Thursday, December 31, 2015

Year-end Mini-Reviews.

"Another year over / and a new one just begun.” With the year finally drawing to a close, I thought I would take some time to run through some very short write ups of smaller movies, or bigger ones from earlier in the year that I haven’t gotten a chance to talk about yet, either because I was too busy, or some of them weren’t large enough for their own individual posts. There’s going to be quite a lot here, and I still have plenty more to get around to, so I hope you enjoy my thoughts on these movies. Thanks for reading!





American Ultra:
“One of these things is not like the other.” It was simply inevitable that the film’s bounce between charming independent romance and kinetic, violent thriller romp was going to be a jarring tonal switch, but… couldn’t you still have found a more naturalistic way of doing it? It’s simply unavoidable that the two sides of the film, fun as they may be in their own individual merits, are going to be a hard pill to swallow, and if that wasn’t bad enough, it’s villains couldn’t feel any more laughable, and not in the good way. Despite it all, what makes the movie more watchable than it probably has any right to be is the charming team-up of Jesse Eisenberg and Kristen Stewart, both sharing such effortlessly enchanting chemistry with each other, and even giving the frequent bloody (sometimes gory) action beats much more weight because of it.

**1/2 / ***** 


Amy:
The life of Amy Winehouse is one submerged in depressing tragedy, and Asif Kapadia’s archival presentation of the infamous singer’s rise and fall, while at times not as fine tuned as need be, is a similarly tragic journey to endure, using the singer’s library of records as effective enhancement to its visual imagery, and plunging into the exploitation of her suffering (from swarms of paparazzi to her own family) in disturbing fashion.

****1/2 / *****


Clouds of Sils Maria:
Something of a spiritual companion to Birdman, this film from Olivier Assayas reflects on similar topics of the rise and fall of talent being overtaken by newer blood with great poignancy and haunting imagery, but would be nothing without its duo of leading actresses. Juliette Binoche is fantastic as an aging actress reliving her past, but its Kristen Stewart who runs away with the film with her quiet, laid back, and strangely relatable assistant. The only reason it isn’t my number one of the year is because its final twenty minutes are a drop in quality.

****1/2 / *****


The End of the Tour:
One of the year’s most subdued and touching films makes the most out of the strong connection between its two central figures, creating a very relaxing mood and atmosphere while not ignoring the deep-rooted trauma beneath said figures. While Jesse Eisenberg’s performance may not be much of a stretch for the young actor, he’s more than made up for by Jason Segel’s lived in, soft-spoken philosopher, sinking into the character with empathy and deeply felt pain.

**** / *****


Ex Machina:
Alex Garland’s directorial debut is a haunting new spin on idealistic sci-fi, serving as a powerful merging of artificial intelligence fears and sexual weakness and manipulation, but is especially centered by its fantastic trio of main performers. Domhnall Gleeson makes for a reserved and thoughtful lead not realizing himself to be pawn, and Oscar Isaac is fantastic as the tension-inducing inventor playing mind games, but its Alicia Vikander as the enigmatic Ava who steals the show, using the actress’s beauty and graceful presence to strong effect, bouncing effortlessly between charming, curious, fearful, sympathizing, and deceptive.

****1/2 / *****


Furious 7:
It’s strange that after fourteen years, not only has the Fast and the Furious franchise kept going, it’s actually gotten better as time goes on. While undoubtedly a thoroughly ridiculous movie that gives the laws of physics a beating, James Wan’s superb adaptation to the action genre, the great cast chemistry, and the gleefully wild car chases and fight sequences ensure that not a single boring second goes by, and packs a surprising emotional punch in its final farewell to Paul Walker.

**** / *****


The Hunting Ground:
Tackling similar territory that he previously explored in The Invisible War, Kirby Dick takes his scathing analysis of sexual assault and focuses on the 100+ campuses facing accusations, only to frustratingly do next to absolutely nothing to actually resolve those issues, especially when said suspects were popular athletes, and also manages to follow the long road of activists and former victims to make actual change happen. It makes for a disturbing, but necessary watch decrying the inactivity and victim-blaming hostility and secrecy to keep the names of campuses untarnished, frustrating the viewer in all of the right ways.

