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.