Review - Savages

Grade: A-

Short of the Avengers and a few expected (Madagascar) and unexpected (Ted and Magic Mike) successes , this summer has, so far, been depressingly disappointing. In fact, you know things are bad when A-list auteurs of the 70s, 80s, and 90s like Ridley Scott and Oliver Stone are dropping flicks in the middle of summer, when, by all rights, they should be releasing prestige films in October or November. Sadder still is the experience of watching these directors being forced to claw their way into to relevance for an audience, myself included, that was likely to young to remember when each was at their peak. While this has been particularly agonizing to watch in Scott's case, with his alternately praised and maligned Prometheus, Stone turns the table and offers a far more pleasing experience with Savages, a simple tale of love, entrepreneurship in America, and the threat of globalization. Oh, and it's about weed, vicious drug cartels, and the sublime pleasure of watching trust fund stoners and Bush-era war vets raised on Call of Duty and computer hacking fight back against those cartels with more brains than brawn.

Savages centers around SoCal kush kings and lifelong friends, Ben (Aaron Johnson, almost completely unrecognizable from his role as vigilante punching bag Kick Ass) and Chon (Taylor Kitsch, utilized far more effectively here than in his previous outings this year), and the love of their life, disaffected shopgirl, Ophelia (Blake Lively). Between weed-addled trysts with Ophelia, together and individually, Ben and Chon manage to run a marijuana empire that sells the finest bud, 33% THC content to be exact, in the world, thanks to college boy Ben's experience as a Business-Botany double major at Berkeley and former enlisted man Chon's access to Afghani marijuana seeds during his deployment in Afghanistan.Within their relatively illicit enterprise, Chon is the muscle, enforcing deals that must be handled with a particularly hard-nosed delicateness, and Ben is the face, spending more time utilizing profits to philanthropic means by building schools in developing countries than growing or brokering deals. When confronted by an expanding north Mexican cartel, led Elena Lorena (Salam Hayek, wonderfully over-the-top but with greater nuance than Charlize Theron's performance in June's Snow White), Ben and Chon are faced with turning control of their empire to the "Wal-mart" of grass distribution. As any independent, successful businessman would do, they turn down the offer, which sets off a chain of events that leads to Ophelia's capture by Elena's duplicitious, decapitation happy enforcer, Lado (a slimier than usual Benicio Del Toro). To save Ophelia, Ben must eschew the Buddhist leanings that have guided his life and business and embrace the ugly practicality of Chon's more physical approach while learning why takeovers are rarely anything less than hostile.

Stone dials back his typical stylistic indulgences, mostly, to make Savages a pretty straightforward adaption of Don Winslow's, who wrote the screenplay, 2010 novel. Stone does an especially solid job of using Winslow's script to craft a flick that is reminiscent of the Tarantino-esque crime films that dominated the late 90s--which, as a show of my age, I'll admit to being partial to--without delving into the parody or shameless aping of Tarantino's style, which a director of Stone's ilk should never have to do. One thing that Stone understands is the one thing that makes Savages work and other "hip" crime dramas fail is that Stone and Winslow allow the characters to remain generally smart, relying on brains over brawn, generally. One of the central conceits of Savages is that Ben and Chon are clearly outgunned by the cartel, but they have resources that are equal to, if not greater than, the cartel's, which they use in a way that prevents them from generally diving into the kind of two-man army assault that would have likely got them killed. When the two turn the tables on one of the cartel's higher-ups, it is so simple and smart that one can't help but be impressed, right up until the consequences of their actions becomes painfully tangible. Stone and Winslow don't play coy with the consequence angle either; it is very clear that, no matter how clean Ben and Chon have tried to make their business, it is an inherently dirty business, at least until the fed finally legalizes Mary Jane.

Savages is hoisted near greatness not only by the work behind the camera but by some solid performances from some unusual suspects. Aaron Johnson, in particular, shines as Ben, playing him as an earthy peacenik with just the right balance of naiveté, melancholy, and optimism. Taylor Kitsch is finally used properly as a member of an ensemble rather than the main attraction, revealing the same shell shocked sadness that marked his work on Friday Night Lights. John Travolta, as a DEA agent who keeps Ben and Chon out of cuffs, relies on his trademarked wacky mania, which would seem out of place if it wasn't such a clear complement to Del Toro and Hayek's own brand of controlled insanity. In fact, Del Toro almost deserves an MVP trophy for playing his slimy executioner with such dynamism that you're not sure whether to laugh at him or cringe when he's on screen. Blake Lively is...Blake Lively. Nothing about her character is significantly likable or engaging--she's effectively a human MacGuffin--and her performance doesn't do much to change that opinion, but I wonder if that wasn't the point. Maybe her character, and her performance, were meant to evoke the sense of an aimless, possibly worthless empty vessel. If so, she knocked it out the part; if not, she'll likely be in another similar role very soon.

