Polter-Cow Reviews

Sin City (2005)

Quite possibly the noirest movie I have ever seen

[8/10 · 2 April 2005]

I'm not going to tell you that *Sin City* is brilliant and the best movie of the year and visually stunning and unlike anything you've ever seen, because I'm sure you've heard it all before. I'm going to tell you why you should see it.

You should see it if you're a fan of the noir genre. This is quite possibly the noirest movie I have ever seen, and this includes actual noir like *Sunset Boulevard* and *The Big Sleep*. It is positively drenched in noir, from the black-and-white look to the hard-boiled characters, stories, and dialogue. I will give one word of warning here: the movie will feel "off" to you in the first ten minutes since it's highly stylized. But you'll get used to it.

You should see it if you're a fan of comics. Because this will let you see how it might look if you literally transferred a graphic novel from the page to the screen, which is essentially what Robert Rodriguez did. As you watch, you can practically see the panels on paper.

You should see it if you love voiceovers. Because there are a hell of a lot of them, so much so that it often feels as if you're being told a story by the characters. This is, of course, a noir convention.

You should see it if you like Carla Gugino's breasts.

You should see it if you love movies. The way that they can transport you to another world, and for two hours or so, they can so completely engross you that nothing in your own life even seems to exist, all that matters is what's transpiring on the screen.

You should see it if you enjoy a bit of the old ultraviolence. This movie is not for children. Do not take your five-year-old sister, for God's sake. But if you can appreciate guns, arrows, grenades, swords, clubs, and ninja swastikas, then you're golden.

You should see it if you can't tell the difference between a hero and an antihero, and maybe you think there's no real distinction.

You should see it if you liked how in *Pulp Fiction*, three self-contained stories ending up being connected.

You should see it if you can handle gore, ranging from missing limbs to...more missing limbs.

You should see it if you want to see Alexis Bledel show a little range.

You should see it if you want to see something different. Not only visually, but stylistically as well, down to the narrative.

You should see it if you want to see a really good movie. Look, maybe I wasn't physically wowed by it, and I'm not feeling all giddy. But you know when every aspect of a movie, from the acting to the writing to the directing to the everything you can possibly think of, is just so spot-on you can't think of anything to complain about? That's *Sin City*. It's extremely solid, and possibly revolutionary. Go see it.

Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow (2004)

Retro-Futuristic Fun with Impressive Visuals

[8/10 · 17 September 2004]

Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow = ((Star Wars + Raiders of the Lost Ark) * The Iron Giant) / The Shadow

It's so freaking fun. Clearly, the visual style is a big draw, and it doesn't disappoint in that aspect. Your brain's all, "That's real, but wait, I know it's fake, but maybe it's real, it can't be real, right?" Everything is so well integrated, you completely forget it's all actors in front of a blue screen. And the muted colors in the beginning are so lush. There are very few points where anything looked obviously fake. It's very impressive.

But there's not only the retro-futuristic visual style, there's the style of the movie itself, an old-school adventure story with an archetypal hero and heroine. Jude Law is great, and Gwyneth Paltrow has the look down, but she acts like the most annoying backseat adventurer ever: "Joe, look out! What are you doing? You can't do that! We're going to die! What's that? Are you listening to me?" And she's obsessed with "getting the story" and "making sure her camera isn't trampled by giant robots," but not in an adorable Chloe Sullivan way. I'll accept it as part of the trope of 40s backseat heroines. And anyway, the camera ends up being a pretty entertaining running gag. Angelina Jolie is quite obviously enjoying the hell out of herself, and who wouldn't, when you get to wear an eyepatch?

Critics who are complaining about the story can bite me. Sure, the story's pretty ridiculous, but it's very well paced, and the action sequences are incredibly well choreographed and shot, the kind where you end up moving in your seat from side to side to avoid the planes. Kerry Conran's made a movie that gleefully embraces the adventure movie tropes of yore while not being afraid to subvert them for a laugh or two. It's not here to deliver any preachy messages or explore the human condition. It takes you on a ride where even halfway through the movie, it manages to give you the kind of thrill where the audience collectively laughs and spontaneously bursts into applause. I freaking *love* when that happens. That's why you go to the movies, man. I really felt like saying, "This makes me feel like a kid again," except I'm too young to make that sort of statement.

Make sure to look out for a couple of George Lucas references, a timely *THX-1138* reference (at least, I assume it was one) and a scene that looks almost identical to a scene in *Attack of the Clones,* the one movie Kerry Conran's seen since he started working on this film.

Go see *Sky Captain,* peoples. It's the most fun I've had in a theater in a long time.

Spider-Man (2002)

My Really Good Movie Sense is tingling!

[4 May 2002]

*Spider-Man* rocked. There's my two-word review. Details to follow.

I saw *X-Men*, and I thought pretty highly of *that* comic book movie too. I was familiar with it only through the animated series, and the same thing held for *Spider-Man*. How would this compare?

I've decided I can't really make that comparison, because one movie is about a group of superheroes and one is about one particular superhero. Yeah, I'm copping out. Well, they're different approaches...and well, I'm not going to get into that, because I'm not comparing the two movies, I'm reviewing the one.

Oh, where to begin?

So we were all wary about Tobey Maguire. Cause, like, Tobey Maguire? As Spider-Man? Suuuure.

