Archive for May, 2011

Season 2, Episode 22: “New York”

Posted in Current TV, Glee on May 28, 2011 by jybh

This is a really hard episode to evaluate: it hits all the emotional beats that it ought to, it features the best versions of all the characters, and it restores the power of a lot of story arcs that seemed irrevocably lost. But it also did a lot of the things that annoy me most about the show, and the more I think about it, the more problematic it is. Ultimately however, it really worked for me, so we’ll start with the good.

Like last season’s finale “Journey” this episode seems to come from a different version of the show, one of which only the Pilot, “Sectionals”, “Journey”, “Duets”, and “Special Education” are a part of (Brad Falchuk wrote all but one of these episodes, by the way) . The characters in all these episodes are consistent, the show’s funny without being over the top wacky, and it’s even filmed in a much more unique style. The characterization and acting have a hint of subtlety that isn’t usually present and the couples we’re supposed to root for actually have chemistry. The show remembers that it’s about unpopular kids living in Ohio that are frustrated by their lives in a small town, and dream of being a part of something much greater than some show choir, rather than a bunch of douchey cheerleaders and football players, who claim to be misfits, but around whom the entire world seems to revolve. It has an air of sadness about it, and suggests that it might not be possible to achieve our dreams, but that that doesn’t mean you should stop dreaming. It really recaptures the essence of the show: it’s clear by now that the show will never become this alternate reality Glee, but it’s nice when it drops in.

However I feel like in this Bizarro-Glee universe, in which the show is more heartfelt and consistent, this would have been an extremely disappointing finale. I picked these episodes, not because they’re my favorite episodes (though the Pilot, “Journey”, and “Duets” make the shortlist), but because they have a consistency between them that other episodes don’t, and the way the characters are written and acted have a similar quality. First we’ll start with the biggest issue of this episode: the songs. First of all, I really dislike the way that Glee’s decided to use original songs. It really shows that the writers have no idea why they were criticized for only using covers, or what the advantage of original songs is. Musicals use their songs to portray what’s going on in the mind of the characters, and usually both develop the characters and further the storyline: Glee was criticized for using unoriginal songs to sum up emotions in really trite and simplistic ways, rather than the deeper ones that songs written specifically for that character or situation can. Often the show’s songs stop the story dead in it’s tracks, rather than adding to it. The best musical episode of TV ever made is Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s “Once More With Feeling”: Joss Whedon wrote both the script and the songs, and all the important plot developments and emotional moments are a part of the songs, while the dialogue is mostly reserved for plot explanation.

Lea Michele looks kind of scary here, like she's going to kill someone

Glee doesn’t use their original songs in this way at all, but rather integrate them into the plot by having the kids write the songs for competitions, which might be the worst possible way to use these. First of all, both the performances in “Original Song” and in this episode have been much weaker than any of the New Directions performances before they began using original songs. The songs themselves are impersonal and pretty generic, often sounding like songs Max Martin intended for Pink, but that got thrown on the backburner. This episode’s “Pretending” is the only song of the four big performance songs with lyrics specific enough to apply to these characters in a deeper way than the covers that they usually perform do. All of the other originals songs have been mere jokes, and while it’s fine to use songs for humor, it’s unfortunate that their not able to find more sophisticated things to do with these songs. The original songs are less satisfying than the covers musically, and add nothing more to the story or character development than the covers do. They usually don’t even feel like they were written with the show or the characters singing it in mind. While I don’t think the writers should give up on the original songs, I really want them to realize how badly they’re being used, and stop using them for the big competitions scenes.

There are three original songs in this episode (well, okay, four counting “My Cup”), and none of them are particularly impressive. Sunshine’s song was dull and indistinguishable from any number of Celine Dion ballads; weak as New Direction’s performance was compared to past ones, there’s no way that New Directions would have placed above them. Also what exactly was Vocal Adrenaline practicing all the time? Sunshine was the only one who had to do anything, there wasn’t even any choreography in that number. Compared to their “Bohemian Rhapsody” at last year’s Regionals, this was a huge step down: Dustin Goolsby should be out of a job. “Pretending” was a decent song, and I liked how it commented on what was going on in this episode with Rachel and Finn’s relationship, it was actually decently used. It was fairly forgettable, but I’ll give it a pass. On the other hand, I have little to say about “Light Up the World” other than that it was mildly better than “Loser Like Me”, though it followed a very similar formula. In a rare turn for Glee, I really enjoyed the scene in which “I Love New York” was used, but the song itself was just terrible, and the performance sounded like something off that would be on the Disney Channel. Matthew Morrison’s performance of his own “Still Got Tonight” was very brief and the scene was extremely corny, making it seem more like a plug for the solo album it came off of than anything else. “Bella Notte” should have been a good scene, but the performance was incredibly awful, and even the way they pronounced the title set my teeth on edge. And then there’s “For Good” which is an excellent song and wonderfully sung, but was certainly the most misused song in the history of Glee.

So was there any point to introducing Sunshine? Is Charice joining the main cast next season?

This dovetails with another point, so lets talk about the show’s episode to episode consistency. It’s been a bit better in the second half of this season than for a while, but it can still really derail some of the characters, and Quinn really suffered in this case. In the last scene of the previous episode, Quinn threatened that she had some great plan that could hurt the their chances of winning at Nationals. This was barely addressed in this episode, and it only came up in one scene where Quinn threatened to tell Mr. Schuester that Kurt and Rachel snuck off when they were supposed to be in the hotel writing songs, which would apparently get them suspended in the world that Glee is set in (more likely it would get Mr. Schue in trouble), and hence unable to perform at Nationals, a plan that she could not possibly have come up with earlier than a few hours ago even if it did make any sense. However, Brittany and Santana manage to talk her out of her devious plan with a couple of sentences about how Glee club is the only thing that makes them happy, and offering to give her a haircut. Really, this should have been exploited more: Quinn could have concocted some more elaborate plan that would prevent them from competing at Nationals, and nearly carried it out, until Rachel finds out about it at the last minute. There could be some scene when Rachel confronts Quinn about all the issues they’ve had in the past, and ultimately wins her over by singing “For Good” with her. The relationship between the characters in “Glee” and the ones singing the song in “Wicked” is so similar that it could have been a truly magical, emotional moment that would cap off her (poor) storyline this year, and pave the way for future character development. Instead, Rachel and Kurt sing the song simply because it’s from Wicked and they’re on the Wicked stage. The lyrics don’t mean anything for those characters and that situation, and the tremendous emotion of the song is completely wasted. Rachel and Kurt could have even simply sung it to Mr. Schue and the Glee club at the end as a way of parting for the summer and I would’ve been tearing up. It really seems that Glee’s song choices are getting more arbitrary as the show goes on, to the point that the writers are just sticking songs into scenes almost at random, with only the flimsiest of pretenses that the songs represent anything the characters are feeling.

Similarly, the writers have been building up Mr. Schuester’s potential departure to Broadway stardom for a few episodes now, and it really seems like he should leave Ohio to pursue his dreams, since the show hasn’t provided a compelling argument as to why they should do otherwise. But Matthew Morrison is a regular and probably signed on for years and years to come, so they can’t write him out. Apparently sensing the hole they’ve gotten themselves into, this episode’s writer, Brad Falchuk, doesn’t even attempt to come up with a good reason for Schue not to pursue his Broadway dreams: it’s what he’s always wanted, the kids support him and think he should, he’s made his goodbyes to Terri, Emma, and Sue. Yet he doesn’t because he has “unfinished business” with New Directions. Uh, can’t he just coach them at Nationals and then star in April’s show? Why is this an either/or thing? And isn’t it way too late to ditch “Crossrhodes” since it’s about to open in a week? It was obvious this storyline would end with something like this, but the way Falchuk doesn’t even attempt to make it dramatic, or seem anything less than pointless, is grating.

However I really liked a lot of this episode, and if it had had stronger musical performances and made better use of “For Good” it would have been one of my favorites of the show. It managed to revitalize the Finn and Rachel relationship beautifully, and I like the way the writers are reshaping the relationship so it’s between Rachel, Finn, and Rachel’s future, rather than bringing in some other unnecessary love interest for one, or both of them. I’m hoping the writers will show them in this comfortable, more drama free kind of relationship next season, and not create lame drama and obstacles like they did this season. The last ten minutes were absolutely wonderful as well: the scene where Kurt told Blaine he loved him was really touching, and the Brittany and Santana scene was nicely underplayed: there have been complaints about it, but I like that the two of them aren’t being forced into a relationship right away. There’s really a lot for both of them to work out before that point, especially Santana who is still uncomfortable with the idea of coming out, and the two of them staying close friends (presumably with benefits) was a nice way to leave that relationship. I also like how the writers have rethought Brittany’s character a bit more in the last half season, when they started to develop the character more, to make her less of a blonde bimbo, and more just a quirky girl who says whatever outrageous thing comes to her mind, and loves outfits and crazy dancing. It’s not like they’ve made her someone really intelligent suddenly, but they’ve made her into something that resembles a real person more than the Brittany of old, without taking away from what made the character so enjoyable in the first place.

I was half expecting Rachel to do the Mary Tyler Moore hat throwing thing

I’m still not sure how I feel that New Directions lost at Nationals: I do think it was a nice touch that they didn’t even place in the top ten, but a loss was very predictable at this point, almost the easy thing to do. Winning Nationals next season will also be kind of a cheap way to create emotion for next year’s finale, after which the current characters will leave the show. Next season would be a bit more interesting if the characters had already achieved their goal, and had to look for other dreams and think of gaining bigger achievements. Still, it was nice that the episode emphasized that the experience itself was the real achievement and I liked how it underplayed the loss rather than creating more drama about it, like in last season’s finale. All in all I think this season, though weak and disappointing in a lot of ways, ended with a strong run of episodes that give me hope for next season. With any luck Falchuk, Murphy, and Brennan will rethink some of the things they’ve done wrong this season, and the additional writers that are being brought on board will help lend the show more consistency, and more satisfying dramatic story arcs. And if not, well, it will still be the same Glee we (or at least I) know and love, for better or worse.

“New York”: ☆ ☆ ☆ 1/2

Season Grade: ☆ ☆ 1/2

A Nightmare on Elm Street Parts 3 & 4

Posted in Serial Studies on May 27, 2011 by jybh

These movies are starting to get more like the posters, not the other way around.

