Star Trek

This review isn’t exactly timely, as Star Trek was released in theatres over six months ago, but having just watched it for the fifth time (four times in the theatre, once at a friend’s house a few nights ago), I think it’s high time we had a writeup of one of the best science fiction movies in years here on Walking Taco.

My history with Star Trek dates back nearly twenty years: the first episode I remember seeing was Final Mission, with my cousins Jason and Nathan at their home in Saint Louis when I was only about ten years ago.  Since that young age I have been hooked on Star Trek, not just for its portrayal of science fiction, but for the characters.  The genius of Gene Roddenberry’s creation lies not in fantastic tales of starships exploring the galaxy, but in using that backdrop as a canvas to paint a tapestry of human interactions and as a way of exploring the human condition in 45-minute chunks every week.  Several spinoffs and ten movies later, it’s this core strength of Star Trek that keeps it relevant in a world where many of the futuristic gadgets and fiction elements of the series are now most decidedly fact.

Part of Star Trek movie lore is that the even-numbered movies are generally the best:  Wrath of Khan, The Voyage Home, Undiscovered Country, and First Contact are the better of the celluloid-based incarnations of the series.  The cycle was broken…no, entirely blown away, with Star Trek Nemesis, though, a film that debuted at #2 on its opening weekend, next to Maid in Manhattan.  Yes, any time a movie series opens below a Jennifer Lopez movie, you know there’s trouble.  And so the series stagnated, and after seven years it was time for a reboot–not only of the franchise, but of the entire Star Trek timeline as a whole.  Star Trek (no subtitle this time, folks) is a reinvention of the franchise that turns everything we know about Trek on its head, while staying true to the core concepts so deeply rooted in Roddenberry’s original series in such a way that most of the newer TV spinoffs and movies have never even done.  It makes Star Trek relevant again, and updates the series for a new generation of youngsters raised on the science fiction movies and TV shows that have cropped up in the wake of Star Trek, but unaware of how amazing the source material, when peeled back to its basic fundamentals, can truly be.

Spock and Kirk, reimagined for a new generation of moviegoers.

Spock and Kirk, reimagined for a new generation of moviegoers.

The movie, directed by J.J. Abrams, begins aboard the U.S.S. Kelvin, a starship out exploring during the early days of Starfleet.  Upon investigating what is described as a lightning storm in outer space, the crew realized it’s actually a black hole-type of anomaly with a giant ship emerging from it.  The commander of the ship orders the captain of the Kelvin to come over for a chat, which leaves George Kirk in charge of the Kelvin.  Shortly thereafter, the captain of the Kelvin is killed, a battle ensues, everyone abandons ship including Kirk’s pregnant wife who has just gone into labor.  But wouldn’t you know it, Kirk is the only one who can fend off the incoming torpedoes long enough to provide an escape for the exiting shuttlecraft.  Sure enough, Kirk ends up sacrificing his life for his crew, but gets just enough time to go over baby names with his wife before he kicks the bucket.  And yes, their son, born amidst the chaos of a space battle, grows up to become the famous James T. Kirk we all know and love.

Right away the movie deviates from established canon of the series, as any Star Trek fan knows Captain Kirk was born in Iowa and knew his father rather well–a fact that is actually acknowledged by the movie at one point.  But the appearance of the mysterious spaceship (which, we find out, came back from the future to prevent a planetwide catastrophe) serves to alter the history of Star Trek lore altogether.  This genius move by Abrams and co. allows them to have near-total creative freedom within the Star Trek universe–no longer constrained by what *should* happen, according to the hundreds of hours of existing Star Trek TV shows and movies, they are free to have the characters we know and love do anything they want to.  And yet Abrams

Simon Pegg does an excellent job as Scotty, the ever-frazzled chief engineer.

Simon Pegg does an excellent job as Scotty, the ever-frazzled chief engineer.

plays this mechanic with a very even hand, not having the familiar characters deviate from their expected norms, but at the same time crafting a Kirk, Spock, Uhura, and the rest of the bridge crew, who are familiar and brand new at the same time.  In fact, the actors do an amazing job of inhabiting their characters throughout the movie, especially Zachary Quinto in the role of Spock.  His every nuance is so dead-on that it’s almost as if Leonard Nimoy himself were playing the role, and when Quinto’s Spock meets up with Nimoy’s Spock at the end of the movie, it is as if we really are watching the exact same character, to the point that it hardly even seems like two different actors.

