Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings (2021)

It’s been a while since we saw a new Marvel movie – and I’m not counting Black Widow, which felt very much like more of the same. I’m not counting Spider-Man: Far From Home or Endgame or Infinity War. No, I’m thinking all the way back to 2018 for this one, because Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings reminded me more of Black Panther than anything else in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Like Black Panther before it, Shang-Chi opens up a new corner of the MCU, introducing us to a much deeper world we haven’t seen while striking a blow for diversifying what a Marvel superhero looks like.

Shang-Chi (Simu Liu) has spent a lifetime running from his father Wenwu (Tony Leung), the immortal leader of the Ten Rings. After a reunion with his sister Xialing (Meng’er Zhang) goes sideways, Shang-Chi and his best friend Katy (Awkwafina) decide to run toward their destiny, which will take them to Ta Lo, the mystical ancestral home of Shang-Chi’s late mother (Fala Chen).

 

While Shang-Chi put me in mind of Black Panther, I have to say that it’s not the instant classic that Black Panther was. Perhaps it’s that star Simu Liu isn’t quite as charismatic as the late Chadwick Boseman, or perhaps it’s the twenty minutes near the end of act two when the film slows down to accommodate too many flashbacks and montages. Shang-Chi isn’t a perfect movie, but it is lots of fun when it’s working. It is more infectious than Black Widow, which felt overly dour in places, and I will take, every time, the chipper pragmatism of Awkwafina’s Katy over David Harbour’s desperate mugging as the Red Guardian.

 

Moreover, I think Shang-Chi is the sort of film that is going to age very well when we see how the film expands the realm of the MCU; to be a Marvel fan is to live with one foot in tomorrow, thinking about how this franchise – now twenty-five films deep – will grow and evolve. In the way that we couldn’t wait to rush back into Wakanda, Shang-Chi creates a world of characters, creatures, and ideas that could fill at least a trilogy of its own. There are certainly theories to be generated about the film’s mid-credits sequence, while the post-credits scene tees up a very intriguing future, but at the end of the day Shang-Chi leaves us all too ready to see more. As much as Simu Liu isn’t Chadwick Boseman (then again, who is?), he’s engaging in a different way, human and quite powerful, and I can’t wait to see him team up with some of the heavy-hitting Avengers. (The presence of Wong, late of Doctor Strange, seems to tee up a natural next appearance.)

 

I’m a few weeks late to the Shang-Chi party, so I’ve read a lot of reviews about what a wonderful villain Tony Leung makes, and I have to agree. As ostensibly the “real” Mandarin (with a healthy helping of shade thrown in the direction of Iron Man 3), Wenwu is fascinating to watch because his goals are clear and distinct from other Marvel villains. He’s not trying to conquer the world or burn it down; his plans don’t, thank goodness, involve a giant laser beam in the sky or a third-act deception. Instead, he’s an undying conqueror with a particular axe to grind, even if we never quite learn how the titular ten rings work (they seem to be able to do everything the plot requires). Leung is never mustache-twirling but rather wholly realized as broken and furious, and his optimism at his short-lived family reunion is heartbreaking.

 

The redress of the Mandarin subplot from Iron Man 3 raises one of the better aspects of Shang-Chi, which may constitute a light spoiler about the cast. (If you don’t know who pops into the film, skip down to the next paragraph; you’ll only miss a spoiler and a brief gush about Awkwafina.) I had rightly predicted, based on some red carpet photos and a curiously-timed upload of the short “All Hail the King” on Disney+, that Sir Ben Kingsley might turn up in Shang-Chi to reprise his role as Trevor Slattery, the actor (“ack-tor”) hired to impersonate the Mandarin. It’s the sort of deep cut into continuity that MCU fans will appreciate, tying up a thread that could have been left to dangle, and Sir Ben has a knack for turning basic prose into comedy gold, as when he muses, “That’s a weird horse.” But the scene-stealer, aside from the toyetic and fluffy headless hundun Morris, is Awkwafina as Katy. Think Michael Peña’s Luis in Ant-Man – and as I type that sentence, I’m ready to pay money for that crossover – with Katy as the source of irreverent comic relief and the occasional Eagles lyric. What’s more, her friends-only chemistry with Simu Liu is a welcome change of pace from the MCU’s stubborn insistence on forcing its attractive leads to kiss.

 

But it wouldn’t be Shang-Chi without a decent martial arts display, and on that front the film succeeds more than once, from a bravura setpiece on a bus to a chase sequence on the scaffolds of Macau. Director Destin Daniel Cretton keeps the camera in close, and the absence of masks lets us appreciate that it’s truly our stars exchanging blows. While the third act of the film does get into Marvel’s overreliance on CGI special effects, the vast majority of the runtime is spent in action sequences where the digital seams aren’t quite as apparent. It’s that reality, that willingness to ground the numinous in the personal, that usually glues the Marvel Cinematic Universe together. I’m not sure what other genres are left to graft onto superhero stories, but Shang-Chi proves that the MCU still has the secret sauce to hold it all in place.

 

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings is rated PG-13 for “sequences of violence and action, and language.” Directed by Destin Daniel Cretton. Written by Dave Callaham, Destin Daniel Cretton, and Andrew Lanham. Based on the Marvel Comics. Starring Simu Liu, Awkwafina, Meng’er Zhang, Fala Chen, Florian Munteanu, Benedict Wong, Michelle Yeoh, Ben Kingsley, and Tony Leung. 

