Minons - Movie Review by Michael Clawson

Minions  

Directors: Kyle Balda and Pierre Coffin

Cast: Chris Renaud, Pierre Coffin, Sandra Bullock and Jon Hamm

Rated: PG

Run Time:  91 minutes

Genre: Animation, Comedy, Family

Opens: July 10, 2015

by Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

The Minions might be my guilty pleasure. They are stupid, unredeeming, relentlessly pointless characters who were created to cute-up the mostly despicable Despicable Me franchise. Here they star in an awful prequel filled with awful characters, and all I can do is smile with delight. Because Minions! These little pet characters in their blue overalls and yellow pill-like bodies, their unintelligible gibberish of a spoken language that sounds like a mix-up at the Rosetta Stone factory, their squeaky optimism shrouded in child-like innocence … they are very hard creatures to not like, although Minions does its best to test your limits. The film is an origin story for the lovable henchmen, who previously served (and stole the show from) supervillain Gru in two other films. In the opening credits, we learn that the Minions are their own species, one that evolved in the shadows of greater beasts from the time they were single-celled protozoa through the Jurassic period and right into the age of man. In the opening sequence, it’s revealed they were henchmen for a Tyrannosaurus Rex, a caveman, Dracula and Napoleon — and each time they failed miserably. The Minions end up in a snow cave, where life is not the same without a master to serve in his evil bidding. Kevin, Stuart and Bob volunteer to leave the cave to search for their new boss. They eventually land in New York City and it’s 1968, a great time for crooks, there was even one in the White House. Through casual mistakes and happy coincidences — the universe shines bright on these dopey characters — the Minion trio learn of Villain-Con, a convention for nefarious evildoers. Certainly, they think, they can find a new boss to serve there.

Villain-Con could have been its own movie entirely, with countless booths of crime gadgets and criminal empires, but the film spends two short sequences there until it bounces away with Scarlett Overkill (Sandra Bullock), who enlists the Minions to steal the Queen of England’s royal crown. This is where Minions falls apart.

Kevin, Stuart and Bob — and Bob’s tiny stuffed animal Tim — break into the Tower of London, hypnotize three stripping Beefeaters, tear through London on a stagecoach and a grappling suit, and eventually crash land at the Sword in the Stone, which sets the rest of the film into motion in an unpredictable and mostly blah sorta way. Minions is not high art here, I know that. But it literally could have went anywhere it wanted. The African Serengeti, time traveling, Venus, an office park in Toledo .. anywhere. It begins in primordial soup and quickly features dinosaurs, vampires and a caveman with a primitive flyswatter. How and why this silly film decided to go with this route, of all the routes out there, is a question that will puzzle me. It’s just not interesting, mostly because it requires us to believe that Scarlet Overkill would aim her wrath at three characters that did exactly what she asks. She tells them to steal the crown, and they do, and then she goes all supervillain on her supervillain henchmen for no other reason than the plot demands it. Gru wasn’t written much better, but at least he had more of an arc.

One of the problems here is clearly Bullock, who is not a voice actor and who was added to the cast list because movie executives still think little kids care about celebrity voices. Kids don’t, and guess what, most adults don’t either. I would much rather listen to some unknown professional voice actor do this than someone whose name looks good on a poster. Bullock phones it in, and Minions devotes so much of the second half to her that it’s aggravating. I just want more Minions. How hard is that? Apparently very hard.

There are still some choice gags here, including brief scenes involving a faked moon landing, The Beatles on Abbey Road, and a news reporter who calls the Minions “bald, jaundiced children.” A stop-motion sequence, or a scene made to look like stop motion animation, is a fun addition. The soundtrack is simply perfect, with hits by the Turtles, the Rolling Stones, The Doors, The Beatles and other great era-appropriate bands. I appreciate how the title characters aren’t really that evil, and are genuinely kind and compassionate little creatures — if only they could find fulfillment in some other career.

I love these little characters. If only they had a better movie to call their own.

Cartel Land - Movie Review by Michael Clawson

Cartel Land  

Director: Matthew Heineman

Rated: R

Run Time: 98 minutes

Genre: Documentary

Opens: July 10, 2015

by Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

“We don’t want to be doing this,” the man in the mask says as he looks at the camera crew documenting him. “If we could we would have normal jobs, like you guys.” And then he and other men in masks, assault rifles slung around their necks, start making meth in the Mexican desert.

Cartel Land is an unnerving documentary about the way the drug trade, in particular the Mexican drug cartels, are ripping apart worlds north and south of the border. On the north side, we are shown America’s self-appointed border protectors, an armed militia of conspiracy nuts and soldier of fortune types who watch Sean Hannity while they clean their guns, sharpen their knives and mumble about conspiracies in their soup. They keep saying they’re not racist, but then say what can only be interpreted as racist opinions. The meat of this film takes place south of the border, where a tall gray-haired doctor named José Manuel Mireles has had enough of the cartels and their wanton cruelty, including one particularly awful massacre in which 13 men, women, children and babies are killed after a lime grower refused to pay cartel protection money. Mireles jumps into action in the southern state of Michoacan, where the Knights Templar Cartel has reigned over the people. Enough is enough, he says. He tours through villages and gives a heartfelt plea: join us to rise up against the cartel so we can take back our towns. And people join him.

Cartel Land depicts the uprising with a patriotic zeal, with convoys of armed young men bouncing through the Mexican streets, manning checkpoints at the village edges, and raiding cartel members’ homes. Some of the men are skilled fighters, and look the part with body armor, advanced weaponry and communications equipment. Other fighters are just kids, their tiny hands comically out of place on oversized pistols and AK-47s. One man wears a holster that holds a nickel-plated revolver with a pearl handgrip — it’s the Wild West.

Through diligent patrolling, cartel raids and tight security, Mireles’ paramilitary defense force succeeds in driving out Knights Templar members. When the Mexican government gets wind of armed groups maintaining order, it sends the army to confront Mireles and his group. Federales disarm the ragtag defenders, but the townspeople hit the streets in protest of the army. The crowd grows so big and so angry, the army returns the guns and drives away.

These events are exciting and moving, but Matthew Heineman’s film doesn’t let you off the hook that easily, though. It portrays these events with a hint of malice, with just a slight suggestion that something more diabolical might be at work here. In one scene, we see the good doctor tell another man to question, and likely torture, a known drug member. “Get everything you can out of him and put him in the ground,” Mireles says in the shadows of a roadside checkpoint. Later scenes seem to hint that the raids aren’t linked to cartel members, but to people the defense force wants to rob. After one raid, armed men ransack the house and leave with electronics and stacks of clothing still on hangers. The turning point came for me during a daytime raid that nabbed a man that supposedly fired on the town’s police force. As the man is being hauled away, his family pleads with the men in tears to let him go. His daughter threatens to kill herself. It seems unlikely that the man would fire on anyone with his family in the car, right? But then he also has a big luxurious car, designer clothes and one man notices his skin is too smooth for hard labor? Maybe he is a cartel lieutenant. So much is unknown, but the man is hauled away to detention center where the screams of men can be heard piercing through the concrete hallways.

Cartel Land is essentially a Batman story. It’s about vigilantes, their origins and their undoings. Remember that line from The Dark Knight: “Die the hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” It’s the only possible outcome here for Mireles and his defense force, which eventually becomes exactly what it was created to fight, a cartel.

Heineman captures all this beautifully, with shots that seem almost too good to be true — guns hanging out car windows, an apparition-like shape emerging from smoke produced during a meth cook and numerous gunfights in Mexican villages. I think the film could be a little more focused, especially with the mostly unnecessary segments north of the border. It has a twist ending that feels a little manipulative, but is still bonkers in how it changes everything we just witnessed.

This is a fascinating and polished documentary that reveals how complicated the war on drugs has been, is now and forever will be.

Self/less - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Self/less  

Starring Ben Kingsley, Ryan Reynolds, Matthew Goode, Victor Garber, and Natalie Martinez

Directed by Tarsem Singh

Rated PG-13

Run Time: 116 minutes

Genre: Sci-Fi/Thriller

Opens July 10th

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Self/less tells a frustratingly familiar story with an intriguing premise. When the overly wealthy individuals in the world feel that their lives are coming to an end, they can posthumously extend their mortality by transferring themselves into a test-tube created vessel. They resemble humans and ultimately carry the same genetic tissue, only that their minds are empty and ready to be manipulated. At least, that's how Albright (Matthew Goode) explains his scientific experiments that have purportedly been used just seven times to potential investors. We know anytime a genius with glasses pops on a screen in a film like this, he cannot be trusted. That's one of the many predictable tropes that Tarsem Singh's Self/less uses as the film navigates practically every familiar element of the sci-fi "man created something potentially evil" subgenre. Yet the film mostly tells its story with urgency and tact, deriving strong performances from its leads and mostly making sense when most others would toss logic out the window. It makes the film both predictably enjoyable and inherently simple, which should appease certain audiences and frustrate others.

The film opens on a dying Damian (Ben Kingsley), a billionaire who has amassed his wealth through real estate and other shady business deals that get someone that much money. He has recently been referenced to a company that can "shed," meaning you can transfer your mind from your dying body to another younger, more lively one. His business partner and close friend, Martin (Victor Garber), helps him make arrangements for when the company moves on without its CEO, and Damian prepares for life after death. That old saying certainly has a new meaning now, doesn't it? Alas. He gets transferred to a new body and goes by Edward (Ryan Reynolds), leading a single life in New Orleans while occasionally going through bouts of seizures when he doesn't take his medicine. These seizures involve intense "hallucinations" that feel like memories, linking him back to the Iraq War and to a Latina woman and her daughter that seem to hold an emotional connection to him. Young Damian, or whatever you want to call him, knows that something is wrong. This isn't what he paid for.

