Movie Meg

The Game of Shadows is Afoot

2012-01-04T21:49:00.009-07:00

Director Guy Ritchie’s latest foray into the Holmesian hemisphere pits the world’s most famous detective against his greatest nemesis, source material against reimaginings, and deductions against explosions, culminating in a sometimes problematic slant on “The Final Problem.” But what Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows lacks in canonicity, it begins to make up for in chutzpah.

I will continue to defend Robert Downey Jr.’s initial portrayal of Sherlock Holmes in the 2009 film as a unique performance that is closer to book-accurate than many viewers may realize. For some fans, Basil Rathbone is the Holmes-shaped yardstick by which all deerstalker-donning detectives are measured, while Jeremy Brett is the Sherlockian litmus for others; there’s a range of what constitutes “right” for Sherlock Holmes and Ritchie’s original movie fell somewhere in the margins. But in A Game of Shadows, RDJ doesn’t just stretch the tenuous ties to canon, he gleefully snaps them. This Sherlock Holmes is almost a parody of his own eccentric incarnation from two years before, verging on caricature and buffoonery. I’m trying to tamp down my inner purist, but Sherlock Holmes is not comic relief. Harrumph.

But, of course, Holmes is lost without his Boswell, and Jude Law performs admirably--yet again--as Dr. Watson. His portrayal is quiet compared to RDJ’s, but builds an incredibly likable, rough-and-tumble Watson. The duo’s bromance--for lack of a better word--is touted as one of the film’s draws. Their sniping happily mellows somewhere in the middle of the movie and I was once again not only convinced of their friendship, but also reminded why I enjoy these two characters so much.

Much as Holmes thrills in the chase, Ritchie seems to relish thumbing his nose at the purists and at some moments all but eliminates the “bro” part of the bromance equation. Suggesting that Holmes and Watson are lovers is not a new interpretation, but this film’s stance is odd in that its subtext verges on outright text without ever truly making a statement. In 1891, there would likely be much fan waving and monocle popping at the sight of two men waltzing together, but the movie dances around their relationship in such a way that it fails to make any assertion and stumbles into an awkwardly anemic sort of homoeroticism.

To put a finer point on it, A Game of Shadows is hobbled by incongruity in tone, character, and theme. Some expressively melancholic moments in the final act are barely given time to breathe before jokes are cracked or hijinks ensue.

Then again, this film doesn’t take itself seriously, and perhaps I shouldn’t either. Rising alongside any pratfalls were scenes, exchanges, and characters I honestly loved. Hans Zimmer’s compositions and the Foley artists’ effects, especially during the chase through the forest, add an invigorating and atmospheric aural element. I always enjoy Ritchie’s unique cinematography--if frenetic and dripping with slo-mo--stark visuals, and plainly fun action sequences. Despite minor roles, Kelly Reilly and Rachel McAdams are welcome returnees and Stephen Fry is especially suited to play Mycroft Holmes. Though, he is tasked with some rather un-Mycrofty moments. Oh, hey again, inner purist. Didn’t see you creep up.

Jared Harris plays a fine Moriarty, at once a mild-mannered math professor and chillingly cruel villain, without being too mustache-twisty. Harris truly sold the icy tension, the carefully restrained yet intense feelings of rivalry sliding just below the surface. Even knowing how Reichenbach Falls would play out, the famous scene unfolded with an applaudable combination of tension, exposition, mental sparring, and physical action. I wasn’t entirely sold on either Holmes’ or Moriarty’s extraordinary cunning and wits in this film--largely because of the general emphasis on fisticuffs over sleuthing--so their conflict coming to a head through Holmes-o-vision felt appropriate.

One wonderful thing about the seminal stories is that they offer a deep well from which new details can be gleaned and new yarns can be spun, and I enjoy these films’ confident willingness to tread along the fringes of Arthur Conan Doyle’s work. Though Sherlock Holmes’ incarnations may don many new disguises, he must remain the famous consulting detective underneath. This film’s Sherlock Holmes comes close to being present only in name, but I’m cautiously hopeful for his return.

**Medium with a Refill**

Spoiler Rant:

What’s that sound?
Why, it’s the tooting of my own horn! I designed a Sherlock Holmes t-shirt; I hope you will wear it proudly with your iconic yet not really canonical deerstalker.

Holmes and Watson get steamy.
Steampunky, that is. But the automobiles and weapons are just close enough to being historically accurate that they seem unintentionally anachronistic. Feel free to correct me hotly, history buffs. One thing I do know: Watson did not invent CPR. I guess they couldn’t have the good doctor merely wring his hands and fret Holmes’ heart into resuscitating itself.

Cake or death?
So the cake bomb in the hotel was orchestrated to cover up a shooting? I believe the phrase, “What better way to disguise a killing than with an explosion” is uttered. Yes! Draw attention away from murder with a different manner of murder--ingenious!

Chekhov’s got a gun.
I love the notion of Chekhov’s gun, I really do. Playwright Anton Chekhov said that, "One must not put a loaded rifle on the stage if no one is thinking of firing it." In other words, any seemingly irrelevant detail that is introduced must later become significant to the narrative. It’s a sort of foreshadowing technique that discourages the inclusion of unnecessary elements. Holmes’ adrenaline experiment and Mycroft’s personal oxygen supply, for instance, follow this concept. How not to do it: The “twins” were incorporated so minutely that referencing them later was more of a “huh?” than an “ah ha!” moment.