A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 3: Dream Warriors (1987)

Nothing about “Dream Warriors” particularly stands out at first glance: it’s name is very similar to the next two films in the series, and it has all the baggage that comes with being the followup to a disastrous sequel in a slasher film series. But from even a cursory glance at the credits (which are more impressive now than at the time) it’s clear that more effort was put into than “Freddy’s Revenge”. Wes Craven has a story credit, and Frank Darabont worked on the script. Heather Langenkamp reprises her role from the original, something nearly unheard of in horror sequels, and the supporting cast includes future stars Patricia Arquette and Laurence Fishburne. My favorite film composer, Angelo Badalamenti, is credited for the score, hot off his brilliant work on the previous year’s “Blue Velvet”. So this isn’t your average slasher sequel. Still it’s doubtful that anyone would expect that it’s as brilliant as it is, or that it’s worthy of being considered among the very sequels ever made. I certainly didn’t.

You’ll notice that I refer to “Dream Warriors” as a sequel, and that’s really what it is, despite the “Part 3″ in the title.  It does retain the timeline of “Freddy’s Revenge” though, taking place six years after the events of the original (which was set in 1981, despite it’s 1984 release). It also is consistent with the fate of Nancy’s mother in that film: everyone claims she committed suicide in the living room, though it’s clear that Freddy killed her. I’m still not sure how this fits in with the ending of the original “Nightmare” (wouldn’t it be the bedroom?), but I’m willing to play along. Everything else from the second film is jettisoned: there’s no mention of Jesse or anyone living in the Krueger house after Nancy moved out (the house is now boarded up and appears dilapidated), Krueger can no longer possess people or affect them outside of their dreams, and his telekinetic powers are mercifully absent.

Langenkamp, now full on gorgeous. How did she not become a big star?

The premise of the film is brilliant, as it immediately discards comparisons to the original, and turns “Dream Warriors” into a completely different kind of film. The difference between this film and the original is as extreme as that between the first two Alien or Terminator films, yet it still feels connected to that film in a way that “Freddy’s Revenge” didn’t. The setting this time is not Elm Street, or even Springwood. The main center of action is Westin Hills, a psychiatric hospital that seems to be located a short distance from Springwood. There is another rash of teenagers having terrible nightmares again, this time more widespread than the last. Though it’s never made clear what exactly the kids have been diagnosed with, all of them seem a little off: perhaps driven mad by Krueger’s nightly visits, or simply affected by the medication, which of course, proves useless. All the doctors there try to convince the kids that their nightmares are simply side effects of their subconscious, and once they deal with their own issues, the nightmares will stop. However, the kids aren’t as convinced, particularly since they’ve realized how similar their dreams are. That is, until a brilliant but unorthodox young psychiatrist arrives at the hospital: Nancy from the first film, of course. She seemed on the verge of madness by the end of the first film, but here she has overcome her demons and become stronger, more resilient and mature. Heather Langenkamp’s performance in the first film was inconsistent, and at times shrill, but she is absolutely wonderful here, making Nancy recognizable as the same character from the original, while also showing how she’s changed in the years since. She explains that the teens are the last remaining children of the parents that killed Krueger, and that he’s come back to finish the task. After convincing the resident doctor, Dr. Neil Gordon that she’s telling the truth after the first child dies, they undergo a kind of hypnotherapy with the kids, allowing her to teach them to take control of their dreams. Each of the teens has certain dream abilities, the most notable of which is Kristen’s power to pull others into her dream, thus making it possible for them to team up against Krueger on his own turf.

The brilliance of the film lies in the way that it doesn’t even try to repeat it’s predecessors. The opening scene is very creepy, and resembles many of the dream sequences in the previous films, but after this the movie more or less gives up on horror completely. It doesn’t even really follow the slasher movie formula: the kids aren’t victims, but strong minded individuals who team up to fight Krueger. Though Kristen (Patricia Arquette) seems to be the final girl (she is the center of the action, has special powers, and is the most attractive) two other kids survive the movie, the adult characters are as central to the story as the teens, and the death scenes tend to aim for interesting visuals and dream imagery over traditional scares. It is not remotely puritanical or sexist either: the female characters tend to be stronger than the men, the victims aren’t predominantly female or in a racial minority, and there’s never any icky sense that any of the victims pay for moral mistakes that they’ve made. Best of all there are no virginal “good girl” characters, or slutty victims: for once in this sort of film the women are not defined by their sexual activity. There’s a sense of fun and adventure here that’s not present in the other films; the dreams are at once terrifying and exciting, as the kids discover they have abilities they couldn’t imagine in the real world. It’s more of a darkly comic fantasy than it is a slasher flick, though some of the same DNA remains.A very yong Patricia Arquette in her film debut

For the first time, the series realizes all the possibilities of the dream world setting, and the deaths are much crazier and more surreal: Freddy controls a boy like a puppet with his tendons, and makes walk off a bridge, he kills a recovering drug addict with needles in place of his razors, he attacks Kristen in the form of a giant worm, and he can take on the appearance of any person, which provides a powerful moment at the film’s climax. The dream world is no longer limited to dark, industrial hallways: now one room can lead into a completely different one, an indoor hallway can lead outdoors, and anyone can come crashing through the mirrors. The film’s effects certainly aren’t realistic looking, but they’re a fine example of how imaginative special effects artists could be in the 80′s, and the film is a secret treasure trove of great effects, from a stop motion Freddy puppet to a live action/animation combination late in the film. However, a fight with a stop motion skeleton near the end is a giant misstep, as the effects are so dreadful that it’s impossible to enjoy what should have been a fun moment.

The characterization and acting throughout are a strong suit of the film, and are by far the best of the series. Though I can probably only name a handful of the kids in the movie, I can recall all of their faces and personalities (aside from Joey, a pretty personality-free character who survives the entire film for some reason). This might sound like faint praise, but there are seven central kids, plus the characters of Nancy and Dr. Neil Gordon (Craig Wasson), who get the best character development in the film, and the film is only 96 minutes long. It is certainly an ensemble film, a rarity in the horror genre: there’s no clear central character. There’s not a lot of time for character development, but the film does a very good job fleshing out the central adult characters and Kristen (Patricia Arquette), who fills the “final” girl role (even though two others survive the movie). The others are likeable, and fleshed out enough to care about, however, and this is the rare slasher film where you can’t be sure who is going to die and because of this, and the relatively strong characterization, there’s a weight to the deaths. Aside from one near the end of the film, none of them are likely to be tearjerkers, but the characters aren’t just personality-less ciphers lining up for Freddy to kill them, as in the next three films in the series.

However, any discussion of this movie should note that many of the changes in this film ended up derailing the series, the comic tone most of all. The comic one liners from Freddy in particular, eventually remove any element of menace that Englund could give the character, turning him into more of a wacky uncle that kills the occasional teenager than a deadly child murderer. Some of his one liners are painfully bad (“Tongue tied, Tommy?” he asks as Tommy is literally tied down with tongues), but often the jokes manage to still be threatening and seem pretty consistent with Freddy’s personality in the first two films. Even the infamous “Welcome to Primtime Bitch!” line is actually pretty effective and chilling in the context of the film, though I’m not sure it’s worth the trend it begins of Freddy ending every sentence spoken to a woman with the word “bitch”. Though this film eventually ruins the character, it is my favorite of Krueger’s appearances: he is menacing but also has a distinctive personality. As terrible as Krueger is he still enjoys a good joke, like the rest of us: this humanizes Krueger in a way that never makes him less scary."Welcome to primetime, bitch!"

Interestingly, the next three films in the series are not tepid retreads of the first film, but of this one, though they graft a much more generic slasher film structure onto surreal set pieces and tongue in cheek humor. I think this is telling: this film has a kind of magic about it, and is a near perfect mixture of humor, action, horror, good performances, and effective storytelling. This is the definitive “Elm Street” movie for me, and it’s one of the few sequels in history that not only lives up to the original, but outdoes it.

“A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: Dream Master” (1988)

I really have very little to say about this one. It is without a doubt the least interesting and memorable of the Elm Street films. The offensively bad first half hour is the only thing that really defines it: the rest settles for mediocrity. You can tell it’s going to be rough from the get go: the actress playing Kristen has changed from the distinctive Patricia Arquette, to the blandly pretty Tuesday Knight (apparently Arquette was pregnant and couldn’t reprise the role: she dodged a bullet with this one), and the opening scene looks more like a Bonnie Tyler video than anything remotely threatening or scary. There’s a whole lot of flowing curtains, lightning flashes, and dramatic slow motion in this film, courtesy of hack director Renny Harlin, who wouldn’t know dramatic tension if it punched him in the face. The film looks crisper and more expensive than the others, but also much blander, like a high budget CW show. The score (by Craig Safan, no Angelo Badalamenti), always unsubtle in this series, is now a pulsing, pounding mess: you know what parts are supposed to be scary because the music starts blasting at top volume for no reason.

This film absolutely has no plot whatsoever: it doesn’t even attempt narrative coherence. Apparently the writers couldn’t think of any way to get around Krueger’s unusually definitive death in the previous film, because they don’t even try. Kincaid (Ken Sagoes, reprising his role from the last film) has a dream in which his dog, Jason (get it?… sigh) digs up the ground where Freddy’s remains were buried and pisses fire on it. This actually happens. Then there’s a big earthquake, Freddy comes out of it, and Kincaid’s dead. I thought it was pretty ahead of it’s time for the last film to let the only person of color survive, but here he’s the first to go here. Then Joey and Kristen get eliminated, in list like fashion. The film starts out seeming unusually connected to the previous one as far as continuity goes, but it’s soon clear that the filmmakers are just killing off loose ends. Somehow the film strips these characters of their personalities entirely, rendering them one dimensional cardboard cutouts. The death scenes are an absolute mess: they attempt to be wacky, surreal, and off the wall, but the general impression is just of confusion. Insane things that I won’t even attempt to describe happen in this film, but they’re so poorly executed it’s easy to get bored during them.

A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 9: Freddy vs. The Magic School Bus

Of course, by the time Kristen dies, the film has introduced four more utterly dull characters to get killed off (though that may not be fair, two of them survive). There’s Alice (Lisa Wilcox, in the film’s worst performance, which is no small feat) an incredibly obvious final girl, her brother Dan (Andras Jones), who was Kristen’s boyfriend, and whose sole personality trait is his bizarre hairstyle and lame martial arts moves. Then there’s Sheila (Toy Newkirk) and Dan (Danny Hassel): Dan is only there to be a hunky love interest, and Sheila is a generic pretty face with no real personality (though she strangely lifts weights). The rest of the film just involves them being killed off in lame ways, after which Alice absorbs their spirits for some reason. She then ultimately uses these skills (well, kind of) to fight Krueger, before killing him once again by holding a piece of stained glass in front of him. I usually try to refrain from spoilers a bit but there’s not much to ruin here. The film does feature a cool bit of explanation though: Krueger can only enter the dreams of the children of those who killed him. He can only get to Alice because she absorbs Kristen’s spirit, but he kills off the other victims when Alice pulls them into her dream. It’s a cool idea, but terribly executed, as each victim’s dream is clearly their own dream, not Alice’s. It should be mentioned that this directly contradicts “Freddy’s Revenge”, but the series seems to have decided that the events of that film never occurred, which is fine with me.

