Olympus Has Fallen

Olympus Has Fallen - Dir. Antoine Fuqua (2013)

In 1997, a small town in the Pacific Northwest and the city of Los Angeles were threatened by the sudden eruption of volcanoes in Dante's Peak and Volcano. A year later, the Earth is nearly destroyed by two cataclysmic asteroids in Deep Impact and Armageddon. In 2013, the White House is in jeopardy not once, but twice. Roland Emmerich will direct Channing Tatum and Jamie Foxx in White House Down, which will be released in June by Sony. Meanwhile, Millennium Films and FilmDistrict have beaten them to the punch with Olympus Has Fallen.

One snowy night, President Benjamin Asher (Aaron Eckhart) is on his way to a Christmas fundraiser when an accident causes his limo to swerve off a bridge. Secret Service Agent Mike Banning (Gerard Butler) saves the President's life, but is unable to save the First Lady (Ashley Judd). Over a year later, Banning is still haunted by his failure and exiled to a desk job at the Treasury Department. He races back into action when the nation's capital is attacked during a meeting between President Asher and the South Korean Prime Minister. In the film's most gripping and prolonged set piece, a cargo plane outfitted with Gatling guns literally causes monumental destruction. Not since Earth vs. the Flying Saucers has the Washington Monument suffered such damage. Garbage trucks doubling as armored vehicles roll up Pennsylvania Avenue while a blitzkrieg of armed assailants (disguised as tourists) breach the White House lawn killing dozens of security personnel and police responders. The ringleader is Kang (Rick Yune), a wanted terrorist who has infiltrated the South Korean government. He takes the President, V.P. (Phil Austin), Secretary of Defense (Melissa Leo), and other key members of staff hostage inside an underground bunker. Of course, there's only one man who can save them…Mike Banning.

If the plot sounds familiar, it's because Olympus Has Fallen is yet another graduate from the school of Die Hard with the White House standing in for Nakatomi Plaza. The similarities are so prominent and frequent that screenwriters Creighton Rothenberger and Katrin Benedikt (in their first credit) could be charged with outright plagiarism. Gerard Butler leaps off an exploding rooftop while a helicopter crashes behind him. He also taunts the villain over radio with tired one-liners ("Let's play a game of fuck off. You go first."). There's a scene where Banning bumps into one of the bad guys who pretends to be a frightened good guy. Banning's warnings against a foolhardy attempt at breaching the terrorists' defenses fall on deaf ears. Not to mention In the Line of Fire already did the Secret Service agent in search of redemption to greater effect.

Realizing the inherently silly nature of their film, the producers have loaded their supporting cast with actors who can effortlessly convey dramatic gravitas. The obligatory command center scenes feature Angela Bassett as the head of Secret Service and Morgan Freeman as the Speaker of the House now the acting president. Robert Forster portrays a hard-assed general who fills the role of Deputy Police Chief Dwayne T. Robinson. Dylan McDermott makes a scenery chewing appearance as a turncoat agent though Rick Yune fails to lend anything memorable as the lead villain. Radha Mitchell gets a rather thankless role as Banning's worried wife. Aaron Eckhart is perfectly cast as the defiant authority figure and it's nice to see Gerard Butler in an action flick after doing so many terrible romantic comedies.

Antoine Fuqua is a solid action director, but aside from the opening salvo on D.C., there are not a lot of spectacular sequences. The majority of the film takes place inside a darkened White House, one that's so dark that you can hardly see any of the fights or shootouts. The darkness may have been to just hide the poor choreography or subpar CGI.

Olympus shamelessly exploits post-9/11 anxiety and xenophobia. Some viewers will be turned off at watching an airplane crash into a landmark as debris crushes people below it. The movie tries to have its cake and eat it too with terrorists that are clearly North Korean while straining to portray them as having no allegiance. These themes are only re-enforced by an overblown "America, Fuck Yeah," attitude, including one character defiantly reciting the Pledge of Allegiance as they are dragged and beaten.

Olympus Has Fallen plays as mindless, red meat entertainment in spite of its queasy politics and thoroughly derivative script right down to a climatic countdown in massive, bold numbers. Although it's a blatant knockoff, Olympus is actually more enjoyable than the latest Die Hard sequel.

Rating: ** (*****)

The Descendants

The Descendants - Dir. Alexander Payne (2011)

Alexander Payne has a knack for spinning tales about middle age malaise and disillusionment. His high school comedy, Election, followed Matthew Broderick as a failed variation of Ferris Bueller desperately trying to sabotage the campaign efforts of Type A personality Tracy Flick (played by Reese Witherspoon). In Sideways, Payne followed Paul Giamatti as a stagnant writer confronting his own misery and loneliness on a trip through wine country with his adulterous best friend. Payne pushed these themes even further with what may be his best work yet in About Schmidt, he showed that things don't get any easier during the twilight years. And they don't get better in the idyllic island of Hawaii, according to The Descendants, Payne's newest film based on the novel by Kaui Hart Hemmings and adapted by Payne, Nat Faxon, and Jim Rash, who plays Dean Pelton on NBC's Community.

George Clooney stars as the appropriately named Matt King, a lawyer whose family is descended from King Kamehameha and the first white settlers in the fiftieth state. They own one of the largest tracts of unspoiled land in Hawaii and Matt must ultimately decide on its fate. Most of his cousins (headed up by Beau Bridges) are pushing for a lucrative deal with a local developer while others prefer not to sell. This sandy beach property is the least of Matt's problems.

