Johnny English Reborn

Johnny English Reborn - Dir. Oliver Parker (2011)

2011 was the year of sequels, remakes, and reboots. Hollywood churned out new entries in blockbuster franchises like Pirates of the Caribbean, Fast and the Furious, Scream, and Johnny English. Wait, what? Yes, imagine my surprise when a sequel to the 2003 Rowan Atkinson spy spoof was scheduled for release in October. Surely, the original Johnny English was a flop? Domestically it only made $28 million off a $40 million budget. However, it raked in over $132 million in foreign markets, meaning it made four times its production budget. Eight years later, Johnny English Reborn did worse in the U.S. and even better in international theaters with $8 million domestic and $151 foreign. No doubt this has less to do with Atkinson's work on Black Adder and more to do with his instant recognition as the silent bumbler, Mr. Bean.

Secret agent extraordinaire Johnny English (Atkinson) has retreated to the seclusion of a Tibetan monastery to retrain his mind and body following a botched mission in Mozambique. English is called back into action by the fictional MI-7 and its new head Pamela Thornton (Gillian Anderson), code-named Pegasus. Word is out that a clandestine organization known as Vortex is plotting to assassinate the Chinese premier. English is put on the task and paired with the eager and inexperienced Agent Tucker (Daniel Kaluuya).

The cast also includes Dominic West as the suave Agent Simon Ambrose, Rosamund Pike as a psychologist and potential love interest, and another Black Adder alumnus Tim McInnery as Patch Quartermain, MI-7's weapons designer.

I'm not sure what there is left to mine in the spy genre. The Austin Powers pretty much stripped it bare. It's been eight years since the last movie and the cinematic spy has become a different beast thanks to The Bourne Identity and Casino Royale. Johnny English Reborn attempts to go grittier while parodying all the familiar staples and the combination just doesn't work. It doesn't help that none of the gags are funny or original. There's the standard scene where English is equipped with all the latest high-tech gadgets including a missile launching digital camera and a Rolls Royce Phantom with voice command. Problem is the Bond films made these sequences so famous that they themselves poked fun at them. Usually you'd see Pierce Brosnan muck around with the equipment much to the consternation of Q, then spout a few quips. The fact that you get the exact same bits here makes the scene feel so tired. The rest the humor revolves around people getting kicked in the genitals repeatedly and English's recurring run-ins with an elderly Chinese assassin, who is disguised as a cleaning woman.

Atkinson is a talented comedian with some great facial expression and a capacity for physical comedy, but there's not much he can do with such flat material. The filmmakers want Johnny English to be a capable agent, who can hold his own against a group of martial arts experts. Yet, at the same time, he's also incredibly stupid. There's a point where the character goes from being stupid in a funny way to being stupid in an infuriating manner. Again, the script from Hamish McColl, who also wrote Mr. Bean's Holiday, can't find the right balance.

What saves Johnny English Reborn from being a total loss is the presence of two beautiful women, referring to Gillian Anderson and Rosamund Pike. Anderson's role is essentially a take-off of Judi Dench's M, a leader looking to rid the agency of outdated methods and chauvinistic attitudes. She makes for a good foil to English's outrageous antics. Pike, a former Bond girl, is a welcome presence as someone who is both smart and sexy. You only wish the character had more to do.

Unless you're a huge Rowan Atkinson fan or just want to watch him beat up old ladies, then skip Johnny English Reborn.

Rating: * (*****)

The Son of No One

The Son of No One - Dir. Dito Montiel (2011)

Good actors do bad movies all the time. Such is the case with The Son of No One, a gritty crime drama with an A-list cast and a D-list story. What possessed them to take part in such a muddled mess? It's likely that on paper the film was an intriguing challenge, but the final product is decidedly not.

The Son of No One was written and directed by Dito Montiel, a former male model and hardcore punk musician. Montiel made his directorial debut with A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints, which starred Channing Tatum, Robert Downey Jr., and Shia Labeouf and was based on his memoirs about growing up in Astoria, Queens. Montiel reunited with Tatum for his second feature, Fighting, about, what else, underground fighting.

Montiel and Tatum are back together again as the director returns to his old stomping grounds of Queens. The film opens in 1986 with a young boy named Jonathan "Milk" White (Jake Cherry), who lives in the Queensboro projects with his grandmother. He is cowering in fear in the bathroom of his best friend Vinnie (Brian Gilbert) as a crazed junkie attempts to break down the door. Holding a gun in his hand, Jonathan opens fire and kills the intruder. The kid's late father was a police officer and his former partner, Det. Charles Stanford (Al Pacino), sweeps the whole thing under the rug.

Flash forward to 2002 and Jonathan is now a beat cop living in Staten Island with a wife (Katie Holmes) and a daughter, who suffers from seizures. Jonathan is transferred to Queens just as a local reporter, Loren Bridges (Juliette Binoche), begins receiving anonymous letters claiming the NYPD covered up two murders in the projects. Specifically, these letters name Det. Stanford and Jonathan's new commanding officer Captain Mathers (Ray Liotta).

Huh? Two murders? Yes, Jonathan White proves to be the unluckiest boy in the world, chalks up another accidental kill when a neighboring scumbag kicks his scruffy little dog to death. This ridiculous scene sums up exactly how Montiel piles on the melodrama in The Son of No One. Since half the story is set in 2002, the specter of 9/11 is ever present. Montiel imbues a heavy handed message that corruption still existed even at a time when the NYPD was still riding the wave of heroic patriotism. The frequency in which the plot bounces back and forth from '86 to '02 is both confusing and infuriating.

The past isn't any better than the future. It's not enough for Jonathan to murder one person before he even hits puberty. This poor boy has to kill two. And was there any reason to cover up the original death? It was a clear cut case of self-defense though you could argue Stanford didn't want to drag little Jonathan into a court case. It just adds to the overall feeling that not a lot of thought was put into the story. Meanwhile, Jonathan's old BFF, Vinnie, also suffers from an overabundance of soap opera setbacks. Not only was he traumatized by witnessing the murders, he was also molested by his mother's boyfriend and spent time in an institution. He's also played as an adult by Tracy Morgan, who gives it his all in a rare dramatic turn, but is simply unable to shed his outrageous comedic persona. His performance here immediately brings to mind the 30 Rock story arc where Tracy Jordan attempts to go serious by winning an EGOT (Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, and Tony).

Tatum, who sports a stereotypical cop's mustache, is an underrated comedic actor, but his dramatic chops leave much to be desired. He's too bland and wooden to make much of a mark. As for the rest of the cast, they're good, particularly James Ransone as Jonathan's fiery partner and Juliette Binoche, whose French accent stands out against a sea of New York/Italian inflections. Ray Liotta pretty much plays Ray Liotta while Katie Holmes gets nothing to do, except scream at her husband, "What's happening? Why won't you tell me the truth?" Then, there's Al Pacino, who is surprisingly restrained. Sorry, but subdued Pacino isn't nearly as much fun as bug-eyed and crazy Pacino.

