jaesboxer Reviews

Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith (2005)

The Revenge of George Lucas

[10/10 · 26 August 2006]

The third time's the charm. In his final Star Wars film, George Lucas redeems himself completely for his failures in Episode I and II. Revenge of the Sith is a film worthy to stand alongside the original trilogy. It is, in fact, perhaps the best of all (though I still consider Empire STrikes Back for this position). This is the one fans have been waiting for: the transformation of Anakin Skywalker into Darth Vader; his turn to the Dark Side; his duel with Obi-Wan; and the overthrow of the Galactic Republic, and the destruction of the Jedi. This is by far the darkest Star Wars movie. All the juvenile caterings of the previous two prequels are gone, and the film might actually be the first Star Wars movie unsuitable for younger children. I think this is the story George Lucas has been wanting to tell all along. His previous two prequels, notable only for their level of mediocrity and digital windowdressing, are, in retrospect, nothing more than the motions needed to get to this point. It seems to me that George Lucas (the creative genius George Lucas, that is), must have been asleep for the previous two, using them as the means to an end. And what an end! To start off with, Episode III is probably the best written of any of the Star Wars films. It is also the best acted. Hayden Christiansen, whose performance in Episode II carried all the weight and charm of a wooden stick, is born anew in this film. Previously, it seemed impossible that this teen hearthrob could become the menacing Darth Vader. But, sporting longer hair and a badboy scar, Christiansen carries it off admirably. Also notable for her transformation is Natalie Portman. In the last film, their love affair was completely unbelievable, their chemistry zero, and their dialogue embarrassingly bad. This time round, it works. Portman gives an excellent portrayal of the tragic character Padme, forced to watch the man she loves transformed into a monster. Ewan MacGregor, the only actor who actually acted in the previous two films, once again takes the prize for best performance. His chemistry with Christiansen, already good in Episode II, is superb, giving real depth to the relationship. The most remarkable element of the film's writing may be the actual manner in which Skywalker is turned to the Dark Side, which is completely believable. There is a certain morbid satisfaction in seeing the bad guys win for once, too. Anakin's journey down the dark path is conditioned, on one hand by his love of Padme and his fear of losing her, and on the other by his distrust of the Jedi, and his anger towards them. The final factor is the seduction of the chancellor Palpatine, later to become the GAlactic Emperor, who uses Anakin's feelings of fear and anger to transform him into a Sith Lord. In Return of the Jedi, the Emperor Palpatine was a truly great villain, a true vision of evil. Twenty years later, Ian McDiarmid darns the cloak once again. To me, he is one of the greatest strongpoints of Episode III. Though he has been in the previous films as chancellor, and as the hidden Darth Sidious, it is here that he reveals himself as a force of pure evil, performing a brilliant coup-de-grace on the Jedi, seducing Anakin with an almost Hannibal Lecter-like power of psychology and language, and, for the first time, showing his real power as a Sith Lord in two memorable battles against Mace Windu and Yoda. The action in this film is top-notch, from the epic opening rescue mission, to the apocalyptic final duel. As special treats, we get a four lightsaber wielding Jedi droid, Wookiee warfare and the introduction of Chewbacca, and, for those fans who loved Yoda's lightsaber fight in Episode II, an epic duel between Yoda and the Emperor himself, featuring lightsabers, acrobatics, lightning and all. The special effects are not nearly as good as something as say, Lord of the Rings, but the movie's action sequences are too much fun to care. As the grand finale, we get the battle that all Star Wars fans have been waiting for: the Battle of the Heroes between Obi-Wan Kenobi and Darth Vader over pits of lava. This final duel, which is intercut with the Darth Sidious vs. Yoda duel, is the best there has ever been. Legendary among Star Wars fans, it is truly something to behold. Finally, Episode III ends with the birth of Luke and Leia, the rebirth of a disfigured Anakin into the masked Darth Vader, the beginning of the construction of the Death Star, and the delivery of Luke to Tatooine, linking two trilogies together, and completing the Star Wars legacy, a legacy more alive in this film than it has been since the original trilogy, and proof of Lucas' genius as a filmmaker.

King Kong (2005)

Kong is King

[10/10 · 28 April 2006]

