ALIEN 3 (1992) review
(In anticipation of David Fincher’s latest film, “Gone Girl”, Brendan Hodges is going through the director’s filmography….)
written by: David Giler, Walter Hill and Larry Ferguson (screenplay) & Vincent Ward (story)
produced by: Gordon Carroll, David Giler and Walter Hill
directed by: David Fincher
rating: R (for monster violence and for language)
runtime: 114 min.
U.S release date: May 22, 1992
How do you follow two game-changing science fiction masterpieces that changed cinema forever? Well, as history tells it, with crushing disappointment. “Alien 3” stands as one of the biggest let downs in film history. Modern audiences can sympathize with the feeling. Four years after “The Matrix”, the world led out a whimpering sigh leaving theaters after seeing both of the sequels. And, although “Alien 3” wasn’t nearly on that level (what is?), “Star Wars: Episode I” inevitably comes to mind. Even director David Fincher was appalled at the final product, famously confessing “No one hated it more than me; to this day, no one hates it more than me.” His first film was drowning in production problems, where there wasn’t a final script when shooting started, and he was fired multiple times. It’s a classic example of studio meddling, and it’s hard to think “Alien 3” even qualifies as the real start of Fincher’s imposing career.
Six years after “Aliens”, “Alien 3” stormed into theaters with a weird plot involving a sci fi prison, inmates with bar codes on the back of their heads, and most important of all, religion. That is to say, even if it was good, “Alien 3” marks a major change in the franchise destined to ruffle people’s feathers. We meet Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) seemingly moments after the ending of “Aliens”, crash landing on an escape pod on prison and refinery planet. She survives, but barely. In a dose of Shakespearian irony, we know the crash was caused by a facehugger monster, but she doesn’t. In an infuriating creative decision, the entire remaining cast of “Aliens”, many of whom were fan favorites and had formed an emotional bond with audiences, were killed off in the crash. Ripley is rescued and taken to the prison, told to avoid inmates and await rescue. All the while, tensions between the inmates rise while we wait for an alien Xenomorph to appear. When it does, hell is broken loose.
Fincher has disowned the film, but his horrible experience behind the camera aside, he shouldn’t have “Alien 3” actually is a semi-decent movie, or rather, is the shadow of a great one. It’s as though a compelling, unique, and visually arresting work was summarized in a drunken haze, and that became the template for “Alien 3”. Nevertheless, every frame is lush with powerful visual ideas, and now act as an amusing prophecy of a cinematic genius yet to find his way. You can already feel his incredible specificity with the image, and the effect can be tantalizing. From the very start his singular voice as an artist is clear. He starts the film with a terrifying credits sequence that induces more genuine fear and shock than the rest of the entire movie.
The eerie “Alien” theme plays over a stereotypical sci-fi star field, with the credits in massive letters hovering center frame. In an audacious move, instead of making the escape pod crash the opening scene, it’s been interwoven into the opening credits in the form of quick-cut jolts. We see clues of the crash, like the facehugger unfurling its boney fingers over the camera lens. Because no single shot of the crash lasts too long, it imposes upon the audience the need to use their imagination. It’s a masterwork of visual storytelling that alone justifies watching.
THE DISAPPEARANCE OF ELEANOR RIGBY (2014) review
written by: Ned Benson
produced by: Cassandra Kulukundis, Ned Benson, Jessica Chastain, Todd J. Labrowski & Emanuel Michael
directed by: Ned Benson
rating: R (for language and brief drug use)
runtime: 106 min.
U.S release date: September 12, 2014 (limited)
The release of Ned Benson’s “The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby” has been a mess. Like “Nymphomaniac” earlier this year, the version the director wanted to release in theaters has been mutilated and reshaped for the purpose of accessibility. The studio scalpel was, ironically, far more mild with the ultra-graphic-sex-fueled opus “Nymphomaniac”, which was merely divided into two parts with some scenes (and graphic instances of sex) lost along the way. “Eleanor Rigby”, in contrast, emerged from the surgeon’s table almost unrecognizable. Originally premiering at the Toronto Film Festival with two distinct versions, “Her” and “Him”, it showed the dramatic breakdown of a wistful relationship through two focused narratives. One, obviously, focused on the guy, and the other on the girl. But for the film’s wide release, the Weinstein Company combined the two: “Them”. “Them” is overworked and stilted, stuttering between scenes that were never meant to connect. I wish all of the blame could be pointed at Harvey Weinstein on making a single cut, but Benson’s new blooded movie-making is the worst blunder of all.
