Swordfish tries so hard to be cool, and save for a few moments of smirking silliness, it is pretty goddamned cool. The early 2000’s still carried lingering, reminiscent elements of the 90’s, the super cyber hacker archetype included. The cyber hacker is played by two types of people: basement dwelling, Mountain Dew drinking chatter boxes and virile, sexy supermodels. The latter is employed here, personified by Hugh Jackman as Stanley, a sly devil who can hack into almost anything effortlessly, but has been caught and never allowed to touch a computer again. Enter Gabriel (John Travolta), a silver tongued arch villain out to steal all the money and priceless artifacts he can hope to ever own. Although Travolta isn’t as truly off the rails as in some of his villain roles, the amiable charm he puts forth here is but a ruse to cloud the monster beneath. He’s a very bad man, putting Stanley’s loved ones in jeopardy and forcing him to work computer wizardry for ill gotten riches. Gabriel has a girlfriend named Ginger (Halle Berry, never sexier) who walks a moral tightrope between the two alpha males, torn between roguish indifference and and her conscience. Stanley is also hounded by an FBI Agent (Don Cheadle), with whom he has a tumultuous past. The film resists goin completely by the motions, lulling you just to the border of entropy and then throwing something surprising from a direction you didn’t look in. My favourite scene of the film shows Travolta giving a monologue on bank robbery etiquette, complete with a reference to Sydney Lumet’s Dog Day Afternoon, confirming the fact that this flick has a strong script to go with its pyrotechnics. He flexes his sonic directorial muscles in an especially extraordinary action sequence involving a bus and a helicopter that will seriously make your finger hover over the replay button. Vinnie Jones is an ambassador of cool, in a lively turn as Gabriel’s head thug. Sam Shepherd has fun as a corrupt Senator. There’s also fine work from Zachary Grenier, Tim Dekay, William Mapother, Rudolph Martin and Drea De Matteo. Director Dominic Sena comes from music video land, having also helmed the priceless Nic Cage Bruckheimer-fest Gone in 60 Seconds, as well as the fallout brilliant psycho road thriller Kalifornia. Here he doses the flash and sizzle of 60 seconds with the hard hitting violence of Kalifornia, presented in a story guaranteed to raise a pulse. It’s also got pretty much the coolest poster of 2001. I dare you to find a cooler one, go ahead. Oh, and Travolta’s manscaping here deserves its own spinoff film.
Category: Film Review
OCEAN’S ELEVEN – A REVIEW BY J.D. LAFRANCE

