Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen (2009)

Usually, while watching a movie, one's mind is on just that - the movie. That wasn't the case with Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. While watching - or rather, while staring (the term "watching" implies a certain degree of active focus, which I'm not sure there was on my part) - I was compiling a mental list. It was a seemingly never-ending list, comprised of every mindless, utterly absurd concept that director Michael Bay presents in the film and, consequently, expects us to go for. I now present an abbreviated version of this list to you (chronologically, to eliminate the need to summarize its "plot"):

Michael Bay expects us to believe that:

1. Transformers have been secretly inhabiting Earth since 17000 BC
   
2. Transformers can smell other Transformers.
3. Transformers can speak a variety of dialects that includes gangsta, Italian mobster and Scotsman, and use phrases like "punk-ass Decepticon."
4. It would be a totally awesome idea to include two characters (the so-called "Twins") who are more racist than Jar Jar Binks, "Amos 'n' Andy" or even Michael Richards.
   
5. Cutting to a scene of two dogs fucking is perfectly acceptable during an action sequence.
   
6. Transformers can cry at the prospect of being left home when Shia LaBoeuf goes to college.
7. Shia LaBoeuf can go to college.
8. While at college, Shia LaBoeuf can maintain a long distance relationship with Megan Fox while using a web-cam.
9. Megan Fox actually knows how to use a web-cam, or a computer for that matter.
10. Shia LaBoeuf was ever able to win Megan Fox over in the first place.
11. Shia LaBoeuf's room at college, randomly placed, would contain him and three computer hackers.
12. Their dorm room can have a Mountain Dew machine in it.
13. The presence of a "Bad Boys II" poster in the dorm room (and the subsequent zoom-in close enough for us to see the credit "Directed by Michael Bay") was purely coincidental.
    
14. Anyone would ever own a "Bad Boys II" poster, much less display it.
    
15. College parties play bad remixes of Talking Heads songs, and people actually enjoy them.
16. Shia and the three computer hacker roommates would actually be allowed into a college party.
    
17. Shia LaBoeuf's mother in the film isn't mentally retarded.
18. Decepticons can pose as humans, and somehow manage to infiltrate a university as bodacious college girls to target Shia LaBoeuf.
19. John Turturro posts on websites created by college-age hackers under the alias "RoboWarrior."
20. The only job John Turturro could get after being dismissed from Sector 7 was working in a deli for his mother.
21. Of all of the thousands of soldiers in the U.S. military, Josh Duhamel and Tyrese Gibson would once again be at the center of the Transformer battle.
22. Despite having been fired from Sector 7, John Turturro still has a number of CIA and military numbers at his disposal, including, conveniently, Duhamel and Gibson.
23. Turturro could actually convince Duhamel and Gibson to spearhead a military operation in northeast Egypt to rescue Shia LaBoeuf that defies orders from the President - and somehow keep it all a secret.
    
24. The National Air and Space Museum is actually filled with old Decepticons.
25. Decepticons can simply defect to the Autobot side.
26. Decepticons, despite never having had the misfortune of encountering them in person, can automatically identify Shia LaBoeuf's parents and take them hostage to use as a trap.
    
27. There is a machine that can destroy the sun hidden in one of Egypt's Great Pyramids.
28. A group of Transformers destroying said pyramid and the surrounding villages could go virtually unnoticed by any of the world media.
29. The key used to activate the machine can also revive a dead Transformer.
30. Dead Transformers can be brought back to life.
31. The idea of a Transformer humping Megan Fox's leg is utterly hilarious.
32. Transformers have testicles.
33. Transformers can absorb the parts of other Transformers and heal themselves in a matter of minutes.
34. Shia LaBoeuf would actually want to lead the idiots that call themselves his parents to safety during a battle.
35. Farm animals wouldn't want to lead themselves to safety during the same battle, despite the presence of soldiers, guns and, oh yeah, Transformers.
    
36. There is a Transformer heaven.
37. Shia LaBoeuf, a human, could go to Transformer heaven.
38. Shia LaBoeuf can suddenly come back to life when Megan Fox says she loves him, but not after having been twice pumped by a defibrillator.
39. Making a third movie in this franchise is a good idea.

