IMAX

Magnificent Desolation

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Neil Armstrong — an American hero and a pioneer in the field of space exploration, it’s true, but does the public en masse know his struggles as well as he and his family did? The answer, and then some, is provided in First Man, the third feature film from Oscar winner Damien Chazelle. Certainly, it was an unexpected move from the director of music films Whiplash and La-La Land to do a period piece about the greatest voyage humankind ever bore witness to, but damned if it isn’t his finest, and one of the finest movies of the year.

Grounded as an Air Force test pilot and traumatized by a recent tragedy, Neil Armstrong (Ryan Gosling, Blade Runner 2049) applies to NASA’s nascent Gemini program to get a new start for himself, his wife Janet (Claire Foy, Breathe) and their son. In doing so, Neil is tested in all manners of speaking as he tests the limits of the atmosphere, the patience of public and politicians alike and the strength of his family.

Among the cast, Gosling finally proves his mettle in my eyes as more than a handsome face and a cutesy voice, and brings realism and humanity to the legendary Armstrong. Similarly, Ms. Foy is at her career best with this film, bringing an truthful portrayal of the struggles felt by the wife of an astronaut, wondering if the man she loves will ever come home to her and holding the fort largely by herself (bringing to mind an equally stellar Sienna Miller in 2014’s American Sniper). Other notable standouts include Jason Clarke (The Chicago Code) as Edward White, a colleague of Neil’s who serves as a shoulder for him to lean on at times, and Patrick Fugit (Almost Famous) as Elliott See, an early acquaintance of Neil’s during the interview phase of the Gemini program. Finally, Corey Stoll (Ant-Man) brings all the requisite smarm and crass behavior to the utterly asinine Buzz Aldrin — the accuracy is much appreciated!

Chazelle shows real talent as a director with this film — unlike his wanton tail-riding of other, better movies (let’s face facts, La-La Land is just a modernized An American in Paris), he seems to have gone deep in ensuring authentic performances of his actors — no one is hamming it up for an Oscar — and portraying the 1960s without glamorizing or mocking it. Also, in a wise move, the lunar landing scene is entirely film in IMAX, bringing an expanded view for such a pivotal scene, and heightening the reality of the moment — if you have the good fortune of being near an IMAX Laser theater, get your tickets now! Josh Singer’s script — itself based on a chronicle of the same name by James R. Hansen —  never goes to the hysterical level of other space chronicles or period pieces. The words coming from these actors’ mouths feel natural, not at the Aaron Sorkin level of ego and hyperbole, and the events shown are certainly believable and honestly portrayed.

The film also arrives at a most apropos time, for in a day and age when public interest in our intergalactic future is at an all-time high, a film like First Man presents a reminding view to audiences; apathetic generations less concerned about contributions to history and human progress than putting band-aids on Earthbound problems — sounds to me like an additional past America, circa 2008-2016. The fact is we need to explore space continuously — even if no life exists beyond Earth, we can learn so much and further human advances in technology, medicine and countless other fields all from journeying from one habitable planet to the next. After all, why did maritime explorers look for a new world?

First Man is a brilliant, tautly-crafted film, honest in every detail, and while it almost certainly won’t win many, if any, of the awards it’s hyped to get (let’s be real, Oscars don’t do science… or honest history), it doesn’t need them. It never stoops to the overbearing caricature of space exploration and its conflicts that Apollo 13 was, nor does it bombard the viewer with fact and conjecture a la (the still very brilliant) Interstellar. No, this is a movie of its time for our time; a reminder that the future is up there, far beyond the atmosphere and, soon, the stars.

Rating: 5/5

Thunderstruck

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Not many people would care to say it, but Marvel Studios’ 2011 effort at bringing Thor to the screen was a big friggin’ gamble, after the earthen adventures of the first two Iron Man films and The Incredible Hulk. Its final result, however, was masterfully helmed by Sir Kenneth Branagh was nothing short of amazing — thus, the God of Thunder quickly became my favorite Avenger. The second outing is well chronicled in the backlogs of this blog and was, I regard, the first big misstep from the House of Feige. Still, I held out hope for the third outing, but worries beset me when I heard the newly-announced director, Taiki Waititi (What We Do In The Shadows) said he was “going to take the second Thor movie and add more jokes.” Jokes, I regard, were what killed Thor: The Dark World, but having seen Waititi’s effort, I feel nothing but giddiness and contentment with what I saw!

