The Wolfman – A Review

“Even a man who is pure in heart and says his prayers by night, may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the autumn moon is bright.”

The idea of a re-make of the Universal Studios classic, The Wolfman, undoubtedly sounded better in the pitch meeting than it did in execution. Updating the story for modern times, with modern effects, and positioned as an anti-Valentine’s Day movie, starring two stars who are eminently watchable and elevate anything they’re in, it seemed like a sure bet. Yet we are left with this joyless cinematic whimper in moonlight.

The Wolfman sets itself up as the story of a prodigal son, Lawrence Talbot (Benecio Del Toro), who has returns to his father, Sir John Talbot (Anthony Hopkins), after the death of his brother, Ben Talbot (Simon Merrells). There is no fatted calf for his return, only blood, body parts, and the trappings of a mystery. The movie reminded me of a string of horror clichés strung together for two hours, a lesson in bad writing.

It begins with a violent opening scene meant to hook the audience. Opening scenes are meant to assure the audience that they are in good hands. A strong opening doesn’t have to mean an exciting bloodletting, it is just the promise of what’s in store (though, upon reflection, sadly, it delivers on what it promises in the opening. You basically get it for two hours). The movie then tells us the story rather than let it unfold—with heavy handed flashbacks which were the equivalent of narrative info dumps and at some points literally telling you what’s going on on-screen—and thus doesn’t give cast much to do.

Joe Johnston knows how to startle us with his jump cuts, but startle is as deep as the thrills get. There’s no escalating of tension, no depth of characterization to study, no layered plot to get lost in. There’s just the visceral [thrill] of chase, catch, kill. The music cues in the unlikely event that we missed anything, the aural equivalent of dripping blood on a book cover. At no point did this movie exactly go for subtle.

“There is no sin in killing a beast. Only a man. Where does one begin and the other end.” -Maleva (Geraldine Chaplin)

Werewolves are a classic horror trope. Similar to what we see with the creature Mr. Hyde, they are the monster, the beast, inside us. As lycanthropy is a disease passed from father to son, with echoes of Romans 6:6, we’re reminded that we have a corrupted self within us, a side, a nature, in us that we must tame, restrain, or kill. Still, we mustn’t let this view blind us to the fact that we were created in God’s image and instead teach us self-loathing.

“He can only be released by someone who loves him.” –Maleva

There was a man with two sons, both of whom he wanted to follow in his footsteps. The prodigal decided to live life on his own terms, while the other remained with his father. Soon, however, the road got rough and the prodigal ended up doing all sorts of things to survive, eventually hitting rock bottom. He realized that he had placed himself in that situation, prayed about it, and returned home. His father prepared a huge celebration for him in order to say “welcome home.” In other words, it is a story of ruin and reconciliation, a story of a spiritual journey.

“I have to save him … just tell me what to do.” –Gwen (Emily Blunt)

Whether we realize it or not, we’re all looking for a home where we could feel safe. A place of belonging and rest. Home. Ignoring the place of true love, combined with our need to fill our inner hole, causes us to look elsewhere. The deepest cravings of our hearts demands to be filled, enabling addictions. Our lostness makes us cling to different things to find (self) fulfillment. In God we have an invitation to intimacy, to a safe place to call home. We have a nearly instinctual resistance to him. Our independence, our need to control, prevents us from coming to our senses and falling to our knees. Unwilling to dare to let myself kneel down and be held by a loving God. To believe in the promise of forgiveness. Healing. Wholeness. Love redeems. Love reminds us of our true selves. Love sets us free. Love puts the old man, the beast within us, to death.

“If such things exist…then everything is.” –Gwen

The Wolfman proves to be a mishmash of themes with none truly explores [the movie sets us an examination of a clash of worldviews—the villagers are backwards and foolish (Christian), the gypsies superstitious and speak of curses (pagan), and the inspectors with their scientific method (modern) and does nothing with it]. Not that I need some heavy meditation on the human condition, but, frankly, that’s one of the points of the werewolf trope. Instead we get a visceral production of limbs, torsos, and intestines strewn all over the screen (heedless of the fact that increased graphic violence doesn’t create chills), that attempts to get by on loud, boo moments. There was a scene beginning with Lawrence’s time in an asylum that had potential for some true horror, but the producers squandered it. One measure of a werewolf movie is by their transformation scenes (one of many reasons An American Werewolf in London was so great). The Wolfman provides great ones that look especially painful. Other than that, we’re left with fast cuts, special effects, and stylishly costumed thespians with little to do beyond their three faces of tortured, anguished, or afraid. In a word: meh.

Snowmen – A Review

“The unending year of the snowmen”

DISCLAIMER: I saw an early version of this film. Final editing hadn’t been done.
Snowmen is a movie of good intentions. It is aimed squarely at the wholesome family fun crowd and makes no secret of it having warm fuzzies to impart and lessons to teach. And it barely escapes the orbit of feeling like an afterschool special.
“I don’t have to be remembered forever as the pathetic bald kid.” –Billy

Written and directed by Robert Kirbyson, 10-year-old Billy Kirkfield (Bobby Coleman) is convinced that he's dying from cancer. His baldness, a lingering effect of his treatment and constant reminder of his mortality has left his abandoned by all of his classmates except for his two best friends, Lucas Lamb (Christian Martyn), a plucky “pacifist” and recent Jamaican immigrant, Howard Garvey (Bobb'e J. Thompson). Billy is determined to by remembered, staging bigger and bigger stunt in order to make the history books. Of course there’s a journey of self-discovery as they conquer neighborhood bullies, unite a community, learn from/teach their parents lessons, and realize that fame isn't as important as family and friends.

“It’s like so super important, you’re like … wow.” –Lucas

The adults in their lives—Billy’s car salesman Dad (Ray Liotta), the Mayor, the school Principal—often prove to be largely insincere; more concerned with image, spin, appearances and publicity. Having formed a kind of Losers Club, where the social rejects have banded together. Billy wears the stigma and shame of being sick. It has infected his whole being, not just being tired of his condition, but allowing it to determine how he sees himself, how (he believes) others see him. It’s like letting a sin, a condition, a lie we’ve come to believe about ourselves, define us. And he is more than just his sickness.

“I gotta do something so that people don’t forget me.” –Billy

Part of our soul yearns for immortality. Sometimes, it’s an issue of our self-worth, wanting to show that our lives meant something and that we made a difference or mattered while we were here. So Billy begins to do things in order to be remembered, from hitting with snowballs, to getting on the news, to performing stunts. Thing is, as a relational being, not only do we find our meaning in our friendships and in our family, but our relationships have an eternal aspect to them. We can get caught up in wanting to do something big, something profound, only to realize that conquering the Kill Hills of our lives or even setting the world records wasn’t the point. As we go about our daily lives, we experience God moments, opportunities to create memories and touch other people’s lives. Where the doing the things that “matter” may be as simple as helping people through tough times and thus impacting the lives of lose around him. As we reflect on our life stories, when people talk about someone living, good life, it’s not what they think, but how they did it. Being a good friend leads to ripple effects and becomes truly profound.

“People do not like missing out on opportunities.” –Reggie Kirkfield

A lot of threads are woven into this movie: the need to defeat bullies, the building of snowmen, the will he/won’t he tension of Billy’s dying of cancer, Billy’s relationship with his father. The movie doesn’t balance them well as the various strands don’t quite come together. With so many messages being thrown at us, it diffuses the message of movie. And don’t get me wrong, we are beat nearly to death with the message stick. And because the movie makers are so focused on making sure their message came across, Snowmen ends up feeling treacly and earnest, but far from profound. One can hope that by the time of its final release, the movie will have been tightened up, with its jokes/humor punched up. Because it’s not a perfect movie, I’m letting the horrific Jamaican accent as well as the “comedy relief of the cute little ethnic child” thing pass.

How to Train Your Dragon – A Review

“The Dragon Whisperer”

DISCLAIMER: I viewed an early screening of this movie. Not all of the animation was completed in spots. That said, my capsule review is: boy + Vikings + dragons = WIN!!!

