Rogue One: A Star Wars Story Review

While watching Rogue One, the first spin-off Star Wars film, I could not shake a feeling of pointlessness; we all know what happens at the end, I mean, we have all seen the original Star Wars, so what is the point here? The point is box-office dollars for Disney and spectacle for fans, and although it provides some well done eye candy, the movie should have been more.

Characters, for instance, drive these movies into our daily lexicon and pop culture, but I walked out of the theater remembering one name, Tarkin- and he was a character from the original(!), but more on that later. No one character here said one memorable line of dialogue, did one memorable thing, or looked memorable. Actually, that is a lie; C-3PO makes a cameo, and I remembered his name.

The plot is concerns Galen Erso's daughter, Jyn, who is the heroine of the film, trying to come in contact with her father, who is a research scientist catalyst to the creation of the Death Star. The remainder of the plot is well-oiled but derivative, essentially recounting the events leading to the first Star Wars while simultaneously retelling it. The prequel trilogy told the story of Darth Vader, a story worth telling. Here, the story is a 133 minute telling of the opening from the first one. Look, if you are going to give backstory on something, make it something we the audience do not already know the outcome of.

The actors all do a fine job, and all physically fit for the role and speak with conviction, but the talk, talk, talk, talk, what is the point of it all? We all know the Death Star plans land in the hands of the Rebellion! It would not have been an issue had they had anything interesting to say, but the people here subscribe to the theory that long, brooding bits of exposition trumps characterization.

But for all the visual effects, the world created here is a bore, planets dirty and grimy with scummy background actors and supporting actors with 5 o'clock shadows. Haven't we seen this before? Whether in another Star Wars film or in dozens of other examples, the universe we see here lacks the punch creator George Lucas so delicately crafted seemingly so easily. The underwater cities of Naboo from Episode I and countless others- they created a world full of whimsy and mystery, and Rogue One settles for dim, dark and dank dungeons and the same cramp spaceships we have seen before. The climax does take our heroes on a sunny beach, but it's resemblance to Florida, or any tropical land, destroys any chance it has at showcasing a truly original world for these aliens to live. Maybe it is a hidden advertisement for Disney World's new Star Wars rides.

It should come to no surprise that there is only one shot of a lightsaber, a trademark of the franchise, and that is okay. But director Gareth Edwards directs this lone shot with such finesse and passion, with a level of anger and thrills that The Force Awakens fumbled so poorly with. It may be a scene that is purely fan service, but call me a fan, as it was the movie's best moment. Its rosy glow and vermilion beam was a familiar, but welcome one.

Oh, almost forgot; remember Tarkin from earlier? He was played by Peter Cushing in the original, and here is a uncanny valley recreation of the veteran actor. His face is all done by computers, of course, but things just do not look right. In the original he stared with a stony glaze, but here, his glaze would be better suited for a CGI doughnut.

Moana Review

Where most animated kid movies rely on current pop-songs to make their films meet the definition of "musical," Moana, the latest Disney Princess flick, aces that criteria and rewrites it. From the directors of Hercules and The Princess and the Frog, among others, this fifty sixth animated tale from the house of mouse tells a rather simple story with a level of narrative cohesiveness that Frozen lost by the time they time Elsa ran off and, sign, let it go. Sometimes restraint can make things grander.

Dwayne Johnson plays Maui, a demigod shapeshifter, who is inadvertingly destroying the lovely world of Moana, played by Auli'i Cravalho, a spunky and rebellious daughter of a village chief. Her mission, to restore beauty and life to her island, takes her not only on and under water, but also across caves and mountains, but each feel distinct, whether it is echos in the former or a passive breeze on the latter. Colors change, sometimes drastically, to paint the mood, and one sharp swap to bright purple roughly halfway through the 103 minute long movie, happens during a song!

On the subject of songs, though only time will tell whether or not they are memorable, not only get kids dancing in the theater but also help move the story along. For example, Maui sings (with surprising grace from the former wrestler) a humorous theme song to boast about his achievements, with a thick layer of cocky machismo of course, to distract titular Moana while he attempts to steal her boat. Lesser films would have simply injected a song before using trite dialogue to progress the story. And it happens again, when Tamatoa, a giant crab who likes shimmering things (trust me, it makes more sense when watching the movie), moves character development along in an otherwise random tune about his shiny shell. Only the best musicals make the songs feel integral to the plot, and of Disney's own, this is an achievement.

The animation itself, predominately 3D but with some 2D work, is exceptional, crafting a lush world, often with jokes both in the foreground and in the background. Wide pans of the camera expose the peaceful village doing mundane tasks with the level of goofy charm that only the directors of Aladdin could conjure up. Late in the film the top-billed duo are pursued by a gang of coconut pirates, where seemingly thousands of animated coconuts captain a Brobdingnagian ship in a large scale portraiture of swashbuckle and slapstick.

