Godzilla Minus One (2023) Film Thoughts

Confession: Since his earliest works in the form of Juvenile(2000), and RETURNER(2002), director Takashi Yamazaki hasn't been one I could easily connect with as he has steadily advanced his visual effects craft intermingled with almost relentlessly bland popcorn sensibilities (emphasis on the corn). So when I say that Godzilla Minus Zero might very well be his commercial and artistic magnum opus, it comes from a very mileage-may-vary personal bar.

And as cool as it is to see his take on Big G find itself taking place earlier than in the 1954 classic, it becomes especially suspect when it seeks to whole hog function as a stark counterpoint to Hideaki Anno's more nationalistic bent in his grand scale Tokyo stomper from a few years back. By allowing the calamity to play out in the wake of the fresh end of WWII allows the veterans of that conflict another chance to litigate the ending of it, the film takes on a strange, occasionally side-eye inducing air that seems to imply that it might be more prudent to allow citizens to determine the end of the war, as well as pave the path toward a future, which on the surface feels well-intentioned. But having a 1946 without much to any physical sign of US occupation makes for a strange erasing of history along with the events of the original Honda film.

In its bold new choice of time period, the film posits the promise of food for thought, though I'm not sure every needle is threaded outside of the need for the everyperson to have a say in charting new courses.

Making average people the focus this time, is certainly welcome enough. The cast tends to be more than game in this genre that the seasoned blockbuster director has established for just over two decades now. Even as Yamazaki refuses to draw outside the lines of this particular brand of Japanese genre silliness complete with requisite stagey overacting, and attempts at rousing moments of collaboration and improvisation against a virtually unstoppable force, there is enough detail and charm here to make up for what he never seems to be up for doing. - which is to allow the film’s humanity to genuinely breathe in the temerity of this new, horrifying, and ultimately devastating tragedy. And while this may sound harsh, it simply is his brand that has never been something to fully connect with me beyond simple entertainment. In an era of almost uncanny levels of visual wizardry it would just be nice if he allowed his films to possess more emotional backbone beyond the occasional visual grace note. (Of which one at the halfway point left me unable to catch my breath for several seconds. It’s a truly powerful visual gut punch that must be seen on a large screen.)

Which is to say that the action is probably as great as it could possibly be for a project of this scale. And on that level, Minus One excels. What we get here may not rival the original for sheer, real world invading pathos, but it does offer up plenty of jaw-dropping fun with thrills to spare.

There's much to enjoy here, but I might need that much more raw heft and unfettered sincerity to push it over the top. As it is, it's a fascinating diversion as the kaiju genre experiences something of a global surge.

Pacific Rim: Uprising - Film Thoughts

There's just something about reheated leftovers that satisfy in spite of everything. Sure, it's not the fresh, delicious experience it might have been the night before. But with a hangover the morning after, and a beer at your side, the sensation of something reliable in the stead of rummaging potentially miles away while your head continues to pound, is unmistakable. Which is precisely what comes to mind when thinking of Steven E. DeKnight's return to the Drift, Kaiju, and Jaegers with Pacific Rim: Uprising. A sequel noone really needed, and yet hits the spot despite the possible damage in store for your insides. If Guillermo Del Toro's initial foray into the world of tokusatsu action is the filet mignon of eastern pop culture hybrids, then Uprising is that magnificent slice of 7am pizza.

2030: It's been a decade since the combined forces of Earth triumphed over a devastating invasion of giant monsters under the control of an unseen enemy beneath the planet's surface. Those who have lived in the years of peace that ensued, have continued to rebuild, and occasionally benefit from the riches inherent in this newly reconfigured world. Among these reaping the benefits of this newfound hidden market, is Jake Pentecost(John Boyega), the long adrift son of kaiju war legend, Stacker Pentecost. Once seen as a more than capable legacy, his life has found itself living from scrapyard to scrapyard, occasionally scamming other nefarious characters with his innate knowledge of Jaeger tech. It is on one of these runs that he is outfoxed by a young and capable scrapper, Amara(Cailee Spaeni) who has long been doing similar in the name of creating her own pilot-capable robot in hopes of anticipating future kaiju conflict. Naturally, the pair are caught by the government during a squabble, where we catch up with Jake's troubled relationship with his former life while big sister, Mako Mori(A more than welcome Rinko Kikuchi) urges him to return to the forces in the name of training a group of young recruits. Figuring this option is better than prison, Jake accepts.

