Knight and Day

Knight and Day - Dir. James Mangold (2010)


I’ve made it known that I am able to set aside an actor’s or filmmaker’s personal life in order to enjoy their work. Despite his general craziness in real life, I’ve enjoyed a lot of Tom Cruise’s output over the last few years such as the Mission: Impossible franchise and Minority Report, one of the best films of the past decade. And who can forget his profanity-laced performance in Tropic Thunder? Cruise is an actor who enjoys working in big-budget, Hollywood pictures. However, you can’t help but feel that his couch jumping antics have dulled his star power.

Cruise attempts to play up his action hero persona in Knight and Day alongside his Vanilla Sky co-star, Cameron Diaz. Diaz is June Havens who runs an auto body shop in Boston and is flying out of Wichita after picking up some parts. She bumps into Roy Miller (Cruise) at the airport and winds up on a plane full of assassins. Miller dispatches the passengers, crew, and even the pilots before landing the plane in a cornfield.

As with all spy movies, there’s a MacGuffin at the center of it all. In this case, it is a perpetual energy battery (AA-sized) code-named the Zephyr. Miller claims to be a CIA agent who was double-crossed by his partner Fitzgerald (Peter Sarsgaard) who hopes to sell the battery to a Spanish arms dealer (Jordi Molla). The CIA claim Miller has gone completely off his rocker and cannot discern from reality and delusion. Shanghaied on a globe-trotting adventure, June finds herself falling for Miller while questioning the truth about him.

Knight and Day certainly had potential to be something different. I didn’t expect Cruise to poke fun of his personal life, but he doesn’t attempt to ridicule his on-screen persona either. He simply coasts by on the same jittery charm he’s always had. The film doesn’t attempt to lampoon the familiar tropes of the spy thriller. Instead, it simply revels in them, employing cliché after cliché.

The latest entry in this year’s rash of action/romantic comedy hybrids, Knight and Day kicks off with the rom-com staple of the meet cute before bouncing back and forth from genres. Compared to similar movies like The Bounty Hunter and Killers, Knight and Day does action bigger and better. Credit goes to director James Mangold whose diverse filmography includes Kate & Leopold, Walk the Line, and 3:10 To Yuma. Mangold keeps the film from really dragging even if the action sequences come off as lightweight Jason Bourne. Once the action subsides, we’re left with comedy and drama that fall flat. The banter feels contrived and the plot lacks any element of mystery. As if Tom Cruise could be anything other than the hero.

Cruise’s character may be defined, but they can’t seem to make up their mind about Diaz. One moment she’s a spastic mess shrieking in fear, the next she goes into John Woo mode while straddling Cruise as they rip down the streets of Barcelona on a motorcycle.

Though first-timer Patrick O’Neill is the only credited writer, the script was passed through the hands of nearly a dozen other writers, including Mangold himself. Knight and Day is the kind of utterly conventional picture that comes from filmmaking by committee. Dull, toothless, and forgettable.

Rating: *

Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time

Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time - Dir. Mike Newell (2010)


A cinematic rule of thumb: video game movies suck. You know you’re in trouble when Mortal Kombat is essentially the Citizen Kane of video game adaptations. It is with great trepidation that I approached the Prince of Persia, based off the video game series created by Jordan Mechner. It is also one of two Jerry Bruckheimer produced spectacles this summer along with The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. Prince of Persia is set in a fantasy version of Persia where no one is actually Persian and everyone speaks with a British accent.

The film opens with an Aladdin-esque prologue featuring a young boy named Dastan defending another child in the open marketplace. Impressed by his courage, King Sharaman (Ronald Pickup) adopts him. The now adult Prince Dastan (Jake Gyllenhaal) is leads an army to attack the city of Alamut. The King’s brother, Nizam (Ben Kingsley), has evidence that Alamut is building weapons for Persia’s enemies. However, Nizam is secretly after a mystical dagger which can turn back time for just a few seconds. Beneath the city lies an hourglass full of the Sands of Time, plunging the dagger into it will allow Nizam to rewrite history as he sees fit. Framed for the murder of his father, Dastan and the beautiful Princess Tamina (Gemma Arterton) must uncover Nizam’s plot while being hunted by his own brothers and a cadre of assassins.

