Dawn of the Planet of the Apes - Movie Review by Michael Clawson

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes  

Starring Andy Serkis, Jason Clarke, Gary Oldman and Keri Russell

Directed by Matt Reeves

From 20th Century Fox

Rated PG-13

130 minutes

Serkis captivates in Apes sequel

by Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

The apes are back, and once again they aren’t so damned and aren’t so dirty.

In fact, the apes are looking pretty snazzy in Matt Reeves’ Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, with their matchy warpaint high in their evergreen fortress in the rugged forests north of San Francisco. This is where we saw them victoriously scamper to at the end of Rise of the Planet of the Apes, the movie that featured the preacher from Footloose, Draco Malfoy and a James Dean puppet called James Franco, yet all anyone could talk about was motion-capture master Andy Serkis and his riveting unseen performance.

Serkis, who had previously played Gollum in the Lord of the Rings movies, returns here doing more motion capture — he gets to wear pajamas to work! — for Caesar, the ape leader who has fled humanity’s rotten grasp to start his own primate civilization in the Sierras. And like his previous endeavor dragging his knuckles, Serkis again steals the show with a nuanced and rare performance that is only seen through the digital surrogate of Caesar, ape emperor. But more on that later.

Dawn wastes no time and begins with immediate exposition: the opening credits reveal that a mutated Alzheimer’s bug is sweeping around the planet in a deadly wave. In a nifty little animation, the infection is shown as a bright orange rash popping up over a spinning globe. And then the orange starts to fade — not because the virus has died off, but because the virus has no one left to kill. Some humans are naturally immune, and they hunker down in the post-apocalypse cities of America. In San Francisco, a decade after the pandemic started, we meet Malcolm (Jason Clarke) and Dreyfuss (Gary Oldman), two sound leaders trying to figure out if a nearby dam might provide their struggling refuge with some power.

And wouldn’t you know it, the dam is in monkey country, where Caesar — a horse-riding, english-speaking, elk-spearing primate that puts those bike-riding bears at Barnum & Baileys to shame — has staked out his own kingdom within the trees and mist. After the humans cross into their borders, Caesar confers with his orangutan elders and his warrior chimps before deciding on a course of action. The decision he makes surprises me: backed by his furry army, he marches to the gates of the human city to announce to a stunned population that they have a “human home” and Caesar and his friends have an “Ape home” and never the two shall meet.

It was pretty much at this point I decided I liked this movie. A lesser film would have had a big action sequence here followed by three identical, yet slightly different, action scenes and then the credits. But Dawn of the Planet of the Apes is less interested in war and gunfights than it is with the examination of two competing societies — one on an upswing, the other crumbling away — as they struggle for meaning in a post-apocalyptic world.

These types of movies are usually filled with obnoxious archetypes, the kind of characters that Walking Dead fills its roster with to move the plots forward in lumbering incoherence. But that’s not the case here. Aside from one meathead (Kirk Acevedo, who’s actually been on Walking Dead), Dawn is filled with smart and understanding human characters. They do things that real humans might actually do. They think. They reason. They encourage each other. They smile. Even Oldman, who turns into a minor villain, is given so much common sense that it defies the genre, which so frequently clings to murderous nutjobs. Clarke’s Malcolm has several important scenes that require him to trust his ape neighbors, including a sequence where he walks into Caesar’s village to petition that they all work together. His wife shares her medicines with the sick apes. And his son swaps comics with a lovable orangutang who has a thirst for reading and knowledge. These are decent people, and likable, too.

The human characters are mirrored in many ways within the ape society. Caesar plays Malcolm’s counterpart; he’s curious and willing to hear out his human visitors. Like Malcolm, Caesar has a son and a wife, and several close advisors, including apes called Ash and Rocket, and rampaging human-hater Koba, who was used as a test subject by humans before the fall. Caesar orders Koba to work peacefully with the humans and Koba points at his scars, “human work,” he says in slow English. Maybelline did a number on this guy, and his actions are hot-headed and cruel, but not without merit.

Of course, the established truce falls apart in a spectacular fashion as the movie requires it, but that doesn’t take away the goodwill that was established earlier in the picture. Caesar believes in the humans, and some of the humans believe in Caesar, and that sets the stage for an epic standoff that is less about man versus ape, and mostly about competing ideologies, specifically peace versus war.

This is a competent and lyrically written action bonanza. It works on paper without a single special effect, yet the special effects make it something exceptional, especially Serkis and the other motion capture actors. The apes have weight, character, presence and momentum. It’s obvious these aren’t just computer models; they have a heavy physicality to their movement. Talk is being thrown around that Serkis should get an Academy Award nomination for a role he’s never seen in. I don’t think we’re there yet, but we’re definitely closer. And the fact that we’re even debating that is a huge testament to the work Serkis has thrown himself into.

Aside from the motion capture, though, Dawn also deserve accolades for its gorgeous set design — from the rusty and overgrown city to the splintery wood deathtrap of the forests — and also its steady cinematography. Reeves did us no favors when he created super-shakycam with Cloverfield, but here he and cinematographer Michael Seresin slow their shots down, and atone for their movie sins, with careful careful camera placement and inventive composition of apes swinging through the trees or a single shot of a rotating tank turret. There are several long-takes, including one with Clark storming through his compound looking for an escape from the invading apes. It’s no Children of Men, but the attention to the nuts and bolts of filmmaking is profoundly evident on the screen.

I must circle back to Serkis before closing out my review. I think he’s figured out how to fix lifeless CGI — a human must inhabit the special effect. It won’t fix a movie’s CGI, but it puts it on the right path to create something memorable. Something like Dawn of the Planet of the Apes.

Begin Again - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Begin Again  

Starring Keira Knightley, Mark Ruffalo, Hailee Steinfeld, Adam Levine, James Corden, CeeLo Green, and Catherine Keener

Directed by John Carney

Rated R

Run Time: 104 minutes

Genre: Comedy/Drama

Opens July 2nd

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Begin Again celebrates music unlike any modern film I’ve seen, insisting that it has the ability to move people more so than any other craft. How ironic then that it’s presented as a film. The film’s original title, Can a Song Save Your Life?, captures the essence of the story more directly, but both titles have similarly affecting meanings. They both refer to the film’s central character, Dan (Mark Ruffalo), a disgraced music-business executive that created his own record label back in the day with popular artists under his wing. But the music industry is changing and his way of doing things was pushed to the side. That might be because of the work itself, yet it seems to lie more within his raging alcoholism and familial issues. His daughter, Violet (Hailee Steinfeld), dresses like she needs a father to tell her what’s not acceptable while his ex-wife, Miriam (Catherine Keener), raises her alone. Dan’s life is in ruins and he’s prepared to find a way to make that end.

Then he finds Greta (Keira Knightley), a nervous musician on stage at a bar after being pushed by her friends to show her talents. Greta plays a quiet song with a guitar that doesn’t excite the crowd, but Dan sees an arrangement happening and the potential bursting within the music. The film sets up this piece of the narrative over a 20-minute span, using these three minutes as a way to introduce the characters and how they were both pushed to this moment. It’s a smart storytelling tactic by writer-director John Carney, allowing the scene a wider perspective to demonstrate the utter despair both of these people feel in their lives. Greta’s similarly down on her luck, having come to New York with her boyfriend, Dave (Adam Levine), who launches a singing career and begins to reach stardom. They used to sing together, recording videos of duets and working in tandem for writing. Now, he’s beginning to sell out and craft songs that push aside all they’ve done. After he cheats on her, she feels lost and prepared to head home to the UK. Then she runs into Dave.

He hatches the idea that they should record an album outdoors during the summer in New York City. It’s a concept album at its most extreme, capturing the turmoil of the city while simultaneously using natural sound stages to let the music work for itself. Carney’s film develops as a simplistic one by nature, yet it defines itself by the eccentricities of the characters and their interactions with music. Take, for instance, a moment when Greta prepares to leave a clichéd post-breakup message on Dave’s phone while drunk. Where the scene could’ve had her character emotionally fall apart, she stands strong and comes up with a genius idea: to write a revenge song and leave that as the recording. The scene captures that song in full and lets the audience marvel at the strength of the character and her best friend always by her side, Steve (James Corden). There’s another scene where everyone is gathered at a party and Steve says that no one can resist dancing to the song about to be played. Naturally, everyone freezes and fights the urge to dance. It’s one of the happiest progressions I’ve seen, speaking volumes about the infectious nature of music and the way it brings out the innate happiness in all of us.

The performances here are terrific. Ruffalo in the lead makes his character a likable drunk, one we despise for his weakness of character while also loving his ability to create music out of nothing. He’s a creative genius stuck in a rut that makes his personal life a nightmare. He brings humor and compassion to what could’ve been a one-note, fake man. Knightley is equally affecting. A scene near the end of the film shows her love for music overpowers her love for a man, demonstrating her strength as a musician. The film surprisingly avoids romance when it can; this isn’t a romantic comedy, nor is it a music tale mixed with romance like Once (a superior film). Instead, it’s a film that shows the love we all have for music, and the way that these people care about that work so much more than a romantic relationship. The supporting performances are strong, Carney’s direction is fluid despite clunky elements structurally, and the ending is moving and whole. Excluding the credits sequence that tacks on far too much for the story, Begin Again is a terrific look at the power of music.

Snowpiercer - Movie Review by Michael Clawson

Snowpiercer  

Starring Chris Evans, John Hurt, Tilda Swinton, Jamie Bell and Octavia Spencer

Directed by Joon-ho Bong

From The Weinstein Company

Rated R

126 minutes

All aboard! Snowpiercer victoriously steams through summer

by Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

Dust the peanut shells off your shirt, gather your stuff and start heading for the car: With outs still left to play, Joon-ho Bong’s succulent sci-fi masterpiece Snowpiercer just hit a walk-off home run to end the summer.