When you hear words like “computer animate” and “Vikings”, your first thought might be Beowulf. From DreamWorks Studio (Shrek, Madagascar, and Kung Fu Panda) comes How to Train Your Dragon. Based on the book by Cressida Cowell, the movie tells the story of Hiccup (Jay Baruchel), who doesn’t exactly fit in with the rest of his Viking tribe. Whereas they have what he demurely calls “stubbornness issues”, bred early on in the craft of warfare and dragon slaying, he meekly goes about failing at trying to live up to their expectations. His world is both really turned upside down and given direction when he encounters an oft-whispered about, but never encountered, Night Fury species of dragon; and has to challenge his fellow Viking to see things from an entirely new perspective.

The focus of the movie revolves around two relationships: Hiccup and his father, the Viking chieftain, Stoick the Vast (Gerard Butler, 300) and Hiccup and his dragon, Toothless. (Okay, three if you count Hiccup and Astrid (America Ferrera, Ugly Betty)).

“I need to make my mark.” –Hiccup

Our hero, point of view character, and narrator, Hiccup has a modern voice, full of snark and sarcasm that gets him through life. He wants little more than to do something with his less than ordinary life that will get him notice, status, and/or a date.

“I know what I was and I knew what I was meant to be.” –Stoick

Because he is such a laughing stock to his community, and a disappointment to his father, he is constantly told that to make his life, to find his true calling and purpose, he has to “stop being all of you”. It’s a frustrating lesson to be formed by, to be seen strictly in terms of potential or calling, yet offered little guidance to become what he’s meant to be. So much so, that it becomes easy to be afraid of being different. He also walks a line between longing to be accepted and having the courage to think differently, because his choices have the potential to cost him his family and community.

“It’s who I am, dad.” –Hiccup

How to best form others is the dilemma faced by parents and teachers. Stoick is no different. He struggles to find a way to talk to his son without the burden of expectation (the lessons learned from his own father, no doubt) believing that he knows who and what his son is meant to be. Just like he struggles to learn his son’s actual gifts and skills and personality and talents; appreciating him for who he is and his existence, not what he can do.

“I looked at him and I saw myself.” –Hiccup

While there seems to be no place for the non-conformers or those outside the mainstream, a benefit to Hiccup being so different is that it helps him to relate to those who are also different. His life had provided him with a skill set and lessons on how to reach out to others who find themselves on the fringe or outcast such as Toothless. Like the journey of the missionary, rather an initial missionary attempting to relate to an indigenous people on their terms, Hiccup had to learn to communicate without words. He had to walk, talk, and think like his new friend. By learn to communicate and being open to learn from one another, he found that he was able to appreciate The Other. Bring something new to the conversation in turn, he was able to show his people a new perspective and a new way of doing things. Allowing both of them to overcome all manner of handicaps, which becomes an important theme in the movie.

“Everything we know about you guys is wrong.” –Hiccup

As for the animation itself, the lush production work is apparent from the first minute of the film.
Its detailed work and great use of shadows added another layer to the movie. The animation proved superior even to the lavish setting of Kung Fu Panda. The aerial scenes of soaring dragons are breath taking, the combat scenes are fierce (say about the same as a The Incredibles level of intensity), and the movie maintains a snarky tone (say about the same a Shrek) yet manages to not be impressed with its own hipness. It’s wickedly funny, with fully realized characters (one in particular there to give some of us some Dungeons & Dragons gaming flashbacks). In the DreamWorks versus Pixar animation battles, usually DreamWorks gets the nod for cheekiness and being an enjoyable ride, while Pixar tends to have more heart and depth to their features. With How to Train Your Dragon, DreamWorks finally makes that leap to fully embrace both and will stand the test of time.

Ninja Assassin – A Review

As a quasi-professional movie reviewer, it is rare that I pay actual money to see a movie. Such occasions are reserved for movies that I want to experience, usually in the company of men. Real men watching a real men type movie. Enjoying the secret things that men do. Such a movie was Ninja Assassin (another such movie was The Hangover, but I saw that with my wife).

“Perhaps the path you’ve chose is not the path for which you are suited.” –Tattoo Artist

Hopes were high. We’re talking executive producers Andy and Larry Wachowski (The Matrix Trilogy) and director James McTeigue, the team who brought us V for Vendetta. The script was written by comic book scribe J. Michael Straczynski (Silver Surfer: Requiem, Thor, Strange, Squadron Supreme).

“It doesn’t make sense in a modern world.” –fbi boss

Ninja Assassin is slowed down by trying to have a raison d’etre for ninjas in a modern world. It’s like the movie experienced delusions of being an international thriller. Like we need a reason: they’re ninjas! It suffered from what I will call “the Hitman effect”: when an action movie decides to take itself seriously, so earnest and without humor rather than embrace its ridiculousness and being an enjoyable experience (like say, a Wanted or Crank). With their peppy mantra of “Weakness compels strength. Betrayal begets blood,” the problem with demythologizing or deconstructing the ninja is that it is reduced to being basically a movie about systematic child abuse by a cult.

Ironically, there was not enough … ninja-ing. In fact, at one point, our hero goes from ninja to Bruce Willis in Die Hard mode. The solo training sequences feel like action masturbation. The violence, once the movie gets going, becomes an excuse to hack limbs and sheer torsos. I’m good with violence for violence’s sake but this exercise in blood spraying was filled with some downright silly, poorly lit fight sequences. Not to mention relying entirely too much on CGI effects.

“All this loss, this waste because you put yourself before your family.” –father

All that being said, I can say that I learned a lot during the course of this movie:

1) It rains a lot in ninja world. Almost every ninja training school scene seemed to be mid-downpour.

2) Blood is red as Frank Miller’s ink well. It was splashed all over the place in ways I haven’t seen since Kung Fu theater.

3) Speaking of cost issues, for as intensive and expensive the training is to create one ninja, they sure have no problem sending a buttload of them into battle. Especially when …

4) You can still bust a cap in a ninja’s ass. This movie would have been a lot shorter if they’d just rolled in the military from the beginning.

5) A few gangs signs thrown work better than Mr. Miyagi’s hands (yeah … a Karate Kid reference. I went there) when it comes to healing injuries. But despite that …

6) Ninjas have keloid issues. At some point our hero ought to consult a plastic surgeon to take care of his scars.

7) Ninjas do not believe in recycling. This was a carefully observed lesson, but I remember from my days in junior high school (cause there was always “that” guy who had them, usually the one who whipped out his nunchuks in shop class), that Chinese stars are not cheap. Yet the ninjas in this movie were tossing them around like bullets in a John Woo flick.

“Every moment of your life is a gift.” –master ninja

And I bet you’re wondering what kind of spiritual musings I had while watching this movie. I suppose I could go on about how you must never forget who you are. Or how the path of the master is one of discipline and self-denial. Or how we must be careful about who our true fathers are and what voices we let speak into our lives. But in truth, the main thing I could think of was how different the New Testament would have read if Frank Miller re-wrote it. Cause you know what makes any story better? More ninjas.

“You were the son I was waiting for.” –father

Ninja Assassin didn’t deliver what the trailers promised, the cardinal sin of movie making. I didn’t even bother remembering or looking up the characters names of the actors/actresses who played them. What’s the point? The best any of its makers can hope is that this will do for kusara-gama (I think that’s what my Chinese star wasting friend from junior high shop class called that chain sickle thing … which of course he brought to class) what Bruce Lee flicks did for nunchuks. Or, maybe not. The last thing I need to do is come home to find my boys whipping their belts or dog leashes around at each other.

The Blind Side – A Review

The key phrase to keep in mind while watching The Blind Side is “based on a true story”. Directed, written by John Lee Hancock (The Rookie), the movie sprang from the book "The Blind Side: Evolution of a Game" by Michael Lewis. In this true story, Michael Oher was adopted by the Tuohy family, thrived in his new environment and currently plays for the Baltimore Ravens. As such, I won’t get to give my near obligatory commentary of this being like Diff’rent Strokes or Webster brought to the big screen. Truth be told, it’s a much better movie than that.