His wife, Elizabeth (Patricia Hastie), has been left in a vegetative coma following a tragic water skiing accident. The doctors inform Matt that Elizabeth will not improve and they must honor her living will by removing her from life support. A self-described "back-up parent," Matt is forced to deal with two daughters he has absolutely no way of connecting with. His youngest, Scottie (Amara Miller), has eccentric tendencies and constantly curses. His eldest, Alexandra (Shailene Woodley), is a defiant teenager sent off to boarding school to curb her wild ways. Alexandra confesses to her oblivious father that mom was cheating on him. A road trip to inform family and friends about Elizabeth's impending death becomes a cathartic search as Matt and Alexandra look to confront her lover, a real estate agent named Brian Speer (Matthew Lillard).

The Descendants depicts a different side of Hawaii from the picturesque tourist traps seen on Hawaii Five-0. Payne prefers sterile office buildings and languid suburban neighborhoods to white sands and tiki torches. He sets the mood in the opening voice-over narration in which George Clooney declares, "Paradise can go fuck itself." Just as he defies our expectations of the locales, Payne also defies our expectations of certain characters and standard situations. Tagging along with the King family is Alexandra's friend, Sid (Nick Krause), a mish-mash of every stoner and sun-baked surfer stereotype imaginable. Yet, he turns out to not be as dumb as everyone thinks and shares a rather profound moment with Matt.

As the lead character, Clooney carries a heavy amount of baggage. He is George Clooney, after all. He can't play a sad sack that way Paul Giamatti or Philip Seymour Hoffman can, but Clooney brings an aura of weariness to the role that recalls his performance in Up in the Air. It's unfortunate that his character is so underwritten and overshadowed by the supporting characters. Clooney's young co-stars, Shailene Woodley (from ABC Family's The Secret Life of the American Teenager) and Amara Miller are both good while the usually comedic Judy Greer gets to stretch her dramatic muscles as Brian's oblivious wife. But, it is Robert Forster who commands the film as Matt's father-in-law, an ornery old timer, who lambastes Matt and Alexandra while overlooking (either knowingly or unknowingly) his own daughter's infidelity.

The weakest element of The Descendants is the superfluous narration that bogs down the first act and trails off as the movie progresses. The narration serves purely to explain emotions and subplots that are exceedingly apparent to the audience.

Visually, The Descendants represents a high point for Alexander Payne as a director. It's undoubtedly his best looking and most maturely handled work as a filmmaker. Payne does his usual blend of tear jerking drama, low-key humor and broadly played comedy. Yet, The Descendants stands as one of Payne's lesser pictures, one that isn't nearly as compelling as Election, About Schmidt or Sideways. It's a middle of the road crowd pleaser sure to impress the easily wowed awards voters.

Rating: ** ½ (*****)

Ghosts of Girlfriends Past

Ghosts of Girlfriends Past - Dir. Mark Waters (2009)

Please understand I only saw this damn movie because I promised to take my sister to see it. I did not go to this fucking film of my own volition.

Matthew McConaughey showed promise once. He had a memorable turn as stoner David Wooderson in Richard Linklater’s Dazed and Confused. He had another strong performance as a small town sheriff in John Sayles’ Lone Star. Since then, McConaughey has been content to coast on his good looks, insufferable smirk, and Southwestern drawl through one god-awful picture after another. His most recent efforts include the festering turds that were Fool’s Gold and Surfer, Dude. At least he seemed to have some fun with his image in Tropic Thunder as Ben Stiller’s agent, a role originally meant for Owen Wilson.

McConaughey headlines yet another romantic comedy, playing up the cocky man-whore character that studios seem to believe audiences will flock to. This time around he stars as Connor Mead, a superstar photographer, in this modern day take on Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. In the film’s opening moments, we immediately learn the depths of Mead’s douchebaggery. He strips a girl’s clothes off then has an archer shoot an apple off her head with a bow & arrow for a magazine cover, all without her consent. Mead STILL manages to worm his way into her panties even while he’s dumping three other girlfriends during a webcam conference call.

He returns home for his younger brother Paul’s (Breckin Meyer) wedding and is reunited with childhood friend Jenny Perotti (Jennifer Garner). There’s plenty of sexual tension between the two and an obvious flame carried by both, though neither would admit to it. After a few drinks, Mead spews some rhetoric condemning the concept of love and the institution of marriage. While taking a leak, he’s visited by the ghost of his late Uncle Walt, a loathsome lothario, played wonderfully by Michael Douglas as a cross between Hugh Hefner and Robert Evans. Uncle Walt is the Jacob Marley of the picture and warns Mead that he’ll be visited by three ghosts in order to save him from his loveless life of one-night stands. During one ghostly visit, we get a glimpse of the Walt Chamberlain level of boning Mead has devoted his life to as he sees every single woman he ever slept with. Taking into account the law of averages, it's a miracle he hasn't caught herpes, genital warts or even a bad case of the crabs.

Of course, Mead’s playboy image is a mask to hide his insecurities and fear of being hurt. We get the obligatory fight between the leads even though they’ll wind up in the end. It’s all so formulaic that I wonder if there were actual screenwriters typing this out or if they didn’t just cut and paste it from a bunch of other scripts. Looking at their credits on IMDB, writers Jon Lucas & Scott Moore were also involved in the stinkfest known as Four Christmases. So we have another cinematic abortion to blame them for.

Girlfriends Past isn’t a total loss. Jennifer Garner does her best even if her character is bogged down by uninventive and unconvincing displays of wit. Miss Garner does deserve better than to be trapped in the hell that is the female lead in every romantic comedy (AKA Meg Ryan). The film is saved by Douglas and another pair of funny supporting performances. The first from Emma Stone as the nerdy ghost of girlfriends past and the second by Robert Forster as a retired military man and father of the bride.

Rating: * 1/2