So that’s it for this film: it’s not scary, it’s not funny, Freddy isn’t menacing at all (here he’s kind of dull and difficult to understand more than anything), it has one of the worst final girls of any slasher film, and doesn’t even really have any gore or memorable setpieces. Yet it is still not the worst film in this series, not by a long shot. Tune in next week to find out what film earns that dubious honor.

A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 3: Dream Warriors: ☆ ☆ ☆ 1/2

A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 4: Dream Master: ☆

Schindler’s List

Posted in I Was Going to Watch That... on May 23, 2011 by jybh

Welcome to I Was Going to Watch That…! Here I talk about “classic” or “important” movies that I’ve known I should see for a long time, but just never got around to watching. Sometimes there’s a reason I’ve put these movies off: a personal distaste for the genre, the director, or some other personal reason; other times I just never got around to it. This week’s movie is a big one, “Schindler’s List” (1993).

I can’t really remember a time when I didn’t mean to see “Schindler’s List”. I wouldn’t say Steven Spielberg is one of my favorite filmmakers, I appreciate his work and have seen all of his other major films (and a lot of minor ones). Yet I omitted his most acclaimed film for the entirety of my high school and college years. Even when I finally buckled down and moved it to the top of my Netflix queue, I let the movie sit there for weeks and weeks, something I never do. I was busy, I had to get ready for finals, had to spend time with my friends before graduation, had to look for jobs. All of these were true. Yet I imagine I could have fit three hours in there somewhere to watch this movie.

I’m not sure why I’ve avoided it so aggressively. Part of it is that I tend to avoid Holocaust movies in general, partly because they’re the ultimate misery porn, and are depressing and hard to watch in a very real sense, and partly because filmmakers in recent years have tended to use the Holocaust as a cheap ploy to lend their movie an air of seriousness, retroactively giving pretty much any Holocaust movie a sense of bad taste. Robert Benigni’s concentration camp slapstick comedy “Life is Beautiful” (1997) is probably the most offensive example of this.  It was also probably a slight case of institutional rebellion: when I’m told over and over again that a film is incredibly important, I “have” to see it, it’s one of the greatest films ever made, etc., I sometimes build up a strange resistance to seeing the movie, either because I’m afraid it won’t live up to expectations, or out some odd desire to rebel against the common opinion. Whatever the case, I finally managed to put “Schindler’s List” in the player and watch it from start to finish a couple of days ago.

Liam Neeson

The first thing that struck me was how simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar the film was. Many scenes were familiar, either from seeing bits of it on TV, reading about it, or had been absorbed over the years from who knows where. Yet though I knew the individual moments, it was strange seeing how the linked up (or didn’t) throughout the film. One thing that struck me was how stark and unsentimental the first half of the film is. Oskar Schindler (Liam Neeson, reminding us that there’s a reason he’s so well respected) is originally portrayed as a scrupulous businessman, only interested in profit. At one point he states that an ingredient was missing from all his other businesses that kept them from being successful: war. He doesn’t employ Jews out of any fondness for them, or desire to keep them from being deemed as useless by the Nazis, but because they are the cheapest labor available. His womanizing habits are presented straightforwardly, and the film, in a rare move for Spielberg, doesn’t really tell the viewer how to feel about this morally. If I hadn’t known, I doubt I would have guessed that this first half was directed by Spielberg: I might have guessed Francis Ford Coppola, or even Stanley Kubrick, since it is very unsentimental, and isn’t as warm as Spielberg’s films usually are (a good thing here, given the harsh subject matter). The direction is unusually stylized for a Spielberg film as he intentionally alters his usual shooting style to imitate a prestige film from the 40’s or 50’s, much as he did with “Indiana Jones” and 1930’s serials. The black and white photography was a brilliant choice, and gives the film a timeless feel. The use of light and shadows is gorgeous as well, sometimes even resembling German expressionist films, and serves as a visual metaphor for the tricky issues of morality at play in the film, in a way that manages not to be overbearing.

Spielberg’s warmth and sentiment, in the early sections of the film, are only really present when the film focuses on the Jewish ghettos. Spielberg’s approach in these scenes resembles that of the Italian neorealist filmmakers, particularly Roberto Rosselini. He focuses on a pretty large number of Jewish characters, mostly women, who are defined mainly by their faces, and the personality that comes through in their brief scenes. The actors and actresses playing these characters are unknowns and have appeared in only a handful of films since, but seem amazingly genuine and realistic in their scenes. Many of them are actual Polish Jews. One wonders if, like the neorealist directors, Spielberg simply directed these actors to play themselves, and filmed the result. Regardless these sections work very well, and the presence of these individuals humanizes the victims of the Holocaust in a way that few Hollywood films have managed. Though it is impossible to keep track of all the names, the faces of many of these people linger in the mind of the viewer long after it is over. It’s remarkable that Spielberg can imitate the styles of so many other directors here (William Wyler, Martin Scorsese, and Rosselini are the clearest influences), without it becoming distracting or forced. Indeed, I doubt that the majority of people who see this film realize how stylish it is.

Ralph Fiennes as Goeth

The film is pretty neatly divided into three hours: the initial introductory hour, which is more laid back, and even funny, than one would expect the film to be; the second, in which the film’s characters realize the true horror of the Holocaust, and finally the redemption, in which the titular list plays a role, Schindler is redeemed for his early crimes, and the war finally comes to an end. The second hour is the strongest of the film, which is due not only to Spielberg’s unflinching, unforgettable portrayal of these horrors, but also by Ralph Fiennes’ incredible performance as Amon Goeth, the film’s antagonist. Fiennes is one of those actors who has enormous screen presence and charisma, but rarely really seems able to fully inhabit a character. In most of his roles, you can visibly see him acting, trying to sink into the role, but the resulting performance is generally empty and lacking in emotion. One wonders if he resorts to roles that require makeup (as in “The English Patient”, “Red Dragon”, and the “Harry Potter” films) so often because he can then at least become the character visually, if not through acting. He has played major roles in two best picture winners (this and “The English Patient”, three years later), yet he’s been sinking into anonymity ever sense, and rarely manages to land lead roles.

This performance now stands as a reminder of what promise Fiennes once had, and what a great actor he might have been. For the first, and only time in his career (that I’m aware of) Fiennes really sinks into his character, and what a character it is. Goeth is a living monster, a man who initially seems sociopathic, creating chaos in the ghettos just for the fun of it, and shooting random Jews from his back porch as a morning sport. Yet never does this become over the top or campy: Fiennes plays Goeth with a quiet intensity and makes his bloodlust feel incredibly real. But the film doesn’t stop there, as it reveals many more sides of Goeth throughout. Once he makes his entrance the film adopts him as a new main character for the central section of the film. He becomes the embodiment of everything terrifying about the Nazi party, which remains terrifying even after 65 years later. The way Spielberg humanizes the character actually makes him more disturbing: where he could have been a cartoonishly evil Nazi caricature, it’s made clear that he is simply an extremely twisted man. In a jarring scene, he attends a Jewish wedding party with Schindler and is shown to be a fun loving man who enjoys good drink and beautiful women, just like Schindler (the two men are contrasted throughout). He has a strange, twisted relationship with a Jewish woman who he essentially imprisons in his basement, Helen Hirsch (Embeth Davidtz); a part of him loves her, but his outlook on the world makes it impossible for him to see her as a human being. He dreams of taking her back to Vienna with him, while knowing that he will execute her when he has to leave. The multi-dimensionality and psychological realism of the character, along with Fiennes’ terrifying performance, makes Goeth one of cinema’s greatest villains.

At one point, attempting to defend Goeth’s actions to Itzhak Stern (Ben Kingsley, who weirdly looks quite different, but no younger than he does now), the Jewish accountant who is the real brains behind Schindler’s business, Schindler claims that were it not for the war, Goeth would be a different man. He’s probably right: were it not for the war and the Nazi party’s influence Goeth might have been a perfectly good man, at least in appearance, who never discovered his penchant for violence and torture, whereas Schindler might be a corrupt, greedy, anti-Semitic businessman who cares about nothing but his own profit. The strange relationship between Schindler and Goeth, and the way that Spielberg uses the two men as mirror images of each other is one of the greatest things about the film, and the characterization is by far the most nuanced of Spielberg’s career.

Ben Kingsley as Stern

Then there’s the final hour, which contains nearly all of the film’s most famous sequences, and feels much more like a Spielberg film than the rest. After the languorous pacing of the first two hours, this all seems strangely rushed: first the film jumps several years to 1944; Goeth quickly disappears from the film as the Krakow ghettoes are closed down and he’s moved to Auschwitz. Realizing what will happen to the Jews, and transformed by the horror of Goeth’s actions and his friendship with Stern, Schindler starts up a new company making artillery shells, which is merely a front to prevent as many Jews as possible from going to Auschwitz, paying each worker’s wages to the Germans out of his own pocket. Then there’s the scene where he and Stern make the titular list, which is appropriately iconic, though it does whitewash history a bit to make the men seem more heroic.

The film’s most memorable sequence comes shortly afterwards, when a trainful of women who were meant to go to Schindler’s factory are instead shipped to Auschwitz. The confused women arrive to what they think is their salvation, only to be stripped naked and sent to the showers. The women stand there, sure they will die, only for the showers to turn and emit water rather than gas. The sequence is amazingly vivid, and Spielberg forces the viewer to share the emotions of the victims. It is also beautifully shot, as Spielberg takes the film’s stark contrast of light and darkness to new heights: the darkness becomes dank and foreboding, while any light becomes blinding and oppressive. It’s certainly one of most terrifying of any film about the Holocaust: this scene alone achieves what Spielberg set out to do with his film. The situation is corrected, and they arrive at the factory safely. After seven months the war ends, and Schindler becomes a war criminal and flees Poland. The scene where he departs, the people that he’s saved surrounding him, and is suddenly guilt stricken at the realization that he could have spared more money, and saved more people than he did, while Stern comforts him, is extremely moving, but is one of the few instances when Spielberg overplays his hand and makes the scene overly sentimental. The surviving Jews embracing and comforting Schindler is memorable and touching, but also a bit schmaltzy and unrealistic. And the final scene, in which the real Schindler Jews place stones on Okar Schindler’s tomb, accompanied by the actors who portrayed them, is a mistake: it’s the kind of crowd pleasing ending that would be more suitable to a Hallmark movie of the week than a great piece of cinema. It’s jarring, as if Spielberg thinks that the audience needs to be reminded that this isn’t just a movie, it’s an Important Social Message.

