The Avengers


The summer movie season has officially arrived, heralded proudly by the amazingly awesome film that is The Avengers.

Joss Whedon has a special place in my heart as one of the most under-appreciated directors in Hollywood. Although there’s some of his work that I could pass on, most of it is tolerable to a level equal of any other TV faire, or in several cases, some of the best work I’ve seen come out of Hollywood in years. His other work includes Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Dollhouse, Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog, and my all-time favorites Firefly and Serenity. So when I heard that they were tapping Whedon to helm Marvel’s 5-year endeavor of bringing all their heroes into one unifying film, I was thrilled.  Whedon is a master at character-driven pieces, and with a strong potential for a film like The Avengers to become the equivalent of an all-you-can-eat visual effects buffet (where you know the food isn’t all that amazing, but there’s just so much variety and so much to try that you keep going back, even though you know you’ll feel awful for it later) that’s just what this film needed to keep it grounded.

To sum my thoughts up: this is the best experience I’ve had at the movies since seeing Serenity in 2005. Although I’m sure the film had its fair share of flaws, I was completely unaware of them because I was simply having too good of a time. It was filled with humor, action, and heart and even managed to bring me close to tears at one point. Never once did I consciously think about the 2.5 hour run time, which is an excellent sign.

For those that aren’t familiar with The Avengers, here’s a brief recap. A top secret government organization called S.H.I.E.L.D., under the guidance of Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson), is given the task of protecting the world from threats beyond the capabilities of normal men. In preparing for this task, they recruit the world’s greatest heroes (each of which joins the group from a pre-existing stand-alone film) – Iron Man, a.k.a Tony Stark (Robert Downey, Jr.), Captain America (Chris Evans), Thor (Chris Hemsworth), and the Hulk, a.k.a. Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo). They’re also joined by secondary characters Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner) and Black Widow (Scarlett Johannson). Together, this team must defeat Loki (Tom Hiddleston), brother of Thor, as he attempts to invade earth with an alien army and rule over mankind.  Sound action-packed? It is!

They even manage to represent all of the primary colors in their outfit choices!

Here’s where I think Whedon succeeded the most. Each of these characters is amazing in and of themselves. You have Captain America -a super solider, the perfect specimen of man, Iron Man – a genius, billionaire playboy with a high tech suit of armor, Thor – a demi-god from another realm, and the Hulk – a scientist who becomes an unstoppable wrecking ball when he gets angry — and none of them get along. Ultimately, despite all their super-human abilities, they all suffer from such basic human flaws, and THIS is the genius of Whedon (who not only directed, but rewrote the script). Whedon gives us a reason for all these people to not only come together, but work past their differences for the greater good.

The unstoppable cloud from Green Lantern, which killed the strongest Green Lantern, and fought off droves of the galaxies best defenders... but was then defeated by Ryan Reynolds because he wanted it bad enough.

The film also succeeds in finding a villain which is not too easily defeated, but also not overwhelmingly powerful and still somehow easily defeated to conveniently wrap up the storyline (see Green Lantern). This is no small feat seeing as how the combined power of the Avengers would decimate just about any opponent.

On an acting level, Downey Jr. delivers that classic wit and charm we’ve all come to love from the Iron Man films, Evans plays the out-of-his-element good soul that won us over in Captain America: The First Avenger, and Hemsworth does a great job at helping the audience take the somewhat out-of-place absurdity of a demi-god seriously.

Finally a Hulk we can cheer for, as he smashes his way into our hearts with pure, unbridled anger.

But perhaps the most noteworthy performance is that of Ruffalo, who replaced Edward Norton as Bruce Banner after the studio and Norton had a bit of a disagreement following The Incredible Hulk movie. Part of it is the writing, part of it is the effects team, but FINALLY we get to see the Hulk as we’ve always wanted to see him. Not part of some artsy “soul-behind-those-eyes” interpretation by Ang Lee, but as a man with some control over the beast, that ultimately enjoys smashing things. It’s refreshing, and at times, quite hilarious. (Two specific moments come to mind, but I won’t spoil them.)

Agent Coulson was apparently brought on board for his super human adorableness.

If I had to choose a specific favorite character of the film, I actually think I’d choose Agent Phil Coulson, played by Clark Gregg. Coulson has appeared in several of the other Marvel films, acting as a sort of character glue to bring all of the films and their characters together.  His role is much more pivotal in this film than in the others. He almost becomes a representative of the audience – an everyman amongst super-humans, with many of the same reactions we ourselves would have. I won’t spoil anything else, just expect good things from Gregg’s performance.

