Sin City: A Dame to Kill For - Movie Review by Michael Clawson

Sin City: A Dame to Kill For  

Starring Jessica Alba, Josh Brolin, Eva Green, Mickey Rourke, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and Powers Boothe

Directed by Robert Rodriguez, Frank Miller

Rated R

Run Time: 102 minutes

Genre: Action/Crime

Opens August 22nd

by Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

“I was born at night, but I wasn’t born last night,” Josh Brolin’s hard-boiled avenger says to the Dame to Kill For, who coos and saunters over to him, her hips swiveling in see-through négligée, her eyes white orbs blinking seductively in the shadows. The noir drips from the screen in puddles. Bring waders.

Sin City: A Dame to Kill For is less a sequel to 2005’s Sin City than it is an appendix of new characters and alternative viewpoints. I spent much of the movie trying to figure out why Marv, Mickey Rourke’s bruiser from the first movie, was alive and well and still picking fights in that dive bar where all the strippers leave their clothes on. The answer is, of course, that this is a prequel, though even that’s questionable as Bruce Willis, another dead guy from the first movie, turns up as a ghost.

So really, don’t worry about the details, because what you’re going into this for is the pulpy crime drama, the stylized violence and the oozing sexuality. It also helps that the movie looks completely bonkers — panels from the graphic novel are snipped from the page and pasted hastily onto the screen using a mixture of rubber cement, grit and blood. Scenes are shot in silhouette, with accents of vivid color, using unrealistic cell-shaded backgrounds, and with dramatically noirish compositions with eviscerating shadows. The visuals are no better than the first movie, but that’s OK because the first movie has yet to be topped, even as The Spirit and 300 — both children of Sin City author Frank Miller — have notably tried.

Like the first Sin City, this one tells several intertwining stories at once. The main character, or the most main character, is Dwight played by Josh Brolin. He’s one of James M. Cain’s loser-heroes, a Walter Neff with a trenchcoat and a bad attitude. Dwight is skulking through the night when Ava (Eva Green) turns up and baits him, hooks hims and then, gyrating her constantly exposed breasts, reels him in. She inspires all kinds of noir monologue from him, including this gem: “She’s late like always and like always she’s worth the wait.” Green, who slithers across the screen in fleshy curls, chews up the scenery and dialogue like she hasn’t eaten since June.

As Dwight gets wrapped up in Ava’s (and Ava’s Boob’s) dilemma, elsewhere we meet up with Marv (Rourke), who’s still the eternal protector of Nancy (Jessica Alba), a stripper who never strips, though she does a routine late in the movie that is terrifyingly aggressive even for a shady biker bar. Nancy was in the original film, and she returns here with little to do, even as she attempts to murder Senator Roark (the joyfully vile Powers Boothe), whose reach into Sin City’s criminal underworld is vast. Roark also figures prominently in a plotline involving Johnny (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), a young gun with a sixth sense about gambling. Like Brolin’s character, Gordon-Levitt is given lots of Raymond Chandler-inspired dialogue. “Dammit, Johnny, hate yourself when you got the time,” says Johnny.

Film noir is a Hollywood staple, and easy to mock, and Sin City lampoons it more than it honors it. But that’s not a complaint, because noir is limitless, from the high school drama Brick to the outwardly spiraling Memento. The genre has transcended Chinatown and Double Indemnity to include Sin City and all its high-contrast, black-and-white ultra-stylization. That being said, the franchise can feel very gimmicky and there are times when the plots are victims to the film’s over-simplification of noir themes. Christopher Meloni has a brief chapter where he’s required to play a smitten detective to Ava’s femme fatale. At no fault of Meloni or Green, the sequences feel hammy and overplayed, and they reveal limitations to Sin City’s hyper-noir.

All in all, though, this is a taut sequel with some notable performances — mostly Rourke, Brolin and Green — as well as some memorable minor performances, including ones by Juno Temple, Lady Gaga, Ray Liotta and a hilarious turn by Christopher Lloyd as a skeevy doctor-for-hire. The film is directed again by Robert Rodriguez and Frank Miller, who must have had fun bringing Miller’s violent pages to the screen. Rodriguez might just be the king of exploitation, schlock, cult and other varieties of novelty B-movies, and Sin City: A Dame to Kill For is further proof he has no interest in directing a “normal” movie. That’s fine by me.

Lastly, I don’t normally mention this, but if you can see Sin City in 3D do it. The graphical nature of the film, and the way it jumps out of comic panels, creates an interesting three-dimensional effect that is unique to this film. And it features the first pair of characters that are entirely designed for 3D — Ava’s Boobs. Decide for yourself if that's a good or a bad thing.

Sin City: A Dame to Kill For - Movie Review by Monte Yazzie

Sin City: A Dame To Kill For  

Director: Robert Rodriguez and Frank Miller

Starring: Josh Brolin, Eva Green, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Jessica Alba, Mickey Rourke, Rosario Dawson, Powers Boothe, Jeremy Piven, Christopher Meloni, Ray Liotta, Juno Temple, Dennis Haysbert, Bruce Willis, and Christopher Lloyd

102 Minutes

Rated R

From Miramax Films

By Monte Yazzie (www.thecodafilms.com)

In 2005 director Robert Rodriquez transformed author Frank Miller’s neo-noir graphic novel “Sin City” into a stunning, cutting-edge film. Rodriguez, adoringly making a living comic book, utilized a groundbreaking mix of digital style and animated renderings. “Sin City: A Dame To Kill For” is a continuing story involving old and new characters. Miller, who also co-directed, utilizes an established story as inspiration but also includes two new tales. The narrative, somewhat fragmented, is again a gritty crime noir piece with intensified aesthetics of violence, sex, and revenge. Rodriguez and Miller keep everything relatively familiar, though “Dame” wields uncompromising style into every scene it doesn’t demand much more.

No one is innocent in Sin City. Some familiar faces still dodging their demise, but also a few new ones looking for trouble, journey about Sin City’s desperate streets. Nancy (Jessica Alba) hasn’t been the same since the suicide of her protector in the first film, a cop named Hartigan (Bruce Willis). An early image of a lost Nancy, scantily clad with a bottle of hard liquor and a handgun, is the descriptive sum of themes for the film. Her plight of desperation and revenge is one echoed throughout the mirage of extravagant visual style and outlandish violence. Nancy’s entrancing dance has a purposeful aggression this time around; her vengeful sights are squarely set on the powerfully corrupt Senator Roark (Powers Boothe). Willis makes a welcome cameo as a ghostlike guardian of sorts, while Boothe shines in an unpleasant role within two of the stories. The narrative struggles with keeping the shifting stories interesting. Especially Nancy’s story which unfortunately gets lost amongst the others but displayed potential of being the most interesting because of the characters extensive arc within the world.

Just like the first incarnation, “Dame” weaves storylines throughout each other with Nancy’s dive bar workplace playing the community intersection for the stories. Marv (Mickey Rourke) a bruising and bruised staple in the degenerate packed tavern watches over Nancy, but visitors are always welcome. This includes a cocky gambler named Johnny (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) who is playing a dangerous hand during a card game with Senator Roark. While Dwight (Josh Brolin replacing Clive Owen), a returning character from the first film, seeks retribution after deadly dealings with a femme fatale (Eva Green). The cast, even some unmentioned here, are exceptional throughout. Rourke in full comic makeup seems tailored to play Marv’s brawly presence. Gordon-Levitt is also good, squaring off against Boothe in a flow of tough guy sentiments and power gestures that are heightened in the realm of a poker game. Brolin, always interesting to watch, seems somewhat overshadowed playing opposite the best performance in the film by Eva Green. Green’s hyper sexualized performance as Ava seems to share all the best attributes of villainous women all wrapped into her character. Vulnerability and voluptuous beauty utilized to make men into her controlled marionettes.

“Sin City: A Dame to Kill For” continues its seedy sex and violence fueled tale with the same unique visual style established in the original nearly ten years ago. While the style and story are not entirely fresh, Frank Miller’s knack for constructing interesting characters and Rodriguez’s capable skill as a director keeps a relatively average sequel entertaining enough for those ready for another trip to Sin City.

Monte’s Rating

3.50 out of 5.00

Sin City: A Dame to Kill For - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Sin City: A Dame to Kill For  

Starring Jessica Alba, Josh Brolin, Eva Green, Mickey Rourke, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and Powers Boothe

Directed by Robert Rodriguez, Frank Miller

Rated R

Run Time: 102 minutes

Genre: Action/Crime

Opens August 22nd

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

The original Sin City was a defining mark of modern film noir, combining comic book stylings with a genre heaped in black-and-white cinematography and seedy individuals. The elements meshed perfectly and created one of the most visually stunning films of the past decade. Now, after a nine-year hiatus, Sin City: A Dame to Kill For enters the cinematic landscape as one of the most unnecessary sequels ever made, a convoluted, immature spoof of the original. Frank Miller picks up partial directing credit and writing credit for this entry, having written the graphic novels but also creating two new narratives for this feature: “The Long Bad Night” and “Nancy’s Last Dance.” Due to these additions, the film features multiple storylines that are set in different time periods without warning the viewer, creating an off-putting sense of thematic inconsistency. The stories feel held together by expired glue and remind us that when an anticipated sequel arrives, it needs to deliver what it promises.