The film opens with several king-sized bangs, as Thor (Chris Hemsworth, In the Heart of the Sea) claims the life of a gigantic monster and finds a new threat awaiting him, in the bloodlusting form of Hela (Cate Blanchett, Cinderella), the Goddess of death. Destroying his prized hammer, Mjölnir, Thor barely escapes to distant planet Sakaar, where the Contest of Champions awaits, an old friend lies captive, and old wounds look ready to burst.

Hemsworth is in better comedic form than I have ever seen him! While I stand by my comment that dedicated comedies are not for him, this is a superhero film in the hands of a sharp, talented comedic director, and that same talent only helps our hero. Tom Hiddleston (I Saw The Light) is in equally fine form, returning easily to the black wig as Loki and never once stooping to the suffocating caricature he was in The Dark World. Finally returning to the MCU is Mark Ruffalo (Begin Again) as Bruce Banner/The Incredible Hulk — the latter of whom now talks! There is no better heir to the legacies of Lou Ferrigno and Bill Bixby than Ruffalo, bringing the brawn and brain in both sides of his character! A surprising return comes in the form of Heimdall (Idris Elba, Star Trek Beyond), the Asgardian gatekeeper who has a lot to deal with this time — his return is surprising given his well-publicized disdain with the franchise, but is all the more welcome, as he’s integral to this story and the franchise’s future.

Newcomers to the franchise also shine — Tessa Thompson (Creed) does her first accent role as Valkyrie, the last of an elite Asgardian platoon, and she is fierce as can be, with a smoothness comparable to crystal rum! That being said, lots of female roles in blockbusters these days like to emulate Star Wars‘ Rey, but apart from being a scavenger, the same can’t be said of Valkyrie — she’s got a vocabulary like an acid-soaked whip and fighting skills to match, no matter how smashed she gets! Jeff Goldblum (Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom) is in fine, debaucherous form as The Grandmaster, he who pulls the strings in the Contest of Champions. You really want to smack him in this, because he’s a perverted jerk, but then you want to kiss him, because he’s Jeff Goldblum! Karl Urban (Pete’s Dragon) provides a comedic edge to his work as Skurge, an executioner under our villain’s payroll, and almost makes us root for said boss! Finally, Cate Blanchett — she takes another grand, villainous turn that most would be chewing the scenery in, but she manages to bring a level of humanity to such a horrid creature, one that suggests an abandoned child whose mind has filled with thoughts of vengeance. Bravo, Blanchett. Here’s hoping you make Dame by next Christmas!

The crew behind Ragnarok are integral to the films’ success — the film is brightly colored and peppered with detail, evoking memories of Mad Max: Fury Road, truly looking like a comic book without falling into the self-parody that Ang Lee’s Hulk did; see it in IMAX or IMAX 3D! The music is something else, too! Legendary composer and former Devo frontman Mark Mothersbaugh brings a score together that suggests the best of Patrick Doyle’s work and also Daft Punk’s score for TRON: Legacy (sidenote: fellow TRONiacs will surely appreciate the gladiatorial battle midway through the film!)

To clarify Waititi’s earlier statement, he did add more jokes, but the juvenile nature of said gags is toned down immensely — while there is one truly juvenile joke in the film, which you will surely recognize, the suddenness of its appearance actually makes it funny! The Dark World was inundated with them, so what could have remained the superhero equivalent of a Three Stooges comedy becomes that of a Marx Brothers satire, and it’s all the better. Waititi brings a comedic flair to the film reminiscent of James Gunn’s efforts in Guardians of the Galaxy, and as such, he’s not afraid to go serious when the need arises, and rest assured, there is as much at stake as there is in one of those films — one of the best examples of that is in Thor’s continued attempts at bringing Hulk back into the form of Bruce Banner, which starts off as a lighthearted gag, but evolves into genuine pathos by the time Banner becomes himself again. Also, Waititi isn’t afraid to linger with story elements — one of my biggest complaints with The Dark World was its glossing over the story in favor of naked actors, but though jokes may run deep in Ragnarok‘s DNA, it is still a film, and most great films have a narrative to follow with characters you care about! Here’s hoping Waititi is signed for more Marvel Studios ventures!

Let me reiterate, Thor is one of my favorite movies — I saw it five times in the theater! — and, until now, my favorite film in the Marvel Studios pantheon, as it has been gleefully upended by Thor: Ragnarok, one of the greatest trilogy-makers since Toy Story 3. Lusciously photographed, brilliantly scored and joyously written without a shred of fear in taking its time, this has all the makings of a classic.

