Directors: Robert Rodriguez, Ethan Maniquis

Starring: Danny Trejo

Release Date: September 3, 2010

Chop ‘em Like It’s Hot

If you’ve seen Planet Terror and/or Death Proof—the two Grindhouse productions that Rodriguez and Tarantino released three years ago—then you know exactly what to expect from Machete.  In fact, that’s where viewers first caught a glimpse of the machete-wielding Mexican renegade who’s out to “settle the score.”

Born from a “joke” trailer that seemed to be little more than a fleeting gag, the feature length film, which features a formidable Danny Trejo in the lead role, mostly delivers on its promise of being an unmitigated torrent of blood, carnage, and all around gratuitousness.  Still, the overall effect is slightly marred by a misplaced sense of narrative duty that, to the best of my assessment, rests solely with Rodriguez.  For one unfathomable reason or another, the writer/director seems to have been hellbent on weaving a heavy-handed treatise on immigration into his latest exploitation effort.

It’s not that I disagree with his message, it’s just that, you know, people are going to see Machete because it’s supposed to be of “grindhouse” caliber—namely, it should be a series of ridiculously violent action sequences that are intermittently halted by stiff, laughable plot points.  In this case, the design is almost too coherent (I can’t believe I’m faulting a film for actually working to generate a lucid story), and this occasionally detracts from the gleefully raunchy facade that permeates the project as a whole.

I only point out this fault because the rest of Machete works so well.  Despite the sagging (and sometimes inconsistent) load that often represents the second act, the movie is book-ended by some incredibly creative—and incredibly over-the-top—sequences of mutilation that will leave you in stitches.  Of particular note is the now infamous “intestinal swing.”  The grand finale—it can be labeled nothing else—is jaw-dropping in its absurdity.  In fact, I frequently had flashbacks of the back alley brawl witnessed in Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy.  The difference, of course, is that Machete substitutes dry incongruities for blood, explosions, and stale one-liners.

After the disappointingly tepid Predators, it’s good to see Rodriguez back on top of his game.  The fact that there’s a relatively good chance we’ll see at least one more installment of Machete makes me happy, too.

A new, unexpectedly effective action icon has been born.  Just remember: Machete don’t text.

out of 5

–Chris Flowers

Rated R for strong bloody violence throughout, language, some sexual content and nudity.

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The Night is Darkest Just Before the Dawn

There’s no shortage of Star Wars fan films.  From Ryan vs. Dorkman to TROOPS, nerds with cameras have been churning out these gems for quite some time.  Rarely, however, does one come along that’s memorable because of its scope and promise; A Light in the Darkness, however, has the potential to be the live action series that George Lucas promised so many years ago (a project that, much to the chagrin of fans across the globe, has yet to come to fruition).

What we’re treated to here is the first installment of a series—just how many episodes will emerge isn’t clear.  It’s about 20 minutes long, and serves primarily as an introduction to the major players.  We’re also informed that the time period is not long after the execution (pun intended) of Order 66—if you’re chronologically challenged when it comes to the Star Wars time line, watch Revenge of the Sith and you’ll be brought up to snuff.

A boy befriends a Jedi protector, only to see him murdered by clone troopers who believe they’re serving the best interest of the Galactic Republic.  This boy grows into a man, and decides it’s high time the members of a fledgling Rebel Alliance “stick it to the man.”  There’s also the presence of a female lead who’s clearly reminiscent of Han Solo’s gruff, smugly realistic persona featured in A New Hope, and it appears that she’ll eventually fill in the role of “love interest” to our eager hero.  Who knows: she could even turn out to be his sister.

If you’re a Star Wars nut like me, there are likely a few questions you’ll want answered, so let me try to tackle them in as straightforward a manner as possible.

Is the production quality on par with what we find in the six “canon” films?  No.  It isn’t bad, though.  Actually, it’s very much akin to what one would expect from a Sci-fi Channel feature film, and that adds a certain level of charm I wouldn’t have expected.  We get a mixed bag of hokey CGI locales/laser blasts and conventional makeup (which looks great).  In one scene, there’s an especially nice directorial touch when a non-human scumbag reveals his multi-appendage advantage on our bright-eyed protagonist.

