I suppose it’s difficult to review the American cut of “The
Grandmaster,” which is 22 minutes shorter than the Chinese version of
the movie, with scenes fussed with and hand-holding voiceover employed
to guide English-speaking audiences out of the fog of exposition and
atmosphere that’s commonplace to the work of director Wong Kar-wai. The
feature’s been simplified but hardly neutered, preserving lush
cinematography and skilled editing to the effort’s many sequences of
fighting, allowing great appreciation for the technical aspects of “The
Grandmaster” to remain. However, what was once an emotional ride of
human connection and the soulful lift of kung fu is now a streamlined
examination of conflicted man who would go on to train Bruce Lee in the
ways of Wing Chun.
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In the future, someone will unearth a copy of “The Lifeguard” and know
exactly what the state of indie film was in 2013. Slavish to cliché and
trends, the picture sums up the best and worst aspects of the HD
moviemaking scene, making for an unsteady viewing experience, positively
exasperating at times. The lone bright spot is Kristen Bell, who’s
allowed to holster her lackluster attempts to conquer the screen as a
comedienne, trying on a dark drama for size. The fit’s a little loose,
but the actress reveals impressive range with this challenging role,
helping to snap writer/director Liz W. Garcia out of the fog of
absurdity she seems determine to remain in.
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“The Frozen Ground” is exploitation disguised as a funeral. The
production claims the material is based on a true story concerning evil
acts committed by serial killer Robert Hansen throughout the 1970s, but
how much authenticity there is to the picture remains questionable, with
writer/director Scott Walker inching away from creating a tight
procedural to slurp up the salacious events of the story. Capable work
from stars Nicolas Cage and John Cusack are enough to keep tension
somewhat in play, while a supporting turn from Vanessa Hudgens reveals
previously unexplored depth. Despite positive attention from the cast,
“The Frozen Ground” is familiar, semi-eventful, and hampered by a weird
fixation on the ugly details.
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The career of director Renny Harlin has been a corkscrew ride of
quality, from wickedly entertaining actioners (“Die Hard 2,” “The Long
Kiss Goodnight”) to abysmal Z-grade schlock (“12 Rounds,” “The
Covenant”). He’s a helmer who’s never been shy about chasing trends,
leading him to the creation of “Devil’s Pass,” a found-footage horror
picture that’s about three years too late to truly cash in on the
moviegoing interests of young audiences. Harlin’s a capable genre
craftsman, but his predilection for tone-deaf performances and hokey
scare sequences steamrolls “Devil’s Pass” early and often. It’s not a
disaster, but just tedious enough to numb its positive attributes as the
feature drags to an overly ambitious conclusion.
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“Closed Circuit” doesn’t know what type of film it wants to be, and it
bears the marks of editorial indecision, where the original direction of
the story was whittled down to make the picture more palatable to a
wider audience. There are satisfactory elements contained within, with a
gifted ensemble working intently to make their performances stand out
in an increasingly absurd thriller. However, whatever promises of
quality and taste are made in the first half of the feature are
unfulfilled in the second half, where a passably intriguing legal drama
with some procedural heft is turned into a junky network television
pilot, complete with logic leaps and uninspired chases.
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Director Dito Montiel is a major fan of New York City. It’s been the
setting for all his pictures, and the helmer loves to infuse his work
with urban juices of bravado and street honor. For all his labor and
knowledge of the area, Montiel has yet to tell a story with any type of
encouraging success. With “A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints,”
“Fighting,” and “The Son of No One,” the filmmaker has summoned
tremendous passion and grit, but there’s always been a lack of
substance. “Empire State” adds to the nagging emptiness surrounding
Montiel’s screen efforts, only this tale of a heist gone wrong is more
streamlined, calculated to appeal to fans of the subgenre, and it still
shows no signs of life.
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Love it or hate it, “Clear History” is 100% Larry David. The mastermind
behind “Curb Your Enthusiasm” and “Seinfeld,” David’s DNA is all over
this production, which often plays like the most elaborate stand-up
comedy special ever filmed. Dripping with neurotic behavior, pained
observations, and non sequiturs, the picture is perhaps only of value to
die-hard David admirers — those who have minimal expectation for a
complete narrative. However, in the care of director Greg Mottola,
“Cleary History” doesn’t get bogged down in programmed shtick, retaining
a charming, occasionally uproarious silliness that keeps the movie
flowing along from one rant to the next.
