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Entertainment
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Watch those false notes ... Once Upon a Time in the West |
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Written by Jared Mobarak
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Thursday, 21 August 2008 |
Watch those false notes ... Once Upon a Time in the West
 Never having watched many Westerns, I just know from what I have heard, that they are chock full of anti-heroes. Men who live conflicted lives and, while they may do the right thing, probably only help others when it ultimately serves their own purposes. These aren’t businessmen, but just plain men … an ancient race. With Sergio Leone’s Once Upon a Time in the West, this cannot be truer. Between our three male leads, and even our female star, not a one can be called a hero of any sort. One is a killer, one a criminal, one a whore, and the other a man looking for vengeance, making friends, but really just traveling to the point of avenging a wrong done to him and his family. Do the two men protect the newly widowed Mrs. McBain from the ruthless killer Frank? Or do they just use her and the prospect of her money to get to where they want to be? Just because someone risks his life for another doesn’t mean it is a selfless act. Quite the contrary, it usually means they have a lot more invested in the situation than one might think. Concerning these four characters, you never can tell where allegiances lie, or how long they may hold up. All one can be sure of is that the almost three hour ride they take together, from strangers to intimate acquaintances, for better of worse, is a helluva good time.
I completely understand any complaint that the film may be too long and perhaps even boring in stretches. There are plenty of times where little to no speech is uttered; all we have to work with are the amazing visuals and sumptuous score. Each character seems to have their own song that follows them along, giving away their presence as time passes. The use of sound in general is so integral that those passages of silence, on behalf of the cast, is a necessity to create mood and tension between them. Who couldn’t think that a short diddy on the harmonica can elicit the amount of suspense it does here. Not only does it give away the position and identity of its player, it inflicts fear in those confronting it. An uncomfortable unease at this weathered cowboy exuding such a lyrical melody mingled with the inability to know if the musical talent hides an expertise with the gun or compensates for a lack thereof. The absence of sound also helps at moments to keep the audience off balance. In one of my favorite sequences—not to ruin anything, but the death of the McBain clan—contains two extended instances of nothingness. A father and his children are smiling and readying themselves for the arrival of Jill, their new wife and mother respectively, yet are taken off-guard twice at the lack of noise from nature, and, on our end, score. You know something is amiss and causing the turmoil to the circle of life, you just don’t quite know when or where that rift will show its face.
Cinematically, one couldn’t ask for more. There is a laborious, detail-orientated craft in play, carefully framing each second for full impact. The multiple showings of a large head in the foreground opposite a full figure in the distance, at diagonals to each other, never grows tired. The long focus, keeping it all in view is stunning to behold, as are the sweeping shots from above. A few long takes are interspersed as well, uncovering a dusty, realistic cesspool of deceit and wild west aspirations, the desert and tumbleweeds crawling around while the action moves through. Even the introduction to each character is handled with a skilled touch, framing them in silhouette, in close-up, or from afar, adding just the right amount of intrigue and importance to each. Especially for our three male leads, it couldn’t be better. After a long sequence at a deserted train station, men dealing with the heat, dripping water, and uncaring flies searching for a place to land, we see the figure of Charles Bronson’s Harmonica, just arrived from the passing train, telling the three men that they brought “two horses too many”. For Frank, an amazing role of villainy by Henry Fonda, we see his handiwork from off-camera as the McBains fall one after the other, culminating with a true glimpse into the compassionless void where his heart should be. And even Jason Robards’ Cheyenne enters with subtle bombast, walking into a saloon, slowly and with confidence, following the volleys of gunfire and struggle outside the establishment’s walls, ending with the camera upon his handcuffed wrists, pouring alcohol down his dry throat.
Claudia Cardinale has her moments as well, those times where she appears to be a lady of good-upbringing, truly distraught over the murder of her new family, a clan of farm folk that would allow her to leave the life of prostitution she had in New Orleans. A strong-willed firecracker, her Jill is unashamed to use her body for whatever means necessary; she likes the touch of a man, knowing that a hot bath will wash away all the unpleasantness for her to continue on living afterwards. Never allowing her to be the victim, Cardinale is no waif in need of protection and help, she can most definitely hold her own.
There is of course a story holding the brilliant character studies on display together, one of greed and power. The land left to Jill by her dead husband is worth a fortune once the railroad reaches it’s station, something Frank and his benefactor Morton, (another great performance by Gabriele Ferzetti), know, causing him to commit the murder. Harmonica and Cheyenne take it upon themselves to save that land for Jill, although their true reasoning results from the desire to stop Frank and all the evil he has caused the world. No one here is innocent, all are after power in some capacity, selfishly and without too much caring about the others except how much they can help achieve it. Truly a tale of humanity being undone by a world without rules, Once Upon a Time in the West is everything you’ve heard it was and more. I almost don’t want to watch another Western because I’m sure all the rest will pale in comparison.