Peter Jackson again proves that, given a camera, a whole lot of money, and Andy Serkis, he can do the impossible, and redefine cinema. Never being a big fan of the original King Kong, I must say, I had my doubts about this one. Even though I am a huge Lord of the Rings fan, I mean, come on: this is a story about the doomed love between an woman and a 25-foot ape! With movie audiences growing more cynical year after year, there didn't seem a chance that the 1933 story could be redone effectively today. And, lets not forget, that Jackson was using this gamble to follow up his Academy Award winning completion of the greatest trilogy in film history! Yet here it is: Peter Jackson does it again, and King Kong shuts the mouths of all but the most cynical movie patrons with one mighty roar! The accomplishments of this film are manifold: it is an update (not so much a remake) of a classic film which, thanks to aging effects, has lost almost all of its impact on modern viewers; it proves that the simple, wonderful movie magic of classic films is just as strong today (in the right hands) as it was decades ago; it manages to bring forth a great sense of awe in the viewer, and reminds us of what thrilled us about movies when we were kids; and last, but certainly not least, it wipes out the line, already blurred by Gollum, between computer animation and reality, with what is the single best effect in film history (and I'm not overstating), Kong. The original Kong being Jackson's favourite film, this is a labour of love, a film that never declares, "See how much better we can do this today?", but reverentially looks to its source substance for guidance. Very of the story and characters have been changed. The film runs double the length, but that seems to Jackson's standard running time. The original film is what made Jackson want to be a filmmaker, and this remake will show to later generations, far too jaded to be effected by the 1933 work, what it was that Jackson saw in the story of the love between a woman and a giant ape. The film is perfectly balanced, combining adrenaline-overdose action with a tragic love story. Walking out of the theatre, with tears still staining my cheeks, I was astounded when I stepped back and considered the emotional power generated by this seemingly ridiculous "beauty and the beast" concept. On the human scale, the actors are very good: Jack Black gives a truly terrific performance as the opportunistic film-making slimeball Carl Denham, one of the truly great "love to hate" characters. Adrien Brody is surprisingly decent as a male action lead, although the romance between Ann and he never actually catches hold (Jackson's weakness seems to be Human love stories, i.e. Arwen and Aragorn in Lord of the Rings). Naomi Watts is perfect as Ann Darrow. Considering the fact she spent much time acting against a blue screen or with a spandex cloaked Andy Serkis, she manages to bring realism to the relationship with Kong. This relationship is not so much romantic (as in the original), or a case of a giant ape drooling over a scantily clad girl, but very simply, one of a sad, middle-aged, lonely ape who just needs a hug. The writing, done by the same trio that penned LOrd of the Rings, is snappy at parts, and cringe-inducing at others. Granted, Jackson and crew are not the greatest writers working in film today, but most of the film flows smoothly, with certain corny lines being easily overlooked in view of the whole. The action in the film is astounding. "Pelennor Fields" astounding. The one characteristic all the denizens of Skull Island have in common is being giant. Giant apes, dinosaurs, giant reptiles, giant insects, giant spiders, giant bats. And, like the creatures, the action is larger than life, leaving the head of even the most avid adrenaline jockey spinning. The battle used in publicity for the film between Kong and THREE T-Rexs for the possession of Ann, is, quite simply, the dream-come true for the ten year old boy inside us all. Any ten year old, however, would be ill-advised to witness the Spider Pit sequence immediately following, a sequence of great infamy that was cut from the original, and offers to anyone with even the smallest dislike of insects, a skin crawling time, with the death of Andy Serkis' human character being a highly of nausea-inducing cinema (One word: Tapeworms). The later action in Kong's rampage through New York is equally impressive, with the climactic battle a top the Empire State Building. The single greatest achievement of King Kong however, is to have eliminated, for the first time, the line between computer effects and reality. Having already created Middle-earth out of New Zealand, and rendered a human Andy Serkis into the digital masterpiece Gollum, we would expect nothing less from WETA, Serkis and Jackson this time round. As in Lord of the Rings, the greatest performance in King Kong goes to Serkis masked in computer Kong. Having lived in Rwanda with the apes, Serkis captures the mannerisms, facial expressions, and emotions of an ape to an eerie perfection (in the scenes in which Kong is captured, and later killed, one almost wants to cry out, "Animal cruelty!"). While Gollum pushed the envelope of computer realism, Kong stamps it, packages it, and mails it home. There is literally not one shot in the entire film in which Kong looks anything other than real, and in some, so real as to be disturbing. All in all, this is a masterpiece, and with a now near religious faith in Peter Jackson, I can say that if this man announced he was going to remake Gone with the Wind, I wouldn't harbour an instant of doubt.

Naqoyqatsi (2002)

Beauty without depth

[8/10 · 9 March 2006]

Following the masterpiece Koyaanisqatsi and the disappointing sequel Powaqqatsi, here we have Naqoyqatsi, "Life as War". Godfrey Reggio concludes his groundbreaking trilogy with a bang, but its a bang that leaves no echo. The film reaches levels of aesthetic perfection never dreamed of in the previous ones, but looking beyond the surface, one finds only a weak remnant of the poetry that tied together the first film and made it the masterpiece that it is. The problem is simple: both Powaqqatsi (Life in Transformation) and Naqoyqatsi (Life as War) are simply elaborations upon the theme of Koyaanisqatsi (Life out of Balance). Having squeezed this lemon for so long, there is little left, and one finds mostly pulp here. Yet the film is a masterpiece in its own right, albeit a shallow one. The Qatsi films have essentially been audio-visual feasts, and this one is so intricately polished that it soars above the previous two. While the previous two films relied on brilliant cinematography to weave there unreal realities, this one relies on digital effects and editing. Much is computer animated, and most real shots are altered with inverted negatives and colour saturation. Less credit belongs to the cinematographers than to the editors and the digital mixers. The effect of this, however, is a roller-coaster ride of earth shattering visuals, interwoven with Philip Glass' masterful score. Glass' music has always been elemental to the Qatsi trilogy, and here we have (in my opinion, being a huge Glass fan) his best work yet, not only in film, but in any medium. Working with cellist Yo-Yo Ma, Glass creates what one critic accurately defined as "the first great cello concerto of the twenty-first century." With is organ/vocal minimalism, the score of Koyaanisqatsi was an esoteric Glass masterpiece, and, as with all his music, an experiment of harmony that some may have found alienating. In Naqoyqatsi, he achieves the perfect blend of mainstream/minimalist and creates a audio experience that, while unmistakably Glass, is receptive of larger audiences. To put it simply, like the film, this is Glass' most polished score, refined and tuned to perfection, and, while less experimental than his earlier work, is more satisfying. As with the previous films, the music and the visuals are interdependent. They respond to each other and are built upon one another. Thus, this is a fantastic aesthetic experience. After finishing Naqoyqatsi, one feels as if they have just taken an acid trip around the world. The film's major flaw is that, after the dazzling effect wears off, one finds little of value concealed behind the texture. Whereas Koyaanisqatsi achieved an unbelievable poetic flow, Naqoyqatsi is disjointed. Koyaanisqatsi evolved along a single thread, from the perfection of natural processes through the human world, through the Grid of human patterns, and back to the natural processes that eventually balance all excesses. Here, there are several fragmented segments, each one with a theme and pattern, but bearing little relation to one another, and with almost no sense of flow. In Primacy of Number, we have a dazzling display of a world as a binary code, almost like a real version of the Matrix, showing how all things are reduced to ones and zeros. In Massman, there is a close look at the human form (unlike anything in the Qatsi trilogy), and a shattering look at our desire to go faster, stronger, higher, concluding with the details of human emotions that appear through body language. The chapter New World is self explanatory, and is one of two cello intervals that occur in the film (the other being Old World). Religion is the artistic highlight of the film, accompanied by one of Glass' great works, showing the religion of the modern world, with devotion to country, sports teams, celebrities, money, and the new world order. Media Weather is a dull collection of images of world figures. The climax of the film comes in the Intensive Time and Point Blank segments. The former, accompanied by a brilliant soprano vocalist and cello, shows the accelerating pace of the modern world, moving toward a dim perfection, yet unheeding of the toll it may take. Point Blank is the one chapter in "Life as War" that actually deals with conflict. It is the most brutal, and unsettling item in the Qatsi trilogy, a frenetic display of hatred and violence that exists in the modern world. Finally, the Vivid Unknown (the best cello work of the film) shows us heading towards an unseen but trusted barrier. It is primarily a poetically rich display of images of space exploration, accompanied by aerial footage of skydivers falling towards earth.

