Theatrical Reviews: Legion (Scott Stewart, 2010), Valentine's Day (Garry Marshall, 2010), and The Wolfman (Joe Johnston, 2010)

Legion (Scott Stewart, 2010):
Many viewers who witnessed the trailer for the film this past Summer and Fall in theaters were likely reminded of The Prophecy, fans of the Christopher Walken vehicle perhaps wondering if this peculiar flick might be worth a gander. I was one such individual, venturing to the theater upon release in order to satisfy my curiosity. What I walked out with, unfortunately, was a bit short of satisfaction. The premise, for starters, is a bit too generic. Apparently, God has lost his faith in mankind, so he has sent all of the angels down to earth in order to bring about the Apocalypse. One of his angels - Michael (Paul Bettany), however, does not agree with His order to exterminate humanity, so he descends to Earth in order to protect a pregnant woman who is on the brink of giving birth to humanity's only hope for survival.

This is where my qualms with the film begin. While character motivation is explained quite clearly, it is never really apparent why the birth of this one child holds any significance, or why giving birth will stop the angels who are trying to kill the child. If, per chance, the child is born, then why can the angels not simply kill it? How is this supposed to stop the Apocalypse? I may be being a bit too critical of this aspect of the film, as there is some slight form of explanation proffered that stems from the conflict between Michael and a fellow angel, Gabriel (Kevin Durand), which is told through flashbacks of the two conversing in heaven, but it was just not enough for me.

Not long after the film starts, the soon-to-be mother, Charlie (Adrianne Palicki), is holed up in a diner with her father (Dennis Quaid), best friend, Jeep (Lucas Black), a cook and a few customers. Naturally, they all sense that something is amiss when an innocent-enough elderly lady enters the diner and soon turns out to be a rather malevolent demon (or angel, I suppose). Michael shows up soon after the encounter, though, just in time to prep everyone for the onslaught of angels heading towards the diner. Eventually, Gabriel is sent to deal with Michael personally, since a virtually limitless number of angels is not enough to get past him and kill one human. This climax is where the film truly falls apart, resulting in a finale that, while commendable in its content, is atrocious in its execution - the same of which can be said for most of film as a whole. The only thing that really kept me entertained throughout the ordeal was Paul Bettany's performance as Michael - which was outstanding. Maybe if Christopher Walken had somehow reprized his role as Gabriel (not that Kevin Durand performed poorly - quite the opposite actually) and the character had been given more screen time, I might have left the theater satisfied. Sadly, such a luscious fantasy was not to be.


Valentine's Day (Garry Marshall, 2010):
I am not going to exhaust myself in this review by mentioning all of the character names or the actors/actresses that portrayed them. There are far too many, and the trailer makes sure to cue you in as to who they all are. In using the term "star vehicle," this film is a double-decker bus. Set on - you guessed it - Valentine's Day, the viewer follows a ridiculous number of individuals as they go about the holiday. You have one man who has just proposed to his girlfriend, who says yes but seems a bit hesitant; another couple that has been dating for two weeks seems to be connecting, though the female is obviously hiding something as evidenced by the obscene phone calls she keeps having; yet another couple is as happy as could be, probably because the female does not know that her lover is actually married; and finally there is a little boy who is on a mission to get flowers for the girl he loves. That is far from it, though. There are also several supporting characters: a pro football player trying to decide if he is going to retire, his agent who hates Valentine's Day and throws a party on the holiday in condemnation of it every year, a frustrated reporter who also loathes the holiday, a pair of strangers who meet on a flight and hit it off, and at least a half dozen others I am neglecting to mention.

