Terminator: Dark Fate

Linda Hamilton is back as Sarah Connor in Terminator: Dark Fate, and the film’s all the better for it.

When Terminator Genisys came out in 2015, I left the theater thinking, “That was fun, but I don’t need another Terminator movie.” After all, with the creation of alternate timelines, the over-complication of time travel, and drifting further and further from the “do it small and do it well” mentality that James Cameron so wonderfully infused into The Terminator way back in 1984, what could another entry in the long-running franchise possibly have to say?

It turns out a bit more than I thought.

Picking up 22 years after the events of Terminator 2: Judgement Day (director Tim Miller smartly—and boldly—ignores its latter installments), young factory worker Dani Ramos (Natalia Reyes, a convincing “everywoman” and our entry into the story) has her world upended when the mysterious Grace (Mackenzie Davis) arrives. A human enhanced with Terminator-like abilities, she’s been sent from 2042 to protect her, adamant that Dani is integral to saving the world from a future that has yet to happen.

But when they cross paths with Sarah Connor, behind her dark sunglasses and determined scowl is an air of confusion. She prevented Judgement Day, way back in 1995. But as she and Dani quickly learn, the Judgement Day that Sarah and John prevented from happening wasn’t completely stopped, they just kicked the can down the road a few decades as mankind has—as it seems inevitable to do—found a new way to accidentally create the rise of an AI that seeks to wipe out mankind.

If this sounds a bit familiar to past installments, you would be right. But having Linda Hamilton back in the role of Sarah Connor, unapologetically kicking ass and taking names, is 100% the number one reason what makes this movie work. Dani is a good protagonist (the “new Sarah”, if you will), but Sarah (and Hamilton’s performance) is the anchor here—and what a huge, welcome anchor it is. The film wouldn’t be even close to as good as it was without her involvement. Even after 20+ years, Sarah (and Hamilton) is still fierce, capable, and commanding. Hamilton’s performance is seamless and you’d never know this is her first time returning to the series since T2, her performance informed by the new layers the script peels away at her character—grief, anger, obsessiveness, and a single-minded determination. Whether in a mere smirk, a look in her eyes, or body movement, Hamilton is able to convey—and convince us of—all Sarah is going through. And with two decades of emotional baggage, it’s a lot.

Tim Miller & co. made a smart move by choosing to focus on character more than past installments and it really works. The acting across the board is great, with passionate, convincing performances from all involved. From Mackenzie Davis’s fierceness, to the innocence and building intensity that Natalia Reyes infuses into Dani, not to mention the humorous, hulking, committed, and surprisingly emotional performance of Schwarzenegger, each is a welcome presence and from the minute their paths converge and they team up, their quartet really makes the movie work.

The action and set pieces are thrilling and (mostly) relentless, and the film strikes just enough of a nice balance between treading new ground and bringing up elements from past installments to be engaging. There’s also genuinely funny humor peppered throughout the script, whether in Sarah’s zingy one-liners, T-800’s dry delivery, or a character voicing what the audience is thinking. It offers moments of relief throughout the film’s frenetically-paced action sequences, as well as grounding the characters, reminding us that they’re real people with a variety of emotional states. The film has just enough moments of character-driven flashbacks and times of quiet reflection, and allowing these scenes to breath in between the big set pieces really allows the characters to grow and breathe and give the audience the chance to connect with them and be infested in their journeys.

The film drags just a bit in the middle portion (but not for long), some of the action and fight scenes a little too quick and blurry for the viewer to really be able to follow each beat, and I’m still not sure how I feel about the film’s treatment of John Connor, but overall I don’t really have much to mark it down for. I can only say what I would’ve wanted even more of what it did right—more Sarah, more flashbacks and character work, more meditation on the film’s themes. It smartly avoids what Genisys did wrong: over-complicating things. While much grander and spectacle than The Terminator, Dark Fate’s story is simple and familiar, yet propulsive and energetic, spending its time focusing on crafting engaging action and building compelling characters rather than attempting to dream up new ways for the plot to overcomplicate itself with time travel, alternate timelines, and the like, hoping that something will stick.

I really enjoyed Dark Fate and found it to be much better than I was expecting it to be. The film deals with some interesting themes (fate, forgiveness, grief, and whether or not people—and machines—can truly change), and I’d like them to take it even further in the planned sequels of the “new trilogy” Cameron is reportedly spearheading. While fans’ concerns and fatigue over Terminator re-boots, sequels, and alternate timelines is understandable, it’d be a shame if more people don’t see this because Dark Fate is better than it has a right to be, especially after all these years (and all these attempts). My main concern is the direction for future films, as they can’t keep revolving each one about the postponement of the (seemingly) inevitable Judgment Day, but damn if they don’t do it well here.