The costumes are—as one would hope—Star Wars-ian in nature, but there are also hints of Firefly.  In case you were wondering (and I know you were), the light saber effects are solid; I wouldn’t say they top the previously mentioned Ryan vs. Dorkman, but they get the job done.

The story is moderately interesting; to its credit, there were moments where it left me feeling like “I could take on the whole Empire myself.”  All-in-all, I’m looking forward to the second entry.

To be perfectly honest, more than anything I think I’m more intrigued by a storyline that doesn’t include the faces we’re so familiar with.  I have to say, though, that I’m a little skeptical about the overall quality of the series as a whole, as the acting and dialogue are disappointingly stale.  I know what you’re thinking: “Have you seen any one of the prequels?  I mean, really?  Besides, this is a fan film, man.”

Yes, I have.  Many times.  The acting is better in those movies (though marginally).  And even though stiff performances can be written off because of an inexperienced cast, that doesn’t change the fact that an otherwise immersive story is significantly weakened because of a hit to the realism.

Still, for a film crafted with what had to have been a meager budget, A Light in the Darkness is a promising start to a series that has the potential to be the long lost live action spin-off Lucas once promised.  Because of this, I fully recommend it to fellow Star Wars nerds (er, fans).

out of 5

Click here to watch Part One of A Light in the Darkness in its entirety.

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Not Nearly as Twangy as You Might Expect

Jeff Bridges is one of my favorite actors, and just so happens to be the leading man in two of my favorite films (The Big Lebowski and Arlington Road).  Now 61 years young, he’s certainly showing no signs of slowing down.

Crazy Heart, the 2009 offering for which Bridges took home the Oscar for Best Actor, is a prime example of the acting titan’s ability to consistently breathe credibility into any variety of characters.  Think of it as an optimistic version of Aronofsky’s The Wrestler (though it doesn’t resonate on quite so many levels).

Here, our protagonist is Bad Blake, an aging country music legend who’s been reduced to churning out the same tired songs in bowling alleys, side street restaurants, and the like.  Bad makes no bones about the fact that he’s tired of his career existing on the verge of oblivion, but he’s also conscious of the fact that his problems are a result of his diseased condition.  Bad’s a chain-smoking alcoholic who has plenty of domestic issues he’s trying to sort out, and his nightly post-performance routine involves liaisons with less-than-reputable female admirers.

All of that begins to change when he meets Jean (Gyllenhaal), a Santa Fe journalist who who’s trying to start her career as an entertainment writer.  The two hit it off almost immediately, and some genuine emotions lead to a relationship that accurately mirrors the non-Hollywood (insert “harsh”) complexity found in real life affinities.

There are a few predictable “bumps in the road” for Bad and Jean, but the story never deteriorates into the usual sequence of mistakes which finds a reconciled couple kissing as the credits roll.  On top of this—as previously indicated—Crazy Heart is surprisingly upbeat.  Though Bad has his fair share of issues, the movie makes a clear statement that recovery (especially from the dark dredges of alcoholism) is, in fact, possible.  It even goes a step further by highlighting what life beyond such a wretched state is like.

That’s what I like most about Crazy Heart—the fact that it doesn’t take (what is now) a cliched route with its plot.  Sure, people die from the same things Bad is battling on a daily basis, but there are many who overcome their circumstances.  This is something that director Scott Cooper and novelist Thomas Cobb obviously wanted to emphasize, and I heartily applaud the decision.

Crazy Heart is worth your time.  It doesn’t “reinvent the wheel,” but stellar acting and an able story make it that rare faux biopic that leaves you smiling instead of grinding your teeth as you mull over the bitter fruit of the world’s debauchery.

out of 5

–Chris Flowers

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Director: Adam McKay

Starring: Will Ferrell, Mark Wahlberg

Release Date: August 6, 2010

You Might Want to Buy a Red Prius

***WARNING: Minor Spoilers Below***

Adam McKay—the writer/director behind previous Ferrell vehicles Anchorman and Talladega Nights—reunites with the goofy lead who put him on the map in The Other Guys, a film about two under-appreciated NYC Police officers.

We’re thrown into the typical “buddy cop” action scenario right from the start: two hot shot cops (played by Samuel L. Jackson and Dwayne Johnson) are tearing up the streets of Manhattan to bring a car full of thugs to justice.  They do things like crash a muscle car into a double-decker tour bus, completely demolish the main entrance to Trump Tower, so on and so forth.  As expected, it’s humorous in that self-parodying sort of way, and the hammy, macho delivery of Jackson and Johnson’s lines suggest they’ll be a worthwhile addition to what looks to be a well-rounded spoof of Lethal Weapon.