Canon fodder.
The original stories are not without their less-than-awesome moments. Remember Colonel Sebastian Moran? Moriarty’s sidekick who is an expert sniper and marksman? Well, guess how he tries to take out Holmes as the detective struggles up the ledge at Reichenbach Falls. By throwing rocks at him. Mother. Flippin’. Rocks.

(Images courtesy of Warner Bros. and www.webweaver.nu)

2010: Year in Review

2011-02-24T21:45:00.009-07:00

How many movies did you watch last year? I saw 77. That’s about a week straight of movie-watching. Despite lo these many films, I failed to see all ten Best Picture nominees. So, from the slice I sampled, I offer you crumbs of the best and worst among last year’s new releases and films “new to me”.

Best of 2010
Inception
Inception is ambitious - narratively and visually - and brings something unique to a table sagging under the weight of remakes. The film’s complex dream within a dream story-telling could easily spiral into murky confusion, but Nolan leaves flying off the rails to trains instead of the narrative. Who knew repeatedly watching a van careen off a bridge in slo-mo (passengers snoozing away) would be gripping and somehow not silly?

Overall the movie is so refreshingly engaging, I soon forget its detractors, like few fleshed-out characters and ridiculously arbitrary dream rules. I’m training my subconscious security system to make intruders spontaneously combust or, say, implode instead of shooting at them willy-nilly whilst skiing.

Perhaps the greatest thing about Inception is the glorious slew of trailer mash-ups that sprung up thanks, once again, to the Internet. If you enjoyed Inception, I must recommend eXistenZ, which tackles similar ideas of reality in a campy, science fiction-y, and extremely successful way.

Worst of 2010
Clash of the Titans

I went into Clash of the Titans expecting stupid action, bad CGI, and even worse acting and boy did it deliver. Delivered like a cold pizza. The only thing duller than this brainless adventure movie’s special effects is its characters. Sam Worthington is capable of two expressions: angry and yelly (see above). I’ll consider adding brow-furrowy to his repertoire...maybe.

The trailers for Clash of the Titans are easily more entertaining than the movie itself. Picture Liam Neeson, with his twinkling robes and becurled beard, ordering “Release the Kraken!” with dramaticism that vainly struggles against an indomitable flood of hokeyness. Then, a flurry of noise as the word “Titans” slams on the screen, followed by “Will” and finally...the suspense! “Clash”! Amazing. Who would’ve thought Titans will clash in a film entitled "Clash of the Titans"? If only every trailer were so luminous. Penguins will march! Jedi will return! Miss Daisy will be driven!

Best New-Old Movie
Up in the Air

Any film wherein George Clooney pulls off a character who is more than just a derivation of George Clooney has to be good. On top of that, Clooney (as Ryan Bingham) finds himself in equally good company. Vera Farmiga and Anna Kendrick trot out solid performances as Bingham’s mercurial flame and his junior colleague/protégé, respectively. Clooney and Kendrick’s partnership drips with chemistry yet remains refreshingly platonic, promoting a male-female dynamic that Hollywood woefully underplays. This is what Up in the Air excels at: sometimes humorous, sometimes dramatic, but always honest human interaction. The viewer may occasionally desire Bingham’s plush first-class seats and estimable career, yet he is completely unenviable in his solitude.

If, years from now, we look to the cinema for an example of today’s financial incertitude and e-driven landscape, this film would be ideal. Though Bingham is largely moored in emotional isolation, the film closes with a sort of creeping cheerfulness, which left me looking up.

Worst New-Old Movie
Closer

Few things ruin a movie more than my expectations being crushed flatter than Sam Worthington’s thespian range. Two things drew me closer (har har) to this film: Jude Law and Natalie Portman, actors whose performances I widely enjoy. And, hey, they’re easy on the eyes, am I right? Sadly, the strengths of Closer start and end there. The quartet (including Julia Roberts and Clive Owen) are capable artists, but their characters (no matter how well-acted) are spiteful and unsympathetic. Beautiful but ugly. Not only are the characters plainly unlikeable, but they feel more like caricatures than real people. The dialogue, while eloquent and enjoyable, enhances the characters’ inauthenticity. Who, after being hit by a car, still sprawled on the ground, calmly quips, “Hello, stranger” to the first person who rushes over? I mean really?

The characters’ motives are so incomprehensible, their reasoning so unbelievable, that I cared very little about them individually, much less about their muddled relationships and shared indiscretions. In fact, I nearly wished for them all to wind up miserable and alone. Is this what the film intended? Selfishness and deceit reap what they sow? Maybe. All told, Closer swallows fine performances, parades its self-importance, and rings utterly hollow.

And there you have it - Movie Meg’s 2010 review! Can I watch more than 77 films this year? Challenge accepted.

(Images courtesy of Warner Bros., Paramount Pictures, Columbia Pictures, and www.webweaver.nu)

Iron Man Deconstructed

2010-05-17T21:48:00.017-07:00

As the wise Yahtzee once said of sequelitis, "A good sequel is one that uses the original as a jumping off point for a whole new story...while a bad sequel merely wallows in the original like a hippo." Iron Man 2 isn't a bad movie, but Iron Man set the bar so high that even if Robert Downey Jr. appeared naked in every scene, the sequel wouldn't vault past my expectations. It's not you, Iron Man, baby, it's me.