This is while Shao Industries, a chinese megacorp, unveils designs for a newly configured drone program which threatens to render classic Jaeger pilots obsolete. Working alongside Shao CEO Liwen Shao(Jing Tian), we have a now "rock star" Newt Geisler(Charlie Day returns!), who while struggling with his mandarin, seems ready to ignore lessons of the past in the name of his newfound status. And with the upcoming public unveiling of this new program, the world is blindsided by the appearance of a rogue Jaeger. An event that not only brings about untold devastation, but solidifies the resolve of Jake and crew to both solve the mystery of this new threat, and possibly come face to face with an old adversary. 

On its face, Uprising offers very little in the way of newness to the proceedings. We do have a more scrappy, on the ground, handheld quality to the visuals that double down on the lived-in aspect of the universe. It's a more meat and potatoes approach to something that was once quite studied and sensually articulate. It's certainly not a novel approach. One could say that this is the stylistic gulf between ALIEN and ALIENS, and yet both work respectively. As to whether or not this works in a similar fashion, I leave it to history. But the proceedings here are much more street level and less staged than the last go-round. Which at times works. But what is missed in the maelstrom(Original title- had to do it), is the sense of sheer weight, and emotional stakes that the first carried with a disarming amount of sincerity. DeKnight, and company do their level best, but it often finds itself far too often in a rush to get to the next skirmish. By the time we're at the Battle For Fujisan, I found myself almost completely tapped out. Like a good race, there's value to be found in a good sequence of pauses. Something the producers of Pacific Rim: Uprising see little value in apparently.

Again, there are enchantments to be had in this grand scale Saturday Morning cartoon. Many of them humming beneath the surface. And while it isn't as articulate as it could be, the first film's themes of empathy and ecological consciousness, have been traded in for an on point tribute to the pluralistic youth that stands in the way of an encroaching invasion from within. From the ashes of an old enemy now infecting the increasingly digitized present, the film posits that hope resides in the children who have grown up in the shadow of war and corruption. They are familiar with the failings of their elders, and are more comfortable with the terrain. So when it's revealed that even our trusted friends come with blind spots that render them ripe for the weaponizing, it's up to an unusual set of alliances to alter course. There's also the presence of Scott Eastwood, as Jake's former Jaeger partner, Nate, who frighteningly resembles his dad in his 1960s heyday. - It is utterly uncanny. But it's really about Boyega, who continues to shine as a hopelessly likeable underdog.

The production and beyond, remains as solid as the original, but in no way as elegant. And I suppose this is to be expected. More battles in broad daylight, not to mention an at times galling amount of collateral damage may make or break some. DeKnight's previous work includes season one of Marvel's DAREDEVIL, which shows in his penchant for loose camera work, and occasionally diffuse lighting. The impetus here, is that we've already been well introduced to this world. The garden, and expo center part of the fair is over, it's time for the carnival midway. And this is where Pacific Rim: Uprising may or may not work for some. But damn, if that morning pizza isn't delicious in the moment. It may not be good for you, but since when was most anime ever good for you?

Annhilation(2018) Film Thoughts

Two thirds into Alex Garland's large studio debut features the conspicuous appearance of Rebecca Skloot's novel, The Immortal Life Of Henrietta Lacks. A remarkable document of how one's genetics helped provide the impetus for developments beyond what was thought possible with oncological research. A dive into how diversity serves to better alter the genetic landscape. Not unlike race politics in America, the story of genetics and medical science's role in understanding manners of societal change, remain an integral part of the nation's grander story. And in utilizing the initial book in Jeff VanderMeer's Southern Reach trilogy, it isn't too far a reach to consider the role of America's story in the telling of modern America, and it's reckoning with the natural changes only humans seem primed to ignore. 

Debriefed behind glass by a number of men in hazmat suits, cellular biologist and professor, Lena(Natalie Portman), finds herself unable to properly account for a great deal of lost time after being retrieved. Only certain details remain, but a sense of missing time persists as she is asked to recall what she knows prior to being found. She is also asked about a party of people she has been in the company of, but can offer very little as to what happened.

Prior to all of this, Lena had long been living quietly in the shadow of deep loss due to the disappearance of her husband. Relegating weekends toward repainting her bedroom aimlessly, as if one year since her military life and love prior to her educator one continues to exist within an inert cycle. Cohorts, cannot seem to reach her. The loss of Kane, a soldier last assigned to a classified post so secret, that even he could't grant much of a hint to her beyond hemisphere. Still haunted by these memories, matters suddenly take a jarring turn when he seemingly returns, and doesn't seem to be quite alright.