McKay and Ferrell have other ideas, though, as these two charismatic foils are summarily taken out of the picture (in what has to be one of the most random death scenes in recent memory).  Enter Allen Gamble (Ferrell) and Terry Hoitz (Wahlberg), a straight-laced department accountant/detective (yeah, I know—the combination doesn’t make a whole lot of sense) and an out-to-redeem-himself cop (respectively).  I won’t spoil the goods on why Hoitz has been demoted to a bland desk job, but if you’re “anti-Yankees” you’ll draw great enjoyment from the explanation.

Soon, the pair gets caught up in a case involving fraud, embezzlement, etc.  They’re constantly reprimanded by their Chief (Michael Keaton)—who also works a side job at Bed, Bath, and Beyond—and, of course, eventually bring the bad guy(s) to justice and emerge as the heroes of the hour.

Oddly enough, The Other Guys doesn’t really send-up the “buddy cop” sub-genre; it more or less wears it down with an onslaught of mildly amusing jokes that are glued to a feebly constructed narrative.

The movie does have its moments.  Seeing Ferrell and Wahlberg weave through busy NYC intersections in a cocaine covered Prius is entertaining, but Gamble’s background as a pimp and Hoitz’s inexplicable ability to perfectly nail certain ballet routines is almost too random for its own good.  In the end, though, it’s just not as laugh-out-loud funny as Ferrell and McKay’s previous collaborations.

Another point: Mark Wahlberg is funny from time to time, but he’s never the comic foil one would’ve hoped for.  He does his best to keep pace with a mediocre performance from Will Ferrell, but it just isn’t enough.  In retrospect, he’s infinitely more effective in Date Night—a movie where he’s on-screen for no more than 15 minutes.

Things become really disheartening when long-running storylines/gags never find resolution.  Such is the case with another cop duo that Gamble and Hoitz are constantly sparring with.  We’re also given a hint that Hoitz is pretty handy in a fistfight, but this is never taken advantage of (in terms of comedy or action), thus causing the scene where his skills are on display to fall by the wayside as a flat note that seems hurriedly tacked on for no good reason.

Where Anchorman and Talladega Nights succeeded was in their “too stupid to care” attitude, and it often seems that the The Other Guys is trying desperately to recreate that same brand of unpredictable, deadpan comedy.  It never happens, and audiences will likely leave the theater clamoring for some genuinely funny moments to cling to.

No matter how hard they try, though, it’s going to be nearly impossible to justify having paid $10 to watch Will Ferrell be ho-hum when everyone knows he’s capable of much, much more.

out of 5

–Chris Flowers

Rated PG-13 for crude and sexual content, language, violence and some drug material.

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“Meh” Zone

Matt Damon and director Paul Greengrass seem to be forging a bond that could eventually mirror the fabled union between Johnny Depp and Tim Burton.  First they rolled out three very solid Bourne films, and now they’ve worked together on the notably less publicized Green Zone—a movie that wears its political agenda squarely on its sleeve.

It’s about Chief Warrant Officer Roy Miller (Matt Damon): a soldier who’s gotten fed-up with participating in a string of failed missions to recover the now infamous Weapons of Mass Destruction that defined the early years of the Iraq War.  After consulting with a CIA agent named Martin Brown (Brendan Gleeson), Miller decides to take matters into his own hands and begins his own crusade to capture a high priority target—something the powers-that-be seem unwilling to do.  There’s the typical bureaucratic federal type played by Greg Kinnear, and a few other cliches—such as a “do-gooder” local named Freddie (who is strangely reminiscent of any number of characters found in Three Kings, though not nearly as fleshed out)—manifest themselves as the story moves forward.

As is the case with the Bourne series, Greengrass decided to take the “handheld/shaky” camera approach to Green Zone.  As expected, this gives the film a somewhat grainy appearance that works overtime to create the illusion of realism.  The action sequences are frenetic, featuring whizzing bullets and prolonged chases down pitch black alleyways.  Still, the sense of credibility Greengrass creates is in real danger of dissolving as Miller miraculously evades increasingly lethal scenarios.

