Probably because he's the biggest bad-ass in the Valley of Death.
Not exactly chapter and verse of lines he says in the movie, but you get the point: we're talking about a religious-themed apocalypse story, more than a mere Christ-allegory, ala I Am Legend. And the way the Hughes Brothers have put it together, they're making a western of the Shane variety, but it could also be Mad Max (they're similar, especially The Road Warrior), another legendary loaner who must make his way being civilized after civilization has crumbled, like so many over-passes, into rubble.
Now, before we get too far, let us just say that, given what we see in the first five minutes of the film, its ultimate revelation is impossible, maybe the Hughes Bros. thought we'd forget or didn't care, but it's stretching things quite a bit. I could speculate (and give things away) but maybe it's merely sufficient to say that in the scheme of things, you have to take it on Faith, because The Book of Eli is all about Faith. Faith is what drives Eli, he is suffused with it. He has been assured by the voice that a path will be made for him and all will be provided.
He's pretty lucky in that regard. He manages to find potable water and to recharge his I-pod filled with classic rock* (It's all classic rock at this point in time!), and he's particular about weapons, bullets being hard to come by in a land where "one man's garbage is another man's treasure." When he chooses to fight (and he chooses not to a couple of times in the film, choosing, rather, to "stay on the path" than help the victims of an attack), it is with particularly nasty looking long knives—Kukri machetes (I love the Internet)—as well as bows, rifles, pistols (and probably boomerangs if he was in Mad Max's apocalypse), all aimed and fired with deadly accuracy.
So, he's not your typical man of Faith, using it like a weapon. Eli takes his place in the long line of men (and women) with no, or only one, name who have tumbled through the landscape of westerly-headed movies.
The Hughes Brother owe a large debt to Sergio Leone for this one (and present the receipt by having one of the characters whistle "Cockeye's Theme" from Once Upon a Time in America), but also to John Ford, in an excquisitely composed showdown with the player on the other side who also uses Faith as a weapon, a town-kingpin named Carnegie (played with a Jim Jones quivering fervor by Gary Oldman), who, as in history, has this "thing" about books...and one book in particular that he can use to consolidate his power...three guesses what it is (and I'll be saving the other two for next time).
But, it's a good respectable movie, although well-telegraphed, and forming a kind of post-apocalyptic "greatest nuclear hits" in one movie, with its "Wild West" motifs fitting like a lead-lined glove. Not a bad movie to watch in the shelter, really.
* Another "take-it-on-Faith" detail. Hate to tell you this, kids, but a nuclear pulse will erase all your mp3's, no matter how long you've been collecting. They're right when they say a nuclear war can ruin your whole day!
Zero Tolerance for Citizens or Spinning That Ol' Wheel of Fortune
I expect nearly everybody was looking forward to Neill Blomkomp's next film, after the gooey splash District 9 made. His new one,Elysium, has the same kind of life-lesson—"what have you done for someone else lately?" and how one's perspective changes when you walk around in someone else's downtrodden shoes. The approach is slightly different, though, even if the futuristic milieu is still glum. In this future, the current economic climate hasn't changed, only the locations have. Earth, after years of neglect, is one big slum, there is no distinction between urban and rural anymore, the green spaces are dead, and there is a space-age version of urban flight—the "one percenters" have moved on up to an orbiting oasis called Elysium, and it is, as in Greek Myth, the isle of the Fortunate, a paradise, with estates and luxury homes perched inside it's rotating ring. It's the ultimate gated community.A large star in the sky, it is out of reach but never out of the sightor the minds of the stragglers of Earth who hope to get there by fortune or by smuggling themselves by shuttles, which Elysium's defensive perimeter either discourages or destroys.
The parallels to today's refugee and immigrant desperation is baldly presented, and obvious to anyone whose world-view isn't in spec-fic but down here on Earth, much as apartheid was morphed into xenophobia in D-9. Add to that that the penthouse in space also seems to have access to the ultimate in universal health-care, a medi-bed that scans you and...simply cures you (it seems). Other than those fanciful details, everything's played a little straighter, no doubt because you have big stars like Matt Damon and Jodie Foster, rather than just Sharlto Copley (although he's here too, bless him), so the financial risks are slightly more, so they make the stakes in the film a little higher, too. Higher in that the government (naturally) is up there in Elysium, in the form of President Patel, who has a rather prickly defense secretary (Foster, channellingAngela Lansbury from The Manchurian Candidate), who has a unique sense of how to protect The Ring, supplementing the force of robot-police with soldiers of fortune, like a particularly nasty one named Kruger (Copley), who would probably kill for a hobby if he wasn't being paid for it.
