Monday at the Movies - July 30, 2018

Welcome to another installment of “Monday at the Movies.” This week, a mismatched pair with clowns in common.

Batman Ninja (2018) – Of late, DC have been killing it on their animated offerings, and Batman Ninja is perhaps the weirdest of their successes. The premise is precariously unstable, relocating Batman and his greatest foes to feudal Japan, and yet the film’s creators stick the landing by embracing that manic wildness and careening between set pieces that alternate mad action with eccentric animation choices. I can’t overstate how bonkers Batman Ninja is, with concepts like Gorilla Grodd’s time machine, Robin’s unacknowledged adoption of a monkey sidekick, and a clan of ninja dedicated to the prophecy of the Bat; that’s even before Bane shows up as a sumo wrestler while the other villains build castles that turn into mechanized warriors. In the middle of all this madness is Batman (Roger Craig Smith), who delivers with an impossibly straight face lines like, “Our weapons will be everything that exists.” His level deadpan is matched by Tony Hale’s madcap Joker, who outdoes Buster Bluth’s mood swings by a mile. Watching Batman Ninja, I could not help but think of Mad Max: Fury Road, which I took to task for a similar meandering plotlessness and overemphasis on action sequences dialed up to eleven. Was the difference, then, only that Batman Ninja wore a Batsuit to appease my biases as a comic book shill? Perhaps, but a key distinction is that no two scenes in Batman Ninja are alike; compare Batman’s duel with Joker to the meditative storybook quality of the sequence in which Jason Todd finds an apparently reformed Joker and Harley Quinn (Tara Strong). Fury Road was a two-hour car chase; Batman Ninja is eighty-five unpredictable minutes in which a change in tone, pace, and energy is usually only a few minutes away.

It (2017) – Stephen King adaptations have a hit-or-miss reputation, usually skewing more successfully toward his less supernatural stories (cf. The Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile). I read It at an impressionable age, perhaps around fourteen or so, and vividly recall it as one of the most terrifying novels I’ve ever read. (Thomas Harris’s Red Dragon is up there, too.) I’ve not seen the original miniseries, starring Tim Curry, but I found director Andy Muschetti’s adaptation wholly successful, unsettling in all the right places and bloody terrifying in the rest. Muschetti has the unenviable task of directing a cast of children, which includes Jaeden Lieberher, Sophia Lillis, and Finn Wolfhard. Unlike many child performers, however, the cast of It are remarkably gifted, lacking that trying-too-hard aura that might have plagued another production. The kids all have striking eccentricities that give their performers something to embrace; Lieberher, for one, is adept at giving his Bill Denbrough a stutter, while Jack Dylan Grazer balances comic relief with crippling panic as the hypochondriac Eddie Kaspbrak. Of course, no one comes to It without wanting to talk about Pennywise the Clown, and on this count Bill Skarsgård is really frightening. Jump scares aside, Skarsgård’s Pennywise is this perpetually hungry, partly childlike specter of menace whose savage teeth and yellow eyes belie a physicality that could snap at any moment. From clips, I sense that Tim Curry’s original Pennywise casts something of a long shadow, and Skarsgård has mostly stepped out of that shadow; though the voice feels similar in places, Skarsgård substitutes Curry’s guttural rasp for pitch variances that recall Heath Ledger’s Joker. I admit that I am always skeptical when a novel is broken into parts for multiple films, but It strikes a good chord by consolidating the novel’s “past” segments into one story that doesn’t require you to come back for more. I am, however, more intrigued by It: Chapter Two having seen what a knockout horror film It ended up being.

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

Monday at the Movies - October 29, 2012

Welcome to Week Thirty-Nine of “Monday at the Movies.”  With Halloween coming up this week, here are a few movies that suit the season.