Distinct here is the lack of a love interest, for either of the main characters, which trades our ears another sappy love song for one of the more creative compositions here. More importantly it gives our heroine more important things to think about than a man, and trust me, I am a guy and I cannot think of another reason why woman put up with us other than for procreation. But most egregious is the lack of a solid villain, perhaps the only gripe here. Half the fun of Disney films are the villains, especially when you have the makers of Jafar and Doctor Facilier helming this one.

Its Hawaiian-backdrop is a wise one; a destination pined for by many on their pipe dream of a vacation, takes liberties only to exaggerate what is wonderful about the environment. Right down to the sand, so detailed you would swear you could feel the grainy material under your bare feet. Compare that to other, less films, whether from Disney or a rival: Zootopia, a fine film in its own right, simply replaces humans in sprawling urban landscapes with animals- what world does that create? Or The Secret Life of Pets, where similar cityscapes contain both humans AND animals, albeit a highly caricatured one. Here, you want to be in this world, both the real and the cartoon versions.

One peculiar thing I noticed was that when Moana, marked the next chief of her village, goes against the tradition of her father (and his father, and so on) by placing a seashell instead of a stone slab one the top of the long aforementioned mountain top. The film ends with a seashell atop a tall tower of flat rocks, presumably signifying her love of the ocean, but what does the next chief do? Crush the shell by placing another stone? Or do they put another seashell on top? I do not think those stack too easily.

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them Review

I can imagine that J.K. Rowling, in 2011 after the premier of the last Harry Potter film, looked at all the money she had made and said "yeah, I'd like to make more," which is exactly how this film ends up feeling. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them is the name of this first Harry Potter spin-off, and it achieves something only the first two film's could: whimsy. The plot, in where Newt Scamander, played by Eddie Redmayne, arrives in New York with a suitcase packed with fantastical creatures, and inadvertently unleashes them in the Big Apple. He and his friends set off to recapture them, and this sort of "monster-of-the-week" story helps imbue the 133 minute long film with more fancifulness than all of director David Yates' previous Harry Potter films combined.

Every creature, there are only a handful to collect, range wildly in size, shape, and visibility, and these computer-generated monsters are charming with a certain "bull in a china shop" behavior. This alone should have been the movie; having a group of heroes try and acquire all of this lost creatures without being noticed by non-magic folks, in the film called "No-Maj." But there is a needless story about evil "Obscurial" reeking havoc on the city, an ill-defined threat that drags the film's early scenes of energetic fun into a tired exercise of bleak politics and a most exhausted "good vs evil" plot device.

Newt's friends include Tina Goldstein, played by Katherine Waterston, a frisky and often ignored witch, Jacob Kowalski, played by Dan Fogler, a portly muggle- oh sorry, "muggle" is synonym for the aforesaid "no-maj." Hey, these movies do not make money based on consistency. There is also Queenie, played by Alison Sudol, the younger sister of Tina who falls for our corpulent human. Their lack of initial chemistry becomes their chemistry by the time the curtains close, who have a welcome awkwardness to all their hand holding and flirting. Rounding out the supporting cast are Credence Barebone, played by Erza Miller who gives an uncomfortable performance that treads the line of good guy and bad guy, and Collin Farrell, who plays Percival Graves and is in charge of capturing our hero Newt due to the Magical Congress of the USA, or MACUSA for short, believing that he is responsible for the mysterious "Obscurial" that has been troubling the normal people of NYC.

But that leaves us the audience with two options for Graves, as we know Newt is not accountable for this "Obscurial:" either Graves is wrong, or he is a bad guy. There is no other option for him, and by the time the film's twist rolls around, the audience groans having already knew it several scenes ago. Plus, his name sounds like it should have "Darth" before it- but I digress.

The actual nuances of the plot are simple only on the surface, and threads of complexity instantly turns into bogged confusion, and to attempt a summary using my "no-maj/muggle" fingers would do no justice to its fans, so I won't. But there is something here that still makes no sense; a wand is what grants wizards and witches their power, but in several scenes here a simple twitch of the hand can summon magic. How!? There have been nine films and they still do not explain this? Maybe they did and I just fell asleep- if that is the case, I bet it was during Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

Fabulous character Jon Voight makes what feels like a cameo, playing the father of a US senator who is killed by the film's main villain, that aforementioned underwhelming cocktail of murkiness and CGI. He carries his scenes with a sense of importance even when his only part in the film is bulking filler. But there is a scene at the end, where the final big action set piece takes place and all the nearby "no-maj" crowd and stare in confusion and distraught. The wizards, once the dust settles and the post credits are nearing, decide to use a most convenient potion which wipes clean the memories of all the human spectators. That got me wondering, does that mean Jon Voight's character will just forget his son's death just like all the magical explosions he just witnessed? I am sorry, but that is terrible and inexcusable- even if it is just a fake-movie-father and a fake-movie-son. I hope at least they attended the fake-movie-funeral.

