Martha Marcy May Marlene

A forgotten film, but I've never forgotten it, and I doubt anyone who's seen it has forgotten it. Long before her "Scarlet Witch" days, it marked the "break out" role of Elizabeth Olsen.

 

Written at the time of the film's release.

Cult Film
or
"Freedom's Just Another Word for Nothing Left to Lose"

Martha Marcy May Marlene has gotten a lot of press, mostly for the starring performance of the non-twin Olsen sister, Elizabeth (she really is quite good in it, her film debut), but the film has a lot to show besides being fodder for the tabloids. A slowly unfolding paranoid thriller, the first feature of writer-director Sean Durkin, you wonder exactly where it's going and where it's leading—if anywhere.

It keeps you guessing—the very same predicament of almost every character in the film. The film opens on an idyllic farm community...commune, more appropriately...in the Catskills, as the members busy themselves, mending fences, tending crops, while the children meander. Bucolic, it looks. Slightly rustic and hippieish, it feels. Then, at dinner-time, the women wait in the kitchen while the men eat...first...and they only eat when they've had their fill. Slightly odd, slightly misogynistic, but one gets the impression that it's a male-centered, maybe religious community, just the slightest sense of unease.

It's how Durkin operates. No one comes right out and says anything. Characters don't come out and say "This is this and that is that." We, the audience are allowed to observe and ponder—to notice when things turn slightly askew and, in the time-compressed world of the movies that happens fairly quickly, but at a slower pace than most mainstream movies. Like the happenstances of those of the film, things go along normally until it suddenly dawns on us—something's wrong here.

Early on, Marcy May (Elizabeth Olsen) awakens at night, and softly skulks out of the main house, where the women all sleep in one room. She goes out the front door, and we notice one of the women is awake and watching her from inside.  Marcy walks across the lawn to the street separating their farm from the woods...and then, she breaks into a run, mad, desperate and hides amidst the collapsed trunks of dead trees while the house empties of men and women who run through the woods, looking for her. It's as creepy as a zombie movie.

Eventually, she makes it to a telephone, where, crying, desperate, she calls a woman who is amazed to at the call. She hasn't heard from her for two years.  "Tell me where you are and I'll come get you right now." And soon, an SUV pulls up. A woman gets out. And Marcy May...or Martha, as the woman calls her...collapses in her arms.

It's Martha's sister, Lucy (Sarah Paulson) who's found her, and who asks questions, but gets no answers. Where's Martha been? Where'd she go? Is she alright? What happened? Why didn't she try to contact her before? Martha hems and haws and says something about a cheating boyfriend, but never goes into detail. And nothing is pressed. Martha sleeps. Lucy and her husband Ted (Hugh Dancy) pad softly around their posh lake-house, trying to make Martha at home, but also wondering why she's acting so diffidently, cluelessly, not revealing much.

It causes a strain in Lucy and Ted's domestic bliss—they want to have a family, but a well-ordered one (good luck with that, kids!) and Martha is a square peg in their round lifestyle. What's got into her, anyway? She skinny-dips in the lake (ferchrist'ssake!) with all the neighbors around (and I'm sure there's a covenant against that!), wears the same worn jean shorts and shirt from her escape day after day, cleans incessantly, doesn't try to find a job, and seems to be constantly wrestling with the "fight-or-flight" instinct.

They don't know about the flash-backs. Durkin builds the story of Marcy May's life, while at the same time showing the breakdown of her time with her sister.  Early on, we're given the sense that there's some push me-pull you occurring: the farm has an odd, creepy malevolence to it—there's a sense of freedom there, of good leftist values, all macrobiotic and natural with shared living spaces, shared clothes and a general lack of possessiveness. It contrasts sharply with Lucy and Ted's tight-ass lifestyle, neat as a pin and dead as a door-nail. You start to compare and contrast—where would Martha (or Marcy May) be better off? Where is freedom, that is "real" freedom, to be oneself, in either world that Martha (or Marcy May) has inhabited? That's the first 30 minutes or so of the film.

 

And then, things turn ugly.

