Iron Man 3

As much as I've (mostly) enjoyed Marvel's superhero flicks, they're in serious danger of over-saturation. The Avengers' mammoth success last year means we're entitled to seemingly endless spinoffs. There's a new Thor coming in November; sequels to Captain America and Incredible Hulk aren't far off. These of course are lead-ins to The Avengers 2, set for a May 2015 release. Unless moviegoers tire of them, Marvel will mine this vein long after its quality peters out.

Currently doing boffo box office, Iron Man 3 shows the formula nearing critical mass. In 2008, Tony Stark's debut proved a pleasant surprise: exciting, witty, with a career-reviving turn by Robert Downey Jr. Iron Man 2 (2010) proved a solid follow-up, adding memorable villains and S.H.I.E.L.D. lore to the mix. This third installment offers little beyond over-the-top action, forcing Downey to carry it single-handed.

Tony Stark's (Robert Downey Jr.) still recovering from the events of The Avengers, suffering periodic flashbacks and anxiety attacks. Stark's life isn't made any easier when a terrorist called The Mandarin (Ben Kingsley) launches several mysterious terrorist attacks, or when smooth businessman Adrian Killian (Guy Pearce) puts the moves on Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow). Turns out Killian's involved in a high-ranking conspiracy with the Mandarin, using ex-servicemen as guinea pigs in a super soldier experiment. Tony's suit becomes temporarily grounded: he must rely on Colonel Rhodes (Don Cheadle) and an annoying kid (Ty Simpkins) to help unravel Mandarin's plot.

The best superhero movies achieve the right balance of sincerity and fun. Movies like Richard Donner's Superman, Tim Burton's Batman flicks and, well, Iron Man are grounded enough to invest the audience  without forfeiting their sense of wonder. Lean too far in the former direction and you get bloated pseudo-epics like The Dark Knight Rises and Watchmen, who try desperately to wring profundity out of mumbly bats and giant blue nudists. The other extreme is even worse: see The Fantastic Four, Superman IV or (shudder) Batman and Robin.

This is the best framework to analyze Iron Man 3, which otherwise offers little to discuss. Director Shane Black displays a hackish disregard for story or characterization. Despite one or two neat twists (namely the Mandarin reveal), the movie cribs its ideas from other action flicks, including The Terminator (Killian's fire-scarred resilience) and Black's own Lethal Weapon 2 (the dockyard finale). The action proves exciting but provides few unique thrills, all computer-aided flash that could be copy-and-pasted into this summer's other blockbusters. This reaches its nadir in the finale, when Tony amasses a team of Iron Men (ho, hum) to save the day. It's all sound and fury, only signifying another sure $1,000,000,000 in Marvel's bank.

Robert Downey Jr. keeps things float. To his immense credit, Downey remains fully immersed in Tony Stark, avoiding the money-grabbing dourness of, say, Johnny Depp in the Pirates of the Caribbean sequels. He's still bantering with Pepper and putting down villains with aplomb, showing character development as he distances himself from his playboy past. Too bad Black and cowriter Drew Pearce remake him into a faux-James Bond, infiltrating the Mandarin's HQ with a zip gun, then saddle him with a tech-savvy moppet escaped from a lesser Spielberg flick. Downey nonetheless keeps Tony's core appeal (snarky wit and flawed personality) intact.

His co-stars aren't so lucky. Gwyneth Paltrow is downgraded to bitchy girlfriend/damsel-in-distress until a plot-convenient twist. Don Cheadle is all but absent for the first 90 minutes, turning up as Tony's action sidekick for the last reels. Guy Pearce makes a thoroughly colorless villain, no match for Jeff Bridges, Mickey Rourke or even Sam Rockwell in charisma or menace. Newcomers like Rebecca Hall's (Frost/Nixon) scientist/ex-paramour and Miguel Ferrer's duplicitous Vice President make zero impression. Only Ben Kingsley shines, in an unexpectedly hilarious turn; to say he isn't what he seems is a massive understatement.

Iron Man 3 is thoroughly disposable. After achieving a solid balance up to now, Marvel starts tilting in the direction of mindless frivolity. Here's hoping they stop before we get Iron Man and Robin.

Judge Dredd (1995)

Last summer an adaptation of comic strip antihero Judge Dredd lasted about five minutes in theaters despite good reviews. One imagines it was tainted by association with Dredd's previous screen endeavor.

Judge Dredd (1995) is every bit as bad as you've heard. Director Danny Cannon transforms John Wagner and Carlos Ezquerra's satirical creation into a painfully routine Sylvester Stallone vehicle. The movie has moments of camp fun, but it's mostly paint-by-numbers.

Joseph Dredd (Sylvester Stallone) is an elite judge in futuristic Mega-City One, given the power to summarily enforce the law. Dredd's recklessness worries both Chief Justice Fargo (Max Von Sydow) and sidekick Hershey (Diane Lane). After Dredd's brother Rico (Armand Assante) breaks out of jail he frames Dredd for the murder of a journalist. Dredd gets drummed out of the judges while Rico and crooked Judge Griffith (Jurgen Prochnow) scheme to restart the Janus project, creating an army of cloned Judges. Joined by wisecracking convict Fergie (Rob Schneider), Dredd escapes prison and returns to set things right.

Judge Dredd, the comic series, originated in 1977 as a strip in the anthology 2000 A.D. Joseph Dredd became one of Britain's best-known comic book heroes, a vicious deconstruction of the Hollywood action hero. Dredd has super-legal powers to arrest, "judge" and execute suspected criminals. The loose cannon antics of Harry Callahan or Paul Kersey become overt fascism, to a point where even Dredd doubts the system's righteousness.

Logically, Hollywood transformed this dark satire into a heroic shoot-'em-up. Dredd kills people but his main crime is lacking the emotion to connect with Judge Hershey. The Judge system is criticized only insofar as bad guys like Rico and Griffith subvert it. The movie carries over the idea of Dredd and Rico as a "split personality," law as righteous and repressive, respectively. But this intriguing subtext gets lost amidst endless action, shameless scenery chewing and painful Rob Schneider gags.

From a box office standpoint this dumbing-down is understandable, and if Dredd were Lethal Weapon I'd be more forgiving. Given the movie's ostensible pedigree however, it's hard to swallow. Like a warped inversion of Verhoeven's Starship Troopers, Dredd turns a pointed anti-conservative text into a celebration of vigilantism. Call me a hand-wringing liberal, but Dredd becoming a slightly nicer Brownshirt doesn’t seem like a happy ending.

Dredd doesn't offer much else. Cannon keeps things moving briskly but the action scenes are forgettable. Most memorable is Rico's robot henchman, who manages more personality than his human co-stars. There's lots of faux-Blade Runner future imagery that, if not inventive, at least avoids the gaucherie of Joel Schumacher's Batman films. That's qualified praise indeed with Alan Silvestri providing the score… But mostly Dredd isn't painfully bad, just dull.

Sylvester Stallone weathered an abominable patch of films between Rocky III and Cop Land; even Stallone's most avid fans won't defend Cobra or Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot. Predictably, Sly plays Dredd as a bellowing, unemotive, mass murdering meathead. It's bizarre watching Stallone scream "I am the law!" and related outbursts without a fleck of emotion. If Dredd had an ounce of cleverness I might consider Stallone's turn self-parody.

Apparently Sly was determined not to be the film's worst actor, casting two abominable co-stars. Armand Assante gives a villain turn of outstanding awfulness. Assante can be good but not while screeching LAAAAAAAAAW! with spittle gushing from his gnarly maw. I guess 48 Hrs. made action movie sidekicks mandatory, but why must we endure Rob Schneider? It's like having Adam Sandler hang out with The Terminator.

The supporting cast emerges unscathed. Diane Lane is a fetching sidekick though Hershey remains strictly one-dimensional. Max Von Sydow, Joan Chen, Jurgen Prochow, Scott Wilson and Maurice Roeves deserve medals for handling throwaway roles with uncommon skill. Indeed, Von Sydow makes Fargo's disgrace almost poignant.

But even the star of The Seventh Seal can't save Judge Dredd. More than anything else it's boring, and that's one failing Groggy can't abide.

Batman: The Burton-Schumacher Saga

With the third and last (?) Christopher Nolan Batflick behind us, it's time to revisit the Tim Burton/Joel Schumacher franchise. Nolan's gritty approach won over critics, comic fans and mass audiences but the earlier installments were extremely popular in their day. They certainly don't deserve to be uniformly written off as inferior hack jobs.