The Son of No One premiered at Sundance in 2011, but received a lot of negative buzz. It's only now being released on DVD and Blu-ray from Anchor Bay. I can't think of a good reason to track this movie down unless you have to see everything Channing Tatum and Al Pacino are in.

Rating: * (*****)

Moneyball

Moneyball - Dir. Bennett Miller (2011)

"…there are rich teams and there are poor teams. Then, there's fifty feet of crap and then, there's us."

I used to be a big baseball fan back in the late-80's and early-90's. The Oakland A's were one of the most dominant forces in Major League Baseball back then. They won the 1989 World Series as well as three American League pennants in a row. At their disposal were ace reliever Dennis Eckersley, Rickey Henderson (one of the greatest lead-off hitters in baseball), and the Bash Brothers, Jose Canseco and Mark McGwire. My interest waned and I stopped following the sport aside from jumping on the bandwagon of the Padres when they made a World Series run in 1998. They were crushed 4-0 by the monolithic New York Yankees. The A's can sympathize as they were crushed by the Yanks in the 2001 AL championships. That's where Moneyball begins.

Based on the book by Michael Lewis, Moneyball is the account of how the A's general manager Billy Beane (played by Brad Pitt) reconstructing the franchise on a shoestring budget with a radical approach utilizing the statistical analysis of sabermetrics, developed by Bill James, a statistician who wrote on the subject while working as a night guard for a pork and beans factory.

At the time, Oakland had a payroll of just under $40 million compared to New York's payroll of over $114 million. The A's lose three of their biggest players in the post-season to free agency as Johnny Damon, Jason Giambi, and Jason Isringhausen leave for more lucrative contracts. Beane can't afford suitable replacements and his scouts are too fixated on superficial qualities like clean batting strokes and physiques. One opines that a prospect has an ugly girlfriend, which means he lacks confidence. He knows they don't always get it right. Beane himself was drafted straight out of high school to the Mets, despite receiving a full scholarship to Stanford. He never lived up to the high expectations imposed on him.

Desperate, Beane enlists the aid of Peter Brand (Jonah Hill), a Yale graduate with a degree in economics, who champions the use of stats, specifically on-base percentage, to determine potential players. Described as an "island of misfit toys," Beane and Brand recruit Chad Bradford (Casey Bond), a relief pitcher overlooked due to his unorthodox submarine delivery; David Justice (Stephen Bishop), an aging power hitter; and Scott Hatteberg (Chris Pratt), an injury plagued catcher shifted to first base. Traditionalists rage against Beane's reliance on numbers, believing it overlooks the complexities and intangibles inherent in the game.

Moneyball's production had as much of a rough start as the A's did during their 2002 season. Steven Soderbergh was previously attached to direct a screenplay written by Stan Chervin and Steve Zaillian. The director of Traffic and Contagion intended to use animated sequences to explain the statistics as well as interspersing interviews with real ball players. Soderbergh even cast Scott Hatteberg and David Justice to play themselves before being removed just days before filming was to begin. Sony went back to the drawing board, bringing on Bennett Miller (Capote) as director and commissioning a new script from Zaillian and Aaron Sorkin. While I would have loved to seen Soderbergh's take, what Miller and company have crafted is the kind of the feel good drama Hollywood is known for.

Moneyball transcends the trappings of a mere sports drama or underdog story. It has a lot in common with The Social Network beyond the involvement of Sorkin or producer Scott Rudin. Both are stories about the cultural change in the current informational age. The power no longer lies in the hands of the physically strong, but the meek and nerdy, exemplified by Jonah Hill's socially awkward Peter Brand, a fictional character based on Beane's assistant Paul DePodesta. He's the perfect foil to the suave and confident Billy Beane as portrayed by Brad Pitt. If Clooney is the modern day Cary Grant, then Pitt is the 21st century Robert Redford, even if he is constantly snacking in every scene.

The film's weaknesses do come through with subplots that feel unfinished, perhaps a remnant of its troubled pre-production. There's a lone scene featuring Robin Wright as Beane's ex-wife and an uncredited Spike Jonze as her new husband that doesn't really go anywhere. Although, there are tender moments between Pitt and his on-screen daughter, Kerris Dorsey, his personal life isn't as interesting as his professional one. Philip Seymour Hoffman gives an understated performance as the A's manager Art Howe, who disagrees with Beane's direction. Howe is the primary dissenter and works against Beane's plans, but fades into the background during the second half of the picture. When the A's start winning, we never hear his opinions or whether he finally came around to Beane's philosophies (he didn't).

I'm not a big baseball fan and none of the names in Moneyball meant anything to me. Yet, I found the movie to be absolutely engrossing. Moneyball is a film that makes the backstage politics and the business of baseball as dramatic as the actual game itself.

Rating: *** (*****)

The Grey

The Grey - Dir. Joe Carnahan (2012)

Once more into the fray.
Into the last good fight I'll ever know.
Live and die on this day.
Live and die on this day.

The early part of the year is generally the season for movie goers to catch up on all the best picture nominees as well as a dumping ground for forgettable action flicks and rom-coms. There's a new tradition now with Liam Neeson led action movies being released almost on a yearly basis. There was Taken in 2009 and Unknown in 2011. 2012 follows suit with The Grey with Neeson reunited with Joe Carnahan, the director of The A-Team. The script is based on the short story, Ghost Walker, by Ian MacKenzie Jeffers, who also penned the awful revenge thriller Death Sentence. Given the participants, I would have been satisfied with an hour and a half of Liam Neeson punching the fuck out of wolves. Indeed, the money shot of the trailer is Neeson duct taping a knife and broken miniature bottles to his hands as he prepares to dive into battle. Imagine my surprise to find The Grey is far more philosophical and contemplative than one would expect from Joe Carnahan.

Neeson stars as John Ottway, a sharpshooter stationed at an oil pumping station in the remote Arctic. He protects the workers from the wolves living in the surrounding wilds. It's not exactly a noble profession as the station employees are mostly reprobates and desperate men. As Ottway describes them, they are "unfit for mankind." Memories of his late-wife (Anne Openshaw) are the only things keeping him going.

A plane ride to Anchorage turns to disaster when the aircraft is caught in a blizzard and crashes into a snowy wasteland. Ottway assumes leadership of a handful of survivors that include the hotheaded ex-con Diaz (Frank Grillo), the devout family man Talget (an unrecognizable Dermot Mulroney), and the reserved Hendrick (Dallas Roberts). Their journey back to civilization is endangered not only by the harsh elements, but by a pack of vicious wolves. These wolves are stalking the survivors not for food, but for vengeance as they are trespassing on their territory.

