Blair Witch in Space

Apollo 18 belies its “found footage” scenario and goes for the gusto

by Morgan P Salvo




We all have to make choices. Like if someone tells you a story and says it really happened, you want to choose to believe it. And if it’s an especially good story even better. And if it’s embellished, all over the map and totally unbelievable but makes you laugh then all the better. In other words, so what if it’s not true?
If you want to believe, go ahead, but this movie sheds its “found footage” concept pretty quickly and just digs deep into delivering the horror movie goods. Note that right at the beginning here I am going to tell you: there are credits to Apollo 18.
Apollo’s plot is so simple it’s refreshing: disguised as lost footage of a secret mission to the moon, a few good men go into space and find out something is really wrong and mysteriously deadly. The astronauts quickly realize they’re space bait guinea pigs and now its life or space death at the hands of creepy life forms on the moon. As in Ridley Scott’s masterpiece Alien, their mission is not a return flight. The space program’s head honchos back on planet earth only want a specimen of the dangerous stuff to verify its existence and keep it monitored. So what’s the problem with sacrificing a few astronauts?
Although Apollo 18 comes from the formulaic ilk of frontrunner Blair Witch, the idiocy of the Paranormal Activity chain and the super pathetic The Fourth Kind “found footage” school of filmmaking, it drops that notion like a lead balloon and even lets you laugh at the fact that you know damn well no one could possibly be holding a camera for certain scenes unless it was a union dude from Hollywood. Don’t be looking for Tom Hanks or Ed Harris or the scent of Ron Howard’s fingers on this one. This Apollo goes for intensity with stone cold performances, real NASA footage and sci-fi terror ripped right out of Alien.
And there are monsters. They enter in true horror movie style out of nowhere, darting in silhouette forms across the screen. They also have that Descent kind of monster noise – you know--- the hamster chuckling, woodpecker pecking, trees creaking, gurgling kind of noise. And they are spider/rock demon/crab monsters (like in South Park) so watch out if you ever bought a moon rock as a souvenir - it could turn out to bite you in the ass or drill into your abdomen.
Of course there is a big dramatic pause at the end to let you feel like you’ve just watched something real and inform you to go to “Lunartruth.com” which is basically a pseudo site designed to promote the movie—in fact its frozen and you can’t click on anything (I checked). But sticking around the theatre you’ll see about 12 minutes of credits including actors, writers and a slew of techno post production teams that boggle the mind. A major plus among the credits is editor Patrick Lussier, whose inspired directing skills brought us Drive Angry and My Bloody Valentine. Lussier has a bloody field day throwing images in our faces and using literally every trick in the book: grainy film stock, skips, bleeps washouts, jump cuts, fuzzy film hair, dust scratches, burn holes… you name it, it’s in there. The rewarding part is that though the gimmicks abound they don’t hinder or distract but instead propel the simple yet crazy narrative.
The actors should be acknowledged because they were impeccable. Astronaut Warren Christie is like a stern combo of Luke Wilson and James Caviezel (aka Jesus) and his partner-in-space Lloyd Owen who turns evil through infection is just as Oscar-worthy reliable. There’s also an un-credited third dude who spends his time weightless in the hovering observer ship who does all his acting upside down but he’s still swinging with the script. Everyone else in the cast is portrayed in voice-overs via intercoms and radio transmissions We’re also treated to some very cool music during the credits by a band that I’ve never heard of called Parking Lot.
Unlike the abysmal Paranormal Activity that reeks of phoniness from the get go and wants you to believe so bad that it shoots itself in the foot, Apollo 18 shuns the documentary concept and goes for the jugular, giving the polar opposite effect. Lopez-Gallego, Lussier and company could give a shit if you believe or not. These filmmakers are here to entertain you plain and simple, which in the long run turns out to be a great choice.

