The Dark Knight Rises Review

THE FIRE RISES. Yes, yes it does. At long last...

So, I'm here to type out a review for The Dark Knight Rises. It's an epic-length action (war?) drama that tackles issues such as the overindulgence and often ridiculous opulence of the wealthy, the price they pay for wallowing in it, and what exactly would happen if the United States was overthrown by a nuclear weapon-wielding, highly intelligent, and heavily militant fascist regime, told in the microcosm of a city that somehow, in eight years, went from looking like Chicago to some sort of strange fusion of New York City, Detroit, and Pittsburgh. Incidentally, it completes the three-act Batman story Christopher Nolan was telling in his first two movies at the same time.

It's pretty safe to say that The Dark Knight Rises is easily my most anticipated film of all time. Ever since the ball-busting, genre-tearing, and gripping piece of entertainment Nolan delivered in The Dark Knight, I have been feverishly awaiting this one, even more so since Nolan announced that it was the final installment in what will be known in the future as "The Dark Knight Trilogy". What I was not excited about, however, was the swirling rumors of the Riddler being in the film. Riddler has long been near the very bottom on my list of Batman's rogues gallery (a lot of that blame goes to Jim Carrey, in addition to him being a fairly similar character to the Joker), so they were not encouraging. Then, Tom Hardy was cast, and eventually announced as not the Riddler, not Hugo Strange, not Hush or Black Mask, but... Bane, the man who broke the bat. The minute this came to light (along with the news of Anne Hathaway stepping into the cat shoes of Selina Kyle, a casting choice that I have never understood the criticism for), my anticipation for this film went through the roof. Compound that with the incredible trailers, jaw-dropping prologue (now-fixed Bane voice problems aside), and the promise of an ending, that by the time I was watching the trailers in the theater, I could barely contain myself. However, hopes are one thing, and reality is another, so would The Dark Knight Rises (aptly titled, for more reasons than one) live up to the high standards that Nolan set in his first two Bat-films? (MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD, and this will be a larger review than usual for such an event movie)

The Legend Ends. And may it never be rebooted (but it will)

In short: Yes, but not in the way you probably were expecting. The Dark Knight Rises is quite a great film, even one that may one day be remembered as a highlight of summer blockbusters, but many will hate it. One reason for this is because of the rather large shift in style from The Dark Knight to The Dark Knight Rises. It went from being a crime drama with Batman in it to a rather grandiose and fanciful war film, with comic booky technology and physics galore. Now, an alien army never touches down in Gotham, a la The Avengers (another great comic book movie, but for totally different reasons). Nolan said that he wanted to capture the grandeur lost in films these days, and in this case, he really succeeded. It cannot be stressed enough: The Dark Knight Rises is an epic, epic, EPIC film, structured like a sprawling novel with an armada of characters both old and new (a flaw that will be discussed later). Yet, despite its utter scale, it will have a lot of haters, even haters who loved the previous two.

Let me put this straight: If you've nitpicked to death about the way Nolan has written Batman as a character in comparison to his comic book counterpart in the past, The Dark Knight Rises will only make you angrier. Not only does Batman get broken, he gets beaten up repeatedly, stabbed through his Kevlar, mopes, acts reckless, and even retires and becomes a weird hermit. Other supposed flaws include Bane's voice (despite being greatly improved, it still gets a little misty at times), a few odd logical lapses (how did Bruce get back into Gotham at the beginning of the third act? When did he have time to fix the Bat's autopilot?), and some shortchanged villains (the reveal at the end is good but is rendered moot approximately five minutes later, and Bane deserved a better form of defeat). I will explain all these flaws away as best I can. I'll list the supposed flaws I deem mistaken, and the flaws I think are actual.

Fake Flaw: Batman's Retirement, Seclusion, Beatings, and Breaking- Ardent and stubborn comic book fans are already crowing their heads off about this one. Batman quitting is apparently something some fans are refusing to accept, even though there's a STORY FROM THE 80s WRITTEN ABOUT IT. In The Dark Knight Returns, the death of Jason Todd, combined with forcible retirement of superheroes by the government and a distrusting populace, led Batman into retirement for 10 years, and in Rises, the death of Rachel Dawes, coupled with the rise of Gordon's Dent Act rooting out crime and again, a distrusting populace led Batman to hang up his cape and cowl for 8. The circumstances are so parallel that it's clear Nolan is doing his take on Frank Miller's seminal story, and it translates, pretty well. Instead of Carrie Kelly, he gets John Blake, and instead of the Joker and the government on his ass, he gets Bane, the Gotham police force, and Bane's army. He has old war wounds from his Bat-days (the leg was probably sustained by his fall off the roof at the end of TDK and grew worse with lack of proper medical treatment), and his sharp skills have given way to a truly tragic figure, existing but not really living. And then, when Bane and Catwoman arrive, forcing him out of retirement, he's sloppy. The cops almost catch him, and he only gets away because of his wonderful toys, not because he outsmarted them. And then Bane breaks and imprisons him, in a truly shocking moment (I was surprised Nolan actually went for the backbreaker over the knee). And then, he finally is shaken out of his funk while recovering and watching Gotham in chaos while inside Bane's pit (that looks an awful lot like the well Bruce fell into as a boy in Batman Begins. He then retrains and escapes, and when he returns to Gotham to stop Bane, he's truly Batman once again. As for his "final" retirement, with Gotham safe from Bane (and Talia) and Batman erected as a heroic symbol (not to mention a certain cop inheriting his Batcave), Bruce Wayne can exist again. It also gives a happy ending for Alfred. So, yeah, Batman retiring is being way overblown. It's being called on by purists as an inaccurate take on the character, but Nolan is still clearly drawing on comics to influence his stories. The Dark Knight fell to preserve the legacy of Harvey Dent, and he had to Rise to take on the new foe (I love how the League of Shadows pit, basically Nolan's version of the Lazarus Pit, gave Bruce an actual physical thing he needed to "rise" in).

Actual Flaws

Actual Flaw #1: Bane's Voice- After the prologue showed up at the end of last year, everyone immediately jumped on Bane's incomprehensible voice (even I admit it took me 3 tries to understand everything he was saying). I understood everything he said this time (I LOVE the actual sound of his voice, it's hilarious, charismatic, and terrifying all at the same time), but the new problem was that post-production editing made his voice really, really LOUD. His voice blared over the speakers in the theater, and while it did help on a level of theatricality, it was also distracting as hell.

Actual Flaw #2: Superfluous Characters and Plot Holes- If there's one thing I agree with the critics on this thing, it's that there's a bajillion characters, and it could have cut a lot of them and still been the same movie, only less muddled. If there's two that stand out as odd, one is Matthew Modine's Deputy Commish Foley, and the other is Juno Temple as Catwoman's comic book sidekick, Holly Robinson. Foley had a mini-arc, and a few good moments, but was vestigial. Holly was totally unnecessary, and scenes with her just bloated the movie. As for plot holes, one is Bruce getting back into Gotham after escaping the pit (which I'm forced to chock up as "he's the goddamn Batman"), and the other, more glaring one is that when Fox is examining the Bat at the end of the movie (after the Bat just blew up in a nuclear explosion). There's a second Bat? Why haven't we seen it before? Why didn't Bane steal it? When did Bruce have time to fix the autopilot? Why did he fix the autopilot on the Bat that he wasn't using? It's such a small detail, and Nolan is such a smart filmmaker, so I'll say he outsmarted himself on that one.