The plot is outlandish and far-fetched, but fits the tone of the movie perfectly.  Planets are destroyed, armadas are locked in combat, ships explode, people are chased by giant monsters, and in the middle of it all are two time-traveling spaceships whose existence changes the entire fabric of the universe.  And even after watching the movie five times, I am still amazed at how much action there is.  Hardly a minute goes by when there’s not a fistfight, firefight, spaceship battle, or black hole sucking in everything in its path.  But at its core, the movie is not about action, explosions, or spaceships:  it’s about a young man coming face to face with his own destiny.  It’s a retelling of the Hero Myth we have heard time and time again from infancy–a myth that is forever immortalized by Luke Skywalker staring at the twin suns of Tattoine as he contemplates what the future holds.  Indeed, Star Trek even acknowledges this with young Kirk gazing at the Enterprise while it is still under construction, pondering what lies ahead for him.  My only thought now is what lies ahead for the series, and this movie leaves me with more hope and excitement for Star Trek than I have had in quite some time.

Rating: [Rating:5/5]

Batman: Mask of the Phantasm

I really liked Batman: The Animated Series when I was growing up.  It was a cartoon that dealt with some very weighty subjects, was not often played for simple laughs, and pushed the limits of what could be seen on afternoon network TV in terms of violence and thematic material.  But woe to the concerned parent who confuses violence with bloodiness, as the animated bullets were rarely the cause of death, and Batman himself was never one to go around shooting people or even killing his enemies.  In fact, the show was more of a morality play than anything else, and certainly dealt with mature life-and-death themes than anything else on TV at the time (think Power Rangers and Animaniacs).  But despite my affinity for the Animated Series, I never got around to watching the bigscreen incarnation of the show until just this past week.

From what I could tell before watching Phantasm, it was set to offer more of what made the Animated Series so great:  weighty subjects, conflicted heroes, and a world that was far more grey than black-and-white in terms of the good guy/bad guy vignettes that played out in similar TV shows and movies.  And while the movie does have these elements, it is also lacking in the sort of grandiose presentation and storyline that I had hoped from a cinematic adaptation of such rich source material.

The story purports to be multi-layered, and in some ways it is, but again, not as much as I suspected it might be.  Batman is once again fighting villains, both internal and external, and faces off against one of his longest-running foes as well as a new one, the Phantasm referenced in the title.  Local underworld bosses and masters of organized crime leaders are being offed by the Phantasm, a shadowy ghostlike figure impervious to bullets with the ability to appear and disappear at will.

The Phantasm.  Has Batman met his match?  Tune in next week...same bat-time, same bat-channel!

The Phantasm. Has Batman met his match? Tune in next week...same bat-time, same bat-channel!

Trouble is, the public is led to believe that Batman is the one doing the killings, and even good ol’ Commissioner Gordon finally turns on our intrepid hero.  Bruce Wayne, meanwhile, is reintroduced to his old flame Andrea, the woman to whom he was once engaged before beginning his days of crimefighting.  This type of relationship, the genesis of which is told through a series of flashbacks, is endemic to the series as a whole, as it presents serious themes of desire, longing, and the chasm between reality and the carrot that is perpetually just out of reach not only for Bruce Wayne but for many of us as well.  The one thing that will bring the most happiness to Wayne is the one thing he can’t have, and this realization is what leads him to ultimately shut himself off from the real world, and real relationships, and take on a secret identity of reclusive crimefighter.

Origin stories are nothing new to theatrical adaptations like this, and I appreciate that instead of seeing another recap of how Bruce Wayne’s parents were murdered, we see what is essentially the cliffs notes version of Batman: The Teenage Angst Years.  Seeing Andrea again brings all these long-buried questions back to the surface for Wayne, and it casts Batman in a different light that I find particularly refreshing and altogether human.

However, the creators bring the ever-present Joker into the mix, at which point the storyline devolves into a more-or-less typical after school Batman episode.  Joker is once again running amok in the city but this time the mysterious Phantasm is also trying to thwart his criminal exploits.

