven Avigliano, 2/24/13

Best of 2012: My Favorite Performances

The Oscars have it all wrong. By trying to determine “the objective best” performances of the year, the same sorts of roles get nominated year after year and a lot of strong work gets overlooked. What follows are my favorite performances of 2012. Are they the best? I’m not sure I even know what that means. These are the performances that made bad movies decent and good movies better. These are the actors I was talking about with my friends as I left the theater. These are the ones I’m still thinking about.

I’ve listed them in alphabetical order, selecting one as my favorite of the year and one bonus prize for the best ensemble.

Josh Brolin – Men in Black 3

Doing his best Tommy Lee Jones impression, Josh Brolin as Agent K’s younger self was the highlight of the second, time-traveling sequel to Men in Black. He may even play the straight man to Will Smith even better than Jones did. Getting laughs with nothing more than a mean mug and a dry Southern drawl, Brolin made this thoroughly unnecessary movie a pleasant surprise.

Daniel Day-Lewis – Lincoln

At the heart of Steven Spielberg’s superb film is Daniel Day-Lewis’s portrayal of Abraham Lincoln. He disappears into the role as he always does but he doesn’t dominate the movie. The performance is low-key, painting the former president as a thoughtful, intellectual man. Of course, Lincoln is known as a great orator and Day-Lewis gets a few moments to shine in this capacity. But note also the quieter moments when he jokes with cabinet members or discusses with his wife the fate of their enlisted son. The performance is another in a line of great ones in the actor’s impressive career.

Andrew Garfield – The Amazing Spider-Man

There’s a moment in The Amazing Spider-Man when Andrew Garfield shakes his head, grinning, mouth agape, apparently speechless. I imagine I’d look much the same way were I lying in the arms of Emma Stone while she tended to my wounds. Garfield is thoroughly convincing as a teenager suddenly given super powers – a little cocky and a little clumsy but well intentioned. His Peter Parker is a charmer in a way Tobey Maguire never was in the role and his performance helped make The Amazing Spider-Man the most fun I had at the movies this summer. 

Salma Hayek – Savages

A wildly over-the-top Salma Hayek devours her role as a drug kingpin in Oliver Stone’s Savages. Cursing in two languages and wearing some fantastic wigs, she gives a movie that is already high off its own supply an added jolt of adrenaline.

Anne Hathaway – The Dark Knight Rises, Les Misérables

Yes, Anne Hathaway steals the show with her stellar rendition of “I Dreamed a Dream” in Les Misérables, but I enjoyed her turn as the sexy, wise-cracking seductress Selina Kyle (a.k.a. Catwoman) in The Dark Knight Rises even more. The movie, which very nearly collapses under the weight of its own seriousness, is actually a lot of fun whenever she’s on screen and if there’s one thing it could have used more of, it’s her.

Philip Seymour Hoffman / Joaquin Phoenix – The Master

Any interpretation of Paul Thomas Anderson’s maddening new film hinges on how you view the relationship between Lancaster Dodd (Hoffman) and Freddie Quell (Phoenix). Is their bond that of a father to his son? A teacher to his pupil? A scientist to a lab rat? All of the above? Each actor makes his part nuanced and complex. We can never pin these men down and this inability to fully understand their relationship is what makes the movie so compulsively fascinating.

Samuel L. Jackson – Django Unchained

In a film that mostly ignores the complexity of race relations in the Old South, Samuel L. Jackson fearlessly digs into some very tricky material as Stephen, the loyal servant of a cruel and violent plantation owner. He is frighteningly intense but, being a Tarantino veteran, Jackson is more than capable of navigating the sudden tonal shifts from drama to comedy and back. Stephen is a fascinating variation on the Uncle Tom archetype, muddying the waters of Tarantino’s overly simplistic morality and enlivening the movie’s last act.

Jennifer Lawrence – Silver Linings Playbook

A far cry from her solid-as-a-rock performance as Katniss Everdeen in The Hunger Games, Jennifer Lawrence shows off her range playing the romantic foil to a manic depressive Bradley Cooper. She is emotionally guarded and prone to mood swings but watch how her face shows you everything her character is thinking and hints at the sudden outbursts just before they happen.