8.5/10

The Dark Tower

Idris Elba and Tom Taylor are the standouts of The Dark Tower, perfectly capturing the spirit of the books

Confession time: if the filmmakers behind The Dark Tower would’ve made a straight adaptation of the first book in the book series, The Gunslinger, I would’ve hated it. Though the series has a rabid fan base, it’s no secret—even among uber King fans—that The Gunslinger is a bit on the slow side. Not only that, but it’s kind of weird in the sense it’s very easy to picture fans reading it and thinking, as I did, “What is this? Is it a western? Fantasy? Sci-Fi?” It definitely doesn’t conform to any one specific genre. So when news broke that a film version of The Dark Tower was in production (for real this time!), I was both concerned and intrigued that it would be a mixture of aspects from the series instead of a page-by-page adaptation of The Gunslinger.

Having seen the film, is it—and the future of a potential Dark Tower film franchise—better for it? In some ways, yes; in others, no. Combining aspects of the books (specially book one, The Gunslinger, and book three, The Wastelands) makes sense on a thematic and storytelling level since the characters of Roland and Jake are tethered on an emotional level. The film’s partial New York setting also allows viewers a place they recognize which offsets the otherworldly qualities of the worlds and places familiar to Roland. On the other hand, it maybe introduces a bit too much of the series’ sprawling mythology that might throw casual viewers for a loop (pun completely intended).

So do the Pros outweigh the Cons? Is it a faithful adaptation? Is the future of The Dark Tower film series in danger? Let’s talk it.

For those unfamiliar with the basic premise, the film follows Roland (Idris Elba), the last of his people (gunslingers, sworn to protect the titular Tower) pursing revenge against a nefarious enemy called the Man in Black (Matthew McConaughey) for killing his family. But all of that changes when he meets Jake (Tom Taylor), a boy from our world plagued by dreams of Roland, the Man in Black, and a score of other things of which he should have no knowledge.

It is usually the case in book-to-film adaptations that viewers are pleased the characters look the same, but complain the essence isn’t there—the intrinsic sense of what makes them them. In The Dark Tower, the opposite is true: the characters may look a little different from their literary counterparts, but the essence—the coldness, single-mindedness, and skepticism of Roland; the innocence and bravery of Jake—is totally there. And so I wonder of viewers saying the opposite: would they be happy either way?

Idris Elba is fantastic as Roland, perfectly matching the source material counterpart’s cold, loner exterior, his single-minded determination, and proficiency with guns. He’s a commanding on-screen presence and brings an intensity to the role with his body language and expressions that the script sometimes doesn’t quiet achieve, not to mention great comedic one-liners as a fish out of water. He marvels at Coke, hot dogs and, in a particularly humorous scene, gives a New York City doctor a pair of ancient coins for her services.

McConaughey also gives a great performance as the Man in Black, harnessing the psychic abilities of children in attempt to bring the Tower down. He’s darkly comic, both fearsome and enticing, and plays the Man in Black with a sense of dark glee that lets you know he clearly enjoys causing chaos wherever he goes.

But as good as Elba and McConaughey are, it’s Tom Taylor as Jake who’s the real standout. Jake is saddled with much of the film’s big moments and Taylor couldn’t be more perfect. Ranging from portraying a haunted sadness that no one believes his dreams, to fear of the Man in Black’s pursuit, to an awe and boyish innocence regarding Roland’s origins, to a particularly pained moment in the film’s third act, Taylor nails the role and Jake’s emotional journey and it’s not hard to see why the decision was made for the film to feature him so prominently.

As good as Elba and Taylor are individually, it’s when they come together—the Roland-Jake relationship—that’s the highlight of the film. Jake’s innocence and candor softens Roland’s hard exterior, while Roland provides the role of a father figure Jake’s been missing. The scenes of them bonding, trusting, and learning about each other are pure magic, completely capturing the spirit of the books, and sure to make dire-hard Dark Tower fans pleased the filmmakers understand the relationship’s emotional beats. (Among their screen time together, one scene of Roland teaching Jake how to shoot while reciting the gunslinger’s credo gave me both chills and watery eyes.)

In addition to the film’s action sequences and Roland’s exciting final confrontation with the Man in Black (which I would’ve liked to be a bit longer), one of the things the film got completely right was the landscape of Mid-World—harsh, dry land; craggy mountains; a barren, alien landscape. The location scouting and landscape utilization is a definite plus. However, it makes it disappointing in a way because when the film got something so completely right as this, it’s barely featured before we’re whisked off to the next location or set piece—the Manni village, an ancient theme park, the Dixie Pig, Devar Toi. All of them work, but the short amount of time we’re afforded to spend in each makes me think they didn’t utilize all the cool settings to their advantage since everything moved so quickly. It’s kind of the equivalent of going to a carnival, seeing a cool ride, and your parent grabbing you by the hand to move you onto the next thing when you’ve only had a taste of the one preceding it.