I’m not one to romanticize the summer’s popcorny action blockbusters. It’s a phenomenon that has grown to a worrisome size and brand of exclusivity — entrance is only granted by way of $200 million or more, and its only members are superheroes and transforming robots. But every now and again a movie like Snowpiercer comes along in the heat of the summer to obliterate our movie expectations.

This is a wholly unique and fascinating movie, one that further proves the most daring and groundbreaking movies have been from the science fiction genre, which is rich with ideas and spectacular invention. The movie takes place aboard a massive train that is plowing around the frozen globe, the result of a botched cloud-seeding experiment 17 years ago to reverse global warming. The outside world, extinct of all life, is wintery white and equally frigid, yet on the train there is heat, food, shelter and safety, but to varying degrees of concentration.

The humanity that survived the winter apocalypse have been assigned social classes aboard the train, which is so long that engine and caboose are presumably separated by area codes. Wealthy one-percenters ride near the front in lavish comfort, while the poor and undesirable ride in the rear, a gulag of cold steel and unbearable conditions. This is where we meet Curtis (Chris Evans), who has grown weary of the Marxist dystopia the rear of the train has provided him. It’s cramped, there are mandatory public countings, brutal beatings, children are kidnapped, and the food, protein bricks made of what looks like black cherry Jell-O, isn’t quite Soylent Green, but it’s close.

Curtis and the other supporters of wise village elder Gilliam (John Hurt) stage a massive revolt that requires them to time the opening and closing of train doors with the brute force of a hastily constructed battering ram made of metal drums. Once they’re through the first couple cars, they start picking up momentum as they race from their third-world prison up through the social classes.

The film has some marvelous performances, including a showstopper by Tilda Swinton as a kooky government leader, but let’s make no mistake about this: the star here is the train, which is so expertly designed and utilized within the plot that it’s a character unto itself. First, the look and feel of the train is just perfect. It’s wide enough to contain action and storytelling without feeling cramped, but tight enough to create a sense of claustrophobia when it’s needed. And at some point these train cars existed on a real set somewhere, because when the camera looks through open doors you can see distant cars undulating in the distant. It’s a hypnotic special effect. Bong also does a clever trick: he doesn’t show us any cars that Curtis hasn't yet visited. This allows us to explore the train as Curtis does, from the industrial refinery cars through to the greenhouse and aquarium cars and later in cars devoted to steam saunas and dance clubs. Watch how even the color temperature changes from the blues and greys of the rear of the train to the warm and organic browns and yellows of the paneled sleeping cars.

The train’s prominent role in the film also gives it some stand-out performances, including when two men have to wait for a sharp curve for the train to bend enough so they can see each other for a firefight. In another scene, a massive brawl is halted so the murderous combatants can count down to an eventual “Happy New Year!” They know it’s a new year because the train, which takes a full year to circumnavigate the globe, crosses a specific bridge. After some cheering and a little song they all return to killing.

Most importantly, though, the train has relevance within the plot. Bong and fellow screenwriter Kelly Masterson (Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead) have created a substantive mythology from the speeding locomotive’s existence. Curtis’ journey from one end to the other isn’t just a road movie, it’s metaphor, allegory, spiritual parable … it’s whatever you want it to be: young and old, life and death, rich and poor, head and tail. Interpretations of the train’s implications are going to be like the locomotive’s meandering journey around the world — all over the map.

This isn’t quite high art, though it’s awful close and it does have its fair share of brawls, shootouts, swordfights, riots, plenty of violence and scenes that reveal the true, and terrifying, nature of the train and its inhabitants. John Hurt’s character wears an umbrella handle where his hand once was; that makes for a doozer of a story late in the movie. There’s a sequence in a school car that is nuttier than it has any right to be, yet it also provides some important exposition about the train’s engine and the prophet-like man who supposedly keeps it running. In yet another scene, immediately after an action bonanza, the main characters stop at a sushi restaurant and have a bite to eat. The film has it’s own pace and tempo, but the movements work surprisingly well.

Go see this movie. You might have missed Transformers 4 last week; keep missing it and instead put your money into a movie that you haven’t yet seen, or will likely see again.

Snowpiercer - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Snowpiercer  

Starring Chris Evans, Kang-ho Song, Jamie Bell, Tilda Swinton, John Hurt, Alison Pill, Octavia Spencer, and Ed Harris

Directed by Bong Joon-ho

Rated R

Run Time: 126 minutes

Genre: Action/Sci-Fi

Opens July 2nd

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Snowpiercer is one of the best films of 2014, a kinetic, gripping piece of science fiction that’s always involving. Bong Joon-ho establishes himself as one of the brightest talents working behind the camera, a man with the ability to thrill behind character drama alongside violent action that holds meaning. It’s a rare, brilliant mix. The film centers on Earth in 2031, where a failed global warming experiment leads to the world freezing over and all life ceasing to exist. A lucky few boarded the Snowpiercer, a train that travels the world in the span of a year with a growing class divide amongst the citizens onboard. The back of the train is comprised of individuals without money, simply attempting to live in the horrid conditions provided to them. Most of them don’t remember what the outside world looks or feels like: there are no windows, most have been on the train for roughly 17 years (besides the babies born post-apocalypse), and they are fed protein blocks that look like gelatinous blobs of blood. Their lives are full of starvation, hard work, and fighting for survival.

Curtis (Chris Evans) is fed up. He wants to make it to the front of the train to reached the fabled Engine, which somehow keeps the train running at all times. It provides them with water converted from the ice outside and the essentials needed to keep the ecosystem running on board. Along with Edgar (Jamie Bell), a young man born on the train near its inception, and Gilliam (John Hurt), a wise old man without most of his limbs, they attempt to advance past the soldiers and to the front of the train. Others include Tanya (Octavia Spencer), a woman whose child is taken to the front for an unexplained purpose, and Nam (Kang-ho Song), a man addicted to a drug made of toxic waste called Kronol. It’s a highly flammable substance that Nam and his daughter, Yona (Ah-sung Ko), use as currency in exchange for helping the passengers advance through gates. The former developed them himself and the latter is psychic, having the ability to see through the gates to warn them of what’s to come.

There have been other revolts, all failures. The previous insurgents were killed by the guards, something that Mason (Tilda Swinton) often reminds the members of the tail section. She adores Wilford Industries and everything that it stands for, idolizing its creator who lives with the Engine. Wilford is a demigod to the people near the front of the train despite the ridicule and doubt he faced from outsiders for his invention; those people onboard are wealthy and reserved their spots to live just as they used to before the scientific experiment went wrong. Joon-ho instills plenty of commentary within that struggle to emphasize a class divide between rich and poor. It’s riveting. Curtis and Edgar talk about how they forget what steak even tastes like or what their mother’s faces look like. Imagine being denied the simple joys of life, and that is the way they live. While that conflict emerges, there is a fundamental attack on naysayers of climate change and the way that technological advances can backfire on us. The central premise isn’t overly far-fetched considering how far the world is going to combat global warming.

While that may make the film sound heavy, there’s one important element to consider: the film is a blast. The action is staged appropriately and masterfully keeps within the narrow confines of a train. Every room feels as if it’s crafted by a brilliant designer who just so happened to know how thrilling the rooms would be in a film. Snowpiercer kicks ass and uses its characters as vehicles for caring about the action. These are properly defined people who believably live inside this train. They are emotionally ravaged, mentally exhausted, and physically lean. And they are ready to fight for their lives. Evans is great in the lead, particularly in a late moment when he delivers a moving monologue about his first moments on the train. Swinton is impressively unique, too. The action is fast-paced and brutal, with the film remaining uncompromising in what it shows; blood and graphic violence ensue because it needs to in the context of the narrative. Snowpiercer is a unique breed of actioner: it’s a tiny blockbuster set entirely on a train, it’s ridiculously ambitious in narrative scope, and it has a story that makes the audience care. It’s great filmmaking.

Third Person - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Third Person  

Starring Liam Neeson, Olivia Wilde, Mila Kunis, Adrien Brody, James Franco, Maria Bello, Moran Atias, and Kim Basinger

Directed by Paul Haggis

Rated R

Run Time: 137 minutes

Genre: Drama/Romance

Opens July 2nd

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Third Person is like a broken wrist: it’s limp, disjointed, and bothers the viewer for every minute of its existence. Paul Haggis seems to be desperately reaching for the success he achieved with Crash, the 2006 Best Picture winner that stands as the highlight of his career. That Oscar vehicle worked on a tremendous level emotionally and brought together an impressively deep cast into a coherent, thematically sound narrative. His latest film, about a writer that’s struggling with his latest work, feels omniscient and self-aware like its title suggests, only it doesn’t recognize how incoherent it really is. The film’s protagonist, Michael (Liam Neeson), is stuck in a hotel in France writing his newest book while being haunted by a voice saying, “Watch me.” The first scene painfully screams details about his character: there’s a pill bottle on his desk!; there’s alcohol!; he takes off his glasses because he can’t concentrate! The camera cuts between each of these moments multiple times, emphasizing his supposed drug addiction while simultaneously repeating details that could have been explained in half the amount of time.

Anna (Olivia Wilde) arrives at his hotel room after being flown there at Michael’s whim. She wants him to read her short story, but before that happens they make love on the bed while she receives mysterious texts from a man named Daniel. Meanwhile, an American businessman named Scott (Adrien Brody) is in Italy to steal designs from fashion houses. He goes to a bar to grab a beer (something that he painfully cannot find and when he does, it’s warm, much to his chagrin) and meets Monika (Moran Atias), an attractive woman who leaves a bag with 5,000 Euros in the bar by mistake. Or was it? Scott tracks her down to give her back her bag, but she notices the money is missing; it’s for her daughter, she says, to get her back from wherever she is. It sounds like a kidnapping story, and Scott gets swept up in the beauty of the woman without realizing that he might be getting conned. The other story follows Julia (Mila Kunis), a woman that mistakingly left her child alone to almost suffocate in a dry cleaning bag, being forced to live a normal life while leaving the boy with his father, Rick (James Franco).

