Long Day's Journey Into Night (1962)

Deep, haunting domestic melodrama about a moderately wealthy family on the verge of collapse, due to the son's progressing battle with tuberculosis, and the mother's resulting insanity and paranoia. The whole of the film takes place in their Connecticut cottage, where the mother, Mary, has secured herself in an attempt to keep reality at bay, and her delusions to run wild. Her primary concern, and reason for instability, is the gnawing thought that her youngest son is on the verge of death, but we learn, as the story progresses, that there are other causes for her troubles. The rest of the family stands idly by and watches its deterioration: the father, a stuffy, British actor, refuses to take any stand, save for coddling his wife and her delirious fantasies, and their other son is a lush, seemingly street-wise, yet completely awash in incompetence and self-pity. As the day goes on, their various tensions, concerns, and insecurities abound, and reveal themselves; while the action is moderately reigned in, there is no doubt that the events that transpire leave the characters remarkably haunted by the end.

This is an early film by the late, great Sidney Lumet, and it shows in his staging; rather than hide the fact that the film is a literal adaptation of the Eugene O'Neill play, he uses long takes and wide shots to keep the geography and physical dynamics of the play on full display, but is unafraid to cut from an all-encompassing wide to a stark, intimate close-up. The film is shot in magnificent black and white, and has that old Hollywood feel that complements the more confrontational, emotionally cutting dialogue well, particularly for Katherine Hepburn. Hepburn, perfectly utilizing her legendary star status, turns in a gut-wrenching, soulful performance as the haunted matriarch, simultaneously smiley and shaky as she searches for something, anything, that she can depend on or respect. While a section of the film puts her at the forefront when, I feel, her character would have served the story better from offscreen, the performance itself is flawless, and more indicative of her talents than more lightweight fare, like The Philadelphia Story. As her husband, Ralph Richardson is all early 20th-century bluster and panache, speaking constantly, but saying very little; his clearly stagey style is a teriffic contrast with the younger men in the family, played by Dean Stockwell and Jason Robards. Stockwell is haunting as the wide-eyed innocent playing it cynical, and we wait for him to fail in keeping up with his father's ignorant cynicism and lose his tenuous grip on sensibility. Robards could play his drunken louse in his sleep, but luckily, he brings his experience with the character (he played him on Broadway) to the table, giving the most raw, physical performance in the movie; you can almost smell the whiskey on his breath. O'Neill's mannerred dialogue becomes almost a hinderence to the film, as Lumet's style is far more contemporary and revealing than O'Neill's early 20th-century prose. O'Neill also leads the narrative into one or two dead ends, where nothing new is revealed, nothing relevant is reflected upon, and the characters stagnate, which, I'm sure, was more forgivable in 1940's theater than it was in 1960's cinema. However, the director, and the actors, are comfortable enough with the material that they intuitively relay O'Neill's ideas and motifs more successfully than the actual words he put in their mouths.

Recommended for fans of the cast, or of family-driven chamber dramas. It is comparable to Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf in its staginess, its amalgam of old and new aesthetics, and its emotional rawness, but it is the lesser film, and does not contain the remarkable, cohesive beauty of that work.

True Legend (2011)

A badass, throwback Wuxia film, this Chinese kung fu saga tells the story of Su, a war hero who suffers the consequences of handing to his adopted brother, a bitter, venom-poisoned sociopath, his rightful governorship. The opening of the film is an elaborate mountain-set battle scene establishing Su as a stalwart, capable warrior. The initial melodrama moves along quickly; within 20 or so minutes, Su has risen and fallen as a hero, his villainous step-brother has already declared his intentions, and the stakes (the step-brother is in custody of Su's son) are established. Broken and deprived of the use of his right arm, Su heals in the mountains with his wife (and a holy doctor, played by Michelle Yeoh) until he is confronted by The God Of Wushu, a mystical figure who taunts him and assures him that until he can conquer him in battle, he will not be ready for his step-brother. It is here that the story becomes slightly more complex; rather than being a straight-forward wuxia revenge flick, this is just as much about Su conquering his own demons as it is about beating up bad guys. The narrative takes its time to get to its climax, and when you think the film is about to end, it has another chapter, about the West's corrupting influence in the region, that deviates from the rest of the film. However, the central theme of Su living up to his potential, and disregarding his fears, longings, and insecurities to be the best warrior (and father) he can be.