And very interesting, much to the presence of newly ubiquitous utility-character-actor John Hawkes (who has developed a habit of subtly inhabiting roles of such wide range with such economy that I'm starting to think he's in a class by himself in the acting field). As Patrick, the pater-too-familias of the commune, he projects a creepy sense of calm manipulation that as the movie goes further turns dark and menacing. It's not in the manner, but in the words, which Hawkes sells in the same calm talk, that in the worst of times turns into icy silences. Hawkes is just plain Good, whether he's playing good or bad.

I recommend this one. It's subtle, tense and troubling with no easy answers and the momentum of water circling in a drain to an inevitable conclusion (which we never see) that we know is coming. It's occasionally raw and as comforting as sandpaper. It's not for the complacent movie-goer, but it's a damn interesting film (not only in the skewering of thriller cliches but also in the subtle points its trying to make) and an even more impressive debut, not only for Ms. Olsen, but also for its writer-director.

Dr. Strange and the Multiverse of Madness

The Mother of All Evil

or

Night of the Walking Stranges

 

Dr. Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) is not having a good night. In another of those loopy dimensions he goes into every so often that tumble and disorient you, he is trying to get to a mysterious glowing pedestal that will solve all of their problems. 

 

They? Yeah, he has with him a 'tween (Xochitl Gomez) in a star-patched jeans jacket, who supposedly has powers but currently is just having issues keeping her feet. They are being pursued by some "thing" or other (standard Marvel description: "it sure is BIG!") and Strange is hanging on by his pony-tail (he has a pony-tail?) in the fight and makes the decision to sacrifice the kid's powers in order to tray and get them out of it. Woops, bad move. It doesn't work and Strange is killed and the kid gets thrown into another Universe and it looks like the movie, Dr. Strange and the Multiverse of Madness, is over before it even gets started.

 

Damn "in media res," anyway! 

No, sorry. It was all just a terrible dream. Yeah. He's a wizard. They don't just have "dreams." Something's going on, and it's not until the good doctor attends the wedding of former flame Dr. Christine Palmer (Rachel McAdams), which is a real nightmare for him, that he begins to think there might be something more to this. Christine cuts him down a peg or two by telling him "You always have to be the one with the knife" (which will have some significance later on), and then the reception is crashed by a one-eyed octopus causing a ruckus out in the streets of NYC.

Strange and the Earth's Sorcerer Supreme Wong (Benedict Wong) do battle with the thing and dang if the focus of cycloptopus is the 'tween in a star-patched jeans jacket whose name is America Chavez—this creates a synaptic issue whenever someone says "We've got to save America" and I think we're about to see some canvassing of neighborhoods. A post-octopicide talk with America reveals that she's from another part of the multi-verse, another dimensional version of our space-time, and her super-power is that she can travel between those dimensions, with, she confesses, little control about where she ends up—GPS being on the fritz or something. Strange deja vu's that this was the kid from his dream and they find the body of the other-dimensional Strange and the strange doctor concludes that "dreams are merely windows into our multi-versal selves." Before they can question whether that has been peer-reviewed, they discover markings on the calamari shards of the creature, which are recognized as rune markings and Strange decides to visit another Marvel mage, Wanda Maximus (Elizabeth Olsen), former Avenger, who has been going through her own crises on "Wandavision."

At this point, the exposition should stop or it'll turn as spoilery as Strange's spell in Spider-man: No Way Home. Leave it that things get complicated and that the opening to other Earths and other existences provide motivations, certainly to issues that remain unresolved, and complications. To its credit, the movie does a good enough job of expositioning that you don't feel you HAVE to have seen "Wandavision" or subscribe to Disney+. We get to meet a couple of other distinctive Strange's, another Wanda, a planet that has their own sort of Avengers called The Illuminati (which contains some giddiness-inducing fan-service of what comprises that group and who they are portrayed by—just don't get attached), and there's a marvelously done scene—reminiscent of Spider-man: Into the Spider-verse—that has Strange and America portaling through meta-verse after meta-verse that is marvelously creative for the 45 seconds or so that it lasts.

