Edge of Darkness

Oh boy!  Looks like it's time for another aging man to take the law into his own hands when bad guys attack his family (see Death Wish, Taken, or Death Sentence for other examples).  Honestly, I am all about revenge as a plot device.  It leads to tough guys being bad-ass and bad guys getting hurt in creative ways.  What's not to like?  Oh, you want character development or subtlety?  Read a book.

Edge of Darkness is the American film version of the classic British television series of the same name.  Boston detective Thomas Craven (Mel Gibson) has just brought his adult daughter (Bojana Novakovic) to his home, from the train station, when she gets sick.  They prepare to rush to the hospital, but when they are on the front stoop of Craven's home, a masked man shouts "Craven!" and shoots...but the daughter Craven gets hit instead of Thomas.  And boy, does she get hit!  Wow.  Yeah, it was a shotgun, but that scene was pretty brutal.  Obviously, the police (and Thomas) work under the assumption that the killer was aiming for Thomas and the daughter was an accidental hit.  At least, that was Craven's assumption, until he discovered that his daughter was radioactive.

Huh?  Radioactive?  Really?  Excuse me, how can radioactivity fit into my can't-miss revenge movie formula?  It can't?  Crap.

Yes, Craven's daughter was radioactive and that's why she was sick.  Now, I think we all know that you don't just accidentally get radiation poisoning (unless you're making the film adaptation of XXX-Ray Love: The Marie and Pierre Curie Story).  There's always some evil corporation and/or government behind it.  Such is the case here.  Jack Bennett (Danny Huston) is in charge of the evil corporation, which has strong ties to the government.  The ties are so strong, in fact, that they receive help from the government, in the form of CIA operative Darius Jedburgh (Ray Winstone).  Darius is the guy you send in to cover things up when you don't care how many bodies pile up, as long as the job gets done.

As soon as Craven realizes that his daughter was practically glowing in the dark, he stops acting as a police officer.  He takes evidence from her apartment and burns it, in case it incriminated her as an environmental activist.  Darius decides to pay Craven a visit at this time; he probably should kill Craven, especially since he's a detective that is clearly veering from the law.  This should be the end of the movie.  But, Darius likes the cut of Craven's jib, apparently, and encourages Craven to do whatever he has to do, by any means necessary.  The second half of the film has Craven doing just that.

I didn't think you could make a revenge movie overcomplicated, but director Martin Campbell made it happen.  I just don't understand it.  If this movie had just made the daughter an innocent victim, then Craven would have had to pummel his way through the undoubtedly enormous backlog of thugs that he sent to prison.  That would have been awesome.

Instead, he "detects" his way around and finds all the answers, nice and neat, relatively quickly and painlessly (aside from his daughter and a few other peripheral characters dying).  There is a convoluted cover-up in place, but he has little difficulty getting past it.  And I love that there is a corporation at fault, but Craven finds only one guy to blame.  And he's right!  There is only one person responsible for a radiation-tinged conspiracy.  Do you know how evil you have to be to pull that off?  Skeletor-level evil.  Let's just pretend that corporations occasionally have one evil master that murders innocents in outlandish ways and has the government's help in covering it all up.  If I accept that, I find it incredibly hard to swallow that nobody pulls a grassy knoll on Craven's noggin.

And another thing...who is Craven's boss, Mr. Burns?  Craven says that he's not taking a leave of absence after his daughter dies.  Fine.  He then stops by the police station one more time before ignoring it for the rest of the film.  The police even call him with updates on his daughter's case, but nobody calls and asks if he's running late, or maybe to ask if he's decided to take that leave?  I want that job, right now.  Minus the whole thing with my daughter's blood splatter-painting my front door.

This movie frustrates me because it has a lot of potential.  Martin Campbell is a good action director (he's directed two good Bond movies) and the cast is decent.  Mel Gibson hasn't made a movie in years, but he gets to be a tough guy, which is something he's always been good at.  Ray Winstone takes a role that could be played as disinterested or tired and gives his character some depth; he doesn't demand much of the spotlight, but I appreciated his performance.  The rest of the supporting cast is unspectacular, but not bad.  Jay O. Sanders is decent as Craven's cop buddy, Shawn Roberts does the best he can with a dumb character, and Bojana Novakovic looks somewhat pretty in her limited screen time.  I was majorly disappointed by Danny Huston as the evil corporate head.  It's not just that his character is one-dimensional, or that he would have been less ridiculous if he had tied Craven's daughter to railroad tracks to kill her.  My problem is that  Huston plays this unlikable character as completely unlikable.  There's no wicked charm, or smart remarks.  He's just a douche and you want him to die.