Writing the list

Despite the great praise I’ve given the film, it must be said that it’s far from perfect. It’s actually a bit of a mess structurally. In his attempt to make the ultimate statement on the Holocaust and the suffering of the Jews, Spielberg has stuffed several movies into this one. The film sometimes feels like a collection of great scenes, with little connecting thread. It is extraordinarily unfocused as well: Schindler disappears for long portions of the films, as do all the Jewish characters, Goeth becomes the central character for about an hour, before abruptly disappearing, only to return for a brief scene in which he is hanged (though this is partly an issue of history getting in the way of storytelling), and one gets the sense that the order of many scenes could be switched around without impacting the film in any way. Spielberg’s dabbling with color is a terrible mistake that comes off as a mere gimmick to get the audience’s attention: it’s as if he just couldn’t resist using special effects of some sort. And it can feel pretty baggy and overlong at times, mostly due to the complete lack of narrative drive until the final third. It’s the rare film that feels both too long, and a bit underdeveloped. This certainly doesn’t sink the film, and it’s doubtless that focusing the film more would have come at the cost of losing some memorable scenes, but it does hold it back from being the flawless masterpiece that it’s often claimed to be.

Still, “Schindler’s List” is certainly an important film, and one of the most moving and respectful tributes to the victims and survivors of the Holocaust ever put on film.

Schindler’s List:  ☆☆☆ 1/2

Glee Season 2: “Prom Queen” & “Funeral”

Posted in Current TV, Glee on May 20, 2011 by jybh

I am still a bit sad that this episode wasn't an "Arcade Fire" tribute. Missed opportunities...

Welcome to the Guilty Snob’s “Glee” blog! Unfortunately this season of Glee is about to wrap up, so I’ll be reviewing “Prom Queen” and “Funeral” this week, check in next week for the season finale, and then we’ll be on hold till Season 3 starts up in September.

Glee is a difficult show to review, because I’m never quite sure what sort of standard I’m holding it too. Even the worst episodes are pretty entertaining and do little to damage my fondness for the show. And the best episodes are still extremely flawed, since they are often poorly structured or have the kind of odd out of character moments that Glee is filled with. In many ways it is the anti-Wire for me: the episode structure is poor, the show has no idea how to build an arc over several episodes, and to say that the character development is all over the place would be extremely forgiving. Yet it is wildly entertaining: each episode is so energetic and frantically paced that the length of a single episode seems like no time at all. Sometimes I feel a bit guilty for enjoying it as much as I do, when there are other, better shows that are probably more deserving of my time. Yet I also think that Glee is doing some things that nothing else on TV right now is doing, and that the greatest moments the show is capable of make the show’s many terrible scenes worth watching.

Glee is nothing if not a show built around moments. I think the show’s so sloppily structured because the writers aren’t necessarily interested in having a strict beginning, middle, and end for each episode, much less the season. They just want to fill the show with as many big “moments” as possible. This can make the show feel a bit frantic and forced at times, particularly when the writers are clearly manipulating the characters and events in order to reach the payoff they’ve envisioned. I don’t think I have a huge problem with this: it ensures that the show is filled with scenes I want to return to again and again, but it ultimately holds the show back from greatness. Unlike “The Wire”, “Mad Men”, “Buffy” and “Angel”, and other great shows, there’s never a sense that the whole series has been building up to something, where knowledge of the characters’ histories and what’s come before contributes to the emotions. You have to live in the moment to appreciate the show, which sadly, entails forgetting what’s come before.

Though “Prom Queen” may not quite reach the heights of the very best “Glee” episodes, it certainly does all the things that I want a good episode of the show to do. It glides along so easily that by the time it’s over, you wonder how 45 minutes have passed. It does a suprisingly good job of highlighting a number of the show’s best characters, and features at least one great moment that can match up to the best ones that the show’s pulled off. Come to think of it, the finale of this episode is one of the few sequences the show’s done which is as powerful as it is because the writers have been building to it for nearly the entire season. The show hasn’t created such a memorable sequence so organically since last season’s finale, when Quinn gave birth to Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody”.

This episode overall  isn’t as great as “Journey”, which is probably my favorite episode of the show, but it is very funny and sweet, and has some of the best musical performances of the whole season (though, admittedly, “Friday” was obnoxious, obvious, and already dated). The episode pretty loosely follows all the couples, has-been couples, and fake couples as they get ready for junior prom. Finn’s tired of Quinn’s endless campaign for prom queen and misses the relatively low profile Rachel (probably the only one of these kids who is still actually unpopular), while Jesse returns just in time to get Finn to act jealous in kind of creepy ways. Artie’s pining for Brittany and desperately tries to impress her so they can get back together before prom, Kurt wants to take Blaine to the dance, though Burt and Blaine aren’t sure it’s a good idea, and Mercedes wishes she had someone to go to prom with her. The idea of bringing Jess back is pretty lame, since it’s just further proof that the show has no idea how to create new places for the Finn/Rachel storyline to go, other than to repeat storylines from last season, but the scene where he returns and performs a haunting rendition of John Legend’s “Rolling in the Deep” cover with Rachel is good enough for me to gloss over that one. Meanwhile the Sue Sylvester character reaches an all time nadir, as she resorts to torturing Artie during prom in an attempt to make him confess that Puck put him up to spiking the punch at prom (the less said about this storyline, the better).

This scene didn't make into the episode. Hmm....

But these are relatively minor gripes given how energetic and inspired much of this episode is. Aside from Sue and that performance of “Friday” the prom scene is absolutely wonderful: Lea Michele’s performance of “Jar of Hearts” is dazzling and perhaps better than the original (though it may be a little dark for the context it’s being used in), and Darren Criss contributes a fun, atypical number with “I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You”. It’s really enjoyable to see the character’s reactions throughout the night, the dancing is a lot of fun, and the whole sequence really captures the atmosphere of what a great school dance with your best friends can be like. Admittedly that dance floor is way too empty and there’d be a whole lot more bumping and grinding going on, but it’s still a surprisingly realistic scene.

And then there are the final moments, in which Karofsky and Kurt are voted Prom King and Queen as a homophobic joke on the part of the student body. Kurt is hurt and storms out of the gym, and the rest of the Glee club follows suit. Here all the tensions of the episode play out: Quinn slaps Rachel for ruining her chances of becoming prom queen, Brittany comforts the frustrated Santana, and a heartbroken Kurt nearly leaves the school, before Blaine encourages him not to give up. Ultimately Kurt and Karofsky accept the awards, but Karofsky is unable to come out in front of the whole school, and flees the gym rather than dance with Kurt, and the school celebrates to Santana and Mercedes’ rendition of “Dancing Queen”.  These final moments are simply magical: Chris Colfer has always been one of the best actors and performers on the show, and he really nails Kurt’s vulnerability and frustration when the prom queen announcement is made. The moment between Brittany and Santana, probably the most consistent and well written characters, is surprisingly simple and moving. And Max Adler continues to prove that he’s worthy of becoming a full time cast member: in an early scene where he apologizes to Kurt, and the moment when he contemplates what to do after accepting the prom king award, Adler reveals much more complicated emotions playing out in his character’s mind than the script provides for him. And despite the fact that I can’t stand Abba, the “Dancing Queen” sequence is one of the show’s greatest: the song choice is obvious and corny, yet the scene is so joyous and full of life it hardly matters. Like “Don’t Stop Believing” back in the pilot episode, the scene proves that it’s not the song that matters, but the emotion behind the performance.

I thought “Funeral” was a similarly solid episode, if it didn’t quite reach the heights of the two episodes preceding it. The episode has been getting a lot of heavy criticism from viewers and critics alike, and I’m not really sure why. The criticisms probably lie more in what’s come before it than the episode itself, really. Throughout the season the show has slowly been destroying Sue, once the favorite of fans and critics alike, turning her into a Looney Tunes cartoon character who physically assaults her students, threatens to torture them, and even puts their lives in danger. In this episode’s first, and weakest, scene, Sue inexplicably reroutes the Glee club’s plane to New York so that it will land in Libya. I’m not sure why the writers included this, since the rest of the episode tries to make amends for how badly the writers have damaged Sue’s character. After Will finds out that Sue has kicked Becky off the cheerleading squad, he angrily confronts her about it, and discovers that she did it because she reminds her of her sister, who died of pneumonia the day before. Finn and Kurt, who have been affected by the deaths of their parents, attempt to help her out by making arrangements for the funeral, much to the chagrin of Jesse, who’s been hired as an advisor to help New Directions win Nationals.

The structure of this episode is very simple, featuring only two storylines, and appropriately sparse. Jane Lynch’s performance is wonderful, as she manages to show Sue grieving without softening the character too much. Even the often hilarious insults she doles out have a sense of loss behind them, yet aren’t made less funny because of it. It’s actually an unusually fine episode for all the adult characters, as Will and Emma are allowed to behave like rational humans that aren’t inappropriately cartoonish or creepy for an entire hour. Even Terri is given a little humanity in her last scene (which would seem to be her last appearance on the show ever, thank God). I really wish the show were writing Will out as well, since he’s been likable for several episodes now, and I know the show won’t keep up this streak next season. Besides, sending him to Broadway to perform with April would be the perfect end to his character. However, the writers are really banking on the assumption that we’ll conveniently forget everything these characters have done for a large portion of the season, and accept the way they’ve abruptly returned to their season one versions of themselves. Since Glee does this on a regular basis I don’t have too much of an issue here: I don’t really see any organic way the show can redeem these characters at this point, so they might as well force it on them. Killing off Jean to humanize Sue (again) may be incredibly forced, but then again, that’s been Jean’s function since she was introduced. She was never really a character in her own right so much as she served as Sue’s conscience: now Sue will have to find her own.

The other storyline, in which Jesse decides that the best strategy to win Nationals is for New Directions to build their whole routine around the best performer, and holds auditions to determine the star of the show, was also forced, but it was worth it for the audition scene, which highlights four powerhouse performances. Naya Rivera proves once again that she can do a hell of a Amy Winehouse imitation with her performance of “Back to Black” (one of my favorite songs); Chris Colfer does Gypsy beautifully once again with his “Some People”; Amber Riley gives “Try A Little Tenderness” her all; and, best of all, Lea Michele channels Barbara better than ever before with her incredibly emotional  rendition of “My Man”. It is a little strange to have all these back to back (couldn’t they have been spread throughout the episode?) and the show seems to expect us to be infuriated by Jesse’s pretty reasonable criticisms, but the performances themselves were stunning and (best of all) weren’t Autotuned to hell; though I’m sure some Autotuning was present, it didn’t distract from the songs like it often does. “My Man” was my favorite of the four, obviously, but I think my least favorite was “Try A Little Tenderness”, which seems to be a fan favorite. It certainly wasn’t bad, but I still find Amber Riley annoyingly self indulgent and any performance of this song will always compare unfavorably to Andrew Strong’s version in “The Committments” (1991), possibly the best performance scene in a narrative film.