As a teenager, Michael Oher (Quinton Aaron) survives on his own, virtually homeless, when a feisty Memphis belle, Leigh Anne Tuohy (Sandra Bullock, executive producer of Crash thus no stranger to movies with racial themes as a backdrop), spots him on the street. On what seems like a whim, she invites him to stay at the Tuohy home for the night. Which becomes another night. Then another. Then they bring him into their family. The family helps him fulfill his potential even as he helps them discover things about themselves. The fact that this was based on a true story ameliorates the stretches of credulity.

“You have to ask yourself ‘Is this me?’” –Leigh

Michael Oher is an outsized, introverted teen from the poverty-stricken projects of Memphis with no academic record and a crack addict for a mother. Outcast, too big, too stupid, too poor, too black, he feels shame due to the system’s failure. Barely educated after years of neglect, Michael can scarcely speak, much less read. The school system had given up on him as he was passed along as someone else’s problem. Not a magical Negro by any stretch, he is, however, “the chosen one”, the lucky one, the one that makes it.

There’s a perception that the poor want to live as they do, where they are because they are lazy or as the result of their choices. The reality is that most want to transition out of the streets, but they were let down, if not abandoned, by the system. These are the forgotten, the invisible, “the least of these” that Christ often spoke about.

Often people will do something for the poor they encounter and are shocked that they didn’t get a drop to their knees cry of gratitude (the unspoken sentiment being “they should be grateful to get anything”). Forgetting that the poor are human beings, with pride and inherent worth. They don’t want to be anyone’s feel good project. They want what everyone wants: to be treated with respect and dignity; valued because they too were created in God’s image. So asking for a simple thing as having their name respected isn’t too much to ask. In the final analysis, all Michael needed was for people to believe and invest in him.

“Look at the wall. ‘Christian”. We either take that seriously or we paint over it.” –Coach Cotton (Ray McKinnon)

The question is “why do the Tuohys do it? What would make them take in this penniless stranger and make him a part of their lives? A desperate coach finagles a way for him to attend their private Christian school, but we know his motives. The Tuohys have a strong allegiance to Ole Miss, so they could just be boosters with a long term plan. Yes, there is a case that could be made that this movie is guilty of being a white liberal fantasy implying that poor, black folks need only have a hand up (or could only get by) with the help of some rich, well-intentioned white folks. But there’s not that “Oh, Lawdy, thank you” type undercurrent to this (and this not-so-veiled racism is addressed when Leigh confronts some of her well-to-do-friends). The central theme is about the need to invest in people and create family; about how to open up your home and lives to take in “the least of these.”

There’s a cost to discipling or mentoring others. You pour in your time, energy, emotional resources, often at the sacrifice of time and energy from your family or friends or other responsibilities. Partly because at the end of the day you want to know that you’ve made a difference and that people are better off from having encountered and shared life with you.

Jesus set the example, having led by serving. He saw needs--physical, emotional, or spiritual--met them, and THEN spoke. It was more important for him to walk alongside his disciples and pour himself into their lives—getting a towel and washing the feet of those who walked beside him—rather than isolate himself. Even knowing that some would deny or betray him later.

“This team is your family.” –Leigh

Hollywood knows what stories to base their movies on as it seems content to tell the same type of story over and over again. Despite sticking to the expected inspirational sports-movie/fish-out-of-water conventions, The Blind Side nevertheless proves to be an affecting movie. It’s more a heartwarming movie about what it means to build, become, and protect family than a football movie.

Aaron portrays Michael Oher as emotionally vulnerable, not an idiot savant with an eyes downcast performance which is all the script asks him to do. Only near the end do we get a sense of Oher the man and what goes on inside his head. It’s almost as if the film, as well as many of the characters in the movie, never get around to asking “what do you think?”

Bullock gives Leigh sass, iron-will and unabashed sentiment* while Tim McGraw is marvelous as her supportive, somewhat long suffering husband. S.J. Tuohy (Jae Head) nearly steals the movie with his humor and mugging-for-dollars cuteness. Involving, affecting and, for the most part, emotionally honest, The Blind Side is a touching depiction of what can happen when some reach out to “the least of these.” And the movie made my wife tear up on at least three occasions, which she thought I didn’t notice. Also a true story.




*The record should also reflect that at no point in this review was Bullock’s performance described as a “hoot.”

Zombieland – A Review

“Time to nut up or shut up”

Zombies continue to be hot. The current boom in zombiephilia may have some of its roots in the literary realm, from the horror of Brian Keene’s The Rising to the comic ridiculousness of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. They have had a parallel surge in film, from the “fast zombies” of 28 Days Later again to the comedy of Shaun of the Dead. Zombieland is very much in the comedic tradition.

The movie review in a sentence: Zombieland delivers on what the trailer promises. Opening with the image of Earth turned into a vision of Apokalips (a present to us comic book geeks) due to a virus, we are introduced to our hero, Columbus. He’s a neurotic, over-cautious, nerd (Jesse Eisenberg, Adventureland, The Squid and the Whale) who has managed to survive due to being a loner as well as by the system of rules he created.

“I’ve always been a bit of a loner.” –Columbus

As he longs to return to Columbus, Ohio to find his family, he comes across Tallahassee (an exuberant Woody Harrelson) who prefers to go by place names, because real ones get you too emotionally attached. The loss he suffered in the post-human reality has transformed Tallahassee into a road warrior who revels in taking out zombies in the most brutal and creative ways possible.

The pair, who gradually come to, at least not annoy each other completely, are completely flummoxed and bamboozled by two young sisters, Wichita (Emma Stone, Superbad) and 12 year old Little Rock (Abigail Breslin, My Sister’s Keeper), in apparent distress.

“When you’re afraid of everything out there, you quit going out there.” –Columbus

Columbus found a lot of things disturbing, from people to clowns, becoming a paranoid shut in. Except part of him still longed to be a part of a family. Columbus treated people like zombies to be avoided even before they were flesh eating monsters. The plague of the 21st century has reduced people to a hateful, violent case of the munchies.

“Without other people you might as well be a zombie.” –Columbus

Zombies are the ideal monsters, perfect to illustrate our dehumanization. These creatures portray a resurrection to walking death. A similar metaphor is found in the case of Frankenstein and the curse of the Mummy. They are the living dead, with no hope, only the eternal existence in a “body of death” (Romans 7:24). They are particular reminders that there are worse things than death.

Storytelling wise, there is nothing present in these monsters to imprint a character on. They are relentless aggression, hunger, and need. So the story has to be about the “humans” surviving. On the flip side, you can do anything you want to them, revel in the brutality of the kills without guilt, because they aren’t human only animated desire. They aren’t even alive.

Like in the movie Slither, this virus like the nature of sin, is an infection that spreads and grows almost like a conscious disease. Because of the introduction of sin, the created order is disrupted, neither humanity (once infected with sin) nor creation are as they are meant to be. This virus transforms us, our way of life, our way of prioritizing what is important, our ways of thinking and going about life. Rage, fear, and insatiable desire seeking to be quenched only leads to a spiral of death.

“I don’t know what’s more tragic: that I have no family or that I didn’t have much of a family to begin with.” –Columbus

Columbus, even Witchita and Little Rock, all want to head home, be it Columbus or Pacific Playland (an amusement park they believe is zombie free). They want a sense of family and their hope is to find their way home. And while they do whatever it takes to survive, life can’t just be about survival. It has to be about living. The solution is relational, as they try to be with whatever family they can carve out.

“I hope you find whoever it is you’re looking for.” –Wichita

Despite having nowhere else to go, they can’t find what they want, not knowing their way home. They are surrounded by the really sick, with the dehumanizing spiral reducing people to relentless aggression and hunger and insatiable need. We’re defined by the world and the loud voices who want us to buy into lies about ourselves. If we’re hurting and chase a high to numb ourselves from the pain or feel a sense of peace, we’re unable to full experience life. And these have inner consequences as we end up running further and further away from home and the less we’re able to hear the voice of the one who loves and speaks love to us.

