Final Destination 5

Despite the fact that the Final Destination series was supposed to have come to an end withFinal Destination 4, here we are again. New round of kids, same ol’ specter o’ death, always up to some sort of Rube Goldberg-ian shenanigans. By now, this franchise has established itself as the go-to series for “seeing people killed in inventive, gruesome ways”, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But Final 4 was genuinely terrible, the first film in the series to make me question whether or not all the scenes that weren’t drenched in viscera were worth suffering through in order to get to the money shots. Would Final Destination 5 return the franchise to its “not great, not even good, but watchable for the kills” glory? Find out in my review, after the jump.
The short answer is, “pretty much”.
None of the Final Destination films are referred to by their actual titles, but by the characteristics of the big-ass accidents that kick-start each film. Final Destination 2, for instance, is “the car wreck one”, while Final Destination 3 is “the roller-coaster one”. Final Destination 4—“the NASCAR one”—was the one that seemed to kill the franchise off once and for all, largely because of the film’s awful script and the somehow-even-more-awful acting that permeated the film (just try getting through that film’s opening ten minutes without wanting to punch every actor onscreen in the face), but also because…well, this was the fourth iteration of the series, and everything’s gotta wrap up sooner or later, right?
That’s what New Line Cinema thought, anyway. They’d insisted on calling the fourth film The Final Destination and came this close to releasing it directly to DVD. Then they said, “Eh, what the hell”, dropped it into theaters, and made a surprising amount of money during the flick’s opening weekend. That, of course, led to Final 5 The Bridge Disaster One, and, well, here we are: staring down the barrel of a fifth go-round with the world’s unlikeliest horror franchise (yes, even more unlikely than the Saw franchise). Upon learning that the franchise was taking a victory lap, I was not thrilled, but the possibilities inherent in “Final Destination death scenes + 3D” was pretty compelling, and at worst these films have always been watching at least once.
The Bridge Disaster One is definitely the best Final Destination the series has seen in a long while (probably the best since the second, and maybe just as good), but I’m sad to report that the viewing experience isn’t as fun at home as it was in theaters: for one thing, these films are always best enjoyed with a shrieking crowd; for another, New Line has made the curious decision to release The Bridge Disaster One in 2D. I just bought a big-ass, 3D, LED television about a month ago, and while I’ve been using the set primarily for gaming (you should see Arkham Asylum and Assassin’s Creed in 3D: your face will melt), I’ll confess that I was kind of hoping to see The Bridge Disaster One at home in 3D. I can’t imagine this will be a common complaint, however, as most people still don’t own 3D TVs.
Otherwise, though, this one’s one of the better Final Destination films, and has the distinction of being the only film in the franchise that actually gave me nightmares (it was the laser eye-surgery scene, which plays upon a very particular fear I have of anything being jammed into my ocular cavities)(note: your mom has the same fear). Once again, a group of teenagers narrowly escape death, and once again two or three of their friends are killed off—by the looming, unseen specter of death—before they realize that something’s amiss, and once again they’re forced to speak toTony Todd in order to figure out what the hell’s going on (finding out how the script will work a Tony Todd appearance into each new Final Destination is one of the series’ strangest, most satisfying highlights). The kills are grislier in this one than I remember them being in installments past, and—by the end—just about everyone’s dead. You know what you’re getting into here.
The only thing that really changes from film to film is the accident that kicks off the plot (as it were). In this one, it’s a massive bridge collapse. This scene is probably the highlight of the film (with the possible exception of that still-squirm-inducing eyeball scene) and appears to be where most of the film’s budget went: there’s a level of quality on display in this sequence that’s not readily apparent in some of the other scenes, particularly in some of the obvious set-building that’s been done by director Steven Quale. It may also be worth noting that I found the characters in this one far more unlikable—as a group and individually—than any other Final Destination cast. Did this make the kill scenes even better? I suspect it did (particularly for the loud-mouth douche nozzle that gets his in an acupuncture clinic).
One final note (no pun intended): I really, really liked the ending on this one. Very clever, indeed, and completely unexpected the first time I saw the film. If you’ve been holding off on seeing this one but you’ve at least seen the first film in the series, the ending alone is worth renting this one for.
The extras are scant (a few behind the scenes featurettes on the film’s bigger disaster scenes, a few alternate death scenes, no commentary), the video quality’s solid, and the film runs at a quick 92 minutes. Beyond all that, however, I’m finding it difficult to come up with much to say about this one. Either the Final Destination films blow your skirt up…or they don’t. If you’ve been amused by the series in the past, this one’s certainly worth a rental, but I honestly can’t imagine this one’s worth owning (for non-completists, anyway) unless they’re also releasing a 3D version.