The story has four central episodes, cut together to form a single narrative: “Just Another Saturday Night” follows Marv (Mickey Rourke) regaining consciousness on the side of the highway surrounded by dead bodies, wondering how he got there; “The Long Bad Night” focuses on Johnny (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), a lucky gambler who beats Senator Roark (Powers Boothe) in a game of poker that changes his life forever; “A Dame to Kill For” looks at Dwight (Josh Brolin), a man struggling with keeping himself in order especially when his former lover, the titular Ava (Eva Green), returns; and “Nancy’s Last Dance” centers on Nancy (Jessica Alba) dealing with Hartigan’s (Bruce Willis) suicide and turning herself into an alcoholic, vengeful dame aiming to take out Roark once and for all. Returning characters include Gail (Rosario Dawson) on a visit to Old Town along with newcomer detectives Mort (Christopher Meloni) and Bob (Jeremy Piven).

Sin City is full of jealousy, revenge, lust, love, and a whole lotta sex and violence. Ava is the dame the title refers to, acting as one of the most sexually charged characters I’ve seen on the big screen. She’s a character that never falls in love and manipulates men with her sex, whether that be Dwight or a married detective like Mort. She’s venomous and purely evil. When the camera moves over her naked body, it’s not signifying a lust for her so much as her raw sexuality acting as such a hypnotic force over the male characters. Most females in Sin City seem to embrace their sexuality and use it as a means of power. Men, on the other hand, use their brute force and occasional cunning to outmaneuver brutes, which creates an uncomfortably simple dichotomy. Everyone knows that Nancy strips and Marv will kill anyone with his bare hands, so does there have to be countless scenes that show those particulars happening over and over again? At a certain point, the storytelling grows lazy and monotonous rather than inventive and revelatory.

Much like the first film, Robert Rodriguez not only directs but also edits and cinematographs this adventure. It makes for a rapid-fire, blazing whirlwind of comic frenzy. The first ten minutes are belligerently paced and never let up, confusing the audience by re-introducing a character thought dead (in Marv, who was seen executed in the first film). The problem with this idea is that the narrative never comes together cohesively; by having multiple stories that do not cross time-wise, many of them lose meaning and don’t provide context for the first film. Rather, they feel wholly unnecessary. The 3D is well framed and deliberately used, perfectly captured for a world as visually arresting as Sin City. The performances are committed all-around, but Eva Green proves that if a long-awaited sequel needs a powerful, sexualized woman (after her work earlier this year on 300: Rise of an Empire), she’s the one. Yet Sin City: A Dame to Kill For fails to make much sense in its relevance to the overall story, feeling like mish-mashed vignettes that aim to capture the spirit of the original but fall flat.

Life After Beth - Movie Review by Michael Clawson

Life After Beth  

Starring Aubrey Plaza, Dane DeHaan, John C. Reilly, Molly Shannon and Anna Kendrick

Directed by Jeff Baena

From A24

Rated R

91 minutes

by Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

I’ve heard of dark comedies, but here’s a dim one.

It begins as a weepy death drama about a boy coping with the sudden demise of his girlfriend, then turns into zombie romance and eventually ends as a post-apocalyptic nightmarish comedy. And at no point does it elevate above dismal.

Life After Beth is a collection of wasted talent, vapid gags and awful dialogue. It doesn’t pass the Siskel Test, which asks if the film is more interesting than a documentary of the same actors having lunch. Not only would a movie of John C. Reilly picking through a Cobb salad be more interesting, it would qualify as humanitarian aid in the wake of this turd of a movie.

We begin with Zach (Dane DeHaan) in the grocery store arguing with a clerk because the store doesn’t sell black napkins for funerals. The punchline of this scene is told flatly from the clerk: “Um, try a party store.” It’s all downhill from here. Zach is going to his girlfriend's funeral, where it takes half a dozen scenes to establish that the girlfriend is Beth (Aubrey Plaza) and she died from a snakebite while walking through the woods.

This is a hopeless lump of a movie, but for about three minutes it had potential when Zach starts hanging out with Beth’s parents, played by John C. Reilly and Molly Shannon. Reilly, playing the awkward doofus, sits down with Zach to play chess and smoke pot, and they commiserate life without Beth. It’ll be OK, they tell each other. “I love you, man.” “I love you, too. Hang in there.” And then the scene ends and the movie implodes shortly after.

Beth, it turns out, is still alive and she’s essentially a zombie, though not a typical zombie. She doesn’t shamble or lunge, and her bites don’t create new zombies. She’s just alive and growing increasingly more unhinged. After first she’s just hyperactive and aggressively sexual, which catches Zach off-guard. But then she goes homicidal, tearing apart a lifeguard shack, building a mud hut in her attic, and letting a car roll over her chest. Anna Kendrick turns up for no other reason than to spare Plaza for more embarrassment.

The wheels essentially come off Life After Beth at this point. Plaza and DeHaan, so good in everything else they’ve ever been in, are paralyzed by a plot that makes no sense and dialogue that was randomly generated from third-grade book reports. Much of Plaza’s lines involve her blurting out incoherently and then pouncing on props on the set. There is no comedy here. Not a single chord. Not a whisper of a note.

As the horror continues, Zach and Beth bop around town and civilization crumbles as more of the dead rise from the grave. Eventually, Beth goes so crazy that Zach ties her to an oven that she promptly tears from the wall so she can walk through the woods until Zach does something that a producer should have done to this movie — he puts her out of her misery.

The movie is written and directed by Jeff Baena, who last worked on I Heart Huckabees, which explains a lot. He has directed an ugly movie, and a terrible one. But his movie has a great title. Life After Beth. It’s looking into the future, hopeful and optimistic. It reminds me of that moment right after I saw it, when everything felt new and pure, when Life After Beth was already far, far, far behind me.

Life After Beth - Movie Review by Monte Yazzie

Life After Beth  

Dir: Jeff Baena

Starring: Aubrey Plaza, Dane DeHaan, John C. Reilly, Molly Shannon, Paul Reiser, Cheryl Hines, Matthew Gray Gubler, and Anna Kendrick

91 Minutes

Rated R

By Monte Yazzie (www,thecodafilms.com)

There is never a lack of social commentary or awareness in the horror genre, but it seems rather prominent in zombie films. Going back to Romero’s films, zombies may not say much coherently but that doesn’t mean they aren’t trying to say something. “Life After Beth”, a romantic zombie comedy from director Jeff Baena, avoids delving too deep into sociopolitical sentiments but instead attempts to showcases the complications and awkwardness of love and relationships.

Beth (Aubrey Plaza) is dead. Having died in a hiking accident after getting bit by a snake, her boyfriend Zach (Dane DeHaan) is mourning and struggling with the guilt of the shaky ground their relationship was left on. Zach visits Beth’s parents (John C. Reilly and Molly Shannon), playing chess with her dad and organizing belongings into boxes with her mom. Zach is coping until Beth’s parents begin to act strange, not answering their door or communicating with him. Frustrated and wanting answers Zach spies into their home and witnesses something unbelievable, Beth alive and walking around in the house.

Aubrey Plaza has proven capable in small roles like a supporting spot in “Parks and Recreation” and in leading roles like “Safety Not Guaranteed”. Whether the expected deadpan sarcasm she is known for or a surprisingly heartfelt dramatic turn, Plaza has displayed potential range. She shows these qualities quite well in “Life After Beth”. After returning from death, Beth is oblivious to her demise and confused about her past. All she is sure of is her relationship with Zach and an unexplained test that she has to prepare for. Baena, who also wrote the script, touches on some interesting relationship ideas. Zach is offered the fortunate position of amending his regrets with Beth, but just as relationships change so has death changed Beth. She isn't the same, and the narrative builds this up comically with uncomfortable private moments that find the highly affectionate couple struggling with intimacy, like a funny moment where Zach has difficulty kissing Beth because of her unpleasant breath. But there are also moments of tension and fury involving Beth, who is confused emotionally and increasingly agitated at the people trying to control her.

Unfortunately the interesting themes of love and relationship are clouded by forced comedy. In one scene involving a funny and unexpected cameo, the timing feels unneeded at that particular moment in the film. This continues to happen during moments that seem to hold the most meaningful intent for the characters. While a few of these comedic breaks keep the tone from becoming too serious, it mostly functions in undermining the potential narrative insights. As the film progresses, the good ideas become more muddled and the film loses grasp on the direction it wants to go and the statement it wants to make.

“Life After Beth” can be quite humorous in parts, displaying a charming touch of comedy amidst some inventive genre touches. DeHaan and Plaza shine in the leading roles, with good support from the assisting cast, however the film struggles with finding a direction to go and balance between when it should be insightful and when it should be funny.

Monte’s Rating

2.50 out of 5.00

Life After Beth - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Life After Beth  

Starring Aubrey Plaza, Dane DeHaan, John C. Reilly, Molly Shannon, Cheryl Hines, and Anna Kendrick

Directed by Jeff Baena

Rated R

Run Time: 91 minutes

Genre: Comedy/Horror

Opens August 22nd

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Life After Beth attempts to breath life into the zombie genre but falls flat due to an inconsistent tone and sporadically affecting humor. The film often feels like a piece of sketch comedy that doesn’t have much substance past its initially amusing premise: a young man’s recently deceased girlfriend is mysteriously brought back from the dead, and she doesn’t seem like the same person. It’s admittedly compelling, but the film never takes advantage of providing commentary on the state of mourning or reflecting upon the nature of zombie storytelling. Instead, the story relies on being amusing and occasionally funny rather than delivering a full-fledged story. The performances are committed and engaging, particularly those by Aubrey Plaza and John C. Reilly, but too many open ends and strange musings leave the film feeling empty and lifeless like its title character.

