THE TRUMAN SHOW: Of Twitter and Surrealism

By now, we're all familiar with the euphemistically-termed "double movies". ANTZ and A BUG'S LIFE. DEEP IMPACT and ARMAGEDDON. VOLCANO and DANTE'S PEAK. And while there's a tendency to divide these sorts of movies into "the good killer asteroid movie" and "the bad talking-insects movie", I find that usually both films suffer from the comparisons. A BUG'S LIFE is charming in the usual Pixar way, but there's no Woody Allen snark like in ANTZ. DEEP IMPACT might have a touching human story (and Elijah Wood!), but where's the aw-shucks-look-at-that-explosion joy of Michael Bay's Criterion-worthy effort?

All of which is to say that THE TRUMAN SHOW stands as superior to EDTV in almost every sense (except, of course, for Liz Hurley in full-blown screw-you-Hugh-Grant-I'm-still-hot-mode).

This is less an insult to EDTV (which does, after all, feature Ellen DeGeneres) than a glowing compliment to THE TRUMAN SHOW. Peter Weir's 1998 film is amazingly prescient about reality TV, but it may be even more relevant to things like Twitter, in that it plays on our culture's desire to document every moment of our lives. There's a bizarre fascination with recording the minutiae of our lives that pervades North American culture at the moment, and this film taps into that in a fascinating way.

It's surreal that I want to read about what you ate for breakfast over the internet, and that I want to share over the internet what I watched last night, but this is how our communities are forming. THE TRUMAN SHOW could make a strong case for belonging in the surreal film category, as the entirety of Truman's world is a strange mirror of the real world. There's the great shot of the rain following Truman, the strange biohazard suit chase, and the scene where Truman stumbles upon an unfinished set. The eerie feeling of something not quite right hangs over Truman for the whole film, and the result is unsettling.

This was also Jim Carrey's first serious dramatic role, in what must have seemed like a huge risk. Carrey knocks it out of the park, dialing his normal over-the-top schtick back to just a glimmer and playing a man whose dreams and ambitions are constantly being crushed and is being pushed to the boundaries of paranoia (but, of course, as the tagline to Tony Scott's ENEMY OF THE STATE reminds us, "It's not paranoia if they're really after you.") I'll argue that Carrey showed glimpses of his potential as a dramatic actor in Joel Schumacher's BATMAN FOREVER, where his Riddler had that dark Mr. Ripley-ish undercurrent thing going on, but here he's a revelation, playing moments with an understated subtlety that allow his bigger moments of on-screen charisma to really endear him to the audience.

THE TRUMAN SHOW is a fascinating document of our culture's fascination with documentation, and has what I'd argue is one of the greatest surrealist shots in cinema. What's not to like?

TRUCKER isn't entirely awful!

I had taken a day or two off from writing these reviews, and I was trying to remember everything I had seen. I knew I was forgetting one, and wracked my already-considerably-wracked brain going through my shelves trying to find what it was.

Yes, it was TRUCKER, a little indie film that had been on my radar for a few years due to the presence of KISS KISS BANG BANG-alum Michelle Monaghan and Our Last Great Hope, Nathan Fillion. This should have been right up my alley - a valiantly struggling indie film with a killer cast and a nice intimate narrative scope.

Unfortunately, unable to recall much about the film leaves me in the unfortunate position of having to assume that it didn't do too much for me. Here's a brief summary of what I do remember:

- Michelle Monaghan is really pretty.

- Michelle Monaghan is really pretty, even when she's pretty sad and grumpy most of the time.

- Nathan Fillion shows up for a scene or two to talk about becoming a man, but he's a hypocrite because he's cheating on his wife with Ms. Monaghan. I'm not really sure what his purpose is in the movie until the movie makes him a symbol and blatantly tells me why he's here in the third act.

- Benjamin Bratt plays one of the least convincing cancer patients I've ever seen.

This is not to say that TRUCKER is entirely awful. I seem to remember a scene or two between Ms. Monaghan and her estranged son that resembled a realistically portrayed relationship. The cast is fine, but the script is weak, jumping days and weeks ahead in the story and never able to settle into a single discernable mood or arc. The resolutions are incredibly weak and feel tacked on to achieve some sense of finality.

TRUCKER isn't the worst indie I've ever seen, but it's certainly one I'll never watch again.

