Wednesday, April 25, 2007

THE HOST

Now that The Host is finally showing here in the US, I want to chime in with added praise. Any and all US sci-fi, horror, or monster movie lovers need to catch this in theaters. This is some real filmmaking, very vibrant and alive. And some of the best monster mayhem this Monster Kid has ever had the joy and terror to witness in a cinema, instead of a little box showing the late creature feature. I'm so glad I kept myself relatively spoiler-free, never getting a real look at the main beastie before last night's late show. The long extended shot where they really show the monster the first time is a classic and a key example to show how both monsters and CGI should be cinematically approached. It freaked me out how the chaos just looked, from just enough of an obscured distance, just like somebody playing with an excited dog. I laughed, I screamed, I sat with my mouth open in awe. It'll be interesting to see how America takes the wild shifts from pathos to comedy, all acted at a Mach-3 level of performance. The closest I can compare it to is the exagerrated supporting characters of Coen Bros films given the center focus in a Cassavetes film... except with a giant man-eating monster in there too.

I wonder what Ray Harryhausen would think of this one?

All text © 2007 William D'Annucci
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TIDELAND

I caught a screening of Tideland at the IFC Center last October. Since then, I’ve heard that the North American releases on DVD have strongly compromised Terry Gilliam’s widescreen images. A shame, because it’s brilliant. Just bloody brilliant. It is true that many people will hate this film or just be too repelled by some of the gruesome imagery within. I think what I'd read about the film beforehand put me in the right open-minded attitude, because I found the film really rewarding and a fascinating depiction of the resilience of children in the face of the most horrible conditions.

The "conditions" are what will be the real deal-breaker for some, as this film often plays as a very insane and Gilliam-esque cross between Night Of The Hunter and Tobe Hooper's Texas Chain Saw Massacre. Or maybe it's actually Alice's Adventures In Wonderland as performed by Leatherface and his family. I’d be hesitant to categorize this film in any genre, as the film is often very much the "poetic horror film" as David Cronenberg described it.

Jodelle Ferland, last seen in Silent Hill, is the most winning aspect of the film. She's a gem and a real discovery by Gilliam, also performing all the voices for the doll-head characters. I'm hoping she'll continue to work in film. The rest of the cast is excellent too, but most giving very extreme performances of rather frightening and/or disgusting people that'll put off many viewers. Jennifer Tilly was a bit too much for me, but I'm pretty sure she was exactly the Courtney Love From Hell that Gilliam intended and she's mercifully out of the film early on.

The sequences in which we fully enter the girl's fantasy world are masterpieces of special effects work, but sadly they are few and far between. Another aspect of the film that helped me through all of the nastiness was the utterly beautiful film score, a lushly romantic work that's reminiscent of Michael Kamen's score for Brazil, championing the saving power of dreams and imagination.

Mr. Gilliam, all is forgiven for Brothers Grimm. It's great to have you back.

All text © 2007 William D'Annucci
All rights reserved

Monday, April 23, 2007

WAR OF THE WORLDS (2005)

The old Spielberg is back. Not the nicey-nice Spielberg who likes to show little Drew Barrymore with a flower pot or hairy Robin Williams flying around. This is the sadistic Spielberg who trapped that woman in her house in Close Encounters, then ripped her kid out the trap door. H.G. Wells’ novel is refurbished as a motherfucker of a 50s sci-fi invasion flick, filtered through a brutal post 9-11 sensibility. The gloves come off and Spielberg slams the gas petal to the floor…almost. Some very delicate bits of my anatomy got caught underneath. When the invaders scream out their version of Wells’ “Ulla” sound, a dinner-gong announcing immediate mass death, you’ll understand what I mean.

Yeah, it stars Tom Cruise. I know, I know. The week before this flick came out, that idiot was shooting his mouth off everywhere about mental disorders he doesn’t understand and his bullshit voodoo religion. I could not have been more pissed-off at the guy. But what could I do? I love the Wells novel. And I’ll tell ya, even though Cruise is on-screen practically every moment of the film, I didn’t think once about all that nonsense of his. He’s actually pretty good, up to a certain level of emotional believability, then he runs out of talent and just coasts by with a general dazed look. Dakota Fanning is good for Cruise. He should spend the next few movies just interacting with her and worrying about her on camera. It’s good for him. Spielberg just keeps surrounding those two with lots of death and horror, and just asks them to react. The results were good. It also helps that Cruise plays a real unlikable prick.

There is some majorly contrived horseshit you are asked to swallow. Most of the time it’s easy, if you get in the same emotional panic level I was in while watching, the kind where your logic meter (the one that might ask questions about heat-ray technology, gas tank levels, and the like) gets shorted out in your skull. There is one really unforgivable part where the characters’ logic gets thrown to the wind in an oddly stagey sequence which I called the Sophie’s Choice part. You’ll know it when you see it. No father would do that. And nobody with an ounce of sanity would run off to fight those tripod machines empty handed, particularly some spoiled brat Jersey teen boy with no military training or experience in interstellar combat. I woulda cold-cocked the kid. But, perhaps I’m splitting hairs considering my over-all conclusion regarding the Cruise clan’s ability to constantly come a nose hair’s length away from death and survive. I understand that this happens as the result of Spielberg’s good idea to have the whole invasion perceived from the puny level of a couple common schmucks. I like that perspective. It’s in keeping with the novel and it works. But it leads me to the inescapable conclusion that this family is enchanted. They are magically protected from harm, quite literally. Gotta be. I guess the scene with the black magic spell will be in the director’s cut.

What else did I think about it? Usually I was too scared to think, which seemed to be the idea. Tim Robbins has been getting a lot of flack for his performance. Well, screw those people. If you read the book, you’ll know he got it just right, looney and irrational panic.

War Of The Worlds... a heart attack Happy Meal for today's America. Bon appetit.

All text © 2007 William D'Annucci
All rights reserved

Scopophiliac Attack!

I’m not one for writing an auto-biographical blog, one of those online diaries detailing whom the writer is working with, sleeping with, partying with, angry at, overjoyed with, indifferent to, etc. More often than not, that belongs in a notebook somewhere. I’d rather just share my reviews and thoughts with you. Knowing me, it will mostly be about movies. But I hope to throw some observations out on theater, TV, restaurants, and other cultural happenings that flitted past my eyeballs. I will, from time to time, also write about certain issues that have stuck in my craw, crap going on in this existence that not enough people are talking about. This will be an on-going project, nothing is set in stone, and I may go back to change previous writing at any time. Hopefully, my words will become looser, free-wheeling, and closer to my emotions over time. There’s been too many stuffy criticisms or fanboy grammar-free rants, both extremes that the Internet encourages too much. Possibly my mind exists in the middle ground? What I’m saying is, sometimes I will cover most of the traditional bases of professional criticism and tell you if everyone from the director to the caterer did their job right. But sometimes I’ll just go off on a passionate yet hopefully intelligent tirade about what I loved, hated, or what I’m too amazed and over-whelmed by to know just what the hell I do feel. Beware, as I think big thinks, and run-on sentences may lie ahead.

But I’ll try to keep my personal life out of it.

All text © 2007 William D'Annucci
All rights reserved