Cruise Control

 Predictability comes off loud and clear, mostly loud in this Mission Incomprehensible

by Morgan P Salvo

Okay, I have to admit that on my drive to the theatre I was semi-excited about the IMAX experience, looking forward to hyper-realistic stunts and fist fights. Once in the theater I was told by a blank screen to prepare for “the full IMAX immersion”. I sat back ready for the eye candy. Well, it’s clear enough and plenty loud (in fact one guy in the audience yelled to turn it down a notch), but once the crystalline dust settled and my eyes focused, I seriously didn’t notice any difference from a regular movie theatre experience. Then glaring me square in the face was this entity called Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol to deal with.
This Mission Impossible follows the TV show’s prototype with the familiar theme music blaring through the credits, morphing into one big formulaic end-of-the-world chase-fest that really goes nowhere fast even though the people in this thing move pretty quickly. Cruise is back as Ethan Hunt going for the glory and gusto in an international pursuit to stop nuclear warheads from detonating. Yep it’s a race against time.
From the get-go the odds are against the MI team as malfunctions keep them at death’s door, but this is clearly not Mission “We-can’t-do-it”. The simplistic plot has no major twists or turns but some major holes. The flick tries to make up for it with some decent tension and intercutting of scenes but mainly we’ve seen all before. It’s all about the stunts, slug-fests, explosions and car chases.
Let’s talk directors for a minute. First there was Brian DePalma and the “big train scene”, then John Woo showing off his unique camera work. Up next was J. J. Abrams (Lost) going for a lot of zest. New director Brad Bird honed his chops as an animator (The Incredibles, Iron Giant) and shows some decent skills here as the action segues into even more action amidst exotic locales.
As far as evil villain history goes, following in the dastardly footsteps of Jon Voight, Dougray Scott, and Phillip Seymour Hoffman, newest villain Michael Nyqvist has about three lines as we all get to recognize him from the original Girl with the Dragon Tattoo series. Even though they’re tough guy spies, it’s fairly ludicrous seeing Cruise and Nyqvist punch each other senseless.
Some tongue and cheek humor are lost here, however, with Cruise at the helm as actor and producer. He commands too much seriousness from all involved and not enough levity. The daredevils aren’t portrayed as adrenaline junkies, as much as pure adrenaline itself.
The acting ranges from adequate to horrible to a terrible waste of time and talent. Jeremy Renner, whose character I thought was going to have nice twist, instead becomes the inevitable troubled sidekick. Simon Pegg (Shaun Of the Dead/Paul) offers tepid non-comic relief and Paula Patton (Precious/Mirrors) is the sexpot, plain and simple. Cruise has aged into this role and is way too stern for his own good. The shot of him grimacing and running his gazillion dollar ass off toward the camera with a Dubai dust storm descending upon him is hilarious. He means it. We know it’s fake. Go figure. I can’t believe I’m saying this but it would’ve helped Tom’s overall appeal if he had pulled from his Cruise-lite Knight and Day persona.
Proving way too corny, when someone says “what we are headed for is nuclear war” the never ending soundtrack actually hits a low piano note for extra drama. Sure there are some astonishing special effects, the Dubai Tower window-crawling human-fly stunts and the Buster Keaton-like final fight scene with cars and elevators are cool, and I’ll give an extra star to any movie with the line, “abort the warhead”, but the end gets all touchy-feely super cute and made me want to vomit. Yet I’m sure a lot of people will like this neatly sewn up ending leading into the next sequel possibly entitled Mission Deplorable: Siege of Stupidity.
It’s hard to fathom that it’s been 15 years since DePalma had Cruise riding that train in a tunnel to ignite this franchise that prompted Cruise to run with it. I heard MI4 was more team less Cruise but that’s not the case. That would truly have been an impossible mission--- keeping Cruise out of the spotlight.


Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol
Starring Tom Cruise, Paula Patton, Jeremy Renner, Simon Pegg, Michael Nyqvist
Directed by Brad Bird
Rated PG-13
2 stars

