The Place Beyond the Pines

The Place Beyond the Pines - Dir. Derek Cianfrance (2013)

"If you ride like lightning, you're gonna crash like thunder."

Derek Cianfrance debuted as a filmmaker with 1998's Brother Tied, but didn't gain widespread notice until his second feature, "Blue Valentine," an intimate and heartbreaking story of a dissolving marriage. Cianfrance's latest movie, The Place Beyond the Pines, is a much more ambitious effort that re-teams the writer/director with Blue Valentine star Ryan Gosling.

Place Beyond the Pines is a generational drama told in three parts about the sins of the father passing on to their sons. The tale begins with an uninterrupted tracking shot of Luke Glanton (Ryan Gosling), the main attraction at a traveling carnival. Luke and his partners, the Heartthrobs, ride their motorcycles around and around within the confines of a caged sphere, an apt allusion for Luke's vagabond life. That is, until he runs into old flame, Romina (Eva Mendes), and discovers they had a son together. Luke decides to stick around. In his own words, "I wasn't around my dad...look at the way I turned out." However, his job prospects are slim and the only work he can get is fixing cars at a low-rent body shop run by Robin (Ben Mendelsohn, once again cast as a sweaty lowlife). Looking to score some fast cash, Luke and Robin cobble a plan to rob banks with the former hitting hard and fast before escaping on his bike. There, Robin will be waiting with a box truck to scoop up Luke and make their escape.

The second act changes gears as we follow Avery Cross (Bradley Cooper), a squeaky clean beat cop who crosses paths with Luke, now dubbed the 'Moto-Bandit.' Avery's newfound notoriety catches the eye of veteran detective Peter Deluca (Ray Liotta). Soon, Avery finds himself in a dirty world where he's forced to take payoffs and steal evidence from police lockup. The story leaps forward fifteen years in the third act to focus on Jason (Dane DeHaan) and AJ (Emory Cohen), the respective sons of Luke and Avery. Jason has a lot of questions about the father he never knew while AJ feels ignored by his dad, who is in the running for New York's Attorney General. The two become friends not knowing the improbable connection they share.

Cianfrance announces his bold vision for Place Beyond the Pines right from the beginning with that memorable tracking shot courtesy of DP Sean Bobbitt, who also shot similar sequences for Steve McQueen on Hunger and Shame. Gosling commands attention with every scene he's in, despite the fact that he plays a slight variation of the taciturn loner seen in Drive. Gosling's smoldering charisma is so undeniable that the film suffers when he disappears. This is no slight on Bradley Cooper, but his character isn't nearly as interesting and his travails are fairly formulaic. The movie does improve in the third act with the arrival of Dane DeHaan, who bares more than a resemblance to a young Leonardo DiCaprio. DeHaan has quickly established himself as one of Hollywood's top newcomers due to his work on Lawless and Chronicle. His performance here is strong and carries the final section of Pines while Cohen overplays his hand with a thick Long Island accent. Eva Mendes is also terrific as the glammed down Romina. Well, at least as glammed down as Eva Mendes can get.

The Place Beyond the Pines is an uneven effort by Derek Cianfrance, but the writer/director has nothing to be ashamed about. There's a melancholy lyricism to the movie, which is handsomely shot and littered with emotional performances and naturalistic dialogue.

Rating: ** ½ (*****)

Fast Five

Fast Five - Dir. Justin Lin (2011)

The Fast & the Furious franchise revs its engines for an improbable fifth time. The gang is all back, faster than ever and not as furious as before, according to the shortened title.

Fast Five immediately picks up where Fast & Furious left off with Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) rescued from a prison bus by rogue law officer Brian O'Connor and girlfriend Mia Toretto (Jordana Brewster). The trio flees to picturesque Rio de Janeiro where they find themselves on the hit list of local kingpin Hernan Reyes (Joaquim de Almeida), who has an army of goons and half the police force at his disposal. Our protagonists strike back by initiating a daring plan to steal $100 million locked tight in a high-tech vault underneath the police station. In order to do so, they must assemble an all-star crew of characters from previous films, including the laid-back Han (Sung Kang), Israeli bombshell Gisele (Gal Gadot), and glib motor mouth Roman Pearce (Tyrese Gibson).

Their complex scheme grows even more complicated with the introduction of a hard-assed federal agent named Hobbs (Dwayne Johnson) tasked with bringing in the fugitives.