It isn't long before Lena and Kane are brought into a top secret military installation, where the husband is now in an unstable condition due to organ failure. Lena, desperate for answers meets the secretive Dr. Ventress (Jennifer Jason Leigh), who explains to her that what has happened to her husband is something just outside the compound that defies scientific explanation. A few few hundred yards from the Southern Reach, lies The Shimmer. An environmental anomaly that seems to contain all that is within the southern swamp and coastal area, and it is continuing to expand. Having sent in several military missions into the almost bioluminescent dome, and Kane being the only "survivor", Ventress soon reveals that she intends to send in a small team of women scientists deeper into the territory, to figure out what exactly happened to these groups. Lena, feeling a need to do this for Kane, volunteers to join, without letting anyone else from her group know of her connection to the Shimmer's only living survivor.

And it isn't very long before the nature of the phenomenon reveals itself in increasingly gorgeous, yet deeply unsettling ways.

Garland, working from the first manuscript by VanDerMeer expands upon his now familiar brand of sneaky, slow burn, character-centric science fiction, and fashions something that borders on overload, but offers up enough thematic roughage to make up for it. Not satisfied at all with an abundance of cheap scares, the film attempts to hew in tone to Garland's stellar Ex-Machina. And even when it attempts to maintain that piece's more intimate nature, the execution at times feels a might looser, most likely due to the source material's more unwieldy elements. We are rarely given a great deal about the team Lena and Ventress join, save for hints that every member is a survivor of sorts. There is compelling support work here via teammates, Tessa Thompson, Gina Rodriguez, and Tuva Novotny, but it does feel like a classic need to streamline for pacing. And if anything, this is where the whole falters. Considering pre-release news about casting controveries, and Netflix deals, Annhilation at times feels like a work hindered by a lack of faith outside the director and crew. Because everyone here, brings their best possible game regardless of these obstacles.

Even so, Annhilation's canvas remains full of some of the most arresting, and eerie painterly images in a large scale creepfest in a great, long while. Cinematographer, Rob Hardy's work here is a quantum leap forward for the Ex-Machina DP, offering up a startling mix of natural light, intense greens, and a prism theme within the Shimmer, that operates like an ever present Lisa Frank nightmare. The design of what lies within, feels like an amalgamation of decades' worth of alien and biological horrors. Every time one wants to cry Giger, the film goes out of its way to create a signature, almost fungal feel. The very notion of life out of control permeates every moment within the Shimmer. And what may actually be happening inside, is both viscerally frightening, yet thematically beautiful.

Performances across the board are magnetic while Portman and Isaacs present a credible emotional anchor. Most impressive being Tessa Thompson, who's Josie not only grants us meaty exposition, but becomes an avatar of sorts for the mysterious environment that surrounds the cast. And Tuva Novotny, who effortlessly embodies empathy in a uniquely understated piece of acting work. And then there's an even more enigmatic than usual Leigh, who takes Ventress, beyond the archetypical "lead scientist with a secret" role, turning her from merely a foil, and into a potential martyr to science while our understanding of it is endlessly turned asunder.

Which plays perfectly into what seems to be Garland's greater, seething, and unflattering thesis within ANNHILATION. That for all our collective knowing, there are means that remain elusive. Means which could themselves be changing the world around us, unnoticed, unabated. Combine this with the tale of Lacks, which finds itself at the nexus of generations of both scientific understanding and racial relations. Whether we are cognizant of it or not, the universe, the world, nature, people - these are eternally changing constants while humanity finds itself eternally at odds with what it understands itself to be. Fear, and resistance being that necessity to fight off an encroaching threat. But what if not every threat was not malevolent? What if what we're actually fighting, is the inevitable? Fear of disease? Mortality? Decay? Then ally such fear to the daily lives we lead, and how we as a species, very often intentionally trip up ourselves in the name of something new to come in. What we often determine to be self-destruction, may in fact be a reaction to an inevitability within us as part of the natural world. A response to a denial we have long sought desperately to ignore. The noise of a deeper calling, but one we fear for what it means to the lives we at times believe we are dealt. 

One only need take in the final choices of the film to consider the whys for ourselves. What do we sacrifice of ourselves to co-exist? Do we even have to? If so, what are we losing?

ANNHILATION, invites us to ponder.

For Those That Follow, a song by Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow on Spotify

With DUNKIRK(2017), Christopher Nolan comes of cinematic age..

May, 1940.

Germans move in toward France. English troops on the ground, awash in a rain of leaflets detailing just how surrounded they all are. Gunfire commences, and a lone soldier makes it to the beach, where thousands upon thousands of troops await ocean rescue. Huddled together in tight formations, the day's calm often broken by the metal vultures overhead, more than eager to destroy all on the ground. The men grow tired, frazzled, fearful as their compatriots die, military vessels are downed, and only Navy commissioned civilian transports from tugs, to yachts, and trawlers inch ever closer to the embattled beach. Meanwhile, air support is minimal, and time is rapidly running out.