The first Transformers film did the unthinkable in lessening (albeit temporarily) my absolute loathing for Bay. Was it a great film? No. The plot was numbing, the dialogue laughable and the explosions were entirely excessive. But underneath it all, there was something about the first film that was at least semi-enjoyable.

But any good will he may have earned from the first movie has not only been pissed away - it's been pissed into a jar, sealed and punted to the bottom of the ocean. To call Revenge of the Fallen a bad movie would be being entirely too generous. It's too long, too loud and too clichéd in almost every aspect. It has an absolutely abysmal script and displays an overall level of incompetence that makes Heidi and Spencer seem like Rhodes scholars. There is not a single respectable filmmaking step taken throughout the entire 140-something minutes, while virtually every lamentable technique makes its way to the screen.

For example, look at the film's title: Revenge of the Fallen. Let's think of some possible questions you might ask going in. Who (or what) are the Fallen? What are they getting revenge for? And who are they getting revenge against?

So we sit back and watch, waiting for an explanation. More than an hour later, we still don't have any answers. And when we find out, we realize that it all has something to do with a brief ice age sequence Bay serves up at the beginning of the movie. It turns out the Fallen is just ONE Transformer, and he started a civil war between the Autobots and the Decepticons 17,000 years ago - during that same ice age. You start to wonder why Bay and writers Alex Kurtzman and Roberto Orci didn't give us any insight into this at the beginning, and then it hits you: had they done that, there wouldn't have been enough time to add another explosion or 5,000 into the mix. Or, more specifically, for Bay to be Bay.

What is Bay being Bay? More than just a KABOOM-tracker, this underlying technique manifests itself in a variety of different guises. In one form, he'll present an idea that's actually sort of interesting (like Decepticons that can disguise themselves as humans) and then abandon it altogether in favor of pushing ahead with several less-interesting concepts. In another incarnation, he'll dumb down the idea of comic relief to the point at which it becomes completely intolerable (for example, look at LaBoeuf's mother, who might be the single least amusing role in movie history). In another, it's giving Orci and Kurtzman the go-ahead on virtually any inane idea they put to paper - whether it's the introduction of the Twins or the idea to actually allow one of them to survive after nearly being eaten by the giant Transformer that almost looks ripped off from Cloverfield. Although, frankly, I'm pretty sure Bay could find some sort of distorted potential if the duo presented him a story about a talking puddle of vomit, as long as it contained the requisite number of explosions.

And what's really sad about all this is that, in watching the film, or attempting to, you get the idea that Bay's actually enjoying himself. Through all of this inanity, he clearly thinks he's made a good movie. You can tell because the formula hasn't changed a bit from the beginning of his career until now. From Pearl Harbor, to Bad Boys II to The Island and now, with Revenge of the Fallen, Michael Bay's modus operandi has waged this war on respectable entertainment. The more he enjoys his movies, the worse they get.

I'll ask you now to step back and think for a second. Think of something really, unbearably annoying - not horrible, but enough to drive you crazy if exposed to it for enough time. NASCAR racing, chalk scratching on a blackboard, Jon & Kate gossip, or maybe a neighbor mowing his lawn at 8 a.m. on a Sunday morning. You get the idea...

Now take all of the ideas you came up with and mash them together, and subject yourself to this new horror. Excruciating? Yes. Painful? Maybe. But no matter what you came up with, it's still better than sitting through this heaping pile of garbage. Worst film of the decade? More like one of the worst films ever made. You can quote me on it.

The Great Escape (1963)

Oddly enough, one of the first things you consider while watching The Great Escape has nothing to do with the movie itself. It's most likely because there are so few flaws in the film, but as it unfolds, you actually start think of other overblown, less successful war movies. We all know these - the ones that rely on their subject matter alone for their acclaim, instead of actual filmmaking merit. In many cases, they're successful films, but nowhere near as good as the masses claim. The Great Escape outshines them all for two primary reasons:

First, it doesn't take itself too seriously. Yes, there's a story, and yes, it's based on actual events, but neither the cast nor the crew felt the need to over-dramatize anything. We see the prisoners working feverishly to accomplish their tasks, suffering setbacks along the way, but we also see our fair share of comic relief to make it all more relatable. It's a war movie, but it's also great fun - which sets it apart from most of its other genre counterparts.

