Chadzilla ROARS!!!

Where the Wild Things Are (2009)

As the closing credits rolled on Spike Jonze's surprisingly faithful and visually stunning adaptation of Maurice Sendak's Where the Wild Things Are, I could only think about how this movie will probably wind up being embraced by college students everywhere, while callously dismissed by mainstream audiences looking for some good-natured and heart-warming escapist family fare.  I knew that it would be an important film for my son to see, for he is struggling with the same kind of out of control emotions as the lead character, and I am happy that he understood, on some level, what the film was trying to say.

Max (Max Records, being quite the realistic troubled child) is an imaginative and lonely boy that cannot control his anger.  His outbursts are violent and destructive and, after a particular nasty episode that ends with him biting his mother, he runs away from home, escaping into a vibrant fantasy world of seemingly wild monsters.  The wildest of the bunch, and their evident leader, is Carol (voiced of James Gandolfini).  Carol is quick to find a kindred spirit in Max, which is not surprising, as it becomes clear that they are the same person, and convinces the other monsters not to eat the boy, but to make him their King.  Max's paramount duty is to make sure that everybody stays happy and that no sorrow intrudes on their world.  A seemingly simple duty that Max attacks with relish, at first.

Things do not work out, of course, and tense conflicts and volatile emotions between the various monsters soon arise.  The strongest, to the point of malevolence, is Carol's complicated relationship with the far more emotionally mature and, at times, maternal KW (voiced by Lauren Ambrose).  A character that alternates between symbolizing Max's mother (Catherine Keener) and his sister, Claire (Pepita Emmerichs).

Where the Wild Things Are is not a "hero's journey" film.  There is no emotional or psychological learning experience story arc for its human character to go on.  It only covers a few hours of time and only concerns itself with Max's highly subjective coming to awareness of his need for emotional maturity, responsibility, and control.  Just how much Max actually learns during his time with his emotional monsters is left for the audience to decide.  There is no happily ever after at the end.  It is a daring and challenging risk for a film of this nature and genre to take, and it is all the more rewarding for doing so.

Three stars out of four. 

Underworld: Rise of the Lycans (2009)

"I should have killed you when you were born!"

The love between a Lycan slave (Michael Sheen) and the favored daughter (Rhona Mitra) of a member of the Vampire nobility (Bill Nighy) causes war to break out between the monster factions.

I walked into Underworld: Rise of the Lycans cold, not knowing a thing about either Underworld or its sequel, Underworld: Evolution, because I have not seen either film.  Since Rise is a prequel that sets up the events of the first two movies, I figured that this would be as good a place as any to start.

Oh, how quickly I forgot the bitter lessons that the Star Wars Prequel Trilogy had tried to teach me.

Since I have NOT seen the first two films - but will now do so, just to deepen my clearly limited knowledge of the Underworld series mythos (and to check out Kate Beckinsale's oh so lovely backside) - I cannot say if this series entry is step up or step down.  Taken with a fresh pair of eyes, I was disappointed with the workmanlike routine with which the film's story plays out.  The supposedly unique and culturally taboo love that Lucien and Sonja share isn't explored or even set up.  It is nothing more than a McGuffin used to unleash a barrage of action set pieces rendered chaotic and confusing by the rapid fire editing of Peter Amundson and Eric Potter.  Special Effects Artist turned Director Patrick Tatopoulos keeps the film's pace brisk, which only draws attention to how perfunctory the whole thing is.

The liner notes for the compact disc release of Lalo Schifrin's score for The Dead Pool described that film as being "the closest thing to a modern day 'quota-quickie.'"  I think that term could be used to describe Underworld: Rise of the Lycans.  It's a serviceable and only moderately entertaining paint-by-the-numbers B-grade action/fantasy movie, nothing more.

The Spirit (2008)

After rookie cop Denny Colt (Gabriel Macht) is killed in the line of duty, The Octopus (Samuel L. Jackson) does a little experiment to check if his "super human serum" works.  It does, and Colt is resurrected as The Spirit, a quick healing defender of truth, justice, and...his city.  The Spirit really loves his city.

The Octopus then dopes himself up with his "super human serum" and he and The Spirit proceed to do a lot of fighting, macho posturing, and barking and snarling at each other.  Then a woman from The Spirit's past (Eva Mendes) arrives to stir up even more trouble between the two.

I went into The Spirit expecting a bad movie (the few reviews I read prior to seeing the film have been very negative) and my expectations were met.  The Spirit is a bad movie.  But I found it to be a fun kind of bad movie and not the painful viewing experience that I had feared it would be. 

It's a gleefully over the top and self-indulgent mess of a movie.  One that wobbles between intentional comedy and unintentional comedy.  At least I think the comedy was intentional.  Hell, there is so much campy posturing throughout the film it had to be intentional.  There are at least three scenes that were clearly played for laughs.  One involved a foot with a head, another had The Octopus and his henchwoman Silken Floss (the fetishistically gorgeous Scarlett Johansson) dressed up as Nazis, and...well, it gets kind of fuzzy after that.  Because the film would whip from campy posturing to hyper-serious noir posturing not only from one scene to another, but even within the very same scene. 