The story then escalates and mostly devolves into impressive action scenes that move at a brisk pace. There's never really a moment of incompetence or halting in the narrative, a sign that the story is well constructed and balanced between action and drama. But one of the most telling things about the film is that, after leaving the theater, I attempted to engage with the film and talk about what I had seen with a friend. We mostly said we enjoyed it, liked the performances, etc., but we could not pinpoint a single part that popped or made us enthusiastic about our entertainment. Simply put, Self/less falls into that bland category of serviceable science fiction that doesn't particularly provoke or excite. It's not an original premise in terms of how many mind swapping or altering science-fiction films we've seen in recent years, even if Singh and writers David and Alex Pastor make the film an emotionally impactful journey. There's always precedent for something happening in the narrative, strong foreshadowing, a sense of emotional stake. Yet all of those elements are handled in ways that better, more insightful films have accomplished. That doesn't make Self/less a bad film, just a lifeless one.

Magic Mike XXL -Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Magic Mike XXL  

Starring Channing Tatum, Matt Bomer, Joe Manganiello, Gabriel Iglesias, Jada Pinkett Smith, and Amber Heard

Directed by Gregory Jacobs

Rated R

Run Time: 115 minutes

Genre: Comedy/Drama

Opens July 1st

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Magic Mike XXL is an entirely different experience than Steven Soderbergh's 2012 original. While both are sun-soaked and laden with oiled, chiseled men, their tones are polar opposite. Director Gregory Jacobs (whose work as an assistant director on many Soderbergh films lends him perfectly to the franchise) makes the newest film an absolute blast and celebration of sexuality, using stripping as a form of self expression and pride. The previous film was a dangerous tale of power and addiction, having Channing Tatum's titular character devolving into a world plagued by morally corrupt individuals. I prefer Soderbergh's vision, but there's no denying the charisma on display in Magic Mike XXL's infectiously funny script. It's a rare mainstream film that touts sexuality as something to be enjoyed, not feared or judged. Oddly enough, Tatum and his fellow stripping actors deliver the goods that many male-attracted audiences sought after in the first film, even if the story has been stripped of much of its bite. Magic Mike XXL is still a consistently if surprisingly funny and zippy film.

The story focuses on Mike's (Channing Tatum) adventures after three years away from stripping. He owns his own construction/renovation company in Florida with only one other worker; he seems to enjoy the work since he's good at it, but it's mundane and doesn't connect him with many people he really enjoys. A return to being a "male entertainer" seems in store. He gets a message on his phone that informs him of one of his stripper friend's death, only to realize he's been tricked by Tarzan (Kevin Nash) to join his stripper friends on a new adventure. This go-around, instead of being brought into the dark world of stripping, Mike goes after the nostalgia of an unpredictable time and heads with the men to a stripper convention on the East Coast. Matthew McConaughey's lead character from the first film has left, leaving the dynamics to the remaining members: bad-boy Richie (Joe Manganiello), Barbie companion Ken (Matt Bomer), and ambitious Tito (Adam Rodriguez). Along for the journey is driver Tobias (Gabriel Iglesias), rambunctious Zoe (Amber Heard), and Rome (Jada Pinkett Smith), who can only be described as a fierce pimp of male strippers. Suffice to say, you can't really get more of a diverse group than this.

Magic Mike XXL basically acts as a road trip comedy that remains all about characters and their ridiculously ripped physiques. To concern yourself with exposition in a film like this is to wonder where exactly these men store all of their baby oil throughout their journey; it's something with which you shouldn't concern yourself. The actors all-around prove more than game for the fittingly funny story, mostly involving frat-boy shenanigans and people ogling over strippers who cannot seem to take anything seriously outside of their craft. Speaking of which, the stripping scenes in the film are admittedly inventive and kinetic. Coming from a straight male, that's high praise; imagine how audiences that enjoy male strippers will react. Tatum is a good actor and proves that here, making his Mike a man clearly driven by a desire to find love and rediscover his passions. The supporting roles are well-written too, with Pinkett Smith absolutely owning her role, exuding sexuality and power like no other. And that's the film's defining point: it owns sexuality and makes it universally appealing and celebrated. That's such a rarity and done without shame that it makes Magic Mike XXL an impressive sequel, even if it's slightly less ambitious than its predecessor.

Terminator Genisys - Movie Review by Michael Clawson

Terminator Genisys  

Starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, Emilia Clarke, Jai Courtney, Jason Clarke, and J.K. Simmons

Directed by Alan Taylor

Rated PG-13

Run Time: 122 minutes

Genre: Sci-Fi/Action

Opens July 1st

by Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

Cheering for the villain is only called for in extreme cases, but here, with the woefully spelled Terminator Genisys, all I can say is: Go Skynet!

Yes, Skynet — the sentient robot army that becomes self aware, nukes mankind and then enslaves the survivors in futuristic death camps — deserves your cheers and untethered adoration if only because it’s the second best way to protest the existence of this clunky hunk of sequel. The best way is to not see it at all, but Terminator fans have taken abuse before (see Terminator 3) and they’ll do it again here.

Terminator Genisys is a big dumb movie. From its big dumb title all the way down — it’s dumb at a cellular level. It’s so dumb that one movie couldn’t contain all it’s stupidity, so it had to reach back into its own filmography to fondle with the earlier movies in an inebriated stupor. It plays this up like an endearing tribute or homage, but it feels more like grave robbing.

We begin with Kyle Reese, who you’ll recall is the future soldier sent back in time to protect Sarah Connor, mother of the leader of the human rebellion, in 1984’s The Terminator. After infiltrating a Terminator time travel base in 2029, Reese is sent back a handful of decades to what should be James Cameron’s first movie, but instead he finds an alternate timeline that now is a convergence of both The Terminator and Terminator 2: Judgment Day, including another blank-faced liquid metal T-1000. In the future, somewhere between “almost defeated” and “defeated” Skynet realizes that the humans had out-Back to the Future’d them, so they just start sending Terminators everywhere, or everywhen, which is how Genisys acknowledges its cinema roots and also exploits them.

The movie stars Jai Courtney, who opens the whole damn picture with the most unnecessary and heavy-handed exposition-filled narration — it makes Harrison Ford’s theatrical Blade Runner voiceover sound downright peppy. He plays Reese, rebel leader John Connor’s right-hand man, and also his younger father, which only makes sense in the Terminator universe. Sarah Connor, John’s soon-to-be mother (stay with me!), is played by Game of Thrones’ Emilia Clark, a feisty little robot killer with a gun taller than she is by at least a foot. Arnold Schwarzenegger is the only returning actor, and here he plays several Terminators, including one fresh out of the Skynet bubble wrap (it’s a naked stunt double with a CGI Arnold mask). The main Terminator, called Pops, is showing his age, a point that is explained away by saying that Terminators age, which seems to go against canon, but whatever.

These three go tearing through 1984, and then time-travel to 2017, where Skynet is ready to launch Genisys, a computer system that gadget-hungry modern-dayers paw over in gleeful anticipation. I wasn’t really sure what the product does, and I’m assuming it’s some kind of Siri-like appointment scheduler — Genisys: “Today is your salon appointment. And tomorrow nuclear armageddon.” The subtext here is that Skynet is a lot like Apple, another company with a legion of devoted fans and enough hardware to link the world (nukes and all) in web of disharmony. But the joke falls dreadfully flat.

The film is largely a series of despondent chase sequences, each more mindless than the one that preceded it, including one that begins with a liquid Terminator materializing out of nowhere, and one that ends with a crashed helicopter arriving at the intended destination faster than a non-crashed helicopter. A school bus chase on the Golden Gate Bridge has both a school bus and a bridge of golden gates and yet has a climax so utterly boring that it has to end with the COPS theme song to jazz it up. The chases go nowhere and accomplish nothing, and they only serve as interludes to bigger set pieces in spark factories and generic server warehouses. Recall the build-up in the earlier films:Terminators doing their detective work, hunting for leads, killing other Sarah Connors, waving photos of John around at the mall dressed as a cop … all that nuance and prelude to action is gone. It’s traded in for lines like, “Oh no, he’s behind us,” and “faster, faster” and then 22 minutes of vehicular destruction. But how did the Terminator get there? Where did he come from? Where are you driving? What is even happening? I couldn’t hear an answer in the noise.

Say what you will about James Cameron and his well-documented eccentricities, but he was, and still is, a visual storyteller of the highest caliber. He knew how to edit his films, how to pace action, how to use film’s complex grammar to create visual coherence, and he knew how to make grand science fiction masterpieces out of very simple ideas. Genisys is not simple, and I’m not just talking about the time travel. It’s a sloppy mess all over, with plot holes, dead ends, choppy editing, characters of little significance, dialogue that is recited (never spoken), and it tinkers with the franchise in such a major way that it feels malignant and terminal. There is no coming back from what this film sets in motion.

Cameron’s T1 and T2 are action juggernauts, and nothing was going to touch them, so I’m not faulting Genisys for failing to top those classics. But it’s just as sloppy as Terminator 3, if not more so, and that says a lot because that movie was all over the place. And people like to dump on Terminator 3 and Terminator Salvation, but despite their obvious faults both films made noteworthy deviations in Terminator lore: T3 showed us that the robot apocalypse was unavoidable, no matter how many Arnolds came back, and Salvation ditched the time travel elements completely to just focus on John Connor and what made him so important to the resistance. Genisys does its damndest to undo the whole franchise by reaching way back to fumble around with the very origins of what Cameron created. It’s so unfortunately ill-conceived it feels blasphemous. And if the franchise keeps degrading at this rate, we’re two movies away from late-night Terminator infomercial.

Now, to be fair, Cameron has come out in support of this movie, which seems odd, but I will take him at his word. Fans, though, don’t owe Genisys any lip service and I think they’ll see through the film’s wanton disregard for what made the franchise great to begin with — impressive visual storytelling and its straightforward science fiction plot, both of which are muddied here. Director Alan Taylor, so good with everything he directs on HBO, should stick to television, where plot and characters aren’t steamrolled into the landscape. He was dealt a hard blow when the marketing team revealed the plot twist (spoiler alert, sorta) that John Connor (Jason Clarke) had turned into a Terminator. But problems began long before that. They began when the film decided the rest of the franchise was fair game and then — and this is my key argument — didn’t even attempt to make a film that could match the power of the first two.

