Review - Brave

Grade: B

Before I devote 700 or so words to Brave, allow to me to talk about archery for a spell. 

So far, this year’s cinematic offerings have brought audiences four heroes with archery skills in as many months: Katniss Everdeen, Hawkeye, Snow White’s Prince William, and Brave’s Merida. This fall, the CW will air a new series featuring DC Comics’ Green Arrow, the creatively minimalist Arrow. Apparently, not long after The Hunger Games' Katniss drew her bow on the big screen, interest in archery increased across the country, and now, the sport is on a course to be destination viewing at the Olympics. I have nothing against archery, but I think the current zeitgeist around the art of manual projectile fire is the mostly the fault of one thing: the gun.

Sure, Hollywood always has a propensity to copy its own “creative” efforts and establish trends through dueling enterprises (see: Mirror Mirror and Snow White and the Huntsman), but the popularity of archery among this season’s heroes and heroines speaks to a rejection of the very thing many audiences and filmmakers have become: lazy. It’s easy for a hero to pick up a gun, but to draw a bow and let an arrow fly with great accuracy is a skill, albeit one that’s fairly useless as a pragmatic offensive strategy in age where most combatants would much rather pick up a gun. 

Ironically, that’s exactly what Pixar is doing with it’s latest, Mark Andrews’ Brave. Brave builds so heavily off of the Disney princess formula that, despite the obvious work devoted to developing a strong core built around a somewhat fascinating rumination on the mother-daughter relationship, it is clear that Disney's assimilation of Pixar is complete. Brave is just shy of being the quintessential Disney princess movie. It embodies the goal almost every Disney has been building to since Snow White: the independent princess as the feminist ideal. Brave, ostensibly, is the tale of Merida (Kelly McDonald, delivering a spritely brogue accent), a tomboyish Scottish princess with a skill for archery and absolutely no need for a prince to define her, who desperately wants to choose her fate/destiny/path in life, despite the protestations of her mother, the prim Queen Elinor (Emma Thompson).  

The struggle between Merida and Elinor simmered for years, apparently, and explodes when Merida is forced to marry one of the princes--including a dandy, a doofus, and a dope with a impassable accent--of the neighboring kingdoms. The conflict takes a unforeseen turn when Merida happens upon a witch and wishes to change her mother in a way that will allow her the freedom to do as she pleases. With that wish, the witch casts a spell that eventually turns Elinor into a bear. In the mold of Disney’s Freaky Friday, mother and daughter must work together to break the spell that can probably only be broken through mutual understanding and compassion.

The core of Brave is so solid that it makes the unnecessary complications of the plot seem unnecessary and slight. Brave works only because the characters and themes at its core are crafted with more care than the plot. If this was solely a character piece, not meant to capture the attention of young audiences for 90 minutes, then Brave would have been an unabashed success, but as it is Brave risks, which zags instead of zigging as soon as the witch is introduced, losing its core because it is so bent on jumping through hoops just to up the ante on a simple, powerful conflict. Now, I’m not advocating for indie sensibilities in a Disney tentpole, but a less is more approach would have prevented this movie from putting some of the kids in the screening audience to sleep.

That’s not to say that Brave is not entertaining; in fact, Merida’s brothers--three mischievous scamps always in search of a tasty pastry--her boisterous father, King Fergus (Billy Connolly), the fight-hungry lordss (Robbie Coltrane, Kevin McKidd, and Craig Ferguson), and their goofy sons are consistently chortle-worthy. However, the reason these characters are funny is due to a clear “men are mischievous, violent dopes” vibe that runs throughout. While I am all for presenting the positive female images that are desperately needed in modern fiction, the ascension of these images in Brave comes at the expense of every male character. So, what does that say to the young boys and girls in the audience?

I hate to bemoan Brave because there is obvious care and effort on display here, but there’s a bit of tone deafness and contrivance that wreaks havoc with the human story at the core of this flick; even the cute pre-movie short, La Luna, lacks a bit of spark despite an exceptional effort to be a mildly touching and comical reflection on generational discord. Bringing life to simple human stories is what Pixar does best, but it is something they do well because they devote skill and effort to building simple stories without relying heavily on formula and stereotyping. In the case of Brave, Pixar should have just dropped the gun and stuck with the arrow.