Rating: 5/5

The Greatest Show On Earth

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…spoilers await below…

Slowly, but surely, I am beginning to tolerate select horror flicks — thus far, I’ve been able to withstand the shocks of Sleepy Hollow (1998), The Conjuring and The Conjuring 2, but when I see a horror movie, it has to be more than blood and gore. What I look for are relatable characters and a solid story. The aforementioned three had all that, and so does 2017’s feature film remake of It, the Stephen King story that terrorized a generation.

This iteration moves the year to the 1980’s, remaining in Derry, a New England hamlet, where horror besets its children. Kids of all ages go missing unexpectedly from an unknown menace, and the adults in the community don’t give half a damn, so a group of kids, rejects from their school and families, take it upon themselves to defeat this threat once and for all — but can they confront what they fear in the process?

To those who don’t know, the titular “It” is commonly shown in the form of the utterly terrifying Pennywise, the dancing clown — straight out of the pages of your deepest nightmares and masterfully portrayed by Bill Skarsgård (True Blood), this is a villain like no other, and easily ousts Tim Curry’s portrayal from the 1990 miniseries. True, while Skarsgård owes his character to Curry’s portrayal, the former plays him in a less wordy manner – he speaks with his actions more often than his voice, which is higher than Curry’s, giving him a persona akin to a child molester; quite apropos for the role. Further, the design for Pennywise is also strikingly different — gone is the Bozo knockoff of the 1990 version and instead is one akin to a Victorian court jester. Some would say that contradicts the resetting to the 1980’s; I think it only helps the nightmarish, otherworldly look of Pennywise — a child’s fears usually are of things before their time. Speaking of, also amazing are the child actors, most of them newcomers, all of whom are fantastic as the members of the Losers’ Club. What I found fascinating about their characters is that they each have something that they’re scarred by — Bill (Jaeden Lieberher) lost his brother to Pennywise and has a stammering problem; Ben (Jeremy Ray Taylor) is bullied for being overweight; Beverly (Sophia Lillis) is suspected as a child prostitute and under the control of a molester father, and so on — not one of these characters is innocent, but it only makes them stronger and deeper in their convictions, and they’re all played as human as possible, and that speaks volumes of their acting talents.

The film’s director, Andy Muschetti, famed for having directed the surprise 2013 horror hit Mama, has truly reinvented the crowded field of Stephen King adaptations, most of them beneath contempt. Unlike this year’s first King “adaptation,” The Dark Tower, Muschetti fought tooth and nail, with the aid of this film’s producers, to include more of the novel verbatim in this film. In spite of the loss of the famed “Ritual of Chüd” sequence, this movie still soars, and earned the admiration of Stephen King himself — such praise is very rare for obvious reasons.

It should be noted that the movie doesn’t end here. Those familiar with the novel and/or miniseries will know that the story has two parts to it, and this film is no different. At the end, though the opening title card reads “It,” we are shown the film’s full title before the end credits: “It: Chapter One.” A daring move, to be sure, and no sequel was greenlit at the time of completion, but judging by the Thursday numbers as of this writing, our heroes will rise again to destroy the proverbial “It,” once and for all. I, for one, can hardly wait for Chapter Two to release. Welcome to the Losers’ Club!

Rating: 5/5

Like A Bolt Out Of The Blue

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While Marvel Studios has been, on average, going strong in the feature film market, television is another matter – Agents of SHIELD has become little more than The Marvel Easter Egg Hunt, and the Netflix shows amount to an R-rated version of the former. Agent Carter was fabulous, but as it was cancelled in its second season, we will likely never know its full potential. That being said, Marvel’s latest venture, Inhumans, holds great potential for both their life on the air and the future of television.

On the hidden lunar kingdom of Attilan, the race of Inhumans have made their home, ruled peacefully by a watchful king, Black Bolt (Anson Mount, Hell on Wheels), and loving Queen, Medusa (Serinda Swan, TRON: Legacy). However, insurrection becomes the order of the day when Black Bolt’s jealous brother, Maximus (Iwan Rheon, Game of Thrones), leads a coup for the throne. With the aid of Princess Crystal (Isabelle Cornish, Australia Day) and her teleporting giant dog, Lockjaw (work with me), they escape to Hawaii, where they find themselves ill-equipped to Earth’s limitations, all while being hunted by the illegitimate occupant of their throne.