The best thing about the movie, though, is that director Sam Raimi is back. No, he didn't do the first one— did that—but Raimi did the first three live-action Spider-man movies and basically wrote the template for the Marvel movies, which they would do well to study if they want to make films of innovation and energy. 

It's apparent very early in the film that his style is missed—his movies, be they action or horror, always had a delirious edge to them that would invoke responses of either horror or humor, a cinematic glee embedded in their mise en scène and montage. It's an added zhuzh to the proceedings, just a propulsive nudge with a wink, a comedic snap, that other Marvel movies just don't have. It's at once an acknowledgment of the goofiness behind the super-hero concept (and that we should take it SO seriously), while also trying to push the peril and make it visceral (so that we DO take it seriously).

It's a hold-over from Raimi's origins in horror (as is a cameo from Bruce Campbell!) where the purpose is to make the "horrible" entertaining, but not so entertaining that you dismiss the darkness and the threat that the film-maker means to describe. You can have the "giggle", but it's better that you have it after a jolt, the directorial "gotcha" rewarded by the communal admission that the audience is vulnerable ("yeah I'm only human—you got me") and can be won over. 

Every movie—every theater-piece—is like that. It's a battle to win over the audience. And one can do that either by playing it safe with fan-service (and this movie is guilty of that, certainly) or by challenging—not placating—the audience in order to win its respect. Raimi is still very much of that old school (oh, he'd hate that term!) and after his box-office disappointments with Spider-Man 3 and Oz The Great and Powerful, he hasn't had a feature film made and released for 9 years. And as much as I trashed those movies, I have to say, it's good to have him back.

For all the plot contrivances, and the attempts to gin up emotional drama, DrS&MOM (oh, that's funny...) is a good ride where you don't think about those things while you're being manipulated so well. It helps that Elizabeth Olsen is a scary-good actor and that there's a good cast of great thesp's lending support all along the way.

 

It's a big improvement over the first one.

"Eyes will pop out of your brain...when you're Strange"

Captain America: Civil War

"Avengers, Dis-assemble!"
or
Marvel Presents this Captain America Movie, (Interrupted by this Avengers Movie), Interrupted by this Spider-Man Preview

Captain America: Civil War is interesting. It's very enjoyable—in fact I'd be willing to say that this completes the best superhero trilogy ever, surpassing Chris Nolan's "Dark Knight" Batman movies. But, man, some things really bug me. 

Uppermost, is the feeling I wasn't watching a movie at all, with a lot of stirring-up going on with few consequences, some conceits that seem VERY convenient for story-telling purposes, and the feeling that this was more of a demonstration film than an actual building block in the continuing story of...anybody. It is one more Marvel Universe sequel that feels like it shouldn't have been made, as, ultimately, nothing of real import happens...except for deal-making in the background—the movie-makers needed product, they front-loaded it with a lot of stars and went to a lot of trouble, but nothing in the story gets resolved. Watching a Marvel movie is beginning to feel like watching "The X-files," with the empty promise of "Yeah, but wait'll NEXT time..." 

Thanks, but where's my $10.00? ($14.00 for 3-D).

The movie does not follow the Marvel series of stories except in title and barest of essentials. After a short set-up marked "1991" (in huge numbers that crowd out anything else) set in a frozen waste that serves as Hydra Headquarters—it's either Hydra or 'SPECTRE' considering the octopus logo—in which "Bucky" Barnes' brainwashed Winter Soldier is sent on a fore-shadow mission, we find members of the Avengers (Captain America, Black Widow, Scarlet Witch and Falcon) in civvies, investigating an "Institute for Infectious Diseases" in LAGOS (in huge letters that crowd everything out), that soon comes under terrorist attack. They go into action—the first of the scheduled three action brawls that have become the norm in the Marvel Universe—and due to the actions of "Crossbones" (formerly a particularly loathsome member of SHIELD under Robert Redford's oversight), a titanic explosion occurs that causes much damage and kills quite a few civilians.

Oopsy.

"Never mind what I did, what about you guys?"

