Annapolis
reviewed by Sam Osborn of www.samseescinema.com
rating: 1.0 out of 4
In creating an inspirational film, there must be inspiration behind the pen of the writer and, also, behind the lens of the camera. Annapolis is the laziest of feel-good cinema; with each element of its narrative loosely tacked upon the celluloid, every line of dialogue following a woefully well-trodden trail of story arcs. The film fails to even decide in its direction; stumbling about its indecision on what to pull into focus: the Naval Academy or the hyped-up boxing tournament. Both stories are tired, one from its hammering in the news, and the other from its walk around the block in last year's multiplexes. Interest in a patriotic military is low, with over 60% of audiences disapproving of the current political spread, and as the much talked-about box office failure of Cinderella Man has indicated, audiences are now left cold by boxing films.
Maybe Annapolis' release is somehow timely; a cinematic opportunity to boost morale among citizens about the situation in Iraq. But the film seems to warily circle the Naval Academy, making an effort to avoid blatant stabs at patriotism and not make much rah-rah sentiment with its story. And if this all sounds contradictory it's frankly no fault of mine, but the fault of the film's. Director Justin Lin (Better Luck Tomorrow) seems inclined to cover everything up and not allow us to witness its atrocity. Each of the film's ideas is smothered just when they seem poised to bloom; but maybe this is because each of Annapolis' ideas has potential for controversy. If Lin were to focus on the students' work at the Academy, critics would bemoan the film as gratingly patriotic, but if he were to downplay every aspect of the military, other critics would call him un-American. Instead, Lin timidly finds a blurry middle-ground that satisfies absolutely nothing and results in films that's tired and plain.
Annapolis opens promisingly enough: in a smoky boxing ring surrounded by metal folding chairs and weary old men. In the ring is Jake Huard (James Franco) rising from an extreme close-up of his eyes and to his feet from a near knockout. One man slaps the palm of his neighbor, deciding now that Jake hasn't a chance. But Jake pulls through and rallies against his opponent, resulting in the paid man returning his money to his now smug neighbor. Donnie Wahlberg sits calmly in the audience, posture straight as a board's, as any respectable Lieutenant Commander's would be. But Jake isn't a boxer, instead working as a welder with his father, burning away at the Navy's newest cruiser.
The day after the fight, Wahlberg's Lt. Cmdr. Burton offers him the last remaining spot at the Naval Academy. Jake had applied but been wait-listed and resigned to working with his father. But now at the Academy, Jake must succeed to prove to his blank-faced dad that he's worth some pride. The antagonist is his direct superior, Cole, played by another B-list actor, Tyrese Gibson. Cole doesn't speak much, but has knack for sneering and flexing his muscles in the ring. Another of his superiors is Ali, the plucker of Jake's heartstrings, played by Jordana Brewster in an unlikely but smoothly convincing performance. Jake isn't the most subservient of students and lacks in naval trivia and calculus proficiency, often resulting in punishment for his entire team. Jake doesn't react well to these reprimands and takes them personally, questioning whether or not he ever deserved acceptance to the school at all. This boils down to Jake counting down the days until he can pop Cole in the kisser at the end-of-year boxing tournament.
In films about teenagers and young adults, I often find myself wishing the director had had the nerve to cast actual teenagers in the roles of teenaged characters. But due to financial obligations, roles will be forever filled with twenty-something actors playing down to eighteen or fifteen. And with Annapolis, despite the story's impotence and story faults numbering more than my fingers can count, it would excessively benefit from a cast of up-and-coming teenagers. Jake and Ali's relationship would heighten into something risky and vibrantly sexual, an eighteen year old fraternizing with his direct superior. And Jake's rivalry with Cole would develop more aggressively, adding muscle and feeling to scenes where an eighteen year-old would take the ring with a beefy twenty-something. Even the back-and-forth shooting of dialogue between Jake and his roommates would take on a new air of reality, becoming less of a scripted line-reading, and more like a few guys sittin' around cracking bad jokes. The rawness of this youth could have even brought Lin's film into satisfying territory, where his tepid middle-ground storytelling might have been eclipsed by some honest character arcs.
Instead, Annapolis is the uninspired inspirational film; a timorous bore of average proportions. It's pointless and full of indecision. Its boxing scenes are apathetic to creativity, its romance buoyed by safety restraints, and its father-son sentiment unearned. Sometimes Annapolis reminded me of a Marines TV spot, when Lin attempts to hone in on life at the Academy. The scenes are hard-rocking montages that work less like plot developing sequences and more like government funded commercials. I kept expecting Jake to stand straight, put his hand to his head in salute, and for the throaty voice to come over in narration: "The Few, The Proud, The Marines." But it never does, and when the credits roll we're reminded that this is no innocent plug for the military, but one of the most haplessly incapable films we'll see in 2006.