When one takes a step back from Green Zone and compares it to any recent war movie—such as The Hurt Locker—its luster starts to fade.  It’s competently directed, but, in the long run, doesn’t really break any new ground.  The plot is shockingly straightforward (I say “shockingly” because every movie that comes out nowadays has at least one double-cross thrown in for good measure), and, depending on your point of view, this is either refreshing or mind-numbingly boring.  With a few brief exceptions, I found myself mostly apathetic to the narrative.

Another problem is that, in the end, the movie’s screaming a message many people already agree with.  Just in case you do end up renting it, I won’t spoil the concluding moments here, but there’s a strong chance you’ll walk away with the feeling that you’ve been cheated.

Art should inform us, shouldn’t it?  Isn’t its goal to bring to light some previously unknown (or hard to pin down) universal truth?  Green Zone seems to think it’s reaching for a more thorough understanding of the underpinnings of the Iraq War (or, perhaps, “war” in general), but it never resonates in any lasting way.  After the recent bevy of fantastic war films that paint very detailed pictures of what most of us will never see, I can only categorize this particular offering as middle-of-the-road.

Considering the talent involved, that’s really disappointing.

out of 5

–Chris Flowers

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This Movie Bites

In a little less than a month, Piranha 3D will be here.  If you haven’t seen the previews, you can likely guess what it’s all about based solely on the title: killer piranhas brutally consume idiotic people, and it all happens in the titillating third dimension.  As much as I’m knocking it, Piranha 3D has a great cast (including the long-absent Christopher Lloyd) and appears to have fully embraced its “B” movie status.  With any luck, it’ll be the sleeper popcorn flick of the summer.

This won’t be the first movie to try and capitalize on aquatic terror by way of schlocky 3D effects, though.  In 1983, Jaws 3-D hit theaters, and I can only imagine that people flocked to it hoping for an intense—and blood-soaked—follow-up to the inevitably inferior Jaws 2 (which, of course, had no shot at holding a candle to the movie that gave birth to summer blockbusters: Jaws).  Though I didn’t have the “benefit” of seeing this one in 3D, I think it’s safe to say that this is one of the worst, most blatantly exploitative sequels to come from a major studio in the history of the medium.

Let’s start with the story.  In short, it’s a shoddy rehash of what takes place in Jaws.  A money-hungry businessman (a mayor in the original) puts the lives of hundreds of people in danger by choosing to ignore a contingency of experts who warn him that a 35-foot man-eating great white is trapped inside his theme park.  What follows, of course, is pandemonium as the monstrous fish maims and terrorizes a boatload of innocent tourists.

It seems director Joe Alves took a cue from Spielberg by deciding to try and build some tension by waiting a while to finally reveal the deadly, almost otherworldly mega killer.  But this unveiling surrenders any intensity it might otherwise have had by forcing us to endure stale dialogue and characters that are cardboard cutouts; ironically, the very thing audiences expect to find in just this sort of horror movie.  For some this is all well and good because the movie is billed as a 3D terror-fest—no one is expecting Shakespeare.  But come on—the squandering of the talent involved (namely Dennis Quaid, Lea Thompson, and Louis Gossett Jr.) is absolutely inexcusable, and it demonstrates two things: the horrendous nature of the script and the inability of Alves to elicit a single memorable performance out of any one of these actors who are now universally recognized as A-list stars.

Oh, and guess what theme park Bruce the Third is trapped in?  SeaWorld.

This is an example of product placement at its most errant.  I don’t know what SeaWorld hoped to accomplish through their involvement with Jaws 3-D; maybe they thought people would flock to Orlando because they wanted to get trapped in an underwater tunnel while a giant shark rammed its fragile glass tubing.  Fun!

If anything, all this movie does is flesh out (pun intended) a sense of incompetence on the part of the long-running deep-sea attraction.  For example, after catching the offspring of the killer-of-the-hour, park officials neglect the infant great white by displaying it in a shallow tank.  It dies, and people walk away to buy cotton candy, apparently completely unaffected by the ordeal.  What’s more, the movie also suggests that SeaWorld patrons are idiots, as they laugh and clap while Dennis Quaid frantically tries to prevent a group of pyramid skiers from becoming chum.