Secondly, as an ensemble piece, it treats war as it's meant to be treated - a team affair, rather than a chance for stars to shine. Though Steve McQueen gets top billing as Virgil Hilts, he doesn't factor into the story any more than James Garner, or Richard Attenborough do in their roles. Director John Sturges gives us a group of successful performances in not very demanding roles. It's one of the film's biggest successes, and it mirrors the workmanlike nature of the story. (If any one of them can be called a "star" here, it's Charles Bronson as claustrophobic tunnel king Danny Velinski.)

Don't be put off by the nearly-three-hour run time; The Great Escape will fly right by. It's one of the best war movies you'll ever see, and certainly a film that demands repeat viewing.

3 stars out of 4

Star Trek (2009)

There are three things you need to know about Star Trek - it's big, it's exciting and, most importantly, it's a lot of fun. Let's face it, it's the first enjoyable summer popcorn flick of 2009 (sorry, Wolverine). More importantly, it successfully reboots a long stagnant franchise for a new generation (pardon the pun). You have to ask: could anyone have engineered this rebirth as successfully as J.J. Abrams? For nearly all of its 43-year existence - all ten previous films and seven TV series - the franchise was largely a subcultural (read: nerd-based) phenomenon. Under Abrams (Lost, Mission: Impossible III), this film goes where no Star Trek has gone before: the realm of pop-culture cool.

To start, the film looks amazing. The visuals are nothing short of breathtaking; be it the jellyfish-esque space ship of Romulan villain Nero (Eric Bana) or the sequences of destruction he wreaks upon planet Vulcan, one thing is clear: the effects have finally caught up with us from the 1970s. Another point of success is the acting. Abrams's team of mostly lesser-knowns turns in a group of effective performances in not particularly demanding roles. Kudos to Chris Pine (Kirk), Zachary Quinto (Spock) and Simon Pegg (Quinto) in particular.

Unfortunately, the film's problems lie in its script. The story stumbles at times, and is rife with sci-fi clichés. Given the "origins" nature of the film, one can forgive writers Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman, though their previous work on Transformers may make one wary of any future involvement here. However, in watching, you get the impression that sequels will only improve the franchise. Star Trek is still an enjoyable film and a really exhilarating experience. Give it a better script next time around, and we can be sure Abrams' vision will, in fact, live long and prosper.

2.5 stars out of 4

I'm back! With a new format!

Hey all!

Just gotten back from school for the summer, and you know what that means: Ahh, Cinema... is back up and running!

However, I'll be writing in a different format for my reviews. Everything will be shorter - 2 or 3 paragraphs. I'm cutting plot summary, because a lot of the movies are older movies anyway and summarizing the plot of a 30-year-old movie everyone's already seen (like The Godfather) just seems a bit pointless. Apologies for the new movies, but this format is going to be universal as far as this blog is concerned. Though that might change; we'll see.

Anyway, look for my first review of the summer in a little while. Hope you'll keep up!

-Dan

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008)

In some ways, people will already have seen The Curious Case of Benjamin Button before the film even begins rolling. We have a protagonist misunderstood for his differences which, along with a diverse ensemble of characters, help shape his life, and a struggle with love for "the one that got away." Sound familiar? Sounds a bit like 1994's Forrest Gump to me.

It comes as little surprise, since screenwriter Eric Roth penned both scripts. But his efforts with Button yield more satisfying results. Why?

Having David Fincher direct certainly doesn't hurt. But this time around, Roth re-worked previously-written material, in this instance a lesser-known short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald. The original Benjamin Button wasn't so much a story as it was a labor, a disappointingly sardonic look at a truly interesting concept - being born old and growing younger with the passage of time.

Here, the recycled elements of Gump have helped create an adaptation that surpasses its original inspiration. Every character is vital to the protagonist's life, resulting in a story that becomes less a chore than a joy to soak up. The film affords each star its shining moment, (even Cate Blanchett!) and makes the story's three-hour run time breeze right by.

Perhaps the biggest reason for that is one of the film's strongest aspects (and the first we notice), its artistic merit. Benjamin Button is one of the most visually stunning movies you'll ever see. We all know going in of the monumental task it faced in presenting the wonders of aging (or is it timelessness?), and they've succeeded resoundingly in that respect. But even more impressive is the scene construction; each one as vivid and beautiful as the last. You're not just watching for three hours, but experiencing this story.