Even though it began as a feature film — a release date, an attached star (Groot himself, Vin Diesel, as Black Bolt) and everything — Inhumans works well as a series thus far, with a very early 90’s feel to it, reminiscent of the first two seasons of Star Trek: The Next Generation, but its first two episodes move slowly as a feature, something that will surely flow better on the small screen in installments. Whether this is a result of padding a feature film script or standard operating procedure at ABC (the answer is yes), it’s a minor gripe compared to its two big advantages.

Number one is its cast, led by Anson Mount as Black Bolt — to play a literal strong, silent type could be suicide for an actor, but Mount’s characterization of Bolt is resilient, yet charming — at least, for a character whose voice can level cities. In truth, he isn’t entirely silent — Mount, the showrunners and several ASL experts concocted a sign language that he uses to communicate, something not even thought of in the comics. I look forward to seeing the King of Attilan learning actual ASL, if for nothing more than awareness’ sake! Medusa, on the other, a source of fear for comic devotees due to visual effects seen in the trailers, needn’t worry about the effects, nor Serinda Swan’s portrayal of the Attilanian Queen. She’s not a standout performer just yet in the series — not all shows start off on the best foot — but the romance between her and Black Bolt is palpable; beautiful, even. By the end, you’ll be a shipper. A surprising addition to the cast is Ken Leung (Keeping The Faith) as the royal visionary, Karnak (“Zim-Zallah-Bim,” Johnny Carson) — I knew he was cast, but his powers are impressive and, in this fan’s eyes, may tie into the MCU at large sooner than we think. I mean, is it any coincidence that his powers bear a design similar to spells in the Mystic Arts (see also: Doctor Strange)? We shall see.

Number two is the technical merits behind the show — famously billed as the first show filmed with IMAX cameras and showing only in IMAX theaters ahead of its debut on ABC, this is the most polished and gorgeous show I’ve seen produced by network television! Visual effects, particularly Lockjaw himself, shine with no trace of green screen or cut corners — are you watching, Once Upon A Time? — and in an IMAX theater, sound is bounding — every crash, every stab and every slam of a hoof is amplified with gusto in IMAX Sound. Bravo; can we have more network shows in IMAX?

Yes, the show is bogged down with some gripes — everyone above the pay grade of an extra has to be pretty as per ABC tradition — even people in the lower caste of Attilan are pretty, which kind of defeats the purpose, story wise. ABC, please hire actors with less than perfect teeth, facial deformities and Autism in all your roles with no corrections. Call yourself inclusive, eh? Minor gripes include Isabelle Cornish, a bit of a teenage weak link thus far as Crystal, but I hope I’ll be proven wrong as I was with Agents of SHIELD‘s FitzSimmons, and Iwan Rheon is a bit dry as Maximus, but I’ve never seen his work on Game of Thrones, or any episodes of the aforementioned, but again, let’s let these actors find their groove in the MCU.

Thus far, Inhumans is imperfect, but few shows are right out of the gate. Heck, Star Trek: The Next Generation took three seasons to kick it into gear, and with any luck, Marvel’s Royal Family will triumph before its eight episode limit! To your health, my King & Queen!

Rating: 3/5

 

 

What I’ve Done

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I’m going to try and keep this review as brief as possible.

On average, I adored the Transformers movies thus far — I saw the first installment in  high school, and every movie gave me cause to joyously regress to that fat, pimply kid and enjoy the candy corn that was the best toy movie franchise ever made. Sadly, there comes a point when a boy must mature into a man; for me, that moment came hours ago, when I saw Transformers: The Last Knight.

Filmed almost entirely in IMAX 3D, Michael Bay’s swansong to his time in the toy department makes use of the immersive format like nothing I’ve seen before, but if only more time was spent in the much-publicized writers’ room. Rest assured it’s not the ghastly hodgepodge that the second film, Revenge of the Fallen, was, but boy oh boy, is it uninspired. Then again, what could one expect of a group of writers headed by Akiva Goldsman, whose brainchildren include Batman & Robin, Winter’s Tale and The Da Vinci Code? Speaking of uninspired, most of the human actors present in this film are somewhere between giving it their all and collecting a paycheck — Marky-Mark patently wants out, Isabela Moner is charming but sparsely seen, Anthony Hopkins and Laura Haddock are having too much fun, and Josh Duhamel… next.

The biggest offenders in this film are the sound editors and mixers — if this film had a middle name, it would be “bombastic.” Even for an IMAX-optimized movie, it’s deafness-inducing, and the last thing I want after seeing a movie is to be fitted with hearing aids — no Oscar nods for any of y’all.

