Review - The Raven

Grade: C

Full disclosure: I’ve loved Edgar Allan Poe’s work since my father gave an illustrated digest of some of Poe’s most famous short stories, so I’m more than a little partial to seeing Poe’s works given life on the big screen.

That said, James McTeigue’s (V for Vendetta) latest, The Raven, is a curious artifact. Reminiscent of a time in the late 90’s and early 00’s when a good old-fashioned mystery could put buts in the theater seats rather than in front of the tube, The Raven plays like a sluggish, faux pretentious knockoff of the the Hughes Brothers’ From Hell adaptation, complete with an anachronistic approach to social customs and forensics and an eccentric protagonist.

The Raven traces the supposed last days Poe’s, played with manic verbosity and comical arrogance by John Cusack, relentlessly tragic life, as he is thrust into an investigation, by dashing Baltimore Detective Fields (Luke Evans), of grisly murders based on his most famous short stories. Together, Poe, Fields, and Baltimore’s finest must rush to find the killer before Poe’s latest true love, the prim Emily Hamilton (Alice Eve), is buried alive. While mostly a Se7en for the Goth crowd--which seems redundant--The Raven spends a significant time establishing Poe as a simultaneously underrated and renowned genius who was barely keeping his life together before his demise, which may be accurate but nowhere near as glamourous as McTeigue makes it seem.

McTeigue does an adequate job of recreating 19th century Baltimore and giving it some of the same visual flourishes seen in the London-set opening of the last Pirates of the Caribbean movie, but he drops the ball on almost every other element, especially pacing. The Raven is a slog, dragging from scene to scene without any particularly inspired aesthetic, narrative, or thematic purpose. The weak pacing might not be a problem if the mystery at the core of The Raven wasn’t so patently uninspired. When the killer and their motivation are revealed, few members of the audience will be surprised or invested enough to care.

The performances in The Raven do little to elevate the flaccid material. Cusack spends more time running around like a verbose eccentric prone to delusions of grandeur and lacking an inside voice, a view of Poe which I would bet is based on a non-English major’s perception of all tortured writers. Cusack chomps through so much scenery that the rest of the cast barely registers. Luke Evans, the newest version of the Orlando Bloom heartthrob model, makes a noble effort to out-yell Cusack, but his role is little more than a stoic straight man to Cusack’s wacky genius--indeed, theirs is a partnership destined for Friday night slot on USA. Alice eve plays the classic damsel in distress with little uniqueness or polish while next big thing Oliver Jackson-Cohen and veterans like Brendan Gleeson and Mr. Gibbs (Kevin McNally) glower and bluster and the insane proceedings.

With its uninspired performances and sluggish approach to a fairly dated premise, The Raven is far from a must-see experience, and it will never be the type of movie high schoolers can use to avoid their American Literature homework. Yet, it may appeal to poor suckers, like me, who find re-imaginings of Victorian-era detectives and literary heroes to be vaguely fascinating, much like a well-reviewed, low-selling indie comic that captures a handful of readers before its unfortunate cancellation. The Raven may not be  for everybody, but the literature majors, remaining Goths, and those indigent souls who leave liquor at Poe’s grave every year will at least find it amusing.

Yin, Yang, and the In-Between

Yin: Cusack chomps scenery as a parody of Poe while Luke Evans and the cast do little to keep up; Uninspired mystery at the core will leave most viewers cold or asleep.

Yang: Like other recent cinematic adventures to the 19th century, fascinating as a comic-booky imagining of Poe’s as a Holmesian crime-solver.

In-Between: I’m dating myself, but remember Edgar Allan Poe from the Beetlejuice cartoon? As cartoony as this is, it somehow never comes close to that parody.

Review - Safe

Grade: B-

As soon as the trailer for Jason Statham’s newest beat’em up, Safe, popped up online, complete with skull cracking and guns blazing over the fate of blank-faced young asian girl, I knew exactly what to expect: Transporter 4.

Imagine my surprise when I got a little more than that.