TOY STORY 3 is utterly heartwarming

Michael Keaton is approaching hero status. Let's do the list: Beetlejuice. Mr. Mom. Batman. Jack Frost. His FBI agent from JACKIE BROWN and OUT OF SIGHT. That guy from Multiplicity. And now, Ken.

Of course, most of the joy of TOY STORY 3 is in spending time with our returning characters. I had a smile on my face from the first time I heard Tom Hanks' voice as Woody through to the final words from Tim Allen's Buzz. Everything you've loved from the previous TOY STORYs is here: you like the wildly imaginative world of Andy's playtimes? The one that opens the film puts the other two to shame. The toys also have another amazing MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE type breakout, and also has some of the finest character work in the history of computer animation.

The thing I was most worried about going into TOY STORY 3 was the potential for thematic stagnancy (yes, thematic stagnancy). Based on the logline of this film, it seems like a very similar story to TOY STORY 2 - the toys have to learn to move on from Andy and accept a new life. But the Pixar guys take a brilliant angle on this potentially-repetitive theme and make this one about mortality. There's a couple of very surprising moments in the film that touch on death in a very direct way, and it's clear that Pixar is making this film for an audience that's grown up with these films. It trades in on the bonds we've made with the characters in a way that reminded me of something more akin to BEFORE SUNSET than say, ALLADIN: PRINCE OF THIEVES. Seeing Buzz, Woody and the gang accept death is has a haunting quality based in your seven year-old recollections of these toys.

But the new toys are pitch-perfect too, from Ned Beatty's strawberry-sweet villain Lotso to the informant telephone toy to the improv theatre troupe that Woody runs into. But Ken steals the show, in a truly amazing collaboration between the Pixar artists and Mr. Keaton. Whenever the film feels like it might be getting a little too dark, Ken shows up to remind you of the pure entertainment value of these films.

TOY STORY 3 is a stunning achievement, probably the best of the films in what will have to be considered as the greatest children's series of all time.

THE KID STAYS IN THE PICTURE allows me to make a tangential reference to a Tony Scott movie!

Have you heard Patton Oswalt's bit on Robert Evans? If that doesn't make you want to watch THE KID STAYS IN THE PICTURE, I don't know what will. Except maybe that trailer - I mean, look at that exploding glass effect!

Basically, the film is a summary of Evans' autobiography of the same name, and is essentially a two-hour TRUE HOLLYWOOD STORY, full of business savvy, sex, and lots of cocaine. Some of the highlights include:

- Evans' claim that he basically invented slacks for women ("I was in women's pants" followed by a knowing pause)

- His reaction to the first time someone suggested Coppola to direct The Godfather ("Are you crazy? 'Cuz that guy is.")

- That he fired Coppola "four times" during the production of Godfather, and that they fought each other viciously for years afterward.

- His constant referring to Roman Polanski as "that crazy Polack."

- An honestly bewildering and astounding montage of the dozens of women he dated.

There's also a weird moment where you start to realize that Evans is pretty much the inspiration for the producer in both WAG THE DOG and TRUE ROMANCE (Tony Scott's debatable masterpiece), even though the performance in TRUE ROMANCE is clearly Joel Silver-inspired.

Evans is a charming and smart narrator, and he's got a few zingers that had me laughing, but there are also quite a few moments of brutal self-reflecting honesty. As a film, I'm not sure that THE KID STAYS IN THE PICTURE has a ton of merit, but it's a scary and fun look at the excesses of the Hollywood scene.

Seriously, how good is RAGING BULL?

I think we can all agree that RAGING BULL is freaking awesome. I can't think of a better looking black-and-white film:

Fun fact: did you know the DP, Michael Chapman, also shot SPACE JAM? And that Jay-Z wrote the immortal Bugs Bunny rap "Buggin'"? Keep that one in your back pocket the next time your friends are playing Six Degrees of Separation.

Anyway, aside from the awe-inspiring visuals, I think what's really interesting about this film is the structure of it: for a story that spans thirty years, it's really a movie made up of long character-based scenes that allow Robert DeNiro to give his finest performance (bearing in mind that I haven't seen EVERYBODY'S FINE). The scene in the prison cell where he goes from punching the wall and screaming "WHY?" to moaning "I'm not an animal" is burned into my consciousness.

A perfectly told story of jealousy and anger, RAGING BULL deserves its reputation as the best movie of the 1980s.