Bruce Waynes old flame, Andrea Beaumont.  But is there more to her than meets the eye?  Hmm...

Bruce Wayne's old flame, Andrea Beaumont. But is there more to her than meets the eye? Hmm...

The identity of the Phantasm is thus another layer to the plot, but it’s not too hard to figure out and the reveal is somewhat of a predictable letdown.  In fact, the climax of the movie has a girl in distress whose only hope is to be saved by Batman.  Holy déjà vu!

While I appreciate the effort to flesh out some of the Bruce Wayne/Batman persona, I wish this movie wouldn’t have fallen back on some of the tried-and-true tricks of the trade.  I also find the (forgive the expression) cartoonish lack of explanations for various elements frustrating.  The Phantasm is, of course, a real person and not a ghost (anyone who’s ever seen an episode of Scooby Doo will know this immediately) but their (and I use the improper plural pronoun on purpose) ability to absorb bullets and disappear in a puff of smoke is never explained.  The ending chase/rescue is a bit much to take even by cartoon standards.  On a side note, however, it was nice to hear Mark Hamill back at his blood-curdling evil-villain-laughter best once again.  :)  All in all the movie is decent entertainment, but not as good as it could have been given its wonderfully brilliant pedigree.

Rating: [Rating:3/5]

American Movie

The first time I saw American Movie was sort of like the first time I saw This Is Spinal Tap.  I didn’t get it.  I didn’t see the humor, I didn’t understand the point, and I was just plain ol’ bored.  I remember renting it with my brother Andy and cousin Jeremy clear back in high school and after an hour or so we gave up and watched Terminator instead.  And for a while I thought nothing of it, but noticed that American Movie would show up on various “Top Movies” lists put out by various print and online publications from time to time.  I found this curious, but little more, and it wasn’t until I stumbled across Rotten Tomatoe’s 50 Movies for 50 States list that I decided to give American Movie another try.  Was it worth it?  Yes and no.

Ostensibly, American Movie is a documentary that chronicles would-be director (and beer-swilling Wisconsin thoroughbred) Mark Borchardt as he struggles to complete his horror film Northwestern.  Due to a severe lack of funds, though, Borchardt decides to finish another film he had been working on called Coven instead.  His plan is to sell 3,000 copies of Coven, at $14.95 each, which would give him enough financial wherewithal to accomplish his goal of completing Northwestern.  Documentarian Chris Smith thus follows the filming of Coven for over three years, and in doing so, creates what is essentially a Spinal Tap for low-budget indie flicks (one of the jokes being that American Movie is itself a low-budget indie flick).

Mark Borchardt and Mike Schank, the dynamic duo of Milwaukee filmmaking

Mark Borchardt and Mike Schank, the dynamic duo of Milwaukee filmmaking

The hero, or perhaps simply the protagonist, of American Movie is Borchardt, a guy in his upper 20’s with a dream of becoming a filmmaker.  He has almost no means by which to accomplish his dream, though, and instead whiles away his days by drifting from one odd job to another (one day he’s delivering papers, the next he’s a cemetery custodian), occasionally parenting his children, trying to make a relationship with his girlfriend work, and also get in some shots for Coven.  Helping him out is his longtime friend and movie-making buddy Mike, a burnout with a penchant for playing the guitar and barely enough motivation to even get out of bed in the morning.  Rounding things out is Mike’s uncle Bill, a miserly, crotchety, bitingly sarcastic retiree who lends money to Mark even though he’s not entirely sure why.

No one can fault Borchardt for a lack of vision, though, and despite all common sense he dutifully forges ahead with the filming of Coven, oblivious to a fault to just how badly the odds are stacked against him.  He has grand visions of what he wants to accomplish, but things never seem to work out quite right.  Actors (read: locals who responded to “casting call” flyers in grocery store windows) don’t show up for filming, equipment breaks down, footage is lost, and money is virtually nonexistent.  Nevertheless, Borchardt continually forges ahead with Coven, often at the expense of family and friends, not to mention a relationship with his own children.