Once Upon a Time in the West 10/10 |
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Welcome to the goodie room ... Tropic Thunder |
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Written by Jared Mobarak
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Thursday, 07 August 2008 |
 Despite my somewhat indifference, bordering on dislike, of Ben Stiller and most of what he does, Tropic Thunder has been on my much-anticipated list for some time now. The audacity of what he was attempting, spoofing the industry that was giving him the money to do so, blatantly and lovingly, was too great to ignore. And then there is the cast of stars with cameo after cameo of surprise faces joining in on the fun, not to mention the intense marketing strategy pushing it along. Websites for each fictional actor, a site with clips from the Rain of Madness making of documentary (a Hearts of Darkness send up “directed” by co-writer Justin Theroux), and even a faux E! True Hollywood Story to air the week before its premiere in theatres just add to the mythology and attention to detail that went into its making. Now, having finally seen the end result, I must say it didn’t let me down. True, I was expecting more in the way of story and plot, especially with all that background info manufactured, but when you get down to it, the entertainment value is off the charts, the one-liners are going to be quoted for years to come, and the laughs come often and hard.
To take on subject matter as lofty as a send-up to war films, mainly Apocalypse Now, needs a certain amount to bravery and confidence to not care if it all backfires. The production value and effects make this seem as though it is a certified blockbuster falling apart at the seams. Sure the characters are funny and the events on display hilarious, but by the look and feel of the aesthetic, this is a war film to the end. Between that realism and the love I have for meta-narrative, there was little chance Stiller would be bombing in my eyes. Something about movies within movies intrigue the heck out of me, and this one having actors within actors just played up my interest more. There was truly no better way to start this movie then how was done: the playing of Alpa Chino’s rap music, consumerism selling commercial and trailers for our three leads’ previous films. What better way to be introduced to our action star, our funnyman, and our award winning thespian? Knowing full well the extent of satire going on, each spot delivers, giving a little background into the work these men have done in the past.
Directly connecting with the subsequent shot, a live scene from the film at hand, the egos finally come out and show face. Jack Black’s Jeff Portney reins in his comedian schtick to portray a hardened solider, voice rasping as he shows his serious side; Stiller’s Tugg Speedman attempts to revive the action cred he tried to leave behind with his Oscar-bait turn as a mentally handicapped man in Simple Jack, where he went “full retarded, no one ever comes back from that”; and Robert Downey Jr.’s Kirk Lazarus, Australian genius at his craft, playing a black man like he was born one. The scene continues without a hitch, explosions everywhere, screams heard in the distance, and a heartfelt death about to be delivered, until the men show their true colors. Tugg can’t make himself cry, (he’s just not that good), and Kirk’s blubbering and drooling is just so real that the two must partake in a pissing match while effects guru Cody, (the red hot of late Danny McBride), let’s loose the one-take only scorched earth fire storm. It’s all falling apart and script-writer/former soldier Four Leaf, (the always gruff Nick Nolte), gets the director, (Steve Coogan with one of the best film exits I’ve ever seen), to agree on guerilla filming, deep in the jungle of foreign lands. Here is where the fun begins and where the movie inside the movie becomes real, or, in effect, the actual movie—kind of like “the dude playing the dude, disguised as another dude”. The levels at play here are just too many to mention.
Besides a weakly written role for Black, the rest of the men are given enough to work with for some truly great moments. Stiller has a few instances where he returns to his over-long annoying routine—pouring “fake” blood into his mouth for one—but for the most part did a real good job, especially with his tough guy poses shooting off his gun. Jay Baruchel shines as the only non-celebrity involved, the guy who went to boot camp, read the novel and the script, and idolizes the men he is working with. Good to see him get a more beefed up role as opposed to the side parts in Apatow flims. And the back and forth between Downey Jr. and Brandon T. Jackson’s Alpa never get old. The whole dynamic of real black man versus fake was unceasingly funny.
There were plot points that irked me throughout, TiVo’s cameo being the biggest culprit, but I found myself pushing the problems aside and just enjoying the ride. Downey Jr.’s facial expressions, voices, and presence may steal the show, but what really allowed me to forget my worries was an absolutely brilliant cameo from Tom Cruise. His studio executive, pompously crass, loud-mouth made me think of all the horror stories you hear about the Weinsteins, and his dance moves can not be equaled. Tropic Thunder is first and foremost a vehicle for a bunch of friends to have a blast poking fun at their craft and really at themselves. I’ll be remembering quotes all night now, thinking that while the story itself doesn’t necessitate me watching it again soon, the jokes just might make buying it a must…not to mention the wealth of extras that DVD is sure to have.