Even with the goofiness of the plot, this is still a decently entertaining movie.  Gibson and Winstone are in fine form, and they make up a good portion of the movie.  This definitely is an underwhelming return to the screen for Gibson, but it's far from his worst work.  It's too bad, really, given what this movie could have been.  Still, if you like seeing old men beat up and kill jerks, then this movie has something to offer.

30 Days of Night

I've never been  a huge fan of vampire movies; the Anne Rice vamps are too mopey, the Twilight ones are too teen-friendly.  Even when Hollywood went back to basics with Bram Stoker's Dracula and got the incredible Gary Oldman to play the title role, it was underwhelming and bizarrely oversexed.  Even the Blade movies, which succeed as action flicks, fail by making vampires stupid rave kids.  Don't even get me started on the Underworld trilogy.  The vampire, as a cinema monster, has lost its effect.  It is no longer the stuff of horror, but a metaphor for undying love.

And that's a steaming pile of crap.  Vampires should be scary.  They drink blood to live, ferchrissakes!  They are unnatural abominations that take joy in the pain they cause.  In 30 Days of Night, Hollywood finally got the vampire right.

Based on the comic book miniseries of the same name, this story takes place in Barrow, Alaska.  Barrow is so close to the Arctic Circle that the town has one month out of the year where the sun does not rise at all.  Hence the movie title.  Not surprisingly, many of the townsfolk leave for the month, because missing daylight can make people go a little crazy sometimes.  In fact, the town does not sell alcohol during that month to keep the troubles to a minimum.  A relative few remain behind, including the sheriff Eben Oleson (Josh Hartnett), the surly town snowplow driver, Beau (Mark Boone Junior), and assorted townsfolk.  This year, Eben's estranged wife, Stella (Melissa George), also happens to get stuck in town after the annual exodus; a storm is heading toward Barrow, and she manages to wreck her car on the way to the last flight out of the area.  She's not the only visitor, either.  A strange, hoarse, dirty man (Ben Foster) appears on the first night, coincidentally the same night when all the town's cell phones have been stolen and burned,  and all the town's dogs have been killed.  This stranger is soon taken into custody by Eben and Stella for acting crazy in the town diner, but he just laughs at them, claiming that death is coming to Barrow.  The power goes out, so Eben and Stella investigate, only to find that the telecommunications/power center for the town has been sabotaged and the operator killed.

So far, the vampires haven't really been seen yet.  They are fast blurs in the shadows, and they are messy; you can tell where they have been because there's usually a headless corpse and a circle of blood-stained snow.  Then they attack, and you get your first look at them.  They speak a guttural foreign language, possibly an ancient one, so their dialogue has subtitles.  Their eyes are wide and entirely black.  They are pale, yes, but they are monstrous; their fingernails are claw-like, their noses elongated, and their teeth are all sharp.  These aren't the type of vampires that feed on you by leaving two fang marks behind, they tear out your whole throat.  There is no mistaking that these are vampires, and they have come to kill the residents of Barrow. 

Predictably, the human population in Barrow takes a swift nose dive after the vampires move in.  While there are two or three visually distinctive vamps, there is a clear leader, played by Danny Huston, that is commanding the rest.  Under his leadership, all communications have been lost, and all transportation has been disabled.  Still, a few survivors remain, including Eben and Stella.  They manage to sneak into a house that has a hidden attic, where they wait until they come up with a plan: the people of Barrow deliberately live there, so they know the cold like no others, and they can use that to their advantage and fight back.