Channing Tatum – 21 Jump Street

Channing Tatum is hilarious. Who knew? He has comedic timing to match his good looks and his presence here helps freshen up Jonah Hill’s fast-talking shtick in one of the year’s most unexpectedly funny movies.

My Favorite Performance: Martin Freeman – The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

If Peter Jackson’s first Hobbit movie wasn’t quite perfect, there was at least one aspect of it that was: Martin Freeman’s Bilbo Baggins. Freeman gets the part exactly right. His Bilbo is a homebody, curious about the outside world and with an impish streak in him, but mostly content to curl up by the fire with a good book. Whenever the movie threatens to get lost in a computer-generated frenzy, Freeman can be counted on to right the ship’s course. Though he is too often relegated to the sidelines in this first film, the next two parts of the trilogy would be wise to turn to Mr. Baggins more often.

Best Ensemble – Moonrise Kingdom

The cast Wes Anderson collects for his latest feature is an enviable one. Some of them play roles we’re familiar seeing them in. Bill Murray is as reliable as ever playing a sad sack and Frances McDormand is a joy to watch as his wife, a Type A personality who wears the pants in the family. But others play refreshingly against type. Ed Norton is a lot of fun as a scout leader who is still a boy at heart and Bruce Willis is touching as a lonely police officer. Add to that some fine supporting roles from Bob Balaban, Harvey Keitel, Jason Schwartzman and Tilda Swinton, not to mention some excellent young newcomers (including Jared Gilman and Kara Hayward as the eloping young lovers), and you have an excellent ensemble led by Wes Anderson, one of the best maestros around.

- Steve Avigliano, 2/23/13

Best of 2012: My Favorite Reviews I Didn't Agree With

When did we stop engaging in good-hearted debate? Whatever happened to the lost art of agreeing to disagree? Personally, my favorite part of analyzing a movie is never writing the review. I enjoy the conversations that follow, the heated discussions and debates. I like trying to convince someone to give a movie they hated a second chance and I love when someone forces me to reconsider an opinion of my own.

So in the name of that lost art, here are my favorite professional reviews I read this year that made me reconsider and reevaluate a select few movies.

Though the movie didn’t do much for me, I understand why people enjoyed The Avengers. But I’ll always be amused at the outrage some people felt when they found out someone actually could have been unimpressed by the movie. I thought it was the same old product I'd seen a hundred times before (except this time a little bigger, a little louder and a lot longer) but Wesley Morris of The Boston Globe gave what I found to be the most persuasive argument for its existence. The movie, he writes, “is as close as a movie can come to the fantastical reality of a really good comic book.” And the fact that the movie offers no surprises isn't important. “I might not remember any of the sequences in The Avengers, but I’ll remember the rush. I don’t need anything else.” Fair enough.

And besides, how I felt about The Avengers is pretty much how a lot of other people felt about The Amazing Spider-Man, a movie I had a blast at. Its story, writes Manohla Dargis of The New York Times, is one “that many moviegoers older than 10 may think they’ve seen because they probably did when the first movie burned up the box office.” The filmmakers, she contends, “weren’t allowed to take true imaginative flight at a company that’s conspicuously banking on a resuscitated franchise to carry it through its next fiscal quarters.” Ouch. I suppose corporate products are as prone to subjective interpretation as art.

Speaking of art, I was one of many left in awe by Paul Thomas Anderson's latest, The Master. But I completely understood the reactions from friends and critics alike who were left cold by what they felt was a pretentious mess. Richard Corliss of Time magazine points out a number of issues that he feels holds the movie back from greatness. It “violates the cardinal rule of the father-son or master-servant plot: that the acolyte will somehow change his mentor” and once this becomes clear, “after about an hour, the story flatlines into repetition without development.” It’s a solid argument and one that I can't yet counter. But I suspect that this lack of change, while certainly counter to any intuitive sense of what drama should be, is part of the film's challenging message.

