Men in Black III

Sunday was International Moon Day (yes, that's a "thing") commemorating the date that human beings first put boot-treads on the Moon. That historic mission figured fictionally in this movie.

Written at the time of the film's release. 

Time Wounds All Heels
or
"Don't Ask Questions You Don't Want to Know the Answer To..."

The third "Men in Black" film had to go somewhere else but up. The first two films were variations on the "illegal alien" theme about a government organization that monitored the activities of extraterrestrials in the world and specifically New York City, and revolved around alien invasions and the containment of said aliens. And when you've seen one alien invasion directed by Barry Sonenfeld, you've seen them all, and hyper-kinetically at that. And once it's been established that "aliens can be anywhere" the joke runs a bit dry pretty quickly, especially when the sub-species can contain pug-dogs and large cockroaches. The second film tried to expand on those concepts and felt a bit thin in the process, concentrating a bit too much on the secondary characters rather than the basic plot and the character interactions.

So, where does Men in Black III go from there?

One of the nice aspects of the series has been its ability to still think outside the box, while expanding the horizons of just what that box might contain, be it variations of scale and dimension, even if only in afterthought. With the infinite reaches of space seemingly exhausted, the group (based, supposedly on an idea by Will Smith) has the series going back in time. Naturally. It ostensibly revolves around an Earth-takeover plot by another alien (one must ask at some point "why always us?"), "Boris the Animal" (who seems based on the DC Comics "Hell's Angel in Space" Lobo and is played with growly gutteral responses by Jemaine Clement from "Flight of the Conchords") who escapes from his maximum (and we mean maximum) security prison to find the man who sent him there 40 years ago—Agent K (Tommy Lee Jones). When he's unable to kill him here, the Boglodite finds another means to do so, and Agent J (Smith) wakes up the next morning, the only one with any memories of K past July, 1969. Agent K has been killed by Boris in the past, and J must journey back to try and save him.*

Once back there, J negotiates his way through a 1960's era way of doing things. Everything's a little less high-tech (a little less), but the MIB Agency is still there, as is the much younger Agent K (Josh Brolin, doing a bang-on interpretation of Jones) and J must solve the puzzle of saving the Earth (of course), while keeping K safe. The past sequences are great—Men in Black has exploited the "fish-out-of-water" angle perpetually—and new corners are being thrown out the whole time (My favorite being a brief glimpse of a "Barbarella"-type being escorted around MIB, and although Smith is a bit too "Red Bull" throughout the entire movie, check out his understated reaction to some Black Panthers). 

Great cast, too. Rip Torn is gone, but David Rasche plays him in the past, Emma Thompson is on hand as the new MIB head, Will Arnett makes a brief appearance as does Bill Hader. Toss in the chameleon-like Michael Stuhlbarg as an alien able to read multiple time-lines and there's always someone to deflect the eye, or hand things off from Smith.

But, the best thing about this "Men-in-Black" installment is resonance. The other two were fine, the first better than the second just for its novelty, but had a shelf-life of three minutes. Part of it is Sonenfeld's way of comically undercutting any meaning to the thing, by changing perspective—"you think you got a handle on it yet? Well, let me throw THIS at you!" The whole "the Universe is so big and cosmic that there's no way you can understand it because there's so many mysteries, so nothing is real" concept, which is the backbone of the series (and the source for most of its humor) leaves one with a feeling of "meh"—nothing matters in a vast uncaring, unfathomable Universe. 

Not here. The cold of Space has nothing to do with the leavening of Time, and, in this case, the franchise plays it straight, without a wink, a nod, a reveal, or a goo-spraying splat. For once, something really means something in the "Men in Black" Universe, and that venturing into uncharted territory makes the third time the charm.

  * I'm not saying anything here that isn't revealed in the trailer.

Monsters vs. Aliens

Okay, I know this isn't a horror film. It's an animated comedy for kids...but it has monsters and aliens and the monsters are based on actual horror movie monsters, so.... 

Written at the time of the film's release...

 

"The Ginormica Monologues" 

It's the perfect wedding day for Susan Murphy (voice of Reese Witherspoon, cracked on the boil): she has the perfect dress, the perfect church, and the perfect groom in fat-headed weatherman Derek Dietl (Paul Rudd). But it's all in the timing.  