Adventures in Babysitting

The Sitter is wrong on every level and that’s not a good thing
by Morgan P Salvo

Surprisingly this lame comedy is aptly titled as The Sitter sits on its hands.
Director David Gordon Green has come a long way since Undertow and Snow Angels. I guess the comedy bug hit him with Pineapple Express. Working successfully with Danny McBride on Eastbound and Down is the vilest, most offensive, hedonistic and yet funniest show I may have ever have seen, Green is back in the comedy saddle again this time with Jonah Hill in The Sitter. Green has made the worst movie of his once illustrious career and possibly the worst movie of 2011. I really don’t know why. The premise is good, the ideas seem funny but instead of a crude comedy we get a soul searching, “everything’s fine if you just accept yourself” tired old fable, like a Disney pic with swearing.
Beginning with a raunchy little scene and an in-joke nod to James Franco’s soap opera playing in the background, it seems we’re going to see a continuation of Hill’s Superbad character shooting off x-rated vulgar one-liners and proving he’s matured about as much as he’s lost weight (this movie was shot before Hill trimmed down.) But as quickly as the crudeness appears, it’s taken away. Hill’s comic timing and command of banter is awesome but is lost in this mishmash of moral ideology and channeling of various 80’s flicks. Basically this movie is Adventures in Babysitting with more cursing. We’ve seen this all before: disgruntled babysitter has something better to do (involving sex and drugs) so the sitter takes the kids on one raucous escapade after another, racing to complete tasks before the deadline of the parents’ return. We spend the entire movie waiting for Sitter to go wild but it never does, instead segueing into one lecture after another on “how to be yourself” amidst bad stereotypes and foul-mouthed dialogue. Sitter is reminiscent of Date Night which was actually funnier because at least it felt like a comedy, and that’s just not right…at all. And I saw that on an airplane for God’s sake.

All this should work in the hands of Green but the ball drops straight to hell when we realize that the babysitter is going to continue to heroically dish out anecdotes of wisdom to kids with issues. AND Sitter is responsible for some of the most inane dialogue in modern history. Chalk it up to debut of screenwriters Brian Gatewood’s and Alessandra Tanaka’s lackluster script that essentially cancels out the talent of everyone involved And what’s the deal with filmmakers once again wasting the talent that is Sam Rockwell? (Yeah I’m talking to you Iron Man 2 and Cowboys and Aliens). Sam does his best as the conflicted drug dealer but he’s up against a barricade of bad ideas.
Usually a movie that makes this many mistakes redeems itself with at least a couple of decent scenes. Such is not the case in Sitter. Sold to us by the previews as the raunchiest holiday flick ever, the true vulgarity of this lazy, embarrassing and boring movie is expecting anyone to like it.

The Sitter
Starring Jonah Hill, Sam Rockwell, Ari Graynor, Max Records
Directed by
David Gordon Green
Rated R
½ star

Capturing Dreams and Saving Cinema

Martin Scorsese makes a powerful case for film preservation through fantasy
by Morgan P Salvo




I have to cut Martin Scorsese some slack for his foray into family entertainment. I saw him on The Daily Show the other night and he confessed a couple of reasons as to why he made Hugo. One was because his wife hounded him to make “something that everyone can see” and then his 12 year old daughter chimed in with, “and in 3D”! Secondly he wanted to make a love letter to the birth of filmmaking honoring Georges Melies (1902’s A Trip to the Moon), the inventor of fantasy and science fiction in cinema. So while we get a kids’ fantasy ripe with mystery we also get a cinematic history lesson. It’s a tricky balancing act and Scorsese handles it with quite a lot of panache, delivering a magical imaginative eye-popping mini-masterpiece where the 3D is not a gimmick but wondrous enhancement.
I saw early avant garde pioneer Georges Melies’ infamous Trip to the Moon when I was in film school (yes it’s true). Ingenious and way ahead of his time, Melies took experimental film to the limits. It’s no wonder that Scorsese is fascinated with the brilliant reclusive filmmaker and who better then Scorsese to use wild camera shots and mesmerizing 3D about the man who invented special effects. Some of the most fascinating scenes are the recreations of Melies’ short films.
The simple tale takes place in a train station circa 1930s Paris where Hugo (Asa Butterfield) lives in the walls, hides out and winds the clocks. This is a super bohemian setting with a tipping of the hat to Parisian artists big and small. Orphaned and alone Hugo's more important task is to protect a broken automaton (a robotic life-size toy) and notebook left to him by his late father. Begrudgingly befriended by a curmudgeonly toy merchant (Ben Kingsley), Hugo then accompanies the toy maker’s goddaughter (Chloe Grace Moretz) as they embark on a quest to solve the mystery of the automaton and find a place he can call home. The constant the pursuit of the orphans for vagrancy by the station master adds the sense of adventure and suspense.
Spattered with an array of cameos, some culled from the Scorsese alumni, Hugo’s cast includes Ray Whinstone, Emily Mortimer, Jude Law, Christopher Lee, Michael Stuhlbarg and Helen McCrory. With enchanting, stand-out performances from Butterfield, (Son of Rambow/ The Boy in the Striped Pajamas) and Moretz, (Kick-ass!/Let Me In) it’s actually Sasha Baron Cohen (Borat/Bruno) as the dastardly station master who shines the most, continuing to impress with subdued comic timing. The biggest and most perplexing question I had though was why do people in France speak with English accents?
Beginning with a sweeping opening aerial shot that plunges you into the wildly choreographed bustle of the train station, Hugo is artistic beyond reproach. Within the spinning gears, springs, shutters, wheels, tracks and clock pendulums, the 3D really works here. Dazzlingly combining the early days of cinema with the very latest big-screen technology, the visuals are mesmerizing right down to close-ups of the station master’s Doberman. What Scorsese creates is a phenomenal blend of fantasy and mystery that will appeal to adults as well as children. Don’t think Scorsese’s mission to save old film from either being ruined by time or destroyed by misuse goes by unnoticed. Not only is Hugo an homage to a simpler cinematic time, it’s also a lesson in restoring faith in film not to mention the focus on film restoration itself.
A little overly long and meandering, Hugo is reminiscent of Scorsese’s Kundun endeavor. I am reminded of a Sopranos episode where Christopher yells to Scorsese at a movie premiere “Yeah Kundun… loved it!” Well, not too many people felt the same, but I have a feeling plenty of people will be exclaiming their love for Hugo.
With Hugo Scorsese transports audiences to a place beyond belief and exposes his artistic gentler side. Don’t get me wrong, I have a profound appreciation for Marty’s blood spurting shotgun blasts and Bic pen stabbings, but in this passionate cinematic love letter it’s never been clearer how much he loves movies. Now after this melancholy little ditty and his family satiated hopefully Scorsese can go back to making something mob oriented that will amp up the body count.

