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'QUANTUM OF SOLACE'
PICKING UP POST VESPER
By Sean Chavel
“I think you are so blinded by inconsolable rage that you don't care who you hurt. When you can't tell your friends from your enemies, it's time to go” - M.
James Bond still has a mental list of unforgiven. Bond's rage is truly full-throttle in Quantum of Solace, the 22nd adventure in the 007 series, still reeling from the events of the last chapter's installment. Bond's ego was damaged by Vesper Lynd, the woman that betrayed him in "Casino Royale." He stubbornly disregards that she also loved him. Bond nevertheless wants to track the blackmailing evil-doers who sucked Vesper into her dishonorable conduct.
Such vengeance has to be put on hold. Bond (the indomitable Daniel Craig) has a new villain to track around the globe and his name is Dominic Greene (Mathieu Amalric, "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly"). Greene is a dishonest environmentalist with the intent to monopolize the economy in Boliva at the expense of precious natural resources. Yet it takes forever to understand this conspiracy with all its intricacies.
If not for the plot, then it's for Craig's spin on Bond that makes us perpetually care. When it comes to beating up bad guys while donning a tuxedo, nobody does it better than Craig's Bond. An avant-garde opera house is one of Bond's knockabout highlights. Not one to flinch, Craig even has a shirtless scene as well where his Hercules body is bloodies and bruised yet doesn't faze him. He's ready to kick ass or to love, particularly Agent Fields (Gemma Arterton) who eventually faces a similar fate of the babe smothered in gold in the third Bond movie "Goldfinger." Call it a nod to a Bond classic.
The central Bond babe however is Camille (Olga Kurylenko) who has a vendetta against another Bolivia baddie responsible for murdering her family. It's a tad disenchanting that there is less eroticism between Bond and Camille - their joined forces is more about respect than love. Also missing is all the clever rat-a-tat dialogue that existed between Bond and Vesper; the great seductive dialogue will not be found here. It's evident that Bond just doesn't have the time to fit in romance to his heavy schedule: we're bounced around to various Italy locales, Haiti, London, Austria, Russia, Bolivia - am I forgetting anywhere?
What Bond movie could do without stupendous action sequences? The opening pre-credit car chase through the hilly roads of Siena, Italy. A rope tangling from restoration rafters reminiscent of the cage battle in "Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome." An aerial dogfight about a rocky mountain desert. Yet the film's action deserves one demerit: A jaw-dropping awful speedboat fight with Bond dodging machine-gun bullets is as preposterous as anything in the worst Roger Moore Bonds.
Two out of place character reprisals from the last Bond installment and a bad theme song by Alicia Keys are other questionable additives. One of the essential core elements however is the non-stop bludgeoning by Bond, and when he kills somebody he shouldn't have and is framed for the death of another, British boss M (Judi Dench), suspends his double-O license. Not that James Bond cares. M (we finally learn what that moniker is short for) believes Bond needs to put his rage in check, but Bond is just being Bond, fulfilling his obligatory duty.
"Quantum of Solace" is a step down from "Casino Royale" where the Czech Republic served as perhaps the most glamorous backdrop of any Bond adventure, not to mention Venice, Italy, but the glamour is lessened this time - we're stuck in the dirty, dusty Bolivia in the last thirty minutes. Quite a difference in scenery, "Quantum" is less pleasurable eye candy. And less coherent: a climactic explosion is neat-0 (0) (7) but the frenetic editing doesn't allow you to really see how Bond set off the explosion.
As you may notice, I haven't really said much about villain Dominic Greene. Almaric's performance is gleaming in his schizoid squirminess, but while the performance is brilliant it's odd that the villain is not the greatest we've ever had. We never get into the evil-genius inner workings of his schemes. Another catchy performance: Jeffrey Wright's return as CIA operative Felix Leiter.
