Koch Vision has released Popu…

March 12th, 2010

Koch Vision has released Popular Mechanics: The New Technology of War, a five-part, three-and-a-half-hour-plus documentary that looks at the quantum leaps the U.S. military is undertaking to bring cutting-edge computer technology to the armed services. Using CGI simulations, battle footage, authentic test and training films, and interviews with computer experts, Popular Mechanics: The New Technology of War moves quickly through its various examinations of ground, air, and sea operations innovations, focusing on individual weapons and vehicles that will simply astound the average viewer.


Popular Mechanics: The New Technology of War is broken up into five sections: Ground Forces; Air Power, Sea Power; Counter-Terrorism; and The Future of War. According to Popular Mechanics: The New Technology of War, the key to 21st warfare lies squarely on one key element: information superiority. I suppose that’s always been the key to winning armed conflicts from man’s first war, but in the 21st century, the concept of gathered intelligence has gone completely digital, with the military shooting for a day when the average boot soldier will be linked up to a central computerized, satellite-controlled grid - which controls all sea, land, and ground operations - while outfitted and equipped with state-of-the-art computerized weaponry and even nanotechnology-designed uniforms that serve as both armor and emergency aid equipment. What he sees on the ground will be convey to a central command, which controls all aspects of a particular engagement, with the soldier’s computer intel providing vital info for the overall success of the operation.

Watching Popular Mechanics: The New Technology of War, I was floored by the future weapons, vehicles and computer technologies and operational systems that are either close to being implemented or are in their formative stages of development. Not being in any way an expert (or even a novice for that matter) on such subjects, frankly, my first reaction to seeing some of the incredibly advanced systems in Popular Mechanics: The New Technology of War was, “Hey, should they really be talking about this stuff out loud?” But I assume they know what they’re doing (can you imagine the stuff they’re not talking about?), and this documentary presents a fascinating, techno-junkie’s paradise of super-cool weaponry, assault vehicles and operational systems (I’ll comment on some of the items described in the doc, down in the individual section descriptions).

And since it comes from the producers of Popular Mechanics, even though it’s a general overview of these coming technologies, there’s plenty of emphasis on looking at the gadgets, and explaining in clear terms how they work (or will work). The first three sections that deal with specific military applications are probably the most compelling portions of the documentary, with the section on counter-terrorism coming off a little diffused (no doubt due to the less “sexy” aspects of airport x-ray machines versus stealth submarines) and the final section on the future of war plays more like a summing up of the previous four sections. But for a look at the fearsome, awesomely complicated weaponry and military systems that will be science fact not fiction in the next twenty years, Popular Mechanics: The New Technology of War is a perfect introduction.

Here are the 5, 47-minute sections of the two-disc documentary, Popular Mechanics: The New Technology of War, and my thoughts on each segment:

Ground Forces
Until robots start doing our killing on the battlefield (and according to Popular Mechanics: The New Technology of War, that day will be coming sooner than you think), the foot soldier is still the best “computer” we have, and the advanced systems being developed will catapult the average dog face into becoming a 21st century warrior. Evidently, the highest priority the U.S. military has right now is integrating all land, sea, and air operational systems into one centrally controlled system, guided by GPS and “Blue Force Tracking” (where each and every soldier can be tracked on the battlefield). This section also looks at The Stryker, an awesomely fierce armored personnel carrier/tank that can punch a whole in anything while hauling ass down the road at 70 miles-per-hour! I also found the discussion of the nanotechnology-designed “Liquid Armor” concepts utterly incredible, with talk of soldiers’ uniforms that are as soft as silk, yet totally impervious to projectiles — while literally acting as “health monitors” that could apply medically operations such as CPR to wounded soldiers. Seriously?

Air Power

More than any other component, speed is the absolute leveler in any armed air combat: the fastest jet wins. So the discussion of the new supersonic “scramjets — where engineers predict hydrogen-compressed fuel systems that will produce speeds in excess of Mach 14 (!) - was fascinating. Stealth systems are also looked at, with the new Raptor fighter jets, as well as the F-22 and the infinitely adaptable F-35, providing some cool flight footage. Precision engagement is also discussed, with the AGM-130 and the JASSM “Fire and Forget” precision-guided bombing systems, looked at in detail. And wait until you see the X-45, the experimental unmanned stealth fighter jet.