Then there are the 3D bits.  A severed arm floats ominously in front of the camera.  Later, when Bruce is demolished by a live grenade, parts of his dismembered body (including a piece of his jaw and what looks like a section of large intestine) remain static on the screen for a solid five seconds.  At one point Quaid fires a harpoon gun directly at the audience.

It’s all very revolutionary.

Not to beat a dead horse, but the non-3D effects are absolutely nauseating, too.  This movie was released 8 years after Jaws, and its star—the shark, of course—looks like something a film school student stitched together in the wee hours of the morning with an Etch-A-Sketch and construction paper.  It’s light years worse than what Spielberg and company crafted almost a decade prior.  At one point it dumbly hurtles toward the screen, not bothering to, you know, swim, and eventually the great prop slowly opens its—wait for it!—jaws only to shatter a glass barrier no one in the audience knew existed.

The shards of glass, of course, fly toward us in the most gimmicky manner imaginable.

I’ll paint one more picture for you.  At the conclusion, a pair of horribly rendered, superimposed dolphins perform celebratory somersaults as Dennis Quaid and his love interest pump their pruned fists in the air.

Its awfulness did draw one or two unintentional hardy-har-hars from me, so I guess I’ll save it the shame of walking away with the dreaded goose egg.  Be thankful for your half-star, Joe Alves.

Be very thankful.

out of 5

–Chris Flowers

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Director: Phillip Noyce

Starring: Angelina Jolie, Liev Schreiber

Release Date: July 23, 2010

And They Say Salt is Bad for You

Who is Salt?  That’s the tagline for Angelina Jolie’s latest vehicle, a spy thriller that is much more effective than I had anticipated.

The story rotates around Evelyn Salt (”Ev” for short), a CIA agent whose specialty is US-Russian relations.  One day, a self-proclaimed Russian defective waltzes into CIA headquarters and begins divulging all kinds of sensitive information.  Long story short, he states that a Russian spy will assassinate the Russian President while he attends the funeral of the US Vice President in New York City.  At first, everyone assumes the guy’s a loon who’s “blowin’ smoke,” but just as his cross-examination is about to end he states the name of the assassin: Evelyn Salt.

This, of course, causes Ev’s agency pals to instantly become suspicious, and she’s held for questioning while they try to sort the whole thing out.  Ev has dinner plans, though, so she decides to make haste and cuts the interrogation short.  This starts a cat and mouse chase through the streets of DC that doesn’t really let up in any measurable way until the credits begin to roll at the film’s conclusion.

There are a number of things that help elevate Salt above a bevy of other spy offerings.  For starters, the story is just intelligent (and I mean just) enough to keep audiences engaged for the full 100 minute runtime.  And though the movie is admittedly brief, it never feels too short—that is, it moves along at a brisk enough pace so as not to test our patience.  It’s a great example of how whittling out all unnecessary elements/subplots—well, almost all—can be a great thing.  If a Scorsese picture is Faulknerian in nature, I think it’s fairly safe to say that Noyce has pegged what it is to be Hemingway-esque (though I dare not credit the story with that much mental fortitude).

What’s particularly nice about Salt is that its action sequences are followable and, even more importantly, thrilling.  Noyce has chosen not to engage in the frenzied, somewhat erratic directorial style of some contemporary filmmakers who shoot their fight scenes as if they’re choppy music videos.  There’s a real sense that Evelyn is someone who is highly trained and shouldn’t be messed with (this is made apparent, for example, when she effortlessly crushes peoples’ throats, creates lethal weapons out of household cleaning items, etc.).

But let’s get back to the plot.  Despite having some quantifiable degree of mental aptitude, it still manages to succumb to certain cliches that audiences will be able to anticipate from a mile out.  Some may see this as a hindrance, but it throws so many worthwhile “turns” into the plot—a handful of which aren’t that predictable—that when the finale materializes it seems as if we’ve successfully navigated a fairly fluid narrative web and have been rewarded for sticking out some of the more predictable moments.

All-in-all, there’s not much to complain about when it comes to Salt.  It’s a solid spy actioner that does its job well, and it might just leave you breathless from time to time.  What’s not to like?

out of 5

–Chris Flowers

Rated PG-13 for intense sequences of violence and action.