Read on, if you will, as I explore, dissect, applaud, nitpick, and otherwise discuss Iron Man 2. The following contains more spoilers than the Monaco Grand Prix. (Cut me some slack, I'm a little rusty.)

(Photo at full awesomeness capacity, Gwyneth and Mickey omitted)

Arcs: For reactors only, no characters allowed

My biggest beef is that every character emerges the same person in the same situation as they were at the close of the first film; the sequel focuses on fluff and slick effects, leaving its characters to stagnate. Tony Stark is publicly Iron Man. Iron Man is (mostly) lauded as a hero. Pepper is Tony's assistant, again. Rhodey remains Tony's straight-laced friend. S.H.I.E.L.D. continues to vet Tony for the Avengers team. It's a series, not a campsite, we don't have to leave it how we found it.

The exploration of Tony's character is largely what endeared Iron Man to me and helped the original establish itself as a comic film a breed apart. Tony was an arrogant man humbled by a traumatic situation. He faced a crossroads, forced to humanize and personalize the consequences of his work, and strove to do right for perhaps the first time in his life. In Iron Man 2, Tony's progression is a flatline. Even faced with impending death, his personality scarcely changes in the long run. He does use his ego as a facade to hide his fears, which is an interesting, albeit brief, deviation for the cocksure hero.

As always, RDJ's performance as Tony Stark is the highlight of the film, delivered with verve and smarmy panache. Downey's Tony is quirky and completely endearing. Particularly enjoyable is his rapid-fire banter, especially opposite Gwyneth Paltrow and Sam Rockwell (though the talking-over-each-other shtick does grow a bit tiresome).

It's my party and I'll pee in my suit if I want to

Besides "Robot Rock" and Paltrow's delivery of, "You just peed the suit", the birthday party scene really gets my goat. First, how does Rhodey even put on the Mark II armor? His access to the lab is established, OK, but anyone who strolls in can don a suit? Why would Tony build arc reactors to independently power each set of armor when he didn't intend for (and was adamantly against) others using his technology? How is Rhodey so expert at maneuvering the suit when it's his first time wearing it? Iron Man devoted a good chunk of time to Tony learning how to pilot the armor; Rhodey's ease flies in the face of the film's own canon. Is Jarvis assisting Rhodey too? Why do the repulsor beams look like a move straight out of Dragon Ball Z? How many questions can I fit in this segment?

Iron Man's a Man's Man

I'm not among Marvel's target demographic, I get that, but I'm convinced Jon Favreau sat down with a twelve-pack and "the guys" to compose a list of "Stuff Dudes Love", then included absolutely every item in the film: expensive cars, racing, cheerleaders, big guns, fighting robots, explosions, Jon Favreau, boxing, Scarlett Johansson's boobs. I don't know where I'm going with this except to say the testosterone baiting was a little excessive.

Who's afraid of the Big Bad Rourke?

Perhaps the Iron Man series' greatest weakness is its lack of a good arch-nemesis. When the comics give you Fin Fang Foom - an alien dragon from the planet Maklu IV - and this guy to choose from...well, they ain't exactly the Joker.

That being said, Mickey Rourke is entertaining as Ivan Vanko; he's imposing, slightly deranged and majorly creepy. Vanko's clearly a cool guy too, as evidenced by the many explosions he did not look at. Despite Rourke's impressive presence, the narrative fails to maintain tension between the hero and the villain, especially considering Tony believes Vanko to be dead for the majority of the film. Iron Man 2 doesn't learn from its past mistakes and wraps up with another rushed and anti-climatic boss battle; even the lead-up to Justin Hammer's Expo reveal was meandering.

I must tip my hat to Rockwell's hilarious performance as Justin Hammer. Hammer's rivalry with Stark, his poorly received speeches, his pitch for the "Ex-Wife" - what's not to love?

Still, Jeff Bridges as Obadiah Stane reigns supreme in the realm of awesome Iron Man baddies.

The spy who didn't do much

I was trepidatious about the addition of Scarlett Johansson as Natasha/Black Widow; there are few tropes I've grown more tired of than the ol' love triangle. Sometime mid-movie I realized Natasha's role wasn't as love rival and thought happily to myself, "ScarJo's not so bad, why, she's barely said a thing!..Wait, this is something to be happy about?" Truth is, Natasha doesn't play much of a part at all beyond eye candy. Her personality and contribution to the plot is so marginal, why include her in the first place?

Extra Pepperony

Enough complaining, I've saved the best for last. I love Tony Stark. I love Pepper Potts. I love 'em together. Honestly, I probably would've been happy if the entire movie was these two locked in a room bickering. Every scene with Tony and Pepper is sharp and delightful, both jockeying for the upper hand with their verbal sparring. Nothing made this fangirl quite as happy as them finally snogging...except maybe the omelette scene. Hey, where's my "You complete me" line from the trailer? Shenanigans!

Iron Man 2 may have fallen a little short of my lofty expectations, but far be it from me to turn my nose up at a perfectly good piece of pie simply because I was hoping for cake. No doubt I will want to see the film again (and again) and allow myself to simply sit back and enjoy the ride.

**Large**

(Images courtesy of Paramount Pictures, Marvel, and www.webweaver.nu)

X-Men Origins: Wolverine: The Parody: Extraneous Colons

2009-06-02T22:27:00.014-07:00

See that teeny heading in my blog banner that reads "movie reviews & parodies"? Not being one to let a perfectly good ampersand go to waste, I bring you the premier Movie Meg brand movie parody. Spoilers ahoy!