As far as the acting goes, it's decent, with a couple of particularly awesome performances.  I found it noteworthy that I didn't dislike Josh Hartnett for a change.  Melissa George is okay, but not extraordinary.  This is probably the most heroic role I have seen Mark Boone Junior play; he usually is cast as a corrupt cop or a sleazeball.  Ben Foster once again takes a bit part and makes it memorable; you can argue that he overacts, but I love seeing him take boring roles and making them distinct characters.  Most of the vampires do little in the acting department, save tilt their heads and hiss.  Danny Huston, though, is terrifying.  He's basically the only vampire that speaks, and his makeup, combined with his inhuman mannerisms and his croaking voice, combine to make him the best vampire I can remember. 

I really liked the creative choices that director David Slade made with this film.  The first draft of the script was written by the comic's writer, Steve Niles; Slade made the choice to have his screenwriter from Hard Candy, Brian Nelson, do the rewrite.  Basically, they chose to make the script less over-the-top and more scary, and yet still remain basically true to the comic.  That is so smart, I wish they did this with all comic book movies: have a comic guy write the script that captures the feeling of the source comic books and have a screenwriter make changes so it works better on film.  It's a very simple concept that comic movies rarely follow.  And the vampire language?  That was totally a Slade/Nelson idea.  Visually, the film is surprisingly detail-oriented.  Beards grow with appropriate speed, chapped lips get worse over time, and the survivors look hungrier and dirtier as the film progresses.  The direction isn't flawless; the acting is only decent and the scenes where the survivors hide should have been claustrophobic.  Luckily, the sheer scariness of the vampires makes up for those not-quite-awesome attributes.

From a writing perspective, the story stays pretty true to the comic book.  There are some differences, but nothing major.  In fact, some of the changes are for the better, like the invention of the vampire language.  Still, the writing isn't great.  The plot is kind of predictable and there are some scenes that you just know will happen eventually, if you bother to think about it.  For instance, there has to be a scene where we get to see someone start to transform from human to vampire.  It's obvious, really, but the pace was brisk enough to keep me immersed in the moment, so I didn't think ahead.  That sort of pacing should be common in movies, but too often is overlooked, so I am grateful for its presence in this film.

The more I think about 30 Days of Night, the less impressed I am with it. I've seen it three or four times, and this happens every time I analyze it. It's not a bad movie, by any means. It just has a lot of things that aren't objectively great about it. But then I watch it again, and its awesomeness is renewed for me. There is something in this movie (probably scary vampires, if I had to guess) that satisfies me in a very basic way, and it is immune to any cliches or mediocre performances this film may contain. The important thing is that it has vampires, and they do not suck. And that makes me smile.

Robin Hood (2010)

You might not remember this, but when Russell Crowe originally signed on to this project, it was to play the Sheriff of Nottingham.  As a hero.  Whatever.  Later, he was going to play both the Sheriff and Robin Hood; I don't know if he was going to do an Eddie Murphy makeup job to pull it off, or if it was a plot twist that had one character assuming the role of the other, or if he was going to be costumed like Tommy Lee Jones in Batman Forever or what.  Eventually, the project mutated further, which brought it back to the more recognizable form we see in this film.

I mention the history behind the project because it helps make sense of some of the choices this movie makes.  A lot of the iconic scenes from past Robin Hoods are absent here and a few characters that have been historically important roles are pushed aside here.  That doesn't make this a bad movie, mind you.  It's just different.  If you think of this as "Robin Hood Begins," then you'll be able to approach the movie with a fresh mind-set and appreciate it for what it is: a Ridley Scott-directed, Russell Crowe-starring action movie.  And there's nothing wrong with that.

Robin Longstride (Russell Crowe) is coming back from the Crusades in the army of King Richard the Lionheart (Danny Huston) of England, when the army pauses on their journey home to pillage a French castle.  Bad idea; the Lionheart dies.  Robin and his buddies decide to rush to the coast while they can, because they know the rush to England will make boat rides pretty scarce.  They weren't the only ones with this idea; Robin Locksley of Nottingham was leading a party of knights to the king's ship to escort his royal crown back to England and give it to the royal family.  Again, bad idea; the knights are ambushed by French soldiers, led by Godfrey (Mark Strong), the right-hand man of Prince John.  Godfrey is working as a double agent, pretending to be loyal to England, but is really working for France's King Phillip in exchange for power and riches.  Robin and his men ambush the ambushers, killing most but Godfrey escapes with a nasty Joker-esque scar from Robin's arrow.  Robin promises the dying Locksley to return his family sword to Nottingham and the crown to the royal family.  Oddly enough, he does both.

