SXSW Review: The Innkeepers

With only a few features (we’ll forget Cabin Fever 2) Ti West has made a mark for himself as a horror director with a unique sensibility. His House of the Devil (2009) was a movie drenched in a mood of lurking doom that remained hidden, building tension so gradual as to be almost imperceptible, until it eventually exploded into violence and overwhelming horror. For his follow up feature Ti West applies that structure to a film that nevertheless manages to feel quite distinct from Devil in tone and mood.

The Yankee Pedlar is an historic inn that has seen better days. Now on its final weekend, it is left in the care of two of its lowly staff. Luke (Pat Healy) is content to spend the weekend catching as much sleep as possible in one of the empty rooms and maintaining his website devoted to the mysterious, supernatural occurrences that supposedly take place within the walls of the Pedlar. Claire (Sara Paxton) is a bit more anxious to explore, to discover whether she can make contact with those spirits, one of who is the ghost of a bride who, after her fiancée’s betrayal, killed herself. Armed with a tape recorder, Claire sets out to record evidence of these strange phenomena in order to solve the old building’s long-buried mysteries and to keep herself awake through the night shift.

It’s interesting that, like many a horror fan, I have long considered “the jump scare” to be a tactic used exclusively for cheap thrills, more a jolt than a scare, which forgoes mood in order to get a rise out of the audience. Two horror films at SXSW forced me to reconsider this attitude, as The Innkeepers, following closely on the heels of James Wan’s Insidious, utilizes jump scares to great effect. Even more surprisingly is that Innkeepers features the kind that I hate the most: the “fake-out,” where a startling noise turns out to just be an innocuous animal or person. The reason that it works so well in this context is that West is meticulous in building his mood. A detractor of this film could easily claim that “nothing happens” for the majority of the film’s runtime. The long static shots of largely empty spaces that dominate the film’s runtime could become repetitive if one is not on the film’s wavelength. For my part, the slow pace of the first 75% of the film constitutes an extraordinary mood of creeping dread, so gradual as to be nearly unnoticeable. The possibility of horrors lurking in every corridor and corner, the sense of mounting unease, similar to the one achieved in House of the Devil

That isn’t to say that the film is one note. On the contrary, the film is often quite funny. The playful relationship between Claire and Luke keeps the tone surprisingly light; when the film isn’t scaring the hell out of you it is building a dynamic between the two that feels real and contributes greatly to the emotional impact of what transpires at the end. Both Sara Paxton and Luke Healy turn in solid performances, selling the fact that these people are very comfortable around each other as friends, while also hinting at hidden depths to the relationship which come into play in unexpectedly poignant ways in the latter third of the film. Special mention must also be made of Kelly McGillis, playing a washed up old actress who is one of the only other occupants of the hotel during its last weekend. She has a hidden purpose at the hotel, and the way that her connection to the supernatural occurrences is revealed provides another element of satisfying mystery to the film.

Much like House of the Devil, the film trades in its slow burn effectiveness for a full-on assault at the end. To my mind it works even better in this film. Devil was a lot of (very well-done) set up, but the pay off was so sudden that it was over before you knew what to really make of it. The Innkeeper’s long wind up leads to a more sustained release, as the film kicks into a high gear so intense that it was almost too much to take, before down-shifting into an epilogue that is suitably spooky and surprisingly emotional. Moreso than Devil, West invests us in his characters here, making us care about them and hoping that they survive. It is an encouraging sign of continued growth from the director, a sign that he is indeed one of the more unique and interesting horror filmmakers working today.

Review: Sucker Punch

Sucker Punch proves one thing once and for all: Zack Snyder is a madman. In addition to being one of the most visually gifted storytellers to emerge in the past twenty years, Snyder has something of a fevered imagination. This was allowed to shine in 300 due to Frank Miller’s insanely heightened story, but was more subdued for Watchmen where Snyder was beholden (sometimes to a fault) to the vision of Alan Moore. Here, working for the first time from his own script, he holds nothing back, filling the frame with so much stylized, geek fetish imagery as to completely overwhelm the senses. Whether or not that is a good thing is subject to much debate, however.