What differentiates The Grey from the winter season's cinematic detritus is the existential tone as it deals with faith in the face of a cruel world. There's an overriding sense of the impermanence of mankind, who will always be at the mercy of Mother Nature. These are certainly heady subjects for what Open Road Films has marketed as a standard action movie.

The Grey does offer a visceral experience as the deaths can occur suddenly and without warning. The wolves themselves are like unrelenting creatures from a horror film. One shot features the protagonists face to face with the pack as their eyes glow a stark white against the jet black night sky. Another sequence sees the survivors, forced to trudge through deep snow, helplessly watch as wolves tear apart their friend. Amidst all the brutally, some of the deaths are handled with emotional gravitas. The first one occurs when one man is found in the wreckage bleeding to death. Ottway doesn't bother to comfort him or mince words, he tells the man in a matter-of-fact manner that he's dying and nothing can be done. Despite the survivors being a collection of stock characters, it hits hard when one of them goes.

Liam Neeson has had a long career as a respectable actor, but it's only recently that he's become a top shelf action hero. With his booming voice and imposing 6'4 stature, he definitely has the credibility. As Ottway, Neeson gives a rich performance that's tinged with an unshakeable sadness. It's obvious this was something of a therapeutic role allowing Neeson to work through issues following the death of his wife Natasha Richardson in 2009. There's talk The Grey may be re-released for a run during awards season. Frank Grillo, previously seen as the trainer in Warrior, gives an excellent performance here and is the centerpiece for one of the film's most powerful scenes.

The Grey represents Joe Carnahan's best work, even better than his breakout film, Narc. His direction is still stylish, but almost understated, refraining from his usually overly kinetic tricks. The plane crash is one of the most realistic and harrowing crashes committed to film. After that, we see Neeson lying peacefully next to his wife and underneath a white sheet only for her to be ripped away as he awakens in a snow drift.

The Grey is one of the first great films of 2012, a gut wrenching tale of survival in the vein of Jack London. The ways in which it deals with manhood, spirituality, and the inevitability of death would make Hemingway proud.

Rating: *** (*****)

If you want to read my spoilerific thoughts on the ending, click on the comments section.

Take Shelter

Take Shelter - Dir. Jeff Nichols (2011)

"Listen up. There is a storm coming like nothing you've ever seen and not a one of you is prepared for it."

Take Shelter is the long awaited follow up from writer/director Jeff Nichols, who won acclaim with his debut film, Shotgun Stories. The 2007 picture weaved itself into the New American Realism movement and chronicled the story about a blood feud between two sets of brothers living in a small Midwestern town. Take Shelter drops you into a similar setting and re-teams Nichols with actor Michael Shannon. This time, however, Take Shelter is a less hopeful film than Shotgun Stories, owing to the prevailing cultural zeitgeist in the midst of war and economic collapse.

Shannon is Curtis LaForche, a construction worker living in Ohio with his lovely wife, Samantha (Jessica Chastain). Their daughter, Hannah (Tova Stewart), is deaf and her parents jump through hoops to get their medical insurer to cover surgery for a cochlear implant. Despite this trouble, Curtis lives a good life, a fact happily pointed out by his best friend and co-worker Dewart (Shea Wigham). "I think that's the best compliment you can give a man, take a look at his life and say, 'That's good.'"

Dark times are ahead when Curtis is plagued by foreboding and disturbing nightmares. He envisions viscous liquid raining down from the sky. Another dream sees Curtis desperately trying to protect Hannah as strangers break into his pick-up truck and claw at him as if they were in the middle of a zombie movie. Curtis awakes in a sweaty start and the dread lingers on. He fears the well-behaved family dog will bite him so he puts him out in the yard. As the visions worsen, Curtis takes out a risky home improvement loan to build a storm shelter in their backyard. Samantha is exasperated at his bizarre behavior and his reticence to explain his actions. We learn that Curtis's mother was institutionalized for paranoid schizophrenia, which leaves you wondering if Curtis is slowly going mad or having genuine premonitions of disaster.

Armageddon was the theme of 2011 and not in the Roland Emmerich sort of way. Some films, such as Lars Von Trier's Melancholia, dealt with the societal turmoil of the day rather bluntly. Others like Martha Marcy May Marlene and Bellflower, touched upon those topics in an allegorical fashion. This is how Take Shelter unfolds as Curtis's disturbing visions exacerbate problems that will be familiar to anyone. As a working class family, their financial stability and their daughter's health hinges entirely on Curtis being regularly employed. Curtis seeks psychological help, but doesn't go because the expert is too far away and too expensive. Instead, he meets with a counselor at a free clinic. She is willing to help, but clearly overworked and inexperienced.

Michael Shannon gives an absolutely captivating performance. His intensity and unconventional looks are reminiscent of a young Christopher Walken. Much like Walken, Shannon has found a niche in playing severe personalities as evidenced in films like, Revolutionary Road and My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done. He's not a frightening individual in Take Shelter, but an imminently sympathetic one. During a community dinner, Shannon explodes with a rage and fury that is uncomfortable and tragic without being over the top. At his side is the ubiquitous Jessica Chastain, who truly broke out in 2011 with a slew of appearances including her Oscar nominated role in The Help. She played the loving wife to a turbulent husband previously in Terrence Malick's masterpiece, The Tree of Life. However, her role in here is far less ethereal, allowing Chastain to really stretch her acting muscles. There's an unwavering sense of compassion and devotion for her husband that makes Samantha the heart of the picture. Praise should also go to Shea Whigham, an actor more known for playing henchmen.

Your opinion of Take Shelter may hinge on the abrupt and ambiguous ending that feels ripped from a classic episode of The Twilight Zone. It's hard to delve deeper without spoilers other than to say it is a scene that will be widely discussed on podcasts and message boards for years to come. What I can say is Take Shelter is a deeply moving psychological drama with two powerhouse performances from Michael Shannon and Jessica Chastain. This was one of my favorite films from 2011.

Rating: *** ½ (*****)

Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance

Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance - Dirs. Mark Neveldine & Brian Taylor (2012)

Ghost Rider isn't one of Marvel's most well-known characters, but he is one of the coolest looking ones. Inspired by the popularity of Evel Knievel, Ghost Rider was created in 1972 as stunt rider Johnny Blaze, who is transformed into a fiery spirit of vengeance after making a pact with the devil to save the life of his mentor. During the grim and gritty era of the early-90's, the Rider was remade into a spiky leather wearing biker named Danny Ketch. The original Ghost Rider film featured a combination of both characters as played by the shamanic assassin of acting Nicolas Cage. You'd think it would be difficult to screw up a movie about a flaming skeleton on a badass motorcycle, but somehow Sony did thanks in part to the pedestrian direction of Mark Steven Johnson. The bane of comic book fans everywhere, Johnson also wrote and directed the poorly received Daredevil.

Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance is Sony's attempt at a mulligan, dusting off an old script by David S. Goyer. Part reboot/part sequel, Spirit of Vengeance glances over the Rider's origins and is connected only tangentially to the original picture. Cage is back as Johnny Blaze, who has been living a nomadic existence in Eastern Europe. He is roped into protecting Nadya (Violante Placido) and her son Danny (Fergus Riordan), who turns out to be the spawn of Satan himself. Comic readers know that the Marvel version of the devil is Mephisto, played in the first Ghost Rider by Peter Fonda. Here, it's Ciarán Hinds in the role and he's simply known as Roark.

Roark needs the boy for a ritual that will allow him to walk unfettered on Earth. To defeat Ghost Rider and capture Danny, Roark transforms a nasty mercenary named Carrigan (Johnny Whitworth) into a creature fans know as Blackout. In his new form, Carrigan looks like a member of the Edgar Winter Group and has the power to sap light around his victims and decay anything he touches. Well, anything except a Twinkie and steering wheels because he still has no problems driving.

The first Ghost Rider was a slick looking blockbuster, but suffered from unimaginative action sequences. These problems should have been corrected since the sequel has the directing duo of Neveldine/Taylor behind the wheel. The filmmakers behind the Crank series utilized adrenaline junkie techniques during the shooting of Spirit of Vengeance. They bungee jumped off rooftops and performed handheld shots on rollerblades. Somehow, their set pieces aren't any more exciting than those of the previous movie or of any other generic action film playing on late night cable. It's mostly Ghost Rider whipping his chain around and burning armies of henchmen into ash. Only rarely do Neveldine/Taylor inject a bit of excitement into Spirit of Vengeance. There's a cool shot of Idris Elba flying backwards in slow motion off a cliff side while firing his shotgun and a sequence where Ghost Rider turns a gigantic construction machine into a demonic engine of death. Neveldine/Taylor also utilize some cool effects for Carrigan's blackout powers by switching to a distorted fish eye lens. They never make the most of the exotic locations either. The film was shot on location in Turkey and Romania where the setting could have lent a classic Italian Giallo flavor to the proceedings. Instead, Neveldine/Taylor shoot in such a manner that Spirit of Vengeance looks like a cheap Sci-Fi Channel movie-of-the-week.

The special effects used to create Ghost Rider have improved. He's grimier with a smoked out skull and a charred leather jacket. He's less intimidating the second time around. This is mostly due to Cage's motion capture work as he decided to have the Rider sway back and forth as if he were at a Bauhaus concert. Also missing is the Penance Stare, Ghost Rider's ability to turn his victims into a desiccated husk by forcing them to feel the pain they've caused a hundredfold. Johnson used fire and brimstone to capture the Penance Stare. Neveldine/Taylor just have Ghost Rider stare lovingly into the eyes of his enemies.

Cage fails to bring the Rider's alter-ego to life too. At least, he was eating jelly beans from a martini glass and listening to the Carpenters before. Here, he's just plain old Nic Cage and not maniacally hammy Nic Cage. His unique acting style can work if fired with precision like a hollow point bullet through a high caliber sniper rifle. So far, the only auteur to truly harness the frenzy of Nic Cage is Werner Herzog. Neveldine/Taylor surprisingly keep Cage tightly on a leash. There's no sign of the cartoony Cage that has become popular YouTube fodder ("Not the bees!"). The one time he does freak out is during an interrogation scene where Blaze threatens to release the Rider.

Picking up the slack in the ham department is Ciarán Hinds, who realizes how ridiculous it all is and plays it accordingly. Criminally underused is comic book mainstay Idris Elba as Moreau, a hard-drinking French priest, who mostly serves to spout exposition at convenient moments. There's also Christopher Lambert as a tattooed, sword-wielding monk and Buffy alumnus Anthony Stewart Head as another monk.

Was I expecting a masterpiece from Spirit of Vengeance? No. At the very least, I hoped for something similar to Punisher: War Zone, where the sequel upped the action and stood as an enjoyable B-movie. Unfortunately, there's nothing here, except a thin, poorly conceived plot that barely covers the scant eighty-plus minute run time.

Rating: * (*****)

Tower Heist

Tower Heist - Dir. Brett Ratner (2011)

Don't you wish the Occupy movement could have struck at the one percent in a better way than camping out in the park and hoping they'd be driven off by their rank body odor? Tower Heist might satiate your thirst as a lightweight revenge fantasy about a group of working class stiffs striking back against the malevolent corporate elite.

Ben Stiller heads up an all-star cast as Josh Kovacs, the building manager for a Manhattan highrise played by the Trump International Hotel and the Trump Tower. The tower is the home to a hodgepodge of wealthy citizens and Kovacs caters to their every whim. The most famous and richest is Arthur Shaw (Alan Alda), an investment banker, who lives in the penthouse complete with a rooftop pool decorated by a giant hundred dollar bill and Steve McQueen's Ferrari in his living room. Shaw has more money than everyone else in the building combined, but he'll happily remind you he grew up in Queens and used to shovel horse manure at the racetracks. Shaw's genial demeanor rapidly fades when he is arrested for fraud of Bernie Madoff proportions. This includes the pension for the entire staff as well as the retirement fund for Lester (Stephen Henderson), the elderly doorman. Kovacs is pushed to the breaking point when poor Lester attempts to commit suicide. He vows to get back the money by any means necessary.

Kovacs believes Shaw has a hidden nest egg inside his apartment and gathers together a crew of misfits to plan the heist. He recruits brother-in-law & concierge Charlie (a wonderfully understated and self-deprecating Casey Affleck), dopey elevator operator Enrique (Michael Pena), and bankrupt stock broker Mr. Fitzhugh (Matthew Broderick). None of them know anything about stealing, but Kovacs knows someone who does...a black guy. The final member of the team is Slide (Eddie Murphy), a larcenous neighbor who used to go to daycare with Kovacs as children. The climactic crime sees the crew sneak into Shaw's penthouse amidst the hustle and bustle of Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Even if it sounds like a backhanded compliment, Tower Heist is by far the best work of director Brett Ratner. He'll never direct anything substantial, but he is a master of slick and hollow blockbusters. Tower Heist is a well made comedy that follows in the footsteps of the Ocean's franchise. In fact, the project was originally pitched by Eddie Murphy as an urban version of Ocean's Eleven, with Murphy hoping to star alongside talents like Chris Rock, Eddie Griffin, and Dave Chappelle. The screenplay was hammered down to a blue collar alternative to the ritzy Soderbergh pictures. The credited writers are Ocean's Eleven scribe Ted Griffin and Jeff Nathanson, who previously worked with Ratner on Rush Hour 2 and 3. There were also numerous uncredited rewrites by Rawson Marshall Thurber (Dodgeball), Leslie Dixon (Limitless), and Noah Baumbach (Greenberg). Despite all these writers, there are plot holes aplenty, the jokes aren't particularly witty and most of the humor skates by thanks to the easy chemistry of the cast. One of the funnier scenes features Slide initiating his cohorts by forcing them to steal merchandise at a trendy shopping mall. Ratner compliments the comedy with some dynamic action sequences with shout-outs to Die Hard and the iconic car chase from The French Connection.