Arsenic and Old Lace (1944) – Directed by Frank Capra (of It’s a Wonderful Life fame), Arsenic and Old Lace is to Halloween what Die Hard is to Christmas – set on the night in question but with little to do with the actual holiday.  Instead, the film flies off on its own fantastic plot, in which the holiday decorations are only incidental.  Here, newlywed Mortimer Brewster (Cary Grant) finds his honeymoon plans deterred when he learns his aunts have a dead body in the window seat; throw in his homicidal brother Jonathan (Raymond Massey, disguised as Boris Karloff), another brother who thinks he’s Teddy Roosevelt, and a drunken Doctor Einstein (personal favorite Peter Lorre), and it’s madcap mania as only the Forties could provide.  Though the plot sounds grim, Arsenic and Old Lace is fantastically funny and is easily one of my favorite movies of all time.  Grant is at his slapstick best, chewing the scenery and pacing frenetically without being “too cool for the room.”  Massey is menacing within the boundaries of a comedy film, and Lorre is as always a scene-stealer of the highest order.  In fact, as with any great film, the supporting cast here is exceptionally strong, with no one performance falling below the bar of excellence set by the film.  The standout scene here is the one in which Jonathan and his aunts haggle over which has killed more people:  Aunts Abby and Martha agree that they’ve killed twelve people, while Jonathan insists he has thirteen kills to his name.  In any other movie, it’d be a dark and dismal moment, but in Arsenic and Old Lace it’s unbelievably hysterical, one in two-hour-long line of memorable scenes.  Now if someone could get on that remake with Robert Downey, Jr. I’ve been planning.

The Shining (1980) – Out of the fog and into the smog, The Shining is a more traditional choice for All Hallow’s Eve.  It’s Stanley Kubrick’s spookiest flick, loosely adapted from the Stephen King novel of the same name.  Whether you think the movie is about Native American genocide or how Kubrick faked the moon landing or if it’s just a story about a guy who goes nuts with his family in the mountains, The Shining is damned creepy.  Jack Nicholson stars as Jack Torrance, new caretaker of the Overlook Hotel during the off-season; slowly but inexorably, Jack is driven mad by the winter weather, the badgering of his wife Wendy (Shelley Duvall), and the interference of potentially supernatural elements.  I first saw the film when I was too young to appreciate it, mistaking the film’s slow-burn approach to horror for sluggish, dry monotony.  As usually works for me, watching it with a crowd changed my perspective on the film, allowing me to savor the unsettling elements of the film and even appreciate the significant changes Kubrick made to the source material.  Nicholson’s performance is classic id, whose insane and wild-eyed mugging for the camera immortalized the “Here’s Johnny!” refrain.  Child actor Danny Lloyd, too, is a fine foil for Nicholson; his contemplative psychic ability is a pitch-perfect counterpoint to Nicholson’s agitated energy without ever allowing the audience to relax. It may not be the best Stephen King movie, but it’s one of Kubrick’s more enjoyable films.

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

The Shawshank Redemption (1994)

Didn't I say Frank Darabont is the undisputed master of adapting Stephen King's writings for the big screen? Had I seen Darabont's work in chronological order, The Shawshank Redemption would have sold me in a way that The Mist already did. As it stands, though, seeing The Shawshank Redemption 14 years after its release (I know, I waited that long?) only solidifies my belief that Darabont-King is as powerful a partnership as Bonnie and Clyde.

I'm quite certain I'm the last person in the world who hadn't seen what IMDB.com consistently ranks in the Top Three Movies of all time, so is a plot summary really necessary? Doesn't everyone already know that this is a testament to the endurance of the human spirit as told through the example of humble Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins) and his wrongful imprisonment in Shawshank? And do I need to highlight Morgan Freeman's equally pivotal and heartfelt role as fellow convict Red? Need I mention the venal and villainous prison staff, corrupt Warden Norton (a gruesomely inhuman Bob Gunton) and cruel Captain Hadley (Clancy Brown, who you'll never believe after this went on to voice SpongeBob's crabby employer Mr. Krabs)?