Make no mistake: the Batman films were the movie event of the '90s. Those movies were marketed to a degree unheard of even for summer blockbusters. I'm just old enough to remember the endless barrage of TV ads, toys and Happy Meals accompanying Batman Forever and Batman & Robin. The first Batman sold an amazing $750,000,000 in merchandising alone. That's of course ignoring their gargantuan box office take; even Batman & Robin did solid business.

Surely studio hype deserves some credit, but moviegoers likely appreciated a Batman more grounded than goofy Adam West reruns. Richard Donner's Superman films showed there was a market for earnest comic book flicks, rescuing the genre from its camp doldrums. Certainly Batman was due for a revamp after Frank Miller and Alan Moore's angsty, brooding '80s update of the character. The formula worked swimmingly until Tim Burton left... but we'll get there momentarily.

Batman (1989, Tim Burton)

Batman (1989) is easily the series' best, with Burton ably mixing his goth chic style with superhero trappings. Coupled with some inspired casting, it's a fun ride.

Millionaire playboy Bruce Wayne (Michael Keaton) moonlights as Batman, a masked vigilante targeting Gotham City's underworld. He finds his archnemesis in Jack Napier (Jack Nicholson), enforcer for mob boss Carl Grissom (Jack Palance) who reinvents himself as The Joker after a nasty chemical accident. The Joker menaces Gothamites with several bizarre schemes, including tainted make up and mime hit squads. Batman fights Joker while romancing Vicki Vale (Kim Bassinger), a snoopy photojournalist.

Batman achieves the right balance: it's relatively serious without neglecting comic book stylization. Burton sublimates his style to the material, mixing brooding noirish scenery with cool '40s retro fashions and weaponry. The action scenes make perfect use of Burton's mis en scene: a shootout in a chemical factory, Joker and goons trashing an art museum, a rooftop fight reminiscent of Charade. Danny Elfman contributes a marvelous score, with Prince's songs a solid addition. Aside from some awkward animated effects, the movie's technically faultless.

Michael Keaton proves a surprisingly solid Batman. Not an imposing physical presence, Keaton handles the action well-enough and scores as a quietly haunted Bruce Wayne. Jack Nicholson's Joker is an even bigger home run. Nicholson cuts loose with an endless barrage of weird sight gags, twisted make-up jobs and nonsensical rants. He's silly and menacing in equal measure, a perfect super-villain.

Michael Gough and Pat Hingle appeared throughout the series as Alfred Pennyworth and Commissioner Gordon. Hingle is completely wasted but Gough nails his role with droll suavity. Kim Bassinger makes an appealing love interest. Billy Dee Williams has a few scenes as Harvey Dent, a role he sadly didn't reprise in Batman Forever.

Batman's main failing is the story, a collection of set pieces and character moments without much drive. Most egregious is altering the Joker's back story, making him the killer of Bruce's parents. This reduces Batman from a conflicted vigilante to a simple avenger, something Nolan's flicks wisely avoided. Not to mention Alfred inexplicably letting Vicki into the Batcave... But Burton makes the ride so enjoyable these seem trivial.

Batman Returns (1992, Tim Burton)

Batman Returns is the franchise's most divisive entry, fans either calling it the best or overly dark. I'm more sympathetic to the latter viewpoint, though "darkness" isn't the problem. Rather, it's a Tim Burton flick with an abundance of his annoying quirks. Fortunately, Returns has enough inventive elements to remain watchable. 

Oswald Cobblepot is a deformed child raised by penguins in Gotham's sewers. Naturally he grows into the Penguin (Danny DeVito), who reemerges with help of unscrupulous businessman Max Shreck (Christopher Walken) as candidate for Mayor of Gotham. Bruce Wayne falls for Selina Kyle (Michelle Pfeiffer), who happens to be Shreck's secretary. After Shreck tries to kill her for stumbling on a plan for scamming Gotham, Selina becomes the vengeful Catwoman. She teams up with the Penguin to destroy Batman, unaware of his secret identity.

Batman Returns embodies everything irritating about Burton's directorial style. It's annoyingly twee in a way its predecessor avoided, all nauseating goth whimsy and self-conscious weirdness. Burton's touches grow increasingly asinine, from Shreck's cartoon cat logo to Penguin's rubber ducky vehicle. Worse, so much time is spent on villain back stories that Batman becomes a bit player. Instead of meshing with the material as with Batman, Burton's direction reeks of self-indulgence.

Michael Keaton is overshadowed by the grotesque villains. Christopher Walken does best underplaying his vicious tycoon. Danny DeVito mugs, leers and cackles, ghoulishly made up like an ovoid Alistair Sim. Amusing at first, his schtick grows tiresome after 126 minutes. Michelle Pfeiffer's Catwoman is poorly conceived as a feminist avenger ("Life's a bitch and so am I!") with no reason to hate Batman, aside from his testicles. Keep an eye for Paul Reubens and Vincent Schiavelli in bit parts.

Batman Returns isn't a total loss. The baroque satire of a Mayoral candidate leading in the polls after publicly biting off a man's nose is too rich to discount. Burton and scribe Daniel Waters keep the narrative taut despite its trio of villains. Burton again does a good job with the action, even silly bits like Penguin's driving simulator and the mass penguin attack. And best of all, the movie remains relatively serious for all its weirdness. With Burton's departure, these elements vanished.

Batman Forever (1995, Joel Schumacher)

Batman Returns is a downgrade from the original, but Batman Forever is a disaster. Tim Burton got "kicked upstairs" to producer, with Michael Keaton departing as well. Into their respective places stepped veteran hack journeyman Joel Schumacher and notoriously difficult Val Kilmer. Perhaps it's not surprising then that Forever sucks.

Batman (Val Kilmer) squares off with Harvey "Two-Face" Dent (Tommy Lee Jones), District Attorney-turned-deformed criminal. At a circus Dent murders the Flying Graysons, a troupe of acrobats whose sole survivor is petulant young Dick (Chris O'Donnell). Bruce Wayne takes Dick under his wing, but the latter soon discovers Wayne's secret and begs to help him fight crime. Disgruntled scientist Edward Nigma (Jim Carrey) becomes The Riddler, joining Dent to drain Gothamites' brains via a special TV device. And Bruce romances Chase Meridian (Nicole Kidman), a sultry psychologist who's really attracted to Batman.

Batman Forever opens with a closeup of Batman's crotch and a quip about fast food. This perfectly sums up Schumacher's mixture of the gauche and commercial. He re-envisions Gotham as a garish casino, all neon lights and Greco-Roman architecture, with action scenes dominated by obvious computer graphics. Everything from the Batmobile to the villains is re-imagined for Happy Meals, complete with nipple-bedecked Batman for prepubescent S&M fans. Riddler and Two-Face's dopey preening amps the camp to 11. The serious moments (the death of Robin's parents, Bruce's flashbacks) are jarring amidst slapstick fights and dizzying kitsch.

Val Kilmer is thoroughly dull, presenting Batman as wax dummy. Jim Carrey gets by playing his usual frantic self, but Tommy Lee Jones's hambone antics are embarrassing. Chris O'Donnell narrowly avoids punchability... this time. Nicole Kidman provides kittenish sensuality but little personality. Drew Barrymore and Debi Mazar play Two-Face's gal pals.

Batman & Robin (1997, Joel Schumacher)

Rarely has a movie deserved brickbats more than Batman & Robin. Abandoning all pretenses of quality, Schumacher mixes the goofiness of the '60s TV series with the gaudiness of a toy commercial. The result is painful to watch.

Batman (now George Clooney) and Robin have their hands full. Mr. Freeze (Arnold Schwarzenegger) initiates a crime spree, stealing diamonds in a convoluted plot to research a cure for his wife's terminal illness. Meek scientist Pamela Isley (Uma Thurman) turns into Poison Ivy after a chemical accident (what else?) and determines to destroy humanity for plantkind. The two villains team up to destroy Gotham, while Batman and Robin bicker with each other. Alfred's terminal illness, and the arrival of his niece Barbara (Alicia Silverstone) further complicate things.

You know Batman & Robin's bad when the title characters make no impression. George Clooney seems thoroughly bored, as if waiting for E.R. to come back from hiatus. No longer Batman Forever's clingy acolyte, Chris O'Donnell's Robin is now a bitchy teenager in need of a vicious paddling. Alicia Silverstone isn't convincing as either a computer whiz or a badass biker chick. Michael Gough, terminally ill in a half-baked subplot, upstages them all. Even decked in the finest fetish wear, they're the dullest superheroes ever.