If these stories don’t sound connected, you’d be onto something. The link between the three stories is muddled and confusing until the third act twist, which seemingly explains everything that’s been discombobulated. Haggis’s film, however, reveals an embarrassingly lame explanation that neither thrills or challenges the viewer; instead, it insists that it’s logically sound and connected. What becomes so frustrating as a viewer is not that the link between these stories isn’t readily apparent, but that we have to stumble through such hackneyed, contrived dialogue and scenes in order to get there. If we’re supposed to buy that Michael is a talented writer, then why could we care less about his words and the impact they are supposed to have? As he writes, “White. The color of trust,” followed by other short, incomplete sentences, it isn’t thought-provoking. It’s a poor excuse for blatantly pointing out symbolism and giving the viewer very little to imagine themselves.

There aren’t strong performances in the film as much as there are strong actors attempting to perform melodramatic material. Third Person never earns the loud, bombastic scenes it repeatedly brings on the audience; it’s frustrating to see an actress as talented as Olivia WIlde subjected to such vulgar, schizophrenic traits as her character has. James Franco and Mila Kunis are asked to cry and yell a lot, never giving us subtlety when we need to ground these characters in some reality. Based on the structure of the film, though, that last element may be a bit excusable. And Neeson is a good actor when provided with dense work, but the story allows everyone else to experience what he should be, leaving his character tragically empty. That may be intentional, but as a hero it leaves the audience cold. Basinger and Bello pop up in small roles but only exist to spur on the thematic obviousness of the subplots. As writer and director here, Haggis never creates a sound narrative; instead, he provides the audience with an absurd, misguided ending that frustrates rather than compels. Third Person is an underwhelming failure.

Tammy - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Tammy  

Starring Melissa McCarthy, Susan Sarandon, Kathy Bates, Allison Janney, Dan Aykroyd, Mark Duplass, and Gary Cole

Directed by Ben Falcone

Rated R

Run Time: 96 minutes

Genre: Comedy

Opens July 2nd

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Tammy is an embarrassing misfire for Melissa McCarthy. She’s an actress that won the goodwill of many with her hilarious supporting performance in Bridesmaids, and followed suit with leading performances in Identity Thief and The Heat. She essentially works better alongside a group of strong comedic actors and within stories that don’t rely on her for narrative drive. But here, her husband Ben Falcone is writer, director, and co-star (albeit briefly) and shines a spotlight on a boring slob of a character about who I never really cared. There’s a genuine lack of comedy within a film that so desperately wants people to laugh; the jokes are dissonant and constantly fall flat. It feels like that type of comedic failure that comes along in every comedian’s career, yet it’s surprising how early McCarthy’s is coming. That’s primarily because her type of humor appealed more broadly over her previous efforts due to the people surrounding her, and now the work feels more forced and less amusing. The schtick has grown old.

The story centers on Tammy (Melissa McCarthy), a woman that has just about everything go wrong in her life. She loses her job at Topper Jack’s, a fast food joint that takes itself a bit too seriously, her husband cheats on her with the neighbor, and her car breaks down after hitting a deer while she rocked out to music. She heads a few houses down the street to her mother’s (Allison Janney) house, telling her that she’s going to skip town and start a new life. Her grandmother, Pearl (Susan Sarandon), decides to join her on that adventure, providing the car and money to get them along. Despite her mother’s objections, they head off and try to begin anew. Pearl is a hard-drinking, foul-mouthed woman that’s sexually promiscuous and adventurous. Tammy must deal with her shenanigans, which leads to a run-in with an older gentleman, Earl (Gary Cole), and his son, Bobby (Mark Duplass) at a dive bar. The older two have sex, the younger two bond, and they each cross paths while Tammy and grandma try to find their way.

The plot is flimsy like cardboard and dry like sandpaper. The story meanders and often follows whatever path Tammy takes, even if that fails to move the story forward or allow character progressions to happen naturally. The dialogue is repetitive and too straightforward, explaining every nuance of the story and allowing nothing to the imagination. It’s impressive how empty the experience becomes as it reaches its conclusion. Almost all of the supporting characters have no life, merely existing to push along Tammy and her development. What’s so dull about that element is the fact that Tammy is such an unrelatable character. She’s an energetic woman that certainly provides life to each scene, but McCarthy can’t redeem the contradictory nature of her person. Take, for instance, the fact that her husband has committed adultery and she says it’s a sin and can’t fathom that idea. But she had an ice cream man fondle her while also lusting after a new man, and that’s funny, so I guess it’s okay.

The film champions Tammy’s stupidity, mining it for laughs and deriving the heart of her character out of her lack of knowledge. Her insolence knows no bounds, spitting on fast food on her way out of her firing and calling people assholes when they don’t deserve it. That’s not a very likable character. She mistakes Cheetos for Lay’s, patterns for both pairs and galaxies (I know that makes no sense, but Tammy thinks it does), and doesn’t know who Mark Twain is. The character’s obliviousness to life around her is unnerving in how much joy the writing couple finds in it. The alcoholism at the heart of Pearl’s character is also offensively drawn, mined for laughs because drinking excessively and ruining your life is funny! When the story attempts to redeem the character, it never feels sincere. Neither does Kathy Bates’s lesbian character in the second half, who acts as a sage that delivers wisdom while also liking to blow stuff up. Tammy may be nonsensical and derivative, but it’s also unexpectedly something else: painfully unfunny.

Earth to Echo - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Earth to Echo  

Starring Teo Halm, Astro, Reese Hartwig, Ella Wahlestedt, and Jason Gray-Stanford

Directed by Dave Green

Rated PG

Run Time: 91 minutes

Genre: Adventure/Sci-Fi

Opens July 2nd

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Science fiction adventures rarely focus on characters as much as Earth to Echo. It's a surprisingly resonant feature that emphasizes the togetherness and foundation of friendship vital to overcoming adversities in childhood. At times, its ambition reaches the heights of iconic children's adventures like The Goonies and E.T.: The Extra Terrestrial (to which comparisons are almost necessary, since the film borrows heavily from those '80s classics in both structure and theme). Yet the film ultimately settles on a story that doesn't want to deliver a strong social message that its opening moments allude to, nor does it aim to make profound realizations about technology and extra-terrestrial life. Instead, it's a straightforward tale about loners growing up in the same neighborhood that face the end of their life as they know it: not the end of the world, but the end of their friendships.

The trio at the heart of the story spends every waking moment together: Alex (Teo Halm) is a foster child that feels isolated due to his parents having a new baby; Tuck (Astro) has an abrasive older brother that gets the family's attention while they focus on moving away; and Munch (Reese Hartwig) is the techie nerd that loves dearly but couldn't act normal if his life depended on it. They are all likable presences primarily because they are kind-hearted kids who focus on helping and supporting each other. One sweet moment has Munch saying that he can't lie to his mom because, after her divorce, she's had enough men lying to her. The boys soon find out, however, that the time spent in their neighborhood may be short-lived due to the construction of a highway over the area of land on which they live. These construction workers won't let them know why it's happening, just that it is and they need to move soon or else they'll be forcefully evicted.

Before their last night, they discover that people's cell phones are acting up and showing a digital map to some place in the desert. Their curiosity spikes. They decide to take a journey to discover what exactly this is, soon finding parts that help them put together a mechanical alien that they name Echo. This extra-terrestrial is hurt and needs help getting back to his ship. They discover that there are others out there looking for Echo and hoping to use him for scientific research to understand why these aliens are on Earth. If the premise sounds like science-fiction, it's surprisingly a character-driven effort that emphasizes melodrama over large visual effects. That may be a disappointment for some, but upon viewing it's a refreshingly balanced take on a topic that we've seen many other times, and in better films, I might add. But the characters make the film: Hartwig brings Munch a tenderness and compassionate insight that goes past the whacky sidekick persona usually employed in children's movies. And the decision to have the make-up of the group be a foster child, an African-American, and an overweight outcast shows the increasingly changing landscape of the American family.

Yet despite the film's ambitious first half set-up, the second half is marked by a lack of emotional and narrative drive. The story bogs itself down in plot points rather than actual stakes for the characters and their actions, leading to a distanced viewing that feels inconsequential. Science fiction can usually comment on society in some affecting way, which the first ten minutes promise remarkably: the inconsiderate destruction of human lives at the cost of a freeway is a stark realization of our times and the necessity to expand. But that promise falls away with disregard for that social insight in favor of Echo-driven storytelling. The film will certainly please kids and hit the right comedic notes for both the little ones and adults. Most importantly, despite its narrative and tonal flaws, Earth to Echo cares deeply about its characters and their friendship. However distant it may seem emotionally in its second half, there's a shred of compassionate storytelling that feels refreshing amidst much of the pessimism in mainstream film.

Deliver Us From Evil - Movie Review by Michael Clawson

Deliver Us From Evil  

Starring Eric Bana, Joel McHale, Edgar Ramirez and Olivia Munn.

Directed by Scott Derrickson

From Screen Gems and Jerry Bruckheimer Films

Rated R

118 minutes.

Deliver Us From Evil; Return to Sender

by Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

Deep into Deliver Us From Evil, two police detectives are searching an apartment complex for a demon-possessed Iraq War veteran. One of the men, an Australian with a bad Bronx accent, turns to the other man and tells him, “We should split up.”

Obviously no one here has actually seen a horror movie. And that’s the problem with any horror flick: the audience is always smarter than the characters. In Deliver Us From Evil’s case, the intelligence gap is especially noticeable considering these characters aren’t horny teens vacationing at an abandoned cabin in the woods, but veteran detectives who presumably graduated the police academy without shooting their hands off or wrapping their cruiser around a telephone pole in the parking lot.