As you’d expect from a Bruckheimer production, Prince of Persia is packed with overblown action sequences and expensive special effects. The climax feels like a genuine sandstorm that threatens to blind your eyes and engulf your body in a torrent of CGI. The movie is surprisingly light on Parkour stunts considering acrobatics were a big part of the games. Most of the acting is bland with the leads engaging in forced dialogue that passes for witty banter. Only Alfred Molina gives a sly and amusing performance as the earliest member of the Tea Party. He’s a promoter of ostrich races who bemoans the plight of the small businessman and adamantly refuses to pay taxes.

Prince of Persia is lightweight and forgettable popcorn entertainment. It fails to be a 21st century version of Indiana Jones, coming off more as a knockoff of Stephen Sommers’ Mummy pictures. As a video game movie, it’s still better than Super Mario Bros. and, at least, it wasn’t directed by Uwe Boll.

Rating: **

Jonah Hex

Jonah Hex - Dir. Jimmy Hayward (2010)


Comic book movies are now a staple of the summer blockbuster season. This modern age of the comic book film can be traced back to an unlikely source in Blade. For decades, Marvel had attempted to turn their characters into successful feature films. Yet, all they had to show for it are a pair of awful direct-to-video movies based on Captain America and the Punisher and a Roger Corman-directed Fantastic Four that was never even released. With top properties like Spider-Man and the X-Men languishing in development hell, it was an unknown vampire slayer that broke through for Marvel and set the stage for Iron Man and others.

In recent years, Marvel’s main competitor, DC Comics, has had massive success with its rebooted Batman franchise. However, Superman Returns was a failure and they’ve struggled to get other A-list characters like Wonder Woman and the Flash off the ground while Green Lantern finally hits screens next year. It only makes sense for DC to exploit its lesser known characters or creator-owned properties to fill the void. And along rides Jonah Hex.

Hex was created by John Albano and Tony DeZuniga and first appeared in 1971 in All-Star Western #10. Set in the Old West, Hex was a bounty hunter with half his face hideously scarred. He was sold into slavery to the Apache as a child and fought for the Confederacy in adulthood. Later, he was revamped with a supernatural bent as part of DC’s Vertigo imprint. The movie version combines a little bit of both, but is a very loose adaptation of the character.

Josh Brolin stars as Jonah Hex; a Civil War veteran who surrendered to the Union inadvertantly resulting in the death of his best friend Jeb Turnbull (an uncredited Jeffrey Dean Morgan). In revenge, Jeb’s father, Quentin Turnbull (John Malkovich) forces Hex to watch helplessly while his wife and son are murdered. Left for dead with his face branded, Hex is saved by Indians and the ordeal leaves him the power to temporarily speak with the dead.

Since then, the disfigured anti-hero has made his mark as a renowned bounty hunter and gunfighter of exceptional skill. Meanwhile, Turnbull has become a terrorist striking out against the American government. He steals a massive supergun, dubbed the ‘Nation Killer,’ in order to destroy Washington during the country’s centennial celebration.

Jonah Hex endured a problematic journey into the theaters. The script was originally written by Neveldine & Taylor, the team behind the Crank films and Gamer, who were also attached to direct. Brolin signed onto the project supposedly because he loved its atrociousness. The pair left the project and was eventually replaced by the oddball choice of Jimmy Hayward whose only previous experience was the animated Horton Hears a Who. The project saw last minute reshoots under the supervision of Francis Lawrence (Constantine, I Am Legend) and a massive retooling of the plot.

