Tim Burton's Batman "The Joker is more of an annoying pest than a villain."

I didn't see this movie until college. I liked it. I thought it was a lot of fun. I asked for it for my birthday. I got it. I watched the excellent special features yesterday afternoon. I got excited to see the movie again. By the time the credits started rolling, I was disappointed. There's no real excuse. I first saw it when my eye for quality was developed. I had seen it several times on AMC (albeit in parts). I hadn't loved the film as a kid, so nostalgia wasn't an excuse for my mistake.

Batman is an exercise in ambition. Tim Burton and the film's producers had big plans for the movie. From the DVD interviews, it's apparent that they thought they had created something really special. The problem is that ambition is nothing without execution. Batman fails in nearly every aspect of its execution.

It's hard to criticize Jack Nicholson for going over the top with his performance. He's the Joker, for Moses' sake. There aren't any rules for playing a character like that. There should have been, though. Nicholson is clearly having the time of his life playing the role, but I must admit I had very little fun with him. He does anything he pleases and I wish a director would have reigned him more. Nicholson unleashed in any situation is cause for alarm. He's not menacing enough. And somebody tell somebody that Jack Nicholson's little jigs in character are not amusing.

That led to other problems. The screenwriters have to make scenes for Nicholson to do his thing, so they put him in that stupid museum scene. A chance to work in the Prince music ("Partyman" is the title of the song) should have been passed up. A terrible idea. Batman's entrance and exit are good. The rest is hammy junk.

Another scene suffering from failed ambition is the bell tower scene. Great plan. Bad execution. It shows sparks of quality, but crumbles under the weight of Nicholson and Basinger's goofy routines. Seriously, there's nothing less climatic than watching Nicholson ham it up as he dances on that ledge and makes his getaway.

Putting Batman into action is the best thing the filmmakers do. It's when they throw him in the mix with the Joker that things falter. And that's a lot of the time. I actually liked the action scenes for what they were, but again the Joker is more of an annoying pest than a villain. Batman should have kicked the crap out of him twenty times over.

The Bruce Wayne scenes are fairly bad as well. There is no chemistry between Michael Keaton and Kim Basinger, so their scenes together are always a bit awkward. It doesn't help that Basinger isn't a good actress. I'm not saying the role called for her to stretch her acting muscles, but any number of actresses could have added zest to the role. Keaton can play the charming billionaire well, but when he's out of costume, he left me itching for him to jump back into it. His knight in shining armor shtick at Vale's apartment is weak and laughable at best. Put the guy in that suit and let those eyes and that cool, stoic hero's voice do the work.

The sets are great. The first third of the movie is actually quite good. But I'm afraid that the corniness and levity that the filmmakers said they so wanted to avoid eventually crept in and sapped all the entertainment from Batman.

**1/2

The Cell

The Cell often gets criticized by reviewers for utilizing the style over substance method. There is certainly style. The film is visually stunning. It never fixes to a look that it can't change whenever it feels like it. It is also terrifying, chiefly because I have never before seen things like I saw in this movie.

But there is substance too. Do I like that substance? That is the question reviewers should be asking themselves. I'm not sure I do, but I think I don't. There are good things about the movie. It explores the mind of a serial killer and offers ideas of what makes men do terrible things.

I didn't like what I saw. It was well constructed visually and well acted by the crazy D'Onofrio and sweet Lopez. But it's horrible stuff that passes before the eyes during the trip inside D'Onofrio's killer's mind.

The film's action climazes when the killer's mind is placed inside Lopez's mind. To comfort him, she chooses to be dressed and presented as the Virgin Mary. Now, I'm all for religious imagery in film, but it must work in the context of the film. Presenting herself as Mary to the killer is a terrible idea. Sure, it's interesting visually, but it doesn't fit with what we've learned about the killer prior to the reveal. He had suffered a very traumatic baptism at a young age, and it seems that he hasn't carried positive feelings about Christianity into adulthood. So, why oh why is it a good idea to comfort him as the Virgin Mary?