Whether we realize it or not, we’re all looking for a home where we could feel safe. A place of belonging and rest. Home. In God we have an invitation to intimacy, to a safe place to call home. God has made His home, a place for us to return to, a place He calls us to.

“I wasn’t the only one running from something.” –Columbus

Horror and humor are a delicate balance, with one of the best examples being the Evil Dead movies. Screenwriters Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick have written for Spike and MTV and get by on the kind of snarky banter and self-referential pop cultural allusions seen on Gilmore Girls. This was the debut feature for director Ruben Fleischer and the movie gets style points for its wonderful videogame-esque violence. I loved Zombieland, though now it has me worried that H1N1 may turn my kids into intestine munching fiends ... though that would explain a lot.

American Son – A Review

Many movies have tried to offer commentary on the Iraq war and have failed tremendously at the box office. From Paul Haggis' In the Valley of Elah and the Reese Witherspoon vehicle Rendition, these movies have struggled to find an audience. It may be fatigue, not wanting to “escape” by watching such movies, or it may be simply a matter of not wanting to be lectured to. So hopes were not high for American Son.

Coming home to life in Bakersfield after coming back from Camp Pendleton and Marine boot camp, 19 year old Mike Holland (Nick Cannon) re-examines his life and relationships. To be honest, the idea of Nick Cannon in a serious role might be cause for skepticism (although he has really grown on me since becoming the host of America’s Got Talent. Yeah, I said it.). Armed with a powerful, honest screenplay by first-timer Eric Schmid, he exudes a confident charm and a sly humor.

“Live it up, my man. It’s all gone so fast.” –Dad (Chi McBride)

American Son explores the familiar territory of how we can’t go home again (even apparently after a few months … if nothing has changed but you have), dealing with family and the possibility of a new relationship, on the eve of being shipped off to war. The reality of his mortality driven home by this fact, Mike looks at his life in a new way. Grasping on to what is important while clinging to his responsibilities and duties.

“Tell you the truth, I’d much rather be over there facing that shit than wasting away life everybody else.” –Mike

With 96 hours until he ships out, regular inter-titles count down the hours until his departure, he has to come to terms with his life. He wanted to test himself and seek out new opportunities, but he still has to deal with the realities of his life: his younger sister (Erica Gluck) who idolizes him, his religious mother (April Grace), his drug addict brother, his stoic-to-the-point-of-stone stepdad (Tom Sizemore), and his brief reunion with his estranged father (a steller, yet understated, performance by Chi McBride).

Subtle commentary on race … by not commenting on race. Our lead hero is black, his best friend Jake (Matt O'Leary) is white, and his girlfriend Cristina (Melonie Diaz) is Hispanic. The movie proceeds as if that’s the norm/not unusual and respects its audience enough to not feel the need to point it out. It gets its point across through performances, like the polite distrust of Cristina’s family when they first meet Mike.

“Why does it have to be you?” –Mom

No one wants him to go off to war. They want him to stay safe, with them. Mike’s mother knows all she can do is pray for her son. We have a natural sense of God as our protector and desire to seek His protection. We want His protection, especially in light of the fact that we can’t protect one another. When bad things happen, it’s like we long for God to step in, in a more direct way, and control things. We don’t ask such things when things are going “okay” (or as we’re making our own bad decisions). It’s like we want a “sovereign” God when it’s convenient.

We can live in a state of freedom in life, having a state of peace, faith, and confidence stemming from the assurance that we have in Christ Jesus. OR, we can continue on our own way, left to our own devices, with fear, doubt, and insecurity, trapped in a cycle of spiritual death. This assurance springs from faith in God as the ultimate protector, that sense that He is the ultimate, faithful judge.

“Whatever you’re doing, where do you think it’s going to take you?” –Mike

American Son makes for a mildly compelling, though wholly melodramatic, movie. While a personal movie looking at the life of a soldier about to be shipped off to Iraq, it has its share of dropped and unresolved storylines which didn’t make for the most satisfying of endings. Well-acted and without a political dimension, this movie is just a portrait of a man off to war: somebody’s son, somebody’s brother, somebody’s friend, somebody’s boyfriend. So maybe it can find its audience on DVD.

Precious: Based on the Novel 'Push' by Sapphire – A Review

Adapted by Damien Paul from the work by former Harlem teacher and poet Sapphire, Precious: Based on the Novel 'Push' by Sapphire is a nightmare brought to life, both harrowing and unsparing, yet courageous and hope-filled. Easily one of the most powerful and devastating movies of the year, the movie is as uncompromising as its eponymous heroine. Gabourey "Gabby" Sidibe as Claireece "Precious" Jones and Mo'Nique as her mother, Mary provide two standout performances. Mo’Nique’s portrayal is utterly terrifying. Sidibe totally inhabits her character, providing a characters the audience roots for to get out of her situation and to succeed.

“Everyday I tell myself something’s going to happen … someone’s going to break through to me.” –Precious

Dark black, overweight, 16 years old, pregnant with second child (both by her father), in junior high school, can barely read, Precious has been told she was stupid and worthless her entire life. Academic tests paint a picture of her being stupid and goes to the lie her mother had been spoon-feeding her. She daydreams of a light-skinned boyfriend, wishing to be a white blonde girl, negating her sense of self, believing such a life would be better. And her unrelenting circumstances propel the narrative of the movie.

“That’s why God made new days.” –Precious

Precious lives in all too common conditions: limited opportunity, limited education and extreme poverty; and too often, a “get over” by any means necessary lifestyle. Physically, sexually, and emotionally abused from an early age, she has built walls around her as she wears her angry scowl, hard shell, and attitude like a mask to get her through life. The masks have become part of her in order to interact with others and the world. Without realizing it, she became trapped by false ideas of herself. These lies of who she is and how she sees herself started developing when she was young, a part of how her family shaped her.

Precious has bought into so many lies about herself, she doesn’t realize the true beauty she is. The tragedy is that beauty is so often determined from the outside. She finds herself consciously or unconsciously asking “Do you see beauty in me? Am I worth another glance?”

After 16 years of life, she finally finds some people who believes in and love her: her teacher, Ms. Rain (Paula Patton); the nurse’s aide who attended the birth of her second child, Nurse John (Lenny Kravitz); and her social worker, Ms. Weiss (Mariah Carey, speaking of acting revelations, she amazes with her performance). Having people who believe in her, she’s able to begin to challenge the lies and thinking her mother instilled, such as how school “ain’t gonna help none” and how Precious ought to take her “ass to the welfare office”. But this was only the beginning of her journey to change.

“Alternative school. It’s like a choice. An alternative way of doing things.”

Besides attending an alternative school, she eventually has to change the setting of her life, moving into a halfway house. The picture of the halfway house is quite telling: halfway between her old life and where she wants to be. At the same time, knowing she can’t stay there, she has to keep moving forward.

The other important step in changing who she is and how she saw herself is realizing the truth of her name. She is a precious creation of God. Precious. Someone who needs to not only accept herself, but also accept the truth of herself; that she is an eikon, an image-bearer of God; worthy of respect, value, and love.

We were created in love, for love, and are to open ourselves to the possibility of love. We all need to draw on the love already in our lives and embrace the love while finding freedom and empowerment in it to love and be loved.

“You can’t handle this.” –Precious

The movie maintains its steady footing in the real world, with director Lee Daniels using Precious' fantasies as relief valves from the steady stream of dire circumstances. Poignant, despairing, hopeful, Precious: Based on the Novel 'Push' by Sapphire is a tough movie to watch, leaving the audience emotionally drained. But the experience can be summed up in the movie’s tagline: “Life is hard. Life is short. Life is painful. Life is rich. Life is ... Precious.”