On the other end of the spectrum, I was thoroughly disappointed by Quentin Tarantino’s Django Unchained. But I found New York Times critic A.O. Scott’s scholarly defense of the film enlightening. I felt Tarantino’s characters were flat and one-dimensional. Scott argues, however, that Tarantino “does not hesitate to train his revisionist energies on some deep and ancient national legends” and “exposes and defies an ancient taboo” – that a black man can be the agent of that classic literary motive: revenge. And the violence is not exploitative as much as it embodies Tarantino’s “moral disgust with slavery, instinctive sympathy for the underdog and an affirmation (in the relationship between Django and Schultz) of what used to be called brotherhood.” Scott views the movie from an interesting perspective, one I wouldn’t have thought to take. I’m still not sure the movie clicks for me but let’s just say I agree to disagree.

- Steve Avigliano, 2/23/13

REVIEW: Django Unchained

Django Unchained (2012): Written and directed by Quentin Tarantino. Starring: Jamie Foxx, Christoph Waltz, Leonardo DiCaprio, Kerry Washington and Samuel L. Jackson. Rated R (All the blood and racial epithets you'd expect of the antebellum South and then some). Running time: 165 minutes.

2 stars (out of four)

The genius of Quentin Tarantino has always been his ability to pull off scenes that should never work. Take for example Kill Bill, that sprawling two-part tribute to his favorite exploitation flicks and a one-stop deposit for all his craziest ideas. In Kill Bill, he drags his characters through one extravagant set piece after another and indulges in all sorts of ludicrous action. Yet somehow, miraculously, he makes them feel human. He convinces us they are worth rooting for and we actually feel invested in his lunacy.

Watching his work in recent years – both Kill Bill films, Inglourious Basterds, and now his latest, Django Unchained – has often felt like watching a man juggling live sticks of dynamite. At any moment, it seems, he could trip and the whole thing would go kablooey right in his face. To top it off, his style is wildly brash and self-assured, as though he never doubted anything less than the complete and total success of his manic creations.

His most recent creation is a rescue-the-girl western set in the Old South two years before the Civil War. A slave named Django (played with grim, one-note determination by Jamie Foxx) is trudging through the Texas wilderness on a chain gang when a traveling German dentist appears out of the darkness. Dr. King Schultz (a delightful Christoph Waltz) introduces himself to the two slave traders escorting the chain gang.

Like so many Tarantino characters, Schultz has a large vocabulary and a flair for theatricality. He dances around the subject a while but eventually makes his intentions clear. He is going to buy Django from them whether they agree to it or not. This opening scene, cheerfully overwritten and crackling with tension, is a thrill. Quentin Tarantino neatly lays out the stakes and has fun letting the situation slowly play out.

Django and Schultz soon ride off in a carriage that has a large white tooth on its roof bouncing on a spring (a wonderfully goofy and inspired sight gag that, judging by how often we see it in the film’s first act, Mr. Tarantino is clearly very proud of). We learn that Schultz is not a dentist but a bounty hunter. He needs Django to identify a trio of wanted men who previously worked on a plantation where Django was once a resident.

What follows is a series of amusing, if needlessly drawn-out, episodes that feature Don Johnson as a mustachioed plantation owner and Jonah Hill as Ku Klux Klan leader. There are some good nyuks had over the Klan’s homemade white hoods but this leg of the movie doesn’t quite have that Tarantino magic and the movie plods along for a while until it finds its real story.

Django wants to rescue his wife (Kerry Washington), who is currently a house slave for the wealthy and debonair Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio having a lot of fun with a Southern accent). Candie runs a profitable business pitting slaves against each other in fight-to-the-death matches at his manor – named Candyland (nyuk, nyuk) – so Django and Schultz devise a plan to dupe Candie into selling them Django’s wife by posing as slave traders interested in buying one of his prize fighters.

Django Unchained is on more sure footing in the scenes at Candyland, largely thanks to Mr. DiCaprio’s effortless charm and a fine turn by Samuel L. Jackson (under some fantastic old man makeup) as Stephen, Candie’s head slave. Stephen, it turns out, is actually the most interesting character in the film and the whole third act turns on the keen observations of this loyal family servant.