Dude. He kicked web. He gets put through all kinds of emotions in this movie, and if you don't believe me, apparently even the critics are praising his performance.

The thing with Spider-Man is that he's not Spider-Man, he's Peter Parker, the nerdy high school kid that everyone picked on. I don't think I realized how much I had in common with Spidey until I saw this movie.

Kirsten Dunst with red hair. Kirsten Dunst with any hair. I have no complaints. At least David Koepp (yon screenwriter) gave MJ a decent amount of character. And she called Peter "tiger"! (I was all about the yelping at things like that.)

Willem Dafoe as Norman Osborn...well, the guy looks creepy enough. I wasn't so much a fan of the way they handled the split-personality thing with Norman and the Green Goblin. It didn't translate so well to film. Plus, he sounds like Wario. He was a fair villain, and he was a good choice for the first film because of the way they integrated his son Harry into the MJ romance, but I can't wait for the other, more fun villains.

Doc Oc and the Lizard in the sequel!

I want to see Venom! God, I want to see Venom...there, the split-personality thing might come off better...maybe. And Mysterio! Mysterio rules. Chameleon! Maybe not. Scorpion! Rhino! All the other ones!

The origin story takes quite a while; Raimi doesn't rush it too much. (The movie's amazingly well paced. Never a dull moment.) And, well, it's just something else to see it on the big screen. It packs so much power. I don't know how many of you are familiar with it, so I won't go into too much detail, but...really. I can't imagine having to live with that.

The Peter-MJ romance is so damn cute. Koepp writes him an amazingly sweetly beautiful declaration of love. And they of course dance around how much they love each other, and when she finally tells him...

*sigh* Yeah.

Ooh, upside-down kiss! I wouldn't mind upside-down kissing Kirsten Dunst. Of course, I wouldn't mind right-side up kissing her, either.

I wasn't sure whether the CGI webslinger was going to work or not, but it *really* did. It looked like what it would look like if someone actually moved like him. Oh, the webslinging was awesome. God, it was cool. There was some fun cinematography. Nothing really phenomenal, but still great.

Danny Elfman does a great job with the music. Very superhero-y.

What else, what else...corny one-liners! My favorite:

"You're the one whose out, Gobby. Out of your *mind*!"

Really, they look fine in comic books, but when you actually *say* them...hee hee hee.

The movie has a more comic book feel to it than *X-Men*. The opening and closing narrations sound exactly like ones you'd find in an issue. Also, Raimi sometimes overdoes the voiceovers or flashes or the whatever you call it when you fade an image in on half the screen.

But the way he does the Spider Sense is pretty damn slick, though.

Oh! I have to mention J. Jonah Jameson, because he looks *exactly* like he's drawn, and he's hilarious.

I'm informed that they do play the original Spidey theme at the end, so stick around.

All in all, Sam Raimi and David Koepp have delivered one *hell* of a movie, complete with all the angst of being a teenage superhero. Romance. Secret identities. Fighting. Explosions. Upside-down kissing. Webslinging. New York pride. Dr. Pepper.

I can't *wait* for the next one.

A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001)

Worth watching, despite flaws

[6/10 · 29 June 2001]

My rating of this movie (out of 10, as usual) is a *6.1 and a half*. That is much lower than I would have expected, and I may be being generous. You know how I am. I wasn't even hugely excited, and I was still disappointed.

I'm going to have a hard time discussing the movie without going through the whole plot. Once you see it, I'll be glad to talk with you about it. Basically, the problem with this movie is it never figures out what its point is. It jumps from conflict to conflict, yet never seems to link them thematically coherently. I also had a very nagging problem about Henry Swinton's sudden, unexplained character change (in my eyes, he does an about-face on an issue incredibly drastically). Also, it has a Kubrick ending. The last half hour of any Kubrick ending breaks away from the rest of the movie and makes no sense.

Let me regroup.

Ostensibly, the movie is nothing more than a futuristic look at Pinocchio. It owes a huge debt to it, and the movie features the story prominently. David obviously wants to become a real boy. He is the first artificially intelligent robot programmed to love. This concept presents many conflicts. What is love? What does it mean to "program love" into a robot? If a robot can love a human, can a human love a robot? Is an artificially intelligent being considered "real"? Do they have rights? Are they citizens? What does it mean to be human? What is the meaning of life? Will artificial intelligence ultimately destroy us? The problem with the movie is it can't figure out what to focus on, and therefore tries to focus on everything, thereby creating a disjointed storyline where characters disappear, plotlines don't resolve, and themes bounce around but don't cohere, lessening the overall effect. Everything feels like a plot device. And the ending, as I said, comes out of *nowhere*. I was prepared for the movie to end; I was even preparing my mental evaluation of the ending, because it satisfied me to some extent. Then an extra half hour of Kubrick materializes.

What is good about this film? As you would expect, Haley Joel Osment is excellent. His excessive makeup gives him a look "not quite human" and his robotic voice is incredibly convincing. He has not blinking down to an art. Jude Law is very good as well. I liked John Williams' score, especially because he worked with some techno in a couple scenes, which was interesting. The special effects are amazing. All the robots are very, very realistic. Kudos to whoever worked on them, animatronics and effects. Also, just like the disappointing *Shrek* had its Gingerbread Man, who I felt should get his own movie, *A.I.* has Teddy. Every single scene with Teddy is a scene worth watching. Teddy plain rocks. I want Teddy.