The villains are even worse. Arnold Schwarzenegger's Freeze is a pathetic running gag, his tragic back story snowed over by an avalanche of chilling puns ("Let's kick some ice!"). But he's imposing compared to Uma Thurman, delivering leafy innuendos ("My garden needs tending") in a stomach-turning Mae West impression. Jeep Swenson's Bane is a monosyllabic moron ("Monkey... WORK!") while John Glover devours scenery in a pathetic bit. It's a stretch bringing these diverse baddies together and Schumacher hardly tries.

Batman & Robin is just one wrong-headed, inexplicable blunder after another. Freeze's minions singing along to a Rankin-Bass cartoon is comic relief, but whose idea was Batman's credit card? How will Freeze covering the Earth in ice help Ivy's plants take root? What's with the ill-conceived Blonde Venus homage, with Ivy doing a simian striptease? Why the extended street race with bikers dressed like Kubrick characters? Why decorate Gotham with giant nude statues and Day-Glo graffiti? And Coolio, seriously?

George Clooney moved on to bigger things but his colleagues weren't so lucky. Schumacher found himself toiling in modest indie flicks. Alicia Silverstone and Chris O'Donnell's budding stardom abruptly ended. After this and The Avengers, Uma Thurman vanished until Kill Bill. Jeep Swenson died before the film's release. Meanwhile, writer Akiva Goldsman... won an Oscar for A Beautiful Mind. It's a cold town, indeed.

* * *

On the one hand, the Burton-Schumacher Batman films are inconsistent in quality and tone. From an excellent beginning they fell prey to the Law of Diminishing Returns, especially with Burton and Keaton's departures. And yes, Batman & Robin is exactly as bad as they say. Still, I'd probably rather revisit the first two films than Nolan's uber-serious entries. Whatever their flaws, they achieve a commendable mixture of superhero fun and pulp seriousness.

The Avengers

I was skeptical of The Avengers, which could have gone wrong in a million different ways. But Joss Whedon delivers the goods, resulting in the best blockbuster film in years.

Loki (Tom Hiddleston) arrives on Earth to retrieve the Tesseract, which will give him control of the universe or something. SHIELD Director Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) renews the "Avenger Initiative," assembling the superheroes we've met before: Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.), Bruce Banner/the Hulk (Mark Ruffalo), Steve Rogers/Captain America (Chris Evans), Thor (Chris Hemsworth). Also thrown in are assassins Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) and Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner), who have a shared past. The heroes have a hard time getting along but must come together to defeat Loki and his alien army.

The Avengers risks being top-heavy with so many protagonists crammed into one film. Amazingly, Whedon pulls it off, delivering an immensely enjoyable film. Every Marvel fan has their childhood dream come true, but even comic heathens like myself can appreciate this well-crafted thrill ride.

Whedon's contribution can't be overstated. He builds on the protagonists' previous incarnations while believably developing them. His knack for snappy dialogue provides much-needed humor and pathos. Whedon also scores with small moments: the elderly German defying Loki, Agent Coulson's (Clark Gregg) hero worship of Rogers, Banner's explanation for his self-control, Stark reminding Loki of "one more guy" he pissed off.

Then there's the cool factor of four superheroes in one movie. Whedon balances them perfectly, giving each protagonist ample screen time and great interplay. The foursome don't really like each other and several even come to blows. The best dynamic is between the rakish Stark and straight-arrow Rogers. Just seeing this disparate team come together is enough to sell the film, making the payoff extremely effective. Even with a slew of supporting characters the movie never feels clunky or overstuffed.

Avengers delivers equally on its second promise: lots of action. Whedon's action scenes are large-scale and thrilling, admirably free of handheld camera and lens flares. The two big set pieces - the battle aboard SHIELD's mobile headquarters and an epic rumble in New York - are very long but never grow exhausting like Return of the King. Ubiquitous CGI aside, they set the standard for blockbuster excitement.

Some reviews critique the film's simplicity but so what? Nobody's coming into this for penetrating insight into the human condition. They want to see Hulk and Thor smash things. The "dark superhero" genre has been exhausted anyway, and I far prefer well-made, unpretentious fun to insufferable self-importance (Watchmen I'm looking at you). On the former score, The Avengers is faultless.

Robert Downey Jr., Chris Evans and Chris Hemsworth build on their previous appearances and mesh together perfectly. Mark Ruffalo stands out, his awkward, self-effacing Banner far superior to his Hulk predecessors. Scarlett Johansson gets a well-realized character but Jeremy Renner is underused. Tom Hiddleston's Loki is more overtly malicious than before. Clark Gregg and Samuel L. Jackson relish expanded roles as SHIELD agents and Harry Dean Stanton has a hilarious cameo.

The Avengers is probably the best superhero film ever. I'm willing to forfeit my cinema snob cred by proclaiming: it's fucking awesome.

Catching Up With the Avengers: Iron Man, The Incredible Hulk, Thor

Today Disney and Marvel release The Avengers in America. The movie's already done stellar overseas business and Marvel hopes their superhero nest egg, throwing four comic protagonists into one film, pays off. Of course, those heroes have successful features of their own.

This article looks at Iron Man, The Incredible Hulk (both 2008) and Thor (2011). I've already reviewed Iron Man 2 (2010) and Captain America (2011) elsewhere.

Iron Man (2008, Jon Favreau)

Iron Man was a risky investment. Marvel brought one of their more obscure heroes to the screen, starring has-been Robert Downey Jr. Imagine everyone's surprise when Iron Man turned out to be clever and incredibly fun. It's certainly better than 2008's other big superhero movie.

Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) heads Stark Industries, America's largest weapons manufacturer. Tony indulges in a fantasy lifestyle replete with cars, booze and women, while Obadiah Stane (Jeff Bridges) actually runs the company. But a run-in with Afghan insurgents using his weapons leads Stark to change his worldview. With the help of an Afghan scientist (Shaun Toub) and, later, assistant Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow), Stark manufacturers an iron suit with which to fight evildoers. Soon Stark discovers that Stane is selling arms to the Afghans, and building his own suit for nefarious purposes.

Iron Man is a well-packaged film. Jon Favreau proves a dab hand at action and storytelling, delivering a fast-paced, exciting 126 minutes. The movie works as a self-contained story, admirably breezing through Iron Man's origin, but also sets the stage nicely for future installments: Clark Gregg and Samuel L. Jackson make their first appearances as SHIELD agents, reminding Tony there's "a bigger Universe" out there.

Iron Man is smart and cynical without descending into dreariness or pomposity. Tony Stark is a spoiled, narcissistic sybarite who perverts the square values of a Superman or Captain America. He finds a cause to believe in but retains his personality quirks, a credible characterization. Behind Tony's back, Stane runs a heinous double-deal that would make Basil Zaharoff blush. This chilling picture of corporate perfidy grounds Iron Man (somewhat) in reality. Tony not only kicks ass but demands corporate accountability, a very 21st Century hero.

Robert Downey Jr. revived a long-moribund career with his effortless performance. He's superb, whether smooth-talking contractors, debating his morality or trading barbs with feisty Gwyneth Paltrow. Stark's transformation from stuck-up pretty boy to do-gooder is perfectly conveyed, Downey sacrificing neither humor or depth in the process.

Iron Man isn't perfect. Opening things in contemporary Afghanistan is gutsy, but Favreau cops out by making the main baddie (Faran Tahir) a Genghis Khan wannabe. Bald-pated Jeff Bridges makes an agreeable corporate pirate but doesn't pull off the transition to supervillain. The action scenes are mostly exciting, especially Iron Man's Afghan debut, but the climactic fight is underwhelming. On the other hand, Stark's press conference ends this successful crowd pleaser on a perfect note.

The Incredible Hulk (2008, Louis Leterrier)

Less successful is Marvel's stab at a better-known hero. Ang Lee's dreary Hulk (2003) failed in its ambitions as a cerebral Hulk-smash. Unfortunately, Louis Leterrier's 2008 reboot is even worse. It's a perfunctory film, existing solely to keep the Hulk in the Avenger line up.

Bruce Banner (Edward Norton) hides out in Brazil after his initial transformation into the Hulk. Unfortunately, a screw-up at the bottling plant where he works leads Banner's nemesis General Ross (William Hurt) to him, tasking elite soldier Emil Blonsky (Tim Roth) to bring Banner down. Banner hooks up with old flame Betty Ross (Liv Tyler), the General's daughter, and tries to cure himself. Meanwhile Emil experiments with Hulk juice, transforming into the Abomination, a creature even more monstrous than Hulk.

