Smokin' Aces 2

Further proof that successful box office ventures are only validated by making a horrific, straight-to-video sequel. The victim this time is Joe Carnahan’s Smokin’ Aces, which ranks right near the top of my list of guilty pleasures. The surprise, in contrast to the ultimate insult of S. Darko, is that Carnahan was involved as executive producer, thus slightly legitimizing something that should not exist.

Carnahan’s original film features a huge cast of criminals, hit men, and government officials all converging at a Lake Tahoe hotel for an exciting round of carnage. The film is flashy, stylish, inventive, entertaining, and doesn’t spend too much time developing needless exposition. This is not to say it is plotless, but action and effects overshadow the developments. Its sequel, in sharp contrast, rips off nearly every aspect of the original and succeeds in none of them. Be it the bold, frame stealing titles, the use of elevators, the brutal Tremors, or the inclusion of many, many guns, 2 makes everything look like a giant, cheaply conceived joke. Unfortunately, a few characters are reincarnated from the original, the rest simply being ripped off. Director P.J. Pesce is uncertain how to handle the action scenes that comprise much of the film. Any sense of environmental orientation is absent with guns firing every which way yet still managing to hit their targets. The explosions feel only half-rendered. The blood is noticeably excessive in comparison to its predecessor. And all the characters that were cool are now laughable. The timeless bad-assery of Tom Berenger should have added a solid foundation of awesome but he too was degraded to straight to DVD pathos.

Smokin’ Aces is a high-rolling exercise in excess, from the penthouse shoot-out to Mafia affiliated target. It is clear, even beyond the promise of a million dollar reward, that lot’s of people are rolling in money and nearly everyone is inspired by greed. Yet for Smokin’ Aces 2, the high rise hotel is replaced by a badly lit club on a fake looking street and the wheelchair bound hit is practically buried alive from the start in a cavernous bunker. The film immediately loses any high-gloss connection to the film it tries so pathetically to emulate. Unsurprisingly, and rather fortunately, Clint Mansell’s score is noticeably absent.

In conclusion, the first film is not a great movie, but is endlessly fun and entertaining. The second film is a bad excuse for a movie that is endless in its exploits and fun only as a point of reference to the first. I’d ask people to stop making bad movies but they wouldn’t listen.

Let the Film Speak

“I would not think of quarreling with your interpretation nor offering any other, as I have found it is always the best policy to allow the film to speak for itself.”

-Stanley Kubrick

The work of Stanley Kubrick is diverse, deep, and highly praised. It is also quite evidently his work; whether it be obsessive use of tracking or the extreme mental states of his characters. The same can be said for the director that has been under much discussion, David Cronenberg. Replace the tracking shots with stationary shots and add lively special effects and gore. However, as has been addressed, Cronenberg is extremely active in the reception and interpretation of his films. This seems like quite and interesting difference than the mindset Kubrick presents in his quote. I am not here to argue the viability of interpreting either of the director’s films in any certain way. Rather, I find it curious and perhaps telling, that these two esteemed directors apparently share such different opinions when it comes to the reception of their films.

We could, of course, attribute the difference simply to personality. Kubrick was notoriously hermitic, carving out his own little movie making kingdom and only occasionally and selectively opening up his mind to others. Cronenberg, on the other hand, is open and willing to discuss the nature and state of his filmmaking practice. Regardless of personal style, each director has succeeded in making some (many) of the most important movies to date.