Down on Earth, it's dog-eat-dog, and former car-thief Max Da Costa (Damon) is trying to go straight, working towards the dream of going to Elysium by working in one of the factories mass-producing the robo-cops that keep the populace under their teflon thumbs. But an industrial accident leaves Da Costa dying, with only five days to live. His only chance is to somehow get up to Elysium and one of those miracle-med-things, so, with a few super-drugs pumping through his system, he signs up to do some dirty work for a former employer, which involves stealing industrial secrets—which just happen to be Elysium's security codes—that will unlock the station's defenses and allow a mass exodus from Earth to Elysium.
Da Costa allows himself to be merged with a powerful exo-skeletonand neural-netto download the codes, then, once there—well, let's just say things get personal, as these things are wont to do, but not selfish, as that flies against the "hero" sense that movies must have, so there has to be some deflection of need for Da Costa to some other....blah-blah-blah. Face it, the exo-skeleton could be a crucifix motif, so Da Costa has to do some sacrificing because...well, that's the way they do it in movies these days. There can't be any motivation of "self" because apparently that would make you as "bad" as the Elysium-buyers. So, ultimately, Da Costa has to do all the fighting and scraping for somebody else, and, as per usual, it's an acquaintance's sick child. Again.
And that's the main thing that makes Elysium less than thrilling: for all the "neat" visuals, for the interesting "take" on today's events, for all the good intentions and the perversions of such, it feels like every other sci-fi Christ allegory and leaves you feeling a little hollow while its trying to make you feel noble and unselfish while watching it. Well, I've seen that before, and I thought the intention of sci-fi was to show you something different. It is a noble effort, but ultimately, it suffers from story-sameness, and recycled ideas from the cookie-cutter school of script-writing. It's too bad because Elysium has a lot going for it.
Gotta say that Elysium has some pretty cool concepts for its pleasure-wheel
or My Sister Looks Cute in Her Mech-Arm and Boots, A Hand-full of Grease is Her Hair.*
Kinetic. That one word sums upMad Max: Fury Road—itself a film of few words, made up of a story-line propelled by images of such kinetic energy it feels like an assault.
We've had a lot of those lately, but the difference between this latest "Mad Max" installment, the fourth,** shepherded (the appropriate term) by its originator, the now-70 years old Dr. George Miller, and your typical action movie—say The Avengers: Age of Ultron—is that the action is part and parcel of the story, and rather than being a one hundred twenty minutes-long diversion, with hyper tent-poles to goose the movie along, it is the story, the images communicating the message, as most superior movies do...as most movies should.
The energy is so palpable, in varying frame-rates for emotional intensity, that it almost feels like one of the "Crank" movies of Neveldine and Taylor (except Miller was doing these tricks when they were just kids). But, it's more than frame rates. Miller's post-apocalyptic films feel relentlessly imaginative, sometimes repulsively so—you are frequently shocked by what he shows (and that's been true, even from his first "Max"—shocking, yes, but darned good ideas, nonetheless), and this latest is just as tough and unsentimental, even if the base subject matter is The Movies' most obvious road to sentiment.
Tom Hardy takes over the role of Mad Max from Mel Gibson
The previous Gibson "Max's" have dealt with vengeance (in the first, road cop Max Rockatanski has his family murdered and brings the street racers responsible to pay for it). In the second, the world has gone through a nuclear disaster, and gasoline is a precious commodity. In this one, it's raw power and influence. In the third, it's water...and basic human rights—specifically, women's rights (Stop rolling yer damn eyes, boys. Let me explain).