It is no bit of hyperbole here for me to say that over the last two decades, Christopher Nolan has become something of a mainstream favorite. So often blurring the line between auteur, and purveyor of high caliber commercial work. Always brimming with a unique eye for story, and often innovative use of story structure, that almost always raises the bar for literate filmmaking, if not of the entirely cinematic. To expound, his films, for all their visual sheen and love of noir elements, a majority of his stories tend to work like a puzzle, or a magic trick. The elements of a game under the constraints of an ever present clock has until now presented us with this nonlinear tendency, that while is thematically cogent, is rarely clockwork in the final analysis. Getting away with the kernel of truth at the center of his narratives has until now been one of his defining traits as a director.

Until now.

With his first major dive into the purely historic, Nolan and crew have synthesized everything that has been made until this moment, into a triumphantly immersive experience that evokes an era of period drama we haven't seen in a generation; the wholly absorbent dream of history.

Uninterested in your classic central characters, turns, or blunt proclamations via the cast, DUNKIRK, is by all accounts closer to a tension drenched docu-drama of the lives that were for a moment united by crisis;

Via the troops on the ground (Fionn Whitehead & Harry Styles), scrambling to get aboard a vessel- any vessel, to get them home. Home, which is so readily visible to those of both the Navy and Army(James D'Arcy & Kenneth Branagh), being told that there are to be no destroyers to come save them. Patience versus the escalating fear of the men. 

Their ordeal: One Week

Via civilians answering the call from Churchill; a father(Mark Rylance), and his two young teenage sons Peter & George(Tom Glynn-Carney & Barry Keoghan), heading out without the Navy acquiring his boat, stocked with life preservers to recover as many soldiers as possible. Without weapons, and driven by a deep need to do something-anything to help, are countered by a shivering soldier a few miles out to sea(Cillian Murphy), who would do anything never to head back to the beach.

Their Journey: One Day

Via the men of the Royal Air Force, particularly of fighter pilot, Farrier(Tom Hardy), who's one hour of fuel time is only dedicated to protect vessels on the ground. Take out enemy aircraft that might pose an imminent threat. With fellow pilot, Collins(Jack Lowden), the airspace near Dunkirk is fraught with danger, has nowhere near enough air support.

His Mission: One Hour

All three corners of the conflict from ground, sea, and air comprise of the entire film's runtime, as the Germans veer ever closer to wiping out the English presence with incessant bombs, torpedoes, and gunfire. An enemy as abstraction rather than a character. We weave almost seamlessly between these corners as docked boats are sunk, tensions run high on the rescue front, and morale wavers between low and distrustful. Troops find shelter in a beached vessel on an intertidal, not knowing it is well away from English perimeter, and that snipers might be near. Meanwhile, enemy aircraft are few, but seem to emerge like ghosts as fuel and artillery begin to dwindle. With a hazy sky, the entire area between Dunkirk and home, seems uncertain. Every sense of calm, deceptive. Every hair breadth turn, an invitation to a new form of terror.

The central aim for all - survive.  

All while German forces continue to enforce what resembles a vise-grip over everyone within several kilometers.

Nolan, crew, and cast help create an atmosphere of tension from frame one. We aren't informed of the politics of the situation. There is no one character with whom we are designated to see the entire story through. Nor, are we provided speeches designed to fully justify who being where and why. Part documentary, part horror film, and part all-analog, virtual reality re-enactment, Dunkirk offers us a chance to fill in the blanks by becoming every character onscreen. When matters have become this dire, and the world seems on the verge of total collapse, sometimes the only true choice is to save lives.

And this is at the heart of Dunkirk. It isn't about victory over a phantom enemy. It isn't about who is right. It isn't about pumping fists over a moral superior at odds with unfathomable evil. It's about what we do when faced with helping those who are surrounded on all sides, unsure of what the future might hold. We see it in Syria, not to mention so many other parts of the world where there are so many displaced human beings. Closer to an elemental drama of human survival, Dunkirk also has the distinction of evoking memorable siege narratives of the past, and we're talking beyond the war film. From Das Boot to Jaws, to even Antarctica, and even Last Of The Mohicans, there is a thread of the God's Eye, ever mindful of the events unfolding. And with Nolan being the digital luddite he can be, the film further reaches levels of suspense with a tactile nature that is refreshingly old hat, yet grand. Human beings submerged after vessels capsize, emergency landings, fire on the ocean, and the sudden shock of the sound of battered metal from airborne rounds. The film is a testament to taking the hard road toward replaying history. It's enormous as an experience. And yet, it never forgets that such grandeur, doesn't work without the quiet human moments to punctuate everything that happens. The film doesn't skimp on the most necessary notes.

