“Heartless” exists purely in visual terms. It’s an art project not meant to be understood or interpreted, but merely gawked at, with the filmmaker in question, Philip Ridley, creating a swirling, vicious depiction of grief and madness, heading in abstract directions that are easily appreciated but rarely satisfying. It’s a wicked film with convincing nightmarish imagery, but there’s no story here to cling to, making this abyss of torment rather easy to disregard.
In 2003, Sofia Coppola wrote and directed the indie smash, “Lost in Translation.” An ode to pains of attraction and the loneliness of fame, the picture hit commanding emotional and stylistic chords as it established an enchanting sense of fading melancholy. “Somewhere” is an aesthetic cousin, again traveling through the glittery void with famous people sinking deeper than they realize, finding salvation in companionship and unspoken affections. As to be expected with a director essentially repeating herself, the results are considerably less poignant, with Coppola forgoing the challenge of developing emotional bonds to wallow in a tedious world of Hollywood superficiality.
One has to accept “The Resident” as it is, otherwise there’s just no fun to be had. A mindless horror/chiller that preys upon numerous single lady fears, the picture is generally well crafted and supplies a few satisfying jolts. Logic and editing aren’t the movie’s best friends, but accepted as a modest creep-out with a few semi-salacious touches and “The Resident” delivers the icks and scares, permitting star Hilary Swank a chance to relax her intense method approach and explore her lung power.
“I Love You Phillip Morris” is a tricky film to decipher. Garnering unnecessary attention for its homosexual content, the picture is actually more of a fleet-footed con artist valentine, paying reverence to a master of deception, Steven Jay Russell. A comedic excursion into the limits of personal freedom and the miracle of love, the picture is a skilled effort of constant surprise, led wonderfully by Jim Carrey, who gives a blessedly respectful performance that mingles pleasingly with laughs and shock.
“Hobo with a Shotgun” started life as a faux trailer used to help promote the 2007 release of the Robert Rodriguez/Quentin Tarantino extravaganza, “Grindhouse.” It probably should’ve remained as a kitschy, grimy celebration of scratchy B-movie promotion. Since iffy internet jokes never seem to die peacefully anymore, we now have a feature-length version of “Hobo with a Shotgun,” and the upgrade is mostly unbearable camp disguised as hip homage, splattered with enough blood and guts to distract from a cinematically empty reality, with director Jason Eisener declaring screen war without any notable scripted ideas.
Personally, I harbor no romantic feelings for the 1981 Dudley Moore sleeper smash, “Arthur.” Distractingly clunky, the feature is best appreciated as a film of its time, when a mainstream comedy could be built around the antics of monstrous alcoholic and still be regarded as adorable. It’s strange to be confronted with a remake of such beloved material, which still holds to a clownish boozehound mentality to acquire laughs, though much of the overt foam has been shaved away out of respect for the disease. Then again, Moore made “Arthur 2: On the Rocks,” so perhaps the character isn’t as precious as I recall. Remake away, boys.
“Your Highness” doesn’t have to be a smart comedy, but a little effort is always appreciated. A feast for the eyes, the picture doesn’t have much of a funny bone, electing to stage puerile stoner humor as a way to fully pants the sword and sorcery genre. The objective is clear as day, but that doesn’t make this parade of obscenities and sex jokes any funnier. And to think, director David Gordon Green was once a major force for independent cinema. Now he’s overseeing the fine details of a rubber Minotaur penis. Hooray for Hollywood.
“Oregon Trail: The Movie” is a crude way to describe “Meek’s Cutoff,” but it’s an apt comparison. Writer/director Kelly Reichardt endeavors to pull the viewer into the hardscrabble slog of the settler, crossing endless terrain with oxen and wagons, always on a desperate hunt for supplies and water. However, “Oregon Trail” was just a game with a reset function. “Meek’s Cutoff” is austere and unforgiving — frankly, it’s as close to prairie reality as I care to get.
“13 Assassins” is like watching a protracted chess game with an exquisite final move. It’s a samurai tale of allegiances and vengeance, and while its violent, blood-spattered path is engrossing, the film makes a considerable effort to slow cook the set-up, making the road to death’s door something significant, moving away from empty stylistics to stage a film of icy warrior valor.