Sucker Punch begins with Babydoll being imprisoned in a mental institution by her wicked stepfather after he frames her for the murder of her younger sister. She won’t be an issue, assures head orderly Blue (Oscar Isaac), because in just a few days a specialist will come to lobotomize her. There is a Doctor there (Carla Guigno) who plays music for the inmates in an attempt to help them escape this harsh reality. Just before the Specialist (Jon Hamm) is about to drive the needle into her skull, Babydoll imagines herself in a different kind of prison, a brothel, where she and her friends are captive to Blue (now a pimp) and Madame Gorski, who teaches them how to dance in order to seduce the male clientele. In five days the High Roller will come for Babydoll, so she and her allies must forge a plan to escape, which involve escaping into yet another fantasy realm, where they must accomplish various tasks like getting a map from a Zombie German WWI soldier or slaying a baby dragon. Aided by a helpful older man (Scott Glenn), the girls must try and fight for their survival.

If that synopsis seems a little bit nuts, you have no idea. This film is utterly unhinged from anything that we might call “objective reality.” The third level of strange dreamscapes is filled to the brim with touchstones of geek culture. You’ve got zombies (of sorts), dragons, robots, samurai, samurai holding GIANT BAZOOKAS, mech-suits and more. At first glance it would seem that Snyder has simply vomited up all of his influences, all his little obsessions and fetishes and smeared them on the screen. There is no doubt to me that Snyder does find all of this overwhelmingly awesome, and at moments I’m inclined to agree with him: The first dreamscape in which Babydoll faces off against 10-foot tall samurai while Bjork’s “Army of Me” blares in the background is breathtaking in it’s awesomeness, as is the one shot sequence aboard a train as our heroes decimate an army of robots. However, it does become a bit much at some point, leaving the viewer feeling drained as one “badass” moment is piled on top of another. There are other problems as well. Characters are thinly drawn, more types than anything else and the dialogue is alternately purple and insipid. Snyder doesn’t linger on those too long however, throwing us always into the next spectacle.

Although there are many self-consciously “cool” moments, is there anything else? Snyder has often fended off criticism that his films are the epitome of “all style, no substance.” While I feel this criticism is a bit unfair, I certainly see where it is coming from. However, I think that as far as Sucker Punch is concerned that criticism isn’t applicable. One could most certainly argue that the style overwhelms the substance, but there is definitely something larger at work within this film than “Ninjadragongatlinggun.” Snyder is exploring (or trying to at least) the exploitation of women by men and the possibility of their escape from that sort of exploitation. All the men in the film are thoroughly despicable creatures, driven to murder, rape or otherwise violate and exploit these women. The only exception is Scott Glenn’s character, a wise old man who exists to give the women their mission objectives and dispense hilariously unhelpful advice (“Never write a check with your mouth that you can’t cash with your ass”). In the first two realities, the women are given few options other than being forced to do erotic danced or rotting away in a mental institution. So what of the fantasy dreamscapes? As these girls fight their way through these worlds, dressed in skimpy outfits to look like every female video-game character ever, are they empowering themselves? Or are they putting on another show, one now for the heavily male-dominated geek audience who revel in these sorts of spectacles in films, comic books and videogames? Crucially, this last level of reality is revealed to us every time Babydoll does her seductive dance for a patron of the brothel. Perhaps Snyder is arguing that by explicitly taking control, whether of their sexuality in the brothel or of a mech suit and machine guns in the fantasy world, these women can empower themselves and escape their hellish, male-dominated surroundings. Or perhaps he’s being more pessimistic, suggesting that no matter how hard they struggle to escape harsh reality they are still under control of men, always playing their games by their rules.

Or perhaps Snyder isn’t aware of any of this. Maybe he’s unaware of any sort of subtext the film might hold. Maybe he just wants an excuse to show us all those things he would seem to be condemning. Directorial intent is not my concern, however. I’m concerned with what’s on the screen and what’s is on the screen in Sucker Punch is something of a marvel, an $85 million big studio film that is also a fascinating tangle of ideas about issues of female empowerment. I’m thrilled that a film this interesting and this flawed has been released on 3000+ screens. I’m thrilled that one man was allowed to express himself totally using the budgetary and marketing might of the studio system. If it happened like this more often Hollywood would be a better place.