Lastly, binding the whole together, are the cinematography by second-timer, Hoyte van Hoytema (Let The Right One In, and Interstellar), which is an extraordinary combination of handheld, and haunting IMAX imagery, often stunning nonlinear editing by Lee Smith, which occasionally grants us more than one perspective of a major event from multiple perspectives, and of course, an incredible minimal score by Hans Zimmer. Easily one of his most experimental accompaniments to date, the score is a spectral, ominous ocean of bending drones, bulkhead impacts, and endless ticking courtesy of Nolan's own pocket watch. Been playing it endlessly since I saw the film, and it is easily up there with one of his very best. Especially as it later evokes the films I mentioned with an almost VANGELIS level of synth etherealism. 

All elements combine to present us with a Nolan we have never truly seen before; a purely cinematic one. Dialogue, for once is pure texture of the era and of military speak functionality. And the actions of every performer speaks volumes in ways that his films have admittedly rarely done. It's the kind of filmmaking that takes a great deal more precision and faith in one's cast to deliver. And as such, it feels like a long time coming. There are so few filmmakers left to possess this level of clout, yet are willing to invite us in quite like this outside of the independent world. And for a summer offering, we certainly lucked out. While for now, it may rank among my favorites of his entire filmography, something tells me Dunkirk is bound to have a long, and significant shelf-life with many. The kind that can only increase in importance over time.

It's that good.

Bound by a shared desire for simple survival.  

War For The Planet Of The Apes (2017) Film Thoughts

It's been twenty-four hours since my personal screening of this third chapter, and that endless saw continues to haunt my mind; trilogies rarely land with any kind of grace. No matter how fondly we may look back, there's always something not quite three-legged table functional about a trifecta of chapters that perhaps underlies the often fatal flaw of film franchises; familiarity. As studios place increasing burdens upon filmmakers to outdo what has come before, some stories find themselves far more effective when the tension reaches a feverish point, often leaving the audience breathless. As obsessed as many of us may be about resolution, there may be an unspoken within regarding the unanswered question. The edge of the ramp. The moment where the floor drops out of existence, leaving us to grasp endlessly for our own answers. 

Which is a long way of saying that despite this initial paragraph, and what it seems to imply, Matt Reeves' second go-round at telling of the Caesar legend reaches its conclusion with grand emotional power, and a dire warning for contemporary humanity.

Several years have passed since the actions of Koba, a lone dissenter ape chose to wage war against humans in an act that dragged the once revolutionary leader, Caesar and his fellow simians into a brutal, neverending conflict. As the feared ape leader and his followers learn of a sanctuary further east, into a desert rich in resources, matters suddenly begin to look hopeful despite revelation of a rogue military clan hot on their heels. Hopes go triple tragic, when their home is ambushed late in the night, leaving Caesar's wife, Cordelia and his eldest son, Blue Eyes dead, and a near broken leader suddenly thirsting for the kind of vengeance he fought so hard to avoid. With only his youngest son, Cornelius at his side, Caesar decides to mobilize his apes to leave for the desert, while he himself seeks out the mysterious Colonel who murdered his family. Suddenly splintered from being the leader his people require, echoes of Koba haunt him, as he may never be able to escape a similar fate. Unwilling to let him go it alone, old friends, Maurice, Rocket, and Luca, choose to stay by his side to ensure that Cornelius still has a father when it is all over.

Soon into their path away from the rest, Caesar and companions meet both an escaped Zoo ape, and a mute young girl. Unsure of where these meetings will take them, fates ultimately lead everyone to the lair of the Alpha Omega, the Colonel's almost cult-like faction of extremists, seemingly bent on not only destroying Caesar and his kind once and for all, but anyone exhibiting a new wrinkle in the evolution of the Simian Virus that decimated the majority of the world. It is in this journey, it is also discovered that there are several apes who have turned their back on their kind in some faint hope that they may be spared. And upon further meeting with the hopelessly wayward Colonel, there is an air that even the remaining real military forces retain hope that a cure could be found, and that one day, they will descend upon him and his soldiers in an apocalyptic final showdown.

Matters have never been more dire for both ape and human.  