It makes me wonder, then, what this says about each director and their relationship to their craft. Is Cronenberg too heavy-handed in suggesting a certain reading into his films? Is Kubrick too naïve to allow the masses to see what they want to see? Or does the combination of styles produce the fertile critical and theoretical landscape needed to further our understanding of the world of filmmaking? Of course the diversity of readings is what prompts debate and opens up new avenues of thought. We need conflict in order to progress, to come up with something novel. But, is this better achieved by an artist sitting back and not giving us any guidance or by taking our hand and leading the way? Or more appropriately, perhaps it is not a question of which is better. (It seems a rare case to find a situation when we are not asked to determine which of two options is better)

Perhaps it is a question of intent. Does Kubrick want us to discover for ourselves despite whether they coincide with his thoughts? Does Cronenberg aim his interpretations so that we both find ways to support and negate and thus inherently foster discussion? It is incontrovertible that both of these director’s are intelligent, talented, and conscious of the way their films are received. (And I don’t mean to suggest that Kubrick simply washed his hands of the films he made upon their release) Likewise, both have an acute sense of how film works. This being so, each are capable of producing an intended effect, of getting an idea across.

Yet like any work that consumes its creator, filmmakers are indeed caught up in their stories and how they are telling them. They are also incapable of removing themselves from the process that has created the product. Spectators, on the other hand, have much less invested in the film, be it money, sweat, or reputation. Thus we offer a fresh set of eyes to see the work, whether this is superior or not remains debatable. This then opens up discussion for the reading of art by its creator vs its audience, which we will not get into at this time.

Posters 2009.

Here be some awesome movie posters from the year past.

http://www.instantshift.com/2010/

01/04/30-best-movie-posters-of-2009/

I think listal does the best yet they are simply a collection, not ranked. Although you can choose to see them many an order.

http://www.listal.com/list/melhores-posteres-de-2009

As is obvious, Moon had many phenomenal posters as did Antichrist and Inglourious Basterds.

And here are a ton of posters, many which I know I never saw.

http://www.impawards.com/2009/std.html

I don't know what The Forbidden Door is but I want to see it.

Enjoy.

The Thing (1982) Prequel

Let me say right from the start that it could be worse; they could be trying to remake John Carpenter’s classic, nearly flawless, fantastic masterpiece, itself a remake of the decent The Thing from Another World (1951) based on John W. Campbell Jr.’s story “Who Goes There?”. So since it is not worse, we’ll at least give it a bad. Word on the street is that the prequel, following the Norwegian scientists, begins filming in Toronto in March of this year.

Now we are all aware of the massive recycling program going on in today’s film industry. And if the slew of remakes (too many to name here), reboots (too many to name here) and sequels (too many to name here) aren’t enough, then certainly this prequel is. It stars Elizabeth Winstead and Joel Edgerton. So if you have seen Carpenter’s film, you know the absence of any female characters added a heightened sense of tense discomfort, which, regardless, this film will likely fail to replicate.

If you have forgotten, the film includes Keith David and Wilford Brimley, and of course Carpenter regular and owner of the silver screen’s most badass beard- Kurt Russell. The creature effects are ridiculous and amazing the Carpenter does a fantastic job at creating a tense, claustrophobic paranoia as the characters come to realize the creature could be anyone or anything. I cannot stress enough how much this film would have to live up to for anyone to like it save for the teenyboppers that have not seen either of the other films. The fact that it is a companion film gives it a little room but the filmmakers should know they are treading on dangerous ground.

Matthijs Van Heijningen is directing, and no, that name should not sound familiar. MTV’s movie blog (not a regular source) suggests he could be the next Zack Snyder. Uh oh.

Over Analyzed.

I realize that there is a point in analyzing works. I can understand the need to interpret and find reasons for what an artist has done. I can also claim to engage in the process myself. Yet that doesn't deter me from continuously questioning the process. On many occasions I have found myself listening to evaluations and interpretations of films only to think they sounded ludicrous. Then I hear another only to consider it even more far fetched in comparison to the film than the first one. This is where my leeriness to the practice of figuring out meaning comes from.

I have always been fascinated by the world, particularly for the reason that I can see it. Thus, interesting and strange and beautiful visuals have always been important to me. Further, I can admire a piece of work that is not trying to say anything at all other than being good to look at. This is where I seem to find myself alone. In this business it is all about story. If you have a good story the visuals can be worthless and it doesn't matter. The audience will still get it. But I have often yearned for the opposite. I want something void of meaning, void of story, something I can stare at and be amazed. Obviously, experimental film sweeps in to fulfill this desire immediately, yet even that is riddled with the need for interpretation.