Sucker Punch is a film that left me reeling with a multitude of conflicting feelings and thoughts. So much doesn’t work at all, and yet I keep returning to what does work and how idiosyncratic this whole effort is. Don’t let the overly dismissive critical notices fool you; this is a film worth seeing for yourself to make up your own mind. There’s an even chance that you’ll hate it, but if it works at all for you then it will work in a big way. If it’s a failure then here’s hoping to more failures like this one.

SXSW Review: Source Code

Duncan Jones exploded on the scene with 2009’s Moon, a quiet and affecting indie sci-fi film that explored the loneliness of a man (Sam Rockwell) stationed on a mining base on the moon for five years. There was a twist of sorts, but it came early in the film and the rest of the runtime was devoted to exploring the implications of that plot turn. It was handsomely shot and elevated immeasurably by Clint Mansell’s score and Rockwell’s astounding performance. Now two years later, Duncan Jones has returned with his sophomore effort, a project that he took as more or less a director-for-hire gig. The resulting film is a mixed bag, demonstrating Jones’ ample talents in the service of a messy script.

Captain Colter Stevens (Jake Gyllenhaal) wakes up on a train with no recollection of how he got there. He meets a woman (Michelle Monaghan) who seems to know him by a different name and the ID in his wallet identifies him as someone else entirely. Before he can discover what is going on the train violently explodes. Capt. Stevens then awakes in a metallic chamber, where he is strapped in to some sort of console. He is informed by a military contact (Vera Farmiga) on a video monitor that he is in “the Source Code”, a program that allows someone to relive the last eight minutes of another person’s life. A bomb has detonated on a train earlier in the day and they are intent on catching the bomber before he strikes again. To this end they send Capt. Stevens in again and again, in the hopes that he can determine the identity of the bomber. As he ventures over and over into the Source Code, Stevens slowly comes to realize more about the nature of the operation he’s on and his true mission.

Source Code boasts an intriguing premise with a great central hook, sort of like Groundhog Day meets Déjà Vu. And for the first 75% of the film it works like gangbusters. Jones does a great job of keeping the audience guessing at the mysteries of the film. Each time Capt. Stevens returns to the Source Code there is something different about the scenario he faces and it is a pleasure discovering the secrets that the film has in store for us. Jones also brings a light touch to the proceedings; the film is surprisingly funny at moments and it admirably shies away from being too self serious. The cast is game, and Gyllenhaal in particular impresses in a way that he hasn’t been able to recently, selling us the character’s frustration with his situation and his determination to escape this dilemma. Vera Farmiga gives a terrific and understated performance, quietly letting the audience in on he mounting dissatisfaction with the mission as it reaches its conclusion. Even a last minute change of heart from her character feels much less jarring than it might on the page because of her subtle acting.

The script is really where the problems for this movie start. Some of the characters fall flat, some due to underwritten parts (Monaghan has little to no purpose) or due to hammy overacting (Jeffrey Wright chews as much scenery as he can in his role as the creator of the Source Code). Also, due to the nature of the sci-fi conceit, we’re never quite clear on what the stakes are. We are told that there will be another detonation in a city, but since we spend 90% of our time in the Source Code that threat seems removed from the main action of the film. Furthermore, Stevens’ continued attempts to stop the bomb from detonating on the train lack resonance because, as we are told repeatedly, the train has already exploded. The Source Code is just a projection, so nothing that the Captain does has any bearing on reality as we know it.

That particular problem wouldn’t even be an issue if the film had stuck the course of where it seemed to be going thematically. Much like Moon there is a “twist” of sorts midway through and, also like Moon, the film takes this an opportunity to delve further into its sci-fi themes. I was thrilled when the twist arrived because suddenly the film’s connection to Moon became much clearer and it was interesting to view the film within the context of Jones’ growing body of work. It all builds to an ending that is satisfying on a narrative level and is consistent with what we have been told thus far. However, that isn’t the actual end of the film. Instead we get another ten minutes or so in which we are rewarded with a cheap, Hollywood ending where “all is right with the world.” It doesn’t make any sense given what we know about the mechanics of the Source Code and it feels cheap, swapping a thought-provoking finale for warmed-over, second hand sentiment.