Tropic Thunder 8/10 |
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Last Updated ( Wednesday, 20 August 2008 )
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Book Review: Empire of Lies |
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Written by Cisco
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Tuesday, 05 August 2008 |
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Book Review: Empire of Lies. Written by Andrew Klavan. Published by Harcourt, 2008. During the past month, I have read two recently published novels which have as their antagonists groups of Islamic fundamentalist terrorists. These two novels are Brad Thor's The Last Patriot and the book which we now have under review, Empire of Lies. To be sure, the plots are drastically different, and the protagonists in the two books could not possibly be more different: the hardcore CIA operative, Scot Harvath, found in Thor's novel, and the real-estate investing Evangelical Christian father of three, Jason Harrow, found in Klavan's novel. But both novels deal with the subject matter of Islamic fundamentalists, demonstrating that their primary objective is to kill anyone who disagrees with them. We have already done a review of The Last Patriot which you can read, but I will note here that, while I have a generally positive opinion of Thor's writing, The Last Patriot tends to be a dry history lesson at times and there are some gaping holes in the plot. Apparently, not everyone shares my opinion of the book, for even as I write this current review, The Last Patriot is number five on the Times Best Seller List. Certainly, some portion of it's popularity is attributable to the fact that Thor's readers have come to know and love Scot Harvath, and they want to know what is going on in this latest episode of his life. We see this same dynamic at play in the newly published book, The Bourne Sanction. The popularity of that book can in no way be attributable to good writing – the writing is mediocre, at best – but can only be explained by the desire of Jason Bourne fans to read more about Jason Bourne. When we compare the popularity of Empire of Lies to that of The Last Patriot, we find that not only is Klavan's book absent from the top ten on the Times Best Seller List, my local Barnes & Noble store did not even have one copy when I checked recently. In addition to the difference in popularity in the two books, we should also note the difference in notoriety. Since the publication of The Last Patriot, Brad Thor has been forced to re-locate and pay for additional personal security because of the death threats that he has received from Islamo-fascists. Apparently Islamo-fascists do not care for fictional characters searching for a fictional last revelation of the Qur'an. We have no indication that Andrew Klavan has received any similar death threats for Empire of Lies, even though the protagonist in the book can be found talking about Islamo-fascist fundamentalists, describing them as “Crazy jihadists taking over the failed kingdoms of Islam, fanatic hordes of fundamentalist warriors who seem to have burst alive out of the mural of the Dark Ages, burst, complete with beards and turbans, frothing horses, scimitars upraised, to go galloping nutso through real life. They would brook no god but their god, their ferocious god, and no law but their sharia law. They would kill any one that might oppose or offend them, any Muslim who imagined a new future, any woman who wanted to be equal or free...They were murderers in Holland. Rioters in France. Bombers in England, Russia, Pakistan, and so on.” Apparently, a writer of fiction does not merit death threats if he merely tells the truth about the fascistic behavior of Islamic fundamentalists. Perhaps you have purchased The Last Patriot because you are a great fan of Thor's Scot Harvath, or perhaps you have purchased the book just to find out what is written there that merits the Salman Rushdie treatment for Brad Thor. But if you are a true fan of the spy thriller genre, I think that you will be doing yourself a great disservice if you choose to ignore the superior book of the two, Empire of Lies. The book is superior in it's character development, superior in it's believability, and superior in it's telling of action sequences. |
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Last Updated ( Wednesday, 20 August 2008 )
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Evil is the indifference of good men ... The Boondock Saints |
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Written by Jared Mobarak
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Monday, 04 August 2008 |
Why did Troy Duffy need to open his mouth and burn every bridge he had in Hollywood? After making an amazing movie like The Boondock Saints, more so for being his first feature film script and direction, fans are told a sequel, All Saints Day, is planned. Unfortunately no one will probably ever see that film because of Duffy’s arrogance and pride. After being given money and trust to create the movie, he repaid his backers with public insults during his drunken stupors. It is a real shame as his talent is apparent and could have molded into something very good.
Sean Patrick Flanery and Norman Reedus are the MacManus brothers, two Irish boys that are highly spiritual and modestly intelligent. They live in virtual squalor, work at a meat factory, and drink with their buddies. After a self-defense killing, which triggered a shot of adrenaline against heavy odds to be victorious, they begin to believe they have a purpose on this earth. While spending the night in jail after the incident, to avoid the mob of reporters outside, the brothers both wake from a dream which gives them their duty, (from God?), to dispatch of the evils of the world. They become vigilantes, killing those dangerous criminals who once captured would eventually be let go by the system. Both are very good in their roles, using what they know of Charles Bronson and James Bond to get the job done. Each hit is done with folly and “that only happens in the movies” moments, but in the end they are completed professionally and effectively. The knowledge by the characters about their own blind luck is a nice touch and helps the audience go along for the ride as they never take themselves too seriously, except of course for the reasoning behind their murderous deeds.
Although the two boys are the stars and drive of the movie, the outstanding performance belongs to the great Willem Dafoe. He plays a homosexual FBI agent named Paul Smecker and is always able to orchestrate in his head, along with the help of classical music through his headphones, every nuance of the past days’ atrocities. Smecker follows closely behind the brothers trying to crack the case, slowly leading him down the path of reevaluating what it is his job truly accomplishes, and if these killers are actually doing more good than he. Duffy shows great visual flair showing Smecker as he reconstructs each crime. We always see the incidents through his eyes and not the MacManuses themselves. This style eventually gives us the best scene—a fight at a poker game of criminals. Here instead of quick cuts between the orator and past events, we see Dafoe in frame, calmly narrating as the vigilantes do their work alongside. The scream of “There was a FIREFIGHT!” has amazing bravado and theatricality that would be laughable anywhere else, but ultimately poignant and fitting in context here.
Along with one of Dafoe’s career turns come some very nice supporting players. The non-actor David Della Rocco does an amazing job as the brothers’ Italian low-level mobster friend, actually based on himself by friend Duffy. He is the “Funnyman” as he is called in the film, adding the best instances of comic relief besides the scathing retorts of Dafoe. His heart and naïveté help us understand our antiheroes’ intents. They both protect him like a brother and try to show him that what they do is for good; they only kill evil men, those that laws can’t seem to rid society of. We also get nice turns from Billy Connolly and Gerard Parkes. Seeing Connolly in a non-comedic role is a nice change for me; his remorseless assassin Il Duce is a brilliantly constructed character. I give full credit to the director for getting a performance against type from him. As for Parkes, from “Fraggle Rock” fame, we get nice comic relief with his stuttering, Tourettes afflicted bartender.