Confused yet? Well it gets even better. All of these individuals are connected to one another in some manner. When the viewer picks up on this fact fairly early in the film, when the first few connections are made, it becomes a predictable mess that the word "cliche" cannot even begin to describe. There are a few surprises, however, that do manage to fall out of expectations, but only because they make absolutely no sense whatsoever (ie. characters whose actions are wholly unnatural). By the time the credits were rolling, I almost had tears in my eyes because I was so glad it was finally over. There is still some enjoyment to be had in movies that are predictable, but not this convoluted mess that takes unoriginality to such absurd extremities. I could go into truly exhausting detail of my extreme distaste with Valentine's Day, but to spare you (and me) of that option, suffice it to say I am baffled that such tripe ever gets green-lit. Coming from the man who gave us Pretty Woman and Overboard, this is truly appalling.


The Wolfman (Joe Johnston, 2010)
Ah, finally! A film that is not atrocious. I had been eagerly awaiting the release of this flick for quite some time, hoping to see a werewolf film that might just be on par with Silver Bullet. While my aspiration was not quite met - in fact I was rather disappointed - that does not necessarily mean that this was a bad movie. The production was top-notch, and the all-star cast performed exceptionally well for the most part (especially Anthony Hopkins and Hugo Weaving, the latter of whom stole the picture). The story is simple enough: set in Blackmoor, England during the late 19th century, stage performer Lawrence Talbot (Benicio Del Toro) returns home after his brother Ben is reported missing. Upon his arrival, his father John (Anthony Hopkins) informs him that Ben's mutilated body has been found. The viewer already knows that a werewolf was responsible since Ben's murder is shown in the opening scene, but Lawrence is not privy to such information so he promises his late brother's fiancee, Gwen Conliffe (Emily Blunt) that he will find out who killed Ben.

Shortly into his investigation, Lawrence encounters the beast that tore his brother apart and is bitten, which leads to his eventually becoming a werewolf himself. There is really nothing else to explain without spoiling the latter portion of the film. An inspector from Scotland Yard, Abberline (Hugo Weaving), suspects that the Talbots are hiding something, as does everyone else in town, but his and the townsfolk's efforts to whittle out the truth do little to prevent the eruption of violence that ensues during the full moon. The transformation Lawrence undergoes is a sight to behold courtesy of modern CGI, though it is a mixed bag as some of the effects are quite bad, but the final result sports some truly impressive cosmetics.

What drags The Wolfman down, though, is its reliance on jump-scares. There is never any moment of real tension or horror; no suspense is ever really built. The only frights to be found come from split-second jolts highlighted by a hammering note of music and a quick flash - usually of violence and/or the werewolf. Moreover, the story seems to drag at times due to so-so exhibition that fails to really establish a sensible relationship between Lawrence and Gwen, making it hard to believe that they actually fall in love with one another. Still, there is a bit of fun to be had here. The performers are lively and pleasant to watch for the most part, and the package rounds out to an almost-solid B-movie. It is just a shame that more could not be done to elevate The Wolfman a bit higher, though I suppose the nature of the tale makes that a bit much to ask for.



In sum, to attribute a letter grade to each film:
Legion: C
Valentine's Day: D-
The Wolfman: B-

Park Chan-wook's Vengeance Trilogy: yet another update (and other news)

In all honesty, I came across a bit of news a few weeks ago, but in the time since my review of The Limits of Control, I have been incredibly busy with classes/exams, work, and going home to see family. And last week saw the release of BioShock 2, a game I have been anticipating for quite some time. Thus, what little free time I could muster specifically during the past week was devoted predominately to playing it.

Anyways, the news concerns the release of Park Chan-wook's Vengeance Trilogy. Apparently Best Buy has secured exclusive rights to the March 16th release, which will be coming in the form of a collector's tin (likely the same kind used for the collector's edition of Oldboy or the series Band of Brothers). Furthermore, as the link in the title mentions, the set will be on blu-ray. I think this is actually going to be a DVD/Blu-ray combo set, but I am not quite sure. In any case, the boxed set will be released in other stores on June 15th in standard packaging. Being both impatient and a collector, I will be acquiring the Best Buy limited edition and drafting a review as soon as possible upon its release.

In other news, I finished reading Roberto Saviano's Gomorrah and have had a chance to finally watch the film. I plan to watch the film a second time and explore the special features on the Criterion Collection release before I write my review. Before then, however, I will be writing brief theatrical reviews for Legion, The Wolfman, and Valentine's Day sometime within the next 48 hours.