X-MEN ORIGINS: WOLVERINE

[PROVINCE OF CANADA, EARLY 1800's]

BABY WOLVERINE
Hi! I'm Jimmy...apparently. I'm sick all the time but this is in no way relevant to the plot; I laugh at Chekhov's gun, ha HA!

WOLVERINE'S FATHER
*Killed by Dude*

WOLVERINE
Khaaan! I mean, Daaad!

DUDE
No. I am your father.

WOLVERINE
No. That's not true! That's impossible!
*Stabs Dude with bone claws*

VICTOR
Cool, I'm your brother! Let's have a montage.

[WOLVERINE AND VICTOR SLO-MO THROUGH LOTS OF WARS, INCLUDING THE AMERICAN CIVIL WAR]

VICTOR
Aren't we Canadian?

WOLVERINE
Only when it's funny.

VICTOR
Oh. Excuse me while I blatantly establish my role as the bad guy.

COLONEL STRYKER
So I hear you guys have mutant powers?

VICTOR
I can grow my nails really long.

STRYKER
Uh, cool...I guess that's better than marginally above-average marksmanship.

AGENT ZERO
Hey!

STRYKER
Join my team that was in no way chosen by picking leftover-mutants-yet-to-appear-in-a-film from a hat.

JOHN WRAITH
I have Nightcrawler's power but with low budget CGI and no BAMPF! sound effect.

BOLT
I control electricity when I pretend to concentrate real hard and touch my fingers to my temples.

DEADPOOL
I make even the lamest lines initially seem funny only by virtue of being Ryan Reynolds.

ME
Ha ha...waaait.

BLOB
I get really fat later.

WOLVERINE
Damn, this is like the Celebrity Boxing of mutant teams. Peace out!

[CANADA, YEARS LATER]

WOLVERINE
Hey! I'm Logan now...apparently. I sleep all night and I work all day. I cut down trees, I skip and jump, I love to press wild flowers. I put on women's clothing and-

ME
We get it, you're a lumberjack. Save the singing for the Academy Awards.

KAYLA
Hi, I'm the expendable love interest. Did you hear the Native tale of the wolverine and the moon as separated lovers? Isn't that tragic?

WOLVERINE
Yeah, tragic that my name has such a lame origin. I really hoped it had something to do with Red Dawn.

KAYLA
Gee, I wonder if I fall under the "Women in Refrigerators" trope?

VICTOR
Rawr!

KAYLA
Oh no! I'm totally dead now.

WOLVERINE
Khaaan! I mean, Kaaayla! I'll just leave your body to rot in the woods now.

KAYLA
Toootally dead.

WOLVERINE
Grrr! Fighting! Vengeance!

VICTOR
*Scratches Wolverine*

WOLVERINE
Ow! That kinda hurt. Is that bleeding? No, no I guess it's all right. Ouch though!

STRYKER
I can help you beat Victor by bonding adamantium to your bones. I'm completely trustworthy!

WOLVERINE
You know, I think the other three X-Men movies may have touched on this subject - seems like a bad idea. Then again, I've been through worse.

SCIENTIST LADY FROM TRAILER
No you haven't. Oooh menacing!

WOLVERINE
Nothing's worse than Swordfish.

[WOLVERINE AGREES TO THE EXPERIMENT AND IS STRAPPED INTO A TANK OF WATER FOR UNKNOWN, SCIENCEY REASONS]

EVERY FEMALE AUDIENCE MEMBER
Damn you, conveniently placed groin strap. Damn yoou!

STRYKER
Yay, it worked! Now kill him.

WOLVERINE
*Springs from the tank, naked. Nakedly fights off the bad guys, jumps naked into a waterfall, and finally escapes to a barn. Naked*

OLD MAN
Howdy, hairy naked stranger. Have my son's leather jacket.

PAUL HARVEY
And now you know the rest of the story.

ME
Not really, seeing as Wolverine's amnesic and not wearing the jacket at the end of the film.

WOLVERINE
Really? Of all the plot holes, that's the one you harp on?

OLD LADY
I've brought tea! And bullets...
*Dies*

OLD MAN
*Dies too*

WOLVERINE
Khaa- ah, forget it.

[INSERT ACTION SCENE OF WOLVERINE FIGHTING OFF STRYKER'S GOONS HERE]

ME
Let's see, on my "Cliche Action Sequence Bingo" card I've got: car chase, helicopter chase, "The Stormtrooper Effect", defying laws of physics, and walking away from an explosion in slo-mo. Damn, I only need "crappy one-liner for trailer/commercial fodder" to win.

WOLVERINE
You wanted the animal, Colonel. You got it.

ME
Yay!

DIRECTOR GAVIN HOOD
I know what this film's missing: a boxing match!

EVERYONE
No.

[BOXING SCENE REPRESSED]

[WOLVERINE HEADS TO NEW ORLEANS IN SEARCH OF GAMBIT, THE MUTANT WHO CAN LEAD HIM TO STRYKER'S SECRET HIDEOUT]

GAMBIT
Mon dieu! I say to you, homme, you're askin'-

WOLVERINE
Whoa whoa whoa, Gumbo! That's way too in-character; tone it down.

GAMBIT
OK, how about I use this vaguely hickish accent and a pimp cane?

VICTOR
Rawr!

[BURLY, HAIRY, CLAWY FISTICUFFS ENSUES. JUST AS WOLVERINE IS POISED TO DELIVER THE COUP DE GRACE...]