The Grand Marvel Rewatch: Marvel One-Shots

Face front, true believers! Welcome to the final astonishing addition to “The Grand Marvel Rewatch,” designed to get us all sufficiently amped up for Captain America: Civil War, which comes out May 6, 2016. Each Wednesday, The Cinema King casts his eye back upon the twelve films in the Marvel Cinematic Universe and offers five salient observations about the caliber of the films and the way they might play into Marvel’s latest installment in America’s favorite franchise.

Today’s fantastic feature film isn’t a feature film at all – we’ve got five “Marvel One-Shots,” short films released as special features on various Marvel DVDs. Where do these all fit in, and why haven’t we seen more than five? Read on for the answers!

1. The Consultant. If you’ve wondered how Tony Stark got to his postcredits cameo for The Incredible Hulk, The Consultant has your answer – he’s a patsy, sent by Phil Coulson and Jasper Sitwell to sabotage the World Council’s attempt to get Abomination on the Avengers. So much clicks into place here – Stark’s recruitment, apparently too early, of the Hulk is here recast, and we know the World Council has been infiltrated by Hydra, so it makes sense to see them pushing this shadowy agenda. Plus it’s a real treat to see Coulson and Sitwell working together (even though we know the latter is Hydra) in a very mundane fashion, sipping coffee at a diner while guarding the sanctity of the free world. 
2. A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Thor’s Hammer. Okay, this might be my favorite One-Shot, set between Iron Man 2 and Thor (as the title indicates). We get to see Phil Coulson (Clark Gregg) in action, playing with the effortless charm and unassuming physical dexterity required to rescue a gas station from an everyday holdup, even without the help of his firearm. It’s the intrusion of the super on the quotidian, a recurring theme in the MCU, and it’s shouldered by Gregg’s endearing portrayal of a man who’d rather contemplate donuts than deadbeats, but he’ll happily work on both if the occasion calls for it. Did this short demonstrate the potential for Coulson to lead Agents of SHIELD on ABC? It wouldn’t be the only One-Shot to spin-off into the television realm. 
3. Item 47. A worthy epilogue to The Avengers, Item 47 puts Jasper Sitwell on the tail of two civilians (Lizzy Caplan and Jesse Bradford) who’ve recommissioned an inert Chitauri weapon to aid them in a series of bank heists. It’s also the short that introduces us to Felix Blake (Titus Welliver), a recurring figure on Agents of SHIELD. But why we haven’t seen more of Marvel’s Bonnie & Clyde (here, Claire and Bennie – the initials can’t be an accident) is our loss. Depicted as entering SHIELD by the end of Item 47, Claire and Bennie’s fate remains to be revealed. Did they fall to Hydra, as Sitwell did? Or are they still among the angels? Heck, are they even still alive? 
4. Agent Carter. Though Thor’s Hammer is a personal favorite, Agent Carter is ostensibly the greatest One-Shot, not least because it led to a television show of the same name. We get to see Hayley Atwell strut her stuff as Peggy Carter, stick it to the patriarchy, and save the day while sidelining postwar sexism. No wonder they greenlit this for two full seasons! It’s infectiously fun, too, with a compelling narrative that sees Peggy pick up a case. Its microcosmic nature, which sees Peggy promoted to the head of SHIELD in twelve minutes, doesn’t quite jive with the canon of the series, but no one says she has to accept right away. Bonus points for the post-credits shot of Dum Dum Dugan (Neal McDonough) appreciating the innovative swimwear known as “the bikini.” 
5. All Hail the King. To those who, like me, were less than enthused about the decision to turn The Mandarin into a farting drug-addled Brit, you’re in luck – All Hail the King revisits Trevor Slattery (Ben Kingsley) in prison to reveal that there’s a real Mandarin out there who’s none too pleased about the (mis)use of his moniker. Now, it’s unlikely that this’ll ever really be followed up on in great detail, but it does draw a bit more connective tissue between Tony Stark’s abductors from Iron Man and the true Mandarin. But it’s always a treat to see Sir Ben in his element, and a nod to Justin Hammer (Sam Rockwell) confirms that maybe, just maybe, Marvel isn’t done with those Stark nemeses.

Well, folks, that’s it. Another stellar series from the Monarch of Movies, your Cinema King. Captain America: Civil War opens on Friday, so be sure to see it before coming back here on Monday for the full review of Marvel’s latest superhero flick. As always, there won’t be spoilers in the initial review, but if you want to join the conversation you’ve gotta get a ticket! Subscribe above to make sure you don’t miss a single review, Top 10 list, or our next special series. Excelsior!

The Jungle Book (2016)

Why Disney is remaking their animated features as live-action films is, quite honestly, beyond me. Last year I had a “Why does this exist?” reaction to Kenneth Branagh’s Cinderella, finding that it didn’t distinguish itself enough from the original. Now it’s Jon Favreau’s turn to adapt an animated film, The Jungle Book, and I have to say that the end result is much more successful for the tightrope act it performs between fidelity and innovation, to say nothing of the frankly fabulous special effects.