Whatever letdowns, any true 007 fan must see his movie and God knows there are nearly a billion fans worldwide. Before James Bond got an image make-over with Daniel Craig, it didn't matter what order you watched the Bond movies. The Bond movies are now sequential, and even though this "Quantum" chapter often feels like a transient chapter, it will certainly bridge to the next future installment that will likely somehow depend on the events of this film. You got to catch every minute from hereon out. As the series will continue to flourish, I predict one haunting word will continue to rake Bond's senses: Vesper. The inconsolable rage lives on.
'REPO! THE GENETIC OPERA'
WORST FILM OF 2008
By Sean Chavel
Combine blood and guts and rock opera on acid and lots of concentrated depravity and you have Repo! The Genetic Opera. This is a movie enamored with its own filth, its own disgust for mankind. Characters are murderous nihilists with no shred of human conscience. Because this is a movie musical with the proposed symbiosis aesthetics of Charles Manson and Metallica it's more into evisceration of human flesh than just plain murder.
Of course no viewer with ordinary human feeling will find any of this fun. I suppose the filmmaker's objective is to shock you with its rampant carnage and grotesqueness as a way to provoke you. I guess you're cool if you can tolerate and withstand such ugliness. The film is the brainchild of Darren Lynn Bousman, the director of "Saw II" thru "Saw IV." As a technical craftsman he is skilled but in regards to taste he is an idiot.
Though he is not that thoughtful as a craftsman either now that I think about it. Bousman floods his scenes with garish lighting to a degree that it is so over-stylized the viewer doesn't know whether to draw the eye to the character or to a particular object - everything on screen is so saturated than any central idea by the director is neutralized. A viewer anyway can't be engaged in such an incoherent and rotten story. Good movies engage us because we like to anticipate what is coming next or what we hope is coming next for the characters. "Repo" makes next to know sense in whatever its conceptual idea is that you can't even guess what you'd like to see next. You can only hope it's over real soon. All ideas are thrown out the window. It's only nihilism on-screen, nothing else.
So imagine a rock opera, I mean, death metal musical with non-stop bad lyrics filmed in the fashion of the "Saw" movies. In terms of the set-up, the year is 2056 and GeneCo is a biotech company that offers organ transplants with finance payments available. Unable to pay, Repo Men hunt you and carve up your organs to return to the corporation with Paul Sorvino as the corporate big cheese. What the hell is Paul Sorvino from "GoodFellas" doing in this movie? Sorvino has a legacy of starring in "GoodFellas," one of the greatest movies ever made, and he's tarnished his image with this dreck?
Alexa Vega is the angry teen that hates her Repo Man daddy, and Paris Hilton is some kind of Genetic Opera Star. Whatever. I could use my film scholar memory to say that "Repo" is the worst musical made since the bizarro 1980's "The Apple," but actually, "Repo" is the worst movie musical I've ever seen. Period. And its worst than just that. It's a depressing experience that left my mind polluted with evil images. It's left me to believe that Darren Lynn Bousman is the most diseased mind in Hollywood.
'SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE'
RAGS TO RICHES
By Sean Chavel
Impoverished life in Mumbai, India is dog eat dog. According to social anthropology it is the most populous metropolitan city in the world with thirteen million people, where poverty is so pervasive that 54% of the population lives in shantytowns and survival depends on bartering, stealing and sometimes murder for self-gain. In such an environment is it possible for an inspirational life? Director Danny Boyle has taken some potentially grim and mirthless material and triumphantly directed it like a rip-roaring action movie spurred with lightening pacing as it traces one remarkable boy with an unbreakable determination. Slumdog Millionaire isn't really an action movie but it has the drive and ferocity of the best of them. It is a triumph in larger-than-life storytelling and a rousing adventure of the spirit.
The deck is stacked high against Jamel whom we see orphaned since childhood following the brutal death of his mother, exploited by would-be guardians whose occupation is in human trafficking, left adrift as a street urchin forced to survive on his own through means of petty theft and scams. Jamel is constantly running from gangsters or authorities. Jamel is a survivalist conditioned to watch his own back, but has outreach of love for one person. Latika is the girl whom he rescues early and continually tries to rescue again. By the time Latika is a mistress in possession of a brutal gangster, she has resigned to her fate. But Jamel never gives up.