The story centers on Zach Orfman (Dane DeHaan), a teenager that at the start of the film is seen mourning the death of his girlfriend, Beth Slocum (Aubrey Plaza). Zach is close to Beth’s parents, Maury (John C. Reilly) and Geenie (Molly Shannon), and he connects with their feeling of loss and hopelessness. They all wish they could have told Beth things before she died, and not have had their last conversation be so bad, but that’s always how mourners will feel after the loss of a loved one. Zach is depressed, his brother treats him terribly, and he needs to find a way to get past Beth. Then, one day when over at the Slocums’ house, he sees his ex-girlfriend through the window walking down the hallways. It can’t be. She’s dead. He saw the body buried, so he visits the graveyard and finds a hole right in front of her tombstone that points to her rising from the dead. Sure enough, after nagging the Slocums to let him see what’s happening, Beth comes back into Zach’s life and seems good as new.

Of course everything is not what it seems. Jeff Baena is a first-time director here, having previously co-written I Heart Huckabees with David O. Russell. He has a knack for deriving comedy out of the characters themselves rather than the actions, which lends itself well to an offbeat zombie comedy. The first half hour is ripe for material to come from a strange father-in-law figure and an aggressively personal brother, but the story can only carry that momentum so far. Most of the film’s second act uses suspense as a means of driving narrative; there’s no surprise in the fact that Beth is a zombie because, obviously, she rose from the dead and we know that a snakebite killed her. Now if the story meanders and the comedy remains, that would mean something else entirely. But much of the middle is defined by Zach falling back in love with Beth and falling right back out of it as she goes crazy and wants to eat his brains.

There’s commitment to the premise itself and from the actors, which keeps the film from being a bore. Plaza is solid in providing her character with an emotional tie, allowing the heart to shine through her strong desire for consuming human flesh. DeHaan is serviceable in the lead but doesn’t do much with the material due to his character being a thin protagonist. Reilly and Shannon are both terrific comedy actors who propel themselves wonderfully toward the absurdity of the concept. Yet despite all of this energy from the actors, they can’t make the material less trite or commonplace than it is. The story attempts to infuse heart into the final ten minutes but feels strangely distanced and off-putting. The lack of explanation for the dead rising, as they increasingly do throughout the film, leaves the audience with a supernatural take that never meshes with the narrative. Life After Beth is tonally odd and poorly executed, a solid idea stretched out far too much for comfort.

If I Stay - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

If I Stay  

Starring Chloë Grace Moretz, Mireille Enos, Jamie Blackley, Joshua Leonard, and Stacy Keach

Directed by R.J. Cutler

Rated PG-13

Run Time: 106 minutes

Genre: Drama/Romance

Opens August 22nd

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

If I Stay is based on the best-selling novel by Gayle Forman, centering on a teenager that has an out-of-body experience after her family gets in a car accident and she enters a coma. The story feels ripe for cinematic storytelling and strong visualizations, but it ends up demonstrating that too many young adult romances nowadays have to look, feel, and sound exactly the same to appease fans. The story must focus on a romance defined by an inconvenient but far too powerful love and continuously demonstrate that the characters are deeply infatuated with each other but also concerned about what the future has in store. The performances are strong when the narrative lets them get into the quieter, more intimate moments of the story; Chloe Grace Moretz is always a pleasant force on screen, and when her character’s love of music shines through, the story feels like something more grand. More often than not, however, it wallows in the amped-up melodrama that defines a young-adult romance in the modern age.

The film focuses on Mia Hall (Chloe Grace Moretz), a talented cello player in high school that’s surrounded by a loving family heaped in music. Her father, Denny (Joshua Leonard), was in a punk band in the ’90s and played around the Portland area to local success. Her mother, Kat (Mireille Enos), was a bonafide groupie that exposed her daughter to music early. A scene where Kat, with a pierced nose and dyed hair, holds Mia as a toddler at a concert with huge, construction-like headphones demonstrates the way music has influenced the family. Mia aims to get a full-ride scholarship backed by her talents, but those dreams are a bit complicated by Adam (Jamie Blackley), a talented guitarist/vocalist in an up-and-coming band. They quickly fall in love and soon realize that their future plans may not cross. This complicates things, and their relationship is on the rocks when Mia’s life is changed forever by that horrific accident.

Most of the love story is told through flashbacks as Mia wanders around the hospital where she’s comatose. As their story becomes defined, however, the scenes mix together like a dreamy haze and feel interchangeable. Most are meet-cute expressions of young love that grow tired. There’s also inexplicably another example of a teenager losing her virginity in a place that the story deems symbolic but ends up feeling woefully unromantic and off-putting. But I am not the core audience of the film, particularly their niche demographic of cello-playing high schoolers that fall madly in love with young rockers. The story also creates an uncomfortably needy male interest in Blackley’s Adam, making him a self-centered character that gets angry at Mia not for hiding that she applied to a school out of state, but that it ruins their plans of being together. His parents neglected him as a child so he doesn’t want to lose her, but it feels like far more of a guilt trip on his part rather than an emotionally backed decision.

The performances from Moretz and Enos elevate the film to a middle-of-the-road affair. Enos has acting talent, as evidenced by her excellent work on The Killing, and she brings life to some trite dialogue in important scenes. She calls true love a bitch and says that life is full of difficult decisions; the scene should be unwatchably cliché, but it remains tolerable because of her empathy. Moretz mostly acts concerned in the hospital scenes, but Mia’s love for music substantially drives her performance. Stacy Keach is also wonderful in the small role he’s allotted. But there’s a scene that defines the blandness of the film: as the characters walk out of their first date, a long tracking shot begins that follows them down a path after an establishing shot shows the scope of the scene. As the long take starts to make the scene feel naturalistic and poignant, the camera jumps to the pre-existing establishing shot and then to another angle that doesn’t add to the scene itself. If I Stay takes the easy road for much of its journey, becoming emotionally indistinguishable from the glut of young-adult romances in the marketplace.

When the Game Stands Tall - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

When the Game Stands Tall  

Starring Jim Caviezel, Alexander Ludwig, Michael Chiklis, Laura Dern, and Clancy Brown

Directed by Thomas Carter

Rated PG

Run Time: 115 minutes

Genre: Sports/Drama

Opens August 22nd

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

I’m a sucker for sports films. Seeing the way that a particular game can bring individuals together and create a sense of unity and pride is thrillingly unique, particularly on the big screen. Not all sports films are created equal, and that’s apparent in When the Game Stands Tall. It’s inconsistently moving fare, but also an impassioned cry for togetherness and maturity with sports as the defining catalyst. There’s something strange about how it’s presented on screen, surrounded by death, heartbreak, doubt, happiness, abuse, laughter, and pretty much any other cinematic element you can draw up in your mind. There are many loud moments, telling the audience that something big and emotional is happening! But the film works when it embraces the quietness of its endeavors, looking into the characters and letting them foster on screen. When the characters talk about ideas, the film strays; when they get into who they are as people, we care.

The film tells the story of the De La Salle High School football team, who rose from obscurity due to an 151-game winning streak that stands as the longest winning streak in American sports history. Their coach, Bob Ladouceur (Jim Caviezel), has received offers from many prestigious colleges to coach their teams, but he always refuses. He says that students in college don’t give him as much to teach them; he likes the idea of fostering these students into good, moral citizens. There’s something honorable about a man profoundly embracing his profession in education. He teaches discipline and family for the team, which a lot of time emphasizes religion and the importance of God upon their lives. Whatever he’s doing, it’s working. After the team wins yet another state championship, they must prepare their juniors to lead the squad next year. That includes his son, Danny (Matthew Daddario), and star running back Chris Ryan (Alexander Ludwig).

Danny feels disassociated from his father due to a strained coaching relationship and his father’s stern nature. Chris has to deal with a verbally and mentally abusive father, Mickey (Clancy Brown), who insists that his son break the state’s touchdown record and never lets him lose sight of the goal. The film focuses on many other subplots, including one involving the seniors that are heading off to college and getting accepted to great programs like Oregon. But there are endless hardships for everyone involved, particularly after their winning streak snaps with the new set of juniors. The story addresses that element early on, setting up the streak as an embattled part of their high school careers. Can they overcome such a heartbreaking, devastating loss? Or will they let this streak and its end define them? Thomas Carter’s film weaves all of these stories around the idea that their team is a family, one that must stick together and support one another through anything and everything.

When the Game Stands Tall doesn’t just wear its heart on its sleeve; it’s all over the front and back of the jersey like large white numbers. The film is rocky tonally and conceptually, often falling flat on developing supporting characters and instead having them talk a lot about concepts and beliefs. There’s an abundance of stories with heavy moral values, an accepted truth of a film with religion as the underlying factor that ties together all of these narratives. Carter doesn’t just allow his film to preach religion, though, but allows it to act as a means of understanding these characters. The film shows doubt as a psychological struggle that some of the players face when one of their most talented players is murdered. Why would a just world let such an unjust act happen? There are too many exaggerated scenes that beg these kinds of questions for the film to coherently flow, but luckily the narrative depends on the game of football itself in the second half to infuse excitement and needed drama into the characters’ lives. It’s a faulty journey, but it’s ultimately a moving sports drama that has a strong payoff.

The Giver - Movie Review by Michael Clawson

The Giver  

Directed by Phillip Noyce

Starring Brenton Thwaites, Jeff Bridges, Meryl Streep, Katie Holmes and Alexander Skarsgård

From The Weinstein Company

Rated PG-13

100 minutes

The Giver

by Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

Here’s the funny thing about freedom of choice: the characters in The Giver might not have it, but we as audience members do. And I recommend you choose something different to watch this weekend.

It’s not that The Giver is an awful movie — it’s rather splendid to look at, and the two key performances are noteworthy — it’s just that The Giver is woefully broken from its premise on up. Take for example, the deus ex machina from the third act: a translucent “memory bubble.” What does the bubble have to do with the plot? Nothing. What does the bubble solve? Everything. But problems begin long before bubbles blow up Phillip Noyce’s incomprehensible movie based on the popular Lois Lowry’s pre-young-adult young adult book.