Sea Power

Since 70% of the globe is covered in water, you had better have a navy that can go anywhere, deliver any ordinance, and get there quickly and silently. Popular Mechanics: The New Technology of War looks at the CDN-21, the new class of aircraft carriers that will soon replace the Nimitz carrier class. I particularly liked the new RQ8A “Fire Scout” robotic Navy helicopter scout that looks like a toy you might build in your garage - a very deadly little toy. The AAAV (Advanced Amphibian Assault Vehicle) is something to behold, a jacked-up landing craft that can hydroplane across the water as its mounted gun blasts targets at the landing zone. The DD6-1000 Navy destroyer class is fascinating, with its 100 mile range for in-land targeting, along with the highly advanced CG(X) cruiser class ships. The new Virginia Class Submarines are also detailed here (with the sweet Advanced SEAL Delivery System mini sub).

Counter-Terrorism

According to the experts, building a Fortress America isn’t possible, or even the most effective way to deal with the absolutely frightening reality of Islamic terrorism. What can save us from another attack is upping our intelligence gathering capabilities, and all sorts of computer systems are looked at in this section, including the use of UAV’s (Unmanned Aerial Vehicles) on the Mexican border, radar tracking systems for carrier boxes from overseas ships, advanced x-ray and electromagnetic “cat scan” machines at airports that can pinpoint weapons, explosives, and biological agents, and nuclear detection systems. My favorite technology? The distinctively “low-tech” use of bluegill fish to monitor our fresh water systems.

The Future of War
This section basically sums up the previous four segments, but there are some awesome new weapons and vehicles featured here, including the kick-ass “Crusher,” a six-wheeled all-terrain unmanned assault vehicle that guides itself over rough territory, and the futuristic-looking FSF1 Sea Fighter.

The DVD:

The Video:
The full screen, 1.33 video image for Popular Mechanics: The New Technology of War is just okay, with compression issues popping up on a large monitor. The image wasn’t the sharpest, either.

The Audio:
The Dolby Digital English mono audio mix was adequate for this dialogue-heavy doc, but I would have liked to hear those vehicle engines in 5.1.

The Extras:
There are no extras for Popular Mechanics: The New Technology of War.

Final Thoughts:
Military buffs and techno-junkies will enjoy Popular Mechanics: The New Technology of War, a five-part look at the coming advanced military systems, weapons and vehicles that will define American 21st century warfare. Since it’s from Popular Mechanics, the emphasis is on giving detailed explanations for all the items looked at, with those explanations given in a clear, concise, easily understood manner. I recommend Popular Mechanics: The New Technology of War.


Paul Mavis is an internationally published steam and television historian, a colleague of the Online Film Critics Society, and the author of The Espionage Filmography.

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The Good German (2006)

March 10th, 2010

Steven Soderbergh tries to make one like they reach-me-down to and comes up short with “The Good German.” A post-World Clash II drama upon midst the rubble of a bombed-excuse Berlin, this disgraceful-and-Caucasoid backlot production endeavors to recapture the bitter romanticism of such ’40s studio artifacts as “Casablanca” and “A Foreign Affair” while adding contemporary frankness. But doing what came naturally to Hollywood craftsmen 60 years ago is absolutely harder than it appeared, as Soderbergh can’t duplicate the look and feel of the old-fashioned entertainments he means to honor. Despite the starry look for, the prominent will steer clear, leaving the director’s latest honorable but failed trial to artfilm buffs.

Soderbergh has made much of how he used actual ’40s lenses and just one camera, embraced studio-confined limitations and otherwise tried to direct much as Michael Curtiz would have done. But aficionados hoping to luxuriate in a full-blown simulation of Golden Era style will come away disappointed.

“The Good German” has little of the luster, sheen and pictorial nuance of a top-flight Hollywood picture of the old school. The contrasts are far too extreme; many compositions contain large areas of impenetrable black, and faces and other light objects are overexposed to the point of being washed out. Pic looks less like a 1942 Warner Bros. melodrama than a 1962 “Twilight Zone” episode intercut with background shots from Rossellini’s “Germany Year Zero.”

Based on an estimable 2001 novel by Joseph Kanon, Paul Attanasio’s sturdy script could scarcely boast a time and place more ripe with international intrigue and world-weary cynicism. In July 1945, Truman, Churchill and Stalin are on their way to Potsdam, outside of Berlin, to carve up the broken remains of Europe, with results that would help establish the boundaries for the foreseeable East-West stand-off. But already, the deadly cat-and-mouse games that became the stuff of countless Cold War thrillers is being played out among the wartime allies in the four zones dividing Berlin.

Entering the fray is Jake Geismer (George Clooney), an American war correspondent returning to the capital for the first time since the late ’30s. Startled at how completely the city has been destroyed — a stark, 1.33 ratio docu opening credits sequence provides vivid first-hand evidence — Jake is less concerned about his journalistic responsibilities than he is about finding Lena, the German woman he was forced to leave behind.