Then there's the crucifixion that takes place. No cross, just bolt arrows shot from a crossbow through the killers feet and hands leaving laying out in a Jesus pose. I'm not sure what the filmmakers are trying to say here, and I'm left only to guess. My guess is that the killer must be sacrificed to save the young version he sometimes presents in his mind. But this is a stretch and the film certainly didn't have to include that kind of imagery to convey this to the audience. And I don't think I've ever been more uncomfortable with religious imagery before. Likening the killer to Jesus, even abstractly, is too much for me.

While this is the second-best performance I have seen from Lopez (Out of Sight soaring above and beyond anything else), I am confused why she was paired up (albeit non-romantically) with co-star Vince Vaughn. He is utterly out of place in this movie. Vaughn is talented. I believe he could work in a drama, but not this thriller. Every line he utters (that may be a bit harsh - maybe it's every other line) rings false when it falls from his mouth. That may be because of some awkwardness in the script, but Vaughn certainly doesn't help matters.

I remember really being impressed by this movie when I saw it as a Senior in high school, but it doesn't hold up well to time. It's a decent one-watcher, but revisitng the film will only reveal new flaws to viewers. It is consistently shocking however. That much has not changed.

**1/2

The Game

SPOILERS

I've watched a couple of movies in the last week with a Wizard of Oz Syndrome. Heck, in The Game Michael Douglas even said he's pulling back the curtain because he wants to "meet the Wizard."

"And what is the Wizard of Oz Syndrome?" you may ask. Well, it's when you flip around the majority of the reality of everything preceeding the big reveal, the moment our hero or heroine wakes up and says, "I've had the oddest dream. And you were there. And you were there. And..." That is the case with The Game, albeit with a thriller twist. And like most WoOS movies, the satisfaction is in the ending. If it doesn't work, the film doesn't work.

The ending in the Game works for me. It rendered everything before it implausible, but I gladly hand over my disbelief in return for a mind-bending thrill ride with one of my favorite actors, Michael Douglas, and the handiwork of director David Fincher.

I must admit, the film loses some quality of experience on repeated viewings, but very few movies can rival the excitement I felt when I first watched it. First, problems. I found some of the hijinks to fall a little flat this time through. "Hijinks in a thriller?" you might say. Consider them "thriller hijinks." Michael Douglas gets tossed into this game that really kicks off with might be considered an unorthodox "meet-cute" scene not that much different from your average, run-of-the-mill romantic comedy. Only, in the Game, the guy and gal are being chased by police and angry dogs. The snappy dialogue between Douglas and the woman in the scene, played by Deborah Kara Unger, is a real bump out of the film. First, it's not realistic. Second, it's too cute. This movie is actually really dark and that scene really sticks out as one of those "Sesame Street - one of these things is not like the others" moments. Another one of those moments occurs when Douglas interacts with his televison's personality.

The implausibility of the plot does not keep me from loving this film, but it can prove bothersome when the big reveal happens. Even though I labeled this post with a "SPOILER" warning, I'm not going to ruin the twists and turns of the story. Just know that you do have to lay down your better judgment for a moment. It's not difficult to do, I swear.

The film really hits its stride after Douglas starts to unravel the mystery in Christine's apartment. The action picks up, the stakes rise, and all is right in the world of entertainment.

Pluses are many. Michael Douglas gets to do some of his familiar but amazing acting tricks. He plays the rich sour puss. He plays the man at the end of his desperation rope. He plays the vengeful spirit for all its worth. He does all this with considerable skill, which makes the "thriller hijinks" stand out all the more. But he is the audience's eyes and ears into this labyrinth of a mystery. And he portrays all the desperation, frustration, and confusion I felt as I watched The Game for the first time. Because I felt so connected to his character throughout the film, I felt the ending was justified and earned. So, the success of the film should be placed on Douglas' shoulders.