It takes place in one of those dystopian utopias where people all look like walking-talking Apple products, their uniforms stitched together by a design team in Cupertino, speech patterns that are robotic and vaguely clinical, and their bicycles are props from a 1964 World’s Fair movie about “the Future.” The movie has a nice look, but an empty heart. We begin with Jonas (Brenton Thwaites), who feels like he’s different than other teens, a fact corroborated during his graduation ceremony when he’s paired with the Giver (Jeff Bridges), the community’s keeper of memories and a knowledge.

This sci-fi civilization has largely forgotten its history, from dancing and love to war and famine, because everyone is required to take drugs that blur memories, suppress dreams, stifle moods, inhibit feelings and take away the ability to choose. This, we’re told by the Chief Elder (Meryl Streep), is because when people choose they often choose wrong. By taking away memory, choice, history, pain and even color — the movie is shot in black and white at the beginning — the people are promised a peaceful society, but also a hollow one. And this is where the Giver comes in. He’s supposed to retain all the memories from the more tumultuous days in case they’re ever needed (they aren’t) or in case he’s summoned to provide political advice (he isn’t) to the high elders. It seems like the Giver and his vault of memories are kept around because the elders are dystopian hoarders.

The Giver, all gruff and snappy underneath Bridges’ grumpy performance, begins teaching Jonas what’s rattling around up in his head. They do this by holding hands so the Giver can transfer what can only be described as first-person GoPro and YouTube videos directly into Jonas’ brain. Each new memory opens up Jonas’ world more and more until he begins questioning the whole structure of his society. And then off he sleds to the “memory bubble” to reboot the population.

We’ve seen movies, and book-turned-movies, like this before, including 1984, Terry Gilliam’s Brazil, Fahrenheit 451, Gattaca and even The Hunger Games movies, but The Giver seems to most closely identify with Kurt Wimmer’s cult gun-fu action bonanza Equilibrium and, strangely enough, Gary Ross’ Pleasantville, which saw modern-day characters enter into a Leave It To Beaver-style TV show. Yes, Pleasantville, like The Giver, has long segments in black and white and then slowly introduces color during its characters’ awakenings, but it also nailed many of these same plot devices that The Giver fumbles.

Pleasantville, through its inventive writing, managed to have an open dialogue about choice and emotion and passion and pain without sacrificing the moral dilemma of the film’s universe. But here, no dialogue of that magnitude exists because it’s all been boiled down to a memory bubble that solves everything and nothing at the same time. In the film’s most awful moment, Jonas’ dad euthanizes a baby in a scene that’s meant to show how detached from reality the society has become. But with no moral reckoning for this behavior, the film essentially kills a baby for nothing. It’s an agonizing scene that proves that not only is the character detached from reality, but so is the movie.

Ignoring it’s broken center, The Giver does look rather snazzy. The effects pop and the designs are appropriately modern. Thwaites and Bridges share some scenes that are effective at establishing their complicated roles as teacher and student, or giver and receiver (stop snickering). Katie Holmes plays an unfeeling mother in what could easily be considered a skewering of Scientology. Alexander Skarsgård, so great in everything he’s in, has to kill a baby, an act from which his character never recuperates. Much of the dialogue is angular and awkward, a result of the society’s strict use of “precision of language.”

Really, though, there’s not much to love in this movie. It’s astonishingly deaf with its plot and themes, and the memory bubble finale is insulting.

And speaking of memory bubbles, maybe there’s one this movie can be stuffed into.

The Giver - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

The Giver  

Starring Brenton Thwaites, Jeff Bridges, Meryl Streep, Odeya Rush, Alexander Skarsgard, and Katie Holmes

Directed by Phillip Noyce

Rated PG-13

Run Time: 94 minutes

Genre: Drama/Sci-Fi

Opens August 15th

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

The Giver is an ambitious adaptation of Lois Lowry’s award-winning novel, but it’s rushed, muddled, and bogged down by its intentions of making a dystopia that appeases young viewers. The novel was celebrated upon its release in 1993, read in schools around the country but also surrounded by controversy about its message. The film, on the other hand, plays the story safe and uses many dystopia trappings that feel all too familiar in the wake of recent efforts like The Hunger Games and Divergent. Here, the rules are seemingly simple: the community formed is idyllic and tranquil, with all of the citizens healthy, self-sufficient, and productive. People are happy and there is no war, pain, or suffering. Yet in attempting to create a utopia, they ultimately produce a dystopia because the citizens do not know of any kind of art or wildlife, nor do they have any memories of the past world and what used to be on Earth.

The story follows Jonas (Brenton Thwaites), a young man who fails to be chosen at an annual ceremony that determines a citizen’s place in their society. The Chief Elder (Meryl Streep) believes that Jonas has the potential to see beyond their reality, assigning him the position of “Receiver of Memory.” He will be learning from the Giver (Jeff Bridges), an old man who holds memories of the past that have gone from generation to generation. The Giver is a man who doesn’t have a filter and also doesn’t have to obey the laws of society, which include using precision of language (i.e., avoiding fluffy words like “love”), telling the truth, taking daily medication, and forgiving and apologizing for everything. Jonas has grown up with all of these rules and must learn that with these memories will come an understanding of their society. He is taught the ways of the past, both good and evil, but cannot understand how they can live in such a simple, empty way when denied life’s most precious gifts.

The premise is compelling and crazily ambitious. Like most films of the sort, though, with great ambition comes great responsibility. The film grows increasingly faulty over its running time and seems to leave out important elements that would help illuminate the nature of the world. How exactly did this society form? That’s a nagging question that gets a roundabout response: well, the world was a bad, evil place, so this society had to be created in order to preserve humanity. But how did they come to exist on top of a rock formation above the clouds? Phillip Noyce’s film cares more about ideas than particulars, which I cannot necessarily fault. The ideas are lofty and epic in scope, with the society itself acting as a strange form of socialism that numbs the brain and eradicates all sense of emotion from the equation. The society must sustain itself and prosper; the will of the people does not matter as long as the society grows stronger.

Color is an important element of the film, too, with much of the beginning taking place in black-and-white to signify the simplicity and emptiness of the citizens’ lives. Color only emerges when Jonas opens himself up to the past and sees what the world has to offer; his brain can be free and feel as much as it desires. Thwaites is a solid choice for the lead, providing some heft to the role by allowing subtleties to emerge when the script allows. The love story surrounding him and Fiona (Odeya Rush) is muddled and lifeless, with Rush proving unable to make the most of a mild, inconsequential character. Bridges and Streep are remarkable when on screen, particularly when they share the frame; they are dynamic and versatile, giving the story even more gravitas and meaning. Yet the film becomes muddled and far too absurd in its last half hour, using vague symbolism and an open-ended conclusion that asks more than elaborates. The Giver is a film with a heavy message but an unsure voice.

The Expendables 3 - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

The Expendables 3  

Starring Sylvester Stallone, Jason Statham, Harrison Ford, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Mel Gibson, and Wesley Snipes

Directed by Patrick Hughes

Rated PG-13

Run Time: 126 minutes

Genre: Action/Adventure

Opens August 15th

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

The Expendables franchise is defined by the self-aware nature of the title action actors, knowing that they are far too old for the work they are doing on screen. That allows for Sylvester Stallone to bring together all of his favorite stars to celebrate the old way of doing things and how grand it can be. His ultimate goal with these films seems to be the celebration of 80s actioners that showed characters kicking ass and fighting bad guys that wanted to destroy the world. Yet like his stars, these films have grown tired and worn out. The peak was the second film, an entertaining romp that capitalized on the absurdity of the franchise by amping up the action and supporting characters to a ridiculous level. Yet the latest entry undermines the excitement inherent with the series: the PG-13 rating makes the bloodless action feel inconsequential and the story involves young characters to make the older gentlemen feel outdated. Sure, the dialogue will always be awful and the acting atrocious, but at least there was some spontaneity in the others.

The story this time around follows the usual suspects as they attempt to rescue an old pal and stop another one. Barney (Sylvester Stallone), Christmas (Jason Statham), Gunner (Dolph Lundgren), and others break their friend Doc (Wesley Snipes) out of an armored train prison. Could you honestly say that your friends would do the same? As they head to Somalia to track down a nuclear weapons dealer, they run into an old member of their group: Stonebanks (Mel Gibson), a ruthless madman that wanted to become the leader of his own pack. He broke off from the group and basically wanted to become evil. At least that’s what the film says. He’s also masterfully defined by his desire to buy works of art worth millions of dollars that he doesn’t really like. The Expendables hunt down Stonebanks with the guidance of Drummer (Harrison Ford), a character that effectively replaces Church because Bruce Willis wanted to be paid too much. Oh yeah, and Trench (Arnold Schwarzenegger) is back, mostly appearing in Hawaiian shirts and looking like he’s confused about why he’s a recurring character.

The Expendables 3 is defined by many of the same traits that dominate the previous entries in the franchise. Characters talk about things as if they are always cracking painfully obvious jokes or delivering one-liners. I’m not sure there’s ever a moment in the film when there isn’t a reminder that these are all actors from famous franchises, and hey, listen to Ah-nuld reference getting to the choppa! The addition of a female character named Luna, played by MMA fighter Ronda Rousey, is ambitious and a bridge being established for the planned Expendabelles film (a spin-off of female action stars). Luna acts as a strong female force that wants to stand her own ground amidst all of the testosterone. She can kick some serious ass. She’s also one of many new additions that bog down the latest entry and add on an extra half hour to the running time; even Antonio Banderas, a wonderfully talented and charismatic actor, feels woefully out of place, being demoted to an annoying sidekick rather than becoming an actual character.