All in all, the movie is still worth watching as a whole to at least see the concepts presented, even if they're not handled very well. It's not terrible, though extremists would call it that. Most of the critical reviews have been mixed, and as my score indicates, such opinions are valid. It is a very problematic movie. Much of the time I was thinking, the game is so much better. Much more complex and interesting. But the game is not only completely immersive, but also spanning months and a whole different type of media. It would be very hard to make a movie of the game and do it justice, although, God, I would see it if someone did.

Final judgment: 6.1 and a half. Worth watching, but don't expect too much.

The Replacements (2000)

Enjoyably mediocre

[10 June 2001]

*The Replacements* actually isn't that bad, just, you know, enjoyably mediocre. Sports movies are sports movies, and this one has Keanu Reeves as a football player, Orlando Jones, an Irish guy who says, "Bollocks!" a lot, a Sumo wrestler, two big black bouncers, a very adamantly focused ex-army guy, an attractive love interest with nice cleavage (hey, she's in a cheerleader outfit for half the movie...), a load of strippers-turned-cheerleaders, and Gene Hackman, among other things. It's hard not to be pleased. And it even gets a bit of a nice feel-good message at the end. And it's fun. All in all, it's a good movie to just turn off your brain and enjoy.

Wild Wild West (1999)

Kevin Kline and Kenneth Branagh...and they're not doing Shakespeare?!

[10 June 2001]

I subjected myself to *Wild Wild West*. It wasn't *terrible*, but...well, I really liked Independence Day and Men in Black, and I guess the producers thought..."Hm, movie, we open it on July 4...if it's got Will Smith, we're in shape!" But...Will Smith doesn't automatically make a movie good. You have to give him a good movie. And it's almost unforgiveable to take Kenneth Branagh, one of our greatest Shakespearean actors, and only use his top half, and make that top half look really stupid, and make that top half talk in a stupid Southern accent, and generally waste every bit of his talent. They pop in another Shakespearean for good measure, Kevin Kline. He just about saves the movie from total failure. He gives his role a good shot, and he pleased me, at least. All the gadgets were cool, I guess. And Salma Hayek appears in a throwaway role. Don't even get me started on all the highly annoying anachronisms (calling a tank a tank, calling nitroglycerin "nitro," an incredibly unbelievable hydraulically powered mechanical spider, high-powered magnets that provide a bit of visual humor but throw the laws of electromagnetism out the window...etc). On levels of badness, though, it is at least better than *Big Momma's House*.

Amores Perros (2000)

Bracingly humanist, indeed.

[6 June 2001]

A Mexican foreign film (It was Oscar-nominated, but didn't stand a chance against flying Chinese warriors and the Green Destiny sword), *Amores Perros* tells three tales of love and loss, all connected by a car crash. Thematically, it's pretty depressing, of course, and the stories share common themes of love, loss, and dogs. They all involve dogs, metaphors for the characters in the film and their relationships. Although the stories intertwine loosely, the movie feels like three short films strung together rather than one long movie. Pacing is an issue. It's one of the few movies that I actually think has an issue of pacing rather than being just "slow," like *Eyes Wide Shut*. Another example of a movie with pacing issues is *Screamers*, just so you know. In any case, the film gives you a glimpse of the Mexican underworld, the underbelly of humanity. It is interesting because *Moulin Rouge* celebrates love in all its glory, and then *Amores Perros* comes and illuminates (in a gritty grey brought to us by the shaky camera characteristic of independent film) that sometimes, love and life just ain't that grand.

Unbreakable (2000)

Really good, just short of greatness.

[6 June 2001]

*Unbreakable* is a very good movie that falls short of greatness.

M. Night Shyamalan's direction is in top form. There was hardly a scene in the movie where I wasn't consciously thinking, wow, cool. The direction isn't so much flashy as adamantly non-traditional. He seems to have a preoccupation with mirrors. Many scenes are filmed as reflections off of mirrors, TV screens, or glass cases. The glass does have symbolic value, as does the reflection. Some shots are upside down. One scene is shot from behind curtains being beat by the wind, so you intermittently see the action in between. Conversations are frequently filmed from far away. Oh, and he uses a lot of one-take shots. I love and have a lot of respect for one-take shots. He plays with the camera, hardly ever doing what we think he'll do.

As the opening text intro will tell you, the movie is about comic books. You didn't know that, did you? Yes, apparently Mr. Shyamalan read one too many comic books as a kid, and he dreamed up a movie about the idea that maybe the ideals of comic books can occur in real life, and he then struck a nerve in me because he tackles one of my favorite themes, that of the duality of things. To have good, you must have evil. To have the unbreakable, you must have the breakable.

Bruce Willis is one of my favorite actors, as is Samuel L. Jackson, and they don't disappoint.

Did I mention Shyamalan's use of color? Like in *The Sixth Sense* where he used the color red to signify...I forget, I haven't seen it in a while...but anyway, here he again uses bright color for symbolic value. If you pay attention, it will help you figure out the ending. Yes, I now realize how dumb I was for not seeing the ending coming. And the movie ends. And it has two wholly unnecessary text impositions denoting the fates of the two main characters, and they are way out of place and I wish they weren't there. According to IMDb, they weren't there originally, and I don't understand why Shyamalan, who, as I have pointed out, is an obviously competent director, put them in. And I am left with a feeling that something was missing from the movie. It didn't achieve its full potential. It had a very intriguing idea, and he used it well, but...something was missing. He could have done more with it, I don't know. Extended the meditation, the philosophy, to mean more.