Though The Last Knight is meh than meets the eye, I still hold a tiny glimmer of hope for the four-friggin-teen Transformers movies and spin-offs in development, so here’s hoping the Bayhem has met its end at the hands of coherence.

Rating: 2/5

Guns of the Patriots

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Love it or hate it, someday, your favorite film will be remade, and if it sucks, you’ll always have the original to look back on. That being said, every now and then comes a remake that, while not necessarily justified in existence, packs one hell of a punch and brings the story, in some way, into a modern context. Director Antoine Fuqua (Training Day) has done just that with his take on John Sturges’ The Magnificent Seven, itself a remake of Akira Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai, but his is no copy-paste remake of either’s vision.

Relocating the setting to the California Territory in the late 1800s, the people of Rose Creek are at their wit’s end, as ruthless Bartholomew Bogue (Peter Sarsgaard, Elegy) is taking their land and lives by force, and all for his own personal gain. One such a townsperson who has lost her home and her husband is Emma Cullen (Haley Bennett, Hardcore Henry). Traveling the near cities looking for help to stand up to Bogue and his men, she finds Sam Chisholm (Denzel Washington, Antwone Fisher), a warrant officer who joins her cause almost on the spot. Fighting at Chisholm’s side are noted boozer Joshua Farraday (Chris Pratt, Guardians of the Galaxy), ex-Confederate sniper Goodnight Robicheaux (Ethan Hawke, Sinister), assassin Billy Rocks (Byung-Hun Lee, G.I. Joe: Retaliation), Mexican outlaw Vasquez (Manuel Garcia-Rulfo, Cake), lone Comanche warrior Red Harvest (Martin Sensmeier, Lilin’s Brood) and hunter Jack Horne (Vincent D’Onofrio, The Judge). Together, they set out to help the townspeople take back what is theirs… and settle a few personal scores.

Those who complain about this remake existing should take into account what could have been — At the project’s inception, Tom Cruise was set to star, but he dropped out over salary issues, and thus we have Fuqua’s vision, brilliantly written by Nic Pizzolatto (True Detective) and Richard Wenk (The Equalizer) and diversely cast in a day and age when many are decrying Hollywood movies for a lack of such casts. However, diversity does not solely make this cast succeed, and having the cool and collected Washington lead this team is a brilliant choice — he is the perfect successor to Yul Brynner. Pratt, channelling his inner Star-Lord is charming, but not suffocating, as the womanizing Farraday, something between Victor Mature’s Doc Holliday in My Darling Clementine with elements of Taylor Kitsch’s Gambit in X-Men Origins: Wolverine.

Something the surprised me was that Hawke’s character, Robicheaux, is written as having owed his life to Chisholm, in spite of the fact that the former’s character was a Confederate — it’s good to see redemption of a villain in a big-budget film. Lee and Sensmeier are silently fierce as their respective characters (and it’s refreshing to see an American Indian play a role that matches his ethnicity), but it’s D’Onofrio who steals the show, channelling the best of Andy Devine with the solemnity of a child at prayer. These being said, a story is rarely complete without a great villain, and Sarsgaard is terrific as the lawless lord of the land. Bogue exudes all the menace of a serial killer, filling the viewer with silent fear, as if cornered by a cobra.

More important than all of this, however, is that Fuqua never feels the need to call out the fact of his cast’s diversity  — the N-bomb, or any blatant slur, is not to be found in this film (take note, Tarantino), and on the opposite side, there is no deification of any one member of the seven above the other. Further, unlike the original film, there is no romantic subplot involving one of the seven, and that’s exactly how it should be — this is a tale of frontier justice; there’s little time to smooch while bullets fly over your head.

I do have a couple of misgivings about the film — nothing that drags it down considerably, but still, Haley Bennett’s Emma, while far from being a damsel in distress, is rarely seen with a smile on her face. Granted, things go horribly for her in the first scene and she may well go down with her village, but even when the town is partaking in minor pleasantries, she is still solemn. Still, I’ve never been in such a situation, so who am I to talk? Lastly, the montage of the seven training the townsfolk in weaponry goes over too fast — it comes off as somewhat hard to believe they became good marksmen so fast.

Even so, I say praise be Antoine Fuqua, because he has done what few others could — remaking a classic is no walk in the park, but he does so with tact and poignancy, and perfect for the age we live in. After all, if we can’t defend ourselves against tyranny, what good are we?