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The movie’s rhythms seem off from the outset. A long sequence of the young Corporal Tully (Tobey Maguire) driving Jake into town from the airport feels awkward; the vehicle doesn’t appear to be moving at the correct rate compared with its docu backdrop, Maguire is too cranked up while Clooney is too subdued, and the characters do not establish a rapport. Right out of the box, pic puts the viewer at arm’s length.

Tully narrates the film’s first section, a responsibility later assumed by Jake and then Lena. Enthusiastically acted by Maguire, Tully could be the immature younger brother of William Holden’s Sefton in “Stalag 17,” an opportunistic black-marketer for whom his position in the motor pool creates no end of possibilities; he supplies American whisky to the head of the Russian sector, General Sikorsky (Ravil Isyanov, excellent), and doesn’t hesitate to offer Jake an hour with his girlfriend, who is none other than Lena.

Lena (Cate Blanchett) becomes the most intriguing character in the picture, partly by default; Tully is found murdered 24 minutes in — there’s no way around revealing this development, as all else hinges on it — and Jake remains an unnatural man of action. But the men merely put into relief the extent to which Lena’s life is, in every possible way, in extremis. She suffered horribly during the war, is now a prostitute, her husband is apparently dead and all she wants is to get out of Germany.

With dead dark eyes, a dramatic slash of a mouth and a sullenness that encases whatever is left of her heart and soul, Lena is a vivid, if not exactly unique, creation, and Blanchett soon all but disappears into the forlorn, desperate character. She summons shades of Dietrich, to be sure, but brings Lena fully to life, at least to the extent she has life left in her.

After Tully’s body, his uniform stuffed with money, is fished out of the river at Potsdam, the plot gears start turning in earnest, putting the film more squarely on the rails. Jake, under some suspicion himself, begins poking his nose into areas where it’s not appreciated; he’s warned off his investigation by the American military governor, Colonel Muller (Beau Bridges), while army attorney Bernie Teitel, an interesting character nicely underplayed by Leland Orser, provides Jake with useful information from the Russian police report.

Ultimately, however, all roads lead to Lena, who cagily plays a long game by holding her big cards very close to the vest. Despite her obstinacy, Jake romantically persists in trying to help her, only to be repeatedly beaten up for his trouble. Akin to Jack Nicholson’s nosy Jake in “Chinatown,” Clooney’s nosy Jake is forced to wear a bandage on his ear for a good part of the time.

Looming behind the intricate personal dramas is the specter of momentous geopolitical and ethical issues, notably the behind-the-scenes struggle between the Yanks and Ruskies to snare the services of the top German scientists, moral and legal considerations be damned.

Clooney underplays in laconic fashion as he tries to round out a man whose seen-it-all attitude cloaks a romantic heart. But both he and Soderbergh seem afraid or unable to reveal the conviction for melodrama necessary to put across a story like this. For actor and director, the project seems like trying on a new coat, and it doesn’t fit either of them. Final scene reps the film’s one explicit homage to “Casablanca,” an ill-advised move in that it forces the inevitable negative comparison.

Genuine pleasure is generated by Philip Messina’s production design, which has made a convincing mess of numerous standing backlot street sets to convey a ruined Berlin; Louise Frogley’s costume designs, which revel in the eclectic nature of what deprived people scraped together to wear and Thomas Newman’s voluptuous score, which draws attention to itself at times, but nonetheless achieves discordant moods and levels of complexity rare in film music these days.

As for the lensing, Soderbergh, working under his nom de camera Peter Andrews, has become a handy and effective d.p. on his own films when working in color. But black-and-white is a different discipline. So even though the director had worked in the format once before, on his second picture, “Kafka,” and Clooney had similarly shot “Good Night, and Good Luck” on color stock from which the hues were then drained out, it’s a pity that, just this once, Soderbergh couldn’t see clear to hiring an old pro who knew all the tricks and could have concentrated exclusively on this aspect of the picture.

A Perfect World (1993)

March 8th, 2010

In “A Perfect World,” Clint Eastwood plays a legendary Texas Ranger named Red Garnett, but it’s inscrutable to tell just how the attribute came by that legendary status. The year is 1963, and when Red hears that a career mobster named Butch Haynes (Kevin Costner) has busted out of prison and taken a inadequate fellow hostage, he acts identical to he’s been told that a kitty is stuck in a tree. Standing far-fetched and warn in his ranger’s uniform and white cowboy hat, he looks skilled but sluggish, as if he plans to gambol right on the holder no more than as soon as he wakes up from his nap.

Actually, not much happens after Red begins his search either, and for a while the unhurried, devil-may-care pace that Eastwood has given to his material is disorienting. For a movie about a cop chasing an escaped prisoner, it seems curiously languid, almost meditative. Watching it, you think, where’s the action, the crashing cars, the gunplay and the glib one-liners?

In other words, where is the Clint Eastwood we know?