The cynical, sarcastic, and profoundly hilarious Uncle Bill

The cynical, sarcastic, and profoundly hilarious Uncle Bill

And this is where American Movie becomes more than a simple documentary about a guy who wants to make a movie.  It’s a deeply profound insight into the plight of the American Dream as it exists today.  Beneath that is also an indictment of the grade-school creedo that you can accomplish anything you put your mind to.  Borchardt has to face the harsh realities that span the gulf between dream and realization, but one thing that stands in his way more than anything else is his refusal to take stock of his situation and realize that he could possibly change things if he wanted to.  Better planning, a clearer line of communication between him and his (albeit somewhat limited) support staff, some community college courses in film production…any number of things could have been done by this aspiring director to lift himself, and his projects, to the heights he dreams for them.  He really does want to make movies, and he really does set his mind to it, but he seems condemned to wander the path of mediocrity.

But something about Borchard’s story is very interesting, engrossing, and often flat-out entertaining.  Watching him interact with Uncle Bill is often downright hilarious, and one priceless scene involves Borchardt trying to get his uncle to say what is supposed to be the opening line of the movie–a very simple recording process that just doesn’t quite work out.  Another highlight of the film is a scene in which a man’s head is shoved through a cabinet.  Borchard knows what he wants to happen, but he and his “crew” just can’t get it right:  the cabinet door doesn’t break like it’s supposed to, the cameras aren’t positioned correctly, and when they finally get the man’s head through, he is seriously injured and lays on the floor bleeding.  A microcosm of the movie as a whole, really, that also showcases Borchard’s odd sort of dedication to his craft:  he is so concerned with wanting to be a good director that he doesn’t just be a director.  Smith also includes a host of clips from interviews with Borchard’s family, friends, and people around town who have heard of him through the grapevine.  In the end we get a very intimate portrait of a dedicated but somewhat misguided man (his fumbling camerawork often comes at the expense of even having a good relationship with his children), and yet, we are never asked to gawk like distracted commuters passing an interstate accident.  We are instead shown the portrait of a man with myriad personal faults who chases his cinematic windmills with such aplomb that it’s perhaps even a bit inspiring.

And so I leave American Movie with some confused semi-admiration for its subject, wondering if I witnessed something deeply profound, profoundly sad, or confoundingly entertaining.  Maybe in another ten years I’ll give it another shot and see what happens.

Rating: [Rating:3.5/5]

War of the Worlds (Video Review)

Rating: [Rating:4/5]

Star Trek Enterprise: Season 3

It’s been a long haul for the Star Trek series.

The crew returns for another season of outer space escapades.

The crew returns for another season of outer space escapades.

The first incarnation of Star Trek, though its opening credits had a voiceover with William Shatner extolling the “five-year mission” of the ship, only lasted three seasons.  The first Star Trek movie barely made it off the ground, so to speak, but was popular enough to spawn a multitude of sequels (some of questionable quality).  Star Trek: The Next Generation revitalized the ailing franchise, though, and became the most popular syndicated television show of its time.  Its spinoffs, devoid of the imagination and human insight of Trek creator Gene Roddenberry, foundered in concepts as well as ratings.  Deep Space Nine and Voyager were interesting, the former being much better in its twilight years than many people give it credit for, but too often relied on tired clichés and political wranglings set in motion by Jean-Luc Picard and company.

Enterprise aimed to reboot the series in the minds of fans as well as the general public, and spent its first two seasons adrift in a sea of high-minded but poorly-executed storylines that tried to capture the outrageously science fiction, yet uniquely human, essence of the original show.  Mediocre conflicts with Souliban, Vulcan, Klingon, and numerous other alien species, a smattering of half-baked character backstories, and a few ship-in-peril episodes thrown in for good measure, weren’t enough to raise the show to more than a mere curiosity for most Trek fans, and a last-resort DVR viewing for everyone else.

With season 3 of Enterprise, the creators must have smelled a bit of lemon on their hands, as they threw everything from the first two seasons to the wind and launched the ship, and the series, in a whole new direction (literally and figuratively) while setting up an Earth-in-peril plotline of epic proportions that spanned the entire season.  And while I applaud the minds behind the show for trying something new and different (effectively going for a fouth-down conversion on Enterprise’s own 10-yard line), the end result is another just-beyond-mediocre chapter of a show that once carried so much promise.