That synopsis doesn't even get into the meat of the story, does it?  This is a pretty complicated plot for a character that is supposed to rob from the rich and give to the poor.  I could go on, but it gets a little silly.  I suppose that should be rephrased as, "I can go on, and it gets a little silly out of context:"

• Robin assumes the identity of Robin Locksley, then abandons it, only to assume it once more upon the request of Locksley's father (Max von Sydow).  
• The sheriff of Nottingham is bullied by Godfrey's men and contributes absolutely nothing to the plot or character development of the movie.  
• Robin is only referred to as "Robin Hood" twice in the entire movie.
• Are those the Lost Boys from Peter Pan in Sherwood Forest?
• Robin fights for King John.  
• Robin is married to Marion before they even kiss.  
• There is an implied orgy.
• He steals from the rich church and gives to the poor plants crops in the night.

Surprisingly, this all works pretty well.  Godfrey and his French soldiers have been attacking the towns and property of the British nobles, in the name of King John.  Logically, the nobles prepare to team up and attack King John; this is Godfrey's plan to weaken England's army so France can invade.  Robin steps in and essentially suggests the Magna Carta by declaring that every man should have liberty by law.  This is enough to get England to band together and they attack France's invading forces in a suitably epic battle.  To put it simply, a lot happens in this movie.

Ridley Scott can direct an action movie in his sleep, which might be why parts of this film are a tad reminiscent of the battle scenes from his previous movies.  Still, Scott and screenwriter Brian Helgeland (who is completely hit and miss --- The Postman AND LA Confidential?  Really?!?  A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master AND Man on Fire?!?) clearly wanted this to be a unique middle ages experience.  This is definitely the most authentic-looking Robin Hood movie to date, with what appears to be genuine military strategy from those times.  The weapons look good and they are used correctly; this is important if you're one of those people who doesn't think action heroes should be able to carry anti-aircraft guns and run at the same time.  The clothing also is very authentic.  The details throughout the film add to the appeal because they aren't necessarily obvious, but every so often I found myself thinking "Oh, look, Robin's bow fingers look different than the rest of his hand," or something like that.  Not terribly important stuff always, but nice to see.

Russell Crowe generally acts in movies where he is the only developed character, and that is basically true here.  This isn't an Oscar-worthy role for him, but he does everything you want Crowe to do in an action movie: he is tough, honorable, a little sensitive, and looks a little uncomfortable making jokes.  Oh, and he's a bad-ass.  Can't forget that.  The next most developed character is Marion, played by Cate Blanchett; Blanchett, like Crowe, turns in a pretty standard performance here.  She's still a go-to actress to play smart characters and she plays the role appropriately.  Mark Strong is dastardly as Godfrey, but he doesn't do much except be eeee-veeeel.  There is no denying that he does bad well.  There is also no denying that he looks like an evil Andy Garcia.  The rest of the characters are much less developed.  I actually liked Kevin Durand as Little John; he provides a lot of the smiles in the movie and he looks huge here, as opposed to most Little Johns, who have tended toward "big boned" as well as strong.  Scott Grimes (Will Scarlet), Alan Doyle (Allan A'Dayle), and Mark Addy (Friar Tuck) are okay as the rest of Robin's Merry Men, but they are in the background for most of the movie.  Similarly, William Hurt and Danny Huston are left criminally underused in this story.  Matthew Macfayden played the Sheriff of Nottingham, but his three scenes just leave you scratching your head, because he is ineffectual, at best.  To be fair to Macfayden, though, the character has nothing to do in this film.  On the other hand, Oscar Isaac is suitably weasely as King John, playing rude, ruthless, and wussy simultaneously.  Eileen Atkins (as King John's mom) and Lea Seydoux (King John's wife) are fittingly regal and actually succeed with the little material they are given.  Overall, I would say the acting is surprisingly good for the number of characters in the movie, but most of the performances are superficial.