Slightly underrated screenwriter/director Boaz Yakin, delivers standard-issue Statham in a simple package with Safe but manages to weave in enough, relatively, subtle humor and relentless energy to push this entry in the Statham oeuvre just below Snatch or The Bank Job. Now, I admit to some hyperbole there because Statham’s been making the same movie, and playing the same mumble-mouthed smart guy, for more than a decade, so anything slightly different will stand out. In terms of narrative, Safe is no more unique than Transporters 1-16, following Statham as a suicidal homeless ex-cage fighter with a shadowy past out to protect an possibly autistic young girl (Catherine Chen) who holds a secret that puts her dead in the sights of Russian Gangsters, Chinese Triads, and dirty NYPD cops.

From the opening frames, Yakin makes it clear that Safe belongs to Chen’s Mei as much as it does to Statham’s cagey Luke Wright by energetically splicing the moments that lead each character to their fateful meeting. Yakin shows a great hand at visual shorthand and abbreviated storytelling with the opening; while he rarely comes close to that level of achievement later in the flick, he at least keeps the pace snappy thanks to an steady barrage of unblinkingly violent set pieces. Safe easily qualifies for one of the highest body counts ever in a Statham vehicle. In the roughly 24-48 hour span of the narrative, at least 100 unfortunate souls fall to abrupt demises at the end of a bullet to the head or a boot to the skull, and it is pretty damn wonderful. Granted, Safe may not match the sheer carnage and near-genocide of Spring’s uncrowned action champ, The Raid: Redemption, but it makes a solid run at the crown.

Amidst the the overblown orgy of bullet battles and fisticuffs, Safe manages to pause for some quirky moments of levity that, thankfully, never hinge on Chen overplaying her cuteness, which would be pretty difficult considering her grounded, non-Disney soldier appearance. Much of the humor in Safe comes from Statham’s sly digs at his outmatched opponents and simple interactions between Luke and Mei. Yakin wisely avoids overemphasizing the humor and opts to let the chronological and cultural disconnect between Luke and Mei speak for itself. By taking the road less traveled, Yakin actually manages to wring more honest laughs out of Safe than one would expect.

Between the humor and the devastation, Safe proves to be far more fun than it should be, no thanks to some one-note performances and wretched dialogue. Statham performs to expectation in a role he could sleepwalk through by now, yet Chen manages to give Mei an apt balance of melancholy, arrogance, and spite, which seems about right considering she was stolen from her home and forced into a life of crime. While Statham and Chen anchor Safe, they receive some fairly one-dimensional support from veteran character actors Robert John Burke, James Hong, and Reggie Lee, all playing variations of stereotypical heavies whose desire for self-preservation far outweighs their common sense. Chris Sarandon shows up midway through to bring some fire to the proceedings as the besieged and duplicitous Mayor whose method of keeping the Big Apple safe had little to do with Broken Window Theory. Also on hand is Anson Mount, the poor soul who was dragged into the circle of hell known as Crossroads, in a intriguing but underdeveloped role as as the Mayor’s right hand. As one-dimensional as the performances are, they’ve got nothing on the generally sterile, expository dialogue that sounds more like Saturday morning villainy than anything remotely realistic.

Crappy dialogue and one-note performances notwithstanding, Safe is solid, overblown, fast-paced fun (your welcome for the pull quote). Sure its typical Statham, but at least this time there’s a litany of bodies, a smidge of heart, and a touch levity to break the routine and create a much better flick than one would anticipate based on the trailer.

Yin: Fast-paced, relentlessly violent, subtly humorous take on typical Statham actioner. Chen shows solid chops, and avoids the cute kid trap, while Statham cracks skulls with aplomb.

Yang: Laughable dialogue and one-note supporting performances hamper a generally enjoyable experience.

In-Between: Nuts+Pole=Wince

Review - Lockout

Grade: C

Anyone with a passing familiarity of superhero movie development knows about Supermax, the Green Arrow vehicle that would drop the Batman knockoff into a prison filled with supervillains. Of course, anybody who knows about Supermax also knows that it has been stuck in development hell for years.  

Not content to let such a juicy story lay dormant, producer Luc Besson and co-conspirators James Mather and Stephen St. Leger devised Lockout as the answer to moviegoers who are either desperate for Supermax or just desperate for some old-fashioned B-movie hackery.