Given the fall-out of that mission, the Avengers are called to meet with the Secretary of State, the former General Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross (William Hurt), not seen since the last "Hulk" movie (when Hulk was Edward Norton and not Mark Ruffalo), who castigates the group for the collateral damage caused in NEW YORK (The Avengers), WASHINGTON D.C. (Captain America: Winter Soldier) SOKOVIA (The Avengers: Age of Ultron)—but quite forgetting the damage that HE caused at Culver University and in Harlem during The Incredible Hulk (politicians LOVE to cherry-pick), and telling the team they are in desperate need of government oversight (given how well that all worked out under SHIELD—Have they rebuilt the Watergate yet?). 

The alternative to signing the United Nations' so-called Sokovia Accord is retirement (which would have been MY pick with a snide "YOU work out all the disasters from terrorists, your OWN organizations, and other dimensions, and, by the way, say "Hello" to Thanos for me, Jarhead! See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya!"). 

At the table, Rhodey, Natasha, Rogers, Wilson, Vision, and Scarlet Witch
with Stark hanging back (in case any readers are lost)

The group is divided: Steve "Captain America" Rogers is suspicious: "(The U.N.) is run by people with agendas. And agendas change" and Falcon, Scarlet Witch, and a retired Hawkeye refuse to sign. Nobody likes it, really, but, Tony Stark makes a case for it...lest The Avengers get shut down (wait a minute, wasn't HE the one trying to replace The Avengers in Age of Ultron? Can anyone keep track of Tony Stark's mood-swings? Like, maybe, the writers?). Cap won't sign despite Natasha (Black Widow), Rhodey (War Machine), Vision (the former Jarvis, Tony Stark's version of "Siri") regretfully siding with Stark. Cap walks out of the meeting, abstaining.

While Cap is attending the funeral of old girlfriend (from World War II) Peggy Carter, who has passed away, things come to a head in VIENNA (in huge letters that crowd out anything else) at the UN signing of the Sokovia Accord, when the building is attacked by a car-bomb, and evidence points to The Winter Soldier—Cap's brainwashed pal "Bucky" Barnes—as being the culprit. Why "Bucky," with his skills-set, would employ a car-bomb to do the job no one wonders, but Cap (being Cap) goes to BUCHAREST (you already know...) looking for his buddy, suspecting that he was set up. Of course, he finds him quickly, and the two hash out that the whole thing stinks, right before German counter-terrorist forces (in Bucharest?) bust in, Bucky escapes and Cap and Falcon give chase. Mixed in with the chase is another hero "The Black Panther," who is actually T'Challa (played by Chadwick Boseman, and he's terrific, as he was in 42 and Get On Up), the son of the slain King of Wakanda, killed in the VIENNA explosion.

Falcon (Sam Wilson), Cap (Steve Rogers) and the Black Panther (King T'Challa)
under arrest—are you keeping up?

Cap, Bucky, Falcon, and the Panther all get arrested when things come to a draw, with the Winter Soldier being trussed up in an unbreakable restraint—because those always work SO well in these movies—and shipped to BERLIN. Cap has his shield taken away and The Falcon's wings are clipped. "They are, after all, government property," says Natasha. "That's cold!" says Falcon. "Warmer than a jail-cell," shoots back Tony. Stark tries one last time to persuade Rogers to sign the Accord, rendered somewhat moot by the attack in VIENNA, but Cap isn't having any of it, especially when he finds out that Tony has the Scarlet Witch being held a virtual (heh) prisoner by The Vision back at Avengers HQ. "Sometimes I just want to punch you in those perfect teeth," persuades Tony. Somebody explain to me why HE's in charge of The Avengers?

This trick never works...

While Bucky is being interviewed by a Dr. Zemo (Daniel Brühl), the facility (which appears to be run by Martin Freeman because he's in EVERYTHING) is attacked by a pulse weapon that knocks out the power to the facility. And because the place is super-high tech to hold super-powered villains and things, there's no back-up generator that can kick in, or anti-pulse shield that can protect it. Zemo is the guy behind it all, apparently, and he has an amazing facility for finding out the secrets to the Avengers, Hydra, and every other organization's defenses (which is never explained), while our own spy agencies can't figure anything out...like putting up back-up generators in the budget.

