“I won’t bury another Wayne” – a goodbye to Nolan’s Batman trilogy

I will always be fascinated by the attempts that “nerdy” subject material will make in order to be perceived as art. Memorably, video game fans attempted to rake Roger Ebert over the coals when he claimed (rightfully) that video games will never be art. I never questioned the logic of either side, as interesting points were often presented, but I was more intrigued by why these fans were obsessed with having one of their favorite mediums be recognized as something more than mindless entertainment.

There have been untold of thoughtless news stories focusing on the ways in which comic books have grown up, with many recent ones focusing on the financial success of darker comic book films such as 2008’s “Watchmen” adaptation and Nolan’s epic Batman trilogy. That being said, I have the same view about this as I did about the aforementioned video game discussion. Did we ever really need these movies to justify comics? Did Nolan’s movies accomplish anything in the culture at large that actually needed to be done?

For me the answer will always be a definitive no. Don’t get me wrong, I vastly enjoyed all of Nolan’s films, particularly “Batman Begins” and “The Dark Knight Rises” but everyone seems to be focusing on how Nolan’s work somehow legitimized something that had been missing. I just don’t think that was the case. Nolan’s films did a great job giving people exactly what they didn’t realize they wanted: a darker, excessively mature comic book movie that made non-comics fans feel like they understood comic books.

Because I’m an extremely petty and narcissistic person, I was deeply upset when people started saying that they liked Batman after the release of “The Dark Knight.” They didn’t understand the intricacies of the conflict between the Joker and Batman like I did. They didn’t understand the complex moral and ethical chess match for the soul of Harvey Dent like I did. To me, if you didn’t understand what made the film work so well under the hood, you didn’t really have the right to enjoy it like I did.

Nolan succeeded by making the labyrinthine power structures of Gotham City into something that the layman could understand. He didn’t dumb anything down, rather he introduced easily digestible nuggets of world-building that enabled anyone to understand the motivations of all the characters that made “The Dark Knight” work. People didn’t leave loving the film for what it was. They left thinking they had seen a movie that let them feel like they had it all figured out. “The Dark Knight” let viewers feel like they had just passed a test they didn’t study for.

In hindsight, I’m glad that people ended up liking Batman from “The Dark Knight.” I still think it may be the least satisfying and necessary film in the trilogy but it accomplished a very necessary end. Nolan was able to make a superhero film that used neither the structure nor the formulas of other films and was able to do something unique. It was an admirable work and an innovative one and it paved the way for the ambition of “The Dark Knight Rises” (which I will not be reviewing as to avoid spoilers).

Nolan excelled at making a trilogy of films that made its nerdy viewers feel like researchers and neophytes feel like experts. All the while, he was able to craft a brooding series focused on fear that never was bogged down into misery or undo complications. Its an admirable effort, one DC needed to learn. That being said, I still have concerns for his next work “The Man of Steel” which appears as if it could be attempting the same self-serious tone that the Batman films effortlessly attained. Hopefully, Nolan will be able to help director Zach Snyder make something that dodges the problems their other films have had. And hopefully, not feature too many slow motion bone crunches.

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No power, no responsibilities: “Amazing Spider-Man” is an engaging, occasionally thrilling super-powered failure

The one advantage that film will always have over comics is giving characters the visceral thrill of movement. With someone like Spider-Man, that lets viewers enjoy the thrill of watching someone fly through the air, slide across the ground and use the force of momentum to his constant advantage. Its exhilarating, visually interesting and thrilling to simply watch movement.

It is in these moments that “Amazing Spider-Man” makes a case for its’ own existence. Looking back on Sam Raimi’s films, the special effects haven’t aged particularly well and it was filmed more as an homage to the comics and pulp action than as a film that was meant to thrill with stunts. “Amazing Spider-Man” does a great job of bringing this energy back to the franchise but it loses all that momentum as Andrew Garfield struggles through lines, director Mark Webb directs without style or panache and the story struggles with telling anything that viewers haven’t heard before.

