Bay Hasn't 'Fallen' This Time

by Brett Parker

So here’s my deal: I was a huge fan of Transformers growing up. My brother and I used to collect all the action figures and we’d always plop in front of the TV every afternoon to watch their cartoon adventures. On an intellectual level, it’s perhaps a preposterous concept to have robots that transform into various vehicles battle each other on the principal that good and evil must endlessly battle each other, but there was an intoxicating excitement to be held in our childlike hearts whenever a new episode of the series graced the television screen. To this day, I’m still thrilled by the animated movie from 1986. It’s still kind of traumatizing to watch Optimus Prime take those crucial laser beams to the chest.

In 2007, Michael Bay and Steven Spielberg teamed up to make a live-action Transformers movie and the result was an adrenaline-fueled blockbuster adventure that displayed some of the most impressive special effects work I’ve ever seen. The Transformers were brought to such grand and vivid life, I was in awe of how a live-action production could do full justice to their robotic bodies. If the film had any flaws, it was to be found in its lightweight human story. It wasn’t easy watching Shia LaBeouf, an actor of considerable wit and coolness, being branded as a pathetic dweeb and ultra-sexpot Megan Fox was way too sensual to simply be a high-school love interest. She seemed more appropriate as a femme fatale in a film noir. She and LaBeouf seemed like such a mismatch. Nonetheless, Transformers delivered the action goods; it honored fond memories of the cartoon series and wonderfully displayed the underrated and competent talents of director Michael Bay.

As I prepared to catch Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, the current sequel in the franchise, I discovered an overwhelming amount of negative feedback from the film’s reviews. It currently holds a 21% “rotten” reading on Rottentomatoes.com and Peter Travers of Rolling Stone thinks the film “has a shot at the title Worst Film of the Decade.” I’ve seen the sequel for myself, and I must say that Travers needs to chill the hell out. Revenge of the Fallen is an eye-popping, slam-bang summer entertainment that delivers exactly what it promises: a whole lot of action, humor, sexiness, and dazzling special effects. It’s pretty much on the same level as the first film, although I give the sequel more of an edge for showing more mastery with its human plotting. If this is indeed the “Worst Film of the Decade,” then we my friends have had a monumentally incredible decade of cinema.

The film picks up some time after plucky teenager Sam Whitwicky (LaBeouf) and his love interest Mikaela Barnes (Fox) survived an alien robot battle between the Good Autobots and the Evil Decepticons. Trying to resume a normal life, Sam prepares to head off to college while maintaining a long-distance relationship with Mikaela and his faithful Transformer Bumblebee, who doubles as his hot Camero. Meanwhile, Major Lennex (Josh Duhamel) leads a U.S. task force that enables the Autobots to battle and dispose of any remaining Decepticons still roaming the planet. The Autobots’ are very successful in their efforts, leading the government to believe if the robots should remain on the planet or not.

Yet the Decepticons don’t stay down for very long. The defeated Megatron is resurrected by his ally Starscream and is brought before an ancient Decepticon leader named the Fallen who wishes to assault Earth with full force. Word of this attack makes its way back to the Autobots who realize that Sam may hold the key to defeating the Decepticons and saving the world. This is where the plot gets super-complicated, so I’ll only reveal that this leads the main characters to Egypt where they discover secrets about the Transformers’ past and a violent showdown erupts across the deserts and pyramids of the ancient landscape.

Since the first film got most of the franchise’s exposition out of the way, Revenge of the Fallen becomes one of those sequels that dives head-first into its action and doesn’t let up. The film rolls out more impressive-looking Transformers than the first film and attempts to top the first installment in the action sequence department. I think it succeeds in that aspect. If you admire good special effects, then it’ll be ultra hard to resist the technical artistry of the Transformers this time out, especially as they slam and battle each other way harder than the first film. Picture the climax of the first film taking up half of this film’s screen time.

I was also extremely pleased to find myself enjoying the human story way more than the last time around. Shia LaBeouf is thankfully a lot less Screech this time and refreshingly more Lenny Bruce. Almost everything he says within the film’s first hour is comic gold (I liked how he refers to the hoodie he wore in the first film as his “Super Bowl jersey”). And even though the camera lingers heavily on Megan Fox’s smoldering beauty, she ends up bringing a lot more warmth and sincerity to her role than last time. I also found myself enjoying Sam’s college life which is depicted not as real life, but as a heightened Hollywood sitcom. Sam’s roommate and professor are made to be bizarre caricatures, his mother has a deranged episode with “special brownies,” and a frat party is made to resemble the club scene from Bad Boys. This would seem cheap and offensive in most films, but there’s a fun comic charm to it in this one.

When it comes to cinema, there are some aspects in which you either see the glass half full or half empty. That is certainly the case with Michael Bay’s films. Most see them as cheap action thrills gone offensively berserk, yet there are some who see adrenaline-fueled movie environments basked in breezy excitement. The Criterion Edition of Armageddon features a rather insightful essay by Jeanine Basinger that will honestly make you reevaluate Bay’s techniques in a new light. She describes him as “a master of movement, light, color, and shape” who wonderfully exemplifies “fast cutting, impressive special effects, and a minimum of exposition.” She may be right, for Bay is certainly not the soulless commercial monster moviegoers make him out to be. There is certainly a distinctive elegance and heightened drama to be found in all his films. He’s almost like Spielberg in the way he finds fluid camera movements to uniquely convey time and space while displaying stories that, when you think about it, play on grand cinematic emotions. Sure, his film universes may be cynical, sexist, and overflowing with testosterone, but like great filmmakers, he makes us feel like these universes truly matter. There’s an all or nothing feel to his work. While he undeniably indulges in fast-paced editing, it only heightens the anxiety and intensity of his action scenarios. It’s certainly not as offensive as its been in more recent and inferior action flicks.

No matter what you think of Bay, there is no denying that he is the perfect fit for the Transformers franchise. He has a gift for making cheap action scenarios feel more grand and dramatic than they probably deserve to be, and this gift is certainly welcome in a plot where giant robots pound on each other endlessly. I’ve always suspected that the Transformers films are in fact Bay’s most autobiographical films. I can picture the young Michael Bay being a lot like Sam Whitwicky, an outcast who is critical of suburban normalcy and yearns for the fantastical. As Sam turns his back on college life to run off into a grand adventure with hot babes and hot cars, we can sense Bay having such daydreams in his youth.

Despite my praise, Revenge of the Fallen does in fact earn some of the more negative criticisms I’ve read about the film. The film’s third act does grow rather lengthy as the battles between the robots seem to go on forever. Despite his fast cutting, Bay has always had a problem with length and prolonged action scenes. If he trimmed his action sequences down to half their length, his films would probably feel more effective. Bay also has a reputation for cruising past important plot points, leaving the audience confused about the story. That is strongly felt this time, for the Transformers mythology carries so many characters and ancient subplots that it gets confusing keeping track of which robots are which and just what in god’s name is going down in Egypt.