Hugo
Starring Ben Kingsley, Sacha Baron Cohen, Asa Butterfield, Chloë Grace Moretz,
Directed by Martin Scorsese
Rated PG
3 ½ stars

Deck the halls with Marijuana

It’s a very stoner Christmas—what’d you expect?

By Morgan P Salvo


On Prancer… on Donner…on Harold…on Kumar??…ok With Halloween just over, Thanksgiving looming in the wind, Bam! we get our first X-mas flick. I have two words for you: Prepare for A Very Harold and Kumar’s 3D Christmas. I think its genius for the guys that bring stoner humor, lame sex jokes, bodily functions and bad taste to the screen to beat everyone to the punch and its in 3D no less. That said this movie is amazingly stupid.
I actually liked H&K goes to White Castle much to my surprise and I freakin’ walked out of H&K escape from Guantanamo it was that moronic. H&K X-MAS isn’t that insulting it’s just in a world of its own suffering from an extreme case of pathetic. Ripe with stereotypes This H&K boasts an extensive list of bad and unfinished ideas. Many setups fall as flat as a squished THC laden brownie while others just glide along in wimpiness and only a few explode with originality. Mainly there is a visible collision course with unsurprising mediocrity. It’s a shame the movie relies way too much on that lame super-predictable (I can’t-stand-more-than-anything) Airplane kind of humor. I have a hard time relating to really simple comedies where I can see the punch lines coming a mile away. Some Claymation allows some wild stoner ideas and blood-letting and other non claymation scenes offered some ultra decent gore.I have to give props to special effects makeup artist Gregory Nicotero whose gory handiwork I recognized. And it’s not everyday you get to see Santa shot in the head.
Obviously Kal Penn is done working with Obama. The most watchable aspects of this flick are Penn and John Cho’s deadpan performances. They stay uncannily believable while the movie stretches the imagination like a rubber band around the equator. This flick milks the stupid out of every scene but the kick-ass 3D actually works in its favor. There were two times I actually laughed out loud. I enjoyed the in-yer-face 3D Marijuana smoke but that antic was dropped too quickly. Even though I don’t smoke pot some of the stuff was clever while other times it was just like "just who do they think they’re kidding?" Although even when I smoked pot I didn’t like stoner humor it was just insulting. There’s stuff in here that I think if you told me about I’d just shrug and shun.

The hit and miss material comes at you like a smorgasbord allowing you to decide which bit is funny (or not) but like a cafeteria line it keeps moving. There’s a rip on occupy Wall Street, a ton of dick jokes and Neil Patrick Harris, referred to with super star status as NPH, is (according to this scenario) only pretending to be gay so he can secretly score chicks and remain a huge babe magnet. There’s an egg chucking 3D massacre a waffle-bot toy that allows a lot of R2 D2 and Terminator jokes, Evil Russian mob boss/dad Elias Koteas, Danny “Machete” Trejo as disgruntled father-in-law, terrible use of Thomas Lennon(Reno 911’s Lt. Dangle) an even worse casting choice of Amir Blumenfeld as the nerd with glasses (I seriously can’t tell if the character or the actor is more annoying) Penn’s in-joke White house job is poked fun at,
But there’s one antic that is so over-the-edge wrong that I don’t know anyone who won’t take issue with it: the scenes of a toddler getting high on weed, cocaine and ecstasy.
Keeping in the Christmas spirit H&K’S 3D X-mas wraps the movie in a weed soaked ribbon and bow, too touching for its own good. It’s like a hallmark card stoner morality code, which defeats the purpose of the entire dementedly satirical gross-out jamboree we’ve been invited to. There’s actually a reindeer named Vixen?? Jeez!
On Blitzen…on Trapper…