Again, this film was so wonderfully executed, and although it probably won’t be an Oscar contender outside of the technical categories, it is a great little piece of escapism at the movies, and an enjoyable thrill ride. Marvel did it right with their plan to establish a universe for their films to co-exist in, and with Iron Man 3 starting production this summer, Thor 2 in the fall, Captain America 2 next winter, and The Avengers 2 after that, we can expect great things in the coming years. Now if only they can work out a deal with Sony to get Spiderman in the next Avengers film. Time will tell!

My opinion, well worth the trip to the theatre to see this film as it was meant to be seen, on the big screen. Although IMAX and 3D are not necessary. (I saw it in 2D and loved it.) And be sure to stay until the end of the entire credits. Marvel sticks in their usual stinger about a minute in which sets up some element of the next film, but this time they also gave an added bonus at the very end.  In fact, the cast shot the scene immediately after the Hollywood premiere. (If you look closely you’ll notice that Evans had to wear a prosthetic piece on his face to hide the beard he’d grown out for another role.) This added bonus doesn’t really add anything pivotal, but it’s sure to leave you laughing at its pure, simple randomness.

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The Other F Word


The Other F WordIt’s not often that a documentary really gets to me on a personal level, mostly because it’s hard for me to separate the filmmaker from the film.  Take, for example, any of Michael Moore’s creations in his continual quest to sully the category of Documentary.  Behind the images and voices put on screen is a clear agenda and a deliberate manipulation of events so obviously designed to shape the perceptions of the viewer that one almost can’t help but roll his or her eyes and pass such blatant fictionalizations off as gussied-up Saturday morning cartoons.  Or Morgan Spurlock’s infamous Super Size Me, in which he outlines an indictment of McDonald’s based on the plain-as-day fact that eating too much of their food will cause an individual to gain weight.  Then there are films like “Walmart: The High Cost of Low Price” that claim to investigate a subject, when in reality they are merely pursuing one angle of a story towards a conclusion drawn well in advance.  But even when watching more benign programming such as nature documentaries or works by the venerated Ken Burns, it’s difficult for me to just sit back and learn rather than seeing the work as a presentation of information deliberately skewed in one way or another by the lens of its creator.  And so, this rather skeptical attitude makes it somewhat difficult for me to watch a documentary and really internalize what I am seeing rather than merely viewing it as a presentation of one particular viewpoint.

But when watching The Other F Word, I really did get somewhat lost in the subject matter and found myself becoming emotionally involved with the information I was consuming. Sure, like any documentary, everything here is presented from a particular viewpoint and there are myriad other stories to be told rather than the narrative that was shaped by director Andrea Blaugrund Nevins.  But the subject matter was so interesting, and the characters so compelling, that I couldn’t help but get roped in and even fascinated, at times, with what I was watching.

the-Other-F-Word-Mark-Hoppus

Mark Hoppus, watching his son plays video games as he contemplates sticking it to The Man.

After decades of sonic bombardment and near-endless touring, punk rock staples from the late 80′s and mid 90′s like Rancid, NOFX, Blink-182, The Vandals, Bad Religion, and the rest of their contemporaries are now mostly grown up.  Time, as poet Delmore Schwartz said, “is the fire in which we burn,” and as the members of these bands have aged, they have all faced the same inevitable choice: make the transition into what society would call adulthood, or continue prolonging the anarchistic days of their youth including all the trappings such a lifestyle entailed such as tattoos, piercings, counterculture apparel, disrespect for authority, and a firm adherence to the raised-middle-finger mentality so central to the punk rock ethos.  And so Nevins sets out to see what has become of these men now that many of them are parents and (gasp!) figures of authority in their own families.

The central figure here is Jim Lindberg, singer and frontman for the band Pennywise, who sets out for yet another tour with his band and leaves his wife and three daughters at home for the better part of a year.  We see him pack his suitcase, including Barbie dolls from his kids and black hair dye to mask his greying locks, and head out to do what he’s always done: play music. The contrast is shocking at first, as we see Lindberg and his bandmates on stage inviting their audience to request songs by shouting titles out but requiring that every one be augmented by a dose of vulgar profanity.  Shocking not because such is the nature of the punk rock scene, but because we first see Lindberg goofing around with his family, driving his daughters to school in a perfectly sensible midsize SUV, and participating in what is otherwise an entirely unremarkable slice of modern-day middle-class American lifestyle.

