Plane Review

I hate planes. I hate the airport, the takeoff, all of it, and whenever a movie depicts a crash or something, my body naturally tenses up. I ache knowing that there is a possibility that it could happen to me, which is about the only thing that could make flying more unpleasant. Gerard Butler's latest geezer-pleaser, the most plainly titled "Plane," contains not one but two emergency landings that I couldn't wait for the credits to roll so that I could go outside, take a deep breath and remind myself that I am not sitting in uncomfortable seats with my tray-table in the upright position.

Not to knock "Plane," which is in the grand tradition of xenophobic hostage action films like Chuck Norris' "The Delta Force," though this one is far less brazen with its tastelessness. I don't let that bother me however, as if Hollywood can depict US cities like New York as warzones filled with crime, then why not other counties? If we can make fun of ourselves, everywhere else is fair game. I'm not sure if that's the right attitude to have, but hey, that's showbusiness.

Anyway, Gerard plays Brodie Torrance, a pilot who, after an altercation with a seemingly drunk passenger, is now working at lesser airlines. It's New Years eve and he's hoping to fly to celebrate with his daughter once he finishes his trip. The flight is far from packed, which saves us the audience from having to remember so many faces, but it also allows the plot to have criminal Louis Gaspare (Mike Colter) along for the ride. None of that matters though, because they fly right into a storm and get struck by lighting, forcing them to land in Jolo. Now do I know if that region is really run by terrorists and generally "bad" people? Absolutely not, but if you bought a ticket for this kind of picture, then those are not the kind of questions you ask.

Brodie teams up with Louis to search the area to find help, leaving the passengers under the care of co-pilot Sam (Yoson An) and flight-attended Bonnie (Daniella Pineda). Violence ensues, people are captured, then escape, you know the drill. There is little variation done here with the formula but it executes its familiar narrative well, basing the mayhem in realism. Brodie isn't revealed to be some ex-military superhero, so anytime he engages with the enemy, he's left shaken at the few dead bodies he piles; even Louis, who is ex-military or something to that effect, isn't leaping from exploding buildings while tossing grenades behind him. It's all good stuff, and by grounding the action to more practical levels, we believe it.

We also get many scenes of the airline's headquarters as they navigate the politics of the accident, as Scarsdale (Tony Goldwyn) explains to Hampton (Paul Ben-Victor), CEO or president or whatever of the airline, when to make a press release and what to say in it. He also sends in an elite-team of mercenaries for a would-be rescue, but woah hold on there, that's approaching spoiler territory. This is where some of the more compelling material lies, alluding to a better script that's actually interested in the fallout that would happen in this situation, but all it actually amounts to are shots of a boardrooms full of panicked executives.

But that's OK; I'm fine with what ultimately is just a dumb action movie, because it is well shot, acted and paced.

Sick Review

I love a film that pulls a fast one on me, it is the sign of not only good filmmaking but more specifically good directing, good pacing and good acting, and Peacock's "Sick" is exactly that. It's a taut thriller, part slasher, part home-invasion, with some timely COVID pandemic flair who's climatic twist is equal parts clever and in bad-taste.

As the film opens, we see a young man struggling to find basic necessities at the local store, while getting stalking texts from a stranger. He's quickly killed, sorry if that's a spoiler, but I'm calling this scene out because it shows just how talented director John Hyams is at building suspense in a setting we're not familiar with and a character we know nothing of. It doesn't rely on the old trick of "ominous music" then scare, instead working over silence with close-ups and long-shots. The rest of the picture is no different and you sit there on your couch wishing his and everyone else's talents were involved in something not so tawdry.

Gideon Adlon plays Parker, a college student who heads out to her family's cabin in April 2020 with her friend Miri (Bethlehem Million) for quarantine. Parker's less serious about the whole coronavirus thing than Miri, having to be reminded to wear a mask, etc., but they nevertheless lounge by the lake and talk about boys. Being that I am not in school nor a girl, I can only imagine that this is what young women do, but I digress.

Nightfall hits and someone's at the house, hooded and driving a big pickup. Turns out it's Parker's non-exclusive boyfriend who's unhappy about a social media post where she's kissing another guy. He wants love but she just wants fun, or so I'm guessing, but it provides you with more backstory than your typical 80's slasher: no one here is just the generic "jock" or "nerd." They might not be fully-realized, but they're not caricatures either.

To go on further about the narrative would be a disservice, because all you need in a production like this is the plot to go along for the ride, but there is something slimy here. It's the use of the pandemic that really made me feel icky, as if it's too soon to be making light of a subject that is still killing people in the real world. It's not smart enough to be making a social statement, so it feels cheap and exploitative. 