Inglourious Basterds – A Review

“Once upon a time … in Nazi-occupied France …”

With that, the revenge fantasy known as Inglourious Basterds begins its rollicking romp across the silver screen. A wildly re-imagined take on World War II, with a healthy dose of being a Dirty Dozen throwback, the movie builds to a tale of how the movies help end the war. Quentin Tarantino (Grindhouse) plays once more in his familiar palette of a deep knowledge of genre movies and a love of pop culture. From the previews, we know that eight Jewish-American soldiers, led by Brad Pitt's Tennessee-twanging Lt. Aldo Raine, are off to kill some Nazis. Yet that doesn’t do service to the sprawling storyline of the movie.

“Let’s discuss the prospect of ending the war tonight.” –Landa

Inglourious Basterds is divided into five "chapters" and has a Sergio Leone, spaghetti western vibe to it. From the opening sequence, the notorious Nazi "Jew Hunter" Col. Hans Landa (Christoph Waltz), who even in asking for a glass of milk manages to both charm and terrorize, sets the precedent of wrestling this movie from Brad Pitt. When either is on the screen, the movie takes on an entirely lively bounce.

In the less compelling, but thematically important, storyline, a member of a Jewish family, Shosanna (Melanie Laurent), survives one of Landa’s massacres and comes to own a cinema. She endures the unwelcome advances of Nazi war hero Frederick Zoller (Daniel Bruhl), who is in Paris for the red carpet roll out of the biopic of his wartime exploits, “Nation’s Pride” (in which he also stars). She then has to suffer the company of the infamous Nazi propagandist, Dr. Goebbels (Sylvester Groth) as her cinema becomes the site of the film screening and host to the Nazi Party top leadership. A party Pitt and company also plan on crashing. Mayhem ensues.

“What shall the history books read?” –Landa

Inglourious Basterds revolves around the power of story, especially cinematic story, to twist or write new stories. Such propaganda, of which Goebbels was a master, succeeded in turning one’s enemies into something less than human, thus making it easy to be inhumane to them. War becomes about the loss of humanity rather than being what we were created to be.

Every person has a story to tell and is the sum of their stories. People groups, be they Jew or Nazi, can be defined by their shared story, a story that defines and continues to form them. When stories are reduced to caricature, dogma, or animal imagery, their vitality is drained. When people no longer tell or listen to others’ stories, they become locked in their provincial mindset, cultural ghettos of their own making. And when people become so removed from another’s story, they may become compelled to destroy those (other’s) stories for those other stories become a threat.

“I think this might just be my masterpiece.” –Aldo

One might walk into Inglourious Basterds expecting a Nazi kill fest, but this is a much quieter film than advertised. That said, Tarantino wields violence like a scalpel in the hands of a master surgeon, with violence so brutal, shocking, and disturbing that the audience winced. The highlight of the movie was easily the basement tavern scene, featuring crisp Tarantino dialogue, tension, and a brutally bloody climax. No doubt, more of this kind of sequence was what the bulk of the audience came to see.

Then again, the kind of continual violence one might have expected to see was screened by the Germans (or rather, satirized by Tarantino) in “Nation’s Pride”. The movie-within-a-movie revolves simply around the killing of three hundred men (300!) and serves as a commentary on both our movies and our culture of violence, including the audience cheering every ridiculous kill shot.

There are long stretches of quiet in Tarantino films which can be taken as one of two ways: it allows for a more thoughtful meditation on war; or the movie becomes bogged down in its mild indulgences, caught up in the cool of being a Tarantino film, as he gives into his love of the sound of his own dialogue. The audience is expected to forgive the sometimes protracted, overly drawn out dialogue scenes as they almost inevitably lead up to lethal moments. The best scenes build on escalating tension, with the palpable tension present like an unbilled character, because when it explodes, there is a blood rain all over again.

Inglourious Basterds isn’t Tarantino’s best work, falling just behind Kill Bill, Pulp Fiction, and Reservoir Dogs. Like with Jackie Brown, this movie could have been trimmed down by nearly a half hour and make for a better, tauter film.

Ponyo - A Review

“The Adventures of Little Jesus”

Hayao Miyazaki’s latest animated epic, Ponyo (aka “Ponyo on the Cliff by the Sea”) hits the eye with what at first brush seems to be crude animation. Owing nothing to CGI, and coming after trailers for lush 3-D productions did the movie no favors. However, one quickly settles into the imaginative world we’ve come to expect from him. The voice talent assembled alone (Cate Blanchett, Betty White, Cloris Leachman, Tina Fey)points to the draw of a Miyazaki production .

This tale of a magical undersea creature (Ponyo), caught up in our pollution, discovering humanity (in her case, a little boy named Susuke), and longing to be human smacks of an enchanted take on The Little Mermaid, replacing show tunes with a highly imaginative world. Like with many of his tales of childhood wonder, the adults are complicated, reckless and scary. Sosuke’s mom drives like she stole something and is quick to let her son stay by himself. Ponyo’s dad, in his smothering over-protection, comes off as threatening and creepy.

Miyazaki is a fan of the torn between two worlds theme (subtlely driven home with Ponyo’s mom asking Susuke “Could you love her if she moved between two worlds?”). Because of the allegory it is focused on exploring, the movie comes across like an animated version of Lady in the Water.

“If you could only remain innocent and pure forever.” –Ponyo’s dad

The story begins with Ponyo’s dad, formerly human, longing for a return to the Cambrian Age, what he considers our Golden Era, his idea of the Garden of Eden. He struggles with what many parents struggle with, wanting to protect their children from the world, keeping them in the palm of his hand or in a bubble. Yet dealing with them is akin to handling a wet bar of soap: you want to keep them in your hand, but the best way to do so is in a loose grip because the harder you hold onto them the more likely they will just squeeze out. It’s the tension that parents have to walk with their children. Letting our children escape our firm, controlled grips and allow them to go their own way. By holding on to them too tight, we don’t allow them to grow. You can’t teach your children from a place of fear because it only teaches them to be in a safe box, unprepared for the world. However, Ponyo’s story follows a much more messianic path.

“What do you know about humans?” –Ponyo’s dad

Going off on her own, Ponyo, a fish with a little face and red dress, discovers humanity, being rescued by 5-year-old Sosuke who lives on a cliff above the ocean and promises to protect her always. Though both human and magic, Ponyo wants to be fully human, though her first Pinocchio-esque efforts result in her sprouting chicken-like legs. Ultimately though, being fully human means to participate in the story, embracing all aspects of life, but living with the goal of loving everyone and everything with holiness and imagination. She “lowers” herself by coming into the mess humans have made of creation. She “opens a hole in the fabric of reality” by her very presence, bringing the magic with her and joining together two realities. Uniting and reconciling her transcendent realm and our world, she delights in her/our humanity with wonder of a child, learning what it means to be human.

“I found Sosuke.” –Ponyo

Ponyo rejoices in the idea of her relationship with Sosuke. Her and the host of her fellow sisters (like ministering angels) revel each time a person is found, either her finding them or them finding her. Her love not forced but delighted in. As Ponyo’s mom explains to Sosuke, “she needs you to accept and love her as she truly is.” And once he does, “life begins again” (Ponyo’s mom)

But it’s not an easy journey. Storms, tsunamis, may come. Rains come down, floods rise up, winds may blow in … sometimes God sends the storms. Sometimes storms are sent to re-direct, to chasten, disciple, and develop. Sometimes storms close one door while opening another. And it’s hard to hear God in the storm even though God is with us the whole time. He remembers us, even when we think—we’re convinced—that he’s forgotten us. (Like Jesus with his disciples, Ponyo manages to fall asleep during the storm). But the storms eventually recede.

In becoming human for humanity’s sake, Ponyo offers up an example of a new way of living. Through her , her sisters made into new creations, she brings regeneration and healing (to the seniors), and the balance of nature is restored.