Woven through Jim’s tale are stories of several of his punk rock counterparts who have similarly navigated the turbulent waters of post-adolescent rebellion and now found themselves with families, responsibilities, and being in the somewhat ironic position of setting rules and limits for their own children.  Myriad interviews reveal grown men who are struggling to identify themselves in a society in which the angst-fueled anti-authoritarian spirit of their youth is now a prepackaged commodity, sold to teenagers in trendy mall stores like Hot Topic.  Some of the guys have clearly found ways to make the change work, and some seem like they are still treading water in a sea of retarded sexuality and bad poetry while their fellow rockers-turned-fathers have all gone home to bed.  Mark Hoppus ruminates on how his new perspective on life makes him embarrassed to sing some of his band’s racier songs.  Flea talks about how his daughters have entirely changed his outlook on life.   Fat Mike, who admits in an interview that he and his wife vowed not to change as they grew up, drives his daughter to a stuffy private school in a shiny new SUV while decked out in spiked hair and chains.  The film’s most powerful moments come from the interview segments with Duane Peters, who has clearly lost more than a few marbles in his younger days but has emerged with a new perspective on life despite losing his son in a car wreck.  The only weak point is the inclusion of Tony Hawk, the pro skater who seems to have been added to the cast more as a marketing stunt than to offer any real substance.

What is notable about this movie, though, is what it does not include.  The focus here is squarely on these aging alt-rock stars, and rarely do their wives or children get any screen time. What is it like to be the wife of an middle-aged punker? We never really find out.  Lindberg is seen talking with his family on the phone while on tour, and even setting up for a Skype video call.  But when the video feed dies Nevins focuses on Lindberg, and avoids what I assume must be rather intense frustration from his daughters who were so eager to tell their daddy about their day. It’s these moments that could have added so much to the film, and ultimately hinder it from being a truly singular look at its subject. As it stands, though, The Other F Word is still an extremely interesting and compelling film, and even made me think about the vestiges of my youth that I still carry with me and what I might need to cast off as I struggle to be a good father to my own son.

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The Hunger Games


This box office jaggernaut from another world has dulled Bella Swan’s newfound fangs, effectively pulverizing teenage angst and sketchy expectations to deliver a stateside phenomenon that can already be touted as 2012′s greatest success story at the movies.  Young teenage Katniss Everdeen’s fight to death has resonated with audiences in such a way that approaching the film with a critical eye at this point in the game feels a bit futile.

Based on Suzanne Collins’ immensely popular novel (the first in a trilogy), The Hunger Games catches us up in a nation known as Panem, a dystopian future arisen after the fall of commonplace civilization.  Human communities have been divided up into 12 districts that supply varying necessities for enduring survival.  Young Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence), a skilled teenage archer, looks after her distant mother and helpless little sister, Prim by hunting for game (illegally) in the woods with her friend Gale (Liam Hemsworth).

Gale and Katniss, unknowing lovebirds, ponder the idea of a life outside of a government oppressed society, but their conversation becomes interrupted as the community must gather for the annual reaping where two children (one boy, one girl) between the ages of 12 and 18 are selected to compete in a nationally televised fight to the death.  The kids’ names are thrown into a large bowl where they are drawn by a froofy hostess looking like the perfect companion to Johnny Depp’s Willy Wonka.  The hostess is Effie Trinkett (Elizabeth Banks) representing Panem authority for District 12.

Despite Katniss’ attempts to assuage her little sister’s fears of being selected for the games, silence rips through the crowd as Prim Everdeen’s name is drawn.  Katniss lunges forward to volunteer in her horrified sister’s place.  A second name, Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson), is chosen for the boys.  Katniss and Peeta have a shared past and rooted memories of their last interaction.  This adds to the drama of the two characters training together as partnered combatants that will eventually be forced to kill each other in a hostile arena.

A former Hunger Games champion, the drunken Haymitch (Woody Harrelson) is tasked with training the District 12 contenders.  In his limited instruction, he encourages his duo to earn the admiration of the crowd as well as wealthy sponsors that will provide assistance via gifts in the actual games.  The training and lavish experience of the capitol comprise the film’s first half leading up to Peeta and Katniss being set loose on the battlefield.

Little information is given about the status of Panem, the history of the games, and the outlook of future society.  For non-readers of Suzanne Collins’ trilogy, the audience gets dropped into the world of Katniss Everdeen without any background knowledge to go on.  In some ways I appreciated this approach, and in other ways I didn’t.  The Hunger Games was always going to be a difficult novel to adapt since most of the story is comprised of Katniss’ internal thought.  That simply can’t translate well onscreen, but considering the obstacle, Director Gary Ross (Seabiscuit) has delivered a satisfactory young-adult thriller hinging on Jennifer Lawrence’s commanding portrayal of Katniss.