I kept reminding myself that this is not only "just" a movie, but a horror movie. And not just any horror movie, but a slasher/home-invasion one. I should be able to make peace with its flagrant vulgarity, but my moral compass simply won't let me.

Emancipation Review

There is a lot of buzz about "Emancipation," most negative and almost all about lead Will Smith. Sure yeah, he's gotten himself into a bit of a controversy, but so has probably every other actor. What I'm getting at is, yeah, I know what he did, and no review of his subsequent project after the drama can escape it.

But as for the actual movie, it shows many powerful scenes in bloody detail about the horrors of slavery and racism during the Civil War, but it spoon-feeds these emotions timidly. Director Antione Fuqua and writer Bill Collage feel the need to show us again and again how the oppression won't break the enslaved, robbing us the audience of the rawness that this story should have. Smith's character, Peter, preaches about god to anyone who will listen, and his belief is shown to keep him alive and willing. I disagree- his belief that he is being done wrong and his will to survive should have been the reason, but alas, I am no filmmaker. An alleged god has nothing to do with racism even if the South would like to think otherwise. They were wrong, it is as simple as that.

Early on Peter is sold off, ripped from his wife (Charmaine Bingwa) and children, and forced to build railroads to transport cannons for the Confederate army. The camera lingers images of death and badness, and in these scenes we get are about as honest a look into the dark side of America as possible considering this is a commercial movie. There is a huge amount of gloss splashed atop a dirty camp, with incredible cinematography by Robert Richardson, but at the end of the day, this is still a dirty camp, one where there is probably more blood than water in that muddy Louisiana swamp.

In general this is a splendid looking film, with a desaturated, near black and white color scheme that I suppose represents how slavery wants quote black and white. Shame the film doesn't ever explore that.

Soon he escapes, and every other slave follows, scattered in all different directions. A few follow him but they soon separate so that they're more difficult to track. Their goal? Baton Rouge to join Lincoln's army, where they'd be freed men. But Fassel, a tracker played by Ben Foster, heads out into the deadly marshland to bring Peter back, or at least his disembodied head.

Foster plays the role with a casual disinterest, like a man who'd probably prefer a pipe of tobacco and nice glass of sweet tea to a life of policing racism. There's minimal development to his character but he plays a racist well, which is probably not something he really wants to hear.

But Peter's escape is hardly the end of "Emancipation," something the trailers give away: he does make it to the Union Army and joins them. The last thirty or so minutes are spent showing another form of brutality: the actual Civil War. I'm no historian and cannot claim any moment of the battle scene is accurate, or really anything else during its runtime, but they're about as riveting as any war movie I've seen.

And despite the two-star score, I recommend "Emancipation" on the importance of its subject and not by its execution. We shouldn't forget the stupid things we do as a country but we shouldn't glamorize them either, but I can't shake the feeling that all the money involved here couldn't be better spent on something other than a simplified action movie.

A Christmas Story Christmas Review

The original 1983 "A Christmas Story" is a "classic" because of ubiquitousness and not quality- not to knock the film, but as someone who's never seen it in full, I still know "what" happens, all the famous scenes, that I don't feel the need to actually, you know, watch it. It has played consecutively on cable since I was a kid during the holiday, whether that dates me or the film, I'm not sure.

Look at me, getting off topic, or am I? See, "A Christmas Story Christmas," the belated sequel, has what the original had and what Seinfeld perfected: it's about nothing. Oh sure it has a plot, but the driving force is the season; there's no dramatic heft to any of the scenes, or at least the ones I've seen. It's just "about" Christmas, and with phony crap like "Falling for Christmas," or the overstuffed "The Christmas Chronicles 2," the easy-to-digest familiarity that "A Christmas Story Christmas" continues is a real treat.

Peter Billingsley returns as Ralphie, now a husband and father, who returns to his childhood home after his father passes. A would-be writer, there's a running story about him trying to get his book published before the year is over, or else he goes "back to work." This puts financial pressure on Ralphie and his wife Sandy (Erinn Hayes) to deliver the perfect Christmas on a budget, a far cry from the elaborate mansions, ranches and resorts the folks of Hallmark and Lifetime (and Netflix) feel define the spirit of the season.

He also has to write his dad's obituary, adding a touch of drama but really serving for a plot twist even an elf could spot coming a mile away. It's the closest thing this film has to a narrative, with short vignettes about shopping, snow, bullies, and a heaping serving of nostalgia from returning actors like Scott Schwartz, R.D. Robb, and Zack Ward. 

And I'm sure fans found them cute, but as a non-fan, they're just a distraction, probably the weakest part of the experience. They show up, wink at the camera, reference the original, and collect a paycheck. I mean they look like they're having fun, sure, but it feels like watching a band reunion who you never really liked in the first place.