GAMBIT
I'm somehow convinced that you're working for Stryker despite actively combating my known enemy/Stryker lackey. Fear my twirly staff, Wolverine!

VICTOR
*Scampers away*

WOLVERINE
I'm a good guy.

GAMBIT
Cool. Then I'll help you get to Stryker's hideout to defeat him and Victor.

WOLVERINE
You want to help me kill Victor?

GAMBIT
Yep.

WOLVERINE
The guy I was just about to shish kebab before you stopped me?

GAMBIT
Yes.

WOLVERINE
...

[GAMBIT FLIES WOLVERINE TO STRYKER'S HIDEOUT ON THREE MILE ISLAND]

KAYLA
I'm alive! Now help me rescue Emma Frost and Cyclops from meaningless cameos.

EMMA
Since when does my "diamond-hard skin" equal "more diamond-encrusted than a rapper's grill"?

WEAPON XI
Rawr!

WOLVERINE
Who the hell are you?

STRYKER
Him? Oh, this is the super mutant I've created, aka Weapon XI, aka formerly Deadpool, aka character we fucked up so badly he gets a spin-off as an apology. Sorry, Gambit, you were a close second.

GAMBIT
Merde.

WOLVERINE
Are those retractable katanas? How do you bend your arms?!

WEAPON XI
*Shrugs*

[WOLVERINE AND WEAPON XI CROCHET MITTENS FOR THEIR SPIKEY APPENDAGES WHEN...THAT CAN'T BE RIGHT. OH YES...FIGHTING. THEY FIGHT.]

VICTOR
Rawr! I'm here to help you, bro, by luring Weapon XI to the most inconvenient, contrived fighting arena ever.

WOLVERINE
Sure, that makes sense. Nice character arc.

[WOLVERINE AND VICTOR CUT WEAPON XI DOWN TO SIZE. OH HO! PUNS!]

AUDIENCE
Can you put us out of our misery too?

STRYKER
Damn you, Logan! I would've gotten away with it too, if it weren't for you meddling mutants! Fine, I'll have to shoot you with this adamantium bullet.

SCIENTIST LADY FROM TRAILER
*Whispers*

STRYKER
What's that..? "Wolverine", "Were-wolverine", same difference.
*Shoots Wolverine in the head*

ABSOLUTELY NO ONE
Is he dead? Suspense!

KAYLA
Oh no, Wolvie! Stryker, using my mutant powers, I command you to walk away and keep walking until you reach X2.

STRYKER
On an island? Uh, OK. I'll get right on that.
*He does...somehow*

KAYLA
I'm dead, for reals this time.
*Dies*

WOLVERINE
Damn, I can't remember a thing about what just happened!

ME
You lucky, lucky bastard.

-END-

**Small**

(Images courtesy of 20th Century Fox and www.webweaver.nu)

Lozenge?

2009-05-20T21:51:00.004-07:00

I hear they have the same voice coach.

(Images courtesy of Warner Bros. and www.1001fonts.com)

Watchmen: Graphic and Novel!

2009-05-07T13:04:00.011-07:00

Meg's Journal. March 7th, 2009: Old popcorn in theater this evening, spilled soda on sticky floor. Watchmen is watched by me. I have seen its many hours. The scenes are extended slo-mo and the slo-mo is full of blood and when the credits finally roll, all the moviegoers will clamor. The accumulated hype of all the montages and monologues will foam up about their mouths and all the fanboys and critics will look up and shout "Frontal nudity!"...and I'll look down and whisper "Meh."

Yeah...guess who saw Watchmen.

Obligatory "Lower Manhattan" joke

Director Zack Snyder's latest venture adapts Alan Moore's nichely popular graphic novel of the same name to the silver screen. Boiled down, Watchmen follows a group of former superheroes (minus the superpowers) who find one of their own murdered. The threadbare heroes suspect further attacks on so-called "masks" but have bigger matters to worry about, namely, the escalation of a nuclear standoff between the U.S. and Russia.

Inevitably, comparisons will be drawn between the film and the graphic novel. Unlike standard novels adapted to film, graphic novels already visually interpret everything for the reader. So the movie becomes less about, "That's not how I imagined the Balrog!" and more a matter of: how faithfully is the story preserved, do the actors well-represent their characters, does the cinematography reflect the style of the art, and can the uninitiated viewer enjoy the film in and of itself? For the most part, Watchmen holds up on these counts, but the movie is only as good as its source; which is to say, the graphic novel's pedestal is debatable.

Visually, Watchmen is rather beautiful, in its own dreary, wow-that's-a-lot-of-blood kind of way. The opening credit sequence is perhaps the highlight of the film, providing richly colored, detailed tableaux that masterfully illustrate what would've otherwise been cumbersome exposition.

True to form, Snyder slathers on the slo-mo like it's going out of style, so much so that it becomes tedious and even dilutes the adrenaline of action scenes. I'd like to give Snyder the benefit of the doubt and say that utilizing slo-mo emulates the experience of reading a graphic novel by allowing the viewer to linger as they would on a comic panel...Nah. He's just really enamored with slo-mo.

Complementary to the hypnotizing visuals is an equally impressive soundtrack, from Jimi Hendrix to the Philip Glass Ensemble. In a way, the music borders on too remarkable, often interjecting and distracting from the substance of a scene. Much like-

♫ My backpack's got jets. I'm Boba the Fett. I bounty hunt for Jabba Hutt to finance my 'Vette♫

Hey, that's a good song! Waaait...knock it off, soundtrack! I'm trying to do a review here. Jeez.