Sixty years in the future, where technology has obviously advanced so quickly that the world has finally become the set of Blade Runner, ex-CIA operative, professional asshole, and new member of the one-named icon club, Snow, played by the under appreciated but never underrated Guy Pearce—seriously when is this guy going to blow up in America—has been caught by some shady Secret Service heavies, led by Peter Stormare’s gravelly Langral, after being framed for the murder of a former CIA partner. Convicted without any sniff of a fair trial, Snow is sentenced to 30 years on space station prison, MS-1, where prisoners are turned into Matrix batteries for the duration of their term. Just before Snow is shipped off, First Daughter, Emilie Warnock (Maggie Grace), makes a jaunt to the Supermax in the Sky to see if prisoners are being treated fairly in a prison where they are frozen and effectively mindwiped for decades. A piece of hell breaks loose when Misfits star Joseph Gilgun’s creepy one-eyed convict gets the drop on Warnock’s entourage and proceeds to unfreeze hundreds of prisoners, including the shrewd Alex (Vincent Regan). With the President’s daughter trapped, Snow is offered a deal: infiltrate Ms-1, save the First Daughter, and walk free. All he has to do is make his way through a prison suspended thousands of miles above Earth’s orbit that is filled with the worst criminals alive. No problem.

From Lockout’s first scene, it’s clear that St. Leger and Mather have transposed a video game onto celluloid. The stench of cheap CGI is thick on this flick. St. Leger and Mather’s ADD editing distorts action into and endless stream whipping lights and any object with weight bends into a rubbery cartoon. It’s amazing Lockout wasn’t touted as a green screen production because that may have marginally improved its Q rating. While this approach renders most of the action in Lockout fairly devoid of substance and tension, St. Leger and Mather make up for it by keeping the pace quick. Lockout breezes breathlessly from scene to scene—you’re welcome for the pull quote. The pace saves the audience from thinking more deeply about the plot than Lockout’s creators did.  

St. Leger and Mather may not put their absolute best foot forward on Lockout, but at least some the cast tries to elevate the material. Pearce, unsurprisingly, proves generally effective as an even more dickish riff on Han Solo than the original as the rakish Snow. His self-centered antics are so pitched that audiences will either love the character or hate him, which is as much as an actor can ask from their audience. With so much of the film resting on Pearce’s shoulders the rest of the cast seem content to fulfill the guidelines of their respective archetypes. Grace is alternatively self-righteous and panicked then competent as the First Daughter. Stormare dials up the slime and slithers as shadowy Secret Service head Langral. Reagan and Gilgun scowl and twitch, respectively, as only classic B-grade villains can. Only Lennie James steps up and gives some depth and personality to his role as Snow’s nonplussed handler, Shaw.

The efforts of the cast and crew aside, Lockout is exactly the type of B—knocking on C—grade entertainment that thrives in January, which is surprising considering its release between one juggernaut—The Hunger Games—and a nuclear warhead—Avengers. Sadly, as theaters prepare to get glutted with summer blockbusters, Lockout will probably fall into oblivion, but not for lack of trying and succeeding at being the middling, forgettable slice of entertainment it was destined to be.

Yin: C-level direction and performances, with a few exceptions, and B-movie ethos as to be expected from Luc Besson’s film factory.  

Yang: Pearce and Shaw offer some solid, engaging performances that match the material, and the quick pacing keeps the proceedings from dragging unnecessarily.

In-Between: In the year 2012, should we even believe that world will change so significantly in the next 50-100 years that it will make some of the technology in these films anything other than pipe dreams? 

Review - American Reunion

Grade: D

One would think that the folks behind the American Pie franchise would be content to rest on their laurels and wedge Eugene Levy and his eyebrows into as many direct-to-Redbox sequel/spin-offs as possible before Levy expires from this mortal coil.

Clearly that modest cash cow is not enough for Universal because they’ve rescued as much of the original cast from oblivion as possible to reunite for the desperate and contrived, American Reunion, a sequel that probably should have been abandoned to the same abyss as Chris Klein’s career.