The cops are Sarchie (Eric Bana), the “we should split up” genius, and Butler (Joel McHale), who’s backward hat bro-ness wouldn’t cut it in a Limp Bizkit video. They cruise the New York streets waiting for the ping of Sarchie’s detective radar, his internal WTF-locator. It starts pinging a lot around three combat veterans from Iraq who may have brought a dark curse back from the warzone. And “dark curse” isn’t a metaphor for PTSD; they actually bring a stupid superstitious demon back with them. The demon is activated when it sees a Latin curse written on pretty much any surface. As luck would have it, two of the soldiers started a painting company after their tours in Iraq, which means they can start painting the curse all around town, but mostly in dank basements, creaky-floored Brownstones and — oh, you know, wherevs — the freakin’ lion enclosure at the zoo.

Bana is a likeable enough guy. He has the face of an everyman, and the seriousness of someone who wouldn’t put up with the events of Deliver Us. But in walks Sarchie to every terrible horror cliche the movie can hit before some unseen buzzer goes off and points are tallied. Cats hiss and jump, lights flicker, flashlights go dead, bathtub water spins and churns, mirrored doors are closed, a piano is tickled in the dark … at one point a Jack in the Box turns up with terrifying motives. This is pretty much the most basic horror package. These gags are sold in bulk at Costco.

Nevertheless, the film unspools ever forward, the mismatched pairing of Seven and The Exorcist. Edgar Ramirez turns up as some kind of defrocked exorcist priest, who’s too handsome and cool for the priesthood, but there he is in a 30-minute exorcism listening to The Doors (it’s the demon’s favorite band) as some poor actor has to say vile things in a gurgly voice. And why do demons talk like the Cookie Monster? A demon with Sam Cooke’s voice could pretty much conquer the world, but apparently they haven’t figured that out yet. And speaking of demons, have you seen those hilarious Bob Larson videos? This movie should have hired those actors.

Deliver Us From Evil is written and directed by Scott Derrickson, who has a lot of experience with horror films, including Sinister, The Devil’s Knot and the The Exorcism of Emily Rose. His career makes a strong case for a theory I’ve long championed: every director should make one horror film, but no director should make two. Kubrick, Spielberg, Scorsese, Friedkin … they’ve all made contributions to the genre, and yet they’ve never repeated themselves simply because they only made one of them. Now here’s Derrickson, whose entire career has exploited the same jump scares that look pretty much identical from movie to movie. He’s not doing horror any favors by diluting its features.

But horror sells, they’re cheap to produce, and easy to make. And judging by the scripts, they’re green-lit with a shrug from a studio head — “eh, whatever.” By those standards, Deliver Us From Evil is exactly what you’d expect with a modern horror movie. And by that I mean it’s weak and irrelevant.

Interview with Earth to Echo star and director by Jeff Mitchell

Glendale native Reese Hartwig and director Dave Green reflect upon “Earth to Echo”.  

By Jeff Mitchell

“Earth to Echo” is a sci-fi adventure about three kids - Munch (Reese Hartwig), Tuck (Astro) and Alex (Teo Halm) - discovering an alien in the Nevada desert.  The Phoenix Film Society had a chance to talk to 15-year-old Glendale native Reese Hartwig and director Dave Green about extraterrestrial life, on-screen/off-screen friendships and much more!   “Earth to Echo” opens July 2.

PFS:  One of the film’s central themes is three best friends - Munch, Tuck and Alex - are forced to move apart.  How much of this intentional theme was written in the original script vs. your direction? 

DG: Screenwriter Henry Gayden worked the script after he and I talked out the broad story.  I’m definitely not the writer among the two of us, but I love contributing story ideas. Something I was really interested in was a creating a dramatically charged period of time for these kids where they were going through a transition in their lives.  I remember being in elementary school, having to transition to middle school and say goodbye to old friends.  I remember being in middle school, going to upper school and having to say goodbye to those friends.  The kids are in our movie are being forced apart for reasons out of their control.  Throughout the course of this adventure, they have to learn how to say goodbye to each other and reconcile as friends.  Echo is a great character, but this movie is very much - for me - a story about these kids who are learning to say goodbye to each other.   In the course of saying goodbye, they discover this new friend who is a conduit and helps them go through that process.

PFS:  Reese, you moved from Arizona to California when you were 8, so did any of your own personal story hit home when filming the movie?

RH:  Definitely.  When I was 8, I had all of my buddies here in Arizona.  I went to Highland Lakes in Glendale, so that’s where I made most of my friends.  It sucked (to leave my friends), but it’s alright because - just like the movie explains - distance is a state of mind.  I still keep in touch with them.   It’s funny, at that screening last weekend (June 7), my friends were all there.  So, it was cool to show them what I’ve been working on these past couple years.

PFS: Since you are from here, what are some of your favorite things to do in the Valley? 

RH:  We come here all the time, because my mom’s entire side of the family lives here, and we have three new baby cousins here in Sun City!  When I lived here, we would go to the hotel resorts and swim in the pools during every single one of my birthdays.  It’s Arizona, you have to have a really cool pool area, right?  The gnarliest swimming pools and slides definitely are my favorite things.

PFS:  Munch was very quick-witted, and you delivered your lines with terrific comedic timing.  Did you have a chance to ad lib?  

RH:  Henry is awesome.  He really hooked me up with Munch.  He gave me all the funniest lines.  The main thing about being a child actor is 90 percent of the roles you have to do, you just have to be a kid.  Honestly, the best way to act as a kid is to just be a kid.   Before each take, sometimes Henry and I (or sometimes my dad and I) would talk about something funny to throw in.  There was some improv, and Henry and Dave gave me the power to make it fun, but Henry really hooked me up with Munch.  As an actor, he’s the perfect character I’d like to play.

PFS: “Earth for Echo” did a nice job of blending modern-day communication - such as texting, skyping and presenting youtube videos - into the beginning of the film, but then later, focused on more traditional communication between the lead actors.   Was that a conscious decision?  

DG: Very early on, Henry said, “You know it would be cool if these kids’ cell phones were taken over (by alien technology).”

The idea of the kids on a scavenger hunt from A to B to C with abducted cell phones was an early idea.  Our creature (Echo) crash landed.  He cannot really see through his own eyes, because they are cracked or broken.  Now, as an electronic being, he can, however, hack into these different devices and manipulate the tech around him.  That idea was there from the beginning.  Some of the other tech you see, like youtube, skype and text messages, were not part of the original pass we did on the movie. Some of that came through in post (production).  They served as transitions or as a way for the kids to talk to each other, but I’m so glad it came through.  For us, it was a really big part of what made the movie feel current and honest. (We wanted to present) the way kids actually talk, communicate and live in the world today.

PFS:  Do you think extraterrestrial life exists?

RH:  Well, when I think about it, we all live in The Matrix, so it really doesn’t matter.  Haha!  Thinking about it, since the universe is infinite, there’s definitely a chance there might be another planet similar ours.

DG: Absolutely.  Yes, there is.  We are just a tiny dot in the solar system. I’m not sure life outside of Earth would look exactly Echo, but I’m sure there are all kids of lifeforms that would absolutely boggle our minds.

PFS:  Munch, Tuck and Alex were best friends in the movie, and you seemed like best friends on screen, so how was it like hanging out with them off-screen? 

RH:  Dave had this awesome idea.  We all went to Universal City Walk to break the ice a couple days before filming.  We did this thing where you fly above a (giant) fan so it’s like you are skydiving.  It was so cool and really fun.  We went bowling.  I got destroyed at that, and we went somewhere for dinner.  In the movie, we were supposed to be best friends like we’ve been friends forever.  It was cool to get out the jitters, have some fun and get to know each other before we started filming.  This is a big thing for us, because this is our first movie.  It was very nerve-wracking, but it make it a lot easier.   We are best friends now!

PFS:  Ella Wahlestedt plays Emma, and she joins the three boys on this adventure.  What did her character bring to the movie?  

DG: These boys are on this adventure, and like any group of friends, there is backstory.  There is stuff you see on screen, and there is stuff you don’t know from previous experiences.  We thought it would be fun to see what would happen to this group of friends when a girl (Emma) is thrown into the gang.   It does create this conflict amongst the boys.

RH: Emma definitely had a different angle.  She thought of things the three of our characters didn’t think about.  Alex, Tuck and Much were rushing, and Emma was a little more savvy than us.   If it wasn’t for Emma, the story would have stopped a long time ago because she saved us from the “Construction Guy” in one scene.  The adventure would have been done right there, so she definitely is a huge contributor to the entire story.   You need a girl’s perspective, and she got us all in line.

PFS:  What are your some of your favorite sci-fi movies?

RH: I’m definitely an “Aliens” (1986) and “The Matrix” (1999) fan. My favorite type of movie is Sci-fi, and I’m not saying that just because I’m in one.  I love Sci-fi because it has this sense of wonder I really don’t get from any other types of movies.  It’s so fun to learn about the science, and my character, Munch, would really like that too.

PFS:  Do you have a cell phone and has anything crazy happen to it?

RH:  I do have a phone, and (the only thing crazy is) my phone dies after 13 minutes after a full charge.   No, I haven’t found any aliens just yet.

Transformers: Age of Extinction - Movie Review by Monte Yazzie

Transformers: Age of Extinction  

Director: Michael Bay

Starring: Mark Wahlberg, Nicola Peltz, Jack Reynor, Stanley Tucci, and Kelsey Grammer

By Monte Yazzie

It’s clear that there are plenty of different explosions Michael Bay can generate in 165 minutes. The fourth incarnation, which forgoes the cast from the past three films, introduces a world where the Transformers are hunted as fugitives and are forced into hiding. Bay, synonymous with the summer blockbuster, throws more narrative into the drawn-out continuing story of the battling robots yet “Age of Extinction” feels the most void of substance in the franchise lineup.

Earth has been saved from destruction but at the cost of a devastated Chicago. In the wake of the battle a black ops government group is reshaping the world with intentions of never needing the Transformers again. Betrayed by the humans they came to protect, Optimus Prime and the Autobots are in hiding. Cade Yeager (Mark Wahlberg) is an inventor living in Texas who finds Optimus’ damaged semi-truck alteration in a rundown theater. The black ops group, organized by a C.I.A. higher-up (Kelsey Grammer) and supported by a tech mogul (Stanley Tucci), is looking for Optimus who is brought back to function by Cade. Optimus and the remaining Autobots must fight for humanity again against an ancient foe and a newly developed weapon.