Anyway. Alongside its ubiquitous smiley face, Rorschach is iconic of Watchmen: a fan favorite atypical antihero. Not only does Jackie Earle Haley look the part, but also expertly breathes life into the integral character. Jackie delivers Rorschach's more memorable quotes with just the right emphasis, omitted articles and all. Rorschach's scenes with his therapist are somewhat truncated but even dyed-in-the-wool fans should be pleased with the performance. This is fortunate - the world can't take another fan uprising like "Jar Jar Binksgate". Jeffrey Dean Morgan also portrays the Comedian to a tee; his rakish countenance misled me to believe Robert Downey Jr. landed a role in Watchmen, but he still deserves props. Matthew Goode as Ozymandias is a bit too foppish and Malin Akerman's Silk Spectre is too I-can't-act-my-way-out-of-a-paper-bag, but the cast as a whole is fairly solid.

What remained on the cutting room floor-

♫ All right stop, collaborate, and listen, Ice is back with my brand new invention ♫

Dammit, soundtrack! See what I mean?

As I was saying. Many scenes of the 400-something page graphic novel obviously didn't make it to the big screen, but the majority of edits were wisely chosen. Occasionally, dialogue seemed throwaway or offhanded to friends unfamiliar with the novel, and the revelation of the Comedian's relationship to a fellow mask came off as melodramatic without its developed back-story.

Ultimately, both incarnations of Watchmen have their own merits: it's not the end-all-be-all of comics as some would purport, but is a unique and refreshing alternative to the mainstream. Even comic non-enthusiasts may be inspired to pick up the graphic novel after viewing its film. As Moore would say, "There is something about the quality of comics that makes things possible that you couldn't do in any other medium. Things that we did in Watchmen on paper could be frankly horrible or sensationalist or unpleasant if you were to interpret them literally through the medium of cinema...It's not the same when you're being dragged through it at 24 frames per second."

**Medium with a refill (refill = 1/2 "star" on the scale, ha HA!)**

Spoiler Rant:

As for the oft-discussed Giant Squid ending, I absolutely prefer the movie's finale. Despite being a story about "super" heroes, Dr. Manhattan is the only character with actual superpowers. How he receives his abilities is about as far-fetched as a radioactive spider bite, but the story maintains a pseudo-scientific, non-magical explanation for its universe. Even Rorschach's shifting mask has no paranormal properties. Yet, I'm supposed to buy the idea that Ozy's DIY Catastrophic Calamari's destructive capabilities are thanks to a psychic? Sorry, but my Suspension of Disbelief Account has been overdrawn.

Yes, it really did take me two months to crank this out. Go me.

(Images courtesy of Warner Bros. and www.webweaver.nu)

From My Arc Reactor to Yours

2009-02-11T23:33:00.010-07:00

I bet by now you're beginning to think:

“Wow, Movie Meg doesn't like any new films!”
“All Movie Meg does is complain!”
“Movie Meg conjures imaginary dialogue for her non-existent fanbase!”

Well, contrary to what's been evidenced so far, I adore and am mildly obsessed with Iron Man.

I picked up some spiffy “3-D” Iron Man valentines but they were distinctly lacking in the Robert Downey Jr. department. So to show just how much I dig Iron Man, my readers, and RDJ, please enjoy these valentines I cobbled together.

Happy Valentine's Day!

(Images, fonts, and brushes courtesy of Paramount Pictures, Marvel, Seishido, and Blambot)

Thumbs Down for Down Under Flick

2009-02-07T21:54:00.016-07:00

Roger Ebert describes Baz Luhrmann's Australia as “epic” and “sweeping”, which I can only assume is code for “tedious” and “so long you'd think it was filmed in real time”. Much as Nicole Kidman's Lady Sarah Ashley likens herself to Dorothy who's swept to the mysterious land of “Oz”, I too felt myself in Dorothy's ruby-bedecked shoes. Only, I wished I could escape from the meandering melodrama with a click of my heels and the words, “There's no place like home, where I could be watching something entertaining from Netflix.”

This is pretty much the whole movie...

Australia is a madcap adventure about an English aristocrat who inherits her husband's cattle station. With the help of a rugged and roguishly charming Drover (Hugh Jackman), they foil cattle barons plotting to take her land after a grueling drive across the outback. No! It's a classic, melodramatic love story: Gone with the Wind meets Crocodile Dundee. Wait, maybe it's a historical imagining of the Japanese attack on Darwin during World War II?

Actually, Australia is a Frankenstein mash-up of all these plot elements. Instead of weaving multiple themes into a complexly layered tale, the result is incohesive and strained. It's as though Luhrmann desperately wants to illustrate each idea but flips the station with ADD-like freneticism.

The characters themselves are not exempt from lack of focus. Lady Sarah Ashley wears so many hats (literally, what a wardrobe!) that it's difficult to warm up to her; at one moment she's painfully fey, then bold and independent with no real transition. Jackman sticks to what he does best, namely taking off his shirt and looking scruffily handsome (no complaints here), but the Drover never quite sheds his cowboy cliché. While Kidman and Jackman's various performances are usually widely enjoyable, their interaction in Australia lacked much spark. Trailers promised rollicking romance a la Moulin Rouge! but delivered a typical boy-meets-girl from the other side of the tracks who, despite initial antagonism, wind up doing “wrong side business”. Contrary to what Luhrmann may think, umpteen shots of the actors so closeup you can count their pores does not equal romantic chemistry.

