Dog Days of Summer
Well, summer is about half over and what have we learned so far? Besides that there might be something to this whole global warming thing after all.
The summer blockbusters keep on marching out in lockstep every weekend. Some do as they're expected to do and others don't. Some are good, and some are not so good. None are horrible, out-right bad or laughable. None are great. At least none I've seen. The worst you can say about most films in this corporatized Hollywood age is that they're bland. Not much to love, not much to hate. Hard to feel anything about movies lately. I still get a swell of emotion as the house lights go down, just before the string of crass candy and automobile commercials come up, then a short surge of anticipation during the previews, but the feature presentation leaves me feeling... not much.
I tried to be optimistic about Superman Returns, I really did. I wanted to like it. I wanted it to be a modern myth, a film I would see again and again as time went by, something I might show my son one day, in the event that I have a son one day. But now, six weeks later, virtually nothing from that film has stuck with me. Kevin Spacey was lame as Lex Luthor, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. The usual plot involving a hard-to-come-by piece of Kryptonite, and a dubious usage of crystal Lex borrows from The Fortress of Solitude after walking through the front door unchallenged. Brandon Routh was passable as Christopher Reeve, which, I guess makes him a decent Superman. I dared to hope for something more; I hoped for a new Superman, someone... I don't know, heroic.
It took the better part of two decades, dozens of writers, hundreds of drafts of screenplays, a bevy of A-list talent and $260 million to get a new Superman movie into the megaplexes. I don't think it's even made back it's staggering budget yet. Time will tell if we see more of Superman in the future. There's a plot point in the film that anticipates another sequel, but I'm not sure there's an audience for it.
Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest, on the other hand, was a lot of fun. Remarkable set-pieces. Epic storytelling. Myth. Adventure. Action. And more special effects per minute of screen time than... well, than the last one. The villain, Davy Jones, was a pleasure to watch for every squirming, slithering, gurgling second he was on screen. And, of course, Johnny Depp, reprising his role as Captain Jack Sparrow, was fantastic. The plot, this time around, has Captain Jack trying to save his own soul from eternal servitude on Davy Jones' crew of the undead by finding the key to Davy Jones' Locker. It's part two of a trilogy, so if you're one of the three people in North America who hasn't seen it yet, don't expect things to tie up tidily before the credits roll. You'll have to wait until next summer for that.
About the only thing Miami Vice has in common with the tv series of the same name is that it takes place in a highly-stylized Miami. And that it's about vice cops fighting drug lords. And the character names. Just because you loved the series doesn't mean you'll love the show. I liked the series, and I liked the movie. Director Michael Mann - who executive produced the series - uses high-definition digital technology as an end in itself, and not simply, like many filmmakers, as a way to reduce budget. Budget isn't a problem for Michael Mann. Certainly not in this film, with it's ocean-going speed boats, state-of-the-art aircraft, high-tech weaponry and drug kingpin castles. Like his previous film, Collateral, Mann uses the digital pallet to create a gritty realism and raw beauty. And he makes it look so, so gorgeous. No one shoots night exteriors like Michael Mann. At several points in the film I found myself gasping, as lightning lit up the murky heavens over the neon Miami skyline.
A. O. Scott, of the New York Times, captures my feelings exactly:
The summer blockbusters keep on marching out in lockstep every weekend. Some do as they're expected to do and others don't. Some are good, and some are not so good. None are horrible, out-right bad or laughable. None are great. At least none I've seen. The worst you can say about most films in this corporatized Hollywood age is that they're bland. Not much to love, not much to hate. Hard to feel anything about movies lately. I still get a swell of emotion as the house lights go down, just before the string of crass candy and automobile commercials come up, then a short surge of anticipation during the previews, but the feature presentation leaves me feeling... not much.