-www.samseescinema.com
reviewed by Sam Osborn of www.samseescinema.com
rating: 1.0 out of 4
In creating an inspirational film, there must be inspiration behind the pen of the writer and, also, behind the lens of the camera. Annapolis is the laziest of feel-good cinema; with each element of its narrative loosely tacked upon the celluloid, every line of dialogue following a woefully well-trodden trail of story arcs. The film fails to even decide in its direction; stumbling about its indecision on what to pull into focus: the Naval Academy or the hyped-up boxing tournament. Both stories are tired, one from its hammering in the news, and the other from its walk around the block in last year's multiplexes. Interest in a patriotic military is low, with over 60% of audiences disapproving of the current political spread, and as the much talked-about box office failure of Cinderella Man has indicated, audiences are now left cold by boxing films.
Maybe Annapolis' release is somehow timely; a cinematic opportunity to boost morale among citizens about the situation in Iraq. But the film seems to warily circle the Naval Academy, making an effort to avoid blatant stabs at patriotism and not make much rah-rah sentiment with its story. And if this all sounds contradictory it's frankly no fault of mine, but the fault of the film's. Director Justin Lin (Better Luck Tomorrow) seems inclined to cover everything up and not allow us to witness its atrocity. Each of the film's ideas is smothered just when they seem poised to bloom; but maybe this is because each of Annapolis' ideas has potential for controversy. If Lin were to focus on the students' work at the Academy, critics would bemoan the film as gratingly patriotic, but if he were to downplay every aspect of the military, other critics would call him un-American. Instead, Lin timidly finds a blurry middle-ground that satisfies absolutely nothing and results in films that's tired and plain.
Annapolis opens promisingly enough: in a smoky boxing ring surrounded by metal folding chairs and weary old men. In the ring is Jake Huard (James Franco) rising from an extreme close-up of his eyes and to his feet from a near knockout. One man slaps the palm of his neighbor, deciding now that Jake hasn't a chance. But Jake pulls through and rallies against his opponent, resulting in the paid man returning his money to his now smug neighbor. Donnie Wahlberg sits calmly in the audience, posture straight as a board's, as any respectable Lieutenant Commander's would be. But Jake isn't a boxer, instead working as a welder with his father, burning away at the Navy's newest cruiser.
The day after the fight, Wahlberg's Lt. Cmdr. Burton offers him the last remaining spot at the Naval Academy. Jake had applied but been wait-listed and resigned to working with his father. But now at the Academy, Jake must succeed to prove to his blank-faced dad that he's worth some pride. The antagonist is his direct superior, Cole, played by another B-list actor, Tyrese Gibson. Cole doesn't speak much, but has knack for sneering and flexing his muscles in the ring. Another of his superiors is Ali, the plucker of Jake's heartstrings, played by Jordana Brewster in an unlikely but smoothly convincing performance. Jake isn't the most subservient of students and lacks in naval trivia and calculus proficiency, often resulting in punishment for his entire team. Jake doesn't react well to these reprimands and takes them personally, questioning whether or not he ever deserved acceptance to the school at all. This boils down to Jake counting down the days until he can pop Cole in the kisser at the end-of-year boxing tournament.
In films about teenagers and young adults, I often find myself wishing the director had had the nerve to cast actual teenagers in the roles of teenaged characters. But due to financial obligations, roles will be forever filled with twenty-something actors playing down to eighteen or fifteen. And with Annapolis, despite the story's impotence and story faults numbering more than my fingers can count, it would excessively benefit from a cast of up-and-coming teenagers. Jake and Ali's relationship would heighten into something risky and vibrantly sexual, an eighteen year old fraternizing with his direct superior. And Jake's rivalry with Cole would develop more aggressively, adding muscle and feeling to scenes where an eighteen year-old would take the ring with a beefy twenty-something. Even the back-and-forth shooting of dialogue between Jake and his roommates would take on a new air of reality, becoming less of a scripted line-reading, and more like a few guys sittin' around cracking bad jokes. The rawness of this youth could have even brought Lin's film into satisfying territory, where his tepid middle-ground storytelling might have been eclipsed by some honest character arcs.
Instead, Annapolis is the uninspired inspirational film; a timorous bore of average proportions. It's pointless and full of indecision. Its boxing scenes are apathetic to creativity, its romance buoyed by safety restraints, and its father-son sentiment unearned. Sometimes Annapolis reminded me of a Marines TV spot, when Lin attempts to hone in on life at the Academy. The scenes are hard-rocking montages that work less like plot developing sequences and more like government funded commercials. I kept expecting Jake to stand straight, put his hand to his head in salute, and for the throaty voice to come over in narration: "The Few, The Proud, The Marines." But it never does, and when the credits roll we're reminded that this is no innocent plug for the military, but one of the most haplessly incapable films we'll see in 2006.
-www.samseescinema.com