"Avatar" Director James Cameronhas Been Sued For The Second Time

James Cameronhas

"Avatar" director James Cameronhas been sued for the second time in nearly as many weeks by someone claiming to have come up with the idea for the sci-fi mega-hit.

Cameron's attorney, Bert Fields, and Fox both slammed the latest suit by science fiction writer Bryant Moore as without merit. Moore, TMZ first reported Monday, is seeking more than $2 billion -- yes, with a "b" -- from Cameron and 20th Century Fox, claiming that Cameron used his screenplays for the movies "Aquatica" and "Descendants: The Pollination" as the basis for the 2009 film.

Moore is seeking $1.5 billion in actual damages, plus another $1 billion in punitive damages.

"Mr. Cameron was demonstrably the author of 'Avatar,'" Fields told TheWrap. "We can prove that, and we intend to prove that in court." Moore's claim -- and, for that matter, any claim alleging that someone other than Cameron had authored the movie -- is "entirely without merit," according to his attorney.

A spokesperson for Fox called the suit "baseless," adding, "we look forward to vigorously defending our position."

According to TMZ, Moore cites numerous similarities between the projects, including bio-luminescent plant life, spiritual connections to environment and reincarnation, and the appearance of mist in a scene -- yes, the appearance of mist in a scene.

Earlier this month, Eric Ryder filed suit against Cameron in Los Angeles Superior Court, alleging that "Avatar" was largely lifted from his story idea, "and "liberally and substantially uses material" that fell under his agreement with Lightstorm. Ryder claimed to have entered an agreement with Cameron's production company, Lightstorm Entertainment, to develop a movie based on one of his stories.

Corman's World

If the ambitious, decades-spanning Corman's World: Exploits of a Hollywood Rebel highlights a defining trait about Roger Corman, it's that he, in his fatherly way and with a professorial posture, gives new talent a confident chance, often assigning them a role or a job they didn't even see coming. It's fitting then that the film's director, Alex Stapleton, a longtime fan without a single directorial credit to her name, was granted permission by Corman to document his world. For the uninitiated, Corman's World, like the documentary on Australian exploitation films, Not Quite Hollywood, is a valuable link to a treasure trove of undiscovered cheap and tasteless pleasures. For those more familiar with Corman's impact on cinema, Stapleton manages to enhance the film's relatively boilerplate story with tinges of emotion from the interviews she coaxed from many of the now-famous who were given their start by Corman, including a teary-eyed and grateful Jack Nicholson.

But as great as it is see myriad clips from Corman's films, the film also serves as a reminder that bio docs generally fall drastically short of a more critical interpretation of a subject's life and character than can be found in books. For example, the film quickly acknowledges the incongruity between Corman's genteel exterior that he presents to the world and the "boiling inferno," as he describes it, of his "unconscious mind," but it's unsatisfying that there's no speculation as to why. It's the typical, from-the-archives, scrapbook approach that makes Corman's World the safe bet that it is, one that respects Corman's private nature as much as it skirts opportunities to probe his overly familiar history of making enduring B films (Little Shop of Horrors, Death Race 2000,Piranah, Grand Theft Auto) on the fast and cheap and bringing innumerable notables (Martin Scorsese, Ron Howard, Joe Dante, George Lucas, Francis Ford Coppola) into the game since the 50s.

In fact, Corman's role was so vital in the careers of so many Hollywood big shots that the idea of him pulling a George Bailey in 1955 bears repeating; you can't say the American film industry would have been a better place without him. Corman's World surely makes that clear and even slows down a bit to morally validate that claim by paying due to his under-seen The Intruder, which he made at a loss—his only, as the lore goes—to confront the "un-American" race problems in the segregated South. And that the film returns to Corman in Puerto Vallarta on the set of his newest film Dinoshark for the Syfy Channel is proof positive he takes a much more modest approach to earning his millions than, say, protégé James Cameron.

It's a Wonderful Life Review

It's fitting that It's a Wonderful Life went from beloved Christmas staple to full-blown American institution during the Reagan years, when the cozily reactionary proclivities of Frank Capra's movie seemed most in synch with the ostentatious conservatism of the times. Yet it was also during the 1980s that the film received its most caustic analysis, in the form of a Saturday Night Live sketch which imagined the classic's "lost ending." When the people of Bedford Falls ditch singing "Auld Lang Syne" and become a torch-carrying lynch mob howling for Mr. Potter's blood ("You made two mistakes, you double-crossed and you left me alive," Dana Carvey's George Bailey snarls), it's not just great snark, but also a rich glimpse at the vicious darkness that has always dwelled under the film's benign textures.