“Ocean’s Eleven was my opportunity to make a movie that has no desire except to give you pleasure, where you surrender without embarrassment or regret.” – Steven Soderbergh
Fresh from the one-two success of Erin Brockovich (2000) and Traffic (2000), Steven Soderbergh made a conscious decision to shift gears and make a purely entertaining film for a major studio. He managed to convince movie stars George Clooney (whom he had already worked with on Out of Sight) and Brad Pitt to take major cuts in their multi-million dollar salaries and headline a remake of the Rat Pack heist film Ocean’s Eleven (1960). With Clooney and Pitt on board, Soderbergh was then able to get an impressive cast including the likes of Matt Damon and Julia Roberts (both of whom also agreed to take pay cuts) and avoid having his film come across as nothing more than a vanity project for a bunch of smug movie stars. On the contrary, Ocean’s Eleven (2001) is a slick heist film in the tradition of The Sting (1973) in the sense that you know the outcome (the good guys win) but the fun is in how they get there as Soderbergh utilizes every stylish technique that he has available at his disposal.
Daniel Ocean (Clooney) has just been released from prison and is eager to return to his high-end criminal enterprises. He sets his sights on Las Vegas with plans to rob three prestigious casinos: the MGM Grand, the Mirage, and the Bellagio, all of which keep their considerable sums of money in an ultra-secure hi-tech vault controlled by Terry Benedict (Andy Garcia) who, incidentally, is currently dating Danny’s ex-wife Tess (Roberts). It’s not going to be easy and so, with the help of his good friend and ace fixer Rusty Ryan (Pitt), they recruit nine experts to help them pull off a near-impossible heist. In addition to the heist, which serves as the main plot, Ted Griffin’s screenplay expertly weaves in a subplot involving Danny attempt to reconnect with Tess.
This film oozes cool right from the opening credits that play over a fantastic shot of the Atlantic City skyline at night accompanied by funky trip-hop type music by Northern Irish disc jockey David Holmes. We meet Rusty wasting his time teaching young movie stars (Holly Marie Combs and Topher Grace among others making fun of themselves) to play cards. We meet him in Hollywood with a cool groove playing over his establishing shot. This sequence is a bit of meta fun as we see Pitt, one of the biggest movie stars on the planet, teaching other movie stars playing a parody of themselves being totally clueless at playing poker only to eventually be hustled by a bemused Danny. Soderbergh even slides in a few sly inside jokes, like Danny asking Topher Grace if it’s hard to make the transition from television to film, which, of course, is exactly what Clooney did. Or, how Grace gets mobbed by autograph hounds while Clooney and Pitt are completely ignored.
One of the best sequences in the film is when Danny and Rusty recruit their crew. The scene where they convince Reuben Tishkoff (Elliott Gould) to bankroll their operation is a wonderful example of how expositional dialogue being delivered in the right way by the right actor can be entertaining and informative as Elliott Gould does a fantastic job of warning Danny and Rusty of just how dangerous Benedict is. From there, each character that Danny and Rusty approach is given their own introduction that briefly and succinctly highlights their unique skill and distinctive personality traits. Linus Caldwell (Damon) is an up-and-coming pickpocket with uncanny dexterity. There’s the Malloy brothers, Virgil (Casey Affleck) and Turk (Scott Caan), two drivers by trade with one of them having an affinity for remote controlled devices and a perchance for bickering and irritating each other, which provides a good source of humor. Livingston Dell (Eddie Jemison) is an electronics expert in the area of surveillance. Basher Tarr (Don Cheadle) is a demolitions expert with Don Cheadle sporting an obviously exaggerated Cockney accent. Yen (Shaobo Qin) is a diminutive top-of-the-line acrobat that can get in and out of any tight space. Finally, there is Saul Bloom (Carl Reiner), a retired flimflam man coaxed back into action by Rusty. Each actor is given at least one scene, often more, to come front and center and do their thing and this is done in a way that doesn’t distract you from the story at hand, which is quite an accomplishment with such a large cast.
