Cinemutants - X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009)

At a time when superhero movies are starting to lose their stranglehold on pop culture, there are really only two options: go back and watch old movies, or kill off an entire cinematic universe in spectacular fashion. This July, Marvel’s taking the latter approach with Deadpool & Wolverine, which seems primed to seal off the 20th Century Fox film universe. And while director Shawn Levy promises, “This movie is built [...] with no obligation to come prepared with prior research,” skipping the research has never really been my strong suit when it comes to franchises. It’s a perfect excuse, then, to go through the last 24 years (and 13 movies) with everyone’s favorite mutants, the X-Men.
 

This week, from 2009, it’s X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Learn the secret origin of James “Logan” Howlett, the Wolverine (Hugh Jackman), as he enlists in a special military group reporting to William Stryker (Danny Huston). When Logan’s brother Victor Creed (Liev Schreiber) begins hunting their teammates, Logan leaves behind a peaceful life with Kayla (Lynn Collins) and submits to an experimental procedure that gives him metallic claws.

1. The best there is at what he does. I almost never rewatch Origins unless I’m doing a thorough rewatch, and it’s not exactly because this is a bad movie. It has a few things going for it, but by and large Origins is a colossal bore. Hugh Jackman is trying, he really is, and he’s got the persona of Logan down perfectly – certainly better than in The Last Stand, at least. But it turns out that the mysterious past of Wolverine is much more interesting when we don’t have all the answers; Origins takes the most boilerplate backstory and grafts it onto Wolverine like so much adamantium. Parental issues? Check. Tragic love story? Check. Hamfisted prequel references? See below. And as for those special effects, it’s hard to think of a movie with effects that have aged worse than this one; Logan’s claws are like floating cartoons, all the wrong size, and the third act is dodgy at best.
2. The kitchen sink. Prequels shouldn’t feel like bullet points, and Act Two of this film reveals that nearly everything distinctive about Wolverine started on essentially the same day: he gets his claws, his dogtags, his motorcycle, and his leather jacket within the same 24-hour period. None of it’s very exciting, and Logan walks into the frame at one point carrying a literal sink in his hands, as if to say they’ve covered it all. But the storytellers have taken the path of least interest to get there, lining the cast with C- and D-list comic book characters as if to trick fanboys into liking the film because of its deep-cut casting. Folks took Solo to task for doing much the same thing, but the key difference was that Solo was fun; it turns out that X2 did Logan’s origins better by refusing to answer all the questions.
3. Koo-koo-ka-choo got screwed. I’ve seen Origins a few times, but I still couldn’t remember all the mutants – their names or their powers. To be fair, this mish-mosh of characters feels like the detritus of who Fox had the rights to use. Kestrel, Bolt, Silver Fox, The Blob, and Agent Zero... were these never-rans selected to save the interesting mutants for non-prequel films? Perhaps not, given that the film also phenomenally squanders the character of Gambit (played by an uncharismatic Taylor Kitsch) who, let’s be real, you and I both forgot was in this movie. He’s mere set decoration in a third act that also throws Cyclops, Professor Xavier, and maybe/maybe not Emma Frost into the mix for what I can only assume to be their availability for the marketing. (We’ll start thinking about messy timelines next week, but despite playing fast and loose with its cast, Origins doesn’t actually break too many eggs.)
4. We’re not like them! The one thing Origins has going for it is its casting. Jackman, naturally, isn’t making any missteps, but Liev Schreiber and Danny Huston are playing much better villains than this picture deserves. The film begins with an arresting credits sequence that shows Logan and Victor fighting in every war, the kind of time-skipping montage that Zack Snyder does so well, but that war sequence is the film I would rather have seen. Schreiber is having so much fun as Sabretooth, genuinely scary but also addictively fascinating to watch; it’s a genuine shame that we never saw this Sabretooth again (unless, fingers crossed, he turns up in Deadpool & Wolverine). Meanwhile, Huston plays a young(er) Stryker as the apex of sinister government banality, never quite trying to do a Brian Cox impression but still carrying that same weighty menace. Any time either one of these guys is on screen, Origins very nearly sings.
5. Take a dip in the ’Pool. Since we’re gearing up for a new Deadpool movie, it’s worth thinking about how the Merc with a Mouth comes off in Origins... and the answer is, really quite badly. In the first act, it’s astonishing how fully formed Ryan Reynolds was as Wade Wilson, how recognizable his snarky charm remained seven years before his solo film proper. But as that third act ramps up, we find that Wade’s mouth has been sewn shut, his swords have been grafted into his arms, and he’s able to teleport and shoot laser beams out of his eyes. Deadpool, this ain’t, and it has a whiff of that mid-2000s self-loathing that comic book adaptations often indulged, pretending that the source material was much too silly for the big screen. Fans hated it, Reynolds kept pushing to do it right, and now fifteen years later Deadpool isn’t a punchline. Well, not like that, at least, but it does become a memorable gag in Deadpool 2, when our Deadpool travels back in time to shoot this Deadpool in the head (and a few other places).