Stiller makes a fine accounting of himself as the everyman taking charge of a situation and knowing how in over his head he is. Michael Pena has displayed strong comedic chops in Observe & Report and 30 Minutes or Less and he does so here as the team's resident dummy. Matthew Broderick is also funny as a pathetic sad sack, despite his character not being particularly useful. His math skills could have easily been replaced by the calculator app on an iPhone. What really brings the movie together is Alan Alda's performance as the villain. Alda plays up his nice guy image at the beginning of the film turning Shaw into the grandfather you wish you could have. Hey, he's Hawkeye Pierce, after all. Then, there's a slight shift in the tone of his voice that turns geniality into odious condescension.

Much has been made that Eddie Murphy's role in Tower Heist is a return to form. While it's certainly the most liveliest he's been in years, he's not quite the same Murphy from Beverly Hills Cop or 48 Hours. The few female members of the cast should also be praised. Gabourey Sidibe of Precious fame plays a Jamaican maid with a surprising talent for safecracking. Then, there's a smoky voiced Téa Leoni as a tough FBI agent and possible romantic interest for Kovacs.

There have been many unforgettable heist sequences in movie history from the Mini Cooper parade of the original The Italian Job to the silent jewelry store robbery from Jules Dassin's Rififi. Tower Heist won't ever be mentioned in the same breath as those films. Ratner's latest production is a generic comedy that matches its unimaginative title. Yet, it is a slickly shot picture and the imminently likeable cast generates enough goodwill to make it a fun hour and forty five minutes.

Rating: ** (*****)

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close - Dir. Stephen Daldry (2011)

Is it still too soon for a film about 9/11? That criticism was levied against Paul Greengrass's United 93 when it was released in 2006. In my mind, United 93 was a riveting and emotionally draining experience because it was handled in a realistic and even handed manner. The same cannot be said for Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, a cloying and overly precious adaptation of Jonathan Safran Foer's 2005 book. The method in which the film tackles its subject matter with such saccharine sentimentalization shouldn't come as a surprise as the screenplay was penned by Eric Roth, who also adapted Forrest Gump and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.

Extremely Loud deals with similar themes to Foer's debut novel, Everything is Illuminated, which was also made into a film by actor/director Liev Schreiber. Both are idiosyncratic works dealing with a protagonist on a journey to learn about themselves and their family. In Illuminated, it was the author himself. In Extremely Loud, it is eleven-year old Oskar Schell (Thomas Horn). Oskar's parents had them tested for Asperger's Syndrome, but the results were inconclusive. He has a hard time finding his place in the world and carries a tambourine to soothe his anxieties.

Oskar's father, Thomas (Tom Hanks), seems to be the only one who understands him. He tasks his son with a series of scavenger hunts to assist the boy in interacting with the outside world. Thomas is killed in the terrorist attacks leaving Oskar desperate to find meaning in his death. Oskar's mother, Linda (Sandra Bullock), doesn't have the easy rapport with Oskar her husband did and struggles to cope.

One day, he rifles through his father's belongings and discovers a key inside an envelope marked with the word, "Black." Oskar decides to look up everyone with the last name of Black in the five boroughs believing this is a final message from his late father. Along the way, Oskar gets a sidekick in an elderly mute man (Max von Sydow), who is renting a room from Thomas's mother. Known only as The Renter, he communicates through a notepad and tattoos of the words, "Yes" and "No," on his hands.

Oskar's journey encapsulates New Yorkers from all walks of life and symbolizes the romanticized view of how the city and we as a country came together after the tragedy. For the most part, these scenes feel very contrived and truncated, a meaningful message lost as it is distilled into a series of montages. Very rarely are there moments of genuine emotion. Oskar's visit to the first name on his list is the most powerful sequence in the film, due in no small part to the presence of Viola Davis, who seems incapable of giving a bad performance. In Doubt, Davis was only in one substantial scene opposite Meryl Streep, yet still garnered high praise and an Oscar nomination. She again spins gold out of a minuscule role as Abby Black, a woman in the middle of a messy divorce. Her husband (Jeffrey Wright) is rushing out of the house when Oskar comes to visit.

Wright is also solid in his supporting role as is Max von Sydow as a character that is both cartoonishly eccentric and heartbreakingly bare. As Oskar's parents, Tom Hanks and Sandra Bullock give fine performances, trading on their reputations for being so likable. Not faring so well is Thomas Horn, a young man discovered through his run on Teen Jeopardy. The entire film hinges on Horn, who's stilted line readings works well in short bursts to accentuate the character's detached nature. However, he is unable to handle large portions of dialogue. This is very problematic due to Oskar's continuous narration throughout the movie, a leftover remnant from the original novel.

No matter how hard they try, there is an aura of crassness that sullies whatever well meaning themes the filmmakers are attempting to portray. How can you not be revolted by the opening sequence featuring close-ups of Tom Hanks's body as plummets through the sky in slow motion? Another shot later on sees Hanks dropping out of the Tower and directly into the camera. In yet another scene, Oskar has printed out pictures from the internet of a body tumbling out of the building. He wonders if that was his father.

Director Stephen Daldry is responsible for three of the worst Best Picture nominees in recent memory, The Hours, The Reader, and now Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. Released to coincide with the 10th anniversary of 9/11, Extremely Loud feels less like a soothing salve on a gaping wound and more like a band-aid ripped off your arm in the most painful manner.

Rating ** (*****)

The Double

The Double - Dir. Michael Brandt (2011)

The Double marks the directorial debut of screenwriter Michael Brandt, who has co-written 2 Fast 2 Furious, 3:10 to Yuma and Wanted with his writing partner Derek Haas. Together they have crafted a spy thriller inspired by Robert Ludlum and Tom Clancy as well as classic flicks like 3 Days of the Condor. The Double has languished in development hell for over a decade and was previously acquired by troubled MGM. You'd think the script had been around even longer considering the main antagonists are Russian agents. Yet, the idea of Cold War remnants infiltrating American society isn't too farfetched considering the 2010 arrest of a Russian spy ring, which included the real-life Black Widow, Anna Chapman. Sadly, there are no redheaded femme fatales in The Double, just Richard Gere and Topher Grace.