Quentin Tarantino is a master at crafting plots that gradually build in tension and complexity, and for a while Django Unchained seems poised for some last unexpected turn to resolve Django and Schultz’s crafty bait-and-switch scheme. But instead, Mr. Tarantino opts for a lazier ending. In the final half-hour, the movie devolves into a gratuitous and numbingly uninventive bloodbath that cheapens everything that came before it.

Quentin Tarantino, usually such a smart writer, embraces all his worst impulses here. The violence is bloody and over-the-top but the final product resembles something a Tarantino imitator might have churned out – stylized and violent but devoid of anything thematically substantial.

The cast is also noticeably lacking in female roles. Sure, the worlds of Mr. Tarantino’s characters are typically male-dominated but he is usually good about writing at least a few strong women into his films. Kerry Washington, however, is relegated to playing the weeping damsel in distress and the other women in the film are little more than pretty faces.

And while no one expected this film to be racially sensitive, there is no doubt that a major point of contention for many will be Mr. Tarantino’s overuse of a particular racial slur. Granted, the movie’s historical context does allow him to use the word but it gets tossed around so frequently and with such relish, it’s distracting. It is easily the most said word in the film, which reduces the impact it might have had if uttered less often.

There are moments when Django Unchained clicks and might have held up as a solid, if not classic, Tarantino film. Mr. Tarantino’s comedic timing is still sharp and his love of dialogue is as apparent as ever. But the ending is such a disappointment it nearly ruins the whole movie. Though it pains me to say it, for the first time, Quentin Tarantino drops the dynamite and blows himself up.

- Steve Avigliano, 1/5/13

REVIEW: Les Misérables

Les Misérables (2012): Dir. Tom Hooper. Written by: William Nicholson, Alain Boubil, Claude-Michel Schönberg, Herbert Kretzmer. Based on the musical by: Alain Boubil and Claude-Michel Schönberg. Starring: Hugh Jackman, Russell Crowe, Anne Hathaway, Amanda Seyfried, Eddie Redmayne, Helena Bonham Carter, Sacha Baron Cohen, Samantha Banks, Isabelle Allen, Aaron Tveit and Daniel Huttlestone. Rated PG-13 (Hopes torn apart, dreams turned to shame). Running time: 158 minutes.

2 ½ stars (out of four)

For a big-budget, end-of-the-year musical spectacle, director Tom Hooper’s Les Misérables is surprisingly light on spectacle. The film indulges in its share of sweeping cityscape views and crowds of costumed extras but spends far more time on close-ups, especially during its performers’ solos.

It’s a technique used to particularly devastating effect in Anne Hathaway’s show-stopping first act number, “I Dreamed a Dream.” As she laments a dream long gone and faces the cruel reality of her life, tears stream down her face. We can hear the pain in her voice and see it too. It is the sort of jaw-dropping moment that freezes time and is the reason musical fans flock to movies like this one and their stage counterparts. Nothing else in the film matches its emotion.

Ms. Hathaway’s Fantine, a prostitute who sends money regularly to a daughter she never sees named Cosette (the sweet and very talented newcomer Isabelle Allen), is but a minor player in a large cast of miserable men and women in nineteenth century France. There is the story’s hero, Jean Valjean (Hugh Jackman, commanding the screen as always), a former slave who has spent half his life in bondage as punishment for stealing a loaf of bread. Valjean is given a new lease on life from a gracious and forgiving bishop (Colm Wilkinson) who catches Valjean taking silver from the church in the middle of the night.

Then there is the emotionally tortured Inspector Javert (Russell Crowe), a man wed to the law and desperately (even bizarrely) committed to catching Valjean, who has broken his parole, and seeing justice served. Mr. Crowe lends the role a certain sense of dignity and authority but, regrettably, is the weak link vocally in the cast. He doesn’t embarrass himself or anything but the disparity in talent is clear whenever he shares the screen with Broadway darling Hugh Jackman.

The themes in the film’s first half – justice, honor, duty, forgiveness – are well-suited to the grandeur and beauty of the songs, taken from the 1980s musical which was, in turn, based on the 1862 novel by Victor Hugo. But rather than painting on an huge canvas, where the pain and heartbreak of these characters might have gotten lost, Tom Hooper focuses closely on his actors.