JOSIE AND THE PUSSYCATS is no SHE'S ALL THAT

Do you remember the incredible cinematic year that was 1999? That was the year we got FIGHT CLUB, THE MATRIX, AMERICAN BEAUTY, BEING JOHN MALKOVICH, LOCK, STOCK AND TWO SMOKING BARRELS, THE INSIDER, and the list goes on and on. It was the kind of year that still lives in legend, even if the Oscar for Best Picture went to the Ben Affleck-featuring SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE. Were you reveling in these celluloid discoveries in 1999? Or were you more like the thirteen-year-old me, embroiled in a hormone-fueled scam to separate me from my $4.75 in a little game I call the SHE'S ALL THAT con?

When I was thirteen, all I wanted to do was go to the theatre and stare at Rachael Leigh Cook for two hours. On that level, I was sure SHE'S ALL THAT would deliver (although there was, of course, going to be the regrettable Freddie Prinze Jr. tradeoff). But I had steeled myself mentally for this, and I was willing to accept that devilish bargain. And all of this would have been fine, if I didn't have to take my brother. Instead, I had to pretend that I couldn't find anything else at the theatre, that SHE'S ALL THAT was our only option, and that, "Hey, at least we'll hear that awesome Sixpence None the Richer song."

When JOSIE AND THE PUSSYCATS came out, I didn't even have that convenient Sixpence None the Richer excuse (which, as I have sadly found out, IS reusable). So I never got to see Rachael Leigh Cook bring Riverdale's finest musical act (fuck you, Archies) to the screen.

But now I'm 24, and I can watch anything I want. So when I find a $4 used copy of JOSIE AND THE PUSSYCATS in a garage sale, I buy it. And I am mildly amused by Alan Cumming and Parker Posey going all-out over-the-top insane. I am mildly surprised by the film's anti-corporate message (such as there is). And I fall in love all over again with Rachael Leigh Cook, who fixes a truck (Megan Fox-styles, without the whoreishness), plays a mean guitar (sorta, as long as I don't look at her fingers), and does the whole girl-power thing proud (if we can still call it that).

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to watch that three episode arc that Ms. Cook did in season two of Dawson's Creek.

CONVERSATIONS WITH OTHER WOMEN makes me feel dumb ... and I like it.

An instructor of mine once criticized a script I had written by saying that it was a play, that there was "nothing cinematic about it." That comment has stuck with me a long time, and I think it's because some of my favourite movies could be described the same way. WHEN HARRY MET SALLY. DINER. BEFORE SUNRISE and BEFORE SUNSET. The visuals aren't what do it for you in those movies, it's the characters and dialogue that keep you on the edge of your seat. In that spirit, I present you with CONVERSATIONS WITH OTHER WOMEN.

CONVERSATIONS WITH OTHER WOMEN is basically a 90-minute two-hander between Aaron Eckhart and Helena Bonham Carter over one night. You could see it staged as a play very easily. But CONVERSATIONS WITH OTHER WOMEN dances neatly around that theatrical complaint with its use of split-screen. The entire film is done in split-screen, with each half of the frame focused on one of the characters, and occasionally showing their mindsets. For example, there are scenes where one of the characters tells a story, and in the other frame, a filmed version of that story plays out. There are also times when the frames nearly synch, usually at moments of extreme intimacy.

Sound gimmicky? It is, but it's also occasionally brilliant, especially when the film allows the characters to breathe and forgets about dazzling your eyes and over-stimulating your brain. Aaron Eckhart is tremendous in this film, emotionally devastated and barely keeping it together, childishly selfish and lashing out from beneath a suave exterior. It makes those memories of when they showed you THE CORE in science class (at the end of term, of course) seem like a bad dream. Helena Bonham Carter is also extremely impressive, playing suitably mysterious and vague, alternatively cold and fragile, deeply sad and world-weary with flashes of charm and wit.

There's some great ideas in the film that the split-screen format perfectly exploits, like when the characters imagine alternate reactions within scenes that play out into alternate futures, or when a character says a line and we see how the other hears it (with a different inflection and emphasis). The film starts to layer these sorts of experiments with increasing frequency as the film plays out, to the film's detriment. Just when you're starting to really engage with the characters and their past, the film starts jumping all over the place trying to get you deeper into the psyche of the characters in the moment and showing off cool new uses of the split-screen.

