My Money To Take

Wes Craven’s Newest Slash into the Horror Vein is a Snooze Fest
By Morgan P Salvo




Besides the non existent reason for My Soul to Take to be in 3-D, you have to wonder, what happened to Wes Craven? His newest jaunt into the slasher/horror/teen victim genre is a major low point for this once distinguished auteur of all things gory and smart.
Soul begins with a cool bloody intro, a lot like Craven’s underrated Shocker, with twinges of Elm Street and Scream, infusing both intellectual insight and humor. Alas, it then turns all formula. The useless 3-D has no bloody knives flying at you, just a bunch of people talking about stuff. This by the numbers slasher is about as exciting as watching paint dry.
The formula is way too familiar: after the initial slaughter scene we segue 16 years later when a bunch of stereotypical teenagers expound a bunch of campfire myth mumbo-jumbo about the Riverton Ripper and how seven of them go by the moniker of Riverton Seven because they all share the same birthday with the day the killer supposedly died, with one of them possibly harboring his murderous soul. Their number soon dwindles as some suffer gruesome deaths at the hands of a seemingly masked, dreadlocked, homeless man.
Soul represents the first writing-directing effort from Craven since his stylish "Wes Craven's New Nightmare" in 1994. Here he disappoints almost immediately and never gains any kind of momentum. Did I mention there’s WAY too much dialogue? There are references to voodoo legends about multiple souls as opposed to multiple personalities, and nonsensical stories of condors and clarions that serve no purpose. Then there’s the unexplained weirdness of “Bug” (Max Thieriot), the main suspect for the murders and his bizarre imitations of other people. Sure he acts weird enough, but his mental health history is only hinted at yet never explained. And don’t get too bent out of shape at the twist ending: it’s about as twisty as a straight edge razor.
I have a theory about directors like Craven from the 70’s who made really good horror movies—that was their shot and it’s over. They either did too many drugs or not enough, but the residual burnout seems to have affected all the greats of the genre. Any attempt at bringing back the genius and originality of their premiere vision just doesn’t cut the blood-tinged mustard. Craven's trademark satirical humor is sorely missed here as the psychosis, horror, mythology and teen victims all come off boring. The best line of this movie was “it’s not okay to be killing all the time.” In My Soul to Take’s case maybe it’s not okay to be filming all the time.

My Soul to Take
Starring Max Thieriot, John Magaro, Denzel Whitaker, Zena Grey, Emily Meade
Written/Directed by Wes Craven
Rated R
1 star

Vampires Still Need Permission

Baffling Remake Stays Reverent to the Original

 By Morgan P Salvo

What The Fuck!!? Let Me In is a remake of Let the Right One In, a movie barely two years old. This new version is scripted and helmed by Matt Reeves who was responsible for shakiest camera award with the unforgettable Cloverfield.
In Let Me In we have a barely re-written version with a lot of the same scenes and the dialogue. Swapping Sweden to a snowy New Mexico is a stretch. Having it take place in 1983 is semi-genius because we get to listen to a bunch of 1983 classic rock songs by David Bowie, Blue Oyster Cult, Greg Khin, etc. The story remains the same as a pre-pubescent blood sucker girl befriends geeky lonely boy picked on by bullies, and throughout some gruesome murders a love story blossoms. Once again the title refers to letting the right one in through the door— but also into the heart, as deadly as that may be.
Kudos must go to casting. Richard Jenkins plays the creepy “Dad”, Elias Koteas as the detective, Kodi Smit-McPhee (The Road) as the boy Owen and Chloe Moretz (Kick-ass) as the girl vampire Abby.
Saving what was cool about the original is its cold and detached look at adolescent loneliness and pain, making it the polar opposite to Twilight’s jean-busting, teen-throb, male-model blood suckers.

Missing from the original (in addition to the cool original cool 80’s euro-rock) was the alienation and isolation the entire town felt. Director Tomas Alfredson achieved this brilliantly by drawing out more characters, especially the seedy bar patrons/potential victims. Instead Reeves has Owen watching people/potential victims with a telescope giving it a Rear Window voyeuristic feel. A bad idea has Owen playing with his knife in the mirror, acting like a serial killer-rapist. The original had the character fantasizing about being able to intimidate and kill his bully attackers. Failing to astonish, the vampire attack scenes and climbing of trees or buildings look like King Kong type animation.
Watching this version messed with my head because I was so familiar with the original and its euro-creepiness. I couldn’t tell if this American version sucked or maybe it’s so rigorously reverential to its source material that it’s a highly accomplished work standing on its own. Still it baffles me why anyone would tamper with greatness. Sure the Swedish film, which ranks as one of the strangest horror entries of the last decade, deserves to find a wider base in the U.S., but why mess with solid originality? Let Me In’s only saving grace is if people see this movie first they might be intrigued to see the masterpiece.

