Live-Action "The Jungle Book" Provides Fresh Take On Old Tale

Jon Favreau's take on The Jungle Book is pretty damn good.

In recent years, Disney has fully committed to remaking their animated films in live action. Alice in Wonderland, Cinderella, Maleficent, Alice in Wonderland: Through the Looking Glass, The Jungle Book and the recently released Pete's Dragon have already come out, and a slew of others, including the hotly-anticipated Emma Watson-led Beauty and the Beast, are in the pipeline.

The strategy makes sense. The six films Disney has already released have garnered upwards of $2.5 billion worldwide. Why attempt to create something new when that kind of lucrative layup is right there for the taking?

I'm generally ambivalent about the concept of remakes, although I'll cop to preferring an artistically legit, non-monetary reason for making one. I prefer remakes that improve upon flawed films in some way (Ocean's 11), bring great stories to a larger audience (e.g. Insomnia, The Departed), or add some new wrinkle or point of view. For all its flaws, Maleficent accomplished that last point, while films like Cinderella and Alice and Wonderland felt like pure cash grabs through and through.

Jon Favreau's The Jungle Book proves itself worthy. The fact that effects have advanced to the point that this world can be believably rendered in "live action" could justify a remake on its own, but the film seals the deal by taking a decidedly modern approach to a story that has long been stuck in antiquated and offensive concepts of racial superiority. As originally conceived by Rudyard Kipling and then reiterated in the 1967 animated version, this story has historically advocated that we all need to be put in our proper place. It's imperialistic propaganda, a creed against social upheaval that simultaneously implies primitive cultures need to adopt Western advancements.

Throughout the film, Mowgli (Neel Sethi) is chastised for utilizing ingenuity to accomplish tasks because "it's not the wolf way" to use such tricks. Seeing the inherent benefits of what Mowgli does, Baloo (Bill Murray) reacts by saying "who cares?" And that's definitely the viewpoint this version hammers home. It follows the "you do you" ideology, suggesting that differences are to be celebrated and that nobody has to fit into predetermined boxes.

It's crazy scary how much of Christopher Walken's actual face the mo-cap

people transferred to King Louie.

From a plot perspective, the most interesting thing this version does occurs at the end. In the original text, Mowgli uses fire to best Shere Khan, achieving supremacy over the animal kingdom by embracing civilization. This results in him being forced to leave the jungle and be with man where he never really fits in anyway. As a result, he becomes a being with no nation.

That's far more tragic than the animated film many of us are most familiar with. In that version, the fire doesn't distance Mowgli from his friends, but he does make the decision to embrace humanity and civilization anyway, because it's what is best for him. In other words, he steps into the predetermined box he belongs in.

Here, Mowgli definitely learns to appreciate his position as man, but, ever the noble savage, he avoids distancing himself from the animals by rejecting fire and avoiding the corruption that comes with civilization. As what is essentially a mouthpiece for Kipling's original vision, Shere Khan (Idris Elba) has spent the entire movie warning against that corruption, and, yet, when Mowgli throws man's red flower away and proves him wrong, he says it's the stupidest thing the mancub could've done. Neither Khan nor Kipling understand the outside the box thinking.

There is so much going on here thematically, that it's hard to believe this is a kids movie. For instance, some could argue that Shere Khan functions as a stand-in for current isolationist politicians that prey on fears related to immigration and race. Others might see allusions to gun control or technology run amok in Mowgli's decision to reject fire and the power and adjoining distance that come with it.

That being said, this isn't some heady experience. Like the animated film, this new version is a ton of fun, and it even offers it's own renditions of "Bear Necessities" and "I Wanna Be Like You." The vocal performances of both Murray (soulful conman) and Elba (seriously terrifying) are the undeniable highlights of the voice cast, but Ben Kingsley, Christopher Walken and Scarlett Johansson do strong work as Bagheera, King Louie, and Kaa. I particularly appreciate how Walken's interpretation of King Louie as a sort of mob heavy sidesteps the distracting racial controversy surrounding the animated version of the character.

The effects in this thing are ridiculously good most of the time, and this is probably the best use of this technology since Life of Pi (reviewed here) or Avatar. However, there are moments where the cracks show, which are extra noticeable since the other moments around those moments have been so good. Fortunately, Sethi, the one real thing on screen, is up to the task of carrying the movie. His authenticity goes a long way toward selling this whole endeavor as a family experience fully worthy of your time. A-

Far From Ruinous, "Ghostbusters" Is a Celebration of a Childhood of Busting Ghosts

Proof of my childhood obsession. I wore this

constantly, usually along with my proton pack.

People have been lobbing unjust grenades at the latest Ghostbusters movie since it was first announced, based partly on the fact that Sony was rebooting the property at all, but also simply because it was going to star women instead of men. The narrative: this film was ruining childhoods and PC culture had gone too far. It's a pretty hilarious fear when you consider this tweet from David Ehrlich, senior film critic at Indie Wire.