Just after a little pre-nuptial spat about honeymooning in Paris or Fresno, the bride-to-be gets squashed by a meteorite. At the altar, everyone comments that she's positively glowing...but...glowing green! Then, she goes from meteoric to all metaphoric, by growing enormously, dwarfing her puny groom and scientifically smashing the church to splinters. I kept waiting for the parents to say "our little girl's grown up!" but no such luck.*

Pretty soon, the Army led by General W.R. Monger (a gruff Kiefer Sutherland, having fun) fires hypodermics in her butt and Gulliver her to the ground, where she awakens in one of those cavernous U.S. installations we only wish we had, with a bunch of other monsters Monger's captured since the atomic testing days of the 50's. There's the Missing Link (Will Arnett), a Blob named B.O.B. (Seth Rogen in a bit of typecasting), and the insane Dr. Cockroach (Hugh Laurie), as well as a giant Japanese moth creature called Insectizoid. Kept prisoners by the government, they are finally called out as a last resort when Aliens, led by the evil Galaxhar (Rainn Wilson, like you've never heard him) attack the U.S. ("...they only seem to ever attack here,"** intones a Brokawed-paletted news anchor) after humiliating the President (Stephen Colbert...typecasting again).

Dreamworks and the directors (Conrad Vernon and Rob Letterman of Shrek 2 and Shark Tale, respectively) do a nice job of plumbing the envelope of the monster-crowd giving us versions of Mothra, the Fly, the Blob, The Creature from the Black Lagoon and the 50 ft. Woman, and instilling the politically correct message that these aren't monsters but "special" people...er, things...entities (whatever). Indeed, the entire movie plays like a therapy session for Susan to embrace her empowerment and not to see her change as an accident of Nature, so much as...a happy accident of Nature. Hey, empowerment is empowerment even if you do go up 30 dress-sizes. 

The animation? Extraordinarily simplistic in a weird way. Susan looks like one of those big-eyed Keane children, and most of the men seem to be variations of Nixon (except for Derek, who looks uncannily like Conan O'Brien). The monsters are varying body-types and primary colors, so you can tell who's who when they're flitting across the screen (which they do a lot). 

Still, there is good planning going on, so one is never at a loss for where one is, and where the danger lies. In a totally made-up universe that can be a problem. And the 3-D effects are impressive, starting with a Dreamworks logo gag (heh), and a gratuitous paddle-ball sequence, although the 3-D-ness, sometimes comes off as having the dimensions of a pop-up book. But, the process has come a long way, and is frequently, deliberately eye-popping. It's not enough to recommend seeing it in theaters, though, so hopefully when it comes to DVD, they'll include the 3-D version, with glasses.

* ...and I'll bet the attendess threw puffed rice, (badum-bump!)

** Personally, I think it has to do with our Immigration Policy. "Okay, you can destroy the Golden Gate Bridge...once, but promise you'll never do it again and we'll consider granting you amnesty."\

Jonah Hex

Saturday is traditionally "Take Out the Trash" Day in these parts, but we're still doing Westerns for awhile, so...

Written at the time of the film's unfortunate release.


"Jonah Bloody Hex...Ah'd Recognize that Half-Cooked Pie-Hole Anywhere."

The title of this post says it all: "Jonah Hex," the movie, is "half-cooked" as in half-baked and a "pie-hole" as in an empty void.

Sad, too. Jonah Hex could have been a lot of savage fun if it were truer to the source—the DC comic book, the last semi-regular western title the publisher produces.

Jonah Hex was a confederate officer, who would not take part in a raid that would only produce civilian casualties, and so, he was the ultimate outlaw, trusted by neither the North or the South, and a bounty hunter, with a particularly nasty streak (not counting the melted-flesh scar adorning his right cheek*).

Hex was in a "funny book," although, he had no "powers and abilities far below those of mortal men," except a deadly accuracy with all things kill-making.  Seems that's not good enough for a four-color movie adaption these days, because the character now has a way to commune in the darker places of the spirit-world, awakening the dead with a touch in order to obtain information.  This hooey is a result of being saved from death by the mumbo-jumbo of the Crow Natives, who salved his wounds (but knew nothing from plastic surgery) and snatched his soul back from the after-life.**  Of course, the wounds were CAUSED by Natives in the comics, but consistency is the hob-goblin of little minds, and the pea-brains who made this one decided to air on the side of political correctness—which "Jonah Hex" never was and never should be.

The best of the "Hex" stories (not counting the ones where he was flung into a post-apocalyptic future, as a "Mad Max"-type) were written by a scribe with with his own twisted streak, Michael Fleischer (although don't call him "crazy" because Harlan Ellison implied it in an interview, and Fleischer sued...and lost).  The last issue he wrote had Hex meeting his end, and then being stuffed and mounted for display and the amusement of anyone who'd fork over two-bits.