Yet these are only minor complaints. Revenge of the Fallen is definitely not high art, but I don’t understand why critics are spitting venom at the film. It wants nothing more than to be a roller-coaster ride of action fun, so why is it being condemned for doing so? Besides its length and coherence, the film is being criticized for its lack of humanity and emotions. To that I say, when you’re dealing with giant robots, how much humanity and emotions do you actually expect? All you can really ask for is eye candy, big laughs, and endless thrills. These are things that Michael Bay certainly knows how to deliver.

To read Jeanine Basinger's Criterion essay on Armageddon in its entirety, check out http://www.criterion.com/current/posts/48

A Fun Ride on 'Pelham 1 2 3'

by Brett Parker

A group of armed madmen seize control of a New York subway and demand a high-priced ransom or else they’ll murder every passenger on the train. That’s the set-up up for The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3, a remake of the 1974 thriller, and let’s face it, we’ve dealt with a million cinematic scenarios just like this one before. While every genre of film has the ability to surprise, the Hostage movie really does feel like an exhausted premise. It seems like Spike Lee retired the prize with Inside Man.

Yet you shouldn’t count this Hollywood remake out just yet. With the seasoned Tony Scott behind the camera, you can expect plenty of adrenaline and testosterone no matter what kind of plot he’s taking on. And he really doesn’t disappoint this time; he pumps plenty of juice and relevance into this routine material while basking it in his trademark frantic energy. It also helps matters that Denzel Washington and John Travolta, who can be the most compelling of movie stars, take standard roles and bring unexpected angles and weight to them with surprising conviction.

The film opens on a seemingly ordinary day for the New York Transit System. We see the Subway control center where Transit workers can monitor the activity of all trains on a giant computer. Walter Garber (Washington) is working dispatch at the center and notices that the Pelham 1 2 3 train is not following its scheduled path. The computer identifies that it’s veering off into different directions and separating from attached subway cars. Garber radios the train to find out from Motorman Jerry (Gary Basaraba) what’s going on, but instead he hears the threatening voice of a man who calls himself Ryder (Travolta). “This is the guy who’s gonna give the city a run for its money!” he declares with a madman’s glee.

It is discovered that Ryder is the leader of a gang of thugs who’ve forced their way onto the train with guns and taken hostages. They have the subway car stopped in an isolated section of the underground (where internet and phone signals can’t reach) and demand millions of dollars from the city of New York. If the ransom is not delivered within one hour, Ryder will kill a passenger for “every minute it’s late.” The Mayor (James Gandolfini) catches word of this and races to get the ransom paid with the assistance of the NYPD. Meanwhile, Ryder and Garber keep each other in check over the transit radio waves as they try to figure each other out while discovering the startling things they have in common.

Over the past few years, it seems that Tony Scott has really indulged in a frantic style of editing that shows no mercy for subtlety. This style skewered the competence of Man on Fire yet complemented the deranged nature of Domino. With Déjà vu, Scott’s last outing with Washington, he seemed to find an appropriate balance between his kinetic pacing and attentive scenes of peculiar character development. Pelham 1 2 3 further perfects this delicate balance, for Scott has shown he knows when to speed things up and when to slow down for more dramatic moments. His high plot velocity is welcomed this time because it allows the viewer to feel the compressed anxiety of the ransom timeline and the unrelenting tension of a hostage situation. He even puts his playful use of title cards to good use as he maps out the times and locations of this pot-boiling situation. He even adds some gratuitous action excitement by inducing hard-hitting car crashes into the plot as well as a midtown standoff that displays two criminals who really don’t want to go back to prison. In such standard cinematic territory, jolts like these are welcomed with open arms.

In his earlier works, Scott had a knack for expressing peculiar character attention in tough guy action scenarios. Top Gun, for example, was just as interested in the pilot’s egos as it was the aerial photography. Plus most people cherish his cult classic True Romance for its patient scenes of colorful dialogue. What makes his Pelham 1 2 3 remake so special is the way it develops the personalities of Garber and Ryder, savoring their personal flaws and moral ambiguities. The screenplay by Brian Helgeland (the Oscar winner for L.A. Confidential) doesn’t paint them as Good-Evil counterparts but shows how they are both linked by similar shortcomings and were deeply affected by shady details from their pasts. By observing these two, the movie becomes a sly meditation on the moral boundaries we’re willing to cross for personal gain. Both Garber and Ryder have violated serious rules but felt they were justified in seeking what they felt they deserved. These complications spare the dialogue from being less mundane and more unique on ideas of right and wrong.

It’s kind of surprising to see Washington and Travolta work so well in these familiar roles, since we’d expect them to work better the other way around. Washington can display boiling rage like no other while Travolta has a great talent for playing kind everymen. We almost wonder if this movie would work slightly better if these two actors switched roles. But maybe that would’ve been a tad predictable, for most of the film’s fun comes in watching them put their own stamp on unexpected archetypes. Washington put on weight and dialed down his natural smoothness to wonderfully convince us he is a troubled everyman. As an actor who usually walks with confidence through action plots, its fun to watch him play a normal bystander in over his head. Travolta turns his tics and intensity up to the absolute max to channel the maddening rage of his wounded villain. He paints Ryder not so much as mindless evil but a flawed man who was pushed beyond his absolute breaking point and is out for thoughtfully justified revenge. It’s really interesting when you reflect on the presumed journey from who his character was to what he’s become. It’s one of his more convincing villainous turns.

The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3 wisely falls somewhere between a fun action vehicle and a timely thriller of relevance. While it never transcends the level of a fun adrenaline ride, it does evoke some interesting thoughts on our times with details concerning Wall Street and a Bloomberg-like Mayor (Gandolfini has great fun with the role…as so do we). Of course, this is not high concept originality, but in a summer movie season, it’s nice to see a skilled thriller with surprisingly fun performances and more brains in its head than initially anticipated.

A Con Caper in Full 'Bloom'

by Brett Parker

Rian Johnson is a filmmaker who’s been making fun and fascinating films with the device of merging unlikely genres together. His first feature, Brick, was a mix between film noir mystery and the teen angst picture. Now he’s made The Brothers Bloom which is a gorgeous and energetic meeting between a con artist caper and a romantic comedy. While these cinematic cocktails seemingly appear to be clever stunts, Johnson wisely brings emotional flourishes to his material, giving us reasons to actually care about these characters. The Brothers Bloom is a wonderful example of this, making for a con game that is funny, romantic, and surprisingly poignant.

The film centers on a pair of “gentlemen thieves” named Stephen (Mark Ruffalo) and Bloom (Adrien Brody). The duo started life as orphaned brothers who bounced around from foster family to foster family. To pass the time, they decided to conduct confidence schemes to swindle the simpletons around them and rake in the benefits. Over time, a routine formed where Stephen would script out elaborate psychological and theatrical con games using Bloom as his main point man. With the assistance of the lethal and muted Bang Bang (Rinko Kikuchi), the boys build an underground reputation as the best con men in the world. But Bloom grows weary of such a fabricated lifestyle and dreams of one day living a real life with a real woman to love.

Bloom may have found what he’s looking for in Penelope (Rachel Weisz), a wealthy eccentric Stephen has marked for their latest scam. Penelope is a heiress who has lost her family and lives out her privileged existence in loneliness. Although she is quirky and callow, Bloom identifies with her isolated playfulness and he begins to fall deeply in love with her. This grows complicated as Stephen begins the play against her, which includes smuggling an antique book, a trip to Mexico, explosives, and a mysterious Belgian curator (Robbie Coltrane). Bloom wants so desperately to run off with Penelope towards a normal life, but in a con game where nothing is what it seems and twists reveal themselves on top of twists, normalcy feels like the last thing that can be obtained.