My biggest problem with the whole thing was that need to do the origin story again. Peter Parker’s transformation from nerdy kid to super-powered defender of New York City might as well be ingrained into our American mythos. Webb doesn’t do a lot new with it, playing Pete’s transformation mostly for laughs but he does brilliantly change the death of Uncle Ben to tie more closely to Peter than to Spider-Man, making Pete’s choices, personally and behind the mask, more defined by Ben’s death. Martin Sheen does a great job as Uncle Ben but he isn’t given a ton of screen time to make an impression.

And that’s really strange for a movie that drags over the two-hour mark without any real reason. The origin story takes over an hour to set up and it forces us to race through a disjointed plot by scientist Curt Connors, a not particularly deep antagonist from Dennis Leary’s Captain Stacy and the romantic subplot with Gwen, played by Emma Stone. No one really makes a huge impression and the generic plot doesn’t connect too well.

There are the building blocks of something that could make future installments more engaging. Webb makes the odd decision of keeping the fate of Pete’s parents a secret, tying it into Connor’s work at OsCorp. It is a strange move and Webb does little to make it one that we should care about. That’s a shame because the rest of the mysteries of the mysteries of the corporation are super engaging. The specter of Norman Osbourne looms over the film, both in the lobby of his building as well as in constant lines of dialogue. If Spider-Man’s greatest enemy is to show up before the series ends, he’s already had a great sense of mystery built up around him.

This lack of connection is what makes the movie’s exhilarating action sequences less memorable than they should be. Webb uses great tracking shots and close angles so that we can see every move Spider-Man makes as he zips and darts around his enemies but if we don’t care about the character or the people he’s fighting, then why does it matter?

It is clear that Webb was given the unenviable job of setting up a new franchise so that Sony could continue to hold onto the Spider-Man license for as long as possible. As such, he’s stuck having to keep Peter Parker in a very narrow world as well as having to keep the audience’s mind as far away from the unfairly maligned “Spider-Man 3” as possible. That’s why the film seems so narrow, so aimless and at times, so downright dull. Hopefully, like the superb “Spider-Man 2,” the inevitable sequel to this film will be able to build off the formidable base in order to craft a franchise that can not only keep the money coming in, but also keep fans interested.

Stoning the Blair Witch: How “Chernobyl Diaries” mercy kills the found footage genre

For me, there are a couple of golden rules for watching and writing about movies. The first: disregard the premise. Before even stepping into a theater, its important to not really consider what you’re going into. Before the release of Ang Lee’s masterpiece, “Brokeback Mountain,” all anyone knew was that it was the picture about the gay cowboys starring two guys who were mostly known for appearing in cult teen films. It wasn’t a high pedigree. Seeing that movie in theaters was one of the most important moments in my development as a fan and film buff. It was all about seeing something that defied expectations, something that was the pure, crystalized result of one man’s hopes and expectations. I don’t think its a perfect movie but its a wildly ambitious and successful picture.

The second rule and the only rule that can make the first rule moot, is to suspend your disbelief. Recently, one of the ways in which film criticism has been watered down for the masses has been in turning the act solely into the practice of picking apart inaccuracies in films. Its nauseating and worse, its everywhere. The problem with thinking about movies like this is that it takes people out of the movie, making them think in a meta-textual fashion about film and critiquing them on forces that exist outside of the original work.

Now, granted suspending disbelief only goes so far. If a movie goes so far in forcing the viewer to go along with it that things no longer make sense within the context of the film, it is fair to critique it. Traditionally, people have said that changing one universal rule for a movie is as much as people can go with. For example, in “Star Wars,” there’s the force, an all powerful magical energy that can alter physics. Seems fair. Compare that to “Stardust” (the movie, not the considerably better book), which combines, elements of Renaissance style meets steampunk, meets high fantasy at a fairly rapid pace and expects that viewers should hang onto every second of it.

It also includes Robert De Niro at his Tim Curry-est.