The Jungle Book introduces Neel Sethi as man-cub Mowgli, banished from his adopted wolf pack after his life is threatened by tiger Shere Khan (Idris Elba). With panther Bagheera (Ben Kingsley) at his side, Mowgli travels through the jungle in search of man’s village, encountering a menacing snake (Scarlett Johansson), gigantopithecus King Louie (Christopher Walken), and omnivorous bear Baloo (Bill Murray).

One of the real delights of Cinderella was getting to see Cate Blanchett chew the scenery as the wicked stepmother Lady Tremaine, and it’s as if Favreau decided to turn up the volume to eleven by selecting an all-star voice cast for his remake. The voiceover work is arguably the most compelling aspect of this Jungle Book; Elba is perfectly menacing as the mean-spirited tiger, and there’s something uncanny about recasting Kaa’s slithery speech for Johansson’s husky notes. And as much as I’ll always love Louis Prima and Phil Harris, in their respective roles Walken is sublime and Murray is freshly definitive.

Wisely, and strikingly, the film preserves many of the original songs from the 1967 cartoon, in a way that feels organic to the film. “The Bare Necessities” comes on the heels of Bill Murray’s recent Netflix Christmas special, which allowed the comic actor to flex his crooning muscles, and Murray’s natural charisma comes through clearly, even behind the CGI fur of Baloo. And let’s just say that there will be few moments of pure cinematic ecstasy this year to rival Walken’s recitation of “Ooby-doo, I wanna be like you-oo-oo.”

King Louie himself is a real treat, reimagined from a hepcat orangutan into a colossal ape straight out of Conrad’s Heart of Darkness (like Kipling, wrestling with the legacy of imperialism in India). Behind the computer effects we can discern some of Walken’s own distinctive tics, facial gestures and hand movements as well as his non-pareil intonations. And here’s where Jungle Book really mesmerizes me – like Kaa’s hypnotic eyes, I’m captivated by the fact that all the animals are animated by computers, not by motion capture or animating only the mouths. This is really remarkable stuff that the Disney animators have managed to cook up, and the fact that it never looks phony is perhaps justification enough for updating the 1967 animated film into live action.

Quietly, Favreau has become one to watch, demonstrating an incredible versatility between this, Iron Man, and Chef (and, though it wasn’t as well received, Cowboys & Aliens). Jungle Book proves my hypothesis that Chef was good for Favreau in the sense that it gave him time to find his own voice again after working on blockbuster corporate products for several years in a row. There is something of the same personal vision from Chef balanced by the unabashed wonder that ought to belong to a Disney picture.

News spread like man’s red flower that Jungle Book 2 had already been greenlit. I can only imagine where the narrative will go – unlike the original film, this Jungle Book doesn’t end with a coquettish water girl at man’s village – but more like this will be a welcome addition to the Disney canon.

The Jungle Book is rated PG for “some sequences of scary action and peril.” There are growly animals that chase and menace our protagonists, and scenes in which fire ravages the jungle might intimidate younger viewers.

Heads up, True Believers – we’ll continue to Make Yours Marvel this Wednesday with another installment in “The Grand Marvel Rewatch,” so check back then for 2015’s Ant-Man. Or subscribe above, and receive those missives right in your inbox. Nuff said!

The Grand Marvel Rewatch: Iron Man 3

Face front, true believers! Welcome to the next astonishing addition to “The Grand Marvel Rewatch,” designed to get us all sufficiently amped up for Captain America: Civil War, which comes out May 6, 2016. Each Wednesday, The Cinema King casts his eye back upon the twelve films in the Marvel Cinematic Universe and offers five salient observations about the caliber of the films and the way they might play into Marvel’s latest installment in America’s favorite franchise.

Today’s fantastic feature film takes us to 2013 for Iron Man 3, kicking off Phase Two of the MCU with an old favorite and some new PTSD.

1. Where is everybody? In a comic book world, it’s so easy to have characters meet up for an issue or two – you just check with your editor to make sure the character isn’t dead and then draw them in. Cinematically, with budgets and contracts, that’s tougher, so you get a case like Iron Man 3 where the intervention of SHIELD might have been helpful. I understand that the point is that Tony is a loner, and he’s pretty detached from the world for most of the film, but the fact that this issue never pops up in the film feels a bit like a gaping hole.
2. Speaking of wormholes... The sense of absent Avengers (Bruce Banner’s post-credits cameo aside) is compounded by the fact that the film very self-consciously lives in the shadow of The Avengers and the Battle of New York. This I very much appreciate – someone as grounded and self-centered as Tony Stark would necessarily be very shaken by a near-death experience battling aliens through a giant wormhole in the sky above New York City. And I can’t help but feel that all the questions Tony fields about New York are some meta-commentary from director Shane Black, who very self-consciously enters into a narrative six films in the making and feels the pressure of everyone asking how he’s going to tie it all together.
3. Manda-wrong. It’s been long enough that we can talk about the big Mandarin reveal, right? Namely that Ben Kingsley’s Mandarin is actually a patsy, a persona put on by addict actor Trevor Slattery in service to Aldrich Killian’s master plan. To add insult to injury, the plot twist is accompanied by a few fart jokes. Look, I totally understand why Iron Man 3 goes this way, but I would have much rather seen Iron Man go head-to-head with a terrifying and surprisingly not-racist interpretation of the Mandarin. Instead, the main villain is another well-dressed white guy. (“All Hail the King,” a short on the Thor: The Dark World DVD, suggests that there’s a real Mandarin out there, as well, but the Kingsley interpretation promised so much more than we got.)
4. He is Iron Man. I very much enjoyed the film, and it’s because Shane Black makes a film that is very consistent with the tone of the previous films and the MCU as a whole. That’s predicated largely on the performance of Robert Downey Jr., who treats Tony Stark like a comfortable suit. The film’s closing line, “I am Iron Man,” harkens back to the first film, tells us something about the character’s growth beyond reliance on the metal suits, and tells us that this whole franchise succeeds because of the attitude struck by RDJ back in 2008.
5. Music to my ears. Longtime readers of the blog know I’m a big fan of musical scores; when done right, like in the Star Wars series, the score becomes a character unto itself (or, in the case of Tomorrowland, does more work than the film itself). For all the connective tissue between the films, musically they’ve been somewhat piecemeal. Iron Man 3 is the fourth film starring Tony Stark, with four different composers along the way. Finally, though, Brian Tyler’s Iron Man theme seems to have stuck (due in no small part to Tyler’s work scoring Age of Ultron). Will we hear it in Civil War as well? I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

