Julianne Moore Earns that Oscar in "Still Alice"

Julianne Moore totally inhabits this character.  

Full disclosure: Over the past half-decade or so, I have watched my grandmother descend further and further into dementia to the point that she is now a safety risk, incapable of being left alone. I'm not sure if that clouds my evaluation of a film like Still Alice, which tells the story of a linguistic professor's bout with Alzheimer's and the affect her mental deterioration has on her and her family. Did my investment come easier, my tears more readily because this film hit a little close to the bone? I can't really be sure, but at least now you know where I'm coming from.

Based on the novel by Lisa Genova, Still Alice is a harrowing depiction of the personal destruction that accompanies Alzheimer's. It's pretty straightforward and so it does have a Lifetime movie of the week vibe to it, but the movie is elevated by a brilliant central performance and a restrained script that’s chock-full of insight and authenticity.

Julianne Moore took home the Oscar for her work as the titular character, and it's a long overdue victory. Moore is one of the greatest actors of her generation, so I was behind her win before even seeing the movie, but, now that I have, I can say this is one of those rare cases where a past-due actor is deservedly honored for the performance in question as well as for overall career achievement.

I’m not sure I’d say this is Moore’s best performance, but it’s certainly up there. What’s so impressive about how Moore slowly peels layer upon layer away from Alice’s identity is just how little you notice the acting. The character’s decline is rapid, but the performance is seamless. This is a full on clinic in subtle submersion.

Although Alice’s husband (Alec Baldwin) and three children (Kate Bosworth, Kristen Stewart, and Hunter Parrish) factor in to the narrative, the film intentionally keeps them on the margins. Generally, this works fine. The supporting actors all do fine work, and the reality is that the film is trying to capture Alice’s experience (as opposed to Away From Her, a film focused more on how a dementia touches those closest to the afflicted).

Still, even given that defense, it does feel like a bit of a cheat at times, especially concerning the Bosworth character. Alice is dealing with a genetic form of the disease and a blood test reveals that the Bosworth character has the gene and will therefore go through this exact trauma in about 20 years, and yet, outside of one clipped phone conversation, this developing is never really addressed with any sort of substance. It’s a dangling narrative thread that is jarringly pushed aside.

That gripe aside, Still Alice is a worthwhile film with a powerhouse performance from one of our greatest working actors. At one point, Alice pines “I wish I had cancer. I wouldn’t feel so ashamed. People put on pink ribbons if you have cancer.” It’s a salient point, one that highlights that Still Alice is the rare film that makes us both think and feel, all while never giving in to mawkishness. Its strength is in its matter-of-fact depiction of the shattering realities that accompany this terrible disease and in the grace that can occasionally shine through during such a devastating eradication of self. B+

Disney Takes a Step Backward with the Nevertheless Adorable "Big Hero 6"

Big Hero 6 is about a kid coping with the death of his brother via

the help of a robot said brother invented.

In my review of Frozen, I mentioned how far Walt Disney Animation Studios has come over the last decade, steadily improving its output to the point that it arguably has become the premier animation house in Hollywood.

I still feel that way after having seen Big Hero 6, but on the heels of the studio's recent successes, Disney's adaptation of this obscure Marvel property is a bit of a let down. It's solid and occasionally inspired entertainment, but it's a lot more Meet the Robinsons or Bolt than Wreck-It Ralph or Frozen.

That's totally fine -- not every attempt needs to be a classic, which is something I've discussed at length in my coverage of Pixar's output over the years. I'd never argue Big Hero 6 is a bad film -- it's a cute, eye-popping heart-tugger that deftly addresses coping with tragedy and features an absolutely adorable break-out character (that would be Baymax, the inflatable health care robot voiced by 30 Rock's Scott Adsit).

But it's also pretty pedestrian in the way it plays like a vastly inferior version of the similar Guardians of the Galaxy (my review here). Both are obscure Marvel properties focused on a hero with a tragic past who leads a group a misfits in battling a vengeance-seeking villain. But whereas Guardians had a lot of flavor and personality, especially among it's deep supporting cast, Big Hero 6 is woefully undefined. The four teens who make up the back two-thirds of the superhero team are basically window dressing and the villain's descent into callous violence carries little weight and makes even less sense.

Thank goodness then for Baymax, who's as cute as Wall-E or Groot, but about 10 times more huggable and 100 times more articulate. His awkward physicality and matter-of-fact pronouncements are the undisputed highlight of the film, which is ultimately a solid, if unspectacular, offering from Disney. B

This is adorable.

McDonagh and Gleeson Reteam for the Bleak but Moving "Calvary"

Kelly Reilly and Brendan Gleeson have conversations in Calvary.

It’s easy to wonder how anyone still could believe in a caring and just God. There’s so much knowledge and science, not to mention all the disillusioning depravity and hypocrisy. And yet some continue to believe, not entirely unshaken in their faith but still doddering on.

Questions about the futility of faith are at the forefront of Calvary, writer-director John Michael McDonagh’s sophomore follow-up to The Guard. Here, he reteams with star Brendan Gleeson to tell a different sort of story – one that pulls no punches and evinces that patented McDonagh family wit (see also, brother Martin’s phenomenal In Bruges), but that pivots from dark comedy to deliver a poetic and sincere meditation on what it is to be a lonely believer amid a sea of hedonistic heretics.

Calvary is the type of movie that reminds me why I watch movies. It’s beautifully shot, thoughtfully written and naturally acted. It’s funny and profound, surprisingly idiosyncratic in its cadences and yet satisfyingly inevitable in its conclusions.

The film's opening words set the tone. "I first tasted semen when I was seven years old." The line is spoken by an unknown parishioner to Father James (Gleeson), a salt-of-the-earth type who maintains his composure enough to dryly retort, "It's certainly a startling opening line." What comes next is tougher to take in stride. The confessor explains he was raped as a boy by a now-dead priest, and that he has decided to kill a good priest – this particular good priest – as retribution, because, well, it would be more shocking than killing a bad one. But at least he's considerate – he offers Father James a week to get his life in order, claiming he'll meet him on the beach the following Sunday.

The rest of the film plays like a guess-the-would-be-killer for the audience, but not for Father James since he knows exactly who he was speaking with in the confessional. For him, the week is less about finding a way to salvage his life than it is about finding a way to salvage his faith. The cynical locals (played by the likes of Aiden Gillen, Chris O'Dowd and Dylan Moran) don't make that easy on him, as each one is a conceivable potential murderer. Neither do his own demons (alcoholism) or the appearance of the daughter (Kelly Reilly) he had before entering the priesthood.

Gleeson always brings his A-game, but this is the best I've ever seen him. His work as Father James is towering yet understated, the type of complex and nuanced performance that deserves to win an Oscar, but miraculously doesn't even get nominated. He's constantly jostling between strength and vulnerability, hope and despair and levity and seriousness, sometimes within the turn of a single phrase or a flicker of the eyes. And that doesn't even cover just how perfectly simpatico Gleeson is with the McDonagh language (for a more populous American analog, think Samuel L. Jackson speaking the words of Quentin Tarantino).