It begins with the murder of a United States senator, whose throat was slit by a garrote wire. This method of death was the trademark for a Russian assassin code-named Cassius, long thought to be dead. CIA Agent Paul Shepherdson (Gere) is called out of retirement as he had spent much of his career attempting to capture Cassius and his conspirators. Shepherdson is paired with FBI analyst Ben Geary (Grace), a Harvard graduate who wrote his thesis on Cassius.

As much as it would like to be another Bourne Identity, The Double isn't much more than a nondescript espionage film full of tropes and archetypes we've seen a thousand times over. The protagonists are a generically mismatched pair with Shepherdson as the world weary veteran and Geary as the wide-eyed and determined rookie. Shepherdson lives a lonely existence while Geary is blessed with a loving wife (Odette Yustman) and newborn baby.

The Double also hinges on two major plot twists, the first of which occurs early in the film and is given away in the theatrical trailer. The twist is a fairly obvious one, unless you've never watched a movie before in your life. At least, the first twist makes sense and propels the story into the second and third acts. The climactic twist comes out of nowhere and only muddles the narrative rather than adding an extra dimension.

Though Brandt has written some really good action movies, he doesn't have a firm grasp of the genre as a director. Perhaps, it had something to do with the limitations of shooting on a low budget. The action sequences are brief, uninspired and only seem to exist as a vain attempt to bring a little energy to the lifeless drama.

Richard Gere is still pretty spry for a man who is sixty-two. His role in The Double isn't the usual genial character he's played in so many romantic comedies. It's a part that lies somewhere in between his turn as a corrupt police detective in Internal Affairs and his cynical beat cop from Brooklyn's Finest. Topher Grace has a knack for comedy and he shines in the film's lighter moments, but doesn't make much of an impression when he's forced to exercise his dramatic muscles. The cast also includes Martin Sheen as the Director of the CIA, Stephen Moyer as a Russian assassin, and the lovely Stana Katic from Castle as a prostitute.

There isn't a good reason for this movie to even exist. The Double feels unnecessary compared to recent spy films. It doesn't come close to matching the depth and complexities of the masterful Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy. In fact, it doesn't even have half the thrills of Salt or even Spy Kids: All the Time in the World.

Rating: * ½ (*****)

Texas Killing Fields

Texas Killing Fields - Dir. Ami Canaan Mann (2011)

Texas Killing Fields was inspired by the unsolved disappearances and murders of over thirty young women along a lonely stretch of highway between Galveston and Houston, Texas. Of particular note is an abandoned oil field outside the small town of League City, colloquially known as "the Killing Fields," where four of the bodies have been found. These crimes have dated as far back as the 1970's.

Tough guys Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Sam Worthington are Brian Heigh and Mike Souder, two gruff detectives patrolling Texas City, a rural burg surrounded by desolate bayous and rusty oil derricks. Heigh is a weary veteran, who has moved from New York with his wife (Annabeth Gish) due to unspecified reasons. Souder is a hothead and often clashes with his partner.

Heigh also looks after Little Anne Sigler (Chloe Grace Moretz), a girl who is usually found wandering the streets because her drug addicted mother doesn't want her around while she's entertaining male company.

The detectives are investigating the murder of a young prostitute and Souder believes it's an open and shut case against her accused pimp. Heigh isn't so sure, especially when the mutilated body of a missing woman is discovered in the Fields by Souder's ex-wife, Det. Pam Stall (Jessica Chastain). Souder believes they shouldn't get involved as the Fields are outside their jurisdiction, but Heigh feels differently.

Texas Killing Fields was written by Don Ferrarone, a former DEA agent who has worked as a technical advisor on films like Man on Fire and Miami Vice. Speaking of which, Michael Mann served as producer while his daughter, Ami Canaan Mann directed. Her style certainly shares similarities with her father judging by the way she composes a shootout and car chase. The tone of the film is closest to Manhunter, Michael Mann's oft-forgotten adaptation of an early Hannibal Lecter novel. Don't expect Texas Killing Fields to follow in the relentlessly dark footsteps of Seven or Silence of the Lambs.

The film had been in development hell for a while with Danny Boyle once attached as director. Boyle once stated that the script was so dark, it might never be made. It's quite clear that many concessions were made to make the final product more palpable to mainstream audiences. Instead of an unsettling thriller, Texas Killing Fields is more of a dreary procedural littered with half-finished subplots. Much like Seven, the story veers towards a pessimistic view that the bad guy can get away and that darkness can consume even the best of us. Yet, these themes are undone by a tacked on happy ending.

Luckily the cast is talented enough to elevate the material slightly above mediocre levels. With his deep, gravelly voice, Jeffrey Dean Morgan was an excellent choice to play the burdened Brian Heigh. Sam Worthington doesn't fare as well. The Australian-born actor sometimes has a difficult time pulling off an American accent; a Southern one was too much to ask. His speech is all over the map. Then, there's the ubiquitous Jessica Chastain, who had hear breakout year in 2011. She won rave reviews for her roles in The Tree of Life, Take Shelter, and The Help. However, her work here and in The Debt was overlooked, likely because both films were rather subpar. Still, she's the best thing in either picture. Also present in Fields is Chloe Moretz in a role more subdued than her turns in Let Me In and Kick-Ass. She has the air of a young Jodie Foster here and it's a shame she wasn't given more to do as Little Anne served as the heart of the movie.

Despite an excellent cast and an intriguing true crime premise, Texas Killing Fields can't muster up the suspense of an average episode of CSI.

Rating: ** (*****)

In Time

In Time - Dir. Andrew Niccol (2011)

"For a few to be immortal, many must die."

Time is money in this high concept sci-fi action flick starring Justin Timberlake and Amanda Seyfried. In Time (formerly under the working titles of Now and I'm.mortal) is set in an alternate world where time is the new currency and genetic engineering has allowed mankind to cease aging at 25. Everyone is born with a year on their clock and once you reach of age, time begins ticking away. A glowing digital readout on your forearm tells you how much you have left. Instead of 99-cent stores, they have 99-seconds stores and a cup of coffee can cost four minutes. The poor are forced to literally live day by day. Now and then, some poor soul will drop dead in the street. Their body lays there because nobody has the time to pick him up. Just when you think you're about to come ahead, the cost of living rises.

And forget about upward mobility. The city is divided into sections known as Time Zones and it can cost someone years to travel from the ghetto of Dayton to the affluent part of the city known as New Greenwich.

Will Salas (Timberlake) understands how broken the system is. There's not much he can do about it, until a high roller named Henry Hamilton (Matt Bomer) arrives in Dayton with over a hundred years on his clock. Will saves him from a group of time thieves led by Fortis (Alex Pettyfer). Already over a century old, Henry gives Will his remaining time before running his clock out. When Will's mother, Rachel (Olivia Wilde), dies in his arms because she couldn't afford a bus ride, he vows revenge against the wealthy in New Greenwich.