Noting the criticisms leveled at Lee's Hulk, Leterrier's The Incredible Hulk overcompensates by being as dumb as possible. Lee's movie had too much back story and not enough action, you say? How would you like lame ciphers and two hours of explosions? Between the repetitive action scenes, nonexistent characters and facile dialogue it's a thoroughly generic, artificial Hollywood product. The Hulk-Abomination showdown is a fun set piece, but too little too late.

Edward Norton reportedly demanded script rewrites and control over the film, hardly endearing him to Marvel. He's been replaced by Mark Ruffalo for The Avengers. Norton's blandness is matched by his costars: even good actors like William Hurt (Robin Hood) and Tim Roth (Rob Roy) struggle with cardboard characters. Robert Downey Jr.'s cameo provides a rare glimmer of life in this misbegotten mess.

Thor (2011, Kenneth Branagh)

Thor raised eyebrows with its unique pedigree: what was Shakespeare auteur Kenneth Branagh doing directing a superhero flick? But Branagh proves an inspired choice, ably mixing character drama with pulp heroics. It's the least action-heavy Marvel film, but possibly the best to date.

Prince Thor (Chris Hemsworth) of planet Asgard shatters an intergalactic truce by attacking the rival Frost Giants. Father Odin (Anthony Hopkins) banishes Thor to Earth, where he meets researcher Jane Foster (Natalie Portman) and her partners (Stellan Skarsgard, Kat Dennings). Jane and Co. try and figure out who Thor is, while the omnipresent Agent Coulson attempts to recruit the demigod. It turns out that Thor's banishment is really a plot by his brother Loki (Tom Hiddleston), who has designs on Asgard's throne.

Thor is an interesting blend of Norse myth, comic book lore and Shakespeare. Thor goes from callow youth to mature leader in approved Henry V style, while Loki's scheming recalls Iago and Richard III. Branagh provides the right level of pulpy seriousness: the character dynamics are credible without breaking the fantasy mindset. The movie goes for humor in the Earth scenes, with Thor getting some fun gags (especially his visit to a pet shop) while maturing as a character. The "warriors three" sidekicks and mysterious sentry Heimdall (Idris Elba) complement Thor nicely. Only the humans fall flat.

Chris Hemsworth makes an agreeable Thor. Besides his chiseled physique, he comes off exceedingly well navigating Thor's character arc. Tom Hiddleston (War Horse) gives a wonderful villain turn, apparently channeling Peter O'Toole. Idris Elba has some brief but effective scenes. Anthony Hopkins hams it up, while Natalie Portman's lame character gets overshadowed by goofy Stellan Skarsgard (The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo) and cute Kat Dennings. Jeremy Renner (The Hurt Locker) cameos, presaging a more prominent role in The Avengers.

Action fans may find Thor disappointing. Branagh realizes Asgard with some wonderful computer designs, and early scenes feature exciting battles with the Frost Giants. But the big Earth-bound set-piece (a robot rampage) is flaccid, and Thor's duel with Loki isn't compelling as it should be. Still, this reviewer finds a character-driven superhero flick sans ponderous angst refreshing.

* * *

Marvel's Avengers films have, to date, been a mixed bag. Still, they can be very proud of making three entertaining movies, superhero flicks that prove fun and intelligence needn't be contradictory. Here's hoping that The Avengers is more Iron Man than Incredible Hulk.

The Adventures of Tintin

Again I claim ignorance of a very popular literary property: Belgian artist Herge's Tintin comics have found loving audiences for over 80 years, yet I only know them by reputation. Please take this into account for my review of The Adventures of Tintin. In his animated feature debut, Steven Spielberg presents an entertaining, if disposable, motion capture adaptation.

Intrepid reporter Tintin (voice of Jamie Bell) and his fox terrier Snowy buy a model of the sailing ship Unicorn at a market, little realizing this will launch them on an epic caper. Sinister Ivan Sakhrain (Daniel Craig) demands the model, which Tintin soon discovers contains a clue to a hidden treasure. Tintin and Snowy are kidnapped by Sakhrain, and team up with the drunken Captain Haddock (Andy Serkis), whose whiskey-soaked memory holds the key to the Unicorn mystery. Their adventure takes them across the sea to Morocco, where another model of the Unicorn lay in wait.

Tintin starts a bit awkwardly, launching its story with perhaps undue haste. But it quickly gains its own momentum, engrossing its audience in a unique universe. Several reviewers have compared Tintin to Raiders of the Lost Ark, and the go-for-broke action scenes certainly rival Indy's exploits. The frenetic chase through a Moroccan bazaar, ludicrously building in true Spielberg fashion, is the best action scene I've seen in quite some time, though the lengthy pirate flashback is probably the film's highlight. The characters remain ciphers and the plot is super-thin, but these are technicalities in a story like this.

The decision to use motion capture irked many Tintin fans, who feel it doesn't (or couldn't) capture Herge's distinct visual style. This uninitiated reviewer thought it worked just fine: the characters look almost real, but are still able to engage in cartoon antics without live action constraints. Spielberg keeps the comic book origins intact with its oddball characters, vivid rendering of exotic locales, and even "deep focus" shots with action-heavy backgrounds. Viewers looking for escapsim won't have any qualms.

Jamie Bell is a very likeable Tintin, but Andy Serkis's drunken, lovably boisterous Captain Haddock is the real show-stealer. Well-known voices like Daniel Craig, Simon Pegg, Nick Frost, Toby Jones and Cary Elwes populate supporting roles.

I can't rate The Adventures of Tintin as an adaptiation of Herge, but I will recommend it as breezy escapism. No masterpiece, its modest charms make for enjoyable viewing.

Captain America: The First Avenger

Superhero movies have been done to death. World War II movies have been done to death. So why did I expect Captain America: The First Avenger (2011), a World War II superhero movie, to be any good?



Shrimpy, asthmatic Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) is repeatedly turned down by Army recruiters during World War II. Dr. Erskine (Stanley Tucci) learns of Rogers's predicament and recruits him into a secret project involving a super-soldier serum. The serum works, and Rogers becomes Captain America. Rogers is at first used to sell war bonds, but with the help of British Major Peggy Carter (Hayley Atwell) and Colonel Phillips (Tommy Lee Jones), he finds himself on the war's front lines. With a hand-picked team of sidekicks, he squares off against HYRDA, a top-secret Nazi research organization led by Johann Schmidt/Red Skull (Hugo Weaving), whose plans exceed even Hitler's wildest dreams.



Captain America brings absolutely nothing new to the table. It rattles off the expected superhero cliches in rote fashion: origin story, plucky love interest, colorful sidekicks, megalomaniacal villains and tragic deaths to provide extra motivations. The WWII setting feels tacky and artificial when mixed with ridiculous sci-fi technology, and the film's Nazis aren't even real Nazis. Just about the only creative element is the Captain's use a propaganda tool, and this clever meta angle is dropped in favor of exposition and laser shootouts as soon as possible.



Cliches aside, the film just isn't very good. The plot doesn't lack for potential but the screenplay spends way too much time on back story and build-up. The cast is generally ill-served: the Captain's commando sidekicks are so insignificant they don't even warrant onscreen names. The script is terrible, with blatantly anachronistic dialogue and puerile humor that never ceases to irritate. There are lots of character cameos and nods to other Avengers films like Iron Man that might excite the geeks but add nothing to the film. And don't get me started on the ending.



Director Joe Johnston provides his usual hackwork. The action scenes - a running shootout/foot chase through Brooklyn, the Captain's one-man rescue mission - are competently but unimpressively staged. There's a lot of meticulous period detail but the heavy use of CGI and green screen effects creates an airbrushed, sterilized and boring depiction of the '40s worthy of a Medal of Honor game.



Chris Evans is a poor choice for the Captain. He's likeable enough, but he lacks the raw charisma and forceful presence necessary for the part to work. Evans at least isn't completely ridiculous running around in star-spangled tights, but he's too busy being a swell guy to inspire the appropriate awe and admiration.



Hayley Atwell (very fetching) plays a stereotype passably well but Sebastian Stan is a boring sidekick. Hugo Weaving (Lord of the Rings) and Tommy Lee Jones steal the show playing parts they could assay in their sleep. Weaving makes a fun villain with a dead-on Werner Herzog impression, and Jones's crabby old geiser schtick never gets old. Toby Jones (Frost/Nixon) contributes some humor as Weaving's less-than-devoted sidekick.



Captain America is a bland, cliched, all-around forgettable superhero romp. Maybe if you're queing up for The Avengers next year, it's a must-see. But I say, in a summer which has already seen Thor, X-Men: First Class and The Green Lantern come and go, what's the point?