The Shining (1980)

The Shining is one of Kubrick's best

[10/10 · 5 March 2006]

The Shining is one of only a handful of Stephen King adaptations that is as successful as a film as as a book (others include, in my opinion, Carrie, Misery, the Shawshank Redemption, the Green Mile, Stand by Me, and Dolores Claiborne.) It is, however, vastly different from the book (Stephen King was highly disatisfied with it), and belongs more to Kubrick's genius than King's. Numerous story changes are made, and there are numerous additions. But the end result of both is the same: a terrifying masterpiece. Jack Nicholson gives his greatest villain performance (not including the Joker) as Jack Torrance, hamming up the role and playing it so far over the top that it is great fun to watch. The story concerns Jack Torrance, his wife Wendy (Shelley Duvall, not a great choice for the role), and his son Danny, who serve as winter caretakers to the secluded Overlook Hotel in the Rockies. The hotel, of course, is haunted, and its aura of death and terror soon intoxicate Jack, driving him into a murderous, cabin-fever rage to kill his family. In his typical style, Kubrick takes his time, with long shots, scenes without dialogue, and visions of the horror that the hotel represents. I have always found Kubrick a sort of icy genius, and his films for the most part are coldly intellectual. The Shining is no exception. One feels detached from the characters, as much as they are detached from each other. This matters little however. If I had to choose one word to define the Shining, I would say disturbing. It is not a slasher flick, and gets its tension from the images and situations it presents instead of from characters. There are great images that have become classic in film history ("Here's Johhhhny!!!", "All Work and No Play Make Jack a Dull Boy,", the two dead girls, room 237, the sea of blood in the elevators, Redrum, the fight on the stairs, the ghost ballroom, and the chase through the hedge maze). Ultimately, it is a horror masterpiece, which, though utterly different from the source material, is just as terrifying as King's classic book.

Gangs of New York (2002)

A Magnificent Failure

[6/10 · 4 March 2006]

Watching Gangs of New York is sort of like witnessing a beautiful ship sink under its own weight. The film is, in my opinion, ultimately a failure, but it is a spectacular failure. It feels incomplete, crude, almost a prototype of a masterpiece. Martin Scorsese continues to move away from his gritty roots toward the artistic and the epic, a field that he in which he has already proved himself with the beautiful masterpiece Kundun. Gangs of New York is a story of vengeance, set against the backdrop of the 1860s New YOrk, a city divided into tribes at war. Leonardo DiCaprio gives a surprisingly decent performance as the young Amsterdam Vallon, whose father, the "Priest" Vallon (Liam Neeson, in a great cameo), was killed in an epic battle between the IRish immigrants and the "Natives" by William Cutting, "Bill the Butcher." DiCaprio proves that he can indeed act beyond the range of the Titanic sweetheart, and gives impetus for his superior role in The Aviator. The acting honours of this film, however, go to Daniel Day-Lewis as Bill. This is Lewis' best performance yet, and in this film he stands as a Titan amongst minnows, and creates a character so complex and fascinating that one cannot help but think this film is unworthy of him. Bill is a born killer, who uses his butcher knives and knowledge of anatomy to stike down his enemies in single blows. The film is pretty much divided into two acts: the first is brilliant, the second is a disaster. In the first, we have a story of vengeance and valour. Perhaps Bill's most fascinating quality is his similarity to the knights of old. He and his enemy, Priest Vallon, were both men of warrior character, two similar natures placed on opposites sides of the battlefield. The respect that Bill renders to the memory of Priest Vallon as the only great warrior he ever knew, a respect and amity free of hatred now that his foe is vanquished, forestalls Amsterdam's ideas of revenge. Amsterdam finds himself drawn to the man who killed his father, recognizing in him the same great character of his father. He ultimately is protected under the wings of the dragon, and is driven near madness by the affection which he feels coupled with hatred. The second act begins after Amsterdam reveals his real nature, and is set up against the Butcher. From here on, the film degenerates into a typical story of war. Though this is weak, its promise of an apocalyptic war between the two factions keeps the tension high. It is utterly inexcusable that Scorsese robs us of this final pleasure, substituting a violent riot that extinguishes all the momentum of the last two hours, and leaves the final fight between Amsterdam and the Butcher awkward and unsatisfying. Ultimately, this is a film worth seeing, and one cannot help but lament the failure of the masterpiece that could have been.

Ran (1985)

The Greatest Shakespearian Adaptation of All Time, and the Crown Jewel of Akira Kurosawa's Career

[10/10 · 15 February 2006]

Of all Shakespeare's plays, none excels King Lear. Whilst Hamlet is the true masterpiece of language and poetry, Lear has a true human story unlike anything else in the Bard's writings. And here is the only film adaptation to do this great work justice, a Japanese film by master director Akira Kurosawa. This is the pinnacle of Kurosawa's career. It is a work that directly captures the tragedy of Shakespeare, and is final proof that Kurosawa was unequaled when it came to blending Eastern and Western styles. The story of Lear is transmuted into the story of Lord Ichimonji, who foolishly draws his flattering sons near him, whilst banishing the only one to speak the truth. What ensues is the chaos (Ran) of war, as a clan that Ichimonji built out of blood and death erupts in a power struggle. Ichimonji is the perfect version of Lear, considered by most Shakespearian actors as the hardest and most noteworthy role to play. Here are preserved all the classic elements: the loyalty of the third son (Saburo/Cordelia) in the face of insurmountable treachery, the crazy old man (Ichimonji/Lear) and the wise fool that follows him. Other elements are added, such as the Lady Macbeth like Lady Kaede, whose hatred fuels the ravages of war, the gentle Lady Sue and her blind brother Tsurumaru, both victims of Ichimonji's former wrath. In this film, Kurosawa gives birth to the brilliant vision that is worthy of King Lear. Its imagery is unmatched, and certain scenes, such as the Siege of the First Castle, are remarkable for their savagery, poetry, and tragedy. The final Battle of the Four Armies is unsurpassed in film. For people familiar with the techniques of Sun-tzu, this offers a fascinating glimpse of his strategy in action, with much more depth and planning than the bloodfests in Braveheart or Gladiator. And though the Seven Samurai is still his greatest work, Ran stands as Kurosawa's most complete masterpiece, an epic, a tragedy, and a truly masterful film that shows the vicious circle of destruction that arises out of war and ambition.