Actual Flaw #3: Editing, Pacing, and Length- It took awhile for me to actually begin to love this movie. I'll say it happened around the point where Bane broke Batman. Up to that, I could've gone either way on it. The pacing was fast, but it was TOO fast. They tried to cram too much into that first hour, introducing Bane, Selina, Blake, Daggett, Foley, Holly, Dr. Pavel, and Miranda, while focusing on Bruce, Alfred, Gordon, and Fox. Um, that's trying to tell the story of 12 characters in 60 minutes. That's like 5 minutes per, and when there are main ones who eat up the majority, it's way less for the lesser ones like Blake and Selina who still require development, as major pieces of the Dark Knight Trilogy puzzle introduced late in the game. As for editing, the first hour was cut too fast. There were some awkward transitions between scenes, and certain sequences felt cut short. And this also ties into my length thing. A lot of critics are saying The Dark Knight Rises is too long; it's TOO SHORT. The movie should have been 30 minutes longer so as to properly flesh out its new characters and tie some of the more awkward disparities together. But if a 164-minute superhero movie is pushing it, then a 200-minute one is unacceptable for a summer blockbuster, movie clarity be damned. Maybe it should have been cut in two and billed as "The Epic Two-Part Conclusion to the Dark Knight Legend".

It comes in black. Does it come it camo, like Bane's Tumblers?

And that's it for flaws. Now on to the good stuff.

Team Nolan- All the credit in the world goes to Nolan and his top-notch production team. Nolan's direction is first-rate as usual, with some truly great imagery and haunting callbacks to the previous films. The moment that will stick in me indelibly in here is when Bruce is climbing the wall of the pit for the last time, the moment in the movie where The Dark Knight finally Rises, and the Hans Zimmer score is swelling, and as he hits the side of the wall, bats come out and flap around him, as they did the boy in the well, and the man in the southeast wing of Wayne Manor. I'm not a teary-eyed guy, but when that happened, I very nearly cried, realizing that this was indeed the end. The Nolan brother's script is a bit more fan-pleasing than the previous ones (and has some odd but wonderfully executed humor), but still, it ties together the continuity of the previous two nicely. Zimmer is stellar as usual (with his excellent Bane theme), Wally Pfister keeps the visual look consistent (even if he goes a little more glossy when shit hits the fan in Gotham), and the production design is stellar, with everything from Bane's costume, the setpieces, and of course, the Bat (now arguably my favorite Bat-vehicle. IT'S A FLYING TUMBLER!!) being of the highest grade.

The Inception Cast- Nolan brings the majority of his Inception cast with him to fill out the supporting roles (everybody but Leo DiCaprio, Ellen Page, and Ken Watanabe, who was already in Begins show up), and since that cast was so good, it does great work here as well. Tom Hardy is just fantastic as Bane. Maybe not Oscar-worthy like the late Heath Ledger (out of respect, the Joker isn't mentioned in this story), but he portrays so much with just his facial expressions and body language that it's striking. More on Bane later. Marion Cotillard is good but lacking as Miranda Tate, but once the reveal (which we basically all predicted over a year ago) kicks in, she becomes a great femme fatale, even if it's only for a brief while. Joseph Gordon-Levitt is very likable as John Blake, and is clearly meant to be akin to Batman from minute one. Like Batman, he's an orphan, and this personal tragedy has given him what Ra's Al Ghul in Begins called "the will to act". He could also be seen as an example of what Batman has inspired, in a more positive way. The end reveal was a bit cheesy (enough that I can't resist typing his full name as ROBIN John Blake), but still, he's a worthy inheritor to Batman's legend. Cillian Murphy also returns in a very funny bit as Scarecrow. And of course, Michael Caine is back and better than ever as Alfred, though he's regrettably absent from a large period of the movie (which could be seen as him having no place to plausibly fit in).

Christian Bale- Bale gives his finest performance of the series here. Despite that I think TDK is the best film of the trilogy, Bale was arguably at his worst there, though it's not entirely his fault. But here, Bale plays the broken Bruce Wayne, the rising Bruce Wayne, and Batman perfectly. They're all perfect. From the limp, to the unkempt appearance, to the graying hair, you really feel for Bruce early in the movie, and Bale portrays a truly tortured soul, even more than the self-destructive young man in the early goings of Begins.

Anne Hathaway- Everyone questioned this casting every step of the way, and I never had any damn idea why. Hathaway does have a very youthful appearance that could've hindered her believability as a sexy cat burglar, but she does somewhat resemble the Selina Kyle of the comics, and is a well-regarded actress worthy of the role. And when she seductively whispered that threat in Bruce's ear of "the coming storm", every male in the theater was kind of weirdly turned on, guaranteed. So, yeah, she was good, and I loved that she and Bruce had a happy ending.

The Scale- I already mentioned the scale above, but DAMN THIS FUCKER IS BIG. It's huge; its climax makes the alien invasion at the end of The Avengers look positively inconsequential, when the cops and Bane's forces go toe-to-toe, and Batman and Bane duke it out on the streets of Gotham. The Bat makes for some incredible action sequences, and a really great chase scene including Batman, Gordon, Fox, and Talia. Bane's dictatorship in Gotham makes the Joker's reign of terror in The Dark Knight look like damn child's play by comparison, and from the opening plane sequence, to the football  stadium scene, all the way to Bruce Batting the nuke away from Gotham, the sense of scale is palpable, and simply astounding. I can't believe Nolan convinced Warner Bros. to let him make this movie the way he did; I guess they agree with the "In Nolan We Trust" people too.


And now, for my last, key, and final positive, which also leads to a final minor issue:

Still thinking about that kid's lovely, lovely voice

Bane- Seriously, I LOVE LOVE LOVE Bane in this movie. As I said, Hardy's great in the role, and his voice is legitimately genius (in both an ironic and non-ironic way I say that), but there's more to it than that. No one was ever going to replace Ledger as the Joker, and that's why Nolan stayed as far away from his camp of villainy (Warner Bros. wanted to use the Riddler, which Nolan thought would have been a bad move), and ended up going with the complete opposite. Bane is easily one of my favorite Bat-villains; His meticulous strategic planning, brute destructive power, and of course, his breaking of the bat lets me overlook the strange S&M luchador gear he wears in the comics. Joel Schumacher abused and pissed all over the character in Batman and Robin, and then Arkham Asylum (the video game, not the movie), turned in a version disturbingly close to the skinny hopped up guy from Schumacher's film (though his cameo in an Arkham City subplot did make some amends towards this). All I wanted was a more faithful (to the personality, not the design) and fair adaptation of the character than we'd seen in other media before. But Nolan up and completely transformed the character, actually making him superior to the comic version (at least, until near the end). I love this Bane so much for two reasons:

1. Depth. On a superficial level, Bane seems like evil incarnate. He kills indiscriminately and without mercy, executing his own henchmen, the CIA agents, Dr. Pavel, and Daggett (the guy who'd HIRED him). He refers to himself in glorified statements like "Gotham's reckoning" and "a necessary evil". He blows up a football stadium in front of innocent people, executes the rich and police mercilessly (by death, exile, or DEATH BY EXILE, one of my favorite moments in the whole film), and plans to blow them all up after they've suffered, breaking Gotham in both body and soul. And yet, when he hears the kid sing the Anthem, he goes "what a lovely, lovely voice" (which, in Bane's tones, in the funniest line ever committed to film), and holds a protective love for Talia, showing that he can still care and see beauty, even while acting like a revolutionary sociopathic terrorist.