Fast Five is everything you expect it to be. This isn't Harold Pinter, but a robust precursor to the big-budget extravaganzas of summer movie season. Fast Five speaks to the inner child of anyone who spent their youth smashing Hot Wheels together. If you tune into NASCAR events in the hopes of seeing a fiery wreck, then this is the movie for you. Fast Five is junk food cinema so slickly directed by Justin Lin (who helmed the previous two pictures) that even the subtitles have to stylishly fly across the screen. The franchise is refreshed by its new environment with Rio deftly replacing the urban cityscapes of the earlier movies. As required by any film shot in the Brazilian city, there are sweeping panorama shots all revolving around the iconic statue of Christ the Redeemer. Fast Five is hardly a travelogue to promote tourism considering all the drug labs, corrupt cops, and machine gun toting teenagers. It's a far cry from the city full of happy-go-lucky song birds depicted in Blue Sky Studios' Rio. The local government is probably longing for the days when all they had to deal with was The Simpsons.

Lin isn't the most innovative action director around, but he's competent enough to achieve the wanton destruction necessary to sate the ids of the audience. The film opens with a bus crash, and follows up with the gang stealing muscle cars off a moving train. As seen in the trailer, it all culminates with Toretto and O'Connor driving off a bridge and leaping into the water ala Butch and Sundance. The climax sees our heroes ripping through the streets while hauling behind the aforementioned vault. Storefronts are shattered and dozens of cars are wrecked, crumpled, and flung off the roads. The action isn't all vehicular carnage, there's a fast-paced foot chase over the rooftops of the favelas and a bald-headed alpha male smackdown between Vin Diesel and the ass-kicker formerly known as The Rock. While there is a surprising lack of scantily-clad babes, Gal Gadot does show off her shapely bikini bod as a welcome contrast to all the sweaty beefcake being thrown about. Also added to the mix is Elsa Pataky (wife of Thor himself, Chris Hemsworth) as a rookie cop and the lone officer not on Reyes' payroll.

The acting is exactly what you'd expect as well. Paul Walker continues to be the definition of white bread imbuing O'Connor with a special kind of blandness. Meanwhile, co-star Vin Diesel almost lapses into self-parody as Toretti, a man of few words and even fewer facial expressions. Diesel mostly stands stoically and growls a few curt sentences.

Long-time followers the series may be disappointed to find street racing has taken a backseat for this latest sequel. The drastic change is wholly exemplified when Toretto and O'Connor return to a familiar setting to challenge a local racer. The race is glommed over entirely as the movie cuts to Toretto enjoying his spoils of war. Lin and screenwriter Chris Morgan reach out to a wider audience by turning Fast Five into a heist picture with an Ocean's Eleven-sized ensemble. The almost unwieldy cast isn't the only thing bloated here. Indicative of Hollywood excess, Fast Five stands at two hours and ten minutes, which is about thirty minutes too long for a movie like this. Screen time is padded out by unnecessary and laughable scenes attempting to inject some sort of gravitas and emotional depth to its cardboard characters. Let's face facts; the majority of the audience isn't invested in heartfelt soliloquies about Toretto's search for familial stability or O'Connor's struggle with impending fatherhood. They want to see cars get smashed, smashed real good.

Who would have thought these films would still be kicking around a decade later? Fast Five is easily the best picture in the series, which might sound like a backhanded compliment. The original movie was essentially Point Break with cars, instead of surfboards. The ridiculously named 2 Fast 2 Furious was just Bad Boys-lite and the less said about the direct-to-video level Tokyo Drift, the better. Fast Five more than makes up for the leaden actioner that was the article-less Fast & Furious by offering the simple pleasures of loud, tire-screeching spectacle. Even if it does feel like it was written by a five-year old.

Be sure to stay through the ending credits for an additional scene that serves as a prelude for the inevitable Fast Six.

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

The Other Guys

The Other Guys - Dir. Adam McKay (2010)


Riggs and Murtaugh. Tango and Cash. Add Hoitz and Gamble to the buddy cop pantheon.

The Other Guys opens in true action film fashion with a rousing car chase through the streets of New York City as top cops, Danson (Dwayne Johnson) and Highsmith (Samuel L. Jackson), run down the perpetrators. A massive amount of property damage is done to bring in a few crooks possessing a miniscule amount of marijuana. Back at the station house, Danson and Highsmith are greeted with a hero’s welcome. None of the accolades are thrown the way of Terry Hoitz (Mark Wahlberg) and Allen Gamble (Will Ferrell). They don’t blow shit up, they don’t get the girls, nor do they make the big arrests.

Hoitz could be doing those things, if not for an embarrassing shooting mishap, which relegated him to desk duty. His partner, Gamble, is a forensic accountant who gleefully enjoys paperwork and has no desire to see any action in the field. While investigating a minor oversight in construction permits, Gamble and Hoitz uncover a Bernie Madoff-style plot by millionaire mogul David Ershon (Steve Coogan) to embezzle $32 billion.