That writer/director Frank Miller cannot control the tone of The Spirit is only one of the many problems that keeps it from being a recommendable film.  He also cannot tell a coherent story to save his life, nor can he direct actors.  Most of the cast looks hopelessly lost on the visual sea of campy eye candy that Miller smears across the screen, especially in the "dramatic" or expository scenes.  Gabriel Macht and character actor Dan Lauria try and tough it out by playing their roles with hard boiled seriousness, while Samuel L. Jackson goes down swinging.  Jackson camps it up to a level that may very well induce intoxication in fans of overacting actors.

This is going to sound sexist, because it is, but the women come out of The Spirit looking the best.  That is due to Miller having them all dolled up in the hottest fan-boy themed fetish wear imaginable.  The best of the best has to be Scarlett Johansson, who wisely picks a one note femme fatal persona to play no matter what is going on during her time on screen.  Thus she is able to comically or dramatically anchor each and every scene that she appears in.

The Spirit is the same kind of silly blast to experience that Punisher War Zone was.  But that has never been the kind of blast that makes for strong ticket sales at the box office.  Expect to hear toxic word of mouth about the film and for it to quietly debut on DVD in a month or two.

Spider-Man 3

I caught Spider-Man 3 last night and I couldn't help but be a bit disappointed with the end result.  Yes, the movie is exciting.  (Physics?  We don't need no stinkin' Physics!)  Yes, the movie is funny.  (Bruce Campbell channels Inspector Clouseau's mangled French accent far better than Steve Martin did.)  Yes, the effects are stunning.  But the writing is lazy, the drama feels forced, and the movie is cluttered to the point that it doesn't seem to have a single narrative thread to move the characters from Point A to Point B and then shuffle them over to Point C.  It's just an incoherent jumble of action and soap opera theatrics.  The legendary Drive-In Movie Critic Joe Bob Briggs put it best when he said, "Too much plot getting in the way of the story."

The weakest aspect of the film is it's supposed main villain, the Sandman.  The character is woefully underdeveloped and disappears from the film for such a long stretch of time that he could have been removed from the story entirely and no one would have noticed.  The screenwriter's didn't even try to integrate the character into the film's central story (which revolves around the symbiote, the corrupting influence of fame, and the simple fact the Peter Parker is a terrible boyfriend), the Sandman just shows up for some impressive action sequences and that's it.  Another example of the film's poor writing is the culmination of the Harry-versus-Peter arc, which plays out with a surprising lack of emotion, surprise, or even an intriguing plot twist or two.

So, my feelings about the film are mixed.  As entertaining a ride as it was, all the bombast and action could not stop it from feeling slapped together and stuffed with far too many ingredients, which made for an emotionally hollow viewing experience.

However, my son considers the movie to be the Greatest Cinematic Achievement of All Time.  So what does an old fart like me really know about cool ass comic book movies?

Retro Puppet Master (1999)

"Let's begin."

On the run from the Nazis, Andre Toulon (Guy Rolfe) takes a moment to rest in a deserted Inn a few miles from the Swiss border.  Amidst the debris, the puppet Blade discovers the remains of a hand carved puppet that Toulon recognizes.  The Puppet Master then tells his beloved creations of how he first learned his secret power, and of how he first met his beloved Ilsa...

In my review of Puppet Master III: Toulon's Revenge, I mentioned that continuity and the Puppet Master series weren't on the best of terms.  Retro Puppet Master (an entry that had been designed, like Puppet Master 5, to launch an all new series of Puppet Master spin-offs) overflows with continuity errors and oversights.  In the first Puppet Master, Toulon is supposed to have killed himself in 1939, but he is somehow alive and well and telling his puppets bedtime stories in 1944 Germany.  To pick more nits, the ending of Puppet Master III had Toulon leaving Germany in 1941, so why is Toulon still in Germany in 1944?  Puppet Master III also made a point of Ilsa being significantly younger than Toulon, but in Retro their age difference is a minor one, at best; and the magic spell used to bring the first generation of puppets to life is also considerably different (and far less gruesome) than the brain removing nastiness utilized in Puppet Master II.  It would be best if you were to just ignore all that and sit back and enjoy Retro Puppet Master for what it is, an hour and fifteen minutes worth of B-grade entertainment.  (Yes, I know I didn't ignore all that, but I'm criticizing, okay?)

While Retro Puppet Master isn't entirely successful as entertainment, it isn't a crash and burn failure either.  The movie gets off to a solid start and, despite a narrative stumble or two, (especially in regards to Toulon's rather lackluster puppet show) it manages to stay strong for most of its running time.  Retro worked best, for me, that is, in its character building moments.  The true highlights were the scenes that focused on Ilsa, who was so strongly played by Brigitta Dau that it became very easy to see why the young Toulon (Greg Sestero, who really shouldn't have used that doofy sounding accent) would fall so deeply in love with her so quickly.  Another highlight was the scene where the Egyptian sorcerer Afzel (Jack Donner) bestows upon the young Toulon the secret of life.  (Having his reasons for doing so echo what the elder Toulon's spirit told Rick Myers at the conclusion of Puppet Master 5 was, intended or not, a nice touch.)  It's just too bad that the movie falls apart during its last fifteen minutes, with a lackluster fight between Toulon and the ancient god Sutekh's resurrected mummy minions.  Nonetheless, Retro Puppet Master has just enough good stuff in it that the forgiving Full Moon fanatic should find something to enjoy.