It would almost be impossible to expect an excessively grim take on the story since the novel caters to a younger crowd and a rating of PG-13 was inevitable.  That, of course, holds the film adaptation back from illuminating the horror of the plot, as well as the violence which comes along with it.  Instead the film sidesteps graphic depictions of children murdering children, dulling the violence down, and steering us into Katniss’ human journey to protect her family.

Generally speaking the film is actually rather alluring and suspenseful despite the fact that this material has been played out before.  Battle Royale, The Running Man, and even Gladiator have all focused on government-sanctioned battles to the death for populous entertainment.  Hunger Games never sets its sights too high as far as examining a culture that adopts such moral imbalance as to let the government oppress such horrors on children.  You won’t believe a word or image of this science-fiction world that Collins has assembled, but you will believe in Katniss’ struggle to survive it.  The allegory here is that we already live in a mass media culture consumed by reality television giving us open doors to human misery.  The madness will likely stop short of killing for ratings and circus costumes as ‘common’ wardrobe.  At least I can only hope so.

But I must go back to Jennifer Lawrence who delivers remarkably in the lead role.  Of course all of the hoopla has been made about what a talent she is after her Oscar nomination for Winter’s Bone and her blockbuster status as the new Mystique from X-Men: First Class.  Strong female heroines come along once in a blue moon, especially in franchise form.  Lawrence brings Collins’ character to beaming light.  She’s stubborn, determined, strong, and completely family-centered.  The proposed love triangle between her, Peeta, and Gale takes a backseat to the mission at hand—survive the games, protect your family.  In fact, the movie pays little attention to all the lovey-dovey hokum to the point where even I could have used a little bit more to make that aspect of the story a tad more impacting.  Don’t expect any of the romantic fireworks or steam found in the novel.  Little of it is present here.

That doesn’t lessen this solid adaptation which Collins had a hand in supervising.  The DNA of the novel is very present here.  With impressive talent both behind the camera and in front of it, The Hunger Games is a very entertaining and very human blockbuster franchise in the making that delivers for fans and casual viewers alike. I won’t argue that Ross’s film is particularly great entertainment, but neither was the book.  In meddling with such a violent subject, the story dulls a sharpened blade, but nevertheless lends itself well to some great human drama and noteworthy suspense.  Ignore the questionable CGI dog monsters that get zapped into the arena (that fail to work in both the film and the book), and you should become thoroughly engrossed by The Hunger Games.

 

 

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The Truth Behind Ron Swanson


office-space-parks-recOne of the best shows to come out recently is NBC’s Parks and Recreation.  It tells the story of Leslie Knope, a heartbreakingly dedicated public servant who works in the Parks Department in the small town of Pawnee, Indiana (“First in Friendship, Fourth in Obesity”).  Knope’s eternal optimism and extraordinary work ethic often put her at odds with her fellow government workers, most of whom couldn’t care less about their job and simply show up to do the minimum amount of work required and collect a paycheck.  And while I enjoy the show’s take on the faux-documentary style of sitcom (think “The Office” and you’re mostly there), it’s the characters that really have me hooked.  Andy Dwyer, who embodies the phrase “Ignorance is Bliss” with everything he does; April Ludgate, the twentysomething emo girl with a heart of…well, maybe not gold, but possibly silver or at least copper; Tom Haveford, a thoroughly straight male obsessed with fashion and cologne.  But the most standout character of all is Leslie’s boss, Ron Swanson.

In fact, there has recently been something strangely familiar about Swanson.  The mustachioed alpha male has always been one of the high points of the show, but recently I have noticed that his character is eerily similar to another office-dwelling character famous for his slacker-like ambitions but doing his job just well enough to not get in trouble.  The resemblance is so striking that I believe it cannot be coincidental, and might be just one of the best gags pulled on audiences in recent memory.  And after much contemplation, research, and Tapatio-flavored Doritos, I believe I have uncovered the truth behind Mr. Swanson:  he is Peter Gibbons.