Sean Penn gets to do his familiar acting tricks. He plays it smooth, then lets out his whining shouts in that warbling foul-mouthed child's voice of his. But I like the guy and his talent. His role is small, but Penn knows how to support the lead. Sure, he chews some scenery, but there are few who I would rather watch chow down.

Fincher is the other driving force in the film. He doesn't appear for one second in the film, but his eye for staging a scene is always there. He uses a lot of low angles, hard lighting, and adds a gray tint to the movie. It adds to the already dark tone of the film. The low angles, coupled with various skewed angles portray the confusion of the film. The lighting and camera work during the scenes that take place at night are really remarkable considering many of the key scenes occur outside after dark. Fincher knows how to get the most out of his actors. Much has been written about his obsessive nature as a filmmaker, but I think the results are enough to excuse any hard headedness the guy throws around. He makes good movies. Even when they're so-so (Panic Room), they're made better than most of the movies out there. I say this because he knows how to construct a film. The credits show puzzle pieces splitting apart, and that is essentially what his films are - carefully designed puzzles that he can seperate and put back together at his choosing. The guy really knows how to build suspense and capitalize on the emotions of his audience.

Another big plus is the score. It contains one main theme, but that little piece of music accentuates the chills and thrills that are peppered throughout the film. Timed perfectly with the action on screen, the score often much scarier than what a piece of music has any right to be.

Themes...Well, the movie centers around a "remember what's really important in life" theme. Added to that is the idea that your life is your own; and death doesn't have to be a monkey on your back. While these themes are not exactly subtle, they are nowhere near a hinderance to the enjoyment of the film. And I can't really argue with them. But the real reward for living is the embrace of the good you have and could have if only you would let yourself have it. And it needs to be said even if it's shoved in your face a bit.

***1/2

The Way of the Gun

Note to reader: this film does not warrant this long of a review, but when I sat down to write it, I discovered I had a lot to say about it. So, if you give up midway through, I understand.



Rewatching The Way of the Gun after a two or three year break in between allowed me to view the film with a fresh perspective. It is not as strong of a film as I originally thought, but I still really like the film. The flaws are more glaring now, but strengths are clearer as well.

The Way of the Gun is the directoral debut of The Usual Suspects Oscar-winning screenwriter Christopher McQuarrie. It flopped and McQuarrie hasn't really worked much since. That's a shame because he shows a lot of promise with this movie. His skills as a screenwriter are already recognized (you know, with that gold guy statue), and they are on display here. Like The Usual Suspects, there are lots of creative lines that are ripe for quoting. Unlike The Usual Suspects, they do not always work within the context of the movie. When the lines do work, they're great. When they don't work, they are a bump out of the reality of the film. The film works so hard to force the crime movie genre dialogue that it sometimes shows its strained effort rather than playing seamlessly (i.e. - "I promise you a day of reckoning that you won't live long enough to never forget."). But there are some wonderful spots of dialogue that play to McQuarrie's strengths, particularly a scene with Benicio Del Toro's kidnapper and James Caan's "bagman" sharing a cup of coffee and discussing the sorry state of the common criminal ("These days, they want to be criminals more than they want to commit crime."). Another strong scene, definitely Phillippe's best scene in the film, is a conversation with Del Toro vaguely about conscience and the wages of sin.

But there are those awkward scenes as well. I'll chalk up much of this awkwardness to some performances. Taye Diggs doesn't really handle gritty dialogue well. He rings false as an always professional, ruthless bodyguard. He seems miscast. I'll admit, the guy is charismatic, but any talent he may have is absent in the role.

McQuarrie wants to write a gritty movie, and he mostly succeeds. Everybody in the film has questionable morals, with most of the characters playing either emotionally numb or emotionally conflicted low-lifes in either nice suits and dress shirts or thrift store shirts and nine dollar hair cuts. While this could have made it very difficult to root for anyone, McQuarrie writes his two main characters complexly enough to make me care.