Yin: A contrived plot and feminist perspective that paints men as “dopes” weaken a slightly inspired spin on Freaky Friday with a solid core. Pre-movie short is cute but slight in comparison to previous Pixar shorts.

Yang: The central examination of the mother-daughter relationship is well-done, and the moments of levity provided by those dopey menfolk are fairly amusing. Visuals are as lush and gorgeous, as expected from the good people at Pixar

In-between: More butt shots than I thought would be allowable in a Disney flick. Times have indeed changed.

Review - John Carter

Grade: C-

Yin: Uneven tone, sluggish pacing, and weak performances fail to elevate material beyond expertly crafted crap.

Yang: Visually stunning, mostly faithful adaptation that is generally hollow.

In-between: Dejah Thoris (Lynn Collins) in the original Barsoom series by Edgar Rice Burroughs was naked except for some fancy jewelry. This is a Disney production. Do the math.

So He-Man, Master of the Confederate States of America, goes to Mars, hooks up with this naked red Martian princess, fights big green four-armed Martians, giant white King Kongs, and.....zzzzzzzzzzzz......

There’s no way I should be able to describe a narrative with such fantastic elementsand feel so demoralized in doing so. Should there? But, that is exactly how I felt after leaving a screening for Disney’s latest stab at recapturing the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise formula, John Carter.

Carter is based on one of Tarzan author Edgar Rice Burroughs earliest pulp confections, the Barsoom series. The Barsoom series centers on Virginian John Carter, a former captain in Jefferson Davis’ Confederate army who, in his post-Civil War disillusionment, drifts to Arizona and discovers a wealth of strangely-marked gold in hidden cave. The cave itself happens to be waystation for a interplanetary highway that allows Carter to travel to the planet of Barsoom, also known as Mars. Once on Mars, Carter becomes embroiled in civil war between the humanoid red Martians and finds new purpose as a warlord, savior, and lover of buxom red Martian princess Dejah Thoris. Now, I’m no expert on the Barsoom series, but I do--at least from reading a few of Dynamite publishing’s comic adaptations--the basics and I know that 99% of the martians bop around the Red Planet in their birthday suits--especially Dejah Thoris--and some of the finest bling on this side of the Milky Way.

The fact that John Carter is a Disney production, helmed by Pixar pro Andrew Stanton who is directing his first live action feature, pretty much assures that there’s no nudity and, relatively, minimal gore--this is Disney after all. That is a little bit sad because somewhere there as porn director Aside from missing those major points, Stanton’s adaptation gets most of the basics right, but it absolutely drops the ball with tone, pacing, performances anything other element that may contribute to consistent entertainment value. John Carter is, in effect, the legendary piece of well-made crap that is often saved for Memorial Day weekend.

Carter is visually pretty stunning. Mars itself looks fairly impressive and tangible, and most of the creatures look slightly better than the average green screen creations, often showing more life than the human performers. Sadly, Carter falters on anything unrelated to visual effects. Tonally, Stanton and Disney try to have their cake and the guilt that comes after it. Parts of Carter are clearly designed to be lighthearted and pulpy while the majority of the ‘epic’ is sullen and heavy-handed, especially in its anti-war moments. This imbalance would be fine if Disney wasn’t positing this as some kind of serious epic, despite the fact that this is a movie about a guy dressed like He-Man saving Mars from evil monks. Worse than the uneven tone is the limp pacing. I understand taking time to establish character and atmosphere, but both are so thin that neither deserves the amount of time Stanton affords each development. This leads to serious drag in each act, enough to drag out the snores pretty early. With so much time devoted to setting up character and atmosphere, there is precious little time to develop the background of what is clearly a dense narrative, one that is desperately in need of establishing multiple motivations clearly. As a result, the feel of the world is better established than the specifics, which would help to clarify the multi-layered conflicts at the heart of the narrative.