Few scenes achieve the same visual quality as the opener, the night of Benjamin's (Brad Pitt) birth in 1918. Born on the night World War I ends, Benjamin's aforementioned condition sees him promptly abandoned by his father (his mother dies in childbirth) and left with nursing home attendant Queenie (Taraji P. Henson). His early life sees a myriad of different encounters - from a ship captain who gives him his first real job to a resident of the nursing home whose sole purpose seems to be for comic relief, discussing the seven times he's been struck by lightning.

But despite their varying degrees of apparent significance, the characters each provide a vital aspect of the story: the lessons they give to Benjamin inspired by their experiences with him. As Pitt ages (or, rather, grows younger - either way it's astounding to watch), the messages grow more profound, and every character contributes at some level.

It might be Elizabeth Abott (Tilda Swinton), who gives Benjamin his first kiss and, 30-odd years later, reminds him that anything is possible in life; it might also be his father Tom (Jason Flemyng), whose actions teach Benjamin that any and all anger must be let go and forgotten at some point. What hits hard is the casual nature in which the majority of these lessons are delivered - almost as mild banter between friends, since Benjamin never reveals his true age and condition.

Except to his childhood friend Daisy (Cate Blanchett). Her relationship with Benjamin is sort of like Jenny's with Gump; you want it to happen, but it doesn't seem likely. And then it happens.

But for all the build-up, their relationship ends up becoming a bit of a downer. Blanchett and Pitt excel throughout the movie except, strangely, in their scenes together. At its core, the movie is a love story, yet the romantic elements end up being the weakest of any in the movie. Poor? Certainly not - and things definitely improve as the movie goes on. But you'd expect them to feel a bit more natural.

At some point in the 1960's - just after the Beatles play Ed Sullivan and just before the horrendous fashion trends we see emerging in the latter part of the decade - Benjamin and Daisy hit equilibrium. She's gotten old enough and he's gotten young enough for them to be at the same level, and things appear perfect for them. And even with the apparent lack of chemistry between the two, Pitt and Blanchett still manage to convey that element of the sublime, that point at which we feel anything is possible.

That's basically the essence of the movie, though. In an awards season filled with historical representations (Milk, Frost/Nixon) or thinking-man's movies (Doubt, The Dark Knight), this movie is the escape we so desperately need. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button may have a simple lesson, but it is far from a simple film. It's a magical journey - a true triumph in a year that gave us so many duds. It's beautiful, it's uplifting and - pardon the pun - it's timeless.

3.5 stars out of 4

American Beauty (1999)

What is it about American Beauty that so effectively launches the film to greatness?

Is it the stunning performances? The resounding successes of both a first-time writer and director? Or is it a rare melding of drama and comedy that is successful enough to make us laugh, cringe and cry in the same film? The answer? All of the above and none of the above.

Those qualities certainly don't hurt, but arguably the greatest asset of American Beauty is the fact that the situations it presents are so familiar to us all. Not necessarily in the sense of developing attractions to our teenage children's best friends, but in the omnipresence of internal discord - the underlying Yeatsian philosophy of things falling apart.

Its protagonist, Lester Burnham (Kevin Spacey), is someone we all know at some level. He works for a magazine and lives in a nice house in a typical suburban community with his wife and daughter. Nine times out of 10, this would be considered a happy life, but here, as Lester's quick to alert us, it's all a facade. He's hit a dead-end in his career, his wife Carolyn (Annette Bening) no longer truly loves him and his daughter Jane (Thora Birch) has grown to resent his very presence.

"In a way, I'm dead already," he says during the film's introduction, shortly before proceeding to masturbate during a shower. Desperate times, indeed, but things aren't much better for anyone else around him. His wife's real-estate career is also floundering. His ex-Marine new next-door neighbor (Chris Cooper) worries for his son's (Wes Bentley) well-being.

These sorts of things happen all the time around us, often without our knowing, often masked by a similar facade to that of the Burnhams. American Beauty takes them all together and makes them not just apparent to us, but indeed our focal point - rendering them all the more powerful. And give director Sam Mendes credit; he corrals an A-list cast perfectly so that their personae don't overwhelm each other, but instead all stay believable in their own right. (Not bad for a guy who'd only directed London theater before this.)

That's the first act.