The Boondock Saints is a high action, intelligently told story filled with violence, comedy, and drama. Duffy’s style is uncommonly polished for being his first outing and it’s a real shame that it will probably be his last. Hopefully, one day, he will become man enough to take the bullet and apologize for what he did, so that we can see what else is in him artistically. I haven’t seen it yet, but the documentary Overnight tells the story of development and filming activities during which his descent into hell happened. A burgeoning cult classic, Saints will hopefully be remembered for the energetic ride it is and not the off-camera mistakes of its’ creator.
The Boondock Saints 9/10
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Last Updated ( Tuesday, 05 August 2008 )
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Don't give up ... The X-Files: I Want to Believe Movie Review |
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Written by Jared Mobarak
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Sunday, 27 July 2008 |
Don't give up ... The X-Files: I Want to Believe
 Wow, six years later and Chris Carter decided that his old show “The X-Files” still had relevance. I’ll admit to having loved the show when it first aired, diligently watching each episode for the first five or so seasons to see where the mythology arc would lead. Yeah, the one-off shows were fun, the occasional monster/killer/paranormal weirdness, but when they continued the alien conspiracy tale, my ears and eyes stayed glued. Black Oil, Krycek, and Cancer-Man made up the ultimate trifecta in 90’s television for me. With all that said, I was anticipating the return of Scully and Mulder to the big screen with The X-Files: I Want to Believe. Maybe not completely excited, I really just wanted to see what they had to say, maybe get a nice extension to the conspiracy, because really, why else would they do it? Well it appears that answer is money and the hope to cash in on nostalgia and salivating fans. Besides the mention of Mulder’s sister’s abduction, the alien plotline is vacant, Black Oil plays no part, (and they have to kick us while we’re down showing the bleeding tears, at first making me question if the oil was upon us), and what we are left with is more psychically charged “CSI” than the “X-Files” I know and remember well.
I admit to not knowing what happened to these characters later on in the series. How did they write Mulder off the show? What ever happened between these two agents with all kinds of repressed sexual tension? I kind of got my answers during the course of the film, if not the details, at least the circumstances. It seems as though Carter wrote this tale to give some closure to the team he formed back in 1993. We learn how their relationship has progressed amidst his hiding from the FBI and pretty much underground mentality as well as Scully’s journey into the actual practice of medicine to save lives. The crime on hand to be solved—a Russian black market organ transportation scheme—takes a backseat to the evolution we see as our two heroes glimpse back into the lives they thought they left behind. It is somewhat unfortunate because the groundwork was laid out for some creepiness, but instead the blood and psychotic surgeries stay on the periphery.
It is somewhat sad to say too, but the new faces introduced are all pretty much unnecessary. Xzibit is way out of his element as a by the books, not a skeptical bone in his body FBI agent. He has one expression and one job throughout: to cast doubt and play the downer. It is tiresome. As is Amanda Peet, an actress I generally enjoy. She is no more than a pawn used to get Mulder out of the cave he holed up in. Whatever hard chick persona she attempts is annoying and the hidden “I kinda dig Fox” agenda seems to bubble to the surface every once in a while, (the scene after he shaved), but never becomes anything. Both characters are wasted and could have been cut down immensely to just random agents that hire Mulder to help them out.
Don’t think I hated them all though. When the role was relevant to the plot, the actors did a bang up job. Billy Connolly is fantastic as the psychic, ex-priest, pedophile Father Joe. He plays it up at all times and borders on crazy while coming across as genuine in every action he takes. When you put him and Scully in a room together, sparks fly. Well one screaming match towards the end in his dorm is a bit wooden, but for the most part they play off each other well. As for villainy, who better than the best manifestation of psychological terror on TV with his Leoben role in “Battlestar Galactica”? Callum Keith Rennie plays with a nice Russian accent and just does what he does, creepy ulterior motive smile working splendidly.
But really, this film is about a return to the roles that made them for David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson. Yeah Mitch Pileggi gets a bone thrown his way too, but that one is more for the fanboys than anything else. I have to say, it was exciting seeing these two back onscreen together as the skeptic and the believer. Duchovny’s quips bring the funny like always; however, I couldn’t help but think that his role in “Californication” added to the humor for me. Both were made for these characters and they seem to be comfortable returning to them after a half-decade hiatus. They brought me back into the world of paranormal crime, I just wanted a little more to the story. I get the whole “never give up” creed and it is beaten into our heads repeatedly. What about not giving up on the search for proof of alien existence? That is the story I wanted and hoped to see at least a cursory nod to. Maybe the mythology was wrapped up with the end of the series, I don’t know having not watched it. Either way, I wanted more “X-Files” and less crime scene evidence disproving the psychic connection so obviously at work. Don’t let science ruin your beliefs, Mulder never did and I won’t either. Maybe in another five years we’ll get the movie I’ve been waiting for—Fox finally being reunited with Samantha.