Rating: 4.5/5

Fearless

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In making Sully, legendary director Clint Eastwood has created an amazing epic about an event most would deem TV movie fare. True, the movie is the shortest of his career, running at just 95 minutes, but it is nothing short of astounding in every sense of the word, a film that is moving, suspenseful and, in presentation, the first of its kind.

Based on a true story that made international headlines in 2009, the film deals with the human psyche as well as presenting the enduring legacy of its title figure. Tom Hanks (Angels & Demons) brillaintly portrays Captain Chesley Sullenberger as a man thrust into the public eye, all for keeping people safe in a moment of extreme crisis — he is shocked and haunted by what-if scenarios in his mind, and it only gets worse when the airline companies and insurance firms butt in, trying to find some damning evidence to ruin him and his co-pilot, Jeff Skiles (Aaron Eckhart, The Dark Knight), all while having to deal by proxy with his wife (Laura Linney, John Adams) and daughters’ stress of being daunted by the press outside their home.

If it sounds as though I’ve downplayed the acting capability of Mr. Eckhart and Ms. Linney, my apologies, for they are fantastic as well, providing a moral compass to guide Sully and keep him resolute in a time of great stress. Just as impressive is the smaller but very necessary focus on a few of the passengers aboard Flight 1549, which could easily have slowed down the film to the dreaded level of boredom most disaster films suffer from. Thankfully, the passengers focused on only help us as viewers to fear for their safety. Believe me, there are moments in this film where, even though you know how the crew and passengers end up, you cling to your seat for dear life and gasp in terror.

As I said before, Sully is the first film of its kind in that it’s filmed almost entirely with IMAX cameras — 95%, according to IMAX Corp., and the difference is staggering. If there is an IMAX theater near you, you are doing yourself a great disservice if you don’t see it in the aforementioned format. The screen fills to the complete 1.90:1 IMAX aspect ratio, and the sound was mixed for IMAX first, so you’re getting the best balance and listening experience here and here alone. However, a format doesn’t guarantee a great film, but you get one here, thanks not just to the innovative octogenarian Eastwood, but his go-to cinematographer Tom Stern (Hereafter, American Sniper) and first-time Eastwood company member Blu Murray as editor. The film, occasionally jumping from event to event, is a seamless, much less coherent, experience.

While the Hollywood intelligentsia and some of the public may not think much of Eastwood now due to his politics, I urge you to put those views of his to the side and enjoy the film as it stands — a salute to heroism under fire, and thus far, the best motion picture of the year.

Rating: 5/5

Dial Tone

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Seriously, what’s the final title?

I am seriously at complete odds with what I just saw-who in their right mind okayed the script for this new version of Ghostbusters? Before saying anything further, I am a feminist and this movie is like a flat, heated bottle of Diet Coke that has gone out of date by about five years. Let the idea of that simmer on your tongue for a second or twelve. It isn’t appetizing, is it?

The all-lady cast of Ghostbusters (or is it Ghostbusters: Answer The Call? Set the title straight, Sony!) is not the problem with this reboot, either in decision or performance. Rather, I reiterate, it is the lousy script, whose writers seem wholly uninterested with making a feminist blockbuster, or making a good movie at all, and instead focus on laying groundwork for a sequel and spinoffs.

It starts out innocently enough — Columbia University professor Erin Gilbert (Kristen Wiig, The Martian) is dragged back into a past she’d rather forget when a book she co-wrote on the paranormal resurfaces online, thanks to her estranged childhood friend, Abby Yates (Melissa McCarthy, Bridesmaids). Tracking her down leads her to a haunted house nearby, where a spontaneous experiment conducted by Abby leads to the both of them stumbling upon the discovery of a malevolent ghost. Caught on camera professing her findings, one thing leads to another, and Erin is fired days short of receiving tenure, and more or less forced to join forces, as it were, with her girlhood chum and her partner in scientific experimentation, Jillian Holtzmann (Kate McKinnon, Saturday Night Live). Together, and with new recruit Patty Tolan (Leslie Jones, The Company We Keep), they set out to rid New York City of a rising threat.