A Very Harold and Kumar 3d Christmas
Starring Kal Penn, John Cho, Neil Patrick Harris, Thomas Lennon, Danny Trejo
Directed by Todd Strauss-Schulson
Rated R
2 stars

Gonzo Takes it Easy

The Truth Rebel gets a sad origin

 

By Morgan P Salvo

I am going to be Captain Obvious here and say that it really ticks me off when something that is supposed to be good isn’t. Figuring in Johnny Depp’s history of constant chameleon acting and his dear late friend Hunter S Thompson’s Gatling gun writing style I’m sure I can speak for us all when I say I think we had a hit here on our hands. Sadly this is not the case. With The Rum Diary we get a direction that borders on cute and mediocre. The whole thing was meek and needed more punch falling flat way more than succeeding in telling a hugely interesting and compelling story. The one-dimensional plot involves journalist Paul Kemp (Depp), who in 1960 moves from New York to work a freelance job for a local newspaper in San Juan, Puerto Rico. Diary follows the sleazy planning and development scam that bleeds into the running of a newspaper, but is mainly a very loose collection of drug and alcohol fueled mishaps. Kemp struggles between corrupt business dealing, romance, and drinking with the expatriates who live there. Thompson himself had unsuccessfully applied to work at the larger English-language daily while in Puerto Rico, befriending many of the writers there, providing the context for Rum Diary's fictional storyline. And it wasn’t until he and Depp came upon the novel together that it became published it in 1998. It is Thompson's second novel he had given up the novel because it had originally "bounced about seven times - I got the standard list of rejection letters -got into the politics of the 60s and 70s, he revisited the book because "it's got a romantic notion...that and money 'ye gods, this is me, this is the world I lived in'…this is only simplified more in this celluloid version.
I read the book a few years back and remember it was pretty engaging with rebellious insight and tons of humor. This unbelievably meek rendition of Rum diary reminded me of the Malcolm Lowry film version of Under the Volcano although helmed by vet John Huston and a great performance by Albert Finney it still could not contain the literary power of the book. Diary seems to be afraid to dig deep and get to the meat of the story just glazing the surface. This flick had all the makings to be another Barfly expanding on Hunter’s manic lifestyle but the route we get to travel takes us to cuteness rather than full tilt debauchery. Maybe that’s the problem; it’s hard to gage the lens of a gut felt writer on film. Best line saved from book “a liberal is a communist with a college degree and Negro thoughts.”
There’s Thompson lingo peppered throughout but the meandering of each scene and the weirdly paced bad timing of the uncomfortable spacing make the lines seem oddly out of place like someone just forced a Hunter line down someone’s gullet and they regurgitate it back up with no idea of what they are saying. Diary is just snippets of easily executed scenes without going to the limit. It lacks edginess. With many promising scenes to take us over the brink instead we just sit at the brink and say “Ok, that’s the brink let’s go back now…”

My first curiosity was “who the heck is this Bruce Robinson character? And what right does he have to infiltrate Hunter’s booze soaked genius? Turns out Writer/Director Robinson has a very eclectic pair of movies under his belt Withnail and I which totally skewers/personifies drunkenness effectively and then there’s it’s polar opposite, the weird thriller Jennifer 8 so that gave me initial hope. Sadly all that hope has been dashed aside.
On the bright side we get some excellent acting from the side characters; Veteran character Michael Rispoli whose range encompasses Sopranos and Death to Smoochy finally gets a chance to shine but when the movie keeps falling down it takes him with it. Ribisi out does himself in a tricky tightrope walk of being super brilliant and super ruined obviously enjoying hamming it up in a very wrecked manner. Jenkins hits every mark and is an all out joy to watch but is just not in it enough. Amber Heard needed to add more sex to her pot and Aaron Eckhart just gets on my nerves these days.
Johnny Depp on Letterman said that he and Thompson dug out the story and Thompson said “hey this would make a great movie” to which Depp’s response was “maybe you should publish it first.” Too bad then, that Depp’s channeling of Thompson comes off monotonous, posing and very cheeky rather than a guy with an axe to grind. Although I get the fact that this is where Thompson found his voice making it his life long goal to “fight the bastards with rage and ink” it still feels like too much of a wimpy homage to his legacy. Whereas Terry Gilliam’s Fear and Loathing went so over-the-top and was all manic energy this flick is all reined in attempting reverence by referring to stories within the novel itself
The music throughout is ill picked and a major distraction beginning with Dean Martin’s Volare to bad Muzak poppy jazz. Between the piss poor editing job and the lame ass music it’s a tossup as to which is the most annoying. As a huge Bukowski and Thompson fan and a one time devoted proponent of all things booze and drug related I can relate completely to the intake of inebriates but the acid trip here is lackluster at best. One surreal shot then cut to the actors walking along a street talking about being high. And correct me if I’m wrong but I don’t think they wore bell bottoms in 1960. Don’t bother I know I’m right.
It’s a testament to bad judgment that in showing us the origin of “Gonzo” journalism and “putting the bastards on notice” this movie chooses to play it safe. I feel its part Depp’s lackluster performance and part Robinson’s too risk-free approach. Diary is not necessarily a detour but an all out shortcut. I think if Depp talks to Hunter in the afterlife, Thompson is probably telling him right now to never make a movie about him with such mediocrity ever again. I think Hunter S. should come back from the grave and tell them all how to make this movie correctly. This movie deserves it all. Too bad it’s all facades and no substance. You’d be better served seeing any documentary on Thompson. At least there you can see the world through his warped fish-eye lens.All I know is I could have done with some more high-octane-booze-fire-spitting. At least Kemp used the words “Whore Beast”.