All in all, Savages really shows that Stone, despite a run of missteps, steal has more than enough juice left in the tank to crank out a near-classic. Granted, the flick is steeped in late 90s crime movie tropes, so expect gratuitous sex and violence to a degree not seen in the increasingly sanitized world of mainstream film. Also, some of Savages' more direct stabs at humor fall a bit flat, but overall, this is a real return to form for Stone and a solidly engaging experience. If anything, it is a far better R-rated flick from an A-list autuer than Prometheus.

Yin and Yang of it:

Yang: Sharp direction, smart plotting, and solid performances elevate already great source material. 

Yin: May be a bit violent and explicit for those who were not raised on real R-rated movies; Blake Lively; Humor occasionally misses the mark

In Between: There has to be a cut of this movie where Ben calls Hit-Girl for some help with this pesky cartel.

Review - Battleship

Grade: C-

So, imitating Michael Bay is a thing now?

I was always under the impression that, despite Bay’s success, no director would ever want to consciously ape Bay’s signature style, with the exception of Tony Scott and Dominic Sena of Gone in 60 Seconds fame. 

Peter Berg apparently doesn’t share that perspective.

Berg’s Battleship is a ham-fisted hodge-podge of the worst Bayisms committed to film, particularly those culled from Transformers--obviously--and Pearl Harbor. Battleship follows the meteoric rise of slacker-turned-seamen Alex Hopper (Taylor Kitsch) who was shotgun enlisted into the Navy by his big brother, Stone (Alexander Skarsgard), after raising the ire of the Hawaiian police during an attempt to impress the attractive, vapid Sam (Brooklyn Decker), who just happens to be the daughter of a Navy admiral (Liam Neeson). At the same time Alex was courting Sam by burgling burritos from the local Circle K, a pair of NASA researchers (Hamish Linklater and Adam Godley) discovered a new planet mere light years away that could possibly sustain human life. In the absence of a credible deep space exploration program, the boys at NASA decide to send a homing beacon to the planet. What could go wrong? One year later, Alex is a lieutenant, preparing to participate in annual Naval war games off the coast of Oahu while NASA’s Oahu signal relay station finally gets a response from their signal to Earth-2. Within hours, a small squad of Cybertronian aircraft makes its way to Earth-1 and begins transforming and wreaking havoc across the planet with weapons that look vaguely like the red pegs from the original tabletop Battleship game. Three of the crafts plop down in the Pacific, right in the middle of the RIMPAC challenge between Alex and Stone’s fleets and a Japanese fleet lead by Hopper’s noble rival, Captain Nagata (Tadanobu Asano). Faced with the Go-Bots advance team, Hopper and a crew of misfits must do all they can to stop the transforming menace before it claims Earth or raises the ire of the Autobots, whichever comes first.

From the sun-drenched palette to the ridiculous slow-mo and 360 shots to the garish infatuation with military personnel and hardware, every element of Battleship is ripped, part and parcel, from Michael Bay’s imagination. The aliens are Transformers, no way around it. The only difference is that these Transformers are manned by pilots decked out in Master Chief armor. The cast is a conglomeration of diverse cut-outs that include a music star (Rihanna in a decent turn that produces the best line of the movie), a disabled vet who won’t be conquered by his injury (Gregory D. Gadson), and a cadre of real-life veterans. Kitsch’s Hopper is practically Armageddon’s A.J. Frost with a hint of Tim Riggins. Brooklyn Decker is Rosie Huntington-Whiteley’s Carly from Dark of the Movie. I could go on, but I’d be forced to take a shot for every character from Battleship that matches a character from a Bay movie. 

Berg not only rips Bay’s palette and casting strategy, he manages to snatch Bay’s simplistic approach plotting, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing in the hands of the write director, and makes a plot that’s less sensical than Revenge of the Fallen. For instance, the aliens come to conquer earth but leave the entirety of their fleet in deep space, waiting for the advance squad to activate NASA’s homing beacon. Somehow, the an army of Chitauri movie made the leap in the Avengers, but these guys, with their transforming spaceships, couldn’t do the same? 

Battleship is, indeed, a senseless, shameful knockoff of the Transformers franchise and Michael Bay’s vision, but it’s so similar to those films that any fan of Transformers and the rest of Bay’s oeuvre will be at least mildly entertained, as long as they don’t apply any amount of thought to the proceedings. At its best, Battleship is adequately-made crap--a loud, dumb experience filled with explosions, which is exactly what is to be expected of such a typical summer tentpole. Then again, what more should have been expected of an summer tentpole that turns a tabletop guessing game into an alien invasion flick with Transformers.

Yin, Yang and In-Between:

Yin: Big, loud and dumb, just like the Michael Bay movies it is ripping off.

Yang: Loud, simple, and filled with explosions and transforming robots, just like Michael Bay’s hit Transformers movies.

In-between: Turtle (Jerry Ferrara) has now been in two more mainstream movies than Vinnie Chase. Ari, do your job, man.

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.