Apollo 18
Starring Warren Christie, Lloyd Owen
Directed by Gonzalo Lopez-Gallego
Rated PG-13
3 stars

Suspicious Minds

Fright Night's Remake exposes its humorous fangs

By Morgan P Salvo

Being on vacation sometimes changes the way you think. After being nestled in the tiny comfortable city of Cianciana, Sicily for a week all calm relaxed and really hot, a chance to take an hour bus ride to visit the ruins of Agrigento sounded cool. But it was even hotter there so the opportunity to grab a gelato and take in the cinema at the main piazza sounded even better than ancient Greek-looking half destroyed columns .I was more than willing to watch Horrible Bosses in Italian if not for just the experience but for the air conditioning to escape the 110 degree heat wave that was bearing down. Alas this was not to be as the movie times clashed with the bus ride back. So in anticipation of my next movie experience being able to write my next movie review I rifled through the upcoming shows in an internet café and came up Fright Night. I fired off a missive to my editor and got the green light for the 2011 remake of the 1985 horror flick that seems to run on every other channel ever other week even way before Halloween.
Fright Night is not nearly as bad as I thought but it has some funny problems and I think that’s its point. The easy to overlook inconsistencies with the plot and its storyline’s many holes one can put aside and just go with the goofy flow of this flick as it relies on part cheese, part ridiculous and well part… fright.

Beginning with an odd shot of tract homes in Las Vegas Fright Night chucks us right into the middle of clichéd horror movie suburban teen world. The skeletal plot revolves around missing bodies, claustrophobic bored people and a new neighbor who could very well be a blood sucking vampire. Vegas is the perfect setting for a neighborhood vampire’s nocturnal existence. The 1985 flick is only marginally redone and mostly updated with things like eBay references and contemporary gizmos called cell phones..
At first I thought FN was yet another installment of “why 3D?” but soon the camera work and images get their gears meshing and it all starts to click. And then about half way in there is a huge 3D surprise death scene payoff. Continuing from there is a lot of blown-to-smithereens vampire floating cinders that you want to swat away from your eyes. Director Craig Gillespie (Lars and the Real Girl Mr. Woodcock) proves again his warped sense of humor while nabbing cinematographer Javier Aguirresarobe (New Moon, Eclipse) to add more irony to the mix.
In the barrage of “it’s cool to be vamp” era we are constantly subjugated to, it was refreshing to see a real old school vampire tale fairly reverent to the original flick. This wave of vampire movies surely must come to an end and thankfully there is even a Twilight putdown in this flick. No boy-toy glitter or taking off of shirts here.
You can’t fault Colin Farrell with repeat performances as this chameleon actor does something different every time he’s on screen. He does some eye darting and smoldering that has to go down in history as one of the hardest body language signals to read as well as confusingly funny. The TV vampire hunter (originally by hammy Roddy McDowell) Peter Vincent (name coupling of horror icons Peter Cushing and Vincent Price) is played this time around by British television actor David Tennant with a boozy combination of David Frost meets Chris Angel Mindfreak. Christopher Mintz-Plasse (Super Bad Kick-Ass) is growing up but still embodies the super nerd. Anton Yelchin and Brit Imogen Poots (these two should seriously consider name changes) fare well together as the teen hot chick goes for nerd lovebirds. And Toni Collette does a “we’ve-seen-this-all-before” hip mom routine.
Fright Night better than I expected but not great, could be easy to pick on but even easier to let go and just have fun with the adequate smattering of sex, gore, suspense and humor. The best part by far was just being at the movies again with about only three other people. And even though Bend hasn’t reached the oven baking heat of Agrigento it sure was nice to sit in a theatre with air-conditioning.

Fright Night
Starring Colin Farrell, Anton Yelchin, David Tennant, Christopher Mintz-Plasse,
Toni Collette
Directed by Craig Gillespie
Rated R
2 ½ stars

From Sad To Worse

These Beginners have no luck
By Morgan P Salvo

At one point in Beginners, Ewan McGregor’s’ character Oliver, says “Jack Russells are bred to be cute”. The film’s implicit statement about human beings is much darker in contrast – humans are bred to be sad…and depressed.
Oliver meets Anna (Mélanie Laurent) after his the death of his father Hal (Christopher Plummer), who after 44 years of marriage came out of the closet at age 75 to live a full and energized gay life. The flashbacks of Hal’s newfound honesty turn out to be funny and moving, bringing father and son closer than they’d ever expected. Oliver attempts to love Anna with the same courage, humor, and hope that his father taught him but is at a loss as how to do this as he is perpetually morose.
Mike Mills, venturing into the anti-mainstream again since his 2005 quirk fest Thumbsucker, was smart to cast pretty people with problems, because let’s be honest, we all have problems. Oliver and Anna are beautiful messed up people so we tend to want to feel their pain, but really, if it were Paul Giamatti and Kathy Bates just being sad this movie would generate a whole different dynamic.