What’s left is a complete mess that is barely 80 minutes long, not counting the credits. Jonah Hex is like two fractured films hastily duct taped together. There is a strange battle on a metaphysical plain between Hex and Turnbull that was once set to be the climax of the movie. Instead, it’s clumsily and confusingly intercut with two major sequences of the final product. The mystical elements are excised and in their place we find ludicrous weaponry like saddle-mounted Gatling guns, dynamite launching crossbows, and a monstrous cannon powered by glowing orange orbs invented by Eli Whitney, the creator of the cotton gin. No, really.

Some of the cast seem to realize what a colossal turd they’re in and play along. Brolin tries to rise above it all as the gravelly voiced Hex while Michael Fassbender goes over-the-top as a knife-wielding Irish henchman. Megan Fox also appears as a tough hooker with a lilting Southern accent and an impossibly thin hourglass waist. She seriously looks like she’ll snap in half at any second. For some reason, Fox almost always appears in close-ups with soft lighting no matter what the situation. Will Arnett is woefully miscast as a straight-laced Union officer while Michael Shannon pops in for one and only one scene as the ringleader of an underground fight club. Both actors are victims of the reshoots and slapdash editing.

Jonah Hex never purports to be anything more than a low-grade B-movie. Some might be able to enjoy it on a ‘so bad, it’s good’ level, but not me. Jonah Hex makes no attempt to remain faithful to the source material. It’s a shame really as the character had the potential to star in a Leone-style Spaghetti Western. The movie isn’t so much A Fistful of Dollars as it is Wild Wild West. In the pantheon of DC adaptations, it ranks at the bottom of the pile alongside Catwoman and Steel.

Rating: * ½

Toy Story 3

Toy Story 3 - Dir. Lee Unkrich (2010)


Pixar set a new gold standard in animation with their first feature-length film, Toy Story. Since then, they’ve established a track record like no other. They’ve made ten films and not a single one of them is a stinker. Even Cars, the most mediocre of Pixar’s oeuvre, is stronger than everyone else’s best. Now, Pixar releases their 11th film in Toy Story 3 and the bar has been set even higher than before. Despite the critical acclaim and box office success of all their pictures, Toy Story has been the only film that Pixar has spun off into a franchise. A Cars sequel is planned for next year, likely because it became a merchandising cash cow.

It’s been 15 years since the original Toy Story hit theaters with the even better sequel following four years later. Both films dealt with the toys worrying about abandonment by their owner Andy (John Morris). With Toy Story 3 that day seems to have finally come. Andy is now 18, too old to play with toys, and heading off to college.

Our gang of toys has grown smaller and small over the years. Woody (Tom Hanks) and Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen) are still around along with Jessie (Joan Cusack), Bullseye, Mr. & Mrs. Potato Head (Don Rickles & Estelle Harris), Rex (Wallace Shawn), Hamm (John Ratzenberger), and Slinky Dog (Blake Clark taking over for the late-Jim Varney). The other toys, such as Wheezy and Bo Peep, have sadly been broken, lost, or given away. The survivors have only an uncertain future to look forward to. Andy decides he’ll take Woody with him to college, but the others are headed for storage in the attic.

After a series of unfortunate incidents, the toys go from the trash heap to the Sunnyside Day Care Center. There, Andy’s toys are greeted by another group of toys led by the folksy Lots-O-Huggin’ Bear (Ned Beatty). He tells the new arrivals that they’ll never have to worry about being abandoned or outgrown. The center sees a constant stream of children coming in and out. All seems well except for Woody who wishes to return to Andy. He heads off and eventually winds up in the hands of Bonnie (Emily Hahn), a cute little tyke whose toys treat playtime like improv theater. Meanwhile, Buzz and the gang find Sunnyside isn’t so sunny when they’re left to fend for themselves against a classroom full of hyperactive toddlers.

It should go without saying that Pixar seems incapable of making a bad film. So it should come as no surprise that Toy Story 3 is another winner. The real question is: Does it live up to the lofty Pixar standards? The answer is a resounding yes.