Sound off in the comments, true believers: did we need this Origins? Which X-Men deserved a prequel film? If you thought 1979 was a barrel of laughs, join us next week for 1962, when the whole franchise gets a prequel/reboot with X-Men: First Class.

Lone Survivor (2014)

The box office receipts from this weekend indicate that Lone Survivor is a highly lucrative film, and it’s been compared to Saving Private Ryan.  While I’m not sure it’s as important a film as Spielberg’s take on World War II, it’s a compelling film that renders a true story in riveting detail, even if some of the storytelling itself is a little thin.

Mark Wahlberg stars as Marcus Luttrell, part of a four-man team (comprised also of Taylor Kitsch, Emile Hirsch, and Ben Foster) in pursuit of a terrorist in Afghanistan.  On the outskirts of an Afghani village, the mission goes horribly awry, putting the lives of the Navy SEALs in danger.

I’ll begin by saying that writer/director Peter Berg obviously has an immense respect for the work of servicemen like the ones portrayed in the film, and it’s refreshing to see a film this reverential; his last terrorism-themed movie, 2007’s The Kingdom, had a note of moral equivalency that still doesn’t taste right, but Lone Survivor just exudes a sense of unflinching admiration that might even turn off some cynical viewers.  But, as Phil Coulson says, “People might just need a little old-fashioned.”

Berg’s evident respect for the subject material and for Luttrell, who cameos as a SEAL in a few scenes, means that the combat sequences of the film are realistic and harrowing, highly effective at allowing the audience to feel some of the palpable terror that must come of being in such a situation – ambushed and outnumbered, staring down death.  Consequently, Lone Survivor is one of the more gripping films, and had the ending not been “spoiled” (see the title of the film and Luttrell’s presence on the PR circuits) it might have as suspenseful as Gravity because of how expertly directed both films were.

But Berg’s deft hand at the shootout scenes isn’t limited to just the one note.  Berg also knows when to punctuate the film with moments of levity, opportune placement of lines to elicit a smile or relieve the tension.  (Standout moments include a well-timed duck and a villager’s two-word summary of his opinion of the Taliban.)

What the film doesn’t manage to do very well is characterization.  On one level, portraying the SEALs as everymen allows the audience to put themselves in the soldiers’ shoes, heightening the anxiety of the situation as the danger escalates.  But on the other hand, the film feels a bit distanced when we don’t know much about the men or their personalities (it doesn’t help that some of them look very similar).  It’s not that the performances are bad – Wahlberg manages to suppress his Boston tough-guy persona enough to play up the real-life heroics of war – but the screenplay’s greater strengths lie in the violent action sequences and not in breathing much life into the characters themselves.

I wonder, though, if that’s not intentional.  Berg’s project here is clearly to valorize the real-life men who died during Operation Red Wings, so much so that he ends the film with an extended “in memoriam” montage that plays on the most basic heartstrings in the audience.  (Mine applauded at the end.)  There’s ultimately something missing from the film as a whole, but what we’re presented with is compelling enough and smartly put-together that it almost deserves better than a ghettoized mid-January release.

Lone Survivor is rated R “for strong bloody war violence and pervasive language.”  The violence is really quite brutal and often unpleasant to watch, frequently unrelenting after the first twenty minutes.  F-bombs pervade, as one would expect in a combat zone.