The locales, especially when the setting moves to Mexico, also lend their hands to the style. A dirty brothel and shoddy motel and bar can't help but set the tone for the shady dealings that take place.

McQuarrie is also a strong plotter (if that's a word). The plot is complicated with interesting conflicts both personal and professionally amongst the characters. The conflicts created actually make the plot seem much more complicated than it really is, but that isn't as bad thing. It's really a basic kidnapping movie, but one set up very well.

The cinematography also shows off a interesting eye for mise en cine. There's some frontality, lighting choices, and framing that really holds the action well. Some of the brief quiet, still moments really stood out to me such as Phillippe and the very pregnant Juliette Lewis sharing a snadwich in a stolen van, Lewis riding an elevator with her bodyguards, and Del Toro mulling over the weight of the situation during a c-section happening right next him.

The strength of this movie is in part the plotting and characterizations, but largely the performances of two of its actors. Benicio Del Toro is great, playing a older, wiser, more experienced criminal somewhat mentoring his friend, "associate," and fellow criminal played by Ryan Phillippe. He almost always dominates his scenes with Phillippe even though his character is much more reserved, smooth, and quiet. No one in the film handles the dialogue better than Del Toro. It rolls off his tongue naturally, fortifying his low-life as a fully-realized performance.

This film is also notable because it features a wonderful performance by James Caan, who since this film was released in 2000, has been stuck in TV land in Las Vegas, which is, as one would imagine, lackluster. He plays with and against type, playing his usual tough guy persona, but with the twist that it's a aged tough guy whose old fashioned means of operation cast him in a bad light when two young, modern bodyguards convince their employer he is past his prime. The role might mirror his own career when older actors known for their out of date personas have to prove themselves as relevant. And he does. He's still a tough guy with many of the film's best scenes. It's fun to see Caan act again. He's pretty good at it.

Phillippe is the other lead, and his character adds moral conviction to the mix. His criminal is an interesting character, preaching the mission statement of his partnership in a voice over in the beginning, though his character slowly sheds his certainty of the necessity of their livelihood. He gets a nice speech I mentioned earlier in this review that stands out, but quite a bit of his performance is incredibly forced. I like Phillippe, and he certainly has improved as an actor (Breach, Crash), but I wonder how much better this film could have been with a different actor like Mark Ruffalo or Edward Norton, though their ages do not fit the part.

The theme of the film is making amends for your sins. It isn’t hit over the head of the viewer, and I actually had to do some thinking about what the theme was. But it was there the whole time in plain sight. These are bad people and their sins are many, but they are granted the chance to do something right. The question raised is: does one thing done right fix all that was done wrong.? And the film’s answer is: don’t expect anything in the way of redemption.

***

The Matrix: Revolutions

I found this old review I did for The Matrix: Revolutions on my old site, and it still holds true to my feelings today. I know it's long, but the rantings of a mad man tend to be.