At one point, Father James suggests there's too much talk of sins, and not enough talk of virtues, calling particular attention to forgiveness. Anyone who knows diddly about Jesus's death should know what the title of the film is alluding to, and, given that, should also be able to predict where things are headed. Father James considers running away, but ultimately opts to answer for the sins of others like his God before him.

However, the final scene of the film powerfully hints at the notion that forgiveness doesn't require a sacrificial lamb, just the fortitude and willingness to tap into the virtue within. This is a bleak and bitter film, but there's enough in its ending to restore faith, maybe not in God, but definitely in humanity, which is more than enough given all the soul-crushing brutality in the world. A

"Foxcatcher" Doesn't Measure Up to Bennett Miller's Previous Output

Mark Ruffalo and Channing Tatum shine, but Foxcatcher is an airless effort.

With Foxcatcher, Bennett Miller (Capote, Moneyball) has crafted yet another pensively restrained, immaculately composed and expertly acted examination of unbridled obsession and determination and held it at arms length. However, this time out, the distanced and disciplined approach that worked so well in the director's earlier films make Foxcatcher feel kind of inert and airless.

Foxcatcher focuses on the relationship between Olympic wrestling brothers Mark (Channing Tatum) and Dave Schultz (Mark Ruffalo) and John Du Pont (Steve Carrell), the creepy millionaire who served as their benefactor. Both Mark and Dave are former Olympic champs, but Mark lives firmly in the shadow of his older brother, which makes him ideal prey for the resentful and self-important Du Pont, a man who knows a thing or two about living in the shadows of family (in his case, his mother).

There's not much point in saying any more about the film's plot. A tragedy involving these men attained headline-grabbing true crime infamy, but the particulars of that incident are opaque, poorly defined, and relegated to the film's final moments. Foxcatcher is much more concerned with ruminating on its long list of themes, including isolation and repression, class disparity and subjugation, unchecked entitlement and compromised integrity, and, if all that isn't enough, the fractured male psyche and distorted American values. There's so much going on here, and yet it feels like almost nothing happens.

The film is technically accomplished, and the actors all do nice work. Ruffalo, who has made a career of breathing life and dimensionality into thinly written parts, is especially affecting as the warm-hearted, at-ease-with-himself Dave, and Tatum continues to impress with the emotional brute routine. Both actors bring an ape-like physicality to their roles, while doing a good job of communicating an innate brotherly bond.

Meanwhile, Carrell is buried under prosthetics and definitely a world away from his typical roles. He's pretty solid throughout, and great in isolated moments, but his acting calls a lot of attention to itself and not in a good way. His approach stands in stark contrast to his more natural costars, and the fake nose threatens to overpower his performance. I'd say there's more good than bad in the portrayal, but there's definitely something off-key about it.

Foxcatcher is a major comedown for Miller, which maybe isn't fair given just how good Capote and Moneyball were, but the film isn't some major catastrophe. It's certainly worth catching -- Ruffalo's performance alone is worth the time, and there is a ton of other stuff to admire about the film besides. The thing just feels a little empty to me, and ultimately this is one of those films that I'm bummed I didn't like more. B-

Linklater Pulls Off Passion Project With Beautiful, Resonant "Boyhood"

Boyhood chronicles 12 years in the life of a family of four, including
a loving but absent dad and a quiet and relaxed son.

Boyhood deserves to win Best Picture and Best Director at this year's Oscar telecast.

I say that, having seen almost none of the nominated films. While I pride myself in my opinion on film, and I usually stay pretty well versed in the Oscar coverage and discussion, fatherhood has drastically altered my regular viewing and reading habits. I have only seen two (Boyhood and The Grand Budapest Hotel) of the eight Best Picture nominees, three of the 20 nominated acting performances, and, well, you get the idea.

All that being said, I still feel comfortable making such a lofty claim about Richard Linklater's examination of life in process. Although it's entirely possible that a film like Foxcatcher or Birdman could leapfrog Boyhood as my favorite film of 2014, the enormity of what has been achieved with Boyhood flat out needs to be recognized. The film, which chronicles 12 years in the life of Mason (Ellar Coltrane), his sister (Lorelei Linklater), and their parents (Ethan Hawke and Patricia Arquette at the top of their games) is not as novel as some might think (Michael Apted has been doing something similar with his Up series of documentaries for half a century), but it is still a monumental accomplishment.

Will Boyhood actually win? I'm doubtful. Birdman seems deserving and has a leg up on the top prize, and while director is, by most accounts, a tighter race, Linklater doesn't have the showy style of Alejandro González Iñárritu. I would celebrate a win for an artist like Iñárritu, but I think the time is right to give Linklater his due. The guy has spent a great deal of his career exploring aging, the maturation process and the passage of time -- charting growth and relationships over two decades with his Before trilogy (reviewed by yours truly here) -- but Boyhood is something extra. Conceived as a whole and shot and edited bit by bit over a twelve year period, it required unwavering discipline, incredible patience and, let's be honest, some real cajones.

It's just so crazy to consider that over the past dozen years, while Linklater was churning out a consistent stream of films, including several that are outright dynamite (School of Rock, Before Sunset, Before Midnight), he had this project just simmering on the backburner. There was so much here that could've gone wrong, but Boyhood is so damn perceptive and tonally consistent because of the clarity of Linklater's vision mixed with his patented ability to go with the flow and make small moments so damn engaging.

Even if there was some sort of rudimentary outline here, Linklater took a real risk staking such an ambitious project on an unknown actor that could've grown into just about any type of person. To a large extent, the development of Coltrane was driving the narrative here, and while he wound up fitting the mold of Linklater's prototypical sensitive artist type (a few tweaks and this could easily be a prequel about Jesse from the Before series), he easily could've grown into something else entirely. I suspect Linklater would've made any outcome work, because he's just so damn light on his toes, and I'm a firm believer in rewarding humanist filmmaking of this scope and caliber.

It's worth stating explicitly that the film is pretty damn good aside from all that background -- it's a subtly resonant, gently profound and authentically naturalistic coming of age story, aided enormously by some dynamite lived-in acting and its director's keen ear for honest interactions and dialogue. The film doesn't revel in the typical "big moments" of boyhood -- instead it focuses on the more mundane lead-ups and aftermaths, which works as a sly comment on how we spend far more time anticipating and reacting to the big experiences than we do inside of them.

Having said that, the film is still fascinatingly gripping, mostly because you get sucked into caring about what's happening and come away feeling like you know these people. There's just a tremendous satisfaction to watching these lives play out.

Late in the film, Hawke has a scene with Coltrane in which he touches on that notion, providing the perfect reason for why Boyhood is such a beautiful piece of art. He says,"What's the point? I mean, I sure as shit don't know. Neither does anybody else, okay? We're all just winging it, you know? The good news is you're feeling stuff. And you've got to hold onto that."

There's no doubt Linklater winged quite a bit during the making of this film, and that the end result makes the audience feel stuff. And that makes Boyhood a film worth holding on to. A

"A Walk Among the Tombstones" Proves More Than Your Typical Liam Neeson Actioner

Liam Neeson gets to do more than just snarl his way through this one.

Since the runaway success of the original Taken six years ago, Liam Neeson has appeared as a stoic tough guy in anywhere between eight and a dozen movies depending on how you view the likes of Clash of the Titans, The Lego Movie and A Million Ways to Die in the West.