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Director: Christopher Nolan

Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Ellen Page

Release Date: July 16, 2010

I Dreamed a Dream

Back in 1999, I was a junior in high school, and a little movie called The Matrix was unleashed upon the world.  I remember going to see it with a friend; we were both fairly oblivious regarding the nature of the plot, as well as the presence of the now famous stylized (and infinitely duplicated) action sequences.  Leaving the theater, I had the distinct feeling that I’d seen something revolutionary—as ambiguous as that term may be—and that I had really only processed a fraction of what was taking place on screen.  During the wee hours of this past morning—around 2:35 AM, to be exact—that feeling of having experienced something undeniably groundbreaking was finally replicated.

As a matter of fact, I’ll go so far as to say that Inception surpasses The Matrix on nearly every level.  It’s that rare film which is simply unforgettable, thriving on superb acting, a brilliantly layered story, and mesmerizing choreography.

If you’ve seen the trailers—and who hasn’t?—you might be a little confused as to what it’s all about, so let me take a stab at cluing you in.  Dom Cobb (DiCaprio) is an “extractor”—a person who’s hired to create an artificial dreamworld (an oxymoron?) and steal people’s secrets while they sleep.  This, of course, is illegal, and for a variety of reasons Cobb has been globetrotting for some time to avoid capture.  He’s also an estranged father, and is believed to be guilty in the murder of his wife (who frequently shows up in each of the dream environments he constructs).  Anyway, entering the human mind is apparently a fairly straightforward task, and it’s all accomplished via a device that was originally developed for military training.

After a botched attempt to extract information from a wealthy businessman named Saito (Ken Watanabe), he’s hired to perform what’s known as an “inception.”  Essentially, it’s the highly controversial notion that you can plant an idea in someone’s mind to cause him/her to behave in a specific way.  In this instance, Saito wants Cobb to convince the heir of an energy tycoon to break up his father’s empire.  This is in Saito’s interest because it eliminates his only competition, thus allowing his corporation to exist as an unfettered monopoly.  If Cobb is able to successfully do this, says Saito, he’ll pull a few strings and Cobb will be able to return to his native America and once again be with this children.

I’ve obviously left out a lot of key details, but trust me when I say the plot—though admittedly complex—is wholly engaging and completely rewarding.  As a number of critics have noted, Inception demands that its viewers’ intellect is engaged full throttle as things progress, and I found that this was a natural consequence of being thrust into the story.  In other words, it didn’t seem like a “chore” to really think deeply about what was happening on screen; it was second nature.  The film moves at a brisk pace, but it provides enough cues to remind you of certain narrative intricacies that might otherwise have dissolved into your own subconscious.

As you’d imagine, the setup is a veritable cornucopia of possibilities for action junkies.  I found myself collecting my jaw from the theater floor as cityscapes folded in on themselves and modernistic dreamscapes crumbled because of protruding influences from the outside world.  Of special note is a prolonged car chase sequence.  It pushes the boundaries of time perception, and takes the notion of stacking one dream atop another to new levels.  Let me elaborate briefly (and I’ll try to do so without ruining any of the surprise that inevitably comes with such a thrilling tale).

Our protagonists—a team of “dream thieves,” if you will—enter the dreams of their intended target.  Once there, they’re attacked by his subconscious, which has been trained to defend against just this sort of “break in.”  As they try to buy themselves time so that they can accomplish their goal, they enter a dream within that dream and find that they’re now able to interact with their mark in an entirely new fashion.  As the car chase continues in the original dream, though, they feel the physical effects in their new dream.  When their driver takes a sharp turn, for instance, their gravity shifts in the new dream, and they’re all thrown to one side of a room.

Yeah, I know.  It sounds crazy complicated.  It is.  Trust me, though, when I say that it all makes complete sense within the context of the story, and you’ll marvel at Nolan’s ability to generate a plot that asks so much of its audience.

This, of course, is only the tip of the iceberg, and there are some excellently crafted subplots that tackle more universal issues (such as learning how to “let go” of lost loved ones, etc.).  It’s the sort of movie that warrants a seemingly infinite number of viewings, and you’ll find yourself analyzing its idiosyncrasies for decades to come.

I’ll close by saying Inception is not only the best film I’ve seen thus far in 2010, it’s one of the best I’ve ever seen, and has rightfully earned a spot on my Top 10 list.  This is a moment in cinematic history that shouldn’t be missed.

out of 5

–Chris Flowers

Rated PG-13 for sequences of violence and action throughout.