Ghostbusters (2016) is finally out in theaters now, which means there's actually a product to judge, as opposed to blind speculation. The film is getting mostly good reviews, but it's hard to say if that's a knee jerk reaction from reviewers keen to knock nostalgia-huggers and misogynists down a peg, or a legitimate reaction to the film itself, which in the here and now isn't so much a movie as it is the locus of a warped culture war.

Based on the finished product, writer/director Paul Feig certainly has a sense of humor about all of it. Early in the film, after they post a video of an encounter with a ghost on the Internet, the leads read some of the comments, including "Ain't no bitches gonna hunt no ghosts." They brush aside the criticism, saying something about the pointlessness of putting stock in what Internet trolls type in the middle of the night (zing!).

But the film also addresses what it's like to be a woman in a man's world in the way it consistently puts the leads up against obstructionist men who seek to delegitimize them. Every female in the film provides them with help in some way, whereas every male functions as hindrance or a road block. Reflecting on it now, it's hard not to consider the way our culture treats women and the victim-blaming that follows sexual assault.

That's all in the subtext, but I don't want to overstep. Questioned credibility and presumed incompetence is an inherent part of a Ghostbusters outing, or really most paranormal-tinged movies in general. Believe me when I say this is a popcorn film first and foremost, and one of my favorite things about it is that the sex of the leads is largely irrelevant. By doing nothing more than modifying a few jokes, this film could easily star the likes of Jason Sudeikis, Will Forte, Bill Hader, and Craig Robinson instead of Kristen Wiig, Melissa McCarthy, Kate McKinnon, and Leslie Jones. The fact that it doesn't isn't an indication of out of control political correctness, it's just the way it is.

It really is amazing how nostalgia manifests itself. Sometimes, there's out-sized excitement when studios bring back beloved properties (e.g. Fuller House, Jurassic World), and other times there's this type of overblown negativity. I remember getting into a conversation with an angry fan just after the release of the first CGI Alvin and the Chipmunks. She was incensed that a movie studio was stomping on the sanctity of her childhood memories, taking something she had loved and denigrating it for monetary gain. I remember arguing that a cartoon about singing chipmunks wasn't exactly a beacon of artistic integrity, that it was always a mediocre property designed with a bottom line to make money and sell merchandise. It's basically processed junk food, but it has been all along - the quality is really no different, the perspective is.

Kate McKinnon is amazing.

Ghostbusters is a bit different in that regard, because it has a deserved reputation as an outright classic. As such, someone could certainly make a legitimate argument that doing a follow up besmirches the original solely for the sake of commerce. At least they could have 30 years ago. The reality is that the franchise itself has already been diluted with oodles of lesser entries -- multiple cartoons, video games and a true sequel -- none of which can hold a candle to the original.

Unsurprisingly, this film doesn't either, but it's not a bad successor by any means. That's mostly because it's very funny, but there's also the refreshing fact that it's preoccupied with being its own thing. Don't get me wrong, there's plenty of callbacks and cameos, but when it comes to tone, this one is very different. A laconic edge hangs over the original film, which is tons of fun no doubt, but also carries the same melancholy that defined every Bill Murray/Harold Ramis collaboration.

It's often said that Ramis grounded Dan Aykroyd's fantastical treatment for the first film, and while this one doesn't get as crazy as his original vision, it definitely leans more toward the Aykroyd vibe, which is unsurprising given his status as executive producer. It's still got an air of anarchic mischief (mostly due to the bemused live-wire that is McKinnon who's Holtzman feels like the greatest possible amalgamation of Peter, Egon and Ray), but it's more joyful than cynical, excitably spastic and consumed with an over abundance of technobabble and gadgetry.

While the central players in the original had a blue collar, been-there-done-that vibe, these new characters are fresh-faced and beyond giddy. In terms of plotting, that makes sense (the original takes place over a far longer period of time), but it's more than that. Honestly, I lost count of how many times a character says something like "that was awesome" or "this is so cool," but we're talking multiple dozens.

And it is cool. Whereas the original film played things pretty simple (proton pack to subdue ghosts, traps to capture them, and a resolution featuring one foe), the new one introduces an armory of gadgets, allows for ghosts to be vaporized, not just trapped, and ends with an action-packed slugfest between our heroes and an army of ghosts. Needless to say, the toy possibilities are endless. And that's kind of appropriate given that this film is less an ode to the original film as it is to The Real Ghostbusters cartoon and what it felt like to play Ghostbusters as a kid.

The Times Square throw down is indicative of the different approach here.

Getting more specific on the particulars of the film, I'll say that I'm a big fan of all these funny ladies bouncing off of each other, although I thought the script went over the top with all the scientific speak. I greatly enjoyed Chris Hemsworth's commitment to stupidity, and thought hanging the spine of the film on the fractured friendship between Wiig's Erin and McCarthy's Abby was a smart move, even if the resolution felt formulaic. I liked the way Slimmer and Stay Puft were used, but at the same time I was pretty underwhelmed by the film's inability to introduce new fun adversaries like them.