Considering that, it would be easy to shrug off A Walk Among the Tombstones as another in a long line of stock actioners meant to capitalize on audience fondness for Bryan Mills and his extremely abductable family.

However, while Neeson is still playing an intimidating ass kicker, A Walk Among the Tombstones is very different from Taken, Non-Stop and all the other cookie cutter crap he's been churning out the last few years. As far as this action phase of his goes, this one fits most comfortably alongside The Grey, another film that took this hardass archetype and actually ventured into thoughtful reflection and interesting characterization.

Based on one of the books from Lawrence Block's popular detective series, A Walk Among the Tombstones isn't even much of an action movie -- it's a dark, slow-burn character piece. Box Office Mojo compares it to Prisoners, and while I don't think it's quite in the same league as that film, the comparison is apt. Another analog would be The Lookout, the only other film ace screenwriter Scott Frank (Minority Report, Out of Sight) had directed before this one.

Plotwise, the film sounds like a movie you've seen before. It follows Matthew Scudder (Neeson), a disgraced former police officer who works as a non-licensed detective when he's not attending AA meetings, as he investigates the murder of a drug kingpin's wife. Combined with his taking a street kid under his wing, the case ultimately provides Scudder a chance at redemption.

But a film like this isn't so much about plot as it is about mood and tone, and Frank and Neeson get all of that right (besides a voiceover during the conclusion that ham-fistedly ties in the 12 steps of AA). Neeson still gets to be the grizzled badass here, but there's a humanity to the guy that really plays. And in a film of this ilk, that can go a long way. B

It May Not Live Up to the Hype, But "The Interview" is Still Hilarious

The chemistry of James Franco and Seth Rogen carries The Interview.

With all the buildup from the Guardians of Peace brouhaha, The Interview was never going to live up to the hype. Even though it has some worthwhile points to make about the descent of journalism, it's mostly just a juvenile, bro-comedy -- the type of movie that shouldn't have to carry a torch for free speech.

Still, there's no denying The Interview is an enjoyable film. It's not quite as good as what Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg gave us with This is The End and Pineapple Express, but it's in the ballpark. It definitely has the same anarchic sense of humor, and, like those films, it goes over-the-top in some gut-busting ways.

Generally speaking, I'd say the film is decent enough during its first 20 minutes, gets really hilarious for about an hour, and then ends with a so-so action-infused blowout that's made significantly funnier by the fact that it plays out exactly as idiot talk show host Dave Skylark (James Franco) dreamed it would when he and his producer (Rogen) were first approached by a CIA operative (Lizzy Caplan) to assassinate Kim Jong-un (Randall Park).

There is a lot to enjoy here, as the film nicely employs what I guess you'd call smartly juvenile humor. One of the funniest running themes in the movie involves "honeypotting" or "honeydicking," a concept that critiques the methods a monster like Jong-un uses to keep control over his citizens (urban dictionary explains).

Acting wise, Diana Bang steals scenes as North Korea's sexy communication director, while Caplan, despite being the straight woman in some of the funniest scenes, is pretty much wasted. Meanwhile, Park (best known for his humorous work on Veep) has an inspired take on Jong-un, playing him as a sheepishly chill dude who just happens to be a megalomaniac with daddy issues. Although this interpretation of the notorious dictator wouldn't be out of place on SNL, Park's Jong-un is a well-calibrated bad guy that's actually better developed than about eight out of ten action movie villains.

But, unsurprisingly, The Interview's success rests on the comedic chemistry between its likable leads. Rogen freaking out is never not funny, and, as with their previous collaborations, the writer-director generously gifts Franco all the funniest lines. Franco is a talented performer, but can, at times, come across as stiff or distracted (which is unsurprising given all the balls he has up in the air at any one time). However, when he's working with Rogen, the actor taps into a surreal, overly-committed wave length that's just a blast to behold.

While I'd say The Interview definitely wasn't worth all the fuss, it provides a decent amount of fun, while still working in a nice under-riding theme that, oddly enough, seems even more compellingly relevant given the unscrupulous way the media handled the reporting of the Sony hack. It's weird, silly and fun with a little something to say too -- sounds pretty good to me. B

Reitman Delivers a Misfire With "Men, Women & Children"

Roy from The Office shows up for this one scene. Don't even think
he speaks. Very weird.

After the increasing success of his first three films (Thank You For Smoking, Juno and Up in the Air), Jason Reitman has gotten himself on to a bit of a cold streak. Young Adult scored with critics but bombed with audiences and Oscar voters, and then Labor Day mustered little support of any kind. The writer-director has tumbled even further from grace with Men, Women & Children, the biggest critical and commercial flop of his career.

The film, which employs an interconnected ensemble in an attempt to explore the alienating forces of technology, found its way onto its share of 2014 worst of lists, but it's not that bad. There are some good characters here, and the film circles a topic worthy of continued exploration, even in the wake of Spike Jonze's brilliant Her. However, the film's positives are outweighed by an overbearing, self-important approach that really has very little to add to the conversation of how technology is changing modern life.

The film focuses on five family units in a small Texas community. Here's the rundown:

1. Chris (Travis Tope), a football player who has become so desensitized by internet porn that he can't get excited for real sex (this concept was handled with much more nuance and humor in Don Jon) and his unsatisfied parents (Adam Sandler and Rosemarie DeWitt doing the best they can) who seek extramarital affairs via the internet.
2. Cheerleader Hannah (Olivia Crocicchia), an aspiring starlet who posts inappropriate photos to a web site with the help of her misguided mom Joan (Judy Greer) in the hopes of jump starting an acting career. 
3. Tim (Ansel Elgort), a football star who quits the team after his mom abandons him and his father Kent (Dean Norris, so damn good) for life with a new man across the country. Tim spends most of his time playing an online role playing game and openly discusses the insignificance of life in the context of our massive universe. 
4. Brandy (Kaitlyn Dever), an emo sort whose overprotective mother Patricia (Jennifer Garner) obsessively monitors her every move via regular social media reviews, GPS tracking and a whole slew of other intrusions. 
5. Allison (Elena Kampouris), a cheerleader with an eating disorder who hooks up with the callous jock who teased her before she lost weight. 

Clearly, there's a lot going on, and that's before we talk about the story overlaps -- Tim and Brandy, Chris and Hannah, and Kent and Patricia are all paired off romantically. The only odd fit is Allison's story, which is bluntly drawn and entirely unconnected to the rest of the narrative. There's very little technological hook to this one (beyond a chat room of other users giving tips on how to avoid eating food), and it plays like a tacked on thread considering she's the only kid who doesn't have a prominently featured parent (J.K. Simmons is wasted as her father).

Overall, the film suffers as a message movie (all the technology connections are pretty much just window dressing) and works best as a community melodrama, but even then, it's extremely flawed (it's like a vastly less successful Little Children or The Ice Storm).

The problem is that the bulk of these characters are basically just representing different ideas, so they end up with almost no dimension. The exceptions to that rule are Tim, Brandy, Kent and Joan. There's a good movie here about a father and a son dealing with abandonment with the help of two romantic interests dealing with their own shit, but it's muted by all the other fluff filling up the bulk of the run time.

