Stupidness getting stupider somehow makes it better.
Not only was I expecting to hate Neighbors 2: Sorority Rising, but I kinda wanted to. I wanted a chance to get all my pent up anger and frustration out in a gorgeous scathing review. But dammit, it was a fun movie. Continue reading “Film Review: Neighbors 2: Sorority Rising“
An utterly unique (surrealist) romantic comedy that inadvertently subverts all other romantic comedies.
To all you single folks — do you feel the pressure of finding a partner? Well, imagine that you have 45 days to do so otherwise you’ll be turned into an animal. How’s that for pressure? That’s the boiled-down premise of Yorgos Lanthimos’s The Lobster, a fascinatingly bizarre and dark dramedy romance (you could say it transcends multiple genres). Of course, there’s a lot more to The Lobster than just the 45 day ultimatum tidbit. The film eschews most everything that remotely resembles normal storytelling yet manages to convey a uniquely human story within its dystopian setting. The Lobster is a sharp satirical look at the oppressive nature of our societal coupledom, maintaining a steady level of surrealist humor even as it descends into darker and darker territory and an appropriately uneven finish.
Key & Peele deliver a solid R-rated comedy for cat lovers.
The dynamic comedy duo of Key & Peele make their feature film debut with Keanu, an R-rated comedy about two homely guys masquerading into the criminal world in search of their kidnapped kitten. If you’re familiar with the Key & Peele comedic style, you’re sure to like Keanu for all its racial, crude, and awkward humor. If you’re not familiar with it, you may find yourself laughing at a moment or two and frustrated at others. Luckily, it’s fast-paced enough to get by any failed humor with ease. Keanu is a solid gut-busting debut for Keegan-Michael Key and Jordan Peele, who utilize their strengths to bolster a hilariously absurd (and cuddly) premise.
The Boss gets to a hilarious point, and then avoids it the rest of the way.
Melissa McCarthy has been a central figure in the female-led comedic renaissance in modern cinema. 2011’s Bridesmaids kicked off a constant flow of adult comedies featuring female leads, and the results have been great. That isn’t to say that female-led comedies were never produced before, but they were few and far between — about one to every ten male-led adult comedies (a guesstimate). The Boss is the latest entry in the new wave of such films, and while it’s not nearly as funny as others, it gleefully crosses the politically incorrect line on a few occasions while criticizing some of our society’s most antiquated views of women of all ages. And when it does, unfortunately not often enough, it’s hysterical!
“Hey everyone, Batman is fighting Superman!” <<everyone rushes to the schoolyard>> “Aw, is it over?” “Yeah, it didn’t last long and it wasn’t too exciting, but they promised to fight someone else together next time.” There you have it — that’s a pretty good summary of the disappointing DC tent event, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. What ends up functioning as a 2 hr 40 min movie trailer for an pending Justice League movie is enjoyable at times but mostly a mess of style over substance. Anyone familiar, and probably critical, of director Zack Snyder’s work won’t be surprised by this. There was so much (tentative) hype for BvS that it would’ve been nearly impossible for it to live up to the expectations, but hey, The Force Awakens pulled it off so BvS has no excuse. BvS is disappointing on so many levels, save a surprisingly stellar Ben Affleck as Batman, because its favors more over less, background over foreground, and a serious tone over a fun one.
I haven’t seen E.T. in twenty years, but by the time the credits rolled I had teary eyes and the theme song wonderfully repeating itself in my head. My girlfriend sitting next to me exclaimed, “my track record of crying every time I see E.T. is still intact”. That’s the power of Steven Spielberg’s 1982 classic E.T. the Extra Terrestrial, and there really was no better way to watch the film than with live orchestral accompaniment at the San Francisco Symphony.
Malick’s stream of consciousness goes to Hollywood.
For the most part, you’re either a fan of Terrence Malick or you’re not. There isn’t a whole lot of middle ground, considering the polarizing style of his films — they’re sort of poetic streams of consciousness in the form of montages and existential voice-overs. His early masterpieces, like Days of Heaven and Badlands (and even The Thin Red Line) paved the way for, arguably, his magnum opus, The Tree of Life. Since then he’s delivered hit-or-miss cinematic experiences that are stories built upon the interpretation of the collection of images on the screen. Not to say that Malick doesn’t have a complete understanding grasp of his own products, but it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to think he may not, and purposefully so. And now there’s Knight of Cups, Malick’s newest existential experience. This time, the experience is centered around one man’s journey in Hollywood, his success and failure, of the rich and poor around him, his dreams and his fate, and with a central heartbeat to it all in the form of tarot cards. What’s not to like!? Well, there’s a lot that feels pretentious and aimless, and accidentally so. But there’s also a lot in Knight of Cups that overflows with meaning and beauty, and those moments make KoC just rewarding enough to enjoy watching.
So good it might as well feature humans, but then it wouldn’t be as good.
Zootopia has all the makings of a classic Pixar film. Everything except the emotional heft. But seriously, it has absolutely everything else going for it — it’s inventive, beautifully animated, smart, funny, and well-rounded. Just because it doesn’t make you cry shouldn’t be any reason to think less of this Disney entry, though it’ll inevitably be compared to recent Pixar films (I’ve already been asked if it’s as good as Inside Out, which it isn’t, but it’s more re-watchable). Two of Zootopia‘s directors are Byron Howard (Bolt, Tangled) and Rich Moore (Wreck-It Ralph), so you know that the sense of humor will be quick-witted and charming, and the characters quirky and varied. But more significantly than that, Zootopia sustains a maximum sense of fun while simultaneously tackling social issues with more finesse than most films.
I really wanted another Olympus Has Fallen, the action-packed guilty pleasure of 2013. I was ready for explosions and gunfire and John McClane-type odds. London Has Fallen missed the mark on every single one of my expectations. The explosions looked hokey, the level of implausibility was off the charts, and despite the John McClane-type odds, the action never rose to fully excitable heights. Gerard Butler has the same charisma he’s always had, but the movie (which he produced) doesn’t do him any favors — simplifying his one-note wise-cracking character to a gun wielding one-note wise-cracking character. Sure, it serves the ultra-generic action movie plot well, but when the best line he utters is “F-ck me? F-ck you!”, you know that another minute or two could’ve been spent fleshing out his character’s persona a bit more. Needless to say, Butler is still the best part of London Has Fallen, demonstrating his physical action hero gravitas in a sea of utter muck.
Eddie the Eagle soars to near fallible emotional heights.
The beauty of watching athleticism en masse is that, in theory, everyone is brought together. The Olympics are the ultimate testament to this; it seems the whole world turns whatever devices possible to follow the games and share victory or cringe in defeat with fellow fans. I have never been a sports person and have therefore never really followed any athletic event, but I do enjoy physical comedy and a good underdog tale. Eddie the Eagle simultaneously fulfills the need for mass athletic fandom with (seemingly painful) pratfalls and unstoppable optimism.