Which leads into my main issue with the film: pacing and editing. The opening of the film should’ve been a smooth introduction into the world(s) viewers were about to see, but the editing, especially in the film’s first third, was so choppy, sloppy, and jarring, that all I could help thinking was that there had to have been a better, simpler, more streamlined way to introduce viewers to the characters, quest, and worlds of The Dark Tower. Early on, we bounce between Jake, his visions, flashbacks of Roland, and present-day Man in Black. It’s a little much early on. (Aside: as much as I love Jake, I feel like the film should’ve started with our protagonist, Roland the gunslinger.) Because of runtime and budgetary restrictions, it seems they were trying to introduce too much at once instead of letting the audience become introduced to the story’s various pieces at an organic, relaxed pace. It does allow itself to wind down after the climax, but the abrupt ending does leave a little to be desired. A kind of, “that’s it?” without feeding the viewer any morsel of information or intrigue to give them any reason to hope for a sequel.

To say The Dark Tower has a rich mythology is an understatement. Not only are we introduced to a mythical Tower that, if it falls, chaos will reign supreme, but there’s also the aspect of the beams that keep the Tower in place, Taheen, vampires, and ominous graffiti that reads ALL HAIL THE CRIMSON KING. Fans of the books will no doubt recognize the terminology and its implications, but it’s a lot for the casual moviegoer to take in when everything moves so quickly. I’m not so sure the film’s mythology would be completely grasped upon first viewing. While it offers exciting possibilities for potential future installments, it wouldn’t have hurt to have more expositional detail about the more fantastical elements of the story and why we should care.

Ultimately, the film is a case of “More please!” Would I have liked more action? More Roland interacting with the Man in Black, perhaps giving the viewer a deeper insight into their relationship and the mythology surrounding them? More time spent in the Manni village, the Dixie Pig, and all of the film’s other cool locations? Yes, definitely, because these are good things. What’s in the film works; there’s just not enough of it.

I have a feeling I wouldn’t have enjoyed The Dark Tower quite as much as I did if I wasn’t a fan of the books. It’s not a straight up, page-by-page adaptation (structurally or otherwise) and the editing and pacing is a little off, but it’s a good introduction into Roland’s world. The characters and acting all work, it’s escapist entertainment in the best way, and most importantly, the spirit of the novels is fully intact.

The road to a Dark Tower film was a long and rocky one, but now with its foot is in the door, there’s more than enough material for future installments and adventures in Mid-World if we are lucky enough to be invited along on them.

8/10

Ex Machina

Who knew translucent robot torsos could be so cool?

Just because you can do something—especially in science—doesn’t necessarily mean you should.

In Alex Garland’s (28 Days Later, Never Let Me Go) directorial debut, Ex Machina, Caleb Smith, a 26-year-old computer coder who works for a big search engine company, wins a Willy Wonka-esque contest to spend a week with the company’s CEO Nathan Bateman (Oscar Isaac).

Nathan’s house (complex is more like it) is in the middle of nowhere, and only accessible by helicopter. Add that to the fact that most of the property is a windowless subterranean compound, and that should be Caleb’s first clue that something’s not quite right here.

And he’s right.

Caleb hasn’t been brought to spend quality time with Nathan and drink some beers. It turns out that Nathan has developed a fully sentient AI—named Ava—and wants Caleb to see if her intelligence and being is distinguishable from that of a human.

When we’re introduced to Ava (played excellently by Alicia Vikander with both cold detachment and human longing), it’s clear she’s unique from other movie robots, both in her (very cool) appearance and personality. Her limbs and torso are translucent, revealing a mess of wiring and mechanics beneath, “skin” only on her face and hands (an interesting choice to keep the more sensual parts of the body human-like, and the rest mechanical). Ava’s quiet, innocent, and longs to travel beyond the rooms in which Nathan keeps her. And it’s in her talking with Caleb that we start to wonder who to trust here: Ava, or Nathan?

The scenes where Caleb and Ava have their “sessions” are some of the film’s most captivating, due both to the acting and screenplay. Domhnall Gleeson is also very good as Caleb. He has an earnestness about him that plays well into Caleb’s character. You can see his poorly-concealed giddiness at interacting with an AI, his interest—and the workings of his scientific-minded brain—in trying to understand her, and his desire (and then possible shame) of realizing he may want a physical connection with her. It’s also commendable that these sessions feel like real conversations, making for interesting scenes that also further blur the line between human intelligence and AI.