Saying that Beginners goes against the grain is putting it mildly. I don’t mind if a movie is about slow burn or existential pain, but if the focal point is just about being sad, backed up by loss and more sadness, there’s not a lot for the audience to sink their teeth into. We are awkwardly bombarded with a case of human spirit versus sadness, set in a backdrop of malaise. Though Hal found what he was looking for later in life and had a stellar time with it, why do these two beautiful people feel the need to brood so somberly?
Still there’s something to be said about a movie that sticks to its guns. Beginners sets a quirky yet somber tone and stays on course throughout. I have to give it props for its alternative way-off-the-beaten-path narrative, which saunters back and forth to tell the stories amidst diagram-like time lines, wherein we get to know who was president and what the sky looked like in 1955 or 1983.A bit too arty for its own good, at times its a necessary and rewarding distraction from all that hurt and angst emanating from the screen.

This flick is basically a story of the lost and lonely trying to discard the self-fulfilling prophecy of relationships never working out. This film studies two people who fear their own happiness and choose to betray and deprive themselves of any shred of pleasure while at the same time admitting that they’d like to try. It’s a consummate call of “Why Bother?” with the retort of because we can. Rustling up the discussion of “Do we really care for others or even ourselves?” the flipside is that if we do and get too analytical we can destroy everything.
Alongside kindness and poignancy we get glimmers of hope meshed with dashed dreams. But in this vague setting of nobody knowing why they do what they do, we get to accept that they just are.
Beginners, through deconstructing traditional opinions, conveys that life is hard. But it forgets to tell its two main characters to get over it...it’s not that bad.

Beginners

Starring Ewan McGregor, Christopher Plummer, Mélanie Laurent, Mary Page Keller
Directed by Mike Mills
2 ½ stars

Marking the Wrong Territory

Lame sleepy comedy mates badly voiced animals with kooky pratfalls
by Morgan P Salvo



It must be nice to be Adam Sandler’s pal. Keeping it all in the family and never having to make a movie original or sacred, just something mildly pleasing bound to rake in some cash. Kevin James is part of Sandler’s crew and Zookeeper is basically Night at the Museum where the zoo creatures talk when no one is looking. It’s a Dating Game version of Noah’s Ark, with James taking cues from the wild kingdom and peeing and grunting in public.
A typical “written-in-your-sleep” storyline, the plot involves Griffin, the kindly zookeeper, attempting to win back bad romance while good romance stares him in the face. The love the entire menagerie has towards the compassionate zookeeper feel the need to break their silence and lash out their ability to talk in an attempt to help get Griffin’s life together and of course stay at the zoo. We all know zookeeper’s real lot in life is with the critters not with car salesmen and plastic things riches can buy.

I’m sure the talking animals are wildly child-pleasing, but they weren’t realistic in the least. Incorporating real animals with the technologically outdated use of animated mouths, Zookeeper feels like an Animal Planet installment of Look Who’s Talking Too. The voices are a combo of bad chasing after horrid. The characterization of every critter seems wrong, like they were dubbing voices for another movie in an adjacent studio. Adam Sandler’s monkey screeches cute like Gilbert Gottfried and Maya Rudolph’s giraffe gargles in an Ebonics dialect sounding plain ridiculous. Sly Stallone’s lion seems brain damaged (what a shock). Cher’s lioness is weirdly out of place and Nick Nolte’s gorilla is just off the charts wrong. Plus the gorilla looks like a guy in the monkey suit from bad Konga movies.
For those of you that cannot get enough of Kevin James’ King of Queens shtick and/or the Paul Bart Mall Cop slapsticks here it is again in all its pratfall glory. He falls down a lot, runs into and breaks things, acts startled and has this uncanny ability to movie his head while driving to imaginary music, be it rap or heavy metal. Oh and he also busts some dance moves and acrobatics that show he’s still limber even though he’s a big fat guy. Through amazingly unfunny montages and lame dialogue still Rosario Dawson comes of demurely sweet and cool. I have no idea how she does it.
Zookeeper is poorly timed and strangely subdued. I wasn’t expecting Eugene O’Neill but was somewhat taken aback by this idiot fest and what some people find humorous. It’s too bad Sandler and company can’t make everyone laugh.