The last time I saw a franchise fall this hard it involved crystal skulls and Shia LaBeouf Tarzan swinging with monkeys. Franchises should stop while they’re ahead.

And, hail Skynet.

Terminator Genisys - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Terminator Genisys  

Starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, Emilia Clarke, Jai Courtney, Jason Clarke, and J.K. Simmons

Directed by Alan Taylor

Rated PG-13

Run Time: 122 minutes

Genre: Sci-Fi/Action

Opens July 1st

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

The more I think about Terminator Genisys, the less of a film it becomes. The Terminator franchise has entered its fifth entry with decidedly little fanfare after the third and fourth entries proved underwhelming: Terminator: Rise of the Machines was a bridge film without a strong conflict and Terminator Salvation was that one movie where Christian Bale screamed at a guy on-set. The series has grown forgettable since James Cameron left the director's chair. He brought the iconic franchise to life and director Alan Taylor, following up his 2013 effort Thor: The Dark World, seems to clearly admire the visual and storytelling flair that Cameron and his writers employed. Perhaps too much so, for he rarely has an original idea both visually and thematically without tying it to the emotions and awe that those first two entries inspired. T2 is particularly fantastic, yet when Terminator Genisys attempts to re-create the T-1000 here, it doesn't feel like homage or nostalgia, but rather stealing. It's a shame, then, that the film continues that trend and uses some strong set pieces but never makes much sense even by time-travel standards.

The story picks up with the futuristic battle to stop Skynet, the popular CPU that developed into a man-killing army of machines hellbent on taking over the planet. The Resistance is led by John Connor (Jason Clarke), who works with long-time friend Kyle Reese (Jai Courtney). Kyle was born after the world changed, and John showed him that Terminators could indeed be killed; this enlightened him and sent them both toward a fight that had to be won for humanity's sake. Sure enough, in the film's opening moments, victory is achieved. But Skynet had a last-minute plan to send one of theirs back in time to kill John Connor before he was born; therefore, Kyle Reese must go back in time to prevent this from happening. John has ulterior motives, obviously, and for those familiar with the plot of the first two films you know exactly why. Alas, Kyle is sent back to 1984 and meets the fabled Sarah (Game of Thrones' Emilia Clarke), who has been protected since childhood by the T-800 (a returning Arnold Schwarzenegger). As for why he was sent or who sent him, your guess is as good as mine, even after watching.

And that's just the tip of the iceberg in terms of how much plot happens. It appears that the writers decided to use theoretical science as a means of making sense of all of their madness, but isn't that not enough of an excuse for lazy writing? The script is attributed to four individuals, each of whom probably convinced the other that their story made sense if the audience made general assumptions about practically everything happening in the cinematic universe. The concept of "fractured timelines" plays a vital role in allowing all of the characters to interact, but it also doesn't make a lick of sense in terms of how characters know about certain things. The story explains plot points in reverse circular reasoning, which may sound inventive, but it's really a manipulative way of making audiences feel rewarded for understanding something. Besides rarely making a lick of sense, the narrative borrows many of the core story beats from the Cameron entries in the franchise: the T-1000 isn't original anymore so it's not nearly as exciting (but he's Asian!), the idea of Arnold spewing out catchphrases and acting mechanical isn't particularly funny, and the underlying thematic pull of technology being omnipresent feels worn out even if it should feel more relevant nowadays. It's disappointing in that regard.

That being said...well, I can't say I was thoroughly riveted by much of the film, but I didn't find it to be a ghastly mess like many have touted. I think Emilia Clarke is a damn good Sarah Connor, even if her story becomes delegated to romantic melodrama levels at times. Jai Courtney is one of those actors who is completely serviceable and economical as an action star but entirely one-dimensional, like an off-brand potato chip. And Arnold is Ah-nuld, slurring his words as if it's going out of style and proving to be a perfect actor for this type of robotic role. One of the film's main marketing points has been James Cameron touting that Terminator fans will love this film. I'm not so sure. There's a lot of "reseting" and dismissing of previous plot points as the series attempts to restart in the aftermath of the disastrous two entries before this one, in addition to the plans for a new trilogy extending through 2018. I think those long-term goals have shrouded the promise of this entry, as the story admittedly goes down exciting paths but doesn't make enough of them here. Instead, there's so much left for future installments. In that regard, Terminator Genisys isn't as much its own film as it is a misspelled entry in the troubled franchise.

The Overnight - Movie Review by Michael Clawson

The Overnight  

Starring:  Taylor Schilling, Adam Scott, Jason Schwartzman, Judith Godrèche

Director: Patrick Brice

Distributor: The Orchard

Release Date: July 1^st

By Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

“This is California. Maybe this is what parties are like?” It’s that refrain that keeps a married couple stuck in a Los Angeles house for an increasingly awful and awkward overnight dinner party, one that involves breastfeeding how-to videos, paintings depicting “portals” into the human body, red-light massage parlors, and not just one, but two, prosthetic penises. We aren’t supposed to know they’re prosthetics, because the actors are depicting nudity with a special effect, but it’s obvious they are because, well, the pale color, the stiff rubbery flop, and the ’70s-era pubic hair growth. Does it sound like I’m an expert? Well, I am, because I’ve seen Patrick Brice’s The Overnight, which stars four people and two rubber stunt dicks.

Before these faux phalli come out, we have to back up to the previous afternoon: Alex (Adam Scott) and Emily (Taylor Schilling) are in a park with their young son, and they meet proto-hipster Kurt (Jason Schwartzman), who invites them over for dinner. Kurt has a son about the same age, and Alex and Emily are new to the area, so they agree. At Alex’s beautiful home, they meet his wife Charlotte (Judith Godrèche), and they settle in for what appears to be a lovely evening.

If you can sense this going south quickly, then a gold star for you. After the children tucker themselves out and fall asleep, the evening slowly tips into the wild and weird. First wine, then more wine, then pot and then before you know it Kurt is showing Charlotte’s acting video, which involves a nurse manipulating her bare breasts to demonstrate a breast pump. Kurt smiles up at the screen like he’s watching Citizen Kane. Alex and Emily’s jaws are in their laps. But that’s just the beginning as Kurt and Charlotte slowly unravel their complex and often sordid lives in front of their consistently shocked party guests, who try to leave several times but get roped in to sticking around. Eventually they are skinny dipping in the pool, and the film is not shy to show us gratuitous male, albeit fake, nudity. The joke here is that Kurt is well endowed and Alex is not, but one pep talk later and Alex is flaunting with an exuberant glee.

This strange behaviour — and don’t get me started on Kurt’s starfished-shape paintings — unlocks buried fears, anxiety and desires within Alex and Emily, who find themselves less shocked in their hosts and more surprised in each other and their revealing actions. I kept waiting for Kurt and Charlotte to be a more malevolent force, but they are mostly good people, just utterly confused about life, love and each other. And Alex and Emily are hiding repressed feelings that glow white-hot once unearthed. After one particular revealing moment, Alex says, “I feel like I just gave birth to myself.”

This is a strange, strange movie. And it gets stranger the longer it crashes itself into the screen. I can’t say it all works, but it has a kind spirit and a good heart. It’s certainly made better by the four leads, who maintain their chemistry across this one bizarre evening. Scott and Schilling are especially great because they have to contain these bewildered people, who should flee in terror but stick around out of sheer curiosity.

The Overnight is not for everyone, but it has its charms. It also has two fake penises that hijack the movie.

Escobar: Paradise Lost - Movie Review by Michael Clawson

Escobar: Paradise Lost  

Starring: Josh Hutcherson, Benicio Del Toro, Brady Corbet, Claudia Traisac, Carlos Bardem, Ana Girardot, Laura Londoño, Lauren Ziemski

Director: Andrea Di Stefano

Rated: R

Distributor: Radius-TWC

Release Date: 6/26/15

by Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

Nick Brady: Paradise Lost does not have the ring of Escobar: Paradise Lost, but then again Nick Brady does not have the charisma of Pablo Escobar.

But Nick Brady serves a purpose in movies like Andrea Di Stefano’s Escobar. He’s our everyman. Our stranger in a strange land. Our innocent guide into the foreign and deadly world of the most notorious cocaine kingpin the world has ever seen. He’s also a foreigner to Colombia, the people and the movie’s plot. Nick (Josh Hutcherson) is a Canadian surfer who ends up Colombia in 1983. He falls in love with Maria (Claudia Traisac), a confident young woman who points to a billboard with a picture of a menacing face and says that’s her uncle. Uncle Pablo seems nice enough, and he’s some kind of politician. When Nick and Maria attend a lavish party, Nick asks how Uncle Pablo made his fortunes. Maria doesn’t miss a beat, and her smile never fades: “Cocaine.” What transpires next is mostly predictable, but altogether fascinating. Nick is so smitten by Maria that he barely notices himself sinking deeper into Pablo’s clutches of money and extravagance. The hacienda where the Escobar keeps his family is paradise: pools, elephants and other exotics animals, life-size fiberglass statues of dinosaurs in the pastures. At one point we see Pablo dusting his prize keepsake: the car that Bonnie and Clyde were killed in.

The real draw here is Pablo Escobar, played with psychotic finesse by Benecio del Toro. He’s a lovable kind of kingpin. Oafish, domineering, dispensing sage advice in ways that disarm his intimidating 1,000-yard stare. He’s made even more terrifying as he struts around with his wireless briefcase phone, Cosby sweaters and, hilariously, a green corduroy Boston Celtics cap. If you admired Steven Soderbergh’s Che and the great lengths del Toro went to craft that complex character than you will likely be disappointed that this film doesn’t quite reach that level of storytelling. His Pablo is marvelous to watch, but he doesn’t have much arc. He begins the film as Uncle Pablo, and then one day, on the eve of a prison term, he decides to kill everyone, including two infants—two infants too many for this kind of movie. There is no nuance in his monstrosity. And the fact the he would spend so much time doting on and then ultimately trying to kill Nick, seems laughably pointless. A country full of Colombians and we spend the whole movie with the lone gringo.