The main cast also features Michael Keaton as the precinct captain who moonlights as the manager of a Bed Bath and Beyond, Eva Mendes as Gamble’s inexplicably hot wife, Ray Stevenson as an Australian mercenary, and an uncredited Anne Heche as a corrupt CEO employing Ershon.

The Other Guys is the fourth collaboration between director Adam McKay and Will Ferrell following Anchorman, Talladega Nights and Step Brothers. Other Guys isn’t as hilarious as the first two films, but it’s several notches above the somewhat crass Step Brothers. As a spoof of buddy cop films, it works better than Kevin Smith’s Cop Out. However, the genre has become such a self-parody of itself that McKay is simply beating a dead horse. Seeing Wahlberg in a slow-mo John Woo shootout isn’t as funny as it should be because the gag has been done to death.

Where the film excels is in the interactions between the lead actors. Wahlberg has given some terribly wooden performances recently in The Happening and The Lovely Bones. He’s better suited for action and comedy and he’s excellent as the hotheaded straight man. Ferrell’s idiot man-child routine wears thin so he wisely tones it down for Other Guys. There’s a slow burn for his character as they slowly reveal the darker side he’s hidden.

McKay tops it off with his own brand of absurdist humor displayed in many hysterical gags sprinkled throughout the film. Some of the funniest bits include: Coogan bribing our heroes with tickets to Jersey Boys, a run-in with a group of horny hobos led by a fellow named Dirty Mike (played by McKay himself), an ending credits sequence utilizing Powerpoint-style animation to explain Ponzi schemes and government bailouts, and Ferrell constantly being hit on by gorgeous women like Brooke Shields (wife of co-writer Chris Henchy).

Rating: ***

Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call - New Orleans

Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call - New Orleans - Dir. Werner Herzog (2009)


”It’s my lucky crack pipe. You don’t have a lucky crack pipe?”

Abel Ferrera’s original Bad Lieutenant was a gritty, unflinching portrayal of a corrupt cop with themes of Catholic guilt and uneasy redemption. Harvey Keitel played the unnamed titular character with an uncompromising bravery in depicting the Lieutenant’s disturbing demons. Werner Herzog claims to have not been aware of the original film and his version is neither a remake nor a reboot. The script was written by William M. Finkelstein whose credits include a number of television shows such as L.A. Law, NYPD Blue, Law & Order, and…Cop Rock. Under the unwieldy title of Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call – New Orleans, Herzog crafts a film that isn’t so much disturbing as it is an oddball black comedy hinged around the human medical experiment known as Nicolas Cage.

Cage’s eccentric, idiosyncratic performances have been both lauded and blasted by critics. At his insistence, he ate a live cockroach in Vampire’s Kiss (it was supposed to be a raw egg) and his ”Not the bees!” act in the Wicker Man remake has become popular YouTube fodder. Here, Herzog manages to harness the innate weirdo in Cage into a calculated craziness that is utterly compelling.

”What are these fucking iguanas doing on my coffee table?”

Cage is Terence McDonagh, a police detective in New Orleans shortly after the city was savaged by Hurricane Katrina. During the storms, he rescued (though after much debate) a prisoner trapped in his cell as the water rose dangerously high. McDonagh suffers a back injury that leaves him addicted to painkillers and other drugs. It’s highly doubtful, however, that he was that nice of a guy before the injury. Awarded a medal and promoted to lieutenant, McDonagh is put in charge of a homicide case where a Senegalese family was murdered by local drug dealer Big Fate (rapper Xzibit). When he’s not investigating, McDonagh is stealing narcotics from the evidence room and suffers from addled hallucinations of iguanas. He’s deep in gambling debts and inadvertently pisses off a vengeful mobster. When McDonagh is investigating the case, he strong arms a wheelchair-bound, old lady by cutting off her respirator and waving a .44 Magnum in her face. One night, he rousts a pair of club kids and finds a miniscule amount of drugs on their person. He forces the boyfriend to watch as he smokes crack and bangs his girlfriend on the hood of his unmarked police car.

McDonagh has a high-class prostitute girlfriend, Frankie (Eva Mendes), who he eventually hides out with his father. Dad (Tom Bower) is a recovering alcoholic who lives with his ever-soused wife (Jennifer Coolidge) in a mansion in the woods. On the outside, the home is like something out of a Tennessee Williams play, but inside it has all the dark, gloomy charm of a double-wide trailer.

”Shoot him again. His soul is still dancing.”