The music is very good as well. Very atmospheric. I liked it.

So don't believe people who tell you it's crap, because it most definitely isn't. I think some people may be completely and utterly satisfied by it. I can't pinpoint where it went wrong. You might not think it goes wrong at all.

Memento (2000)

Blows your mind, then asks you to put it back together.

[10/10 · 6 June 2001]

Really, you need to see this movie. You've never seen anything like it.

This movie requires a hell of a lot of thought. Unlike normal movies which move forward, you don't have to remember every little bit of what happened before all the time. But here, since you see everything backward, you have to keep in your mind what's going to happen so you can make sense of things that *have* happened. At a point, I got worried, because I knew the end was near and I hoped it didn't have a bad ending to ruin a perfectly good movie. But oh, the end is great. By the end, you'll be throughly confused, or pleased if you think you've got it figured out. Don't see it alone; you're going to want people to talk about it with afterward. We think we've got it figured out. But not completely. I'd need to see it again in more detail, and it may even be helpful to view the movie *forwards*.

There is the plot at hand, and there is the pervasive meditation on the nature of memory. Memories change. What is real? Truth, lies, all blend into one.

Part of the movie does move forward, though, in scenes intercut between the reverse vignettes. It's brilliant, really, having Leonard telling his story to someone on the phone, conveniently telling us as well, so we are educated about his condition and what he's done about it.

Notably, the story is told backwards. Much has been made of the fact that a *Seinfeld* episode did it, and so did Harold Pinter's *Betrayal*, and I'm sure others as well, but here there is a very damn good reason for it. By watching the events in reverse, *we* are in Leonard's shoes. We feel the same disorientation, the same confusion. He can't remember what he's done, and we can't see the next few minutes of the reel. This leads to some absolutely hilarious jokes, as well as some cleverly ironic twists.

Teddy (Joe Pantaliano of *Matrix* fame) and Natalie (Carrie-Anne Moss, also of *Matrix* fame), apparently. There are very few characters in the film, but the few there are are very important.

*Memento* is about Leonard Shelby (played beautifully by Guy Pearce, of *L.A. Confidential* fame), a man who is trying to find the man that raped and murdered his wife. There's just one problem: trying to stop it, he took a blow to the head, and now he has a unique amnesia where he cannot for new memories. He can remember everything before the incident, but every fifteen minutes, his short-term memory is wiped clean. He must take pictures, leave himself notes, give himself tattoos. Whom can he trust?

You've heard the hype, I'm sure. And I'm just going to add to it, and tell you to get off your damn computer and go see this movie.

I saw *Memento*! And it was freaking awesome! Christopher Nolan is my new hero.

Mission to Mars (2000)

An inspired rant on how much this movie sucks

[6 June 2001]

(I'll put a SPOILER WARNING on this one. But it really doesn't matter. This movie doesn't have a plot worth being spoiled. It comes spoiled. Rotten. Putrid.)

I generally do not dislike movies. One big exception to that is *The Thin Red Line*. That movie was heaped with critical praise and hailed as high art, though. This one was almost universally lambasted by critics, and with good reason. I had no idea a movie could be so bad. I was still trying to comprehend how bad it was the next morning.

Tell me, oh tell me, in what kind of a movie is the pivotal moment the revelation of something the trailer has already told us? You see, the trailer makes the movie sound action-packed and cool: "For centuries, man has been looking for the origin of life on Earth. We've been looking on the wrong planet." Oh, so this is going to be a movie about the origin of life on Mars! And there will be Martians, and pseudoscience, and maybe the ramifications of this revelation on Earth! Um, no. The movie acts as if the revelation that life originated on Mars is a spectacular end in and of itself, and proceeds to end, not caring what happens next.

In the first half hour, a group of astronauts go investigate something on Mars, and a giant whirlwind tornado thing attacks them, ripping one guy into lots of pieces. THIS IS THE BEST PART IN THE ENTIRE MOVIE. Really, this is the one scene that has action in it, and the trailer makes it look like the whole movie is this cool.

Then the movie spends, and I kid you not, an entire HOUR on generic space disaster crap that has absolutely no point beyond dragging the movie on for an hour. Now, if they had taken this hour and done something useful with it, like WRITE A GODDAMN MOVIE...And they have a character who dies. He comes along for the ride, and he dies. They try to make his death all dramatic and stuff, but who cares. We feel nothing for these characters. Nothing. They're just there. According to the back of the box, this space disaster crap and dying is supposed to be about the theme of friendship. "Only their friendship can save them now..." Whatever.

Oh, and the music! It's just so...stupid! During all this space disaster crap, there's this dumb jangling piano thing, which I guess is Brian de Palma thinking he's Stanley Kubrick.

This movie is just plain bad, people. I don't see how it's possible for ANYONE to like this movie. Really, it's that bad. How CAN you like it when it revolves around telling you something you already know that has the possibility for making a good movie, but they don't bother with making a good movie after finding out the something. They just make a bad movie to find out the something. At least it's not three damn hours long, like *The Thin Red Line*....If you have any doubt that there is such a thing as a bad movie, hey, watch *Mission to Mars*!