Until that lackluster finale, Source Code distinguishes itself as a thriller that actually thrills while provoking questions about the nature of reality and how we can define what we consider to be real in our own mind. Duncan Jones is able to tackle a dynamic action/mystery as well as he did a sobering drama. Though he is let down by his script, Source Code remains an interesting, mostly engaging film that demonstrates what Jones can do when afforded the opportunity to work within a big studio.

Review: Paul

Note: Although this had its American premiere at SXSW, I did not see it there.

One of the key pleasures of both Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz, written by Simon Pegg and Nick Frost and directed by Edgar Wright, was the chemistry between stars Pegg and Frost. They had such a playful back and forth and a genuine affection for each other that they really did seem like they would be best friends, bringing both a considerable amount of humor and emotion. They were the heart of those films and so it would stand to reason that for Paul, the duo’s latest collaboration, they would bring a similar dynamic to the proceedings. Unfortunately, Paul almost immediately backgrounds their relationship in favor of a variety of more outlandish (and less interesting) characters and plot elements.

Graeme and Clive (Pegg and Frost) are two nerds from England who have finally made it to Comic-Con. After that geek pilgrimage they decide to rent an RV and travel throughout the USA, seeing all the UFO hotspots that they’ve heard so much about. Things go wrong, however, when they witness a car crash which turns out to be the work of Paul, a hedonistic little green man who has been the prisoner of the U.S. government since crash landing in 1947. With their newfound intergalactic fugitive, Graeme and Clive must deliver him back to a rendezvous with his mothership all the while fending off the FBI and dealing with a fundamentalist Christian woman who has her whole worldview thrown into turmoil by Paul’s very existence.

Right from the start Paul doesn’t really work. In their previous collaborations Pegg and Frost utilized humor that was highly referential but, with director Edgar Wright, were able to spin that into something more original, commenting on these influences more than merely mentioning them. That is not the case in Paul. At one point it is revealed that Paul likes Reese’s Pieces, much like E.T. But that joke is never expounded upon, it’s only a Family Guy style reference designed to have the audience nodding their heads in remembrance. The jokes that aren’t mere references are surprisingly scatological, with much attention being paid to the size of Paul’s genatalia and Clive’s tendency to wet himself when he’s scared. These jokes fall flat as well, always coming off as lazy and uninspired. I might have chuckled three or four times during the entire duration of the film, this coming from a guy who counts Hot Fuzz and Shaun of the Dead amongst his all-time favorite comedies.

Special attention must be given to Kristen Wiig’s fundamentalist character. I am a huge fan of Wiig and seeing her in this was a treat, but her character is one of the film’s crippling flaws. Upon being more or less kidnapped by our lead characters, Wiig has her Christian faith shattered and immediately turns to hedonism, awkwardly cursing, smoking and drinking whenever she gets the chance. This subplot goes absolutely nowhere and only serves as a rather mean-spirited shot at Christianity. Don’t misunderstand, there’s a context in which this could have been hysterical, but the film is so didactic about it. There’s actually a scene in which Paul lectures Wiig about how moronic she is for believing these things and the film more or less agrees with him. It’s a needless digression in a film that already feels rather scattershot.

The actors all acquit themselves admirably, although it isn’t to any good effect. Wiig brings a sweet innocence to her character, even when she’s deliberately trying to be bad. Jason Bateman is actually menacing in his role as a government operative tasked with bringing Paul back to base. Joe Lo Truglio and Bill Hader are easily the best thing about the film, infusing the film with their bizarre personalities every chance they get. Blythe Danner, making a late film appearance, actually brings a touch of pathos to the film before it is quickly squandered in service of a cheap joke. Paul himself is actually a nice creation, the CGI appearing seamless as he blends into his real-world surroundings, and Seth Rogen does give a generally good-humored performance. Too bad the character himself is so one-note. Unfortunately Pegg and Frost have such underdeveloped characters that they make the least impression of anyone in the film. Just another missed opportunity for this film.