The Matrix Revolutions (2003)

A Vast Improvement!

[8/10 · 3 February 2006]

This is better. Much better. Since the Matrix Reloaded never made any attempt at a conclusion (even a temporary conclusion such as those found in Kill Bill or Lord of the Rings), it ended in a slump. And that's exactly where this film starts off. In fact the first half hour is the weakest of the trilogy, as the Wachowski's try to work out what feels like a recycled part of the last film, the conclusion that never was. Here, we are forced to endure another horrific encounter with the Merovingian (though thankfully, not nearly as long), a lobby scene sequence that is pathetic after the action we have seen in the first two films, a useless subplot involving the Trainman, and Neo trapped in Mobil (Limbo) station. This is weak, very weak. But once the film gets past it, it takes on a new life. And the results are fantastic. The Wachowskis, having decided that more is better should be the motto of the second Matrix, take a daring, dangerous, and entirely original way with this one. After the first half hour, there is no Matrix scene until the conclusive battle between Neo and Smith. Thus there is none of the mind-bending, gravity-defying action, either. And none of the philosophic pontificating that marred the second film. This takes place almost entirely in the Real World, and, though a daring move, it is a successful one. The characters take on more life here. Indeed, one could even go so far as to say they do some acting. In this film, Neo and Trinity's relationship for the first time becomes something other than a plot gimmick, and there are actually moments of chemistry. Morpheus, though a side-seat driver for the entire film, gains much more humanity after his disillusionment (it also helps that there are not philosophy lectures for him to recite.) Many of the lesser characters are rendered in three-dimensions this time (the captain of the Hammer, Niobe, Link). As for the Oracle, the sudden cast change after the death of the first one for this film does not hurt it at all. In fact, this new Oracle is much more compelling than the original, and (partially because she has a much bigger role), is the one I now think of when I think of the Matrix. First prize still has to go to Hugo Weaving, who continues his transformation in the form of Smith to diabolical levels. He is exaggerated and overplayed, in a manner that is totally successful (one is reminded of Jack Nicholson). HIs twisted sense of humour is now in perfect balance with his cold, machine like evil. Also remarkable is the actor who portrays Bane, a human occupied by Smith. He renders Hugo Weaving's mannerisms so perfectly, one thinks it is Hugo Weaving in disguise (it might be, I haven't checked.) As for the action, it is amazing. The Battle for the Docks is something completely new, and absolutely terrifying. Indeed, (and as a huge Lord of the Rings fan, this is saying something), it is comparable in adrenaline-activity to the Battle of Pelennor Fields. 250,000 sentinels turn the battleground into a nightmare apocalyptic vision. As for Neo and Trinity, there quest to the Machine City is equally fascinating, showing the surface world we have only seen briefly as another nightmare. THere is even a moment of actual poetry in which, bursting above the clouds, Trinity becomes the first human in 100 years to see the sky. The Machine City itself is something like Dr. Seuss on acid, and the Deus Ex Machina is a rather scary version of the Head of Oz. As for the final apocalyptic fight between Neo and Smith, it is just that. The effects of the rain are magnificent as the two Titans clash far above the earth. And the actual conclusion to the story, something that I had no idea how the Wachowskis would bring about after the second one, is actually pretty surprising and rather clever. All this being said, there are still flaws. The battle between Smith and Neo is great until it crashes into the ground (literally), after which, the momentum is lost, and the final effect is rather awkward. There are still horrible lines, but thankfully, most of them are just one or two lines, instead of entire dialogues. The actual ending of the film leaves something to be desired, a sunset happy-go-lucky meeting that seems to come more from Harry Potter than the Matrix. But, flaws aside, this is a much better film than Reloaded, and though no where near the masterpiece of the original, is still a worthy successor.

The Matrix Reloaded (2003)

Amazing action, horrific writing

[7/10 · 2 February 2006]

The Matrix Reloaded has powerful pros and powerful cons. Its difficult to say which outweighs the other. The action is unbelievable, some of the best action sequences ever put on film. The story is decent, with a nice series of twists and complications. The dialogue (and for the most part the actors who are forced to speak it) are horrible. And ultimately, the movie is highly condescending. The philosophy of the first Matrix was imbued in the essence of the story. It was not only one of the best action films ever made (a totally revolutionary one, at that), but it was also intelligent and original. It got the viewers thinking, and had numerous great philosophic one liners (You think that's air you're breathing? There is no spoon.) Four years later, the Wachowski brothers have decided you're not smart enough to think for yourself, so they'll turn those one-liners into condescending lectures about determinism and free will, about the nature of the human and predestination, all of which sound like class notes taken from first year philosophy. Then, they'll make their characters deliver these pointless speeches in pointless scenes that pointlessly take up time. The conversation between the Merovingian and our heroes is absolutely unbearable, and unwatchable. Given the material, its not surprising that the acting in this film is below the standard of the first one. Keanu Reeves can't act, but he doesn't have to, so it doesn't really matter. Carrie Anne-Moss is decent, as are some of the new additions (Link, Niobe, Seraph). What is most disappointing here, however, is the degeneration of Morpheus. In the original Matrix, Laurence Fishburne gave us a kung-fu-fighting, gunslinging, building-jumping sage, a man of wisdom. In Reloaded, Morpheus is more robotic than the machines they're fighting. He is the one that has to deliver most of this philosophical garbage, and even though Fishburne is a great actor, I don't think anyone could make this sound like anything other than what it really is: the condescending claptrap of two ex-philosophy students, stroking their egos. In fact, the only time we get a glimpse of the old Morpheus is during his fight sequences. As for these, well, they're the movie's redemption. They fly past the first Matrix, and crush almost all other action sequences in recent memory. The Brawl sequence, in which Neo confronts the 100 Smiths (his duplication trick is the best addition to the story) will leave your heart pounding. One thing the Wachowski's have succeeded in is pushing the bar for action films again. The real highlight (worth watching the movie for in itself) is the Freeway Chase, a scene that is beyond any doubt the best chase in film history, with ghosts, agents, cars, motorcycles, trucks and battles on top of trucks, crashes, explosions, bullet-time shots, and Morpheus with a samurai sword: in Neo's words, "Whoa." Another great improvement is the development of Smith from a cold-blooded agent, to a power-hungry, duplicating opposite of Neo. Hugo Weaving is the only actor in the film that comes out ahead. Here, he plays a Smith who, so coldly evil and emotionless in the first film, is now devilishly evil with a sense of twisted humour, (The great thing about being me is there's so many me's; if you can't beat us, join us; me, me, me. Me too!). He overplays the part with a vigor that seems to be lacking in every other character in the film, and is one of the only people who doesn't seem like a machine.