The cast is dedicated, effective, and in tune with the material; the flippant, "I have somewhere else to be" attitude of some Shaw Bros. actors is nowhere to be seen here. Vincent Zhao, as Su, goes through several remarkable character changes, and handles them, both physically and emotionally, with aplomb. Andy On is despicable and terrifying as the villainous step-brother; his physical prowess and shocking training methods keep the tension and forward momentum of the narrative going for a large chunk of the film. In smaller roles, Michelle Yeoh, Jay Chou (as the God of Wushu), and a certain late, great Western martial arts figure (who, singlehandedly, saves the last 20 minutes of the film) add a degree of class and pedigree to what could, on the surface, be easily dismissed as a throwaway kung-fu import. The other key element that separates this from your average Eastern beat-'em-up is the spectacular fighting choreography. Director Yuen Woo Ping's name is synonymous with large-scale, balletic kung-fu; aside from his legendary directorial credits, like Drunken Master, and my personal favorite, Iron Monkey, he provided the choreography for flicks like Kill Bill, The Matrix, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Fist of Legend, Kung Fu Hustle, and Once Upon A Time in China. He brings his legendary expertise here, with a plethora of fights that come fast and furious like Dom Toretto, each one crucially different than the last. Andy On's 5 venom fist, in particular, is a scary and awe-inspiring delight. The story is strong, and holds up (until the end), but the dynamic fighting is what makes this film occasionally pop off the screen and transcend into something signature and memorable.

Recommended for fans of large-scale Wuxia flicks like Iron Monkey or Fearless. I do not know if it contains enough universal appeal to crossover to western audiences (the crowd I saw it with seemed unsure of how to react, with genuine applause and inappropriate ironic laughter being expressed equally), but I certainly found it to be a remarkable, graciously old-school Wuxia tale.

P.S. This movie is shot REALLY well for any film, let alone an action flick. The skies, mountains, and sets of this movie are fantastic, and will tickle any of the photographically inclined who end up seeing it.

Rango (2011)

Inventive, ambitious, but somewhat void of emotion, this animated homage to spaghetti westerns revolves around the titular chameleon as he poses as a small-town sheriff (A+ for originality there) in an attempt to discover the true nature of his self (that part's better). The first act is the best, as Rango, voiced as a lively, scheming huckster by Johnny Depp, attempts to make his way through the desert after being unwittingly abandoned by his owners. With no presence of identity, instinct, or empathy, his futile efforts to contextualize his plight are very humorous and, dare I say, human, as plot takes a decided backseat to character development in these early scenes. However, once Rango arrives in the besieged town (*sigh*, there's always a besieged town), the narrative settles into the traditional western structure: 1. stranger arrives in town, 2. Series of circumstances force town into reverence of stranger, 3. stranger begrudgingly takes responsibility for the town, etc. blah blah they find out he's a fake and he has to stop being one anymore for the climax to go down in a satisfying, explosive way. Save for one third-act introspection sequence (which feels like the rest of the film from act one after a lengthy narrative detour), there are virtually no surprises in the latter half of the film, and everything that isn't deeply rooted in cliche is telegraphed miles in advance.