Not sure where we are in continuity here—methane is a main source of power as well as human labor, but gasoline can still be found in Gas Town and ammunition at a place called The Bullet Farm. Max is alive, hair long and shaggy (as it was in Thunderdome) and still in possession of his MFP Pursuit Special (he was driving a camel-powered wagon in Thunderdome) and is looking out over a bleak landscape of desert. A two-headed lizard appears behind him and Max steps on it and eats it. So much for survival. He gets in the PS and is being pursued by a vehicle gang from The Citadel. Max is out-chased and taken captive, his skills and stats tattooed on his back for reference. His job is to be a "blood-bag," catheterized up to one of the many raiding party "War Boys," Nux (Nicholas Hoult), the sickly son of the Citadel's leader Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne), absolute ruler over the many slaves of the Citadel, controlling the only known water supply (from deep underground) and farming breast-milk from the Citadel's women—several of whom are kept aside as "breeders" for Joe. One learns early on in Fury Road that your only identity is by your usefulness
Hugh Keays-Byrne returns to the Mad Max series as Immortan Joe
Joe's lieutenant, the imperator Furiosa (Charlize Theron) is charged with leading a convoy to Gas-Town for supplies. She looks hard and seems very capable despite that her left arm is gone from the elbow and has been replaced (when necessary) by an armored robotic arm. With a variety of vehicles on-guard, she takes the point in a converted 18-wheeler War Machine, but before reaching Gas-Town, she declares to the War-Boys watching for attacks that they're going to take a little detour and veers off the road.
Meanwhile, back at The Citadel, Joe realizes that his breeders are missing. Being no sign of them, he believes Furiosa might be behind their disappearance (especially as she has not kept the appointment at Gas-Town. So, with a flotilla of vehicles, he and the Mad Boys go off to the desert in pursuit. Max is taken along as blood supply, strapped to the front of Nux's car, like a bizarre hood ornament, given a front row seat to the chase.
That chase, like the movie, is relentless, violent, savage...and a lot of brutish fun. Done with little CGI and employing an army of stunt-persons (even some Cirque Du Soleil performers) it is a series of challenges and explosive results, done practically (I use that term semi-seriously—a lot of budget and design work goes up in wanton fiery smoke—hardly practical) with little or no digital enhancement, save for some editing crunches and picture-tinting. The rest of the movie is taken up with the chase, with little respite or breathing room. Like The Road Warrior before it, Fury Road thrills, surprises and horrifies, and sets nervous legs pumping with adrenaline all through the theater, while also hiding in plain sight Miller's message amid the pyrotechnics.
And what is that message? Well, that Immortan Joe is right in his paranoia: Furiosa has, indeed, smuggled the women, all pregnant, in the War Machine, and her ultimate goal is the same as in the other "Mad Max" movies—to find Valhalla among the madness. In this case, it is the home Furiosa was stolen from as a child—The Green Zone. There, the women have a chance of raising their children in a sane environment, out of the control of the male despot who has fathered them. The movie is one hell of a protracted custody battle.
Super-models and Elvis' granddaughter are the precious cargo in Mad Max: Fury Road
Having a feminist message inside Mad Max is hardly surprising. Miller likes strong female characters, whether in this series or any movie he makes—The Witches of Eastwick, Lorenzo's Oil—and he cleverly couches it in an action movie...a bit like hiding runaway brides in a tanker-truck. Miller has said his "Mad Max" movies are basically westerns—and they do recall high-octane versions of John Ford's hell-bent-for-leather cavalry chases through Monument Valley, combined with the more female-empowering leanings (as opposed to his usual worshipful regard) of The Master's last film Seven Women.*** The chasing War Boys are all albino-pigmented (to favor dad) and have all the individuality of crash-test dummies (handy for the stunts!), but the "Mothers of Detention" are all distinctive and diverse (with the exception that they're all attractive)—their very appearance takes them out of the norm and makes them visual rebels.
Summing up Mad Max: Fury Road in one image.