Peter-Gibbons-MotivationIf that name doesn’t ring a bell, you might not have been in the narrow demographic who spent their college years watching Office Space while guzzling Live Wire Mountain Dew and playing Halo on the original Xbox.  Office Space, directed by Beavis and Butt-Head creator Mike Judge, bombed at the box office but struck a chord with college students when it was released on video.  Its central character Peter Gibbons hates his job but does in anyway, dutifully putting in his time as a computer programmer while listening to eight different bosses drone on about mission statement.  He eventually gets so frustrated with his job that he and some co-workers (whose positions are on the chopping block) devise a plan to subtly rip off the company such that they never have to work again.  The movie comes to a close with Gibbons working his dream job shoveling dirt for a construction company while his friends drive off to their new jobs at another computer company, while their thorougly inept coworker Milton reaps the rewards of Gibbons’ grand scheme, sipping unsalted mai tais at a beachside resort.

But what happened to Peter Gibbons in the subsequent years?  And what does this have to do with Ron Swanson?  In truth, the two are one and the same.  Though more investigation is needed, my basic theory goes like this: Following the events of Office Space, Peter Gibbons quickly becomes dissilusioned with his construction worker job.  He likes the outdoor work and doesn’t mind the early mornings, but eventually the physical nature of the job becomes too much for him to handle.  After a year or so he parts ways with his fellow worker and neighbor Lawrence and realizes he needs to make a serious change in his life.  But since his only friends are his fellow workers (at this point he has long since stopped hanging out with Michael and Samir, despite Michael’s plea at the end of Office Space for the three of them to “keep in touch.”), he realizes that the best option is to essentially start over.  He moves to the small town of Pawnee, Indiana, changes his name to Ron Swanson, and gets a job doing the only thing he really knows how to do well: mid-level office work.  But in Pawnee, with its less-than-stellar business climate, the best option is government work, and sooner or later he lands a position at the Parks Department–an inconsequential segment of the local government where he can quietly exist as a paper-pusher who collects his checks and doesn’t get in the way.  But soon, his value as an employee is realized by his superiors simply because he isn’t a terrible employee.  Just as The Bobs realized that Gibbons had upper management written all over him, Swanson’s supervisors in the Pawnee government soon promote him to the level of manager.  Initially fearful of the new position, Swanson soon realizes that this job is tailor-made for someone like him, and spends the rest of his days quietly serving his time as the manager of the Pawnee Parks Department, working just hard enough to not get fired.

Allow me to explain further using the following bits of evidence.

1. Physical Appearance.

Peter Gibbons Ron Swanson

This is the most obvious, but also the least convincing, bit of evidence.  Still, it bears pointing out that both have strikingly similar features.  Along with changing his name, Gibbons also grew a mustache and started parting his hair on the other side–not much of a disguise, but then, it’s unlikely that anyone in Pawnee would recognize an inconsequential computer programmer from the Big City.  Eye color is a bit of a mystery, but I have a hypothesis that Gibbons actually wore brown contact lenses while working at Initech because he thought it would make him more attractive to the ladies (my guess is that Michael convinced him to do it). Both prefer muted earth tones and have a penchant for office-casual attire, though Gibbons clearly takes that a few steps too far when he shows up for work clad in jeans and sandals. However, this sense of rebellion is still present in Swanson, but it manifests itself in a more inward political fashion and is ultimately what leads Gibbons to adopt such extreme libertarian views as he ages.

2. Work Ethic

Peter Gibbons isn’t a bad employee, and he famously told The Bobs “it’s not that I’m lazy, it’s that I just don’t care.”  He might show up a little late, but he’s always at work even if he’s barely doing any work at all.  He even informed The Bobs that “I just stare at my desk; but it looks like I’m working….I’d say in a given week I probably only do about fifteen minutes of real, actual, work.”  Keep in mind that this kind of work ethic might be possible in an office environment (at least for a while) it would not be sustainable in a construction job.  This is why, according to my theory, Peter just doesn’t last very long on the job site with Lawrence.  But this type of do-the-bare-minimum approach is exactly how Ron Swanson goes about his daily duties, working, as Peter once said, “just hard enough to not get fired.”  And now that Gibbons (aka Swanson) is the manager, it would seem that he really has found a comfortable way to live out his days without ever really worrying about getting fired.  He hires April to be his assistant specifically so he has to do the least amount of work possible, and gives her accolades on several occasions merely because she keeps people away from him and out of his office.  Swanson has also been known to spend time at work whittling things out of wood, while his younger counterpart would simply waste time at work by playing Tetris and munching Cheetos.