Kick-Ass

Superhero movies have become so ubiquitous that "deconstructions" of them are now a genre of their own. Perhaps we can blame The Dark Knight, but now even the most ridiculous superheros have to be grounded in faux-reality. Last month I saw Watchmen (2009), a pompous piece of dross laughable in its self-importance. How seriously can you take a movie with a giant blue nudist and Pusher from The X-Files playing Richard Nixon?

I wasn't expecting much from Kick-Ass (2010), but this adaptation of Mark Millar-John Romita's cult comic book is actually excellent. Some elements don't work, but it's definitely the most entertaining and clever superhero film of the past decade.

Dave Lizewski (Aaron Johnson) is a New York City nerd who dreams of being a superhero. After getting mugged once too often, Dave sports a scuba suit and billy clubs, and becomes Kick-Ass. His efforts are initially ineffectual but make him a local hero, cleaning up petty crime and flirting with popular girl Katie (Lyndsy Fonseca). He also discovers a father-daughter pair of real superheros, Big Daddy (Nicolas Cage) and Hit Girl (Chloe Moretz), who fight crime with a bottomless arsenal of guns, knives and high-tech weaponry. Unfortunately, Kick-Ass runs afoul of crime boss Frank D'Amico (Mark Strong), whose son (Christopher Mintz-Plasse) poses as superhero Red Mist to trick Kick-Ass into revealing his identity.

Kick-Ass admirably grounds its heroics in a real-world setting, allowing the film to be both believable and funny. Dave is one of the more realistic movie teens and his bumbling efforts at crime-fighting only make him more endearing. The film is often hysterical, especially when Kick-Ass "romantically" sneaks into his girlfriend's bedroom (take that, Edward Cullen!), and does fun things with genre cliches and conventions. On one level, it's certainly a nerd fantasy, with Dave gaining confidence and bedding a popular girl, but he also gets the shit kicked out of him repeatedly and needs the "real" heroes to save him. Certainly his makes a better "origin story" than a superpower-enhanced goon.

Unfortunately, Big Daddy and Hit Girl don't quite mesh with everything else. Several critics, most famously Roger Ebert, raised "moral" objections to an eleven year-old girl killing people and cussing like R. Lee Ermey, but she's really the logical extension of the smartass kid found in every contemporary movie. Mostly I found them less interesting than Kick-Ass himself. They provide commentary on the nasty ramifications of superhero-dom and inurring children to violence but jar with the otherwise grounded tone. When Hit-Girl starts gunning down dozens of bad guys John Woo-style, I lose interest. And don't get me started on the jetpack...

Writer-director Vaughn does a good job with this material. The film sparkles with well-written dialogue and funny characterizations, yet the film seems outlandish only in parts. The film is directorally competent, with some creative sequences (a comic book backstory for Big Daddy and Hit Girl) and a few that don't quite work (the shootout in the dark). Bits of the film play like low-rent Tarantino, especially the iPod shuffling music during the finale, but for the most part it retains a charming and clever tone.

Aaron Johnson is effective both as a likeable nerd and budding vigilante, infusing his character with palpable outrage and self-effacing humor. This blogger generally hates Nicolas Cage, but finds him more palatable than usual here. Chloe Moretz is a charming screen presence, and with roles in (500) Days of Summer and Let Me In she's on her way to stardom. Christopher Mintz-Plasse (Superbad) does well with an underwritten part. Mark Strong (Sherlock Holmes) adds a chatty New York gangster to his rogue's gallery resume. Elizabeth McGovern (Once Upon a Time in America) has an odd cameo.

Kick-Ass has some rough patches, but for now I'd definitely name it as my favorite superhero film. If you're going to "deconstruct" the superhero genre, for God's sake do it with cleverness and wit. Don't go meditate on Mars.

A History of Violence

Tonight was my second viewing of A History of Violence (2005), and I have extremely mixed feelings. As a thriller it's two-thirds a great movie, sabotaged by a lame ending. As a mediation on violence, it's pretentious and flat. I leave it up to the viewer on which level they want to take it.

Tom Stall (Viggo Mortensen) is a mild-mannered diner owner in rural Indiana. His life gets turned upside down when two serial killers (Stephen McHattie and Greg Bryk) try to hold up his diner. Tom kills both men, making him a hero but leaving his wife Edie (Maria Bello) and family shocked by his actions. Even bigger surprises are in store when disfigured gangster Carl Fogarty (Ed Harris) rolls into town, claiming Tom is actually Joey Cusack, a member of the Philadelphia mob. Might it be true? You tell me.

A History of Violence's plot comes from a million other films, from Act of Violence and Straw Dogs to various Hitchcock films and countless Westerns. But David Cronenberg is not content with being a well-done "mistaken identity" film, oh no, it has to be a grand statement on the propensity of humans towards violence etc. The result is a film as schizophrenic and troubled as its protagonist, ostensibly examining the effects and appeal of violence while unwittingly celebrating it.

As a thriller, the movie is mostly good, though the plot strains credulity. The story and characters are, initially grounded firmly in reality: the violence is gruesome, the set-pieces tense and the protagonists sharply-drawn. Early scenes with the Stalls show them as a believable family unit, and the first appearances of Fogarty's crew are genuinely unnerving. When Tom's identity comes into question, there's some great family drama: if Tom's been lying about his identity for twenty years, where does that leave his wife and kids? The stairway sex scene is just this side of bad taste, but proves more explosive and raw than all the shootouts.

But Cronenberg really drops the ball in the last half-hour. Tom's showdown with mob boss Richie (William Hurt) is just bad: poorly-acted, cartoonishly-written, and culminating in an unlikely killing spree worthy of Grand Theft Auto, it's impossible to take this sequence seriously. When everything else is so measured and down-to-earth, what are we supposed to make out of this cartoon crap?

This scene points up the main problem, that A History of Violence isn't worth much as an "intellectual" work. Filmmakers from Hitchcock to Lynch have picked the bones of small-town America clean, so it's doubtful too many viewers will be shocked by the story's twists. Cronenberg makes the violence very grisly, but it's still enjoyable when psychos and gangsters are the victims. The parallel plot with son Jack (Ashton Holmes) and a school bully is lame, climaxing in a beating scene straight out of A Christmas Story. The off-screen musings by Cronenberg and certain critics about the story as "Darwinism at its purest" are so much hot air: any deep message Cronenberg wants to express is negated by his own work. Instead of subverting cliche, Violence unwittingly embraces it.

Viggo Mortensen (Lord of the Rings) tackles a difficult role with aplomb. At first, he's so milquetoast it's impossible to believe he's Joey, but when pressed he becomes a completely different person. Maria Bello is equally solid, shocked by yet perversely attracted to her husband's "new" identity. Ed Harris adds another menacing psychopath to his resume, and Stephen McHattie (Geronimo: An American Legend) and Greg Bryk make a disturbing impression. William Hurt inexplicably received an Oscar nomination for his five minutes of cartoon ham.

A History of Violence has its virtues, but it's too flawed to be a great film and too shallow to take seriously. Then again, I thought Cronenberg's Crash was a grotesque fetish video posing as profundity, so what the hell do I know?

Persepolis

Having recently fallen in love with Marjane Satrapi's Persepolis books, it was only natural that I should check out the Oscar-nominated film adaptation. Fortunately, Persepolis (2007) keeps Satrapi's work intact: her autobiographical tale of a child's life in Revolutionary Iran, and adolescence abroad, rings true through a perfect mixture of humor, pathos and personal tragedy.

Iran, 1979. Marjane "Marji" Satrapi (Gabrielle Lopes, Chiara Mastroianni) is a precocious child wrapped up in fantasy and materialism. Her parents (Catherine Denevue and Simon Abkarian) protest the Shah's regime, which collapses after the Shah flees. However, Marjane and her family find the Ayatollah Khomeini's new Islamic regime even worse, with alcohol outlawed, women forced to don veils, and a destructive war with Iraq making life unbearable. Teenaged Marjane is sent to live in Vienna, where she flits around the edges of counter-culture, struggles with romance and education, is stereotyped as a terrorist, and ends up homeless and destitute. She comes home to Iran, only to find herself a stranger even in her home country.

Persepolis is an excellent mixture of honesty and humanism, conveyed through its beautifully-realized protagonist. Satrapi is wonderfully forthcoming about herself: she presents episodes where, as a child, she leads an attack on the son of a policeman. Later, she condemns an innocent man to prison so she won't miss a date. Often narcissistic and self-destructive, Marji is no intellectual rebel or quirky heroine with all the answers, just an ordinary adolescent into music, boys and blue jeans, her faults and confusion magnified by the situation. Even transforming herself into a "modern woman" is a limited success: Iran remains repressive, and Marji is stuck in a rotten marriage which enhances her predicament.