I hate to say it, but it might just be too dense for me - and I mean that in the sense that there's so much to process. It feels unfair to criticize a movie for having too much going on, but that's how I feel sometimes. I'm still trying to process what Eckhart's multiple reactions mean - and which one Bonham Carter is reacting to - while the film has moved on and is showing Bonham Carter's version of their past and is asking me to compare it to Eckhart's version from twenty minutes ago. It gets to be a little much.

Overall, though, CONVERSATIONS WITH OTHER WOMEN is a fantastically unique film with some great performances that I'd highly recommend you check out. I'll gladly lend you my copy. But still, I never had these problems with a play.

ST. ELMO'S FIRE doesn't make up for THE NUMBER 23, BAD COMPANY, or BATMAN & ROBIN

I'm not sure if there's a more reviled director in my social circle than Joel Schumacher. The reasons are simple, and can be summarized in two words: Bat Nipples. He is The Man Who Killed Batman. His filmography can read like a list of the Damned: Phone Booth. 8 MM. The Number 23. Bad Company. But allow me to theorize that there just might be two Joel Schumachers: the one who makes the atrocities listed above, and the one that likes to make small character films like LOST BOYS, TIGERLAND, and ST. ELMO'S FIRE.

I'm not sure that there are two Schumachers - and believe me, I'm not going to turn into an apologist - but there is no way you could tell that the same man made BATMAN & ROBIN from looking at ST. ELMO'S FIRE. There's not a wildly overblown performance in the bunch, neon is kept to a merciful minimum, and, most importantly, there's a grounded human reality to the proceedings.

ST. ELMO'S FIRE kind of reminded me of an ensemble '80's version of a personal favourite, HIGH FIDELITY. The characters are all deeply flawed, even repugnant at times, but there's a basic goodness and purity to the friendships that keep you from being completely turned off. Emilio Estevez is actually the weak link in the cast, but that's mostly the script's fault, as he's given precious little to do except obsess over Andie McDowell. Ally Sheedy continues to break my heart with every performance, Mare Winningham turns in a startling Barbara Bel Geddes impression, and Demi Moore turns in the only sincere performance I've ever seen from her. Judd Nelson plays an eerie Bill Clinton forerunner and Andrew McCarthy rounds out the cast as the depressed loner of the group. The real standout, though, is Rob Lowe.

Yes, STIR OF ECHOES 2's Rob Lowe. I'm used to seeing him in THE WEST WING mode, as the charming well-intentioned genius, but here he plays completely against that type, as the self-destructive, womanizing, alcoholic Billy Hicks. It's a great role, reminiscent of Kevin Bacon's in DINER, but Lowe makes it his own, even when he's called on to make playing "lead sax" (which is, as we all know, an actual thing) look cool (which he debatably does).

The film basically follows this group of friends as they navigate post-college life. ST. ELMO'S FIRE's greatest strength is that these characters have a wide array of problems, and the actors all breathe genuine life into them. The appeal of these type of ensembles is that everyone has a few scenes to shine, and you're never stuck with one character for too long. Schumacher keeps up a bustling pace so you're never bored.

I've already mentioned HIGH FIDELITY and DINER, two of my all-time favourite movies, and I'm asking myself why I didn't like it as much. I think the answer is that ST. ELMO'S FIRE feels like a product of its time - it's very much tied to the eighties, and it occasionally feels like an after-school special. Demi Moore does cocaine and lives on credit, Judd Nelson's political ambitions threaten his personal relationships, and Andrew McCarthy has a secret crush, and this territory verges on the cliché.

So are there two Joel Schumachers? He's got a movie coming out next month called TWELVE which looks like ST. ELMO'S FIRE meets THE HILLS, and it looks absolutely awful (including the tell-tale 50 Cent supporting role). I'm forced to believe when watching that trailer that movies like this one or LOST BOYS were, in fact, happy accidents.

And that the scorn is well-deserved.

THE A-TEAM Wants To Be A Tony Scott Movie So Bad

The opening three minutes of Joe Carnahan's hey-we-haven't-remade-every-'80s-property-yet project, THE A-TEAM, had me convinced that I was about to fall in love.