There’s so much more to be said about Iron Man 3, so be sure to check out my original review. Join me in the Grand Marvel Rewatch over the coming weeks, and hit the comments to share your thoughts about the MCU. And don’t forget to tune in next Wednesday for the next installment, in which we take a closer look at 2013’s Thor: The Dark World. Excelsior!

Exodus: Gods and Kings (2014)

During the Christmas season, we tend to see an uptick in New Testament movies, largely focused around the birth of Christ.  Early this year, we saw the Old Testament get a little representation with Noah, and now we’re turning to the second book with Ridley Scott’s Exodus: Gods and Kings. But where I appreciated Noah’s steps away from the source material (odd though the rock monsters may have been), Exodus turns out to be too devoted to the text without taking advantage of the technical and narrative innovations the film teases.

Christian Bale stars as Moses on the eve of his step-brother Ramses’s (Joel Edgerton) ascension to the throne of Egypt.  After the revelation that Moses was born a Hebrew slave leads to his exile, a visitation from God (“I Am,” in the persona of a small boy) compels Moses to return to free his people, with ten plague-shaped assists from the heavens.

The first thing about Exodus is that it’s very competent. Scott’s direction of the action scenes recalls his good work on Gladiator, and the plague scenes are terrifying for their computer-generated precision.  And of course Bale is doing his usual top-quality work in a performance as Moses that sees him undergo at least two distinct physical changes, two major philosophical paradigm shifts, and frequent conversations with thin air that lack no conviction.

Edgerton is a great Ramses, as well, and the scenes leading up to the plague of the first-born are highly effective.  It’s a shame, though, that some of the editing in the film turns his public executions into punchlines, compromising a more nuanced performance by equating it with mustache-twirling villainy.  Exodus recovers with a strong supporting cast, including Ben Kingsley, Aaron Paul, Sigourney Weaver, and John Turturro as Seti I.

These are all great performers, but they’re not given terribly much to do.  Kingsley is basically shorthand for gravitas, meant to lend weight quickly to the Hebrew elders, and he manages to check off another ethnicity on his career’s bingo card without having much to do outside of two or three scenes.  Ditto for Paul, whose role as Joshua should have been the Robin to Bale’s Batman, so to speak, but he’s mostly set dressing with an unconvincing accent.  Weaver and Turturro are out of the movie in about twenty minutes; a subplot in which Weaver wants Moses dead peters out rather quickly.

The idea that Ramses’s mother is plotting behind his back to assassinate her stepson is a fascinating one, but the film doesn’t know what to do with it.  This is actually a major problem with Exodus because it has so many opportunities to make an original stamp on the Moses story, but it never commits to any of those.  The apparent emphasis on the brother relationship between Moses and Ramses seems like the centerpiece of the film, but it too fades away, never really delivering on even the basic comparison of the two men as leaders of opposing armies (teased by an opening shot of a priestesses reading offal).  Even the idea of God appearing as a small boy is a neat riff, but it’s never more than set dressing when it could have been the defining element of the film (similar to how Noah replaced God for a more sci-fi being called The Creator).

The most interesting subtext in the film is a broader allusion to the history of the Jewish people.  In one scene, assassinated Hebrew slaves are burned en masse, while elsewhere slaves are forced to hide under their homes to evade Egyptian search parties. In these moments, it seems Scott is building an analogy to the Holocaust, and the film’s conclusion, gesturing toward nation-building, seems to weigh heavily on the side of the Israelis in the contemporary conflict over the Holy Land.  A film more dedicated to this analogy would have been an amazing inflection of the story we all know so well, but three scenes in 150 minutes isn’t enough on which to hang a comprehensive interpretation.