Traffic (2000)

A fine specimen of film, but a great movie?

[6 June 2001]

Some movies, like *Requiem for a Dream* or *Memento*, have this big hype, and everyone tells you it's great...and they're right. Those movies are ones I rave and gush about and will pull people off the street and tell them to see them. *Traffic*, however, was similarly purportedly great, but I don't feel like running around screaming, "See *Traffic*!"

I didn't dislike it. It's a good movie. It's directed well, it's very finely acted. If you didn't really believe Catherine Zeta-Jones could act, here she is, acting. It's very complex, with multiple characters doing things and running into each other. Fun stuff. There's also this really cool upside-down helicopter shot...unforgettable and very unique. Never seen anything like it.

The color schemes were interesting as well. The three storylines that play out were all shot through different filters. One is normal. One has a blue tinge to it. And the best one is the one used for any scene in Mexico, which was a washed out yellow. I can't imagine a better way to shoot it. It added so much atmosphere to those scenes. The blue was a bit problematic; it didn't seem consistent.

But it just didn't do much for me. It had me for a while, and then it just dropped me off and said, "Okay, you're just going to watch the movie now." It's also quite long. But still, it didn't really pull me in and make me feel anything. It didn't scream, "I am a damn cool movie!" I appreciated the fine acting I was seeing, and the expert quick editing, but, well, the story just didn't really grab me.

It's not a bad movie. It is a good movie. And I am sure some people will like it more than I. It's kind of like *Chinatown*. Good, but why is it great? I don't know. See it for yourself, and make your own decision.

Requiem for a Dream (2000)

The reason we invented celluloid

[10/10 · 6 June 2001]

*Requiem* is an experience. It is a ride. It is a descent into hell itself. Your eyes do not want to leave the screen, yet they want to look away from the horror of it all. I'm still shaking, and not just because it's cold outside. If there is a theater anywhere near you showing this movie, see it at a theater. I don't think it can have quite the same impact on a small screen.

The movie follows four characters. Sara, mother of Harold, is an obsessive TV-watcher who becomes addicted to diet pills when she is told she has won a chance to be on TV. Harry, his friend Tyrone, and his girlfriend Marion all shoot heroin and snort cocaine. The simple blurb is that the movie shows how each character's addiction to drugs destroys him.

Darren Aronofsky's touch is evident. Remember those oh-so-cool quick cuts of Max popping pills that emphasized how routine the action was? Well, that technique is back, and with a vengeance. In a few seconds you get cut - drop - roll - snort - dilate, complete with sound effects. It's a wonder this didn't get nominated for sound editing; the effect is amazing. Aronofsky also has another trick up his sleeve in that in several scenes, he uses a split screen to his advantage. Even the opening credits should be noted, the way the white names appear on the black for a few seconds, and then the black eats away at them until they are devoured.

Speaking of devoured, don't be surprised if after seeing this movie, you're a tad afraid of your refrigerator.

For the first third or so, the movie is very beautiful. The relationship between Harry and Marion is portrayed effectively, lovingly, by both the actors and the director. One of my favorite scenes in the movie is the scene in which Harry and Marion lie head to head with feet pointed in opposite directions, and the camera circles slowly above them, and in their calm, drug-induced bliss, they express their love. "You make me feel human," she says.

The actors themselves, too, are beautiful. Jennifer Connelly, Ellen Burstyn, Jared Leto, and Marlon Wayans. You see them, how happy they are...and you watch them destroy themselves. The acting, as it must be, is excellent. Marlon Wayans actually *can* act, my friends. And Ellen Burstyn, nominated (and rightly so) for an Academy Award, has a lot to handle for her role, and she executes it with unflinching grace. Watching her onscreen, seeing her face and what it does, you wonder how she's doing it, how horrible it must be inside her head to make it so convincing.

As he did in *Pi*, Aronofsky uses music to its full potential, with a haunting score, the strings performed by the Kronos Quartet. I just saw *Yi Yi*, which uses almost no music but for the beginning and end, and I greatly appreciated that. Life has no soundtrack; it was effective. But I am once again reminded how much music can do for a film.

Words really can't describe how this movie feels.

During the horrific climactic sequence (you'll know it when it happens), my whole body had chills running through it. I felt the beginnings of tears in my eyes. I knew that if it pulled the right strings, it might get tears from me. It was just absolutely horrible to watch what these people had become. They weren't *bad* people. They all had their dreams...and all they received was a requiem. After the heartbreaking denouement ended to begin the credits, I couldn't move. I couldn't speak.

There is *no* redemption in this film. The title tells it all. This is a requiem. This is not a happy movie. At all. It won't restore your faith in humanity. It will restore your faith in film, however, and what it can do. (Why this movie wasn't nominated for more Oscars is beyond me. Technically, this movie is masterful. Editing, Directing, Sound, Score...all should have been nominated. As long as Darren Aronofsky stays true to himself and doesn't succumb to the Hollywood machine, the next *Batman* is going to kick serious butt.)

I am glad that this movie was simply about the horrors of drug addiction. If someone could make a movie this effective, this powerful, about the horrors of humanity in general, I just might have to go kill myself.

Nurse Betty (2000)

Delightfully unexpected, and unexpectedly delightful.

[6 June 2001]

This movie is held together by Renée Zellweger's overwhelming cuteness. Among other things.