David Holmes expertly mixes jazz, funk, soul and hip hop in a way that evokes groovy trip hop or acid jazz but in a retro way that evokes Quincy Jones circa the 1970s. The often-fat bass lines give certain musical cues a confident swagger. There is also plenty of Hammond organ and vibraphone looped to give a lounge-y kind of vibe at times. Later on in the film, Holmes brings in strings and brass to accentuate the romantic subplot between Danny and Tess. Holmes also incorporates songs, like Elvis Presley’s “A Little Less Conversation” to fantastic effect. This came out of watching the original Ocean’s Eleven as Holmes explained in an interview, “Then I tried to think of ways to identify with what was going on – with it being a contemporary film, how to be original, but set within the heart of Las Vegas. Which is where the Elvis song ‘A Little Less Conversation’ came about, because obviously Elvis had a really strong affiliation with Las Vegas, and that track has a very contemporary feel.”
Steven Soderbergh read Ted Griffin’s screenplay in an afternoon in January 2000. The next day he called producer Jerry Weintraub and told him he wanted to direct the film. What he liked about the script was that it didn’t evoke the original 1960 version but “had this one foot back in the heyday of the studio star-driven movie, like Howard Hawks or George Cukor.” Soderbergh had always been drawn to heist films because, “the conflicts are so clear and dramatic. This seemed to be everything that you want a big Hollywood film to be, on the script level.” He had just made two dramas – Erin Brockovich and Traffic – and wanted to make a fun movie. To prepare for shooting Ocean’s Eleven, he watched Ghostbusters (1984) because he was impressed at “that sort of physical scale [that] feels so tossed-off, with such understated performances and obvious generosity among all the performers.” He also studied films by David Fincher, Steven Spielberg and John McTiernan because they knew how to “orchestrate physical action the way I like to see it.” He looked at how these filmmakers used lens length and height, camera movement and editing, as well as, “how they used their extras, how they structured movements within shots that carried you to the next movement and the next.”
Soderbergh got George Clooney involved and half-jokingly told him, “let’s make it an Irwin Allen movie, where they used to have 10 stars.” Originally, the director considered casting Luke and Owen Wilson, Bruce Willis, and Ralph Fiennes as the villain. Once Clooney was on board, they got the rest of the cast to commit at radically reduced rates, starting with Brad Pitt. However, during filming, the cast stayed in their own 7,000-square-foot villas at the Bellagio. Before shooting, Soderbergh told his cast, “Show up ready to work. If you think you’re just going to walk through this, you’re mistaken. If anybody gets smug, we’re dead.” Soderbergh wanted to shoot in the Bellagio, the MGM Grand and the Mirage – an impossible feat for more mere mortals; however, Weintraub had the connections and the clout to make it happen. The production was allowed to shoot on the floor of the casinos during the day, which nobody is given access to and the casino bosses even shut down entire pits for Soderbergh to shoot in. This allowed the director to design shots that were complicated and large in scale.
Soderbergh wanted the lighting for Ocean’s Eleven to be based in reality and to look like it wasn’t lit at all – not a problem in Las Vegas, a place overloaded with every kind of light imaginable. At times, Soderbergh would add some color to enhance the mood for dramatic purposes in order to put the audience inside the world of the film. He also realized that the locations played a large part in the plot and was interested in showing as much of the environment as possible. One challenge Soderbergh faced was the logistics of filming big dialogue scenes with Danny and his crew in a visually interested way. He had a lot of people in confined spaces and didn’t want these scenes to be boring. So, he attempted to frame shots that clearly established where everyone was while also giving them enough depth and geometry to make the characters interesting to look at.
In a nice touch, Ocean’s Eleven never waxes nostalgic about the original film but instead is wistful about Las Vegas as it was in the 1960s when the casinos were still run by the Mob and had yet to be corporatized and Disney-fied. This is reinforced in one of the motivations Danny has of robbing Benedict. It’s not just that he’s dating his ex-wife but Benedict also recently demolished one of the last old school casinos left in Vegas. Unlike Benedict, Danny respects the past and recruits Reuben and Saul, veteran con artists whose heyday was the ‘60s. It’s great to see Soderbergh giving actors like Gould and Reiner screen-time in a major studio film. These guys don’t work nearly enough and their performances in Ocean’s Eleven are a potent reminder of how good they can be if given the right material and the opportunity. Entrusted with only his second major studio film with an A-list budget, Soderbergh effortlessly orchestrates a fun, engaging popcorn movie like an old pro that has been doing this for their entire career.
PETER BERG’S FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS — A REVIEW BY NICK CLEMENT