That is the peril of these types of movies, these pictures about famous people and their sidekicks, assistants or secretaries: the film can’t sustain itself on the Nick Brady’s of the world, and there’s never enough time to develop the Pablos. It happened in The Last King of Scotland, in which a doctor found himself in the inner circle of Idi Amin, and in The Devil’s Double, in which a body double is roped into Uday Hussein’s twisted universe, and it happens here in Escobar. Hutcherson does what he can, and del Toro hits it out of the park, but they don’t have much to work with because their characters are on different trajectories.

Di Stefano does do a commendable job holding these trajectories as best he can, and the film has a unique look and feel to it, although I found the drifting focus and handheld shots to be frequently annoying. He structures the movie out of sequence, and it works really well, especially since the flashbacks and flash forwards don’t tip off the plot points any more than they should. The first half of the film is largely a romance and psychological drama, but it quickly becomes a terrifying narco-thriller as Nick is sent on a mission to bury Pablo’s treasure. It’s a jarring acceleration, and doesn’t altogether work, but the scenes are well executed and appropriately nailbiting.

I did find it very hard to believe, though, that Pablo Escobar would ask his niece’s Canadian surfer boyfriend to drive his loot up into the mountains and then have to commit murder to hide it all. And Nick, apparently out of inexhaustible fear, goes along with it to a point. Let me repeat an earlier sentence here: A country full of Colombians and we spend the whole movie with the lone gringo.

Listen, I’m fond of what this movie does, and what it attempts to do, with Pablo Escobar, who might be one of the greatest villains of the late 20th century. But Paradise Lost doesn’t go far enough. Pablo needs to run, as fast as he can, away from Nick until he finds himself in his own movie.

Ted 2 - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Ted 2  

Starring Mark Wahlberg, Seth MacFarlane, Amanda Seyfried, John Slattery, Giovanni Ribisi, and Morgan Freeman

Directed by Seth MacFarlane

Rated R

Run Time: 108 minutes

Genre: Comedy

Opens June 26th

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Ted 2 is a creatively absurdist rebound for Seth MacFarlane, who brings his cartoonish antics to the big screen in a sequel that proves stronger and less offensive than its predecessor. While MacFarlane still has a knack for poorly conceived jokes regarding race and homosexuality, his film is mostly on-point in a story that deals with the titular teddy bear struggling to establish his personhood in the U.S. This sounds perfectly ripe for our very own Bear Reviews but serves mostly as an excuse for Ted to jump through plenty of hoops in Boston and New York City to return his life to pot-smoking bliss. This is the stoner comedy that MacFarlane wanted to make with his 2012 original, since here the duo of Ted and Mark Wahlberg's John are provided a worthy partner in Samantha (Amanda Seyfried), a brilliant young lawyer who recently passed her BAR exam. She also smokes weed to clear up migraines and, well, that friendship kindles. Suffice to say, Ted 2 is a little too long but never unfunny, driving toward its conclusion with ridiculous force and delivering multiple laughs per minute.

As mentioned before, the premise of the film is fairly straight-forward: Ted is denied citizenship because a technicality emerges after his marriage with Tami-Lynn (Jessica Barth), the bombshell cashier with whom he works. Ted and Tami-Lynn decide that, when their marriage begins to crumble, that they must do what all married couples do: have a baby. The problem is, Ted is a teddy bear and therefore doesn't have the reproductive parts to make that happen. When they cannot find a sperm donor (after numerous comedic attempts at making that happen, most notably with a certain Boston sports icon), they decide to adopt. This triggers the aforementioned legal battle that Ted must face. Knowing that they face an uphill battle, they get advice from Seyfried's Sam L. Jackson, whose name proves great fodder for the two leads. Nonetheless, their legal battle in court is joined by the opposition backed by super-attorney Shep Wild (John Slattery), who has never lost a court case. He's also backed by Hasbro and the ever-insistent Donny (Giovanni Ribisi), who wants a Ted for his own. If Ted is proven to be property and not a person, then they can tear him open and see what makes him come to life.

If the story sounds like it's comparing Ted's plight to the horrors of slavery and modern-day civil rights battle for equal rights, it does just that. MacFarlane's biggest weakness here is that he makes his underlying message all too obvious, with Ted repeating the notion in the courtroom (albeit in his own offensive way) and an African-American cashier calling Ted out on his comparisons to slavery. Outside of those few poorly written moments, Ted 2 is an absolute roar. MacFarlane knows how to visually stage scenes and use sight gags to great effect; it's high praise, but at his best he reminds me of a perverted, stoned Mel Brooks. Most of the film's funniest moments come from non-sequiturs that don't drive the story forward but prove perfectly fit for the characters (most notably the concept of screaming "sad things at an improv troupe," in a scene that remains horribly hilarious). That's the most surprising thing about the film that works considering it's usually a critique of MacFarlane's style. The co-writer/director understands his characters and has practically every joke stem from their personas. That's rewarding as a viewer.

The film's pace lulls in the middle but the jokes never really stop, a testament to MacFarlane learning from his misfire in 2013, A Million Ways to Die in the West. His actors also appear equally game, with Amanda Seyfried particularly standing out as a self-deprecating woman who actually feels like her own character next to the main couple's stoner bromance. Wahlberg has a few great moments as well, most notably when he gets too high in Samantha's office and needs guidance home. The film, without spoilers, also has the best use of the Jurassic Park theme outside of said film that you could possibly imagine. Music has always been a focal point of MacFarlane's storytelling, as Family Guy and American Dad would often employ musical numbers in every episode. Here, he has a wonderfully old-fashioned opening credits sequence and Amanda Seyfried singing a campfire melody in the middle of the film. They don't detract but merely show MacFarlane's wacky sense of paying homage to storytellers of yesteryear. Ted 2 ultimately proves more coherent than its original film and also more funny and particular, making it a worthy sequel during these summer months.

Me and Earl and the Dying Girl - Movie Review by Monte Yazzie

Me and Earl and The Dying Girl  

Director: Alfonso Gomez-Rejon

Starring: Thomas Mann, RJ Cyler, Olivia Cooke, Nick Offerman, Connie Britton, Molly Shannon, and Jon Bernthal

105 Minutes

Fox Searchlight

A life raised on movies can only prepare you for so much. I’m sure my parents in some way, shape, or form proposed this comment to me along my journey through adolescence. Experience is a large component in preparation, but the funny thing about experience is that you often fall or fail through it before becoming aware of how to properly use it.  Alfonso Gomez-Rejon’s film “Me and Earl and The Dying Girl”, based on the young adult novel by Jesse Andrews who also adapted the screenplay, thrusts a teenage movie loving boy named Greg (Thomas Mann) into a situation where experience holds no power of change or understanding. Gomez-Rejon takes what could have easily been a self-indulgent measure of excessive melodramatic movements and turns “Me and Earl and The Dying Girl” into a heartfelt coming-of-age story and sincere portrayal of life and death.

Greg is a sarcastic senior in high school who loves to make home videos of classic films with his best friend, or as Greg describes him “business partner”, Earl (RJ Cyler). Greg blends through high school, taking little part and little interest in every group in school in order to remain invisible and unidentifiable to the cultural trappings of adolescent labeling. But Greg’s mom (Connie Britton) finds out devastating news concerning a classmate named Rachel (Olivia Cooke).  She has cancer. Greg’s mom, feeling obliged to help in some way, forces Greg to start spending time with Rachel.

“Me and Earl and The Dying Girl” has all the trappings that often derail films of this type. A dying girl, quirky characters, numerous melodramatic undertones, it all points initially at a film that will move and operate the same way every other film like it has before. However, it doesn’t and this is largely attributed to the keen direction of Gomez-Rejon who crafts the film with grounded sincerity. The narrative is slowly paced, taking time to relax with the characters in their elements and establish a basis of relationship, whether watching Greg and Earl eat lunch silently while watching the documentary “Burden of Dreams” about Werner Herzog’s film “Fitzcarraldo” or the intimately awkward moments in Olivia’s bedroom with Greg stretching for material to talk about.  This all works in moving the characters toward the issues they are avoiding. Death is the obvious concern, but it’s also themes of inspiration, failure, and acceptance. Again, these narrative topics are handled with care and utilized in almost a secondary way because the characters are so well composed.

The cast is simply wonderful.  The three main cast members of Mann, Cooke, and Cyler each portray their respective characters with an honest and straightforward quality. Cooke is especially great; her transition through the progression of her disease is candid and confident. The supporting cast also serves an important purpose. Greg’s dad (Nick Offerman) offers support both needless and necessary while also playing comedic relief. Greg’s favorite teacher Mr. McCarthy (Jon Bernthal) also chimes in with the familiar insightful teacher rhetoric that would feel completely pointless if it didn’t come to realization at the precise, pertinent moment.

For the film buff, you will smile at the homage to the Criterion Collection and laugh loudly at the lovingly rendered adaptations of art-house properties by Greg and Earl. The aspect of film serves an important layer in the narrative, one the displays the quality that film has as a medium of distraction and insight. “Me and Earl and The Dying Girl” is an emotional experience, though it’s never devastating or heartbreaking. Instead this film is filled with heart and passion, a film that is well worth the experience.

Monte’s Rating

4.50 out of 5.00

Me and Earl and the Dying Girl - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Me and Earl and the Dying Girl  

Starring Thomas Mann, Olivia Cooke, RJ Cyler, Nick Offerman, Connie Britton, and Molly Shannon

Directed by Alfonso Gomez-Rejon

Rated PG-13

Run Time: 105 minutes

Genre: Drama

Opens June 19th

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Me and Earl and the Dying Girl is that special breed of teenage film that strikes an emotional cord with every fundamental age group. It's a film marked by deeply rooted compassion from writer Jesse Andrews and director Alfonso Gomez-Rejon, both making their emphatic debuts on screen. The film was widely touted at this year's Sundance Film Festival where it won both the Audience Award and Grand Jury Prize, a rare sweep that demonstrates both its technical and emotional craft in full force. Watching it, there was a sinking feeling that these filmmakers were telling a story far deeper than the surface; when the final act hits, it's a tour-de-force that encapsulates the visual splendor that Gomez-Rejon has employed and the narrative heft that Andrews has slyly delivered. The Perks of Being a Wallflower comes to mind as a strong comparison, another high school story that elevates itself with social cognizance and heartfelt characters. Here's a similarly resonant narrative that tackles cancer with gentility and subtle impact.