That said, there were some things in this movie that bugged me.  First of all, I have a problem with movie titles that imply that their story is the definitive telling of a particular tale (see Ed Gein or Pearl Harbor for examples).  By calling this movie "Robin Hood," viewers have every reasonable expectation to see the iconic scenes from the legend and previous film adaptations, like the scene where Robin and Little John meet over a river (which is kind-of-not-really replaced with a game of medieval three card monte).  I have no problem with that scene (or any others) being omitted here; I just think that, since this is clearly a re-imagining of the story, the title should have been changed to Robin Hood Begins, The Untold Truth of Robin Hood, or even Robin Longstride or Robin of the Hood.  Any of these would have clearly pointed out that this story could differ from the more familiar ones.

Another problem I have is the historical inaccuracies.  Most Robin Hood stories end when King Richard returns to England to reclaim his throne; here he dies before Robin becomes a Hood.  Robin (and his father before him) propose a charter of rights (clearly alluding to the Magna Carta, which King John will eventually sign), but the dates of the movie set this up over a decade early.  King John never went into battle.  Oh, and one more minor point... the French never invaded England.  HA!  It's like making a Revolutionary War movie and having America fight the Spanish, or a Civil War film that uses the secession of states as the reason why Canada isn't part of this country.  Oh, our culture is ignorant.  Of course, little things like the perversion of history are not going to bother anyone. 

Inaccuracies aside, I enjoyed this movie.  It's got a lot of plot for a pretty simple story, but it still makes sense.  The action is good and the acting is pretty solid throughout.  I'm a little surprised that Robin doesn't do his normal Socialist thing of redistributing wealth from the rich to the poor.  His whole take on individual freedoms seems an awful lot like Libertarianism to me, which is an interesting direction to take such an iconic character.  I wish there was more humor in the movie, but the tone is at least consistent throughout.  If the focus had been on character development instead of a plot that incorporated so many known-but-underused characters here, I think the film would have been much more enjoyable.  Really, do we need to have Friar Tuck, Allan A'Dayle, William Marshall, or even the Sheriff of Nottingham in this story?  No.  With so many changes from the traditional tale, this movie could have easily gotten away with omitting a lot of the supporting cast.  Of course, some of these criticisms only occurred to me after thinking about the movie for a bit.  I have no problem saying that (aside from the history lesson) I had no problems when the movie was playing.

The Proposition

The typical Western has good guys (usually sheriffs or the like) and bad guys (horse thieves, Indians, bank robbers, etc.) fighting in a town that looks like it wouldn't be a terrible place to visit.  Sure, it looks a little dirty and there's no running water, but where else can you order a sarsaparilla in a bar and not get any weird looks?  In the traditional Western, there are a lot of broad landscape shots, showing how open and rich the country is, and some Westerns will explore that openness, only to return to the warmth of the town at the end.

The Proposition is not that kind of Western.  It may take place in the 1880s, but the location alone makes this film noteworthy.  Instead of America's vast frontier, this movie takes place in Australia.  Not Australia, land of lobsters, wine and the Great Barrier Reef, either.  This is the Outback.  It is as wide and vast as America's western vista, but it is intimidating instead of inspiring.  This is a land that painted in brown and red, with dust and blood baked by the sun into everything you see.  This is Australia, the continent-sized penal colony.

With that in mind, it should not be surprising to learn that this is not a typical Western plot.  The movie begins with a shootout, where Charlie (Guy Pearce) and Mike Burns are outmanned and outgunned.  They are soon captured by the local law, specifically Captain Stanley (Ray Winstone).  Apparently, Captain Stanley is hell-bent on "civilizing" Australia, or at least making is resemble England in manners, if not appearances.  The biggest lawbreakers (and thus, the most uncivilized force) around is Arthur Burns (Danny Huston) and his gang.  Until recently, that gang included Charlie and Mike, but Arthur's bloodthirsty tendencies caused a rift between the brothers.  Captain Stanley knows this and wants Arthur dead.  He makes Charlie a proposition: Charlie has a few days to find Arthur, kill him, and return to town, or else Mike will be hanged.  If Charlie is successful, both he and Mike get a legal pardon.

