ENDER’S Big Screen Video GAME

Now playing at a multiplex near you:

ENDER’S GAME (Dir. Gavin Hood, 2013)

Two things I’m not going to do: compare this film to Orson Scott Card’s original 1985 novel, and recount the controversy over the author’s outspoken hatred of homosexuals. This is because I haven’t read the book, and the views of Card, who hails from my home state North Carolina, are well documented on these internets, as are the calls within the LGBT community to boycott the movie.

As its #1 at the box office (take that, boycott!), audiences have found what I found out when attending an advance screening last week - Gavin Hood’s ENDER’S GAME is, simply put, a rock solid sci-fi flick.



It’s also one of the most successful attempts to make a big screen video game vividly come alive, something that Hollywood has been trying to do since the early ‘80s in movies like TRON and THE LAST STARFIGHTER. Here, the tried and true premise of kids’ gaming skills being put to the test in actual intergalactic combat fully envelops the viewer like never before, largely thanks to its lavish IMAX scope.

Set in the year 2086, in which Earth has been attacked by an alien race called the “Formics” (they were called “Buggers” in the book, but that could be seen as an anti-gay slur), and the International Fleet is training a bunch of young cadets via intense simulations and drills to be able to fight off the next invasion. The star pupil, Ender Wiggin (the brilliant Asa Butterfield from HUGO), is recruited by Colonel Hyrum Graff (Harrison Ford) and Major Anderson (Viola Davis, always making the most out of supporting roles) to attend Battle School, located on an elaborate space station orbiting the earth.

War game after war game goes by, with Butterfield sharpening his skills under Ford’s tutelage. Man, there is a lot of over serious strategizing, and military minded mumbo jumbo, but Hood, who adapted Card’s novel for the film’s screenplay, keeps it all moving with an entertaining precision aided by sparkling visuals.

Hailee Steinfeld (TRUE GRIT) puts in a poignant performance as one of Butterfield’s classmates who becomes his best friend and ally, while Moisés Arias (KINGS OF SUMMER) affectively flares his nostrils as a pint sized adversary along the way to the inevitably climatic battle simulation, which houses the film’s big thematic fake-out.

In what will likely become his fourth major franchise, Ford tops his almost unrecognizable role in Brian Helgeland’s Jackie Robinson biopic 42 earlier this year, by showing he can give a damn again as the gruff Graff. Ford’s iconic presence is one that Butterfield’s Ender and audiences trust, bringing a stately gravitas to his overseer position, and it’s enjoyable to see him act alongside Sir Ben Kingsley in a brief bit as half-Maori war legend Mazer Rackham sporting a pretty prominent face tattoo.

Despite growing up on STAR WARS and Star Trek, I don’t consider myself a sci-fi guy, and I’m certainly not a gamer, but ENDER’S GAME kept me interested with its neat narrative and absorbing sense of purpose. Anyone who’s felt the competition in the air of a locker room can attest to the tone that this film nails. It also deftly captures the coming-of-age realization of how manipulative the world of adulthood can be. 

Now, these are pretty fancy themes indeed to be embedded inside a film that could just function as eye candy. Hood’s adaptation of Card’s creation succeeds in being a big screen video game with a brain.

More later...

IRON MAN 3: The Film Babble Blog Review

Opening today at just about every multiplex in North America: 

IRON MAN 3 (Dir. Shane Black, 2013) 

Shane Black, best known for writing such action hits as LETHAL WEAPON and THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT, delivers a vast improvement over Jon Favreau’s IRON MAN 2 in this big-ass third installment of the series that features Robert Downey Jr.’s sharpest, and funniest, performance as the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist Tony Stark yet.



There are possibly more laughs (most of them from Downey Jr.-delivered one-liners) than there are thrills throughout, but the centerpiece sequence of Stark’s ultra-modern Malibu cliff-side house being destroyed by missile-firing attack helicopters puts the humor on hold for an armrest-gripping eye-popping experience of major proportions.

But onto the plot: Downey Jr.’s Stark, sleepless for months and still shaken from events in last summer’s Marvel smash THE AVENGERS, via opening narration takes us back to a New Year’s Eve in 1999 in Switzerland when he had a fling with a beautiful botanist (Rebecca Hall), and drunkenly disregarded a shaggy Guy Pearce as a scientist who wanted to work with him.