Do I need to tell you to see this film if you haven't already? This is excellent, moving filmmaking, unflinching in its depiction of prison life and unrelenting in its honest portrayal of integrity. Star performances abound here, from Robbins as the most decent man alive to Freeman who does more than just portray the wise mentor. Neither the direction nor the score call attention to themselves, the hallmark of a job well done.

The pace is leisurely, taking its time to explore character more than generate suspense. The plot meanders, turning to and fro through plot twist after plot twist - the acquisition of Shawshank's library is peaceful but surprising nonetheless. Then the end - in which a poster of Raquel Welch proves to be more important than anyone might imagine (save those who, like me, read Stephen King's original short story, Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption) - drops like a sack of potatoes, and as the film unfolds the truth of what happened the night Shawshank changed forever, your jaw will drop in "I should have seen this coming but wow what an ending!" glory.

Of course this is also the movie that gave us a sterling narration from Morgan Freeman. Freeman's the real reason I rented this one, being more than impressed with his performance in The Dark Knight, and he doesn't disappoint here. Nor does Tim Robbins, of whom I'm not a particular fan but who redeems himself and his character over the course of the movie. Credit a solid screenplay and solidly human acting for this Redemption.

The Mist (2007)

Resolved: if there are to be any more adaptations of Stephen King's writings, Frank Darabont must be behind the wheel. Darabont, the man behind critically heralded King flicks The Shawshank Redemption (which I'll have to get around to seeing one of these days) and The Green Mile (which I commend for being one of the most faithful and most incredible adaptations of any work of literature ever). With 2007's The Mist, Darabont did something risky - change the ending of King's original novella.

And King preferred that ending to his own. Kudos, Mr. D.

Kudos also for making one of the most suspenseful - but perhaps not the scariest - movies I've seen in a long while. By restricting the action of the plot (for the most part) to a supermarket sealed off by a mysterious creature-filled mist, Darabont keeps the film rolling with a cast of characters trying to survive. Thomas Jane (fresh off his "I just want my kids back!" cameo on Arrested Development, a cameo that probably won't be far from your mind) wants to defend his son and escape the creatures outside, supermarket employee Ollie (the fortunately inimitable Toby Jones) is the standard sidekick with a shooting-gallery twist, and Mrs. Carmody (Marcia Gay Harden, who seems to have been snubbed as a Best Supporting Actress) is the obligatory religious nut who believes the mist is an End Times reckoning from on high.

If it sounds a bit formulaic, don't let that fool you. The Mist is anything but. The performances keep the movie from verging on cardboard, and the characters are all thoroughly engaging. Though the film deals with the same themes that King has explored since Salem's Lot - the fact that the supernatural threats are less terrifying than the darkness within ourselves - the film is as disorientingly unfamiliar as the best science fiction.

Then there's the matter of the ending. What do we do with an ending like this one? Is it a desperate plea for the preservation of hope, or simply a brilliant exercise in irony? Is it the destruction of King's ending or the construction of a better one? Or is it a classic example of the theory that gets thrown around a lot when Lost is mentioned - purgatory? Whatever it is, it left me in stunned silence after the credits rolled. I'm not ready yet to assess it as a "great" or "terrible" ending, but I'll say it's unforgettable.

From a critical standpoint it seems as though I'm not saying anything earth-shattering here. Then allow this postulation: Darabont needs to sue J.J. Abrams and the makers of Cloverfield, and fast. I thought Cloverfield was an outstanding accomplishment in the monster suspense genre, but it seems Abrams and Cloverfield director Matt Reeves took more than a few pages from Darabont's what-I-now-realize-as superior film. Shaky cam? Check. Insect-like creatures and a larger crab-like monster? Check. Army presence (and possible culpability)? Check. Lovable character getting devoured by vicious pincer-bearing creature just when escape seems certain? Check. Ambiguous shock ending? You get the picture.

Skip Cloverfield and see what an original movie The Mist is. Leave it to Stephen King to outdo fresher faces in the movie world.