2. Presence. While I have noted that Bane is fleshed out, and can also be quite funny, the full reality of the character is that he's COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY TERRIFYING. The Joker was completely and utterly terrifying as well, but in the opposite way. The Joker had presence through the reverberations of his actions, and the fact that he was always one step ahead of damn near everyone else. His mystique also added to the fear; we never really found out who he was or where he came from, so we had no idea how he was shaped into the madman he became. Therefore, we had absolutely no idea what he was actually thinking at any given moment, sans the scene where Batman interrogates him. Bane was born in the darkness of the pit ("Born and raised in Hell on Earth", as Alfred put it), became incapacitated by injuries and became dependent on his mask. Ra's threw him out of the League for being too radical; as in, the guy who wanted to FEAR-GAS AN ENTIRE CITY thought he was too radical. His physicality must be seen to be believed; he's a damn force of nature. But going back to the Joker comparison, I think it boils down to one thing: The Joker was scary because you never knew what he was going to do. Bane is scary because you know EXACTLY what he's going to do, and it's the most evil plan ever concocted by a sane man ever.  Ledger can't be topped, but Bane comes damn close by doing the opposite.

The one possible mistake with Bane is that he's serving Talia. This could be seen as a slight to his character; were they mutual partners, or was he merely her protector and enforcer? I'd like to think it was a partnership, as it takes away all of the "reckoning" that he was talking about. Also, if Selina killed him with her Batpod guns, that's an unfair death to the character.

Catwoman likes guns. Guns on A Batpod is still weird.

So, with all that said, the inevitable question comes: is Rises better than The Dark Knight? Well, no. But how could it be? The Dark Knight had a singularly unified core, it never wasted a single scene, and it had a virtuosic performer in Ledger. Rises, while still an excellent movie, lacks these things. There are a few wasted scenes here, some disparities that never really come together, and while I already stated my love for Bane, Ledger is sorely missed. I would argue that it's a good deal above Batman Begins, though, which had an excellent first hour and a half but was marred by a troublesome third act. This has a similar issue, in that its first hour has minor issues (though not nearly as flawed as the third act of Begins), before its second and third acts deliver thrills, chills, and plenty of emotion. The ending was the perfect capper to Nolan's trilogy, with Bruce and Selina getting happy endings, Alfred being content, Gordon and Fox being Gordon and Fox, and finally, ROBIN John Blake inheriting the Batcave. When Alfred sitting in that restaurant, me thinking Bruce is dead, and the same wonderful closing Zimmer theme that played at the end of The Dark Knight is trumpeting, when the signature Batman music starts to drum up as Alfred looks up, I felt one of the last doors to my youth closing forever. As the elevator in the Batcave begins to ascend and the black begins to fill the screen, the full impact hit me: it's over. And Nolan delivered. 

The Dark Knight Rises gets a 9.75 out of 10. (I can't in good conscience take any more off for the minor issues).

Also, I don't want to see another Batman movie for 30 years. I will probably not get this wish. 

This cheap photoshop job of a poster was the worst thing about the movie.

The Amazing Spider-Man Review

Is it a reboot? Or a preboot? Or is it this Untold Story?

I've never really been a comic book fan (though I've occasionally perused a Batman comic or two in the bookstore), but I'd still argue that the character of Spider-Man has played a large role in my exposure to pop culture, particularly due to growing up with the original Spider-Man trilogy. I remember seeing the first film in a Blockbuster rental in 2003, Spider-Man 2 on cable in 2005, and finally the overwhelmingly disappointing Spider-Man 3 in theaters upon its release five years ago. Looking back on them now, I can see them through both the rose-colored glasses of a kid, and the more discerning pop-culture eye of a college student. And while they're all somewhat silly and flawed, to be sure (especially the egregiously  overpacked and undercooked Spider-Man 3), they're still a hell of a lot of fun, and also nice pieces of filmmaking, mainly due to the clever and ingenious direction of cult horror master Sam Raimi. Anyways, the point is, once Spider-Man 4 was shut down due to creative differences between Raimi and the studio 2 years back (probably because he was still a little sour because of Venom being forced on him in 3, as well), a supposedly "grittier" reboot was announced with a new director and cast almost immediately afterward, with Marc Webb (director of the delightfully genre-defying and quirky rom-com (500) Days of Summer) signing on very shortly thereafter. Then we got a likable cast together, a shooting schedule, and finally, some trailers. Still, through all this, I remained very skeptical of this new take on the wall-crawler. It seemed almost emo in its approach, and I also found the choice to release it in summer 2012 (where it will inevitably suffer future comparisons to The Avengers and the forthcoming The Dark Knight Rises (NOTE: Check back for a review on that later this week)) highly questionable. Nevertheless, last week, I got my ticket (through the original Spider-Man Blu-ray movie money, FREE MOVIE FTW), and sat down to watch this supposedly "Untold Story" of Peter Parker. My verdict after the pic.

By combining a TERRIFYING LIZARD with a SWEET BOY, thus creating: the LIZARDMAN!!!

First things first, the whole idea of The Amazing Spider-Man being this amazing "Untold Story" is mostly a load of BS. Despite some noteworthy plot differences, the main trajectory of this reboot primarily adheres to the same plot points and character arc that Tobey Maguire's Peter Parker faced 10 years ago, radioactive spiders, murdered uncles, mad scientists, secret identities and all. This is the one major complaint I had with the film, and the ending in particular kind of pissed me off in this regard. It's ultimately what keeps the film from becoming a totally new take on the character, and makes comparisons to Raimi's film inevitable from here on out. So, in this vein, before I actually review the film on its own merits, I must expand on the first three.

I do indeed like the Raimi films quite a bit, despite feeling that Tobey Maguire was actually TOO geeky to correctly play Peter Parker, Kirsten Dunst was static and boring, and James Franco was only good when Harry Osborn wasn't consumed with desire for vengeance. Spider-Man suffers from cheesy effects and a script written by the dialogue-challenged David Koepp, but still succeeds at being a fun, if melodramatic, take on the web-slinger, complete with a delightfully campy and insane performance from Willem Dafoe as archvillain Green Goblin. 2 is unquestionably the best of the trilogy, giving us a more believable romance, some interesting side hooks that expand the mythology, an actually realistic depiction on balancing the life of a superhero with that of a normal dude (a weird oasis of realism in a desert of over-the-top comic book silliness), and a confident and expertly motivated antagonist in Alfred Molina's Doc Ock. 3, as I said above, is where it all came crashing down. Raimi attempting to thread the story far too thin, with too many plotlines, villains, and melodramatic scenes. In addition, scenes and characters that should have been played dark (Venom and the black suit) are instead played for awkward comedy, with a fatally miscast Topher Grace in an all-too-brief role as Spidey's symbiotic foil. I can speak positively of the first 30-45 minutes of the film, and of Thomas Haden Church as Sandman, but in all, once the symbiote appears on the suit, the movie goes off the rails. And that failure, coupled with awful rumors of Anne Hathaway as the "Vulturess" in Spider-Man 4, makes me feel that a reboot may not have been totally unjustified.