Yet the action is the shining star of these films, the beacon of hope that guides the viewer toward a satisfying viewing. It’s a disappointment, then, that the film undermines all of the action by taking away every element that made it distinguishable in the previous efforts. Here, the teen-friendly rating demonstrates a desire to appease younger viewers, but in doing so the action becomes woefully bland and lifeless. Outside of an exciting car chase in one of the film’s opening moments, every fighting sequence feels choreographed and mechanical. Characters never get wounded and nothing important happens to any of them when they are facing danger. As they are attacked by hundreds of men and have multiple tanks and helicopters shooting at them nonstop, you would think one character would get hit by a single bullet. Even Gibson’s character remarks that it shouldn’t be that difficult. But alas. These films meet the standard they have set: there’s high octane action, cheesy jokes, and too many characters to care about any particular one. In that regard, The Expendables 3 delivers.

Calvary - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Calvary  

Starring Brendan Gleeson, Kelly Reilly, Chris O'Dowd, Aidan Gillen, and Dylan Moran

Directed by John Michael McDonagh

Rated R

Run Time: 101 minutes

Genre: Drama

Opens August 8th

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Religion remains one of the most fundamentally difficult topics to tackle in cinema. Make a preachy film and the filmmakers isolate the skeptics and nonbelievers; make an aggressively pointed film and the religious audience grows divided over whether to support or condemn the picture. Calvary is one of those rare occurrences, however, where a film both celebrates and lambasts religion, creating an impressively detailed canvas of humanity and the crisis of faith at our core. The film focuses on Father James (Brendan Gleeson), a good man that turned to religion after his wife tragically died and his daughter lost herself in the midst of her family falling apart. Even though James was far from a perfect man, he inherently hopes for the best for everyone and seeks happiness and forgiveness for those that need it. Ironic, then, that the film opens with a man in confession telling the father that he will be killed the following Sunday to send a message to the world.

The victim had been abused by the Catholic Church when he was younger. The film’s opening line is shocking: “I first tasted semen when I was seven years old.” Here, the story shows a good man listening to the rape that this innocent man faced day after day in his younger years. He blames religion and all men of faith for what happened to him, saying that a good man must die in order to make a strong statement about what went wrong. If a bad priest dies, then no one will care because, hey, he deserved it. But a good man dying? That’ll get everyone’s attention. James’ daughter, Fiona (Kelly Reilly), visits town after her father reels over the threat he just received. She recently attempted suicide and feels abandoned by James, who left to become a priest instead of loving his daughter when she needed it most. She refers to him as “father” once, coldly drawing a parallel between the distance she feels from him due to his fatherly status in the church.

Writer-director John Michael McDonagh builds the narrative around a whodunit foundation, but the story navigates episodic scenes that are defined by the supporting characters. Jack Brennan (Chris O’Dowd) is a butcher whose wife is cheating on him; she indulges in plenty of other men and some cocaine when given the chance. Dr. Frank Harte (Aidan Gillen) is an atheistic surgeon that mostly believes his patients will die. He’s a pessimist at heart that brutally attacks and belittles religion for fun. Michael Fitzgerald (Dylan Moran) is a wealthy, lonely man that cares more about artificial happiness than peace of mind. In one telling scene, he asks Father James if a painting he owns has any meaning. James asks, “Why does it have to have meaning?” Michael insists that everything has to have meaning in life or else, what’s the point? Fiona challenges that notion of meaning as well. In confession, James tells her that life has just as much meaning at 30 as it does at 60, but she thinks that’s all fluff without any substance.

Characters question the nature of religion and whether it is, indeed, a dying belief system. But Calvary isn’t a film that exists to tear apart religion at its seams; rather, it aims to introspectively look at a troubled protagonist that sees the doubt and hate in most people rather than the good. There’s a sense that humanity is inherently evil based on the narrative, a testament to Satanism more than any thread of Catholicism. Brendan Gleeson delivers one of the year’s best performances as James, providing him with a kindly invasive nature, using his religion as a means of exploring the tenets of being a good human being. McDonagh has managed to create a stunning feature marked by its challenge of religion as the ultimate punisher and judge. Characters remark that faith acts as a way for people to understand death, but if religion doesn’t mean more to the follower, then why believe in the first place? Calvary gravely voices that a religion’s dark past can overwhelm the present and make the most fervent believers question the foundation of their humanity.

The Hundred-Foot Journey - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

The Hundred-Foot Journey  

Starring Helen Mirren, Om Puri, Manish Dayal, and Charlotte Le Bon

Directed by Lasse Hallström

Rated PG

Run Time: 122 minutes

Genre: Drama

Opens August 8th

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

The Hundred-Foot Journey has one of the strongest first halves of any film in 2014, filled with strong social commentary, developed characters, and an exquisitely articulated love for food. It's a shame, then, that the second half falls into conventional, simplistic trappings and develops an aimless attitude for its final half hour. But the film is always marked by its charm and affable nature, using food as a means of culture and identity alongside terrifically defined lead characters. Helen Mirren is shown as the star of the film yet, while terrific, she is not the takeaway. Newcomers Manish Dayal and Charlotte Le Bon are delightful and fall into their roles with ease, with the ever-talented Om Puri providing a dynamic and funny supporting turn. As the story opens, Papa (Om Puri) leads the Kadam family away from their previously disrupted life and moves them from India to France in hopes of starting anew. A fire destroyed their restaurant and killed their mother, so they aim to find happiness in starting again on the French countryside.

Their car breaks down and they are passed by a young French woman named Marguerite (Charlotte Le Bon). She offers to help them and bonds with Hassan (Manish Dayal), to whom she offers cooking books and other guides to help him learn about French cuisine. With their love of food propelling their decisions, Hassan and his father decide to buy an abandoned restaurant against the will of the rest of the family. The place needs a lot of upkeep and will certainly need to advertise plenty to get the attention of French eaters. After all, an Indian restaurant in the middle of the French landscape won't exactly scream "appealing" to farmers and fine diners. To make matters worse, just one hundred feet across the road is a French restaurant with a Michelin Star, run with an iron fist by Madame Mallory (Helen Mirren). She ensures that everything goes her way and has one of the most certifiably telling palates in the country.

The story eventually moves toward the Kadam family's success and follows Hassan's journey to becoming a chef in Madame Mallory's kitchen. He's one of the most talented cooks she's seen, even if she refuses to admit it, and he knows how to win her over. Marguerite tells Hassan of how Madame tests cooks in only one way before deciding if they have the potential to be great: they must cook her an omelet and she will try one bite. In that bite, she can see their future as a chef. The narrative develops through these quirks and identifiers of character. Mirren makes Mallory a stone-faced enigma, borderline unreadable for the first half of the film, and it works perfectly for the narrative. As the story doles out more information on the inherent sadness behind her character, the story becomes stronger due to her character's actions having more gravitas. Her pursuit of love in the film's closing moments, however, fall flat in terms of impact because it takes an easier path for the character. Her pain drives her passion.

What shines through the film's late contrivances is its thematic consistency. These characters love food and aim to find a way to rekindle old feelings and tastes through their cooking; Hassan's pursuit leads to a stark realization that that idea may not be as it seems. Director Lasse Hallström, who has had enjoyably light efforts like Salmon Fishing in the Yemen over the past few years, shows a marked improvement in how to visually tell a story. The first half is marked by sweeping cinematography and fully realized scenes; the camera moves dynamically across the frame and showcases depth-of-field and mise-en-scene remarkably. And his actors, Manish Dayal and Charlotte Le Bon, are both strongly represented as equals in the food world that begin to fall in love over common interests. Yet the film meanders in the last half of its 122 minutes, taking easy paths and failing to challenge social stereotypes like it promises. Despite those inconsistencies, it still remains a pleasant, moving watch that excels due to its clear respect for the characters and their passions.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - Movie Review by Michael Clawson

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles  

Starring Megan Fox, William Fichtner, Will Arnett and Johnny Knoxville

Directed by Jonathan Liebesman

From Paramount Pictures

Rated PG-13

101 minutes

Releases on August 8th, 2014

by Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

Late in the rebooted Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movie, the knife-bedazzled villain Shredder says, “Tonight I dine on turtle soup.” Funny, because that’s exactly what I was thinking.

In one of the most block-headed reboots to come out of Hollywood’s trendy Reboot-a-Thon, the Michael Bay-produced Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles further perpetuates the principle of diminishing returns when it comes to re-imagining every design that was on your bed sheets when you were 7 years old. Recall how the original movies were silly fun and, yes, heaps full of stupid. Bay and director Jonathan Liebesman (Battle Los Angeles) vacuum all the color, visual gags and life from the franchise and supplant it with grit, haze and shadows.

No one is going to try and convince you the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise was quality cinema. It was early ’90s counterculture (“Cowabunga, dudes”) wrapped up in a blank check to the pizza industry. It was kitsch and camp, rubber-faced costumes and pre-X-Games skateboard stunts. It was the kind of movie that pre-teen You loved, but if you were to watch it today be kinda embarrassed about. But the movie had pluck, and the plot and characters made sense. (I can’t believe I’m defending those movies.)

In the reboot, the plot is about as subtle as stomping through rain puddles in a minefield. It opens on Megan Fox as a journalist — the movie’s first big joke. Fox is April O’Neil, a reporter at a New York City television station who says during a live broadcast, in Times Square no less, “Hey guys, I’m here in New York City …” Because all the viewers thought she was in Sheboygan, and she cleared that right up. The journalism stuff is all unintentionally hilarious, including a clueless editor played by Whoopi Goldberg, April’s fact-free brand of reporting, and poor Will Arnett who keeps using the phrase “put it to bed” totally unaware that it’s an actual news term that means the opposite of what he’s talking about.