“Life is mysterious and amazing. But we have work to do now.” –Sosuke’s mom

Becoming fully human should impact how we work, how we play, and how we relate to one another; finding our redemptive mission in continuing the work He began to reconcile all of creation to God. That relationship between us and God should translate into a sense of mission. Ponyo gives Sosuke a sense of mission to find and take care of others; worried about the “least of these,” widows, orphans, or in their case, the seniors. Sosuke’s mom offers this beautiful picture of what the church should be about: “Right now our house is a beacon in the storm.”

“Will you hold the light?” –Sosuke’s mom

Ponyo doesn’t quite have the sense of constant adventure of a Finding Nemo or a Spirited Away. And instead of his traditional exuberant flying scene, Miyazaki gives us plenty of surfing on water sequences. There is a manic, child-like energy to the movie. And at least pet stores don’t have to worry about stocking Ponyo fish.

My Sister’s Keeper – A Review

“A Rain of Tears Under a Piece of Blue Sky”

Directed by Nick Cassavetes (The Notebook), Jodi Picoult's dense and melodramatic 2004 novel about a family struggling to save a terminally ill child comes to tear duct exhausted life on the big screen. Brian and Sara Fitzgerald (Jason Patric and Cameron Diaz) customized their second daughter, Anna (Abigail Breslin), in utero to be a perfect biological match for her sister Kate (Sofia Vassilieva), who was diagnosed with leukemia at an early age.

With each of Kate’s relapses, Anna’s parents drag her to the hospital to harvest her blood, lymphocytes, granulocytes, and bone marrow. With the final relapse, she’s asked to cough up a kidney. So she takes her life savings and hires a lawyer (Alec Baldwin) asking to be medically emancipated from her parents

The Fitzgerald family and movie itself wrestle with unanswerable moral questions from can parents force their child to become an organ donor for a fatally ill sibling? to the meaning behind such tragedy and pain? And the audience is left wondering how will the family heal from not just the ravages of the disease, but also the splits caused by the courtroom battle.

The movie mixes some interesting POV jumping interwoven with flashback sequences which sort of confuses the narrative at the beginning until the viewer gets used to the rhythm of the movie. A counterintuitive choice, Cameron Diaz desperately tries to act her butt off as Sara Fitzgerald, playing a mother who had basically quit her life (as a lawyer) in order to fully care for her stricken daughter. And despite the height of melodrama, we buy her performance despite how shrill she gets in her more overprotective moments.

“At any moment, our whole world could come tumbling down.” –Brian

It’s easy to dismiss events as “life is life, death is death, and no one understands either” though we try to find meaning in both. Even in the living, prolonged sickness can have various effects on a family. Among the many possible emotions it can elicit, it can make you hard, weary, battle hardened. It can produce resentments and reveal cracks in your life. There can be such a black hole of need within the family, in this case Kate, others can get over looked: Jesse’s dyslexia or Anna not necessarily wanting to be an organ donor.

“My whole life is a pain.” –Kate

We’re only here for a finite period of time. The stark reality of our lives is that we’re all going to die we just never know when. Be it by disease, accident, age, or random crime, death adds gravitas to life. By thinking about death, we focus on what’s important in the time we have. It causes us to re-prioritize and make us realize what is really important. Yet in the living, we have to find a way to feel and navigate the pain of life in a fallen world without numbing ourselves from it.

“Most babies are coincidences … I was engineered. Born for a particular reason.” –Anna

Anna is essentially a donor child, conceived to be spare parts for her sister. In some ways, she’s no different than any of us. We’re all donor children, here for one another. Rather than being genetic saviors, we’re relational saviors. We’re more than just accidents to one another. People aren’t an interruption of our lives, they are the reason for our living. The things and people that interrupt us are the reason why we’re here. We’re God interruptions: the interruptions are the point of life. We DO have a choice: we choose to be donors of our time, resources, and emotions.

Family and friendships are a blessing from God, opportunities to both share and receive His love through another. We must live in the midst of a caring community. Love must be shared. Life must be shared: taking care of one another, spending time with one another, fighting our battles for one another, taking care of one another, and building each other up. All relationships have a measure of inherent risk to them and we have to be willing to risk being vulnerable.

“Once upon a time I thought I was put on this earth to save my sister … that that wasn’t the point. The point was that I had a sister.” –Anna

My Sister’s Keeper avoids being overly manipulative, but the word subtle is not in the movie’s vocabulary. Between the family angst, courtroom drama, and the story of terminal illness ripped from the heart of every other Lifetime movie, it creates a jumbled stew of tonal unevenness which almost can’t be helped. Also, the movie pulls no punches in showing the reality of a disease eating away at a body as well as the toll of caring for the sick and dying, driving home the human condition (read: Nothing says tear jerker movie like copious buckets of vomit). Its saving grace, though probably adding to the tonal unevenness is how leavened with a gentle humor the movie is.

It’s an interesting counter program against the launch of Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen this weekend.

Warning to my sister: yeah, you will cry through this whole thing.

The Hangover – A Review

“Fellowship of the Strippers”

Finally, a raucous, raunchy comedy in the grand tradition of Porky’s, Anchorman, and director Todd Phillips’ previous efforts, Old School and Road Trip (and I’d say There’s Something About Mary, but I always found it over-rated as a comedy). Rife with funny dialogue with plenty of memorable one-liners, its flashback structure adds a sense of intrigue to what could have been a rather pedestrian movie.

We have the four stooges, Doug (Justin Bartha), due to get married in 48 hours, along with his two best friends, school teacher Phil (Bradley Cooper), and “just a dentist” Stu (Ed Helms), along with Doug’s soon to be brother-in-law, the not quite right in the head Alan (Zach Galifianakis). They perform that most ancient of rites, the bachelor party, in Las Vegas, in search of a night they won’t forget. They promptly have such a good time, they can’t remember a minute of it.

“Can’t you see the fun part of anything?” –Phil
The inherent mystery of their lost night, as they retrace their steps, figuring out where they went wrong, how they went so far astray, and figure out where they go from here. After all, such are the deep philosophical questions that naturally accompany a night of marrying strippers, naked Asian men popping out of car trunks, missing teeth, awkwardly walking chickens, Mike Tyson’s tiger in the bathroom, hospital visits, furniture still smoking, and finding a baby in the closet.

“Are you happy?” –Phil

So I’m sitting at my computer wondering if there’s a spiritual connection that I can make to this movie (cause I managed to find one for Borat and Slither). The “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” credo flies in the face of the reality of the fact that sin/secrets have a way of finding you out and following you home ... nope … that’s not going to work.

Friendship is best defined during times of adversity. It’s easy to be friends when things are going easy. Sunshine friendships. It’s when you have to walk through each other’s messes, even self-created messes, telling each other hard truths, that you can figure out who your real friends are.

We long for such friendships, sometimes believing ourselves to be “a wolf pack of one”, unloved, unlovable, and unworthy of being loved. Yet we’re wired for relationships, we want to be known. We desperately desire our wolf pack of one becomes a wolf pack of four, to find “the three best friends that anyone could have”.

Life constantly presents opportunities for us to love and to learn to love better. Difficult circumstances can cause relationships to dig deeper, driving each other to get to know one another on more significant levels. And there is a spiritual point to it all. Our friendships, limited, temporary, and transitional as they are, are meant to drive us to a higher friendship. If only to prove that we can’t live without love. Even the loneliness, the grief, the deficiencies of friendship prepare us for something more permanent, more eternal. We were made for higher companionship, an infinite hole within us that can only be filled with the Infinite. A love that does not pass away.

That’s as good as I’m getting.

“Just get me home.” –Doug

The Hangover, this ode to irresponsible behavior, basically finds boys masquerading as men, re-living their college days in a night fueled by alcohol, debauchery, and boobs. It pretty much delivers exactly what it promises: big laughs wrung from a whole lot of wrong. The entire movie pays off in laughs, one ridiculous moment following the next. The humor is unapologetically raunchy (the closing photograph montage being a fitting closing argument for that case). Though I did leave the theater wondering what was up with the chickens.

Away We Go - A Review

“Are we f--- ups?”