ron-swanson-fishing3. Friendships

Before coming to live in Pawnee, Peter Gibbons never had much success with any type of relationship.  His closest friends Samir and Michael weren’t really his friends, but coworkers with whom he could comfortably share a table at a restaurant.  His neighbor Lawrence blatantly disrespects him, taking Peter’s beverages and using his coffee table as a footstool for his dirt-encrusted boots, much in the same way a schoolyard bully might pretend to be friends with a smart kid in order to trick him into doing his homework.  The real tragedy of Peter’s life, aside from his general lack of goals or direction, is that he really is alone.  And after moving to Pawnee, this sense of isolation only manifests itself further as Peter-turned-Ron continues to live a life devoid of any real personal connections save the superficial platonic relationships he maintains with his subordinates at the office.  Peter isn’t exactly the life of the party, and a decade later his new self Ron is equally awkward and uncomfortable in large groups of people.  Ron is most at ease when he is fishing, whittling, or in his woodshop crafting boats.  Peter is never really happy, and it’s too bad that even after starting over in Pawnee, Ron is equally unhappy–though he seems to have at least eked out a comfortable existence doing things that don’t actively make him angry.

4. Relationships

If there’s one thing Ron Swanson is not good at, it’s maintaining healthy personal relationships with women.  Married and divorced three times (twice to the same woman), his alpha-male tendencies often get in the way of the daily give-and-take of a relationship.  And even though we are not privy to many details of Peter Gibbons’ love life, we are given some important clues through his relationship with Joanna, the waitress from Tchotchke’s.  The only thing the two of them have in common is a dislike for their jobs and an affinity for kung fu movies–clearly not the foundation of a solid, healthy relationship.  And soon enough Peter’s inner demons rear their ugly heads and he ends up breaking up with Joanna due to an unfounded suspicion that she had a prior relationship with his boss Bill Lumbergh. It’s clear that Gibbons is more comfortable in front of a TV or computer than in the company of women, and this trait is clearly visible with Ron Swanson as well. Though in the years since Gibbons left his construction job he has clearly gravitated towards more outdoor activities like woodworking and fishing (instead of watching Kung Fu), his new Swanson self is just as awkward with women as his younger counterpart.  It should also be noted that Gibbons enjoys fishing, and continues to later in life after changing his name to Swanson.  Gibbons even takes Joanna out for a day on the lake during which they make several good catches, and he then returns to the office and cleans the fish right on his desk–a move that is right up Swanson’s alley.

Of course all this evidence is merely speculation and a somewhat loose connecting-of-the-dots, and there is certainly evidence to suggest that Ron Swanson is not, in fact, a grown-up Peter Gibbons.  For example, Swanson’s alter ego Duke Silver, who entertains elderly women at nightclubs with his jazz band, is clearly out of alignment with anything we learn about Peter Gibbons in Office Space.  Of course one could always suggest that Gibbons learned the saxophone in his years of soul-searching, but it’s unlikely given his lack of motivation and discipline. And the lengthy time span between Office Space and Parks and Recreation could allow for almost any possibilities, which makes this kind of speculation somewhat moot to begin with. However, I believe that with careful viewing enough parallels between the two characters emerge that certainly seem to suggest an intentional connection.

So is Ron Swanson really Peter Gibbons, all grown up but, in many ways, just as immature as ever? To answer that I will simply pose another question: is Charles Mulligan’s the best steakhouse in Indiana?

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Act of Valor


Rarely do pure-bred patriotic American films come along anymore.  The current military flicks are usually filled with destructive characters, government conspiracies, and the horrors of war—elements of a layered, involving anti-war film.  Here comes along Act of Valor, all but wrapped up in an American flag, showcasing ‘real active-duty Navy SEALs’ in fictional combat missions.  These men aren’t fighting a war they don’t believe in.  They don’t lack any trust in their government.  Almost unbelievably and contrary to every other mainstream action film, their government isn’t tooling them around under a sort of shadowy guise of sinister motivations and political coverups.  These fighting men are cut-and-dry American heroes saving the nation one mission at a time.

So how do I review this movie?  It’s completely two-dimensional, utilizing real commandos who make for minimalist actors when the booms aren’t going off.  Yet, this isn’t a documentary either.  To my complete surprise, the film actually has a standard narrative (Hollywood formula and all).  The story features a squad of SEALs deployed to rescue an abducted undercover CIA agent being held captive and tortured for information by a drug cartel kingpin, Christo.  The U.S. government takes further interest in Christo when they understand his connection with a group of extremist Islamic terrorists plotting a massive multiple-location attack on American soil.