So I'm giving this three stars because what? Did I like it? It's charming, I'll give you that, with a cozy atmosphere and look; freeze-frames could pass as Christmas cards from decades ago. But that doesn't explain my rating, especially when you consider its HBO Max debut and how similar "8-Bit Christmas" from last year it is. No, what "A Christmas Story Christmas" lacks in purpose it makes up for with having its big heart in the right place. It's the kind of movie you could see yourself falling asleep to after a few too many eggnogs, a compliment as backhanded as it is earnest. 

Falling for Christmas Review

I have never been skiing, I know what a way to open a review. But I don't get it- you "woosh" down a hill, in the freezing elements and for what? Is it a race or just for fun? How is it any different from just running in a straight line any other day, it makes just as much sense to me. So when it comes to ski lodges, there's no appeal, aside from getting a cozy warm feeling stereotypical of a picture print by Currier and Ives, but now I'm breaking into song and if I keep going I'll never forgive myself.

If I'm getting off-topic it is because I don't what to be here, writing about Netflix's "Falling for Christmas" starring Lindsay Lohan. It's about a ski lodge, one on the brink of bankruptcy, and I mean, it's not like it's a children's hospital or anything. They don't look to have many employees, so if they go under, how many people really are impacted? I'm sorry if I sound like Scrooge, I didn't want to watch it in the first place, but hey, too late now, and I must pay the price lest I get put on Santa's naughty list.

There's a certain novelty to seeing Lohan back in a lead role, but man, what a pathetic comeback vehicle. A low-budget romantic Christmas comedy? Who does she think she is, Candace Cameron Bure? She's probably the "better" actress in any real respect, though what the hell has happened to film criticism if this is what discussions have fallen to?

The plot is exactly what the trailer promised, as if its law of the motion picture association of hasbeen holiday yarns: Sierra (Lindsay Lohan), a spoiled heiress of a fancy ski resort gets amnesia after, ahem, falling down a mountain as her influencer boyfriend Tad (George Young) proposes. And wouldn't you know it, down-on-his-luck Jake (Chord Overstreet), owner of a significantly less fancy ski saloon, happens upon her while he takes some guests on a sleighride. Oh, and his horses name is Balthazar, and is probably the second best actor here next to, oh whatever.

Jake has a backstory to boot, involving a wife who died, leaving him to raise their daughter and run the business all by himself, or well, her mother Alejandra, played by Alejandra Carlisle; it is never a good sign when a character and performer share the same name.

If all this sounds familiar, that's because it is, and it is a shame to see the once-promising Lohan reduced to such a petty production. She's as effervescent and appealing as ever, but that alone cannot save "Falling for Christmas." Really, the most impressive thing here is Balthazar. It doesn't have much to do, but it was well behaved and looked clean.

Weird: The Al Yankovic Story Review

Be it movies, TV or music, if you don't like something that's on, you can always change the channel. But movies are an investment unlike music, where as three minutes of your time is far easier to afford to something new. Perhaps that's why Weird Al works so well parodying music, and not movies.

Well I suppose he did have his own show decades ago, but that is not what he's famous for.

"Weird: The Al Yankovic Story," coming to us free by The Roku Channel, is not the legit biopic its title or marketing suggests, instead being a parody of the genre. It's a good idea, proven to work from the the popular "Funny or Die" skit it's based on, but just because it works in a short lasting a few minutes doesn't mean it'll sustain a feature-length production.

The story chronicles the almost entirely fictional story of the rise and fall of Mr. Yankovic, with torrid sex, drugs, alcohol, and murder all played for laughs. But I never laughed, hell I barely cracked a smile most of the time; in fact the best moments here were when Daniel Radcliffe, playing Weird Al, performs his most famous songs. But I'm not going to laugh at a song that I've heard dozens of times that's decades old. It's like a "greatest hits" record spliced into an unrelated movie.

Parody movies are a tricky business because they're comedies, and comedy is hard. For every terrific "The Naked Gun" and "Austin Powers" we have duds like "Spy Hard" and, yes, even Al's own "UHF" from the 80's. There's a special magic that only the best parody films possess, but I would have been happy with an "OK" one. We have here a parody that isn't funny, and in the world of cinema, few things are more uncomfortable to sit through than an unfunny comedy.

I can't fault the cast, with Radcliff giving a dedicated performance, but I can fault director Eric Appel and Al himself, the two of which wrote the script. Moments linger along with nothing happening, scenes that make sense in serious films where we're invested in the characters and whatever they're thinking. Here, we're left thinking "where's the punchline?"

But there's one reason why "Weird: The Al Yankovic Story" fails as hard as it does: the dialogue just isn't sharp. Clever wordplay and puns Al injects into his songs are nowhere to be found. I say "found" and not "heard," because the musician often puts so many sight gags in his music videos that they become almost as fun to watch as they are to listen to. This is better not watched or listened to.