Peter Berg’s Friday Night Lights is the football picture as if it were a combat film. These high school gridiron warriors are like battle-ready troops, ready to sacrifice it all in the name of glory. This is one of the best sports movies ever made, totally riveting, just as well done in the small details as it is in the grand scope of the sport and the society that it’s reflecting. Billy Bob Thornton beautifully underplayed the role of Head Coach, letting the colorful characters that make up the Permian Panthers do the heavy lifting in terms of dramatic consequence, though he’s not without his moments of explosive fury or deep introspection. Berg’s semi-regular cinematographer Tobias Schliessler shot the hell out of this movie, opting for a washed out color palette to match his gritty yet slick aesthetic; the film also has some of the best choreographed football action ever put on film. And true to the real-life story that this film covers, in the end, it’s not about winning and losing, but about putting it all out there in everything that you do, and picking up the pieces if it doesn’t land your way, always ready for the next challenge. The musical score by Explosions in the Sky is transcendent, all of the young actors and actresses nail their roles on and off the field, and the dialogue by co-scripters Berg and David Aaron Cohen has a believable quality that rings true at every moment. Fantastic production design and engrossing editing round out the tech package. When it comes to sports films, I hold this one in extra-high regard. Berg’s cousin H.G. Bissinger wrote the best selling book that the film is based on. Friday Night Lights would become a respectable box office grosser, and would be followed by one of the most critically acclaimed and dramatically involving TV shows of all time.
The Red Riding Trilogy: A Review by Nate Hill
The Red Riding Trilogy is one of the most dense, absolutely impenetrable pieces of work I’ve ever seen, let alone attempted to dissect with my clunky writing skills. It’s also fairly horrifying, as it chronicles the tale of the Yorkshire Ripper, an elusive and mysterious serial child killer who terrorized this area of Britain through the late 70’s and early 80’s. Viler still are the strong implications that very powerful people, including the brass of the West Yorkshire police, made every disgusting attempt to cover up the crimes and protect the killer, who’s murders included that of children. It’s a brave move by UK’s Channel 4 to openly make such notions obvious within their story, and commendable the level of patience, skill and strong ambition in the undertaking is quite the payoff, whilst simultaneously taking a toll on you for sitting through it. The sheer scope of it must be noted; it’s separated into three feature length films, each vastly different in setting, character and tone, and each blessed with a different director. The filmmakers even went as far as to film the first, which is set in 1974, in 16mm, the second in 35mm being set in 1980 and the third makes a leap to high definition video and takes place in 1983. Such a progression of time is a dismal reflection of the sticky corruption which clings to societies, decaying them stealthily over years, and the few keen individuals who will not let the truth die as long as there is a glimmer of uncertainty. Now, if you asked me exactly what happens over the course of this trilogy, who is who, what has happened to which characters and who is guilty, I simply wouldn’t be able to tell you. It’s a deliberatly fractured narrative told through the prism of dishonest, corrupt psyches and has no use for chronology either. Characters who you saw die in the first film show up in the subsequent ones, actors replace each other in certain roles, and there’s just such a thick atmosphere of confusion and despair that in the 302 minute running time I was not able to make complete sense. I think this is a great tactic to help you realize that the film means to show the futile, cyclical nature of reality, as opposed to a traditionally structured story with a clear cut conclusion. Events spiral into each other with little rhyme or reason, until we feel somewhat lost, knowing full well that terrible events are unfolding in front of our eyes, events that are clouded and just out of our comprehensive grasp in a way that unsettles you and makes you feel as helpless as the few decent people trying to solve the case. One such person is an investigative reporter searching for the truth in the first film, played by Andrew Garfield. He stumbles dangerously close to answers which are promptly yanked away by the sinister forces of the Yorkshire police, brutalized and intimidated into submission. He comes close though, finding a lead in suspiciously sleazy real estate tycoon Sean Bean, who’s clearly got ties to whatever is really going on. The level of willful corruption demonstrated by the police is sickening. “To the North, where we do what we want” bellows a chief, toasting dark secrets to a roomful of cop comrades who are no doubt just as involved as him. The kind of blunt, uncaring dedication to evil is the only way to explain such behaviour, because in the end it’s their choice and they know what they’re doing. Were these officers as vile as the film depicts in the real life incidents? Someone seems to think so. Who’s to know? Probably no one ever at this point, a dreadful feeling which perpetuates the themes of hopelessness. The second film follows a nasty Police Chief (David Morrissey) who is bothered by old facts re emerging and seems to have a crisis of conscience. Or does he? The clichéd cinematic logline “no one is what they seem” has never been more pertinent than in these three films. It’s gets to a point where you actually are anticipating every single person onscreen to have some buried evil that will get upturned. A priest (Peter Mullan is superb) shows up in the second film only to be involved in dark turns of the third. Sean Bean’s character and his legacy hover over everything like a black cloud. A mentally challenged young man is held for years under suspicion of being the Ripper. A disturbed abuse survivor (wild eyed Robert Sheehan) seeks retribution. A Scotland Yard Detective (Paddy Considine) nobly reaches for truth. Many other characters have conundrums of roles to play in a titanic cast that includes Cara Seymour, Mark Addy, Sean Harris, James Fox, Eddie Marsan, Shaun Dooley, Joseph Mawle and more. The process in which the story unfolds is almost Fincher – esque in its meticulous assembly, each character and plot turn a cog in a vast machine whose purpouse and ultimate function are indeed hard to grasp. I need to sit down and watch it at least two more times through before the cogs turn in a way that begins to make sense to me, and a measurable story unfolds. It’s dark, dark stuff though, presenting humanity at its absolute worst, and in huge quantities too, nightmarish acts that go to huge levels of effort just to produce evil for.. well, it seems just for evil’s sake, really. The cast and filmmakers craft wonderful work though, and despite the blackness there is a macabre, almost poetic allure to it, beauty in terror so to speak. It’s rough, it’s long, it’s dense and it thoroughly bucks many a cinematic trend that let’s you reside in your perceptive comfort zone, beckoning you forth with extreme narrative challenge, an unflinching gaze into the abyss no promise of catharsis at the end of the tunnel. There’s nothing quite like it, I promise you.
PTS PRESENTS: 10 QUESTIONS WITH FILMMAKER JOHN CARNEY