The X-Files: I Want to Believe 6/10 |
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Last Updated ( Wednesday, 20 August 2008 )
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They've never seen real grass ... The Perfect Game |
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Written by Jared Mobarak
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Sunday, 27 July 2008 |
 The film The Perfect Game is a great story of the underdog defeating adversity at home and in public. This young team of Mexicans band together against all odds to form a Little League team in Monterey to be entered into the 1957 competition against the powerhouses of 12-year old baseball Americans. Not only must they overcome a novice at best skill at the game—helped enormously by their ex-Major League towel boy turned coach—but also the bigotry and racism of a segregated America not yet ready to see foreigners from below the southern border hand their precious kids a lesson in humility. Standing on its own, the story is quite the tale and intriguing at every turn. However, this is not a book, it is a visual medium and in that respect doesn’t live up to the quality of its plot. A made-for-TV movie at best, this film is very heavy-handed and way too feel-good for anyone with a brain hoping to find something that may stimulate a cell up there in his skull. Laughable in its saccharine drenched contrivances and score’s orchestral swells just begging to elicit sentimental tears, the Lifetime movie of the week quality definitely distracted this viewer, one who was intent on learning a story and seeing it all play out, not just to watch close-ups of pouting boys and cheesy smiles.
Don’t get me wrong, people looking for the uplifting story of success, when no one gave them a chance, will be very pleased. The amount of applause DURING the screening proves that point as viewers definitely get invested in these types of tales. For me, however, I need a little more, some real stakes that at times showed face—the coach’s drunken misstep that risks deporting them all due to expired visas—but mostly just bridge us to the next heartfelt moment. Stereotypes and clichés abound leading me to tell you all to make sure you check your mind at the door; it will not be needed. I don’t want to fault any of the acting, except of course Emilie de Ravin’s atrocious accent that made me want to wring her neck, because it isn’t bad considering the script and material. Clifton Collins Jr. is a favorite of mine and while at times is very out of his element playing off of a troupe of children, brings some of his standard brood and contemplative thinking. Used to playing psychotics, whether extreme as in Rules of Attraction or introverted as in Capote, casting him as the coach finding his heart again is a bold choice. For the most part it is a gamble that pays off.
As for the rest of the cast, I was completely thrown off by the amount of familiar faces being that I truly had not even heard of the film before being given the preview pass. Stalwarts like Bruce McGill, John Cothran Jr., Frances Fisher, and Chris Mulkey all make appearances alongside Louis Gossett Jr., (talk about a blast from the past). Even David Koechner reins in his annoyance for a decent cameo that brings a couple laughs. However, the kids definitely become the heart of the tale. Head-shaking for the fact that “Heroes” star Hayden Panettiere’s younger brother Jansen is playing a Mexican aside, the kids are very cute and fun to spend time with. You have your common traits for each to overcome and be friends despite of them, as well as the father/son dynamic needed to bring the heavy emotion. Unfortunately the chasm between Papa Macias and his last living son is so huge and so front and center, the inevitable reconciliation is so obvious that it loses all impact it might have had.
A warning must be said as well concerning the make-up of the film. Yes, there are many montages and time lapses to save time, however, you experience a ton of baseball. Whether an inning or abridged games in their entirety, director William Dear shows a little piece of each stop to the championship. The cuts are quick and often, so I wouldn’t be surprised if much of the actual baseball action was faked, but they do their job to portray what was being done. A family film from start to finish, I was the least bit surprised to find that Dear also helmed Angels in the Outfield. More life-affirming tale then sports flick, don’t be afraid to take your young ones to a movie even though it stars Cheech Marin. Long gone are his Cheech and Chong days, playing the priest that starts the seed of baseball in the small Mexican town, Marin brings some subtle chuckles, but mostly plays the rock opposite Collins Jr.’s conflicted hero. Never surprising at any moment, The Perfect Game may not be brilliance at the movies, but for what it is, you could do much worse than partake in a courageous true story while sitting through the candy-coated exuberance of it all.
The Perfect Game 5/10 |
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Last Updated ( Wednesday, 20 August 2008 )
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Book Review: The Devil's Delusion: Atheism And Its Scientific Pretensions |
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Written by Cisco
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Friday, 25 July 2008 |
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Book Review: The Devil's Delusion: Atheism and its Scientific Pretensions. Written by David Berlinski. Published by Crown Forum, 2008. When reading anything written in German, I never do so with the expectation of having any emotional reaction. It is my opinion that the German language tends to be very utilitarian, a language that is not often associated with love songs and endearments. It is a language which is more likely to be associated with engineering specifications than with sweet nothings or with words filled with spiritually uplifting connotations. I have no doubt that many native-speaking Germans will find fault with my opinion of their language, and would be able to show me examples of German literature replete with beauty and emotion. The dedication of David Berlinski's newest book, The Devil's Delusion, is partially written in German and when I read it, I did indeed have a strong emotional reaction. Berlinski dedicates his book “To the memory of my maternal grandfather, Samuel Goldfein,” and then the dedication is completed in German. I have attempted to contact Berlinski's publisher, Crown Forum, to ask them about the dedication, but they are apparently too inept to actually respond to phone calls and e-mails. I wanted to ask them why the dedication was written in German, but lacking their answer, I will put here in writing what I suspect. The dedication to the book tells the story of a sixty-six year old Ukrainian Jew, Berlinski's grandfather, who was transported to Dresden as forced labor in February of 1943, then sent to the Jewish ghetto, Theresienstadt, in March of that same year. For those who may not know, Theresienstadt was a place where many older Jews were sent prior to being sent to the extermination camps. Nearly nine months later, he was deported to Auschwitz. The dedication ends with the simple phrase “in Auschwitz vershollen.” |
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Last Updated ( Wednesday, 20 August 2008 )
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Sometimes the truth isn't good enough ... The Dark Knight Movie Reivew |
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Written by Jared Mobarak
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Thursday, 24 July 2008 |
 What do you do when your film is hyped up as the best comic book movie of all-time? What about when your star dies of an accidental drug overdose after completion, attributed by some to prescribed depression medication acquired due to the toll his character took on him? Well, you just have to ride the wave and hope it all turns out good. I mean just those two aspects alone were going to drive people to the theatres on Friday night, the real question was would the word-of-mouth keep them coming afterwards? My answer is a resounding yes. Rarely does a film not only live up to the lofty expectations set before it, but almost never does it exceed them. The Dark Knight is not only a great comic adaptation, but also a great movie from any genre. The acting is amazing, the story is intelligent and always keeping you on your toes, and the direction is a step up from the original installment, Batman Begins. I definitely had my reservations with the plethora of new characters and return of so many old ones, but Christopher Nolan handled it all like a champ. Some were so small that they probably weren’t necessary at all—I’m talking to you Scarecrow—but it never suffered from the sequel curse of too much too soon. Having The Joker and Harvey Dent introduced at the same time was natural and necessary because the two are on opposite sides of the legal spectrum, helping give Batman a look at what life could be in Gotham without him, both for the worst and the best.