As far as con movies go, this plot has the usual grandeur of twist, turns, and slight-of-hand tactics that keep revealing depths upon depths of hidden agendas. Plots like these can be exhausting, but The Brothers Bloom pumps its structure with such style and emotion that we have a great time with these swindles. The film is certainly gorgeous to look at, whisking us away to exotic locales and basking the cast in elegant fashions this side of To Catch A Thief. Plus the twists are so effective because most of the time they are dictated by the emotional needs of the characters. The motivations behind most of the cons have little to do with financial gain but show the characters trying to make someone they care about truly happy. There’s a hilarious scene where the brothers botch a fake death act in order to spare Penelope from future emotional pain (the payoff is priceless) and Stephen’s final con is deeply touching and tragic in what it implies about his relationship with Bloom.

This gamesmanship is elevated by the fact that there’s a surprisingly touching romance baking beneath the deceptive plotting. Bloom and Penelope grow a deep affection for each other, for they both understand each other’s loneliness and unconventional skills as they help liberate each other towards true happiness. Brody and Weisz really anchor the film with their emotions, for their yearnings and emotional bruises can be felt throughout the film. I’m reminded that the best con movies show humanity sneaking in through the slickness. The Sting, for all its flash and charms, had its best moment when a lonely Robert Redford revealed his late night yearning for a waitress he liked. Ocean’s Eleven, if you peel away its style and coolness, is essentially the story of a romantic on a quest to win back his ex-wife. If your head can’t keep up with a cinematic con game, it’s important that your heart still has something to identify with.

Cinematic con capers are so much fun to watch because most of these plots can be seen as clever metaphors for the very nature of filmmaking and acting itself. Con games, when you think about it, require the same tools and formalities as movies themselves: costumes, set pieces, scripts, pyrotechnics, props, and most importantly, good performances. The Brothers Bloom certainly exemplifies this: Stephen resembles an enthusiastic writer-director-actor who wants to create a compelling story that hooks people on an emotional level while raking in millions for his efforts. He recruits a special effects technician (Bang Bang) and his favorite leading star (Bloom) to assist him and even throws an elaborate after-party for all the people that helped in his scheme. Bloom has an interesting fit into this angle: he’s the in-demand actor who’s bored with his profession and seeks a real life away from the spotlight. He wants to settle down and have a normal relationship, but so demanding is his career that normal romances are hard to conduct.

The Brothers Bloom is further proof that Rian Johnson is one his way to becoming one of the most fun and exhilarating filmmakers of our time. He’s like Wes Anderson in the way he creates off-beat and quirky landscapes filled with peculiar characters, fashions, and music. Like Brick, this film plays off of classical Hollywood themes in a highly-creative cinematic universe that exists in its own time. With two films so far, he’s proving to be quite a hand at smart dialogue, backhanded humor, literary references, and slick moods. I can’t wait to see the cinematic territory this man takes us to in the future.

It’s rare nowadays to find a film that possesses both a grand style and a grand heart, making The Brothers Bloom a rare triumph to cherish. It’s not everyday a film seduces you with gloss then tugs you at the heartstrings. While some of the plot complications can get dizzying and wacky, it’s the film’s damaged heart that keeps it on course to being one of the best films of the year.

BY THE WAY: There seems to be some confusion as to why the main characters are referred to as the Brothers Bloom when one of them has the first name of Bloom itself. The movie never really sheds light on this. My theory is that since the brothers are orphans and presumably never had a last name of their own, the child Bloom probably thought it’d be amusing to call himself Bloom Bloom. Stephen, ever the loyal brother, followed suit. That’s the best I can come up with. Anyone have anything better?

A Fun Time Getting 'Lost'

by Brett Parker

Land of the Lost is a big-screen update of a 1970s Saturday morning TV show now noted for its cheesy special effects. What is so peculiar about this update is how in a time of state-of-the-art CGI breakthroughs, the film’s special effects attempts to recapture the innocent cheesiness of the original show. By doing this, the film becomes an unexpected spoof of effects-ridden event films in which actors blue screen their way through adventure fantasies. This film is out to celebrate the ridiculousness of those kinds of blockbusters, and who better to celebrate ridiculousness than Will Ferrell?

Ferrell stars as Rick Marshall, a bumbling scientist who tries to make a name for himself by proving that he can find time portals to other dimensions. Marshall sabotages his whole plan, however, after conducting a disastrous interview on The Today Show with Matt Lauer. Lauer’s no-nonsense questioning highlights the lunacy in Marshall’s methods and he is made to look like a complete fool. The interview ends with Lauer blasting Marshall with a fire extinguisher. This interview becomes the most notoriously hilarious web clip on the internet, tarnishing Marshall’s reputation and making it impossible for him to get funding for his experiments.

One day, Marshall receives unexpected support from a beautiful scientist named Holly (Anna Friel) who convinces him to test out a portal device in a nearby tourist cave. With the assistance of an obnoxious tour guide named Will (Danny McBride), the scientists take a ride down the cave stream and the device transports all three of them to a strange and decidedly goofy alternate dimension. What a strange place this is. It resembles a prehistoric landscape, with missing links and dinosaurs, yet missing objects and buildings from the modern world find their way to this place. Dinosaurs attack an ice cream truck. A motel with a swimming pool is found in the middle of a desert. A race of lizard-men named Sleestaks look to wreak havoc and some of them even take time to fornicate with each other. The trio must battle all of these challenges as they stumble about trying to find their way home.

Whenever we watch an effects-heavy popcorn film, we apply suspension of disbelief to distract from the basic absurdities than can be sensed in watching special effect sequences. Moviegoers are smart and can sense when they are looking at screen animation and blue screen work in front of them, but if the actors are convincing and the effects are efficient, they will go with the flow and seek cinematic enjoyment. Land of the Lost purposely exploits these peculiar absurdities and uses them to great comic effect. Instead of sleek and convincing effects, the filmmakers have allowed a degree of fakeness to sneak into the imagery and bring an intended goofiness to the film’s look. The Sleestaks bodies have the obvious look of rubber suits while the CGI look of the dinosaurs is highly cartoonish. This comedy allows us to see how hilariously awful it would be if movies like Jurassic Park and Lord of the Rings fell into amateurish and incompetent hands.

That’s not to say Land of the Lost is an amateurish and incompetent film. Director Brad Silberling (Casper, A Serious of Unfortunate Events) has grown a talent for creating fantasy landscapes of compelling whimsy and he doesn’t come up short on that quality this time around. Sure, this movie may revel in juvenile silliness, but it’s good-looking and fun juvenile silliness. I found myself really loving the loud randomness of the film’s production design, which throws everything at us from old Cadillacs to dinosaur nests. Like the Land of Oz or Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, this is truly a cinematic landscape of childlike imagination you won’t soon forget.