Memento (2000)

One of the best thrillers of all time.

[10/10 · 4 October 2005]

I was one of very few mainstream viewers who saw Memento in the theatres. Later, when it was out on DVD, it became such a sleeper hit, spread by word of mouth, that practically everybody I knew had seen it. The words "short-term memory" loss became a key gimick in film and television. The concept of a movie, flowing out of sequence, generally unused since Quentin Tarantino's Pulp Fiction, now came back with a vengeance, forming such films as Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Memento truly deserves to be called one of the greatest thrillers ever made. The concept of a man who cannot make new memories trying to locate his wife's murderer is a brilliant, but the impetus used by putting it in reverse is shattering. We experience the world of Leonard Shelby, whose short-term memory was destroyed in the same incident that saw the murder and rape of his wife, as he searches for the murderer, the mysterious John G. Tattooed with key information, Leonard is the centre of a drama involving three people: himself, Natalie, and Teddy. The story begins at the end, with LEonard finding Teddy to in fact be the John G. he has been searching for, and murdering him. Thus, Leonard is the romantic hero out for revenge. But as the story unfolds, new faces are revealed. The notes which he lives his life by, written on the backs of photographs, have their genesis one after the other, characterizing who he trusts and who he doesn't. A mark on Teddy's photo, reading "Do not believe his lies," renders everything Teddy says, in Leonard's mind, false. Thus, for much of the film, we feel close to Leonard, sympathise with him, distrust Teddy, and see Natalie as the kind lover and helper. But as facts are revealed, these things begin to change. Natalie is revealed as a truly sinister character, using Leonard's condition to get rid of her enemies. Teddy's advice begins to sound practical, and true. Yet only in the final scene are we shown Leonard's real face: the bloodthirsty killer whose memory creates a vacuum into which all guilt and responsibility vanish, and who, never being able to fulfill his vengeance, and unable to heal by time, is driven by the soul purpose of destruction, by an enigma he created himself. In the final scene, we are left with a genuine feeling of unease. Why? Because we have attached ourselves to these characters as what they were revealed as at the beginning, we have sympathised with them, and never knowing where they came from, were content to assume by the present. But in the end, we find ourselves close to a psychotic, a murderer, a sociopath whose memory destroys all fulfillment and remorse, in other words, a mad man.

Koyaanisqatsi (1982)

Kaleidoscope Reality

[10/10 · 13 March 2005]

Koyaanisqatsi is unlike anything else in cinema. The closest analogy one can come up with is a sort of live-action Fantasia. But in reality it is so much more. It is an audio-visual poem that is nearly flawless. It presents the reality of everyday life and of nature from entirely new perspectives, and with what is perhaps the most brilliant cinematographic work in history, manages to unfold a fantastic portrait of life out of balance. The cinematography is interwoven so intricately with the brilliant minimalism of Philip Glass that the soundtrack and the visuals seem to breathe together as an organic entity, each actualizing the other. The divisions of the DVD and the soundtrack are perfect delineations of the film's progression: in Organic, slow camera work draws through deserts and canyons constructed by years of wind and sand, showing the organic interplay of forces that characterises natural law. In Cloudscape, fast-motion cinematography shows the dances of clouds and waters, each merging and following the same patterns (here there are some of the most dazzling shots of the film). In Resource we are given a glimpse of human development based on these natural processes. In Vessels, the film moves into the human world, where it will stay for the remainder, showing the vessels that humans construct for themselves: cars, planes, skyscrapers, highways, city streets, and the movement of these vessels together. In Pruit Igoe we see the degradation of the vessel, abandoned buildings and broken windows, models of human wastefulness, the permanence of which is contrasted with the models of nature. This sequence ends with a spectacular series of demolition shots that show the destruction of what man has built to make room for what man will build. The film reaches its artistic climax in the massive twenty-minute segment, The Grid. In The Grid, fast-motion cinematography moves through city streets, production lines, malls, and forests of skyscrapers, presenting the cityscape as a gridwork through which human lives move along predestined lines, indifferent to the thousands of fellow travelers around them. This segment speeds up to near light-speed levels at the end, moving along roads and observing the lights of cars that speed by in a kaleidoscope vision that dazzles the mind. In the final chapter, Prophecies, the camera slows down to show the people who comprise the Grid, emphasizing their identity and simultaneous anonymity within the machine in which they are gears. It also shows those who the flow of energy through the grid has left behind, stranded. This scene is accompanied by beautiful choral work by Glass, prophecies from the HOpi Language. In the final scene of the film, a rocket ascends, into space, and like Icarus flying too close to the sun, explodes in a fireball, from which a descending piece of rubble is followed in its haunting fall back to earth, pivoting around some unseen gravity, in a ballet like dance that shows that the same balance that rules the deserts rules the world of man, and that life out of balance will inevitably fall to earth.