He should contact his lawyers, because he might have better luck this time; this one's a PG-13 fiasco that's all-hat and no cattle, that tries to be gritty-tough, but doesn't have the powder to show a kill-shot.  A lot of people get killed, roasted, bludgeoned and chopped, but all discretely off-screen, even while its trying to be as nasty as can be, like a bully that talks tough but runs away from a fight. And anyone who thinks The A-Team was poorly directed (guilty) will be amazed at the cluelessness displayed here by director Jimmy Hayward,*** former animator for Pixar and co-director of the very fine Horton Hears a Who!****

It's all shot in a snatch-and-grab style, awkwardly staged, with no time to linger over period detail, then settles into a Leone-like formality (with picturesquely ugly extras) that's to a spaghetti western what Chef Boy-Ar-Dee's "SpaghettiO's" is to fine Italian cuisine. The Main Title fills in some animated back-story (fine), but then the thing hits the dirt like Hoss' played-out horse, with a tricked up story about a Doomsday Weapon about to be lobbed on Washington by Hex's former commander (who happened to murder his family to boot).  At about the half-way point, it looks like someone had seen Sherlock Holmes***** and tried to emulate the steam-punkish style, but—(never thought I'd say this!)—didn't have a clue how to match the precision of Guy Ritchie.

The movie's look changes dramatically whenever Megan Fox is on-screen, but that's not to the good. Instead of the gritty telephoto look of the rest of the film, she looks like someone spent some precise time lighting her, as she's bathed in golden light with roseate high-lights in her hair—it's the reverse equivalent of smearing vaseline on the lens to hide an actresses' wrinkles—it stands apart from the rest of the film almost to a laughable degree—and for no good reason other than it makes her look damned good. You can't shine gelled baby-spots on her performance, though, which, unencumbered of any modern girly-girl archness (at which she can be quite smart), is delivered in a flat, lazy drawl (sometimes, as she's inconsistent) and suggested to me that she might be this generation's Raquel Welch...or Jill St. John ("Ya look great, honey, just don't speak, okay?  You, too, Keanu").

It's a mess.  The script's bad (by the makers of the "Crank" movies—seems like a "natural" choice to me!), and only matched by the slip-shod film-making—whoever did it, and it could be a bean-counter at Warner for all I know.  The best parts are in the trailer, as the movie's only 85 minutes long (with credits), you're only missing 83 minutes of garbage.

I sat, during the credits, with my own Hex-like sneer on my face, contemplating just how badly this thing was screwed up, when the name of one of the Executive Producers showed up: Akiva Goldsman. Of course! The man who wrote the bad "Batman" scripts, who wrote Lost In Space, I Am Legend, Practical Magic, I, Robot, won an Oscar for A Beautiful Mind ("schizophrenia can be fun, kids!!"), and adapted both The DaVinci Code and Angels and Demons, and whose only talent seems to be the ability to "crack" a script by taking anything edgy or complicated and dumbing it down to the level a kindergartner could understand. If he were a chef, his specialty would be a liquid, runny oatmeal. 

His name has so symbolized terrible work that in my most churlish moments (usually after seeing one of "his" movies) I can only refer to him as "Hackiva." The man should be barred from having control over anything of literary merit, and consigned to merely working on "Chipmunk" sequels. He's been pegged to direct the remake of (appropriately) The Toxic Avenger. One hopes that he's a better director than he is a writer/producer, and may prove to be with the bar set so low. I doubt it. It's tough to avoid the "Hackiva" hex.******

* Among the many flaws of the movie, the prosthetic creating this effect looks a bit plastic—you don't see it on the poster, of course, in another instance of white-washing the movie—but it does have one funny outcome:  Whenever Jonah goes to a bar, he always has to order a double because half of it goes through the open wound in his cheek.

** And, just to pile on the atmospherics, he also seems to be followed around by flocks of crow familiars, which must make it hard to sneak up on people, although he does from time to time. 

*** Okay, to be fair to Hayward—"Horton" IS a great movie and certainly the best of the recent big screen Seuss adaptations—was replaced by Warner execs by Francis Lawrence (Constantine, I Am Legend) during re-shoots, so that may account for the film's inconsistent tone and look. 

**** I first suspected hopelessness when the hilarious Will Arnett showed up...in a completely straight-laced role as a government functionary.  What a waste!