Natasha thinks: "We have ENOUGH super-heroes. What is Sharon "Agent 13"
Carter doing here?" I wonder that myself.

While the lights are out and the security cameras down, Zemo gives Bucky the secret Russian code-words* to turn him into an unthinking killing machine, and he breaks out of his restraining cell (told ya!), Zemo makes his escape, but a freed Bucky starts smashing his way out of the place, taking out one Avenger after the other until Rogers and Wilson take him down, and find their own way of restraining him that seems to work a little better. Bucky reveals that Zemo is on his way to SIBERIA to the secret Hydra base that produced him to resurrect five other winter soldiers—just like him, but meaner. Cap determines that they need to come up with a team to get to SIBERIA, but first they have to get out of the country. That country being GERMANY.

Back in the U.S., the Scarlet Witch escapes from her attentive little android Vision with the intervention of Hawkeye (recruited by Cap), but it's the Witch that manages to overcome Vision by dropping him through several miles of the Earth's crust. She is clearly the most powerful member of The Avengers, so what is she doing as an after-thought in a Captain America movie. Along with the Scarlet Witch, Hawkeye brings along Ant-Man, reformed thief Scott Lang, at the suggestion of Wilson. Lang is eager to please and clearly has a case of Captain America hero-worship.

More incongruously, Tony shows up at the QUEENS home of Aunt May Parker (who, all of a sudden, is Marisa Tomei, who in no way shape or form, resembles the frail elderly Aunt May of the comics.) Tony's there to talk to May's nephew Peter (now Tom Holland) about a grant from his Stark Foundation (but, in reality, he has somehow heard about the "Spider-kid" flitting around New York and being Stark, tracks him down and verbally jousts with him, and offers him an "upgrade" (which considering he's Spider-man 3.0 makes things very complicated. Now, Tony can track down this "kid" but he can't track down Team Cap driving around in old Volkswagens in BERLIN. Really? With their emission problems?

Okay, enough grousing. Let's get to the good part. This sequence makes no sense unless you're a "fanboy" who "geeks" out on stuff like this. Falcon, Ant-man, Hawkeye, Scarlet Witch, Winter Soldier and Captain America are walking across a tarmac—way out in the open—to get to an Avengers jet to fly to SIBERIA to take care of Zemo and those five winter-soldiers. No flight plan. No official documents. All done undercover. 

Except they're walking out in broad daylight in the middle of a very open space—in full costume—and then, they are confronted by Iron Man, Iron Warrior, Black Widow, Vision, and the Black Panther—in full costume. This is going into Susan Sontag "camp" territory, along the lines of Adam West's Batman walking into a discotheque and telling the waiter that he doesn't want to attract attention, while he's wearing a mask and a blue satin cape. 1) Tony chooses NOW to confront them, instead of before if he's so good at tracking people, and maybe when they might be caught unawares? 2) He's doing this without the German anti-terrorist folks (who stopped them before) anywhere in the vicinity—even as a back-up? 3) He holds his ace card—Spider-man—in hiding until he can bring him in with a dramatic entrance (as "cool" as it is, it's also stupid, strategically).

Okay. Kvetching over. There then occurs, for about fifteen minutes the best part of the movie, where the two teams run at each other ("They're not stopping!" bleats Spider-man) and start fighting, and for a comics geek, this is really fun, especially with the addition of the hyper-active Spider-man, and the nearly ecstatic Ant-Man ("Everybody's got a gimmick now," grumbles Hawkeye), who both employ some surprises about dealing with the opposite combatants in moves that have not been seen before, both sides trying to stop the other, but not necessarily kill them—sort of like a WWE exhibition.

"You've got a metal arm? That's AWESOME, dude!"
(He actually says that)

For awhile, it looks like Cap's group is going to get to go to SIBERIA, with Ant-Man doing enough damage inwardly and outwardly to folks' equipment—to the point where they give Iron Man one of the best lines of the movie: "Okay, anybody on our side hiding any shocking and amazing possibilities, now's the time!"