The Passion of the Christ (2004)

A Personal Review (You Can't Do Much Else For A Movie Like This)

[3/10 · 28 January 2005]

I am not a Christian. I have recently converted to Buddhism, but at the time I saw this film, I was simply Agnostic. I decided that, despite the mixed reviews and controversy, or perhaps because of them, I just had to see this one. Now, I had not read the Bible cover to cover, and had only a vague knowledge of Jesus' life and death. Therefore, when I saw the Passion, I took everything in it for fact. This led me to question how I could have ever denied Jesus was the son of God? Of course, after doing a little bit of research, I discovered the factual basis of this film, and of the bible in a historical context, is weak at best. Just as Passion fever was hitting high fever pitch, I discovered Buddhism and converted. The next time I saw the Passion, I had read the Bible cover to cover, done research on the historical Jesus, the basis of Biblical anti-semitism, the accuracy of the Gospels etc.. Thus, watching it again, I finally developed a concrete opinion of the film. I will not say it is this, or it is that, for a film like touches everyone differently, but I found it, upon second viewing, to be little more than a glorified snuff film, gratuitously violent, inaccurate in many respects, definitely anti-semitic, over-indulgent and very weak. How many times must we see Jesus fall upon the route to Golgotha in slow motion? How many times must we see him hit and whipped by the Roman guards? The certain things I did not like about the film include the script's portrayal of Pontius Pilate as a conflicted man under pressure by the Jewish mob (he was later removed from his post for being too cruel!). I also did not like the way that Caiphas was shown, as a savage Jew jealous of Jesus' sway. A certain portion of the Gospels shows him mentioning the rebellion that could result from Jesus' power, thus inviting the slaughter of thousands of Jews. Thus, instead of a man concerned for the welfare of his people, Caiphas is merely a bloodthirsty Semite. And certain sections, such as the whipping scene (were the fish-hooks on the end of the whip really necessary?) are incredibly drawn out. The whipping does not end until Jesus' entire body is ripped with deep rivers of blood. Another torturous scene is the Crucifixion itself, in which we not only see close-up shots of Jesus' hands being nailed to the cross, but we also get to witness the dislocation of his arm, the nailing of his feet, his being crushed under the weight of the cross, and his being stabbed and raining blood upon the watchers (A note: there is a major factual error here. I don't care what the scriptures say, a person could not be crucified by having a nail driven through his hands. The weight of the body would tear right through the hands. The nailing was done between the two bones of the forearm, they could have at least got that right!). In fact, I think I can only say two good things about the film. The first is that Jim Caviezel (a performer I have always admired) is probably the best screen Jesus to date. The second is that, amongst all the scenes of torture intended to be moving or stirring, the only one that actually affected me was the scene in which Jesus, exiting Jerusalem, falls under the weight of his cross, and Mary, remembering a fall he had taken as a child, comes running to his aid. This is a beautiful scene, but there is nothing divine or holy about it. Rather it shows the beauty and sorrow that a mother feels for her Son, and personifies Jesus rather than idolizes him. Ultimately, I feel sad that, for a man who lived such a great life and taught so many wonderful doctrines on human brotherhood and love, the focus of the general public should be on his brutal execution. I mean, the entire concept of Resurrection is given only about 30 seconds of screen time at the very end. And though certain shots of Jesus teaching appear throughout the film, they are horribly offset by the violence between them.

Kill Bill: Vol. 1 (2003)

Reinvented Tarantino

[18 October 2003]

Kill Bill is nothing short of remarkable. Nine years after Pulp Fiction, director Quentin Tarantino's fourth film is a wonderful narcotic. Personally, I think Tarantino, though great as a director, is limited in his writing ability. I know there are many who would disagree, but all three of his films share a general form of dialogue, a sort of hip-70's retro talk that grows old by Jackie Brown. But in Kill Bill, the dialogue is at a minimum and I couldn't be happier. Here, Tarantino pays brilliant homage to the chop socky films of Sonny Chiba (here appearing as a master swordmaker) and the spaghetti westerns of Sergio Leone. Uma Thurman is flawless in her role. The fight scenes, in their sheer brutality and obvious choreography, beat the Matrix all to hell. Limbs fly and fountains of blood follow. A cool comic interlude allows Tarantino to voice his inner bloodloving child in a series of bloody encounters. This film is Tarantino's most enjoyable work, and without the dull 70's dialogue, the experience is enriched by the raw force. Cannot wait for Vol. 2.

Requiem for a Dream (2000)

An earth shattering, gut wrenching masterwork

[9/10 · 4 October 2003]

I have just watched 'Requiem for a Dream' and it is unlike no other film I have ever seen. It is so savage, so unmitigated in its horrific images, so twisted and intense that it simply appeared to me as earth shattering. Ellen Burstyn's performance is the highlight of her career, as her portrayal of Sara Goldfarb is nothing short of brilliant. Through haunting visuals, combining the surrealistic dreamworld of the addict with the horrifying nightmare that lies between highs, Aronosofsky moves beyond the enigmatic pretenses of his first work PI, and into a bold new world. Nothing anyone said prepared me for this movie, with its utterly honest and terrifying depiction of addiction, it is so much more intriguing than anything else I have ever seen on the subject (the closest would be 'Trainspotting' and that is distant). A word of advice to the viewer, however. If you do not have a strong stomach this movie is not necessarily for you. The entire movie is dizzying and nauseating, not because of any specific visuals but because of its astounding intensity.

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001)

Cinematic perfection **** (out of ****)

[10/10 · 11 September 2003]

'The Fellowship of the Ring', the first volume of Peter Jackson's epic Lord of the Rings Trilogy, is an almost flawless movie that manages to span three hours without one dull moment, a feat unmatched by even 'The Godfather'. The story is, of course, merely the first third in the greatest tale of good vs. evil ever written. The first time I saw this, I realized with excitement that this is the first time I had ever seen a piece of cinematic legend taking shape. Great characters, beautiful execution, fabulous adventure and wondrous storytelling are the key features in this magnificent epic. The detail that went into this work I cannot even imagine, and the perfection that it becomes I cannot believe. If you have not seen this, rent it immediately, and while you're at it, get The Two Towers too, it's just as good.