"The Matrix: Revolutions spoils the achievements of the first two films in the franchise and squanders potential that few films could rival.
The first film could stand alone as its own film, but the promises of more amazing special effects and complex storytelling was enough to get audiences salivating for more. Rarely have audiences been so thrilled as they were by the combination of action, philosophy, science fiction, and a new breed of special effects that would spawn a new generation of copycat filmmakers.
The Matrix: Reloaded was a film overwhelmed with constant action set pieces. The action soon overcame the storytelling to dominate the film. Still, it took the movie goer back to that same unchartered territory that the first film introduced us to. It also contained the single best car chase that I have ever witnessed, an eighteen minute action extravaganza peaking with a martial arts fight on a moving semi. The film also promised better things to come, signified with its "to be continued"-like ending that had audiences divided.
I loved Reloaded for a good long while. It had produced adrenaline in my body like no other film has. The thrill ride was constant and exhilerating. Then the third film, The Matrix: Revolutions, surfaced.
I could ignore the negative musing of fans after seeing the second film because I knew that film served as a second chapter in a three chapter story. They would soon see how necessary Reloaded was in order to bring about the end of the series. I have to say, crow never tasted this bad before.
The Matrix: Revolutions is a terribly disappointing piece of work. Repetition and missteps by the directors and writers, the Wachowski brothers, ended up sinking the franchise.
Where Reloaded left off, Neo was stuck in a coma, existing somewhere between the matrix and the machine world. Bane, who had been assimilated by Agent Smith, had tripped an EMP that rendered a whole series of ships defenseless against an onslaught of sentinals. Meanwhile, sentinals approached Zion and there were preparations being made to protect it. Neo had found out that he was only one of a whole series of Ones, but he chose to follow a dangerous path when he went into the matrix to save Trinity.
The story set up for Revolutions had great potential. Sadly, that potential was never realized. Instead, the Wachowskis gave us another excuse to dislike sequels.
Two main problems surfaced in the last film that ultimately proved to be more than it could overcome.
1) Agent Smith became a cartoon. He soon only delivered slow, drawn out syllables for catch phrases and neurotic exposition. He no longer was menacing as he so ably was in the first film. The second film hinted at the direction the character would eventually follow, but I never expected it to get so bad.
2) Elementary storytelling became the means of exposition most often used. Things created in the first film, such as the familiar "come and get it" motion of the hand by Morpheus and Neo, resurface again in the final film. It doesn't take a brilliant storyteller to reincorporate story elements that he or she created. But doing so in such a flashy, knowing manner shows little insight into how to finish an epic storyline.
The final battle between Neo and Agent Smith seemd entirely stale because it had been done better and without noticable effort in the first two films. By Revolutions, the battle seemd old and boring by comparison to the other excellent fights we were treated to in the first two films. While I watched Neo and Agent Smith repeatedly run into or punch each other, thus creating massive shock waves, I couldn't help but ask myself, "Is this what I've been waiting for? Is this the climax the other films deserve?" The answers ended up being "no" and "no."
The film managed to take the three lead characters and make them completely boring. The actors and actress who played them must have sensed this because they seem to be sleepwalking through their parts.
Morpheus used to be a Yoda with attitude. Then he was just a stock character left to experience some minor story devices. Gone was his enigmatic qualities evidenced in the first two films. In its place was someone we knew everything about and didn't care to know anymore of.
He was my favorite character of the series, but Revolutions gives him nothing to work with. Even when his dream is realized, when he experiences something he has longed anf fought for, he's not flush with unsurmountable joy like I would have expected. He merely strolls through his final scenes like the office dullard.
Morpheus has become a pawn whereas he had started as a King or at least a Knight on the Wachowski chess board.
Trinity is now only a love interest who serves the purpose of giving Neo some dramatic moments. She was very much a simple character in Reloaded as well, but I could not have predicted how one-note she would end up. The saucy, leatherclad Trinity who got some mojos working in the first film saw her quality disipate in the second film. In the third film, she's just there. Everything that she's supposed to be struggling for comes easy. Either it comes too fast or not fast enough. That trait is one she shares with the entire film.
Neo was a prototype hero for the ages. How could you not root for him? He was going to save an entire nation. He was going to "free our minds." Then he became a pathetic pawn, used as a game piece by the machines and the mysterious Oracle and Architect. You stop caring about him about the point in the movie when he no longer commands sympathy.
A major player in the Matrix world loses his or her life, but what should be a shattering event soon becomes a unbelievably lengthy monologue delivered with soap opera panache. It was the beginning of the end, but I was already done with it.
That having been said, the film does contain high-quality special effects. But I don't see movies for great special effects. I want the whole package, a movie that is good from A to Z. Revolutions made the series stop somewhere between I and O. Go figure.

**"