The funeral scene itself also managed to be touching, rather than cringe inducing (which it easily could have been), mostly due to how well acted it was. Sue can’t finish her speech and Will reads it for her, and the kids decorate the funeral parlor Willy Wonka style (apparently it was Jean’s favorite movie) and sing “Pure Imagination”: this sounds horribly saccharine on paper, but is actually quite sweet (no pun intended), and the arrangement of the song that’s used is quite beautiful. The photo montage of Sue and her sister is a bit much though: I’d rather things were just focused on Sue and the performers.

I'm still not sure whether I prefer Artie and Brittany or Santana or Brittany. It's probably best for none of them to be together though, since they'll actually get some screen time if they're single.

Somehow the episode has ten minutes left to go, and these scenes seem oddly tacked on. Finn breaks up with Quinn immediately after the funeral for some reason: this scene is very well played, and feels pretty realistic, but the timing is just weird, like the writers are obligated to get them to break up before the end of the season and made it happpen out of nowhere. A close look at the promo for this episode reveals that some scenes featuring the two of them ended up being left out of the final cut, which may have kept this from seeming so rushed. There’s also some further scenes with Will and Sue, and Terri, and Emma which serve as a goodbye to these characters for the season, since they won’t appear in the finale; the Sue scene was one too many, as it had nowhere left to go aside from the incredibly sentimental route, but the scene with Emma is genuinely sweet, as she encourages Will to forget about her and Ohio, and follow his dreams. If this were the last scene between the two (which it unfortunately won’t be) it would be a nice capper on the relationship, and enough to make us forget how disturbing and creepy it became. As it stands, there’s probably many more years of psychosexual mindgames in the future for these two kids, before one of them dies of cancer or something in season 7.

As a whole, these last three episodes of Glee have done a lot of work towards saving this season’s reputation, and proving that there’s still lots to look forward to Season 3: here’s to hoping the streak continues with the finale, and we can go out talking about how that second season of Glee wasn’t so bad after all.

Prom Queen: ☆☆☆ 1/2

Funeral: ☆☆☆

The Wire: Season One

Posted in Classic TV, The Wire on May 18, 2011 by jybh

"Listen carefully" is right... the dialogue on this show can by very difficult to understand at times.

Welcome to my “The Wire” blog! The first two weeks will be spent taking a look back at the first two seasons, before I embark on season three, which I’m told is the best season of the series. Today I’ll be talking about my feelings about the first season, and the show in general. Hope you enjoy!

It has become commonplace over the last few years to cite “The Wire” as the greatest television show of all time over the last few years, and it doesn’t seem like anyone who has actually seen the show is really willing to disagree with this claim. Every television blog seems like it has to write about “The Wire” and constantly compare any and every other TV show to its standard. A new essay about the series seems to be published online every day.

So it’s obviously very daunting to begin a new blog about “The Wire”: what is there to be said about it that hasn’t already been said? There are hundreds, possibly thousands of internet bloggers out there more qualified to discuss it than myself, who have watched and rewatched the series ad nauseam, and spent hundreds of hours of their lives analyzing the themes, characters, and complex storylines. This blog really exists for my own benefit: to provide a place where I can wrestle with my conflicted feelings about the show, and think about the themes and characters more deeply than I would on my own.

Because I must say, that although I agree that The Wire is one of the greatest television shows ever produced (though saying it’s definitively “the greatest” seems a bit hyperbolic), I’m still not sure that I’m a fan of “The Wire” on a personal level. It’s certainly not the show I look forward to watching the most, nor is it one of the more entertaining shows in TV history. And it’s undoubtedly the most visually ugly series that HBO has produced since “Oz” (though this is at least partly by design.) For me, anyway, it’s more a show to admire than a show to love. The writers can pull together dozens of tangled plot lines together seemingly effortlessly and develop the characters with astonishing grace, but only a few times in the first two seasons has the show featured a really memorable individual scene, or been able to really get under my skin and move me emotionally. It’s extremely rare that I finish an episode and feel like I can’t wait to start the next one.

Now clearly this not the way everyone feels about this show and I’m sure that for some this series has provided some of the most emotionally cathartic moments of all time. Maybe I’ll be eating my words by the time I finish the series. But I do believe that the series is less than perfect, that there are things even less great series have pulled off much better than this show, and that it could probably use some constructive criticism, after the endless stream of fawning reviews the series has received in the last few years.

But lest I sound too much like a dissenter from the common opinion, I’ll begin with some praise for the first season. Even if I’m not sure that “The Wire” is the greatest series of all time, I’ll admit that it pulls off some incredibly difficult things better than any other series I’ve seen. Any praise of the show really needs to start with the incredible ensemble cast. David Simon and his co-writers manage to establish an amazingly rich world full of memorable and rich characters without even seeming to try. It’s nearly impossible for me to name the best character on the series (which makes it a bit strange to me that most fans are so quick to agree that it’s Omar), and even making a top ten list is difficult. The more characters “The Wire” draws into its world, and the larger its tangled web of relationships gets, the better it becomes. The casting is also amazingly astute: I haven’t seen any of the actors in this series in anything made before the show aired, and everyone not only perfectly suits their character, but they also look like real people you’d see on the street; aside from Dominic West, no one here looks anything like a movie (or TV) star.

There are innumerable other strengths as well, which I don’t really have room to elaborate on here: the plotting is incredibly dense, almost to the point of being convoluted and difficult to follow, but every storyline is elegantly sewn together and wrapped in the last few episodes of both seasons, while still providing room for the series to continue. The show isn’t afraid to shake things up either; the central figures are constantly shifting, and Simon never takes the easy way out, as the show moves its characters into very different positions than they were in originally by the end of the first season. TV is usually about maintaining the status quo, and most shows are hesitant to shake things up so greatly that the series has to change its focus or character relationships significantly, but these elements are constantly changing in “The Wire”, and the show obstinately refuses to follow any kind of familiar pattern or formula for more than a few episodes at a time.

There’s a downside to this too though, and that is that the show can be pretty uncompelling for large periods of time while it slowly puts the pieces into place. When the storylines start to come together and the story reaches a climax in the last half of each season, it’s extraordinarily satisfying, but some of the early episodes end up feeling like a chore. If I were to see the first few episodes of this show, free of its hype and reputation, I could probably walk away and never give it a second thought, particularly since I’m not an enormous fan of cop shows. Yes, “The Wire” ultimately transcends this label, but the first time through the initial two or three episodes simply seems like a very slow and complicated police drama. It’s not until the sixth episode, also titled “The Wire”, that you start to realize how complex the characters have become, and how intimately you’ve become acquainted with the details and nuances of their lives. The story also kicks into high gear, and the introduction of the titular wire taps turns the hunt for Barksdale into an extremely compelling, but also believable cat and mouse game that climaxes in the most satisfying “unsatisfying” resolution I’ve ever seen. There aren’t big triumphs in this show, just small half victories, but Simon somehow manages to make this connect extremely well.

The only character that never really transcends their “type” or seems to develop organically is Jimmy McNulty (Dominic West) himself, the ostensible protagonist, who pretty much follows the stereotype of the loose cannon cop who’s not afraid to break the rules to a T, though the show is much more willing to show him make mistakes than a typical cop show. I’m sure that people like this exist, and McNulty isn’t exactly an unbelievable character, but it’s still disappointing that he’s pretty much the same character as the protagonist of every other police drama, especially when he takes away screen time from other, more compelling characters. I’ll also say that, as realistic, well researched, and well-acted the police side of the show is, the characters and storylines concerning the characters from “the streets” is far more compelling; it can sometimes be frustrating to cut away from those characters back to McNulty and the gang, though the two are well enough integrated in the back half of the first season to remove most of this frustration. This becomes a real problem in the second season, however, as I’ll discuss next week.

I’ll have a lot to say in the future about the show’s best performers, particularly Wendell Pierce, Wood Harris, Idris Elba, Michael K. Williams, Andre Royo, and Clarke Peters, but for now I’ll just repeat that it’s an incredible ensemble, hurt only by the severe shortage of compelling female characters. This is excusable though, since the show deals with what is mostly male territory in real life as well: it would be awkward to shoehorn more strong women into the show just to make sure all the demographics are covered.

Ultimately “The Wire” is an extraordinary show, with a scope much larger than anything else on TV has attempted. It achieves what it aims to do extraordinarily well, and its density ensures that it can be watched over and over again. I imagine that I’ll enjoy the show much more on repeat viewings. However, I sometimes wonder how entertaining even its greatest admirers find it. This isn’t exactly an endurance test, and it’s not like it’s so arty that the common television viewer can’t enjoy it. But sometimes the oceans of exposition, the endless setting up of themes and characters, and the sometimes heavy handed social criticism seem to be daring the viewer to keep up, and not to switch over to something a bit less challenging, and that is more immediately entertaining and satisfying from episode to episode. There’s certainly no other show like “The Wire.” It’s amazingly great TV, but it’s the first great show I’ve seen that only rarely really grabs me, and with which I pretty much have to force myself to move on to the next episode, rather than hardly being able to wait for it. I think in some ways this might be why so few dispute its status as the greatest show of all time: because they feel like the greatest art shouldn’t be too entertaining.

“The Wire” Season One:  ☆☆☆1/2

Big Love Season 5, Episode 1: “Winter”

Posted in Big Love, Classic TV on May 17, 2011 by jybh

"After the fall comes Winter?" Who the hell did HBO hire to come up with these taglines?

Welcome to my Big Love blog! I’ll be writing here while I watch the final season of Big Love and see how successfully this ridiculously complex show manages to pull everything together in a scant ten episodes. Though I won’t review the first four seasons, the fact that this is the final season will give me plenty of room to talk about and evaluate the show as a whole as I go through these episodes. Now that we have that out of the way, let’s talk about “Winter.”