The Shawshank Redemption (1994)

Number two? Fine by me **** (out of ****)

[10/10 · 11 September 2003]

I have long viewed the Shawshank Redemption as the most underrated film of all time. That isn't to say that it wasn't universally acknowledged by the movie-going public as a great movie, but in terms of awards, critical acclaim, and best ever lists, this has somehow kept on losing out. Now that I see it has the number two position, as voted by the movie-going public, on probably the most accurate best ever list in the world (AFI be damned), I am eminently pleased. There is no way Forrest Gump should have won best picture over Shawshank. Certainly, Forrest Gump is a charming, well-acted film, but it is nothing compared to this. Morgan Freeman excels, and Tim Robbins turns in his best performance. If you haven't seen this masterpiece, get up and rent it immediately.

Schindler's List (1993)

The most important movie of all time **** (out of ****)

[10/10 · 11 September 2003]

The holocaust is one of the most horrific pieces of history we have. Because it occurred so recently, and was on such a massive scale, it is important we understand it. Schindler's List is Spielberg's finest hour, the greatest film ever made on the holocaust and the most important movie ever made. Ever single person should be REQUIRED to see this movie. It shows the depths that humanity can sink to, the horrors of our race, yet Schindler's List is about survival, about compassion, about the saving of souls, the saving of lives. It is a remarkable film, and a key piece to world history. The performances are perfect, the direction is superb, and the story is one of the greatest imaginable.

The Godfather Part II (1974)

The beautiful completion of a wondrous film arc **** (out of ****)

[10/10 · 11 September 2003]

The Godfather, Part II, The Two Towers and The Empire Strikes Back: these are the only sequels to match the original. What do thesee have in common? They are all continuations of a saga, rather than just additional stories. I do not distinguish necessarily between the greatness of the Godfather Parts I and II. It is the same story, and both movies are ten times as good when viewed together in a 6 and a half hour marathon. In Part II, an incredibly slow first hour concerning Michael's trying to find the people who want him killed, this returns to the compelling family drama that is truly the essence of the Godfather. In the meantime, the story of young Vito, played by a young but still brilliant Robert De Niro, unfolds, intertwining his rise with the moral fall of Michael. At the end, the arc is complete, and the final shot of MIchael sitting amongst the falling leaves, a man who has lost his family and his soul, a man totally alone, so unlike the innocent at the beginning of Part I, is the greatest end shot in history.

The Godfather (1972)

The definitive great movie **** (out of ****)

[10/10 · 11 September 2003]

What can I say that hasn't already been said. The Godfather is the greatest movie of all time. It is a classic in every sense of the word. Though some may enjoy this film more than others, none can deny its brilliance, and its everlasting appeal as a part of Hollywood legend that divided the industry into sections of old Hollywood (pre-Godfather) and new Hollywood.

Casablanca (1942)

The best of a golden age **** (out of ****)

[10/10 · 11 September 2003]

Casablanca is everything movies should be. It's quick wit, fascinating performances and wonderful story is the very definition of a classic. Humphrey Bogart turns in the performance of his life, while Ingrid Bergman, Paul Henreid and Claude Raines are all perfect as supporting cast. Easily, one of the best loved, most quoted, and still, most entertaining films ever made. Here's looking at you, kid.

The Running Man (1987)

A good actioner

[19 June 2003]

Having just finished reading Stephen King's 'The Running Man', and having just seen this movie, I say that while the former astounded me, the latter served purposes of mere entertainment. The novel 'The Running Man', written in '82 is 100 times more potent in it's horrifying Orwellian vision of our future. With the mind-numbing, scapegoating shows on Reality TV, it is very easy to see that in the 2025 this sort of organized madness is plausible. 'The Running Man' movie has lost almost all the social commentary of its source material, but manages to retain the sense of raw suspense the book carried throughout. As a film, this is no Terminator 2, or even a Total Recall, but its still a decent actioner, certainly better than the tripe Schwarzenegger turns out today (Although I have fingers crossed for T3)

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002)

A true masterpiece, despite what Tolkien purists may say

[10/10 · 24 May 2003]

Reading over some of the IMDb comments on this film, I am truly appalled by the number of people who rant and whine about the films deviations from the book. Film and literature are two different mediums, not to be confused, and very rarely are they entirely compatible. Tolkien's book, while brilliant, is not the 'perfect series' as I have heard it proclaimed, and cannot be expected, even by the most adamant of fans to be portrayed to utter perfection in the movie. Jackson's film is an utter masterpiece, giving the audience what they want, entertainment, emotion and raw pure spectacle. Almost all of the most brilliant films of all time are not entirely faithful to the book, including 'The Godfather', in which rather large sections were left out, 'Gone With The Wind', 'The Silence Of The Lambs', 'Doctor Zhivago', 'The Shawshank Redemption', 'A Clockwork Orange', 'The Bridge On The River Kwai', 'Apocalypse Now', 'One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest', 'Amadeus', 'Raging Bull' and 2001. And yes, I have read all these books so don't doubt me when I say it. Literary structure is different from the structure of movies. And any good screenwriter will tell you more often than not it is necessary to take liberties with a book in order to create the aesthetic of a good movie. So the ending was changed. It will be in the next one. So Arwen's appearance was an invention of Jackson's. It created a bridge in her character between the first and third films. Okay, I can understand the argument about Gimli being made into comic relief, that annoyed me too, but it did not mar my impression of the film in any way. In no way do the legitimate complaints of people annoy me, but when I hear such comments as 'Like Merry And Pippin would ever let Frodo go to the boats, he should have snuck to them through the shadowland like in the books', I get really bothered. Menial arguments such as this are the product of disgruntled Tolkien purists, many of whom I feel would not be satisfied even if the book followed the writer's vision perfectly. The smallest flaws are made into an ignominious nuisance by those who, even if those flaws were not there, would still complain about something else. I myself have read 'The Lord Of The Rings' about 6 or 7 times, and I agree it is a great book. Yet no book is so perfect that it should not be changed in any way. And I apologize to any Tolkien fans I am offending, but speaking from the view point of a huge literary afficionado I must say that 'The Lord Of The Rings' is not the greatest book ever written, nor is Tolkien the greatest writer. His mammoth fantasy epic is by no means the standard for literary style, nor for characterization or meaning. I shake my head when I hear 'The Lord Of The Rings' referred to as the quintessential novel. Despite being the greatest masterpieceo of fantasy ever written, it still does not measure up to Joyce's 'Ulysses', Dostoyevsky's 'The Brothers Karamazov', or Proust's 'Remembrance Of Things Past'. I love Dostoyevsky, yet if a movie were made of 'The Brothers Karamazov', and 'The Grand Inquisitor', perhaps one of the most incredible sections in all literature were removed, I would not damn the director, and insult the film, for I realize the scene, though essential to the writer's purpose, is not essential to the story the film is trying to portray. If I may parody a line from 'Inherit The Wind', The Lord Of The Rings is a great book, but it is not the only book, and its brilliance as a film may not match its brilliance as a book (though in my opinion it does) but it cannot be insulted merely because it deviates from its source.