Paul was a real disappointment. What could have been another classic comedy is instead a messy hodgepodge of references, self-conscious “homages” and dick jokes. Greg Mottola (he of Superbad fame) can’t muster nearly the level of comedic energy as Edgar Wright and so the film just proceeds dully from one lame gag to the next. Give them points for effort, I suppose, but hopefully next time Pegg and Frost can come up with something more suited to their considerable talents.

Review: The Lincoln Lawyer

Matthew McConaughey is an actor whose career has often frustrated and disappointed those who saw his potential in such early projects as Richard Linklater’s Dazed and Confused. Following on the heels of that terrific breakthrough he seemed to be heading in a promising direction as a dramatic actor, with solid turns in films such as A Time To Kill, Contact, and Frailty. Over the past few years, however, he has been more associated with vapid romantic comedies, films like Fools Gold and Failure to Launch which have seen him coasting by on his charisma and good looks, (not to mention his trademark “Alright, alright, alright” Texas drawl), revealing little of the promise he displayed earlier in his career. That’s why it is so nice to see him starring in The Lincoln Lawyer, a refreshingly old school legal thriller that sees McConaughey finally utilizing his natural charm in service of a well written and nuanced character.

The Lincoln Lawyer introduces us to Mickey Haller (McConaughey), a criminal defense attorney who does most of his business out of the back of a Lincoln sedan. As the film begins he is given an opportunity to take a case that could result in a lot of money: an assault with a deadly weapon charge against a young real estate mogul (Ryan Phillipe), who swears up and down that he is innocent. After listening to his story and suspecting that, for once, he might be defending an innocent man, Haller takes the case. While he and his personal investigator (William H. Macy, in a strong supporting turn) probe further into their client and his past they unearth more than they bargained for, embroiling Haller in a tangled web of crime and deceit that may have connections to a case that haunts him from his past.

The Lincoln Lawyer, it’s strange to say, is something of an anomaly within the current cinematic landscape: a character driven legal thriller that features almost no action, instead deriving its considerable tension from courtroom proceedings and good old fashioned detective work. The case takes an unexpected turn relatively early on in the film, getting the twist out of the way early on in order to focus on what is really interesting: McConaughey’s thorny legal situation and his attempts to extricate himself. The scenes set in court, where he squares off against a District Attorney (played by Josh Lucas), are the best in the film. It’s hard to describe precisely the nature of the quandary that Haller finds himself in without spoiling the film, but it is a real delight watching him try to outwit his foes, using only his quick wit and intuitive skills to his advantage. Except for one (exceptionally brief) interlude at the end the film admirably stays away from any sort of action catharsis, relying on old school pleasures like well-rounded characters and a tightly plotted screenplay to get thrills.

The cast adds immeasurably. McConaughey, as noted before, lives up to his potential for the first time in a long while. His natural, good-time smirk fits him as a morally adrift trial lawyer, but when things really heat up in the plot he shows unexpected depths, his charm hardening into shark-like focus as he begins his plotting. Marisa Tomei (who inexplicably seems to be getting more beautiful as she ages) has a more underwritten role – McConaughey’s ex-wife and rival attorney – but still manages to bring warmth and a little humor. It’s to her credit that her subplot seems less pointless than it would on the written page. Ryan Phillipe has long struck me as a blank face, someone who looked good and that’s it. Here however he shines; for his role to work you need to portray some pretty fast shifts in character and he pulls it off admirably. Between this and his work in last years MacGruber, Phillipe is really proving his worth as an actor. The rest of the cast is filled with fantastic character actors, people like William H. Macy, Bryan Cranston and Bob Gunton, who do great work in their smaller roles.