The performances don’t help to strengthen the proceedings. Taylor Kitsch, who was never the most standout performer on Friday Night Lights--at least not compared to the rest of the cast--shows almost negative charisma as Carter. He can pose and pout for the camera, but emoting like a human being is almost out of the question. As the face of the flick’s audience surrogate, Kitsch needed to desperately turn up whatever reservoirs of personality he could access, and he just falls completely flat. Leading lady Lynn Collins doesn’t fare much better as a far more clothed Dejah Thoris, who, while assertive, is so cold that it is hard to see why Carter falls for her other than the fact that she seems to be the only reasonable attractive woman around. Dominic West is on hand as a self-serving warlord who follows the lead of evil monk, Maitai Shang, played by Mark Strong. Both are so classically evil and lack any notable shading or nuance to make them remotely accessible. Sadly, Strong and West, often superior performers, do little to enliven these characters. Even voice work by Willem Dafoe, Thomas Haden Church, and Samantha Morton, all as green martians, show little more life than glorified voiceovers that may have been equally tepid in a typical CGI animated release.

Between the generally soggy performances, the uneven tone, sluggish pacing and the general listlessness, John Carter to proves to be another stunning failed role of the dice for Disney in the epic franchise game. The latest ads are touting this as “from the studio that brought you Pirates of the Caribbean”, as if they’ve some how recaptured the magic that eluded them with Prince of Persia, Tron, and the latest Pirates movie. Disney fails to realize that what made the first Pirates, and its sequels to a lesser degree, successful was the quality of the story and the charming characters, not the spectacle.

Review - Winnie the Pooh

Grade: A-

Good: Charming characters are at the center of a brisk, loose story with some quality situational and character humor and a dash of heart.

Bad: Short run time; A bit unfocused and episodic

Ugly: The Backson.

A.A. Milne hated Winnie the Pooh. He blamed the good-natured, absent-minded, honey-addicted teddy bear for ruining his career and forcing him to a life of writing children’s books. How dreadful. Honestly, I can’t understand the hatred because Pooh and Piglet and Tigger and all their friends in the Hundred Acre Wood are terribly charming.

In another welcome return to traditional feature animation, the most recent since 2009’s The Princess and the Frog, Disney’s Winnie the Pooh is a wonderful slice of nostalgia that will probably track as a cute Toy Story knock-off despite coming first and offering its own fun spin on toys that come to life. Favoring character and situational laughs over and archetypes and sight gags, Pooh was clearly cast in the Pixar mold—definitely showing the influence of executive producer John Lassiter—which is never a bad thing. If anything, Pooh comes off as an indie version of an animated feature. Like its titular character, it moves at its own pace, but still proves brisk and consistently entertaining.

Pooh follows the Hundred Acre Wood gang—including Owl, Rabbit, Kanga and Roo—as they try to figure out what happened to the eternally depressed Eyeore’s missing tael (I mean tail) and rescue Christopher Robin from a mysterious menace. Along the way, the story takes a number of detours into vignettes based on three of Milne’s classic Pooh stories—"In Which Eeyore Loses a Tail and Pooh Finds One" and "In Which Piglet Meets a Heffalump" from Winnie the Pooh and "In Which Rabbit Has a Busy Day and We Learn What Christopher Robin Does in the Mornings" from the House at Pooh Corner—that reveal the character’s all-too human foibles, from Owl’s misguided arrogance to Rabbit’s crankiness and, of course, Tigger’s “bull in a china shop” exuberance. Despite the focus on eccentricities of the cast, Pooh eventually works its way back to the effortless interactions between this makeshift family and simple lessons on friendship.

Pooh is woefully short, clocking in at just over an hour and playing like an extended episode of the Saturday morning series from the 90s. Pooh is far more energetic than the trailers and commercials with the sappy, sad Keane song would lead potential audiences to believe. It’s episodic structure and swift pacing keep it from dragging (a true blessing to the parents with young children in the audience). Despite its length and pace, Pooh gives a good amount of attention to each of the inhabitants of he Hundred Acre Wood, even giving Christopher Robin more to do than take a casual stroll with his favorite golden bear.