Zookeeper
Starring Kevin James, Rosario Dawson, Adam Sandler, Maya Rudolph, Sly Stone, Cher, Nick Nolte
1 star

Lackadaisical Reinvention

Shamefully unconvincing
by Morgan P Salvo

I have a confession to make. Sometimes when no one’s looking, I’ll force myself to watch a romantic comedy just to see how much I can take before retching. It’s never very long. Like watching a bad accident my mouth hangs open and I begin to wonder what is not only wrong with actors, writers and directors but the world at large. Something is amiss in this vacuum they call Rom Coms. The most recent flicks I attempted were The Ugly Truth and Couples Retreat resulting in my almost committing Hari Kari. I just cannot get a handle on this formulaic crud that happy ending love stories are made of. Fairy Tales do not come true. What works for some decapitates another. So I figured the only way to get through Larry Crowne without hurting myself or anyone in a five mile radius was to make it a date night with my darn fiancé. Well here’s the deal. Neither of us liked it. Larry Crowne is probably the blandest uninventive movie I think I’ve ever seen. It reeks of laziness and bad timing. Now I like Tom Hanks. He’s a sharp witty guy but cute. And here in this movie about a non college educated man losing his job thanks to the financial situation while suffering a mid-life crisis who finally gets around to reinventing himself, Hanks as director/co-writer and star handles everything way too cute. I’ve been racking my brain trying to remember if Tom Hanks has ever said “fuck” in a movie.Besides that we have hand picked character actors and Julia Roberts as Julia Roberts serving as the most misguided and unbelievable love interest.
Larry Crowne’s previews sell the feel good aspect of this move and even though they prepared me for blandness I had no idea that this movie would be propelled by mediocrity. Creating one of the weirdest screen vacuums I have ever witnessed in my movie going experiences, beyond the previews there’s nothing else in this movie. We are left guessing as to what motivates virtually everyone on this flick. Hanks even finds a way to drop the ball with the comedy gold casting of George Takei (Star Trek’s Zulu)
Larry Crowne is the most superficially overdone concept hitting the theatre to date. I cannot even get a handle on what age bracket or target demographic the filmmakers were trying to reach. It seems Hanks is out of touch. With all his Hollywood money he’s attempting to make a statement that no matter what, change can happen even in this over achieving financially doomed climate .Every single scene is handled in slow motion while submerged in a sugary sweet version of fairy tale love and the bettering of one’s self. The weak classroom scenes have no character development. There is no growth; all characters are underdeveloped and never explored. This movie screams out for cursing and nudity. The closest it gets is Bryan (Breaking Bad) Cranston’s character looking at bikini topped internet babes woefully referred to as porn surfing.
Crowne’s witty, charming and “ha-hah we’re all learning and having fun” façade scares me. I start to feel nauseous like someone slipped me a foul tasting slow acting poison. No one can juggle this much inanely kooky and planned out dialogue in the real world. Everything about Larry’s fairy tale of self-reinvention in a mired economy rings hollow and shockingly unconvincing. This movie made me feel queasy. I know Hanks has an electric car which makes him hip but he’s asleep at the wheel here. Tom not only drops the ball but smashes it into the earth and covers it with a milksop’s, milquetoast’s wet blanket. Meandering and tone deaf this is the most vacant movie devoid of anything concrete to entertain. Some of the most forced hideous dialogue comes out of some of the most pancake makeup faces in film history.Move Over Green Hornet, Feel Good Larry Crowne just made worst movie of the year All this flick really boils down to is an empty piece of fluff specifically geared for Tom Hanks and Julia Roberts fans only. And even they will be disappointed. I know my date was.