The answer is “Not here, so get used to it.” And strangely enough, we do. Directed by Eastwood from a script by John Lee Hancock, “A Perfect World” is one of the Academy Award-winning actor-director’s most unexpected, most satisfying films. This isn’t the first time that Eastwood has turned the tables on our expectations, but he’s never been this bold in the past, or this sure of himself.

I have no idea how audiences will react to this intimate, unassuming, gently funny character study. Most of the film is spent in the car with the convict and his hostage, Phillip (played with remarkable restraint by T.J. Lowther). For the boy, who is too young to know what’s really going on, the kidnapping quickly becomes the adventure of a lifetime. Raised a Jehovah’s Witness, Phillip has been denied many of the common pleasures of being a child — like being able to dress up for Halloween. And Haynes is clever enough to turn their exploits together into a game of cops and robbers, with fake names and all.

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As Haynes and his new partner poke around committing petty crimes and trying to avoid police roadblocks, they become fast friends. And why not? Like a father who’s only around on weekends, Haynes lets the kid do all the things his mother usually won’t allow. For example, at one stop Phillip finds a Halloween costume — it’s a Casper the Friendly Ghost suit — and while Haynes is being chased by the cops outside, he’s inside the store slipping the costume under his shirt.

The scenes between Haynes and his new pal are the film’s best; in fact, they may be the best scenes Eastwood has ever put on film. The more time Haynes spends with Phillip, the more he sees himself in the young boy’s eyes. A criminal since boyhood, Haynes grew up in a whorehouse under the intermittent supervision of a brutal, alcoholic father. And because he feels that he was cheated out of his own childhood, Haynes’s determination to show Phillip a good time takes on a special urgency.

This isn’t a spectacular role for Costner, but he does spectacular things with it. As Haynes, he doesn’t wear his criminality on his sleeve. Instead, he underplays the character’s violence with such cunning skill that he becomes dangerously likable. When Phillip tells Haynes that he’s never ridden on a roller coaster, the escaped con ties him to the roof of their stolen station wagon and gives the ecstatic boy — who’s still wearing his Casper suit — a ride to remember.

Meanwhile, after commandering a mobile headquarters designed for the governor, Red and his crew — which includes a deputy (Leo Burmester), an FBI man (Bradley Whitford) and a criminologist named Sally (Laura Dern) — take to the highway in search of their prey. But from all the success they have, they might as well be out on a joy ride themselves.

In most movies of this sort, the filmmakers try to create an atmosphere of apprehension, but not here. In fact, Eastwood appears to take a certain amount of pleasure in deflating the tension. As the movie builds to a climax, he keeps tossing in lazy bits of comedy. As an actor, he does much the same thing. Though he has a few sharp, comic exchanges with Dern (who does a serviceable job with an impossible role), Eastwood seems to spend most of his screen time goofing on his character and playing his squint-eyed prowess for laughs.

We expect a final faceoff between these two screen icons, but when the time comes for the criminal and the cop to stand toe-to-toe, Eastwood is so slow to come to his mark that the confrontation is a non-event. Yet almost despite itself, the scene works. “A Perfect World” may not be the Clint Eastwood-Kevin Costner movie that we expected, and on some level, it may even seem perverse. But maybe that’s what big star power is really about.

For all its sensitivity to th…

March 5th, 2010

For all its sensitivity to the horrors of mental illness, “The Soloist” ends up as a fairly canned piece of work. In grand style, it tells the story of a schizophrenic musician and of the newspaperman who writes about him, but what emerges is a tale of triumph but without triumph, of rescue but without rescue, and of friendship but without friendship.

Every few minutes, the movie cranks up a masterpiece on the sound track, daring the audience not to feel moved. Yet all the strenuous effort can’t cover over the gulf between Beethoven’s towering emotion and the tepid story onscreen.

“The Soloist” finds success in one area, however, in director Joe Wright’s subjective depiction of schizophrenia as experienced from inside an afflicted person’s mind. In several memorable sequences, Wright creates a soundscape of imagined voices, all competing for attention, and through subtle, imaginative camera work, he conveys the dislocation of a person receiving reality through a distorted and frightening filter.

It’s inescapable hell to live that way, and it helps us understand why an intelligent musician, driven into homelessness, should prefer to live outdoors, in the midst of activity, rather than to sit in a quiet room where the voices can more easily get to him. It also explains the torrents of language that come from Nathaniel (Jamie Foxx), when he first meets Los Angeles Times columnist Steve Lopez (Robert Downey Jr.) on a city street. If he keeps babbling, he can maintain something resembling a line of thought and keep the voices at bay.