Now I use the word childlike to describe the film’s look while the content, mind you, is a completely different story. I once wrote that Will Ferrell is pushing “deeper into a comic abyss, one that could cause his movies to snap from reality and descend fully into madness.” In that sense, Land of the Lost pretty much needs a straight jacket. While Ferrell constantly gets away with raunchy buffoonery in simple comedies, I think it’s hilarious that he tries to pull such insane shenanigans in a big-budget effects film based on a children’s television show. While the film’s advertising makes this look like a kid-friendly vehicle, be warned that this is the complete opposite. Get ready for Ferrell drowning himself in dinosaur urine, lizard people having sex, an ape-man who gropes both men and women, and, I kid you not, a scene where Ferrell and McBride get stoned with a missing link while chewing on a giant lobster.

Sure, Land of the Lost is stupid, cheesy, and could’ve been a powerhouse epic if made seriously, but I’m truly in awe of its comic audacity and truly in love with its creative look. If you watch episodes of the old TV show, you could spot the obviousness of the fake backgrounds and the stitching in the creature suits. I think it’s pretty hysterical that the film sets out to honor and retain that kind of spirit. Both moviegoers and critics have reacted negatively to this flick mainly due to Ferrell’s relentless brand of humor. To them I say, have you never seen a Will Ferrell comedy before? Did you seriously not see insanity like this coming? Do you think a deranged comedian like Ferrell could look at a dinosaur and not bring up its bathroom functions?

The 'Demons' of Mediocrity

by Brett Parker

Angels & Demons isn’t as entertaining or compelling as its predecessor, The Da Vinci Code, and since I didn’t find the earlier film to be too entertaining or compelling, that should hint at how underwhelmed I was by this sequel. To be sure, the new film holds more confidence and urgency than the last one, but I essentially have the same problems this time as I had the last time: the adventure feels too flat and unremarkable while the filmmakers and cast do very little to make this religious-shaker matter that much.

The film opens with a series of troubling matters for the Vatican in Rome. The Pope has just died and the conclave is called upon to elect a successor. Four of the preferitti (primary choices for replacement) have been kidnapped and threatened to be murdered in a short time frame. A dangerous, scientific anti-matter has been stolen and is threatened to be used in a plot to annihilate the Vatican right off the map. It appears that these nightmarish threats are being carried out by the Illuminati, a secret society that holds a deep hatred towards the Catholic Church for its persecution of science throughout history.

Desperate for help, the Vatican calls upon Harvard Symbolist Robert Langdon (Tom Hanks) to assist in solving this dangerous mystery. He teams up with a beautiful scientist (Vittoria Vetra) to solve a series of clues set up around Rome that reveals the inner-workings of the seemingly hostile Illuminati and their deadly plot. These clues are hidden within Vatican documents, ancient symbols, statues, maps, and even red-hot pokers. Langdon begins to suspect that the Illuminati has infiltrated the Vatican and grows suspicious of a Swiss Captain (Stellan Skarsgard) and an elder Cardinal (Armin Mueller-Stahl). With the assistance of a Camerlengo (Ewan McGregor), Langdon races against the clock to save the Vatican from devastating hostility.

Don’t get me wrong, this is interesting stuff. I find it clever how a suspenseful adventure story can mold with penetrating ideas about the foundations of the Catholic religion. So rich with ideas is this premise that the highest compliment I can pay the material is that you honestly don’t know where it will lead you. I just don’t feel that this is the best evocation of exciting ideas this plot can generate. I don’t find myself caring much for these adventures. I suspect the source of my problems is the fact that I don’t find Dan Brown, the author of the original Langdon novels, to be much of a writer. His writing is rather lazy and unsophisticated, which is curious considering the amount of research and knowledge that goes into creating such a clever premise. Lord knows he creates fascinating plots, but he lacks the grace and vividness of great writing. He seems more interested in crafting a quick potboiler than a meditative classic.

But this isn’t a book review, it’s a movie one. Brown’s shortcomings could easily have been finessed into visually-arresting filmmaking, but director Ron Howard also pounds things out in a limp manner. Both of his Langdon films have been visually unremarkable despite the fact that there are considerable visual delights to behold. The camera takes its atmosphere for granted; we never feel the grand awe of the holy, exotic settings nor do we feel the menace of the mysterious and sinister clues. It’s too straight-forward and by-the-numbers. Howard lacks his usual skills for visual creativity (Apollo 13, A Beautiful Mind) and heightened dramatic discipline (Cinderella Man, Frost/Nixon).

There’s also little excitement to be found in the film’s leading man. Tom Hanks can be an actor of great nerve and color, yet for the second film in a row, he appears to be phoning-in his Langdon performance. He plays Langdon as a stone-faced drone who recites ancient facts without any feeling in his heart. Remember the zest and glee that was in Harrison Ford’s eyes and smile when his Indiana Jones took on a new adventure? If only Hanks had taken a cue from that. He brings a scarce amount of humor and color to the table. He has little fun with the role and we pretty much have none. The rest of the cast seems to have taken a cue from Hanks’ blandness. Here we see a cast of seasoned pros who’ve been fiery and fascinating in other films reduced to poker-faced talking heads this time out.

Throughout this snooze-fest, the film does hold some thrilling moments. The Illuminati are a rather compelling bunch and their elaborate plan to reveal themselves is as clever as it is wicked. I liked a moment where Langdon tries to rescue a bound-up man from a fountain trap. Plus the film’s climax has a sensational special effects shot that would be at home in a supernatural disaster flick. Other than that, this movie is sinfully sanitized. The Da Vinci Code had most of the same problems, but that film was saved by the utter fascination of its truth-about-Jesus conspiracy plot. By comparison, radicals trying to blow up the Vatican doesn’t entertain as much. Brown’s novels have millions of devoted fans who will find a bottom-line competence within the film that will probably satisfy them. The rest of us will probably be falling asleep. Its movies like this that demonstrate why we should cherish the energetic silliness of the Indiana Jones movies.

A 'Trek' Worth Taking

by Brett Parker

The new Star Trek is possibly the best-looking, best-acted, most compelling, and coolest film in the entire series. It is essentially like watching an episode from the very original 60’s series (the best of the TV incarnations) done to visual perfection. If you want a slam-bam sci-fi action ride, you’ll certainly get your money’s worth. Yet if you’re looking for an emotional experience on par with the original Star Wars, you’ll probably feel shortchanged like I did. The film flies at such warp speed through its plot that it never slows down to develop the peculiar quirks and relationships of the Starship Enterprise Crew. Considering how great the actors are here, and the fascinating depths they suggest, this is considerably disappointing.

The film follows the original crew of the Starship Enterprise from their youthful years at the Starfleet Academy to their maiden voyage in space exploration. We meet the young Jim Kirk (Chris Pine), a cocky hothead who decides to follow in his deceased father’s footsteps by joining the Starfleet. We also meet the young Spock (Zachary Quinto), a Vulcan scientist who struggles with the human emotions inherent in him from his Earthling mother (Winona Ryder). These two mythic figures meet and clash heads at the Academy, for Kirk is off-put by Spock’s logical self-righteousness while Spock dislikes his compulsive arrogance. When the Enterprise is called into action to investigate an intergalactic stress call, Spock uses his influence to ban Kirk from setting foot on the ship. With the help of some sneaky tricks pulled by his neurotic buddy Bones McCoy (Karl Urban), Kirk is able to sneak onto the ship and join in the action.