John Lasseter, the head honcho of Pixar, directed the first Toy Story and co-directed the second with Lee Unkrich, who also co-directed Monsters, Inc. and Finding Nemo. This is Unkrich’s first solo effort and he works off a script by Michael Arndt who earned an Oscar for Little Miss Sunshine. These guys are master manipulators. They know all the right notes to hit to tug at your heart strings.

The work done here is incredible. Pixar has a real knack for characters. The toys aren’t just chunks of plastic, but fully formed and realistic characters. We’ve become completely invested in their journey and it’s a heartbreaker to hear we’ve lost a few along the way.

That journey brings us full circle with a wonderful opening sequence that calls back to the original film. It’s an action-packed prologue with runaway trains, exploding bridges, dinosaurs, monkeys, and a pig-shaped spaceship. It’s a set piece that rivals the Buzz Lightyear opening of the second film. The ending (which I won’t spoil) is a wonderfully touching resolution that caps off the trilogy at just the right note.

Technology has improved by leaps and bounds since we first met Woody and Buzz. As such, the animation in Toy Story 3 blows the other films out of the water. The third film is far more epic in scope, dealing with heady issues of toy existentialism. It doesn’t go into Jean-Paul Sartre territory (this is a kids’ movie), yet it does touch a tiny bit on the mortality of these toys. TS3 is also a little more mature with some dark moments, including a rather creepy baby doll with a wonky eye and an edge-of-your-seat trip to the landfill.

Toy Story 3 isn’t without its light moments. There are plenty of hilarious gags, most of which involve Michael Keaton who voices a metrosexual Ken doll (”I’m not a girls’ toy! I’m not!”). Have I mentioned Mr. Tortilla Head or Spanish Buzz? Pixar has also thrown in a few pop culture references on the sly, including a funny Return of the Jedi joke to go along with the Empire Strikes Back gag from the second picture. Also watch out for a quick cameo from the sadistic Sid as a garbageman.

Creating a sequel is a tricky proposition. Attempting a third film is an increasingly difficult task. It’s difficult to think of a great number three, aside from Indiana Jones & the Last Crusade and The Prisoner of Azkaban. I can think of plenty of bad number threes like Superman 3, Spider-Man 3, and Shrek the Third. Thankfully, Toy Story 3 is not among those poorly conceived productions. It doesn’t necessarily feel like a story that needed to be told, but it was told and told with amazing skill. Pixar will run you through an emotional gauntlet full of adventure, thrills, laughs, fears, and tears. Toy Story 3 will assuredly find its way onto numerous year-end lists.

P.S. – The short which played before the film, Night & Day, is definitely one of the best and most clever ones Pixar has produced. Also, the 3D effects are so subtle that I’d recommend you save the extra bucks and see it in 2D.

Rating: ****

The A-Team

The A-Team - Dir. Joe Carnahan (2010)


”…if you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them…maybe you can hire…THE A-TEAM!”

The record for adapting old TV shows into successful feature films has been less than stellar. The Fugitive is the only true standout. Several rungs down the ladder are middling efforts like Starsky and Hutch and Miami Vice. Dwelling in the basement are truly terrible movies such as Land of the Lost, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Dukes of Hazzard. Joining the ranks of big-budget Hollywood remakes is The A-Team which finds itself somewhere in the middle. It’s certainly not high-brow cinema, but it is pure popcorn entertainment. The A-Team manages to capture the campy overtones and ludicrous elements of the original series. In return, the movie version asks nothing more from its audience than to turn off their brains and not over think a non-stop barrage of nonsensical action sequences.

A movie version of The A-Team has been in development for well over a decade. It’s taken so long that the team was originally changed from Vietnam vets to veterans of the Gulf War. Later, they were stationed in the Middle East just before the Iraq invasion. Now, they’re station in Iraq at the time of the troop withdrawal. All the players remain relatively the same.