Foxx’s performance makes Wright’s success in this area possible. He leaves us in no doubt of Nathaniel’s pain and terror, nor of his essential kindness of spirit, nor of the white-knuckle, tough-it-out challenge his sickness presents every second he’s breathing. Nathaniel’s one place of solace is music. When Lopez discovers him, he’s playing a violin with only two strings. When a background check confirms that Nathaniel once attended Juilliard, Lopez seizes on him as fodder for a column.

More columns follow, and a relationship, of sorts, builds between the two men. But because the movie is operating under a severe constraint - the actual facts - the story must settle into a holding action of similar scenes, in which Lopez tries to help Nathaniel, but with limited success. Perhaps reacting to something implicit in Susannah Grant’s screenplay, Downey plays Lopez as a man just doing a job. Nathaniel is a story to him. How friendly can they be, after all, if one is “Mr. Lopez” and the other is “Nathaniel,” and Lopez never says, “Call me Steve”? Even when Lopez gets passionate on Nathaniel’s behalf, Downey remains plugged into the cannibalizing aspect of the writing life: He portrays Lopez as someone who enjoys caring and enjoys getting involved, because it all makes for a better column.

The extent of Nathaniel’s mental illness, though it presents Foxx with great opportunities to demonstrate his technical proficiency, makes it hard on the screenwriter. If Nathaniel can’t recover and can’t become a great musician, where’s the forward motion, where’s the redemption, what makes this into a dramatic story and not a 20-inch rumination in the newspaper? Grant takes a halfhearted stab in the “Equus” direction, suggesting that Nathaniel’s schizophrenia gives him an advantage over the mentally healthy - a heightened appreciation of music that allows him to enter a state of “grace” when he hears it. But the transport looks more like relief, a temporary respite from the noise crowding his consciousness.

Finally, with nowhere else to turn, Grant has to settle for emphasizing the friendship angle, with the dramatic question becoming: “Can Nathaniel and Lopez remain buddies?” That’s not much, considering that the movie never succeeds in portraying a friendship to begin with.

Still, there’s Downey, whose eyes are active even when they’re still, there’s Foxx, and there’s Catherine Keener, as Lopez’s ex-wife and current editor, who is as much like a real-life newspaper editor as Helen Mirren (in “State of Play”) is not. There’s also a plea on behalf of endangered newspapers, the second in as many weeks, with loving shots of broadsheets rumbling off the presses. Those shots may not have been enough to make me particularly enjoy “The Soloist,” but the gesture was appreciated.

Advisory: Scenes of squalor and violence.

To hear Mick LaSalle talk about movies, listen to his weekly podcast at sfgate.com/podcasts.

E-mail Mick LaSalle at mlasalle@sfchronicle.com.

The Interns review

March 2nd, 2010

In its apparent assault to dramatize candidly and irreverently the organize by which secondary-finished candidate medics manage to turn into fixed doctors, the cloud come hell succeeds in depicting the average intern as some kind of a Hippocratic oaf. At times it comes perilously close to earning the nickname, Carry On, Intern.

The separate stories of five interns, four male and one female, are traced alternately in a sort of razzle-dazzle style by the screenplay from Richard Frede’s novel. Three of the stories are predictable from the word go and the other two are thoroughly unbelievable.

As these personal stories unfold, a kind of cross-section of hospital life is transpiring in the background. Chief features are a rather gory childbirth sequence, a mercy killing incident and a wild party passage imitative of the one in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, but hardly as appropriate or amusing. Support characters run to stereotype, i.e. the ugly, prim nurse who removes her spex, lets her hair down, gets stinko and becomes the hit of the party.

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The Valet review

March 1st, 2010
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Clear and Present Danger (1994)

February 28th, 2010

The third Jack Ryan thriller following The Hunt for Red October (1990) and Patriot Games (1992), Clear and Nowadays Danger (1994) is a bit more ambitious than its nearest predecessor but finally slightly worse thanks to some seriously muddled storytelling, ham-fisted moralizing, unrestrained caricatures of drug lords and especially corrupt government officials, and a badly miscast lead. You know you’re in trouble when the studio resorts to quoting Sixty Supporter Preview’s Jeff Craig, the notorious blurbmeister who doesn’t even see most of the movies he reliably gushes over.

Though the simultaneously-released The Hunt for Red October looks great in high-def, Patriot Games‘ transfer is flat-out awful, mainly due to extreme DNR and other over-processing. Clear and Present Danger is similarly problematic, though it’s not quite as glaringly bad throughout as with the earlier film. The opening credits make plain the problem: Not content with the look of the titles, whoever did the transfer artificially boosted the whiteness of the font until it practically goes supernova. The letters actually look like the whites of eggs sizzling in an oily frying pan, ready to slide right off the screen at any moment. Now, back to our movie:

An American businessman with close personal ties to the U.S. President (Donald Moffat, previously Lyndon Johnson in The Right Stuff) is murdered execution-style along with the rest of his family. Initial reports suggest pirates merely wanting to steal his yacht, but CIA analyst Jack Ryan (again played by Harrison Ford) determines the American was in fact laundering money for a Columbian drug lord and caught with his hand in the cookie jar to the tune of $600 million.