The story focuses on Greg (Thomas Mann), a high school student that has strategically planned his social life so that he doesn't belong to any group of kids. Rather, he has select friends and is amicable with almost everyone, even if he doesn't really want to know them. He makes films in his spare time with his buddy Earl (RJ Cyler), most of which involve them spoofing classics by paying homage through sheer stupidity. They're talented filmmakers that spent most of their childhood learning from Greg's father (Nick Offerman), who helped inform them about the social and political nature of filmmaking and the messages it could send. What a smart man. Nonetheless, Greg's mother (Connie Britton) pressures him into befriending a girl with whom he is familiar but does not know: Rachel (Olivia Cooke), who has recently been diagnosed with cancer. Rachel's mother, Denise (Molly Shannon), wants her to socialize with her colleagues while she figures out what will be happening in her daughter's future, while Rachel will have none of that. An unlikely bond forms, though, between Rachel and Greg, leading to the forced friendship developing into a true connection that grows stronger as she grows weaker.

Director Alfonso Gomez-Rejon's film is marked by visual intelligence and power. Take, for instance, the first scene between Greg and Rachel, as he stands at the bottom of her staircase and she looms up at the top. They couldn't be farther apart emotionally, and the scene speaks that perfectly. Another great scene has Rachel in the foreground and Greg in the background, as he pleas with her about a particular issue and he cannot see her face. The tears that form in her eyes are shrouded from him, but not from us. These are a few of the many moments that elevate Me and Earl and the Dying Girl past its conventional indie dramedy nature. The emotional weight given to Rachel's struggle with cancer never strikes a false note, instead opting for a portrayal of a girl that has her own personal and social quirks. She also happens to be a character that has cancer; it doesn't define her. Cooke portrays Rachel with a stern yet tactful nature, showing us a talent that was evident but never really announced in indie disappointments like The Quiet Ones and The Signal. She's the anchor of the film as its final moments demonstrate.

The conceit that carries Dying Girl is Greg's narration, which both singularizes the perspective of the film and elevates the questionable nature of his comments. Mann plays Greg impressively, allowing him to form into a strong man that certainly makes the wrong decision a few times. He's not the most likable character yet we identify with him and his clear emotional struggle and lashing out. That's a fine line to walk, but it works. RJ Cyler, in his debut, gives Earl bouts of humor that fit into the scheme of the film; he can be funny but fragile, and understands the emotional punch behind the film. He doesn't undersell the humor or oversell the drama. The script is written by Jesse Andrews from his own novel; once again, the connection to Stephen Chobsky's Perks of Being a Wallflower carries through as he wrote his own film adaptation too. His work is appropriately balanced for a first-time screenwriter, allowing the narrative to speak equally through Gomez-Rejon's visuals and symbolism as well as his own astute dialogue. The silence in the final half hour of the film is a genius touch as well. Me and Earl and the Dying Girl is a funny drama and touching comedy, walking a tightrope between the two without ever falling down.

Me and Earl and the Dying Girl interview by Eric Forthun

Me and Earl and the Dying Girl premiered in January at the 2015 Sundance Film Festival to universal acclaim. It's one of the rare films that has won both the Grand Jury Prize and Audience Award, a true testament to its reach across all audiences. It also featured as the Saturday Night Event at the Phoenix Film Festival this past April. I had the opportunity last month to sit down with director Alfonso Gomez-Rejon and stars Thomas Mann, RJ Cyler, and Olivia Cooke to talk about their terrific feature. As the title suggests, the film tells the story of a "dying girl" named Rachel who battles cancer in a high school setting. Since the film is told through the eyes of another high school student, Greg, the story can sometimes feel a little unreliable emotionally. Gomez-Rejon noted, "Having an unreliable narrator is very natural to a seventeen year-old telling us a story of what he has gone through. He'll find his own way into the story and if he deceives you, it's not a way of being sadistic, but rather the way for both the audience and him to get into the narrative."This sense of tackling teenage life also moves into the dialogue, which doesn't side step the main issues and feels authentic to teenage culture. "This movie is so unique in its voice because romance wasn't the driving force. It was something deeper and more complex than that, with gray areas and specificity that made it both disjointed and simple," Mann describes. Cooke put it simply: "It's just the way teenagers speak. How humans speak."

Artistry and expression are particular themes that carry significance for all three main characters, particularly Earl. Cyler, who has extensive experience as a musician, noted that music has been his coping mechanism. "Mostly I use music as my outlet for my emotions, both DJing and with the drums," he said, getting laughter from everyone when saying he just imagines the face of his brother on the drum set when he needs to let things out.

One of the major forms of expression in the film are the micro-budget films that Earl and Greg make together, mostly acting as parodies of famous arthouse efforts that Greg's dad has shown them over the years. Mann has personal experience from high school, noting that "we made parodies of films like The Matrix and Saw, but ours was called Spoon instead. The pure joy of discovering your tastes in things when you're that age is thrilling." Cooke said Rachel had the same things with "scissors and her dad's books," a component that grows stronger over the second half of the film.

Film obviously plays a vital role, as Gomez-Rejon demonstrates. His direction is heavily influenced by his own experiences growing up and learning the craft while having others appreciate the art. "Films were my calling," he said. "I understand Greg and Earl making their films and, even when Greg gives Rachel a film that they made, it means a lot. He wasn't planning to but she breaks down and it happens, and it's a turning point." Mann said that they shot most of those small films in one day on a guerrilla-style adventure.

The thing that shines most in the film, though, is its sincerity. "I saw the honesty of the characters, and that kept me going," Mann said. When considering Greg especially, that becomes apparent. Cooke says, "You're not being forced to like these characters...Greg is the most selfish teenager you could meet but you can connect to him. This awful thing is happening to this girl and all he can think about it is how it is affecting him. That's terrible, yet we can all connect to that."

Despite the film being a low-budget entry by most Hollywood standards, it doesn't particularly feel like one. Gomez-Rejon explains, "We weren't conscious of the budget, and we didn't want to make it look small-budget. With those constraints, a lot of creative solutions can come out of them. You don't want to rush the movie. The worst thing to do, in my eyes, is to rush actors." Cooke commented that, after indies like The Signal and The Quiet Ones, this was "one of the biggest budget movies I've ever worked on."

Yet that low budget created some incredibly authentic elements. "[The screenwriter and novelist] Jesse's actual childhood home was Greg's house, and his bedroom was Greg's in the story, so it gave the film a lived-in quality," Mann explained. Same with the films within the films, as Gomez-Rejon ensured, since they could not be too well-produced or else they would be unrealistic."

The film's personality does not just come from its humor or lived-in nature, but also its grave tackle of cancer. Personal experiences run rampant with the cast: Cyler's grandmother and her husband passed, Mann's four grandparents died of cancer at a young age for him, and Cooke met with a young girl at a children's hospital who had undergone chemotherapy and a bone marrow transplant. "It's hard to meet someone like her and not feel like the biggest phony ever," Cooke said.

Gomez-Rejon has experience with stories handling cancer since he shot the broadcast pilot for Red Band Society, a Fox series that premiered last fall. He wanted the film to follow the stages of cancer, but also handle an issue that most were unfamiliar with: "The colored wigs used were important because it's such a dramatic change for teenage girls, and important for girls battling cancer, as the doctors told us. Artists like Katy Perry and Nicki Minaj using those wigs nowadays as a statement of power and individuality is helping and the details feel honest in the narrative." That's surprising considering the attention paid to those celebrities, but he makes a point that rings true for many girls who lose their hair during chemotherapy.

The highlight of the film for everyone involved? "Anything with Molly Shannon," Mann says. "She was a therapist. You went anywhere and she was a step ahead, ready to play," Cooke proclaimed. Cyler's favorite moment with her was "a night time scene with [her] where Thomas started beatboxing and I started singing really weird songs. It was a bonding moment between three very weird people."

As for the reaction at Sundance, none of them expected the acclaim that they got, even if they felt they were making something unique. Cooke said: "This script was the most special script I ever read. After shooting, I felt that we had something really amazing. I'm naturally pessimistic to protect myself, but I couldn't help to feel it." Cyler put it succinctly: "This was my first time hearing about Sundance and knowing what it was. This film was also my first so it's like a first child: you don't know what's going to come out of it. So we said, 'let's try not to make it a bum.' And he turned into a nice engineer."

Me and Earl and the Dying Girl is one of the year's best films.

It opens in Phoenix on June 19th.

Inside Out - Movie Review by Monte Yazzie

Inside Out  

Director: Pete Doctor and Ronaldo Del Carmen

Starring: Amy Poehler, Phyllis Smith, Bill Hader, Lewis Black, Mindy Kaling, Kaitlyn Dias, Diane Lane, Kyle Maclachlan, and Richard Kind

Disney/Pixar

102 Minutes

My kid was recently sitting on the ground with his head down fighting a nap. I asked him what was wrong and he responded simply with “I don’t know why I am sad”. Emotions are a constant in Pixar films. Look no further than their impressive catalog of films to display this quality, the first ten minutes of “Up” is a perfect example. What separates Pixar from some competition is the way they utilize these emotions to assist in the development of the script and characters. “Inside Out” tackles the topic of emotions taking place literally inside the head of a little girl. While Pixar may have stumbled slightly with their last few films, “Inside Out” is a return to impressive form. Director Pete Doctor and Ronaldo Del Carmen bring a unique storytelling quality to this animated film, one that moves in and out of one character’s mind, and the result is a film that is smart, poignant, and thought provoking.