I tried to be optimistic about Superman Returns, I really did. I wanted to like it. I wanted it to be a modern myth, a film I would see again and again as time went by, something I might show my son one day, in the event that I have a son one day. But now, six weeks later, virtually nothing from that film has stuck with me. Kevin Spacey was lame as Lex Luthor, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. The usual plot involving a hard-to-come-by piece of Kryptonite, and a dubious usage of crystal Lex borrows from The Fortress of Solitude after walking through the front door unchallenged. Brandon Routh was passable as Christopher Reeve, which, I guess makes him a decent Superman. I dared to hope for something more; I hoped for a new Superman, someone... I don't know, heroic.
It took the better part of two decades, dozens of writers, hundreds of drafts of screenplays, a bevy of A-list talent and $260 million to get a new Superman movie into the megaplexes. I don't think it's even made back it's staggering budget yet. Time will tell if we see more of Superman in the future. There's a plot point in the film that anticipates another sequel, but I'm not sure there's an audience for it.
Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest, on the other hand, was a lot of fun. Remarkable set-pieces. Epic storytelling. Myth. Adventure. Action. And more special effects per minute of screen time than... well, than the last one. The villain, Davy Jones, was a pleasure to watch for every squirming, slithering, gurgling second he was on screen. And, of course, Johnny Depp, reprising his role as Captain Jack Sparrow, was fantastic. The plot, this time around, has Captain Jack trying to save his own soul from eternal servitude on Davy Jones' crew of the undead by finding the key to Davy Jones' Locker. It's part two of a trilogy, so if you're one of the three people in North America who hasn't seen it yet, don't expect things to tie up tidily before the credits roll. You'll have to wait until next summer for that.
About the only thing Miami Vice has in common with the tv series of the same name is that it takes place in a highly-stylized Miami. And that it's about vice cops fighting drug lords. And the character names. Just because you loved the series doesn't mean you'll love the show. I liked the series, and I liked the movie. Director Michael Mann - who executive produced the series - uses high-definition digital technology as an end in itself, and not simply, like many filmmakers, as a way to reduce budget. Budget isn't a problem for Michael Mann. Certainly not in this film, with it's ocean-going speed boats, state-of-the-art aircraft, high-tech weaponry and drug kingpin castles. Like his previous film, Collateral, Mann uses the digital pallet to create a gritty realism and raw beauty. And he makes it look so, so gorgeous. No one shoots night exteriors like Michael Mann. At several points in the film I found myself gasping, as lightning lit up the murky heavens over the neon Miami skyline.
A. O. Scott, of the New York Times, captures my feelings exactly:
'With “Miami Vice” he clearly had money to burn, and the flames are beautiful to behold. Mixing pop savvy with startling formal ambition, Mr. Mann transforms what is essentially a long, fairly predictable cop-show episode into a dazzling (and sometimes daft) Wagnerian spectacle. He fuses music, pulsating color and high drama into something that is occasionally nonsensical and frequently sublime. “Miami Vice” is an action picture for people who dig experimental art films, and vice versa.'
If I had one complaint, it was that Colin Farrell is outclassed by the picture. He tries to cover his Irish brogue with a sort of deep south/cajun drawl that just doesn't cut it. I keep wondering when his acting will step up to meet his reputation. He's too young to be phoning it in.
I haven't seen Clerks II yet. I mean to, and I'll definitely rent it if I don't catch it before it disappears from theatres. Now, there's smart filmmaking. Clerks II made money before it opened. The box office take is gravy, $22 million worth, so far. I love Kevin Smith more for who he is and what he does than for the films he makes. Say what you will about the man, he does have a rare vision, and makes films that he himself is genuinely amused by. Which strikes me as honest and authentic.
What's up next? Little Miss Sunshine. It took Sundance by storm earlier this year, and Steve Carell currently has my endorsement for the funniest man in show business.
So, um, what started out as a rather bleak commentary on the state of summertime film-going has become almost... I don't know. Jubilant? Nah, that's probably pushing it.
6 Comments:
It's been a long time since the trailers have hooked me into a theater, partly because I don't tend to get impatient for films -- I figure I'll eventually get to see them for $1.99/week and that's cool.