Podcasting Them Softly is excited to present our latest 10 QUESTIONS INTERVIEW with the fantastic filmmaker John Carney (Once, Begin Again, the upcoming Sing Street). He chatted with Nick about the importance of independent cinema, the current state of affairs in Ireland within their blossoming film community, and what inspires his creative process. Look for his new film, Sing Street, in theaters this spring! We hope you enjoy!

HOW DID THE SUCCESS OF ONCE CHANGE YOUR CAREER?
It had a huge impact. I didn’t have a career before Sundance accepted Once. I had a camcorder, some filmmaking and actor friends, and a hunk of debt! I don’t see how an Irish filmmaker can have a “career” without endorsement from elsewhere, Europe or America.

HOW DID ONCE PREPARE YOU FOR BEGIN AGAIN?
It didn’t at all! I just made Begin Again with the same attitude as I did Once. I just show up to set as late as I possibly can and hope the day offers up some surprises. This, I think, shocked some American crew members, not to mention some British actresses!

CAN YOU DESCRIBE YOUR CREATIVE PROCESS?
I write the scripts and score, and develop the songs in all my films, so the preparation is in that. This happens months, sometimes years before. After that I just show up as late as I can to set and do as little as I can get away with. Preparation is in what you have for dinner the night before shooting, what you read, and what you watch.

WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE PART OF PUTTING A FILM TOGETHER?
The laughs you have while casting the actors. Any work comes ages before shooting. Shooting is fun. If it isn’t, I think the audience knows.

HOW DID SING STREET COME ABOUT?
It happened on an underground train in London. I was looking at a schoolboy carrying a guitar and remembering that feeling of breaking out of school and heading to your friend’s house for band practice. The bully is after you, the teacher is on your case, your parents are being assholes, you’ve got no money, no girlfriend, and you’re never more alive. I thought, that would make a nice scene, and took it from there.

WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON THE CURRENT IRISH INDEPENDENT CINEMA SCENE?
I’m excited if it gives people jobs. Ireland is really more like a city. It’s tiny. And it’s hard to sustain an industry. Thankfully we have state subsidy, which hopefully this interest in Irish filmmakers will help to sustain. But we need to cast Irish actors! Actors are still really struggling in Ireland.

WHICH FILMMAKERS HAVE YOU LOOKED TO FOR INSPIRATION?
John Ford was good.

HOW EXCITED ARE YOU ABOUT ALL OF THE RECENT IRISH TALENT TO FIND TRACTION IN HOLLYWOOD?
I don’t see it any different as before. Some Irish directors are certainly doing very well. But I’m glad I got in there before this new “wave.”

WHAT’S THE HARDEST PART OF THE CREATIVE PROCESS
Writing stories is the hardest part about making films. I mean creating new stories. Finding something new to tell, that’s what drives me.

CREATIVELY, DO YOU FIND YOURSELF ATTRACTED TO “IRISH STORIES?”
Are there actually any “new” stories? I think bad filmmakers are always looking for new stories. But the fact might be that the world has been spinning for so long that everything has pretty much been written. I mean, how original was Once? Boy meets girl. Ships in the night. The end. The original part was the tone, the songs, the casting. And that can all have an “Irish” feel, but Irish stories? I’m not so sure. Good films, I think, stem from the minutiae of your detailing and the universality of your story.

Joel Copling’s Top Ten Revisited: 2014 Edition–Films #9 and #10
Hindsight can shift one’s view of one’s favorite films from a given calendar year quite a lot. So the idea is pretty simple: How would my top ten of 2014 look right now? For the next five days, I will be pick two films per day that might make up my list of the best ten films I saw from that year (and will be doing this for each previous year in the coming month).
10.) THE LEGO MOVIE (directed by Phil Lord and Christopher Miller)
Creative potential is when our heroes venture to a land of brightly colored, delightful beings and structures called Cloud Cuckooland. Creative follow-through is when that trip becomes an excuse to see LEGO likenesses of Michelangelo the painter and Michelangelo the teenage mutant ninja turtle, Dumbledore and Gandalf, the members of the 2002 NBA All-Stars and the Sixteenth United States President on a rocket-engine version of his statue’s chair, and, of course, a pirate that boasts a shark for an arm. It’s clear that writing/directing duo Phil Lord and Christopher Miller’s modus operandi when it came to the The LEGO Movie was to approach the titular, block-shaped toys with a childlike innocence. That’s without reckoning the film’s surprising amount of heart and a genuinely innovative visual style that mimics stop-motion animation.
9.) IDA (directed by Pawel Pawlikowski)
Co-writer/director Pawel Pawlikowski’s quiet but highly effective study of the divide, sometimes blurry, between rigor and liberty personifies itself in our heroine’s story. She has moved from the strict patterns of a convent to the looser pleasures of her aunt’s apartment, along the way severing the ties of her former life for one that must grow accustomed to outside life. But that’s too simple for Pawlikowski and co-screenwriter Rebecca Lenkiewicz, whose characters (greatly aided by performances from Agata Kulesza and Agata Trzebuchowska) are complex and revealing in more than one way. Rarely before has the literal act of a young woman letting down her hair so subtly revealed truths about that woman. Reminding of a modern-day Bergman effort and sporting some truly striking, black-and-white photography, Ida is one that sneaks up on the viewer.
BATMAN V SUPERMAN: DAWN OF JUSTICE–A REVIEW BY TIM FUGLEI