When Elgort, Dever, Greer, and Norris are onscreen, especially in combination, the film really shines. Otherwise, Men, Women & Children offers a bunch of junk-time for unengaged audience members to scroll through their phones. C

"Dawn of the Planet of the Apes" Improves Upon Very Good Predecessor

Caesar brandishes a gun in Dawn of the Planet of the Apes.

I posted a tentative list of my top 10 films of 2014 on New Year’s Eve knowing that as I continued to see more and more 2014 releases, it would drastically change.

We’re barely two weeks into 2015, and the list is already out of date, and it's not because I saw one of the many acclaimed films (Selma, Foxcatcher, Nightcrawler, Birdman, Boyhood, and The Imitation Game to name a few). Instead, the change comes courtesy of Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, a film I was highly anticipating but did not realize would be nearly this damn good.

Dawn deepens and expands upon the highly enjoyable and affecting Rise of the Planet of the Apes, taking the narrative further down the bleak path that’s all but necessary if these prequels are seriously meant to align with the iconic Charlton Heston film.

The film picks up roughly a decade after the first film, with most of humanity having been killed off by the simian flu (all the major ape characters from the previous film return, while all the major human characters are long dead). The surviving humans are seemingly immune to the virus, and have etched out an existence in a rundown San Francisco under the leadership of Dreyfus (Gary Oldman) and Malcom (Jason Clarke). In dire need of a power, these survivors aim to restore a nearby dam, but in so doing, they encroach on the developing ape community that Caesar founded in the Muir Woods at the end of the first film. In an effort to avoid war, Malcom and Caesar attempt to forge diplomatic relations, but pressures from untrusting extremists in each group make that very difficult.

That’s all I’ll say for the plot. As was the case with Rise, the humans comprise the weaker part of the story, but the script takes time to give almost every character of consequence, be they ape or human, some level of dimensionality. Like most science fiction, the Planet of the Apes series has always been bluntly allegoric, and that hasn’t changed here. The inevitability of war, the folly of racial hatred, and anti-gun sentiment are just a few of the ideas jostling around in this thing.

Thematics aside, this is one hell of an action film. The pace is pretty relentless, and the special effects and action set pieces are downright dynamite. A sequence in which the apes make an assault on the human fortress is one of the most jawdropping action scenes I've ever seen – even better than the great bridge battle that ended the last film. Not only does it look great, but it’s just so damn innovative in its choreography.

But, on top of all that, this is also a rock solid character piece. Combined with Rise, this is basically a clinic on how to do a prequel origin story. One need only look at how successful Caesar has been fleshed out here to realize just how awful a ball drop those Star Wars prequels were. Prior to this series, Caesar was probably one of the most iconic antagonist in film history – but now, courtesy of Serkis and some great work from the effects team, he’s also one of the most well-developed, empathetic and relatable heroes your likely to come across. And, Star Wars isn’t the only touchstone the film brings to mind – the narrative is extremely Shakespearean, and Julius Caesar is an obvious point of reference in the central relationship between the magnanimous Caesar and the vengeance-seeking Koba (Toby Kebbell).

Frankly, It's a shame this film didn't receive more end-of-year love. I know it’s a science fiction film, but so is Snowpiercer and that’s showing up on all sorts of top 10s. As far as the Oscars go, the film got a well-deserved special effects nomination today, but it would've been deserving in a few more places. I understand it's a reach to assume at this point that Serkis could've cracked the very crowded best actor field, but would this not be the perfect year to give the guy an honorary Oscar? He's given his best ever motion capture performance here, and the technology is being increasingly embraced in the industry, with big name actors like Vin Diesel now embracing the form as a way to move outside the box their actual screen persona puts them in.

 Regardless of the year-in-review recognition it's getting, I’ll bang the drum for Dawn of the Planet of the Apes. Although there's a great chance Dawn will ultimately fall out of my top ten, it's in there right now. This is a total must-see, and one of the best films of 2014. A-

Former SNL Players Deliver the Goods in "Skeleton Twins" and "Obvious Child"

Skeleton Twins utilizes the time-honed chemistry of its leads.

From Bill Murray to Will Forte, there’s a long tradition of SNL performers who have made a successful transition to dramatically-tinged films. The other night, I took in two of the latest movies to give former not-ready-for-prime-time players such a spotlight – Skeleton Twins and Obvious Child – and I came away very impressed with the results.

In Skeleton Twins, Kristen Wiig and Bill Hader star as Maggie and Milo, two mid-thirties twins who have been estranged for a decade. After Milo botches a suicide attempt, the siblings become reacquainted, with Maggie offering Milo the chance to move from California back to New York where he can stay with her in their hometown while he recovers.

To most onlookers, Milo would be the clear black sheep of the family. He’s a suicidal, failed actor – “another tragic gay cliché” as he says – while she seemingly has everything – steady job, nice house, and an affable and eager husband (Luke Wilson in his best performance outside a Wes Anderson film) with whom she’s trying to conceive a child.

But things aren’t really that rosy for Maggie, which is something that’s hinted at when we first meet her (she’s contemplating swallowing a handful of pills when she gets interrupted by a phone call about Milo’s attempted suicide), and that becomes increasingly clear as we learn more and more about her self-sabotaging behaviors.  Both Maggie and Milo are living lives filled with crippling isolation and regret, and they need to come back together if they have any chance of healing.

That all reads pretty heavy on its own, and it doesn’t even account for Maggie and Milo’s screwed up upbringing, which is highlighted by their father’s suicide, a sex scandal involving a pedophiliac teacher, and abandonment by a new age mother.

Although the laundry list of family issues may seem like one or two too many skeletons in the closet, the film handles it all well enough, and, mercifully, this isn’t one of those direly dark films comedic actors sometimes make to prove dramatic bonafides. While Wiig and Hader carry the dramatic material with aplomb, Skeleton Twins is also a very funny film, chiefly due to the time-honed chemistry between the two costars. There’s an intuitive connection there, and I’d be shocked if several of their scenes – particularly one set in a dentist office – weren’t at least partially improvised. 

In a lot of ways, the film plays like an adaptation of a book (I could easily imagine Skeleton Twins as one of those every-other-chapter-narrator novels that jostles back and forth between two points of view). This is a layered film with a lot of depth, but I won’t lie: things do fall off a bit as the film reaches its conclusion.  Although momentum builds tremendously toward a wrenching and raw blowout between the leads, everything is then quickly tied up in an unbelievable climax.

Still, there’s a something great about watching Wiig and Hader inhabit these characters together, and both deliver in ways they haven’t before. Wiig, for all her greatness, has never seemed this real on film, while Hader does revelatory work as the sardonic misanthrope who is simultaneously goofy, vulnerable and relatable. He’s long been a scene-stealer, but Skeleton Twins doesn’t just mark his first dramatic role – it marks his first role of real substance period. With this role, Hader proves that as great as he is at hitting one note jokes, he’s more than capable of handling three-dimensionality.

Jenny Slate is both hilarious and touching in Obvious Child.

Jenny Slate accomplishes that same feat in Obvious Child, the debut film from writer/director Gillian Robespierre. Unlike Wiig and Hader, Slate isn’t an SNL icon. Her stint lasted only one season, and she’s probably best remembered for accidentally saying the F-word during her first on-air appearance.