The Rum Diary
2 stars
Starring Johnny Depp, Amber Heard, Michael Rispoli, Richard Jenkins, Giovanni Ribisi
Written for the screen and directed by Bruce Robinson
Rated R

Silence of the Cameras

Things that go bump at the camera are running their course
By Morgan P Salvo


Have you ever watched one of those Ghost Hunter paranormal TV shows? Me neither. I’ve tried, but it just doesn’t interest me to watch a bunch of pansy-ass nerds walking around with a bunch of gizmos acting all scared and ready to piss their pants around every corner. Maybe if they actually pissed their pants we’d have something. They might have - like I said, I’ve never made it through a whole episode. I wish I could say the same about the Paranormal Activity franchise. The third installment is now crushing it at the box office and all I can say is that I miss Saw. At least the Saw franchise is an intricate series - we know it continues from the one before and perfectly sets up the next installment. This Paranormal 3 is just a repetition of the same tricks, only ever so slightly embellishing on the last hand held camera “found footage” scare-fest. But scary tricks aside, this is still a one way ticket to Dullsville.
It’s no secret that I absolutely detested the first Paranormal. I skipped the second one and even though everyone said it was way better and scarier than the first (not a tough achievement) I highly doubt it, though it did have things I find scary in it, like babies. This third installment brings all the same supremely irritating qualities because it’s basically the same movie with different people in it. Seriously why continue having more annoying characters with idiotic supernatural plights?
Once again, a family suspects a threatening, supernatural presence has invaded their home so they begin to videotape themselves around the clock in hopes of capturing proof. This takes place in 1988 and is supposed to enlighten us as to why the sisters from the previous films have demons on their tails. Oddly, the footage in this prequel looks like it was shot on digital, with none of the VHS lines that would have existed from 1988, and it blows bazooka holes into the premise of the first two movies. If the sisters had been video taped essentially their whole life you’d think that, instead of constantly being documented, they’d finally throw in the ghostly towel or be wise enough to start one of those aforementioned TV shows where they get paid to almost piss their pants.
This time around the producers reeled in co-directors Henry Joost and Ariel Schulman whose first feature was 2010's questionable social-media “real life” mystery Catfish. I have to admit that a couple of the tricks they use are kind of cool (like the oscillating fan cam) and some of the jolt scares are way better than anything the predecessors came up with.
But the big glaring fault in P3 is that, with indisputable proof for what’s been going on in the house, it still takes forever for anything to really happen and an eternity for the characters to get a clue and then of course it’s too late and time for the movie to end with a big scary bang.
It’s amazing that anyone can fall for this ultra cheap super manipulative trick of demons and “found footage” again and again. I guess it’s like riding the carnival funhouse torture dungeon ride, you want to be scared so you get to be scared…plain and simple. The franchise’s brilliance is that it’s so cheap and yet so effective. I think it has to do with our Reality TV quick fix mentality. This movie preys on our childhood fears of the unknown and only gives us one kind of scare. Here the audience gets to stare at the camera footage of a room while some furniture gets thrown around, some doors open, and somebody stands in one place for really long. Then there’s some really loud bangs and clumping noises, as we wait for something to pop out of nowhere for a jolt-scare. Add amateurish fast forwards, jump cut and shaky camera work and formula is complete.
The one thing that is I found impressive and totally mind boggling is that the first Paranormal Activity cost just $15,000—the price of a used 2008 Honda Accord (or so I’m told) and the film went on to earn nearly $108 million at the U.S. box office and $194 million worldwide. Completely undeserved in my book but that’s another story. Update as of Sunday night P3 has raked in $54 million. Hmmm… I guess I might start making them too. YET....Anyone can make these movies in their sleep

Treading on thin ice, the threadbare premise of this franchise is just about worn past transparency. But PA3 dutifully sets things up for the next installment. One doesn’t need any kind of séance to determine that it will probably arrive around next Halloween. With the intention solely to make audiences piss their pants maybe the gimmick for Paranormal 4 will be to hand out diapers in the theatre. Saw, I beg of you, please come back.