April, the daughter of a dead scientist who experimented on turtles, gets a hunch about masked vigilantes trolling the Foot Clan, the city’s pesky paramilitary gang that operates in the shadows. She follows her make-believe leads until she finds the actual Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, hulking human-turtle hybrids with large prehistoric shells and color-coordinated masks. There is sword-swinging Leonardo (voiced by Johnny Knoxville), the leader; Raphael, the rebellious outcast; Michelangelo, the jokester and pizza fiend; and Donatello, the IT turtle who wears nerd glasses and a large headset array on his face.

The turtles are designed beefier and sturdier than the earlier movies. They’re given lots of sewer-scavenged accessories — a bamboo chestplate, recycled sunglasses, do-rags, shell necklaces and, because whatever, a rocket skateboard — that allow them a grittier fashion sense, albeit a homeless one. The four reptiles are also entirely CGI, giving them a creepy animated vibe. Making matters worse, none of the voice acting is convincing, or even memorable. They may be teens, but the turtles are voiced by gravel-voiced middle-aged men whose mothers couldn't pick their voices out in a vocal lineup.

Anyway, April and the turtles — and their rat leader, Splinter — team up to disassemble the Foot Clan and it’s shadowy leader, who you will never in a million years guess. (It’s William Fichtner and that was sarcasm.) Fichtner plays Eric Sacks, the Foot’s financier who only speaks in exposition-filled diatribes. He hatches a plot to gas all of Manhattan so he can sell everyone a poison antidote. Sacks, a name that is funnier the more I read it, is willing to kill a whole bunch of people so he can be “stupidly rich,” but he lives in a Bruce Wayne-sized mansion with helicopter pad, owns numerous multinational corporations and has the mayor on speed dial — his priorities are a little screwy.

Being that this is a Michael Bay movie, at some point a Transformer had to show up. This Transformer's name is Shredder. He’s a human ninja wrapped in a metal knife-suit that could easily be mistaken for one of Hasbro’s transforming robots. And like Bay’s Transformers, Shredder doesn't really have a form or shape, but rather metal tips and wings and appendages. Imagine taking a human shape and welding a junkyard to it … Shredder looks like that.

The film’s mush of gunfights and ninjutsu is appropriately idiotic — the only thing it inherited from the original series — and takes place in the turtle’s subterranean sewer plaza, high atop a skyscraper and skidding down the world’s longest mountain snow slide. There are hints of zaniness, though much of it feels like a rehash of the Transformers movies, now with more reptiles. Ninja Turtles might also have the worst photography of the year: much of the movie is foggy and dark, and the 3D doesn't brighten the mud. It also doesn't help that every camera gimmick is used, from shaky cam and its stepchild spinney cam to lens flares and haze filters. It’s as if Liebesman (let me repeat his credential here: Battle Los Angeles!!!) didn't want us to watch his movie at all, which is actually my recommendation.

Lastly, let me talk about Megan Fox. Critics sometimes joke about bad performances, and we’re prone to hyperbole, but I feel confident about this next sentence: acting doesn't get much worse than it does right here with Megan Fox. At one point she’s out-performed by a pizza box, and then tube of ooze, and then four CGI turtles who live in a tube made to funnel human excrement out of a city. We've know Fox was an awful actress for some time, but this confirms that she’s also a glutton for punishment. She spends much of the movie being thrown from one dangerous stunt to another, but the film always has time to admire her ass. “You’re a complicated chick,” Arnett’s character says as he drills holes through her jeans with his eyes. Fox had an epic falling-out with Bay during the Transformers movies, and supposedly she made nice to be cast here. If this is what happens when you apologize to Michael Bay, then he may never hear “I’m sorry” ever again.

So, who’s ready for that soup?

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles  

Starring Megan Fox, Will Arnett, William Fichtner, Whoopi Goldberg, and Abby Elliott

Directed by Jonathan Liebesman

Rated PG-13

Run Time: 101 minutes

Genre: Action-Adventure

Opens August 8th

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles serves fans of the material but doesn’t get past the unnecessary nature of this story being told from the beginning once again. How many reiterations of the same origin story can an audience handle? These are admittedly fun characters that interact well together and have the ability to entertain when given the right comedic material. One of the central problems with this latest reboot, though, is its inability to balance the overly dramatic nature of its evildoers and the silly and comedic ways of the titular reptiles. In the middle of serious conversations, such one-liners as “Tonight, we dine on turtle soup,” and “Time to take a bite out of the Big Apple,” are delivered with no style. Having these lines delivered by villains who take themselves seriously often feels strange and tonally off, particularly with comedic talents like Will Arnett and Whoopi Goldberg providing solid humor alongside the main characters.

The film opens with a rushed origin story of the turtles and how they came to be. According to this latest incarnation, the titular protagonists and a rat named Splinter were test subjects of a drug that supposedly had the ability to combat various diseases. The leader of this test trial, Eric Sachs (William Fichtner), hoped to make the world a better place by using this to prevent the potentially widespread nature of various illnesses, but a fire led to the destruction of all of their work and the loss of every life except for his own. The animals and research were presumed to be lost in the mix. But the turtles are still alive, as Donatello, Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Raphael live in the sewers under New York City with the guidance of their father figure, Splinter. They are told to never move up to ground level for the world will not understand them, but the emergence of the Foot Clan and their theft of chemical weapons leads to their need to help the world.

The only person that knows of their existence, though, is April O’Neil (Megan Fox), a journalist who works with Vernon (Will Arnett), a goofy cameraman that aims to win her over one of these days if she’d just give him a chance. Their investigation of the clan leads them to the turtles, and they all band together to stop Shredder, the arch nemesis of the reptiles with a desire to destroy New York. The story is flimsy and ultimately familiar for those who have seen any other versions of the story. Minor changes occur for the human characters and there are surprising attempts to make a narrative out of those outlying stories. The problem lies within the fact that they don’t make a compelling narrative, and distract from what everyone wants to see: the talking, mutated, pizza-loving, karate-fighting turtles. The film understands the characters and their relationship with one another: Raphael failing to get along with the leadership position of Leonardo, Michelangelo constantly hitting on April and doing whatever he wants, and Donatello clearly being the smartest one in the group.

Yet I accept that my viewing experience is something that will not affect those who want to see TMNT. Fans of the series will thoroughly enjoy the film. It delivers the requisite thrills, fun action scenes, and comic banter that people have grown to love from the series. But for me, it remains mostly empty entertainment that is certainly lifted by the updated humor and manically controlled action scenes. Will Arnett is delightful in a comic sidekick role that basically asks him to get away with his normal schtick in a family-oriented film. Visually the turtles are beautifully rendered with motion capture, but the 3D is rather horrid looking, either due to the presentation I saw or simply a disregard for crafting depth-filled frames. Jonathan Liebesman directs here, best known for making films that go “Kaboom!” often and loudly. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is one of those films, paced haphazardly and tonally inconsistent but not as awful as it should be. It’s merely a forgettable end-of-summer extravaganza.

Into the Storm - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Into the Storm  

Starring Richard Armitage, Sarah Wayne Callies, Matt Walsh, Max Deacon, and Nathan Kress

Directed by Steven Quale

Rated PG-13

Run Time: 89 minutes

Genre: Action/Thriller

Opens August 8th

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Into the Storm is a middling film that uses its spectacular special effects and sound design to distract from its bland, predictable narrative. Tornadoes will always look extraordinary no matter how they are presented; their sheer force is something that undoubtedly inspires awe to an outside observer, even though their destruction can lead to death and destroyed homes and families. The elements are ripe for environmental commentary and family drama. Yet they are presented on screen with no care for subtlety or inspiration, instead relying on familiar character tropes and plot points that never elevate the story past its admittedly intriguing premise. The film follows a group of storm chasers led by Pete (Matt Walsh), a determined man whose ultimate goal is to lead Titus (his tank of a storm-tracking vehicle) into the eye of a tornado. He is working on a storm documentary alongside Allison (Sarah Wayne Callies), a scientist who has spent three months away from her daughter and relies on numbers over instinct.

After four high school students die from a small tornado sweeping through Silverton, the documentarians decide to head to that town despite hearing about tornadoes potentially touching down in Riverside. A stormfront is approaching that looks ominous and ripe for the shots they need in their hunting. Allison’s insistence on Silverton having the meat of the action allows the story to connect with Donnie’s (Max Deacon). He’s a high school student who’s helping the vice principal/his father, Gary (Richard Armitage), shoot a time capsule documentary for the school. They are all preparing for graduation and Donnie has struggled to connect with his father after his mother died. He ends up skipping the graduation ceremony, electing for his brother (Nathan Kress) to shoot while Donnie runs off to help his crush, Kaitlyn (Alycia Debnam Carey), on her project. Sure enough, she and Donnie get stuck while the storm blows through the area, disrupting the graduation and tearing apart the family once more.

The story feels jumbled together and coincidental, which only becomes further enhanced by the introduction of two idiots that like to do stupid things for the Internet. For some reason, these comedic sidekicks pop up in a strange subplot that never really meshes with the narrative; they cross over from time to time, but most of their scenes involve moronic behavior and annoying traits. I suppose Into the Storm has that type of story that doesn’t particularly care about characters, though. That’s understandable. Every time the story wanders into melodrama, the filmmakers go for spectacle and aim big. They certainly succeed, since the tornadoes are impressively rendered and interact seamlessly with the characters on screen. There’s a sense of urgency and genuine stakes when they are presented in the background or coming straight toward the protagonists. The sound effects, particularly in Dolby ATMOS, are stunning and enveloping.