Liam Neeson fills the very big shoes of the late-George Peppard as the cigar chomping team leader, Col. Hannibal Smith. Bradley Cooper is Lt. Templeton “Faceman” Peck and District 9’s Sharlto Copley is their crazy pilot, Capt. H.M. “Howling Mad” Murdock. Finally, we have MMA fighter Quinton “Rampage” Jackson as the Mohawk-wearing bruiser, B.A. Baracus.

The film opens with a messy prologue showing how the A-Team was assembled. While working to take down a corrupt Mexican general, Face is captured in the enemy camp. Running through the desert to his rescue, Hannibal just happens to come across B.A. driving his trademark black van. B.A. is stuck south of the border, forced to steal cars as a ransom for his van being held hostage. It doesn’t really make sense since B.A. just beats all the guys up and takes his van anyway. But, logic is a foreign concept in this film. Face is saved and the trio rendezvous at a military hospital where they pick up the nutty Murdock.

Fast-forward eight years and we pick up at the troop withdrawal. The A-Team is approached by a CIA agent named Lynch (Patrick Wilson) requests their help in stealing back printing plates that could be used to counterfeit U.S. currency. Predictably, our heroes are double-crossed by a private security force led by Pike (Brian Bloom, also one of the credited screenwriters). The plates are blown up along with their commanding officer, Gen. Morrison (Gerald McRaney). Now, the team must break out of separate federal prisons and clear their names with Face’s former flame, Capt. Sosa (Jessica Biel), hot on their heels.

Neeson brings more than a sly smile to the picture; he lends a sense of credibility which is sorely needed. Only Neeson can make you buy into a discussion he has about Gandhi with a fellow that has “PITY” and “FOOL” tattooed on his knuckles. The same goes for Cooper and Copley, the latter of whom is hilarious and far more manic than the original Murdock. Jackson feels dispensable as Baracus, No one can replace Mr. T, but Jackson brings nothing unique to the table.

Hannibal’s famous catchphrase has always been, “I love it when a plan comes together.” He coins a new one in the film, ”Overkill is underrated,” and overkill is a specialty of Joe Carnahan, who previously directed Narc and Smokin’ Aces. He’s like Tarantino with A.D.D., but without the encyclopedic knowledge of cinema. Strike that. Carnahan is a knockoff of a Tarantino knockoff (ahem…Guy Ritchie). He furiously whips us about from one over-the-top action scene to another. We watch as the A-Team play the world’s biggest shell game with cargo containers and attempt to steer a tank as it plummets through the air.

The A-Team is the dictionary definition of the Hollywood summer blockbuster. It’s loud, dumb, and goofy fun for the undemanding moviegoer.

P.S. – Make sure to stick around until the credits end for a pair of quick cameos.

Rating: ***

Hot Tub Time Machine

Hot Tub Time Machine - Dir. Steve Pink (2010)


Not since Snakes on a Plane has there been such a high-concept premise for a film than Hot Tub Time Machine. It’s this year’s The Hangover, a comedy with low-brow laughs about overgrown man-children and male bonding.

The quartet of protagonists in Hot Tub Time Machine are Adam (John Cusack), the most successful of the bunch who has just been dumped by his girlfriend; Jacob (Clark Duke), Adam’s nerdy nephew who lives in his uncle’s basement playing internet video games; Nick (Craig Robinson), a former singer now working as a dog groomer; and the obnoxious Lou (Rob Corddry). Lou may be an asshole, but he’s their asshole.

After a drunken night of debauchery, Lou parks his car in the garage and rocks out to Motley Crue. He doesn’t notice the garage door has shut and is hospitalized with carbon monoxide poisoning. Lou’s pals believe he tried to commit suicide and decide to cheer him up. The gang goes on a trip to the Kodiak Valley Ski Resort where they partied as teenagers. However, the poor economy has struck and the popular hotspot has become a dilapidated mess of abandoned shop fronts. That doesn’t stop the boys from getting totally and utterly shitfaced in their hot tub. One dizzying montage later, they find themselves back in their younger bodies in 1986.