First, there was the Scott Free Production tag. Y'all know what that means, right? My boy Tony Scott had his hands all over this! Or possibly his hack brother. But then came the subtitles, and I became convinced that Tony had come up to Mr. Carnahan at some point and said, "Joe, you know what would be great? If the subtitles mimicked the actors' delivery and we made the word 'blood' appear in red. Blood red. Get it?" To which Joe Carnahan could only drop to his knees and thank Tony for his unrivaled cinematic genius, while Ridley went off and moped about the Robin Hood opening week gross. And then, after the DOMINO-esque subtitle display made me giddy with neo-impressionistic joy, they went and blasted The Game's "House of Pain" on the soundtrack.

Friends, it was at this point that I seriously re-evaluated my expectations for this film. To be honest, I've never seen the show, but it sounds like a redneck version of Mission: Impossible, and my expectations were somewhere around a Brett Ratner Level (a BRL, for those hip to the acronym game). But Tony Scott-inspired visuals and a hip-hop soundtrack? I began to suspect that this film may have been made just for me.

Sadly, Jessica Biel shows up and there's a oddly dated "Three Kings"-ish inspired subplot and Carnahan decides to go to full-out cartoon mode in the third act, and you end up with something that, while certainly not at BRLs of disappointment, is nowhere near the frenzied delirium of a Tony Scott film.

THE A-TEAM does have one remarkable sequence, where the squad jumps out of a plane in a tank when they're shot down, only to have the tank shot down as well. The scene is full of tension, humour, and some insane action beats. There's also some fun stuff with the CIA characters in the film that recalls the more madcap moments of Carnahan's earlier effort, SMOKIN' ACES.

But at the end of it, I just wanted to see a Tony Scott version of this. Or THE LOSERS, which I liked better.

THE DEPARTED vs. INFERNAL AFFAIRS: There should be only one

I try not to be one of those guys who hates something once it gets popular. I like discovering things, feeling like I'm in on a secret, but I also love being part of a cultural movement that appreciates an artist given the budget to do whatever they want.

Martin Scorsese is finally enjoying the mass popularity he so richly deserves. MEAN STREETS? AFTER HOURS? RAGING BULL? GOODFELLAS? All exceptional films, undoubtedly the work of a master. But the film that really kicked off this Marty love-fest is THE DEPARTED, a remake of a Hong Kong film called INFERNAL AFFAIRS.

But I really don't like THE DEPARTED, and I'd rather watch INFERNAL AFFAIRS almost every time. I'm not against remakes in principal (I think the ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13 remake is superior to John Carpenter's original), or even in Scorsese's specific example (CAPE FEAR, anyone?). But THE DEPARTED takes an overly serious tone to its subject matter and is way too long.

This is a 151-minute movie about moles. That's crazy. If your story is about something we've seen hundreds of times before, you want to make your point as quickly and as entertainingly as possible. But Marty is way too interested in the underlying psychology of the characters, even the ones on the periphery of the storyline. So there's a lot of comments like, "So your father was a drunk?" while people stare deep into each other's eyes.

Am I the only one that feels like Thelma Schoonmaker's been trying a little too hard with the last couple of Scorsese films? It seems like she's forgotten that the best editing is the sort you don't notice. SHUTTER ISLAND had a lot of "Look At My Interesting Cutting" moments, and THE DEPARTED has a ton of distracting cross-cutting in between extended dialogue scenes with seemingly no purpose but to show the similarities between Damon and DiCaprio. And the Jack Nicholson scenes do not add anything to the plot or the character, and smack of contractually obligated screen time.

Not to say that I hate THE DEPARTED. There's some very strong work turned in by Alec Baldwin, Martin Sheen, Damon, DiCaprio, and even Mark Wahlberg. That's a lot of testosterone flowing around, which makes for some great dude moments, like when Leo screams at his handlers, "Do you want them to chop me up and feed me to the poor?" or any time Alec Baldwin opens his glorious mouth. And the Boston accents! Good Lord the Boston accents! At the very least this movie will make you want take a trip to Boston just so that you can hear the banter.

But INFERNAL AFFAIRS has none of the pretensions of THE DEPARTED. It's basically like the pared-down, plot-only version of Scorsese's film. The film sets up the double agents with a relentless opening sequence and moves quickly into the big sting operation where both bosses realize they've been infiltrated - in about half the time of its American counterpart.