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Director: Nimrod Antal

Starring: Adrien Brody, Topher Grace

Release Date: July 9, 2010

So, You Cooked Up a Story and Dropped us Into the Meat Grinder

***WARNING: Minor Spoilers Below***

Predator is one of my favorite sci-fi thrillers.  I wouldn’t say it’s flawless, but it’s certainly smart, well paced, and filled with relentless tension.  The ruthless intergalactic hunter the film’s named after is, of course, central to the story, but the plot thrives (and is memorable) because of the commanding performance given by none other than Arnold Schwarzenegger, the undisputed king of 80’s shoot-em-ups.  It also doesn’t hurt that he’s accompanied by one of the best action movie ensembles of the past thirty years, with the likes of Bill Duke, Carl Weathers, and Jesse Ventura rounding out the posse of hardened special ops vets who are “the best of the best.”

I know we’re not here to talk about Predator, but I think it’s important that I clarify my (and many other peoples’) love for the movie.  As a member of a dedicated fan-base that has had to endure its fair share of ups and downs within the franchise, I went into the latest sequel—which has been widely billed as the hardcore follow-up that the original never received—with extremely heightened expectations.  The verdict I now must deliver pains me, but I have to say it anyway: Predators is a disappointment.  It’s a movie brimming with fresh ideas, almost none of which are able to gel into something truly memorable.

Things start out well enough.  A mercenary named Royce (Brody) awakens to find he is plummeting through the sky at terminal velocity.  Something (the predators, of course) has strapped a parachute-on-a-timer to his person and dropped him into a foreign jungle.  Once he’s on solid ground, he’s greeted by a gritty group comprised of a deathrow inmate, a Yakuza clan member, a Mexican drug-runner, etc.  They’re all “predators” of our contemporary society—a fact that’s spelled out for the audience with a bit of heavy-handed dialogue identifying them as such—and they soon discover the severity of their plight.  These murderous renegades were abducted and marooned on an alien planet so they could be hunted by an extra-terrestrial race whose existence and stature is defined by the amount of trophies (i.e., skulls, spinal columns, etc.) they’re able to collect.

That’s the plot, and it’s a brilliant setup.

Robert Rodriguez obviously went to a lot of trouble to try and generate an atmosphere that accurately mimics what we see in the original Predator, and he’s able to nail many of the elements necessary to do this.  For example, the soundtrack is an exact replica of what we experienced in 1987, complete with the familiar tribal (yet brooding) orchestral notes.  There’s an effort made to duplicate the dialogue too, and at one point Brody directly quotes Mr. Schwarzenegger when he shouts, “Kill me!  I’m here!”  This is a bit of a nitpick, but Rodriguez also seems to have made the decision to liberally utilize “F-bombs,” incorporating the expletive into every other instance of macho banter.  What he seems to have missed, though, is that that sort of language was actually sparingly used in the original.  Really, it doesn’t appear with any sort of authority until Arnold uses it for one of the funniest, most unforgettable lines in movie history (which also appears only in the last moments of the original): “You are one ugly motherf***er.”

So, in all, Rodriguez is able to sporadically bottle a little of the magic found in the original, though this tactic eventually starts to feel more like a rip-off than anything else.

Also much like its predecessor, it’s quite a while before we even see any of the predators themselves.  Everyone going to see Predators knows who the real stars should be, so there’s no discernible reason to withhold them from our view for a solid twenty-plus minutes.  I understand that Rodriguez and Antal were trying to build tension the old-fashioned way, but delaying their arrival with that of predator “hounds” felt a little hokey.

But let me get to my real beef with the film—that of squandered potential—by giving you two examples.

The first deals with Hanzo, the aforementioned Yakuza member.  Much like Billy in the first film, he decides to do battle with a predator one-on-one.  Drawing a centuries old samurai sword, the two duel under moonlight in a clearing featuring waist-high grass that’s fluttering in the breeze.  This battle lasts for no more than two minutes (that’s being generous), and it’s horribly choreographed.  In fact, the predator in this scene looks goofy as he assumes a ninja stance, waiting patiently for his enemy to charge.  How much better would it have been if, you know, a credible stunt person (or someone who’s able to coordinate such maneuvers) developed a five-minute clash that really tested the mettle of these two warriors?  Instead of this, we’re given three stunted “hee-yaw!”s and are made to cringe as the two run past each other and prepare for another passive charge.  The concept of this sequence is a great idea, but it never gets off the ground.