There simply aren't enough ways to properly express how shocking the dramatic success of this series has become. Taking familiar elements from the classic science fiction series of the past, and repurposing it for something far more sober, and perhaps even biblical, sounds like wishful thinking for film lovers who would love to revisit familiar wells, only to come back parched. But Reeves', since his incorporation into the series, has brought with him an almost God's eye approach to the material, often allowing these films to launch well beyond the almost cynical idea of making Rise, back in 2011. Not unlike Nolan, taking full rein of Warners' intentions of bringing Batman back from almost certain franchise death, and injecting an auteur's blood to the proceedings. Further proof lies in both the performances of all the talent involved, from motion capture, to live actor, to technical genius. What transpires as a result of every corner of the production, is a seamless case of mythmaking that will likely reward long after its theatrical run.

It's been six years since the original Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes presented us with technical wonders that merely scratched the surface of what was to come. And by Dawn, it was pretty clear that massive changes in cinema tech were in the works. But the achievements of War, are above and beyond some of the most awe inspiring I've ever witnessed on a large screen. Never for a moment is there a moment of being disconnected or pulled away. All that prevails, are the various ape characters, their expressions, and forms of communication with each other. It's the closest we've come to a near complete film without simple human speech. There are stretches here that are so bold, lingering with apes, pensive in the dark, gesturing to one another, changing allegiances, that it feels almost like a film made in a world of simians. 

But the real lasting legacy of these films will unsurprisingly lie with Andy Serkis, who further makes film history by taking Caesar into even more internal and complex territory by playing a classic revolutionary, now at odds with his own role in the tragedy that is transpiring. Having learned to communicate in a number of ways since he was young, and having possessed the know-how, charisma, and wisdom to bring his kind this far, is at last coming to terms with the reality that he may be no different than the rebellious ape who lit the fatal match. We see it all over his facial expressions and body language as he mulls staying with his people, or seek a personal vendetta. Not to mention his reactions to meeting the Colonel, and at last hearing of his plans, and reasons for them. It is sheer hubris in his eyes and brow that deliver that sense of revelation and understanding. Cesar, is both tragic figure, and classic hero in that he too is mired in the same moral fog that has infected much of humanity.

And representing humanity, are the Alpha Omega, a terrifying vision of humanity in its last breaths. Incapable of seeing the potential in cooperation. Fully aware of what fate awaits them, yet ready to lash out screaming at the world one last time before going out. Harrelson's Colonel, is a chiseled, hollow mold of a human, ready to destroy apes as well as his own kind in the name of what he deems his historical imperative. Unable to process that all sides are suffering, and that they'd likely have a better chance of survival with cooperation. However, with humans now slowly reverting to primitives, there seems to be no real way out but through to the bloody end. He and his troops are on a death ride, and while they're at it, choose to build an absurd wall to protect them from..what exactly? All while subjugating Caesar and his apes to treatment that evokes the slave era. It is a punishing vision of an America bereft of ideas, and death as savior. The deepest, darkest pit in a series that has long been famous for a lack of illumination. The kind of allegorical punch that only today could produce. This is the America we see more and more with each passing day. And it shouldn't be much of a surprise to see how this all transpires.

And while I contend that the dramatic momentum of this installment lacks the pivotal dramatic tension of the previous, there is a sense of natural finality that allows the drama to work like an almost spiritual magic trick. Classic science fiction provokes with visions of our world through a critical lens, and this film is no exception. But what War achieves over everything else in its powerful arsenal, is it allows us to carefully consider this disturbing time in our history, consider pause, and perhaps better understand how ideological purity is merely a human construct - a lapse of judgment.

And that together, we are truly strong. 

Baby Driver (2017) Film Thoughts

Dream projects, have long been a point of discussion between intense film fans. Very often, someone will mention how Streets Of Fire, was something that had gestated for years before Walter Hill was ever given a green light. Same goes for Inception's decades long writing process, or the need to direct two successful Batman features before this could ever remotely be considered by a major studio. But for as long as I've known the name, Edgar Wright, I had long been aware of his struggle to have a music loving, ace driving kid running jobs as escape rides for criminals film produced. Even as his and Simon Pegg's Three Flavours Cornetto Trilogy, became the vastly beloved series it is now, and Scott Pilgrim, the cult favorite that it continues to grow into, there remained these blurbs and soundbites about this one little project that for a brief moment had life as a Mint Royale music video. And never one to let a good idea go to waste, in the ether it waited.

That is until Marvel decided not to go with him on Ant-Man(2015).