Pearce, of course, comes back to bite Downey Jr. in the ass in the present day as a slicked back charmer of a villain who wants to own the war on terror via a super-soldier virus that Hall's character developed.

Jon Favreau, not letting not directing get in the way of reprising his role as Stark’s bodyguard turned head of security, senses Pearce is a threat, mainly because he’s flirting with Gynneth Paltrow, who returns as Downey Jr.’s girlfriend/Stark Industries CEO Pepper Potts.

While trailing one of Pearce’s thugs (James Badge Dale), Favreau gets injured in a bombing, one of many brought about by the mysterious Mandarin (Ben Kingsley), the leader of the international terrorist organization The Ten Rings, who has the power to interrupt major network broadcasts to make his menacing threats to all of America.

Downey Jr. then makes a threat of his own right into a reporter’s camera phone for the Mandarin to bring the fight to him, and even leaves his home address. This results in the before mentioned incredible destruction of Stark’s homestead, in which the CGI crew members (of which there are thousands – check the credits) really outdid themselves on.

The rest deals with Downey Jr. rebuilding his Iron Man suit (and some of his soul) with the help of a kid (Ty Simpkins) he meets while doing some sleuthing in Tennessee, tracking down the bad guys in Florida for some shoot-outs (I love one moment when a hired thug yells: “Honestly, I hate working for these guys. They’re so weird!” So Downey Jr. lets him go), and another stunner of a scene in which Downey Jr. and Don Cheadle (also back for more as Colonel James Rhoades/the Iron Patriot) race to save the lives of the President (William Sadler) and 14 other passengers from a crashing Air Force One.

Cheadle, who does strong work and at times is as funny as Downey Jr., is largely absent from the film until the third act, which mainly involves a nighttime battle on an oil rig. 



The second half of IRON MAN 3 can be a bit overstuffed with spectacle at times and a few twists don't have the intended impact, but there are some warm moments involving Downey Jr.’s amusing bantering with Simpkins (was so glad he didn’t let the kid tag along for the remainder of the movie though), and affecting bits where we get a window into the darkness behind the snark of Tony Stark.



The way the villains' scenario with Pearce and Kingsley both showing their true colors worked more for Pearce, who got more and more intense, than Kingsley who got a bit too goofy, but to say anything more would be Spoiler City.

As in THE AVENGERS, the Marvel movie formula is in full swing here with all the expected yet welcome elements - Stan Lee cameo, stinger after the end credits, shout-outs to previous adventures, etc - but what makes IRON MAN 3 really pop is Black’s deft handling of the characters and the action set-pieces through his and co-writer Drew Pearce's quick-witted screenplay. Wasn’t really a fan of his previous film, Black’s glibly meta directorial debut KISS KISS BANG BANG, but his amped-up approach feels dead on in this film.

I’ve seen some cinephiles complain online about the glut of superhero movies, but if every now and then, we can get ones as smart, funny, and thrilling as IRON MAN 3, I won’t be complaining.

Oh yeah, the 3D didn’t make much difference – some shots were slightly enhanced early on but I largely forgot about it most of the film. However, you do get some specially made IRON MAN 3D glasses (I saw several different types at the screening I attended) so that might sway you.

More later...

THE DICTATOR: The Film Babble Blog Review

THE DICTATOR (Dir. Larry Charles, 2012)

In their newest film, Sacha Baron Cohen and director Larry Charles don’t push the envelope; they poop all over it.

Discarding the mockumentary format of their previous films, BORAT and BRÜNO, THE DICTATOR tells the story of Supreme Leader Aladeen, the rude crude ruler of the fictional North African nation of Wadiya.

We’ve seen the likes of this kind of character before - a power-mad tyrant who has anybody who disagrees with him killed - so many of the punch-lines are predictable, but Baron Cohen energetically milks every possible comic possibility available, and succeeds about half the time with getting laughs.

The other half of the time is extremely cringe-worthy. Disgusting bodily humor, gratuitous nudity (do we always have to see Baron Cohen’s junk?), and cheap smarmy dialogue (Baron Cohen calls co-star Anna Faris “Justin Bieber's chubby double” among other monikers), dominate THE DICTATOR, suggesting that its target audience is still in grade school.