Riley (voiced by Kaitlyn Dias) is a young girl who loves playing hockey and being silly with her mom and dad. She is living a happy life in the Midwest until her father starts a new job in San Francisco, uprooting Riley from the familiar and comforting routine she has come to enjoy. This is a difficult move for Riley but also for the emotions that guide her daily life. Joy (Amy Poehler), Sadness (Phyllis Smith), Anger (Lewis Black), Disgust (Mindy Kaling), and Fear (Bill Hader) are the emotions that live in the control headquarters of Riley’s mind. Joy is the leader of the group, guiding Riley towards positive memories and outlooks. However conflict erupts during the move between Joy and Sadness, leading them away from headquarters and leaving Riley stuck with Anger, Disgust, and Fear in control.

Animated films offer a medium of storytelling that, in some regards, offers greater freedom to tackle subjects complex or difficult to execute. “Inside Out” is unique in the regard that it portrays the literal emotions of the mind with characters. Director Pete Doctor and Ronaldo Del Carmen accomplish this storytelling aspect gracefully, allowing the oldest and youngest viewer easy navigation throughout. The narrative also offers some effective metaphors of life and learning, ones that are nicely accomplished through the characters of Joy and Sadness, both of whom do not understand the importance of one another.

The animation is exceptional. Just like the compositions of Pixar’s previous works, “Inside Out” crafts an atmosphere that is distinctive. Whether the formation of the world that Riley sees, a wintry, bright Minnesota when she his happy or a dreary, overcast San Francisco when she is sad, or the world of the emotions that is formed with orbs of color that reflect Riley’s memories with formed islands that distinguish the important aspects of her personality. It all serves an important purpose when it comes to displaying how the mind functions on the rollercoaster of life’s emotional events.

The characters are represented flawlessly, especially the emotions that are a mix of talented comedy actors. Amy Poehler is terrific as Joy, a mile a minute vehicle of glittery yellow with unwavering happiness. Her counter is Phyllis Smith as Sadness, most will know her tone from television’s “The Office”, who’s demoralized voice reflects the gloom and worry of the small blue character she portrays. The remaining cast of Bill Hader, Mindy Kaling, and Lewis Black play nicely off one another once they are forced to start working together.

There is much more to “Inside Out” than described here, but to share too much would be to spoil the surprise. Whether a commentary for parent discussion or an explanation for children, the film doesn’t shy away from the challenging emotions experienced in childhood or surprisingly how it continues in different ways throughout adulthood. “Inside Out” is an accomplished narrative that is supported by talented actors and lead by an insightful creative team, it’s an ambitious animated film for all ages.

Monte’s Rating

4.50 out of 5.00

Inside Out - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Inside Out  

Starring the voices of Amy Poehler, Bill Hader, Phyllis Smith, Mindy Kaling, Lewis Black, and Diane Lane

Directed by Pete Docter

Rated PG

Run Time: 102 minutes

Genre: Animation/Comedy

Opens June 19th

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Exploring the mind of an 11-year old girl through animation sounds admittedly thin on premise and flimsy in its potential execution. Sure enough, Pixar's 15th film is perhaps their most brilliant creation to date, thanks in large part to director Pete Docter's personal touch in his exploration of his daughter's loss of childhood wonder as she traveled through puberty. Told in the mind of its protagonist, Riley, the film focuses on her five key emotions: Joy (voiced by Amy Poehler), Sadness (The Office's Phyllis Smith), Fear (Bill Hader), Anger (Lewis Black), and Disgust (Mindy Kaling). The idea is a sheer work of genius, which cannot be stated enough, and its execution is flawless and brilliantly rendered as it always connects the audience to the emotional power of the story. It's also a universally appealing narrative, telling of mood swings and deeply rooted in psychology that probably allows parents and adults to connect far more than children. Regardless, one thing is certain: it's another Pixar masterpiece that reaffirms the company's relentlessly brilliant minds never left.

The story centers on Riley (voiced by Kaitlyn Dias), a young hockey-loving girl that gets uprooted from her Midwest life in Minnesota to move to San Francisco for her father's new job. While that is the foundation of the story, and shows the real-life actions that her emotions create, the majority of the film takes place inside Riley's mind. The five emotions inhabit Headquarters, which stores Riley's core memories that create her personality while also sending off memories at the end of the day to the long-term bank. Joy always seems to be at ends with Sadness regarding the best course of action for Riley, particularly as Sadness turns a core memory into a sad thought for Riley. All of Riley's core memories were joyous, as they should be for a child, but this acts as a catalyst for Riley's mental instability as she enters a new school, loses her main friends, and loses a grip on her new life. In a devastating argument, Joy and Sadness get moved out of Headquarters, leaving Fear, Anger, and Disgust to run the show. This spurs a movement in Riley's mind that forces her to reconsider what she enjoys and who she ultimately is.

Inside Out is often more funny than most of Pixar's entries, moving at a rapid-fire pace as one would expect considering its setting is an 11-year old's head. The voice casting is fundamentally great all-around, with Poehler taking a brunt of the work and making Joy both vocally energetic and emotionally subtle when needed. She's always been a talented comedian, but her voice work is impressive. The biggest surprise is Smith, who was known for playing a supporting role on NBC's The Office, but here she's arguably the most important role of all: Sadness. While that sounds like a depressing character (well, duh), it's actually the fundamental truth lying within Riley's head. Accepting sadness and melancholic emotions as a part of life become the groundwork for adult emotion as it often carries over everyday moments, but it can also be a strength when grasped and understood by one's self. That's an inherently adult concept within a children's film, which may explain why a lot of scenes were surprisingly quiet in the theater. Kids were probably gripped by the visual splendor of the film but also a little arrested by the heavy moments in the final half hour.

For adults, that final act is an absolute shower of emotions. It washes over and pretty much drowns the audience in its truths. Perhaps the most important component of the film is that the emotions and other characters within Riley's mind, including the lovable imaginary friend Bing Bong (Richard Kind), are all given personalities beyond their traditionally associated traits. Sadness is far more than doom and gloom, Joy is bigger than her simple and unwavering optimism, and Fear does more than just calculate the social anxieties and dangers that Riley may face. The story and screenplay are attributed to five different people, and this is the rare case where it feels like all of their voices have coalesced into a singular vision. The maturation of a child into a young adult on screen is unparalleled for an animated film, and Pixar's most humanly grounded story to date. It's also one of their funniest and most exciting films, and features one of Disney's simplest short films preceding the feature in Lava. Overall, the experience of seeing Inside Out speaks emphatically to the emotions of childhood and the growth of the human psyche over time. What an extraordinary piece of filmmaking.

Dope - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Dope  

Starring Shameik Moore, Tony Revolori, Zoe Kravitz, Blake Anderson, Keith Stanfield, and Kiersey Clemons

Directed by Rick Famuyiwa

Rated R

Run Time: 115 minutes

Genre: Comedy/Drama

Opens June 19th

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Dope is the best film I caught at the 2015 Sundance Film Festival. Director-writer Rick Famuyiwa debuts a startlingly biting, hilarious, and altogether riveting work about minority teenagers in Inglewood, California. It defies convention and aggressively sticks up a middle finger to those that typecast or stereotype. Instead, it embraces diversity and asserts that pigeon-holing is an idiotic, archaic, and dull measure used by the weak. The film features a breakthrough lead performance from Shameik Moore, who plays Malcolm, a genius that wants to apply to Harvard despite everyone telling him he doesn’t stand a chance. He’s an ambitious boy that wants to become his own man, but in his neighborhood that usually means aligning with a gang or starting to deal drugs. He doesn’t want to do either. Instead, he just wants to do nerdy things with his friends, Diggy (Kiersey Clemons) and Jib (Tony Revolori). The former is a tomboy lesbian that often gets mistaken for a guy while the latter prides himself on being 14% black, a hilariously specific statistic that he uses for strange forms of justification.

The three students become embroiled in a drug deal gone bad at a dealer’s birthday party, ultimately falling into more than they can handle as the dealer gets taken to jail and Malcolm cannot escape trouble. The resulting film is a teen drug caper that feels like a thematic mixture of ’90s hood films, the technologically savvy modern culture (the film features the most effective use of Bitcoins in narrative to date), and situational comedies of the 1980s. It’s an eclectic throwback to old-fashioned storytelling with the desire to demand a continued conversation about race in a culture that has clearly not advanced as much as expected. Famuyiwa’s film is intelligent and beautiful, a comedic mishmash of various gags that all work tremendously in the lampoonish landscape that Malcolm and Co. navigate. Factor in a romantic pursuit of Nakia (Zoë Kravitz), who stands as a woman discontent with her current state and wants to pursue more education and find a better life, and the film is its own powerful breed.

Dope ultimately cares deeply and passionately about its characters and insists that race plays a prevalent part in how people see you, their expectations of you, and some people’s inherent inability to see past prejudice. A monologue near the end of the film heavily alludes to Trayvon Martin, and it’s the film’s most dynamic, pitch-perfect scene. Dope miraculously navigates serious racial themes, a love story, and comedy with the vivacity of a confident director in his prime. That’s why it comes as such a surprise that Famuyiwa is a young director with endless potential, a man that understands the necessary craft behind a character-driven story with diversity not just in race but also sexuality. Diggy and Jib, and the actors that play them (Clemons is phenomenally funny and Revolori expands upon his acting ability he established with The Grand Budapest Hotel), are outrageous characters that work alongside the likes of Workaholics‘ Blake Anderson and Short Term 12 breakout Keith Stanfield. Dope is an absolute blast of a film, an enormous, overwhelmingly great feature.

The Farewell Party - Movie Review by Michael Clawson

The Farewell Party  

Starring: Ze'ev Revach, Aliza Rosen, Levana Finkelstein, Ilan Dar

Directors: Tal Granit, Sharon Maymon

Release Date: June 12, 2015

by Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

There is dignity in death and The Farewell Party searches for it in humorous bursts of empathy.