Meanwhile, Ryan’s friend and mentor, Admiral James Greer (James Earl Jones, giving the film’s only interesting performance), is diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer and appoints a reluctant Ryan as his successor. This doesn’t sit well with National Security Advisor James Cutter (Harris Yulin) or CIA Deputy Director Robert Ritter (Henry Czerny) who’re in the midst of launching a covert war against the Cali Cartel with the aid of secret field operative John Clark (Willem Dafoe) - and the President’s implicit approval. (Another major conspirator in the novel, a judge played in the film by Dean Jones, is reduced to a blink-and-you’ll-miss-him walk-on.)

A big part of Clear and Present Danger’s problem, frankly, is Harrison Ford. His range seems limited to two types of characters: A) the slightly cocky, sardonic adventurer (Han Solo, Indiana Jones); or B) the generic family man under duress and extraordinary circumstances (The Fugitive, Frantic). When he’s tried other kinds of roles (Regarding Henry, Hollywood Homicide) with a few notable exceptions he’s tended to deliver miserably bad performances, though it may have as much to do with the bad scripts offered him as Ford’s abilities as an actor. Patriot Games worked in Ford’s favor; it was yet another family-in-peril story - in other words: “B.”

Clear and Present Danger is a different story. Several times Ford’s character is disparagingly referred to as a “boy scout,” and throughout the picture Ryan exhibits extreme naiveté (Corrupt politicians? In Washington? I don’t believe it!) and for most of the film Ryan is almost doddering. Until the climax he’s four or five steps behind the bad guys while around his own colleagues and superiors Ford mumbles and squirms with inexperience. This wouldn’t have been attractive had Alec Baldwin (who played Ryan in The Hunt for Red October) been the lead, but for 52-year-old (at the time) Ford to behave like such a neophyte only makes him appear obscenely unobservant. Not good considering that observing is supposed to be his job.

Corrupt Washington insiders have become a tired cliché (James Cromwell seems to have cornered the market playing such characters since John P. Ryan went into retirement). Czerny and Yulin are instantly recognizable villains; they’re like fifth columnists in those hysterical anticommunist movies of the ’50s. Thin-lipped humorless types with flaring nostrils, they seem to enjoy delivering long monologues while staring unblinkingly at nothing in particular. In the novel conservative author Tom Clancy made them much more sympathetic; here’s it’s not even entirely clear why these guys are launching this potentially disastrous private war, other than to improve the president’s approval rating prior to the next election.

There are smart thrillers that are complex and challenging, and ones like this that are pointlessly confusing and muddled. It’s long (142 minutes) and moves like molasses. Though it alludes to the same complex ethical issues raised with Iran-Contra, the derivative climax is straight out of Rambo: First Blood Part II, and nearly as dopey and flag-waving. Other aspects of the film are almost embarrassingly bad. As in The Hunt for Red October, non-English speaking characters are introduced speaking their native language and then, using a cinematic device (in this case, involving the use of double-printed frames), the dialogue switches to English mid-sentence, implying they’re still speaking the foreign language but the audience gets to “hear” it in English. Though it wasn’t the first film to use the technique, in The Hunt for Red October the effect is exciting and effective; here it just seems flashy and dumb, especially since the language in this case is ordinary Spanish, not exactly the mysterious tongue of Aramaic.

Days of Heaven review

February 25th, 2010


Noël Carroll described Terrence Malick as a filmmaker who portrays the "primacy of sophistication." Malick attempts to capture images and sounds and words that are largely unfiltered by our usual perceptual processes. His films emphasize the act of looking for its own sake; they bypass language and other intermediary channels to plug the viewer straight away into experience itself. Malick´s films, adulate many of Werner Herzog´s, layer a person primordial allusion on top of another to create a density of allusion so tangible it becomes, in Carroll´s words "too much there."

Malick´s extraordinary subscribe to feature "Days of Heaven" (1978) is so much "there" it feels dig a blanket enveloping the viewer or, to less sympathetic viewers, an impenetrable keep that prevents access. A shoal of locusts; a rippling except in placenames kill; wheat fields shimmering in a untroubled Nautical cat’s-paw; Malick´s world is alive in a way that only a few filmmakers have ever rivaled. Oh, there are people in Malick´s movies too, and they matter, but they don´t naturally terminate precedence over the prospect. All parts of the environment pick up equal billing here: people, animals, insects, trees, clouds. Even Steven the invisible is palpable here; the down on in "Days of Heaven" is essentially a integrity unto itself.