**** / ***** 


In the Heart of the Sea:
A very, *very* mixed bag of good intentions and middling executions, nobody can deny the incredible craftsmanship on display in this film, supplying Ron Howard’s epic adventure with ambitious scope and successful thrills. However, dazzling aesthetics alone don’t sell a movie. Its main problem is the overall ambiguity within the personalities of each character. Chris Hemsworth’s Owen Chase has much time dedicated to his fascinating morals and motives, but every other character feel like ciphers to increase the body count, wasting the great acting talent on display. In particular, Brendan Gleeson’s character is meant to serve as our audience surrogate, recollecting the past story with Ben Wishaw’s Herman Melville as witness, but when Gleeson’s younger interpretation has zero defining character traits, little to no central focus, and perhaps 5 minutes in total screentime and exposure, you pretty much kill whatever emotional investment you want an audience to have with your characters, waiting for the film to do something interesting with them, and then it stops.


**1/2 / *****


Kingsman: The Secret Service:
Another great piece of popcorn entertainment from director Matthew Vaughn, Kingsman’s celebration and deconstruction of classic spy thrillers old and new makes the most out of its at once bloody and classy universe, garnering terrific performances from Colin Firth, Taron Edgerton, and Samuel L. Jackson’s hysterical villain. The action is as kinetic and thrilling as we expect of Vaughn, from Sofia Boutella’s razor legs mowing down hordes of enemies, to a bloody mass murder in a church shot in extensive takes.

**** / *****


Lost River:
While not as terrible as Only God Forgives, Ryan Gosling seemed to take the worst influence from Nicolas Winding Refn in his directorial debut. The actual direction is superb, but the story is incomprehensible nonsense, plunging us into a neon nightmare of context-free randomness (and sometimes nausea inducing imagery), from Matt Smith’s cartoonish local crook, to the bewildering dance moves of Ben Mendelsohn. Despite a memorably weird and adorable turn by Saoirse Ronan that makes me wish the whole movie were about her, there’s little lasting value to the film.

*1/2 / *****


The Man from U.N.C.L.E.:
After finding his Sherlock Holmes movies to be a riotous time that made even chess matches intense to watch, to see Guy Ritchie regress into such flavorless and inconsequential territory, and not even have the action be so good as to mask those issues, is disappointing. At least the team up of Henry Cavill and Armie Hammer is fun to watch, but it’s the women of the film, Alicia Vikander and Elizabeth Debicki, who make the bigger impacts. On the whole, it’s momentarily enjoyable, but completely forgettable.

**1/2 / *****


Me and Earl and the Dying Girl:
I must be on some completely different wavelength than others, because this movie is horrible. Every bit as manipulative as something like My Sister’s Keeper or The Fault in Our Stars, yet trying to pass itself off as something much more subtle than it is, equipped with a grating faux-Wes Anderson aesthetic, a deeply cynical and unpleasant sense of humor, and quite possibly the most punchable main character we’re actually supposed to like I've seen in years. Even its cool soundtrack bits don’t distract from its hollow and empty center.

*1/2 / *****


Mr. Holmes:
After Bill Condon’s slew of recent duds, it’s nice to see him make an improvement (albeit not a great one) with the quaint Mr. Holmes. A dazzlingly filmed and staged period drama with some effective humor and engaging mystery, it’s thanks to the central performance of Sir Ian McKellen that the movie finds its anchor, making the most out of the actor’s sensitivity and sophistication, embodying every ounce of the character’s visible physical and mental deterioration with heartbreaking effect.

***1/2 / *****


Trainwreck:
I might have been watching a different film than others did. Like other Judd Apatow movies, the film is overlong, loaded with countless diversions (Marv Albert) and awkward silences that should have been left on the cutting room floor, and its cruder elements detract from its otherwise effective dramatic beats. That being said, Amy Schumer’s tribute to Woody Allen-esque character pieces that blends her own comic sensibilities does make for a fun – albeit completely unruly – time. Standout bits come courtesy of supporting performances from Tilda Swinton and LeBron James.

**1/2 / ***** 


Wolf Totem:
A beautifully filmed, but conceptually lacking movie, the main characters of Wolf Totem leave very little in impact, and the shock and horror we’re meant to feel at every turn are very muted. The story and philosophy are interesting at points, but most of the time, it plays out like at least a dozen other movies that you’ve already seen. It’s a movie where its visuals outweigh its story and direction. It’s also quite bittersweet to hear one of the last scores of James Horner’s career.

**1/2 / *****

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