Big Love must have been one of the most difficult shows on TV to write. The show has an enormous cast of memorable characters, who pretty much pop in and out of the story at random. Individual episodes, or even some seasons, have little in the way of narrative shape: things just kind of happen, and then the episodes are over. The action can take place in many different places: one of Bill’s businesses, back at the Henrickson home, and over at the Juniper Creek compound and the show has never been very comfortable at figuring out how to balance these three. Massive amounts of plot are stuffed into every episode, as if the writers had more ideas than they could properly contain in 53 episodes, but the show’s never really had the sense that it’s moving with much purpose. This isn’t so much criticism as it is a summing up: much of this seems to be by design, and when the show is done well, nearly all these things work in its favor. However, in hind sight, it’s no real surprise that it couldn’t pull off this balancing act forever. But after three seasons of enormously entertaining television, Big Love pretty much imploded over the course of 9 episodes in its fourth season. At least 70 percent of the story really didn’t work at all, as the show introduced an incredible number of characters and plotlines that were either dull or ridiculous to the point of campiness. Worst of all most of these storylines never really went anywhere over the course of the season, and most abruptly canceled themselves out in the disastrous finale.

Which leaves “Winter” with an enormously tough job on its hands. The episode has to pretty much singlehandedly convince viewers that this is still a show with enough life in it to go out gracefully after one of the most disappointing seasons of television ever made, in face of budget and casting cuts that HBO is forcing on the show. And while “Winter” is by no means the best episode of Big Love ever produced, it may be the most successful, given the level of difficulty.

Not that you would guess it from the opening scene. The episode opens with a sequence which wouldn’t have been out of place last season: Barb (Jeane Tripplehorn) wanders the desert in a Charlie Chaplin outfit, and arrives at a campground, where Bill (Bill Paxton) is singing to the children. After he finishes he rather bizarrely makes Nikki (Chloe Sevigny) perform card tricks for them, a heretofore unseen talent. This scene almost serves as a contrast to the rest of the episode, like a taste of the nonsense of Season Four before the show settles down into something much more meaningful and focused. The following scenes are astonishingly slow placed and quiet, as it shows how each of the wives are handling their recent outing as polygamists in the wake of Bill’s election. Barb is cold and reserved, holding back her true feelings from Bill; Margene (Ginnifer Goodwin) is miserable, as she has lost her business and all hope of a normal, independent life; and Nikki is obedient and compliant to Bill, but annoyed at the other wives’ “selfish” complaints. Bill mostly seems shaken: he seemed to think that the announcement would cause people to rethink their stance on polygamy, whereas in actuality it has simply made him one of Utah’s most hated political figures. His ego has finally been dealt an undeniable blow, and he seems to second guessing whether his actions have truly been the right ones for the first time in the series.

The best thing about this episode is how centered on the family it is: none of Bill’s businesses really play a role in the episode, and even the political business only figures in the episode so far as it affects the family directly. Juniper Creek is only seen in a few scenes, most of which are devoted to positioning Alby (Matt Smith) as the central antagonist for the season, as Roman (Harry Dean Stanton) was in the first season, which is fine with me. Really this episode belongs to the three wives, who are frequently framed together in strikingly well composed shots. They have never more clearly stood for different ideologies: Barb wants to test the boundaries of her faith, and even goes so far as to purchase (and drink) a bottle of wine. Nikki, finally disenchanted with Juniper Creek and polygamy itself, wants Bill all to herself. And Margene, more than ever, just seems to want her independence, while knowing that she has trapped herself in a position she can never escape.

This episode is astonishingly quiet and unfussy. This can sometimes make it seem aimless and slow, but it ultimately proves to be a refreshing and often haunting respite from the chaos of last season, while introducing some building blocks for the series’ endgame. Mostly it just lets us know where these characters are right now, what they’re feeling, and how they interact with one another. It’s hard to remember when the last time this show has been so relaxed and focused on letting the characters grow organically, rather than forcing them into nonsensical soap operatic situations. Probably not since Season 3’s “Come Ye Saints,” almost certainly the best episode of the series.  If Season 5 can deliver many more episodes like this, it might just succeed in making people forget that the last season ever happened.

Rating: ☆ ☆ ☆ 1/2

A Nightmare on Elm Street, parts 1 & 2

Posted in Serial Studies on May 15, 2011 by jybh

The posters for the movies in these series are seriously weird. And seem to be convinced that Freddy's a skeleton.

The first series up for discussion is the “Nightmare on Elm Street” (1984) films, which proves to be quite nearly a perfect case example of the art of the film series. Pretty much every type of film sequel imaginable is on display here: the quickie follow up that has little to do with the original, the “Aliens”-like genre shifting sequel that just might match up to the original, an escalating series of disasters that threaten to kill the series, the series finale, the high profile reboot, and a spinoff that crosses over with another series. There was also a remake of the original last year, but I won’t get to that since it’s not really a part of “Elm Street” canon, and it doesn’t seem very interesting.  Unlike most slasher flick series, which pretty much repeat the formula of the original poorly, “Nightmare on Elm Street” is constantly shifting its formula and reinventing itself, which proves to be both a good, and very bad thing.

But before we can get to all that we have to deal with the original. The film is a landmark in many ways: it re-popularized supernatural horror popular in America, it was the first slasher flick to feature a killer with real personality, and it was Wes Craven’s breakthrough into the mainstream. Also it’s really damn scary, a quality all too rare in the horror genre. However, the film is hardly impossible to improve on, and has a myriad of flaws that should not be ignored. The acting is uneven, the soundtrack is way over the top, the script is full of lame dialogue and seems to make up plot elements on the fly, and the whole thing completely falls apart in the last ten minutes.

The film has two qualities however, that more or less guarantee that any sequels will at the very least, be unusual and interesting. The first is the central hook of the film: the murderer is only able only kill people in their dreams. This means that any entries in the series will at the very least have to feature the two most compelling elements of this film: the surreal dream imagery and imaginative death sequences, and the utterly terrifying, surprisingly charming killer at the center of the film, Freddy Krueger (played by the inimitable Robert Englund). Plus there’s that glove with razorblade fingers, which is pretty much impossible to make not-scary, try as the sequels may.

This image is David Lynch worthy, high praise in my book

But first we have to talk about the plot of the film. After an astonishing opening credits sequence, which shows Freddy making that razor blade glove, Craven introduces us to Freddy with the perfect introduction to this series: Tina (Amanda Wyss) wanders through a large factory type building, filled with steam, frightened by the ominous laughter she hears around her. As she wanders through the factory, Freddy suddenly rips through a curtain and chases after her. She runs away, but as soon as she pauses to catch her breath, Freddy is suddenly there, and grabs her from behind. She wakes up, her terrified face framed in the foreground, with a crucifix in the background. Though this scene doesn’t reach the surreal heights of subsequent scenes in the film, and Freddy doesn’t say a word (though those opening credits speak for themselves), this scene pretty much encapsulates the entire series.  All the mainstays of the series are in place: the industrial setting, the rather cheesy 80’s score, much too loud and unsubtle to be effective (it’s hard to believe that the great Carl Bernstein was responsible), the brilliant use of light and shadow, and the inevitable yet surprising appearance of a man wearing a green and red striped sweater and a dirty old fedora, scarred by terrible burns (a makeup effect that looks great so long as it’s not too brightly lit). Plus that sudden grab from behind, which becomes all too familiar as the series wears on.

The next day Tina tells this story to her high school friends, straight laced Nancy (Heather Langenkamp), her rather dense jock boyfriend Glen (a fresh faced Johnny Depp, in his first film role), and her bad boy boyfriend Rod (Jsu Garcia, credited under stage name Nick Corri). It turns out that Nancy’s having similar dreams, and she and Glen volunteer to spend the night with Tina. Rod decides to crash the party, and has sex with Nancy, pretty much guaranteeing that she’ll be the first victim. Nancy, of course, refuses Glen’s advances. This series is actually pretty good as a whole at ignoring the sex = death rule of these kinds of films, but unfortunately it’s in full force here. As soon as Nancy falls asleep, she’s murdered, in the film’s most terrifying sequence. The first section takes place in Tina’s dream, in which we see Freddy chasing her down a dark alleyway, his arms impossibly long. He chases her down, and cuts off two of his fingers, grinning maniacally. He tackles her and rips off his face to reveal a laughing skull, an effect that is somehow terrifyingly artificial looking.  The rest of the murder is seen from Rod’s point of view in the real world, as the invisible Freddy slashes open Nancy’s stomach and drags her up the wall and onto the ceiling, leaving her screaming, leaving behind a trail of blood, before he finally drops her to the ground. Though the scene clearly owes a great debt to “The Exorcist” (1973), but the combination of surrealism and naturalism is still horrifying.

Here the story starts to get interesting: the police suspect Ron, since he was the only one in the room when the murder occurred, yet Nancy believes his claims of innocence, especially when she discovers that both he and Glen have been dreaming of the same man as she. She takes pills to keep herself awake at night, and when she briefly falls asleep, has terrible visions of a bloody Tina in a body bag, calling to her, and long school hallways that turn into boiler rooms. Things come to a head when she discovers that she can pull things out of her dreams, and discovers Freddy’s name, via his hat, which she grabs out of her dream. When she mentions the name to her mother, she discovers that Freddy was a child murderer who was arrested, but released on a technicality years ago. In retaliation the parents of Elm Street, including her mother, ganged up on Freddy in the boiler room where he used to take his victims, and burned him alive. However he never quite died, and lives on in the dreams of the children of Elm Street, hoping to get revenge on his murderers.

My personal favorite serial killer

The rest of the film proceeds pretty much like you’d expect it to, but Craven’s excellent direction keeps it frightening and suspenseful throughout, in spite of some spotty acting. The structure is the best thing about the film: the best horror films are those that search for the answer to an intriguing mystery, while providing plenty of scares along the way. Best of all, through its dream sequences, “Nightmare” manages to find a way to be scary without resorting to death and gore. A scant four people are killed in the course of the film, and the murder scenes are often astonishingly brief: the greatest scares come from the ominous sequences, in which the characters wander seemingly endless hallways, and the scenes in which Nancy desperately attempts to stay awake, fearing death every time she closes her eyes.

Langenkamp proves to be an effective “final girl” (shorthand for the girl who always survives at the end of a slasher flick), but can often be shrill, especially in the scenes in which she fights with her parents. Craven’s script doesn’t help much either, often making her sound more like a whiny brat than a girl fighting for her life.  Wyss and Garcia are nothing but pretty faces, and while Depp isn’t bad, he doesn’t exactly show much sign of his star potential. The worst performances by far come from John Saxon and Ronee Blakely as Nancy’s useless cop dad, and obnoxious drunk mother, respectively. Both are incredibly wooden and play the characters as utterly clueless, inexplicably antagonistic characters: the mother seems more annoyed than terrified by Nancy’s. Also, bizarrely, Nancy accuses her mother of being an alcoholic about a halfway through the film, a claim that we have seen no sign of up to this point. However, after this season she’s hardly ever seen without a bottle in hand, and the character transforms from skeptical suburban mother into an over the top drunk. Englund is fantastic however, extremely menacing, but also strangely charming in the few moments when he speaks. Rarely has an actor made such an impression with so little screen time.The adorable Heather Langenkamp

Ultimately “A Nightmare on Elm Street” is a highly enjoyable slasher film: it’s genuinely scary, has an imaginative premise that it executes well, at least up until the ending. It also has a lot more personality and genuine creativity than dreck like “Friday the 13th“(1980), or even “Halloween” (1978). You can tell this is Wes Craven’s baby, and it seems much closer to his heart than the (far superior) “Halloween” was to John Carpenter. In an industry that so frequently tends to the formulaic and derivative, “Nightmare” manages to feel astonishingly original, genuinely frightening, and even deeply personal, even almost 20 years after its release.