It's a movie that jumps between offbeat loony fun and gunplay and death, often without success. You could call it a dark comedy, except the comedy is light, and the dark is just...dark. The death isn't actually funny, and I don't know whether it was supposed to be, with how gruesome (and at one point, tragic) it is.

And that is just about the only problem I had with the movie. It's very funny, and, by God, it's intelligent, inspired humor, something Tom Green just wouldn't understand. And it also tackles the idea of reality not measuring up to the dream.

Zellweger is a big fan of a *General Hospital*-esque soap opera, and is like, *totally* in love with the main character. Except when she experiences a bit of trauma, she goes a bit nuts and actually *does* fall in love with him, and goes after him. Meanwhile, Morgan Freeman and Chris Rock are after her for a reason you shall discover if you are smart enough to listen to me and watch the movie. Chris Rock is great, funny...and violent. Performances great across the board. Music deliciously sappy when needed, since a lot of the movie is soap opera parody.

So see *Nurse Betty*. It's delightfully unexpected, and unexpectedly delightful.

Dancer in the Dark (2000)

Beautiful and inhumanly sad all at once

[6 June 2001]

I saw *Dancer in the Dark*. I will first let loose the things I didn't like so much about the movie.

The movie doesn't get good for 40 minutes. I was really tired, and the exposition is just so interminably *boring*. I was seriously wondering what all the hoopla was about. I was nodding off, fighting to stay awake. Also, some people may have a problem with Lars von Trier's way of editing the movie like a documentary, even though it's not really filmed like a documentary. By this I mean there are a lot of abrupt, unnatural cuts, and he make no attempt to smooth them out. After a while, you get used to it, though.

Approximately 40 minutes in, the movie takes off. The basic premise is that Selma, played by Bjork, is going blind, and she is saving up money so her son can have an operation and not suffer the same fate. She works in a factory, and she absolutely loves musicals. What happens, then, is that she has these fantasies where she puts herself in a musical, because in a musical, "nothing dreadful ever happens." About 40 minutes in, I started hearing the factory noises and noticing how they sounded like music. At that moment, to my delight, Selma noticed it too, and bam, the first of many surreal musical sequences commenced. These musical sequences are the highlight of the film. Some people may not be fans of Bjork's voice or her style of singing, but I like it. It's very ethereal, and Selma sings her thoughts, making these musical sequences not so extraneous. I was just fascinated and delighted that someone else had noticed the music all around us. The tapping of my fingers on the keyboard: that's music. There would probably be a scene where keyboard-tapping led into a song, but the movie's set in 1964.

One thing I'd like to mention is that the "I've Seen It All" in the movie is much better than the version Bjork sang at the Oscars. It's a very clever, amusing song. The factory song is also one of my favorites. The way the ordinary people make a dance out of ordinary movements...it's just so very cool. Sitting down, standing up, cutting wood, pulling levers...in Selma's mind, it becomes part of the musical. There's also a tap dancing scene. And all through you have Bjork's unique voice, which can make a beautiful song when all she's singing is numbers.

Bjork won the Best Actress award at Cannes in her film debut, and deservedly so. I tried to find the actress behind the character, and I couldn't. She's just so perfect for the character; her performance is incredibly genuine. It's a shame she's vowed never to act again.

I came into the movie knowing the small plot synopsis I told you, and I will not tell you any more than that. I like knowing as little as possible, because then everything's a surprise. Let's just say since I had no real idea what the movie was about, I was surprised to see the turn it took. I will tell you this: if you cry easily, you will cry. The best the final scene could muster out of me was a biting of my lip. But yes, be prepared for tears.

I really, really wish the first 40 minutes had been more interesting. I could love this movie. It's so beautiful in its outlook on life...Selma is truly an example for us all. She hears the music of life; she sings her heart. She...well, I think watching the movie will explain what I'm trying to say.

American Pie (1999)

Not as funny as it thinks it is

[6 June 2001]

I just watched *American Pie*, the much-talked about blockbuster hit of the summer of '99, the year that many, many far superior movies came out.

The Matrix. eXistenZ. Run Lola Run. The Blair Witch Project. Three Kings. American Beauty. Go. And those are just some of the ones I've *seen*.

Highlights of *American Pie* include the presence of Alyson Hannigan, Natasha Lyonne, and Tara Reid having an orgasm. And scattered amusing scenes, and a couple good lines.

But it's really not that funny, unless you find it funny. Sex can be funny, yes. *Sex and the City*, *Election*, and countless others have proved that sex can be done very humorously to affect me. I'm not going to try to analyze what they do, but I do know what *American Pie* does: It assumes that anything involving sex is inherently funny. A guy screwing an apple pie? Okay, kind of amusing, but the scene's a huge letdown since you basically see everything you could possibly see in the trailer. It's like the *Scary Movie* philosophy: People having sex is funny.

And then there's the scene where the stereotypical jerk spikes the oddball's mochaccino with laxatives. Okay, now how many freaking times have I seen someone's drink spiked with laxatives for comic effect? I think I've lost count. It may have been a bit funny the first time, but it's not now, and we definitely don't need to see anyone on a toilet with repulsive sound effects. Is this the best Adam Herz could do? Perhaps my idea of clever is different from everyone else's.