***** Both Jonah and Sherlock are Warner Brothers movies, so, that's a distinct possibility.

****** He did not direct The Toxic Avenger remake, but 2014's Winters Tale, which bombed at the box office. After Hex, he exec-produced Paranormal Activity 2, 3, and 4, wrote the screenplay for The Dark Tower (that's why...), and has latched onto the "Star Trek" franchise, producing and writing "Star Trek: Discovery" and "Star Trek: Picard". 

Despicable Me

Written at the time of the film's release and before I developed my distaste for Minions. 

 
"Assemble the Minions!"

You can't swing a pixelated bug-eyed cat in a multi-plex these days without hitting a new digi-toon, being ground out like so many linked sausages, but with different degrees of quality.  The technology is now such that the makers no longer have to worry about working around the complexities of the images; such strides have been made in the field over the last 15 years that the work approaches photo-realism, if that is the intention of the pixel-wranglers. What is exciting now, with the constraints no longer a factor, is seeing what the various creators around the world DO with it, and the visions that they create, whether their source be in the world or the mind. Now that reality is no longer a problem, the makers of these visions can effectively throw it away.

So, here's Despicable Me.  You've been seeing the trailers for months, and for me, the impression has been a little "meh." Oh, the comic timing has been crack and the sensibility behind them a little twisted. But, whether that translated to a 90 minute feature is always the $20 million dollar question.

And Despicable Me is terrific. Frequently laugh out-loud funny, with breathless timing and a constant willingness to push the envelope in technology and story-telling. Sure, it has the obvious arc of a children's story, and you know how things will turn out, but the journey is the fun thing.

Gru (Steve Carell) is a "Fester-ish" super-villain on hard times. Oh, sure, he's not exactly hiding out in some super-secret headquarters somewhere—he only drives vehicles that pollute outrageously with a maximum of sparks and smoke, his is the only house in the neighborhood painted in dark, dingy colors and furnitured with Bondian uber-tech and stuffed animal corpses. Underneath is a vast gleaming complex linked by pneumatic tubes and what look like habi-trails, kept running by what appear to be thousands of animated twinkies.*He may seem like a villain who has everything (and what he doesn't have, he can obtain by ice-shackling the person who does with his "freeze-ray"), but there's a new villain named Vector (Jason Segel, voicing a character who's equal parts Bill Gates and Phil Silvers) who's just topped everybody by stealing one of the Pyramids. Good score. And the Bank of Evil ("formerly Lehman Brothers") likes the reaching entrepreneur with enough gall to think big when it comes to crime (call it "professional courtesy"), so they'll only dispense loans to those baddies with outlandish schemes. There's no greater "out-land" than The Moon, and so Gru sets his sights on it—a dream he's held since it was first pa-shawed by his crank of a Mum (Julie Andrews, wickedly unrecognizable).

But, you need a plan.  And his involves orphans ("We got adopted by a bald guy...I thought it would be more like Annie"), a "Spy vs. Spy"-style industrial espionage plot, and...cookie-robots.

The thing is witty in look and happenstance: the people are bulbously malleable as in The Incredibles, and the sets have a Burtonesque retro-engineering feel to them, but because the animation is done in France, the flow and pace, and attention to detail, is quite unlike things state-side, making it intriguing and refreshing. The voice-actors are spot-on by being nearly impenetrably unidentifiable...you won't recognize Will Arnett, or Kristen Wiig (two of my favorite comic actors of the moment) or Russell Brand, and Steve Carell's Gru is an amazing comic performance featuring crack timing, muttered asides and a nicely Slavic accent that tortures its way through idioms. 

And I love the buried movie references, little echoes of the past that tweak the unconscious, be they from It's a Wonderful Life, The Wrath of Khan, The Empire Strikes Back, or The Godfather (the last is so wickedly placed, I couldn't believe the writers were so sick to think of it). But, it's all done with its heart in the right place and a warmth of spirit tough to find in movies these days. It'll yank your heart strings to a ridiculously cartoonish length and never let them go.  This is one for the whole family, even though the parents will need to do a bit of explaining along the way (some of the jokes will just sail past the heads of kids, which is always a sign of a good cartoon).

I saw Despicable Me in 2-D, but it might actually benefit a 3-D screening, especially for the end-title sequence where the Minions attempt to bridge the gap between the screen and the audience—a hilarious concept that's a bit mind-blowing when you think of it (and evidently there's a phone app that allows you to translate what they're saying during it—will wonders never cease?).

* Called "Minions," they have all sorts of uses and are voiced by the co-directors and "Flight of the Conchords" Jemaine Clement.  Yee-es.