Now, Pooh’s (voiced by the unfailing Jim Cummings) name may be in the title, but every character gets their time to shine. Pooh’s honey obsession is ever present, as usual, but his affable, laid-back nature and flashes of sharpness still make him the bear everybody wishes they had. Owl (voiced by Craig Ferguson) has a pretty significant role this time, grabbing more screen than favorites Tigger and Piglet, and his pretentious loquaciousness and overbearing confidence make for some of the movie’s better laughs. That doesn’t mean the others don’t make a mark; it’s just surprising to see Owl play such a significant role.

As strong as Pooh is in terms of character and plot, visually it is equally as successful. Disney animators have taken the simplicity of the older Pooh cartoons and polished the animation to near perfection here, even including the classic interactions between the characters and the storybook text. Aside from a few mildly lavish, but still inventive, musical numbers with some snazzy CGI, nothing is over-designed or unnecessarily glamorized. The Hundred Acre Wood is a simple place and neither it nor its inhabitants need to be overly impressive. Pooh lives and dies by its ability to create a simple world where mildly complex personalities come together to realize uncomplicated truths about friendship and family. Thanks to the animators and writers, Pooh achieves that elegant tone visually and textually.

Winnie the Pooh is perfect for parents looking to briefly divert their children’s attention from outdoor activities. However, just because it’s a diversion, doesn’t mean it’s not worthy of attention. The humor is consistent and is just as likely to grab laughs from the adults as it from kids. The short length is as much a benefit as a drawback, as maybe ten more minutes would make room for perennially underserved characters like Kanga and Roo to do more than make a few timely quips. Also, the episodic nature can make the movie seem a tad unfocused, but, all in all, Winnie the Pooh is a fine way to spend an hour. There’s even a quaint animated short, The Ballad of Nessie, at the beginning about the Loch Ness Monster that falls just short of the superior Pixar shorts. As a lapsed fan Pooh’s adventures, I am proud to recommend this gem, which hopefully won’t be overlooked in the wake of the end of all things wizardry.

Review - Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides

Grade: A (for Pirates fans) B (for everyone else)

The Good: Capt. Jack and his wily antics (as always); intriguingly complex plotting with some relatively challenging issues at heart; Expands Pirate-verse with trademark charm and intrigue.

The Bad: Complex to the point of complication; Cruz and McShane are a tad overhyped and nowhere near as interesting as original cast members. Murky pallete+3D glasses make some action tough to see

The Ugly: The price of a ticket to see this in IMAX 3D (no matter how much it’s worth it).

There’s one consistent truth to Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean movies. Johnny Depp’s Jack Sparrow—excuse me, Captain—is unquestionably the star, but the stories never truly belong to him. Capt. Jack is a scene-stealer, for sure, and the character generations will remember when they think of Pirates of the Caribbean, but even relieved of the Turner-Swan saga, Jack still hasn’t completely taken center stage.

That’s not a bad thing. Captain Jack prancing through the proceedings as a devil-may-care, sharper-than-he-looks trickster may keep him from being the chief protagonist of the Pirates films, but it allows these blockbusters to engage in complex—some may say complicated—storytelling with charismatic characters whose conflicting motivations reveal more depth than most movies like this ever dare to.

On Stranger Tides, based on Tim Powers 1987 novel of the same name, follows Capt. Jack as he is forced by a piggish King George (a goofy cameo by occasional Depp costar Richard Griffiths) to lead perennial rival, and newly minted privateer, Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush) to Ponce de Leon’s legendary fountain of youth, which our wily anti-hero had his sights set on at the end of the first trilogy. Along the way, Jack runs afoul of old friends—including steadfast first mate Joshamee Gibbs (Kevin McNally)—and new frenemies like the duplicitous Angelica (Penelope Cruz), daughter of a fairly unknown pirate, Edward Teach, who goes by the nickname Blackbeard (Ian McShane). Cajoled into serving on Blackbeard’s living ship, the Queen Anne’s Revenge, Capt. Jack must outwit all sides to reach the fountain before his multiple enemies allies do. Also charting a course to fountain of youth are agents of Spain’s King Ferdinand VI, who have their own agenda for the source of the mystical aqua de vida.