Doctor Strange Review

Doctor Strange is perhaps the least "Marvel" of any Marvel film; one part low-rent sci-fi film, two parts Harry Potter, with a dash of Star Wars. Only it cost more to see, is less whimsical, and is less entertaining.

Doctor Strange himself is not so much a marvelous man but a man made of the parts of other more marvelous people. His attitude more smug than Roger Moore's James Bond or Tony Stark, only with less glib quips to reply with. But his intelligence, apparently he is a world acclaimed neurosurgeon, is matched by no other, except when he drives his expensive looking car, and passes cars at high speeds on a twisty road like a high school flunky trying to impress his date. Hopefully in the inevitable sequel he will take bus.

And in one particularly egregious scene, bad guy Kaecilius stomps on by and defeats a long-trained "sorcerer" of good almost as soon as he is introduced. Yet when our hero is attacked, one with significantly less training, he is able to dodge attacks and trap, or well, seemingly at least, the attacker. Doctor Strange should be named "Doctor Lucky."

But his powers, the powers of waving his arms and summoning fighting utensils, are completely his own; I have never seen another movie where the hero fights with glowing yellow lines of CGI.

The visuals, the film's primary selling point, are grand and spectacular, but they are undermined by the excessive exposition, which provides constant yet cloudy reasons behind every crazy sight flying from the screens and towards my 3-D glasses. You know the best scenes in Ridley Scott's 1979 flick Alien? They are the ones where your eyes are in awe at the wondrous visuals, and leave your mind to fill in the blanks. Here, everything is explained, but it is filler explication of metaphors and pompous statements under the guise of answers.

The action is surprisingly brief here, but with all the talk of other dimensions it is a shame everything dilutes to generic kung-fu fight scenes over green screen set pieces. And with so much happening on buildings that are being twisted and turned, punches or throws lack any weight. My ears tell me there is a body being tossed around, but that contradicts what my eyes tell me.

Look, I am not adverse to silly, excessive visuals; remember, I gave Independence Day: Resurgence three stars. But here, there is no fun in all the visuals. Everyone speaks in somber tones and of this looming threat of the evil villain and his evil intentions, that there is not any room for energy or the impression that doing good can be, even once, enjoyable.

The plot is loquacious and confusing, and is only aided by the visuals, so I scoured the film in tedium looking for oddities to keep me from falling asleep in the leather reclining chairs. One thing to note is how the good guys keep their books, thick with the many secrets to the over-explained yet somehow opaque powers. Yes, they are kept in a library, but the most important ones are suspended with front facing with chains. First thought was these chains prevent those unworthy from opening them, but these chains broke free by any character who touches them- so why have them chained? There is a throwaway gag not far in the movie about the wifi password, but why these uber-important books are not digital only seems like an oversight; this Kaecilius guy does not look the type to be very good with computers. Plus, it would have saved the poor librarian, in the film's cold opening, a decapitation.

Hacksaw Ridge Review

 

Ever hear of that 90's flick From Dusk till Dawn? It is a cult classic film, famous for numerous things but perhaps most for its abrupt tonal shift; starting as a cold, bloody thriller to a bloody vampire flick. Right now, and for about half the film, the Robert Rodriguez feature has nothing to do with with Hacksaw Ridge, the latest Mel Gibson film. Things begin so innocently, telling the story of two young boys play under the overbearing supervision of their mother, played generically by Rachel Griffiths, and the passive disinterest of their soused father, played more effectively by Hugo Weaving. One day, during rough play, our main protagonist, Desmond, picks up a nearby brick and slaps his sibling, Hal, in the face. This solidifies his faith in God and sets the religious and anti-violence theme of the remainder of the movie, but it is such an unanticipated and brutal scene that it is difficult rooting for someone who we were introduced to smacking his brother with a brick. Maybe the film is actually a metaphor for poor parenting.

Years later, Desmond, sans brick, is grown up and becomes infatuated by a local nurse, played by the very charming Teresa Palmer. They meet by chance, but our protagonist wastes no time asking her out, then for her hand in marriage. The two almost have a chemistry, but Desmond, played by the dopey faced Andrew Garfield, does his best impression of Forrest Gump, giggling and looking unconcerned throughout much of the 131 minute flick. And even when he channels emotion, he still cannot help but add an ounce of smugness.

Desmond joins the army, in the footsteps of his brother, but as a conscientious objector, with the intent of becoming a medic. His squad consists of one-dimensional guys, all with a single niche that serves as the only way the audience can identify them, i.e., there are two guys who gamble, one who reads, one who dreams of going to Hollywood, you know the drill. Under command of Sergeant Howell, played by Vince Vaughn, gives a bizarrely bipolar performance, who goes from barking orders with a goofy sense of misplaced humor to genuinely displaying compassion for Desmond at whim. Perhaps that is another one of Howell's eccentric jokes.