Not everything works in The Lincoln Lawyer. The direction, while suited to the subdued proceedings for the most part, will too often try to highlight the drama of one on one conversations by filming them in a series of extreme close-ups. At a certain point these become a little tired; we don’t need to be able to see every single drop of sweat and every single pore from an actor during an intensely dramatic moment. The film also has, perhaps, one too many endings, shoe-horning in a last moment “twist” that feels a little unearned after what has come before. Even still, this is a terrifically entertaining film, one that is all too rare in today’s ADD, younger skewing Hollywood. It also provided a welcome return to the realm of acting for Matthew McConaughey, an actor whom I had long ago written off. It’s a performance and a film the likes of which we would be doing well to see more of.

SXSW Review: Insidious

Horror is an extremely subjective genre. What scares one will strike another as silly, what prompts shrieks of terror in some will draw only shrugs from others. As most other people, I have a very specific and very personal idea of what scares me and things that don’t fall within that parameter often leave me indifferent. Insidious, the new horror film from the writer and director of the original Saw, James Wan and Leigh Whannell, hit me right where it counts, offering one of the scariest film experiences that I’ve had in a theater and perhaps ever.

Insidious tells the story of a family (consisting of a mother and father, two young sons and a baby girl) who move into a new house and soon begin to experience strange paranormal phenomena. Objects in the house move themselves around, voices are heard through the baby monitor and more increasingly malevolent forces appear to manifest, particularly around the family’s oldest son who has fallen into a mysterious coma. As is expected, the family’s attempts to ignore or avoid these forces meet with failure, which leads them to bring on a paranormal investigator and her team who discover that the evil which haunts this family has even darker (and more personal) designs on them then they could have imagined.

Insidious fits squarely within my favorite genre of horror: The Haunted House story. Forget about demonic possessions, psycho slashers and torturous madmen. Give me unexplained noises, spectral figures and darkened corners that promise something sinister. The film is remarkably paced, giving us the basic setup early on before immediately bringing the scares, never subsiding but rather ratcheting up the tension until it becomes almost unbearable. There are so many moments and images from the film that tap right in to deeply felt anxieties: strange figures pacing the hallways at night, creatures hiding in the darkness of a room and so on. The film relies largely on so-called “jump scares,” which come across as shallow gimmicks in other horror films, but are used to terrific effect here. One crucial distinction in the way this film uses jump scares is that they are never “fake-out” scares, ones in which a loud noise reveal something innocent like a cat or some other innocuous source. Director James Wan knows his horror conventions and he knows what his audience is expecting. Thus one of the joys of the film is constantly having your expectations upended, your attention focused on one thing only to be shocked in some other, clever way.

The film also delivers in ways other than scares. The cast all bring their A-game, with Patrick Wilson and Rose Byrne both delivering grounded performances that make the horror seem all the more real as the film progresses. Barbara Hershey, enjoying a nice genre-pic revival with this and Black Swan, delivers as Wilson’s mother who may know more about the haunting then she lets on. The standouts by far, however, are the paranormal investigators, played by Lin Shaye, Leigh Whannell (who also wrote the film) and Angus Sampson. They bring a comic touch to the film precisely when it is needed, bringing some welcome relief while never throwing off the balance of the film’s ominous tone. The film looks great, atmospheric like a good haunted house film should be. I was astonished to hear that the film cost only $1 million to produce. That’s less than the first Saw film and a welcome reminder that no amount of money can replace filmmaking ingenuity and knowledge of craft.

I loved Insidious. The film pinned me to my seat, often forcing me to cover my eyes with my hand. At one point, I’m man enough to admit, I even shouted in terror at the screen. It was completely involuntary and a sign of how effective Insidious is for the duration of its runtime. Rare is the film that can have that effect on me. Rarer still is the film that can do that and be such an exhilarating and downright fun experience. See this movie and see it with the largest possible audience. If you’re anything like me then you’ll want to relive the experience as soon as it’s over.