Like Malick´s initially film "Badlands" (1973), "Days of Heaven" features a unite on the run; unlike "Badlands" this is only a petty standpoint of the film´s mosaic. Bill (Richard Gere) accidentally kills a works foreman, and runs away with his girlfriend Abby (Brooke Adams) and his little sister Linda (Linda Manz). They quaff up effective use as migrant farmers on a plantation owned by an unnamed Agriculturist (Sam Shepard, looking much younger than I by any chance remember Sam Shepard looking). The Farmer, dying of cancer, falls in rapport with Abby; Beak persuades her to get hitched the Agronomist in a poorly-articulated scheme to inherit his bundle. Spending any more old hat on plot pr��cis would grossly misrepresent Malick´s accomplishment.

The obscure is framed with a shifting, awkward revelation by Linda Manz who sounds as if she is groping for the words as she speaks them, eventually another means by which Malick undermines the interpretive power of language. Here the words spring forth like a natural experience, not fully planned but blossoming slowly into fullness. Linda is an rare prize for narrator since she remains so aloof from the action of the film, but then again everybody in the shoot is private in his or her own moreover. By emphasizing natural elements and dropping awesome new images into the film purportedly out of the ether (oh, look, a flying circus has proper arrived) Malick de-centers his narrative. The characters (human and otherwise) circle around the singularity at the uncommonly core of the film.

The editing is easy-form. Certainly there are times when Malick employs habitual narrative strategies, such as when he cuts to a drink of Bill and Abby holding each other as they walk away, to a to the point shot of the Farmer looking unbelieving. Other times, Malick will cut from a Theatre sides of dialogue truth into an entirely alien row; even within a single dialogue uncomfortable, the characters arise to wander idle in discrete directions single to hurriedly encounter themselves back together again. Rather than continuity, Malick is primarily interested in distilling each two shakes of a lamb’s tail to its critical, in a head creating the ineffable on film.


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Day at the Beach (1998)

February 22nd, 2010
“This is mainly a comedy/thriller
about a young New Yorker’s dream to make a gangster movie and of his love
for a young girl, and his relationship with his friends.”

Reviewed by Dennis Schwartz

This is mainly a comedy/thriller about a young New Yorker’s dream
to make a gangster movie and of his love for a young girl, and his relationship
with his friends. The story has a certain charm and a genuineness that
shows through, as it moves seamlessly from comedy into suspense at the
drop of a briefcase.

Jimmy Hughes (Veronis) is a luckless New York ravioli factory worker,
who is shooting a film with fellow workers John (Patrick), Chuck (Neal),
and Herman (Maisonett). When John mistakenly flings the only briefcase
these amateur filmmakers have for the scene off the roof of a building,
it fatally lands on a fisherman.

Nick Veronis makes his debut as actor/writer/director in this very
refreshing story. He did it under the physical handicap from an accident
suffered three days into shooting the movie, where he underwent tendon
surgery and had to wear a splint on his hand for the rest of the film.

It’s a buddy movie and the buddies are all affable and seem like
the sort of people you would see in real life and not on a Hollywood set.
John talks with an Irish brogue and is the only one in the group married.
John lives with his wife Marie (Jane Adams) and their child; Chuck is allergic
to bees and wants desperately to avoid trouble, but mostly he wants to
score with a girl. Chuck has this silly notion to get the former owner
of the ravioli place to listen to his idea to market shaving creme that
is the same color as the shaver’s beard; and, then there is Herman, a Hispanic,
who takes the part as a bad guy for the film when another ravioli worker
is kicked off the film.

When the police investigate the briefcase death: John is left guilt-ridden
by the tragedy, while Jimmy is asked by the police to help them nail some
gangsters they are investigating. Jimmy and the boys soon find out that
the ravioli factory is a money-laundering place for the mob, and that their
mean-spirited boss Augie (Ed) is involved in scams. Augie is also the father
of Amy (Catherine), who is going out with Jimmy. Augie forbids Amy to go
out with Jimmy, even going so far as to have Jimmy beaten up.

The finale comes when Jimmy and the crew (John and family, Chuck,
& Amy), decide to get away from the city and go to the beach in Long
Island; there, they run into the former owner of the ravioli place, Antonio
Gintolini (Ragno). Antonio acts suspicious around his fancy new house in
the Hamptons, but he invites all of them in and lets his hair down to tell
John about his life yearnings and his failures and how he got to name the
factory ‘Thursdays’ because that was the best days of his life in the small-town
of Italy he was from. That is the arranged day he saw a prostitute.