Without overlooking its lapses into populist bathos, it's necessary to rescue It's a Wonderful Life from its spot at the centerpiece of untouchable American "classics." As with The Wizard of Oz and Gone With the Wind (surely some kind of troika of sacred screen monsters), uncritical reverence both inflates the film's magnitude and robs it of its most interesting elements. Despite the fin de siècle gentility given its small-town setting, this is decisively a postwar work, never more visible than in the balance of hope and despair achieved by James Stewart as George Bailey. This was his first role in five years since enlisting in the Air Force, and Capra introduces his character with a freeze-frame that all but summarizes the actor's gawky persona, yet the rest of the picture gradually introduces the underlying anxiety—the subtle hysteria of a homespun performer who's seen horrors—that Anthony Mann would later bring to the fore in his great cycle of '50s westerns.

Indeed, Stewart's George is something of a cowboy, or at least a wanderer. He dreams of leaving home and traveling the world, and in the early scenes he's full of piss and vinegar. Inexorably, the picture proceeds to tame the roamer in him, draining out his youthful vigor through a series of domesticating events. When George's father dies, it falls to him to rescue the family's savings and loan association from being swallowed by desiccated plutocrat Mr. Potter (Lionel Barrymore), Bedford Falls's own Mr. Burns. The hero's settling down is a rigid standby of classical American cinema, but what's striking in It's a Wonderful Life is how ambiguously the movement toward the stability of family life is rendered. Few scenes have expressed the suppressions and compromises upon which domesticity is erected as beautifully as the close-up of George, anguished in a mix of regret and acceptance, admitting his place by the side of childhood sweetheart Mary (Donna Reed). George's subsequent achievements as a family man and community representative are scarcely negligible, yet his resentment never quite dissipates, it merely stays welled in him until something, like Uncle Billy (Thomas Mitchell) misplacing the company deposit, causes it to spill over.

How can a movie so full of pain and frustration be venerated as simply, glowingly jolly? Mainly adduced from Dickens, Capra's structure is also reminiscent of Bible stories, with George, like several of Capra's other protagonists, undergoing what Andrew Sarris described as a "melodramatic parable of near crucifixion." It's no coincidence that H.B. Warner, Cecil B. DeMille's original Jesus, has a prominent role in the large cast, but George's faith-testing pileup of misfortunes brings him closer to Job than to Christ: Distraught at a bar, his prayers are answered by a sock to the jaw. He has been heard, however, and divine help comes as "second class" angel Clarence (Henry Travers) literally drops from above to save him from the edge of the abyss. The appearance of a cloying angel in the midst of so much desolation is an element that, like Spielberg's final movement in A.I. Artificial Intelligence, can either make or break a film. Yet Clarence is essential here to usher in the film's great shadow sequence, a Dantean descent in which George is given a vision of how things would have been if he had never existed. Bedford Falls becomes Pottersville, crime and sleaze run bare-assed, the people he loved are either dead or wicked—a world fit for a Christmas postcard is suddenly full of tropes from horror and film noir.

It's typical of the film's populism that the loss of a single person is portrayed as a cosmic imbalance, enough to turn an idyll into an inferno. Although Bedford Falls and Pottersville are offered as the safely separated yin and yang of a community, both are equally believable as views of a society where order is suddenly revealed as precarious at best, just as George and Mr. Potter have more in common than it first appears. "You once called me a warped, frustrated old man...Now, you're a warped, frustrated young man," the ogre tells the hero, and the film can't refute him. After such troubling discoveries, the famous climactic affirmation comes off like an escape hatch: It's a wonderful life, the message goes, and be content with it because it can always get worse. Still, there's no denying the last passage's cathartic power, charged by Stewart's tremendous depth of feeling. It's Stewart's emotional force that dries up the material's potential schmaltz, modulating from the romantic who offers to lasso the moon for his beloved to the disgruntled wreck who later asks her, "Why did we have to have so many children?" Capra views the two facets with the same intensity, and films accordingly. Maybe it takes a filmmaker so fascinated with the American Dream to see how close it can be to a nightmare.