So, after all these words, on to the general topic: On its own terms, how did I feel about The Amazing Spider-Man? After low expectations, and a free ticket, I feel that, as a matter of fact, The Amazing Spider-Man was surprisingly good, and that despite the lack of a need for a reboot and similar plot points, it retroactively justifies its own existence. After co-screenwriter James Vanderbilt's original script was described as being akin to Batman Begins, I was concerned that this new take on the character would be overly and unnecessarily dark, and that the nerdier aspects of Peter Parker in Raimi's film would give way to an overly punkish and emo one. NEWSFLASH: SPIDER-MAN DRESSES UP IN A UNITARD, SWINGS FROM MECHANICAL WEBSHOOTERS (at least in Webb's version), AND CAPTURES CRIMINALS AND BATTLES RIDICULOUS BATSHIT INSANE JEKYLL+HYDE VILLAINS WHILE SNARKING AT THEM AND PROFITEERING BY TAKING PHOTOGRAPHS OF HIMSELF. No matter what you do, this would be inherently silly when placed in a gritty, totally realistic setting, so rather than going for realism, Webb and co. wisely went the route of last summer's Rise of the Planet of the Apes, starting out realistic, and as the more traditional comic-booky elements of Spider-Man began to take shape, they gradually increased the sci-fi wattage, hoping that by the time Spider-Man is battling a big green lizardman on top of the Oscorp tower while attempting to stop him from turning New York's entire population into lizardmen using chemical gas (which is, BTW, the FOURTH time in a comic book movie that this was the villain's evil plot, after Batman 1989, X-Men, and Begins), we've fully suspended our disbelief, and for the most part, it works. However, it does take one really useful leaf out of the Christopher Nolan book, and that is in the transformation of the character of Peter Parker. Whereas Tobey Maguire wasn't Spider-Man, and then Uncle Ben was murdered and he was, Andrew Garfield (who gives an ACES performance in this, with all the stuttering, shyness, and snark that both Parker and Spidey should have) slowly but surely becomes the hero. Uncle Ben (played excellently and with feeling by none other than Winning Sr., Martin Sheen) is murdered, he goes on a quest for vengeance, is inspired (by a WRESTLING ARENA, wink wink) to use the Spider as a symbol, the same way Bruce was in Begins to use bats by a childhood terror, makes the webshooters for travel, begins to look for his uncle's killer, and is eventually, by the arrival of the Lizard and through forced superheroics, fully convinced to become a superhero. It's a far more emotional and human take on the character, only bolstered by the way more charming and convincing romance. Emma Stone is irresistibly charming in virtually everything she's in, and Gwen Stacy is no exception, sharing great chemistry with Garfield and succeeding as both a romantic and intellectual equal for Parker. Rhys Ifans is OK as Curt Connors, but the Lizard (despite being my favorite Spidey villain) never really succeeds as more than a plot device, and the CGI is occasionally a tad hammy (and I shall forever bemoan the largely absent "ALLIGATOR IN A LAB COAT" image from the comic books). James Horner's new theme will one day be highly spoken of (maybe never quite as iconic as Elfman's theme for Raimi's movies, but nevertheless good), the effects and action sequences are thrilling, and the drama is quite satisfying, with Webb's sensibilities from his last film clearly carrying over, and totally justifying him as director of a tentpole franchise. 

The mystery of Ben Parker's killer, mixed with the romantic set-up, the Parker family conspiracy, the references to Norman Osborn (and maybe to a "Night Gwen Stacy Died" direction for a sequel), and the promise of more deftly balanced drama and action definitely bring together enough material for a nice little franchise here. The Amazing Spider-Man may not be "the Untold Story", necessary, or even wanted, but it's good fun, and sometimes, that's enough. After Doc Ock's outing in Raimi's first trilogy, it's probably #2 out of the 4 Spider-Man movies.

I will not dance in a jazz club in black tights and cut my emo hair....

The Amazing Spider-Man gets an 8 out of 10.

Ranking Christopher Nolan's Movies .

With the release of my most (and from what I suspect, a SHIT-TON of everyone else) anticipated film of the year, The Dark Knight Rises, a mere three and a half weeks away from release, I figured now would be a good time to look back on the films of the man who made this gritty cinematic reinvention of the Dark Knight possible: Christopher Nolan.

So, it's Chris Nolan, Billy Costigan, and Juno all in a room...

Along with David Fincher, Nolan is easily one of my favorite contemporary directors. An auteur with a vision all his own, Nolan has yet, in my opinion, to make a bad film. Rather, he's made seven films over the last 15 years that linger in varying degrees of "good" to "masterpiece" quality. I must admit that I have not seen Nolan's little indie debut, Following, as of now (but I plan to very, very soon, probably before TDKR is released), so I will cover his 6 most well-known pictures, ranking them from worst to best.

First, number 6:

Insomnia

Insomnia, Nolan's first movie working with a more mainstream cast, as well as the only film in his canon that is a remake (1997 Swedish movie) is definitely the worst of his six movies that I've seen, but by no means is it bad, or even less than good. Simply, it's the worst of the only because it's the most simple and straightforward, the one that doesn't really have much to say or show off. Rather, it's simply telling a story, one of a cop who, after accidentally killing his partner (with whom he was embroiled in a prickly Internal Affairs situation), becomes increasingly paranoid and wary while on the hunt for a serial killer, which is only made worse by both the killer's manipulations and the insomnia caused by both the moral unrest and the fact that the case is taking place in 24-hours-a-day lit Alaska. Despite its simplicity, and Nolan's rather workmanlike direction, the movie is driven by the commanding performances from its leads. Al Pacino gives his last really great performance on film to date as the insomniac detective Will Dormer, and Robin Williams gives a chillingly creepy turn as the killer, Walter Finch. Compared to Nolan's other deeper, labyrinthine films, Insomnia is rather simple and to-the-point; this makes it worthy of his body of work, but not as standout or memorable as his other movies.

5:

Well, read the banner.

The Prestige is also unique among Nolan's movies; where Insomnia was a remake, The Prestige was an adaptation of a novel by Christopher Priest, about two former magician friends who become embroiled in a bitter rivalry, in their quest to achieve the ultimate illusion. Where Insomnia was simple, The Prestige is deep and convoluted, a story of obsession and sacrifice in pursuit of an impossible dream. Truth be told, I love many things about this one; the only reason why it's so low on the list is because it suffers the opposite problem of Insomnia, in that its reach exceeds its grasp and it ultimately gets too damn convoluted. The movie has at least one too many plot twists, and the ending is somewhat disappointing in that it fails to provide a truly fair explanation. That being said, it's definitely an exciting and extremely fun flick worth watching, with Hugh Jackman, Christian Bale, and Michael Caine all delivering top-notch performances. It's also a beautifully shot period piece, with Wally Pfister's talent as a cinematographer never being more on display. It's also got a great and eclectic supporting cast, including Scarlett Johansson, Andy Serkis (in non-mocap form for once), Rebecca Hall, and get this, David freakin' Bowie as Nikola Goddamn Tesla. So, yeah, I'd say this one's pretty awesome, if a little too smart for its own good.

4:

Why do we fall? So we can learn to Rise on July 20.