Of course, nothing's ever that simple.  Charlie has to contend with a bounty hunter (John Hurt) and angry Aborigines on his quest to reach Arthur, and then has to decide whether to kill his brother or not.  Captain Stanley's job is not much easier.  The complete Burns gang (Charlie and Mike included) recently murdered an entire family, pausing only to rape the pregnant wife.  Allowing any member of the gang to go free causes considerable distress among the townsfolk.  The town wants their pound of flesh, regardless of who is the greater evil.

The Proposition is an interesting movie because there is no character with a clear-cut high moral ground.  Yes, Captain Stanley wants to "civilize" Australia, but what does that mean?  He brought his young wife to a a lonely wasteland, where they put up a small picket fence and have tea on their porch.  These little touches of Britishness are almost tragic in this environment.  These details quietly ask "Who is this guy kidding?"  Stanley's entire motivation is so out of sync with his environment that it is almost funny.  He believes in himself, though, and is willing to kill almost anyone in town to protect the captive Mike Burns from lynching.  Charlie Burns is not as complex; he is a bad man that wants to save his delicate (possibly retarded) younger brother.  Killing Arthur might even be a relief to Charlie.  Arthur doesn't show up until halfway through the film, but lives up to the hype.  He is mean and without conscience, but he recites poetry and loves to hear Irish ballads.  He really doesn't seem bad until he gets around so-called "civilized" folk.

The cast here is very good.  It's always nice to see Guy Pearce in a decent movie, because the man can act.  Here, he balances familial duty and conscience well.  Ray Winstone does a great job as the Captain.  He shows such toughness around men, but shows his weakness with his wife (Emily Watson), although not to her.  The supporting cast is fine in relatively one-dimensional roles.  Emily Watson is a frightened and lonely wife, surrounded by men who could conceivably rape her with little notice.  David Wenham is decent as the highest local authority, acting within the bounds of British law, but not necessarily applying those laws well in Australia.  John Hurt does a nice job as the weathered bounty hunter.  Tom Budge is eerie as a Burns gang killer with a heavenly voice.  Danny Huston steals the show, though.  The oddities in his character make him very likable in the quiet Outback scenes, but terrifying when he is on the warpath.

Nick Cave's script (yes, Nick Cave the musician) clearly wants this movie to be on par with the best Sam Peckinpah Westerns, and it comes very close.  The only difference between this movie and, for instance, The Wild Bunch, is that this movie doesn't really make you root for the main character.  Instead, you sympathize with Ray Winstone and maybe Danny Huston.  Director John Hillcoat is relatively inexperienced, but it doesn't show here; he does a fantastic job with the bleak scenery, the mood, and the actors.  Ultimately, though, the lack of character for Guy Pearce to work with hampers this film.  This isn't a fun viewing experience, so having a sympathetic main character is essential to a good ending.  Despite this flaw, the film retains a sense of brutal authenticity.  American Westerns don't make the Old West look like much fun (most of the time), but this Western feels like hell.

Clash of the Titans (2010)

Judging from the title, you might think that this would be a movie about the Greco-Roman gods battling their parents, the Titans.  You might think that this film would feature epic battles and deal with the Freudian ideas of how children must usurp their parents in order to come into their own.  You might be a big, stupid moron.

This film is a remake of the campy 1981 movie of the same name.  Sadly, the stop motion effects of the original are replaced with actual special effects this time around (although the robotic owl from the original makes a cameo).  So, if this movie isn't about battling the Titans of Greek mythology, then what is it about?  The king and queen of Argos decide to topple their ridiculously enormous statue of Zeus, claiming that they need not worship the gods because now is the time of man.  Why anyone would do this when gods are known to walk the earth and smite mortals is beyond me.  Not surprisingly, Zeus (played by Liam Neeson) sends his brother, Hades (Ralph Fiennes), to spread some Hellenic-style smiting across the isle of Argos.  Hades does his damage and threatens to have his pet monster, the kraken, wipe Argos off the map unless Argos' princess is sacrificed to the gods.  Who will save Argos?  That would be Perseus, played by Sam Worthington.  Perseus' family was killed in Hades' attack, but it's all good; Perseus learns that he is a demigod and that Zeus is his father.  Perseus and a band of Argos' best warriors then decide to find a way to kill the kraken.  To do this, the crew must visit some witches, who send them to the underworld to kill (Or is that re-kill?  She's in the underworld already, right?  No!  Must...stop...thinking...) Medusa.  The idea is to cut her head off because any mortal (even a monster) that looks in her eyes will turn to stone.  Along the way, the men team up with a djinn, a warlock-like thing whose skin appears to be made of a cross between granite and tree bark.  They fight several giant scorpions and end up riding the rest across a desert, like camels.  In the end, we get what is promised:

***SPOILER ALERT***

the kraken turns to stone when it sees Medusa's head.  Consider yourself spoiled.