It sounds better than it actually is — this is boring. So damn boring, and boy, does it show. While the new ladies in the jumpsuits are damn good with this lousy script (particularly Ms. McKinnon, a knockout!), Chris Hemsworth (Thor), as the receptionist, is as dead as a doornail/knob/knocker. He reads every single line in the style of the lead in a middle school play. Between this and the reboot of Vacation, he should never do a dedicated comedy again — his taste is ass. Renowned English actor Charles Dance (Game of Thrones) is in two scenes in the opening and is gone for the rest of the picture — why cast an actor of his caliber if you won’t use him to his fullest? The same applies to actors Michael Kenneth Williams (RoboCop) and Andy Garcia (The Ocean’s Eleven Trilogy), both in dry, one note roles. Even though no one made them take these blasé parts, why couldn’t they have been better utilized? The kingpin insult committed by this film is the use of the original Ghostbusters actors (sans Harold Ramis, God rest his soul) in pathetic wink-and-nod cameos. Bill Murray’s is the best-written of the bunch, but that’s not saying much, while Sigourney Weaver’s is insultingly relegated to the end credits scenes. So much for a feminist blockbuster.

Further, the script – it’s as if Sony got pitched an all-female Ghostbusters and gave writers Kate Dippold and Paul Feig (the latter of whom is also the director) final cut and no script doctor. Riddled with a bland villain, broken PG-13 sexual epithets and lousy gender and ethnicity jokes, this film offends more than it inspires, and its ending is the worst finale to a summer movie since Spider-Man 3. Almost as bad as the script are the visual effects. While other films make you believe in ghosts, this film gives you no reason to — Slimer and his ghoulish crew look like they belong in a PlayStation 2 full-motion video cutscene. These paltry effects are utter hogwash, and while I didn’t see the film in the director’s intended format of IMAX 3D, I shouldn’t have to shell out extra cash just to get a better experience, not that an added dimension could save this film.

The final insult is that Sony intends to make a shared universe of Ghostbusters films, as evidenced well before its post-credits scene by a logo for a subsidiary company they’ve set up – “Ghost Corps, A Columbia Pictures Company.” Really, Sony? Filching the multi-film universe shtick is pathetic in and of itself, but to do so with Ghostbusters signifies the first of many nails in the proverbial coffin.

Under the circumstances, the crew behind this Ghostbusters had a lot to work under — salvaging what could have been Ghostbusters III, balancing the expectations of new fans with the disappointment/rampant sexism of old fans and filling the pocketbooks of studio suits, but the fact is that they weren’t forced to make this film and, in the end, it still sucks. It isn’t one of the worst films I’ve seen, but it is, hand to heart, the biggest disappointment of the year.

Rating: 1/5

Shining at the End of Every Day

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(Change of plans, dear reader: I will be swapping back and forth between old flicks and new releases every other Sunday; in this way, I hope to keep up-to-date, both with this blog and my personal life. Feel free to hassle me if I fall behind.)

Luscious, isn’t it?

Since his sabbatical from Pixar Animation Studios after Ratatouille, director Brad Bird made his debut into live-action filmmaking with 2011’s Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol. While a runaway success, I feel the film was a total letdown in its script and performances, which is a crying shame, as it featured luscious cinematography, daring IMAX scenes and stunts that flowed like mercury. I really wanted to like it — twice. Now, like a shining light comes Tomorrowland, the brainchild of Bird, Damon Lindelof (Star Trek Into Darkness, Prometheus) and newcomer Jeff Jensen. Of course, the film owes its existence to the mind and talent of Walt Disney and the Disneyland Imagineers, past and present, but this film is far from brand plugging — rather, it both tells a story that inspires and serves as a guide for the human race of today.

In the film, Casey Newton (Britt Robertson, The Longest Ride) is an optimist in a time — as of this writing, that time is now — when everyone has just about lost hope in their own future, even her own father (Tim McGraw, The Blind Side), who is about to lose his job at Cape Canaveral. However, everything changes when she receives a pin that transports her into another world — a great, big, beautiful tomorrow, if you will. Hindered by the pin’s limitations, Casey seeks the help of Frank Walker (George Clooney, Ocean’s Eleven), a jaded inventor and gains the assistance of Athena (Raffey Cassidy, Snow White and the Huntsman), a little girl who is not all that she appears, to find the world that she yearns to be a part of, and save it from a sinister force.

To get my only two gripes out of the way, there is, to my eyes, so much product placement — I’m not talking about Disney products, I mean outside sponsors — General Motors, Nabisco, The Coca-Cola Company — I’ve never felt my attention become stammered by product placement until now, but since they’re spaced few and far between, it doesn’t matter too much. Secondly, the script plays out smoothly for the most part, but toward the end, loses definition in its detail. Perhaps this is a casualty of the cutting room floor, or maybe the words sounded better on paper, but the movie still succeeds in its narrative, and that’s really what matters.