Nevertheless, Slate has made numerous recurring appearances on the likes of Parks and Recreation and Bob’s Burgers (my two favorites!) since leaving SNL, killing it in the type of comically broad roles that wouldn’t be out of place on the late-night sketch show. But with Obvious Child, she’s been given the chance to play something far more nuanced.

Slate plays Donna, a late 20s book store employee who moonlights as a stand-up comic. After her boyfriend dumps her and she loses her job, Donna has a one-night stand with an earnest nice guy (Jake Lacey, who people might recognize as Jim 2.0 from the later seasons of The Office). The experience causes Donna to get pregnant and she decides to get an abortion, all the while the guy keeps trying to hang out with her.

The film has become known as the abortion comedy, and that is and isn’t an apt description. Yes it contains an abortion, but few people would call Fast Times at Ridgemont High a movie about abortion, and it's the same here.

Obvious Child takes no stance – political, moral or otherwise – on topic; it just so happens to be about a woman who, finding herself unfit to be a parent, decides to have an abortion, grows a little from the experience, and then begins a relationship with the man who inseminated her. It's like a Woody Allenesque take on the romantic beats of Juno... except with adults... and an abortion.

Slate is a revelation as Donna, carrying the film on her small shoulders while embodying a whole series of contradictions (adorable and crude, aloof and neurotic, vulnerable and strong). Like any good comedian, Donna is daring on stage, with barely any filter, sharing everything up there, including intimate details of her personal life (and the lives of those closest to her). This movie is about how she learns to share and open up when she's not on stage.

Obvious Child is a really funny, almost feel-good film, which is odd to say given the narrative, but there it is. It's a top film of 2015 for me, even though I do have some reservations about the overly rosy finale -- everything resolves so unbelievably perfectly for the lead that it began reminding me a bit of Pretty Woman.

That said, the movie earns a lot of good will, and the final scene is a perfect way to close out the particular story their telling here. This isn't really about abortion, just like Pretty Woman wasn't really about prostitution. A proper tonal and thematic comparison would be something like Frances Ha or Girls, since Obvious Child is actually exploring the process of a young woman trying to find her footing in the world.

Skeleton Twins B, Obvious Child B+

Angelina Jolie and a Ballsy Theme Help "Maleficent" Play Up

Angelina Jolie acts opposite her daughter Vivienne in Maleficent.

It would be easy to pre-judge Maleficent as just another piece of junk on the increasingly growing list of live-action cash-ins adapted from animated classics. I did that myself when the film came out, but I recently caught up with it on DVD, and while I can't say I think Maleficent entirely works, I was pleasantly surprised by how ballsy an adaptation it turned out to be.

Growing up, I always thought Sleeping Beauty, its villain especially, was dumb. The idea of the villain cursing a princess to an impending deep sleep because she was mad she didn't get invited to the girls christening just seemed lame. The creators of Maleficent seem to have realized this, as they've altered the story to make the title character's decision to curse an infant far more understandable.

Here, Maleficent (Angelina Jolie) is originally a kind fairy whose actions are motivated by revenge against the girl's father Stefan (Sharlto Copley), a former love interest who, in his power-hungry quest to ascend to the throne, drugs her and cuts off her wings to garner favor with a dying king looking to name an heir. When Princess Aurora (Vivienne Jolie-Pitt as a child, Elle Fanning as a teen) is left in the hands of three bumbling fairies, Maleficent begins to covertly care for the girl as a sort of fairy godmother, coming to regret her curse and yet seemingly powerless to stop it.

Despite this being a Disney film, the wing-cutting plays like a metaphor for rape, a fact that Jolie herself commented on in a BBC interview, saying it was a story about "how the abused then have a choice of abusing others or overcoming and remaining loving, open people."

That's some heavy stuff for a kids' movie, and while I certainly question if it’s appropriate, that aspect of the film works pretty well due to the conviction of Jolie's performance. Although this is clearly a money gig for her, Jolie brings her A-game and single-handedly elevates the movie. The woman is a phenomenal actress, and she’s more than capable of bringing nuance on cue, but there’s something about the playful wit she has on screen that registers especially well here.

Sticking with positive attributes, I did enjoy the twist the film puts on the traditional fairy tale ending, even if it was lifted straight out of Frozen. There’s also brevity to the film that definitely bodes well – Maleficent is the rare film in this genre that doesn’t overstay its welcome. However, that is sort of a double-edged sword – there’s a whole lot of telling and not much showing.

All that being said, I have one big issue with the film, and that is how severely it sucks the magic right out of this classic fairy tale. A lot of that starts with character. While Maleficent is fleshed out nicely and Aurora fairs ok (even if she’s basically a pleasant plot device), almost every other character suffers in this translation. This interpretation of Stefan is a disaster, and as much as I’ve liked him in other things, Copley doesn’t deliver here. I’m not sure how much of that is his fault – there’s no dimension to the role – but he’s far too important to the story to feel so blah.

Meanwhile, the concept of giving Maleficent’s raven sidekick occasional human form is interesting but ultimately very awkwardly handled. And then there’s the fairies – the totally tone deaf fairies. These three were a treasured part of the the Disney animated classic, but here they are an annoying afterthought.

Outside of some flourishes by Jolie, there’s just no fun to any of this, and fairy tales, especially ones marketed to kids the way this film has been, should be fun. There's still a lot to like here thematically, but Maleficent is not as fleshed out as it needs to be, and there's ultimately a sense of ambition overreaching grasp. B-

"Draft Day" Wants to Be Football Movies' Answer to "Moneyball," but Falls Way Short of the Goal

Kevin Costner does his best to make Draft Day enjoyable.

“Draft Day is to football as Moneyball is to baseball.” 

That’s how I imagine Draft Day was pitched and sold, but while both films focus on the front office maneuvering and domestic issues of general managers, they don’t represent a correlation worthy of a verbal reasoning test. Better to say Moneyball is to a great film as Draft Day is to some ludicrous fantasy scenario with overzealous editing tricks that’s propped up and made serviceable by the charms of Kevin Costner. That probably wouldn’t get put onto any test either, but at least it’s honest. 

Costner plays Sonny Weaver Jr., the GM of the Cleveland Browns who has drawn the ire of fans for firing the beloved long-time coach of the team, a man who also happens to have been Sonny’s dad and who also just happened to die a week before the draft. 

With the seventh pick in the draft, Sonny is debating between Vontae Mack, the flashy linebacker he’d like to take, and Ray Jennings, the running back the fans and current coach of the team (Dennis Leary) want him to choose. Then he gets a call from the Seattle Seahawks with an offer: they’ll give him the first pick in the draft, which he could then use on heralded quarterback Bo Callahan, for his next three first round selections. Despite having a veteran quarterback coming off an injury who he believes in (Tom Welling), Sonny makes the deal because his owner (Frank Langella) has told him to make a splash. Then he spends the rest of the movie trying to convince himself why taking Callahan is a bad idea. 

For most of its length, Draft Day is satisfactorily amiable, even if it goes way overboard with overlapping scene editing and all the damn domestic issues plaguing Sonny on this of all days. That his budget person/secret girlfriend (Jennifer Garner) would tell Sonny she’s pregnant – on this of all days – seems odd enough, but then throw on top of that the fact that his mother would throw a stink about spreading his father’s ashes on the field – on this of all days – and it just comes across as a wee bit much. I mean seriously – on this of all days? 