I made a video for class that fit a certain structure and message I was going for. Unsurprisingly, the class found numerous other ways in which to read it. I in no way suggested they were wrong but listened to their ideas instead. However, I did not put them there. They were born from somebody else’s mind and exemplify my dissatisfaction with finding a meaning behind everything. Everybody will bring their own idea no matter what is presented. And in a similar vein, one can find whatever they are looking for wherever they look.

Now I am not asking for a schlocky and immature attempt at something so intently driven by entertainment value that it demands the lowest intelligence possible. I simply want the ability to stare at something uninterrupted without having to reason for its inherent magnetism. I guess I just want to see a sunset everywhere.I suppose it is product of our evolution that we stimulate our intellect to the nth degree. And that is fine. Despite the fact that we are in no danger of extinction, it is indeed good to increase our abilities. Yet at the same time we need to be able to revel in simplicity of liking how something looks. If we really want to get down to it, we are trying to find meaning in the things we create because we are trying to find meaning in the creation of ourselves. And as is obvious, we have yet to satisfactorily find that.

Ever Seen It: Swamp Thing (1982)

Wes Craven’s attempt the show he could handle stars, stunts, and action resulted in this 1982 film based on the comic book of the same name. The film shows a group of scientists working on some special concoction that glows a radioactive green. Its purpose is to create an animal plant hybrid that can survive the harsh conditions of the swamp. To the benefit of the audience, the scientist himself gets transformed into a rubbery plant man with superhuman strength and primitive linguistic skills. He seeks revenge on the military minds who sought to take his prized creation.

The $3 million budget doesn't let the film takes itself too seriously, a necessary ingredient for the given content. And aside from the stray exposition about human nature, much of the film is good old-fashioned cat and mouse, or rather, swamp thing and wanna-be Rambo. Filmed in the swamps of South Carolina, the film includes enough swamp thing destruction and rampage to make it’s 91 minute running time go by in less time than it takes to say AAAGAHAJAHAGAHAAGAgAGAGAHAHAAGAHAA!

One of the most creative and original cinematic experiences carried about in this film is its use of transitions. Be they radial wipes, sides wipes, or black ooze, the filmmakers never fail to find a creative way to branch the narratively distracting lapses in time. Their absurdity is vastly overshadowed by how fun it is to see which one they will use next. But the film’s visual spontaneity doesn't stop there. The zoom is employed to mass benefit and helps bring out the intricate details of the swamp thing’s well done effects. Likewise, the film cares not for consistency in spatial orientation and freely inserts suggested viewpoints that stray (through obvious differentiation in lighting and location) from actual environmental placement. Yet despite these sentimental flaws, the film is entirely fun.

And not to spend and hour and a half for nothing, we learn that the special chemical doesn't immediately make one powerful; it simply amplifies the users essence. The creature we are inside is brought to life. Fortunately for us, the head baddie, appropriately named Arcane (who appropriately followed this film with Octopussy), turns into a marble-eyed, wolf like beast with whose weapon of choice is a medieval sword. Naturally, he and swampie battle to the death in the campiest and most entertaining segment of the film.

RIP Dick Durock -17 September 2009

Joel Silver in talks for 3-D remake...

Cronenbergian Auteurism

For a person who wasn’t going to school for film, David Cronenberg has carved himself a pretty formidable reputation as both master of horror as well as culturally conscious auteur. From his low budget, Canadian government financed body horror to his recent Hollywood and Oscar nominated family dramas, his career has spanned multiple decades and multiple countries. Yet for all the attention he has received both locally and internationally, his reputation, as a confident and competent director, has not been undermined.