As the Enterprise crew takes off on their first mission, they encounter Nero (Eric Bana), a pirate-like Romulan who is seeking revenge for the destruction of his home planet. Nero commands a grand and menacing ship that can dig holes into a planet’s core and implode it with a black hole. The crew of the Enterprise summon all of their talents to battle Nero, which includes the swordsmanship of Sulu (John Cho), the resourceful instincts of Chekov (Anton Yelchin), and the technical genius of Scotty (Simon Pegg). Things grow tense and interesting as Kirk and Spock clash over how to battle Nero while an elder version of Spock (Leonard Nimoy) travels back in time to warn Kirk of an altered future.

What is first and foremost impressive about Star Trek, even more so than the special effects, is how wonderfully the cast embodies their mythic roles. Almost every member in the cast stated in pre-release interviews that they wished to honor the original essence of their characters all while adding their own unique touches. They’ve accomplished that mission with excellence. Everything we’ve come to love about Bones, Scotty, and Sulu can be found here wrapped in fresh, likeable performances that make us care greatly about this crew and their adventures. I liked how these supporting characters aren’t merely throwaways decorated around Kirk and Spock but represent a team learning to respect and look out for each other. Almost everyone on the Enterprise gets to do something greatly heroic and we delight in seeing these young space warriors finding their identities.

Eddie Murphy once remarked in Boomerang that Captain Kirk is “the coolest white man ever.” With Chris Pine’s performance here, I can truly believe that. With his cocksure swagger and volcanic intensity, Pine reinvents the legendary space hero on his own terms, making for a character that is cool and charismatic beyond belief. A scene where he flips out on the deck of the Enterprise is so post-modern Shatner that it excites the hell out of us. A true movie star is born here. Also impressive is Zachary Quinto in a thoughtful and unexpected revision of the Spock character. He makes Spock seem more conflicted and emotional than we’ve ever seen him before, making this familiar character unexpectedly unpredictable. Just wait until you see him lose his Vulcan mind on a taunting Kirk. It’s a testament to Quinto that he can stare down Leonard Nimoy playing the same character and still hold his own effectively.

Director J.J. Abrams has constructed Star Trek with the same method he applied to Mission: Impossible 3: take a familiar franchise and pump it up with vibrant action scenes of the highest technical caliber and unexpected character flourishes. The action scenes are indeed awesome, including a free-fall attack on a Romulan space drill and a phaser shoot-out on an enemy spaceship, made especially effective by a post-Bourne shaky-cam style. My only qualm with the film is that the character drama should’ve been given a lot more room to breathe. Abrams stated in interviews that he was never much of a Star Trek fan and wanted to model the new version in a more Star Wars-like vain. Yet his film lacks the patience and character attention George Lucas’ epic demonstrated so well. This is certainly no fault of the cast; so resourceful are their performances that we can feel their inner-depths trying to burst out. If only they had a director who wasn’t afraid to focus intensively on them. Abrams made his name in the television world (with Alias and Lost) and he still has that television creator’s drive to pound out emotions and adventure in a zippy and tight package. He needs to trust the film medium more and not be afraid to develop things more deeply.

Take, for example, the relationship between Kirk and Spock. They start off as bitter rivals, yet we know by film’s end that they will start to become friends. What the film lacks is the dialogue and transition scenes necessary to establish the weight of this shifting relationship. It would’ve been exciting to have Kirk and Spock hold more conversations highlighting their tensions and things they may have in common. Pine and Quinto have effective chemistry, yet their shaky partnership is never challenging or touching in a substantial way. In a small moment where Kirk lets his guard down and surprises Spock with a brotherly pat on the back, we can feel the lost potential between this duo. The villainous Nero also suffers as a result of the film’s pacing. Instead of fleshing out his boiling anguish and rage, the film reduces him to the level of a comic book villain. Eric Bana is as focused and sinister as he can be, yet this underwritten role diminishes Nero’s chances of becoming a tragic new age Darth Vader. And call me crazy, but don’t you think some great relationship humor could’ve emerged from Kirk’s sexual rendezvous with the ultra-sexy Orion, Gaila (Rachel Nichols)?

The film also suppresses a great emotional impact with a time travel subplot. The elder Spock finds himself warped back in time and having to dictate the destiny and future of the main characters to a marooned Kirk. I think this subplot could’ve really elevated the material from skilled pop to surprising human drama. If an older version of your best friend traveled back in time to tell you that you’d one day be a great man who will have great adventures, what big emotions would that evoke in you? The filmmakers could’ve used this idea to give the characters a grand sense of destiny and the mythic figures they will one day become. This story holds the potential to be a meditation on the anxiety and wonderment young people face as they ponder their futures and struggle to do great things with their lives. But our hearts begin to sink as we realize that the time travel plot is simply a neat gimmick for the screenwriters to mess around with the Star Trek mythology to suit their own needs. Indeed, Nimoy’s presence, while delightful and fascinating, feels like a conservative Trekkie is making sure these hot new hipsters honor this traditional sci-fi universe and know how to properly handle themselves in a Star Trek movie. While Abrams promised his film would appeal to both Trekkies and non-Trekkies, we feel this film is titled more towards the former.

I saw this film at a late night screening with my older brother and he loved it. He simply stated, “You know a movie is awesome when you can’t stop thinking about it the next day.” Star Trek had the same effect on me and that is perhaps the highest compliment I could pay the new film. At a time when most sci-fi vehicles feel cheesy and mundane, this franchise reboot really does feel like something special. The production design seduces you with its bright lights and beautiful colors and it’s ultra-hard to resist the charms of the ensemble cast. While it’s not the most dramatic update we could’ve hoped for, it’s still an exciting pop ride that delivers the kind of blockbuster thrills summer movies are all about. As the film’s final scene shows the Enterprise crew preparing the ship for a new voyage, we realize that we’ll boldly go with these kids to where no man has gone before.

'Wolverine': You Wanted the Animal...You Got It!

by Brett Parker

Watching X-Men Origins: Wolverine really made me yearn for the subtle and effective things Bryan Singer did with this franchise. As director of the first two X-Men movies, Singer seemed more focused on character development and the plot’s social implications than the action. The action scenes, to be sure, were truly awesome, but Singer showed a graceful affection for the material that made us care about the mutants in unexpected ways. Singer’s dramatic angles made for exceptional pop art.

Wolverine has strayed far from Singer’s patient and complex vision for the franchise and seems more concerned with being edible action pop. The film doesn’t attempt the epic emotional adventure of the earlier films but seems content with being a slam-bang popcorn ride that action junkies will eat up. There’s an uneasy feeling that the filmmakers care more about pleasing fanboys than a general crowd of smart moviegoers. If it weren’t for some fun action scenes, super-cool mutants, and Hugh Jackman’s movie star presence, this would truly be cinematic junk food.