“Them” begins with a moment of idyllic love. Connor (James McAvoy), handsome and spirited, asks Eleanor (Jessica Chastain) if she would still love him even if he couldn’t cover the check of their romantic dinner. She laughs softly and details the steps of a backwards heist. They need to flee the restaurant without getting caught. The sequence explodes with laughter and whimsy, with Eleanor ending up legs parted on top of Connor making deep eye contact. This, the film suggests, is happiness. Ned Benson wrote his movie’s opening to make a starry-eyed proclamation of what love is. They put love for each other before status and even before society. It is only for, if you’ll excuse the pun, themselves.
THE DROP (2014) review
written by: Dennis Lehane
produced by: Peter Chernin, Dylan Clark & Mike Larocca
directed by: Michaël R. Roskam
rating: R (for some strong violence and pervasive language)
runtime: 106 min.
U.S release date: September 12, 2014
In recent article in the New York Times, film critic A.O. Scott wrangles with a weighty topic that’s caused a lot of buzz online. The piece is titled, “The Death of Adulthood in American Culture.” Scott uses, amongst other examples, hit shows “The Sopranos” and its thematic descendent “Mad Men” to help frame his mournful thesis. Both shows are a dissection of patriarchy, combating the classic idea of masculinity with the post-modern reality. The results, more often than not, show a protagonist (Tony Soprano, Don Draper, and even Walter White) confronting everyday troubles with equal parts immaturity and entitlement. The provocative article was very much on my mind while watching Michaël R. Roskam’s latest film, “The Drop”, and not just because it’s “Sopranos” star James Gandolfini’s final film role
We see the same plots and characters from superior crime stories impiously recycled, and even if they’re enough to excite and shock, they aren’t the point. “The Drop” is a pertinent allegory for the male ego, whether that’s “feeling like a som-bahdy” or having a flexible moral code you insist is absolute.
This is the first screenplay by famous author Dennis Lehane, who wrote the books that spawned excellent adaptations “Shutter Island“, “Gone Baby Gone” and “Mystic River”. “The Drop”, based on Lehane’s book of the same name, shows an interesting trend in 2014 for authors to adapt their own books (Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl is another example). Instead of focusing on the ritz-glitz, high-end crime seen in “Goodfellas” or “The Sopranos”, “The Drop” is ardently blue-collar. The main character, Bob (Tom Hardy), isn’t a slick, badass, rough-em-up type with a leather jacket and a crowbar in the trunk; he’s a bartender. Soft spoken, gentle, church-going, and introspective, his immediate concern isn’t collecting from schmucks who haven’t paid up but knowing the best kind of whiskey. He works at a bar run by his cousin Marv (James Gandolfini), and it’s a drop point for laundering money for the Chechen mob.
THE EQUALIZER (2014) review
written by: Richard Wenk
produced by: Todd Black, Jason Blumenthal, Denzel Washington, Alex Siskin, Steve Tisch, Mace Neufeld, Tony Eldridge & Michael Sloan
directed by: Antoine Fuqua
rated: R (for strong bloody violence and language throughout, including some sexual references)
runtime: 132 min.
U.S. release date: September 26, 2014
“Training Day” was the last movie Denzel Washington made with director Antoine Fuqua, earning him a second Oscar, this time for Best Actor (his first was a Best Supporting Actor win for “Glory”), so it makes sense that the movie star would re-team with Fuqua again. Their goal is to kick off a franchise for Washington by making a loose movie adaptation of “The Equalizer”, the CBS TV series that ran from 1985-1989, starring the late English actor, Edward Woodward as a gentleman with a “certain set of skills” that he is willing to offer to those in need usually free of charge to atone for things he’s done in the past that he’s not proud of. It sounds like a perfect fit for the actor and director and, for the most part, the pulpy thriller certainly is, but its reliance on bloody violence and unnecessary gore is off-putting and lazily stereotypical, not to mention the ridiculousness that permeates throughout the storyline. Read more…
TAKE ME TO THE RIVER (2014) review
written by: Rick Clark, Jerry Harrison, Julie Janata, Martin Shore & Zac Stanford
produced by: Marin Shore, Cody Dickinson, Brett Leonard, John Beug, Lawrence Mitchell & Dan Sameha
directed by: Martin Shore
rating: unrated
runtime: 95 min.
U.S. release date: September 12, 2014 & September 26, 2014 (limited)
There’s been a handful of recent music documentaries focusing on a variety of subjects: bands most people have never heard of (“A Band Called Death”), nostalgic music recorded in a particular studio (“Sound City”) and geographic locations known for producing some amazing music (“Muscle Shoals”). Those movies satisfied in-the-know fans by delivering respectful, introspective and entertaining films and 2.) introducing those unfamiliar viewers to great American music. Any musician from those documentaries will admit that the music from the Mississippi Delta, be it blues, soul or country, has been highly influential to musicians and performers of all ages for decades. “Take Me to the River” celebrates the music of that area as well as the rich history of music from Memphis, featuring legends pairing up with some young(er) blood.