SXSW: An Introduction

As I write this right now my friends and I are a little more than two hours into our thirteen-hour drive back to Auburn. We left Austin on the last night of South By Southwest (SXSW), 6^th Street still bustling with crowds, bands that make up the music portion of the festival still rocking from numerous venues large and small. Leaving now is a bit surreal; since we arrived over a week ago we have seen forty one feature length films and at least six short films, we’ve met and talked with filmmakers whose work we admire and we have had experiences that none of us will ever forget. It has been equal parts exhilarating and exhausting; seeing more films in one week than most do in a year is surprisingly tiring. For my part it has also been quite the educational experience. This was the first film festival that I’ve ever attended and it indisputably altered my perspective on the potential of cinema as both an art form as well as a business. I saw several films that face little chance of ever being seen by a wide audience, films that could potentially not see any distribution at all. Yet several of these will undoubtedly stick with me; films that took chances, films that told smaller, more personal stories that only appeal to a certain kind of people and are all the better for it. I discovered that there is an entire world of filmmakers out there, toiling away without studio support or large budgets, but with a story to tell and the imagination to tell it well with the resources at their disposal. It is a welcome reminder that cinema is a necessary and vital art form, one that exists and even thrives outside of what is eventually offered in wide release or even on the “art-house” circuit. Over the next week or two I’ll be writing up some of the more notable films that I saw; films that I loved, films that I loathed and some in between. Most of all I’d like to call attention to these films, to continue the conversation and to illuminate something about my experience at SXSW. Cinema is alive and well, in the mainstream and on the margins, and don’t let anyone tell you differently.

Review: Rango

There aren’t many films out there like Rango, though the film is certainly a hybrid thing, piling on references to spaghetti westerns, Chinatown and Looney Tunes. It’s such a dizzyingly creative mishmash of the weird and the familiar that it would be impressive not just to see it done well, but to see it done at all. Luckily for cinema fans, Rango emerges as a singularly strange CGI toon, one that somehow manages to combine gorgeous visual style with an offbeat Western tale, complete with gunslingers, men with no name and Hunter S. Thompson.

Johnny Depp portrays the titular character, a lizard in a terrarium who has taken the lack of company as an opportunity to stretch his creative muscles as an actor, attempting to find the right role for himself in the process. When he is violently jettisoned from the car in which he is traveling he is forced to wander the endless desert, facing hostile creatures and the elements, before discovering the town of Dirt. In keeping with such Westerns as “A Fistful of Dollars” (or its inspiration Yojimbo), this lizard with no name is instantly a figure of curiosity and suspicion within the town and through various mishaps somehow lands the job of town sheriff. Soon he is forced to deal with a criminal conspiracy that involves the water shortage facing the town, while trying to define himself and his identity within this harsh Western landscape.

Many of the film’s influences are plain to see simply from that synopsis. The villain of the piece at one point even responds to a question with the exact same line of dialogue used by John Huston in “Chinatown”, while the homages to Clint Eastwood westerns, Star Wars and Blazing Saddles are easily spotted. Fortunately director Gore Verbinski is able to take all these disparate elements and synthesize them into something that feels unique and fresh. For being comprised of such varied elements the film feels consistent, never jarring as it juggles various styles and tones. The closest film I can think of as a comparison would be Stephen Chow’s Kung Fu Hustle, another genre-bending film that wears its influences proudly on its sleeve while still maintaining an identity all its own. As a result the film is constantly showing you something new, always dazzling with it’s ingenuity and wit.

Special mention must be made of the animation, as it’s among the most gorgeous ever seen in an animated film. The locales themselves look almost photo-real, designed in such a way as to evoke the dusty towns and wide open vistas of Western’s past. The characters themselves are unlike any seen in other CGI cartoons ostensibly for children. They are balanced perfectly between stylized creatures with more identifiable anthropomorphic features and a realistic look. The animal inhabitants of Dirt look dusty, dirty and hairy, yet they aren’t repulsive to look at. It’s is another odd design choice that pays big dividends for the audience, as these stylized creations fit right in with all the general weirdness happening in the film.