“Miral” is a film of many themes, characters, and stories, though it desires to be a singular vision of history. Chaotically arranged by director Julian Schnabel, the film is an uninvolving mess, though a thoughtfully composed jumble of emotions and time periods ambitiously reaching for a distressing screen poeticism it never achieves.
Currently, we’re in the throes of a Hollywood obsession to bring fairy tales to the big screen. It’s a fad that’s years away from peaking, leaving the sneaky triumph of “Hanna” all the more bewitching. It’s not exactly “Snow White” or “Alice in Wonderland,” but a weird, swirling amalgamation of the Grimm Brothers’ catalog, sharpened to Ginsu standards by the Euro sensibilities of director Joe Wright. Think of a fantastical storybook odyssey crossed with “The Bourne Identity,” and you’ll have a slightly accurate read of the moviegoing pleasures of this surreal, neck-snapping revenge escapade.
The idea of a motion picture built around the rehabilitation efforts of a chirpy teen, with pronounced Christian messages to boot, doesn’t exactly promise a searing portrait of determination at the edge of catastrophe. Thankfully, “Soul Surfer” has an astonishing event to work with, dramatizing the incredible true story of Bethany Hamilton, a 13-year-old girl who faced an unimaginable test of survival, surrounded by her loving family, her faith, and tasty waves beckoning the surfer girl back to the spot of her greatest misfortune.
“Of Gods and Men” explores that unsettled psychological space between duty and survival. It’s a static, introspective picture, lingering on moments of thought and concern, eschewing an ambitious staging of political conflict to huddle close to deliberation, taking in the intensity of the room with a group of men not accustomed to expressing their doubt.
Writer/director Thomas McCarthy has made a name for himself through the delivery of rich characterizations, using formulaic plots to help establish the mood while developing three-dimensional personalities set loose inside a turbulent event of emotions. “Win Win” is generally more of the same from the filmmaker, though it suffers from a lopsided execution, struggling to stabilize dramatic footing with this fascinating group of lost souls. It’s a pleasant film with marvelous performances, but it loses a great deal of stamina in the second half once McCarthy succumbs to predictability.
“Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows” is at least 1/2 of a proper conclusion. The seventh book in author J.K. Rowling’s wizard phantasmagoria, “Deathly Hallows” has been chopped into two feature films to capture the full lung capacity of the material, and perhaps yank some additional revenue along the way. But that’s cynicism, and there’s nothing cynical about this gorgeously crafted, perilous journey with three heroes who’ve grown up before our eyes over the last decade, iconically repelling evil with the support of a miraculous, focused production team. The first half of this final battle is a tonally unstoppable creature, blessed with a startling sense of stamina and grandeur to support the epic tale of a boy wizard facing a dire journey towards manhood.
Most modern Thai films that have successfully navigated their way to American shores are either relentless Muay Thai bruisers or sensitive cultural dramas. “Vanquisher” is just a run-of-the-mill actioner, pieced together with very little money and starring “Explosive Martial Arts Star” Sophita Sriban — though your friend and mine, the internet, dredges up very little information about this woman. Perhaps this is for the best.
“Soul Surfer” (opening in theaters on April 8th) recounts the amazing true story of surfer Bethany Hamilton (played in the film by AnnaSophia Robb), who survived a horrific shark attack, losing her left arm at the age of 13 but not her will to continue life on idyllic Hawaiian waves. It’s a story of perseverance, faith, and family, capturing a teenage girl as she faces an extraordinary situation with a shockingly sound mind. Recently, I had the chance to speak with Hamilton (now 21 years old) about her experience with the film and her life beyond the waves.
We’ve been down this road before. Watching the average frustrated citizen suit up and fight real-world crime isn’t a novel idea, with recent entries “Kick-Ass” and “Defendor” working similar routines, even dating back to a 1980 John Ritter film, “Hero at Large.” To make “Super” something unusual, writer/director James Gunn has infused the film with wild serio-comic spirit, drawing from his years making schlock for Troma to shape a superhero lampoon that’s too horrific to be a comedy, and not serious enough to register as sincere. It’s a middling, puzzling picture that doesn’t offer a secure point of view to make its mischief useful.
BRIAN ORNDORF 