Away We Go is an episodic dramedy about a couple, Burt Farlander (John Krasinski, The Office) and Verona De Tessant (Maya Rudolph, Saturday Night Live), on the verge of parenthood, drifting through life in a search for a place to call home. It’s half a road movie as they are on a journey of family. They leave their rural Colorado home (where his parents live) in a quest for the best place to begin their family. So they travel to cities where they have anything resembling a connection, from Phoenix to Tucson to Montreal to Miami, encountering different shades of domestic hell. For a couple of self-described f-ups, they certainly have enough money to travel quite a bit.

Krasinski plays a variation of his character from The Office and Rudolph brings a considerable measure of charm as they bring their characters to life. They are the normal painted against the backdrop of characters filling out portraits of bad marriages, worse parenting, and fractured adulthood. If these characters were my example of marital and familial bliss, I’d swear off getting married, too.

“We are completely untethered, Burt.” –Verona

They are completely uprooted as people, starting with their own immaturity. They “don’t even have the basic things figured out, like how to live.” They want to be taken seriously as adults yet are trying to figure out how to be adults. They and their circle are twenty/thirty something teenagers, people who are emotionally in their teens but in big people’s bodies. Who carry their high school attitudes and personas long into adulthood. Who wait longer to grow up, get through school, move out, become independent. Who drift through life, unfocused, going from job to job, without a care or responsibility in the world. With no character defining rite of passage, they find themselves ready to bring a child into the world and making a family.

“I hate that attitude: everything’s already broken so let’s just keep breaking them again and again.” –Verona

Yet, they also aren’t as far behind as they think they are. They wrestle with their expectations and dreams for kids. They seriously think through the relationships in their lives (and who they want to model themselves after) and give serious consideration to the voices they want to not only speak into their lives, but also their child’s life. Yes, many of their surrounding relationships are broken and they are well aware of how their parents define them. But they recognize the patterns and which cycles need to be broken.

Despite being “stunted, confused, immature”, they know that what binds it all together—the glue, the mortar, the syrup of relationships—is love. It’s what binds us as people, as families, and what makes a home. As well as the patience required, as we have to be willing to make the family out of whatever you have.

“It’s like God’s trying to melt us down to make something better.” –Burt

Away We Go won’t go over well with the strictly Family Values set, as Verona refuses to consider getting married. It has a Sideways/strong indie film vibe to it. Both sweet and funny—surprisingly funny—it also has a realness and rawness to it. The characters tread that line of being eccentric without being over the top. It is a celebration of family, the true value and meaning of family, though in an untraditional manner, and is a pleasant journey for the audience to take.

S. Darko – A Review

It’s difficult to make sequels of certain movies, especially movies which don’t need a sequel. Movies that had their own magic, where everything came together to create a special moment, for example, E.T., the Extra-Terrestrial. Then there are movies that seem like a sequel could be made, to continue the adventures of their characters, yet sometimes even those sequels prove tricky (Blues Brothers 2000 springs to mind).

Donnie Darko is more like the former. Richard Kelly's cool cult phenomena offered an original and disturbing vision of suburban life, the terror behind the white picket fence, capturing the isolation and desperation of teen angst. A tale of alienation, being invisible, yet desperately wanting to be known; of parents not knowing they exist as they search for a place to belong and tendrils of connection. All layered with a healthy serving of science fiction fable.

S. Darko takes place seven years after the events involving Samantha Darko (Daveigh Chase, reprising her role from the original film) and her brother Donnie. Seven years to end up in essentially the same place. Lost, alone, struggling her way through life and its meaning. She joins her best friend Corey (Briana Evigan) on a road trip to California or to otherwise find themselves, as Sam dreams of becoming a dancer. Their car breaks down in a small Utah town, filled with eccentric characters and religious fanatics. Of course a meteor hits and sets in motion a chain of events that lead to prophecies of the end of the world happening.

Make no mistake, the only members from the original team behind Donnie Darko present for this debacle are Chase and a producer. All other caretakers of the vision are perfectly absent, leaving us with a poorly written, cliché strewn, tedious mess of a movie that barely makes sense when it’s not delivering banality at a record clip.
“We have the same holes in our hearts, you and me.” –Randy (Ed Westwick)

In the “Darko” universe there are the “manipulated dead” (Frank the Bunny in Donnie Darko and Samantha in S. Darko), someone whose future deceased self communicates with the receiver, prompting them to follow the destiny set forth for them; and “living receivers ” (Donnie in the first film and Iraq Jack (James Lafferty) in this one). Between the time travel, wormholes, and connections to other realities or dimensions, especially set against the backdrop of religious fanaticism, one can’t help but wonder about how God fits into this space-time continuum.
“God has all the time in the world for you.” –John Mellit (Matthew Davis)

The idea of heaven –God space, His dwelling place, His dimension—sits opposed to our space in some people’s mind, not God’s location within our space-time universe. So when we talk about heaven, this pie in the sky when we die place, we think of a destination spot for the redeemed. We occupy earth space, our dimension of reality. Heaven is not just a future reality, but a present one, where we go to be with God where He’s always been. So does God space and our space intersect, if so, how, when, and where?

“But when I was your age, I experienced things that made me feel like God didn't exist. Maybe you've experienced something like that too.” –John Mellit

Embracing the complexity of our reality, we have quasi-independent, mysterious overlapping dimensions. The two dimensions overlap and interlock in specific weighs as God intrudes or otherwise makes His presence felt. Abraham met Him, Adam walked with Him, He led the nation of Israel by pillars of fire/cloud, introduced Moses to Himself via a burning bush (holy ground), and was worshiped through the Temple. God operate under certain parameters, acting from within creation through His Presence, the Torah (the Bible), and Spirit. Ultimately, Jesus is the intersection: in him, heaven and earth intersect.

No one quite found their footing in S. Darko, from the writer (Nathan Atkins ) to the director (Chris Fisher) to the actors/actresses. It’s not like the core audience of Donnie Darko longs for a movie that makes sense, but there at least has the be the semblance of logic rather than events playing out for their own sake and characters that are weird for weird’s sake. Unfortunately, rather than re-create any of the magic of the original, this is a sequel best left forgotten. It’s more like they decided to re-tell the original movie in a less interesting way.

The Uninvited - A Review

“The Uninspired”

The Uninvited is one of those kind of horror movies that leaves me frustrated. It’s a time worn premise that could still be mined for something interesting, which languishes on the screen. It has the trappings of a horror movie, some requisite boo moments and random creepy visions, which don’t really add up to a sustainable atmosphere. When it’s not pretending to be a horror movie, it’s half a thriller, in the vein of the 90s cautionary movies such as Fatal Attraction, Pacific Heights, Single White Female, etc. It’s strictly (horror/thriller) movie by numbers.

Based on Kim Jee-Woon's 2003 Korean horror film, Changhwa Hongryon, The Uninvited centers on the story of Anna (Emily Browning), a troubled teen who returns home after spending time in the hospital following the tragic death of her mother. Her family situation continues to be complicated as she finds out that her father is involved with her mother’s former caretaker, Rachel (Elizabeth Banks). Anna’s mother’s ghost shows up to warn her because her soon-to-be evil stepmother isn’t who she claims to be. Anna teams up with her equally troubled, though in a different way, sister, Alex, as they investigate their father’s girlfriend in a battle of wills.

“We all have things in our past that we’re ashamed of. I think sometimes it’s best to let them go.” –Rachel

We all have regrets. Fixing matters isn’t always an option: what’s done is done. Sometimes you just have to carry the weight of your bad decisions and selfishness and hopefully let them shape you into a better person. Even our mistakes have value, if it leads to a transformation of who you are and what you do. If we can’t go through life doing our best to love one another, then the least we can do is try and go through life trying to cause as little damage as possible. And have fewer causes of regrets.

Danny DeVito’s character in the movie The Big Kahuna put it this way: “I'm saying you've already done plenty of things to regret, you just don't know what they are. It's when you discover them, when you see the folly in something you've done, and you wish that you had it do over, but you know you can't, because it's too late. So you pick that thing up, and carry it with you to remind you that life goes on, the world will spin without you, you really don't matter in the end. Then you will gain character, because honesty will reach out from inside and tattoo itself across your face.”