The film offers many keen observations about how these young people
react to the tight situation they are in and it examines in an amusing
way their life-style and esprit de corps, but the story keeps coming back
to Jimmy and how he is prepared to do anything to make his film; even if,
it means stepping on a few toes of some gangsters.

This is an energetic black comedy, rife with incisive dialogue and
the amateur look of an indie film that wants to be arty.

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The Movie The word is “schade…

February 19th, 2010

The Movie

The word is “schadenfreude” and Dictionary.com succinctly defines it as “pleasure derived from the misfortunes of others.” Frankly I’m stunned that we English-speaking folks haven’t come up with our own word for it yet, since nobody on the planet loves to mock the unfortunate the way Americans do. (And save me your nasty emails, cuz you know it’s true.)

And there sure is a lot of schadenfreude to be found within the documentary film Overnight — but it’s tough to feel guilty for the lead character, since he really does come off as an insufferable schmuck. But I’m getting ahead of the story here…

Troy Duffy was a Boston-based nobody; a guy who loved drinking beers with his buddies and having a raucous good time. In his spare time Mr. Duffy would crank out some tunes with his band (which was then known as “The Brood”) and cobble together a fairly intriguing screenplay. His story was called “The Boondock Saints,” and the guy’s debut screenplay somehow caught the attention of Miramax head honcho Harvey Weinstein. In a display of Hollywood short-sightedness (the kind which we’ll never see again), Troy was basically given the keys to the kingdom: Miramax would make Duffy’s movie, they’d help get The Brood signed to a record deal, and they’d also buy Duffy’s favorite bar for him! The news got a lot of press back when Miramax actually meant something.

But on the way to success and stardom, something … happened. And Overnight, as directed by former Duffy-pals Mark Brian Smith & Tony Montana, exists to document Duffy’s meteoric rise and extra-speedy decline.

But is Mr. Duffy this much of an amazing jerk-off, or did Smith & Montana cobble together a hatchet-job of a documentary because they were (quite justifiably) infuriated with the way they were treated by an “old pal”? I’d say it’s probably both — but the “jerk-off” angle seems considerably more likely.

On one hand, let’s face it: I’m a supremely nice guy, but if you had a camera crew following me around for two years, I guarantee you could manage to put together a doco that makes me look like kind of a wanker. On the other hand, there’s little denying that what you see of Mr. Duffy throughout the whole of Overnight is pretty telling. Unless Smith & Montana are amazing wizards of special effects and ADR, which they’re not, Troy Duffy comes off like a pompous, arrogant, abusive, and shamelessly egotistical bastard for much of the film. (It’s at this point I’ll admit that I quite enjoy The Boondock Saints; I think the screenplay is darkly witty and pretty exciting, and the direction, particularly from a experience-free newcomer, is pretty darn slick.)

There’s a scene that pops up about halfway through Overnight in which Duffy mercilessly chastises Smith & Montana for requesting a fair wage for their work. (They were co-managers of the band and the ones responsible for shooting the documentary, after all.) The raving windbag tells them they’re not getting any money … although they might deserve it. And then he says that they don’t deserve it … and that Smith & Montana are little more than opportunistic hanger-on leech-types. It’s at this point where the viewer starts to wonder “…so why did Duffy let them keep shooting?”

And therein lies the real truth of Overnight: Duffy didn’t just want to be a successful and a well-admired moviemaker / msucian — he wanted to be a big fat STAR of the “Tarantino meets Kevin Smith” variety. And he failed miserably, partially due to naivete and lack of experience … but mainly because he treated everyone around him like a piece of crap. And in the Hollywood game, you have to earn the right to be an abusive jerk. With just a good dose of humility and the admission that he was a newbie, Duffy could still be working today. Fuelled by his own ego, Duffy was under the (astonishingly mistaken) impression that strong-arm tactics and abusive behavior were the way to play this kind of game. Obviously he was wrong.

So while I did enjoy watching Overnight and I do think it’s an entertaining slam of a documentary, I can’t help but feel a little bit of sympathy for Troy Duffy. Yes, he acted like an insufferable bastard and abused all his loyal pals … but does the guy deserve to have his name ruined for all eternity just because he didn’t know how to “play the game” properly? Yes, Duffy probably got exactly what he deserved when all is said and done (as in: He’ll never work in movie-land again!) but how would you like to have your worst moments forever immortalized on film and then distributed to every video store in the country?

Mr. Smith and Mr. Montana have absolutely every right to loathe and detest Troy Duffy for the way he treated his old friends … but their movie reeks of sour grapes as much as it delivers a cautionary tale on how NOT to deal with sudden success. Those who love “behind-the-scenes” movie docos should have a really good time with Overnight, but it’s hard to believe that there’s not a lot of back-story that we’re not being told.

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