Bay continues the onslaught of special effects however things seem to be more comprehensive effects wise than the transforming chaos of the past films. Still, the monotony settles in rather quickly as the battle scenes become indistinguishable from each other. Transformers fight, someone retreats, they fight again, repeat. Ehren Kruger, the writer of all but one of the films, adds more narrative developments and side plots than necessary. Characters are introduced quickly, some lost in the mix or simply discarded along the way, though there are noteworthy ones mostly because of the performances from the actors. Stanley Tucci is excellent as an outlandish inventor, supplying the film with humor along with a morality note. Kelsey Grammer demonstrates his intimidation and Titus Welliver barks head shaking tough guy sentiments as the leader of the black ops squad. Wahlberg does his best with the character; amongst numerous issues with the character the most confusing is how to an inventor becomes such a capable combatant.

The Transformers are given numerous foes yet none feel particularly threatening. It’s an issue that flaws many summer popcorn films. Danger is merely a notion without any consequences. There is nothing wrong with simple, easily viewed entertainment. Still, it’s difficult to identify what audience this film is for? It’s too long to hold the attention of young viewers and fans of the franchise won’t find anything different to separate this experience from the past films. If a routine, special effects laden film is what you are looking for and you have the time already set aside, “Transformers: Age of Extinction” might be for you.

Monte’s Rating

2.00 out of 5.00

Korengal - Movie Review by Michael Clawson

Korengal  

Directed by Sebastian Junger

From Outpost Films

Rated R

84 minutes

Restrepo follow-up provides delicate examination of soldiers in war

by Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

What we don’t understand about battle-born PTSD isn’t that troops want out of the war zone, but they want back in.

That is one of many interesting new insights in Korengal, the sequel and follow-up to the award-winning Restrepo, which featured a platoon of soldiers in Afghanistan’s deadly Korengal Valley, where gorgeous scenery concealed hundreds of enemy combatants and the daily hell they brought to American troops.

Restrepo is the name of the sandbagged outpost perched high up on a mountain in Korengal. It’s named after a soldier who was killed there. The way the soldiers talk about their mountain fortress reminded me a lot of Apocalypse Now. Restrepo was their Kurtz compound. But instead of a long ponderous journey down a river to get there, they’re airlifted there in a day. There’s no acclimation. One day they’re somewhere safe; the next they’re in the maws of the mountain, a death zone that will torment them throughout their tour.

And yet, when the soldiers talk about it, Restrepo is their home. They feed off the danger, the rush of firing that massive 50-caliber machine gun, the crack of bullets over their head, the solidarity of their weary band of brothers. Sebastian Junger’s documentary benefits because it doesn’t have to say anything; it lets the soldiers speak. And we have the opportunity to listen.

Of course, it helps if you’ve seen Restrepo, though that’s certainly not mandatory. Some of the footage will look alike; Korengal is essentially B-roll from the earlier movie. But where Restrepo was more about the perils of war, this movie is more ponderous and concerned with the details of the day-to-day living and fighting. Korengal Valley is home to an Al Qaeda highway, but it “looks like Colorado Springs,” one soldier says. He walks us through the nicknames of some of the pre-sighted hills — Spartan Spur, Nipple Rock, Honcho Hill. Personalities start to come out heavier. One soldier romanticizes his machine gun in a way only other soldiers will relate to.

The troops confirm something that Americans might be unsettled by: they love the firefights. Injuries and deaths were always awful, but the occasional skirmish lets them blow some steam off. And their weapons become extensions of their souls, screaming to release. One man is asked what he’s going to miss. “Shooting people,” he says.

The firefights serve an important purpose beyond their obvious catharsis — they are proof the enemy is still there. Silence and boredom have been known to wage wars of attrition in Korengal. On slow days, the troops lounge around, the weight of the world grinding against them. If only they had something to shoot, or kill, or blow up. When the enemy doesn’t come to them, they go to the enemy on patrols to nearby villages, where villagers greet them. “That guy accepts our 10-pound bag of rice during the day. Fires RPGs at us at night. And then the next day he smiles and waves. Fuck his heart. Fuck his mind,” a soldier says, quoting LBJ’s mission in Vietnam to win “hearts and minds.”

The movie has some absurd imagery right out of a Joseph Heller novel: soldiers firing their machine guns wearing only their military-issued boxer shorts, soldiers playfully holding hands on a patrol, and a scene of a guitarist smashing his guitar at Restrepo so it can’t be played anywhere else. War might be hell, but it’s also surreal and strange.

Junger filmed Korengal and Restrepo with photojournalist Tim Hetherington, who was later killed while covering the Arab Spring in Libya. His camera work is exceptional because he focuses on what matters most — faces. It’s a personal touch from which the movie benefits greatly.

Korengal might be a slight rehash of Restrepo, but it gives us another chance to listen to soldiers tell us their stories. We should never stop listening.

Night Moves - Movie Review by Michael Clawson

Night Moves  

Starring Jesse Eisenberg, Dakota Fanning, Peter Sarsgaard and Alia Shawkat

Directed by Kelly Reichardt

From Cinedigm, Maybach Films and RT Features

Rated R

112 minutes

Suspense is the star of Kelly Reichardt’s cold eco-thriller Night Moves

by Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

The opening moments of Kelly Reichardt’s hauntingly bleak Night Moves re-establish the director’s brand of proto-realism: characters wander, stare, skulk, sit, stand, lean, ponder, mumble and drive, though no two at the same time. To find comparably one-tracked, and terminally silent, characters we have to reach back to 1968, when men in monkey suits did a 20-minute cold-open for 2001: A Space Odyssey.

This is an excruciatingly nuanced method. Slow and agonizing, and yet also perceptive and whisper-soft. This methodical pace and volume is the hallmark of Reichardt, whose work was first widely seen in Wendy and Lucy, in which Michelle Williams camped around a Northwestern town with a dog. Williams returned for Reichardt’s next film, Meek’s Cutoff, a period piece about settlers and their clueless prairie guide. The film’s tone and half-muffled dialogue baffled audiences and critics alike.

In Reichardt’s Night Moves, which she co-wrote with frequent collaborator and Mildred Pierce writerJonathan Raymond, the director doesn’t stray too far from those flat, realistic performances that have marked her previous pictures. The film opens on Josh (Jesse Eisenberg) and Dena (Dakota Fanning) as they bop through an Oregon town running some errands, including one at a nude day spa, a suburban home to buy a boat, and to an organic vegetable farm. As things start getting pieced together, a shocking plot develops: Josh and Dena are eco-terrorists and are planning to blow up a dam that, in their minds, represents America’s energy dependence.

They are helped in their endeavor by Harmon (Peter Sarsgaard), a fellow True Believer, who seems to have hyped up his own intelligence by simply saying it out loud over and over again. The three eco-terrorists have their target, their delivery device and their window of opportunity, but not the bomb, which requires a visit to a nearby fertilizer plant. Dena, her innocent face and blond locks hardly threatening, is elected to go make the purchase even though the sale of 500 pounds of ammonia nitrate — the primary compound used in the Oklahoma City bomb — would likely send up some red flags. It’s this scene, as well as several others, that reveal a secondary motive for Night Moves: it’s a suspense thriller. An effective one, too.

Reichardt’s pacing does wonders to the thrills. Even scenes of Josh towing the boat, it’s hull overloaded with explosives, through a recreation area left me jittery and ready for pretty much anything. Later, after the bomb’s timer has been started, as the trio are paddling away from the dam, a car blows a tire on a dam overlook, forcing the driver to get out and change the tire with the bomb-boat in clear view over his shoulder. The rules of suspense require this scene, which allows the three leads to tremble in their boat while the tire-changer struggles with his lugnuts. And remember what Hitchcock said about suspense: bombs exploding are less suspenseful than bombs not exploding.

Later in the film, as Josh, Dena and Harmon separate, the film becomes a meditation on trust, guilt and the adage “honor among thieves.” Night Moves is seen entirely from the perspective of the Eisenberg’s Josh character, who seems to have no personality whatsoever. He does have ideas, though he’s a victim to their results. Josh lives on a family farm run by some hippy types who have more balanced principles. “I’m not interested in statements. I’m interested in results,” the main farmer says after the terrorist act. Someone asks: You don’t call the destruction of a dam results? “No, I call that theater.” Later, this same farmer learns of Josh’s involvement in the dam explosion and the single human death it caused. He kicks him off the farm, which provides one of the subtle visual wonders of Night Moves: Josh driving a gas-guzzling truck past a bank of electrical boxes. Another razor-sharp image can be seen from inside an RV, its passengers watching the Price is Right while supposedly “camping.”

The movie isn’t really interested in the environment, sustainable water usage, marine biodiversity, organic farming, or other ideas from the granola belt. It’s an examination on the choices people make and the repercussions from those choices. The performances are slow and tedious, but that’s no slam on Eisenberg and Fanning, both of whom do what all actors in Reichardt movies do — they underplay everything. A looser, more ambivalent film might unravel under those conditions, but Night Moves is wound as tight as its characters. That allows for an interesting experiment in acting, story and suspense.

Transformers: Age of Extinction - Movie Review by Michael Clawson

Transformers: Age of Extinction  

Starring Mark Wahlberg, Stanley Tucci, Kelsey Grammer, Nicola Peltz, Jack Reynor and Titus Welliver

Directed by Michael Bay

From Paramount Pictures

Rated PG-13

165 minutes

Transformers 4 looks a lot like Transformers 1-3

by Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

Michael Bay is just trolling critics now.

When it was announced he was making a fourth Transformers movie with a new cast and new storylines, there was a suggestion in the tone of the press releases and other news that the quality and style of the film might change. People were batting around the word “reboot,” which is a word that intrigued me after the painfully awful first trilogy, in which Shia LaBouef spent nearly 8 hours bathed in digital calamity.