However, I must say, the character work in the film is strong enough to warrant checking out the film. For one, aside from the three leads (Depp, Isla Fisher, and Abigail Breslin), the casting is refreshingly anonymous (though not quite up to Despicable Me's daunting standards), with names like Harry Dean Stanton, Ray Winstone, and Bill Nighy turning in invisible and strong supporting work. They contribute to what ends up being the winning point of the film, its atmosphere. The sun-ravaged, desolate nature of the desert allows for a more cynical, worldly edge to the proceedings; sure all the different species of animals get along, but they are only doing so to survive in an otherwise uninhabitable region. The villains are mean, the heroes are open and endearing, and the supporting characters all but steal the film. But, in the end, the shallowness and obviousness on display are abundant enough to render any possible emotion or depth in the film moot and ineffective, and the film's thematic content, although sporadically phenomenal and magical, is basically left out to dry in lieu of explosions and flying bats with gatling guns (cool, but child's play compared to dogfighting dragons of all shapes and sizes *hint, hint*). That said, the opening 20 or 30 minutes are fun, interesting, and, surprisingly, provocative, and along with the breezy and easy pacing and tone of the film, as well as its deep respect for spaghetti western aesthetics, it is impossible for me not to recommend this film to anyone who thinks it would be worth their time.

Slightly Recommended to fans of slightly off-kilter animation (this is a Nickelodeon Films production, and is accordingly out there, without blowing kids' minds) or spaghetti westerns. While the film gets a little too clever, and not involving enough, for its own good, it is a fun romp that, thankfully, does not require 3-D to create its own immersive world.

Fantasia 2000 (1999)

Weak, but ambitious follow-up to the 1941 Walt Disney classic presenting several animated vignettes set to immediately recognizable, iconic classical music. While the essential elements of Fantasia have been transplanted here, somewhere between the obviousness of the music (only Ave Maria and The Nutcracker Suite were as universally familiar as the choices here), the rotating star introductions (Steve Martin, ok, but Bette Midler, Penn and Teller, and Quincy Jones?), and the thin nature of the stories themselves (i.e., Donald Duck as Noah building his ark), the classiness, energy, and profundity of the original are lost in this installment. Only one segment, a tribute to New York set to Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue," brings anything new and interesting to the proceedings, for the '41 Fantasia did not concern itself with urbanity and modern civilization. Even with the tune and animation heavily evoking Woody Allen's Manhattan, the jaunty, stylized animation provides a depiction of New York City that manages to be truly signature and exciting. If one or two of the other pieces managed to impress as much as the Gershwin segment, this would have been a thoroughly worthwhile and rewatchable endeavor. As is, it exists as merely a pale tribute to Walt Disney's original ambition of a continuing series of abstract, elemental animated films set to classical music.

Skip it, save for the following segment.

The Road (2009)

Somber, gut-wrenching drama about a father and his son wandering a post-apocalyptic wasteland in search of food, warmth, and other "good guys." The cataclysm that wiped out humanity is not specified, but the whole world is covered in a grey, volcanic ash, implying either war or atmospheric depletion or both; either way it is incredibly dark and depressing, constantly. Viggo Mortensen is the determined father, who, in narration, confides to us that he is aware that he is close to death, and is being very particular about the legacy he leaves for his pre-teen son. Many of the remaining survivors have given into cannibalism, and so the father-son is aware that they cannot trust anyone except themselves (this leads to several tense encounters with seemingly benign strangers). My favorite stretch of the film involves flashbacks to before, and during, the world-ending catastrophe, with Viggo and the boy's mother (Charlize Theron) going from a happily married couple to a pair of nearly-insane, desperate parents; Theron's performance in this brief section ranks among the best work I've ever seen from her, and easily makes the biggest impression of the supporting characters (although Robert Duvall's appearance warrants mention). The subject matter lends itself well to the dark, apocalyptic imagery, which is more Fallout 3 than I Am Legend in its wastelands and burnt, grey and brown landscapes. John Hillcoat uses the same nihilistic tone (and composers, Nick Cave and Warren Ellis) that fueled his masterpiece, The Proposition, and it helps to achieve a sort of melancholy that few filmmakers can successfully maintain for the duration of a picture. In the end, the whole thing does not amount to much; because the film opts not to go the I Am Legend rote by throwing in third-act twists, and gratefully so, the narrative just sort of sputters out without any real finality. But as a portrait of a post-apocalyptic landscape and the loss of humanity that comes with it, it is slightly more successful than I Am Legend, but has more of its own unique identity.