Subnormal Stupidity--oh I mean...Paranormal Activity 3
Starring Chloe Csengery, Jessica Tyler Brown, Lauren Bittner, Christopher Nicholas Smith
Directed by: Henry Joost, Ariel Schulman
Rated R

If you can’t take the gore stay out of the theatre

Prequel to a remake holds some mighty frozen ground





By Morgan P Salvo

People booed. Some walked out. One guy even cursed the screen as the credits rolled. I laughed my ass off…nothing like a shameless rip-off of an already shameless remake.
Suffice it to say this is my kind of movie.
I was so primed to hate this movie. Back when I first saw a trailer for this 2011 The Thing all I could ask myself was why? I was afraid that I’m a little too familiar with the material. As a kid I used to watch the original Howard Hawks’ 50’s classic every Halloween afternoon on TV just to sift through all the slow moving technical scientific mumbo jumbo to get the big scary “Thing” payoff at the end. And the 1982 John Carpenter version’s over-the-top gory remake is one of my favorites.

This prequel takes all its cues from the ‘82 version and fills in all the gaps in basically the same formulaic predicaments of how to deal with the unknown entity. Basically the Thing can enter and hide in a human host and from there wreak havoc so it’s always a cat and mouse game of who could possibly be the inhuman culprit. It can only be killed by death by burning so the weapon of choice is the flame thrower. Still a good combo of the first two this Thing pretty much morphs into a replica of the second. Based in Antarctica a Norwegian expedition team (who are about 50 miles from where the Carpenter version takes place) find an entity encased in ice that looks like the Donnie Darko Bunny or an evil lobster claw and the fun starts here. The combination of blood spewing, gut churning, high camp and seriousness that so defined Carpenter’s stay intact in this prequel. Even with Mary Elizabeth Winstead the chick from final destination three and Eric Christian Olsen the guy form that cheerleader movie Fired Up! Hero Joel Edgerton and even Mr. Echo from Lost shows up Ulrich Thomsen is the stern and strict ( the kind you want to see get punched) scientist wearing the same fur hat from the 50s.
During the credits the movie continues and director Matthijs van Heijningen Jr somehow puts an entire European feel to this movie.
‘82 Thing was way before CGI so the special effects that might seem low tech by today’s standards but for the time it was state of the art super gruesome weirdness. But the funniest part was how 2011 Thing’s high tech CGI effects still come off cheesy and hilarious, a lot like the goopy creatures from Stuart Gordon’s From Beyond or Brian Yuzna’s Society. We’re still talking big gooey meaty slits, all teeth and tendrils with whipping fanged tentacles. We also get some of the craziest demon alien morphing onscreen to date. There are plenty of flying alien guts and even an updated head-with-spider legs creature that had me laughing in the aisles. Maybe this version didn’t live up to the disgruntled people’s expectations but all put together the Thing is a formula that can’t go wrong. I know now that I wasted energy thinking that I wasn’t going to like this flick. Whether it’s a prequel or the other side of the ice-slope they can keep making this kind of Thing anytime they want.

The Thing
Starring Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Joel Edgerton, Eric Christian Olsen, Ulrich Thomsen
Directed by Matthijs van Heijningen Jr
Rated R
3 ½ stars

Et tu Clooney?