Batman Begins. So, at #4, we finally have reached a point in the list where I can begin to talk about Nolan's Batman trilogy. Batman Begins, as a guy who lived most of his childhood in the 2000s, was the first Nolan flick I saw, in the theater shortly after its release in June 2005. Batman had long been my favorite superhero, but as a non-comic book reader, I was unsure as to what I would think of a new interpretation of the character. Tim Burton's two Batman movies were stylish, freakish fun, mostly like Burton's other films, but they missed the character by a wide margin. Batman in Burton's eyes was a neurotic, sociopathic recluse who had no real moral code to speak of, nor a real mission or motive behind his actions. Schumacher's was even worse, taking Batman away from the treatment that he deserved back into horribly dated Adam West territory. Nolan finally brought the character back to cultural significance, by giving us a Bruce Wayne who, in a very intimate and human way, grows from the poor rich kid who's parents were murdered by a mugger, to the disgruntled and revenge-seeking young man, and finally, into the Caped Crusader. Bale really made us care for both sides of the character, as we finally were able to dig into on film who Batman was and what motivated him. In addition to Bale, we got Caine as Alfred, Liam Neeson as the mentor/villain, and Morgan Freeman as Batman's armorer. The only real faults of Begins were the somewhat inconsistent comic-booky elements (particularly the villain's evil plan), and the way the movie had difficulty transitioning from Batman's origin to his first obstacle. Oh, and Katie Holmes' acting. That probably knocked this shit down a peg all by itself.

T-3:

Do you want to take a leap of faith? Or become an actor in old-man makeup, filled with regret...

I was unable to decide between my #3 and #2 choices, so simply, they will be tied at 3rd, below #1. The first of these two is Nolan's most recent release, the mind-bending big-budget opus known as Inception. Upon its release, some (myself included) were singing the heavenly praises to this one, referring to it as Nolan's best, and one of the best ever as well. While that may have been slight hyperbole, Inception remains, even in repeat viewings, as a really goddamn awesome movie. The complexities of the plot may fall away in repeat viewings, revealing the straightforward action movie with a dream twist (as well as a few surprisingly well-timed emotional moments) underneath, that is still a fairly top-notch film in every sense of the word. Nolan's script juggles between dream worlds and realities seamlessly, bringing the dead, the living, and the imaginary together, ghosts of the past and hopes for the future all put together. Leonardo DiCaprio gives a strong performance as the lead, and Ellen Page, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Ken Watanabe Tom Hardy, Michael Caine, and Marion Cotillard all excel as well in roles of varying screentime. Hans Zimmer's score is virtuosic, building on the style he established in Nolan's Bat-films, and Lee Smith's editing between dreamscapes is simply breathtaking. Inception may be a tad overrated, but it's still a great, great film, and definitely high up in Nolan's canon.

T-3:

Remember Sammy Jankis. And John G. And Teddy. And Natalie. All on tattoos and photos.

Tied with Inception on my list is Nolan's breakout film, and probably the one most indicative of his directorial talent, Memento. Much like Inception, Memento stages a totally awesome and insane juggling act of its own, moving between backwards and forwards in time seamlessly through use of black and white, with both the beginning and end of the story at the film's opening, before finally meeting at the middle. This perfectly reflects Leonard Shelby's own disorientation due to his anterograde amnesia, so that we are as confused and befuddled as he is as he searches for his quarry, John G., the possible murderer of his wife. Along with his search come potential helpers or thorns in his search, in the form of Teddy (a supposed cop helping him), and Natalie (a barmaid in a relationship with a man Leonard once encountered in his search). Guy Pearce also sells the hell out of his role, perfectly conveying the confusion and frustration of his character, while Carrie-Anne Moss is appropriately ambiguous, and Joe Pantoliano slimy. Memento definitely has a superior use of unconventional narrative when compared to Inception, but is merely tied with it for one reason: Inception tells a more compelling story. If the orchestration of the various dream sublevels in Inception weren't there, we would still care about Cobb's story probably just as much. Would we care about Leonard if we had a better idea throughout the film of what was troubling him? Probably not. So, despite Memento being an arguably superior piece of filmmaking craft, it lands in a tie with the more epic and ambitious Inception. 

And now, number 1 (though you've almost definitely figured out which it is by now):

This was the movie we deserved, and the one we needed right then, so we saw it. Because it was not a superhero movie. It was a crime drama, a dark meditation on truth and morality, it was The Dark Knight.

Yes, I'm going to go with what is usually considered the common knowledge here, and go ahead and pick The Dark Knight as Nolan's best film, and his masterpiece. It's easily one of my favorite movies ever, simply because of what it does with the character of Batman: it transcends his humble origins on the page of a comic book and turns his story into a wild, crazy crime saga, a cerebral thriller that focuses on basic human themes such as truth and morals, but also branched out into headier political areas such as terrorism, government, escalation of crime, inspiration, pessimism vs. optimism, altruism, freedom for security, and sacrifice in the name of the greater good. It's simply the defining example of a superior sequel that completely went above and beyond it predecessor, taking everything Batman Begins did right, soaring above all it did wrong, and then going far above even that. It also actually makes Batman Begins look better as well, by lifting up the flaws of that movie that plagued it as a standalone. Nolan's direction was also at its all-time high, his script with Jonathan Nolan was dense, not wasting a damn second of the 152 minutes, and his cast was incredible. Bale and Caine kept the story of Batman front and center in a heavily populated movie, Gary Oldman added more dimensions to the character of James Gordon, and Oscar-winner Heath Ledger (in the greatest I-told-you-so performance in cinematic history) and Aaron Eckhart delivered virtuosic performances that brought their villains complexity rarely seen on the page. So, yeah, I could rave about this one all day, but it's Nolan's best, and it, more than anything, excites me for what's to come. 

Nolan had Thomas Wayne pose the question to a young Bruce Wayne in Batman Begins: "Why do we fall? So we can learn to pick ourselves up". In The Dark Knight, both Bruce Wayne and Batman certainly fell hard. So, as the title telegraphs the arc of the saga, in the final installment, The Dark Knight shall Rise. In three weeks. And judging from this stellar canon listed above, there is no reason to have any other reaction besides "I absolutely cannot wait". 

Nolan's Ratings:

Insomnia - 7.5 out of 10

The Prestige - 8.5 out of 10

Batman Begins - 9 out of 10

Inception - 9.5 out of 10

Memento - 9.5 out of 10

The Dark Knight - 10 out of 10

Let that goddamn fire rise.

The Newsroom - Pilot Review

The Newsroom, or Sorkin's idea of one?