Now to all who worry about when I said that the film “serves as a guide,” be not afraid — this is not a message movie; you will find no WALL•E-style, studio-mandated preaching here. If anything, I see the film as a kick in the federal government’s pants to get America back into the space race, as well we should — at the least, more tax dollars need to go to NASA, and not the pockets of money-born Senators. This film and Interstellar should be given back-to-back screenings outside the U.S. Capitol.

On its technical merits, Tomorrowland shines, both in regular theaters showing it in the 2.20:1 aspect ratio (giving the feeling of a 70mm epic of old) and its Digital IMAX version, presented in 1.90:1, which fills the screen. The visual effects are luscious and grand, which  begs the question as to why the film wasn’t shot/converted to 3D. I feel it would have fit like a glove, but given the amount of night shots in the film, I’m also glad it wasn’t, lest it resemble the 3D presentation of last year’s Maleficent.

As for the cast, Clooney fans may be shocked to know that though he carries top billing, he’s not in the film as much as Robertson is, and that’s exactly how it should be — this is a story for the impressionable youth of today. On that note, it’s great to see Robertson carry the story in a sci-fi film that doesn’t require her to wear salacious clothing or wield a sword or gun. Some would call it boring, and under lesser talent, it could be that, but with Brad Bird at the helm, it works, and Robertson brings the requisite kindness and earnestness to her performance. Remember, she’s a high schooler who wants to build a better world, accent on “build.” As Athena, Raffey Cassidy just about steals the show, and holds her own among Clooney, Robertson and all others in the film. Her innocence and bright, girlish glee give the story the feeling of a kids’ adventure film in the vein of E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial and more recently, Super 8. She’s surely got a bright future ahead of her, I just hope she doesn’t burn out like so many other young actresses. You may be wondering if this film has a definitive villain, so I’m going to tell you this: yes, it does, and go see the film to find out.

I highly recommend Tomorrowland — it’s not perfect, but it has a heart of gold and never stops loving the future that isn’t guaranteed, but is absolutely possible. Go see it in any way you can, but any giant screen is your best choice!

Rating: 4/5

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Sinemascope: Why Certain Aspect Ratios Need To Die

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Looks familiar, don’t it? Well, TIME TO DIE!!!

In layman’s terms, a film’s “aspect ratio” refers to how wide and/or tall the film appears. The aspect ratio that measures 2.35:1 or 2.40:1 is colloquially known as the Cinemascope aspect ratio — a way of framing the film so that the screen appears wider (remember, appears). This technique was pioneered in 1953 by Twentieth Century-Fox with biblical epic The Robe and medieval fantasy Prince Valiant, as a method of getting moviegoers away from their TV sets to experience something that could only be seen on the silver screen. The problem with this luscious backstory is twofold:

1. 35mm film, on which Cinemascope originated (later 70mm), has a native aspect ratio of 1.33:1 (i.e.: old TVs), and even though the Cinemascope ratio has grown slightly since The Robe, by cropping the film to such a degree that it does, you lose not only valuable space, but also resolution. This principle still applies in the digital age, where cameras shoot a native ratio of 1.78:1 — the same size as a widescreen TV, which brings us to…

2. The Cinemascope Aspect Ratio (hereon referred to as CAR) looks awful on a widescreen TV — two black bars on the top and bottom of the image says to the viewer that you don’t care about the home viewing experience, and that if they wanted to see your movie, they should have done so in the theater. Speaking of…

3. The CAR looks even worse on an IMAX screen. Digital IMAX theaters show at an AR of 1.90:1, close to 1.78:1, and if you cram a CAR film on that screen, it doesn’t make use of the format one bit, particularly if the film is in 2D only — rather, it looks like a mere blowup of the standard version.

On top of this, all but one of the theaters in my area widen their screen to fit the CAR; the rest of them shrink it, proving the CAR’s obsolescence. What I should like to see happen in the land of smoke and mirrors is, to drive my point home, more blockbuster and mainstream studio films shot in anything other than the CAR. Sure, there have been a few — Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, Marvel’s The Avengers and upcoming films Jurassic World and Ant-Man, but this is simply not enough. Other aspect ratios should not be reserved for comedies (romantic or otherwise), dramas and Oscar bait. Cinemascope was designed to pull audiences away from their televisions, and I fear that keeping it around is only going to push them back.