Speaking of adversaries, the big bad guy ultimately morphs into the ghostbusters logo (a nod to the opening credits of The Real Ghostbusters), but before that I found him to be the weakest part of the film. I guess they weren't exactly going to vilify the environmental protection agency in 2016, so an angry nerd makes sense, especially when you consider how well his arc plays off of the central one involving Erin embracing outsider status.

As far as science fiction antecedents with a debt to Ghostbusters are concerned, this doesn't quite measure up to Men in Black but it's a step above the likes of Evolution. It certainly doesn't trample all over any childhoods, and I say that as someone who's whole childhood was defined by Ghostbusters with a dash of Ninja Turtles, '60s era Batman and Monster Squad thrown in.

Some may not like that a group of women are leading the film, and they may even stoop to suggesting Ramis is rolling over in his grave (more on this in a great essay by his daughter), but screw 'em. This puppy brought back vivid memories of running around the school yard pretending to be ghostbusters with boys and girls, not to mention the original badass girl ghostbuster, Janine. The film is a celebration of what it meant to love Ghostbusters as a kid, and girls should get to play in that sandbox too. I stand by that claim, even though I acknowledge it is nudgingly muddied, at least on the symbolic level, by the image of four females literally shooting the Ghostbusters logo in the nuts at the end of the film (zing!). B

Clooney Disappoints With Disjointed and Treacly "The Monuments Men"

The Monuments Men has a hell of a cast.

I expected to love The Monuments Men.

It features a plethora of actors I adore in George Clooney, Matt Damon, Cate Blanchett, Bill Murray, and John Goodman. It's based on a fascinating, true-life story about a platoon of art historians and curators tasked with reclaiming and returning art Hitler pillaged during WWII after it was discovered he planned to destroy it all if he lost the war. And it's written, directed and produced by Clooney, a Hollywood icon with eclectic tastes and a consistent desire to work on quality films.

 

And yet, having finally seen it, I have to say I'm disappointed. It's good in spurts and looks fantastic, but it's a tonal, episodic mess that's far too preachy and treacly for its own good. 

 

In case the trailer didn't give it away, The Monuments Men is a message movie. It has a theme -- art and culture are important to defining who we are and are worth risking your neck for -- and it hits that theme hard. 

Conceptually, that's a good thing, but unfortunately the film goes overboard on the sentimentality, straining for poignancy at every turn. The film's heart is in the right place, but it has too much on-the-nose monologuing and a laughable denouement that's a direct descendant of the one from the otherwise splendid Saving Private Ryan. The end result is a product that feels awfully artificial.

 

Meanwhile, the tone of the film is all over the place. Clooney seems to be going for the jauntiness of Ocean's 11 mixed with the schmaltz of a Capra film, which doesn't play to his strengths as a writer/director. Clooney has proven adept at serious civic lessons (Good Night, and Good Luck), but inept at light comedy (Leatherheads). Unfortunately, mixing the two together doesn't really work.

 

Bill Murray and Bob Balaban do a lot with a little, which I guess is

kind of their thing in general, so why not here.

All that being said, The Monuments Men's biggest problem is it's lack of narrative drive. The script breaks its characters into teams, sending them off on various objectives that don't really build toward anything in the way tasks would in a heist film along the lines of the Ocean films. This results in a movie that feels like a loosely connected series of vignettes, some of which are interesting, most of which feel like wheel spinning and all of which don't coalesce into a dynamic whole. The film has more in common with the likes of Valentine's Day and New Year's Eve than was probably intended.

 

The tandem of Murray and Bob Balaban get all the best material. There's a nice scene in which the two stumble into a Mexican standoff of sorts with an SS soldier, another where Murray gets emotional over a recorded message sent from his family at Christmas, and a third where the two come across a former Nazi we know to be a baddie but they do not. Each scene with these guys is interesting -- sadly that cannot be said about the rest of the Monuments Men.

 

Actually, that's not entirely fair -- Hugh Bonneville gets some nice grace notes to play in his brief role as a washed out alcoholic who gets a second chance to make something of himself as part of this operation. But the rest is pretty piss poor. Goodman and Jean Dujardin, last seen together on screen in The Artist, get the shortest shrift with a collection of scenes that add up to very little and aren't even involving or cute in and of themselves (a factor that saves many of the vignettes featuring the likes of Clooney, Damon and Blanchett). 

 

Thinking on the film, I'm left to wonder if this story might have made for a better documentary. In such a context, the disjointed nature wouldn't seem so bad, and more time could've been spent with historians and the men themselves (or, at the very least, their descendants).

 

As it is, this is a flawed film that mostly wastes the assembled talent because the script doesn't really work on the macro level, despite some micro successes. I'd still rather have my movie stars working on whiffs like this than lower ceiling cookie cutter crap, but The Monuments Men just didn't work for me. C+