It is Max's role (as it has been in the other "Mad Max" movies, save the first one) to shepherd these new heroes to the point where they can be heroic—to start anew amidst the rubble of the old, to strike a beginning out of the ruins of Man and start fresh, apart from the devastation, and then, having accomplished the task to disappear out of sight, back to the ruins that he still belongs in, becoming a part of History...even of Myth. In a Summer season of movies that has begun rather inauspiciously, the sheer brio and audaciousness of Mad Max: Fury Road is a welcome relief—a bit of oasis in a desert of unremarkable and disappointing entries so far. That it does so with such energy and visual acuity makes it even more remarkable, the work of a true artist of movies, more interested in the power of the medium and reaching its potential, than merely racing to a release date. That it does so with a statement hidden in it just makes it that much more special and appreciated. Remember that it's called "Fury Road," as in "Hell hath no..."
The two release trailers for Mad Max: Fury Road.
Actually, the pace of them is only a little faster than that of the entire film.
* The soundtrack for Mad Max: Fury Road is pretty darned magnificent, but the thing in hindsight seems to jam to "Saturday Night's All Right for Fighting" in its sheer frenetic forward energy.
** They are, in order, Mad Max(1979), The Road Warrior (1981) and Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome (1985), all starring Mel Gibson in the title role. *** ...which, itself, is a tip of the director's fedora to the films of fellow-director Howard Hawks with their girls-will-be-boys bent and the "strength of many" point of attack.
The Best-Dressed Rebel in History (You Say You Want a Re-vo-lu-tion, We-ell, ya know, We'd All Love to See the Wardrobe) or "(If I Get Killed), Make Sure You Get it on Camera" Okay, now it gets interesting. "The Hunger Games" saga gets interesting, even as the dramatic momentum slows to a crawl to set up the paradoxes and conflicts that will ensue in the next film of the series due November 20, 2015 (mark your calendars, but better do it in pencil). Mockingjay Part 1has been released, and it is a game-changer, after two movies with the same premise (distopian society conducts its own crowd-pleasing and -controlling form of entertainment by pitting gladiators from each state into a winner-take-all death-match) and moves to the next step—those gladiators rising up like Spartacus to do battle against the leaders that oppressed/glorified them in the process.
A non-CGI'd Hoffman, Moore and Jeffrey Wright plotting, plotting...
The games—the government's weapon of mass-distraction—are over, interrupted by Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) defiantly firing an insurrectionary arrow into the overhead circuitry of the Hunger Games arena. Now, it's sudden death and the battle is real. But...not really. What makes this entry interesting is that the battles and explosions mostly happen off-screen, the real fireworks are in the media as both sides of the conflict—the government and the various districts—engage in propaganda wars over the public air-waves. At this point, image is the big weapon of choice and the rebels (led by new-to-the series Julianne Moore and the late Philip Seymour Hoffman, along with former champions Woody Harrelson and Jeffrey Wright) against the administration of President Snow (Donald Sutherland), who rescued Katniss in the last installment, Catching Fire. Now, the pressure on Katniss is not to participate in the games, but to become "The Mockingjay," "The Girl on Fire," the poster-girl to inspire and incite the masses to revolution.
"If we burn, you burn with us"
They want her to be Joan of Arc—in which case "Girl on Fire" is not the most promising of titles. The masses hardly need encouraging, with rebel attacks, random sabotage and giving the three-fingered (read between the lines?) Katniss salute in solidarity. Ms. Everdeen is not so spontaneous or rebellious—she chafes at her role as role-model. Her concerns are for her family (who may have been lost in an attack on her home district 12) and her friends in harm's way, particularly Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) who has been captured by "The Capitol" for use in their own media wars.
Part 1 is merely the set-up for the fireworks to come in Part 2, where loyalties will be tested and ultimate sacrifices made (inevitably). But the set-up has its interesting aspects embedded in author Suzanne Collins' designs that have been slightly glossed over in the previous movies. For instance, the Panem situation is an interesting commentary on existing political systems and their failures in practice, combining both communist and capitalist models that have both degenerated into the most lop-sided of societies of "some being more equal than others" and rich and poor separated by a wide economic gulf, with no middle-class to provide aspiration and cushion. Collins also argues that both agrarian and technological systems have their inherent weaknesses (she's preaching to the choir here—I live in Washington State).