Exodus: Gods and Kings isn’t a bad film (a tremendous improvement from the last Scott film I saw, the dismal Prometheus), but it is disappointing for how little it pushes the story beyond what we already know. For anyone who knows the story, even in its broadest strokes, the film won’t hold much suspense or even any emotion beyond a feeling of obligation as events proceed unremarkably.  For all the technical skill at work in rendering lifelike plague sequences, what’s missing is a sense of spectacle, something we saw quite successfully in DeMille’s The Ten Commandments.  Despite the dated Technicolor and the mild doses of camp, DeMille’s original epic had a scope and a pervading attitude of wonder that Exodus is sadly lacking. Exodus isn’t a big-budget remake of The Ten Commandments, just a more precise, condensed, and slightly better-acted version of the same story without the grandeur the narrative demands.

Exodus: Gods and Kings is rated PG-13 for “violence including battle sequences and intense images.”  The standard bevy of plagues is seen here, with boils and insects being particularly grotesque; some combat scenes feature violence without any blood.

Iron Man 3 (2013)

It’s a brave new world, folks.  We’re post-Avengers and entering solidly into what’s been called “Phase 2” of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.  And with a new director at the helm of the centerpiece franchise, how does Iron Man fare against cinema’s greatest enemy – the dreaded threequel?

Come on, it’s Robert Downey, Jr.  Of course it’s fantastic.

Iron Man 3 picks up after The Avengers, with a PTSD Tony Stark (RDJ) tinkering with his metal men in lieu of sleeping.  The suits are all quite fantastic, but Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow) is worried, especially after a few close encounters with empty suits.  Speaking of empty suits, blast from the past Aldrich Killian (Guy Pearce) arrives at Stark Enterprises with an offer that’s too dangerous to be good – hacking into the human brain to augment natural genetics.  And when Tony Stark calls out top terrorist The Mandarin (Ben Kingsley), the Invincible Iron Man finds himself vulnerable and pondering the viability of his very existence.

It’s heavy stuff, vaguely reminiscent of the rock-bottom approach of The Dark Knight Rises.  But make no mistake – RDJ and new writer/director Shane Black maintain all the fun that ought to be the governing spirit of an Iron Man film.  Even the panic attack sequences aren’t deadly serious, deflated by RDJ’s speedy comedic delivery and the script’s wise refusal to submit to cliché; case in point, Tony Stark’s second-act encounter with a young child who helps him out.  It’s an initial eye-roll, but our incredulity is assuaged once we realize that Stark refuses to “learn a lesson” from the kid and indeed willfully disregards the boy’s guilt-trip backstory in favor of a sandwich.

It’s a credit to Black that the film doesn’t feel tonally different from its two Jon Favreau-helmed predecessors.  In fact, Iron Man 3 is equally consistent with the last Black/RDJ team-up, 2005’s brilliant Kiss Kiss Bang Bang.  It’s not just the Christmas setting or the narration (which pays off beautifully in the incredible post-credits sequence), but it’s a consistency of tone, of snappy dialogue, of confident fun that runs through both films.

I can’t emphasize enough how much of this is thanks to another fabulous central performance by RDJ; in fact, most of the other roles are essentially cameos, though no one drops the ball in their smaller parts.  (It’s a shame, though, that we don’t get more Pepper, since her scene in The Avengers was among the best.)  Our two big villains here, Pearce and Kingsley, are right at home in the trappings of a comic book film, though comics fans may wrinkle their nose at liberties taken with each character (Pearce’s role is bigger than Killian’s ever was, while the Mandarin’s presence is reduced).  As Killian, Pearce is reminiscent of Sam Rockwell’s turn as Justin Hammer in Iron Man 2, but without the schlock and quirkiness; Aldrich Killian is deadly menacing, a near-perfect match for Tony Stark (though I still think Jeff Bridges as Obadiah Stane was the best nemesis).  As for Kingsley, his Mandarin isn’t your granddaddy’s Oriental wizard; updated for the film as the new face of terrorism, Kingsley brings in his trademark any-ethnicity-goes approach and drawls out threats that downright drip doom.

And as War Machine/Iron Patriot, Don Cheadle gets more action sequences than last time, both in and out of the suit.  The case of Iron Patriot raises a key point about the film; where The Dark Knight Rises spent so much time working toward the symbolic significance of the costume, Iron Man 3 revisits the first film’s closing line – “I am Iron Man” – in search of some greater truth about its protagonists.  It almost seems like an effective metaphor for changing creative teams:  you can paint the suit any color you like, you can strap on any number of accoutrements, and you can even blow up as much of the trappings as you like.  Because what really matters is the person inside the suit.  You need to get the character right for any of the rest of it to work.

And in that respect, Iron Man 3 succeeds.  It evolves the character of Tony Stark in a number of intriguing ways, and the promise that “Tony Stark will return” (shades of James Bond?) was never more fascinating.  See you in Avengers 2, Tony.

Iron Man 3 is rated PG-13 “for sequences of intense sci-fi action and violence throughout, and brief suggestive content.”  There’s a modest amount of blood in scenes that involve iron-suited fisticuffs, as well as an unsettling heat signature around most of the enemies in the movie; as for suggestive content, Tony Stark meets women, some of them in bikinis.  You can imagine how that conversation goes.

Don’t forget tomorrow is the Double-Oh-Seventh of the month, and you know what that means...

Monday at the Movies - February 18, 2013

Welcome to this week’s edition of “Monday at the Movies.”  On the dock for today, two films marketed as comedies – but which one is actually funny?