There is a raw quality to the performances, which were recorded live on set. The actors’ expressions match their intonations, and the songs become intimate in a way they could never be on stage.

Despite his best efforts, however, Mr. Hooper cannot overcome the weaknesses of his source material. In the final act, the film leaps forward in time and is hijacked by a new generation of miserable people. Two young men, Marius (Eddie Redmayne) and Enjolras (Aaron Tveit), lead a revolution to overthrow the government, but Marius becomes distracted by a beautiful girl he sees in the marketplace – Cosette all grown up (a lovely Amanda Seyfried). Marius is so overcome with puppy love that he barely notices the girl next door, Éponine (Samantha Banks), who longs for his love and affection.

But the sting of unrequited love pales in comparison with what Valjean and Fantine had to endure. (OK, so he likes you but he doesn’t like you like you… Try being a slave! Or a prostitute! Kids these days have no perspective…) And speaking of Valjean, where is he in the last act? Why is he sidelined and not a major player in the revolution?

Even when the story falters, however, the movie looks great. Cinematographer Danny Cohen beautifully films production designer Eve Stewart’s sets, and though Tom Hooper resists overplaying the epic qualities of the movie, there is no mistaking the hugeness of the production. This is prime Oscar bait and no expense is spared.

Les Misérables is also bolstered by a strong ensemble cast, including a wonderful Sacha Baron Cohen as a pickpocketing innkeeper and Helena Bonham Carter as his wife and partner in crime. Watch too for that little scene-stealer Daniel Huttlestone as a young boy scampering through the gutters who assists the revolutionaries.

Now is probably a fair time to acknowledge that I’m not big on musicals like this. I’d be surprised if a fan of the stage show was disappointed but then, having never seen the original production myself, I have nothing to compare the film to. And at 158 minutes, boy, is this movie long. I’ll never say I didn’t get enough Les Mis for my money.

- Steve Avigliano, 1/5/13

REVIEW: The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (2012): Dir. Peter Jackson. Written by: Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens, Peter Jackson and Guillermo del Toro. Based on The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. Starring: Martin Freeman, Ian McKellen, Richard Armitage, Sylvester McCoy, James Nesbitt, Ken Stott, Cate Blanchett, Ian Holm, Christopher Lee, Hugo Weaving, Elijah Wood and Andy Serkis. Rated PG-13 (Goblin blood). Running time: 169 minutes.

3 stars (out of four)

Director Peter Jackson returns to Middle Earth with The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, an adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s charming and durable 1937 novel The Hobbit, and a prequel to The Lord of the Rings. Much like the Lord of the Rings movies, An Unexpected Journey is a rousing epic, a stirring human drama and a breathtaking advertisement for New Zealand tourism. Though not quite the sprawling masterpiece each of those earlier films is, this is an entertaining movie that occasionally reaches greatness and comes very close to being satisfying as a standalone film.

This is the first in a trilogy, however, so though our heroes have climbed mountains, crossed valleys, scuttled through untold numbers of underground passageways and fought many foes over the course of more than two-and-a-half hours, they have apparently only just begun.

We have already seen (and, if you are like me, committed to memory) the daring adventure of Frodo Baggins, a lowly hobbit from the small village of Hobbiton, who saved all of Middle Earth from certain doom with a little help from his friends. The Hobbit tells the story of his uncle, Bilbo Baggins, a fellow adventurer who embarked on his own journey some sixty years earlier. In a prologue that runs surprisingly long, we see an aged Bilbo (Ian Holm, reprising his role) sitting down to write his memoirs in his quaint hobbit hole while Frodo (Elijah Wood making a cameo appearance) peeps over his shoulder.

As the old Bilbo narrates, we see his younger self (played to perfection by Martin Freeman) being visited by the wizard Gandalf (a sublime Ian McKellen slipping back into the role) who asks him very kindly if he would like to go on an adventure. Bilbo scoffs at the suggestion. An adventure? He would like no part in that. Few things are more unpredictable and uncomfortable than adventures and he would much prefer to stay home and enjoy his supper.