Recommended for fans of post-apocalyptic goodies like Mad Max or A Boy and his Dog or Viggo, who turns in typically professional work. This did not blow me off my candy ass the way The Proposition did, but I do not expect Mr. Hillcoat to find a more riveting story for his signature slow-burn than that film had in the near future.

Despicable Me (2010)

Fun, well-crafted animated film about a supervillain named Gru whose plans of stealing the moon from its orbit are sidetracked by 3 surrogate children he adopts. Regardless of the cutsey throughline, the film does not betray its villain-centric premise; most of the adult characters in the film are nefarious in some way, and that helps create the world where this film exists in. I was surprised to see Universal's logo before the film, rather than a Dreamworks or Disney, but their signature touch is evident in the distinct, insular production and character design of the film; these characters could only exist in the world the filmmakers have designed for them. The voice work is also very indicative of a desire to deviate from convention; filled with celebrity names, the only ones that are readily obvious (besides Steve Carrell) are Danny McBride and Jack McBrayer, and their roles are so background (and well-designed) that the recognition does not distract from the story. While all the voice actors are fairly note-perfect (with special mention going to Julie Andrews, Jason Segel, and Russell Brand), it is Steve Carrell that holds this movie down. While creating a thoroughly original and distinctive character design for Gru, the animators made the brilliant decision to give Gru Carrell-esque eyes and eyebrows, allowing Carrell to subtly sneak in his patented form of awkward humor at every given opportunity. Hearing him in such a radically different role from Michael Scott while still recognizing (and, repeatedly, appreciating) his signature style was one of the real pleasures of the film.

Recommended for fans of Steve Carrell and family films with a looser, more interesting vibe; this primarily French-animated film is way more Land of the Lost than Toy Story 3. There is a moment toward the end involving Gru and the moon that is almost as moving, in its own way, as the notorious furnace scene in Toy Story, and all the more rewarding because it is an animated moment reveling in the happiness of the villain; not as common as one would hope.

Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs (2009)

Cute, if typical animated film about a town whose rain supply is modified by the local mad scientist into various types of food. The film never quite outruns its silly, childish premise, but it does manage to find its own brand of charm; the jokes are not so juvenile that they will piss off the older crowd, but not in-jokey enough to seem like a bullshit cop out like so many animated films these days. Bill Hader and Anna Faris are cute as the leads, the local goofball/mad scientist and the plucky reporter, respectively, but the film belongs to the supporting cast. Mr. T voices the Mr. T character, an over-zealous cop who gives Hader's character grief, but kicks ass when the time calls for it. James Caan, of all fucking people, is Hader's working class father, who doesn't get his son's weird tendencies, but cannot relate to him anyway. Benjamin Bratt almost steals the film in his small part as Faris's cameraman, a short, yet omnipotent hispanic. And Hader has a cute talking monkey, whose obsession with Gummi Bears leads to the funniest scene in the film.

Recommended for animation fans, and stoners who like seeing people playing in gobs of ice cream, Jello, and spaghetti.

Finding Nemo (2003)

Pixar has an impeccable track record, and Finding Nemo is no exception. It is a highly entertaining, well thought out story that is very relatable and, at the same time, unique to its aquatic environments. The three main characters are all well developed and well cast, especially Albert Brooks as the determined father, Marlin. The side characters are generally amiable, if not that memorable; the rehabilitated sharks and Willem Dafoe's crafty fish are all that stick out. The humor is efficient, but the sentimental story is mainly on display here; the film's crucial flaw is that its father-son subject matter, however successfully executed, is well explored territory, and lacks the originality of, say Up or Toy Story. Nevertheless, it is as dependably engaging, moving, and entertaining as any of Pixar's other films, and I rate it above Cars and Monsters, Inc. but just under Ratatouille.

Highly recommended for those already taken by Pixar's output. Not for the overly-cynical or those averse to aquatic life. Really cute stuff here.