Ernest Mathijs describes Cronenberg as an active auteur, someone whose authorial presence transcends the screen and enters the public sphere to help adapt interpretations and reactions to his films. While many are ready to discount his early efforts to the hoards of b-horror stockpiles, he countered them by claiming artistic merit in his work. And while his string of films through the 80’s and 90’s certainly deserve such merit uncontested, his early work demanded a bit more defense. In 1981, Cronenberg’s film Scanners was marketed around a few single seconds of the film. These 47 frames have since entered the cult film kingdom as not only impressive, but immortal. As a character’s tense and panicked face contort to supreme fear and submission, his head explodes in a bloody detonation of rabbit livers and dog food. The aftermath, although bloody on-screen, was much more alarming off-screen. Mathijs devotes no less than half a dozen pages to the exploding head, its effects, and its reception. But more importantly, is its connection and importance in the oeuvre of its director.

If the sex parasites and hematophagic armpit plunger weren’t enough, Scanners’ exploding head gave the cautiously minded and socially concerned (read: uptight) something to complain about. The active and attentive Cronenberg defended his film and every film since then that has fared negatively in the public eye for its content; be it sex in Crash, masochism in Videodrome, or violence in any number of his films. While such shocking subject matter is often deemed exploitative, its true function is a synthesis of understanding and necessity.

Cronenberg’s status as acclaimed Baron of Blood and King of Venereal Horror put him very near, if not atop, the pantheon of cult film directors. So while his visually graphic money shots pertain to the story, they remain important in maintaining the fanship his early films gathered. This is important in recognizing the directorial awareness that has marked his career; a recognition and attention to the audience of his films. Yet this is not limited to the late-night male audience who just want to see exploding heads but expands into the film critic elite who pick apart his films detail by detail and criticize the content. His work has consistently garnered harsh reception by the likes of Robin Wood and others who see his b-grade horror as tastelessly full of sex and violence.

This all said, and again paying attention to his consistent awareness of his films’ receptions, Cronenberg’s active auteurism seems not only a relevant and advantageous approach but a vastly important one for any artist. As I began discussing earlier, an artist projects his work into view of an audience who will certainly bring different interpretations and run the risk of losing the intended message. This is where the creator can, or should, step in to guide how their work is seen. David Cronenberg has done this since the beginning.

Oscars! 2009

     Yesterday the Oscar nominations were released, this year introducing the 10-nominee roster for Best Picture. No surprise are the 9 nominations for Avatar including best picture and best visual effects among some of them. What is surprising, though, is that The Hurt Locker received just as many nominations, including best picture and best actor.
     The 10-spot roster for best picture includes the two aforementioned films, along with Precious, Inglorious Bastards,District 9, The Blind Side, An Education, A Serious Man, UP, and Jason Reitman's  Up In The Air.
     The inclusion of UP as a contender for the best Picture is a serious change of pace. Since the movie is also nominated for best Animated feature, I doubt it will be able to win both. In my opinion, the oscars may be making way for Fantastic Mr. Fox, or Coraline to win best Animated feature, and UP will just have to live with two nominations. (of course, I could be wrong... but it seems odd to include UP in both Best Picture and Best Animated Feature categories.)
     Unfortunately, Avatar is probably going to win a great number of its nominations, mainly because of its receipt at the box office. Having crossed the $2 billion mark (and beating Titanic's all-time world-wide record) and on the verge of crossing the $600 million mark (which it could possible surpass by the end of today), Avatar has a good chance of being the pick.
     In another arena, the best original score (another one of my favorite aspects of film following (next to box office counts)) has some good contenders with some of my favorite composers in the running. UP, the score by Michael Giacchino (Star Trek, Lost, Alias,Mission Impossible III, and several other Pixar films) is in the running with another animation Fantastic Mr. Fox by Alexandre Desplat (The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, The Golden Compass, The Queen). Marco Beltrami (3:10 to Yuma, I, Robot, Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines) composed for The Hurt Locker alongside Buck Sanders. Hans Zimmer, one of my most recent favorites, (Gladiator, Pirates of the Caribbean, The Dark Knight, The DaVinci Code, Thelma and Louise) composed for Sherlock Holmes this year. And of course,Avatar's composer James Horner (Titanic, Troy, A Beautiful Mind,Glory) takes his stab at the Oscar.