Jamel's dream is to earn enough money to whisk away his dreamgirl. Jamel and Latika are played by various actors and actresses, but the older versions of them are played by Dev Patel and Freida Pinto respectively. Patel and Pinto play their characters at the end of childhood and at the dawn of not only adulthood, but at the threshold of desperation. Jamel has the faith that there is always a last chance to improve their lives. From the start, "Slumdog Millionaire" uses a flashback structure of Jamel appearing on India's game show version of "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" Yes, it's the same show as seen in America.
Appearing on the game show is more of an opportunity for Jamel to get Latika's attention (it's her favorite show) than it is to win money. The questions are reasonably tough and ascending in difficulty, but the film jumps back in time to show how Jamel's street smart education enabled him to answer such daunting questions. Will he go all the way?
Due to Jamel's insolvent background and lack of formal education, authorities believe he is somehow cheating and he is inexorably interrogated in-between the taping just a couple of questions away from taking the ultimate prize. We are uncertain if Jamel will be allowed to return to the show, but India cheers on. We get a suspenseful game show drama that is equal to all parallel dramas that includes Jamel's boyhood friend who is a drug runner now reformed to assist in goodwill and Latika's newly inspired efforts to break her way to freedom. The drama merges than increasingly escalates, lending excitement for audience desire to see Jamel and Latika to break free to their own road to happiness.
I feel compelled to mention that at about the three-quarter mark a scene takes place that I'll never forget. I've rarely been thrown so off-guard, and outsmarted, by a protagonist who makes a shrewder and better "street smart" decision than I would have made. My heart leapt enormously during those moments, it took several minutes for my emotions to get grounded again. It's impossible for me to explain the scene without giving it away, I can only assure you the enthusiasm of my emotion. Let's just say that Jamel's gut instincts are smart enough to dodge the offerings of a false Samaritan. Must be that Jamel's lifetime of wariness, vigilance and guardedness influenced a sound decision.
This is a movie without a doubt that looks at the lower depths of poverty, the eruption of urban violence, the wastes of young life. The movie doesn't dwell on misery, it only starts there, as the film inspirationally builds upon the self-actualization and triumph of its hero. The film is like the blaze and bloodshed of "City of God" crossed with the underdog uplift of the "Rocky" formula. With a little Bollywood thrown in byway of a surprisingly flamboyantly but appropriately timed musical sequence.
The film is partially in Bengali with English subtitles, but the subtitles are terse - director Boyle knowingly opts for a purely visual story that depends on less frequent dialogue. The game show episodes, and most of the second half that is more dialogue-dependent, is predominately English. The film's appeal however should be ever-growing, which shouldn't be a problem. This is the second film in a row that I've loved by Danny Boyle following last year's science-fiction adventure "Sunshine." Like I said, I'm not going to forget this one. Ever.
'ROLE MODELS'
SOUTHLAND BIG BROTHERS
By Sean Chavel
Role Models is the story of two older guys who are basically goofballs. Irres-ponsible and accountable, Wheeler (Seann William Scott) and Danny (Paul Rudd) look out for themselves and only themselves. So when they are sentenced to 150 hours of a Big Brother service they will not be grown-up to handle the kids they are supposed to mentor.
Both of these dudes work for a Minotaur energy drink company - they go to high schools to tell kids to stay off drugs and drink their product. That was before they got in trouble. Now every waking day has Wheeler caring for a 12-year old potty mouth (Bobb'e J. Thompson) speaking in the kind of raunch-speak only a person retired from puberty would understand, and Danny caring for a sword and sorcery nerd (Christopher Mintz-Plasse, from "Superbad.") Both Wheeler and Danny search for ways to get the attention of their little bros.