We’ve seen it all before but Clooney lets the actors shine
by
Morgan P Salvo

Pretty boy George Clooney gets a bad rap; from conservative attacks on his liberal politics to jabs at his good looks. Problem with that scenario is that Clooney is a really good director and couldn’t care less. Clooney is also a damn fine actor so it’s no surprise that Ides of March although driven by political force, is all about the acting. Touting a superb cast and drawing from source material Farragut North, a 2008 play by Beau Willimon, Ides tells the tale of an idealistic staffer (Ryan “I’m in every other movie” Gosling) who gets a crash course on dirty politics during his stint on the campaign trail working for a presidential candidate (Clooney). Unfortunately not much transpires that we’ve not experienced in the political movie realm. Nothing really new is revealed. There’s no surprise watching the inner workings behind political wheeling and dealing. We’re supposed to have enormous feeling for certain characters but alas as the film progresses you feel more inclined to hate just about everyone in this flick. Maybe that’s the point.
So that brings us back to the acting. Ides is all about the performances. It’s Gosling’s movie all the way but just seeing Paul Giamatti and Phillip Seymour Hoffman in the same flick is almost goose bump inducing. And the always dependable Marisa Tomei shows up and thankfully this time around doesn’t have to have sex with an ugly guy.
After being introduced to the chess game of politics, about a third of the way in I’m wondering… where is the tension? When it kicks in we get a good suspenseful feel for, say about three minutes and then everywhere you wish Ides would go just refuses to go there. Right when we think its going to go the path of Julius Caesar, Ides just kind of rides this self explanatory plane wherein everything is spelled out for you.
Clooney’s direction surprisingly underwhelms. The simplistic easygoing approach harkens back to the Hollywood of yesteryear, the problem is that style doesn’t mesh with today’s political hot topics. Sure pipe dreams are shattered and slimy shady dealings behind close doors are powerful but without the versatility or complexity of Tim Robbins’ Bob Roberts or Michael Ritchie’s The Candidate, the only motivating force is Clooney’s left wing agenda. Jabbing at the republicans’ vicious power and the democrats’ extreme wimpiness, more times than not under the guise of political intrigue Ides feels only like a vehicle to showcase Clooney’s left leaning politics.
I really liked where I thought it was going to go but in the end everything about this flick is just too obvious. Plus Clooney isn’t very pretty this time around.


Ides of March
Starring George Clooney, Ryan Gosling, Paul Giamatti, Phillip Seymour Hoffman Evan Rachel Wood, Marisa Tomei, Jeffrey Wright
Directed by George Clooney
Rated R







2 stars

Dream On….

Dream team of A-list actors and director cannot save the misguided path of Dream House
by
  Morgan P Salvo





Okay, here we go again with another installment of the haunted house genre. You know the ones with “haunting” and/or “house” in the title that I have proven are destined to suck. They don’t stand a ghost of a chance. This flick is no exception to the sucking rule but guess what? It’s not a haunted house movie, which now leads me to believe anything with just “house” in the title sucks. And yes, even that predictable TV series.
Beginning with scary angelic music Dream House introduces the typical new inhabitants in a strange and creepy house with a shady past where things creak, squeak, and go bump in the night all destined to make towering A-list film stars (Daniel Craig, Rachel Weiz, Naomi Watts) crap their pants. But all that changes midway through with a twist from the “is this all real?” Shutter Island school of twists, detouring into ridiculous hallucinations, visions, questionable sanity and yes…murder.

What I thought was going to be yet another in the big steaming pile of bad haunted house movies turns out not to be the case. Dream house is a steaming pile of a different entity. Moving at a snail’s pace with zero suspense, rife with stupidity, hack job screenwriting, and a huge dose of WTF, this flick manages to churn out a tepid psychological thriller at best. Even with two major plot twists, the movie is still so formulaic that you can almost see the solution boiling out of the science beaker. Attempting Hitchcock territory, it’s too lame and stupid to even come close. If we’re going to be treated to this kind of thriller I say thrill us and crank it up a notch. Director Jim Sheridan has jeopardized his substantial filmmaking credits (My left Foot, In America) as all he does is make a terrible “made-for-bad-TV” psychological mess look slick which makes it all the more glaringly apparent how truly awful this movie is. File this one under “too demeaning to experience” and move on. Bad writing abounds in movies these days, and screenwriter David Loucka who also wrote 1989’s Dream Team must have dreams on his mind. Well I have news for him and the filmmakers...keep dreaming. This flick could possibly induce nightmares for all the wrong reasons.
Dream house keeps you on the edge of your seat…geared to leave. A more appropriate title could be Outhouse. When a movie gets all phony with its transparent moodiness, absolutely ridiculous with its gaping plot holes, wretched dialogue and monstrously insulting acting from capable thespians, it’s downright painful.

Dream House
Starring Daniel Craig Rachel Weiz Naomi Watts
Directed by Jim Sheridan
Rated PG-13
1 star

Cultivating Familiarity

A somewhat reverent attempt at remake still plays out as sacrilege to the hilt




By
Morgan P Salvo

There would be no slow motion poetic ballet in violence without the genius director Sam Peckinpah. There would be no John Woo or Walter Hill movies. There would never have been The Wild Bunch, Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia or Straw Dogs without Peckinpah. Now we have Straw Dogs without Peckinpah. Some may say homage, I say blasphemy

Peckinpah’s ’71 Straw Dogs was his most enigmatic, open wound of a movie, throughout commentary on bigotry, racism, social and religious dysfunction, (and if you look deep enough, health care), extols the fact that the use of violence is necessary. Peckinpah’s hard drinking/hard life influenced his filmmaking style and perpetual “last man standing” theme, be it against the changing time, the protection of one’s home or the preservation of self-respect. It wasn’t just the stories; it was Sam’s vision through cinematic styling that made his films shine with a kind of wrecked dignity. He has every right to spin in his grave for this remake.