Johnny Depp brings Capt. Jack alive as only he can after a few years away from the character. This time, Jack is a bit more subdued, but no less crafty. The Pirates movies have gotten less and less lighthearted and humorous as they increase in complexity and ambition, but Capt. Jack continues to make audiences snicker with his sly subversive digs and observations. The good captain may not be as riotous as he was in the initial installment, but audiences can still count on Depp to deliver a winking performance that’s rife with mischievous charm. Geoffrey Rush continues to prove himself Depp’s perfect foil. Ever eloquent and consistently cunning, Rush’s Barbossa nurses some new wounds that make him even more dangerous. Rush rises to the challenge—as if there was any doubt—by balancing Barbossa’s trademark civility with a simmering anger.

New to the Pirates-verse are Penelope Cruz’s Angelica and Ian McShane’s Blackbeard, who are truly the engines of this story. Their quest for the fountain is driven as much by their connection to each other as it is by deeper issues of fate and redemption (yes, these concerns really do surface in Pirates movie, again). Cruz plays Angelica as a slightly feistier version of most female characters who cross paths with Capt. Jack. She’d be in love with him if she didn’t want to smack and/or kill him. As such, she barely registers as significantly different from Kiera Knightley’s Elizabeth Swan and Angelica’s journey is not likely to endear her with fans of Mr. Sparrow. McShane’s Blackbeard brings his silver-tongued menace to the table as the merciless pirate, who may or may not be particularly interested in redeeming his soul before a prophesy that will claim his life comes to pass. Essentially, he’s just playing Al Swearengen in the Age of Discovery. The fact that Blackbeard is so detached from characters who aren’t Angelica makes him a cold, but not a particularly engaged threat on the level of Barbossa or even Davy Jones, who both had a personal stake in challenging Capt. Jack.

Director Rob Marshall does a fine job of aping the visual template Gore Verbinski laid forth in the first trilogy. The world of Stranger Tides is visually on par with the later films, particularly Dead Man’s Chest, albeit darker and earthier. The darker palette makes a few of the elaborate action scenes a bit murky, but this is as much a visual issue as a problem with watching the flick through 3D glasses. Marshall also shows a deft hand at Pirates’ kitchen sink approach to the supernatural. In Stranger Tides, Jack and his compatriots encounter more than a few “beasties”, from zombified pirate slaves—again—to mermaids and magical ships. As usual, the supernatural aspect is never obnoxious or overplayed. Thanks to some exceptional work by ILM and the practical makeup teams, the creatures, especially the mermaids, don’t look as cartoonish as Davy Jones’ barnacled crewmen. But, the most impressive thing Marshall does—and I believe a lion’s share of the credit here goes to Pirates’ screenwriters Ted Elliott and Terry Russo—is graft some significant layering to the story.

Essentially, Stranger Tides is a fetch quest, as most fantasy/action/sci-fi flicks are these days. However, the character’s reasons for pursuing the fountain are rooted in some fairly challenging issues. Questions of faith are raised by the presence of not only the Spanish Catholics, but by missionary Phillip (Sam Claflin), a prisoner of Blackbeard and another would-be successor to the Will Turner spot. Phillip may seem to only be around as an extra piece of eye candy and half of a romantic subplot, but he, much like the Spanish, represents the presence of organized religion and monotheistic faith in a world of magic and superstition. The conflict between the two worlds is something that, with more time, could prove very intriguing for this film series. Questions of redemption and family responsibility, present in Dead Man’s Chest and World’s End, resurface and form the crux of the Angelica-Blackbeard arc, in a sinister twist on the William-Bootstrap plotline. All in all, Stranger Tides continues the trend of the last two Pirates movie by daring to be complex at the risk of losing its audience.