Either action movies have gotten it all-too-right over the years, or Act of Valor screenwriter Kurt Johnstad (300) saw little value in ditching a completely formulaic plot involving drug cartels and an insurmountable terrorist threat.  I’ll be blunt here—this film isn’t about plot or characters or anything remotely related to storytelling.  This film is about showcasing Navy SEALs as elite patriotic warriors, not as actors.  Audiences will be captivated, as I was, by the reality and passion invested in the combat missions that usually emulate a real-life visceral version of Call of Duty gameplay.  Yes, if you are a 25-year-old devoted to that game, you will be enthralled by Act of Valor.  While I could have gone without some of the first-person view behind the crosshairs, and a little less shaky-cam within the action, I consistently believed in the threat that the filmmakers painstakingly portray with unabashed realism.

Non-gamers will appreciate this too.  Valor makes for a very heroic film that ultimately asks us to respect our soldiers rather than question their sanity and protest their manipulating government.  While the film struggles when the men are asked to ‘emote’ and carry dramatic weight, especially within a continual focus on two of the main soldiers, I believe its flaws are negligible in comparison to what directors Mike McCoy and Scott Waugh are trying to do and happen to do very well—give audiences the cold hard combat they came to see.

Many critics are chastising this effort as a propaganda piece more akin to a recruiting poster than an actual movie.  However, the film never sidesteps the mortal consequences of these guys’ effort to fight for American freedom.  I can’t imagine anyone so immediately inclined to join the ranks after the film’s heartbreaking closing moments.  I don’t care if this isn’t a ‘true movie’ since its efforts are meant to shed the trappings of movies and deliver an experience instead.  Forget actors.  Forget scripts.  Grab your flag and run behind enemy lines with a courageous squad of fighters.

 

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The Artist


The Artist is the first (almost completely) silent film since the 1920s to win the Oscar for Best Picture.  It is also the least likely winner to hit the mainstream circuit and find a broad audience.  I can only reiterate what many critics have already suggested: give the film a chance if you are so inclined.

Of course the film will not please everybody.  Current audiences aren’t merely satisfied with color and sound anymore.  They want loud bangs, bright fireballs, booming bass, and a pair of 3D glasses when the technology is used properly.  The Artist has neither color, nor sound—outside out a score accompanyment and a few select moments of audible dialogue.  How can a black and white silent film possibly compete in such a crowded market with the highest production bells and whistles?

In many ways, The Artist dazzles just the same as some of the biggest visual blockbusters.  Rooted in its characters, the film bellows a winning story about a 1920s silent Hollywood film actor, George Valentin (Jean Dujardin), on top of his iconic career as a swashbuckling star.  His marriage may be on the rocks, but he is on top of the world comercially.  He auditions a fair young dancer for his latest film, an instant stunner named Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo) with whom he shares a spark.

In the midst of casting for his current production, George is introduced to a new filmmaking venture—the use of sound.  He laughs at a test reel of it, believing audiences will never buy into such a gimmick.  To his horror, his world quickly comes crashing down beneath his feet.  His wife (Penelope Ann Miller) forces him out of the house.  His producers oust him from their studio claiming the times are changing to a new world of sound. 

Letting his pride take over, George decides to fund his own wilderness adventure B-film as producer, director, and star.  The film is set to open opposite the new Peppy Miller-starring romantic comedy featuring sound.  Peppy becomes an overnight sensation, skyrocketting her to the top of the A-list.  George’s silent film becomes a colassal failure crippling his finances severely.  Within moments he is practically forgotten, forced to sell all his property via auction and move into a low-rent apartment where his self-loathing and oncoming depression consume him.  Only Peppy may be able to save George from total destruction.

The Artist serves both as a love story and as a story of redemption.  George’s character allows his pride to ruin his life.  I kept wondering why George wouldn’t at least attempt a ‘talkie’ film in an effort to save his career.  That is not who he is, and it becomes clear later on why that avenue wouldn’t suit him as well.  He’s a physical performer, engaging the audience through exaggerated facial expression and a charismatic smile.  His neglecting of his wife and quest for glory from his audience become his downfall.  He’s a man left with nothing when the credits roll on his career.

I appreciated very much the relationship developed between George and Peppy.  They create a strong chemistry without the use of words and only minimal dialogue cards.  Peppy is consistently loyal to George, even when the studio turns him away and his own wife closes the door on him.  The sensational actors, Bérénice Bejo and the now Oscar-winning Jean Dujardin, are a literal joy to watch as performers.  Dujardin as the star of the film, mugs and smiles his way into our hearts initially before tragedy befalls him.  The actor’s physical emoting carries us through his journey.