However, the film really runs into problems with the climax, which takes a look at the far-fetched domestic pile up, and says “You want to get ridiculous? Fine. I’ll get ridiculous. Nothing is more ridiculous about this movie than me. ‘Ridiculous’ is my middle name.” (warning: spoilers coming). 

Draft Day employs a whole lot of overlapping split screens to liven
up what is mostly a series of phone conversations.

Convinced that Callahan doesn’t have what it takes, Weaver goes with his gut and takes Mack. When Callahan starts falling down the draft board, it begins to look like Seattle could end up with the consensus number one pick and Sonny’s next to first rounders – a true boon for Seattle’s GM, who has been getting crushed by the fans for giving up the rights to drafting the league’s next great quarterback. 

That's when the movie starts slinging bullshit. It becomes obvious Callahan will fall to the Jacksonville Jaguars at six, but their rookie GM is shitting his pants, unsure of what to do and nervous to pick Callahan since other teams are passing on him. Sonny calls the guy and offers him a safety valve against making a disastrous selection – trade Cleveland the sixth pick for three years of second rounders. Miraculously, the Jacksonville GM takes the deal, and then Sonny calls the Seattle GM. He offers him the chance to trade for the sixth pick, draft Callahan and calm the vitriol of the Seattle fans, provided he return the three first round picks back to Cleveland. Seattle takes the bait, Cleveland picks Jennings, and Sonny comes out of the whole thing looking like a genius. 

The problem here is that this whole climax is utter nonsense – it’s the type of thing only a genie could make happen, and even then I’m not sure. There is no way in hell the Seattle GM would just cave and give up the picks like that. He’d probably call the bluff, noting that Weaver passed on the quarterback once, and he’d probably do it again. 

And even if the Seattle GM would be spooked into doing what Sonny wanted, there is no way three second round selections would garner a top 10 pick in the draft. And even if the rookie GM was an idiot willing to do that, he’d still have a slew of advisers telling him, ‘No.’ And even if the team in Jacksonville did decide to trade the pick, they’d almost certainly use all of the allotted ten minutes to find a better deal (perhaps with Seattle, who would have all sorts of picks to deal). Instead, they trade with Cleveland before they are even on the clock – an awful decision that occurs solely so the movie can allow Sonny enough time to call Seattle and make a trade. 

Although it was criticized for being too inside-football for mainstream audiences, Draft Day, like Moneyball before it, tries to make things as digestible as possible. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but unfortunately, while Moneyball opted to focus on the simpler aspects of a complicated system, Draft Day flat out dumbs things down. Although reality isn’t something I really require in my movies, and it’s definitely not something I require in my sports movies, Draft Day is just too damn much to take. C-

Phillip Seymour Hoffman Delivers One Final Great Lead Performance in the Brilliantly Measured "A Most Wanted Man"

A Most Wanted Man reminds us (as if we needed reminding) 
that Phillip Seymour Hoffman was an acting titan.

The life of a spy is not a glamorous one. It is not a life filled with globe-trotting chases, torrid love affairs and action-packed shootouts between dapper physical specimens, but rather a great deal of clerical work, slow surveillance and back-alley conversations between anonymously ordinary folk. It doesn't get the heart pumping; it systematically devours it. At least that's the approach taken by novelist John le Carré, whose take on espionage features a lot of political maneuvering and frustration, but very little sense of fun and adventure.

While that probably doesn't sound like the best sales pitch for a film, it's most certainly an apt one. And although such an approach might not seem the best for a movie, I can tell you that films based on le Carré's work have been some of the best of the last several years.

That doesn't mean they're for everyone. For instance, while I found Tomas Alfredson's Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy to be one of the more rewarding films of 2011, Candace fell asleep around the halfway mark. It's hard to blame her -- we watched it in the middle of a five-film binge, and, on top of that, it is dry, dense and not easily penetrated (I had a similar experience with Zodiac, another moody, slow burn that I should really revisit at some point). 

I say all this as a lead up to a review of A Most Wanted Man, the latest le Carré adaptation and one of my favorite films of 2014. It's cut from the same cloth as Tinker Tailor Solider Spy, but the story isn't half as sprawling, so it feels more focused. For what it's worth: Candace did not fall asleep.

The story revolves around the efforts of an off-the-books terrorist investigation unit in Hamburg, Germany led by the disheveled and jaded Gunther Bachmann (the late Phillip Seymour Hoffman). Gunther prefers to play the long game, collecting information and making contacts within the Muslim community. This puts him at odds with Mohr (Rainer Bock), the leader or a rival unit with a more aggressive and entirely short-sighted approach, not to mention his superiors, men who allowed the 9/11 attackers to operate a home-base in Hamburg right under their noses and have thus developed an itchy trigger finger.

Willem Dafoe and Rachel McAdams bring dimension to their roles.

When Chechen-Russian immigrant Issa Karpov (Grigori Dobrygin) arrives in Hamburg seeking asylum and a large inheritance of dirty money, he becomes a prime target for both units. However, while Mohr wants to bring him in on suspicions of being a jihadist and go to work on him, Gunther wants to keep Issa free and covertly coerce him into donating his money to a supposed Muslim philanthropist (Homayoun Ershadi) to see if the philanthropist will reroute some of the funds to a shipping company Gunther believes to be a front for Al Qaeda.

The idea is to ensnare the philanthropist then use him to get to the actual terrorists, and a tacit agreement with a string-pulling CIA agent (Robin Wright Penn) buys Gunther three days to do things his way. That's no easy task considering he must turn a banker (Willem Dafoe) and Karpov's human right's lawyer (Rachel McAdams) in time to carry out the scheme. Plus, there's the question of if Gunther can even trust these outside officials to stay out of his way, especially in light of a previous failure in Beirut brought on by such bureaucratic cooperation.

This material fits director Anton Corbijn like a glove, as his last foray behind the camera was the similarly muted and restrained, yet atmospherically textured The American. Like that under-appreciated George Clooney gem, A Most Wanted Man is first and foremost a thoughtful and tightly-calibrated character study of a weary professional in a shady, soul-crushing line of work.

It's also a fitting last lead role for Hoffman. Perhaps the preeminent actor of his generation, Hoffman was an actor of tremendous range, but he specialized in playing bleary-eyed, inward sad sacks fighting against irrelevance. It's clear Gunther has made many personal sacrifices for his work -- for proof, just look at his relationship with his second-in-command (Nina Hoss), a woman with whom he shares a shorthand banter and more than a few longing looks. A scene in which the two share a kiss to avoid blowing their cover is as sad as it is charged, because it hints at the connection both have given up in their commitment to "make the world a better place."

Hoffman is as controlled and precise as he's ever been here, and yet the film grants him one last opportunity to nail blustery rage in his final scene. It's the tonal opposite of the scene that concluded Zero Dark Thirty, but intriguingly still hints at the same thematic point -- the hopelessness and disillusionment inherent in the spy game, a profession that takes and takes, but rarely gives back. A

Both "Under the Skin" and "Snowpiercer" Prove Memorably Off-Beat, But Earn Vastly Different Grades

Under the Skin has been hailed as a masterpiece by some. Not me.