It begins with an elderly tinkerer ringing up an older woman. “This is God,” he says, and the woman, senile and confused, believes him. “You are certainly going to heaven, but we have no vacancies, so you must get your treatment.” The woman nods.

At this point you realize you’re in for for something very unique, and likely heartbreaking.

The tinkerer is Yehezkel (Ze’ev Recach) and he is watching his best friend suffer in pain in a care facility. His prognosis is terminal. Morphine no longer works, and he’s developing bedsores that are increasingly painful. His wife, at the end of her rope, suggests they end his agony and the gears in Yehezkel’s head begin spinning.

What happens next is a devastating examination of mercy as Yehezkel and his band of helpers plan, build and implement a euthanasia machine. The device is crude -- it is driven by a small motor and a bicycle chain, and uses drugs intended for animals -- but it is effective at ending the suffering of Yehezkel’s “patients,” who seek him out at great risk for themselves and their loved ones.

The Farewell Party handles all this in a serious way, but you can’t help but smile at its subtle brand of bleak comedy, from the gay man literally trapped in the closet and an overzealous traffic cop repeatedly talked out of writing tickets, to a touching scene with much of the elderly cast nude and high in a greenhouse to cheer up a friend with dementia. The gallows humor manages to give brief reprieves between each heartbreaking death.

The Israeli film, directed by Tal Granit and Sharon Maymon, is beautifully staged and photographed. The camera almost never moves, preferring instead static shots that give the scenes and their terrifying implications reverence. When it does move, in a lovely musical number and later in a tragic moment of realization for Yehezkel, it does so to punctuate the delicate nature of life and death.

It ends precisely where you want it to, but it stings even as it rings true. This is a beautiful film, one that gazes long and hard into the soul of the dying, and those who look over them.

Jurassic World - Movie Review by Michael Clawson

Jurassic World  

Starring Chris Pratt, Bryce Dallas Howard, Vincent D’Onofrio, Omar Sy, Judy Greer, and Nick Robinson

Directed by Colin Trevorrow

Rated PG-13

Run Time: 124 minutes

Genre: Action-Adventure/Sci-Fi

Opens June 12th

by Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

Jurassic World desperately craves 1993, when CGI was in its infancy, the internet was not in wide use, and when dinosaurs could inspire awe and wonder from all who gazed upon them. Just picture the film as a Scooby Doo villain, an old crotchety man shaking his fist: “If it weren’t for those meddling kids and their Tweeter and their Facepages, then this park would be the greatest park ever.”

I’m not one to miss the 1990s, but Jurassic World makes me yearn for those halcyon years, before we became cynical and jaded, before we started turning our back on the Mona Lisa to take selfies with selfie sticks, before we started thumbing our nose at the marvelous. That’s the attitude of Jurassic World, in which a theme park with living, breathing, chomping dinosaurs is struggling to pay its bills because “no one is impressed by dinosaurs anymore.” Times are so tough that they have bio-engineer the Indominus Rex, whose DNA is a chunky stew of other creatures’ chromosomes. Kids these days, the film laments, they just want their phones, their Snapchat, and a hoodie to retreat into. One character has to be reminded to put his smartphone down to see a Titanic-sized sea monster gobble a great white the way we crunch on goldfish crackers.

This is Jurassic World’s most fundamental failure: it wants us to believe that a theme park with dinosaurs would get old. Lions, tigers and elephants have existed longer than man has, yet we still line up to gaze at them at zoos, so what makes Jurassic World thinks we’d be bored with cloned dinosaurs? It’s an idiotic concept that produces no fruit, just leafless limbs that end in broken stumps, and it’s a premise that the entirety of the film is grown around. More on that later.

Jurassic World has many failings, but it is, first and foremost, a rip-roaring dino-adventure. If you watched the first three films and thought “not enough dinosaurs” then this fourth entry in the franchise has you covered in every combination imaginable: I-Rex on raptor, mosasaurus on I-Rex, pterodactyl on human, human on raptor, T-Rex on human, T-Rex on I-Rex … so many variations that it sounds like an erotic personals section in a paleolithic newspaper. The scenes are long and action-packed, and they give heroic treatment to dinosaurs that were only glimpsed at in previous films. The velociraptors, so often the villains in the other pictures, are essentially good-guy sidekicks here. Think of them as trained orcas at SeaWorld, another disaster park with deadly man-eating attractions.

The raptors are trained by Owen (Chris Pratt), who was with them when they hatched and who now oversees their development as park stars. They may know tricks, but they’re still deadly predators as we see in an early scene involving a rookie taking a spill into their pen. (My question here is why didn’t Owen use the raptor flute from the third movie, but then I remembered that even a raptor flute is too ridiculous for this movie.) Owen has to fight back a corporate stooge who wants to militarize the raptors into some kind of living battle-drones. I wish I could tell you this character was played by Paul Reiser from Aliens, but I cannot — he is played by Vincent D’Onofrio who actually has the line, “These things would have been great in Tora Bora.” At the conclusion of this line the sound of 400 collective eye-rolls was loud enough to fill the theater in 3D sound.

Owen flirts occasionally with park director Claire (Bryce Dallas Howard), who is busy negotiating deals around the park, including a Verizon Wireless sponsorship —”what’s next, the Pepsisaurus?” a computer tech asks. (Yes, says Pepsi.) Clair is hosting her nephews, Zach and Gray, who are taking some time for themselves so their parents can divorce, because what you want in a dinosaur movie is lots and lots of family drama.

As Zach and Gray set off into Jurassic World the film wonderfully establishes the setting as a working theme park, something way beyond what even Jurassic founder John Hammond could have hoped to achieve. There are canoe trips down brontosaurus-lined rivers, herbivore tours inside glass gyro-bubbles, an aviary with winged creatures, and many opportunities to watch carnivores gobble up their lunches in bloody clouds of pink mist. The mosasaurus exhibit is especially nifty: the bleachers begin at the topside at the lagoon with live feedings, and then they lower behind glass walls to get submerged views of the croc-like monster. An absolutely adorable petting zoo with pudgy little leaf eaters makes an appearance as well, and it is cuteness overload.

People look like they’re having a lot of fun, but the evil “board” doesn’t like sagging numbers, so they greenlight the I-Rex, which is smarter than any character in the film and has heat-vision like the Predator. And this is where Jurassic World loses its damned mind. The dinosaur itself is awesome, but its existence, its origins, its supernatural powers … it’s all a bit much. Of course it escapes, of course it goes on a killing rampage, and of course every human character suddenly decides it’s time to make the worst decisions of their lives. I want smarter characters in a movie about the genius of mankind. Instead I get Claire, who would rather watch dinosaurs regurgitate half-chewed guests then evacuate the park; Owen, who carries a John Wayne-style lever-action rifle when everyone else carries machine guns; the military guy who apparently has a contract from Weyland-Yutani; and the Jurassic’s CEO, who fatefully admits in his first scene that he’s got two more days of flying to get his helicopter pilot's license. Yep, that helicopter is totally crashing.

The characters in the original Jurassic Park were guilty of hubris and for “playing God,” but they were generally smart people taken down by a computer hacker with selfish motives. In Jurassic World, though, the gruesome deaths — including one entirely unnecessary devouring of Zach and Grey’s wedding-planning babysitter — are entirely linked to the complete and utter stupidity of the plot, its characters and director Colin Trevorrow, who jams so much garbage into his film that you have to wonder if he really wanted to make a movie about dinosaurs at all.

The biggest failure, though, is that Jurassic World truly believes that dinosaurs alone aren’t enough, which is why it throws in a romance, family drama, battle-raptors, sulking teens, obsessive marketing mavens and that hulking bio-fabricated dinosaur. “We have to up the wow factor,” one characters says.

“They’re dinosaurs — they’re wow enough,” responds Owens. Amen to that.

Jurassic World - Movie Review by Monte Yazzie

Jurassic World  

Diectorr: Colin Trevorrow

Starring: Bryce Dallas Howard, Chris Pratt, Nick Robinson, Ty Simpkins, B.D. Wong, Vincent D’Onofrio, Omar Sy, and Irrfan Khan

123 Min

Universal Pictures

Cue the music, open the gates, light the torches…the park is open and the dinosaurs are back. It’s been more than twenty years since Steven Spielberg’s “Jurassic Park” roared into theaters in 1993, bringing a blend of practical and computer-generated special effects that changed the landscape of what was possible with visual storytelling. The prehistoric came to life, spawning two sequels and now Colin Trevorrow’s “Jurassic World”. The vision of Jurassic Park from the first film has come to operational life in a corporate driven amusement park bent on bigger and badder dinosaurs. And the results are as expected, “Jurassic World” amps up the dinosaur action with exciting sequences making it feel like a thrill ride while also paying homage to the original film with clever nods and telling humor. However, the action adventure aspect is just half the ride, albeit the half most fans will be coming for. The second half, where narrative and character development exists, is where “Jurassic World” barely meets the height requirement.

John Hammond (the late Richard Attenborough) envisioned Jurassic Park as an amusement park, though things didn’t end up so well. Fast forward twenty years and Jurassic World has been operational for a few years, shipping in visitors on boats and running a theme park with shows and interactive rides. Zach (Nick Robinson) and Gray (Ty Simpkins) are on their way to visit their Aunt Claire (Bryce Dallas Howard), who is the uptight and organized manager of the park. With corporate sponsors wanting new attractions the executives of the park decide to genetically build new dinosaurs; one specifically meant to be the mightiest attraction is called Indominus Rex. Things go terribly amiss leading Claire and former Navy man Owen (Chris Pratt), who is training velociraptors, on the hunt for the new deadly dinosaur.

“No one is impressed by dinosaurs anymore”. This comment from Bryce Dallas Howard’s character is all too telling. While Stan Winston’s practical creations for “Jurassic Park” still hold strong, movies are creating all forms of goliath computer generated monsters now, making the sights seen in 1993 a commonplace. So it’s not surprising that “Jurassic World” feels more like a monster movie than any of the films before. Indominus Rex is a monster built by man that stalks and hunts, killing anything that gets in the way and progressively moving towards a population of people. The CGI dinosaur designs are impressive, Indominus Rex is intimidating, the velociraptors are still shrewd, and a new water creature steals an early scene by jumping out of the water and eating a great white shark. These are just a few of the many new species on display.