Almost immediately after that controversial event, talks began to rumble about his project to a louder degree than ever before. Needless to say, I've been an ardent lover of his works since Shaun Of The Dead, helped solidify Wright's experiential stamp upon comedy cinema, with its wishes to be more than a referential work. It remains an document of what is possible when director, cast, and crew find themselves in the ultimate sandbox, and find themselves having the time of their lives. Watch it today, and that feeling is pretty hard to dispute. It remains astonishing in just how incredibly an action/horror/personal drama about at last facing responsibility could work so well without losing a single grasp of its pulse. And this kinetic, almost balletic approach to filmmaking has continued to be refined ever since. So that by the time of Scott Pilgrim, and World's End, it has come clear that Wright's specific brand of obsessive choreographed sight, sound, motion and wit has been honed into a language all its own.

Enter the world of Baby, a kid of few words, headphones ever in his ears, and one hell of a battery of driving skills. Orphaned at a young age, Baby has been surviving running a series of Atlanta bank jobs as driver for the mysterious, Doc(A loveable/hateable Kevin Spacey). An apparently powerful, and connected criminal entrepreneur who mixes and matches heist teams regularly. Owing Doc plenty after being found attempting to jack one of his own vehicles as a child, Baby has been accumulating stacks of cash, and hiding them beneath a floorboard at home, to the chagrin of his mute foster father, Joseph. Promising him that this upcoming hit is to be his last, Baby also finds time to fall almost instantly in love with Debora(Lily James), a waitress at a local diner. But his wishes for a new life, run brick wall into the cold reality that such talent becomes an addiction for some. Making matters worse, is a job that rapidly goes haywire, leaving Baby desperate to not only get out of the life, but save the lives of those he loves in the process. All while, depending on his valued iPod music mixes to assist his navigation through the furious action around him.

It's a plot that could very easily have stayed contained in a roughly five minute music clip. But what Wright again brings to the plate, is an intoxicating blend of choreographed car, as well as human mayhem, alongside his signature appreciation for music of the analog age. He grants Baby, a quiet, still innocent yet resolved demeanor despite the often despicable characters he is tasked with driving around. Not only do the tunes keep his driving sharp, it seems to work as a barrier against  the often bitter, wounded creatures he is surrounded by. It's an innocence that is both appreciated and challenged by those around him. Baby, may have been working for some pretty bad people over the years, but his heart remains untouched. We see his humanity through his caring for old Joe, his instant rapport with Deborah, dancing with her in laundromats, and even attempting to help the innocent when things go really wrong on the job. Wright and company, grant Baby's world a well-rounded moral landscape for his to grow through as we gather more clues about his days with a family, before driving even became the defining characteristic of his life.

Meanwhile, Doc's swapping and switching of job personnel, isn't going so hot as regulars Buddy(Jon Hamm), and Darling(Eiza Gonzalez) have begun to lose faith in impulsive new teammate, Bats(Jamie Foxx) as a new job looms. Tension mounts as it becomes clear that this new batch, isn't quite so easy to strike a workable rapport. And just as Baby is beginning to see an end to the rainbow, the genre screws of the entire film begin to tighten, allowing the story to shift from your classic Wright formula, into something altogether new. And while it took a few moments to gather proper bearings as to what was being attempted, in comes a lurching feeling that as a film, Baby Driver, comes off as sort of a gateway to a new era of the director's output. The humor remains, albeit with perhaps a darker tone sans the emotional wrecking ball of World's End. The stakes reach a point to where the comedy takes a backseat to Baby, with the help of Deb, improvising a path removed from the safety of all previous comforts.

It is ultimately a coming of age story, with cars, guns, and an assured sense of play against genre expectation, which makes it work despite some minor tone and pace hiccups. It's easily one of Wright's more emotionally slight works, which is a little of a whiff. But with so many riches coming out from every other conceivable pore, it's hard to fault it. The man's films are an often meticulous celebration of analog possibility, overstuffed with easter eggs, and technical wizardry that is near impossible to witness anywhere else. Even when it doesn't tug at the heart as previous efforts go, it remains a great example of what could happen with a simple idea borne out of something so personal. After 22 years of dreaming, it's perhaps the best possible time for Baby Driver. Now to find out where his busy, inventive mind seems to be charting new course.

Alien: Covenant (2017) Film Thoughts

Never let it be said that Ridley Scott, and company weren't strident in their ambitions with PROMETHEUS. A film that both galvanized me with a certain slackjawed awe at its unique perspective, and attempts at heady themes, and also infused me with inescapable rage at how jumbled the final product unspooled. When the subject of ALIEN: COVENANT came into a discussion with friends, up came a shared belief; that an artist should never apologize for the past. Even if we, the audience may not agree with it, there was a concerted effort to expose something new to us. And that this alone should be commended in a medium so often submerged in sameness, and repetition.