In the second, the Burnham family takes a turn for the better. Carolyn raises her spirits by beginning an affair with one of her biggest real estate rivals (Peter Gallagher). Jane starts seeing the Marine's son. Out of darkness comes light, one might say.

And no one gets more light than Lester. After developing an unhealthy obsession with Jane's friend Angela (Mena Suvari), his whole life is transformed. He not only quits his job, but also threatens to blackmail his former bosses. He buys a vintage Pontiac Firebird. He starts working out regularly and, almost contradictorily, smoking weed again for the first time since college.

The family crisis still remains, but rather than a source of strain, it becomes a source of utter hilarity as Spacey plunges Lester into new depths of hilarity and ridicule. Lester's fantasies with Angela become more and more vivid, and his masturbation transitions to the bedroom, but Spacey's charisma through it all is astounding - enough to carry the whole movie on its back.

It's not just the effects that shock us, but the causes as well. As Lester transitions from pushover to rebel, we experience one of two phenomena: we either start to see ourselves in him or we start to wish we could. For those of us lucky enough to have developed his new level of vitality, the movie is a parallel to our own lives; for those of us who haven't, it's a kick-start.

This gives the movie a real sense of gusto, but also makes its conclusion all the more shocking. By the end, we don't just watch these characters; we feel them. American Beauty is truly excellent - a movie that finds triumph in tumult, one that covers the entire range of the emotional spectrum in doing so. Don't just watch this one; cherish it.

4 stars out of 4

Blazing Saddles (1974)

A funny thing occurred to me while watching Mel Brooks' 1974 acknowledged comedy classic Blazing Saddles, right around the scene where Sheriff Bart (Cleavon Little), still trying to find his way around the town of Rock Ridge, attempts to greet an elderly woman in town. (Her response: "piss off, n***er") At some point, it'll strike you that all of Brooks' films - whether good, bad or somewhere in the middle - contain the same brand of effected, almost forced, humor.

In Young Frankenstein, it might be Igor's command to Frankenstein to (quite literally) "walk this way." In Robin Hood: Men in Tights, just pick a joke: whether Ahchoo's hip-hop sequence or Maid Marian's Everlast chastity belt. Hell, he even makes reference to Blazing Saddles at one point! Brooks uses these sorts of routines so much that they ultimately belittle his comedic gravitas.

But what we realize with Brooks is that, with all of his jokes being made in a similar manner, it's really not the humor by which his films must be judged; it's the individual storylines and, more importantly, how successfully he weaves the humor into them.

And by that notion, Blazing Saddles really isn't a great film. Sure, you'll get your chuckles; I certainly got mine. And, yes, its handling of racial prejudices so shortly after the civil rights movement is a great source of comedy, probably one of the reasons it's viewed as a classic.

When you look at it a bit closer, though, there's not much of a story. Rather, it's a series of smaller events that build upon eachother and ultimately lead to, well...nothing. The conclusion really doesn't follow the events of the rest of the movie. Its sheer randomness is akin to watching an episode of "Family Guy." Or the middle third of The Shining.

It starts with conniving Attorney General Hedley Lamarr (Harvey Korman) attempting to buy the town of Rock Ridge to destroy it and use the land for a railroad. The citizens, outraged, demand that their governor (Mel Brooks) send them a sheriff to maintain order and prevent their town's destruction. The sheriff is Bart (Cleavon Little), an African-American whom the 1874 Old West town predictably takes its time to warm up to. Hence, "piss off, n***er!"

The conflict is between Lamarr and Bart, and honestly can hardly be called a conflict at all. It's basically a series of cheap pranks, if you think about it: Lamarr tries to pull a fast one on Bart; Bart responds and turns the situation in his favor. Over, and over, and over.

Yes, you'll get your giggles, whether from Gene Wilder's "Waco Kid" (who "killed more men than Cecil B. DeMille!") or Madeline Kahn's Lili Von Shtüpp, a German chanteuse oddly reminiscent of Cloris Leachman's Frau Blücher. But the laughs never really amount to much because they're never quite given a solid context to fit into. As a result, the movie feels a bit stale before you've even reached the halfway point.

Don't get me wrong; I can see why Blazing Saddles is so well-loved. For its time, it's great; it has its place in history as a sort of building block toward the raunchy modern comedy of today. But in the end, it can't be judged as anything more than that.

2 stars out of 4