Katniss receives a sly message from President Snow in Mockinjay 1
The other nice thing about Mockingjay 1 is the role of symbology in the proceedings—a concept that Christopher Nolan only stumbled around in his "Dark Knight" trilogy without really getting to the point. Katniss was made, reluctantly, into the Mockingjay of The Hunger Games by the Capitol. She is just as reluctant to fulfill the role for the rebels, so there's a psychological war going on amid the bombings and the district-cleansings. The Capitol made The Girl on Fire their symbol. Now, that she's playing for the other team, they're just as ready to tear her down, even as the rebellion tries to build her up as their own, and as these things have a cyclical nature, once the rebellion claims her...
Even District 13 has a cyclical nature...
Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves. It's sufficient to say that The Hunger Games in the larger picture is saying something about fame and fortune, the danger of depending on symbols—especially reluctant ones—and the general manipulation of fiction for fact—certainly in its parallel to the "reality" television blip (please, God, is it over yet?), but also in the general use of myth-making and how the general public can be led like sheep to believe one thing as long as its comfortable (and what they want to hear), and then, on a dime, turn into a slathering "burn-the-witch" crowd at the contrary, even if it's that one has overstayed their welcome. (I would say that mob mentality could use a healthy smartening-up of "fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me" but I don't know how well I could float with my hands tied behind my back). Don't believe me? Ask Bill Cosby. Or any U.S. President. Or anybody who has sought fame and still has something resembling a conscience, however useless as an appendix it has become to them. You probably have a hero right now walking a tightrope just one misstep from a fall. Hope they have a good press agent. A good alibi would do. End of lecture. Back to Mockingjay, Part 1: Sure, there are things really, really wrong with it (Katniss shoots down a jet fighter, which then swerves into another one, taking down two jets with one shot...from a bow-and-arrow? A bow-and-arrow??), but, in general, I liked this chapter better than the previous ones. It will be interesting to see what they do for the finale.
Feeding the Beast or To Kill a Mocking-jay I mocked The Hunger Games rather mercilessly when it came out (as if it would prevent a single sou from entering its coffers) , because even though it was a hot publishing phenom' and a breathlessly anticipated movie, the original concept was a bit derivative without being very divergent (yeah, that's a snark for a future film there). So now, the second of The Hunger Games films (of four total)Catching Firehas come out (with a new director, Francis Lawrence, of Water for Elephants and I Am Legendas a bit of an improvement over Gary Ross, even with Steve Soderbergh assisting) and this one's a better film. For one thing. "this time it's political," and the easy targets of reality TV and the excesses of the rich (with an eye towards the Roman Empire and its parallels of bread and circuses) are a bit less strident, although they haven't disappeared. They're just presented a little better this time. And the politico's of the Capitol are being a bit more cagey than they were previously. Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) now finds herself the most watched human in Panem. Her victory in the 74th Hunger Games along with Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) has earned her and her family a cushy residence in Victor's Village and the vulture-like scrutiny of Panem's leader, President Snow (Donald Sutherland, as creepily confident as if he were selling you orange juice). He sees the way that Katniss has reached out to Panem's people and now she's the centerpiece of a swelling revolutionary movement. A personal presidential visit amounts to a threat that she'd better be convincing in her devotion to the State. "I'll convince them." assures Katniss. "No." replies Snow slowly. "Convince me."
And with that, the stakes are raised. A "Victory Tour" is planned for the remaining districts (the ones that haven't been nuked), but at each appearance of Katniss and Peeta something happens that brings out the riot police. At the suggestion of the Capitol's new gamesmaster (check out this name) Plutarch Heavensbee (Philip Seymour Hoffman, keeping a straight face), who comes up with a plan to put more pressure on Katniss and speeding the inevitable moment when the public turns against her. Then, with the next Hunger Games competition occurring (the 75th), it is decided that, rather than having a "Reaping" lottery among the populace, the competition will be between past Victors, considered by the State now to be potential inspirations and inciters to riot.
So now, the Games are between past champions (including Jeffrey Wright, Jena Malone, and Amanda Plummer), some of whom are just as determined to win, while others are angry at being targeted again, but there will be only one survivor.
It's a better film with more tricks up its sleeve, and the media manipulation is played by all sides—it may be an illusion but Stanley Tucci's teeth actually look whiter this time—with a terrific set-up for the next films that comes out of left field...if you haven't read the books. It's an entertaining change-up from the situations of the original, and promises to be even more intersting next time out.