Larry Crowne
Starring Tom Hanks, Julia Roberts,
Directed by Tom Hanks
Rated PG-13

Zero stars

Despite the tuxedos this is No Formal Affair

A frozen entrée served cold

By Morgan P Salvo

I have already gone on record to say that I can’t stand Jim Carrey. I recently saw him on a few daytime TV shows just making an ass out of himself valiantly trying to prove how funny we must think he is. I used to give him credit for being an Ok guy in real life. No more. I’ve always said that even the lamest of actors can give one good performance. Carrey’s claim to fame was I love you Phillip Morris. Mr. Popper’s Penguins is not. I can concede that Carrey can act if/when he ever gets the chance but he still cannot make me laugh. I find his rubber faced antics and jerky movements and overall hamming it up offensive. Didn’t he have his day in the sun and get replaced by Will Farrell who got replaced by Steve Carrell oh wait--- then there’s Ben Stiller Jack Black to contend with. Up and comers Russell Brand and Michael Cera don’t stand a chance. Let’s face it with Hollywood churning out generic scripts and ideas in “vehicle” movies for comedians to repeat every thing they’ve done in every movie they’ve ever made… they will never leave! Its time for these tired old comedic repeat performances to retire. Thankfully Carrey’s star seems to be fading judging by the minuscule number of audience participants.
This innocuous film is about the most G a PG flick can get. Not interested in believable scenarios it just goes for the saccharine jugular Penguins is touching, sweet, stupid and endearing. With the combo of Carrey as bouncy goofy funnyman/jackass and cute penguins what could possibly go wrong? The answer is nothing. This flick is such formulaic drivel that I can’t fault it for its methodological genius. This Carrey “vehicle” designed to move the hearts of Good Samaritans and Peta alike could easily be called "Dances With Penguins". Here we have Carrey in the role of Mr. Popper, a businessman whose life begins to change and his professional side starts to unravel after he inherits six penguins. Go figure. There’s the requisite love/hate relationship between Carrey and Penguins, the bonding with kids and ex-wife, and of course the evil zookeeper. Turning his apartment into a winter wonderland Carrey dances with penguins, makes faces, jerks his body; it’s basically Ace Ventura with a heart of gold. Popper’s is mainly an ensemble piece hinging on the (mostly animated) penguins allowing only a few Carrey-esque moments including some over-the-top body language and bad funny voices. And what could make this movie even cuter? That’s right, they even have baby penguins. This is the kind of movie parents will be dragging their kids to for all eternity. Youngsters will love it. There was really no reason for me to see this movie. I took a huge bullet for the team on this one. I am not fond of family friendly sagas especially something this filled with formulaic mush. But in order to expand my critical horizons I sat through this entire movie and I have to say I’ve seen worse, though not by not much. Balancing stupid with cute this flick is more aimed at charming kids and there it succeeds. Not a lot of laughs just a lot of penguin shenanigans. Not very funny and not too adorable it’s sort of pathetic how sugary this flick is. Still Penguins is harmless fun just not my idea of a good time. Sure take the kids have a blast with raging cuteness but leave me out of it.


Mr. Popper’s Penguins
Starring Jim Carrey, Carla Gugino, Angela Lansbury, Ophelia Lovibond, Philip Baker Hall, David Krumholtz
Directed by Mark S. Waters
1 star