Huh.  How about that?  Yep.  It's a bit of an anticlimax.  You've got to give credit where it's due, though; you learn that Medusa's head can kill the kraken early in the film and it sure does.  Mission accomplished.  Who needs drama, anyway?  The plot fails to follow through with a lot of decent ideas here.  The hero has to kill a huge monster?  Awesome.  Instead of killing the monster just by showing up with the right tool, I would have rather...I don't know...had the monster eat the hero and have the hero cut his way out of the monster's chest?  That would have been cooler.  I would have had the witches be more threatening; they were only a cool-looking nuisance.  The giant scorpions were okay, but I had trouble figuring out who was fighting what scorpion; these were the most confusingly edited action scenes since Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen.  I pay attention when I watch a movie, and if I can't tell how many giant monsters are in a scene, there's a problem.  The subplot with the sacrifice of Argos' princess could have been decent in a different movie, but it's just filler here.  Of course, I don't envy the writer who has to justify destroying a populated island over sacrificing one person, so I see why they left the subject mostly untouched.

The characters were equally frustrating.  Sam Worthington has yet to prove himself as an actor, despite leading roles in Avatar and Terminator: Salvation.  He plays the same basic character over and over again.  I know, he's not the only actor that does this, but I don't think Randy Quaid is a great example for young actors to strive toward.  Liam Neeson is okay, I guess, as Zeus; it's hard to judge Zeus as a character because the mythological god was all over the place, in terms of logic and attitude.  In this movie, he's alternately a doting father and an attention-starved god.  Ralph Fiennes really irritated me as Hades at first because he whispered all his lines; this served a plot-related purpose, so I'll let it slide this time.  His forehead dandruff was unnecessary, though.  The other gods barely got speaking parts, including Danny Huston as Poseidon.  This movie is all about throwing recognizable actors at you and not giving them time or space to act.  Jason Flemyng is a somewhat effective man-monster who spends most of his time running away from Perseus.  Nicholas Hoult (the weird kid from About a Boy) proves that ugly child actors can actually grow up to be reasonably handsome...and that's about all he does here.  Gemma Arterton pretty much reprises her role from Quantum of Solace as a pretty face with no character.  Mads Mikkelsen is the only standout here, and he just did a decent job as the resident military expert, but somebody had to look good against the cardboard cutouts this script provided. 


And yet...it's a special effects movie.  Do we really watch these with the same expectations as a Charlie Kaufman-scripted film?  The answer is that we should, but we don't.  Sometimes, effects are good and fun enough to let us turn our brains off and bathe in the screen's warm glow.  The effects in Clash of the Titans aren't good enough to make up for its many shortcomings, but they are pretty good.  The character designs on the kraken, the witches, the djinn, and Hades' flying bat creatures are all great.  I don't know how many of the locations were shot in front of a green screen (the movie was allegedly shot mostly in Whales), but the panoramic shots of Pereus and company descending into the underworld were awesome.  The strange thing about the effects is that they don't seem to be enhanced by 3D.  I realize that these 3D parts were thrown in at the last minute after seeing how well Avatar did in theaters, but I expected them to be...well, not crappy.  In fact, the 3D effects were the worst in the film; it seems like they were forced to go 3D, but didn't have the time or budget to do it right, so they just did it fast.

Overall, the plot wasn't great and the actors just showed up.  Neither was terrible, though.  The effects were good enough to make this film visually appealing, but the real star was the character design for the creatures.  Is that enough to recommend a movie?  Tough call.

The Constant Gardener

 Most of the time, when I finish a movie, I know how I feel about it right away.  I'm pretty good at articulating my responses, so when I find myself at a loss, it's noteworthy (to me, at least).  I guess that makes The Constant Gardener noteworthy, then.