Jackman once again steps into the popular role of Logan/Wolverine, the Marvel Comics hero who is the bad-ass warrior of the X-Men crew. Wolverine is an indestructible mutant who can’t be killed, thanks to his regenerative healing powers and his steel skeleton. His most noticeable trait is the steel claws that spring out from his knuckles and can cut through damn near anything. Like a true wolf, Wolverine has a dangerous allure strengthened by his gruff manner and hostile temper. Despite his seemingly-sinister traits, Wolverine has a great deal of good in him, sticking to his own code of right and wrong and protecting both mutants and humans from harm’s way.

The film plunges into Wolverine’s past to answer every question you may have ever had about the mutant and how he came to be. He came into existence somewhere in Canada during the 1800s and has a mutant half-brother named Sabretooth (Liev Schreiber) who also has mean claws and animal-like abilities. Since both of these mutants can’t be killed, they decide to become American soldiers and end up fighting in pretty much every single American war (I wonder if they ran into Lt. Dan’s relatives along the way). Noticing their unique abilities, a Government agent named Stryker (Danny Huston) recruits them for a special mutant force in which their superpowers can be used for top secret missions. Eventually, Wolverine grows tired of killing for the government and decides to walk away and retire.

Years pass and Wolverine has taken up the life of a lumberjack in the great American wilderness while shacking up with a sweet-natured schoolteacher (Lynn Collins). Life is simple and happy for our hero, until the day Sabretooth tracks him down and murders his woman out of spite for Wolverine’s abandonment. This gets Logan fired up and thirsty for revenge. Stryker reappears and informs him that Sabretooth may be murdering other mutants and must be stopped. He offers Wolverine a chance to become the ultimate weapon by casing his skeleton in a rare form of metal and becoming unstoppable in his quest to stop Sabretooth. He agrees to go through with this and as he transforms into an indestructible warrior of rage, the plot only gets more complicated from there.

Wolverine is certainly attentive to the elaborate events that have become popular lore within the X-Men comics, yet the film has a hard time ridding the absurdist quality that rides on most comic book concepts. Most comic tales have an absurdity about them, yet great comic book films know how to scan their material for deeper human depths that make these stories feel like they truly matter. Iron Man, for example, wasn’t just an eye-popping action ride centered on a high-tech robot, but also a surprisingly funny and dramatic story of an irresponsible war profiteer who begins to discover a conscience, along with a bruised heart. Wolverine never really ascends to significant heights but seems stalled at the level of lightweight filler. This is curious considering that the director is Gavin Hood, the helmer of brooding and complex dramas such as Tsotsi and Rendition. The evidence on screen makes one wonder how much control Hood actually had over this commercial entertainment. Did the studio and the producers curb him from fully sinking his visionary hooks into this franchise or is this fluff really what Hood wanted to serve up for us? While most talented directors want comic book movies to transcend their pop cheesiness, it’s discomforting to think that a director like Hood wants to revel in it.

It’s disappointing to find Wolverine on a lightweight level, but on that level it works as disposable action fun. Even though the action sequences are heavy in CGI, there’s still some fun thrills to be had. I enjoyed a scene where Wolverine leaps from a motorcycle to slice up a helicopter in flight. There’s a nice early encounter with Cyclops (Tim Pocock) that shows why you should never mess with his sunglasses. Plus most of the action scenes are served by the fact that they contain some of the coolest mutants to ever grace the X-Men universe. Ryan Reynolds uses his trademark wit to make Deadpool a compelling character and it’s wonderful to finally see the awesome Gambit (Taylor Kitsch) find his way to the big screen. With his thick Cajun accent and his deadly manipulation of Poker cards, it’s not hard to see why this roguish charmer is a fan favorite. Kitsch does considerable justice to the character; the only disappointment fans should find with him is that he doesn’t get the amount of screen time he truly deserves.

It’s Hugh Jackman’s portrayal of Wolverine that’s the best thing in this film. Like Christopher Reeve as Superman, Jackman couldn’t embody his superhero’s image more perfectly. I’ve always been impressed by the fact that such a high-spirited Australian gentleman can play this disgruntled Wolf Man so wonderfully. I’ve always thought Jackman would be great as a new age Clint Eastwood; he’s got the squint, the height, and the gruffness down cold. His Wolverine performance this time around only strengthens that conviction. I also found surprising joy in his tough-guy dialogue, which seems to have been written by John Rambo (My favorite line: “You wanted the Animal…you got it!”)

Even though there are countless superheroes more interesting than Wolverine, he rivals Spider-Man as the most popular and legendary character in the Marvel universe. Through the character we can see the typical outsider archetype, that popular Americana kind in which an outlaw figure displays a roguish attitude yet sticks to a strict hero’s code on their own terms. Because we can all feel anger and repression at times, perhaps we find Wolverine most appealing in his ability to turn such rage into an effective way of overcoming his obstacles. By witnessing his releases of rage used for good, perhaps we too find a release for our own anger. We like heroes who know how to take matters into their own hands, even ones who do it with a vengeance.

So does Wolverine do an effective job of illuminating the character’s appeal? For the most part. Is this the best movie that could’ve been made about his origin? Not really. Most importantly, is it worth your money? Let me put it this way, there’s two types of people: those who were furious over X-Men: The Last Stand and those who weren’t. If you find yourself in the latter, you’ll probably enjoy Wolverine.

'The Soloist' Plays Some Creative Notes

by Brett Parker

The Soloist is a film that lingers beautifully on small details but seems reluctant to dive head-first into the bigger picture at hand. In telling the story of a mentally disturbed man and the reporter who tries to help him, director Joe Wright pays a great attention to the details of his characters’ environment but not enough to the characters themselves. The film is more taxing with its subject matter than we’re used to in dramas like this, but perhaps a small statement is being made about how mental illness should be portrayed on screen.

As the film opens, we meet Steve Lopez (Robert Downey, JR.), a reporter for the L.A. Times, at a miserable time in his life. He’s suffered a painful bicycle accident, his marriage is falling apart, and his journalistic juices appear to be running out. One day, Lopez finds writing inspiration through Nathaniel Ayers (Jamie Foxx), a homeless man in downtown L.A. Nathaniel appears to be a mentally disturbed man who constantly plays a violin with two strings. After various conversations with Nathaniel and some investigative reporting, Lopez discovers that Nathaniel was once a gifted musician at Julliard who dropped out for mysterious reasons and now lives out his existence as a homeless performer. Lopez prints his article and it strikes a chord in the heartstrings of its readers, becoming a popular column.

Lopez decides to do what he can to help his troubled new muse, but that turns out to be a very difficult and draining experience. Nathaniel shows serious signs of schizophrenia yet refuses conventional help and treatment. He feels more at home in the shabby homeless shelters that haunt L.A. instead of the generous comforts Lopez tries to dish out. Nathaniel’s condition makes him a rollercoaster of unpredictable emotions, making it increasingly difficult for Lopez to make a serious connection with him. Lopez slowly begins to wonder if Nathaniel is actually beyond saving.

The Soloist is a film that veers off into small tangents of unforgettable sublimity. Director Joe Wright does the same thing here he did with Atonement: he takes a seemingly familiar concept and pumps it with a vivid atmosphere and wonderful visual details. There’s a scene where Nathaniel takes in a Beethoven recital that paints its musical notes in beautiful bright colors and is visually brilliant. Wright also gives great attention to the festering homeless environments of greater Los Angeles. As the characters and camera plunge right into the middle of this homeless world, we see the real faces and problems of this environment firsthand. Wright spends a lot of time establishing the homeless sections of the film and why our standard attempts to combat the problem fail. Wright develops this so strongly that it almost becomes what the film is truly about (the ending crawl informs us that over 90,000 homeless people inhabit L.A. today).