Based on a book called “Siege at Trencher’s Farm”, Straw Dogs unfolds as an iconic tale of man’s violence towards man. It originally detailed the attempt of an American professor (Dustin Hoffman) and his British wife (Susan George) to return to the tranquility of her childhood home only to be confronted by mayhem and destruction. Director Rod Lurie has moved the setting to the Deep South, with way more beautiful people, pairing off rednecks and intellectuals. Now as a screenwriter, James Marsden is amiable as the lead, compared with Hoffman’s mathematician nebbish bookworm. Kate Bosworth, although good, is no George, who emanated promiscuous flirty sexual under currents. Alexander Skarsgård (True Blood) dutifully shows off his ability to act steamy and take his shirt off.
I kept asking myself as I watched, what if this wasn’t a remake of a movie in my top five movies of all times - would I like it? The honest answer is, I can’t tell. It’s a gallant effort and creates a certain overall mood and creepiness, but it lacks the tension from the original.’71 Straw Dogs was a very powerful and controversial movie for its time. In the last forty years we have become desensitized to onscreen violence. Let’s see if people are still talking about this version 40 years from now. Time will tell. I guess in the sea of bad movies I’m accustomed to viewing, this one might’ve been a standout. The only problem is, based on my prior knowledge of and commitment to Peckinpah’s version, I’ll never know.

Straw Dogs
Starring James Marsden, Kate Bosworth, Alexander Skarsgård, James Woods
Directed by Rod Lurie
Rated R
no stars until I figure it out

Creature From The A-Hole Lagoon

 Hoping against hope, my movie going experience proves more entertaining than Creature’s proof that they really don’t make them like they used to

By Morgan P Salvo

New horror movies give me hope. I had high hopes for this flick and for a while it seemed like my prayers had been answered but to my severe dismay this movie couldn’t live up to its potential.

It’s funny that when your dreams are shattered early on something else comes along to take the place. The best part by far was my movie theatre experience. Right when Creature’s big climatic shit is about to hit the fan the film stopped, flinched a little, then burns into a big char hole on the screen shutting everything down. No, this was not Rodriguez/Tarantino’s Grindhouse techno splicing tomfoolery this was an honest to god mistake. I had to go tell the help in the theatre that the film was screwed up. But this gives me a new kind of hope--- that theaters have projectors to show films that are still shot on film and people to bolt in to fix the problem. Ten minutes emergency time and the projectionist gave me and the other guy in the theatre the thumbs up and we were off to see how wretched the ending really was going to be. Until film turns to all digital there’s’ still hope for a good time at the movies.

Creature has special treat, guilty pleasure, drive-in homage all stamped into its very existence and very well could be all of those things if it kept up with its own ideas. What it is, is a cheesy lame excruciatingly cheap movie with no soul and one ridiculous disjointed scene after anotherreature begins with initial promise: in about the first 30 seconds a chick takes off her top goes inexplicably (like all good/bad horror movies) skinny dipping in the middle of a swampy bayou and in the next minute there’s alligator chomping gore. A road trip for three couples goes awry when they take a shortcut into bayou Weird-town and the creepy legend of Lockjaw— the man gator (A cross between a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle and Pumpkin Head). Main problem here is Lockjaw is always shown in the dark and hard to see But not so for the road trip people. The couples, one just as irritating as the next, are formed from the depths of stereo-typicality. We have the practical joker, serious token black dude, beer guzzling marine, slut, stoner slut and prude-turned-slut. You can’t help but to root for each of their demise.

Taking the low-budget route Creature’s blood-letting action takes place off camera with splattery sound effects while people either get sprayed with blood or wield a bloody stump. To Make matters worse National Geographic type footage is used for shots of alligators clumsily edited into each gator scene. Skewered by too much dialogue it does however bring back my other unfulfilled wish: creepy psycho inbred hillbillies. Headed by Sid Haig (reprising his Captain Spalding antics from House of 1000 corpses) and Pruitt Vince-Taylor channeling Neville Brand in Eaten Alive, this array of backwoods numbskulls gives Creature its spunk. While I am thrilled that something this bad made it to the theaters its mind boggling. Creature really belongs on a shelf in a DVD rental store. Although it feels somewhat futile and even masochistic to derive any pleasure from something this cheesy, and I can’t recommend sitting through this one, as bad as Creature is it’s all one can hope for.
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CREATURE
Starring Mehcad Brooks, Serinda Swan, Dillon Casey, Lauren Schneider, Aaron Hill
Director: Fred M. Andrews
Rated R
2 ½ stars