the traveler's resource guide to festivals & films
a FestivalTravelNetwork.com site
part of Insider Media llc.
Film and the Arts
"Iron Man 2" Puts Pedal to the Metal
- Details
- Parent Category: Film and the Arts
- Category: Reviews
- Published on Sunday, 09 May 2010 23:10
- Written by Frank Lovece
Directed by Jon Favreau
Screenplay by Justin Theroux, based on the character created by Stan Lee, Don Heck, Jack Kirby and Larry Lieber
Starring: Robert Downey Jr., Mickey Rourke, Samuel L. Jackson, Gwyneth Paltrow, Don Cheadle, Scarlett Johansson, Sam Rockwell, Jon Favreau, John Slattery
For all its fantastical trappings, the Marvel Comics superhero movie Iron Man (2008) was at heart about being morally responsible for one's actions, even when those actions might be perfectly legal and arguably justifiable. Without making more of the sequel than it itself intends, Iron Man 2, rather than pursuing that notion and examining the consequences of taking responsibility, instead veers off into a less expected and ultimately more interesting direction: It's a story about how even when the fantastical happens, one doesn't necessarily change.
They say money changes everything, but lots of lottery winners will tell you that they themselves don't change but remain, often for the worse, who they are, despite brand new circumstances that beg for them to adapt and grow.
Industrialist Tony Stark (Robert Downey, Jr.) — who in the first film develops the jet-propelled battle-suit that makes him Iron Man, and announces that the superhero-cum-deterrent is he — has become, six months later, the biggest celebrity on Earth. "I've successfully privatized world peace!" he crows, only half tongue-in-cheek, at the start of Stark Expo, a yearlong scientific world's fair at the site of the 1964-65 World's Fair in Flushing, New York. "What more do you want?"
It turns out what we want isn't what we thought we wanted. Stark is, if anything, more of who he was in the first film — his idiosyncrasies deeper, his self-indulgences greater, his insouciance thankfully trumping any hint of piousness. While there's nobility in the greater outlines, becoming Iron Man hasn't made his details any more serious or his person any more reliable — and that's refreshing. Much as we all love Superman or Spider-Man, who when given great power took on great responsibility, it's nice to see that great power doesn't necessarily make you a choir boy — not even a brooding, self-tortured Bat-choir-boy.
Stark's hubris before a Senate committee, led by an aptly grandstanding Garry Shandling, is all fun and games until somebody gets hurt. His showboating fuels the rage of revenge-minded Ivan Vanko (Mickey Rourke), who updates technology jointly developed by his own castoff father and Stark's late dad (John Slattery, reprising his "Mad Men" look in a 1974 industrial film). He creates a bare-bones battle-suit with the addition of metal-rending electrical "whips," and eventually gets recruited by defense contractor Justin Hammer (Sam Rockwell).
With head-to-toe Russian prison tattoos and as bad a badass as can be, Vanko remotely attacks Stark with a couple dozen battle-suit drones while taking the controls of a Mark II Iron Man suit piloted by Stark's friend Col. James Rhodes (Don Cheadle, succeeding Terrence Howard). The long-ensuing battle fully and satisfyingly exploits the oversized visual possibilities of comic books, turning those Ben-Day dot newsprint images into flesh, as it were, and failing only in the truncated climactic battle with Vanko himself, over far too soon and simply.
For the record, Vanko here is never called Whiplash, after the character on which he's based, and neither is Natasha Romanoff (Scarlett Johansson) called the Black Widow nor Rhodes dubbed War Machine. Yet even without those comic-book code names, Iron Man 2 furthers the comics' mythos while leaving the cinematic Stark almost but not quite the same. As in films about men in submarines and tanks, man-in-a-can movies like RoboCop, Steel and this one use the metaphor of metal as something that hides humanity and emotion.
The people inside a U-boat or the Iron Man armor may be flesh-and-blood and foible-filled, but the exterior, whether slicing through seas or roaring across the heavens, is intimidating and implacable. The tension and the drama come from where those counterpoints intersect. And in that respect, Iron Man 2 is fully fleshed-out, warts and all. It's the most slam-bang fun you can have while pondering the nature of identity, and whether we can ever really change who we are.