Ex Machina raises some interesting questions. Does a creator have ownership of his creations? What if we can’t distinguish between an AI and a human? If it resembles a human, acts like a human, but we know it’s not, does that change anything? Does it matter? These questions add an interesting layer to the film—and I applaud Alex Garland for asking them—but unfortunately they’re never really explored as much as they could be. Which is ultimately an issue with the film’s overall tone.

Surprisingly, Ex Machina isn’t the thriller the trailers make it out to be. Don’t get me wrong—it has thrilling moments full of tension and dread—but, as a whole, it’s actually quite dramatic (and a little poignant). The paranoia and uncertainty about who (and what) to believe continues until the end but then, once we get there, it’s kind of an Oh, that’s it? (There’s also a slight twist regarding Caleb’s involvement with Ava that seems inconsequential.)

There are moments where the film wants to break out and be that balls-to-the-wall thriller the trailer and TV spots make it out to be, and also times where it aspires to be a quieter meditation on science and artificial intelligence. Both are admiral efforts but wavering between the two makes it seem a bit tonally uneven.

Regardless of its shortcomings, Ex Machina is the kind of thought-provoking Sci-Fi we need more of. It’s not perfect, but hopefully it’s helped pave the way for Hollywood to be on the right track.

8/10

Insurgent

The second film in the Divergent series, Insurgent picks up where Divergent left off, with Tris, Four, and co. on the run after Jeanine Matthews (Kate Winslet) ordered the attack that left Tris’s parents—and countless others—dead. This time around, Jeanine finds a mysterious box that she’s sure contains information that will prove to the world that Divergents should be eliminated. But knowing that only a Divergent can open it, orders all Divergents be hunted.

Release Date: March 20, 2015 Runtime: 119 minutes

A good chunk of Divergent revolved around acquainting the viewer with its world-building—and good world-building, too—so this time around the film is able to spend less time on introducing us to the faction system, serums, and the rules of this dystopian society in favor of more action and plot points. Unfortunately, Insurgent also expects us to be acquainted with the characters. As a result, there’s not any particularly large growth in any of the characters aside from Tris and Peter, making the film’s action feel—though exciting—rather empty since we don’t have a big enough reason to be invested in the characters involved except for those given in Divergent.

This lack of character depth also trickles down to the film’s supporting roles. Despite boasting an A-list cast (including Octavia Spencer as Amity leader Johanna Reyes, Naomi Watts as Four’s mother Evelyn, and Daniel Dae Kim as Candor leader Jack Kang), most of the film’s new additions aren’t given much to do, including those from Divergent whose only purpose with their few minutes of screen time seems to be to remind viewers, Hey, remember us from Divergent? We’re still here! Even the deaths of several characters, scenes that should have a large impact on the characters and audience, are rushed and anticlimactic.

Though the characters aren’t as developed as they could’ve (and probably should’ve) been, Shailene Woodley gives another great performance as Tris Prior. Most of the emotional beats of Insurgent revolve around Tris and her experiences, and she doesn’t disappoint. Miles Teller is also great as Peter, stealing every scene he’s in and injecting the film with sarcastic humor that really adds to his character.

In a welcome change, Insurgent hugely reduces the amount of romance that was present in both the book and last film. In its place are more action sequences and it’s exciting to watch…at first. Before long, scenes of running, shooting, and hand-to-hand combat grow tiresome as the film falls into the formula of characters running from Jeanine, getting into more trouble, and waiting to be saved. However, the special effects are pretty good (including the simulations) and the inclusion of the mysterious box that Jeanine is so dead-set on opening is a clever and engaging way to streamline events of the novel into a more cinematic product.

In the end Insurgent, while entertaining, doesn’t reach the level of its predecessor. It trims a lot of the book’s fat, but character development is trimmed too, and most of the characters—both returning and new—are underdeveloped. It’s still fun to re-visit this unique world with its intriguing premise, characters, and visuals, and it makes for a great popcorn movie, but unfortunately suffers from middle-film syndrome, a bridge between the first and last. Here’s hoping that the next one, Allegiant, is better.

7/10

The Maze Runner

The surprisingly suspenseful The Maze Runner breaks the mold of what audiences have come to expect from Young Adult adaptations

There’s something incredibly refreshing about going into a movie blind.

By that, I mean sitting down in the theater without knowing any details about the plot (aside from the basics) of the film you’re about to see and without having seen any trailers, TV spots, or other bits of revealing marketing which, in this media heavy and trailer-for-a-trailer age, can be a difficult thing to achieve. But somehow I made it happen for The Maze Runner. And I’m glad that I did.

I had seen the trailer back when it was first released, but enough time has passed so that I had pretty much forgotten about it. With theaters already inundated with Young Adult novel adaptations, I wasn’t interested in another and just assumed that The Maze Runner would be another one of them.