The Gotham crime syndicates are afraid of the caped crusader to the point where their employees cower in the shadows at the sight of the Bat-signal and the mob bosses hold their meetings during the day. Worried that their finances are about to be seized by Lt. Gordon’s strike force, (Gary Oldman once more showing his greatness in even the straightforward roles he takes when on hiatus from the crazed villains he is used to playing), they pool it all together and hand over control to an Asian corporation, naively thinking it is safe from Gotham and new DA Harvey Dent’s jurisdiction. Only the demented nihilist The Joker understands that Batman has no bounds when it comes to what he is capable of. A vigilante himself, the superhero can go where he pleases and extract Lau from Hong Kong, the man with every penny owned by the city’s underbelly in his seemingly safe hands. This fact isn’t a question of could happen, but instead one of will happen. It is the first step in The Joker’s elaborate plan to take control of the city and prove to all that even the pure of heart can be and will be corruptible. Human nature is flawed and he wants to show the world just how much. Money is inconsequential; all he wants is the power and control.
While first seen as a fly sticking out of a bee swarm, Batman and Gordon don’t take any real heed of The Joker’s threat. It is the mob they are after and, with the help of Dent, are almost to the point where they can take them down for good. But as Harvey says, it is always darker before the dawn and this crazed maniac is blotting out the sun. Devoid of morals and seriously insane—“do you want to know how I got these scars?”—he takes no prisoners and consistently plays with everyone on his trail. A master of the human psyche, he is always two steps ahead of Batman and Gotham’s finest, pulling the strings on who is to live and who is to die. With the finding of his polar opposite in the form of Bruce Wayne’s alter-ego, The Joker is ready to have fun. Knowing how Batman’s one rule is the inability to kill, he pushes his buttons and places the blame of those he kills onto Wayne’s consciousness. Having a man like Dent there to stand for justice, face accessible to the world and not hidden behind a mask, Wayne’s guilt drives him to the edge of finally letting his identity be known. The Joker is a wild card in the poker match of life, orchestrator of anarchy, turning the world on each other and soon doesn’t even need to actually do any of the killings himself. Those he toys with find themselves falling to the darkness of revenge and greed, doing his bidding without even having to be asked.
No one is safe in this pitch-black world of violence and crime, almost completely shrouded in shadow once the small glint of light that seemed about to break through is snuffed out. Nolan throws conventions out the window with his plotting and willingness to take a chance on letting those we may find to be untouchable become expendable. He also has honed his action skills by giving us a bit more of a wide angle view on fights, letting them happen before our eyes and not be constructed later with quick cuts that don’t meld together. And the special effects, all I can say is bravo. From the new gadgets, (sonar systems and a kickass bat-cycle whose introduction is only upstaged by its ability to flip 90 degrees by riding up a building wall), to the make-up work, (The Joker is unsettling to view without Heath Ledger’s superb acting work), to the computer graphics, (not to ruin anything, but Two-Face is a sight to see), The Dark Knight pulls no punches.
With solid acting all around, Christian Bale and company carry over the success from the first film without fail. He himself is more comfortable in the duality of lifestyles, shining as Bruce Wayne the playboy, while also getting a chance to show some heroics before able to get his suit on, showing how it is the man and not the costume that really is super. However, it is the newcomers that bring the standard for comic book performances up to a level that may never be eclipsed. Aaron Eckhart is great as Dent with his pretty boy looks and affable charm. Unable to be bullied or scared, Eckhart embodies the good that Gotham has in its future and the subtle hinting to the darkness always hiding behind the façade of someone that pure of heart. He himself said it best, “you either die the hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” Foreshadowing at its best.
But of course, the true amazement is with Ledger’s Joker. When cast, many had their doubts, yet I remember always standing by the choice, knowing he could hit it out of the park if given the chance. Wow, this is the best villain ever put to screen. His vocal work and laugh are chilling and the facial ticks and licking of the lips just show the detail Ledger put in. The back-and-forths between him and Bale are always intriguing and exciting as the two powerhouses just put on a clinic and how about the introduction to his character at the start robbing the bank, what an entrance. The only part of this film that left me sad was the fact that we won’t be able to see Ledger reprise the role in the next installment. Kudos to Nolan for already saying that they will not recast; it is an honor to the job Heath did and to the audience so as not to pull a switch, ruining the character and movie because no one could ever even attempt to match the craft that went into the role here. A fantastic performance in a fantastic film…whatever you have heard, believe it.