He passes each day of training with flying colors, that is, until he is instructed to pick up a gun, which he refuses. This leads to scenes of impotent courtroom drama, where his otherwise drunkard father swoops in to save his son from going to prison for insubordination. Charges dismissed, Desmond and his team get sent off to the Battle of Okinawa, where they must climb the titular "Hacksaw Ridge."

Remember when I referenced "From Dusk till Dawn?" Remember that almost egregious shift in tone? Well, that change in tone is escalated here, where blood splattered from both sides of the war, guts explode out of soldiers and there is an almost voyeuristic focus on the numerous decapitations and gunshot wounds. But it never lingers on any image for long, as there is always another soldier to watch- watch as his head vomits his brain from an unseen marksman. There is zero relief from the onscreen violence, and even less preparation for it, as this harsh tonal change happens without warning. It is a rollercoaster ride, only it is one that once you drop, you never stop dropping; I wish I was not tall enough to ride it. The remainder of the movie reaches down your gut and rips up what ever it could grab.

The film depicts the adversary, the Japanese military, as hollow gunslingers who are happy charging blindly into the Americans. There is no identifying with them, they have no personality and are as mindless as an extraterrestrial in a summer blockbuster. And when the Americans win the battle, the film expects you to share the victory with them, to share the patriotism. Look, I know what happened, and I know that this is a movie, but for a film that begins so anti-gun and anti-violence, there is a lot of killing of man. There was a guy in the seat behind me, who spend the entire movie coughing like he was auditioning for a cold medicine commercial. I am not sure which I was more disgusted at.

I can admire the film's craftsmanship and appreciate it's brutality, and it gets high marks for its professionalism and effectiveness. But walking out after seeing it, I felt uncomfortable and fatigued, and even with a happy ending, I did not feel happy. If you go into the theater already disliking the notion of war, this film will make you hate it. And you will also hate yourself if you eat before you see it.

Shin Godzilla (Godzilla Resurgence) Review

I cannot remember a movie with two official names, but the latest Godzilla movie has just that: Godzilla Resurgence and Shin Godzilla. It is from Toho, creators of the kaiju franchise, and is playing in select theaters this week. Is it a good film, worthy of the twelve year hiatus (not counting the American one)? Well, if you are excited about seeing the cultural phenomenon on the big screen, then you have nothing to fear; if you are not excited, you will not be excited during any minute of the two hour long creature feature.

Playing as a precursor to the franchise, we watch the Japanese government, army, and public, try to deal with the sudden appearance of the building-busting behemoth. Only it is not quite the Godzilla we all know and love, and in the interest of keeping things spoiler free, shows that even decades later, Toho keeps pumping out new little tricks and twists to the dorsal finned beast.

But here, like Gareth Edwards' 2014 film, directors Hideaki Anno and Shinji Higuchi focus quite a bit on the human characters, unfortunate, considering the English release is subtitled and not dubbed. This leaves your eyes scattering from reading the sometimes, whether intentional or not, awkward dialogue to observing in glee as tall towers crumble to the titular man in a rubber suit. It does not help that these long sequences of conversations are constantly introducing characters and changing locations. The quick zapping from set piece to set piece should keep keeping kiddies from becoming bored during the otherwise drawn-out pieces of dull dialogue. But all this while exploring interesting camera angles and almost humorous quick-cuts, it becomes a disorientating experience, particularly while quickly scanning the screen trying to read what the next new politician is saying, only to find our growing group of actors are in a completely different location.

Illusions to current Japanese and world events, the film is smarter than what you would expect from a giant monster movie, but like real-world politics, there are simply too many people to keep track of to truly feel any connection with them, rendering Godzilla's fairly sparse screen time a minor disappointment. He at least looks fantastic, a good mixture of CGI, animatronics, and good old fashioned rubber suits, all with a refreshingly retro and rather menacing look. But his movement is robotic, and he exploits none of the moxie of earlier films; he seems almost pleased to just be walking in an almost straight line, and destroys a building only on occasion. He is on screen much more than the aforementioned America movie, but most of the time, he is just standing still.

Its unique cuts and camera movements give this film a very modern and a superficially fast paced feel, but audiences have already seen, many many times, men in suits discussing how to eliminate the threat. There is a scene when the current "way to kill Godzilla" is to use a blood coagulant, and we witness canister after canister of the stuff; why did we need to see this? I would have rather the budget for all those canisters go towards another building for Godzilla to destroy.

Sully Review

Tom Hanks convicts so much power and steals each scene he is in, in the new Clint Eastwood film, Sully, a film made nearly all by his presence. Playing Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger, a pilot who miraculously lands a plane on the Hudson when both engines were blown just after take off when the plane hit a flock of birds. As if Alfred Hitchcock did not already give us enough reasons to hate birds.