We know, of course, that Satrapi went on to be a successful cartoonist and author, but Marji at age 18, penniless in the Vienna streets, would have no way of knowing it. Despite the depressing nature of the material, and its sad conclusion, Persepolis pulsates with joy and life-affirming happiness, with Satrapi's caustic wit and shrewd observations providing plenty of humor. The story's real-life conclusion provides an extra-textual delight.

The movie skims over the story's historical and political background, but this is forgivable. Background about Iran's history and the Shah's rise are presented in amusing vignettes, exactly how a child would digest a difficult history lesson. As in so many revolutions, the ideal revolution is subverted with something far worse: while the Shah arrests and tortures dissidents, the Ayatollah executes them. And for Iranians (and women especially), life becomes unbearable. Satrapi, who lost friends and relatives to both regimes, cannot be called objective, but Persepolis has the ring of truth throughout. Specific incidents and anecdotes are presented with vivid clarity: being harrassed by cops for "indecency," the underground parties and blackmarket music tapes, the disfigurement and death of friends in the war.

Satrapi and Vincent Paronnaud keep the comic's visual style intact: the simple, stark black-and-white visual style perfectly enhances the feeling of loss and nostalgia. Despite the story's episodic nature, it has a fast and urgent pace, flowing perfectly. The animation enhances the material with creative uses of montage, perfectly portraying the difficult backstory, and specific sequences - particularly Marji's descent into depression - are made extremely powerful. The voice work is uniformly excellent.

Some minor omissions aside, Persepolis is a fabulous, near-perfect adaptation of the graphic novel, and one of its decade's best animated films.

PS: Happy Father's Day!

Iron Man 2

I wasn't a big fan of the original Iron Man (2008), which was a Robert Downey Jr. away from being a routine effects-laden blockbuster. Its sequel, however, improves upon it in every conceivable way, creating a fun, exciting and entertaining adventure.

A year after the events of the original, Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) has more or less created world peace with his Iron Man suit. But enemies external and internal threaten: the US military wants his technology, rival arms dealer Justin Hammer (Sam Rockwell) schemes to dethrone him, and Stark's his health deteriorates through repeated use of his suit. And lurking in the shadows is Ivan Vanko (Mickey Rourke), son of a Russian physicist from whom, Ivan believes, Tony stole his Iron Man plans. Tony must call on his assistant Pepper Potts (Gwenyth Paltrow), buddy Colonel Rhodes (Don Cheadle), and agents of the S.H.I.E.L.D. organization (Samuel L. Jackson, Scarlett Johansson, Clark Gregg) to thwart Vanko and Hammer.

Iron Man 2 is enjoyable primarily because it's so fun. When the modus operandi of superhero flicks is to be dark and (*cough*) realistic, it's refreshing director Jon Favreau opting for a more traditional take on the genre. It's the hero that's unconventional, not the method of storytelling. Forget the hamfisted preaching and moral quandries of The Dark Knight and Watchmen: Iron Man 2 knows that people want superheros to kick some ass and save the day. It doesn't hurt that the film clocks in at a lean, fast-paced 125 minutes, not overstaying its welcome for a moment.

Iron Man 2 deftly balances plot, character and action. Justin Theroux's script is superb, with not an element out of place. Tony's dissolving health and personality are well-portrayed, becoming a flawed character of believable depth. Most of the supporting cast have to make due with impressions: Vanko and Hammer come off the best, along with Natalee (Johansson), convincing. The movie is, of course, bristling with effects-laden action scenes, but they're miles better than anything in Transformers or like films. CGI comes with the territory these days, and one can only hope it's done well, as it certainly is here.

Robert Downey Jr. was the original's saving grace, and he's even better here. Stark's character is significantly expanded, and Downey does a good job wrestling with the character's inner turmoil while maintaining his outward humor and eccentricity. The gorgeous Scarlett Johansson makes the most of her mystery woman character. Mickey Rourke (The Wrestler) and Sam Rockwell (Frost/Nixon) make a great pair of villains. Samuel L. Jackson (Pulp Fiction) and Garry Shandling have fun cameos. Don Cheadle (Traffic) does what he can in a thankless role (inherited from Terrence Howard) but Gwenyth Paltrow has even less to do than bfore.

Iron Man 2 is probably as good as a summer blockbuster can get. It's well-crafted, fast-paced, exciting, and, most of all, fun. And that's really all you can ask from this kind of movie.

Sin City

Robert Rodriguez and Frank Miller (with the help of "guest director" Quentin Tarantino) bring Miller's gothic neo-noir graphic novel to the big screen, with generally positive results. The movie is a stylish mixed bag; it has its share of false moments and ridiculous bits, but as a piece of bravura pulp fiction, it's generally entertaining.

Set in the garish, hideously corrupt Basin City, the film's episodic plot follows the stories of a gaggle of malcontents, crooks and would-be moral men. Our primary protagonists: Hartigan (Bruce Willis), a good cop who goes to jail for killing the pedophile son (Nick Stahl) of the powerful Senator Roarke (Powers Boothe), to protect little girl (and later stripper) Nancy (Jessica Alba) from Roarke's vengeance; (Mickey Rourke), a seemingly indestructible thug bent on avenging the murder of a hooker (James King); and Dwight (Clive Owen), a seedy gunslinger who helps Gail (Rosario Dawson) and her tough gal hookers fight a crooked cop (Benicio Del Toro) and a ruthless crime boss (Michael Clarke Duncan). Also involved are a super-human cannibal (Elijah Wood), a crooked priest (Rutger Hauer), a seedy waitress (Brittany Murphy) and a seductive serial killer (Josh Hartnett).

Sin City is pretty much a triumph of style over substance. The movie's pseudo-hardboiled dialogue is often cringeworthy, and many of the visual choices are a bit outlandish (particularly Nick Stahl's reincarnation with a big orange head). The multi-faceted, episodic story is a bit rough in construction; had Tarantino been at the helm (instead of the "guest director") he probably would have done a better job at connecting the story and constructing the plot. The characters are pretty broad, and while some are well-developed, others remained cartoons. Overall though, there's not a whole lot to complain about; with a little polish, it might have been a truly great film, but we'll settle for what he have.

Certainly the film's style is mostly a success; filmed in filtered, computer-aided black-and-white, it perfectly captures the grim, desperate feel of Miller's graphic novel, creating a wonderfully dark, hopeless and absorbing atmosphere. The driving musical score by Rodriguez, John Debney and Graeme Revell helps a great deal too. The film's portrayal of moral men trying to make their way in this completely amoral world is quite interesting; in a town like Basin City, there's no choice but to be some level of crook. Most of the characters are fairly one-dimensional, but Rodriguez and Miller make many of their dimensions interesting.

The all-star cast is mostly good. Bruce Willis conveys Hartigan's tortured mixture of morality and cynicism wonderfully. Jessica Alba, however, is one-note and wooden as Nancy, a poorly-conceived character who comes off as a drooling male fantasy. Mickey Rourke makes Marv both hilarious and pathetic; what could have been a mean thug character becomes extremely sympathetic. Clive Owen is fine if a bit colorless as Dwight, though the more showy characters in that sequence inevitably steal his thunder, particularly the gorgeous and feisty Rosario Dawson, the tart Brittany Murphy and a grimly humorous Benicio Del Toro. The supporting cast is full bursting with talent: Michael Madsen (Reservoir Dogs), Michael Clarke Duncan (The Green Mile), Alexis Bledel (Tuck Everlasting), Carla Gugino (American Gangster), Elijah Wood (Lord of the Rings), Josh Hartnett (O), James King (Pearl Harbor), Rutger Hauer (Batman Begins) and Powers Boothe (Tombstone) are all fine.

Despite its flaws, Sin City is still a generally well-made film and certainly worth a look. It's not the greatest film you'll ever see, but it's an interesting way to spend two hours.

Conan the Barbarian

I finally got around to watching Conan the Barbarian (1982), another John Milius epic, but one of distinctly lesser quality than the previous Milius efforts reviewed for this blog. The movie has a certain amount of undeniable camp appeal, especially for fans of Arnold Schwarzenegger, but it's not really a good movie, however many incredulous guffaws it garners.