The film is at its most brilliant and disturbing in its depiction of mental illness. Flashbacks show Nathaniel in his youth and at Julliard developing the paranoia and voices that will cripple him in his adult life. Wright puts us right inside Nathaniel’s mind, allowing us to hear these negative voices and how they cloud him from functioning in the real world. It’s a truly terrifying sight to behold. This horror is only elevated by the convincing performance from Foxx; the look of despair in his eyes is truly haunting. This film one-ups A Beautiful Mind in capturing the disturbing heartbreak of a schizophrenic illness.

These smaller details are so wonderfully constructed that we wonder why the film’s central relationship doesn’t have a similar impact. We sense a strong connection between these unlikely counterparts, but we don’t feel the full power of it. The structure of this screen relationship is obviously modeled after Rain Man, yet it lacks the close-knit intimacy of that film. The film is so eager to wander off into its peculiar visual scenes that the momentum needed to build the main friendship suffers considerably. Perhaps the performances have something to do with this; so enigmatic is Foxx and so ambiguous is Downey that maybe this relationship isn’t meant to be emotionally involving as it seems. Downey’s portrayal of Lopez is so resourceful that his actions toward Nathaniel seem both heartfelt and impersonal at the same time.

Perhaps Wright is using The Soloist to show how mental illness is too complex to fit so easily into a heartfelt drama. Throughout cinema, the portrayal of it has developed into a curious form of screen sentiment, sacrificing painful accuracy for comfortable dramatic requirements. It says something that Rain Man produced a formula that has been used time and time again. Wright shows no compromise in producing the horrors and heartbreak of schizophrenia and refuses to smooth it over to fit into a typical Hollywood tale. His style of filmmaking is certainly rebellious of typical structure; it appears to have an off-the-cuff artistic eye that is more interested in real life details than plot demands. Atonement centered on a character who sought a redemption that never fully arrived and we can sense Wright expressing this same lost redemption through Lopez’s efforts. The film shows more of his frustrations with Nathaniel than his joy. There’s a gut-wrenching scene towards the end where he realizes he may have made zero progress in helping Nathaniel and his condition.

While the film isn’t a complete success, The Soloist still contains unforgettable passages and one of the most harrowing portrayals of mental illness the screen has ever seen. It further proves that Joe Wright is one of the most original directors working today and that Downey and Foxx are two of the most gifted actors we have. And while it’s not as emotionally involving as Rain Man, it truly makes you wonder if you could ever look at such a film the same ever again.

A Movie Worth 'Fighting' For

by Brett Parker

Fighting is not the movie I expected it to be. The commercials trump scenes of underground fist fights with the same fetishized allure in which The Fast and the Furious boasted street racing. At the very least, I expected a slightly better Never Back Down and at best, a fresh variation on the young-prizefighter-meets-corrupt-boxing tale. I was surprised to find that the film transcends both those ideas to become a detailed look at the world of street hustling with an affectionate eye for the people that inhabit it.

The film stars Channing Tatum as Sean MacArthur, a young Southern man struggling to make money on the streets of New York. He spends his days selling shabby merchandise on busy sidewalks, items ranging from books to umbrellas. One day, a group of street punks try stealing his goods and Sean erupts into a violent rage, beating the punks and trying to reclaim his stuff. This display of territorial fighting catches the eye of Harvey (Terrance Howard) a street hustler who makes Sean a peculiar offer: he’ll put him up in a bare-knuckle fight where the winner takes home $5,000.

Desperate for money, Sean decides to follow Harvey into an underground world of street fighting. Random venues are selected throughout the bureaus in which crowds gather to watch two intimidating opponents beat each other into bloody pulps for a cash prize. Sean finds success in this dangerous new world and Harvey helps him move up the ranks towards tougher opponents and bigger cash prizes. Things grow hazardous as Harvey gets threatened by the shady syndicate running the fight circuit and Sean must eventually face an old rival from his past (Brian J. White) in a high-stakes fight.

I don’t think the title Fighting necessarily refers to the street fighting that goes down in this film but the fighting everyday people do to survive in the city when they’re down on their luck. Director Dito Montiel actually cares about his characters and spends a great deal of time developing their feelings and struggles. Just about every character in the foreground is struggling with all their resources to keep their head above water in the big city and we can sympathize with just about everyone we see. Even the relationship between Sean and Harvey is more heartfelt than we’re used to. We’re used to seeing fighter-manager relationships in films being cynical and deceptive, but here these two realize they have a lot in common and actually grow to care about each other. There’s moments where we catch them exchanging looks of admiration and worry for each other. Notice the way Harvey’s eyes swell up when he thinks Sean is about to lose a very big fight.

Montiel’s last film was A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints, which also starred Tatum in a story that loved its characters and was very attentive to New York City life. Here he has made a film with the same traits yet holds more narrative discipline and is a lot more entertaining. We realize his talents more clearly this time around and he could in fact become a great director of New York tales. He sees this environment with an uncompromising honesty that makes even contrived developments seem true to life. Even if the fighting world presented here seems a little far-fetched, Montiel basks it in such a convincing city atmosphere that we can believe such a circuit exists. This conviction is important, for it brings an aura of suspense every time Sean walks into a new fighting venue, for each place feels more dangerous than the last and Sean isn’t exactly the invincible warrior you’d expect him to be.

It certainly helps matters that Fighting is stacked with enormously likeable actors who make these characters more appealing then we expect them to be. Channing Tatum has the look of a tough guy yet holds a strong economy of charm and vulnerability that spares him from being a standard action figure. He’s going to be an awesome star. We always expect the wonderful Terrance Howard to be smooth and compelling, but he adds eccentric touches to his speech and shaky mannerisms to his body that helps make Harvey just as concerned with his status as he is a cool customer. And Zulay Henao is a real find as the club waitress who begins a nice courtship with Sean. Their romantic scenes together feel so genuine and patient that they can almost cast out and have their own wonderful romantic movie.

I was really surprised by this one. It’s an involving entertainment I really hope to see again sometime soon. While it may not elevate its genre origins to groundbreaking significance, it still delivers a whole lot more than it initially promised. There’s a good deal here for smart moviegoers as opposed to just the tough guy crowd. And I loved the soulful R&B soundtrack, which displays the likes of Marvin Gaye and Robin Thicke. Forgive my corniness, but Fighting wins by a knockout!

'Purple Rain': 25 Years Later

by Brett Parker

2009 marks the 25th Anniversary of Purple Rain, the film that transformed Prince from an offbeat musical artist into a pop legend. For the most part, I’ve regarded the film as a spunky piece of 80s nostalgia. As I look around now, however, it seems like the 80s is making a curious comeback in our culture. Kids are running around with loud shades, flamboyant styles, and rocker sensibilities, all while listening to tech-heavy heartfelt pop. In this sense, perhaps Purple Rain does in fact have a timeless feel. You could release Purple Rain as is nowadays and it would probably seem just as hip and popular as it was in the 80s.