He learns that the National Transportation Safety Board have launched an investigation, calling out that their tests prove he could have landed the plane safely on the runway he initially took off. There is more stuff here, more with the investigation, however their motive is generic movie "villain," where slimy businessmen, including a surprisingly effective Mike O'Malley as Charles Porter, do slimy things to our protagonist. I realize this is based on a real story, and not the "Blair Witch Project" kind of real story, and that this disagreement did actually happen. But the film gives the antagonists little to do except point the finger and learn their at the end of the ninety six minute long film. The highlight is Tom Hanks, a man disturbed by what could have happened instead of what did, as well as the realistic plane crash scenes. Those alone are enough to make you never want to fly again.

The other performances, including Aaron Eckhart as first officer Jeff Skiles and Laura Linney as Sully's wife Lorraine, are all fine, but their dramatic weight is light compared to Hanks. It is particularly obvious when Sully and his wife speak over the phone (which is their only means of communicating throughout the film), that Tom Hanks is in control of each scene, and Laura can only do her best not to forget her lines.

When the plane crashes, which we see various bits of and various variations of, there is technical jargon spat out by the pilot and first officer as the aircraft comes burning down, and honest panic by the passengers; the film should have spent more time here. We believe everything that happens, and when the ship went down, I felt as if I was one of the passengers with their tray table up and their seat in the full upright position.

There was this group of kids, rowdy teenage boys who heckled throughout the film, however, when Tom Hanks spoke, they quieted down. His performance is that good. And aside from some thrilling crash scenes, he is the best thing in an otherwise run-of-the-mill film.

Suicide Squad Review

There are three things good in Suicide Squad, DC Comic's latest big budget movie: Margot Robbie's body, Margot Robbie's outfit (because it shows off her body), and Will Smith's performance. Only Will Smith should have known better than to headline this trash, playing Deadshot, a marksman and assassin who never misses a shot. He gives the character a charming disinterest of the goofy and illogical plot. He also seems to ignore the unconvincing CGI of the main villain; it seems everyone making the movie did too.

The film follows a team of bad guys, enlisted in case the next "Superman" is not so nice (I guess Batman, briefly shown here, is too mean). Viola Davis portrays Amanda Waller, the ringleader of the bunch of bandits and is depicted as this film's "M" from the James Bond movies. She is curt with a stone cold expression, never trusting the group of goons she has contracted out of their prison cells. She puts them under command of Colonel Rick Flag, played by Joel Kinnaman, who is on the field with the titular crew of creeps. Injected with a rice-size explosive in their necks, it takes just the push of a button (or rather a touch on a cell phone) to exterminate the baddies if they act out of line. Fortunately, because simple exposition is not enough, the film hastily tosses in Slipknot, late in the film and without fanfare, and has him attempt to escape just so we can see a PG-13 version of his head explode. I guess her team of rapscallions better play nice, as nothing makes antiheroes behave like watching a tertiary character die behind censors.

Plot-wise, the Suicide Squad is birthed just in time for the Enchantress to start causing trouble, possessing the body of June Moone, who is the girlfriend of Mr. Flags. Her brother is summoned to aid her, and the two build an unimpressive army of faceless humanoid beings, who's body parts crumb or shatter off without any ounce of blood or guts. I mean, gotta keep the MPAA-rating as low as possible.

Will Smith and friends enter and scale a skyscraper to escort Waller out of the building, where a fight breaks out in several of the floors they climb. It is a bland showcase of hand-to-hand combat and gun shots as they finally reach the desired floor. There is a hiccup with the escort, and now the bad guys must battle on the streets to take down the Enchantress; things turn even more typical here, with violent but unsatisfying battle scenes. Her brother proves too strong for our (anti)heroes to defeat, but is swiftly killed anticlimactically by the flame summoning El Diablo, a forgettable and underdeveloped member of the Suicide Squad, who conveniently can turn into a fiery CGI creature at just the right time. I won't spoil what happens next, though you would thank me for saving you the price of admission.

There is absolutely no time spent on character development here, with the film spending all its time on boring fighting and half-assed jokes. Its opening title shot is bright and colorful, as is credits, but the film is dark and gloomy, painful attempts at humor injected artificially. It introduces its characters in a very reality-television way, with short descriptions that appear next to a photo of them. That works, its a playful way to announce its stars, but minimal screen time and zero development leaves the evildoers shallow.

Jai Courtney plays Captain Boomerang, the exact kind of supervillian you would expect when they have run out of ideas for decent characters. He throws a boomerang and speaks with a painfully thick Australian brogue. He also is a thief before being caught by authorities, and that is all you get for backstory here. But that is more than Killer Croc, a human crocodile who is just more strong than your normal man. He snarls and growls, and swims well. I did not even know he could talk until almost halfway through he film, right about the same time he, in one of the movie's many deadened stabs at telling a joke, checks out Margot Robbie as she walks seductively away. How funny, how very, very humorous.

That leaves us to the Joker, played by Jared Leto who receives inexplicable top billing, is barely in the film and hardly necessary to the nonsense plot, showing up in awkward cuts separate from the Suicide Squad as he searches for his Harley Quinn. When he is on screen, we see Jared do his best Jim Carrey impression, almost straight ripping off his performance as the Riddler in the far more entertaining Batman Forever. He does attempt to add some gross sexual nuance to his performance, but I have seen better acting in porn.