At first, they attempt to do everything exactly the way it happened so as not to disrupt the timestream. It’s Lou who decides to do all the things you aren’t supposed to do in a time travel movie. He wants to use his knowledge of the future to make himself rich while righting a few old wrongs, including a beating at the hands of a douchebag ski patrolman with the classic 80’s villain name of Blaine (Sebastian Stan). The others begin questioning their paths. Adam is conflicted between the girl (Lyndsy Fonseca) he regrets breaking up with and a free-spirited journalist (Lizzy Caplan) he bumps into.

Steve Pink, the co-writer of two other Cusack films, Grosse Pointe Blank and High Fidelity, directs from a script by Josh Heald, Sean Anders, and John Morris. The latter two also penned She’s Out of My League and you can see their stamp on every scatological joke. They also make several nods to Back to the Future such as making time travel a secondary plotline. The real story lies with the relationships between the main characters. In another nod to those classic Michael J. Fox flicks, Jacob flickers in and out because he may or may not be conceived.

There are plenty of other 80’s references to be had in Hot Tub, including cameos by icons of the decade like Chevy Chase as the mystical hot tub repairman and William Zabka (you know, ”Put ‘em in a bodybag, Johnny” from Karate Kid). But, the best is reserved for Crispin Glover who is absolutely hilarious as a surly, one-armed bellhop. The running gag is you keep waiting for the moment when he lost that other arm. Not to be outshined is Craig Robinson whose mastery of the deadpan one-liners has made him one of today’s funniest character actors.

Sadly, most of the jokes are the easy ones about Michael Jackson’s skin color and legwarmers. You would think that putting John Cusack back in the 80’s at a ski lodge would have yielded some great meta-textual gags. Alas, nary a reference to Better Off Dead is made aside from a fleeting line about “two dollars” at the beginning.

Hot Tub Time Machine is loaded with vulgarities and sophomoric humor which will likely be a put-off to most. If you’re able to get past all that, you’ll find a raunchy, yet touching, comedy with a quartet of strong characters.

Rating: ** ½

The Slammin' Salmon

The Slammin' Salmon - Dir. Kevin Heffernan (2009)


When it comes to comedy troupes, Broken Lizard probably won’t be mentioned in the same breath as luminaries like Monty Python or the Kids in the Hall. However, they’ve garnered a loyal following thanks to the cult success of their second film, Super Troopers. Since then, Broken Lizard has produced Beerfest and the horror spoof, Club Dread. Neither film was as well received as Super Troopers. The guys are back with the restaurant-themed comedy, The Slammin’ Salmon, which hit a handful of screens at the end of 2009 before going straight to DVD.

The Slammin’ Salmon takes place one night at the trendy Miami restaurant owned by former boxing champion, Cleon Salmon (Michael Clarke Duncan). Salmon is deep in debt with the Yakuza and challenges his maitre d’ Rich Ferente (Kevin Heffernan) to come up with $20,000 before closing. Rich offers up an escalating series of prizes from a free trip to Key Largo to $10,000 for the server who comes up with the biggest take. Unfortunately, the waiter or waitress who comes up with the lowest amount gets a “broken rib sandwich” from the champ.

The wait staff includes Connor (Steve Lemme), who returns to waiting after a failed try at acting; Mia (April Bowlby), a trained ballerina who isn’t afraid to use her sex appeal; Tara (Cobie Smulders), a med student struggling to pay the bills; Guy (Erik Stolhanske), a tanned and obnoxious pretty boy; and the appropriately named Nuts (Jay Chandrasekhar), who transforms into a raging lunatic when he doesn’t take his medication. There are also the twin brothers, Dave and Donnie, both played by Paul Soter. One is the short-tempered head chef; the other is the newly hired busboy.