The voice cast is excellent all around. Johnny Depp gives another of his quirky outsider performances that have served him so well these past years, but he infuses Rango with an air cheerful goofiness, as the lizard desperately attempts to discover his role in the events unfolding before him. Isla Fisher is sweet and funny as a citizen of Dirt who befriends Rango in the desert. Other familiar names such as Abigail Breslin, Bill Nighy and Alfred Molina all add personality to a film that is already bursting with it. Hans Zimmer’s score, in keeping with the rest of the film, is a twangy Western-influenced piece of work (complete with mariachi horns and Spanish guitar) that stands alongside the best work that he’s done in recent times.

Moviegoers of all ages should be happy that Rango exists. If more films were this gleefully strange and entertaining then Hollywood would be a much better place. Gore Verbinski has rebounded from the messy and chaotic final two Pirates of the Caribbean films an delivered an audacious treat, a film with the energy of a Looney Tunes short, the trappings of a traditional Western and the fevered subconscious of Jodorowsky. Though the playing field is pretty sparse, this wonderful film is the first great film of 2011. See it.

Review: The Adjustment Bureau

Romance in Hollywood films is an interesting thing; most films attempt to feature it in some way (however peripheral to the main action) in their never-ending quest to hit all the demographics and appeal to all audiences. This means that in many (I would actually say most) of these films the romance comes across as perfunctory, only providing an easy source of added stakes and a bit of cheap satisfaction at the end as the couple is inevitably reunited. Films that feature a romantic relationship as the primary action face an even greater challenge, asking the audience to buy that these two actors are genuine human beings worth caring about and worthy of each other’s affections. All this is to say that The Adjustment Bureau, directed by first timer George Nolfi and starring Matt Damon and Emily Blunt, is a film that succeeds largely based on the genuine chemistry of its two leads, lending a light touch to material that would seem to call for the dark and paranoid style of many other Philip K. Dick adaptations.

As The Adjustment Bureau opens, we see Matt Damon’s would-be senator David Norris preparing for a concession speech after a difficult and scandal plagued election. While reading over his notes in the men’s room he encounters Emily Blunt, a dancer named Elise, who has been hiding in one of the stalls for her own reasons. They have what would be, in a more generic film, a meet-cute, but the two stars combined with Nolfi’s sharp dialogue sketch the beginnings of a relationship that feels warm and funny and real. When Norris runs into her several years later and rekindles the spark of attraction, he feels it must be meant to be. However, as we soon learn, things are not that simple. He comes into contact with “The Adjustment Bureau”, a shadowy group of men running around in porkpie hats altering people’s lives to fit “The Plan”, which is dictated by “The Chairman.” When they inform Norris that his infatuation with Elise is in violation of the plan, and that they intend to stop it, Norris must make a choice of whether to follow “the Plan” or to follow his own heart.

The plot would seem to lend itself to many intriguing possibilities; a sort of Manchurian Candidate meets Dark City tale that allows for many breathless chases and many philosophical underpinnings. Interestingly enough the film opts to focus almost exclusively on the romance aspect of the plot. All of the film’s philosophical and metaphysical quandaries are filtered through the question of whether or not these two people can be happily united. Luckily the central relationship is developed extremely well, allowing us to both believe in these characters and root for their relationship to survive the odds. Even still, the narrow focus means that sometimes the film sometimes seems to be lacking in dramatic stakes; with the reveal of essentially a godlike figure and beings that seem to have supernatural powers to bend time and space, it would seem that there would be some more pertinent questions to raise other than “will these crazy kids make it?” This is reinforced by the relative harmlessness of the agents of the Bureau. None of them seem to be malicious; indeed they mostly seem to be weary men simply trying to accomplish a job. This is somewhat refreshing; a nice break from the faceless, generically ominous bad guy in a suit from many other films, but it makes for a film that often feels feather-light.

The Adjustment Bureau is a refreshing change of pace for a Philip K. Dick adaptation. Instead of going the self-serious, dark route, the film takes the weighty themes and ideas that Dick wrote about and filters them into a breezy tale of romance. While this sometimes undercuts the tension of the plot, the chemistry of Damon and Blunt lends gravity to an otherwise lightweight film. As per Hollywood’s usual formula the film prizes romance against all odds, but when the romance is this well realized and the stakes this metaphysically intriguing then it’s easy to go along with it.