The soundtrack is a myriad of pop and rock songs, ripping on Guardians of the Galaxy's pop culture tunes. Only they are a clumsy juxtaposition to the damp atmosphere, distracting from any visual or emotional heft the long 123 minute movie could have offered. And for a movie about bad guys, you wish that there would be more focus on them doing bad guy stuff, not incomplete redemption. I saw this movie at your typical theater; I wish it was one that served alcohol.

Pete's Dragon Review

Pete's Dragon, a remake of the 1977 musical, is a charming, succinct story about a boy and his dragon. You know, because every little boy has a dragon for a pet.

Named Elliot, the large winged beast is forest green with the characteristics of a dog, only with a long neck. Only (well, for a while at least) seen by Pete, he is a myth in the small town told to children probably around a campfire. It is an amalgamation of different sources and what is birthed on screen is an ugly sort of creature that fails to strike the balance between cute and terrifying; looking dopey when either begging for affection or blowing its fire breath. I am not sure how much of it is CG, looks like most shots are completely digital, and looks fairly unconvincing despite its rather impressive rendering of hair, not unlike a Pixar creation. The actors do their best interacting with the computer concoction, with some close shots resembling an actual prop that they can physically touch. I wish that there were more like this.

He is the main problem with the film, the titular dragon, and most nefarious is his reveal, spoiler alert, but it is in the film's opening. We see the flying monster in full, removing any suspense as to what the dragon will look like. And when the characters witness the creature for the first time, their eyes are in awe, jaws dropped, but the audience cannot relate; we are not surprised, in no awe, as we have spent so long seeing the dragon's entire body. It is a shame, because for all the film feels like a Spielberg picture, you cannot help but wish that they learned from Jaws that you should keep things tight-lipped until both he viewers and the characters can simultaneously witness the reveal.

He can cloak himself, which proves most useful, but it is used inconsistently; there is a scene where Elliot ducks out of sight from other humans, but then moments later cloaks himself. Why did he duck? Did he forget he can turn invisible?

Otherwise, he brings some pleasant humor to the film, especially later in the 102 minutes when he searches for Pete at a hospital and peeks through several windows in search of his little friend. He goes undiscovered from harm despite gazing through several; Elliot stares through more windows unnoticed than a slasher villain.

But everything else here just works, its brisk but tender, with some action pieces tossed in for eye-candy. The leads, Bryce Dallas Howard as Grace and Oakes Fegley as Pete, are tremendous, echoing Ruby Barnhill and Mark Rylance from the recent, and superior, The BFG. The supporting cast is hit or miss, the misses including Grace's fiance Jack, played by Wes Bentley and his brother Gavin, played by Karl Urban. But the pluses are big, including Robert Redford, charming in every scene is he is, playing Jack's father, and the only other person who has seen the mystery dragon. Oona Laurence plays Jack's kid, and she nails her performance and comes across more natural than her fictional father.

The film's only other major hiccup is the soundtrack. It lacks the grand score of the most whimsical movies, and instead relies on an underdeveloped score complete with adult-contemporary-like songs complete with vocals. They are nice, but there is no magic for the ears, reminiscent of Phil Collin in Disney's Tarzan. Where's John Williams when you need him?

Nine Lives Review

Nine Lives, from the director of the Men in Black movies and two Addams Family movies, and starring Kevin Spacey, is far from their proudest film. It preys on audience's affection for kittens and shoehorns a sappy plot and tired visual gags. The film's message is not just heavy handed, it is a hand made of lead.

Kevin Spacey plays Tom Brand, the owner of a big corporation who's pet project, pardon the pun, is building the tallest building in North America. He is a terrible father and husband, married at least twice, who spends all his time working. Then, on a fateful trip to pick out a cat for his daughter's birthday, he falls off of his beloved skyscraper, and is transformed into a cat while his body lies in a coma. The man suspected to be behind the body swap is Felix Perkins, played by the wonderfully weird Christopher Walken. Mr. Brand has one week to make amends with his family or he else he will be forever a cat. Does this sound familiar? That is because it is the Shaggy Dog with a dash of Freaky Friday.

Mr. Brand, freshly a feline, first tries to prove he is human to his family, by writing messages in yarn or with alphabet fridge magnets, and acting more like a person than a kitten. This expectedly does not work. What is left is a series of visual puns seemingly left over from the two live-action Garfield movies. But there is a certain level of charm that even the worst optical jokes offer, and if you miss the slapstick of early nineties films, then this is as close as you are going to get in theatres today.

But the problem with all the kitten playfulness is the poor CGI, sticking out like a sore paw when cut between shots of a real cat. And then there is the obvious blue-screen, used when atop the aforementioned building or when Mr. Brand jumps out of a plane in the film's opening shot. A smaller scope, let us say, a story that did not involve a cat jumping off of a building onto a canopy, would have been more satisfying.