I was wrong.

For every YA adaptation that has failed to attract an audience, The Maze Runner should serve as a blueprint for what to do right.

The film revolves around a group of boys of various ages living inside a rural area called the Glade which, despite its pastoral name and imagery, is not as peaceful as it seems. The Glade is surrounded by stone walls hundreds of feet high and it becomes clear that the boys are prisoners there rather than willing residents. They don’t know how they got there or why, but despite this, they’ve managed to create their own little society (which will no doubt invite comparisons to Lord of the Flies).

But everything changes when Thomas (Dylan O’Brien) enters the Glade. Through his eyes, we learn that the stone walls beyond the Glade form a maze that contracts and expands every night, with a group of boys (called “Runners”) going out each morning to try to find an exit.

As Thomas arrives, he serves as the viewer’s entry into the film, asking all the questions that we’re wondering ourselves. What’s the purpose of the Maze? Who put them there? What’s on the outside? These questions are constantly at the forefront of the film and it’s the pursuit of their answers that makes it so edge-of-your-seat exciting.

Whether exploring the relationships of the characters or the mysteries of the Maze itself (which is both simple and visually impressive) as Thomas & Co. get closer to figuring out what’s really going on, the action and tension starts early and never lets up throughout its wonderfully paced near two hour runtime; and, in exploring the maze and the mysterious creatures that plague it (with an eerie combination of organic and mechanical sounds, they’re evocative of Lost’s smoke monster), and fleeting memories of the characters’ pasts, The Maze Runner is a master class in creating suspense not just for YA films but for films in general.

What’s especially impressive about the film is that—although viewers will notice a few hallmarks that reveal it as a YA movie (such as a focus on, well, young adults)—it never really feels like it’s meant for a younger audience by avoiding the pitfalls of YA adaptations: love triangles, cringe-worthy teenage dialogue (and its delivery), and overacting, to name a few.

There are some interesting characters in The Maze Runner so I wish they had been given the chance to develop more aside from the broad strokes (but it’s also tricky since the characters don’t remember anything about themselves). As a result, a little too much is left undeveloped character-wise. The same goes, to a point, for the film’s mysteries. With the film’s central hook—who put them in the maze and why?—front and center, it’s obvious that there’s going to be questions posed. However, too many are left unanswered (which, to a point, is understandable since the book series the film is based on is a quadrilogy), giving the viewer a lot to ponder until the next installment rather than resolving a few questions while leaving some smaller ones unanswered.

The Maze Runner will still be snubbed by those bored with the YA-heavy market, but with its non-stop suspense and excitement, it breaks the mold of what theater audiences have come to expect from YA films, showing that the genre is full of surprises for those willing to be surprised.

9/10

Coherence

Whoever says that there aren’t any more original Sci-Fi movies obviously hasn’t seen Coherence.

Release Date: September 19, 2013 Runtime: 89 minutes

In James Ward Byrkit’s feature-length directorial debut, eight friends gather together for a dinner party on the night that a comet is expected to pass overhead. While they’re together, strange things begin to happen. The power goes out. Cell phones suddenly crack. There are knocks at the door. However, they notice that there’s one house in the neighborhood with power and, hoping to use the house’s phone, go to investigate. To give away any more than that (and what they find when they get there) would only spoil the fun of unraveling the film and its mysteries for yourself. With a film like Coherence that carefully pieces out its reveals as the suspense builds, it’s best to go in cold.

Made on a shoestring budget and shot over the course of five consecutive days, Byrkit allows the focus of the film to be on the characters as they attempt to unravel the mystery around them. Gone are the special effects, big set pieces, and bombastic musical scores of recent blockbuster Sci-Fi films; Coherence is pruned down to its essence: its characters and how they react with each other in the face of an uncertain future.

In the beginning, the amateurish-looking picture and editing feel cheap. However, that slight turn-off is easily forgotten as soon as we’re introduced to the characters. Very early on in the film they feel incredibly genuine. There are no cookie-cutter stock characters here, serving as background or filler. Instead, they each have separate and distinct personalities that are only heighted by the cast’s fantastic acting. With a low-budget indie film like Coherence, it would have been incredibly easy for it to succumb to the pitfall of bad acting. So it’s a pleasant surprise that it doesn’t. The acting is fantastic and the authenticity of the characters is due in part to the actors’ skillful improvisation. Byrkit purposefully shot without a script so the actors would have genuine interactions with each other and mirror the characters’ journeys of discovery. And it works. The character actions have a fresh spontaneity that films that try to script spontaneity can’t seem to achieve (basically any Paranormal Activity-like found footage-style horror), and the film’s free-flowing dialogue is both tantalizing and authentic as it ranges from humorous to tense, and hints at the current and past relationships of the characters.