Despite my political disagreements with his outlook, Aaron Sorkin is arguably one of my favorite screenwriters. He's got a real knack for taking potentially mundane or dull subject matter and turning it into compelling, even exciting, drama. For a frame of reference to this, see his scripts for Moneyball or The Social Network. So, despite never viewing his previous TV projects (which was before my time), Sports Night or The West Wing, I was a. t least intrigued at the prospect of his first cable series, HBO's The Newsroom. So, I sat down last night to watch the series premiere "We Just Decided To", with my opinions potentially colored by some negative press I read about the show. Many decried the show for being inaccurate in regards to the inner workings of the titular setting, or for being rather bombastic in its liberal political approach, or even for the characters being simply unlikable people. After viewing the pilot, I feel that these criticisms are, at least for the moment, mostly unfounded. Based on "We Just Decided To", I found The Newsroom to be a flawed, slightly politically slanted, but very well-written, extremely well-acted, and overall, a quite entertaining 75 minutes of television (Though I presume that every subsequent ep will be back down to HBO's usual 50-60). The show quickly starts off with a bang, opening with news anchor Will McAvoy being pushed into an almost Howard Beale-esque rant about how America is not the greatest country in the world anymore. It's a superbly written and executed opening, directed in an almost disorienting fashion by Superbad helmer Greg Mottola, making us feel the great pressure by McAvoy to both suppress his opinions and speak his mind at the same time. And with this opening comes the resurrection of the acting career of Jeff Daniels, who delivers a sardonic, angry, and slam-bang performance, making McAvoy instantly believable as a restrained and frustrated news anchor. Yeah, the representation of the newsroom itself may be a bit inaccurate (I'm no expert, though), but at least it's got a stellar cast in its stable. Emily Mortimer brings an unexpected confidence to the table as McAvoy's new exec producer Mackenzie MacHale, with an excellently hostile dynamic quickly established between her and Daniels, only bolstered by Sorkin's per-usual excellent dialogue. Great supporting turns come from John Gallagher Jr. (as the mysteriously well-informed producer Jim Harper), Alison Pill as Maggie Jordan (the meek but efficient intern-turned-assistant-turned-associate producer), Thomas Sadoski as Don Keefer, Slumdog Millionaire star Dev Patel as blog writer Neal Sampat, and Sam Waterston as ACN president Charlie Skinner. Thomas Newman's music is also very Aaron Sorkin, very reminiscent of Trent Reznor's score for The Social Network, as well as Mychael Danna's score for Moneyball. The Newsroom has quirks and political leanings that may begin to overwhelm my enjoyment in the coming weeks, but as of right now, it's a good solid watch with an excellent lead performance from Jeff Daniels, and looks to be another win for Sorkin.

"We Just Decided To" gets an 8 out of 10.

A Tale of Two Sherlocks - Part II

Conspiracies, detectives, exploding woods, and Moriarties

Looking back down my blog history, one might recall a compare/contrast post I did almost a year ago now, called A Tale of Two Sherlocks, that discussed the casting, premise, and execution of two very different adaptations of the original works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, one which moved into a modern setting yet stayed truer to the stories, whereas the other kept the Victorian setting, but went for a more bombastic, stylish to the point of steampunk, Hollywoodized action-fest that still managed to be well-characterized and entertaining. And now, having seen the second series of the Steven Moffat-headed BBC series Sherlock, as well as the Guy Ritchie sequel Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows, I have returned once again, this time to evaluate the second act of these respective stories. Again, I feel I must reiterate that I believe Jeremy Brett's Holmes is THE definitive version of the character. Period. Robert Downey Jr. and Benedict Cumberbatch are terrific actors, to be sure, but they don't exude the exact quality that made Brett feel like Doyle's creation straight off the page. Anyways, on we go. This time, I'll do Sherlock first:

Joker ain't got nothing on me.

Sherlock basically continues onward, exactly as you would expect, for the first two episodes of Moffat's second series. I found "A Scandal in Belgravia" (Of course, a riff on the classic "A Scandal in Bohemia" tale from Doyle's canon) to be somewhat of a disappointing first installment, quickly brushing aside Moriarty and the explosive (LOL) bomb jacket cliffhanger from Series 1's "The Great Game" in favor of a side story loosely connected to the Moriarty story, but mostly a standalone tale, featuring the most vanilla incarnation of Irene Adler ever. Certainly, Lara Pulver does an admirable job with the material given, and shows some fearlessness in certain scenes (the nude sequence surprisingly served a purpose, to throw Holmes off his game), but the character ends up feeling like a mere underling/pawn between Holmes and Moriarty, and lacks the general femme fatale feel that Rachel McAdams brought to the role so ably in Ritchie's film. It succeeded in moving the story forward, and I enjoyed the meta elements (mentioning various Holmes cases while also referencing the deerstalker's cap and other Holmes iconography), but the Adler elements were disappointingly lacking. Thankfully, this was quickly rectified in the second episode, a standalone, but Moffat's take on one of the best Holmes stories, that being "The Hounds of Baskerville". Many critics hated this one, criticizing it for its placement, similar to last season's "The Blind Banker", but I personally thought that it was fantastic, sufficing as an imaginative modern spin on the classic "Hound of the Baskervilles", while giving us some excellent Holmes-Watson face time. Did I mention that Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman continue to excel in their roles? No? Well, they both seamlessly carry over from the first series, perfectly modernizing the classic duo while staying true to the characters of the original stories. However, they, as well as Andrew Scott as Moriarty, take it to a whole new level in the virtuosic finale, "The Reichenbach Fall". It perfectly turns the entire series (and I mean all 6 episodes) completely on their heads, making us question all of the events thus far, as well as Holmes' integrity, and Moriarty's true identity, leading to a frankly trascendent climactic scene where Moriarty is revealed to be the orchestrator of all the events. Scott strays pretty far from the source material in his manic, mood-swinging Machiavelli, but creates a whole new interpretation all the same, owing just as much to Heath Ledger's Joker as he does Doyle's character. It is also the later scenes of "The Reichenbach Fall" where Cumberbatch and Freeman are at their best, bringing levels of heightened emotion to their characters, and leaving us with one heart-wrenching hell of a cliffhanger. It's hard to tell where Sherlock will go now (other than at least part of the first episode of series 3 adapting "The Empty House"), but I have confidence in Moffat, Cumberbatch, and Freeman, and we'll see what happens. Now, on to Ritchie's own Moriarty-infused sequel, Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows:

It takes a lot to match wits with Tony Stark

Many have lambasted A Game of Shadows as Ritchie and screenwriters Kieran and Michele Mulroney ignoring what made his take on Holmes work last time, relying instead on noisy action sequences and an overly complicated mystery plot. However, I feel that it's a pretty logical extension of what Ritchie set out to do the first time around, and especially in light of the arrival of the BBC series, it was wise to take the sequel further in the action direction. It allows the film to still be tied to Doyle's stories without ruining them, and presenting a fresh, slick, and exciting take on the proceedings of Doyle's "The Final Problem", complete with gypsies, much witty Holmes-Watson banter, and ACTUAL Reichenbach Falls for Holmes and Moriarty to grapple over. It is disappointing, however, that Rachel McAdams' role had to be cut short. Noomi Rapace does the best she can, but Simza is simply a plot device, not a character, and Irene Adler could have organically worked in the role as well. They also really underused Jared Harris as Moriarty, who isn't as central as his role in the plot should suggest he be. It's even more disappointing when you see how good Harris is in the role. As good as Scott is on Sherlock, his character isn't really like the character written in Doyle's stories, instead going for a more manic take in "Jim Moriarty". Harris, on the other hand, is a dead ringer for the iconic professor. From talking about how Holmes has been "disrupting" and "meddling" in his plans, to matching wits with the detective every step of the way, to his almost banal, gentlemanlike manner with just a hint of the rage boiling underneath occasionally escaping to the surface, I am so happy they cast for quality rather than big names (Brad Pitt and Daniel Day-Lewis, great actors though they are, wouldn't have been good fits). Anyone who's seen Fringe or Mad Men can attest to Harris' aristocratic style, and Fringe definitely sells his ability to go all Hannibal Lecter on people. And he brings this to Moriarty, making for an ideal antagonist to the bonkers, bohemian character that is Downey's Holmes. Downey still exudes charisma, even if he's still not a perfect take on the detective, and Law is still a capable and sardonic Watson. Ritchie's direction improves, and while the script may have some problems, I think that A Game of Shadows matches its predecessor time and time again.