While we watch the cat try and become human, there is a side-plot involving his grownup son trying to prevent a corporate takeover of his dad's company by Ian Cox, played by the effectively slimy Mark Consuelos. But its tone, how ever generic it is, contrasts so egregiously with the silliness of the cat story, and if the feline antics amuse smaller children, then the espionage will bore them.

Nine Lives took five writers and had far too much talent in front and behind the screen. But Walken and Spacey, with Jennifer Garner and Cheryl Hines in supporting roles as his wife and ex-wife, respectively, look amused with themselves and there is some fun from their performances. While the script is a very John Hughes' blend of sappy and slapstick, for a talking cat movie, it is about as good as it could have been.

Kubo and the Two Strings Review

Kubo and the Two Strings is the latest stop-motion film from Laika, the makers of Coraline and Box Trolls. It has heavy Japanese influences and beautiful animation, but lamentably not much else.

The plot involves little Kubo, voiced by Art Parkinson, as he embarks on a quest to locate three pieces of his deceased father's armor (a sword, a breastplate, and a helmet), legend has it it is the only thing that can protect him from evil. The evil is his grandfather. His grandfather is the Moon King, a underdeveloped god-like man who wants to rob our little protagonist of his eyes so he can join the "blind" world in the sky. He has already stolen one eye, and sends two of his daughters for the other. Reminiscent of the button-eyes in Coraline, it seems Laika has an eye fetish.

His mother tells of a parable which is thinly veiled to be the plot of the movie, so we the viewer and pint-sized Kubo already know what to expect. Of course, we the movie-goer already know more, as the narrative is far more generic than the darkly twisted world of the studio's debut feature film.

There four major problems in this 102 minute long film, a quadrilogy of issues that distract an otherwise very pretty sequence of flashy color and intricate stop-motion animation. Firstly is the dialogue, its stilted, narrative-driving exclusive dialogue. Every line of text is read like wannabe actor reading cue-cards, where Kubo's mother is referred to as "mother" and, well, you get the idea. I do not know her name, I never heard it mentioned. Perhaps her name is "Mother," which would pretty much guarantee she would have a kid.

The second issue is the "enemy-of-the-week" story, where our hero Kubo must journey to find three pieces of his dad's armor (surprisingly, his dad actually has a name- good luck hearing it said, however). Each piece is protected by a villain, a nasty that plays out like a boss in a video game. Our hero Kubo, or one of his comrades that he acquires along his way, then destroys the boss character and the search for the next enemy begins. It is about as exciting as watching someone else play a video game, albeit a visually breathtaking one.

Third on the list is the visuals- oh, wait, you thought I said they were beautiful? Trust me, they are. Stop-motion has always fascinated me, and always will, but the problem here lies not in the animation, but in the scope of the environments. There is a moment where Kubo and friends walk a snowy path in their quest. We see snow, stop-motion snow, but there is no sense of scale, nothing epic in any shot. The audience never feels wowed by the world created, no wintry vistas no grand mountains. And the film's finale takes place in a small village, the same you would see if you watched any generic kung-fu film. If you are going through all the trouble of making this stop-motion, give me something wonderful to see. Not something I have seen before.

Then we have the most glaring problem of the movie; the film is called "Kubo and the Two Strings." The strings refer to the shamisen (a Japanese three-stringed guitar for those without access to Google), which Kubo carries on his back the entire time. He plays it and he makes paper become living, breathing origami, allowing him to fly or do other things. But nothing else in the film deals with music, and if this is Kubo's "main weapon," if we are continuing on the video game theme here, when why does he need the armor? Spoiler alert, he never truly needs it: his friend the monkey uses it, but Kubo just plays music to stop evil. So why did we need to chronicle Kubo acquiring the items? At least the film did not try and have Kubo's origami creations defeat evil. The worst they could do is give evil a paper-cut.

Kubo, Kubo, Kubo... Kubo. You may have noticed how many times I used the name Kubo in this review, eighteen so far, not including the title. If you decide to see this movie, get used to his name, because it is said more times than "Carol Anne" in Poltergeist 3.

Jason Bourne Review

You ever see a bad James Bond movie? Well, Jason Bourne (no the movie about the character, not the character himself, I know, it is a pretty silly title) is, at heart, a bad James Bond movie; the two even share the same initials! But not in the way "Moonraker" was bad; this is not over-the-top or in any way a fun film. It is plodding, confusing, and downright boring.

The action, which there is a lot of, is shot and edited in a "shaky cam" manner, from what I read a trademark of the director, you know the one, where the camera tosses around with quick cuts. It is designed to provoke a sense of immersion and uneasiness, but the only uneasiness was in my stomach- this is a 123 minute long film pieces together like a music video, only without a catchy soundtrack.