The film is based on a novel by John le Carre, author of The Spy Who Came In From the Cold, which I haven't read.  I'll be honest, I'm more of a Robert Ludlum type of guy than a le Carre fan, but for those that are unfamiliar with him, he writes spy novels filled with lots of subtle moments instead of big action.  So, despite the presence of a gun on the movie poster, I assure you that this is not an action packed spy film.  Instead, it is a love story...in the middle of a deadly conspiracy.

Ralph Fiennes is married to Rachel Weisz; he is a British diplomat and she is an activist.  They are in Nairobi for his job when Rachel's character is murdered, reportedly by her friend.  When Fiennes starts to investigate the murder on his own, he realizes that his wife had uncovered a corporate cover-up.  I don't want to spoil anything (the plot is very detail-driven), but the cover-up risks billions of dollars, which always leads to important people trying to cover their assets (see what I did just there?  I'm so clever).

While this film is plot heavy, it is a more character-driven piece than any other conspiracy or spy movie I have seen.  That's partly what makes this an odd film for me.  Most of the time, in a movie like this, you have a spy that is a total bad-ass as the main character.  Or you can go the other way, and have an every day guy  thrust into extraordinary circumstances.  This, though, does not feel extraordinary; it feels all too plausible.  Fiennes' character is the prototypical uptight British man; he tends to repress his emotions and is very understated.  This makes for a realistic portrayal, but it bored the crap out of me.  Fiennes' acting really saved the film for me.  He was able to show a wide of emotions range with limited source material; Ralph Fiennes needs to be cast in bigger movies because he has a ton of talent, but has been using it in too many bit roles lately.  Rachel Weisz, on the other hand, plays a very over-the-top character and brings her down to earth.  Weisz absolutely deserved the Oscar she won for this performance; she should have been nominated for the lead acting role instead of supporting, because she totally could have beaten Reese Witherspoon in Walk the Line.  The juxtaposition of the uber-emotional Weisz and the anti-emotional Fiennes is interesting to watch because the characters show their love in different, subtle ways.  Yes, Weisz is dead as the film begins, but this movie is really about their romance and Fiennes' realization of its importance once she is gone.


Danny Huston was good as a back-stabbing scoundrel, although I barely recognized him...apparently, this is his normal appearance, not how he looked in 30 Days of Night.  Silly me.  This is also the best dramatic work I've seen from Bill Nighy, a very capable comedic actor, but a dreadful action star (ugh...Underworld...).  In fact, if the two lead roles were not played so capably, Nighy's work would have been the standout for this film.

The acting is very noteworthy, but the film style is quite unusual, too.  The film proceeds in a dual-linear chronological fashion.  In other words, the plot proceeds chronologically, but frequently cuts to an extended series of flashbacks for Fiennes' character that also occur chronologically; for example, when Fiennes identifies Weisz's body, he has a flashback to the moment they met and as he deals with his loss in the present, his flashbacks proceed in time from that first moment they shared together. Most of the time, when a movie has flashbacks, they are usually just one or two important scenes that add background to a character's history.  The rest of the time, the film is edited so that the chronology is out of order, but there is a sense of thematic unity closure (like Pulp Fiction or Memento).  While not unprecedented (Slumdog Millionaire and the director's City of God have also used this device), telling the story this way made it interesting to watch, for a change.  These two characters should not have liked each other, but the flashbacks show how important Weisz was to Fiennes, which made his actions in the present seem more logical and have more meaning.

Okay, so far it all sounds pretty good.  Why was this a difficult movie for me to respond to?  Well, as technically impressive as this film is, and the acting and editing show how much director Fernando Meirelles did, I had a hard time caring.  Is this a good movie?  Yes, but I don't think I'll watch it again for a long time.  My problem lies with Fiennes' character.  Since he is the focal point of the movie, he needs to be interesting and he is not.  Fiennes is capable of so much charisma on screen, so it's frustrating for me to watch and appreciate his work here and still not enjoy it.  Really, the plot is good, the acting and directing are great, but when the main character is painfully and deliberately plain, it's hard to overcome.