As I stated in my review of Sex Tape, the more movies I see, the tougher it is to sit through mediocre ones with nothing interesting going on. There’s a lot of cookie cutter stuff out there, films aimed right down the middle that are shot, acted and scripted just well enough to be passable entertainment.

Yet I still watch plenty of movies, and I try my best to review them when I can, because everyone once and a while, a movie hits a nerve or does something really cool or surprising, or, even better, something truly worth remembering or discussing.

That doesn’t always mean the movie is good or that I even enjoyed it. A few months ago I caught a really bizarre flick called Under the Skin. It features Scarlett Johansson as an alien who preys on young single men in Scotland so that she can take their insides and send them up to the home planet leaving only their skin behind.

The logline sounds cool, and the film is popping up on a slew of end-of-year top 10 lists, but I found the film pretty boring and opaque. It’s just a bit too ponderous for me, but at the same time, I respect the audacity of writer/director Jonathan Glazer’s filmmaking. Under the Skin features some striking imagery and haunting sequences, and it manages to remain intriguing despite the drawbacks of being such an arty endeavor.

Much of the credit for that belongs to Johansson who delivers a nicely calibrated piece of acting that serves as an interesting counterpoint to her stellar vocal performance in last year’s Her (that one was all voice, this one is almost entirely physical). A few years back, when her sexpot ScarJo vibe was at its apex, it seemed like she might be destined to follow in the footsteps of Jennifer Lopez, a gifted actress whose screen credibility was destroyed be her off-screen persona. That didn’t happen, and Johansson has emerged an actress equally at home in big budget action films as she is in these more personal independents.

Snowpiercer has a game cast of great actors.

Of course, I prefer when a movie does something unique, and I actually enjoy it as well. Snowpiercer, the English-language debut of writer/director Bong Joon-ho, is a prime example.

Set in the aftermath of an experiment that brought on an ice age that killed almost all life on Earth, the film takes place entirely on the Snowpiercer, a massive train that continuously loops around the globe and that is inhabited by an elite class in the front and a poor class in the back.

Conceptually, the film is relatively familiar end-of-days tale with the interesting twist of setting all the action aboard a locomotive. It also joins the growing number of futuristic science fiction films that make overt social commentary on the haves and have-nots (see also Elysium and In Time).

But what distinguishes the film isn’t so much the story it tells, but the way it tells it. The film moves along a predictable path with the insurgents moving from the back of the train to the front, but the moments and beats it hits along the way are just so specifically and wonderfully weird. In his review of the movie, pal Nate Adams wrote of the film’s “odd, shaggy loose strands,” calling particular attention to a scene in which the rebels come face to face with a mob of armed opponents who, in lieu of immediately attacking, make a spectacle of ritually gutting a fish.

It’s a great moment, but there are many others as well – like the way both sides in the aforementioned battle (once the fish gutting is out of the way) stop the violence to recognize the milestone of the train completing another orbit around the world, or the oddity of the bald guy pushing a cart full of eggs or the crazy frequency Tilda Swinton is operating on in this thing.

There is just so much interesting stuff going on throughout Snowpiercer that it’s hard not to be entertained. The plot has a clockwork precision to it that impressively becomes clear during the final 20 minutes. But what really seals the deal and elevates the film from “hey, that’s cool” to “man, this is downright transcendent” is the way Jong-ho intermixes the craziness with shockingly good character beats, most specifically the last act monologue by Chris Evans who plays the defacto leader of the train’s poor inhabitants. It’s a moment you won’t easily forget, and it’s definitely a peak moment for Evans, an actor who just seems to be getting better and better.

Due to producer dissatisfaction over the final cut of the film, Snowpiercer barely got much of a theatrical release. That’s unfortunate, but Netflix and Redbox have it, so you should definitely check it out. It’s totally worth seeing, but more than that, it’s pretty damn good too.

Under the Skin C, Snowpiercer A

"Sex Tape," A Raunchy Comedy Without Much Raunch or Comedy

Is Jason Segel playing older of Cameron Diaz playing younger? 

It’s getting harder and harder for me to watch blandly mediocre movies. If a film is  mediocre but has something interesting going on (acting, action, dialouge, editing, cinematography, anything) – cool. Hell, even if a film totally doesn’t work but really goes for it or has some worthwhile element – cool.

But movies like Sex Tape? Not cool.

Sex Tape is a would-be raunchy comedy from director Jake Kasdan that stars Cameron Diaz and Jason Segel as a married couple that looks to rekindle their sex life by making a sex tape, only to send it out to a number of friends and family due to a convoluted plot built around i-syncing. This is a return to formula of sorts – Kasdan last directed this duo in the successful Bad Teacher, a middling raunchy comedy that at least had to good conscience to be intermittently funny and charming.

This film has no such conscience. There’s nothing all that awful about Sex Tape, but the characterizations are surface level, the resolution is hooey and the comedy aspects just don’t hit at all. Although the particulars are different, the whole thing plays like a poor-man's version of Date Night, which was sort of a poor man's version of True Lies (or any number of movies built around a marriage vastly improving after a night of hijinks).

It’s a frustrating film, because the script has been partially credited to Segel and Nicholas Stoller, two funny and emotionally resonant collaborators who, even at their worst (The Five-Year Engagement), have been far more hit than miss.

A strong correlation can be made here between Sex Tape and a real sex tape. It probably seemed like a better idea during the planning stages, and it was likely a lot more fun to make the thing than it is to watch it. D

Hardy Makes the Modest "Locke" A Compelling Ride

Locke is a film entirely set in a car.

Locke is 84 minutes in a car with one character who makes a series of phone calls during a long drive to London. That’s it – that’s the extent of the movie – so it's kind of hard to review.

I suppose many people would call the film experimental, but it’s a pretty straightforward domestic drama about a guy who made a mistake and is now paying the piper in an attempt to do the right thing.

Ivan Locke (Tom Hardy) is foreman who is supposed to be supervising a historically big concrete pour in Birmingham, but has instead decided to travel all the way to London to be with a colleague he knocked up during a one-night stand because she has gone into premature labor. This decision puts him in a perilous situation at with his bosses and work associates, not to mention his wife and kids, all of whom he spends time talking to on the phone during his life-altering drive.

Given the constraints of the plot, the movie hangs entirely on Hardy’s shoulders, and he’s more than up for the task. Although he’s best known for live-wire performances in the likes of Bronson and The Dark Knight Rises, Hardy easily inhabits this regular guy, somehow making Ivan compelling by remaining calm and systematically in control even as his life spins wildly out of control.

Locke is a modest film, the kind that nobody’s bound to put on a top ten list, or much remember five, ten years from now. Although it’s an interesting watch that maintains a palpable tension throughout, it’s mostly a well-done exercise that’s fated to be resume padding for Hardy and writer/director Steven Knight. B-

"Muppets Most Wanted" Plays to Brand's Strengths

The Muppets agree to make a world tour their next adventure.

Early on in Muppets Most Wanted, Kermit encourages Miss Piggy, Gonzo and the rest of his pals to play it safe and stick to their strengths. He argues that even though they are relevant again due to the success of the Jason Segal-led The Muppets (a fact that is emphasized by the opening number “We’re Doing a Sequel”), they are still in a perilous spot popularity-wise, so they shouldn't do much to shake up a formula that works.