I’ve sen a lot of shitty movies by ignoring the ridiculousness of a movie’s premise or the way in which the premise is perceived. I’ve sat through a lot of horror and fantasy movies because I’m able to suspend my disbelief. Its rare that I am unable to do both of those and its even rarer that being unable to do these things makes me unable to view a movie for even the fleeting feelings it is attempting to impart. “Chernobyl Diaries” was one of these movies.

Directed by first timer Bradley Parker and produced by found-footage horror big shot Oren Peli, of the “Paranormal Activity” franchise, “Chernobyl Diaries” sort of reeks of a cash grab, the way so goddamn many TV shows use Stephen Spielberg as a way to give a shred of legitimacy to their bullshit. “Chernobyl Diaries” does this every step of the way, whether its embracing the found footage angle before abandoning it 5 minutes in, using generic everyman protagonists in an attempt to create viewer surrogates, trying to use silence or flickers of movement to raise tension and the use of fuzzy and heavily distorted images to convey differing points of view, this is a knockoff if there’s ever been one.

The thing is, it never works. At all. The hold that the “Paranormal Activity” films have been able to have on the culture is the ability to make your own house seem scary. The story of a pair of girls that are haunted by an awesomely powerful demonic presence is there to do little more than to make your computer, your kitchen, your chairs and your fans into nightmare fuel.

This is impossible to do in an environment that a viewer doesn’t already know. All of the Oren Peli films released so far have focused on the home, whether its the demonic presence in suburbia in the “Paranormal Activity” films or the intrusion of the astral plane in “Insidious,” he horrifies us by what we know and can’t control. I’m not saying that all of his movies are successful (I think that the second “Paranormal Activity” is pretty schlocky but I digress) but the premise alone is able to speak to everyone that lives anywhere.

“Chernobyl Diaries” fails to do this from minute one. We’re off to Europe! We’re in Paris! We’re in London! We’re in Kiev! By the time we even get to the fallout zone, we haven’t had anytime to figure out what “normal” is. Instead, Parker and Peli go the “Hostel” route, attempting to make Europe into a frightening and strange place with all of the lawlessness we’re not used to as Westerners. They do this with a group of horny teenagers and a russian guy who doesn’t speak great English.

Are you shitting your pants yet?

[SPOILERS FROM HERE ON OUT, IT SHOULDN’T REALLY MATTER BECAUSE THIS MOVIE IS FUCKING WRETCHED AND I’M TRYING TO SAVE YOU SOME MONEY]

Where we go from there is little but depression porn. The group of wide-eyed douchey American tourists, led by Jesse McCartney in massive What-The-Fuck-casting, and a pair of horribly developed Icelanders take all gawk at nuked out buildings, stray trash and all the animals you can shake a stick at.

I was fighting back suspension of disbelief already at this point. In an episode of “Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations,” the chef goes to the city of Pripayat, where the first two acts of the movie take place, and is told repeatedly not to touch anything or walk on the grass, as the area is still highly irradiated. Yet, the tourists walk all over the place, pick stuff up and are told that by only staying a few hours in the town, they’re not going to suffer radiation poisoning.

I got over it. I dealt with the fact that lasers, missiles and escape pods wouldn’t make noise in space the vacuum of space in “Star Trek,” “Star Wars” or “Battlestar Galactica.” I can deal with scientific inaccuracies. I swallowed back bile and knowledge and dealt with it. As the group bunkered down in the car, I dealt with the fact that someone cut the wires because sure, why the fuck not. Its advancing the story, I’m not terribly distracted by it and hey its a cliche because it kind of works.

I was having to make these logical steps every couple of minutes. Of course Yuri dropped his walkie-talkie but not his gun, of course the clip fell in a different room than the gun, of course the people who were looking for a way out of the city would give the gun to the invalid country singer and his clingy girlfriend, of course the survivors would find the gun in the remains of a thoroughly destroyed and flipped van. You can only do this for so long but I’ve honed my skills. As I’ve said before, I kind of like “Star Wars: Episode I.”