So, in conclusion, the second series of Sherlock does best the movie, but not by as much as you'd think. I implore for people to think of them separately rather than competing, and would hope everyone can enjoy both. Sherlock offers a deeper, more deductive take with a far more insane and personal villain, while A Game of Shadows offers a fun, big-budget, popcorn style adventure with far higher stakes for the world at large. Just watch both. You probably won't be disappointed with either, as long as you go in with the right mindset.

Sherlock Series 2:

"A Scandal in Belgravia" - 7/10

"The Hounds of Baskerville" - 9/10

"The Reichenbach Fall" - 10/10

Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows - 8/10

You said it, Jim.

Prometheus - The Alien Connection

Well, hullo, Space Jockey. Been waiting 33 years for you.

WARNING: MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR SPOILERS FOR PROMETHEUS (AND ALIEN, OBVIOUSLY) AHEAD. IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE FILM, STAY THE FLYING FUCKBAGS AWAY.

As I stated in my Prometheus review on Saturday, there are some very divisive feelings on this film so far, with some labeling it as Ridley Scott's Phantom Menace, some calling Damon Lindelof and Jon Spaihts horrible scriptwriting hacks, and many unfavorable comparisons to Alien abound. And while some comparisons to Scott's former monster movie are certainly warranted, I felt that comparing Prometheus to it is rather unfair. While Prometheus may not be as good as Alien (though, as stated in my review, I enjoyed the hell out of it), it is also aiming for a different tone, and also aspires to heights far higher than Scott's 1979 film did. As such, with all the negative contrasts appearing on the Internet, I chose not to rewatch Alien before going to see the movie (though I did rewatch Blade Runner earlier this week, but that was more just because it's one of my favorite movies), and I felt that probably helped me from avoiding comparisons. Nevertheless, there were many verbatim lines and visual references between the two, and my many viewings of Alien still lingered in my mind. And now, I wish to explore in words the exact vein between Prometheus and Alien. Is it a prequel or not? MAJOR SPOILERS AFTER THE PHOTO, AND POSSIBLY IN IT:

Yep. Body armor. A tad disappointing, but had to be to fit with the movie's themes.

OK, here it is: Prometheus is completely, totally, unmistakably, and 100% certainly an Alien prequel. Despite all the misdirection thrown around by Lindelof, Scott, and others over the last couple of years, saying keen fans would recognize "strands of Alien's DNA" and such, it is pretty clear that they are set in the same universe (despite some backwards prequel tech, but that's technically explainable by the fact that the Nostromo was a simple commercial towing ship, while the Prometheus was a super-advanced, prototypical science vessel), and deal with a very similar chain of events. Tossing aside scenes like Shaw wandering around skimpily dressed (like Ripley in the original's climax) or Holloway telling David that "we are leaving", much as Hicks informed the Colonial Marines in Aliens (I DO like that Scott references James Cameron's film as well, thus recognizing its importance, in spite of his disappointment at being left out of that sequel's development), or hell, even how the title fades into existence in the same way Alien does in its credits (or as both did in their respective teaser trailers), the movie has many visual and technological references, like the hypersleep pods, the land rovers, the similar-looking spacesuits (even if the new films' suits are a bit more fanciful in design), and of course, finally answering the multi-decade question: Who the hell are the Space Jockeys? And as it turns out, they're pretty much our God, referred to in the film as "the Engineers" (I'm just gonna keep callin' em Space Jockeys, K?). They created us, and then became displeased with us, so they chose to destroy us with the help of the black goo (It's implied, at least I think, that Jesus Christ was a Jockey, and that his crucifixion is what caused them to turn on us). The iconic elephant-ish design from the original film turns out to be simply body armor (which, as I stated above, was slightly disappointing), covering up the giant white hairless humanoids inside, but it fits with the movie's themes of life and creationism and such, and still, the humanoid design, combined with their awesome costume design, was still pretty damn effective (it didn't hurt that the one Space Jockey we see alive was played by none other than Gregor Clegane). It's also implied, through the evolution caused by the black goo (which I will get to in a moment), that the Space Jockeys planned to use the goo as a bioweapon to wipe out humanity, to "clean out planets", such as suggested in the plot elements suggested by Scott and Spaihts years ago, back when it was a definitive prequel. Also, in a wise move for creative freedom, Scott chose to use a new planet, LV-223, instead of bringing back LV-426, allowing them to work with a whole different planet, derelict ship, and Space Jockey, so that when the ending doesn't match Alien, it doesn't matter, since IT'S NOT EVEN THE SAME DAMN PLANET (I emphasize this because a lot of people have suggested this constitutes a plot hole. Idiots). The black goo's power is eventually shown, from when David infects Holloway, who then proceeds to put his own goo into Shaw, and that goo festers inside her uterus, leading to the birth of a beautiful little alien tentacle monster (in just about the only sequence of the film I'm truly shaky about; I agree with the haters that the logic there is a bit flawed, albeit not totally senseless). Due to the goo's accelerated evolution, the tentacle monster grows to enormous size, allowing Shaw to use it to kill the Last Jockey when it comes for her, jumping on top of it, and eventually splitting the Space Jockey's chest open. And that's about it, thanks for reading.

Oh, right, I forgot! Yeah, and then this thing erupts from the Jockey's chest:

If the original xeno's head is a phallic reference, then I'm an erect penis.

Now, I was totally surprised the film actually went this way. I went in fully prepared to see no Xenomorphs at all, and then, while we did not get the Alien Warrior's final form, we were shown that the black goo's Shaw-Holloway tentacle baby was basically a giant facehugger, and that the above-pictured Proto-Xeno is most likely the Jockey's chestburster. Many moviegoers complained that the Proto Xeno looked goofy, or not Giger-ish enough, but I won't hear it. It's most likely not even the final  form of this particular little xeno, and that it will grow into a big giant God-Alien, or something like that, maybe even being the mother of the entire Xenomorph race, laying a bunch of eggs in the abandoned derelict ship that the Nostromo finds. I know, 30 years is a bit little for evolution like that, but with the black goo's accelerated evo path, who knows what's possible? Besides, the idea that the aliens that gave Ripley so much grief in the series started with a goo-lovechild between Shaw and Holloway is INSANELY AWESOME in my book. Also, the Proto-Xeno's appearance bolsters the idea that the black goo was planned to be used as a bioweapon. Maybe the Jockeys even knew that the Xenos (or something like them) would be born from the goo, and THEY were the bioweapon. DAMN. So many possibilities, so much to ponder. 

I will not deny that Prometheus does feel incomplete at times, almost like it needs a sequel to be completely told. But isn't one of the points of movies, especially in the case of those from Ridley Scott, to cause debate and get people talking about ideas and theories? Prometheus, though it may not be as smart as it claims, ultimately gets me to keep thinking about it, and that's why it's one of my favorites of the year so far (it's pretty close to a tie with The Avengers, which I loved for almost the opposite reasons), and is indeed a return to form for Scott. Bring on the sequel. From the opening weekend's draw, it certainly seems like a strong possibility.