After its setup in which Baron Cohen gets kidnapped and shaved (by a hitman played by John C. Reilly of all people) upon arriving in New York City, the movie largely becomes a fish-out-of-water premise. The dictator’s scheming uncle (Ben Kingsley!) replaces him with a dumb double (also Baron Cohen), so he bides his time working in Faris’s vegan food store, waiting for his chance to reclaim his title. So we get a lot of crass gags that the film makers really over sell. Especially when the movie riffs on rape jokes.

As Baron Cohen’s ally, Jason Mantzoukas has one of the most grounded roles, and some of the funniest parts are the bickering exchanges between the 2 characters.

With its mericifully brief 83 minute running time, THE DICTATOR moves fast from laugh to cringe, is cluttered with cameos (look for Megan Fox, Garry Shandling, various Saturday Night Live folks, etc.), and it has the right comedic spirit.

If only those appealing factors weren't overridden by the film's high quotient of gross-out groaners.

Baron Cohen's climatic U.N. speech would've had so much more satirical power had it not been surrounded by such juvenille scatalogical shenanigans. But then, these guys are, of course, more into poop jokes than making a pointed political parody - something THE DICTATOR would never be confused with.

More later...

Martin Scorsese's Amazing First Foray Into 3D

HUGO (Dir. Martin Scorsese, 2011)

As I've reported many times, I'm not a fan of the current 3D trend. I've found it to be a headache inducing gimmick that gets in the way of, rather than enhances, the movie-going experience.



However, I was still incredibly eager to see what master film maker Martin Scorsese could do with the format, so I put my bias aside and happily donned the glasses to take in his grand adaptation of Brian Selznick's 2007 novel "The Invention of Hugo Cabret."



I was delighted from start to finish, as Scorsese's HUGO is an amazing experience in the third dimension.



Asa Butterfield portrays the title character, a 13 year old Parisian orphan who lives inside the walls of the Gare Montparnasse train station in the early 1930s. While not maintaining the station's many clocks, Butterfield spies on a toy stand run by the cold Ben Kingsley.



Butterfield is trying to finish building an automaton (a mechanical man) that his father (Jude Law) was working on before he death. Kingsley catches Butterfield stealing parts from his stand, and confiscates his father's notebook filled with important instructions.



While attempting to get the notebook back, Butterfield befriend's Kingsley's goddaughter (Chloë Grace Moretz), who happens to have a heart-shaped key that perfectly fits the automaton's key hole.



To maneuver through the mysteries of the movie, Butterfield gets help from Moretz, a wise old bookshop owner (the great Christopher Lee), and as a kind film historian (Michael Stahlberg), all while staying one step ahead of a bumbling station inspector (Sasha Baron Cohen who has just the right light comical approach to what could've been a standard fool on the sidelines role).



Butterfield learns that Kingsley is the legendary French film maker Georges Méliès, whose technical innovations in the art of movie production had folks dubbing him the world's first "Cinemagician."



There is certainly a lot of cinemagic on display in Hugo. From the inner workings of the train station's clocks, to the depth of details making up the Paris surroundings, there are a wealth of intoxicating visuals.



However, what's really stunning about HUGO is how touchingly personal a film it is. Scorsese successfully recreates the sense of wonder that he felt as a kid in the audience of a Brooklyn movie palace, with his love of movie magic culminating in a breathtaking mixture of original Méliès footage, and wondrously faithful re-creations.



Scorsese's first family film (indeed his first PG-rated film in almost 20 years) contains the best use of 3D imagery I've see yet, but it's such a work of overwhelming beauty that it would still be fantastic in 2D.



As the film's wide-eyed protagonist, Butterfield brings a lot of infectious spirit which is charmingly complimented by Moretz's precocious pluck. The subtle power of Kingsley's presence is also nicely matched with the poignancy of Helen McCrory as his wife who was once an actress in his films.



A cinematic love letter from one master to another, this film is as deserving of your ticket money as it is another Best Picture Oscar for Scorsese (Robert Richards' cinematography deserves an Academy Award too).



HUGO is one from the heart that will go down in history.



More later...