TUSK (2014) review
written by: Kevin Smith
produced by: William D. Johnson, Sam Englehardt, Shannon McIntosh & David Greathouse
directed by: Kevin Smith
rating: R (for some disturbing violence/gore, language and sexual content)
runtime: 102 min.
U.S. release date: September 19, 2014 (limited)
I didn’t stay for the end credits like I usually do, Kevin Smith’s latest film, “Tusk”. If I had I would’ve seen a clip of the writer/director explaining how the idea of a man transformed into a walrus by his kidnapper derived from an episode of his SModcast in which he and his co-host Scott Mosier discussed a classified ad that offered a free living situation to a lodger on the condition that he/she dress up in a walrus suit. Smith left it up to his Twitter followers to determine whether or not this ad was a set-up worthy of a movie adaptation. I wish they had said it wasn’t worthy, but Smith’s loyal followers are many. I also wish a good friend of Smith’s would’ve smacked him upside the head with a dose of reality, since this is not a good idea for a movie, which is one of the reasons why I bolted out of the theater as soon as it was over.
THE ZERO THEOREM (2014) review
written by: Pat Rushin
produced by: Nicolas Chartier and Dean Zanuck
directed by: Terry Gilliam
rating: R (for language and some sexuality/nudity)
runtime: 106 min.
U.S. release date: August 19, 2014 (VOD, iTunes & Amazon) and September 19, 2014 (limited)
With “The Zero Theorem”, his first film since 2009’s “The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus”, Terry Gilliam returns to an iteration of the near-future world he’s known for, in films like “Brazil” and “12 Monkeys”. In fact, the director’s latest offering is said to be a conclusion of sorts to his dystopian trilogy, filled with the same anxious and paranoid tone where a protagonist struggles in a structured environment dominated by either a authoritarian society or domineering corporate entity. While it’s a welcome return for fans of Gilliam’s perspective in this sci-fi subgenre, I had a slight feeling of trepidation going into “The Zero Theorum”, wondering if the visually enticing director is regurgitating previous themes and ideas.
THE FAULT IN OUR STARS (2014) review
written by: Scott Neustadter and Michael H. Weber
produced by: Wyck H. Godfrey and Marty Bowen
directed by: John Boone
rating: PG-13 (for thematic elements, some sexuality and brief strong language)
runtime: 126 min.
U.S. release date: June 6, 2014
DVD/Blu-ray release date: September 16, 2014
More than its attempts to stir reflection on what it means to live and what it means to die, “The Fault In Our Stars” left me contemplating film criticism. Like most critics I suspect, I have a process. While I watch, observations collect in one mental pile, possible phrases in another, and eventually, the back of my mind has a checklist of successes and failures. It almost becomes like math: subtract what didn’t work from what did, and if the film’s still in good shape by the end I’ll stamp it with a good letter grade at the bottom of the review. But this is a curious circumstance, since, no matter how many flaws I could detect, and it quickly becomes apparent there is a bounty of them, there was little doubt I felt exactly what the film wanted me to at any given moment. Despite my best intentions to sit impervious to its not so invisible tricks, “The Fault In Our Stars” won. I choked up. More than once.
And if I’m being really honest, the number is above the number of fingers I have on one hand. What director Josh Boone made wasn’t a film; it’s a finely tuned manipulative machine, primed with ruthless efficiency to elicit powerful response of leaking emotion.
This is the latest of 2014’s young adult adaptations, and the second built as a starring vehicle for the beautiful star of ABC Family’s “The Secret Life of an American Teenager”, Shailene Woodley. Adapted from a book of the same name from acclaimed and impressively internet friendly author John Green, “The Fault In Our Stars” falls in the well-explored genre of “sick-lit”, where characters confront real life tragedy instead of, as The Gaurdian puts it, “dragons, wizards, and vampire romances.”
Woodley plays a sixteen year old girl named Hazel Grace Lancaster, who at an early age was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. It spread to her lungs, and to breathe she’s forced her to carry around a portable oxygen tank like a ball and chain. Although she has warm support by her parents (played by “True Blood” star Sam Trammell and Laura Dern), her life is fairly contained. Solitary. At the request of her persistently caring mother, the kind we would be lucky to have, she puts an end to her seclusion and joins a support group. It’s there the romance we were promised in the trailers sparks, where she bumps into a boy named Augustus Waters (Ansel Elgort) and the second their eyes meet they’re on a predictable path of love.