But Gandalf, of course, has already decided for him. In a delightful sequence – and the highlight of the film – Bilbo is visited by not one, not two or seven, but thirteen dwarves. They raid his pantries, serve themselves a feast and make plans for a great quest. They seek to travel to the Lonely Mountain, once a stronghold of the dwarves, to reclaim their land and their treasure from a terrible dragon named Smaug. Gandalf has informed the dwarves that Bilbo is to be their burglar. Naturally, this upsets Bilbo very much.

Though The Lord of the Rings is rich with stories of revenge and loyalty, vices and virtues, I relate more closely with The Hobbit than with any part of that great saga. I see more than a little of myself in Bilbo Baggins and I sympathize with his reaction to all this excitement. I love an impromptu plan but I need to be coaxed into it. Left to my own devices I would probably stay at home most nights, likely watching The Lord of the Rings or wasting away the hours on something equally unsociable.

So I connect deeply to the story of a fellow homebody who is begrudgingly pushed out the door, gets into all kinds of messes and ultimately winds up having a good time. In Tolkien’s novel, that story is told from point of view of Bilbo, who is alternately awestruck, amused, frightened and exhausted by all this adventuring.

An Unexpected Journey, on the other hand, takes on a broader perspective. Written by Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh (Mr. Jackson’s wife), Philippa Boyens and Guillermo del Toro, the script finds time to chase tangents and develop backstories that flesh out the expansive world of Middle Earth and its history. We meet Radagast (Sylvester McCoy) an eccentric, animal-loving wizard who discovers something dark brewing in his beloved woods. Whispers spread that a dark sorcerer named the Necromancer is raising the dead.

We also learn about the dark past of Thorin Oakenshield (Richard Armitage), the dwarf leader of the expedition, who long ago tangled with the Pale Orc in battle and lost many loved ones to that foul creature’s sword. Though believed to be dead, the Pale Orc may in fact still be alive and looking to finish what he started.

There is a lot to absorb in this first movie and most of it is fascinating but the trouble with The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey is that it gets so caught up in the journey that it often forgets the hobbit. As expected, the action is superbly choreographed and the effects are stunning across the board. But poor Bilbo is sidelined for lengthy passages and the movie suffers as a result. His exclusion from many scenes is also unusual considering Bilbo himself is supposed to be telling this tale. I find it difficult to believe this adventurer would leave himself out of the main action of his own story.

As grand as Peter Jackson’s canvas is, the story needs Bilbo’s humble perspective to anchor it and give the audience someone to identify with. During more than one of the many battle scenes that transpire during the film’s ungainly 169 minutes, I found myself wishing I was cozying up in some corner of my hobbit hole – that is to say, my living room – underneath a warm blanket away from all this tiresome noise and commotion.

But when Bilbo does get screen time, as he does in his encounter with Gollum (Andy Serkis in another stellar motion-capture performance), the movie comes alive. Martin Freeman’s performance is the heart, soul and saving grace of the film. He is a gifted comic actor who wonderfully navigates the many hesitations, prejudices, preoccupations and contradictions of the cautious but brave hobbit. Ian McKellen, who still has the ability to turn a scene with a single look, is also an invaluable presence in the movie.

There are a number of pitch perfect moments when An Unexpected Journey captures the blissful whimsy of Tolkien’s novel. Just as often, however, this lighter side takes a backseat as Peter Jackson flexes his epic filmmaking muscles. By the time the credits rolled, I was plenty ready for a break from Middle Earth. That was more than enough adventure for one evening, thank you very much.

- Steve Avigliano, 12/15/12


On a side note, this movie is being shown in a number of different formats, including 3D and something called HFR (higher frame rate). The movie was filmed at 48 frames per second (twice as fast as the usual 24 fps) and if projected at that speed is supposed look more realistic.

I saw it in regular old 2D and enjoyed it but these websites were very helpful in making that decision. This one rates the 3D version and this one talks about the HFR version.

REVIEW: Killing Them Softly

Killing Them Softly (2012): Written and directed by Andrew Dominik. Based on the novel Cogan's Trade by George V. Higgens. Starring: Brad Pitt, Richard Jenkins, James Gandolfini, Ray Liotta, Scoot McNairy and Ben Mendelsohn. Rated R (Killings and robberies, and countless profane discussions about same). Running time: 97 minutes.