Xindi come in five flavors, two of which are named Insectoid and Aquatic. Can you guess which is which?

Xindi come in five flavors, two of which are named "Insectoid" and "Aquatic." Can you guess which is which?

The season begins with earth being attacked by an entirely heretofore unknown race called the Xindi.  A small probe burns a wide channel in Earth’s crust from Florida down to Argentina, killing 7 million people in the process.  Enterprise, having arrived back on Earth at the end of Season 2, is sent into the also heretofore unknown region of space called the Delphic Expanse–a stellar Bermuda Triangle of sorts from which no Vulcan ship has ever come back intact–to investigate the probe’s origins and stop any further destruction.

We soon find out that the probe was sent by the Xindi because they believe earth is going to be responsible for destroying their planet at some point in the future.  As such, all five species of Xindi band together to plan a pre-emptive strike against the humans, and ultimately ensure their own survival by constructing a giant circular weapon to blow up our planet.  The probe, you see, was merely a foretaste of the Xindi feast to come.

It’s clear that Rick Berman and Brannon Braga, the minds behind this as well as much of the other Trek spinoffs, had lofty goals in mind here.  And I appreciate the epic nature of what they are trying to do:  send Enterprise on a thousand-to-one-odds mission, into an uncharted region of space, to stop the planet from being annihilated.  But that sort of paper-thin cocktail napkin premise requires a massive amount of story in order to span an entire season, and too often the result is a plot that is mired in strange twists and deus-ex-machina resolutions that stretch the limits of credibility.  Even the basic idea seems like something out of an Austin Powers movie:  an megalomaniac wants to blow up the planet, and it’s up to one man ship to stop it.  Pardon me while I yawn.

Death Star? Borg ship from First Contact? No, this is WAY different. Its a Xindi Superweapon. Guess what it does? It destroys planets!

Death Star? Borg ship from First Contact? No, this is WAY different. It's a "Xindi Superweapon." Guess what it does? It destroys planets!

Still, the season does have its high points, and I must give credit where credit is due.  “Twilight” hearkens to one of the best episodes of any TV show ever, “The Inner Light,” and does a good job of showcasing the type of alternate-reality future that often goes over well in Trek mythology.  I appreciate the character development given to T’pol, as she struggles with a loss of emotional control through an addiction to a psychoactive chemical, but her romantic relationship with Trip is about as forced and unbelievable as they come.  “Similitude” and “Hatchery” delve into some moral choices that are the hallmark of good science fiction,  and E2 reminds me of one of the best TNG episodes, “Yesterday’s Enterprise” in both concept and execution.

What’s missing throughout this season, though, is the same thing that’s been missing since the inception of Enterprise: characterization.  After more than 70 episodes of the show, I still don’t have much of an idea of who these spacefaring crew members really are.  Hoshi continues to brandish her superpower of language translation whenever it’s required.  Mayweather dutifully embodies the straight-faced version of his Galaxy Quest counterpart Tommy Webber, but nobody told Mayweather that his counterpart was meant to be a caricature.  The list continues, and few characters are ever lifted beyond the base level of cardboard cutout.  One 20-minute episode of Arrested Development has more personality than the entire Season 3 of Enterprise, largely because these individuals exist as jobs that need individuals (“Weapons Officer,” “Engineer“) as opposed to individuals (“Smart but socially akward guy“, “Charismatic womanizer,” “Brilliant, overworked widow“) who hold given positions on the ship.

Tpol does get some decent character development too, but it feels a bit too contrived.

T'Pol also gets some decent character development, but it feels a bit too contrived.

Some attempts to flesh out these people are made, the most notable being Trip as he deals with his sister’s death at the hand of the Xindi when the probe attacked earth, and later, in an inexplicable breach of established characterization, falls in love with T’pol, as if to fulfil a “Show needs more romance” checkbox on a focus group feedback form. But most of the series is riddled with one-off attempts at characterization that exist in isolated episodes rather than being woven into the fabric of the show as a whole.