ONLY LOVERS LEFT ALIVE (2014) review
written by: Jim Jarmusch
produced by: Jeremy Thomas and Reinhard Brundig
directed by: Jim Jarmusch
rating: R (for language and brief nudity)
runtime: 123 min.
U.S. release date: April 11, 2014
DVD/Blu-ray release date: September 9, 2014
The streets are empty. A threatening haze descends over a once great city now abandoned. Buildings are in a state of disrepair and disarray, and almost no one is to be seen. You’ve moved off the grid in self-imposed seclusion. It was to stay safe, and you don’t want to be found. Your house has its own power source using technology well beyond the capabilities of today. It is virtually impossible to trace you, and yet, undesirable figures knock at your door. You call them zombies. These are the symptoms of the post-apocalyptic narrative, only, there was no big meteor. There wasn’t zombie outbreak and North Korea didn’t launch nuclear missiles. There was a catastrophe, but it wasn’t an alien attack.
This ghoulish and largely vacant city isn’t from Mad Max, but is actually a contemporary American city. It’s Detroit, as it stands right this second. Jim Jarmusch’s latest film, “Only Lovers are Left Alive” uses the United States economic crisis as a platform for a post-apocalyptic landscape, combining political commentary with the fixings of genre. This is how Jarmusch made most of the film: he genre mashes to find flavors yet unfound by other artists. Largely, his experiments are a success.
Jarmusch’s latest film explores genre, love, and decline, and he does it through elegant symbol and potent metaphor. The example in the opening paragraph is one of the film’s most creative. It’s also a film about claustrophobic rooms and the cheerless pessimists that live inside them. The extraordinary style weeps mood and melancholy, but also sex. The camera is tight, and the story is focused.
For most of the film, we sit with only two characters, and they don’t talk much. Their names are Adam and Eve, and it isn’t long before we realize they aren’t human. They’re vampires. And they’re in love. “Avengers” star Tom Hiddleston plays Adam, a recluse rock star, who’s always in tight black jeans and a black shirt. His jet black hair is long, messy, and covers half his face. He sulks and makes rock music that he won’t let anyone hear. If a figure could be sexier than Tom Hiddleston as a morose rock star, it’s Tilda Swinton playing his wife. She radiates every film frame that includes her. They are transient entities — phantoms — coasting through life untethered from everything but each other. The story — if it can indeed be called a story — begins with Adam and Eve on opposite ends of the globe, and they slowly reunite.
Like Jarmusch’s other films, notably “Broken Flowers” and “Dead Man”, there’s a barebones narrative. Characters spend most of the running time wandering aimlessly from room to room and place to place, and what little comes to pass is incidental to both Adam and Eve. Similar to Bill Murray’s performance as Don Johnston in “Broken Flowers”, both Hiddleston and Swinton under-emote, and, also like Murray’s performance, sometimes to hilarious results.
Jarmusch has been called a more extreme Wes Anderson, which is to say they have a similar penchant for deadpan humor intermixed with points of genuine sadness. The same tonal map is used by both filmmakers, but Jarmusch extends the boundaries of that map to greater extremes. Compared to Anderson’s films, humor is more deadpan, and moments of sadness are less dramatic. This style is a playhouse for skilled actors (and thus the spectrum of talent both filmmakers freely have access to), with them able to perform in ways unusual to both them and viewers. As a result, the cast give excellent performances of striking sensitivity, and the film is worth it for them alone.
THE LAST OF ROBIN HOOD (2013) review
written by: Richard Glatzer and Wash Westmoreland
produced by: Christine Vachon, Declan Baldwin and Pamela Koffler
directed by: Richard Glatzer and Wash Westmoreland
rating: R (for some sexuality and language)
runtime: 88 min.
U.S. release date September 06, 2013 (TIFF), August 29, 2014 and September 05, 2014 (limited)
There’s no trace of Robin of Locksley in “The Last of Robin Hood”. It’s a title merely to get your attention. If you want to see Robin Hood in his twilight years, you’d do best to check out Sean Connery in 1976’s “Robin and Marion”. This somewhat boring melodrama focuses on the last couple of years in the life of actor Errol Flynn, the controversial lothario who, in his late forties took on a 15 year-old girl as his paramour. If that sounds kind of skeevy, well it is, and as much as writer/directors Richard Glatzer and Wash Westmoreland try to romanticize the relationship, the aura of uneasiness permeates the entire picture.