The Dictator (2012) – Look, I’m a big fan of Sacha Baron Cohen, both his prankumentary style (which he perfected in 2006’s Borat) and his more traditional character work (with which he stole Les Misérables).  On the surface, The Dictator ought to be a delightful blend of those two – a scripted comedy about a hapless Middle Easterner with a ludicrous accent.  Instead, what you get is a confused and barely-funny satire of... well, the film never quite focuses on one target long enough for a sustained take on Arab dictatorship, college yuppie liberalism, or American democracy.  Any one of these could be the subject for a clever comedy, but the odd melding of the three leaves us uncertain who we’re supposed to root for.  Cohen plays Admiral General Aladeen with his usual enthusiasm, but he’s pumping air into a disappointingly lifeless script which is, for vast stretches, entirely without laughs.  Many of the gaffes are predictable, elongated beyond their worth, or just plain unfunny, and even Cohen’s trademark disappearance behind the character isn’t enough to engage the audience.  There are a few chuckles to be had – cameos by John C. Reilly and a self-deprecating Megan Fox gesture toward a palpable and intriguing direction for the film – but mostly the film seems unsure what it wants to be and tries to be all those things at once, making for a very disunified whole.  The film is a lot like Ben Kingsley’s role therein (yes, Sir Ben costars):  you don’t quite know how so many talented people got into such a mess, but you’re disappointed that they’re not doing better work.

21 Jump Street (2012) – Nothing about this movie screams success; in fact, nothing about the film should work.  A remake of an ’80s TV show, 21 Jump Street stars Channing Tatum and Jonah Hill as undercover cops in a high school where new illegal drugs are being distributed.  I repeat:  no part of that sentence has really ever worked in a movie before.  Yet there’s something about 21 Jump Street that is surprising in a very good way:  the movie is very funny, rather clever, and just downright better than it ought to be.  Hill and Tatum have tangible chemistry as partners, best friends, and pseudo-brothers; they play off each other like Simon Pegg and Nick Frost do in Shaun of the Dead (among others), exploiting each other’s foibles while working together to accomplish their goals.  The film is incredibly self-aware, with many characters acknowledging and poking fun at the fact that Hill and Tatum look far too old to be high schoolers, but the film’s greater strength is its funny script given life by a bevy of talented supporting cast members.  It’s almost enough just to mention their names – Nick Offerman, Ellie Kemper, Rob Riggle – because their work is reliable and solid.  (Kudos also to Ice Cube, who practically steals the show as a self-conscious walking stereotype who shouts about Miranda rights and “Korean Jesus.”)  And yes, that original 21 Jump cast member makes a fun appearance, too.  A surprisingly entertaining entry from a team that’s never really delighted me before, 21 Jump Street deserves more than the casual brush-off its premise usually elicits.

That does it for this week’s edition of “Monday at the Movies.” We’ll see you here next week!

Monday at the Movies - February 27, 2012

Welcome to Week Nine of “Monday at the Movies.” Last night was Oscar night, and I realized I only saw one out of the nine nominated Best Picture films, but there seemed to be a few other films that cropped up in the acting categories. I’ve already reviewed The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Rango, and Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, so here are two more Oscar-nominated films from the past year.

Bridesmaids (2011) – Touted as “The Hangover for ladies,” Bridesmaids is something more than that because, rather than repeat a line of gags (as funny as those are in The Hangover), the film goes for an actual story anchored by a series of absurdly escalating vignettes around wedding planning. Because it was billed as “for ladies,” I was surprised by how much bathroom humor was present (saying something, I think, about gender politics in 2011) – not that I don’t find that kind of humor extremely funny, as when bad Brazilian food induces Maya Rudolph to defecate in the middle of the street (beneath the folds of a wedding dress, for those who have delicate constitutions). Melissa McCarthy snagged a Best Supporting Actress nomination for her outgoing and outrageous performance as raunchy bridesmaid Megan, although I’m not sure that anyone expected the nomination; it’s certainly strong acting, but nothing about it screamed “Oscar!” for me. In part, that’s because the ensemble cast in the movie is also strong – Jon Hamm as a sleazy beau, Rose Byrne as the one-upping aspirant to the “maid of honor” title, and the sweet and clean-cut Ellie Kemper who doesn’t quite get enough screen time. It’s ultimately not as rewatchable as The Hangover, but it’s not two hours that I regret spending in the first place.

Hugo (2011) – I’ve made no bones about the fact that I’m a huge Martin Scorsese fan, and the promise of his first 3-D movie was enough for me to give the entire visual gimmick a second try. Here’s another case of a film being billed as something it isn’t – I was told this was Scorsese’s “children’s film” made for all-ages as distinct from his other, more violent work. But the film is actually Scorsese’s love song to the work of early cinema pioneers like Georges Méliès, whose Voyage to the Moon plays a pivotal role in the film. Young orphan Hugo (Asa Butterfield) lives in a train station with his late father’s few belongings, including a mysterious key-operated automaton. The key comes into his life around the neck of Isabelle (Chloe “Hit Girl” Moretz), leading Hugo into a brave new world populated by cinematic dreams and hope for a magical future. I don’t want to spoil many of the little delightful surprises tucked into this deceptively complex film, but beyond the remarkable ensemble cast (including Sacha Baron Cohen as the sneaky station security, Michael Stuhlbarg as film historian René Tabard, and Sir Ben Kingsley as a train station toymaker) there’s a particularly strong soundtrack offered by Howard Shore, catchy and whimsical without losing sight (or sound?) of the powerful emotions the film elicits. As a meta-reflection on the magic of the movies, Hugo doesn’t disappoint and will leave audiences wistfully and blissfully satisfied.