So *American Pie* didn't suck, per se. It had its moments, and I laughed more at it than I laughed at *Big Momma's House* (I think that made me laugh...twice), although I'm sure the filmmakers thought I would laugh more.

Deep Blue Sea (1999)

Fun and entertaining

[6 June 2001]

After the opening scene of *Deep Blue Sea*, in which (predictably) a shark terrorizes a quartet of partying teenagers on a boat, I decided I was in for a crappy movie. A crappy movie that would contain basically every movie AND horror movie cliche I could think of. I was right. And wrong.

I will say that the premise for this movie is great: super-intelligent sharks. Sharks are bad enough, but...smart sharks? Immediately you have terrifying possibilities running through your mind. The sad fact, though, is that this is one of those movies where the screenwriters (and I can't believe it took three people to come up with this) threw some dice and picked which character was going to die next. That's what the plot boils down to: things go wrong; someone dies. More things go wrong; someone else dies. And so on. People whom you couldn't care less about die. People who you really don't want to see die die.

The people are an interesting band of characters. The female scientist, pleasing to the eye and the ear (I'm a sucker for accents), is utterly consumed by her research. (And for all you testosterone-driven males, she does strip down to her underwear in one scene.) Samuel L. Jackson goes about saying his lines as president of a pharmaceutical company. I just love the way Michael Rapaport talks: he's welcome in any movie. LL Cool J deftly provides the comic relief and was clearly the audience favorite. Sure, there are some other characters, but pretty much everyone's one-dimensional, as expected.

I think I've bashed this movie enough. It's time to get to the crux of the argument: this is an entertaining movie. As soon as the movie entered the lab facility, I became completely immersed in the film. As the movie progressed, I didn't think about how long it had gone on and mentally calculate how much was left. Once the trouble started, the movie grabbed me and never let go. I was not perhaps literally on the edge of my seat, but no outside thoughts penetrated my mind. It's not that the movie is scary or anything; it's that it's suspenseful. Predictably suspenseful, but suspenseful nonetheless. There is one scene in the film (I cannot conclusively tell whether it falls nearer or the beginning or the middle because, as I said, I lost track of time) during which I sensed the ENTIRE AUDIENCE jumping out of their seats. At the risk of getting off on a tangent, the sharks were believable. And the speed at which they moved unnerved me. They did succeed at their purpose: to keep a continual shudder running through my body. Let's just say you couldn't get me within ten miles of that facility. Oh, look, I did get off on a tangent, just great. At times I of course found myself wondering why some of these characters were so unbelievably stupid in their actions, but it's all part of the fun. And that's what I ended up deciding about this movie: it was fun. Blood-soaked, cringe-inducing fun.

A Midsummer Night's Dream (1999)

Saved by a few great performances

[6 June 2001]

The film does what it sets out to do: bring the play to the screen. I doubt it shall take a place among the great, memorable film adaptations, but it is good nonetheless. Kevin Kline is a wonderful Bottom, and Stanley Tucci as Puck and Rupert Everett as Oberon also shine. Writer/director Michael Hoffman struggles to create a dreamlike atmosphere of fairyland, but he never really brought me in. He does, however, do fun things with the Pyramus and Thisbe production, especially with Moonshine. And although Calista Flockhart took a bit of getting used to, I did accept her Helena. All in all, a worthy effort, but nothing magnificent.

Shrek (2001)

Good, but disappointing and overrated

[6 June 2001]

*Shrek* had a high bar to reach. Stellar reviews, good word-of-mouth, and my own anticipation since seeing the first trailer all led to a high degree of wanting it to be really, really *Memento*-good. While I've got *Memento* on my tongue, I can segue by saying that that movie lived up to the hype, while *Shrek* didn't quite make it all the way.

I was very, very worried at the beginning. During the opening credits, they employ more gross humor than I've seen in some entire movies. Burping, farting, bug-eating, implied excrement, whatever they could think of. I was afraid. Where was the wit? The clever fracturing of fairy tales?

The clever fracturing of fairy tales, I discovered, was not as prominent as I had thought and wished. Save for a few scenes at the beginning and the end, and one or the two in the middle, there isn't really that much of it. And most of what there was, I'd already seen in the trailers. The Gingerbread Man, however, should get his own movie. And I really love the Merry Men scene. I expected more of that kind of fun, but there wasn't.

Where does the other humor come from? References to the butt, farting, jokes about how "short" [cough, cough] Lord Farquaad is, some nice Disneyland bits...and the fact that Eddie Murphy is speaking. He talks. A lot. But I like Eddie Murphy. The way he speaks, it's as if he believes that everything that comes out of his mouth is comic gold. Some of it's pretty funny. Some of it's just odd, but it's said amusingly. Some of it's just...hm, okay, he said what was in the script. But there are other really good elements of humor that I won't mention here because one good element of humor is the element of surprise.

Mike Myers is excellent as well. I could hardly tell it was him. He uses a Canadian/Scottish hybrid accent that works very well. I read an article about how he actually begged to re-record his lines in this new accent because he didn't think he'd captured his character right the first time. It set the movie back three months and increased the budget by $4 million. Katzenberg thought it was worth it, and I think so too. Chris Farley was actually slated to play Shrek, and had actually recorded some lines before he died, but hearing Mike Myers' portrayal of him, I can't imagine Chris Farley doing it. I don't think he could have given him the genuine emotion that Shrek has now.