This is especially admirable since high-concept, speculative films always seem torn with their focus: characters, or style? Coherence doesn’t choose. The characters are developed, while the stylistic choices such as the house’s (which happens to be the only setting, aside from the street) warm lighting creates an inviting atmosphere for the viewer to enter into this fictional world. Because of this we’re tricked into a false sense of security and the tension, suspense, and horror builds and builds until you begin to feel as if you, too, are part of the group trying to figure out what’s going on.

Despite its scientific ideas and mind-bending premise, Coherence has few faults (though ending each scene ending by cutting to black gets old). Though the ending ends up getting tied up in itself by getting a little more complex than it needs to be, it’s almost forgivable since the rest of the film is such a treat. Its premise is original and its plot and execution captivating throughout.

With style and content reminiscent of 2011’s Another Earth and old Twilight Zone episodes, the well-paced 89 minute film manages to focus on characters and plot without skimping on either. As the tone goes from humorous, to tense, to suspenseful, it’s (cleverly) built to keep you guessing where the story’s headed. And though the film’s mystery is ultimately revealed, the film’s characters, ideas, and masterful execution guarantee that you’ll be thinking about Coherence long after the answers are given.

8.5/10

Godzilla (2014)

I’ve never seen a Godzilla movie. That may be hard to believe, but it’s true. I know the basic pop-culture knowledge about the creature and its film legacy, but not much more. But the marketing campaign and teasers (that showed just enough intrigue and monster-induced havoc) for Gareth Edwards’s reboot of the classic franchise made me think to change that.

Release Date: May 16, 2014 Runtime: 123 minutes

In a suspenseful prologue, two scientists (played by Ken Watanabe and Sally Hawkins) are called to investigate a giant skeleton and two (related?) egg-shaped pods, while a nearby nuclear plant experiencing seismic activity collapses. While it’s publicized that the disaster was attributed to an earthquake, plant supervisor Joe Brody (played by a fully-committed Bryan Cranston) is convinced that something else, something bigger, is to blame.

15 years later, it seems as if whatever caused the seismic activity is about to emerge again, and in addition to Cranston’s determined, truth-seeking Joe, we’re introduced to his military son, Ford (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), and his wife, Elle (Elizabeth Olson), who, while great in her role, isn’t given much to do. Taylor-Johnson’s Ford is good in small doses—playing the concerned son or the contented husband—but just doesn’t have the charisma (or character development) for him to become the film’s main protagonist. This could have been remedied by switching Cranston’s position in the film with Taylor-Johnson’s. We sympathize much more with Cranston than the stone-faced military husband. Such a reversal of focus would have made for a more intrigue-based film (while also giving us more of an emotional attachment to the character and his successes and failures in unraveling the mystery and attempting to prevent disaster) rather than a military-focused one. After all, wouldn’t we rather learn about and revel in the unfolding history of the iconic beast, rather than inside information about the military’s plan to destroy it?

To see whether or not these characters are working is to ask ourselves: would we care if any of them met their demise in the film? Probably. But not for the right reasons. When they’re put in actual danger we find ourselves thinking, Aw, she’s such a good wife! or But he loves her! or Aw, what a cute kid! rather than having real, emotional ties to the characters like we do with Cranston’s Joe Brody.

Godzilla’s first half is an interesting, character-driven creature film giving us a chance to discover and wonder and fear along with the characters. Then, however, in a strange twist of events, Godzilla is usurped in his own movie—and he (and the filmmakers) don’t seem to care. Rather than honing in on his origins and the threat that he poses to the world (after all, multiple countries are affected), all sense of a mystery unraveling is abandoned in favor of the appearance of the MUTOS (Massive Unidentified Terrestrial Organisms). Following their arrival, the film’s second half, though considerably more action-packed, is also, ironically, considerably less thrilling. When the MUTOs are on screen, the CGI is impressive and visually immersive, but the creatures as a whole are kind of silly (they look like metal-plated bat-crickets). They don’t evoke the same sense of intrigue that we have for the titular creature, and their presence seems justified to give Godzilla something to fight, providing epic battle sequences and the destruction of entire cities that the filmmakers believe the audience craves. As the minutes tick by, their time on screen lengthens which instead should be focused on the creature for which the movie is titled. (Some possible alternate titles for the movie: Where’s Godzilla?, Find the Nuke!, MUTOS: The Movie, How to Reunite with Loved Ones in the Midst of Disaster with No Trouble at All.)

My familiarity with the source material isn’t too extensive, but I’m not sure how I feel about Godzilla’s involvement in the film’s climax—and the film as a whole. Should we be rooting for the mysterious creature? Or should we be as terrified as the movie’s characters, fearing destruction, the loss of lives, and all that he is capable of?