The Brood.

The Brood is the only film in my recent memory to actually give a physical response to its horrifying content. And while the childlike munchkins that elicited the response have been given ample screen time in numerous horror films sense, Cronenberg’s puts them to most effective use here. However, they are accompanied by a rather thorough melodramatic development about family relationships. Although the lengthy expositions may be occasionally out of place for a horror film, they also effectively work to delay the scare and let it brew just a little longer.

A mother who is undergoing radical and experimental psychotherapy manifests her fear and anger physically; into childlike beings that she births from an external womb and cleans of blood with her mouth. These creatures wreak havoc on her relatives before their source is discovered, causing her ex-husband and daughter the most distress. Admittedly personal, the story is further Cronenbergian in its cultist representation that has found a place in many of his films. And while it contains some classic and disturbing visuals that mark his signature, the film is perhaps the only film that sets out with intention to scare.

We are not immediately treated to the brood, whose faces are distorted and often hidden in the hoods of their brightly colored snowsuits. Yet their evilly mischievous ways are alerted to from the outset. These children, far from innocent, seem to have an infatuation with beating their victim’s head as a kill tactic. Effectiveness is not open to discussion. But the way in which the brood are handled cinematically; carefully obscured, identified by sound, allowed only a quick glimpse, make their first bodily appearance both frightening and disturbing. They have not the soft and clean childhood innocence in their faces nor would their actions conflict such. The success of the film as actually scary comes from this oddity, from what appears to be a small clan of murderous elves.

The Brood hit the scene during a horror movie extravaganza and fared well. At the same time, it was criticized for its misogynistic material and the fact that Cronenberg admits its source as his recent divorce. Nonetheless, the movie remains a creepy and mildly disturbing entry into the horror genre and further proof of the director’s genre mixing capabilities.

Rabid.

Being the earliest entry into the Cronenberg oeuvre I have seen, it also feels the most deliciously classic. The visceral money shots that pre-date his most well known films are right at home and in appropriately raw form. In the wake of a motorcycle crash, a young girl undergoes lifesaving experimental surgery that leaves her hungry for blood, which she sucks from other humans through a blunt proboscis located under her left armpit. Those that she bites turn rabid, foaming from the mouth with bloodshot eyes and a hunger for flesh. The film has the air of a zombie outbreak, although in this case started by innocent porn star Marilyn Chambers in the quaint Quebec countryside.

Rabid is a telling film in the avid work of Cronenberg. The dangers of medical experimentation are explored to extensive degrees and the wider impact clearly warned of. Yet in comparison to heavier films like Videodrome, it is relatively easy to sit back and enjoy. Evidence of the young state of his career, this film certainly paves the way, both thematically and visually, for what Cronenberg will be most remembered for. We see it here in the rampant flesh explosions as the rabid citizens are gunned down. We also are treated to the fleshy orifice from which the hematophagic plunger emerges. And while the film may not be the most technically developed of its kind, its inclusion in this particular oeuvre awards it more credibility than the slew of b-grade horror films that surround it.

Yet the place that most solidifies this film into Cronenberg’s body of work is in its warning. Similar to a host of his other films, Rabid bluntly exercises fear of the scientific experimentation from which the blood-thirsty girl is created and in turn infects a population. It is in the guise of help, to create a morphogenetically neutral piece of flesh that can replicate any other, that the doctor grafts her skin in an attempt to save her life. And while the potential for such a procedure is more than relevant and current, this case is marked by a severe and dramatic failure.

What Rabid is, then, is a tentatively shlocky yet important stepping-stone for Cronenberg. One cannot expect to arrive at the top, especially with the content and themes of films that are to follow. And just as relevant, and hinted above, the film would likely be a formulaic and perhaps forgettable horror entry if the commanding career of the director had not prospered (in a manner of speaking) as it has.