Enter: ALIEN: COVENANT. A sequel/"course corrected" vehicle for what ever kneejerk impulse director Scott has in mind for his universe of face raping parasites, psychotic androids, and hapless blue collar saps.

Here, we begin with a little flashback to what seems to be the incept day of PROMETHEUS' David(the always excellent Michael Fassbender), receiving his first lessons in recognizing life and creation by way of his father, Peter Weyland(Guy Pearce, sans scary Goldmember makeup). And it is at the order of tea do we begin to at least scratch the surface of David's future indifference to human life before flashing forward ten years after the events of PROMETHEUS, with the multi-year colonization mission, the COVENANT. A ship carrying within it over two thousand souls, helmed by a group of married coupled in hypersleep, and scores of frozen human embryos to be used on their destination, the distant star known as Origae-6. Awakened suddenly by a freak stellar phenomenon ending in the death of several crewmembers, including Captain Jacob Branson(the only really seen in YouTube marketing, James Franco), the husband of terraforming specialist, Daniels Branson now left to help pick up the pieces with the help of what remains of the crew. Assisted by the advanced synthetic Walter(Fassbender again), who while looks exactly like a certain other, seems to sport an american accent, and a much more stable temperament. Their repairs are cut short when they receive what seems to be a distress signal of seeming human origin just a short jaunt away on a planet much closer than the anticipated seven years they still had to go.

So yeah, despite the relationship dynamics, which weren't of Scott's concern in the 1979 original, this all begins to sound rather familiar to the initiated. Which is where the film begins to take steps both familiar and unfamiliar. In the absence of their original captain, the duties fall to the less than up to the task, Christopher Oram(Billy Crudup), a man of often questionable spine to lead an expedition while ship pilot, Tennessee(Danny McBride), and others remain in orbit. Problems? An ion storm that can last up to months is brewing, and while the surface looks peaceful, what lurks beyond the woods is both familiar, and none too friendly.

With all that out there, it's easy to see how much we've already seen compared to what writers, John Logan & Dante Harper were saddled with considering the sprawling disarray that PROMETHEUS ended up being. This problem is exacerbated by the David/Walter scenes, as they come off as if they belong in an entirely different film. While the ground team explores this mysterious, almost Earthlike planet, we are host to not only what happened to what remained of the PROMETHEUS crew, but of new forms of parasitic monsters that have no trouble decimating the team's numbers in a sequence that echoes some of the best in the series. The problems again being that there is a clear tug-of-war at play between the new, more exotic ideas of the previous films, and some studio need to hew so close to familiarity that it becomes shackles on the story. I can go so far as to even suggest that the voice to express this hidden tension throughout belongs to David himself. Created to BOTH serve and create, he finds humans far too limited to grasp the world of possibilities he sees. And as such, is unfazed about the lives he destroys in the process of seeking them. He is a classic mad scientist with a warm composure, but a sly grin. With COVENANT, we experience a film that both wants to be a follow-up to Elizabeth Shaw(The much missed Noomi Rapace) & David's journey to the planet of engineers, as well as a standard ALIEN feature. And as such, we get well visualized ideas wrapped around a spine with an ingrained curvature. 

The return of the classic xenomorph, as a result, ends up being the film's most banal element. It's a film that eagerly wants to explore new territory, but is hobbled by the past. Deep within the confines of ALIEN: COVENANT, there is an exasperated legend, embittered that his wish to repurpose the universe he created into a canvas for his own love of classical literature and art is being held back by market forces that expect him to not be so "creative" so open, so..odd. It isn't hard to see David as an analogue for Scott in that he sees himself as a romantic, eager to paint new worlds that echo scripture and poetry of the past, as we endlessly cycle through between the cold machinery of capitalism, and passionate overtures of art. In COVENANT, as in PROMETHEUS, creativity is both herald of beauty, and an act of brutality. There is no safety to be had in discovering new corners of experience. 

How in the world did we get here? It's almost as if Scott is asking us, no demanding that we expect more from our tales. To understand why the classics are what they are. This deep seated need, however is later exposed in all too blunt terms when the final twenty five minutes plays like a speed run of the original film, complete with slasher movie kill. It's a moment so crass and jarring, it's hard to believe that this is the same man who brought us the quiet elegance of the original derelict spacecraft, the wrath of the facehugger, and the unrelenting slow build of the fate of the commercial starship Nostromo. It's a final raspberry by a man who's made a career of some of the most beautiful imagery in film. COVENANT, indeed feels like that moment friends and I have commented on for years coming to light.

Maybe David's right. Maybe we don't deserve the grace.