Cage is at his bug-eyed best in Bad Lieutenant. He lumbers about in a stooped stride like he’s the love child of Dirty Harry and Quasimodo. His voice sometimes drifts into a high-pitched tone similar to the Pokey-inspired voice Cage put on in Peggy Sue Got Married. McDonagh is an ugly human being perfectly at home in the underbelly of a city still struggling to rebuild following a devastating natural disaster. While Cage goes as over-the-top as he possibly can, he’s balanced out by the understated performances of Eva Mendes, Val Kilmer as a fellow detective, and classic character actor Brad Dourif as McDonagh’s pony-tailed bookie.

Herzog adds a surreal touch to the picture with a reptilian fetish that includes a strange, yet haunting, scene at a traffic accident with a gator lying in the middle of the road with its intestines on the asphalt and a single leg twitching. There’s also an interlude of extreme close-ups of iguanas set to Johnny Adams’ “Release Me.”

Port of Call is at its weakest during the third act. The film’s resolution comes out of left field with its happily-ever-after denouement. Everything seems to end for the better and you keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Is this a happy ending or another one of McDonagh’s crack-induced fever dreams? Honestly, the story is secondary to watching Nic Cage at his Nic Cage-iest.

Rating: ** ½

The Spirit

The Spirit - Dir. Frank Miller (2008)


I wouldn´t presume to know what the late-Will Eisner would think of Frank Miller´s adaptation of his most renowned character. Suffice to say, I´d wager he might have the same befuddled expression on his face as I did as this bizarre concoction unfolded across the screen at my local multiplex.

Eisner is widely considered to be one of the pioneers of the comic book medium. The Spirit began life in 1940 as a Sunday newspaper comic strip. It was part-film noir, part-adventure with dark and lighthearted moments throughout its run. Eisner never dumbed down his creation, aiming for an adult audience. He revolutionized comic composition by freeing the strip from the confines of the typical panels used by other cartoonists. Eisner even coined the term ´graphic novel´ (used so frequently nowadays) to describe his semi-autobiographical book, A Contract with God.

Comic book fans know Frank Miller best for his magnum opus, The Dark Knight Returns, which many list as one of the greatest comics ever written and is mentioned in the same breath as the equally heralded Watchmen (which was released the same year). Miller´s work on Daredevil was largely the basis for the character´s much-maligned feature film while his Batman: Year One was certainly influential on Batman Begins. After a poor experience writing the scripts for Robocop sequels, Miller personally stayed away from Hollywood until Robert Rodriguez called to co-direct the big-screen adaptation of Sin City. Hot on its heels, Miller´s 300 was faithfully recreated by Watchmen director Zack Snyder and met with equal success. So it was only a matter of time before somebody gave Miller a chance to go solo.

Miller considered Eisner a friend and mentor. Conversations between the pair were published in Eisner/Miller, a comic book equivalent to Hitchcock/Truffaut. Miller took on the daunting task of bringing the Spirit to life mostly because he didn´t want somebody else ruining the character. A previous version filmed for television in 1987 was so bad it made Eisner´s "toes curl." From then on, Eisner was staunch in his refusal to allow anyone else to do it again. He rejected proposals to give the titular character superpowers or put him in superhero tights. Miller vowed to remain faithful and was even going to title the film, "Will Eisner´s The Spirit." I have no idea what changed his mind, but this is "Frank Miller´s The Spirit" all the way.

Our hero, played by Gabriel Macht, is Denny Colt, a beat cop who is gunned down, but somehow comes back to life. In the comics, Colt allowed everyone to still believe he was dead and adopted the alter-ego of the Spirit. He put on a blue three-piece suit, matching fedora, and a domino mask in order to fight crime in Central City. His origin remains mostly the same except he wears all black with a blood red tie. The Spirit´s arch-enemy is the Octopus, a mysterious crime boss whose face was never revealed in the strips. He was only recognized by a pair of purple gloves with yellow stripes. Here, he´s Samuel L. Jackson who wears a variety of outlandish outfits in his attempts to conquer the world. He constantly talks about eggs for some reason. Don´t ask. Oh, have I mentioned both men are invincible? Through some sort of cockamamie science project, the Spirit and the Octopus are rendered virtually indestructible. This is evidenced at the start of the film when the two engage in a one-on-one fistfight that´s usually saved for the climax. It isn´t just a fight, but a Looney Tunes horror show as the Spirit punches the Octopus in the face about two dozen times to no effect. They smash each other with several large objects including (literally) the kitchen sink. The battle culminates in the Octopus braining the Spirit with a toilet, then gleefully cackles, "C´mon, toilets are ALWAYS funny!"