Yeah, yeah. I'm being "Joe Buzzkill" here.The Hunger Gamesis going to make a kajillion dollars (even in dystopian future-money) in theaters, DVD's, books, magazines and "mockingjay" pins. Nothing I say can stop that (nor should it).
But it's a fact that this is all recycled material*(just as "Harry Potter" was, just as "Twilight" was), just skewed young for the burgeoning youth book market (which is still thankfully strong). The one interesting aspect to it is that this is "The Most Dangerous Game" for a generation having grown up on alleged "reality" TV programming. An entire generation has happened since "Survivor," "Big Brother," "The Bachelor," "The Amazing Race," "Fear Factor," and "American Idol," all game shows rigged from the get-go,**manipulated for false drama in editing suites, ginned up with flashy production values and glitz, and as genuine of enterprise and skill as a WWF wrestling match—think of it, there are people who pay good money to see that junk "live."
There's a sucker born every minute.
Or a saga.
The story is, by now, well-known: In the future, America is now Panem, divided into 12 working districts governed by an all-controlling Capitol, run by President Snow (Donald Sutherland in the film, who might give the second best performance in it, a brutal paternalism, done with economy and implied malice—he's something of a breath of fresh air from some of the other performances, and his reading of the reply to "Everybody likes an underdog"—"I don't"—made me laugh out loud, while putting a chill down my spine). Every year, two teens from each district are chosen by lottery for "the Hunger Games," a televised death match from which only one can survive. It's The Olympics to the Death, complete with pomp, circumstance, and Roone Arledge style "up-close-and-personal" drama dredging. It's "bread and circuses" for the Masses with mock sentimentality and district pride provided to cover the slaughterhouse aspects.
From the coal-mining district (12) comes Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence, who's the best thing in the film, giving a performance cunning and tremulous) who volunteers for the Games when her 12 year old sister is chosen in the lottery. Her co-warrior is Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson, in a performance that could best be described as "uneven"), with whom she's had a past.
The two are sent by bullet-train to the Capitol, where they are prepped, buffed-up, coiffed and positioned for presentation to the national audience, their handlers being Effie Trinket (an unrecognizableElizabeth Banks in an insufferable performance), past winner Haymitch Abernathy (Woody Harrelson who has his moments—"Nice shooting, sweetheart" gets an appreciative audience response) and Cinna (Lenny Kravitz), their fashion designer. This is easily the worst part of the film, the satire played broad (especially by Toby Jones and Stanley Tucci—both usually fine actors—who play the TV hosts for the broadcast) with a fashion-sense of the privileged Capitol citizens that can best be described as "subtle clown" (or is it "post-modern Gaga?").
I suppose director Gary Ross (who co-wrote and brought in Steven Soderbergh as second unit director) wanted to make satirical points on Capitol decadence or enhance the futuristic "feel" of the film, but he's a rather dull director and when he "pushes" it, he takes it places that feel false. At 2 hours, 20 minutes, if there are places that needed to be trimmed, it's in this section. But, once the actual contest starts with its electronically domed barriers, constant video surveillance, and game "enhancements" (like fireballs and this movies's version of R.O.U.S.'s***), the film becomes slick, vicious fun. And, appropriately, manipulative as Hell, in the foreground, background and throughout.
Why, after all, should the movie be any different from its inspirations? And if it gets the kids to realize that everything—sports, video games, "reality" shows, fashion, political campaigns, whatever—is just distractions from the struggles of real life, used by government and corporations alike, to keep us satiated with bread and circuses, just like in those "boring" History lessons about Rome, then so much the better.
Of course, it would be nice, if instead of going to the theaters to see it, we might (I dunno) join a protest or something? Jefferson said "A little revolution now and again is a good thing." But it was never a spectator sport.
* "The buzz" on IMDB is that The Hunger Games is a "rip-off" of Battle Royale (2000). Sure. Okay. So, what is Battle Royale a rip-off of?
** My favorite comment about "reality" programming was Johnny Carson's about "Survivor:" "I can't feel badly for these people when I know just out of camera range there are 20 Teamsters and a "catering table."
*** For anyone who isn't a fan of The Princess Bride, that would be "Rats Of Unusual Size."
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