Loosely based on the Robert E. Howard comic strip, the film tells the story of Conan (Arnold Schwarzenegger at his buffest), who witnesses his parents being killed by Thulsa Doom (James Earl Jones), the fierce leader of a murderous snake cult somewhere in Asia. After growing up as a slave, Conan continues to entertain thoughts of revenge, and strikes out on a quest for righteous vengeance. Together with a Mongol warrior (Gerry Lopez), a cowardly wizard (Mako) and a beautiful Amazon warrior (Sandahl Bergman), Conan seeks to defeat Doom, avenge his father, and establish himself as ruler.

John Milius's work as a director has tended to awkwardly balance the sublime and the ridiculous, the goofy and the thoughtful, with mixed results. The Wind and the Lion, despite its flaws, is undoubtedly Milius's best work, and a truly great adventure film; Dillinger, Red Dawn and Rough Riders are all good enough films that flirt with greatness but don't quite achieve it. Here, Milius and screenwriter Oliver Stone opt for all out goofiness (with a brief but childish grasp at Nietzschean ideas), and the result is a sight to behold. Unfortunately, it's not a particularly good sight, all things considered.

The film's flaws are myriad. The movie's story, for a start, is all over the place, with all sorts of bizarre digressions that make the plot impossible to follow. The characters are broadly drawn and ridiculous, which isn't a huge flaw given the source material and subject matter. The tone is largely uneven, yet its serious moments are undermined by the overwhelming, pervasive cheesiness throughout (how seriously can you take a film about men transforming into giant snakes and Arnold punching camels in the face?). The dialogue is off-the-wall bad, making the Billy Jack movies look like screenwriting idols. The film's goofy nature is almost certainly intentional, but it doesn't make it any easier to swallow. If it's intentionally campy, it's still not overly entertaining. Some may find the camp goofiness more palatable, but for me it wasn't the type of camp I could really enjoy.

Milius's direction is pretty rote: he again shows a flare for action scenes and does a decent job with his cast, but the film lacks the visual interest of his better films and seems pretty paint-by-numbers in a technical manner. The movie does have some interesting movie buff moments; the story seems a curious blend of The Searchers and Milius's own Apocalypse Now script, and the film uses many familiar Almerian locations from various Spaghetti Westerns and The Wind and the Lion, but really these are of but passing interest.

Arnold Schwarzenegger achieved instant mega-stardom in his role, and while it's not his worst performance, he manages to be absolutely ridiculous. His hulking muscles don't hide a dearth of acting talent, and Arnold's facial expressions and thick-as-pancake-batter accent provide some moments of ridiculous camp humor. To Milius's credit, though, Ahnuld is supported by a coterie of very talented supporting actors: James Earl Jones gives a strong performance as Thulsa Doom, much better than the silly material deserves, and veteran character actors Max Von Sydow (The Exorcist), Mako (The Sand Pebbles) and William Smith (Red Dawn) turn in fine performances as well.

Conan the Barbarian is an utterly silly romp, and not in the good sense. It's entertaining in its own way, I suppose, and more generous reviewers may be inclined to rate it higher; it's not exactly trying to be Citizen Kane, after all. But for me, it's not worth much as a film or as entertainment, and I can't give it really high marks, merely a quizzical headshake and a befuddled utterance of "Dude..."

Howard the Duck

On Thursday my family watched that towering cinematic masterpiece, the George Lucas-produced Howard the Duck (1986). Why has it taken me three days to get around to reviewing it (besides my general laziness)? I'm glad you asked...



Any more questions?

I've reviewed many terrible movies for this blog before, and after sitting through the Billy Jack films and Batman and Robin you would think there's nowhere for me to go but up. However, the Universe always finds a way to prove me wrong, and it seems every month or so I'm able to find a new standard of bad by which to judge movies.

Howard (voice of Chip Zien, played by innumerable little people) is a duck living on a duck planet where ducks are like people (get it?). Then he's blasted across time and space to a truly hellish new world - Cleveland, Ohio. He meets up with scatter-brained, friz-haired rocker Beverly (Lea Thompson), who seems to fall for Howard (no kidding unfortunately) and is determined to send him back to his home planet, enlisting her impossibly geeky, chillingly Eddie Deezen-esque lab assistant friend (Tim Robbins) to "help". Things grow more complicated when scientist Dr. Jenning (Jeffrey Jones) becomes possessed by an alien calling itself the Dark Overlord, who has plans to take over the world (MWAHAHAHAHA!). Ultimately, Howard is forced to decide whether he should go back to his home planet or save the Earth - and the audience is left with an even bigger question: Why should we care?

There's always something particularly obnoxious about utterly awful, big-budget stink bombs. Low-budget flicks like Ed Wood films or direct-to-video slasher sequels can be excused to an extent by their format and budget. It's certainly fun to pick on something like Bride of the Monster, but in a sense it's like kicking a crippled kid who's fallen out of a wheelchair. Stuff like Howard and the aforementioned Batman flick is a whole other level of bad. There's no excuse of a miniscule budget or lack of access to good actors and crew or even lack of ideas; the fact that it's failure wrought on a huge scale makes it even more obnoxious, and the idea that a major studio and hugely successful producer thought this material was filmable in the first place. The only response is a big, incredulous, Troy Steele-inspired What.

It's not a question of talent either. I'm not the biggest Star Wars or Indiana Jones fan in the world, but George Lucas showed in those films he knows (or knew) how to make entertaining movies. The film was written by Gloria Katz and directed by William Huyck, who worked on Lucas's pretty good American Graffiti. So what the hell convinced George Lucas that making a movie about a wiseass talking alien duck was a good idea? Did he happen to read the comic book while high and thought it would be a bitching film? Or was he just walking through the park one day, saw a duck, and got an idea for a film? (This would also explain how Willow came to be - he was walking through Hollywood and ran into Warwick Davis.) Either way, this movie is, if nothing, ample evidence that there is a danger inherent in a studio giving a successful director or producer carte blanche. Because that day they have an inexplicable brain fart or do drugs can end up sinking $100 million of your studio's money into a ridiculous project doomed to failure.

It's really hard to see how this film is meant to appeal to anyone. Howard is an obnoxious, anthropomorphic duck who spouts off lame puns ("No more Mr. Nice Duck!") that not even a four year old would find amusing, along with a lot of painfully obvious fish (duck?) out of water humor that was old in the Three Stooges' era. His frequent swearing and sexual innuendos would (theoretically at least) rule out a younger audience, but it's doubtful that a mean, cranky midget in a duck costume would appeal to any adults either. The action scenes are just plain pathetic, lacking in inventiveness, tension, suspense or quality. The movie really stops cold, however, when Beverly mock-seduces Howard. It's surely one of the most repulsive, disgusting scenes in film history; the fact that it's meant as humorous only makes it that much more obnoxious and disgusting. Any chance of audience enjoyment goes out the door with that scene - though the film nearly tops it with a climactic rock number almost as bad as the end of Leprechaun in the Hood.

I don't see much point in analyzing the film's technical aspects. The direction is perfectly adequate given the atrocious material. The special effects (particularly the stop-motion on the Dark Overlord) are done reasonably well, but as the saying goes, one is upset to find it done at all. Lea Thompson seems completely unable to account for her presence in the film, Jeffrey Jones (Amadeus) chews scenery with reckless abandon, and Tim Robbins gives a singularly annoying performance, almost on the level of the theater douchebag in Silent Night Deadly Night 2.

In the end, Howard the Duck is just a huge question mark of a movie. There's no reason at all for it to exist, least of all as a mega-budget would-be blockbuster. I can't even think of much fun to poke at it; it's just bad. Stay away, or if you must watch it, let the film speak for itself.

Rating: Goose egg out of 10

Batman Begins

Christopher Nolan's Batman Begins (2005) has been credited, along with its ultra-successful sequel, last year's The Dark Knight, with breathing new life into the played-out and tiresome superhero genre - a genre that has been stretched to the breaking point with film after mediocre film in recent years (two Incredible Hulks, Fantastic 4, Spider-Man, etc.). Personally, I'm not sure that I buy this line of reasoning. To me, despite its pretensions to seriousness, Batman Begins is yet another generic superhero film with the same mixture of overwrought self-importance and unconscious cheesiness that has characterized the genre over the past decade. I'm not the biggest fan of The Dark Knight, or the same year's Iron Man for that matter, but those films are a genuine breath of fresh air compared to this one.

Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) watches his super-rich parents gunned down by a petty criminal in the streets of Gotham, and grows up wanting revenge. His revenge is denied by agents of Gotham crime boss Carmine Falconi (Tom Wilkinson), whose syndicate controls Gotham with bribes, drugs and guns. Wayne goes on the lam as a criminal and ends up in the monestary of the shadowy Raas a'Ghul (Ken Wantanabe) and his mentor Henri Ducard (who else but Liam Neeson?), who run the League of Shadows, a secret society of vigilantes dedicated to wiping out crime and decadence in the world. Bruce finds out that the League is planning an outright destruction of Gotham, and races back to his home city. With the help of his butler Alfred (Michael Caine) and loyal corporate associate Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman), Wayne transforms himself to the vigilante Batman, taking on Falconi and Dr. Jonathan Crane (Cillian Murphy), who as "the Scarecrow" is working with Raas al'Ghul to destroy Gotham with a hallucinogenic drug that will cause Gothamites to go mad with fear and destroy each other. Also playing a part are Rachel Dawes (Katie Holmes), Bruce's childhood sweetheart-turned-Assistant D.A. (and later turned-Maggie Gyllenhaal), and Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman), one of the few honest cops left in Gotham, who becomes Batman's primary ally.

Claims of critics and fanboys to the contrary, Batman Begins really isn't THAT much different than most superhero films. Despite Nolan's pretensions of creating a darker and more realistic world for the bat to play in, the movie is just as goofy. Semi-realistic villains like Falconi and Crane are left hanging for yet another all-seeing, all-power evil secret society (because who could get enough of them?), whose plot for world domination (or at least Gotham's destruction) seems like the scheme of a particularly lame Bond villain. Characters are only sketchily introduced, and the film has the typical throat-clearing backstory that is both rushed and poorly done. The script is full of clunkily-written pseudo-profundities (along with some just plain cheesy dialogue) that inevitably ring false, when they aren't outright laughable (Falconi's "Don't burden yourself with the secrets of scary people" line may be the worst non-Garbage Day! dialogue in any film); they smack of self-important posturing that can be found in pretty much any film of this genre. All in all, Batman Begins has little to offer that can't be found in pretty much any other superhero film; it's musings on morality and fear are remarkably simplistic and beaten into the audience so often that even the densest three year old would get it.

Technically, the film is pretty good. Nolan's direction is generally solid; he shows a knack for visual style, and handles the film's action scenes reasonably well (though the film lacks a stand-up-and-cheer set-piece like, say, the convoy ambush in The Dark Knight). The movie looks good, for what its worth; it's mostly the script and story that lets the proceedings down. The score by Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard is repetitive and bland assembly-line junk, with lots of insistent strings and trilling brass that could be culled from any number of action flicks you could care to name.

The cast is a big disappointment; a lot of talent is assembled and mostly wasted. Christian Bale's Bruce Wayne is bland, stiff and boring (let's not even mention the ludicrous Batman voice); I'm becoming more convinced with each film of his I watch that his great performance in Empire of the Sun was a fluke, as he's scarcely given a worthwhile performance since reaching puberty. Katie Holmes is mostly annoying and makes one pine for Maggie Gyllenhaal. Tom Wilkinson, Ken Wantanabe and Cillian Murphy are given thankless roles as secondary bad guys who are poorly introduced and have little to do. Gary Oldman does what he can, but in this installment Gordon is mostly a humorous role. Michael Caine provides wheezy comic relief, and Morgan Freeman's role is virtually superfluous (say what you will about the Burton-Schumaker Batmans, they at least economized their characters). It's Liam Neeson who gives the best performance; he's played the mentor guy in pretty much every film of the last ten years, from The Phantom Menace to Kingdom of Heaven to The Chronicles of Narnia, but he's good at it by now - though he doesn't quite make the transition to evil that the script requires of him. The Dark Knight would do a much better job with its ensemble cast; Oldman, Aaron Eckhardt, and yes, Heath Ledger would all give fine performances far beyond any of the acting on display here.

On the whole, Batman Begins was rather disappointing and has little to offer that the Spider-Man and Fantastic 4 films didn't already bring to the table. Fortunately, Nolan and Company would get a lot more right the second time around, creating a solid, well-written and -acted superhero film distinctly different from the cookie-cutter superhero formula.

Rating: 5/10 - Mediocre

Let's Kick Some ICE!

God help me.

Today I watched Joel Schumaker's Batman & Robin (1997). It had been quite awhile since I'd deliberately watched a notoriously awful movie without the help of MST3K. I knew from various YouTube videos and word of mouth that I was in for one hell of a ride, but nothing could prepare me for the dumbfounding sight that I witnessed today. While the Billy Jack and Leprechaun movies could at least plead "No budget!", this would-be blockbuster has no such excuse. Other than the Devlin-Emmerich Godzilla reboot, this is without a doubt the worst big-budget Hollywood movie I've ever seen.

Do you really need to know the plot? Mr. Freeze (Arnold Schwarzenegger) is a cold-hearted ex-scientist who goes on a crime spree in an attempt to cure his dying wife of a rare disorder. He's helped by Poison Ivy (Uma Thurman), a pheremone-spewing femme fatale created through a lab accident, burning for revenge against humanity in general. These two spew off bad pun after bad pun like a barrel full of MadTV writers. Batman (George Clooney) and Robin (Chris O'Donnell) strap on their nipple-adorned Batsuits and attempt to stop these guys, only to find themselves at odds with each other as much as their superfoes. Oh, and Alfred Pennyworth (Michael Gough in child molestor mode) has a terminal illness, and his niece (Alicia Silverstone) shows up to help our heroes kick some ice (and, er, leaf).

One comes away from Batman & Robin completely and utterly dumbfounded. I've never been a fan of Batman or superheroes in general, so I'm merely judging it based on basic human instincts. That being said, What the fuck is going on here? Did Schumaker and Company seriously think they were making a good film? Certainly some degree of camp is intentional - you don't write a million puns about ice without hoping at least one of them is funny - but how can one take this film even remotely seriously? With a boatful of A-list stars giving earth-shatteringly bad performances, an unbelievably turgid screenplay that's the stuff Internet memes are made of, a plot that goes nowhere in a hurry, laughably drawn characters, horrendously shot action sequences (with amusingly primitive CGI), and the visual sense of a squirrel on angel dust, Batman & Robin is not only mind-bendingly bizarre and inexplicable, but absolutely worthless as entertainment - even the justly-mocked camp elements are treading on thin ice towards the end.

The film is certainly creative visually, full of giant nude statues, Batnipples (and lots of crotch and butt close-ups), lots of icey and plant-adorned sets, and backdrops and settings that seem to be aimed at a deliberately cartoonish atmosphere. The result is surreal, inasmuch as a fever dream is surreal. Ultimately, it's also about as pleasant as a bad bout of the flu, or eating raw meat out of the ice box. If nothing else, this film provides Exhibit A that creative is by no means a synonym for good. One misses the rote, uncreative banality of a Michael Bay extravaganza here; with its multifaceted plot, large cast of characters, and whacky, drug-induced visual sense, Batman & Robin is nothing if not ambitious - but oh how it fails.

The cast seems to be engaging in a contest to see who can give the worst performance - and believe me, the competition is very stiff. George Clooney is stiff, wooden, boring and completely unemotive as the third '90s incarnation of Batman, and Chris O'Donnell is an obnoxious, utterly punchable prick as Robin. Arnold Schwarzenegger stops the competition cold with a frosty performance, spitting off frost-bitten puns every second that brings in gails of laughter. Uma Thurman trades him punch for punch as Poison Ivy, chewing off an endless string of equally atrocious plant puns in the most insufferable Barbara Stanwyck/Katharine Hepburn impersonation ever. I was expecting this from Ahnuld but damn, I was under the impression that Uma could act. Alicia Silverstone is just unspeakably annoying as Batgirl, and John Glover's brief appearance as Thurman's psychotic research partner surely deserves comparison with the theater douchebag from Silent Night Deadly Night 2 as the most obnoxious one-scene character in film history. In a smaller role, Coolio gives a performance every bit impressive as his turn in Leprechaun in the Hood. Only Michael Gough as Alfred and Pat Hingle as Gordon give anything resembling decent performances.

So, yeah, I may not be The Dark Knight's biggest fan, but after this glacial abomination I've no freezing desire to see more. Unless my ice deceive me, this film is as pleasant as an icicle through the eye, and just as painful. At least there are some laughs to be had, but the idea of sitting through this iceberg again is a chilling prospect indeed. It gives me frostbite just thinking about it...

All right, enough of that. All I have to add is: Vat kilt da dinosaurs?*

Rating: Absolute Zero/10 - Dat Means It's Really Cold... Er, Bad

* - DEE ICE AGE!!!