Despite its flaws, Godzilla boasts an incredibly well-made, focused, and dramatized first half. The music—composed by Alexandre Desplat—is fantastic, doing exactly what a film’s soundtrack should do in this type of film: setting the scene and heightening our sense of intrigue while hinting at things to come. The film overall hits a lot of good points, but it’s also missing a crucial one: letting Godzilla—and the intrigue surrounding him and his history—be the focus of his own movie.

7/10

 

Divergent

Release Date: March 21, 2014 Runtime: 140 minutes

On the tail of successful film franchises (Twilight and The Hunger Games) and some not-so-successful ones (The Moral Instruments and Vampire Academy) comes Divergent, the newest addition to the young adult book-turned-movie sub-genre, based on the best seller by Veronica Roth.

Despite their differences, a comparison to The Hunger Games is inevitable. Both feature young female heroines in a dystopic future, rebelling against some kind of government control. Though, Divergent avoids beings a mere carbon copy of The Hunger Games; it offers enough originality for it to stand on its own.

In the world of Divergent, a future Chicago is divided into five factions—Candor, Amity, Dauntless, Erudite, and Abnegation—and, on their sixteenth birthday, each resident gets to choose which faction they will enter for the rest of their lives. Will they remain in the faction they’ve been in since birth and, by extension, remain with their families? Or will they instead pick a new faction, one that they feel better suits their personality, and risk never seeing their families again?

But it’s not that easy for Beatrice ‘Tris’ Prior (Shailene Woodley) who is ‘Divergent’; rather than fitting into one particular faction, she fits into many—she has the selflessness of Abnegation, the bravery of Dauntless, and the knowledge of Erudite. The film revolves around her faction choice and the repercussions and discoveries that result from it, in addition to a relationship with Four (Theo James), an enigmatic Dauntless leader.

While some fans of the book will no-doubt be upset at the changes from page to screen, Divergent takes the occasionally episodic nature of the book and makes it more fluid. Some scenes are added, spliced, or omitted altogether to effectively streamline and cover the book’s 400+ page count in just under a two and a half hour runtime. But for all the good things from the book that the film is faithful to, it’s also faithful to the bad as well. At times, there’s too much exposition, too much downtime in between pivotal scenes, and not enough supporting character development.

Much like Jennifer Lawrence in The Hunger Games (see, it’s inevitable), Divergent is Shailene Woodley’s film. She plays Tris with a cautious bravery and inner strength that really allows you to get inside her head. And it’s telling that in a pivotal scene, Woodley injects it with such raw emotion that it blows its source material out of the water. It’s also a plus that director Neil Burger allows Tris to narrate the film’s opening minutes. It’s a short time, but the addition of the first person narration gives us a deeper connection to Tris in an addition that The Hunger Games (unfortunately) decided to omit.

Despite the inevitable changes from book to film, Divergent ends up being an otherwise faithful adaptation. It may be too heavy on exposition at times, but its unique twist on dystopia drew me into its unique world enough for me to anticipate the next one.

8/10

 

Her

In the future, everyone wears high-waisted wool pants and has the capability (and, arguably, desire) to fall in love with their cell phones. At least, they do in Spike Jonze’s version of the future.

Such is the plot of Her that finds a lonely man, Theodore Twombly (Joaquin Phoenix), still reeling from his divorce from his wife, Catherine (Rooney Mara). He lives alone, eats alone, and sleeps alone, going so far as to instruct his phone to play “melancholy songs” on his way to work, Theodore fully immersed in loneliness and gloom.

That is, until he purchases a new Operating System for his phone which sounds and emotes like a real human being (Siri, anyone?). The presence of Samantha, as she calls herself (after comically claiming that, in a fraction of a second, she looked through a book of baby names and picked the one that she liked best), offers Theodore the possibility of a romantic relationship, but just how real is it? This is one of the central questions that that the characters (and Jonze) raise and make us ponder throughout the film. Does having only a verbal relationship with someone make the relationship any easier, or painless, or any less real? In a way, it seems like everything is peaches and cream for Theodore since, as Catherine points out, he doesn’t have to do the work that a “real” relationship would require. But as he comes to find, Samantha is more complicated than he expected and it’s with her constantly evolving personality and emoting that she complicates what we think of their relationship, too.

Does Theodore take advantage of the fact that Samantha might accommodate him, to be what he wants when he wants it? In some instances, this is arguably the case. But there are numerous scenes to counter this that show his genuine love for her as well. (Touchingly, for the duration of the film, Theodore clips a pin to his shirt pocket to elevate it so Samantha can view the world from his pocket.)