But after seeing Transformers: Age of Extinction, it’s obvious Bay has no desire to tinker with his formulas. Really, though, it’s not about desire, because I don’t think Bay really cares. It’s more about ability: Michael Bay can’t make a better movie. It’s beyond his talent and scope. He’s the Walmart of film directors. He makes expensive stupid movies that appeal to people who can be suckered into paying for the same thing four times. He’s settled on that career path. It’s time we all accepted this as well.

That’s a hard thing to do, though, especially when you’re three hours deep in a movie filled with what is essentially the same exact imagery over and over again. How many times can you watch low-angled shots of a hero Transformer shooting at an enemy Transformer? Here’s a whole movie to determine your breaking point.

Starring in this Transformer outing is Mark Wahlberg as Cade Yeager, a name that is supposed to conjure the spirit of adventure and bravery that is Chuck Yeager, the test pilot that first broke the sound barrier. Cade is a penniless tinkerer and inventor in the most wholesome town in America, where screen doors, windchimes, rocking chairs on wooden porches and American flags are seen so prominently they deserve below-the-title billing. It’s as if a Toby Keith song vomited all over a Cracker Barrel.

Trucker-hat-wearin’ ‘Murican patriot Cade — whose oblivious customers actually pay $20 for Discman repairs — makes a trip to a local condemned theater to scavenge for invention parts. He meets the theater owner’s son, an effeminate man with a wobbly handshake (gay joke?), who sells him an old 35mm projector and a demolished big rig that turns out to be Optimus Prime, the Transformer leader who has gone into hiding after the destruction of Chicago in Transformers 3. Later, because the plot demands it, a CIA strike team descends on Cade’s farm to search of Optimus.

And then the movie delivers its first double rainbow of awfulness: Cade tells a government goon he doesn’t have a warrant to search his farm. The agent points at his nose and says, “My face is my warrant.” What does that even mean?! Was his face drafted by a lawyer and signed by a judge? Or does he mean that his face is so mean-looking that doors just open for him? I’ll buy you tickets to a better movie if you can explain this line in a reasonable manner. Anyway, Cade’s daughter Tessa — wearing an outfit only worn by exotics dancers on Western Night at strip clubs — turns up so she can be threatened, kidnapped and thrown into danger only to be saved by men. To Bay, women are useless sex objects that would cease existing without male heroes. But don’t take my word for it; watch his movies. Any of them.

Optimus and his human companions eventually escape using a five-story rally car death-drop that is so implausible it makes the transforming robots seem kind of pedestrian and normal. They drive 20 minutes or so, from Texas to Arizona, to meet up with other Transformers including a fat one (voiced by John Goodman), a samurai (Ken Watanabee) and Bumblebee, the yellow one who talks using clips of other Michael Bay movies.

A plot starts coming together, but it mostly resembles the other films. The CIA has aligned itself with a Transformer, whose face literally turns into a gun, to hunt down all the other Transformers for some kind of space zoo. In the deal, the humans get alien technology that will allow them to make their own transforming robots in the style of Megatron, the villain who has been killed in three movies, yet still lives on. The metal used in Transformers is revealed to be Transformium, which is inexplicably dumber than the Unobtanium of Avatar. Kelsey Grammar and Stanley Tucci have minor roles, including a kung-fu break with Tucci as he waits for an elevator that never comes. Seriously, someone should check that elevator because it made this scene really awkward, especially when the female kung-fu warrior just stood there, as if she forgot her lines and Stucci had to mouth her dialogue to her off camera.

All of the action is mostly identical to the action of the other movies. Someone could make a game show out of that premise: Which Transformer Movie? You’d have better luck looking for differences in two versions of a Merriam-Webster’s dictionary. My point is proven perfectly in a battle scene here in Age of Extinction, when a Transformer ship destroys the top of the exact same building similarly crunched in Transformers: Dark of the Moon. I guess the CGI artists already had a composite for that building built, so why not reuse it. Every scene is vaguely similar to something already done in previous Transformers movies, be it Gunface and Optimus sword fighting, Bumblebee swooping ragdolled human bodies out of the air, or of Transformers blasting their armguns in heated battles. I will say Wahlberg’s gunsword was new, and also ridiculous. But still new.

All this eventually leads up to many, many product placements, including an Oreo and Waste Management Transformer, more Chevy’s than have ever (or will ever) exist in Detroit, an exploding Victoria’s Secret bus and a shameless scene involving Tucci turning some Transformium into a Beats speaker. As if that weren’t bad enough, Wahlberg can’t even finish a major battle sequence until he swigs from a Bud Light. The biggest product placement, though, might be its final location, China. Remember when Iron Man 3 shot China-specific scenes to help promote the film to that huge market? Here we are again with the final act taking place entirely in the most populated country on the planet. This isn’t cultural outreach; it’s money seeding.

Oh and dinosaurs. There are dinosaurs. Transformer dinosaurs. Nothing more be said about this.

Transformers: Age of Extinction is a terrible movie. All the Transformers movies are this bad. But you know this already. You either know it and don’t see them, or you know it and see them anyway. No one is arguing that these are great or important movies. Bay has his apologists; they’re anyone who buys a ticket. If these movies thrill you and excite you, then I’m glad a film has that power on you. Movies have that power over me — just not these movies. I don’t want to spoil your fun, but I do ask you to consider how many times you would pay for the same thing.

Because Michael Bay is trolling. And your wallet is the victim.

Transformers: Age of Extinction - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Transformers: Age of Extinction  

Starring Mark Wahlberg, Stanley Tucci, Kelsey Grammer, Nicola Peltz, Jack Reynor, Titus Welliver, and T.J. MIller

Directed by Michael Bay

Rated PG-13

Run Time: 165 minutes

Genre: Action/Adventure

Opens June 27th

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Transformers: Age of Extinction acts as a reboot for a franchise that was best left dead. As the Transformers films grow bigger and more expansive, they become increasingly inconsequential. The latest chapter puts character development to the side in favor of bombarding every one of our senses (except common sense, oddly enough), something that’s all too common in the franchise. It’s an unpleasant, grotesque display of commercialism mixed with ambivalence toward making a film worth seeing. It’s a callously empty effort on all fronts, from the misogynistic and sexist creations that come standard in these actioners to the stereotypically vapid, boring human characters to go along with the inherently cold, bland robotic ones. It’s as if Michael Bay and Paramount know the formula to making their films: create more action, make a longer running time, add more locales to sell globally, and have as much optimal product placement as possible. It’s genius!

To describe the plot of the film would probably work better than what plays out on screen, so I’ll attempt to put it as simply and thrillingly as possible: Cade Yeager (Mark Wahlberg) is an automobile mechanic that is struggling financially after his inventions fail to reach their potential. His daughter, Tessa (Nicola Peltz), is introduced as all Michael Bay females are: by her bombshell looks and the way she can wear short shorts. Tessa wants to party and go out with boys, cannot wait until school is out, but also wants to go to college to ensure a future for her and her father. Cade’s business partner, Lucas (T.J. MIller), goes with him to a run-down movie theater to buy parts, discussing the uselessness of much of the old media and how things have changed. Oh, how right they are. They find an old truck that Cade can strip and sell for quite a bit, a steal in his eyes. He soon finds out that it’s Optimus Prime, one of many Transformers that the government has been hoping to find after the battle in Chicago a few years ago.

Remember all the destruction from that battle in Dark of the Moon? Well, C.I.A. man Harold Attinger (Kelsey Grammer) wants to track the robots down and coordinate with Joshua Joyce (Stanley Tucci), an inventor who can create Transformers-like technology, to expel those harmful aliens from this Earth. While that undoubtedly sounds like more than enough plot for the common viewer, there’s more: the opening scene establishes that all that we know about a meteor wiping out dinosaurs is wrong because the Transformers were totally behind it. At this point, it’s as if Michael Bay and Co. know that they are trolling all of the United States and want to get away with as much inane narrative as possible. Did I also mention that Tessa has a boyfriend, Shane (Jack Reynor)? So naturally Cade has to be the protective father figure and berate Shane while simultaneously understanding that he makes his daughter happy and therefore shouldn’t interfere with love. I mean, this stuff practically writes itself.

The first Transformers was respectably campy fun that took a hokey premise and turned it into a fun, engaging spectacle. The second and third films wore the premise thin and added even more nonsensicality to the growing visual assault. The newest in the series amps everything up: the last 100 minutes of its bloated 165 minute running time are filled with non-stop special effects that pummel every shred of visual engagement; there are characters talking about “important” things like past nights when Shane might’ve snuck into the house to be with Tessa; villains deliver monologues before attempting to kill the protagonists; and the Michael Bay Misogyny™ we know and love comes into play. Peltz and Reynor simply can’t act, with the former being defined by her Barbie-like looks and the latter being asked to be a hyper-masculine, seemingly perfect male presence. Just another movie reminder, girls, you’re only good if you’re pretty. Even Stanley Tucci’s character falls in love with an Asian character only to point out that he thinks “she’s hot,” failing to point out that she can kick ass and command her own.

Mark Wahlberg works hard for a paycheck, I’ll give him that. He’s a good actor that couldn’t be more out of place; he stands in front of an American flag multiple times in a ten-minute span, seeming to signify his narrative importance as the all-American, hard-working individual that deserves to succeed in this country. There’s an effort in Ehren Kruger’s script to communicate something about American culture here, but it never comes together to make anything other than an incoherent mishmash of scenarios that allow for things to blow up really well. The special effects are undeniably impressive and lavish, but they’re numbing and fail to complement the story. When the story asks to move to China, it feels like a maddening ploy to grab a global market to make the film more successful. Finance is all that matters nowadays with these big blockbusters. It’s a shame, because we’re stuck with films that recycle old ideas rather than move them forward, and perpetuate stereotypes that should no longer linger in a medium as advanced and sophisticated as film.