Much of the movie is devoted to and narrated by Nullah (Brandon Walters), a “half-caste” boy who struggles to uphold his aboriginal heritage in face of being removed from his family and “re-educated” by the government. This is a tragic yet true example of Australia's “Stolen Generation”. Though Luhrmann rightly denounces this racist policy, Nullah ironically slips into the cinematic “magic negro” role and becomes a mere vehicle to unite Sarah Ashley and the Drover. Also, Walters may be a fine actor, but one more utterance of “cheeky bulls” and I would've found a way to reach through the screen to strangle him.

With a title like “Australia” it didn't seem too much to ask for gorgeous cinematography. A few sweeping wide-angle views of its vibrant namesake perhaps? Yet Luhrmann's usual painterly - almost fantastical - cinematic flair comes across as heavy handed, failing to do justice to the country it's supposed to be celebrating. Australia could have been entirely filmed in front of a green screen for all I could tell. Not only was the digital tweaking obtrusive but, frankly, rather poor. The cattle stampede was so hokey that it rendered the scene comical, not suspenseful.

If you want a poignant story of the Stolen Generation, watch Rabbit-Proof Fence. If you want touching romance between an Englishwoman and an Australian roughneck, read A Town Like Alice. If you want a good example of Luhrmann's oddball talent, rent Moulin Rouge! Just don't pack your bags for Australia.

Remember: friends don't let friends drove drunk, or something...

**Small**

Spoiler Rant:

Poor David Wenham. His villain role is so one-dimensional he might as well have tied Sarah Ashely to a train track whilst twirling his mustache. “Pride ain't power, nyaaah.”

As many devoted interwebites have pointed out (the kind who edit Wikipedia as a hobby, I assume), The Wizard of Oz didn't premiere in Australia until 1940, a year after the film is set. “Oz” is a nickname for Australia, we get it, ha ha, how cute. Please don't subject us to another pointless rendition of “Somewhere ~~Drover~~ Over the Rainbow”. Your allusion is completely inaccurate! Screw artistic license, I hope you get kicked by a kangaroo, Luhrmann. (That totally happens in Australia, right?)

How to make a Baz Luhrmann production:
1) Saturate the opening scenes with bizarre, trippy images and near slapstick comedy
2) Melodramatic romance ensues
3) Main character(s) dies
4) ?
5) Profit!
(e.g.: Romeo + Juliet, Moulin Rouge!, ~~Strictly Ballroom~~, Australia).
“Wait,” you're saying, “no heroes died in Australia.” Au contraire, my intrepid reader. Initially the film concluded with the Drover buying the proverbial farm, but test audiences despised it so much (more than they would've any way) that Luhrmann reworked the ending. The more you know.

(Images courtesy of 20th Century Fox and www.webweaver.nu)

X-Files not quite X-traordinary

2009-01-05T00:47:00.012-07:00

Fondly remembered are the Fridays of my childhood spent watching The X-Files. Each night I huddled in bed, mortally terrified of the latest monster to go bump in the night. Would bugs devour me in the darkness? Maybe a fluke creature was lurking in the bathroom drain. Or was a carnie's ambulatory fetal twin lying beneath my bed, waiting for an unsuspecting host?! Ah, good times.

So it was with nostalgic excitement and high expectations that I trundled to a midnight showing of The X-Files: I Want to Believe. Oh how I wanted to believe.

The film kicks off with the abduction of an FBI agent and a psychic priest claiming he can aid in discovering her whereabouts. To determine if said psychic is legit, the FBI appeals to Mulder for his help because, really, they can't be assed to chase him all over West Virginia any more; it's fucking cold. Mulder gives up on his new hobby of beard cultivation to assist in the investigation. At first Mulder is skeptical of the priest's ability when Father Joe offers the FBI a hand but, psychic or not, he leads them to a body of evidence that really helps the agents get ahead. Meanwhile, Dr. Scully has a crisis of faith, torn over the merit of subjecting a terminally ill child to the rigors of experimental treatment, which remains risky despite the hours spent Googling stem cell research. All of which culminates in a face-off with gay, Russian, psychopathic, Dr. Frankenstein wannabes. Naturally.

I Want to Believe ultimately falls more in the realm of normal than paranormal, offering many elements of a solid mystery but skimping on what makes The X-Files truly X-Files. The film is set post-series yet it fails to explore many ramifications of the closing episodes. After so many years, this fan wanted more than a few winks and a visit from Agent Skinner.

Watching The X-Files week-to-week afforded the surprise of each uniquely new creation Carter conjured. If it wasn't aliens, it was a man who ate human livers, or one's greatest fear brought to life, or any number of grotesque imaginings. I Want to Believe has a psychic. Maybe. Oh and some hinky surgical experiments. Please, that's paranormal small fry. An X-Files movie without something superbly supernatural is about as lackluster as an entire season without Mulder.

Speaking of the foxy Agent Mulder, it is a true treat to watch David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson reprise their classic roles. I Want to Believe finds our heroes turned domestic couple, a welcome, if foreseeable, approach to an already intriguing partnership. As always, Mulder and Scully's interaction is clever and dynamic with the perfect dash of snarky affection.