For a film devoid of action or big-budget set pieces, the film’s weight falls to the shoulders of its characters and, by extension, its actors. Both Phoenix and Johansson carry the film with such captivating grace and raw emotion that you don’t care where the plot goes; seeing (and in some cases, just hearing) them interact with each other is pure magic. Amy Adams as Theodore’s friend and neighbor—her washed-out color palette matching her personality, and a stark contrast to her role in American Hustle—is a welcome addition as well.

Phoenix totally transforms himself into the melancholy Theodore and it’s a real treat to watch as his emotions range from despair to exultant, and everything in between. Meanwhile, Johansson, in just a vocal role, is equally mesmerizing. With a tone of honesty and excitement, Johansson makes us care for Samantha as if she were an actual person. We know she’s not real, but because the emotions are so authentic, by the end of the film, she becomes real to us. It’s a testament to the screenplay and Johansson herself that this is possible.

The film does have several portions where it drags itself down—a comic (then sad) but unnecessary scene where Samantha hires a sex surrogate, among others—and the pacing seems a bit off at times, but for the most part the two hour runtime flies by, captivating the viewer with scene after scene of character-driven storytelling.

In the end, Her is a touching, often hilarious, sometimes sad look at love and loss. While it may seem like the film’s commentary is that we may be too dependent on technology, the dominant message is a more personal one: that loss is always difficult, but that maybe we’re better people for surviving through it.

8/10

Gravity

When I first saw the trailer for Gravity back in May, I laughed. Out loud. In the theater. The much-tread subject of space exploration combined with Sandra Bullock screaming and flailing her arms and spinning around in zero gravity looked, to put it plainly, like a joke. I thought, okay, she’s trapped in space. Where can it possibly go from there? Judging by my own preconceived notions about the “trapped in space” subgenre of Sci-Fi films, my immediate thought was that she encounters an alien planet or alien race because, of course, what else could happen? She’s floating around in space, after all. And besides, isn’t that how it always works in space-set films? However, the way Gravity ignores the ground tread by its predecessors and becomes something original is what makes it so captivatingly brilliant. It challenges you to predict its course and, in turn, shatters your expectations. Because mine were wrong, so very wrong.

The film’s plot is as basic as it gets in its human vs. nature set-up—and yet, it’s so much more. Sandra Bullock plays space newbie Ryan Stone on a mission with veteran astronaut Matt Kowalski (the juxtaposition of the film being Stone’s first mission and Kowalski’s last is notable in its significance). One misfortune leads to another and before either character knows it, anything that can go wrong does.

But Gravity isn’t the film that its marketing campaign portrays it to be. While there are breathtaking action-packed scenes, at its core Gravity is a film about more than just eye-popping visuals: loss, rebirth, the will to live, redemption. More importantly, none of these themes are displayed to the audience in an obnoxious, obvious way. They’re clearly there, but lovingly weaved into the film so that the themes are a part of the film itself rather than clumsily disjointedly from the plot with a neon sign advertising: “THEME HERE!” during scenes of emotional significance.

The execution of such is no-doubt attributed to the co-writing and masterful directing of Alfonso Cuarón, but a good chunk of it also has to be attributed to Bullock’s performance. As Stone, she’s mentally stripped-down, weary, and vulnerable, such a raw performance allowing the film to convey a higher level of realism and emotional weight. While Bullock’s performance is nothing to criticize, the writing for her character needed a little sharpening. Stone’s a strong (yet, at the same time, weak) individual, but the script seems to have her waver back and forth between the two. Though, among a sea of so many things the film does right (dare I say, perfect?), it almost doesn’t seem to matter.

While there’s no sound in space, Gravity wouldn’t be the same without its spectacular usage of sound—or its absence. With a score by Steven Price that is both amazingly assaulting and emotionally nuanced, the film has music that—no matter the tone—is matched perfectly to whatever is happening on screen.

Along with its score, stunning cinematography by Emmanuel Lubezki leaves Gravity’s end result as not merely a film but a rich cinematic experience that offers the clearest, breathtaking visuals and a sensory experience that gives the viewer the feeling of actually being in space along with Stone and Kowalski. While I’m not a supporter of the seemingly endless strain of post-production 3D conversion, Gravity’s 3D is utilized at a near-flawless level. Here, it’s used for depth and conveying the beauty, mystery and yes, horror, of space rather than for cheap shots. To put it plainly, there are no asteroids flying at your face half-way through the movie. The picture is crystal clear, there’s no graininess of the film (maybe partially because I saw it in IMAX 3D) and no shaky shots or any of the usual pitfalls of 3D viewing.

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen such an intense, gripping, emotionally draining film like Gravity and hope I won’t have to wait as long to see another of its caliber. Until then, I can only describe the film itself as Clooney’s Matt Kowalski describes the view of Earth from space: “beautiful.”

9/10