Folks who were exasperated by the intrigue and dueling machinations of World’s End and Dead Man’s Chest may be miffed at the maneuvering in Stranger Tides, which is significantly lesser than in other Pirates movies. Thankfully, the pacing is smooth—moving from action packed set-piece to exposition with ample balance—and should retain most viewers’ attention for the length of its two and a half hour runtime (fans should of course hang back at the end for the after-the–credits stinger). For those who weren’t fans of the last two, Stranger Tides won’t change any minds, but it does offer a more streamlined approach with less mythology and characters to follow. For those who love Pirates or want to see a fantasy that delivers a great balance of action, character and slightly complex storytelling, Pirates is as perfect as it ever was. So, go ahead…follow that horizon. It’s worth it...mostly.

Movie Review - Up

Describing Disney/Pixar’s Up as uplifting would not only be cliché but a terrible understatement. Up is one of the most moving films I have ever seen. In Up, we meet Carl Fredricksen, a seemingly cantankerous old coot with the proverbial heart-of-gold, who embarks on wondrous journey using his house as a makeshift airship. Carl is joined on his journey by chubby young eager beaver wilderness boy scout, Russell. Together, Carl and Russell fly by balloon hoisted house to the beautiful and mysterious Paradise Falls in South America, where misadventure awaits.


Up, directed by Pete Docter, is an amazing piece of storytelling with true heart that toes the line of being a manipulative tearjerker then steps away from that line with its dignity in tact. One of Up’s greatest strengths is its development of the character’s motivations. Up develops character motivation simply and powerfully through quiet poignant moments that eschew overbearing dialogue or melodramatics. If you are not moved by the two dialogue-less scenes—used a bit more effectively than in Wall*E—between Carl and his wife then you might not have a soul. The motivations of each character are so clear and logical that every setup and payoff is completely worth it. For instance, late in the film, when Carl makes a choice between his traveling companions and his goal, the audience understands exactly why he made this decision because of the exquisite storytelling that preceded it.


The effectiveness of Up’s storytelling, penned by co-director Bob Petersen, is echoed in its seamless movement from a humorous rousing adventure to a reflective poignant study of loss and back again. You know those films the advertisers say will make you laugh, cry, and jump, this is one that truly earned that distinction. The humor is reverent, intelligent, and aware. Some of the funniest bits in the film come from the interactions between the absurd, i.e. dogs talking with human language translator collars, and the human, i.e. Carl’s grouchiness or Russell’s buoyancy. The action, as seen in amazing set pieces with airships, flying houses, talking dogs, is imaginative and fast-paced. The quiet moments hit notes that seem manipulative in trying to elicit emotion from the audience, but are so simply executed and anti-schmaltz that you can’t help but be moved. I’ll be honest, I will have a hard time watching this one again and keeping the cry bump in my throat.


Not to be neglected are the amazing vocal performances that only help to elevate the material, particularly Ed Asner’s star turn as Carl. Asner adds just the right amount of sadness, grit, and warmth to Carl to create a character with more depth than some of even Pixar’s most memorable heroes. Speaking of Pixar’s other endeavors, this film continues Pixar’s trend of creating fantastic, colorful worlds that are absolute marvels of computer generated animation. The lush South American jungle that surrounds Paradise Falls is filled with textures and colors that are so subtly palpable that you could truly be fooled into believing its real, if only for a second. Of note also, are the unique character designs, particularly the geometrically rigid Carl who is all squares and 90-degree angles contrasting against the egg-shaped Russell(by the way, kudos to Disney for casting an Asian pre-teen and a senior citizens as it heroes. It’s always great to see progress, especially in films that might reach impressionable minds.).


Up is a gorgeous, moving film that continues Pixar’s tradition of spirited films that powerfully blend humanity and wonder. The kids will love the adventure and the humor, but the adults will be truly, deeply moved by the humanity of the characters and power of their motivations.