Colin Trevorrow, who last directed the amusing science fiction comedy “Safety Not Guaranteed”, understands what this film is meant to offer, which is a visual feast of dinosaur action. On that account he succeeds with flying colors. However, there is also a narrative and human characters that need attention too. It’s a shame that two great actors like Bryce Dallas Howard and Chris Pratt are saddled with weak dialogue in a relationship scenario that is easily expected. Chris Pratt plays the role of trainer fairly straightforward without the comedy that is usually attributed to his characters, for much of the time it works. Bryce Dallas Howard is also good, her character is initially unfeeling and all business however changes once her nephews are placed in danger. The narrative starts promising, structuring the past events into connection with the present while also displaying how the science of past has been innovated to create for the future. There are other elements that, regardless of how awesome they may seem, fall apart once implemented. The side story with velociraptors being trained for military operations feels like an idea doomed from the beginning, though it serves as easy exposition to move the film from one place to another. Still, velociraptors running alongside a motorcycle is pure summer movie excitement.

“Jurassic World” will be watched and rewatched all summer long, it’s the kind of film that will draw in new audiences and satisfy the prehistoric sensations of fans. While it may not live up to all the lofty expectations, it never disappoints in providing the viewer with dinosaur indulgence.

Monte’s Rating

3.00 out of 5.00

Jurassic World - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Jurassic World  

Starring Chris Pratt, Bryce Dallas Howard, Vincent D'Onofrio, Omar Sy, Judy Greer, and Nick Robinson

Directed by Colin Trevorrow

Rated PG-13

Run Time: 124 minutes

Genre: Action-Adventure/Sci-Fi

Opens June 12th

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Jurassic Park was an exhilarating adventure from start to finish, driven by strong characters, a Spielbergian family core, and thematic resonance that lingered in practically every frame. Its two follow-ups, particularly the third installment, never regained the sense of wonder and spectacle that the first one's outstanding visual effects accomplished. That's primarily due to their belief that story came second and visuals triumphed emotion. Jurassic World follows that same mantra, albeit with a more self-aware touch and a modern relevance that feels shockingly advanced for a summer blockbuster. Riffs on product placement and meta commentary regarding the need to be "bigger" and "cooler" every few years in order to keep the public's attention occur in the first half hour to snickering satisfaction. It's unfortunate, then, that the film falls into those exact traps, brandishing Mercedes-Benz and Starbuck's cups like they're going out of style and including every familiar plot point from the first film but with more misogynistic characters. The result is an occasionally exciting, mostly mediocre effort that strives for social commentary but falls into overblown, mildly engaging fare.

The story opens on Isla Nublar, the home of the original Jurassic Park that has now been developed into Jurassic World. It's a theme park that feels like a mix of Disneyland and SeaWorld, even with the modern touch of animal cruelty through painful, lonely captivity (Blackfish slam!). The person in charge of running the park is Claire (Bryce Dallas Howard), a conventional career-driven woman that puts everything before family. She knows that her nephews, Gray (Ty Simpkins) and Zach (Nick Robinson), are coming to visit the park under her supervision per her sister's (Judy Greer) instructions, but she doesn't even supervise. She instead delegates that to her British assistant. Claire is under pressure from investors and merchandisers to deliver a new attraction in order to stimulate public interest; a dinosaur doesn't wow everyone anymore. They want something newer, bigger...scarier. If this sounds like sly commentary, it actually is. But when Claire seems to lose control of her new species, she calls upon one-time fling and raptor trainer Owen Grady (Guardians of the Galaxy's Chris Pratt) to come save the day, especially when military contractor Hoskins (Vincent D'Onofrio, whose career is finally picking up proper steam) poses a threat to the sanctity of the park.

The director here is Colin Trevorrow, who last made the Sundance hit Safety Not Guaranteed. It was a disarmingly effective science fiction comedy that hit practically every strong note in its narrative. He recently said in an interview that the writing here, which is done by four different peeps, crafts characters that fall into traditional gender tropes of previous generations. Oh, how he is sadly right. The first Jurassic Park utilized strong female characters and made an emotional connection between everyone, particularly the children. Here, the children are crafted as grating and annoying until they finally bond, but it takes too long to get there. A lot of mindless oogling at teenage girls occurs and halts the momentum. Claire, played well by Dallas Howard considering the limitations of the role, never moves past the "uptight career-oriented bitch" archetype until the last act. It's frustratingly old-fashioned and one-dimensional. Chris Pratt is respectable but he doesn't seem as settled as he was in his previously snarky big-screen efforts. Simply put, everything feels off when it comes to the performances, and the story doesn't do any of the characters much justice until the admittedly strong third act.

And that third act? It delivers a dino vs. dino epic battle that reminds of 2013's Pacific Rim in terms of its child-jumping-out-of-their-seats excitement. It's just a blast. Yet that violence is cartoony and appropriately animalized. When the film really starts to stray from the original is when it sensationalizes its human deaths, treating their bodies like pieces of meat and tossing them around the screen like rag dolls. While many of the casualties early on are dwelled on and treated with fragility, the latter ones mean nothing to the audience and the animals attacking them look like gross hybrids that aren't cool or exciting. It's mildly repulsive. Nonetheless, the story does have its merits, notably in the early developments when the Blackfish-esque undertones run rampant and preach for treating animals in captivity with respect, while recognizing that they are indeed wild animals that can snap at any given moment. Chris Pratt's Owen gets a few moments that truly work. The nostalgia, too, excels when spaced out, particularly the epic John Williams score we all know. For every element I enjoyed, another annoyed me. But I suppose Jurassic World delivers on audience expectations. I don't know if that's necessarily a good thing, though, as it falls far short of what Spielberg laid out 22 years ago.

Spy - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Spy  

Starring Melissa McCarthy, Rose Byrne, Jason Statham, Jude Law, Allison Janney, and Miranda Hart

Directed by Paul Feig

Rated R

Run Time: 120 minutes

Genre: Comedy/Action

Opens June 5th

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Melissa McCarthy continues to prove that, when given ripe comedic material, she is one of the funniest actresses on the planet. After some misfires like Identity Thief and the thoroughly unpleasant Tammy, she re-teams with Paul Feig for Spy, their third collaboration following their previous endeavors Bridesmaids and The Heat. Feig's script is an emphatic statement of comedic authority, proving that his sense of comic timing is relatively flawless, particularly in making jokes after a scene already feels like it has run its course. That's a talent that other writers often attempt to emulate, instead bogging down their films with unnecessary improvisations or quips that fall flat. Feig does the exact opposite, riffing on the well-worn spy genre and infusing it with his own dash of feminine star power, using McCarthy, Rose Byrne (great as ever), and relative newcomer Miranda Hart. Together, they create a film that defies the norms of the action genre and makes a mockery of its masculinity, while simultaneously paying homage to their bloated plots and double-edged characters.

The film follows Susan Cooper (Melissa McCarthy), a desk-bound CIA analyst that guides her field agent, Bradley Fine (Jude Law), one of the agency's top men. She's been working with the agency for ten years, mostly content with her work as one of the finest technological minds in the company. When Fine disappears, though, and a conspiracy for the sale of a nuclear bomb to terrorist groups emerges, Cooper is chosen as a candidate to help save the world due to her unrecognizable self. CIA head Elaine Crocker (Allison Janney) has seen Cooper's footage from the academy and knows that she is one of the finest agents they've ever had. Because of the built-in misogyny in the workplace and the mentality that a woman could not do the work of an active agent, Cooper decided to delegate herself to desk work. Now is her time to shine, and her friend Nancy (Miranda Hart) is proud of her accomplishment, even if she is still stuck at a desk. Cooper is joined in the field, unwillingly, by smarmy, ridiculously masculine agent Rick Ford (Jason Statham), who can help her catch Rayna Boyanov (Rose Byrne), the woman behind the transactions leading to the bomb.

A lot happens in Spy, but the convoluted plot is intentionally meant to simultaneously confuse and thrill. In the film's opening moments, Feig establishes the narrative as a satire of the spy film, with Fine acting as a complete buffoon who needs the help of his "secretary" to get things done. In a summer fueled by female breakthroughs like Elizabeth Banks directing Pitch Perfect 2 and Charlize Theron owning the seemingly testosterone-fueled Mad Max: Fury Road, it still feels refreshing to see women getting the attention they deserve in comedies that decidedly hone the craft and make men secondary to the more engaging and realistic women. McCarthy is phenomenal, having her character form into a full-on spy that talks trash like no other; her motor is filthy and relentless, particularly in a scene where she makes a grown man cry because she points out his incompetence. Feig has a brilliant comedic touch at the end of that particular scene that makes it a hoot. Supporting actors like Statham and Byrne surprise with their acerbic lines and demeanors. Everyone is, quite simply, perfectly cast.

The story admittedly strays as its characters backstab each other countless times and twists seemingly come out of nowhere. But we know enough about these characters and their intentionally formed archetypes that when the twists emerge, they feel authentic to the types of characters that they are. While that may not make a lot of sense in writing, it will on screen. The subtlety to the film's power derives from the way it treats the leading ladies. Feig ensures that the film does not craft its women in the typical fantasy limelight, ensuring that no nudity is used to detract from their comedic talents or the narrative. Nor are there any particularly racist or sexist jokes, which may sound like a thing that all movies should avoid, but you'd be surprised with the types of sequels and mainstream entries this summer that have found those amusing. Nonetheless, the film contextualizes its jokes and derives them from the characters. Jokes do not pop out of nowhere or fall flat. They're either slapstick or character-driven. Feig's an immensely talented writer-director and him and McCarthy simply own the film, proving to be an apt comic duo. They make Spy not only the year's best comedy so far, but one of the year's best films.