I know I’ve been going on for over a thousand words now but its really time now to explain how the movie looks. In an attempt to tie his film in with the successful “Paranormal Activity” franchise, Parker deliberately apes the filming style, integrating shake and following cam into the film. Its very strange and for the first 20 minutes or so, I assumed there was another character that we hadn’t met following the characters around. There wasn’t.

I tried a second theory, that Parker was attempting to use hand cam in the same way it was used in the “Bourne” trilogy, maximizing the intensity, brutality and closeness of the melee combat. That even doesn’t make sense. In the scene where Yuri and Chris go out to see what the scream was, the camera lingers inside the car and all we see are the muzzle flashes of the gun going off. Again, when everyone’s trapped in the van after the engine wires are cut, the camera walks around the van from the outside, as if we’re supposed to be viewing a POV shot of someone watching the vehicle. What makes this worse is that its done in hand cam and the view bobbles as the cameraman walks. Its distracting and it takes us away from the theory that we’re using this visual style to increase tension or intensity.

So, the hand cam is just there to be an attempt to capitalize on the success of another film franchise. Great, really great. As I’ve said, it doesn’t make the film any more watchable and things get worse in the final act when the monsters finally show up. As the remaining survivors scramble through the concrete jungle, avoiding the mutant zombies, the camera shakes, the atmospheric sounds virtually disappear and nothing makes the situation suspenseful, particularly Parker’s steadfast decision to never make us care about the monsters. When we don’t care about the monsters, we’re not interested in the fact that he refuses to show them clearly.

Think about the way in which “The Blair Witch Project” handled this. We don’t ever see the horrors that the team faces but all we want to do is view it clearly. The fact that we watch as the characters lose control of the situation more and more binds us to the plot of the film. The final sequence, as the house is stormed all the way to the horrifying finale is done so that we’re obsessed with how the characters will survive or what the answers we’re looking to are. “Chernobyl Diaries” didn’t give us a reason to care about the monster, mostly because they don’t appear until we’re supposed to be scared of them and we never know anything about what they’re capable of, and it gives us even less of a reason to care about the characters.

The final act devolves into a fairly typical zombie film. The group flees rooms from the growing hoard, barricading doors along the way, trying to rescue their friends. Its dull as hell until a single scene that finally ruined my ability to follow along with the plot. I could make it through the shitty filmmaking choices, the dull characters and the inane plot, but one 30 second sequence lost me forever.

After making it deep into the city, the group stares at Amanda’s camera, trying to see an oddity in one of the pictures when the camera shows a little girl standing away from them. Well that’s odd, I think. Is that girl a reference to the baby doll found earlier and featured prominently in the trailer? Regardless, the group approaches her, leaving Natalie behind. As they close in on the girl, Natalie screams and is gone. When the group turns, the little girl disappears.

Alright, fair enough, a pretty typical distraction scare but take a second to actually think about it. From what we’ve seen of the mutant zombies, they mostly shamble and bite things and don’t seem to think independently. We’ve seen nothing but adult mutant zombies up to this point too, so she feels particularly out of place. So, the other option is that the girl is a ghost, maybe the apparition that Amanda saw in the window. That seems to throw the whole thing off, giving us too much to consider if we want to remain in the realm of the purely real and forcing us to suspend at least some of our precious disbelief. Maybe then, just maybe, the girl could be a hallucination brought on by the groups’ increasing levels of radiation poisoning. That’d be a pretty neat twist, so let’s check in on the symptoms of radiation poisoning. Uh, here we go. So, not a single of the many symptoms of radiation poisoning includes hallucinations. With all options explored within and without the film, there’s no chance that this scene has any chance of happening logically.

I was done by this point and there was still far too much to go (12 minutes or so. Like I said, it was really bad). The final two eventually make it out to find themselves near the reactor, where they enter the much better maintained hallways and finally begin suffering the effects of radiation poisoning. Eventually, they make their way out, where Paul is shot by the military and, for no real reason, Amanda is taken to a facility where she’s fed to the mutant zombies by the government. It makes no fucking sense but I was far too exhausted at that point to even think about it.