Cameron Diaz. Hm. For the first fifteen minutes Princess Fiona talked, all I could see was Cameron Diaz speaking her lines in the recording room. I couldn't see the *character* saying the lines for some reason. I guess her voice was right for the character, but it took a while to get used to it.

John Lithgow's great, but that goes without saying.

The animation, as expected, is spectacular. It's just so amazing to see these 3-d characters walk around in their 3-d environment.

So, overall...I think the movie could have been a *lot* better. Oh, I forgot to mention the music. I didn't recognize more than half the songs, but I suppose many of you will. Geez, sheesh, I sound like I hated the movie. I really didn't. My problem is I came in with really high expectations that weren't met. There's a lot of great stuff, and it's a very enjoyable movie (Enjoyability is always a plus for me). It does get my blessing and recommendation, but I just warn that you don't get caught up in all the hype. One review I just read ended with, "but it's no *Toy Story 2*." It isn't, but I think it could have been.

An Ideal Husband (I) (1999)

Incredibly witty, skillfully plotted, intelligently directed, and attractively womaned.

[6 June 2001]

What a delightfully entertaining movie! British people are funny! What can I say about this movie? Incredibly witty, skillfully plotted, intelligently directed, and attractively womaned. And manned! Thoroughly enjoyable for those who are looking for comedy not of the "gross-out" variety.

Moulin Rouge! (2001)

Transcendently beautiful. A contribution to cinema.

[10/10 · 2 June 2001]

*Moulin Rouge* is unlike any movie you've ever seen, even though it's just like every movie you've ever seen. It is the classic tale of boy loves girl, girl loves boy, one-dimensional villain gets in the way, the lovers spout cliches, and then either they live happily ever after, one of them dies, or they both die. Somehow, though, it transcends all these cliches and becomes something magnificent.

A beautiful and often hilarious movie, it will probably be criticized as being "style over substance." Hogwash. *Moulin Rouge* is a ride. Not a Tunnel of Love, but more like a Wind Tunnel of Love. A radio DJ said of the movie, "It's like you stuck No-Doze in every orifice of your body and drank a Mt. Dew." For much of the first half, this is largely true. It almost feels like you're watching a music video, with frenetic action accelerated by dozens of frenzied cuts. Luhrmann recalls the slapstick comedy of yore, complete with exaggerated pratfalls and goofy sound effects. He immerses you in this world. I turned to my friend and said, "This is the craziest ****ing movie I've seen in a long time." The camera...oh, the camera. It zooms in and out, and flies around the elaborate set. The film is a directorial field day for Luhrmann. He creates a fairytale world, complete with a drug-induced Green Fairy voiced by Ozzy Osbourne.

Like *A Knight's Tale*, it uses anachronistic music. Although I haven't seen *A Knight's Tale*, I believe it is far more effective here. In the Moulin Rouge, music and songs from the 20th century become integrated into the world of 1900 Paris. The amazing thing is, it fits. The patrons of the cabaret chant, "Here we are now, entertain us, we feel stupid and contagious." Luhrmann uses the music as if it were actually in existence at that time, and by doing so, he shows the universality of it. Music is one of those universal languages, and the most universal form of all is the love song. Whether it is 1900 Paris, 1987 Chicago, or 1473 Spain, love is love. The words Madonna, Sting, Elton John, and countless others used to portray love would have been just as appropriate back then, but they never had a chance to hear them. In one brilliant sequence, Christian (Ewan MacGregor) and Satine (Nicole Kidman) sing a dialogue about love, fluidly jumping from love song to love song, lyric to lyric. They don't sing these songs as songs; they sing them like they *mean* them. It is like a very trippy musical.

The fact that Luhrmann pulls together a great deal of love songs is the key to appreciating the movie, because the love between Christian and Satine is idealized. It simply comes into existence and is there in its purest form between them, without logic, without sense. Over and over again, we are reminded that above all, this story is about love. And it really is *about* love. It is love in cinematic form. It is a visual and aural representation of what love is, what it means, and how important it is to human beings.

The movie would not be able to get this across if Ewan MacGregor and Nicole Kidman (looking more beautiful than ever) did not give incredible performances. You can see it in their eyes. You feel their pain. You feel their happiness. The supporting cast supports, as well it should. Jim Broadbent (Gilbert in *Topsy Turvy*) plays the owner of the Moulin Rouge, Harold Zidler. John Leguizamo is real-life midget artist Toulouse-Lautrec, a character I believe is akin to Shakespeare's Fool. And all of the cast can sing unexpectedly well, from a hilariously lyricized can-can to a hilarious "Like a Virgin," from beautiful love songs to a disturbingly appropriate "Roxanne."

The music is wonderful, from the orchestral score to the electronica. I advise you to stay and watch the closing credits, not only because you get to hear more music but also because it's not your typical black screen/white letters crawl, and it gives some predictable but appreciated closure at the end.

All in all, *Moulin Rouge* grabs you and hits you with the sheer power of itself. When the movie ended, the audience was completely silent. I couldn't really speak. I felt like I felt at the end of *Requiem for a Dream*, except less like I was about to die and more like I had just been handed a transcendent feeling to simply experience, enjoy, and learn from. It is the best new movie I've seen since *Memento*, and as this looks like a slow year for great movies, look for it come Oscar time. Go see it. Now.