He’s talking about the on-stage acts they’ll be delivering during their world tour, but it’s also a meta moment that aptly describes Muppets Most Wanted, a film that doesn't do anything innovative but coasts along amiably on the strength of some giddy puns, a zany energy, a slew of celebrity cameos, and (most importantly) a helping of charming original tunes.

The film focuses on the evil plot of Constantine the frog, a master criminal who looks like Kermit with a mole on his cheek. With the assistance of his number two (Ricky Gervais), Constantine escapes jail and then kidnaps and replaces Kermit, all the while using the cover of a Muppets World Tour to pull off a number of heists culminating in the theft of England’s Crown Jewels. Constantine makes for a poor Kermit, but none of his pals notice (except Animal) because the less structured impostor allows them to do whatever they want with the show.

Meanwhile, Kermit is trapped in a Siberian gulag, helping prisoners like Big Papa (Ray Liotta), Prison King (Jermaine Clement) and Danny Trejo (Danny Trejo) put on a revue at the behest of the warden (Tina Fey). And CIA agent Sam Eagle is working with a Clouseau-like Interpol agent (Ty Burrell) to track down the thieves behind the growing number of heists.

This gag single-handedly justifies this whole movie. 

The narrative is predictably disposable, but the film shines in similar ways to its predecessor. Director/writer James Bobin and co-writer Nicholas Stoller once again deliver fun that's amusingly meta, sneaking in some pretty big laughs  (the appearance of Rizzo and Robin and the sight gag of Kermit and Miss Piggy’s future kids) amidst the mostly knowing chuckles.

Although there’s nothing here that approaches his Oscar-winning “Man or Muppet” or even “Life’s a Happy Song,” Bret McKenzie has littered the soundtrack with some really clever and fun songs, especially “I’ll Get You What You Want” and “Interrogation Song.”  Likewise, while none of the celebrity cameos work as well as the Jim Parsons scene in The Muppets, three or four of the 20 or so included here come close.

As I said, the movie plays to the strengths of the Muppets. Nothing overly special to see here, but a comforting adventure with some old friends – the type of family film that doesn't hit the heights of something like The Lego Movie, but that will play well on repeat viewings with the kids. B-

Irreverent and Heart-Warming "Guardians of the Galaxy" Demonstrates the Mastery of Marvel

The chemistry of the central team makes Guardians a roaring success.

With Spider-Man, The Fantastic Four and X-Men owned by other movie studios, Marvel was forced to focus on lesser known superheroes when it began releasing films as an independent studio six years ago. Many questioned their plan to build multiple movies in an interconnected universe around the likes of Iron Man, Captain America and Thor, but Marvel pulled it off with aplomb.

 

Since taking those initial risks in the lead-up to The Avengers, the studio has been coasting a bit, chugging along on the strength of sequels as they put the pieces in motion to continue cultivating an expansive Marvel Cinematic Universe.

 

But could they get people to show up for a truly obscure property, and what did it mean for the company's long-term hopes if one of their films failed? The answer to the first question is a resounding yes, and the answer to the second question will have to wait until next summer, because Guardians of the Galaxy is a smash hit, and a deserving one at that.

 

One of the things I've enjoyed most about the Marvel output thus far is how willing they've been to mix things up by embracing elements from other genres. Captain America: The First Avenger was a period war film, more reminiscent of Indiana Jones than a typical run-of-the-mill superhero outing. Thor played up the Shakespearean overtones, and from what I've heard, Captain America: The Winter Soldier takes more than a few cues from the political espionage thrillers of the '70s, while next summer's Ant-Man is said to be a heist film.

 

This marks the third sci-fi franchise to cast Zoe Saldana as the female lead.

Although Guardians hits most of the beats you might expect in the super hero genre, it's actually more of a space adventure in the vein of Star Wars. In fact, one could argue this is practically the Star Wars film fanboys were hoping to get back when George Lucas announced he'd be making a prequel trilogy.

 

Like Star Wars, Guardians focuses on a rag tag team of assorted underdogs ultimately growing into a pseudo family with the common goal of thwarting an intergalactic evil. The team includes a kick-ass princess, a tough-talking mercenary with a gigantic partner whose vocal intonations only he understands, and a leader with a mysterious lineage. There's no robot side kicks -- instead they've got a bad ass warrior looking to avenge the death of his family -- but, overall, it's pretty damn familiar.

 

That being said, this isn't just some Star Wars clone. Even though they are similar in broad strokes, the lead characters here are all uniquely defined and well inhabited, and beyond that, they are surrounded by a world that is densely populated and  feels authentically lived in. Besides Guardians operates on a way loopier energy -- in truth, it plays like a film you'd find in the middle of a spectrum that had Star Wars at one end and Spaceballs at the other.

 

As Peter Quill/Star Lord, Chris Pratt officially announces himself as a movie star, proving more than capable of carrying a blockbuster on his shoulders. He's been doing a nice job of modulating his ascendance in Hollywood over the last few years, parlaying his successful comedic performance on Parks and Recreation into a number of diverse film roles in the likes of Moneyball, Her and Zero Dark Thirty. With this, The Lego Movie and next year's Jurassic World, things are going into overdrive for the hardworking actor.

 





A post-credit cameo by Howard the Duck is a nice nod to the last time a

Marvel property this weird made it to the big screen. That film was produced

by George Lucas, whose Star Wars clearly influenced Guardians.



But the best-in-show work involves the motion capture characters. Watching Rocket Raccoon (Bradley Cooper) and Groot (Vin Diesel), it's hard not to think of Jar Jar Binks -- how this movie could do this type of thing so perfectly after The Phantom Menace flubbed it so badly is astonishing; and I don't just mean that in reference to the quality of the special effects.

 

Some reviews have commented that the film wastes many of it's best known actors in little roles (and this beside casting the two biggest draws as CGI characters). However, while that is sometimes true (Glenn Close's presence is pointless), the likes of John C. Reilly and Benicio Del Toro get to steal a few scenes while adding a believable depth to the proceedings.

 

The film isn't all perfect. Freshness and tone represent the film's greatest strengths, but there are parts where Guardians gets a little too quippy, and it's ultimately just another in a long line of action movies that require the heroes keep a powerful doohickey out of the hands of the bad guys (snore).

 

Furthermore, this is yet another Marvel movie where said bad guys barely rate. Thanos (Josh Brolin) is little more than window dressing, and Ronan the Accuser (Lee Pace) is only a marginally better version of Malekith, the super shitty baddie from Thor: The Dark World. However, I will give the film one thing -- it does include Yondu (Michael Rooker), who, in just a few scenes, becomes the most interesting non-Loki antagonist the Marvel movie universe has to offer (for those keeping track of the Star Wars parallels, he's kind of the film's Jabba the Hut).

 

I could probably go on and on about the film for quite a while, but all you need to know is that it works like gangbusters, mostly because the central characters are so fun to watch together, but also because it has a lot of heart. There was a real chance for disaster here -- two of the five leads are a tree who constantly says "I am Groot" and a short-tempered raccoon -- but writer/director James Gunn and his cast and crew have really pulled off something special. A-