Violette - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Violette  

Starring Emmanuelle Devos, Sandrine Kiberlain, Olivier Gourmet, Catherine Hiegel, and Jacques Bonnaffé

Directed by Martin Provost

Rated NR

Run Time: 138 minutes

Genre: Drama/Biography

Opens June 27th

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Violette, a biopic about the French feminist writer Violette Leduc, opens with the title character discussing beauty’s importance to women and her fundamental disagreement with that notion. It’s an effective introduction to a forward-thinking woman in a society that devalues women and their opinions. The film is divided into six distinct parts, each defined by the characters that interact and matter to the protagonist; most biopics would focus on big events, but Martin Provost’s film emphasizes the emotions surrounding the central figure and her increasing loneliness. Her solitude allows her to write honestly and without a filter, a rarity in that day, and her topics lead into compelling arguments surrounding female rights’ issues in today’s world. Abortion and bastardizing children are two heavy concepts embraced as important to understanding feminism and its emergence during that time, illustrating the necessity of this story both in its time frame and the socially evolved, modern world.

Violette Leduc (Emmanuelle Devos) is introduced through her tumultuous relationships, most immediately with her passionless lover. He leaves her to head to Germany to support the war effort as Violette finds her world growing more difficult to sustain. She needs to work but doesn’t know what occupation to take; her partner was a writer who never seemed to write about her, so she uses that creative fuel to try writing herself. When she finishes her book, she tracks down a local feminist writer, Simone de Beauvoir (Sandrine Kiberlain), to present her work. Simone likes the book because of its honesty and recognizes that Violette has the potential to write about things never mentioned before in French culture. They aim to work together on helping each others’ works and providing the country with a new wave of female writing that handles sexuality and love from an innovative perspective.

The film explores Violette’s lesbian affairs and her desire to find love despite her propensity to fall in love quickly and passionately. The first twenty minutes of the narrative are driven by loud outbursts from characters and rooted heavily in characters that we are not familiar with; it sets up a story that feels more empty than it becomes. There’s a grating nature to the manner in which Provost presents those moments, as if the film can only drive forward with characters exchanging abrasive moments of emotional realization. But the majority of the film’s 138 minutes revolves around the quiet, methodical nature of its protagonist and her colleagues. There’s an understated nature to almost every scene after those numbing opening moments, a sign that the characters become properly defined and the performances work in accordance with each other.

Devos is marvelous in the title role, allowing Leduc to transform into an emotionally sheltered woman that hopes to find truths about herself within her works. The film is a character study above all else, not particularly caring about Leduc’s achievements until the final moments; instead, the narrative is more concerned with the emotional devastation and creative frustration Violette faces. The supporting performances are strong and similarly visceral, with Kiberlain in particular using the subtleties of the script to accentuate the romance underlying every action. Provost and his cinematographer use lush, long takes to let the actions speak for themselves, and they provide mostly naturalistic scenes dependent on outside light and nature. Violette is deliberately quiet and understated throughout, a strikingly beautiful feature that demonstrates how the most impassioned, important creativity can come from pain.

Jersey Boys - Movie Review by Monte Yazzie

Jersey Boys  

Dir: Clint Eastwood

Starring: John Lloyd Young, Erich Bergen, Vincent Piazza, Michael Lomenda, and Christopher Walken

From Warner Bros.

134 Minutes

Rated R

By: Monte Yazzie (www.thecodafilms.com)

The Broadway smash “Jersey Boys” has been dazzling audiences for nearly ten years. The musical, getting the big screen treatment from the capable hands of director Clint Eastwood, is based on the tumultuous life of Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons. Known for standards like “Sherry” and “Walk Like A Man”, Valli grew up in rough neighborhood with equally rough friends but was always guided towards music. Eastwood shaped “Jersey Boys” into a film that unfortunately lacked the flair and energy of the stage performance but instead added some character depth for a nostalgic experience.

Eastwood is an avid fan of music, which can be seen by the numerous music documentaries he has produced and the addition of composed music he has created for his films. The 84-year-old icon has done nearly everything in film, recently his directorial catalog has been filled with character driven films within a specific time period. The common thread however has always surrounded people making difficult choices in a complicated world. While the decision for Eastwood to direct a musical for the first time may seem odd, the narrative themes in “Jersey Boys” are all right up Eastwood’s alley.

Francesco Castelluccio (John Lloyd Young), who would later change his name to Frankie Valli, grew up on the mean streets of Belleville, New Jersey. Getting in trouble with the mob or joining the military, as narrator Tommy DeVito (Vincent Piazza) explains, were the only two occupations for Jersey youth in 1951, unless you were a talented singer like Frankie. Tommy, a handsome con artist looking for a quick turn, is the leader of the band known as The Four Lovers. Frankie, who has found some singing cred with a local mob boss (Christopher Walken), is brought on as lead singer. With the addition of clean-cut songwriter Bob Gaudio (Erich Bergen), the band finds fame. Though the road to success for the newly christened Four Seasons is filled with struggle.

Eastwood striped “Jersey Boys” down in musical numbers and included more character depth than the stage version. These changes were complimentary for the screen, unfortunately for those familiar with the stage version the alterations in pacing and mood will be sorely disappointing. Eastwood’s mix of gangster film tropes and commentary on the “American Dream” were interesting and worked well when the film shifted into more serious territory. Having many of the stage actors reprise their roles, which included live singing performances on camera, gave the film exceptional musical quality. Still, the film had difficulty changing gears from feel good musical to focused drama and some of the deliberate pacing choices strained the film from scene to scene. For a musical there was a significant lack of score, which was unusually considering there was so much to utilize. It was the music, both the familiarity of the classic hits and moving performances, which has kept the stage production alive for so long. Eastwood, moving the focus away from those qualities, struggled to find an identity for the film.

“Jersey Boys” on screen may not have the audience dancing in the aisles like the stage production but it did bring about the love and nostalgia music invokes. Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons may not be as identifiable as they once were, but their music featured in this film is still recognizable and uplifting.

Monte’s Rating

3.00 out of 5.00

The Grand Seduction - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

The Grand Seduction  

Starring Brendan Gleeson, Taylor Kitsch, Liane Balaban, Gordon Pinsent, and Rhonda Rogers

Directed by Don McKellar

Rated PG-13

Run Time: 113 minutes

Genre: Comedy

Opens June 20th

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

The Grand Seduction is a charming independent film that puts the mind at ease and engages the audience with eccentricities. It’s a rarity in cinema nowadays to see a film as strangely grounded as this, a throwback to a simpler time of filmmaking where character-driven stories dominated the landscape. The humor is wry and flows with ease, the drama is deeply felt, and the plot meanders around aimlessly as it navigates these characters’ blocked paths. The film centers on the small harbor of Tickle Cove, a fishing haven that is in dire need of a town doctor to help them convince a company to build a factory. The town is ravaged by the economy and has felt the effects of a changing world landscape, with jobs being destroyed by the lessening demand for their blue collar jobs. Small towns and companies simply cannot thrive the way they used to, considering the story starts with a flashback to the 1950s when people felt financially stable and secure. It feels like a myth when played out on screen.

The film’s protagonist, Murray French (Brendan Gleeson), had a strong fishing father but is on welfare now and sees his wife leave for the city to support them financially. These are straining times, as emphasized by the nature of the stereotypically domestic household being torn apart. The wife, who in the town used to stay at home and prepare meals while the men were away for 13 hours a day, is now working more than the husband and attempting to provide the financial support needed for the family. Murray comes up with an idea: a manufacturing or environmental company could move into the town to provide everyone with the jobs they need, yet the town needs to become appealing and have a living doctor to ensure that protection is provided. These are people adjusting to the new world and finding out that they must effectively lie to survive. In comes the help of Dr. Paul Lewis (Taylor Kitsch), a newly graduated doctor who is tricked into coming to their town for a month.

The town has to lie in order to convince him to stay, since their harbor isn’t the most exciting: they tell him that they love cricket (the doctor’s favorite sport), they tidy up the trash-ridden harbors and streets, plant money so he finds it everyday when walking home, and ultimately make him believe that their town is the place for him to be. The story is largely contrived and formulaic when breaking down the elements that traditionally come around in whimsical, light-hearted comedies, as characters aren’t seen doing things when they obviously should, but the framing makes it seem like everyone is oblivious; dialogue is vague and obviously giving away that the characters are lying, but people like Paul believe the liars because they are saying what he wants to hear; and pacing relies on putting drama right after comedy in virtually every scene, making for an uneven mix tonally.

Yet the film shines because of its acceptance of the pessimistic elements of its story. There’s a character in the film who works as a bank teller for a major corporation who knows very well that his job is trivial; he could be replaced by an ATM and it wouldn’t make a difference to the company. The central conflict lies in the fact that these renewable resources that the incoming company is creating are not glamorous, but rather harsh and demanding for workers. The company is led by greedy, seedy individuals that Murray and Paul know are deplorable but the only way this town can survive. Where there should be optimism in a standard comedy, The Grand Seduction asks the characters to accept that their lives will move on, even if their dignity is a bit lost by having to succumb to such low economic standards. Gleeson is excellent in the lead while Kitsch is asked to be charming and not much else, but the film isn’t about performances so much as story. It’s funny, charming, pleasant, and full of just enough commentary that we forgive its flimsy plot.

The Rover - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

The Rover  

Starring Guy Pearce, Robert Pattinson, Scoot McNairy, Gillian Jones, and David Field

Directed by David Michôd

Rated R

Run Time: 102 minutes

Genre: Crime Drama

Opens June 20th

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

The Rover is cold and distant, an unforgiving venture into the heart of economic collapse and personal despair. Writing about the film is one of the more difficult reviews I’ve taken because this opening paragraph has been writing multiple times, each with different takes on the material. There are narrative faults that I find unforgiving and a general set-up that lacks payoff, but the film remains one of the more thematically involving, dense works to reach cinema in quite some time. I found the film empty and calculated and myself wanting more of an emotional connection with the extraordinarily introverted protagonists. But the film’s final half hour does something remarkable: it allows the audience to see everything the film has to offer emotionally while at the same time numbing the audience with senseless violence and pitiless human interaction. It’s as if the filmmakers aimed to desensitize the audience throughout the entirety of the picture and then provide them with a punch to the gut. Instead, they graze the side and give us a bruise.