That does it for this week’s edition of “Monday at the Movies.” We’ll see you here next week!

Shutter Island (2010)

I’ve never actually gone crazy - at least, not clinically. But Martin Scorsese’s Shutter Island might be the closest I’ve come to a brush with insanity.

Scorsese’s 21st film - the latest in a long and impeccably significant history - isn’t a typical filmic descent into madness. It’s more like being thrown into the deep end of a freezing cold swimming pool, equally disorienting and inescapably gripping.

After a months-long delay in the theatrical release (a real tragedy for the film’s Oscar chances), audiences have seen the trailers for Shutter Island and so are already familiar with the basic premise: Mentally unhinged U.S. marshal Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio) goes in search of an escaped convict/patient at an island-based mental institution off the coast of Boston. While searching Ashecliffe Hospital with his new partner Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo), Teddy finds himself combating a hurricane and a subversive institutional staff (led by Sir Ben Kingsley).

The real narrative, though, takes place within Teddy’s mind, as headaches and delusions begin to muddle his investigation. The line between reality and delirium becomes blurred, and it’s here that DiCaprio gets a chance to shine; indeed, this might be DiCaprio’s top performance, even besting his last outing with Scorsese in 2006’s The Departed.

Surrounded by an omnipresent cloud of smoke pluming from his pipe, Kingsley almost steals the show with his turn as the shady Dr. Cawley, continually dodging questions and requests for help in favor of his own personal agenda. And just wait until that agenda is revealed, because it’s one of the most alarming twists in recent American film history - which, I suppose, owes as much to the Dennis Lehane book on which the film is based as it does to Scorsese’s penchant for last-reel shockers.

But the true star here is Scorsese himself. No, he doesn’t appear on screen as he has in previous films (his taxicab confession is arguably the spookiest part of Taxi Driver), but what Scorsese does from behind the camera is masterful. From the opening moments of the film, Scorsese puts the viewer on edge, forcing us to orient ourselves first on a buoyant ferry and then en route to a high-security zone of an island so eerie we expect Matthew Fox to come running out of the treeline at any second.

Sorry, Lost fans: There’s no time-skipping or black smoke monsters on this island, but there is a pervading sense of imminent danger from the environment and its inhabitants, an unsettling air of mystery keeping the plot’s solution just out of reach. As Scorsese reveals Teddy’s past in a curious blend of flashback and hallucination, we get to see a master at work; Scorsese is like an expert puppeteer who knows exactly how to manipulate what he wants us to see.

A prime example of Scorsese’s skill as a filmmaker comes when Teddy and Chuck find their way into Ward C of Ashecliffe Hospital, the building in which the most dangerous patients are housed. At once claustrophobic and nerve-racking in an “I know the killer is just around the corner” kind of way, Scorsese’s direction puts the audience on edge until Teddy, relieved, escapes Ward C with his life and a fistful of questions - a literal fistful, in the case of a hospital document that becomes central to the film’s climax.

What filmgoers will be discussing most when the credits roll is exactly the film’s climax and its falling action, but to treat Shutter Island as if it were a puzzle film on the order of Christopher Nolan’s mind-bending Memento might be to do a disservice to the movie Scorsese has crafted. The psychological thriller isn’t exactly Scorsese’s trademark - he’s more at home with violent stories about the conflict between family and duty - but many other reviewers are already noting a serious debt to the canon of Alfred Hitchcock. As thrillers go, Shutter Island is certainly up there with Hitch’s Psycho and Rear Window.

Just try not to go crazy watching it.
Like every Scorsese movie, Shutter Island gets an "R for disturbing violent content, language and some nudity." There's some blood, as well as disturbing flashbacks with Holocaust overtones and a graphic suicide. A few F-bombs (also standard Scorsese fare) and a brief glimpse at naked prisoners pepper the flick.

Trailer Park: Shutter Island (2009)

Finally, Martin Scorsese is coming back to the big screen. After 2006's The Departed (which still may or may not be my favorite movie of all time), Marty's bringing Dennis Lehane's novel to cinemas while carrying along some familiar faces - and that beloved Bawstuhn accent that's supplanted the Italian vernacular in Marty's catalog.

Of course I think this movie looks spectacular. Leo's finally becoming a real actor, Ben Kingsley is just so creepy as a doctor who I'm sure is hiding something, and the tension is high as a kite in this trailer.

Concerns? A) The trailer seems to be giving away a lot. B) It seems to be mismarketed as a horror movie, which I'm quite sure it isn't. Everything I've read about the film points to it being a mystery/thriller with a question about blurring the line between fact and fantasy, between reality and hallucination. Of course, how do you convey that in a trailer? How do you draw audiences in for a tight psychological thriller?

Simple: put Martin Scorsese's name on the trailer.

Shutter Island drops into theaters on October 2, 2009.

For more information about the film, take a peek at http://www.totalfilm.com/features/on-set-shutter-island, which focuses a lot on the look and feel that Scorsese is seeking for this film. Plus, some pretty pictures.