Purple Rain is one of those nostalgia trips people of my generation are always curious to check out. Certainly we’ve all seen the film’s music videos on VH1’s throwback hours. I’ve always been a huge fan of Prince and certainly treasure this odd little film. Whenever my friends ask me if the film is worth seeing, I always tell them the same thing: if you’re a fan of Prince’s music, you’ll dig it. If not, you’ll probably be bored. But so awesome and inventive is Prince’s music here that it’s extremely hard not to get caught up in his musical greatness.

The film is a thinly-veiled account of the early years in Prince’s career. Nearly everyone in the film plays themselves and even use their own names. Prince is referred to as “The Kid” and is the lead singer of a pop group called The Revolution. They share a billing at the legendary First Avenue nightclub in Minneapolis, a venue with a reputation of launching musical acts towards superstardom. The Revolution, however, seem to have hit serious roadblocks on the path to fame. The band is beginning to strain due to The Kid’s inflating ego. He’s late to rehearsals, stand-offish towards them, and downright refuses to perform anyone else’s music but his own. His band mates Lisa (Lisa Coleman) and Wendy (Wendy Melvoin) constantly try to convince him to check out one of their own songs, the song that will eventually become “Purple Rain.”

The plot follows the Kid as he tries to balance his shaky musical career with emotionally taxing aspects of his life. His father (Clarence Williams III) is a failed musician who takes out his seething resentment on his own family. He was a talented musician, but he refused to share his genius with those around him, a trait the Kid fears he may have inherited. He also fears he may have his father’s jealousy towards women. He’s hopelessly in love with Apollonia (Apollonia Kotero) but despairs of the fact that she’s joined the musical act of his professional rival, Morris (Morris Day). While the Kid tries to make sense of his own life, he pours his wounded emotions into his offbeat music which has an original sound but may be a little too unconventional for the commercial crowd.

On paper, certain aspects of the plot should probably come across as cheesy, but director Albert Magnoli has a quiet way of bringing the film’s feelings to the forefront without ever having to explain them directly to us. The screenplay, co-written with Magnoli by William Blinn, is more observant of quiet behavior than it is of dialogue. Most of the Kid’s interactions with people are done with penetrating stares than obvious dialogue, helping to flesh out the enigma of Prince’s behavior. The dialogue, when it does pour out, can be unique and puzzling, the perfect antidote to what could be a conventional plot. Notice how the Kid courts Apollonia when he first meets her; almost nothing he says is normal or routine. You can accuse this material of being strange, but you can’t accuse it of being mundane.

What’s surprising about Purple Rain is how it boasts a musical star in a movie based on his own life and isn’t afraid to point out his numerous flaws. The movie doesn’t attempt to glorify Prince but shows what is perplexing about him as a musician and as a human being. As he hits his girlfriend and alienates his band members, Prince and the producers don’t make the Kid the most likeable character but do everything in their power to show the raw emotions behind the struggle of being a musician. In a sly way, the film becomes a wonderful meditation on the struggles of an artist trying to pour his complex emotions into a commercial art form, a concept artists of all generations can strongly relate to.

These dramatic scenes hold such promise that we wish they were meatier than they turn out to be. So much of the film is devoted to Prince’s music that it comes dangerously close to becoming a concert film. That could be a problem in another film, but Prince’s music truly does achieve pop perfection. The bruised heart of the movie can be strongly felt in the concert scenes, in which the Kid bears his soul through inventive pop that is infectious with emotions. The music is effectively elevated by quick-cutting clips heavily influenced by the emergence of MTV and music videos in the early 80s. Armed with a glam rock fashions, a soul star swagger, and divine vocals, Prince draws us in with a ferocious energy and bleeding passion that becomes the real star of the show. The songs may have that 80s vibe about them, but its dreamlike sounds and deep feelings fit in perfectly with tastes of any era.

I always found it strange how certain characters are negative or indifferent towards the Kid’s music, which is nothing short of sublime. Each song plays like small masterpieces in comparison to the film’s other music, performed by Apollonia 6 and The Time (which is competent and energetic pop in its own right). Picture A Hard Day’s Night if every character told The Beatles their music was too unconventional to work. I’m always amused by the film’s innocent conviction that singing the perfect song is a great way to win over a woman. This could be a dangerous concept for another film, but with Prince’s music, we truly believe this could be possible. There’s the scene where Morris Day is trying to swoon Apollonia with a romantic dinner at First Avenue until the Kid unleashes an electrifying performance of “The Beautiful Ones” that moves Apollonia to romantic tears, ones we can nearly feel. It sounds corny, but when Prince points to her from the stage and howls “do you want him or do you want me?” we know he means business!

This all builds up the ideology behind the film’s final and breathtaking act. The Kid is told by First Avenue’s management that he only has one last chance to “kick ass “ or he’s kicked out of the club’s billing. He finds himself losing his father, his girlfriend, and his own handle on things. If he can write the perfect song, maybe he can get everything back. He finally decides to collaborate with Wendy and Lisa’s ideas, leading to the film’s best moment in which he privately begins to compose the pop masterpiece, “Purple Rain.” As he performs his set at the club, the Kid absolutely pours everything he has into this song and we feel like we’re listening to the pop ballad to end all pop ballads. The camera lingers on Prince as he sings in an almost unbroken shot, with periodic shots of the audience in a blown-away trance. In 9 out of 10 films, a situation like this could implode the whole movie, but “Purple Rain” is the real deal, a heartfelt power-punch of a ballad that even the skeptical Simon Cowell of American Idol calls one of his favorite songs. The club’s audience becomes emotionally leveled and ecstatic by the song, and so are we.
Purple Rain is probably one of those rare occasions where the movie soundtrack is more treasured than the movie itself. When Entertainment Weekly named the album as the #1 New Music Classic of the past 25 years, I wasn’t at all surprised. However, if one experiences the music through the film, they will feel a dramatic experience with it accompanied by styles and trends that are still felt today in our contemporary culture. Countless rock bands of today can be seen imitating the hipster-glam swagger of Prince’s image. Outkast has stated Prince’s influence on their work numerous times. We can even sense how Morris Day’s soulful swagger and pop showmanship have influenced R & B artists like Kanye West. And you can’t tell me Lady Gaga isn’t a student of Apollonia 6’s ideal of “sexy but not dirty.” It says something that at a recent Gym Class Heroes concert, the band tried their own rendition of “When Doves Cry.” They totally missed the melancholy aspect of the song, and it sounded more Morris Day than Prince, but at least the kids are acknowledging it!

Perhaps Purple Rain really is just hokey 80s nostalgia, cheesy musical drama, and an oddball Prince concert, but it holds more wisdom and energy than most musical stories of today. It’s a glamorous, energetic, rhythmic, and heartbreaking ride through a specific awakening in the history of pop music, one that would forever influence rock, soul, and dance. It’s also a vivid account of one of the most fascinating and mysterious figures in the world of rock music who will stand the test of time to become a legend. You can do a lot worse than a film tightly focused on such a character. So if the emo rockers and clueless popsters of today are getting you down, rent this flick and come have a look at what a real musical superstar looks like.