Movie Immortals

“The director is God.” It’s a saying that has been applied to directors of both stage and screen. Directors (theoretically) control every aspect of a production and they marshal armies of various departments to bring forth a vision. Director Tarsem Singh took the saying as the subtext for his new movie, Immortals. Singh has always been an indulgent visual stylist, but with Immortals, he has bent a script to create a shining tribute to his own genius. On the page, the movie is a standard “Hero from humble beginnings”, but in the hands of Singh, it becomes lush, outlandish, baffling, and above all, vainglorious.

King Hyperion (Mickey Rourke) is on a rampage across Greece so he can find a magical bow that will unleash the Titans and bring down the gods. Hyperion hates the gods because he needs someone to blame for the death of his family, but he also wants to extend his legacy by taking the Attila the Hun route of extending his bloodline and cutting off the bloodlines of others. It’s clearly a half-assed motivation that’s been tacked on to the character’s personality. Rourke doesn’t care either way since he sleepwalks through the entire movie and treats a mission to bring down the gods with the same enthusiasm as an administrator filing paperwork.

The characters are one-dimensional, the plot is threadbare, but the movie does lay out a very clear thesis statement by opening with the Socrates quote: “All men’s souls are immortal, but the souls of the righteous are immortal and divine.” The story wants us to root for Theseus, a simple-but-goodhearted guy who does the right thing, but Singh couldn’t care whether or not Theseus leads the people to victory or even if he defeats Hyperion. He cares that Theseus learns to believe in the gods, and that we witness the power of those gods. Singh doesn’t care about being righteous. He cares about being divine.

A good director serves the story, but it takes a director like Singh to make the story serve him. Everyone will walk away from Immortals commenting on the eye-popping visuals and vibrant costumes (which will probably earn costume designer Eiko Ishioka an Oscar nomination). But most of the art direction and costume designs tell us nothing about the themes and character beyond “Singh sees the world in an unusual way.” Occasionally, that way is exciting and clever. It’s a smart point to make the gods youthful and attractive because why wouldn’t they choose to take that form? Singh’s spin on the myth of Theseus, the Minotaur, and the maze is brilliant and if all of Immortals was as imaginative and thoughtful, the movie would be a smashing success.

Unfortunately, most of it grows from the simple-minded thinking of “Because it looks cool.” I wondered why Hyperion was so adamant about bringing down the gods or expanding his bloodline when his true passion was clearly the design of ornate masks. Why does Hyperion’s helmet have bunny ears? Why did he bedazzle his mask? What does it tell us about the character? Singh would rather you just admire the craftsman ship and “originality” of his vision, and not care about the why.

Occasionally, Singh gets brilliant. Almost everything with Theseus is shot in brown colors filled with dirt and grime, and the only outstanding visual flourish is one long take of our hero striking down his enemies as he moves down a hallway. When it comes to the gods, Singh lets loose. He delivers one of the best and most cartoony action scenes of the year when the gods finally do battle. There may as well be a combo meter in the top left corner of the screen when the gods wreak bloody destruction and smash apart the everythings of their enemies. Even their violence is beautiful, so who cares that their plans are idiotic and that their helmets are distractingly ridiculous?

Immortals deserves credit for trying to breathe life into what would otherwise be a bland and forgettable sword-and-sandals story. The result is silly and undercooked when it comes to characters and plot, but the movie is fascinating for what it says about its director. If Tarsem Singh could have gotten away with casting himself as Zeus, he probably would have done it.

DVD For Beginners

When I received the DVD for Beginners in the mail last week, I was out of my mind excited. After all, Beginners is one of my favorite films of the year. I couldn’t wait to check out the supplemental material and I’m glad to report the disc doesn’t disappoint.

First things first: the film itself. Mike Mills’ semi-autobiographical tale follows Oliver, played wonderfully by Ewan McGregor, at two very different times in his life. The first timeline follows Oliver’s time with his father Hal (an Oscar-worthy Christopher Plummer), who has recently been diagnosed with cancer and come out of the closet. The second timeline follows Oliver as he embarks on a romance with Anna (Inglourious Basterd’s Melanie Laurent), a French actress staying in Los Angeles. Oliver is kept company at all times by his faithful terrier Arthur. Continue reading for my full review.

Both situations test Oliver greatly. With his father, Oliver is forced to parent Hal, whose mortality only makes him feel more and more youthful. With Anna, the typically shy Oliver must operate outside his comfort zone to keep up with his incredibly outgoing companion. As could be expected, comedyand drama ensues.
Beginners says a lot about what we’re willing to do for the one’s we love, and despite its somewhat typical romantic plot, it never falls into cliché. Anna and Oliver’s “meet cute” works perfectly because of how well defined they are as characters. The movie also works so well because of great performances across the board.