Set ten years after a global economic collapse, the story centers on the deserted Australian outback where people fight for survival and kill remorselessly. Eric (Guy Pearce) is seen in the film’s opening moments as a silent, ruthless man hunting down his stolen car. Three men hop in while he’s sitting inside a nearby abandoned bar and he insists on getting his car back. Obviously there’s something important in there because he can find another functioning car…so what makes this one so important? That’s the central motivation for Eric throughout the film, with the reveal being teased until its explanation in the final scene. Eric’s journey leads him to discovering a brother of one of those thieves, a young man named Rey (Robert Pattinson) who was left for dead amidst a military battle. He has a gunshot wound to his stomach, and when Eric discovers him he knows that Rey needs help. He also knows that Rey can lead him to his brother and therefore his car.

When dissecting the plot like that, it makes the film seem trivial and simple. At times, it certainly is. This isn’t a narratively complex work when we get past the central premise of economic despair; there are hints at how it could have happened, with everyone insisting on using American currency over anything else, but there’s never a sense of what happened. There are talks of Eric being a farmer while Rey used to live on a farm when he was a kid and everything was overgrown and lost. This world hates them and gives them nothing in return. I find those elements of the film the most affecting and engaging, yet director David Michôd seems to spend more time focusing on the brutality of the world and its uncompromising violence. The film never shies away from gory details, showing a man’s slit throat after a battle and the aftermath of a child being shot dead, amongst others. One horrifying scene shows the men driving by electrical posts that have men tied to them as if they were being crucified. There’s a callousness to the protagonists and their surroundings.

Guy Pearce and Robert Pattinson sell that perfectly, for they are the reason you will get something out of The Rover. Pattinson fills Rey with a tenderness and an endless string of regret and guilt; subtlety exudes from his every action. It’s a remarkably great performance from an actor I have always found grating and insincere. He mines this work for gold. Pearce allows Eric to be a generally unlikable and stubborn man, but the film asks for the audience’s forgiveness on his part in the film’s final moments. He’s always been an outstanding actor and his work here is exemplary. The film uses these performances to explore complex themes, from military presence to economic ruin to violent depravity to using art as a means of connecting to an older, simpler time. But as I reach for understanding the film’s purpose, I cannot get past the hokey, contrived reveal at the conclusion and the meandering nature of the narrative. The Rover is a lofty, beautifully desolate film, but it’s also an emotionless, unreachable enigma.

Interview with Obvious Child star and director

Obvious Child star, director dish   

by Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

A scene in Gillian Robespierre’s romantic comedy Obvious Child takes no prisoners: a pregnant comic with an abortion scheduled for the following day prepares to go onstage for a stand-up performance. A friend tells her to “kill it out there.” The comic, without missing a beat, says, “No, that’s tomorrow.”

The audience I saw Obvious Child with gasped audibly. The air seemed to be sucked out of the room and then replaced with superheated fumes. A hundred seat cushions groaned under unsettled asses. And let’s admit it, the joke is clever. But it pushes — and punches, and curb-stomps — some buttons.

“That was a scripted line,” Jenny Slate, the actress who plays the comic, says of the joke. “I think that’s an important moment … She’s making a joke, putting a toe over the line.”

Slate plays Donna, the meandering millenial with a bun in the oven and an impending abortion on her horizon. She has caring parents, a kind friend and a well-meaning boyfriend — her life is decent, and the baby was unplanned. After the abortion, her life continues, and she finds love. The movie seems to be a counter-punch to the pro-life argument that abortions ruin womens’ lives.

Slate and Robespierre waded into the debate Wednesday during a Scottsdale screening of Obvious Child. They were upbeat and enthusiastic, because, as they see it, they made a comedy movie, not an abortion movie.

“There are a lot of aspects that are new or stick out about this movie. This is my first leading role and this is Gillian’s first movie, and what we were initially trying to do was just to make a movie. The story, to us, is modern and natural. We aren’t trying to push anyone’s buttons,” Slate says in her gravel-inflected voice. “The situations … some of them haven’t been delved into before in the romantic comedy genre, but we’re trying to make a movie that is thoughtful and funny and satisfying to us.”

Robespierre simplified it further: “We wanted a movie with characters that are actually funny” — Slate laughs at this — “and female characters that get all the good lines. We set out to make this movie and we didn’t go through a studio and we didn’t ask anyone’s permission. We just told a story that we wanted to tell in the voice and the way we wanted to tell it.”

But this is America. And if there’s one thing guaranteed on the same level as piping-hot apple pie, Yankee baseball and a #3 combo super-sized, it’s that abortion is something we fight and argue about from here to eternity.

“I’m not afraid. I’m welcoming the conversation from both sides,” Robespierre says. “I don’t know that the right-to-life people will ever see this movie. They’ll just go off the trailer or what journalists say, and that’s a real shame. I think when you take the layers away, you get ‘romantic comedy’ and ‘abortion’ and those words aren’t really describing what we mean.”

Slate, who’s had bit roles on Bored to Death, Bob’s Burgers, Parks and Recreation and on Saturday Night Live — she was not invited back after letting a “fuck” slip in a live sketch — says Obvious Child aims to create truth in the humanity of real people. “Gillian and I are both feminists. We seek a world where there is equality between the sexes and we think that every woman has a right to choose for their own bodies. We aren’t telling anyone what to do, we’re just presenting one woman and her complex, and hopefully fresh, story.”

The movie was purchased by A24 in the first week of the Sundance Film Festival. “We went in with normal to low expectations,” Robespierre says. “We were just really excited to be at a festival and then one night I was up until 5 in the morning at the [talent agency’s house] negotiating with A24. It’s strange, because we worked very hard and we’re very proud of the movie, but you never know how people will bond to it, or perhaps they won’t. You want them to connect to it. So far it feels like everyone is very excited, and people are connecting with it.”

The connection is unmistakable in scene that inspired the title: as Paul Simon’s “Obvious Child” plays, Slate and her male lead, Office add-on Jake Lacy, dance around in their underwear in a foreplay of giggles, kisses and awkward nuzzling. And then they have the sex that leads to her pregnancy.

“It was a real go-for-it moment for me because well,” Slate says this next part to herself, like an inner monologue, “‘You know you said you wanted to be a lead actress and not just a jokey woman, but a woman with some real sexuality so go for it. Get in your underpants and dance the way you do it and don’t think how other people are doing it. Just do it.’”

And that’s what she did.

Obvious Child opens in Phoenix Friday, June 13.

Obvious Child - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Obvious Child  

Starring Jenny Slate, Jake Lacy, Gaby Hoffmann, Gabe Liedman, David Cross, Polly Draper, and Richard Kind

Directed by Gillian Robespierre

Rated R

Run Time: 83 minutes

Genre: Romantic Comedy

Opens June 13th

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Obvious Child is being labelled as an abortion comedy, and I find that assessment simplistic and a bit unfortunate. The film is a strong, affecting character study about a young woman that hasn’t quite grown up yet. It’s unique in its demonstration of a strong female protagonist and its emphasis on issues that don’t usually get discussed in our media. More specifically, abortion. The film centers on Donna Stern (Jenny Slate), a Brooklyn comedian who often channels her personal life into her work, leading to a break-up with her boyfriend leaving to be with her best friend. They’ve been seeing each other for months and even have a dog together, so she knows it’s real. She finds out the next day that her job is going out the window due to a store closure. Basically everything that could possibly go wrong does.

She does stand-up at a bar regularly, but one night after her break-up she goes on stage drunk and makes a fool of herself. One of her best friends, Joey (Gabe Liedman), encourages her to drink more because she deserves it, which leads to her meeting Max (Jake Lacy). He’s a young, successful student that latches onto Donna’s style, probably because he likes the prospect of an easy one-night stand. They end up having sex, Donna leaves in the morning, and assumes they’ll never see each other again. She’d be wrong. A couple weeks later she finds out that she’s pregnant and plans to get an abortion after telling one of her friends, Nellie (Gaby Hoffmann). Nellie reveals that she’s had an abortion before, and treats it like it’s not a big deal. It’s a rare representation to see how candidly the characters talk about such a touchy subject in our culture, but in reality twenty-somethings treat abortion as a reality of our times, a dramatic turn from the previous generation.

There’s an honesty to Gillian Robespierre’s film and the way it handles real-life issues with a striking intimacy. The film is a prime example of comedy emerging out of pain, with Donna facing constant turmoil and using her stand-up (and alcohol, often) as a catharsis. Yet there’s also the way that abortion doesn’t define these characters. Many women in the film are seen talking about abortion, either because they had one themselves or they know of people that have. It’s not the taboo topic that many believe it to be. The film explores these elements through a solid mix of affecting scenes: a hilarious discussion of how Jewish Donna is in comparison to Max’s Christianity, a muted conversation between Donna and her mother about their 20s, and a biting, frustrated rant from Nellie about women’s rights in today’s world, to name a few.

I’ve seen the film twice, and I love engaging with these characters and their ways of life. There’s a subtlety to every interaction and the script’s confidence in expressing exactly what’s on its mind. Donna has no understanding of filtering her words, and it makes the film much more brutally honest than expected. Obvious Child also proves that Jenny Slate should be leading a lot of raunchy comedies; she commands the screen and helps bring out the nuances of Gillian Robespierre’s script. The film is atypical due to the way the conflict and ebb-and-flow of the story do not follow the abortion, but rather Donna’s everyday struggles with romance. It’s refreshing to see a romantic comedy about something more complex and important than random strangers falling for each other. In tackling a wholly unique topic and handling it with care and grace, Obvious Child is hilarious and daring.