[SPOILERS END HERE. ENJOY THIS FINAL PARAGRAPH]

Whether its destroying the sense of belief that is intrinsic to the found footage genre, failing to make us believe in any of the threats or care about the characters or giving us far too many factual inaccuracies and problems at a basic level that its hard to want to dig into the premise, “Chernobyl Diaries” is all of the problems of the found footage and horror genre rolled into one. Its a resounding failure and one with the capacity to make Peli a much less bankable name than he once was. Making things even worse, Peli’s next two films (not counting “Paranormal Activity 4”) all use the same fish-out-of-water premise that ruined “Chernobyl Diaries” from the beginning. With the man who has been recognized as the face of the genre showing all of the potential to ruin it, there can’t be much hope of more of this style in the future.

From catchphrases to kingdoms: A review of “The Dictator” with an eye on cinema history

Sasha Baron Cohen has, in a way, become one of the most recognizable names in comedy, right next to Judd Apatow, Paul Feig and Todd Phillips. Going from “Da Ali G Show” to the generation defining “Borat” and the less successful and memorable “Bruno,” Cohen defined the confrontational, single camera, in your face stylings that would go onto help to define the single camera sitcom, found footage films and reality television inspired media of all sorts.

“The Dictator” is his first shot at really creating a fully constructed, scripted and self coherent film without depending on the reactions of unwitting pseudo-extras. In my eyes, it was a necessary evil. What people remember the most about “Borat” was watching people rapidly make a fool out of themselves when faced with a camera and a foreigner. We weren’t laughing at the camera, we were laughing at our own unfettered national id.

Cohen didn’t quite have the same ability to do that in a scripted film. He can’t depend on characters who were little more tha a reflection of established stereotypes and norms. He would have to create a world for them to occupy and other characters to react off of them.

“The Dictator” tries desperately to do this, often to little success. While Cohen’s creation, the depraved Gaddafi stand in, Admiral General Aladeen is an ingenious character, someone the audience always wants to hear more from as he tastelessly goes through the motions of slaughtering his underlings, hiring and firing body doubles and callously insulting every race he comes across. He’s a buffoonish idiot savant, another character in the Groucho Marxian tradition who thinks he’s the smartest guy in the room, only to be trounced again and again by his own baffling ignorance.

“The Dictators” borrows much from the Marx Brothers’ “Duck Soup” and even more from Kubrick’s “Dr. Strangelove,” both following foolish men who cling to the disastrous power that they couldn’t possibly be qualified to wield. That being said, “The Dictator” is nowhere near as ambitious or funny as the aforementioned films. Unlike the Marx Brothers, Cohen is interested in creating something of a searing criticism of democracy and foreign economic interests and unlike Kubrick, he’s not quite smart enough to balance the comedy and satire. “The Dictator” throws a lot at the screen at once, hoping that the low brow hits just as hard and as often as the only slightly more informed political jokes.

By no means is Cohen aiming for a satire of “In The Loop” or the more recent “Veep” style seriousness. His wheelhouse has always been in near cartoonish antics mixed with damn-near-vaudeville-minstrelsy levels of ironic self distancing racism. All of Cohen’s movies have fallen into a genre I hope to further define called Smart-Movies-For-Dumb-People, the main members of which are “Fight Club,” “Freddy Got Fingered” and every Christopher Nolan movie that isn’t “Following” or “Batman Begins”. These are the kind of movies that people like because they feel smart for understanding them. The films are usually just challenging enough that nearly everyone walks away from them understanding exactly what they need to and are visually compelling enough to attract a mass audience. I’m not saying these movies are bad, I’m just saying that their aims are never for art or directorial finesse. They’re just strictly commercial products and many of them succeed as such.

And that’s the real problem with “The Dictator.” When it isn’t including scenes of Cohen shitting on women, smashing his penis against windows, milking women like they’re cows or arrogantly and hilariously insulting everyone he comes across, he’s making ham fisted political jokes about how America may as well be a dictatorship and that democracy is uniquely flawed. It’s a formulaic crowd pleaser that never strays to far from what audiences expect, even if it meets those often chuckle worthy expectations.