It's not the same explosion, but it's a great one nonetheless.

Prometheus Review & 2012 Recap

Humanity, Black Goo of Death, Easter Island Heads, the usual alien creations

So, I'm back. After a very long hiatus (5 months, my last review was of IMAX MI4, a Blu-ray I own now LOL), due to the increasing pressures of real life, I'm going to return to (at least) writing movie reviews, with maybe some TV (I'll review Season 5 of Breaking Bad, maybe Falling Skies if I watch it). Also, I'm going to rate out of 10 now. 5 stars is so imprecise and unnecessarily convoluted, don't you think? And honestly, I couldn't think of a better kickoff of my return to blogging than the review of one of my most anticipated films of the year, Prometheus. FYI, my favorites of the year so far are The Avengers (that was pure fun), The Cabin in the Woods (gloriously meta comedy-horror), The Grey (effective survival tale with a powerhouse Liam Neeson), and Chronicle (the best found-footage flick I've seen). As for disappointments, Haywire was OK but a bit of a disappointment (more expected from Soderbergh), and Snow White and the Huntsman was a colossally unexpected turd, just a joyless plodding fantasy. I have yet to see The Hunger Games or John Carter, but plan to in the future. Anyway, enough recap, on to Prometheus. Read the review following this oddly creepy Michael Fassbender photo. BTW, this will probably end up being an EPICALLY LONG review.

Charlize Theron and old Guy Pearce, mummy and daddy.

Prometheus is, of course, a movie with a massive hype machine that's been around it since the project was announced as an Alien prequel over three years ago. First it was a Carl Erik Rinsch-directed prequel (who went on to do 47 Ronin with Keanu Reeves, GOD HELP HIM), then a Ridley Scott-directed, Jon Spaihts-scripted prequel (who went on to write that massive turd, The Darkest Hour), with various rumored titles, including Paradise (now stated to be the title for a potential Prometheus sequel) and Alien Harvest (reminded me way too much of Alien Resurrection). Then Damon Lindelof, the co-creator of Lost, was hired to rewrite, and suddenly, the project took on a whole new scope. Scott and Lindelof were said to be taking the story in a more original standalone direction. I'd love to read Spaihts' original draft, which apparently had the same basic story outline as the final film, but included the classic Alien tropes, including facehuggers, chestbursters, full-fledged Xenomorphs, and so on. Lindelof apparently suggested to him that the familiar elements had a very "been there, done that" feel, and that the story would survive cutting them, for a grander and more epic-in-scope piece. Eventually, about a year and a half ago, Prometheus was announced, and much to my surprise, would be released in 2012. Casting soon followed, with Noomi Rapace, Fassbender, Idris Elba, Charlize Theron, Guy Pearce (who had more screentime in his viral TED Talk 2023 clip than in the actual movie), and others signing up for roles. And as some great marketing, mesmerizing trailers, and constant hints about the movie's tenuous connection to the Alien series continued, anticipation grew to an all-time high. And now, the weekend of the film's release, people are ready for legendary director Ridley Scott's long-awaited return to the genre that made him what he is: science fiction. And now, my verdict on Prometheus, shortly after this unrelated photo of a space jockey:

Time for me to ride my derelict all the way home.

Prometheus was never going to be a movie that truly fulfilled its audiences' hopes and dreams, as the hype train was going too fast, but still, the reactions to this movie have been damn polarizing so far. Some are labeling it as Scott's triumphant return to glory, and some are labeling it as his Phantom Menace, a movie that totally failed to live up to expectations. Some on the Internet have been critical of plot holes (there aren't any if you interpret the movie a little differently), flat characterization, a slow pace, and a shaky threadbare story. They have also called out the movie for asking big questions about life and humanity, and then just not bothering to answer them. And honestly, I just think they're overreacting to certain flaws, and then just are angry about ones that aren't there. However, what irks me the most is that people keep directly comparing it to Alien, as if the two are identically styled genre pics. Prometheus isn't remotely like Alien from a genre standpoint, as while Alien was basically a bigger-budget B-movie (admittedly, an unbelievably well-executed one), Prometheus is more like taking the tech of the Alien universe and transposing it onto 2001 or Blade Runner. Not that it is as good as either of those, mind you. Make no mistake, Prometheus has some pacing problems, its story is a tad thin, and only a few characters in the cast are really interesting. It is also most definitely the least of Scott's three sci-fi movies, lacking the straightforward horror narrative and drive of Alien and the incredible depth and thematic complexity of Blade Runner. However, I still think that it's at least the best space movie (sci-fi is such a broad term) since Duncan Jones' Moon, and is indeed a worthy and triumphant return to the genre for Scott, who, pushing 75 years of age, still has astounding filmmaking chops. His direction really is some great stuff, providing us with some of the best visuals ever seen on film. You'd think that with age, modern moviemaking tech would seem ALIEN to him (geddit??), but damn if the man hasn't missed a beat in his 35-year career in the business. I personally think that the visual effects displayed here trump those of even Avatar, as I feel that while it pulled out all the stops for its visual splendor, Prometheus does it effortlessly (and reportedly for $100 million less as well). Lindelof's script is easily the weakest aspect of the movie, as it fails to establish the more ancillary characters beyond a few broad strokes (Rafe Spall's Millburn is basically the plant version of Matt Hooper from Jaws, while Sean Harris' Fifield is the viewer identification character, who also serves as the guy that's only there to get paid. But hey, Kate Dickie as the ship's medic and and the two pilots get none at all). Really, the only characters who matter remotely are Rapace's Shaw, Fassbender's android David, Theron's Vickers, Elba's Janek, Pearce's Weyland, and Logan Marshall-Green's Holloway. But all of them get at least a little solid characterization, only bolstered by their superb acting. Noomi Rapace makes a solid Hollywood leading debut as Elizabeth Shaw, following in Sigourney Weaver's Ripley's footsteps quite admirably as a feminine warrior figure. Theron becomes basically a female, sexed up Burke from Aliens as Meredith Vickers, Elba's Janek is a lovably sardonic ship captain, and Marshall-Green's Holloway is a love interest with a target painted on his back (albeit one with a fairly developed personality). The real standout is Fassbender, who plays David with a perfect placid creepiness, combining aspects of Ian Holm and Lance Henriksen from the Alien movies with the replicants from Blade Runner. Marc Streitenfeld's score has also been cited as a flaw, with some calling it inappropriate or even embarassing. Once again, I disagree wholeheartedly, as while Streitenfeld's pastoral theme would be wrong for Alien, Prometheus is not a horror movie, and his score is both wondrous and tense when need be. Dariusz Wolski's cinematography makes for some beautiful imagery. And that's it for my review from a execution standpoint. I'm going to write a separate article to attempt to explain its connection to Alien. In short, Prometheus is a return to form for Scott after a string of mediocre flicks, and while it's flawed, I think it's one of the best of the year thus far. I like it the more I think about it, and I find that while it doesn't answer the big questions it poses, it instead leaves them open to interpretation. I feel that appreciation will increase in the years to come, and that one day, it will be remembered as a genre standout, if not a classic.

Prometheus gets a 9 out of 10.