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002)

Film vs. Book: A Rationalization

[10/10 · 17 March 2003]

Looking over the IMDB comment board for 'The Lord Of The Rings: The Two Towers', I see that in general, it is as beloved as the first one. There is, however, a fairly large group of avid Tolkien fans who feel the removal of the ending to the book would have been unnecessary if Peter Jackson had simply cut out the Aragorn/Arwen scenes. What I hope to offer here is a rationalization as to why Jackson did what he did, and the perfectly valid justification he had for doing it. To begin with, despite many crossovers between medias of film and literature, the two rarely mix entirely. Literature is an expression of a writer's views and ideologies on the page, and film is a visual expression of the combined vision of several people. Many books are perfect fodder for adaptations, but few pieces of literature. Imagine someone trying to adapt Joyce's 'Ulysses' to the screen, or Proust's 'Remembrance Of Things Past'. It simply could not be done. In most works of great literature, Dostoyevsky, Joyce, Tolstoy, Flaubert etc., the artists express themselves through the writing as a style. Tolkien, while perhaps not on par with the supreme literary brilliance of the aformentioned authors, is still the father of fantasy, and it is his book that will be remembered as the most popular and, outside of the scholarly world, influential book of the 20th century. So how do you make it into a movie? Up until a few years ago, no one believed it could be. And then Peter Jackson released 'The Fellowship Of The Ring' last year, and everyone, even the most discerning Tolkien neophytes were satisfied. With this year's installment, 'The Two Towers', Jackson has become more daring, and has taken several liberties with the story line, most notably, excluding the last 5 chapters. Yet I want to specify something to all the Tolkien addicts who are most enraged by this blatant cut: word-for-word adaptations rarely ever work. In adapting a novel to the screen, something is invariably lost if the director does not have the wits to put the film in his vision rather than the author. If the author wanted to make a film he would have instead of writing a book. I believe, most strongly, in a dapting a book to the screen, one must take the general emotions the book generates, and do everything possible to bring them to the audience. In Tolkien, these emotions are invariably a sense of joy and wonder, something he certainly instilled with the first volume. Yet now, it has been a year, and many people (like me) have seen the fellowship so many times we can recite it line by line. The wonder is no longer new, and the joy somewhat dimmed by our familiarty with the perils of Middle-earth. In 'The Two Towers', Jackson takes our familiarty, and enhances upon it, bringing us deeper into the characters and the realm of Tolkien's universe. It's not the same as the book, but it most certainly works.

Se7en (1995)

A dark, shocking work of near-masterpiece proportions

[9/10 · 15 March 2003]

I first saw this movie when I was eight, and, just to show how much my generation is desensitized, it didn't scare me. Having seen it several times since, I now realize that this is in fact one of the most shocking films ever made. Between 'Se7en' and 'Fight Club', David Fincher has created two flawed masterpieces. Se7en itself is brilliantly done, with a horrifying, remarkable twist ending, and Kevin Spacey as John Doe, a serial killer on par with Hannibal Lecter. The only flaw with this movie is it's lack of deeper morals. Sure, it shows the overall evils of today's world, but it feels as though it's missing something essential, a feeling of humanity.

Far from Heaven (2002)

An engaging work of art

[10/10 · 13 March 2003]

When I saw 'Far From Heaven', I had read all the critical reviews, most of which declared it was one of the best films of the year, aswell as one of those few films that transcended the art/mainstream barrier (another example being 'Memento'). Having heard nothing but this sort of exceptional praise, I went to see this film with high hopes. WHen I left the theatre, I felt I had been cheated ever so slightly. This film was incredibly well crafted, and a brilliant satire on the 1950s, yet I felt it lacked the humanity. However, as the weeks went by, I kept thinking about this movie, and appreciating and liking it more and more in retrospect. I had another similar experience last year with Todd Field's utterly brilliant drama 'In The Bedroom'. So last weekend I went back to see 'Far From Heaven'. Only after the second viewing did I realize what a masterpiece it was. How this is not up for best picture I don't understand, as I consider it infinitely superior to 'Gangs of New York', and a level or so above 'The Hours' aswell. Todd Haynes work on this film is extraodinary. He brings alive the vitality and melodrama of a 50's movie, an image furthered by Elmer Bernstein's delightfully retrospective score and the beautiful New England Autumn Cinematography. Yet as it is a 50's drama on the shiny surface, below it calmly and clearly points out the numerous flaws of the era. Dennis Quaid's performance as the sexually frustrated husband is incredible, while Julianne Moore provides an exceptional lead, her best performance since 'Boogie Nights'. A truly engaging work of art. And a film truly worthy of all the praise it has received.

Shogun (1980 TV Movie)

Extremely well made, but pales when compared to the book

[10 March 2003]

James Clavell's Shogun, the first book in his epic asian saga, was a modern masterpiece. It showed completely the culture clashes between two nations at the opposite ends of the world, as Pilot John Blackthorne is thrust into the midst of a Japanese feudal war between Lords Ishido and Toranaga. Whilst in 'the land of the gods', Blackthorne becomes engaged in a passionate and tragic relationship with the married Mariko, while the two obstinate men, Toranaga and Blackthorne learn to respect one another's cultures and ideologies. With this ten-hour miniseries, television comes as close as it possibly can to paralleling the adventure realized so clearly in the pages, yet unfortunately, that's not quite close enough. True this is the first great miniseries, and a excellent work in it's own right. Yet when compared to the book, it simply fails to convey the effect. One noticeable problem is the casting of Richard CHamberlain as John Blackthorne, whose appeaance doesn't suit the ruggedness of the character