“A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2: Freddy’s Revenge” (1985) feels pretty personal as well, though I’m not sure I’d want to spend much time around the person involved. The auteur here appears to be one David Chaskin, a screenwriter of considerably lesser talents than Wes Craven: he only authored five other filmed screenplays, none of which I’ve ever heard of. His approach to continuing the franchise is apparently to take the original’s premise, quickly toss the whole thing out the window, and transform it into a pretty standard demon possession storyline that bizarrely doubles as a metaphor for how homosexuality is evil and must be cured. After what has to be the cheesiest opening titles ever put to film, begins with what is unfortunately its best sequence, a silly yet memorable sequence in which Freddy drives a school bus, containing only two ditzy girls, who we never see again, and Jesse (the inimitable Mark Patton), who looks like a Saturday Night Live parody of a stereotypical gay man from the moment we first see him, into the desert. Sure enough there’s some cheap looking lightning and an earthquake, which leaves the school bus teetering on a small platform over a bottomless chasm. Freddy stops the bus and edges closer and closer to Jess, threatening to send the bus teetering off the edge. Though this scene is cheesy and not particularly well executed, I have to give it some praise for seeming very much like an actual dream.

After this the film rapidly turns into an escalating series of sequences that don’t deserve to be described in terms any more articulate than “WTF LOL” moments: Jesse complains that something is trying to “get inside him”; Freddy acts like a rapist and pulls the skin off his head, revealing his brain; Jesse’s sitcom-like dad for some reason refuses to fix the air conditioning, even though the thermostat reads 95 degrees; Ron (Robert Rusler), a fellow athlete pulls down Jesse’s pants during baseball practice and informs Jesse that the coach “likes pretty boys like you”; Jesse puts on bizarre cheesy sunglasses and dances around in the most gay way possible while unpacking; a lovebird randomly explodes into flames, and the film isn’t even halfway over yet.

The film’s worst mistake is tossing away the original’s intriguing premise, only to bring Freddy into the real world to murder in a much more traditional fashion. Or at least that’s what would happen in theory. Instead the film simply elects to make no sense whatsoever; taking what ought to be dream sequences, and transposing it in the real world of the film. What made the original so effective was the distinct separation of the dream world and the real world, which made it terrifying when it’s revealed that they can affect each other: in this film there’s really no difference between the two.This seems a bit silly on film, but is the stuff of genuine nightmares

The most inexplicable sequence of all comes when Jesse awakens from a nightmare, and wanders out into the rain (now possessed by Freddy…? It’s really impossible to tell). He stumbles into what appears to be a gay leather bar, which can’t be common in small Ohio towns. He orders a beer, and is immediately caught by his creepy coach, dressed up in a pretty tame kink outfit. The film then abruptly cuts to Jesse running laps in the school gymnasium, leaving it up to the viewer’s imagination to guess what happened between these two scenes. The coach tells Jesse to hit the showers, and messes around in the equipment room for some reason. Freddy then, apparently now endowed with telekinetic powers, attacks the coach with the balls (very subtle), pulls him around to the showers and ties him to the shower heads. I swear this scene actually happens. It goes even further as Freddy strips the coach naked and whips his ass with a towel several times, before a naked Jesse stabs him with the razor glove (who knows where that came from). The film then cuts to the next day, when Jesse arrives at school to discover that the coach’s body has actually been found, tied naked to the showerheads.

This is the point where everyone in the audience probably feels pretty uncomfortable. This film is essentially claiming that homosexuality is caused in young men via rape by older men (symbolized by both Freddy and the Coach), and is a disease akin to demonic possession, which results in violent behavior. This metaphor is also pretty much the only thing in the film that remains consistent throughout, climaxing in a scene where Jesse’s ostensible love interest, Lisa (Meryl Streep look alike Kim Myers) defeats Freddy by kissing Freddy, telling Jesse to “fight it”, and saying that she loves him. This is enough to help Jesse defeat Freddy, at least until the nonsensical final scene in which Lisa and Jesse chat with Lisa’s friend on a school bus (of course), when of course Freddy’s hand suddenly pops out of Lisa’s friend’s chest and grabs Jesse’s face from behind. There’s much, much, more proof of this message throughout the film, but these two scenes really encapsulate the metaphor, which turns what could’ve been merely a laughably terrible horror film into a pretty icky and nasty little flick. Though I know this film has long been forgotten, and probably didn’t hurt the gay rights movement any, it still makes it harder to enjoy the ridiculousness of the film.

Awkward...

But credit should be given where it’s due: though much less scary than the original, this film still has some very frightening moments, particularly a memorable scene in which Freddy bursts out of Jesse’s body to murder Ron, complete with a shot of an eye peeping out through Jesse’s throat. Freddy is still a very menacing figure here, despite having nearly godlike powers, and the makeup is greatly improved from the first film. And though it has very icky sexual politics when it comes to homosexuality, the film treats its female characters pretty well: all of the victims in the film are male, and Lisa is not only the strongest character in the film, but she is actually rewarded for being sexually proactive, rather than punished. However we shouldn’t get too ahead of ourselves: the main reason for Lisa to exist as a character is still to gain Jesse’s love, and keep him on the “straight” and narrow path. Yes that was a terrible pun.

That said the acting is terrible across the board, although Patton’s performance is hilariously campy, and Englund again manages to do wonders, this time with a terrible script and only 13 minutes of screen time. The music (definitely not by Carl Bernstein) is unspeakably terrible, and the film is shot more poorly than most sitcoms of the time, leaving the imaginative special effects to carry the film visually.

Overall, “Freddy’s Revenge” should be one of the worst sequels ever made: it’s a quickie cash in on a terrific film, it has no involvement from anyone who worked on the original (other than Englund), and completely disregards the plot and rules of the first film, and contains an icky and horribly dated social message to boot. However it still has more genuinely creepy sequences than it has any right to, has at least one unforgettable (in a good way) setpiece, and features some very cool effects work. It is also, sadly, nowhere near the worst film in a still (relatively) good horror series.

A Nightmare on Elm Street: ☆ ☆ ☆

A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2: Freddy’s Revenge: ☆ 1/2

Welcome to Serial Studies!

Posted in Serial Studies on May 15, 2011 by jybh

The Original Film Serial

Welcome to Serial Studies! This feature is devoted to taking a look at different film series, how film series progresses over time, and when and why they go wrong. Though there are many excellent and lengthy book series, film series have a bad reputation, generally because, at least until recently, they tended to be cheap, impersonal follow ups churned out to capitalize on the success of the original. There also aren’t that many long running film series: most of them consist of pretty one note, repetitive, increasingly terrible slasher flicks, a genre we’ll visit a few times in this feature. However, film series are starting to get a better reputation, and with Hollywood churning out all kinds of high profile sequels every summer, it’s a good time to examine film series and examine how they function.

Series of films are fascinating to look at, since they tend to be evaluated differently from ordinary films: rather than comparing them to other films in the genre, you tend to start comparing them to the other films in the series, and they tend to either succeed or fail by how they measure up to the original. The highest praise that can be given to a sequel can possibly achieve is not necessarily a great film in its own right, but that it equals or surpasses the original. Indeed, making a successful sequel is possibly more difficult and challenging than making a masterpiece: at least one great film is produced nearly every year, but the number of sequels that match up to the original can probably be counted on a person’s fingers. In any case, little time tends be spent evaluating unsuccessful sequels to films, much to my distress; in even the most tiresome retreads the way in which sequels add and reinvent the characters and mythology, even if they do so inadvertently, is fascinating to me. This feature hopes to correct this error, and perhaps even discover some hidden gems along the way. Check out my review of the first two Nightmare on Elm Street films later tonight!

Tentative Blogging Schedule

Posted in Uncategorized on May 13, 2011 by jybh

So I’ve decided to put together a tentative schedule, so this blog can have some regularity. I’m aiming to write at least one blog post per day: hopefully that’ll work out and I can move up to more as I get faster. The schedule for now is:

Sunday: Classic TV: Big Love

Monday: Classic TV: The Wire

Tuesday: Current TV: True Blood (starting June 26), The Vampire Diaries

Wednesday: I Was Going to Watch That…

Thursday: Current TV: Glee, How I Met Your Mother (starting May 30)

Friday: Movie of the Week

Saturday: Serial Studies

A little explanation about the categories:

Movie of the Week: About a 2000 word review of a movie, generally still playing in theaters. Features will generally be 2000 words, Normal reviews about 1000, though I might cut this down.

I Was Going to Watch That…: A review of an important movie that I should have seen by now, but never got around to. Starting with Schindler’s List on Wednesday.

Serial Studies: A critical examination of a movie series, and how the individual movies in the series relate to each other. Usually will review entries in a series in pairs, but it depends on how long the series is and how much there is to talk about. I’m starting with the “Nightmare on Elm Street” series, which I’ll be talking about for the next four weeks.

Movie Marathons: Occasional feature, blogging about a marathon movie session (three movies or more); will be a mix of reviewing and personal blogging.

Favorite Directors: Will probably become weekly eventually, critical analysis of the body of work of some of my favorite directors, in multiple installments. More critical analysis than biographical information. Will most likely begin with David Lynch.

I might also just write up miscellaneous reviews of movies I’ve seen recently, just for fun.

Current TV: In the case of all currently airing series, I’ll be putting up reviews as they air, except for The Vampire Diaries, How I Met Your Mother, and maybe Skins. I’ll be catching up on the second season of The Vampire Diaries, starting with general thoughts on the first season on Tuesday, and then reviewing two or three episodes a week until I finish the second season. When season three starts I’ll review as they are, and probably move the reviews to Saturdays. I might try to write up the first 5 series of Skins at some point, but if not I’ll at least review Series 6 next January. Mad Men and The Walking Dead reviews won’t start up AMC begins airing new episodes, and the same goes for True Blood. I’ll put up a review of the Community Season 2 finale sometime this week and then pick back up when the next season begins. I’ll be doing a double review of “Prom Queen” and “Funeral” for Glee on Thursday, and review the season finale the week after that. I’ll be catching up with How I Met Your Mother, starting with Season 5, after Glee ends: the first week will be general thoughts, and then two or three episodes a week until I’m caught up, at which point I’ll start reviewing the series as it airs.