Reunion brings the gang from East Falls High back to Michigan for their 13-year reunion. Of course everybody is older, rounder, and dissatisfied with their sex lives. Erstwhile lead, Jim Levinstein (Jason Biggs, the lost Savage brother) is dealing with the loss of the sexy times spark in his marriage to former band geek, Michelle (Alyson Hannigan) after the birth of their 2-year old. Meanwhile, sensitive oral transaction expert Kevin (Thomas Ian Nicholas) faces the trials of domestication as a unfulfilled house husband while ex-lacrosse jock Oz (Chris Klein) struggles with fading obscurity as a washed-up athlete and “analyst” on some knock off ESPN 8 network. With most of the gang adjusting to adulthood,Stifler (Seann William Scott) and Finch (Eddie Kaye Thomas) the respective masters of chaos and order of the American Pie-verse, have failed to launch, both landing back at home and living up to their high school reps and nothing more. Stifler in particular seems to be reaping the karma of his years as an unrepentant bully in his position as a temp to Vik Sahay’s diminutive bossman. Seeking a respite from the malaise of adulthood, the boys reconvene a few days before the reunion to engage in the same degree of knuckleheaded debauchery that led them to their current misery, all while running afoul of most of the cast of the original American Pie as well as a new generation of horndogs.

Co-directors Jon Hurwitz and Hayden Schlossberg of Harold & Kumar fame nail the post-Porky’s tone of the American Pie franchise perfectly, complete with awkward attempts to wedge a hint of character development into the overwhelming silliness. The problem is this tone is antiquated in the wake of the films borne in the wake of the original Pie. There’s no way the hijinks of the East Falls boys can match the insanity of the one scene of the Hangover, and the characters aren’t honest and developed enough to measure against some of the best characters that highlight of any of Judd Apatow’s films or more recent hits like Bridesmaids. Thus, the axiom that “the first is the best” isn’t quite apt here. The Pie series may have helped reignite the trend of the R-rated comedy, but it has been left behind by far better raunchy comedies with solid narrative thrusts. The lack of a driving narrative cripples Reunion, as the best it can offer is a trite sitcom-esque plot hovering around thematic lamentations for joys of high school and the vague desire for an active sex life among bored, well-off young adults.

Being led by a cast of has-beens and never-weres doesn’t do much to improve the Reunion’s quality. While some of the cast have improved their craft and gone on to do some reputable work--no, we’re not looking at you Tara Reid--Reunion gives them very little to work with. Biggs’ Jim is the same awkward dork he was in the first Pie, just as Scott’s Stifler is the same dickish imp and Thomas’ Finch is the exact effete connoisseur of coitus he was thirteen years ago. The sheer lack of character development does a disservice to even the worst actors because there’s nothing to play aside from hitting a series of 13-year old beats. Even the female cast are underserved, with solid talent like Alyson Hannigan reduced to playing a variation on Willow that was stretched thin nine year ago.

All things considered, Reunion isn’t pure garbage, and, admittedly, has a few chuckle-worthy moments, but the comedy is never sustained to a degree that matches the kitchen-sink ethos of today’s more popular R-rated comedies. Sadly, Hurwitz, Schlossberg, and the cast do next to nothing to make these characters and this story any more than it was 13 years ago: a fairly bland raunch-fest about a bunch of whiny, goofy tools who are nowhere near cool enough to get laid.

The Yin and the Yang of it  -

Yin: Tired revisit with negligible narrative thrust, character development, or comedy. Most of the "knocking on D-list" cast is saddled with characters who haven’t grown or become funny in 13 years.

Yang: A few chuckles to be had in the early goings and some faint attempts at making one or two characters resemble human beings stem some of the bleeding in this trite mess.

In-Between: Kids, don’t ever open your parents closed bedroom door without knocking.

Review - Cabin in the Woods

Grade: B+

It’s no coincidence that Joss Whedon’s long-delayed passion project Cabin in the Woods is hitting theaters less than a month before his second, and biggest, directorial effort,  on Marvel’s all-but-guaranteed blockbuster Avengers. It is probably also not a coincidence that Cabin stars the Avengers’ own god of thunder, Chris Hemsworth.

This is cash grab scheduling at its most disappointingly obvious, but it is a deceptively high quality cash grab.