The DVD also includes a commentary track, which I found to be fun, funny and informative. Only Mills speaks, but given that he’s the auteur of the film, it works great. He gives great insight into the writing, production and editing of the film, all in a loose and humble style.

There’s also a behind the scenes documentary that shows a lot of great candid moments from the film’s production. At a brief ten minutes, it’s absolutely worth your time.

Overall, Beginners is without a doubt one of the best films of the year. The DVD (or Blu-Ray) is a must-own for fans of the film or anyone looking for a glance behind the scenes of a great indie romance.

The Movie 'Shame'

Alcoholics are told they’ll never find love in a bottle and drug addicts are told they’ll never find happiness in a needle. But what about sex addicts whose compulsion precludes them from intimacy and love? Steve McQueen‘s Shame delves deep into the life of a sex addict and with laser-like focus examines the pain and torment that can drive such a person away from heartfelt interactions and towards self-destruction. McQueen’s inspired and confident direction coupled with a heart-breaking performance from star Michael Fassbender makes Shame far more than a PSA or a righteous condemnation. McQueen and Fassbender make Shame a devastating powerhouse.

Brandon (Fassbender) is a sex addict who has closed off his life from any emotional contact. He wakes up naked and strolls around his apartment because there’s no one to cover up for, no one to impress. He feeds his sex addiction with hookers, random pick-ups, masturbating in the restroom at work, a steady stream of porn, and hides it all under a cool, calm veneer. His tranquil downward slide is accelerated by the arrival of his ne’er-do-well sister, Sissy (Carey Mulligan). Sissy is Brandon’s inverse. She’s overly emotional, feels everything deeply, and voices her need for comfort. They’re equally messed up, share the same loneliness, but while Sissy has no problem crying for help, Fassbender runs away from any intimacy, especially from his only family and the one woman he’ll never want to sleep with. As Shame unfolds, Brandon’s failed attempts to connect with other people only send him deeper into his own pain and anguish.

Coupled with his debut film Hunger, McQueen demonstrates that he may be one of the smartest directors working today. He once again takes advantage of long, uninterrupted takes that provide his actors with the room to give full, rich performances, but the direction is never stage-y. McQueen always frames his shot perfectly for maximum effect. I was taken in by the subtle power of how the frame almost always keeping Brandon to the far right of the screen. This oft-repeated shot keeps the character trapped, isolated, and unable to cross over and connect with anyone else. It’s a beautiful visual metaphor that never feels heavy-handed.

Just as he can create beautiful tracking shots and exquisite framing, McQueen also knows how to be unrelentingly harsh. There’s a horrific claustrophobia to Brandon’s world. He’s cruelly taunted every time he sees a woman that he can fuck but never love. When McQueen opens the film showing Fassbender’s full-frontal nudity or a nude shot of Mulligan or any of the film’s countless sex acts, it’s not to titillate but to drive us into Brandon’s mindset. McQueen forces us to live in a world where sex is completely joyless. Any director who can take copious amounts of sex between attractive people and make it completely unappealing without being overtly disgusting is some kind of mad genius.

The other mad genius of Shame is Fassbender. He has already given three outstanding performances this year with Jane Eyre, X-Men: First Class, and A Dangerous Method, butShame is his best. Fassbender brings ugliness to charm, anguish to intimacy, and a devastating range of emotions that show a man who clearly can’t even remember the last time he was happy and is clinging to what remains of his corroded soul. On the surface, Brandon shouldn’t be a pitiable character. He’s handsome, wealthy, and gets to have sex with beautiful women. But through Fassbender, we feel every moment of Brandon’s torment.

Fassbender and McQueen are the major stars of Shame but I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Mulligan. She has to stand as Brandon’s mirror, convey just as much suffering, and has less screen-time to do it. Mulligan rises to the occasion and her performance is even better than her acclaimed breakthrough role in An Education. Sissy is a singer and I don’t know if its Mulligan’s voice in the character’s performance of “New York, New York” but it’s a scene that will absolutely break your heart.

Shame is not an easy film. It’s not a film you “enjoy”. It puts you in a choke-hole and then forces you down further and further into the depths of one man’s pain. There’s no humor, no relief, and it’s not a film you want to watch again immediately after seeing it. But you respect every moment.