Concern about collateral damage—which is what they're fighting about—goes out the window, as the conflict gets out of hand at the airport. But Cap and Bucky manage to get to a plane to take off, with a malfunctioning Iron Man and War Machine in hot pursuit, the Falcon running interference, and The Vision managing to fire off some blast that Falcon evades and ends up hitting War Machine, sending him plummeting to the Earth, leaving Stark pissed and determined for revenge.

"By Hrothmar's hammer, you shall be revenged..."

And yet...things come to light, too conveniently, and with the same lack of story-logic that plagues The Dark Knight and Skyfall—the villain goes to elaborate plans to create situations that he has NO idea will actually occur in the manner that he supposedly supposes. The rest of the film follows Cap and Bucky's trip to Siberia, and Iron Man's pursuit of the truth of it all, which, if he just didn't pursue it, would completely screw up the villain's plans. And it contains, a mood-change moment that is SO convenient that it desrves to be called (after the opposite, defusing attitude changer in Batman v Superman) a "Martha Moment."

And this is where Captain America: Civil War ultimately fails. There is some sharp writing going on in the microcosm, the film is full of great lines without resorting to puns and cultural humor (well, not too much, anyway). But, the picture—what the story is about, the grand arc of the movie—has no real point. One gets the sense, after all, that, for all the build-up and anticipation, the film's a bit of a let-down. It's hollow in the center like an empty Iron Man suit. Ultimately, it's about nothing, and the film ends without much changed...only intensified. Oh, Spider-man gets introduced and that's fun. But, the Avengers? Same as they ever was. The conflicts stay the same, and there's not much there to hold them together. Until another crisis comes along, which will occur, Sokovia Accords or no Sokovia Accords. Nothing, ultimately, is at stake.

"Civil War's" "Martha" Moment

The film does have Robert Downey's best acting in the entire Marvel series, and not just his penchant for ad-libbing a better line than scripted. Here he sells the many conflicting moods of Tony Stark to the point where you think the character is probably more than a little unstable, and he is, as written. The Russo's do a fine job of directing and keeping things moving...and (more importantly) keeping things clear in a very convoluted, and potentially confusing, story. The action scenes are fast, funny, and followable, with the occassional "W'oh!" moments (the opening fight, though, has that zippering stuttering quality that's starting to look like the speeded-up "undercranking" in 1940's films.

And one more fight that didn't need to happen, except the script formula demanded it

What sets Captain America: Civil War apart, though, is it's ability to have its cake and eat it, too, with that most over-used concept in this genre—the revenge story. Everything here is set up over revenge. Most of the bad guys' motives are because of revenge. "You did this to me and I'm going to make you suffer for it." Yawn. We've seen a lot of carnage in the super-hero movies, and as budgets get bigger and CGI gets better, the depictions have gotten to the point of being troubling—compare Superman II's Superman-Zod battle to the one in Man of Steel.  Age of Ultron tried to top it, while also acknowledging some bits of damage control. Both Batman v Superman and Civil War address the issue—the consequences of the previous movies influence the next ones: Bruce Wayne targets Superman over the deaths of employees at Wayne Financial in Metropolis; Zemo's actions are a direct result of the incidence in SOKOVIA.

Revenge is at the core. But CA:CW differentiates between the heroes and the villains with the issue of revenge. The bad guys want revenge. The good guys should not. And yet Stark is susceptible to it—he's merely a millionaire with weapons at his disposal, while most of the others (save Scarlet Witch, Spidey, Vision) are soldiers, they have seen the consequences of war. They know things happen. They have suffered losses (Cap's main motivation lies in the loss of Bucky Barnes during WWII). Everybody may be pointing fingers, but the blame goes to those with the wrong motivations, despite the amount of time spent trying to pin accountability. In their own fumbling way, the writers may have hit on something—the emphasis should maybe be placed more on heroics than action, on sacrifice and restraint, rather than gymnastics. Personal integrity rather than firepower. 

It may make the movies less adrenaline-pumping, but it might make them less dreary, less wearying and more inspiring. 

One should hope.

Missing in action—the two punching bags.