Taken at face value – a detective mystery with supernatural undertones - I Want to Believe is an engaging enough film, taut and well-paced. Placed in the X-Files universe, it's a supplemental footnote instead of a crowning endnote. An overlong episode, if you will, which, at the end of the day, is better than no X-Files at all.

**Medium**

Spoiler Rant:

I'm extremely disappointed that Xzibit never offered to pimp anyone's ride.

So, a gay, Russian, psychopath and his boyfriend are in the market for a new body. They choose:
A) random girl body
B) David friggin' Duchovny's body.
What? “A”...seriously? I begin to doubt their gayness. And taste in men. Blood type, schmood type, it's David Duchovny!

(Images courtesy of 20th Century Fox, I Can't Believe It's Not Butter, and www.webweaver.nu)

Silly Dark K-nnnigget (/outrageous French accent)

2008-08-09T14:10:00.011-07:00

I considered writing an actual review of this film but seeing as everyone and their parole officer have already added their two (double-sided) cents, what could I possibly contribute? What could I say that no one else has? What makes me different? Wait, there is the fact that...

...I'm not wearing hockey pads.

**Large**

Spoiler Rant:

Batman's “now you see me, now you don't” trick really only works on the camera operators.

Cameraman: Okay, we've got Batman framed in the shot. Switch to Camera 2 for reaction. Now back again to- Ah goddammit, Batman!
Prick.

Gordon: I totally saw him crawl into the dumbwaiter.

Cameraman: ...

Gordon: Can I give my hackneyed speech about heroism now?

(Images courtesy of Warner Brothers and www.webweaver.nu)

Hoo boy, it's Hellboy

2008-08-08T23:08:00.030-07:00

Hellboy II is packed with pleasantly distracting eye candy yet ultimately lacks the meat and potatoes of solid storytelling and character development. It's a visual feast that leaves you hungry for substance. A buffet of blue-screen effects that uh...ok, I've run out of food metaphors.

Much in the vein of Hellboy, its sequel is charged with nonstop action and snappy one liners, except this time with fewer Russians and more elves. New to the mix is director Guillermo del Toro who lends his signature flair for creature creation to the film, reminiscent of his acclaimed Pan's Labyrinth. The menagerie of fantasy beings that populate Hellboy II is truly the highlight of the movie, from the deceptively cute “tooth fairies” to ectoplasmarvelous Johann Krauss.

The film begins with Professor Bruttenholm reading a sweet story from the Big Book O' Expositional Tales O' Foreshadowing about an ancient race of elves. These elves enlisted the help of the goblins to build an indestructible army of golden machines that would quash the humans and end feuding amongst their three races. Years later, the elven prince resurfaces to find and reunite the scattered pieces of his father's crown, which controls the Golden Army. Naturally, he plans to use the army to crush all humans. Hellboy and his BPRD pals combat the prince while facing beasties, public scorn, and love– the biggest challenge of 'em all – along the way.

One interesting question this movie (heck, even its promo posters) raises is: where should Hellboy's allegiance lie? Is he more man or monster? The first half of the film postures Hellboy's identity as a central theme but somewhere along the way this idea becomes a dim undertone lost among the clamorous action. Yes, Hellboy is misunderstood by the general public, especially by my mother, who asks why he has giant corks in his head. Yet Red is shown as being merely perturbed by the name-calling and accusations. When he shows as much emotion over losing an expensive cigar, it's hard to be convinced of his inner angst.

The most conflict Hellboy displays on the matter is brief hesitation in battle and an off-the-cuff remark about fitting in well at Troll Market amongst cathedral-cranium folk and sentient tumors, apparently. With so little introspection and no indication of how Hellboy is ultimately received by the people he protects, the entire film becomes stunted.

To say Hellboy II is predictable is like calling William Shatner a little hammy. The conclusion is broadcasted more than reruns of Full House. As such, even the action scenes lose any edge of suspense as the movie plods its way towards its obvious outcome. While del Toro's skill of crafting creatures shines, it's surprising that his nuanced and poignant storytelling ability, as displayed in The Orphanage, fails to carry through.

Overall, Hellboy II is an entertaining offering of summer fluff. Savor the visual treat, if you can stomach the rest.

**Medium**

Spoiler Rant:

Hey, guys. Raise your hand if the second Nuala's nose started bleeding you knew she'd have to die to defeat her brother. Yeah, I thought so. I'm convinced the crew members watched Fatal Fury and said, “Fuck it! There's our script.”

Red and Liz teach us that it's a-ok to jeopardize the fate of all mankind so long as you've been dating for at least one feature-length film. But Abe and Nuala? Pssh, they've only shared a few scenes of awkward puppy love. Phooey on their love conquers all schtick!

Is Abe's breathing apparatus all for show? A vanity piece in a new line of couture toilet seat collars? Or is he better at holding his breath than video game fans banking on a stellar movie from Uwe Boll?

(Images courtesy of Universal Pictures and www.webweaver.nu. Thank you Jen and Hackosphere!!)

Introduction

2008-08-07T22:31:00.003-07:00

Hi, guys! I'm “Movie” Meg. Here you'll find my reviews, rants, and parodies of new movie releases and the occasional rental.

Instead of a using stars (or thumbs) my popcorn size rating system is as follows, from Three-On-A-Meathook-Bad to Shawshank-Redemption-Awesome:

Kiddie, Small, Medium, Large, and Jumbo.

Refill = 1/2 "star"

Be sure to check back for updates and spiffy graphics. Enjoy the show!