Barking Up the Wrong Tree

 Art house flick goes out on a limb hanging heavy on the art
by
Morgan P Salvo

I dig Terrence Malick. Rarely have we seen such a director go out on a limb, taking chances few artists dare to make. Since his classic Badlands starring youngsters Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek chronicling the true life Charles Starkweather’s murder spree, Malick has made only three other movies (Days of Heaven, Thin Red Line and New World), all non-linear poetic cinematic sonnets hailed and scorned by fans and critics alike. With Tree of Life, Malick stirs the pot. Even if this movie sucks, long live Terrence Malick for his controversial visionary style.
Tree of Life won the Palme d'Or at Cannes giving credit where credit is due. Now I understand art and messing with it, deconstructing it and making the big artistic statement, but 2 hours and 18 minutes makes this film an endurance test. Cinematically Tree of Life is an enthralling, mesmerizing film. Meticulous to the hilt, technically everything shines. But after a half an hour we get it. We know what this film is about or not going to be about. The trip it takes isn’t so hard to follow, it’s just image after image in Malick’s surreal photogenic style. This is one of the most beautiful and intensely filmed bore-fests I have ever seen.

What poses as a plot is the story of the trial and tribulations of a 1950s Texas family. The film focuses on the eldest son, Jack, (Hunter McCracken) through the innocence of childhood to his disillusioned adult years. Pampered by his mother (Jessica Chastain), he tries to reconcile a complicated relationship with his father (Brad Pitt). The family experiences a loss of one of three children, with happiness and pain played out through everyone’s growing emotional despair. Jack as an adult (Sean Penn) finds himself a lost soul in a corporate modern world, seeking answers to the origins and meaning of life while questioning the existence of faith.
I knew to give into the style immediately. Tree’s editing is fast and furious while the narrative meanders in a dreamlike slow motion pace. The flick had the ability to reel you right in at the beginning, then it started to detour. Roughly 20 minutes in, the movie shifts gears to a creationist vision of the world not unlike 2001: A Space Odyssey. Perhaps intentional, Stanley Kubrick's special-effects creator Douglas Trumbull served as a visual consultant on Malick’s stunning depiction of the dawn of time. Awe-inspiring images appear at massive intensity, including a colorful nebula expanding in outer space, cells multiplying, shimmering jellyfish, volcanic eruptions, glimpses of dinosaurs, and not too mention a lot of bubbling primordial ooze. The link between Jack's story and the film's prehistoric daydream is never clear, though its essential meaning is clearly expressed. Conveying the sense of birth this flick begs to urgently question, yet also accepts, the presence of God in a fallen world.
The focus of Pitt’s character’s dichotomy becomes clear as he is moved by classical music yet tormented by his post WWII era temperament. Who could’ve conceived Brad Pitt would star in a movie slower than Benjamin Button? If I had my druthers I would choose this artistic creative pastel of ambiance and wonderment over the silly concept of someone aging backward.
TOL resembles a poem and sometimes a symphony. Most often, it’s a dreamlike prayer weirdly detailing memories about growing up in Texas during the 50’s, with scary yet powerful reminders of a suburban domestic and “safer” era albeit a more ignorant time when cigarettes helped digestion and spraying DDT from trucks on kids parading down the street was just good fun. Malick is deftly in tune with the Norman Rockwell-esque feel as he grew up during this time period in Texas himself. It’s too bad that after a while, you wonder if this flick is worth sitting through. People I have spoken with say it was a chore to stay awake; another nodded right off.
Defying true definition, this is a beautiful movie but sadly easily forgettable. I thought afterword the images of Tree would come at me, sparking new generated thoughts of how I grew up, but instead it had the opposite affect. I can hardly remember the movie at all - it’s a blur. Not a bad one, but an artistic blur. TOL doesn’t make you think, it makes you feel, but only as an afterthought does it conjure up feelings. That’s not necessarily a bad thing but it seems like torture to sit through a movie in a theater to get to your true feelings later. My favorite part was listening to other moviegoers talking in the corridors afterward. No one seemed to have seen the same film and as I thought to myself “what a bunch of morons, they didn’t get it”, it dawned on me: there’s nothing to get, it’s all in the interpretation. At its most basic this flick is a testament to capturing our memories
One thing for sure, Tree of Life brilliantly articulates in cinematic terms, the way we remember.


Tree of Life

Starring Brad Pitt, Sean Penn, Jessica Chastain, Hunter McCracken
Director: Terrence Malick
Rated PG-13
2 ½ stars