* Those words are:  Longing. Rusted. Seventeen. Daybreak. Furnace. Nine. Benign. Homecoming. One. Freight Car. Use then at your own risk and not around anyone with a metal arm.

Godzilla (2014)

Meet the New Lizard.  Same as the Old Lizard.
or
Feeling Pacific Rimmed

Oh, I had such high hopes. After ignoring it for so long (probably because my eyes were rolling back in my head at its mention), a glimpse of a preview of the new Godzilla movie looked terrific, was moody and atmospheric, and gave you just a glimpse of the new "Gojira" (the name of the creature in the Japanese original), giving it an air of a Ray Harryhausen beastie—fake, sure, but with a look you could respect. There was a "buzz" about it, that this one (the 30th) might actually be a good one...for a change. Time Magazine threw it in as the lead for its large article on upcoming "Cli-fi" movies.*  Certainly it had a cast that was respectable: Ken Watanabe, Sally Hawkins, Bryan Cranston, Juliet Binoche, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, and Elizabeth Olsen, and I genuinely admired director Gareth Edwards' documentary In the Shadow of the Moon.

But, let's face the music, kids: it's a "Godzilla" movie. It's not even a "Gojira" movie. It's a "Godzilla" movie with a stern American militaristic seriousness. That's all well and good if you want to take that parade stance, but all the verisimilitude in the world can't make you resist giggling when the creatures begin crashing into each other like sumo wrestlers, as they did in the old films. At least Pacific Rim went right for the funny-bone by having its "Gigantor" robots delivering hay-makers to the threatening kaiju.

But it does try and make a point—just as the original Japanese film used a monster movie to talk about the dangers inherent in setting off nuclear weapons—about making this old ancient Earth cranky and unstable, in this case with the proliferation of nuclear weapons and with a Fukushima-like nuclear disaster in Japan that leads to the unleashing of even more cranky creatures (labeled M.U.T.O.'s "Massive Unidentified Terrestrial Organisms" and the only humor to be found in the film is the straight-faced way in which military commander David Strathairn—another terrific actor—delivers this information as if he were throwing out anagrams of a coalition of the willing), who have no regard for the ant-like bi-peds in its path.

"My name isn't above the title—it IS the title—and I don't
show up until the last third of the movie.
Do I have a great agent or what?"

Speaking of which, one of the nice things about this Godzilla is how it maintains a certain visual connection to the Japanese series; certainly, anyone who's seen those movies remembers the visual scheme where Godzilla is in the background stomping around, while in the foreground blue-screened Japanese citizens are fleeing towards the camera (even if you haven't seen one of the films, it's been parodied so often, you may be familiar with it).

Edwards' direction is very bystander-centric, you usually see the monsters from the perspective of the citizenry being threatened (and in a neat touch for 3-D, through windshields and office windows that puts just enough barrier between creature and "creatured" to lend perspective and communicate vulnerability). It gives the film a slight sense of nostalgia, even while it's trying to create its own crater in the series.  And one has to say that it has moments of beauty to it—it never doesn't look terrific—but scenes like an eerie night-time HALO jump (set to Ligeti's "Requiem") and a brief eye-to-eye moment between the big "G" and the movie's hero (played by Aaron Taylor-Johnson) before the creature is enveloped by the dust of San Francisco's destruction stay with you, and even haunt.

The cast (other than Taylor-Johnson and Olsen) are largely extended cameos (and one is advised to not get too attached to any of the characters, if that's possible), but one comes away from this evolution of the beast feeling like one's only seen a better-made version of the old hokey movies of the past, like a better wrapped tie for Father's Day. What makes this film special is what made the ideas behind the original special, told with a portentousness far exceeding its worth. Maybe in their efforts to make everything believable, they decided to make it less fun.

Why, the giant lizard doesn't even do his "happy dance" that he'd do after defeating Robot-Kong or whatever.  Certainly, I didn't while exiting.

* The subsequent review by Time's Richard Corliss was very disparaging.  Reading the earlier article, I got the distinct feeling the writer never saw Godzilla versus the Smog-Monster.