This one fight largely sums up just about everything that is wrong with this picture. First off, any sort of suspense the audience might have is killed off because we know neither lead can be. Uh-oh, the Spirit just got pushed out a window. No worries, he can´t be killed. He just got stabbed with a sword? Riddled by a machine gun? The Spirit just shakes it off. Secondly, the fight runs far too long and the same can be said for the majority of the film. Some people love to hear the sound of their own voice. Frank Miller seems to be a man who loves to hear actors speak his lines. He packs in tons of dialogue leading to an overly talky film. Scenes and conversations go on and on with no point whatsoever. One minute, the Spirit is delivering a gruff, hard-boiled voice-over in the vein of Raymond Chandler, the next, he´s bantering with his colleagues in the style of a screwball comedy. Miller never seems to make up his mind whether he wants The Spirit to be a dark film noir, a frothy adventure or a campy comedy.

The film´s most infamous moment comes when the Spirit is captured and tied to a dentist´s chair, ready for torture. The Octopus emerges from behind a red curtain dressed in a Nazi officer´s uniform replete with monocle. There´s Nazi paraphernalia everywhere and the set looks like a commedia dell´arte remake of Triumph of the Will. It´s almost amusing in a WTF kind of way, but Miller drags the proceedings beyond the point of tolerance as the Octopus commits the cardinal super-villain sin. He monologues. Yes, this is the point in the movie where the bad guy reveals his origins and his detailed plans for world domination. I kept waiting for those folks from Monty Python and the Holy Grail to show up and scream, "Get on with it!" Ironically, the Spirit remarks that he's just plain "bored" by his nemesis. So am I, Spirit. So am I.

The crux of the story revolves around the Octopus´s endeavors to acquire the Blood of Herakles which will complete his transformation to immortality. By the time it´s all revealed, the audience has long since stopped caring. At least, there´s plenty of eye candy for the men. Miller has shown he has a strong predilection for sultry vixens and he makes sure there´s a wide assortment of beautiful ladies, each one falling head over heels for the masked protagonist. At the head of the class is Sand Saref (Eva Mendes), a world-class thief and the childhood sweetheart of the Spirit. However, the Spirit´s heart seems to belong to Ellen Dolan (Sarah Paulson), a doctor and daughter of the police commissioner (Dan Lauria). She´s the only good girl in the film. There´s Morgenstern (Stana Katic), an eager and earnest rookie cop. Working for the other side of the law are the Octopus´s girl Friday, Silken Floss (Scarlett Johansson), and a dagger throwing belly dancer assassin named Plaster of Paris (Paz Vega). Finally, Jaime King appears in several interludes as the spectral siren, Lorelei Rox.

The ensemble cast also includes an army of dim-witted clones (each played by Louis Lombardi) who serve as the Octopus´s henchmen. These goofs are like something out of Batman. I'm not talking about the Christopher Nolan version or the Tim Burton incarnation, but the cartoonish Adam West series. Remember when the Joker would show up with goons adorned in black shirts with names like ´Tee-Hee,´ ´Ha-Ha,´ and ´Ho-Ho´? Well, these guys have names like ´Phobos,´ ´Nervos,´ and even ´Huevos´ and ´Rancheros.´ I´d call them comic relief, except I didn´t find them to be funny at all.

Miller uses the same green screen techniques from Sin City to create a stylish world cut from the same cloth. He highlights bright colors, such as red, and sprinkles in silhouette shots. Taken individually, they look great, but there´s no flow from scene to scene, especially during action sequences. It looks like they strung together a bunch of comic book panels without bothering to create transitions in between.

The acting is all over the place. Some actors seem to take the film seriously while others just ham it up. Jackson chews through his scenes like a piranha and normally that´s entertaining enough, but (just like his director) he´s just far too excessive for his own good and working with such flat dialogue didn´t help. As the lead, Macht is far too bland to really be effective as the square-jawed hero. Sarah Paulson is the only actor in the entire movie that plays their character as an actual human being.

2008 was a big year for comic book films. They started out strong then fizzled out as time progressed. Iron Man and The Dark Knight were both faithful translations and did gangbusters at the box office. Wanted wasn't quite as faithful to the source material, but was still a fun action flick. By year´s end, fanboys only got lackluster efforts like Punisher: War Zone and The Spirit.

I would have been fine with Frank Miller turning The Spirit into a spin-off of Sin City. It wouldn't have bothered me too much if he decided to do the movie as a tongue-in-cheek camp cartoon. I just wished Miller would have made up his mind. The Spirit suffers from an inconsistent tone and a complete lack of direction. The film goes nowhere fast and comes off as a self-indulgent exercise of unrestrained lunacy.

Rating: * 1/2