Oh, and stick around after the credits. Otherwise you might be a Thor loser.
For more by Frank Lovece: FrankLovece.com
Kevin's Digital Week 22: Faraway Worlds
- Details
- Parent Category: Film and the Arts
- Category: Reviews
- Published on Friday, 07 May 2010 05:00
- Written by Kevin Filipski
Avatar
(Fox)
An undeniable visual triumph, Avatar’s runaway financial success is the unsurprising culmination of the recent turn toward movies that are made for our eyes only, since the movie’s splendid set design and computer-generated makeup and effects make its banal story, mediocre acting and laughable dialogue superfluous. Director James Cameron might have created a world and a myth that millions of people around the world have bought into hook, line and sinker, but that does not avoid the inescapable fact that his movie, regardless of its luster, is an old-fashioned adventure dressed up in hundreds of millions of dollars’ worth of stare-of-the-art camouflage.
Still, although it’s puzzling that it won the Oscar for Best Cinematography (how can you tell what was shot with what was created on computers?), it’s easy to see what has enticed the movie’s legions of fans; on Blu-ray especially, Avatar’s brilliantly varied use of color becomes addictive. But at more than two and a half hours and without any characters even remotely worth caring about or rooting for (Stephen Lang did his crazed-general bit much better on Broadway in A Few Good Men two decades ago), Avatar soon wears out its welcome, as the viewer’s eyes glaze over from the mind-numbing sameness. There are no extras included in the Blu-ray/DVD pack, and no 3-D either.
DVD of the Week
The Young Victoria
(Sony)
An elaborately-costumed soap opera, The Young Victoria dramatizes the early years on the throne of the long-reigning English queen, whose name has become synonymous with an entire era after an eventful reign of 63 years. We see Victoria before ascending the throne at age 18, when she had to decide on a husband and, against much advice, chose Prince Albert, with whom she remained (and with whom she had nine children) until his premature death at age 42.
Director Jean-Marc Vallee doesn’t break any costume-drama rules, and if the movie is too conventional to a fault, it remains highly watchable, thanks to a first-rate physical production (led by Sandy Powell’s Oscar-winning costumes) and a group of good British actors, led by Emily Blunt’s spunky, touchingly vulnerable presence as Victoria and Rupert Friend as her sturdy Albert. The DVD’s extras comprise deleted and extended scenes, along with several too-brief featurettes about various aspects of the production, with an emphasis on the costumes, set design and attempts at historical accuracy.
"A Behanding in Spokane" Is the Ultimate Shaggy Dog Story
- Details
- Parent Category: Film and the Arts
- Category: Reviews
- Published on Wednesday, 05 May 2010 19:25
- Written by Lucy Komisar
Written by Martin McDonagh
Directed by John Crowley
Starring Christopher Walken, Anthony Mackie, Zoe Kazan, Sam Rockwell
Martin McDonagh takes weird to new levels in this ultimate shaggy dog story. It's bizarre and funny, albeit in a curious way, and if you suspend belief and don't take it too seriously, you will have a good time -- though you may shake your head as you leave the theater.
It seems that a 17-year-old kid was playing catch in Spokane, Washington, when six hillbillies dragged him to the railroad tracks, forced his hand onto the rail and watched while a train sped by and sliced it off. Then they used it to wave him good-bye. He, Carmichael (Christopher Walken), decided that if he didn't die, he would retrieve his hand and pay the attackers back. He has spent the ensuing 47 years doing just that.
Hillbillies in Washington state? When Walken tells the story, longish hair hanging limp below his ears, sunken eyes peering out of a drawn almost macabre face, you have to believe it. He creates a character who is creepy and ordinary at the same time.