There is a scene early one, where Bourne meets up with a girl only important to the first half of the movie, in Athens, taking cover behind a violent protest against the government. Amidst the plot are shots of the police trying to control a fierce crowd of dissidents, and this is the only portion of the film where the shaky cam works; it makes each scene feel more chaotic and unpredictable. That sort of camera work is not necessary during slow conversations meant to move the muddy narrative along.

But the root of the film's problems is its story; its the fifth in the franchise and obviously is a continuation of the same story. That is fine. But for a long time, I had no idea what was going on, as the movie is not interested in making sure the casual movie-goer has any clue what the plot is. It cares about die-hard fans while alienating any new ones, but eventually you should figure things out. I did, but there is nothing at stake here. Jason Bourne is still, over a decade later, trying to figure out his past, but why should we care? He is a completely ridiculous, unrealistic person, a character who is far from the everyday man James Bond or Indiana Jones sometimes can be. He is a superhero without a cape, and Matt Damon's portrayal seems to be based on Daniel Craig's rendition of 007, only without any of his innate flair or charm. He mulls from one scene to the next, sparsely speaking and plainly looking at his supporting cast or the camera, like a male model but with more clothing on. Someone get Mr. Damon a cup of coffee or something, he is half asleep here.

The movie opens finding Bourne off-the-radar, competing in fights and destroying his opponents. This is to explain how he can take down every henchmen with one blow. But the climax of the film pits Jason against an assassin, called the "Asset," played by Vincent Cassel. They fight, and fight for a long time. Unlike every other person in the movie, this Asset does not go down in one punch, despite his rather slim and lanky demeanor. Somehow, across multiple countries, there is only one person who can take more than one of Bourne's punches.

There is also a subplot concerning CIA director Robert Dewey, played by the always affable Tommy Lee Jones, and some nebulous tech company and the government's secret surveillance on the public. It is a vague attempt on the people's problem today with internet security and their identity and all of that jazz, but this film is called "Jason Bourne," not "Robert Dewey," and little is done to explain or document this side story. There is no tension here; perhaps it is the film's exiguous dialogue, or its nauseating cinematography, or Mr. Jones' completely disinterested and disinteresting performance. He just gives orders, stands in place, sometimes walking, and- oh, once he sits down. Maybe twice.

The Secret Life of Pets Review

The Secret Life of Pets should have been named "Pet Story," as it is about the same movie as the Pixar favorite: two characters with one owner, one being new to the owner's life, they fight, and go on an adventure of redemption. They end up forgiving each other, and the owner shares their time with each of the newfound friends. Seen this one before?

Louis C.K. and Eric Stonestreet play Max and Duke, respectively, and at first they do not get along. Max a small dog, wants nothing more than to play with his owner, and ponders what humans do five days a week (i.e. their jobs). That alone is interesting, and the gang of animals could have been a deeper look on how pets need more attention. Then his owner brings in Duke, a big dog, who wants to share the apartment, toys, food, and owner. Max says no, plot happens and they get loose, and now they need to find their way back to the tall apartment building in New York City.

Max has friends in and across the building, from cats to guinea pigs to other dogs. They get along, despite their species discrepancies, and band together, along with a bird and an old dog, and head out to rescue their friend. This is the best part of the movie, focusing little on character growth (I mean, how much depth can a near-sighted elderly canine have?), and the film flies through scenes with a penchant for well-staged slapstick and visual puns. And featuring animals, it failed to escape the feeling I was watching an updated Looney Tunes cartoon. That is a compliment, as there is a dearth of decent slapstick since the death of John Hughes' writing career. But the film's best joke is not explicit, and it is the only moment of subtlety or social commentary in the entire ninety minute movie: the unnamed people walking around in the busy streets of the city are on their phones.

Kevin Hart voices Snowball, a former magician's rabbit who was discarded when his owner abandoned the top hat. He lurks in the sewers along with alligators, turtles, cats, dogs, snakes- you name it, and the plot to kill humans for revenge. But Snowball's character is an old joke, where a tiny, loud-mouth, and ironically named individual is the leader of a deadly gang.

He is out to "get" Duke and Max, so there are three groups the film follows, and the idea and execution of an animal underground is pretty good. It is when the movie focuses on our leads that it bogs itself down. They two have little growth, no honest reason to dislike each other and it is obvious they will befriend each other by the time the credits roll. Oh, sorry, spoiler alert.

For example: at one point, they duo visit Duke's quondam owner, only to discover that he has past away. Heartbreaking, isn't it? Unfortunately, there is zero grace with how the situation is handled, and the entire sequence of visiting the old owner is just suddenly mentioned, then they find the owner has died, and then it is forgotten. It is like the filmmakers had a Pixar writer for one day, and shoehorned their idea into the plot last minute.

The trees are pleasantly orange and brown, implying it is fall but serving no point to the plot. Why is it fall then? Coming out in the dead of summer, maybe the leaf-color artist was not memoed the film's release date. The film is never boring, for long at least, but I still should not have noticed, then wondered about, the leaf color.