Many other stars make cameo appearances as the customers. You can watch out for Will Forte, Morgan Fairchild (as herself), Lance Henriksen, Jim Gaffigan, Olivia Munn, Sendhil Ramamurthy from Heroes, Carla Gallo, and Vivica A. Fox. Troupe member Jay Chandrasekhar has handled the directing duties for Broken Lizard’s previous pictures, but hands the reins over to Kevin Heffernan for his directorial debut.

The majority of the film is built around the various interactions between the staff and the patrons. Connor winds up having to wait on his former producer and co-stars. April’s beautiful looks are ruined when she accidentally gets a face full of burning hot soup. Guy is increasingly frustrated with a customer who just sits at his booth reading War and Peace.

Much of the comedy in Slammin’ Salmon falls flat on its face. At best, the gags are slightly amusing. One subplot involves Rich accidentally swallowing an expensive diamond engagement ring which allows us the requisite scatological humor. You just can’t do R-rated comedy without poop jokes. There are also at least three or four instances involving vomiting or implied vomiting.

Most of the acting is rather uneven. Cobie Smulders, who most know from CBS’s How I Met Your Mother, gives one of the better performances. Hers is the most realistic person in a sea of cartoon characters. The star of the film is most definitely Michael Clarke Duncan. The gentle giant of a man has already shown his comedic chops in Talladega Nights as Ricky Bobby’s pit crew chief. Here, Duncan gets a chance to let his improvisational skills shine. He manages to rise above the mundane material, turning Cleon Salmon into the love child of Mike Tyson and Tracy Jordan. Duncan launches into many funny non sequiturs and one-liners like, ”When you assume, you make an asshole out of yourself.”

I don’t count myself as a devotee of Broken Lizard. Though I have many friends who swear by Super Troopers, I personally didn’t get the poor man's version of Police Academy. I haven’t seen any of their other movies so I can’t judge how The Slammin’ Salmon might fit into their pantheon. Broken Lizard followers might find some enjoyment in this otherwise dreary and scattershot comedy.

Rating: *

Solomon Kane

Solomon Kane - Dir. Michael J. Bassett (2009)


Pulp writer Robert E. Howard’s most famous creation was Conan the Barbarian. Not quite as well-known is another of Howard’s characters, Solomon Kane. A Puritan living in the 16th century, the mysterious Kane vanquished evil in the name of God. He was clad in a dark cloak, wide-brimmed hat, and armed with a rapier and flintlock pistol. While Conan has received two films starring the current governor of California, Solomon Kane has yet to receive any cinematic attention. Until now, that is.

Writer/director Michael J. Bassett helms the first of a proposed trilogy of films nominally based on Howard’s stories. While Solomon Kane is supposedly an adaptation, it isn’t drawn from any specific tale. Bassett provides largely original material and sets the picture up as an origin story.

Solomon Kane (James Purefoy) is introduced as a pirate ruthlessly killing and pillaging anything in his path. Hunting for gold in North Africa, Kane is confronted by a demon that might as well be Satan’s debt collector. Told his soul has been damned by his evil ways, Kane repents and finds his way to a monastery in England in order to live a life of peace. One day, Kane is told by his brother monk to leave the temple and find his place in the world.

Traveling to his ancestral home in Devon, Kane comes across the Crowthorne family who are soon attacked by the forces of a sorcerer known as Malachi (Jason Flemyng). The family is brutally murdered and the daughter, Meredith (Rachel Hurd-Wood), is taken prisoner. Kane renounces his vow of peace and sets off to rescue Katherine and confront the past he has tried to run away from.

Working with a medium-sized budget, Bassett has crafted a slick production. However, the movie is severely hamstringed by a weak script. Bassett follows the current Hollywood predilection for reboots and origin stories. Any mystique found in the character of Solomon Kane is lost amidst a series of flashbacks to the man’s various childhood traumas. Thus, Kane has been diluted into another grizzled and generic superhero. Honestly, what’s wrong with a little mystery to the hero? Would Fistful of Dollars be improved by a 40-minute prologue revealing in excruciating detail the Man With No Name’s entire backstory?