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“You’re Next” isn’t a revolutionary slasher film. That it works so well
is a bit of a surprise, considering the staleness of the genre and how
familiar the working parts of the picture are. Credit goes to
screenwriter Simon Barrett and director Adam Wingard, who find a way to
refresh the slaughter of innocents for the big screen, with “You’re
Next” oozing tension while revealing an unexpected sense of humor,
managing to keep matters occasionally light as it masterminds some truly
heinous sequences. It’s a blast, perhaps best experienced with a
theater packed with horror fans — insiders already on the production’s
wavelength, able to appreciate the subtle twists of formula contained
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It’s been dubbed the “Three Flavours Cornetto Trilogy” (a cheeky nod to
the appearance of a special ice cream treat), but director Edgar Wright
has done an impressive job keeping these features separate in terms of
style and sense of humor. With “Shaun of the Dead” and “Hot Fuzz,” the
helmer fashioned a special tour of film fandom and genre exercises, but
all good things must come to end, and it does, somewhat abruptly with
“The World’s End.” Amusing and impeccably designed and photographed, the
latest work from Wright, Simon Pegg, and Nick Frost comes across a tad
undercooked, as though the creative team was backed into making a movie
instead of triumphantly mounting one. Although it has plenty of impish
intent, there’s an air of fatigue swirling around the production that
constantly hinders the comedic adventuring.
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It’s great to see something like “Drinking Buddies” make its way to
movie theaters. Especially in a day and age when most dramas pull their
punches, here’s a feature that’s decidedly human, trusting in the power
of internalization over the showmanship of melodrama. It’s an effort
that requires attention to tiny behavioral details, articulated by
actors contributing the best work of their careers, while director Joe
Swanberg keeps pace and maintains intimacy. It bruises and stings along
the way, but “Drinking Buddies” skillfully surveys the details of
friendships and longing, delivered in a messy, improvisational manner
that feels completely natural to the habitual hesitation at hand.
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There’s beauty to behold in the bizarrely titled “Ain’t Them Bodies
Saints,” which possesses a moviemaking mission to resuscitate a bygone
era of film construction that dwelled in mood and feeling, most
pointedly in the early work of Terrence Malick. It’s a quest shared by
many indie directors, but David Lowery (who also scripts) finds an
organic way of homage while detailing his own story of loss and longing,
employing an atmospheric sense of Texas culture to ease audiences into
this tone poem of a picture. Dramatically static but superbly assembled,
“Ain’t Them Bodies Saints” isn’t just an eye-crossing title, but a
warmly realized portrait of separation as therapy, appreciating all the
minor triumphs of maturation.
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“The Attack” asks very pointed questions about the nature of marriage
and the preservation of secrets in a romantic, intimate union. It’s a
film concerning the aftereffects of a suicide bombing in Tel Aviv, but
it doesn’t linger on the fury that traditionally follows these
sacrifices, electing to focus on those left behind to process the
mindset required to make such a diabolical personal choice. It’s a
harrowing picture with an interpretive ideological viewpoint that
develops sensational dramatic turns of plot. It’s certainly not easy to
digest, but the internal struggle director/co-writer Ziad Doueiri
isolates here is exceptional at times, giving the divisive topic the
meditative approach it deserves.
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It’s a given that “Rising from Ashes” succeeds at selling its
inspirational tale. After all, the story includes genocide survival, an
underdog saga, and a soulful rebirth in the form of unexpected
companionship, making the feature easy to fall for. It’s slight work,
without much in the way of a beginning and ending, but as a documentary
it scores with a heartfelt study of perseverance, watching those who
struggle every single day to contain their lives build confidence and
develop an alien sense of joy, with that purity of spirit contributing
to a sporting odyssey that’s more about human details than physical
achievement.
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We currently live in a “Harry Potter” and “Twilight” free world, with
both franchises closing up shop over the last few years, leaving
Hollywood in a mad dash to find the next big fantasy saga that could
uncover billions in box office returns over the course of numerous
sequels. There have been many failures (don’t expect a “Beautiful
Creatures 2”), but that won’t stop producers from giving the impossible a
go, with “The Mortal Instruments” saga from author Cassandra Clare the
next literary series up to bat. It’s difficult to surmise if the
faithful will fully accept the big screen interpretation, but it’s safe
to write that those who don’t have a clue about “The Mortal Instruments”
before viewing will know even less about the property on the way out of
the theater.
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