Little Miss Sunshine looks fascinating; I'll likely see it 28 months after everyone else does.
Great writeups here -- I love hearing your take on this stuff.
A big part of enjoying a movie, or partaking in any kind of entertainment really, is the ability to give yourself over to the experience. Which is something, for whatever reason, I am able to do quite readily. When I watch a movie I want to love it. I want to be absorbed. I do try to limit the amount of pre-release hyperbole I take in and read reviewers whose opinions I've come to trust. In this age of blitzkrieg marketing, though, it is hard to arrive at the theatre with any kind of objectivity.
Even trailers have suffered in recent years, and often leave nothing to the imagination. I remember the Castaway preview, which showed Tom Hanks arriving at his wife's door, thin and ruddy, but cleanly shaven... "Oh, so he survives. Guess I don't need to see that one."
I tend to get only a sniff of the hype wave for the big movies, then hear some of the backlash (or raves), then mostly forget about it until I see it in the video store a year or two later. This semi-luddite approach probably helps temper my expectations, but I don't either get to participate in discussing the film when everyone is thinking and talking about it in the buzz times. By the time I get excited, it's old news and everyone just looks at me funny when I start raving and says, "well, yeah, of course...did you only see it now?"
re: "give yourself over to the experience"
I have a hard time doing this -- I often find myself consciously trying to ignore or muffle the over-critical, sneering voice in my head that mocks weak moments and inconsistencies (even in great films) with a snarky "AS IF!" or a junior-high "yeah, whatEVER!" I gotta work on that.
An example of this personal malady. As you know, I dored the LOTR seres, but I too often think of three scenes that seriously compromised my enjoyment, all three because of shoddy special effects that broke my suspension of disbelief (I realize it's a fantasy and all, but...):
1. the cave troll in the Mines Moria was awesome until they tried to show members of the fellowship riding on its back. That was just so video-game cheesy, that only the appearance of the kick-ass Balrog rescued me from writing off the rest of the movie
2. Galadriel (and Lothlorien) were ok overall, but her quest-for-power freakout was so parody-level bad that I burst out laughing in the theater (irritating my fellow moviegoers no end, I imagine). I couldn't help myself.
3. Legolas defying gravity (and other physical laws) while taking out the Oliphaunt. Cheeeeese pleeeeease. Related honorable mention from TT: his snowboarding down stairs on a shield while shooting multiple arrows in Helm's Deep. At least that was sort of funny.
You see what I mean? Amazing films, chock full of some of the best cinematography and special effects I've ever seen...but these things just niggle me disproportionately.
Since I've already completely sullied your post with my psychosis, I have another thought.
With DVDs, the ability to choose specific scenes makes it easy to watch only the parts of a movie you love (and skip ones you don't). I've done this with the LOTR series several times, watching only favourite scenes, like the Balrog, the arrival of the enemy at Helm's Deep (including the orc running with the bomb), the
last charge of the Rohirrim and the massing of the enemy at the gates of Minas Tirith, etc. I guess they tend to be spectacle scenes.
Perhaps it's easier to skip scenes in that series because we already know the story (and backstory) so well. You don't miss much in the way of context or narrative because it's already all burned into your brain.
I don't do that. Although, I do watch certain films when I'm in a particular mood. But when I do, I watch them from the beginning, and pick up from where I left off if I don't finish. Unless I catch a movie on TV. Then I'll sometimes watch it until my favourite scene comes on, like last night with Goodfellas... I watched it until Billy Batts got killed and things start to go south for Henry Hill.
Right now, Esther and I are preparing for our trip to NYC, and are watching all our Woody Allen DVDs in addition to a fabulous PBS documentary series by Ric Burns about the tumultuous history of Manhattan. But that's on VHS tape. Nasty things, those VHS tapes.
Very cool to immerse yourself in the art and history of the place before you go...will make seeing the stuff in real all the richer.
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