Joss Whedon and Zack Snyder are endlessly different auteurs, but I feel like the pair should share a cup of coffee soon, perhaps a hug or two while they’re at it. There aren’t many humans on the planet who have been charged with launching and maintaining massive cinematic empires based on well known comic book superheroes, and the pressure to not only land a billion dollar big fish in the studio boat but set sail for a five to ten year plan of interconnected blockbuster releases can be nothing short of isolating. When Whedon stuck the critical, audience and box office landings with The Avengers, he was immediately drafted into the Marvel Studio army to oversee the next “phase” of their media empire (i.e. ghost write on three films and create a television pilot) and of course make a sequel that could best the success of his previous film, merely one of the Top 5 box office champions of all time. Snyder, on the other hand, found much more mixed results with Man Of Steel, Time Warner/DC’s attempt to launch a parallel universe with their own well known and beloved characters. It made money but didn’t garner the broad acceptance and confidence that the studio hoped it would, although to be fair, Warner Brothers has clumsily juggled two of the most popular characters in comic book history for several decades now. Whedon went on to pour his heart and sensibility into Avengers: Age Of Ultron, which made huge piles of cash but left the internet sourly arguing its merits or lack thereof, and now Snyder is faced with similar angry cybermobs as Batman V Superman: Dawn Of Justice hits theaters this weekend. The number of levels at which an audience can find fault with this kind of exercise is almost unlimited, but Snyder, much like Whedon, has poured his soul into the exercise and come up with an epic, challenging and entertaining film.
As if helming a film called Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice wasn’t daunting enough for the director, he and writers David Goyer and Chris Terrio get to retell the origin story of Bruce Wayne, one that has literally been told almost countless times on screens large and small. Snyder wisely dives right in, crafting one of his signature slow motion montages filled with pristine imagery in a wordless opening credit sequence that properly sets the stage for the smoldering rage of Ben Affleck’s very Dark Knight, scored with devastating beauty by Hans Zimmer. Then we’re transported to Metropolis as Superman and General Zod waged their destructive day long war, but we now see the events from the angle of Bruce Wayne, who finds himself almost completely helpless in trying to rescue his employees from one of many collapsing buildings. As if the Batman wasn’t already a walking, breathing grudge, the anger he now feels for these godlike aliens is etched across his face in almost every shot of the film and echoed through his wholly uneasy dreams. Affleck’s lantern jaw and frequently unsung acting chops have rarely been put to better use—he’s the first Batman we’ve seen who, in keeping with many iconic iterations of the character from the comic books, is a perpetual rage engine, always fighting the feeling of helplessness that was imprinted on his soul the night his parents died with an angry grimace and an eager fist.