We get ridiculous situations like Madonna (Evan Rachel Wood) getting kidnapped by Pablo Escobar (Arturo Castro) so that Al will come to his birthday party. Sure, sounds silly enough, as does the sudden gunplay where henchmen are disposed ala John Wick. But so what? A ludicrous circumstance isn't inherently humorous, you need to play it straight, you need to push it over the edge of just being a scene in a movie with actors playing characters. A glib comment, unexpected slapstick, anything!

I've been a fan of Weird Al since I first heard his music, so I take no pleasure in reporting I experienced no pleasure watching this. 108 minutes is far too long for what is essentially a single joke, so once you hear the joke, all that's left are variations on the same thing. "Weird: The Al Yankovic Story" is a hard film to review because it's a hard film to enjoy or even understand. The best way to describe it is "weird," which if that's what they were going for, good for them. Its heart is in the right place, but that doesn't mean it wasn't an enormous waste of talent and resources.

Blade of the 47 Ronin Review

"Blade of the 47 Ronin" is a relic of a simpler cinema era, where cheapo sequels were destined to video rental or perhaps a TV premier. I mean sure, you can buy this on DVD if you are one of few without a Netflix account, but by debuting day-and-date on the streamer, the process is the same. This is a cheapo sequel destined to be viewed outside the big screen. So what? Does that mean I can't recommend this? Why not? Just because it's a low-budget distraction at best? Sometimes all I need is to be distracted.

Please don't read too far into that- this is most certainly not a "great" film in the sense of the performances, scale or plot, but the action and pacing are pretty spot-on, at least for the minimal dollars at the filmmakers disposal.

For those who completely forgot about the giant box office bomb that was 2013's "47 Ronin," staring Keanu Reeves, this is a sequel to that one, and unsurprisingly, Mr. Reeves is not in this one. But that didn't stop costar of the actor's third John Wick flick, Mark Dacascos, from nabbing a supporting role here, playing Shinshiro, but look at me getting ahead of myself.

Shinshiro is one of several Samurai lords who fear that the evil witch Yurei (Dan Southworth) has killed off all remaining heirs to the original 47 Ronin, and is looking for the two halves of a sword that, if acquired before the next blood moon, would make him unstoppable. The samurai immediately dissolve into fighting each other verbally for the best way forward. My favorite suggestion is guns, brought up by Nikko (Chikako Fukayama), not because I'm a fan of the weapon in real-life but because when he's later in a brawl, he breaks out a firearm and blasts the opposing baddie who wields just a sword. I dunno, he's convinced me.

Anyway, it turns out that there is actually a remaining bloodline to the 47 Ronin, and the good guys, lead by Shinshiro, his niece Onami (Teresa Ting) and Reo (Mike Moh), believe they've found her. Luna, played by Anna Akana, a New Yorker who just happens to be in Budapest selling a family heirloom. (One of the two halves of the infamous sword perhaps?) She understandably has a hard time believing that she is the person they're looking for, but enough convincing, they have just five days before the next blood moon, and she needs to be trained by the way of the samurai. Honestly, I don't think you could teach someone to ride a bike in five days.

So Luna trains under Onami, while her uncle tries to locate his fellow samurai who have gone missing because plot. During these exercises, Luna asks why Onami isn't considered a samurai, which she explains is because she's a woman. Woman, you see, can be onna-musha, but not samurai. I bring this up not because it's ever followed up on, but because she has a good point. Breaking the gender-barriers of the ancient fighters would make for an interesting narrative, so why bother with any of this hokum nonsense!?

Anyway, silly as it may be, nothing I've described so far has been bad, but oh yes, something here stinks. In fact, it stinks so bad it actually sucks, and that is the acting. It's beyond awful. It does not do any favors to the stereotype and stigma martial arts films have in America. English is a hard language, I get that, so why bother with English at all? Aren't they in Budapest? My internet research tells me their official language is Hungarian, so everyone speaking English doesn't make logical sense!

None of that matters though, because when it comes to delivering the goods, "Blade of the 47 Ronin" does so with goods to spare. The fight sequences are frequent, bloody and brutal, with bodies flown around like dolls in hotels, trains and secret underground hideouts. The violence doesn't have a point, but it's satisfying, B-movie material.

Eventually, Yurei kidnaps Luna, and just when all hope is lost, Reo announces he can find her by tracking her tablet. How convenient! But just when our heroes pinpoint her location, he says "let's split up," and everyone agrees. Why would they split up, you have a tracker on her! But it is inconsistencies like this that add to its charm.

Before I go (and you go), it'd like to bring up how the editor here is Chuck Norris. And according to IMBD, it is not the same man who once stopped a chainsaw with his bare hands. What a shame.