Despite this desire to create a new-age disaster film, though, director Steven Quale never develops a singular voice behind the screen. The direction sporadically moves from cinematic lenses to handheld work, often insisting that the narrative feel more grounded in reality by providing teenagers or the film within the film’s camera crew following the action. The inherent problem with this is that cinematic views are far more engaging and pronounced. They can define a scene and give the viewer a sense of language and understanding for the full narrative. So why ruin that with shoddy camera work? The cast is well rounded, with Matt Walsh and Sarah Wayne Callies in particular taking advantage of their characters and providing the audience with some semblance of emotionally driven excitement. The story falls apart too quickly in its conclusion, though, attempting to sum up the perseverance of Americans in the face of danger. It’s a muddled message belonging in a far different film, preferably not one with a tornado on fire.

Guardians of the Galaxy - Movie Review by Michael Clawson

Guardians of the Galaxy  

Starring Chris Pratt, Zoe Saldana, Dave Bautista and featuring the voices of Bradley Cooper and Vin Diesel

Directed by James Gunn

From Marvel Studios and Walt Disney Studios

Rated PG-13

121 minutes

Guardians of the Galaxy

by Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

The best joke of the summer has no punchline, but the setup is priceless: “A human, a raccoon, a green woman, a tree and a man incapable of understanding metaphors walk into a bar …” If you really need a punchline, then stay tuned to Guardians of the Galaxy, and the sequel, and The Avengers sequel, and the racoon spin-off, and the TV show, and the reboot 15 years from now, and read the comic book, and then its reboot. But that punchline will come, eventually.

Ignore my condescension about Marvel’s franchise stretching — I really did enjoy Guardians of the Galaxy and its wackadoo cast of characters, who might not be as mighty as the Avengers, but are infinitely more interesting, funny and present. Even the raccoon, who nature tells us should be picking through the trash and clinging to human faces in Farrelly Brothers comedies, is a breath of fresh air blown over Marvel’s stable of increasingly stale comic characters. If you’ll recall, Captain America slept through his last adventure, Iron Man seemed bored, Hulk is a pyrotechnic afterthought, and Thor is a third-rate thespian in an explosion-filled Hamlet. I’ve grown tired of these emotionally wounded men and their faltering identities, which is probably why James Gunn’s Guardians of the Galaxy feels so invigoratingly unconventional.

The movie is set in space as salvage captain and bounty hunter Peter Quill (Chris Pratt), aka Star-Lord, cruises through the galaxy looking for space junk to sell. When he finds a metallic sphere containing a piece of soul-sucking rock, he unleashes all kinds of problems that eventually unites him with green-skinned Gamora (Zoe Saldana), alien muscleman Drax (Dave Bautista), pint-sized Rocket Raccoon (voiced by Bradley Cooper) and Rocket’s tree friend Groot (voiced by Vin Diesel), who only says “I am Groot,” yet Rocket understands him like Timmy with Lassie. Each character has their own personality and quirks, and I found myself cheering on all of them. None of the characters have superpowers, another refreshing tweak for a comic-movie, which means they have to get out of jams using ingenuity and teamwork.

Their teamwork shines during several high-octane action sequences in a space-prison, which they escape from without the help of a man’s prosthetic leg, and a Mos Eisley-like trading post built inside the decaying brain of a deceased space titan. The locations are something else. In the brain station, Star-Lord, Rocket and Gamora jump into mining pods to engage starfighters on the edge of space. The scene features something I’ve never seen before in a sci-fi movie: Star-Lord crashes through the hull of a fighter and uses his mining pod’s robot arms to fly the enemy ship. It’s a man piloting a ship piloting another ship, and it’s appropriately zany. Later we meet a man who can control a single metal arrow with a whistle — I wonder what the whistle does during a basketball game.

Our five heroes are fighting back against Gamora’s ex-partner, Ronan, who is trying to recover the all-powerful rock, one of five Infinity Gems, for his boss Thanos, a stone-faced villain whose throne is definitely not eco-friendly — even the armrests have little jetpacks on them to provide comfy forearm support. Thanos is the main villain, but he’s only here to tease future films, ones that will feature even more Infinity Gems and eventually the Infinity Gauntlet, which is some kind of no-limit credit card or something. I enjoyed this movie, but this sequel baiting is annoying. Fanboys might adore it all, but it all feels kind of icky and corporate the way Marvel has spread its storylines out across so many different mediums. Somewhere a marketing director is praying to a plaque that reads “synergy.”

All that aside, though, Guardians of the Galaxy is a whopper of a franchise starter. And not since the Hellboy franchise have I been this excited about a comic-movie. Guardians soars mostly because the characters are likable and funny. And because it has a different tempo than the other earth-bound comic movies. But mostly because it’s funny. Pratt, eternally Andy Dwyer from Parks and Recreation, is the right fit here as the smart-ass space jockey. He’s a big doofus, of course, but he’s also macho enough to carry the action, which is intensely orchestrated into gunfights, space races, laser battles and martial art spectacles. He has a gag about a blacklight in his dirty space cruiser that must have shot soda out of a dozen noses in the theater I saw it in. In another great line, he says he comes from Earth, “a planet of outlaws — Billy the Kid, Bonnie & Clyde, John Stamos.”

Television wrestler Dave Bautista’s Drax will also be a fan favorite. Drax speaks, hears and thinks in literal terms — metaphor and symbolism are beyond him. When a prison inmate threatens one of our guardians with the old knife-across-the-throat gesture, Drax seems perplexed: “I will not drag my finger across his throat … But I will kill him.” Later, it’s implied sarcastically that nothing goes over Drax’s head. His response: “Of course nothing goes over my head because I will catch it.”

Add into all this Bradley Cooper’s exasperated snickering, Vin Diesel’s octave-busting “I am Groot,” and the lovely Zoe Saldana all covered in green skin, and you have a wild, free-wheeling sci-fi flick with a stellar cast, some genuine laughs and a damned fine soundtrack of ’70s rock. I can’t ask for any more from Marvel.

Guardians of the Galaxy - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Guardians of the Galaxy  

Starring Chris Pratt, Zoe Saldana, Dave Bautista, Lee Pace, Michael Rooker, Karen Gillan, and the voices of Vin Diesel and Bradley Cooper

Directed by James Gunn

Rated PG-13

Run Time: 121 minutes

Genre: Action-Adventure/Sci-Fi

Opens August 1st

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Guardians of the Galaxy is an irreverent, hilarious screwball comedy disguised as a superhero film. It's also a film about friendship and family, thrown into an action-adventure set in the outer stretches of space. While that makes the film sound like a convoluted mess, it's actually a celebration of cinematic farce and how a strange, crime-fighting pack of misfits come together to save the world. Acting as part of Marvel's Cinematic Universe, Guardians feels connected to previous efforts like The Avengers and Thor: The Dark World in terms of its otherworldly villains and nature. But strangely enough, Guardians is its own odd, singular entity in this connected world of superheroes. When a film contains a wise talking, genetically modified raccoon and a tree humanoid that are best friends, the story feels pretty damn original. Add onto that a twisted, satirical sense of humor and a great leading turn by Chris Pratt and Guardians turns into a magnificent beast.

The film opens with Peter Quill (Chris Pratt) as a young boy on Earth in the late 1980s, listening to a cassette titled "Awesome Mix Vol. 1." He waits outside of a hospital room when his father walks out to tell him that his mother wants to see him. A family stands around the cancer-ridden woman on the bed, who presents a final gift to her son before passing away. Peter, devastated that he didn't get to say goodbye properly, cries and runs outside, where he's lifted by a spaceship and leaves terrestrial Earth. This is Marvel's first cold open, making the story feel like its own narrative and displacing it entirely from the realm of superheroes like Iron Man and the Hulk. Peter acts as a space bandit when the narrative picks up later, traversing from planet to planet as Star Lord to claim various artifacts and sell them to the highest bidder. His most recent endeavor involves a highly protected orb that everyone in the galaxy seems to be after. So what does it contain?

Turns out it holds a mysterious gem known as an Infinity Stone, one of six in the universe that gives the holder a seemingly endless amount of energy and power. This is an important component of the Marvel comics, a pursuit led by Thanos, a character introduced in the credits of The Avengers. He was the force behind the attack on Earth and now the one guiding Ronan the Accuser (Lee Pace), a Kree who aims to destroy the planet of Xandar. Xandar is the planet where most of the core characters interact and the home of space-protecting NOVA, led by characters played by Glenn Close and John C. Reilly. There's a whole lot of plot going forward that I won't divulge, since it is a dense narrative full of many twists and side plots. As Quill goes to prison for attempting to steal the artifact, he meets up with Gamora (Zoe Saldana), an engineered soldier; Drax (Dave Bautista), a warrior aiming for vengeance; Rocket (voice of Bradley Cooper), a gun-wielding raccoon that loves the thrill of the moment; and Groot (voice of Vin Diesel), a slow-minded but emotionally thoughtful tree.

James Gunn's film relies entirely on the dynamic between those five misfits. They each have their quirks, with Peter being introduced as a womanizer and arrogant man and Drax as an attack-first, think-second individual that doesn't understand a lick of sarcasm or metaphors. Gamora is torn between her family divide and Rocket and Groot are outcasts in a world that doesn't accept them. The reason all of these character types work together is not only the screenplay put together by Gunn and Co., but also the lead performance from Chris Pratt. Peter is grounded in a level of emotion from the film's opening scene that pervades his every action for the rest of the film. Pratt embodies that perfectly, pushing down all of his emotions to the far reaches of his soul until they have to emerge. He's a hilarious actor, best known for his screwball work on Parks and Recreation, and he brings that creativity to the table here.