An Open Letter to Sir Ben Kingsley

(admittedly this is not the sort of thing The Cinema King does... although I felt incredibly strongly about the direction of Sir Ben's career. perhaps you'll see more of these "Open Letters" in the future)

Dear Sir Ben:

First of all, congratulations on an outstanding career thus far. Winning the Oscar for your portrayal of Gandhi was a well-deserved moment of glory for an actor of your caliber. While I admit I haven't seen all of the biopic, what I have seen is marvelous, immersive in a way I label very few performances.

I'm writing not as a critic or as a mean-spirited naysayer but as a concerned connoisseur who hates to see a good wine go sour. Moments ago, I overheard that you would be appearing with Regis & Kelly on Monday. Felicitations! A new Sir Ben movie! Yet my intrigue was tempered with maddened frustration when I heard that Demi Lovato, another divining rod of the Disney media blitzkrieg (to which I'll admit I succumb from time to time), would be joining you.

I wasn't mad, because I know you have no control over who appears on talk shows before and after you. And I further concede that I know little about Ms. Lovato or her acting prowess; though I admit to having seen a few episodes of her Disney short-sitcom As the Bell Rings, I can't speak to her ability to guide a motion picture, being that I refuse on several grounds to watch Camp Rock. No, it wasn't Ms. Lovato that got me a little bit worried.

It was the fruits of my impulse to see what your latest project was that you'd be promoting that sparked this letter. Now I know that you're a fine actor; everything of yours that I've seen has been splendid. Snippets of Gandhi, Schindler's List, House of Sand and Fog, Lucky Number Slevin, and You Kill Me (which, if you read this, has been reviewed glowingly on this blog already) are just a few of the shining moments in cinema that have your name attached. Heck, your self-parodic cameo on The Sopranos made that episode one of the best of the season.

But with all due respect, come on. I have no doubts that you give your all to every project that you undertake, and I'm certain that your performances in the films I'm about to bemoan are of the quality you always give. I'm just a little leery of a career turn that includes Hilary Duff and Mary-Kate Olsen. Sir Ben, you're a marvelous actor. While I concede once more that I haven't seen the films (and perhaps they're better than I anticipate), I'm confident that War, Inc. and The Wackness aren't using your talents to their full potential - though you assuredly are turning in the same caliber of work that you always do.

Wait, I forgot. BloodRayne? A Uwe Boll film? Sir Ben, I beseech you - doing a Uwe Boll movie is a surefire career killer. Much as I adore your body of work (and as quirky as I find Michael Madsen), I couldn't sit through BloodRayne. And hold the phone. That's you in The Love Guru? Heavens to murgatroyd! I sincerely hope that this dismal waste of your talents came with a suitably hefty paycheck, because Mike Myers hasn't done a good movie since Austin Powers. Even you, with your Atlas-like shoulders of acting, wouldn't be able to support the movie beyond a crushing catastrophe. I'm also a little bit unnerved that you had a hand in Thunderbirds, the live-action version of the puppetry camp-fest, but I think I'm more upset that commercials are heralding the film as "Starring Vanessa Hudgens!" while you're not even shown in the TV teasers. Again, not your fault.

But wait. You're co-starring in the new Martin Scorsese movie, Ashecliffe, due October 2, 2009? Forget it. There's hope. I suppose I can stomach a Love Guru if it means I get you and Scorsese in one celluloid bundle.

Signed,

The Cinema King

You Kill Me (2007)

"My name is Frank, and I'm an alcoholic."

Frank (Sir Ben Kinglsey) is also a hitman for the Polish mafia in Buffalo in John Dahl's You Kill Me. Dahl - and a riveting performance by Kingsley - succeed in making an alcoholic murderer an endearing protagonist, so it's a good thing that the film doesn't rely on anything but the character of Frank Falenczyk.

Frank, who's been sent by "the family" to San Francisco to dry out, meets up with an AA sponsor (an understated Luke Wilson) and falls in love with a girl named Laurel (Tea Leoni). That's just the first act of the movie, and for me to describe in any detail the second half of the film would be to give away a few plot surprises, including whether or not Frank manages to stay sober - perhaps a bigger challenge than rival mobster O'Leary (Dennis Farina).

The script by Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely is one of the funnier ones from 2007 with enough laughs to keep the movie clipping along without getting bogged down in a punchline-a-thon. And a great deal of the laughs come from Kingsley's intense portrayal, wherein he never seems to break character. Although he doesn't look Polish and doesn't always sound Polish, Kingsley forces you to believe that he is Frank.

I called Luke Wilson "understated" because he seems at times to have phoned in his performance, alternating between genuine concern for Frank's sobriety and empty presence on the screen. Ditto for Tea Leoni, who is supposed to be playing a complex wounded bird but who never seems to get anything across with her role other than a body for Kingsley to face as he delivers his lines. Dennis Farina and Philip Baker Hall, as rival mob bosses in Buffalo, are interesting, but they're not given enough screentime and so function as buffers between scenes about Frank.

There are a lot of better movies than You Kill Me, but this is a smart comedy - short and sweet. I can't praise Kingsley enough for really immersing himself in the role, and I'm afraid I have little else to say about the film. So let's just say this - if Alcoholics Anonymous was this fun, we'd have more in recovery.