Monday at the Movies - March 19, 2012

Welcome to Week Twelve of “Monday at the Movies.” On the docket this week, an Oscar winning movie, a movie as good as The Wicker Man (2006), and a trip between worlds: in other words, two hits and a miss this week – but oh, what a miss!

The Artist (2011) – This is the second silent film in as many weeks here on The Cinema King, although it might be unfair to label Michel Hazanavicius’s Best Picture winner as such, since the film does feature diegetic sound in several important scenes. While the revisiting of the silent film is a bit of a gimmick, the ways in which Hazanavicius and company subvert the expectations that come along with the genre redeem the film from being merely “that silent film.” I remain unconvinced that The Artist is better than fellow nominee Hugo, but it’s an equally compelling love letter to the cinema and its magic. The acting is, predictably, over-the-top, as all silent performances must be, and lead actor Jean Dujardin has no compunctions about chewing the scenery as necessary while portraying the actor George Valentin and his fall from fame. More restrained, mercifully, is his leading lady Bérénice Bejo, who plays talkies flapper Peppy Miller and can convey more with a wink than a lot of today’s crop of actresses. A few familiar faces round out the supporting cast – James Cromwell, John Goodman, and Malcolm McDowell among them – but all ears must necessarily be on Ludovic Bource’s score, which flounces through the highs and wallows in the lows of George Valentin’s descent. I enjoyed the film and was glad to finally start to catch up on last year’s Oscar frontrunners, although I must confess that there are parts where the film drags and most conventional filmgoers will lose interest. But stick with it; the ending is among the best I’ve seen in recent years.

Drive Angry (2011) – You can always count on Nicolas Cage for a really bad movie, but whether it’ll be an enjoyably bad movie or just a waste of film is always up for grabs. It’s been said that you can judge a Nic Cage flick by how far back his hairline goes, and in Drive Angry we’re getting a lot of forehead. And yes, it’s as bad as all that. In fact, the only thing that redeems Drive Angry from being completely unwatchable is that it seems to be in on its own joke, recognizing how absurd it is and reveling in its own ridiculousness. Nic overacts at level red as John Milton, late of hell, walking – nay, driving – the earth in search of his granddaughter, who’s about to be sacrificed by a satanic cult. Riding shotgun is Amber Heard as ex-waitress Piper, a pretty face who doesn’t do much aside from a fight scene near the middle of the film, and the villainous William Fichtner (recognizable as the bank manager in every film you’ve ever seen) plays The Accountant, who’s looking to return Milton to hell. I didn’t see the film in 3-D, and it’s apparently lost a bit of extravagance in the translation to two dimensions, but one thing the movie isn’t missing is explosions. A credible plot, realistic dialogue, meaningful character interactions, and narrative creativity – all of these are nowhere to be seen in Drive Angry, but at least (to borrow a line from Big Jim McBob and Billy Sol Hurok) it blowed up real good.

John Carter (2012) – It’s a major science fiction franchise, backed by arguably the biggest studio in town and a story by a major author of the twentieth century. Why, then, did it underperform? Taylor Kitsch stars as Civil War vet John Carter, who finds himself transported to Mars, where he’s quickly embroiled in a planetary conflict between the Tharks (led by Willem Dafoe’s voice in the body of a Green Martian), the Red Martians (with their king Ciarán Hinds), evil Sab Than (Dominic “McNulty” West), and the mystical Therns (headed by Mark Strong’s menacing Matai Shang) over the hand of Princess Dejah Thoris (Lynn Collins). Director Andrew Stanton has lent a hand on nearly every Pixar film, but for his first live-action solo outing John Carter is surprisingly good. Critical response has not been kind, and I’m not quite sure why. Granted, John Carter is not the best film you’ll see all year (wait until July for that), but it’s more than diverting; the effects are solid (although the Tharks recall the dismal Na’vi), the cast is strong, and the story is involving (if comprised of several infodumps). The best I can come up with is that John Carter’s biggest detriment is a weak marketing campaign; this ought to be a summer blockbuster, but it’s dumped ignominiously into the middle of March with not a single action figure on the shelves. I’d like to see a sequel, because it seems that the creative team is working very hard to introduce a lot of factions in an uncomplicated manner; I only hope they get a franchise out of it, because the last trilogy with which Andrew Stanton worked on made us all cry over a sheriff doll and a space ranger action figure.

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