Finally, I was browsing the upcoming releases for the month of March on Amazon.com the other night and noticed that John Woo's Red Cliff was among them - another film I have been anticipating for quite some time (since early 2008). Having actually devoted a great deal of time to studying the Three Kingdoms Era of Ancient China, I am a bit disheartened to hear that the film is not quite as historically accurate as one would hope, but then again most historical epics rarely are. The film's focus, as the title suggests, is on the Battle of Red Cliff (a.k.a. the Battle of Chi Bi).

It will be released March 23rd on DVD and Blu-Ray in two different versions: the 148-minute U.S. Theatrical cut and the 288-minute International (Original) cut. Naturally, I have my sights set on the latter.

Here is the U.S. trailer:

The Limits of Control (Jim Jarmusch, 2009)

 After several failed attempts to watch The Limits of Control, the latest from Jim Jarmusch, I was finally able to sit down at 1:30am a few nights ago and get through the film in its entirety. I now find myself troubled, as it begs for a repeat viewing - due primarily to its shear peculiarity. The plot is not hard to follow, as there really is not a whole lot to it. A great majority of the run-time is devoted to watching an unnamed protagonist (played marvelously by Isaach De Bankole) walking, riding in some form of transportation, or simply sitting and waiting - typically at a cafe and with two espressos in separate cups. This lone man is incredibly patient, always sharp, and rarely speaks at all. These would appear to be qualities that - when combined - strike the impression of a man who in absolute control.

Throughout his established day-to-day routine, this mysterious man encounters several unique but equally stupefying characters that seem to require special attention - a task that is not too arduous considering just how slowly the film toddles along. While it is not quite clear until near the end exactly what this lone man is on a mission to do, it is fairly easily inferred that he is an assassin en route to a target. What is not so readily understandable is why this man must go through such a ridiculously complex series of exchanges with so many peculiar individuals before finally reaching his ultimate destination.

I suppose that within these encounters lies the profound idea that Jarmusch constantly reaffirms throughout the entire film: everything is subjective; reality is arbitrary. The viewer can interpret these meetings and their significance in whatever way he/she chooses. In all truthfulness, the convoluted journey this man embarks upon in order to complete one (arguably) simple, brutal task is so extraordinary that it is plausible that the various figures he encounters are not real at all. Much of the narrative information is left entirely to the perspective of the individual viewer, including whether or not it occurs in reality and its significance.

The finale of the film puts this ideology to masterful use as the lone man stands before a heavily-guarded compound. Breaking with viewer expectations, Jarmusch does not show how the man manages to infiltrate the building. Instead, a simple cut is all that it takes for him to be sitting on a couch inside, waiting with inhuman patience. Shortly thereafter, a man - his target - enters the room and, after noticing the lone man's presence, asks: "How the fuck did you get in here?" The reply is quick, cool, and precise: "I used my imagination." Given the nature of the film itself, the viewer is inclined to accept this as the literal truth.

Whatever the case may be, it does not particularly matter. The only motivation behind the assassin's slaying of his target stems from what he is told in the beginning of the film before tackling his mission: "He who thinks he is bigger than the rest must go to the cemetery." There is no clear reason for murdering this man, nor is there any indication that it will make any difference in the world. Just like everything else in the film, these aspects are entirely subjective. You - the viewer - must decide.

It should be said that The Limits of Control is not a film that will appeal to everyone. It is slow, cryptic, and asks for a great deal of participation on the part of the viewer in order to be appreciated. At the same time, there is no grand message waiting to be extracted from the entire ordeal. Any and all meaning that the film has rests entirely with the viewer. Certainly this is a tricky concoction for a director to toy with, but I believe Jarmusch does it rather well. Regardless of what feelings one has by the time the credits roll, I do not believe it can denied that - as a spectator - being the one calling all the shots is both original and interesting. Like the lone man, the viewer maintains a control that knows no limits.