This is not to say INFERNAL AFFAIRS is perfect - far from it. Some might argue that the film is too plot-heavy, and that the characters suffer for it. The Matt Damon character in INFERNAL AFFAIRS is played by Andy Lau, and he certainly suffers from a lack of backstory. We never really understand why he's working for the mob, so the ultimate payoff isn't very rewarding.

INFERNAL AFFAIRS also has one of those awful Hong Kong soundtracks of strange J-pop hits, while Scorsese's use of music is still strong: he uses my boy Nas' Thief's Theme (major points Marty), Pink Floyd's Comfortably Numb, and Dropkick Murphys' I'm Shipping Up To Boston in unforgettable and exciting ways.

Really, the titles say it all - Scorsese's film is a character-heavy film interested in death, while the original is a straightforward story of corruption. I wish I could add some of the scenes from THE DEPARTED into INFERNAL AFFAIRS, but sadly, both films are flawed (while fun).

All Copies of xXx 2: STATE OF THE UNION Should Be Frozen In Liquid Nitrogen and Dropped in the Marianas Trench

I'm faced with a bit of a problem.

And that problem is that xXx 2: STATE OF THE UNION is completely indefensible. It is possibly the laziest film I have ever had the displeasure to sit through, insipid and insulting and seemingly scripted by a Mad Libs: Action Films book. Some of you might be saying, "But Brandon, what were you expecting? The film was advertised as being 'from the director of DIE ANOTHER DAY' and starred Ice Cube and the chick from SPECIES III." Sadly, the film performs below even these low expectations - I've seen SPECIES III and even that DTV abomination shows a stronger grasp of basic film conventions than the drivel on display here.

I won't waste more print devoted to a discussion of this film's problems, as that would be a complete waste of everyone's time, most of all yours, but instead talk about the real problem this film poses to the world - the fact that there is no way I can keep it on my shelf where it will be visible to all my friends. I won't even be able to defend it on ironic grounds, as I do when people note that I keep SPECIES I, II, and III on prominent display.

On one hand, I can't wait to get rid of it at my local BMV, where it will hopefully languish on the store shelf, until a thick unscrubable layer of dust and/or sun damage makes it unsellable and some hipster store clerk is forced to throw it in the trash. But what if some other poor shmo like myself picked it up and thought, "Hey, Ice Cube! I bet this is better than TORQUE!" and paid upwards of $5 for it, only to discover that TORQUE looks like Francis Ford Coppola's version of THE FAST & THE FURIOUS when compared to this shit. Side note: TORQUE is also on prominent display in my shelf, for which I will make no apologies.

No, if anything, I need to contain the virus that is xXx: STATE OF THE UNION. I'd love to make some grandiose demonstration of my hatred, like burning it with a blowtorch and throwing it's flaming ruins off my balcony, but that would be to overstate it's evil. People would wonder what compelled me to make such a statement, and possibly feel intrigued to rent it. I can't make this film a martyr. No, what this film needs is a nice quiet abortion, something that will pass quietly into the night and then never be seen again. Like if Michael Bay made a remake of ROSEMARY'S BABY where Rosemary takes the day-after-pill after realizing she was raped in some frenetically-filmed Satanic ritual.

And so I put xXx: STATE OF THE UNION into my Drawer of Shame. My Drawer of Shame is a sacred shrine to the stupidities of my youth, a humbling reminder of things I wasted money on, like my ill-advised 2005 purchase of James Blunt's "Back to Bedlam" or Three Days Grace's self-titled album. I keep these things so that I never get a big ego. Whenever I feel like a pretty cool dude, one look at Linkin Park's "Live in Texas" CD/DVD combo puts me right back in my place. And so xXx: STATE OF THE UNION will reside in good company, away from judging eyes. My only fear is that these horrible forces may some day congeal and form a sentient being.

I didn't like it much.

SPLICE just might be a masterpiece

Much like the Joker's magic trick in THE DARK KNIGHT, the script for Vincenzo Natali's SPLICE sets up its turns with devious simplicity, and then reveals its twist with a delicious (and gory) flair for the ironic.

Horror doesn't usually do it for me, to be honest. Looking at my DVD collection, I see FRAILTY and THE THING representing this proud genre. ALIEN, maybe, if you want to count it as a horror film. The visceral scares of horror might be enjoyable once, but I find a lot of horror difficult to re-watch. It loses so much of its appeal after the first time as you count the minutes until the next character is disemboweled/decapitated/caught in a doggie door in a garage door/etc.