Before he can enjoy the lap of luxury, Will is falsely accused of murdering Henry by the Raymond Leon (Cillian Murphy), a police officer known in this world as a Timekeeper. Will escapes from custody and kidnaps Sylvia (Amanda Seyfried), the daughter of a powerful banker named Philippe Weis (Vincent Kartheiser). Weis callously extols the virtues of temporal Darwinism, only the strong must survive for mankind to prosper. Faster than you can say Patty Hearst, the rebellious Sylvia joins forces with Will to rob from the rich and give to the poor. Their disruption of the status quo makes them wanted fugitives.

In Time was written and directed by Andrew Niccol, no stranger to dystopian futures having also made Gattaca, about a society where the population has been engineered to be perfect. Niccol also directed the underrated Lord of War and wrote the screenplay for The Truman Show. As such, "In Time" has some clever ideas. The poor are always in a rush because they haven't the time to dawdle while the rich can afford to live at a leisurely pace. The trade off is that they can still die by accident so they surround themselves with bodyguards and be overly cautious. Thus, the elite don't truly enjoy the fruits of immortality. When Weis lines up his wife, daughter, and mother-in-law, they could just as well be triplets.

Niccol wisely avoids delving into the origins and science of his world. Such exposition isn't necessary and any deep thoughts into the story would yield a great deal of plot holes. You'll also need to prepare yourself for inane dialogue rife with silly time-related puns.

The concept of an eternally youthful society allows the movie to be completely populated only by the young and the beautiful. Justin Timberlake has taken bold roles in films like Alpha Dog and Southland Tales to distance himself from his boy band image. His turn as Facebook co-founder Sean Parker in The Social Network was exceptional. Yet, he doesn't quite have the chops to play a believable action hero. With her anime eyes and china doll looks, Amanda Seyfried, is perfectly cast as the fragile socialite.

In Time doesn't have the cerebral tone of Niccol's previous films. It is a straight-up B-movie with a few shootouts and car chases thrown in when it's not too busy pontificating about social inequality. The message is hammered home so frequently that In Time could easily be considered socialist propaganda or at the very least, a rallying cry for the Occupy Movement. If you've got time to spare, it might prove to be a mildly diverting experience.

Rating: ** (*****)

Man on a Ledge

Man on a Ledge - Dir. Asger Leth (2012)

Man on a Ledge sort of gives you what it advertises. There's a man and he's on a ledge, but the film isn't clever or patient enough to stick to a single location. This is not Phone Booth or Buried.

The story kicks off with Sam Worthington checking into the ritzy Roosevelt Hotel in Manhattan. He orders a hearty breakfast consisting of lobster and champagne before writing a suicide note and stepping onto the ledge.

The story shifts back several months to reveal Worthington as disgraced police officer Nick Cassidy, who was sent to prison for stealing a $40 million diamond from real estate tycoon David Englander (Ed Harris). Turns out, Englander lost a fortune in the financial collapse and stole the diamond himself to collect the insurance money. With the help of corrupt cops, he was able to frame Cassidy, who managed to escape from prison.

Cassidy initiates an elaborate plan to prove his innocence and get revenge on Englander. His suicide ploy is meant only as a diversion to allow his brother, Joey (Jamie Bell), and Joey's girlfriend, Angie (Genesis Rodriguez), to break into Englander's vault and find the diamond.

Elizabeth Banks appears as a negotiator on leave following a failed attempt to prevent a rookie cop from jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge. There's also Ed Burns as another detective on the scene, Anthony Mackie as Cassidy's former partner, Titus Welliver as a SWAT commander, Kyra Sedgwick in a tiny role as news reporter Suzie Morales, and a whole host of onlookers. In classic New York fashion, they urge Cassidy to take the plunge in the hopes of recording it on their smartphones. Rounding out the cast is William Sadler in a seemingly throwaway part as a hotel valet. It's clear the valet will play a much larger role in the scheme based on the simple fact they cast such a notable character actor.

Man on a Ledge is essentially a heist movie, but the actual heist is glaringly pedestrian. Englander employs a supposedly state-of-the-art system, yet it's easily bypassed by crawling through a few air ducts and slicing the obligatory red wire. These scenes are made all the more sillier by the curvaceous Genesis Rodriguez typecast as a feisty Latina, which seems to be the only kind of Latina in cinema. She repels down elevator shafts and dangles above the floor Mission: Impossible-style while never removing her hoop earrings. Rodriguez even finds a flimsy excuse to strip down to her lace underwear. The gratuitous butt shots are a welcome relief from the inane banter she shares with Jamie Bell. It mostly consists of Joey asking Angie if he's given her the best sex she's ever had.

We never get any explanation as to how they acquired the schematics for Englander's building and security. The movie also makes a big deal about Cassidy wiping his fingerprints within the hotel room, yet the police could have easily lifted them from the window or the outside wall when he climbed out.

The interplay between Worthington and Banks doesn't fare much better than their co-stars'. Banks gives a solid performance, but her perfunctory backstory never fully meshes since we know Cassidy has no intention of jumping. Worthington has his fair share of critics, but I find he's a decent action hero. Here, he's forced to emote far more and isn't able to rise to the occasion. The sheer presence of Ed Harris makes up for Worthington's blandness. Harris plays the villain with cackling, cartoonish glee allowing Man on a Ledge to serve as a silly catharsis with the working class man triumphing against the corporate elite.

Despite a contrived script and a wealth of plot holes, Man on a Ledge is slickly shot by cinematographer Paul Cameron (Collateral) and Dutch director Asger Leth, a documentarian making his narrative debut. It's forgettable and not worth the effort to see the in the theaters. However, Man on a Ledge is worth a rental or a perusal on Netflix Instant should you be willing to check your brain at the door and have a lazy weekend afternoon to kill.

Rating: ** (*****)

Dream House

Dream House - Dir. Jim Sheridan (2011)

Dream House sure sounded like a dream project. At the helm was Jim Sheridan, the Academy Award nominated director of My Left Foot, In the Name of the Father and In America. The cast had serious star power with Daniel Craig, Rachel Weisz, and Naomi Watts in the lead roles. Yet, Dream House turned into a complete nightmare. Sheridan clashed frequently with producer James G. Robinson. Their disagreements centered on Sheridan employing an improvisational style that deviated heavily from the script by David Loucka. Response from test screenings was disastrous and extensive reshoots were required. Robinson and Morgan Creek Productions took control and edited the move themselves. A displeased Sheridan attempted to have his name removed from the credits. Dream House was eventually released with very little fanfare. There was no gala premiere, no press screenings, and the actors refused to promote the picture. It seemed the only good thing to come out of the film was the fact that Craig and Weisz fell in love on set and eventually married.