Directed by Cloverfield director Drew Goddard, Cabin in the Woods is full-tilt geek bait of the highest order, but you’d never know it from the setup. Cabin revolves around five college friends, including Hemsworth’s brainy jock, Curt; Kristen Connolly’s virginal Dana;  Jesse Wiliams’ brainy wallpaper, Holden; Anna Hutchinson’s slutty Jules; and Whedon repertory player Fran Kranz’s shaggy stoner Marty. The five make their way to the nominal cabin, which is buried behind a mountain and just beside a crystal clear lake, where after a night of mild debauchery they run afoul of a few backwoods zombies that prove to be just the absolute tip of the iceberg of secrets that lies beneath the mysterious cabin in the woods.

Whedon and Goddard tip their hand pretty early in Cabin as to the what’s going beneath the surface, which is a fairly smart and consistently funny--mostly due to Kranz’s pitch perfect timing and Whedon’s reliably quippy--satire on the moral absolutist underpinnings of the modern slasher flick. Anybody with a cursory knowledge of Whedon’s oeuvre--especially Buffy spinoff, Angel--knows what’s going on from the second frame. Whedon and Goddard obviously know their target audience, as well as a fair amount of the casual audience, and they lay out a solid trail of bread crumbs before zagging at the zig points and delivering a climax and denouement so far out of left field, yet so thoroughly entertaining, that audiences will be hard pressed to keep their jaws off the ground in the last half hour. As entertaining as the proceedings are, Goddard takes a workman-like approach to the visual style, failing to bring even a fraction of the slim degree of artistry he brought to Cloverfield to Cabin, and relies far too heavily on pat jump scares. Luckily, Whedon’s script carries the load, remaining punchy and smart throughout while eschewing some of Whedon’s trademark cutesy Buffy-isms. Based on the script alone, Whedon and Goddard show a lot of respect to their audience’s intelligence and appreciation for genre storytelling, which isn’t uncommon but always welcome in today’s geek-pandering market.

Whedon pulled double duty as writer and producer on Cabin, which makes the presence of the parade of Buffy, Dollhouse, and Angel alumnus less than a surprise. Ironically, Hemsworth, who wasn’t a household name when Cabin was filmed, is probably the biggest draw. Here, Hemsworth seems to be prepping for his role as Marvel’s Mighty Mjolnir slinger by ratcheting that frat boy excess up to nine by essentially playing Scooby Doo’s Freddy with an academic scholarship. Make no mistake, all the cast are playing live action variations on the original Scooby Gang--not Buffy’s--some far better than other. Despite some noble attempts, Hutchinson is more unsettling than appealing as Jules--which is probably the point--while poor Jesse Williams fades completely into the background as Holden. Kristen Connolly plays virtuous hero girl Dana with the typical empty heroism expected of the character, apparently failing to take advantage of the wisdom of the Joss and make the character come alive in any unique way. 

Per usual for Whedon’s works, the supporting characters are the real stars. Kanz’s Marty will quickly become an audience favorite for being smart, likable, and resilient. Veteran character actors Richard Jenkins and Bradley Whitford also prove memorable as a pair of overhyped, underachieving salarymen who are try to keep the Cabin Scoobies experience on track, and both are hilariously adept at making their less than savory work mildly entertaining with the help of Whedon’s favorite Mary Sue, Amy Acker, in a role that may seem quite familiar to Angel fans. There are also a few casting surprises that are more satisfying in execution than intent.

Indeed for a three-year old horror love letter satire that eschews torture porn, gore for the sake of gore, and thin ghost stories, Cabin offers an intelligent and entertaining take on a genre that is slightly closer to Whedon’s heart than superheroes. If only this was released three years ago, it wouldn’t be such an obvious, borderline insulting cash grab, and maybe, Whedon wouldn’t have to risk his directorial career on one big blockbuster.  

The Yin and the Yang of it  -

Yin: Obvious cash grab to capitalize on the upcoming Avengers flick and  Whedon and Hemsworth’s impending superstardom. Geek bait to the extreme; may alienate those who don’t worship at the foot of the Joss. Not particularly scary save fora few obligatory jump scares.

Yang: Consistently witty and intelligent satire with biting commentary on horror and the genre’s moralistic underpinnings. Franz Kanz should earn a greater measure of stardom thanks to his smart, likable turn as a hyper aware stoner. Packed with cameos and bit parts from Dollhouse, Buffy, and Angel Alum, reinforcing its position as pure geek bait. 

In-Between: Beware the Unicorn.