But SPLICE savours the build-up to the scares, delighting as the characters dig themselves deeper and deeper into ethically murkier and murkier ground. The moments in between The Big Moments are what are really interesting about this film, as the script lays out exactly where it's going to go and dares you to call.

SPLICE is holding pocket aces though, and it bets big. Capital-B Big, actually. Adrien Brody and Sarah Polley go full-bore and give themselves over to a script that calls for some huge risks, and not just in obvious ways. In my opinion, they completely succeed. What emerges is a disturbing, refreshing look at a pretty classic story.

I know I'm being vague, but that's deliberate. You need to get yourself into a theatre and watch this movie. And tell me when you're going, because I can't wait to watch it again.

xXx: A Reminder That The 16-Year-Old You Was Awful

It must be summer. Because I just went on a bro-out of epic proportions, picking up a trio of movies that you'll see reviewed here shortly, the first of which was a truly unfortunate choice that will sit in infamy next to UP! on my DVD shelf for years to come...

There's one great moment in the entire 128-minute runtime of xXx (which, let's face it, is probably one more than we should reasonably expect). It's not the part where Vin Diesel co-opts a silver tray and uses it as a skateboard. It's not the part where he jumps through a barb wire fence by turning his motorcycle sideways in mid-air. It's not even the part where where he destroys an entire mountain and snowboards in front of an avalanche. It's where Vin Diesel confesses that he's a secret agent working for the NSA - and Asia Argento just laughs in his face. For a good twenty seconds.

And really, that's the only appropriate reaction to Rob Cohen's Bond-for-the-twentieth-century failure. To laugh in its face.

If the failings of the Bond franchise were that it were too childish, with its invisible remote control cars and cartoonish characters, then the failing of xXx is that it's painfully adolescent, zits and angry half-formed thoughts and all. At least the Bond films' childish nature contains a sort of innocent fantasy element, but xXx substitutes this for a fuck-my-parents-The-Ramones-are-awesome kind of attitude, which, while potentially refreshing, certainly lacks charm.

Vin Diesel's been good before (BOILER ROOM, anyone?) but here he's more than happy to lower his voice and glower menacingly and let the Rammstein soundtrack do most of his work for him. There's potential in the idea of the non-traditional secret agent, but the film is never quite sure who he is, and the audience is never really sure why he's helping the government. He just ends up coming off like a hypocrite, who loves to stick it to The Man but will also help out if it means he can drive around in The Man's GTO and shoot The Man's nifty tranq darts.

Speaking of hypocrites, I am one. Because the exact same character flaws exist with Asia Argento's Yelena, and I couldn't care less, because she is flat-out stunning. Rob Cohen's best choice in this movie was to outift Ms. Argento with a variety of thigh-high boots, and for that, he will have the 16 year-old me's eternal thanks. The less said about his other choice, to have every fifth shot be a Dutched angle, the better.

But still, it's better than STEALTH.

HANCOCK is a very bad thing

Remember when Will Smith was The Man? Hold on to those memories, because mine are fading fast, replaced by shit like WILD WILD WEST, MEN IN BLACK 2, and the second half of I AM LEGEND. But HANCOCK makes those movies look like INDEPENDENCE DAY.

There's an oh-so-brief moment where you think HANCOCK might be an interesting, reflexive study of the super-hero genre, while also being a ridiculous, balls-out insane study of the super-hero genre. It occurs when our man Will is introduced as the drunk, cynical titular character, as a little kid runs up to show him a crime in progress. Smith essentially tells the kid to screw off, before his guilt makes him fly up, up, and away into a flock of birds. And as you're watching Will Smith flying drunkenly through the city whilst holding a 40 of liquor, spitting out bird feathers as Ludacris' "Move" bumps in the background, you're forced to concede that you've never really seen anything like this before.

Unfortunately, you've seen everything else that happens after this. Almost every choice after this one is hackneyed, obvious work from Smith and director Peter Berg (although Jason Bateman manages to wring a couple laughs out of his normal-guy-trying-to-control-a-superhero shtick). Charlize Theron is wasted, relegated to brooding close-ups so that everyone in the audience can win Guess Who's Got a Secret, and Smith's main choice is to show as little emotion as possible, making Hancock an unknowable, cold force at the heart of the movie.