At this point, and certainly from some of the marketing, one would think this isn’t a true sequel to Man Of Steel; far from it, I’d argue that this is one of the finest Superman films to date. The questions raised by his seemingly limitless abilities and complete lack of oversight from any authority flow from the first act of the movie through the finale, and the consequences of wielding such power are explored not only through his conflict with Batman but via the truly mad yet thorough schemes of Alexander Luthor, played with cunning charm and more than a hint of barely contained insanity by Jesse Eisenberg. Henry Cavill, sporting an impressive jawline himself, continues to bring grace to a young, evolving Superman, starting the film as a bedrock of confidence bordering on cockiness but soon finding himself put through many degrading tests and sacrifices by the time the closing credits crawl. Each new challenge to his invulnerable physique and seemingly unimpeachable mission chips away at the Man of Steel like no other film has ever dared to, and it’s something of a marvel to behold.
I’d be remiss to leave out mention of Wonder Woman, although her crowd pleasing action beats of the third act and a bit of cat and mouse with Bruce Wayne in the early going are fun but ultimately slight. Back to the laundry list of world building Snyder was handed by the studio, we are also given quick introductions to several other iconic DC characters, which starts to make the whole endeavor feel a bit wobbly on its narrative axis but fortunately doesn’t tip it over. It’s no secret that this director is divisive; I’ve found his career thus far to be a mixed bag, and despite a predilection towards enjoying anything featuring the guy who can leap tall buildings in a single bound, found Man of Steel to be uneven in many departments. Fortunately Batman v Superman plays like a synthesis of all of the good things Snyder is capable of, with many of the bad ones left behind in his older films. There’s gorgeous imagery, such as the sublime sight of one of our heroes gracefully landing with a rescued woman in Juarez or a young crime victim being buoyed upwards by a flock of bats; his partnership with DP Larry Fong has never been stronger. Hans Zimmer continues his brilliant work in the series, bringing back some of his stellar themes from Man of Steel and adding fantastic new ones for Bruce Wayne, Batman and Luthor. And while the film takes its time to let the characters interact through other means than violence, when it’s time for action Snyder’s muscular talents for that end of the story are on full, swaggering display. Much like the successful comic book films over at that other studio often do, the filmmakers here reach back into a treasure trove of DC comic book stories to put together an epic romp of a tale, and even have the chutzpah to visually nod to multiple previous big screen iterations of these heroes. And, as noted earlier, Snyder is continuing the story of Superman, allowing the character to grow, be challenged, suffer doubt and loss, and really become quite a bit more interesting to observe than this indestructible Dudley Do-Right often is. Like many other fans of this growing franchise, I can hardly wait to see what direction they take the character in next.
JONATHAN DEMME’S RICKI AND THE FLASH — A REVIEW BY NICK CLEMENT