This is hardly a cinematic movie - it's more like a sitcom you find on Comedy Central on a Saturday afternoon that just happens to have a little more (brief) nudity added with at least one actress going topless. Yes, aside from babysitting, Wheeler has time to take a time-out with a Big Sis. Anyway, what's at least partially funny is Wheeler waking up hung-over nude and on his stomach on the grounds of a camping retreat.
When it comes to Danny, he's still hung-up about the ex that threw him out. The ex is played by the dependably zesty Elizabeth Banks ("The 40 Year Old Virgin," "W."), but she has her thinnest role yet. That's the B-story. Back to the A-story. In the A-story, Wheeler and Danny begin to learn the meaning of adult commitment and their appropriated roles as compassionate guardians. They also try to teach a thing or two to their little bro's parents who are clueless about what their kids are really going through.
By the end, the verdict is still out on Wheeler but Danny has gone from disaffected to smartass adult to conscientious adult. Yet, within the details, the film would rather not think too hard on its own. As a measure of the script's unoriginal wit, Danny recites dialogue from "Jerry Maguire" to win back his ex-flame's heart. The rest of the film has lewdness and vulgarity aplenty, but it's so recycled from other gross-out comedies that it's not memorable anyway. The one truly chuckle-filled sequence is a Battle Royale played out at the park where various knights' tables engage into simulated war. Ken Jeong plays the haughty king who demands all his subordinates bow to his every whim. Jeong has the chutzpah to raise the tempo of even a bad movie even if it is just for a few moments.
'SOUL MEN'
MAC'S LAST HURRAH
By Sean Chavel
Soul Men is simultaneously not a very good movie and yet a touching experience, due only to it being Bernie Mac's last movie (he passed away in August of this year). Though its quality and lack of originality is questionable, it's not a sour or unpleasant movie to watch not unless you are totally turned off by blasphemy. What is amusing about Mac's characters, all of his characters, was that he is always a foul character trying to be composed and polite and good but keeps getting tripped up by belligerent guys that provoke him to blow steam off his whistle.
This is the only film that Bernie Mac shares the screen with Samuel L. Jackson, another badass always ready to erupt into a tirade of tasty insults when provoked. These two are playing Soul Music legends Floyd Henderson and Louis Hinds, two swinging studs from the '70's that after their meteoric rise found their careers washed out because of their clashing egos. Floyd resigned to a fruitful but dull retirement and Louis is a mechanic wallowing away in a lowly tenement. After their former comrade Marcus Hooks (John Legend) passes away, Floyd and Louis agree to perform in a reunion performance at the Apollo Theater in New York.
Unfortunately, after a nimble and giddy start, "Soul Men" descends to a formulaic road trip movie. The script wants to make sure it covers all the bases: flat tire on the road, crazy women falling for them, money swiped from their wallets, mishandling of a firearm, getting thrown in jail, etc. "Soul Men" makes some decent stops whenever Mac and Jackson go on stage in a second-rate nightclub to practice their routine for the impending Apollo Theater performance. That stuff is fun. But the movie hits the pits all too often with unnecessary detours and stymied setbacks.
Mac and Jackson always strut their stuff when they can, which proves they're cooler with their swagger than with some of the dialogue they speak. Their improvisational riffs do contain some stiff potent jabs but it's all too forced when they are literally going after sucker-punches. You've seen it before. Two Grumpy Old Men, ahem, Two Cool Cats, love each other, then hate each other, then punch each other, then love each other again. Mac gets assigned the pivotal pep speech when the movie demands it subsequent to the rousing finale.
It must be almost ordained that a Bernie Mac movie is saddled with dumb complications just so Mac could give one of his patented "You've Got To Be Kidding Me Looks" which seemed so fitting on him. Mac was an original even though the scripts he made were predictable. If Mac had lived to make a few more movies, perhaps he would have gotten another character like the one he played in "Bad Santa" where he was the boss of the bottom line and everyone else was beneath the line. That was Mac's ultimate power when given a role like that one, and certainly he wasn't tapped the opportunity as often as he should have been.