The script can't decide if it wants to be a doomed love story, a brash comedy, or MY SUPER EX-GIRLFRIEND (as if that was a thing that one would want to emulate), and Berg can't decide if he wants to follow Smith, Theron, or Bateman. Ultimately, it fails at doing any of these things.

Peter Berg's breakthrough was VERY BAD THINGS, a 1998 festival darling but one of the few movies I actively despise. It's a film that hates its own characters with a startling passion, and while I've never seen his follow-up, THE RUNDOWN, which I keep hearing is somehow decent despite the presence of both The Rock and Sean William Scott, his third film, the theatrical version of FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS, also suffered from an insincerity about it's characters. I didn't mind THE KINGDOM, which avoided some obvious choices, and actually enjoyed the large action setpiece at the end, but its characters were definitely not the focus and were pretty flat. Mr. Berg seems best when he can rely on large explosions and doesn't have to worry about things like human emotion.

And as for Will? I think we should have realized it was all going south when there was no themed music video for "I Robot".

IRON MAN 2: Better the second time

OK, I'll admit it: I've got a giant man-crush on Robert Downey, Jr. And I don't think I'm alone.

Ever since 2005's KISS KISS BANG BANG (a film that you need to see), Downey Jr. has been putting together a string of strong performances in both quiet (Charlie Bartlett, Fur, A Scanner Darkly) and loud (Tropic Thunder, Sherlock Holmes, Iron Man) ways. I'd challenge you to name an actor who's been doing better, more interesting work over the last five years. Hell, I'm even willing to forget that he was in that SHAGGY DOG excuse for a movie (he's right there at 0:54 for a mercifully brief two seconds for those that want to skip the obligatory "Who Let the Dogs Out?" music cue). The man strikes me as one of the most intelligent working in the craft today.

All of which is a long, overlinked way of getting to my IRON MAN 2 review.

The first time I saw it I was considerably underwhelmed, if that's a word (I can't help it with the links today). Among my list of complaints? The action was geographically confusing, the film was overly infatuated with the Pepper-Tony banter, and that Mickey Rourke and Sam Rockwell weren't given enough to do. But most of all, I really disliked what I perceived to be the darker, more serious tone of the sequel.

The second time around? I had fun. I love the world-changing conversation between Tony and Nick Fury that takes place in a crummy little donut shop. I love the design. I love looking at Scarlett Johansson. I love the dude with the strawberries. I love that Tony synthesizes a new element. I love Scarlett Johansson in a tiger-print dress (although I'm not sure how she pulled a wardrobe change that fast). Etc.

I still have complaints, but they're small in the larger story. I still think the action is not particularly well-filmed (but then again, I didn't like when Genndy Tartakovsky did the pre-vis for Episode II either - someone has to explain to this man the difference between what is acceptable in animation and reality), and that Favreau has a tremendous affinity for Tony and Pepper's back-and-forth will-they-won't-they thing that is never particularly deserved, and that Mickey Rourke is essentially collecting a paycheque, but you know what? This is a big, comic-book movie in the best sense of the word. I'm sure this will be subject to quite a few fond re-watches in the years to come.

In my golden years, if you will.

DEATH OF A PRESIDENT is sadly relevant

I love historical films. The idea that we can continue to re-interpret and find new meanings in our past is something that greatly appeals to me, and the idea that we can have radically different interpretations of the past is endlessly fascinating. In that view, I find alternate histories particularly engaging, especially when they take on a political context.

All of which should help to explain why I loved DEATH OF A PRESIDENT. But those reasons are actually all secondary.

Sure, there's a lot of interesting alternate future stuff (especially hearing the words "President Cheney", a chilling moment to be sure), but what's most interesting is the way the film works as a commentary on the current culture of the United States and its fragile relations with the Middle East. I don't want to spoil some of the interesting places the film goes, but suffice it to say that everything that unfolds is well-reasoned and sadly familiar. It works best when it ruminates on the underlying attitudes and politics of a terrorism-obsessed world.

While the film certainly trades in on its shock value, and serves as a condemnation of sorts for the Bush legacy, it also plays off the audience's prejudices and preconceptions as well, particularly with one piece of audio that is played twice. The audio is heard in a change of context the second time, and reveals a basic assumption the audience has made from the beginning of the film. This particular tactic reminded me strongly of Coppola's THE CONVERSATION, and it's just as effective in leaving the audience thinking. Highly recommended.