Craig is Will Atenton, a successful book editor in New York, who quits his job to spend more time with his family. He's just bought a new home in a sleepy, snow covered New England town. He hopes to live a quiet life with his wife, Libby (Weisz), and daughters Trish & Dee Dee (Taylor & Claire Geare). But, that doesn't appear to be in the cards. The townsfolk are on edge around Atenton, especially his next-door neighbor Ann Patterson (Watts), who is in a bitter custody dispute with her ex-husband Jack (Marton Csokas). After chasing off a group of goth teenagers partying in his basement, Will learns the previous owners of his happy house were brutally murdered. A man named Peter Ward allegedly killed his wife and daughters and was committed to an insane asylum. As Will digs further into the mystery, he may like what he finds.

It's difficult to discuss the plot of Dream House any further without spoiling everything. That's assuming you haven't seen the trailer, which revealed practically the entire movie. Not that it really matters; the story is so trite and unoriginal that you will see every twist coming. For one thing, Elias Koteas is in the movie. When has Elias Koteas ever been cast in a role where he wasn't a creepy guy?

Despite all the finger pointing, there's plenty of blame to go around. First there's the hacky screenplay by David Loucka, whose most notable credit was as a co-writer on the Whoopi Goldberg comedy, Eddie. It's a safe bet that A-list talent like Craig, Weisz, and Watts signed on to work with Jim Sheridan. However, I don't think his version would have been that much better than the final product.

Dream House seems like the Exorcist prequel all over again. Not surprisingly that was also produced by Morgan Creek. Paul Schrader directed the original picture before the studio hired Renny Harlin was brought on to direct a retooled version. They were both eventually released into theaters and were both critical and financial flops.

Sheridan's cut may have been incrementally better than the theatrical version, but it surely couldn't have been on par with his best work. This isn't the same Sheridan who directed In America. It's the Sheridan who directed Get Rich or Die Tryin.' Sheridan is more than capable of telling personal stories about Irish immigrants, but he's not up to handling slick Hollywood fare.

Dream House might be Daniel Craig's worst performance ever. Perhaps, Craig was less than enthused about returning for reshoots and couldn't be bothered to give it his all. Sort of like Harrison Ford being forced to read the stilted narration for the theatrical cut of Blade Runner.

Dream House consists of so many half-baked contrivances that you'd think it was made by someone who went through M. Night Shyamalan's dumpster. The backstage drama during the production was far more compelling than the actual movie. This is an ineptly made thriller lacking in atmosphere or suspense.

Rating: * (*****)

Haywire

Haywire - Dir. Steven Soderbergh (2012)

Steven Soderbergh has to be considered one of the most versatile filmmakers working today. He can effortlessly switch from slick blockbusters like Erin Brockovich and the Ocean's series to iconoclastic indie projects like Bubble and Full Frontal. Soderbergh's latest film, Haywire, is a melding of both worlds and his first foray into the action genre.

Haywire was conceived specifically for Gina Carano, who is considered by many to be THE face of female MMA. This is her first movie role and though she's not exactly an actress with great range, she is a believable badass. Carano is far more suited to the role of action heroine than others like Kate Beckinsale, Angelina Jolie, or Milla Jovovich. She's not wafer thin, but curvy, tough, and beautiful.

Carano is the awesomely named Mallory Kane, an operative for a private security firm specializing in secretive missions. She is betrayed by her boss, Kenneth (Ewan McGregor), following a job in Barcelona to rescue a Chinese journalist held hostage. Mallory is sent to Dublin under the guise of posing as arm candy for Paul (Michael Fassbender), a British freelance agent, who is actually tasked with killing her. When that fails, Mallory sets out on a quest for revenge and leaves a trail of bodies in her wake.

Haywire opens somewhere in the middle of the story with Mallory confronting a fellow agent, Aaron (Channing Tatum), in a diner. After a vicious fight, she grabs a good samaritan (Michael Angarano) and forces him to drive her away as she tells him his story. Not the most original device, but a clever and simple way to unfold the narrative.

Aside from beginning in media res, the plot is fairly straightforward and minimalistic. It's a close cousin to another Soderbergh revenge picture, The Limey, which was also penned by Haywire screenwriter Lem Dobbs. In fact, it could almost be mistaken for the type of low-budget, direct-to-video actioners that are pumped out by Seagal, Van Damme or Dolph Lundgren. What sets Haywire apart from such detritus is Steven Soderbergh and an A-list cast.

This is Gina Carano's acting debut and Soderbergh plays to her strengths. He doesn't give Carano any extended monologues, making sure her lines are short and sweet. He even tweaked her voice in post-production to make it deeper and more authoritative. Carano tends to deliver some of her dialogue in a robotic manner that actually accentuates the cold and ruthless demeanor of Mallory Kane. It's not unlike what Soderbergh did with ex-porn star Sasha Grey in The Girlfriend Experience. There, Grey's somewhat wooden performance played into her character's detached personality. Rather than placing the entire burden on Carano's shoulders, Soderbergh allows his impressive supporting cast to do most of the heavy lifting. In addition to Ewan McGregor and Michael Fassbender, the ensemble includes Antonio Banderas and Michael Douglas as shady government officials and Bill Paxton as Mallory's ex-military father.

In any event, no one came to see Carano deliver Shakespearean soliloquies. You're here to see her kick ass.

Soderbergh takes a basic approach to the action sequences and doesn't drown them with shoddy CGI, heavy metal music or cartoonish foley effects. He doesn't turn them into an incomprehensible mess by using rapid editing or manic camera movements. He keeps the camera steady and shoots in wide and medium shots. It's a joy seeing Carano bouncing off a wall and smashing somebody in the face with a hard fist. Two of the best set pieces in the film are the opening diner brawl and a car chase with Carano evading police by driving backwards through a snow covered forest. The centerpiece of Haywire is a brutal fight between Carano and Fassbender inside a hotel room. Soderbergh allows the tension to simmer to a boil as the couple calmly walks to their door and Carano slowly slips out of her heels. You know shit is about to explode, but you just don't know when.

Forgoing the typical rock soundtrack, Soderbergh opts for a sleek and jazzy score by David Holmes, who was also the composer on the Ocean's series. The music certainly has that same old school feel and combined with the subdued color palette gives Haywire a 70's throwback style.

Working with less money and less resources, Steven Soderbergh manages to blow away the big budget schlock by Michael Bay and generic directors like Len Wiseman or Brett Ratner. Haywire is arthouse action comparable to Nicholas Winding Refn's Drive, which was my pick for best film of 2011. Hopefully, Haywire won't be forgotten when it's time to write up the Best of 2012 lists. It's a unique film that marks the beginning of a promising new career for Gina Carano.

Rating: **** (*****)