The comedy is developed visually and around the characters, attributing to the film's frantically controlled pace. There are many thrillingly staged scenes, with one in particular involving the intricate planning of their escape from prison only for the background to show Groot slowly preparing to mess everything up. Another one demonstrates the demented humor of Rocket, who insists that Peter go after others' personal items needed for various tasks when they aren't required at all, only existing for Rocket's amusement. Cooper is fantastic as the voice of Rocket, and Saldana is an underrated actress that makes Gamora a tragically flawed, likable, and strong female character. Visually the film is joyous, a saturated, densely-colored blast of spectacular special effects that utilizes 3D well, even if it remains inconsequential. Guardians of the Galaxy is unlike any other superhero film ever made, for it's a character-driven, narratively unhinged, extravagantly rendered explosion of creativity and wonder.

Get On Up - Movie Review by Michael Clawson

Get On Up  

Starring Chadwick Boseman, Dan Aykroyd, Nelsan Ellis, Octavia Spencer and Viola Davis

Directed by Tate Taylor

From Universal Pictures

Rated PG-13

138 minutes

Get On Up

by Michael Clawson of Terminal Volume

Like James Brown himself, Get On Up is a hot mess with a great soundtrack.

Not to speak ill of the dead — Brown died in 2006 — it’s just that the singer had some very public problems with drugs, alcohol and domestic violence. He was also a gifted showman, a riotous performer and a larger-than-life personality. Get On Up chronicles both sides of the Godfather of Soul’s life within a competing collection of scenes, time periods and themes cobbled together with little precision in Tate Taylor’s rudimentary bio-picture. Ray and Walk the Line this is not.

Holding the jumble together, though, is Chadwick Boseman as the irascible James Brown. We last saw Boseman in 42 playing Jackie Robinson, and here he again transcends the historical role to wear the many faces of James Brown, from his pampadour’d beginnings as a gospel-soul singer to his later performances with the jumpsuits and capes. Boseman’s Brown does something I wasn’t expecting, though I much appreciated: he breaks the fourth wall and talks to the audience.

“James Brown touched everything, every record,” he says referencing himself in the third person during the opening scenes in a House of Cards-like breakaway from the action. “James Brown brings the super-heavy funk, you know it.” Boseman winks and cringes and stares back at us, channeling Brown in effective little snippets of the man’s persona. In one monologue spoken directly to us, he explains how he worked around payola and other radio tricks to get his music on the air and in concert halls.

The movie begins near the end, with Mr. Brown — everyone had to call him that — strolling into his office to find that someone has “hung a number two in muh toilet.” Needless to say, I didn’t expect this introduction. Brown walks out to his truck, grabs a shotgun and fires it into the ceiling accidentally. Sirens start screaming in the distance. Then the movie cuts to the golden years, when Brown had a private jet, fur coats and briefcases full of money.

But don’t settle in, because it jumps again, this time back to his childhood in rural Georgia, where his mother and father abandoned him first with each other, then with an aunt at a brothel. It’s the early 1940s, and we see a very young James working at the brothel hustling Army soldiers on leave into the red-lit hallways and the waiting girls. One morning he wanders through town and stops at a church, where he witnesses the congregation, and their rapturous preacher, dancing in an evangelical daze, as if possessed by God. The movie doesn’t say it bluntly, but it makes nudging suggestions: James Brown found success when he crossed sex and gospel.

After several time warps through Brown’s life, Get On Up starts feeling very gonzo and self-aware. The fact that it’s all in non-consecutive snippets adds to that general style and tone. Some viewers will see sloppy filmmaking — and there is evidence there to support that — but squint just a little and the structure looks like wild improvisation, the kind that made Brown so brilliant on a stage. I enjoyed the hectic jumping around, even if it makes the film disjointed and non-linear. It turns events into context-free episodes that reveal his true character, like the time Brown sings in the prison medical center, or clocks his wife in the face while wearing a Santa Claus suit, or when he berates and fines his band members for minor infractions, or when he hijacks a Little Richard show. In another mini episode, Brown is flown into Vietnam to entertain the troops. The plane takes enemy fire coming in, and an unfazed James is chatting with the tense pilots — “You can’t kill the funk.” Though they aren’t always linked, these scenes start to form the sum of Brown’s frenzied legacy.

Some of these sequences add up to larger themes, but many don’t. A Boston concert after the death of Martin Luther King Jr. is ready to explode into a riot, but Brown admonishes and then rallies his fans to preserve the peace. Later, Brown is in the studio recording children singing “Say it loud / I’m black and I’m proud.” Surely, race and the Civil Rights struggle will play a larger role in the context of Brown’s life, right? Wrong. Race is a dead end, even as Allison Janney (and others) turn up to say the N word, or as James and his first band, the Famous Flames, play to a “honky hoedown” of white faces on television.

Another dead end: Brown’s confusing personal life, which included drugs, alcohol, stints in jail, various women and lots of wacky appearances and mugshots. A great deal of time is spent with musical partner Bobby Byrd, who took more abuse than he was being paid to receive. Byrd is played by Nelsan Ellis (Lafayette from True Blood), who needs to be in more movies. Dan Aykroyd also turns up as Brown’s manager and promoter, while Octavia Spencer plays the madame at the brothel and Viola Davis plays his mother.

So let’s talk about the music — it’s amazing. All the hits are here as well as some deeper cuts, and to hear them loud on the big screen is just electrifying. The songs have momentum, too, including in that Little Richard sequence or when Brown counts it off and drops into that super-heavy funk. Boseman’s lip-syncing is frequently off, but he more than makes up for it in his fancy footwork, spins, twists, windmills and splits. It was exhausting just watching him.

Is that enough to get you into Get On Up? If you like James Brown’s music, then that’s more than enough.

Get On Up - Movie Review by Eric Forthun

Get On Up  

Starring Chadwick Boseman, Nelsan Ellis, Viola Davis, Octavia Spencer, and Dan Aykroyd

Directed by Tate Taylor

Rated PG-13

Run Time: 138 minutes

Genre: Biography/Drama

Opens August 1st

By Eric Forthun of Cinematic Shadows

Get on Up is inconsistently entertaining but never less than spectacularly acted thanks to the tremendous lead performance from Chadwick Boseman. Tate Taylor's film is a rocky exploration of the iconic singer James Brown's career and of the social unrest surrounding such a complicated, tragic man who wanted to bring the funk into everyone's lives. The film opens with Brown in his 60s, looking overwhelmed at all of his thoughts before going on stage. Then it goes to him in his 50s as he wields a gun in one of the places he owns, asking about a woman who went to the bathroom as if she ran the place. Following that, the film jumps to various moments in time, whether that be him in his 30s with his family being interviewed at a Reno airport, or him in his 20s with the Famous Flames trying to make it big. The story is much like Brown's manic, aggressive personality, in that it's excitingly all over the place.

The film chronologically looks at Brown's upbringing in the 1930s through 1950s in a pre-Civil Rights America, with his family coming from extreme poverty and being defined by a negligent mother and abusive father. Brown eventually gets abandoned by both parents and left under the care of Aunt Honey (Octavia Spencer), a kind, brothel-operating woman that treats the young boy with respect and a stern hand. Eventually Brown gets arrested for attempting to steal a suit and is sentenced 5-13 years in jail, a horribly unfair charge that emphasizes the uncomfortably racist approach to lawmaking at the time. He's discovered as a musical talent by Bobby Byrd (Nelsan Ellis), the leader of a religiously based singing group that helps Brown earn his way out of jail. They form together and eventually call themselves "The Famous Flames," with Brown leading the way as the dynamic, talented frontman.

Brown will make it big, that much is clear, but the rest of the band is left to fend for themselves. A troubled relationship grows between Brown and Byrd, with the latter feeling resentful and betrayed by Brown. The leading man grows aggressively powerful and stubborn, his arrogance far exceeding his appreciation for his opportunities. Boseman allows the character to fully flesh himself out, with the script showing his sense of humor, his abusive relationships, and his trouble with drug addiction all as matters of fact. Taylor uses a distinctly impactful technique that can often define a film's success when used: breaking the fourth wall. Boseman's Brown addresses the audience, usually explaining to them the backing behind his decisions. Yet there is a key moment when, after hitting his wife and yelling at her for wearing provocative clothing, he glances at the camera and acts ashamed of his actions. Should we sympathize with a man that we come to appreciate over the film, especially after such callous, repulsive actions?

That's one of the striking questions that the film handles unevenly. One thing it handles perfectly? The music. Oh, the music. Chapters throughout the film are mostly named after his hit songs, with each one usually being shown in its entirety as a tremendous combination of music and dancing. That's where Boseman's performance comes together, since he appears to be a talented singer and dancer that perfectly fits Brown's style. He almost makes us forget about his personal issues when he dominates that stage. Taylor's film uses the music to coordinate with social issues, however sporadically effective they may be: Brown performing in Vietnam for black soldiers; the death of Martin Luther King Jr. coming a day before a concert in Boston; and Brown singing in a holiday sweater surrounded by, what he calls, a "hunky hoedown." The film tackles race issues head on and never relents.

The supporting performances are well-intentioned, but some fall flat due to the narrative's inability to close out certain stories. Viola Davis's turn as Brown's mother starts strong when she is seen as a trapped woman who finally escapes a tumultuous household, but she becomes defined by her negligence and becomes a woman viewed as opportunistic rather than loving. It's an effective role when used to understand Brown's loneliness and destruction of personal relationships, but not for her as a mother. Dan Aykroyd is particularly strong as a father figure who likes Brown and becomes his record producer. And Ellis is fantastic in an understated role, one that asks him to sell the feeling of betrayal with a stoic nature. Yet the film will always come back to Boseman, the dominating, luminous force behind the Godfather of Soul. He's magnetic and dynamic, with every moment he's on screen feeling authentic and like a true embodiment. Get on Up isn't a fully formed feature, but it's backed by a great lead performance that articulates music's importance on the public and their culture.