I’ll admit I was resistant to the idea of a current silent film, especially one fishing for awards.  The thought of it seemed as gimmicky as 3D.  But this is an old fashioned escape in the best sense, and the medium is almost demanded considering the setting and the subject matter where it really proves worth the risk of alienating audiences.  I’m reminded of Steven Spielberg shooting Schindler’s List in black and white.  While the subject matter may be entirely on opposite ends of the spectrum, the idea behind the filmmaking technique is not.  We are literally transported to the world that Director Michel Hazanavicius wanted to take us to.

I think he took a bold risk and made a bold film that functions much the same way as Martin Scorsese’s Hugo does for movie lovers—he reminds us why we love movies.  Their history.  Their power.  The art of the medium.  The more I recollect and think back on The Artist, the more I truly appreciate it, and the more I realize I will probably appreciate it more as time goes on.  I would advise you if you are curious about The Artist, to not be turned off by the idea of it as a silent film in black and white.  Instead, focus on the world of the film and the story that it’s telling.  If you allow yourself to get swept up by it, you won’t regret it.

 

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Safe House


And now for a most novel idea in motion picture plotting: The CIA and other foreign government intelligence are corrupted by several bad bad bad agents.  These agents are so bad that they’ve killed innocent civilians to cover up their own double dealings and double crossings within these agencies.  Pure genius!

I’m hooked, right?  Right?

Enter Ryan Reynolds working for the CIA as Matt Weston, a young housekeeper of a ‘safe house’ designed for suspected terrorist interrogations.  He’s never even seen live field duty because he spends his time monitoring empty rooms while waiting for an interrogation party to come his way.  He also lives with a French lady friend who knows nothing of his secret government occupation.  Matt dreams of getting out of the watchdog business and into some real field work, but his mentor, operative David Barlow (Brendan Gleeson), instructs him to be patient.

His days of tossing tennis balls against a bare wall come to a halt when suspected double-agent Tobin Frost (Denzel Washington) finds himself captured by the American government.  These armed men attempt to torture Frost for information on his recent shady activity involving the interception of a very important flash drive.  Frost keeps hush and smiles for more abuse.

Suddenly the safe house is breached.  Cue the large shootout.  Everyone dies except for Frost and Weston.  Weston, not knowing what to do, trusts the hierarchy above him, and attempts to transport Frost to the next safe house.  Things don’t go as planned and Weston must attempt to figure out why Mr. Frost is wanted dead by so many people if he wants to stay alive himself.

As swiftly stylized and edited as Safe House can be, almost completely mimicking a Tony Scott film, writer David Guggenheim and director Daniel Espinsosa (both first-timers) find little excitement in developing a ho-hum story.  They are preaching their ‘ideas’ as though they haven’t been sitting stale in a fridge for several weeks.  Instead, Safe House best functions as a Bourne copycat, resorting to the now-standard slice-and-dice editing style that replaces the need for believable fight choreography.

Not to say that action in Safe House is bad—it’s not.  In fact, it can be particularly thrilling.  But why?  The filmmakers have given us a Denzel Washington thriller that unwisely focuses on a boring Ryan Reynolds-played character who offers nothing in the way of audience attachment.  Since he’s not remotely interesting, and his motives for ushering around Washington’s dangerous character are purely a means of furthering the narrative, we only have the great Denzel to root for.  And I’m sorry to say it, but his villain/anti-hero fence walking never had me convinced that he was anything but a hero, despite fractured motives.  I won’t even get into his age issues—as good as he still looks for late 50s, I don’t buy him snapping necks like Bourne and dodging machine gun fire from multiple assassins.  He and Liam Neeson should think about Expendables 3.

The film is also saddled with supporting actors in Vera Farmiga, Brendan Gleeson and Sam Shepherd.  These names have side-splitting talent, and wouldn’t you know they’re wasted on one-note characters?  Perhaps Gleeson gets a little more to do here, but ultimately this megawatt cast has been assembled to deliver by-the-numbers action and story that is only elevated by the fact that we have these actors that are far better than the material would have you believe.

If I’m making Safe House sound awful, I apologize.  It’s not.  Since I recognize that I’m continually veering into negative-town here, I will attest I didn’t have a bad time at the film.  It’s adequately shot, very violent, gritty, just not for any particular engaging reason.  The movie gets a pass because the actors elevate it and make it plenty watchable, even if it’s plenty forgettable.  Ignore the ads.  Safe House is plenty safe, but you won’t have a bad time.

 

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2012 Academy Awards Liveblog!


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