In another instance, our collection of anti-heroes is chased by an alien that appears to be intelligent and is not one of the predators.  After a brief scuffle, they gather around its corpse and muse, “Hm, it was being hunted too.”  This is the only instance in the film where we see that humans are not the only species being treated as game on this inhospitable planet—a fact that’s alluded to in the extraordinarily underrated Predator 2.  How cool would it have been if even a small sampling of the various creatures trapped in this particular scenario managed to team up and work together?  How much more would this have highlighted the dominance of the predators as the ultimate alien killing machines?  And how much more character development would this have provided for our leads?

That brings me to another problem with the film.  Though the predators are obviously what we’re here to see, none of the protagonists are memorable.  Really, the most interesting is a nutty fella named Noland (Laurence Fishburne), but he’s underutilized in the most disgraceful ways.  He’s best compared to Tim Robbins’ character in Spielberg’s re-imagining of War of the Worlds, though he’s not nearly as interesting.

I haven’t even touched on the lack of truly disturbing gore in Predators (think of the scene in the original film where Hawkins is gutted and his bowels are visible only for a split-second) or how unsatisfying the conclusion is—or how much of it reminds me of certain elements found in the first AvP offering—but you get the picture.  In all honesty, I’ll probably buy Predators when it’s released on Blu-ray simply because I’m a completionist, but its seeming inability to fully take advantage of the otherwise clever plot ideas contained therein will forever relegate it to the maddening status of a decent movie that should have been truly great.

out of 5

–Chris Flowers

Rated R.

Check out a trailer for Predators:

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Hang on Lady, We Go For a Ride

It takes a lot for me to designate a thriller as utterly and completely mesmerizing, but such is the case with the 1997 Kurt Russell vehicle Breakdown.  I stumbled upon this gem when it was released on VHS some 10+ years ago, and, as I recently browsed the somewhat deflated selection of films available in my “Watch Instantly” Netflix queue, decided to give it another go.  Once again diving headlong into this ballet of desert highway carnage was like getting reacquainted with an old friend; consequently, this has caused me to lament the stale-by-comparison state of many recent “road rage thrillers” offered up by Hollywood.

If you’ve never seen Breakdown, it could be described as a more intelligent version of Joy Ride (or, perhaps, The Hitcher).  It’s about a married couple named Jeff (Russell) and Amy (Quinlan) who are driving cross country—from Boston to San Diego—to take on more lucrative employment opportunities.  Along the way, they almost collide with a local in a pick-up truck on a remote desert highway.  When they stop at the next gas station, the fella driving the truck—a black-clad hombre with a handlebar mustache and a cowboy hat—proceeds to chew out Jeff for his idiotic behavior behind the wheel.  The two eventually call a truce, part ways, and go about their lives.  It’s not long, however, before Jeff’s brand new Jeep inexplicably breaks down.  As the couple is trying to assess the situation, a man in an 18-wheeler stops, offers assistance, and eventually ends up suggesting the pair ride with him to the nearest town so they can call a tow truck.  Jeff is leery about leaving his car on the side of a highway with a local lunatic on the prowl, so Amy hops in the semi, presumably to wait for her husband at a diner as he figures out what to do.  Once she leaves, Jeff discovers the problem, fixes the car, and heads to the diner.  When he gets there, though, Amy is nowhere to be found.  The locals have no idea who she is, and they all claim to have never seen her.  What ensues is a maddeningly wild goose chase across barren southwestern terrain as Jeff does everything in his power to find his spouse.

There are twists and turns aplenty, and the action is great.  The most disturbing thing about the film is how genuine it all seems. I have no trouble believing that something like this could (and perhaps has) occur in such remote locales, and there’s a real sense of desperation to everything that’s unfolding. Russell is great as the panicked husband who knows he’s going to have to take things to the extreme to get his wife back, and almost—almost—every one of his decisions seems completely rational.  The movie does give way to certain conventions from time to time, and I wish it would’ve built up the paranoia just a little longer before the “big reveal” occurs (a la Arlington Road), but there’s no denying the intensity on display here.

That being said, who’s ready for a road trip?

out of 5

–Chris Flowers

Check out a trailer for Breakdown:

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