So, now he has ended up in a film noir setting of a seedy hotel: blue chenille-covered bed, open radiator, and white neon "Hotel" sign partly visible through the window (set by Scott Pask). He has promised $500 to a couple of local pot sellers, Toby (Anthony Mackie) and Marilyn (Zoe Kazan) who say they have found his hand.
When Carmichael suspects he is being conned, his reaction is wicked. But it's a black comedy, so the horrific jokes are on the audience.
You have to sympathize with Toby (whose frustration is brashly expressed by Mackie); he has to deal not only with the threatening Carmichael, but with his girlfriend Marilyn (her wide-eyed naïveté aptly conveyed by Kazan). She seems to always say the wrong thing; in the circumstances, that could be deadly.
The hotel desk clerk, Mervyn (Sam Rockwell), out on bail for selling speed, appears entertained by it all. Rockwell plays him so matter-of-factly that you hardly question that, hoping for adventure, he’s sorry he was never in a high school massacre so he could be a hero. Or that he has a deep affection for a gibbon he visited at the zoo.
An invisible presence is Carmichael's mother, who we learn via a phone call has fallen out of a tree she was climbing to retrieve a balloon. Carmichael shifts between caring son-to-mother chat and cursing her when he discovers she's poked around in his room. Mother, by the way, is a racist and there are questions raised when Toby talks to her on the phone in an obvious black dialect because he is, well, black.
Asked if the hillbillies were black or white, Carmichael cracks, "You can’t get black hillbillies." You never can tell with a black comedy.
A Behanding in Spokane
Schoenfeld Theatre
236 West 45th Street
New York City, NY
(212) 239-6200
Opened March 4, 2010; closes June 6, 2010
http://www.behandinginspokane.com/
For more by Lucy Komisar: TheKomisarScoop.com
Photos: Joan Marcus
Digital Week 21: Stormy Europe
- Details
- Parent Category: Film and the Arts
- Category: Reviews
- Published on Thursday, 22 April 2010 05:00
- Written by Kevin Filipski
Summer Hours
(Criterion)
Olivier Assayas has directed a superior soap opera about a trio of French siblings who must decide whether to sell the family estate–famous paintings, antique furniture, and all–after their 75-year-old mother unexpectedly dies. Skillfully juggling his disparate characters (oldest brother, who’s most conservative; middle sister, a free spirit living in New York and engaged to an American; youngest brother, working with a shoe company in Shanghai, his wife and three kids in tow), Assayas gives us glimpses into their lives with a single line of dialogue or a brief shot of subtle body language or minute gestures. He even frames Summer Hours with sequences showing the next generation—these characters’ children and (at the end) their friends—and there’s something simultaneously touching and sad about their lack of knowledge about their own past (with one exception).
There’s seamless acting from Charles Berling, Juliette Binoche, and Jérémie Rénier as the siblings and Edith Scob as the benevolent family matriarch. On Blu-ray, Assayas’ subtle color palette is rendered with expert consistency—this is another in a long string of flawless Criterion high-def transfers. The usual plethora of superb Criterion extras includes Inventory, an hour-long documentary about the relationship of the Musee d’Orsay in Paris to the film’s making; on-set interviews with Assayas and his cast; and an Assayas interview.
DVD of the Week
Storm
(Film Movement)
In this harrowing drama directed by Hans-Christian Schmid, Kerry Fox persuasively plays a worn-out prosecutor at the International Criminal Tribunal in The Hague with a nearly impossible task: how to convict an obvious guilty Yugoslav commander of crimes against humanity when her hands are, literally, tied by the court? Schmid concentrates on the minutiae of the political backstabbing and dealing that occur in a supposed place of justice, and only rarely does he go all wobbly trying to turn this already harrowing story into a “thriller” that relies on near-accidents and strange disappearances.
Storm is an involving nail-biter, and complementing Fox’s terrific work is another spectacularly lived-in performance as a key witness by Anamaria Mancia, the actress so unforgettable in the Romanian abortion drama 4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days. As usual with Film Movement releases, the lone extra is a short film: from Germany, Toyland in 14 quick minutes asks still-pertinent questions about guilt and complicity.