Let Me In
Starring Kodi Smit-McPhee, Chloe Moretz, Richard Jenkins, Elias Koteas
Written/ Directed by Matt Reeves
Rated R
2 ½ stars

Bursting Bubbles

 Oliver Stone’s sequel leaves hope for human nature but none for the economy
By
Morgan P Salvo

Leave it to Oliver Stone to churn out a sequel for Wall Street after 23 years, and an eccentric sometimes compelling flick no less. This time it’s good versus evil under the umbrella of the financial crisis and mortgage debacle. You’d think the politically savvy Stone would be all over this in a JFK conspiracy way, but instead he uses the fall of the American empire to serve as a backdrop for an old-fashioned love story. Stone is far from the psychedelic onslaught of Natural Born Killers and the weird take detached look at George W. Bush in W. But as always, every shot counts. Stone’s best movies are preoccupied with the primal matters of power, honor, loyalty, and disgrace.
Wall Street 2 begins with a quick voice over analogy of bubbles bursting, likened to the origin of the human race. A quick photo montage catches us up to the modern day financial crisis. Returning as greed incarnate Gordon Gekko (Michael Douglas) is released from prison, in a scene that is both hilarious and sad.
Now ask yourself if this sounds like Oliver Stone territory or not: Gekko is estranged from his daughter, left-leaning blogger Winnie (Carey Mulligan), who wants nothing to do with him. Her fiancé is a Manhattan go-getter Jake Moore (Shia LaBeouf), a trader for Keller Zabel Investments, although his real passion is alternative energy. Tragedy strikes for Jake’s mentor Lou Zabel (Frank Langella) and Zabel's firm collapses. Arrogant Wall Street entrepreneur/manipulator, Bretton James (Josh Brolin) buys the firm for virtually nothing and recruits the promising, Jake who wants revenge. Jake then tries to assist some reconciliation between Winnie and her dad but actually ends up covertly teaming up with Gekko, who has written a best selling expose of Wall Street. Gekko manipulates all those around him, lying in wait and phony humbleness ready to strike.
Once again we see the glare of Capitalism and the energy drink guzzling, gambling-addict, trader-junkies playing with our money. But after that, Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps is mainly a slow moving melodrama. This flick depends on a smart premise, spelling out the bailouts, fallouts and money schemes that tanked our economy, but still relies on old fashioned movie making to tell a compelling intricate tale, then screws it all up with the cheesiest last five minutes and a feel-good phony-ass Hollywood ending.
Still Stone usually wrings the best performances out of his actors. Mirroring real life, the fact that Douglas has throat cancer and could be battling for his life adds a peculiar sensitivity to the subject matter. The lure of Douglas’ Gekko has its moments of pathos that lends us to believe that this time around he has real heartfelt emotions still we wonder is he on a quest for redemption…or is he maneuvering his way into the next big scam? Douglas’s command of his character and his scenes are the best to watch. Ninety-three year old Eli Wallach looks like a crazed and whistling Chinese wizard. Brolin seamlessly plays the sneering vindictive evil inside trader, screwing over everyone in his path with no remorse. Langella excels as the old-school businessman standing his ground at the precipice of disaster. There’s something inherently wrong with Charlie Sheen in his nervous unconvincing cameo. LaBeouf works in this role but has a “watch me---I’m acting” feel to the performance. Mulligan smiles when she’s happy, tears up when sad and does a good American accent, but the paring with LaBeouf is absolutely unbelievable from the get go.
Wall Street 2 has a spunky, laid back soundtrack by David Bynre and Brian Eno and also resurrects the original’s use of Talking Heads’ song “This Must be the Place (Naïve Melody)” for the ending credits.
The Schwarz Churchill firm’s bailout trials and tribulations are thinly veiled as Goldman Sachs’ housing market rip-off. But of course, Stone’s theme is not just money as the root of all evil. That would be too abstract, cold and impersonal for Oliver’s high end romantic, Hollywood-meets-Shakespeare know-how.
It looked like this movie was going to leave us with a feeling of futility and a warped financial philosophy based in truth. What I thought was the final scene and a powerful finale switched gears and took the cornball express to Hollywood happy ending-land. Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps should go back to bed.Feels like Stone cashed in his own chips and furnished his own bailout. Sound familiar?

Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps
Starring Michael Douglas, Shia LeBouf, Carrie Mulligan, Josh Brolin
Directed by Oliver Stone
Rated R
2 stars