Sibling directors, Charles and Thomas Guard, haven’t quite mastered the rhythms of a horror movie, inserting predictable creepy elements rather than doing anything with them. The movie arrives a few years too late to ride the coat tails of the Asian horror re-make trend (The Ring, The Grudge, Shutter). Dull, flat, and obvious, the movie lacks style, grace, creepiness, and any originality and there are better ways to kill an hour and a half of your time.

Star Trek

“All that you know is wrong”

Long time comic book readers are used to the idea of a history reboot. After all, characters like Superman, Batman, the Fantastic Four, and X-Men have been around for decades and as such, have accumulated a long, entangled history that makes it difficult for a newcomer to just jump into the books. There are two common ways around this dilemma: start a new book, possibly in a new universe, with familiar though not exact continuity, ala the Ultimate line (Ultimate Spider-Man, Ultimates, Ultimate Powers, Ultimate Iron Man, Ultimate Hulk); or do a continuity shattering story line that give you an excuse to reboot your franchise (Crisis on Infinite Earths, Zero Hour, Final Crisis, House of M).

Star Trek was a mix of both.

Star Trek had become quite the continuity nightmare since its initial run. After The Original Series (and its animated follow up) came the movies, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine*, more movies, Star Trek: Voyager, and Enterprise. That’s a lot of Star Trek and too much of a good—well, largely mediocre—thing can exhaust even that faithful audience. The J.J. Abrahms (Lost, Alias, Mission Impossible III) re-launch of the Star Trek franchise was clever and fun, and most importantly, free of the problems that beset most origin movies. Let’s face it, when we’re watching Spider-Man, Batman, or Iron Man, yes, the movie has to introduce us to the characters, let us get to know them (for those unfamiliar with them), but it’s just the countdown to when they put on the spandex.

“A friendship that could define you both.” –Spock

Going all the way back to their childhoods, we have James Tiberius Kirk (Chris Pine) as the hot-head rebel without a cause balanced against the boy of two worlds/outcast of both ever-stoic Spock (Zachary Quinto, who we quickly forget is Sylar from Heroes). Abrams remains faithful to Gene Roddenberry’s creation. Pine’s Kirk has the swagger and cockiness we’ve come to expect and spends a lot of time nearly sliding off things (cliffs, platforms, etc.). Spock, aka “that pointy-eared bastard”, is given a romantic life with communications officer Uhura (Zoë Saldana), something hinted at in The Original Series episode Charlie X. (And there’s even a nod to the mishaps of being a red shirt assigned to missions with Kirk). The movie over-arching story is how these two become friends.

The rest of the movie follows the time-tripping tale of Nero (Eric Bana) returning to the Federation of Planets in order to get revenge on Spock. Which, gives us an excuse to not only get the original Spock into the story (a still spry Leonard Nimoy), but “logically” gives the movie its impetus to establish an entire new chain of events, a new/alternate reality. Well, as logical as “red matter” and making black holes can be.

There are some recurring numbers in the Bible which seem to be important, like three and seven (and twelve and forty). Star Trek: The Original Series revolved around a trinity: Kirk, Spock, and Leonard “Bones” McCoy (the professional pessimist of a ship’s doctor, now played by Karl Urban). There were other characters, but they were never especially fleshed out, little more than ciphers who we had a passing knowledge of. In the movie, we begin to have a sense of them as real characters: Uhuru (given more to do in this movie than probably the entire original series combined), Scotty (Simon Pegg stole every scene he was in), Sulu (John Cho, who brought the swashbuckling), and Chekhov (Anton Yelchin, now a 17 year old brain who brought the comedy relief and manages to not become a ghost of Wesley Crusher from Star Trek: The Next Generation). Seven.

“You will always be a child of two worlds.” –Sarek

We all come into life with the baggage of our parents, the family which shapes and forms us. We live in the shadow of their expectations and incorporate the lessons they teach us, even the inadvertent lessons of their absence. Yet at some point, we have to break from them and become our own person and fulfill our own destiny. That’s the lesson Kirk and Spock come to terms with.

As with any continuity re-vamp, the bulk of history is still familiar (enough to please long-term fans), but the details are now up for grabs, free to change and reinterpret by writers/creators. By giving a tip of the hat to mythos, and making a point that none of the mythos are safe, Abrams makes Star Trek both exciting and relevant again. This is a big screen Star Trek, not simply an episode blown up. And it’s fun … fun, in the truest spirit of Kirk!



*And I did this entire review without once saying that Star Trek: Deep Space Nine was the best iteration of all of the Star Trek franchises.

The Haunting of Molly Hartley – A Review

“It’s Never Too Late”

I’ll spare you the suspense: this movie is not good. Religious/supernatural horror is practically its own sub-genre. Christianity—typically demons or the Anti-Christ/end times—informs the horror behind some classic, and not-so-classic, movies (The Exorcist, Rosemary’s Baby, The Omen, The Prophecy, The Exorcism of Emily Rose, Constantine) as well as television shows (Reaper or Supernatural). For that matter, teen angst has always been a source of potential terror, from Carrie to Twilight. So it’s not exactly unfamiliar territory that The Haunting of Molly Hartley covers. Not only does it not add anything new, it doesn’t do anything remotely approaching interesting with all of the potential fodder for terror.

“Stop acting like everything is going to be alright.” –Molly

The eponymous Molly (Haley Bennett), troubled 17-year-old, finds herself as the new kid at a prep school. Her mother, after a bout of the crazies, had stabbed her with some scissors in order to prevent a great darkness from overtaking her. Her worried dad (Jake Weber, Medium) seeks help from a guidance counselor (Nina Siemaszko) in order to help his daughter. Plagued by headaches, creepy visions, a cavalcade of zealous Christians, and bad pick up lines from resident big stud on campus, Joseph (Chace Crawford, Gossip Girl), Molly runs through a strictly by the numbers story which doesn’t go anywhere.

“Some people are offended that I have a close, personal relationship with Jesus.” –Alexis (Shanna Collins)

The role of religious delusions and nutjobs is what is ultimately examined in this movie (although the word “examined” really gives this movie a lot of credit ... such as intentionality of forethought). Apparently Christians stereotypically have difficulty navigating the secular world. Their brand of evangelism buys into the “greatest act of love is to share Christ”/“confrontational evangelism” brand of guilting folks into a state of constant witnessing. These walking proselytizing robots forget that to be fully human we must build relationships with people. Now, if you build relationships with people for the sole purpose of trying to preach the gospel to them, you're not really building a relationship...you're building a customer base.

Nutjob Christians are also not comfortable viewing the Bible as “merely” a literary text but only as “the Truth!”. The problem is that we end up making the Bible into something that not only is it not, but it never claims to be. It’s not an answer book for every question in your life or to govern every aspect of your life. (People turn to it and if there’s an issue that the Bible doesn’t comment on, it must be bad). It is not an encyclopedia. It’s not a scientific text. It’s not a history treatise. It’s not a self-help guide. But when we treat it as such, we drive out the mystery from our spiritual lives. It’s this kind of reductionism that allows a person to wave around a verse thinking that should settle an argument.

Let’s face it, while there is plenty in the history of Christianity to be apologized for, neither it nor its followers are the bogeyman this movie wants to make it out to be. Religion, much like politics, has been and can be perverted to people’s own agenda and ends. People can go mad with fear, so that even basic ideas, such as the reality of demonic forces, get twisted into something dark.

“Is it too late for me to be saved? … Even if someone else chose a terrible path for me?” –Molly

The Haunting of Molly Hartley is the kind of category horror that’s ultimately unsatisfying. It’s filled with the requisite boo moments which don’t make you flinch nearly as much as the poor dialogue and acting. With no building tension or feeling of being unsettled, the movie follows the predictable rhythms of building hints of weirdness followed by lulls. Lots and lots of lulls.


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