The Dark Knight 10/10
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Last Updated ( Wednesday, 20 August 2008 )
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Which Holocaust shall be chosen? ... Hellboy 2: The Golden Army |
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Written by Jared Mobarak
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Tuesday, 15 July 2008 |
hich Holocaust shall be chosen? ... Hellboy 2: The Golden Army
 Guillermo del Toro goes behind the camera again to continue the saga of everyone’s favorite demon on Earth, working for the government to fight evil, in Hellboy 2: The Golden Army. Having already worked on a sequel in his career with Blade II, I had high hopes for this work to improve upon the solid first installment. Being that he was the second director in as many films for that vampire series, he was able to come in with a fresh eye. Here, however, he may be too close to the material and thus been subjected to the sophomore curse of trying to be bigger and better, yet only making it stuffed with fluff rather than anything with increasing value. By no means is the movie unentertaining or unenjoyable, on the contrary it is a good action flick. My problems lie with the fact that del Toro decided to leave behind the simplicity of tone and plot that worked so well in the first. Instead he has brought to screen a bloated, highly comedic, and much lighter entry to the series. The transitions between laughs and borderline melodramatic moments are too abrupt and confusing without any time to recover from one before going to the other. With a few cringe-inducing scenes evened out by some stellar effects, creatures, and choreographed fights, Hellboy 2 ends up being a mixed bag whose whole isn’t consistent enough to allow us to forget those times when it does derail.
While not as bad as Spider-man 3, I can’t help but think of comparing the two. The overly hammy nature of the two are somewhat similar with a scene here containing Abe and Hellboy singing Barry Manilow while drinking Tecate recalling the horrid emo Peter Parker jazzing it up downtown in Spidey. What worked in the first film was the subtle infusion of wit to counteract the dark nature of the actual storyline. In the sequel, the comedy actually takes center stage during the first two-thirds of the duration. Ron Perlman plays it up wonderfully, but it just became overkill for me. Trying to fit in as many one-liners as possible, the jabs started to take away from the story being told. Every time something important seems to be explained, it gets turned on its head with a laugh, cute at first, but annoyingly counterproductive after numerous instances.
I understand the fact that this is Hellboy trying to come out to the world, trying to become a celebrity and get the credit he feels he deserves. With that aspect he of course needs to play to the cameras and the rockstar sensibility they bring. In my opinion, they just took it too far, especially the Jeffrey Tambor role of Manning, the head of the government operation. He has been turned into a whiner and loses any respect he had from the first movie. I truly believe this is due to the fact that the filmmakers have decided to inject as much as they can into the film. There is just too much Tambor, watering down what works about his character and making him into a prop to be played with by Hellboy. This is not the only piece of the puzzle that has been given exponentially increased screentime. The sheer number of creatures is mind-boggling. Between the scene in the Troll Market—very reminiscent of the Mos Eisley spaceport on Tatooine in Star Wars: A New Hope—and just the random baddies thrown in throughout, we are assaulted by monsters and costumes at every turn. Don’t get me wrong, the effects work is impeccable and some of the races top-notch, it is just once again overkill. The elves are fantastically constructed, Johann Krauss’s ectoplasmic self is entertaining, and The Angel of Death is the coolest thing about the entire film. Did we need the tumor-man, or cat-eating troll, or even the forest God? Not really. The first two could have been anything and the giant God, is he a villain or is he an endangered species of worldly creation that could have been any big faceless monster and still have worked.
One thing that was grown well from the previous installment is the role of Abe Sapien, played once more by the great Doug Jones, (only this time he is allowed to use his own voice rather than a redub from David Hyde Pierce). One of the best characters from the first, his increased screentime is welcome despite the hitches into lovey-dovey drivel and the badly orchestrated “drunk” sequence.” His extension might be at the demise of Selma Blair’s role, which not only has been pushed to the background for much of the film, but while being given a cool new fire “suit” loses the very awesome blue inferno from part one.
However, what may be lacking in dramatic weight and darkness is compensated with amazing fight scenes. One thing this one has going for it are moments of brilliance on the battlefields. Luke Goss steals the show with his acrobatics and really steps up in the final fight versus Hellboy. He shows what made him so perfect as the main villain in Blade II and why del Toro decided to bring him on board to recapture that magic. It is the hand-to-hand combat that dazzles and I wish there was more of it to showcase. Even when the titular Golden Army arrives, they fight in a human-like way with arms and legs stabbing with swords. Unfortunately, moreso than not, we are treated with battles of destructions, roads and walls being blown apart by creatures and gunfire, showing how much the American public loves to see explosions. I myself would rather partake in the amazing dance-like work of true professionals doing it all without computer help. Del Toro got a lot right here, but also fell victim to the Hollywood machine, getting a little too big than necessary, watering down a final result that had the potential of being great.