1 ½ stars (out of four)

I’m always in the mood to go to a diner and drink a cup of burnt coffee. It never runs me much more than a dollar, the waitress serves it on a saucer and, if you go to my diner, it comes with a small mountain of half-and-half packets served on a saucer of their very own. I can’t explain why but I just enjoy it.

I’m also always down to see a movie about small-time crooks, hit men and seedy jobs carried out for quick cash. These movies can also be about the cops who chase those crooks down and arrest them but they’re usually better if they’re not.

Killing Them Softly is one such movie about crooks. These particular crooks like to talk and they talk so much that there isn’t any room for the cops aside from a siren here and a “Hands behind your back” there. That’s fine by me; I happen to especially enjoy movies where the crooks talk more than they shoot.

Killing Them Softly was written and directed by Andrew Dominik, who also made the methodical and brooding western The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. He’s a man who likes his genres and he lavishes this particular genre film with a style that is alternately flashy and gritty.

In one moment he lingers on a shot of Brad Pitt, who plays a calm and collected hit man with slicked back hair and Aviator shades, exhaling a slow gust of cigarette smoke. The next moment, Mr. Dominik gets good and close to a pool of blood spilling out from a newly dead body and onto the blacktop of a parking lot. And at least once he slows down a kill shot so we can appreciate some splattering brain matter for all its disgusting beauty.

The last time I saw a genre movie this in love with itself was Nicholas Winding Refn’s Drive. That movie was a little too obsessed with its aesthetic pleasures – the 80’s synths, the sports cars, Ryan Gosling’s jawline – but was gorgeous enough that I didn’t object to the total irrelevance of its plot. Killing Them Softly isn’t nearly pretty enough to pull that trick off.

And Andrew Dominik isn’t nearly the master stylist he thinks he is. Come on, Andrew, you’re going to play “Heroin” while a junkie shoots up heroin? That’s amateur no matter which way you cut it.

Killing Them Softly is an insistently showy movie and its artsy experimentations get distracting. Notice that the film is set in the fall of 2008 amid the financial crisis. Clips of George W. Bush and Barack Obama are shown or heard in the background of practically every other scene, bluntly and needlessly reinforcing the desperate times its characters live in. Listen to the sound design (and believe me, the movie really wants you to listen to its sound design) and notice how laughter in the background of a bar scene is foregrounded at key moments in the dialogue. Well, I assume they were key moments. I kind of stopped paying attention.

The dialogue, by the way, is just as showy, relying too much on repetition and rhythm, and featuring little in the way of verbal ingenuity. It’s okay to let the characters gab on about whatever is on their mind but their conversations should crackle with life. The dialogue here circles around and around with dizzying tediousness.

And if talk is going to be a greater focus than action, the movie has to be willing to punch things up once in a while with a little energy and excitement. Killing Them Softly is only 97 minutes long but drags on at a glacial pace. I now have firsthand proof of Einstein’s theory of relativity.

There are a few spare moments in the film when things click and Mr. Dominik gets it right. Scenes between a pair of amateur criminals, Frankie (a wonderfully twitchy Scoot McNairy) and Russell (an equally fun Ben Mendelsohn, spaced out and looking truly awful as the aforementioned junkie), have a grungy giddiness to them and enliven the otherwise stale proceedings. Ray Liotta and James Gandolfini, meanwhile, are criminally underused and the movie completely wastes an appearance from the great Richard Jenkins, the current sitting King of Character Actors.

Brad Pitt lends the film as much of his charm and magnetism as he can muster but Killing Them Softly isn’t very interested in satisfying its audience with the thrills they expect from a movie like this. It’s too self-absorbed to cede any control to its star, preferring instead suck the wind out of a perfectly good tale of crime gone wrong by acting like an art film that is too good for its own material.

I can appreciate a crummy cup of joe as much as anyone but don’t serve me burnt coffee and call it a cappuccino.

- Steve Avigliano, 12/6/12