There isn’t a role that Meryl Streep can’t absolutely knock out of the park. It’s kind of crazy. She’s just as believable as Margaret Thatcher or Julia Child as she is portraying a fading music star in Jonathan Demme’s charming dramedy Ricki and the Flash. Well observed and written with sass and sensitivity by Diablo Cody, the film is that rare medium budgeted studio picture that’s about family and people and human interaction and words and thoughts and feelings. Kevin Kline is around for some great supporting moments and comical pot smoking, but the entire picture is stolen by Mamie Gummer, playing Streep’s estranged daughter, who is emotionally devastated over the recent collapse of her marriage, and still hurting from years of motherly inactivity. If you want a film about characters and their emotions and how we’re all human beings who are capable of mistakes, this is the film for you; not a CGI image in sight.
The story focuses on the broken nature of families when divorce is involved, and how when one parent, in this case Streep, disappears into their own private world, the effects can be long lasting on their children. Demme is one of the most humanistic of filmmakers I can think of, and as usual, there’s an effortless sense of grace that accompanies every sequence in this intimate film. Music, as always, plays a large part to the narrative and general cinematic atmosphere; in another life, Demme was likely some sort of rock ‘n roll star. And the film confirms, yet again, as if we needed to be reminded, how versatile and engaging Streep is as a performer, taking a potentially totally unsympathetic character and filling the edges with moments of personal reflection that might not have existed on the page. A mild sleeper hit in the theaters, this is the sort of film that will find a long life on cable and on disc. Also – some nice Rick Springfield POWER.
Rapid Fire: A Review by Nate Hill
Along with the classic The Crow, Brandon Lee made few other films before his heartbreaking accidental death. His natural charisma and likeability he brought to action hero roles, accenting the tough guy qualities with an angelic vulnerability, was tragically cut short by the incident. However, Rapid Fire is a gift to fans of both Lee and the action genre alike. It’s a little further away from the notoriety of The Crow, but packs a fuming punch of martial arts, gunplay and tough talking character actors strutting their stuff to a tune that any fan of the genre can hum along to. Lee plays Jake, a young college student with turmoil in his past, haunted by an incident involving a loved one in the Tienemen Square disaster. During a visit to Chicago, he inadvertently witnesses a brutal gangland murder perpetrated by drug kingpin Tony Serrano (Nick Mancuso). This immediately puts him in the hot seat and pretty much on his own after the federal agent assigned to him (Raymond J. Barry) betrays him. His only hope lies with grouchy, paternal Chicago Detective Mace Ryan (Powers Boothe) who is on his own rampaging crusade to bring down the drug trade. Jake merely wants to survive and get out of the mess he’s found himself in. Together they punch, kick, shoot and strategize their way out of getting offed by the mafia, and kick some serious scumbag ass along the way. Lee is ultimate protagonist material: his strong points arise out of the soft touch, never being brash or hogging the screen, always serving up a helping of humble that make the ass kicking resonate tenfold. Boothe is pricelessly grumpy as the haggard detective, showing brief but unmistakable glimpses of the bruised warrior’s heart beneath, rekindled by his bond with Jake. Mancuso is like a rabid pit bull let off the chain as Serrano, a truly untethered piece of geniune psychopathic anarchy. But that’s him, always the under sung wild card who lights up his scenes with wild eyed tenacity. Chinese acting legend Tzi Ma also clocks in as a heroin dealer with a short temper, looking very young which is even made into a meta joke itself. It’s pure uncut action, somehow feeling like more thanks to Lee’s incredible presence, as well as Boothe and Mancuso adding their own lively brand of spice to an already simmering stew. Essential viewing for any action disciple.
CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGER: A Retrospective by Joel Copling
Rating in Stars: ** (out of ****)
Cast: Chris Evans, Hayley Atwell, Tommy Lee Jones, Hugo Weaving, Sebastian Stan
Director: Joe Johnston
MPAA Rating: PG-13 (for intense sequences of sci-fi violence and action)
Running Time: 2:05
Release Date: 07/22/11
The problem that plagues Captain America: The First Avenger is what has plagued many a story of the origin of a superhero: a lack of variation. The film might boast impressive, art-deco production design, a blustery music score that pairs well with the hero behind whom we are supposed to rally, and an intriguing villain whose actor gives a pretty committed performance. But everything else here, including our hero in both modes of unassuming Everyman and nondescript Savior, is bland, from the way the screenplay by Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely shoves him unceremoniously into a generic external conflict to the way it examines his accommodation to a bigger, more built body and strength by way of an extended montage set to a theme song.
Before he dons the stars-and-stripes-studded costume as Captain America, he’s Steve Rogers (Chris Evans), a scrawny kid applying for the United States Army in spite of asthma that disqualifies him. He battles on in his attempt, though, applying in five different states because of a righteous desire to join those who are dying for a cause that he feels is a worthy one. In other words, he’s not unlike every soldier who joins the military with a sense of gumption, but there’s something about him that is admirable. Evans’s performance embraces this sense of patriotic duty through earnestness, but the writing of the character is bland (There’s the word again).
When he puts on the suit (at first, rather fittingly as a commercial for the armed forces), he becomes a dull superhero, too. That happens after he is approached by Erskine (Stanley Tucci), a doctor who has been working for an organization (whose members include Dominic Cooper as Howard Stark, and yes, that surname jumps out at you for a reason) that is developing a serum to create a soldier with heightened abilities and strength in the fight against the Nazis. Col. Phillips (Tommy Lee Jones, whose deadpan is in full swing here) believes that Erskine’s being silly choosing such an underdog, the British agent Peggy Carter (Hayley Atwell) is convinced by his attitude, and Steve just wants to save his best friend, “Bucky” Barnes (Sebastian Stan), when his battalion goes missing.
The major threat here is Johann Schmidt, one of the more insane followers of Adolf Hitler’s playbook, who is in search of a mysterious, glowing artifact that will grant omnipotence and power his own weapons with enough force to vaporize all who enter his path. He’s an interesting villain in theory, but the only thing in practice that works is Hugo Weaving’s performance, which is in turn mostly notable for being a perfect impression of Werner Herzog. There is little or no tissue connecting Steve to Schmidt (whose human face is only a façade for a maimed profile that looks like Voldemort but turned all red) until their climactic showdown.
It’s an act of undermining the impact of the sequence, and that then goes for the entire climax, during which we get very little cleverness with regards to choreography (We’ve been here and seen this before) and a lot of to-do in director Joe Johnston’s staging that is of little consequence. The film does gain some surprising mileage from Steve’s budding romance with Peggy before the final scene forces them apart by several decades (Credit must be given to the sorrowful final line), because it’s only in the budding stages. But Captain America: The First Avenger proves only to be the latest familiar origin story–nothing more and maybe a bit less.