Hellboy 2: The Golden Army 7/10 |
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Last Updated ( Thursday, 24 July 2008 )
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DVD Review: I warned you about compassion ... Batman Begins |
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Written by Jared Mobarak
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Wednesday, 09 July 2008 |
In anticipation for the new film The Dark Knight, I found it time to revisit the one that relaunched the franchise—Batman Begins. With an all-star cast and Christopher Nolan at the helm, everything seemed to be in place for a true telling reminiscent of the latter day comic books starring everyone’s favorite vigilante. Batman had become very dark and brooding since the days of Adam West’s Bangs! and Pows! Here was finally the chance to show that drama and ethos behind what makes Bruce Wayne hide in costume to take down criminals. As an origin story, you won’t find many better; as a comic book adaptation, you will be hard-pressed to do the same. Not without its faults, especially falling into the trap of so much exposition that there is only enough time for a whimper of a final confrontation with the villain, this film ushered in the trend to cater comic book material to adults. All those little kids who grew up reading the stories are older and the new audience is more attuned to the violence and psyche at play. Nolan and company realize this and have crafted a gritty beginning to a beloved character, complete with all the anger and vengeance that shaped who he was to become.
Starting with a nice sequence of flashbacks mixed within the natural progression of our entry point, we are treated to Bruce Wayne’s life and struggle within it, which pushed him to go underground amongst those he wished to rid the world of. A criminal himself, practicing his fighting skills, Wayne soon becomes acquainted with Henri Ducard, the right hand man of the “immortal” Ra’s Al Ghul, leader of the League of Shadows. He trains and learns the ways of the ninja to conquer his fears and be the ultimate machine needed to go against the crumbling world, specifically the devolved cityscape of Gotham. Finding out the truth of the group, that they wish to destroy in order to have a rebirth, Wayne leaves the hostile situation to return home and do what he can as a symbol for hope. Back in Gotham, he must walk the tightrope of keeping his crime fighter persona as secret as possible, namely by being the hardest partying, biggest spending millionaire the city has ever seen. By showing the world his playboy ways, he is free to consume his real self in honing his skills and toys to making sure Batman has all he needs to succeed on the streets.
There is of course an elaborate scheme at play, one to release a toxin in the air that makes people fear everything around them. Through this heightened sensory perception, they will turn on each other, killing and destroying everything in their wake for self-preservation. When a horse appears to breath fire in the mind of one’s drugged eyes, how can he be blamed for wanting to take action against a monster? This plan is intertwined between the streets, the bought and sold government, and outside forces finding their way into the city. Manufactured by psychiatrist Jonathan Crane, this toxin is used to make people insane, thus locking them in his Arkham Asylum for experimentation and silencing of whatever nefarious information they may know. He works for the crime boss Carmine Falcone yet someone higher up on the food chain is really pulling the strings. And while all this is going on, Bruce must also battle the fact that he has returned home to a company slowly slipping through his fingers. The men he needs are being let go and those he can’t trust are turning the business over to the public domain. In order to keep his split life complete with whatever he may need, at no risk from anyone asking questions, something must be done.
While the villainy may be lacking in scope, you have to be able to forgive the film. It is chock full of so many characters and relationships that need to be fleshed out. You almost have to give it credit for the amount of time it allocates towards those means because of all the groundwork necessary to be laid out for the subsequent films. We are given the relationship between Bruce and his parents, the complicated bond between he and childhood sweetheart Rachel Dawes, he and Alfred his confidant, the introduction of policeman Jim Gordon and other allies such as Lucious Fox, not to mention the multiple villains molding the way for future evildoers to show face—The Joker anyone? Credit must go to the stellar acting for making it all work. Christian Bale was inspired casting to perfection. He may scowl too much under the mask, but his charisma and physique help lend credibility to the dual role, showing how he can be successful at both lives without pause. Michael Caine and Morgan Freeman are true professionals and play their respective roles of Alfred and Fox to the letter; Gary Oldman is a chameleon given a bit less than hoped as Gordon, by the script, yet paving the way for the next installments; and even Katie Holmes as Dawes doesn’t do as bad a job as I initially thought at first glance, although I won’t be shedding any tears watching her replacement in The Dark Knight.
The villains are also well portrayed for the most part. If you can get past Tom Wilkinson’s horridly hammy accent, he gets the role down pretty good. Ken Wantanabe does well in a mysterious performance only enhancing the mystique behind his Ra’s Al Ghul and Cillian Murphy is creepiness personified. When Murphy must go into his own insanity and don the Scarecrow mask, he is a force to be feared—parents be warned if bringing in small children. And lastly comes Liam Neeson. As he showed in The Phantom Menace, who better to be the sage teacher, bestowing education onto the minds of those that will sponge it up completely. When that voice is heard, you stop what you’re doing and listen fully.
Batman Begins gets everything it needs right, bringing up the slack of those moments when it doesn’t quite succeed. I hope that in the next film we will be treated to some more choreographed fight sequences as opposed to the quick cut, chopped up ones here. The clarity is there and the action is intense, but it’s all just flashes and movement. If you are going to instill this fantasy tale with realism, there should be some long take battles a la the Bourne Series, something to make those in the audience salivate at the craft and precision that went into it all. If the standalone tale is somewhat slight, the exposition and history is definitely not. Once the final credits role, you will know without a doubt who Bruce Wayne is and why he does what he does. Now that all the backstory is explained, we can be treated to the next chapter unencumbered by the need to learn. This time we can just go for the ride and see where Nolan decides to take us next. I for one can’t wait.
Batman Begins 9/10 |
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Last Updated ( Monday, 04 August 2008 )
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