The ideas that show up throught Season 3 are impressive:  giant spheres constructed milennia ago that cause gravometric distortions throughout the Delphic Expanse, the various political wranglings of the five distinct Xindi species, and the moral choices that must be made by Captain Archer get into some pretty heavy territory. But too often the show sacrifices the essence of Science Fiction on the altar of fanciful CGI effects.

Here’s hoping the best for Season 4.

Rating: [Rating:3/5]

Live Free or Die Hard (Video Review)

Rating: [Rating:4/5]

Heroes: Season 2

Penning a worthy second act to a fantastic story, whether in print, film, TV, theatre, or other storytelling medium, is always a tricky business.  When writers strike paydirt and resonate with their audiences on such a fundamental level as the first season of Heroes, the question so eloquently put by Nigel Tufnel is obvious:  where can you go from there? After the mind-bending, high-concept first season of Heroes ended, viewers were left with several questions to ponder and a few cliffhangers to mull over during the summer months.  The writing team, in crafting the storylines that would show up in Heroes: Season 2, were faced with not only the dilemma of answering those questions but creating new threads to follow, crafting more intricate conflicts, developing more interesting characters, and generally ratcheting things up a notch or two in order to follow in the footsteps of the mostly brilliant Season 1.

Unfortunately, like Neo on his first jump off a building, Season 2 mostly falls flat on its face.

I suspect the underlying problem comes not from trying to create characters and conflicts that are inherently interesting and compelling, but pulling a “24” and trying to knock everyone’s socks off just for the sake of outdoing the first season.  What we are left with is a slew of new characters that feel hollow, special abilities that are contrived as all get out, and to top things off, a writer’s strike in the middle of the season that effectively stopped the show in its heroic little tracks.

Things start off on a bit of an interesting note as we see what amounts to the aftermath of the events at the end of Season 1.  Mohinder is lecturing on super powers and human DNA, but is brought to work for Primatech by a shady guy named Bob (note to screenwriters:  never use Ned Reyerson as your main villain.  He’s just not that evil.) who apparently runs things over at the company.  Parkman broke up with his cheater wife and is helping Mohinder raise the telepathic girl Molly from Season 1.  Two new characters, Maya and her twin brother Alejandro, are fleeing South America because Maya accidentally kills people when she gets stressed about stuff.  Old favorites like Nikki, Micah, Noah, Nathan, as well as various supporting characters, are all back to join in the fun, whether they have a purpose in the Season 2 storyline or not.  Worse yet, Peter was apparently not killed and (can you guess the cliché?) wakes up with amnesia (I knew you could!) far away from home.

Note to ABC: Noah Bennett is not Jack Bauer.  Dont use him to pander to the 24 audience.

Note to ABC: Noah Bennett is not Jack Bauer. Don't use him to pander to the 24 audience.

All these characters had a purpose in Season 1, as there was a story arc that was brilliantly and carefully laid out for almost the entire show.  But now with Season 2, the cast is all dressed up with nowhere to go, and apocalyptic scenarios seem passé by this time:  instead of a city-destroying explosion, there’s a world-destroying virus (like we haven’t seen that before). Abilities go from inventive and horrifying to silly and absurd:  characters in Season 2 can learn any skill demonstrated on TV, shoot lightning from their fingertips, and create portable black holes that suck stuff in really fast.  Subplot upon subplot is thrust upon the viewers, some with connections to earlier events, some that foreshadow future happenings, and some that have no point whatsoever.

At the end of Season 1 we knew that two key characters, Sylar and Hiro, had both survived.  One of the highlights of Season 2 is seeing Sylar repair himself from a severe case of PTSD, come to develop his powers all over again, and watch his character become much more fleshed out than in Season 1.  However, without question the worst part of Season 2 is the protracted subplot involving Hiro, who is stuck in medieval Japan, and the childhood hero of his dreams who turns out to be more of a crackpot than an actual hero.  What seemed like a good idea at the cliffhanger ending of Season 1 ended up being a boring mess that took some fantastic leaps in logic to become even remotely connected to the rest of the Heroes storyline.