Classic TV:

I’ll be talking about The Wire on Mondays: I might just write general thoughts about the show and Season 1 this week, about Season 2 next week, and then start reviewing Season 3 and onwards an episode at a time after that until I finish. I’ll be reviewing the final season of Big Love starting Sunday, one episode at a time, and I’ll just write general thoughts about Veronica Mars as far as I’ve seen it this week, and then start reviewing it two episodes at a time after that, beginning with Season 2, episode 16 “The Rapes of Graff”. That’s a completely arbitrary starting point, it’s just where I am in the series at the moment.

I might have to scale some of this back some, or shift things around, but that’s the plan for now. Hope you enjoy!

Thor

Posted in Movie of the Week on May 13, 2011 by jybh

The absolutely bizarre Thor posterI have a confession to make, which could easily put my reputation as a snob to rest here and now: I love superhero movies. Each summer I eagerly anticipate all but the most dire upcoming comic book films, and I read the news updates about each one eagerly. But as I do so, a thought often pops into my head: what if the film I’ve spent all this time reading about isn’t worth the anticipation? What if it comes out and it’s no good? What it’s so badly reviewed I decide it’s not even worth the money and energy it takes to see it? I had some of my greatest doubts about “Thor”. I can’t say that I’ve ever known much about Thor as a Marvel character; I didn’t even realize that he traditionally has an alter ego (an element excised from the film version) until looking him up after the movie, but the concept of using a Norse god as a superhero always kind of rubbed me the wrong way, and it seemed like it would be difficult to reconcile a Norse god with characters like Tony Stark and Bruce Banner.

The cast and crew announcements didn’t exactly reassure me either: neither Chris Hemsworth or Tom Hiddleston (in the roles of Thor and Loki, respectively) had really done much prior to Thor, so they were essentially wild cards. I’ve hardly liked Natalie Portman in anything other than “Black Swan” (2010), and Anthony Hopkins was a stupidly obvious casting choice for Odin, to the point that I could imagine his performance before the film was even released. But the most troubling news was the choice of Kenneth Branagh for director. I’ve remained unimpressed by even Branagh’s most acclaimed films, particularly his “Hamlet” (1996), which I found incredibly bloated and self-indulgent.  Even if he had once been a great director, Branagh has been on a terrible downhill slide for at least the last ten years.  I doubt most people realize that his last two films, a version of “As You Like It” (2006) that didn’t even make it to theaters, and a remake of the Michael Caine film “Sleuth” (2007) even exist. Branagh’s presence suggested that Thor might not just be a sub-par superhero movie, but a flop of “Daredevil”-like proportions.

So, given these misgivings, I’m pleased to report that Thor is a crackerjack superhero film, certainly among the top ten best superhero movies ever made, and easily the breeziest and most purely entertaining comic book film this side of “Iron Man” and “Hellboy II” (both from 2008). Best of all it is something of a break in the formula for superhero movies, as it has a very unusual story structure and tells a story that is certainly a beginning of sorts, but not exactly an origin. “Thor” proves that even among the glut of superhero and comic book films that have cropped up in recent years, it is still possible for one to be surprising, exciting, and (almost) original.

The film opens with an arresting sequence in which Natalie Portman’s scientist character Jane Foster, and her sidekicks, seasoned pro Dr. Eric Lewis (Stellan Skarsgard), and intern Darcy (Kat Dennings) are chasing storms looking for… something. I’m actually realizing now that the film never really explains what’s driven Jane to do this, but ah well. Anyway they find it, as Jane drives straight towards an electrical disturbance; in the midst of the confusion a man flies out of nowhere and hits their truck. The storm abruptly stops and they walk out into the midst of the clearing, leaving Jane to ask “Where did he come from?” while looking towards the sky. This could easily be the beginning of an alien invasion movie, and gives the audience a clue as to how the film will handle the Asgardian gods. The film then launches into an extremely lengthy prologue, detailing the history of the Asgardians, here portrayed as superpowered beings from one of the nine dimensions of the universe, Midgard, or our universe, and Jotunheim, the land of the Frost Giants, being the other two that figure in the storyline of the film. At some point in the past the Frost Giants attempted to conquer the other Realms, but were quickly stopped in their tracks by Odin (played by Anthony Hopkins, because of course he is), who defeated them and stole “the Casket of Ancient Winters” from the Giants, the source of their power.

The film then flashes forward to the present day, when Thor is about to be crowned as Odin’s successor over his brother Loki. However, a Frost Giant invasion interrupts the ceremony, as three of the giants break into Odin’s palace and attempt to steal the Casket, only to be quickly zapped by Odin’s giant robot thing, The Destroyer. How this film manages to get away with a super powerful giant robot that looks like a CGI version of a Power Rangers villain without completely devolving into camp is beyond me, but it somehow manages it. Thor is obviously enraged, and decides to immediately invade Jotunheim, along with his companions Sif (Jaimie Alexander), Volstagg (Ray Stevnson), Hogun (Tadanobu Asano), and Fandral (Joshua Dallas), and Loki. Honestly, I had to look up these characters’ names, as they are completely goofy and useless: only the Xena-like Sif (she’s even explicitly compared to Xena in the film), who has a very subtly hinted at crush on Thor, registers at all as a character.

It is here that Thor’s greatest weakness becomes apparent: its action scenes just aren’t that great. The battle against the Frost Giants is sub Lord of the Rings stuff, and like many modern action scenes, the editing is so hectic that it can be difficult to tell what’s going on. Branagh just doesn’t have a great eye for this stuff, and watching a hammer fly around hitting CGI giants gets old pretty quickly. The other action scenes are much better than this, but they don’t even come close to the best action set pieces from the “Iron Man” films. Obviously Thor gets in over his head and Odin discovers what he’s up to and rescues the merry band at the last minute. Finally the central action of the film occurs, as Odin strips Thor of his hammer and exiles him to Midgard, while also throwing away his hammer, bestowing it upon “whosoever is worthy of the power of Thor” (to paraphrase).

This business eats up about a half hour of screentime, at least fifteen minutes longer than it should, as the film hasn’t even really begun yet. This prologue would have worked better if it was more sketched out, and not related in such great detail. Luckily the next hour of the film fires on all cylinders: Portman’s scientist takes Thor to the hospital, not yet realizing his connection to the storm, and Loki confronts Odin about his heritage. Meanwhile SHIELD, the mysterious Samuel L. Jackson-led organization from the Iron Man films has discovered and co-opted Thor’s hammer for unknown purposes.

Unfortunately I can’t summarize the plot much further without getting into spoiler territory, but the film’s middle section is certainly its best, and this is because it’s centered on the film’s strong suit: the performances. Marvel has been careful to cast very good actors at the center of their recent series of superhero films, and “Thor” is no exception. Hemsworth oozes charisma making Thor a likeably arrogant hero, and he comes off as strange, but never stupid in the scenes on Earth. Portman likewise conducts herself well, and her performance has a flirtatious ease and grace to it that I’ve never seen her pull off before. She always comes off as an actress trying too hard, which results in oddly forced and stilted performances (a quality that actually worked in her favor in Black Swan). Here she is completely at ease, and hardly even seems to be acting. This is possibly because she has so little to do, other than be adorable and science-y, but her relaxed chemistry with Hemsworth turns what could have been a very forced romance into a surprisingly moving relationship. You find yourself rooting for these two to get together without the film ever having to push it too much.

The rest of the cast acquits themselves well: Skarsgard is instantly likeable, as usual, and his down to earth character helps root the film in some sort of reality, Dennings is amusing but woefully underused, and Tom Hiddleston is a revelation. This film’s greatest asset is Loki, who easily makes the short list of the best villains in these sorts of films. Hiddleston plays Loki as completely vulnerable and subject to act rashly on his emotions, yet never lets this diminish the threatening and dangerous aspect of Loki’s character. This is all the more impressive because Hiddleston isn’t exactly an intimidating figure: he looks scrawny and barely noticeable next to Hemsworth. But Hiddleston is the kind of actor that can be intense without saying a word and that can make a whisper far more intimidating than a scream. He’s at his scariest when simply talking and Hiddleston makes Loki a far more complex and layered character than he has any right to be, at least on a script level. Hopkins is the only odd one out, delivering a rather robotic version of the same performance he’s been giving for at least the last decade: he seems to have just given up on nuance and essentially become the high profile British version of those actors playing the patriarch characters on soap operas.

On a script level Thor is actually pretty problematic, and it’s clear the studio struggled to figure out how to convey all this: the film never quite overcomes the problem of having the action occur in two dimensions, and the structure of the film is downright bizarre: Loki doesn’t really directly impact the action on Earth which makes all the stuff in the human world strangely lacking in dramatic tension. It’s all amusing and entertaining, but the stakes are never particularly high. The film is also lacking a central action set piece: the script doesn’t even seem designed to have a standout action scene. The characterization is pretty shallow, essentially leaving the actors to fill in the blanks. However, it handles all the crossover stuff pretty gracefully: SHIELD is integrated into the story naturally and Clark Gregg’s Agent Coulson is given plenty to do without overshadowing the central storyline or reminding people of how he was in Iron Man. Best of all, Samuel L. Jacksons’ Nick Fury doesn’t appear outside of the post-credits tag, though Jeremy Renner’s Hawkeye is introduced rather bizarrely in a sequence too brief to really hurt the film.

Surprisingly, Branagh’s direction really pulls the film together, given his track record of being a self-indulgent and often inert director. However he manages to pace the film perfectly, keeping it moving along nicely even when it completely lacks any sense of urgency. This is actually an asset in a way: Branagh lets the film breathe and gives the actors plenty of room to show what they can do. The film never feels busy or frantic in the way “Iron Man 2” did and the pacing is refreshingly relaxed. In fact, the actors make the characters so compelling that I found myself wanting more character development, particularly from the human characters: this is the rare modern action film that might be able to use an extra half hour, even at a none-too-brief 114 minutes. Branagh is still far too reliant on needless canted angles and edits frantically during the action scenes, but this is easily forgiven by the performances he gets out of his actors, and the excellent pacing he brings to the film. Finally the film concludes on a note that is exceedingly rare in action films, with a wonderfully ambiguous and elegant final scene that I wasn’t expecting at all. In spite of the myriad elements that could have sunk this production, “Thor” proves triumphant, and is already guaranteed to be a highlight of the barely begun summer season.

Stars: ☆☆☆

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