Trivia Note: This isn’t the first time James Purefoy has worn a cloak and wide-brimmed hat. He was originally cast as the lead in V For Vendetta before departed in mid-production, being replaced by Hugo Weaving.

Rating: * ½

The Runaways

The Runaways - Dir. Floria Sigismondi (2010)


”Hello, daddy, hello, mom…I’m your ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb.”

Standard formula for the music biopic: aspiring musician struggles with impoverished homelife and/or childhood trauma, quickly rises to fame, pisses it away for sex and drugs. Wash, rinse, and repeat.

The Runaways chronicles the formation of the all-girl rock band and follows that exact same path. However, it is far from the type of polished Oscar bait fare you expect from a film like Ray or Walk the Line. It’s grimier and dirtier picture which encapsulates the music scene of the 70’s.

The film begins with its two central characters Cherie Currie (Dakota Fanning) and Joan Jett (Kristen Stewart). Cherie, in full-on Ziggy Stardust gear, lip-synchs to “Lady Grinning Soul” for her high school talent show and is met with the cat calls of her schoolmates. Jett plops down a bag full of change to purchase her first leather jacket. She receives guitar lessons from a condescending instructor who tells her, ”Girls don’t play electric guitar.”

One fateful night, Jett meets up with record producer, Kim Fowley (Michael Shannon), and pitches him the idea for a rock band, all girls, no guys. Together, they spot Currie sultrily sulking in the corner of a club and make her their lead singer. Each girl models their on-stage persona on their respective idols. Jett on Suzi Quatro, Currie on David Bowie. Rounding out the band are guitarist Lita Ford (Scout Taylor-Compton) and drummer Sandy West (Stella Maeve). In real life, the band went through several bassists, but for the film they have the fictional Robin Robbins (Alia Shawkat), a composite of original member Micki Steele (later of The Bangles) and Jackie Fox who refused to sign off on the film.

The Runaways achieve mild success in the States, but find an overwhelming response in Japan where they are mobbed by fans. It’s in Japan that Curie gives her iconic performance, strutting about the stage in nylon stockings and pink & black lingerie. As the band’s tumultuous relationship with Fowley unfolds, we see how unapologetic he is at marketing the Runaways as jailbait sex symbols. Fowley gives them barely enough money to feed themselves on the road (he never travels) and rides them like a drill instructor. Turning a double-wide trailer into a recording studio, he gets local kids to throw feces at the girls to prepare them for hecklers.

Meanwhile, Currie immerses herself into the world of sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll to escape the confines of her dead-end suburban life. She has a mom (Tatum O’Neal) who has run off to Indonesia, a perpetually drunken father (Brett Cullen), a sister (Riley Keough) stuck working at a fast-food place. Her descent into addiction threatens to tear the group apart.

The Runaways was loosely based on Currie’s memoirs, Neon Angel, while Jett served as producer. As such, the film focuses almost exclusively on the two. Ford and West are marginalized while Shawkat’s character gets no lines at all. The spotlight shines directly on Currie and Jett with some girl-on-girl action just for the hell of it. Currie is also the only character to get her personal life fleshed out. Other moments are similarly glanced over, such as the genesis of their signature hit, “Cherry Bomb,” which is ad-libbed in only a few short minutes.

Kristen Stewart and Dakota Fanning do an amiable job in their roles and sing surprisingly decent covers of tunes like “Dead End Justice” and “Queens of Noise.” But, it’s Michael Shannon, donning thick glam rock make-up, who really brings it as the flamboyant and abrasive Fowley. Shannon is definitely one of the best character actors working today, a 21st century version of Christopher Walken.

Floria Sigismondi, a photographer and director of commercials and music videos, makes her feature film debut here. She manages to capture the look of the 70’s even with a low budget though she doesn’t quite have the eye of someone like Anton Corbijn.

The Runaways is a messy movie, but refreshingly so, even if it feels like the Cliff Notes version of the true story.

Rating: **