Perhaps the biggest sin of Season 2 is when it falls back on brief moments that worked in Season 1 to try and redeem itself.  Hiro shouts “Great-o Scott-o” at one point, and while this worked as an awesome sci-fi in-joke when he said it in an episode of Season 1, but here it feels like a desperate attempt to recycle once-solid material.  Same goes for the out-of-nowhere guest appearance by Nichelle Nichols, whose character is entirely extraneous.  It was cool when Star Trek alum George Takei appeared in Season 1, but throwing another Trek veteran in a show doesn’t automatically make the show cool.

I don’t mean to be so harsh on the show, and in a way I feel kind of bad writing so many negative things in this review.  The season wasn’t all bad, and there was enough to keep me at least interested until the premature end, which came about as a direct result of the writer’s strike.  But it felt like the show was getting too big for its britches.  It had become a Bryan Singer show suddenly trying to appeal to a Michael Bay audience.

Rating: [Rating:2.5/5]

Danny Deckchair

If I had to describe this movie in one word, it would be simple.  There’s nothing complicated here, nothing that will change your perceptions, challenge your ideas, or leave you with any real sense of wonderment.  The plot is straightforward and painfully predictable, the characters are cobbled together from the bargain bin of Hollywood cardboard cutouts, and the message isn’t anything beyond what most people have heard since third grade.  And yet, the movie is ultimately more than the sum of its parts, and proves to be, if nothing else, good old-fashioned entertainment: the kind of check-your-brain-at-the-door moviegoing experience that is tailor-made for a Friday night rental, provided it is accompanied by a good date and a bucket of buttery popcorn.

(click for trailer)

(click for trailer)

The entire premise of the movie can be surmised from the poster:  average  dude floats away on a lawn chair and starts his life over.  Despite the fact that this idea has actually been tried by real people, it’s still kind of an interesting premise and makes one wonder why more people don’t pull a Peter Gibbons (or, in this case, a Danny Morgan) and just try something new for a change.  Danny, played by quintessential “that one guy” Rhys Ifans (better known as the wiry guy from The Replacements), is a construction worker in Sydney, Australia, with an unappreciative girlfriend and a head full of odd ideas that never quite come to fruition.  One day he decides that he can escape his problems by floating away on a chair tied to several helium balloons, and he ends up in a town where no one knows him and he essentially gets a second chance at life.

There’s nothing here we haven’t seen before in all kinds of fish-out-of-water movies, and the entire story after Danny lands in the small town of Clarence is a paint-by-numbers exercise in Hollywood deja vu.  Danny meets a girl, fails to explain who he really is, and begins living a double life as someone he is not.  The entire town is fooled, he becomes a local hero, but ultimately the truth comes out and Danny must deal with the mess he has created.  Not exactly an Alfonso Cuarón work, folks.

Danny and his friend-girl Glenda share a tender moment.

Danny and his friend-girl Glenda share a tender moment.

And yet, the movie ends up being rather enjoyable due in large part to the incredible charm of Ifans.  Sort of a skinny, blonde, Australian version of Vince Vaughan, he is the type of everyday guy most of us can relate to.  His bumbling, deer-in-the-headlights character who manages to succeed at unwittingly convincing an entire town that he really is a good, honest, salt-of-the-earth guy in spite of himself is eminently endearing and enjoyable.  Miranda Otto, the spitting image of Laura Linney, does a great job at playing the straight-laced parking cop Glenda who turns out to have a more adventurous and carefree side that is (betcha didn’t see this coming) brought out the more she gets to know Danny.

This movie sort of caught me by surprise, and I was struck at how little of the storyline actually revolves around Danny and his deckchair.  The chair is simply a brief means of transportation and ultimately has almost nothing to do with the movie as a whole.  Massive stretches of logic are required just to watch it, too:  if the entire town of Sydney is looking for Danny after he floats away, why does no one in the town of Clarence realize that the mystery man who appeared in town the same night the man from Sydney floated is, in fact, Danny?  Does no one in Clarence watch the news?  A subplot involving Danny kind of exposing a local politician for being somewhat of a fraud is entirely dropped with no resolution, and Danny’s girlfriend Trudy is about as cliché as they come.  But let’s not miss the forest for the trees here:  it’s a fun movie in spite of itself, and just by reading the title you should probably be expecting just about what you’re getting.

Rating: [Rating:3.5/5]