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Quoth the H-Man . . . who cares?

The H-Bomb:  In this fictionalized take on the “mysterious final days” of Edgar Allen Poe (John Cusack), which depicts the macabre writer as a penniless, boorish drunk who constantly belittles his piers and hasn’t written anything of worth in quite some time.  The only bright spot in his life, aside from his beloved pet raccoon, is his romance with the lovely Emily Hamilton (Alice Eve), whom he intends to marry, despite the very vocal objections of her powerful father (Brendan Gleason).

Then one day Poe is approached by the young and “infamous” Detective Fields (Luke Evans), who is investigating the double murder of a mother and daughter that was carried out in the exact same manner that was described in one of Poe’s stories.  Initially, Poe is the prime suspect, but as more and more murders take place, again lifted directly out of Poe’s writings, he is eventually cleared of the crimes and asked to assist in the investigation.  The expected cat and mouse game ensues as the killer leaves grim clues and Poe tries to anticipate his next move.

The stakes are raised when Poe’s fiancé is abducted by the madman and, naturally, the investigation becomes personal for him.  Now Poe is desperate and must use all of his wits to find Emily, who is buried alive somewhere, before her time runs out.  This all sounds pretty damn interesting, doesn’t it?

Well, what does seem like an interesting premise on paper, is rendered mediocre and plodding in The Raven, the latest from director James McTeigue (V for Vendetta, Ninja Assassin), a filmmaker I’m becoming less and less interested in with each passing project.  Here, he takes a genuinely cool sounding idea and, to a large extent, squanders it by turning it into a fairly pedestrian police procedural, set in the olden days, no less, with clunky exposition and sluggish pacing.

It’s not a total loss, however, as Cusack’s commanding performance as the legendary writer-turned-detective, whether drunkenly ranting or feverishly trying to piece together the puzzle, does hold our attention and keep the film from falling apart completely.  At first he seemed over-the-top, but his fiery, earnest turn gradually won me over, and he kept me invested even when the script itself did not.  Though he did ultimately nail his performance, a thing that kept nagging me as I watched Cusack, is that he looked way too healthy for a guy who was just a couple of whiskey shots away from drinking himself to death.

McTeigue’s vision of 1800’s Baltimore as a dark, shadowy, foreboding place was effective in setting up the appropriate gloomy atmosphere, and some of the set pieces, including an ambush at a masquerade ball, and a chase through the backstage of a theatre, were both well executed and exciting.  But most everything else is just a slog to sit through.  Poe’s big sit down confrontation with the killer, whose reveal is a big “so what,” is overblown and just plain silly. It’s one of those obligatory scenes where the bad guy takes ten minutes to explain to the hero what he did and why he did it, just so the audience will get it.  Lame.

Add on to that a final scene that feels tacked on and less than necessary, and what we end up with is a film that isn’t exactly bad (again, Cusack carries this motherfucker a long way), but given the inherent intrigue of its premise, it’s underwhelming at best.  For me, The Raven was particularly disappointing, as I truly did want to like it, and it feels like forever since I’ve reviewed a decent film (does this stream of mediocrity have no end???).  It’s definitely not one that needs to be seen on the big screen, but it could make an okay Net watch someday.  Or, come to think of it, your time would probably be better spent actually reading some Edgar Allen Poe, instead.

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“Freud’s obsession with sex has to do with the fact that he never gets any.”

The H-Bomb:  One would think that A Dangerous Method, a film about how early twentieth-century psychologists Carl Jung and Sigmund Freud developed “The Talking Cure,” or psychoanalysis, would be the ideal marriage of director and material.  After all, many of Canadian auteur David Cronenberg’s past films (Crash, Dead Ringers, Naked Lunch), have examined not just the psychological and the sexual, but the psycho-sexual; those whose tastes and desires fall outside the normal bump n’ grind.  It would seem that if anyone could make this subject into a compelling and provocative film, it would be him.  Unfortunately, Cronenberg’s film isn’t all that compelling or provocative, it’s not even all that interesting.  Instead, it’s a rather dry, talkative affair that’s a tad aloof, to boot.

That’s not to imply that A Dangerous Method, adapted by Christopher Hampton from his play The Talking Cure, which in turn is based on the book A Most Dangerous Method by John Kerr, is a complete failure, as it does feature some fine performances (with one exception I’ll get to shortly), as well as a premise that is intriguing for awhile.  It’s certainly well crafted, with individual aspects that are impressive; like Howard Shore’s evocative score, and Peter Suschizky’s painting-like cinematography.  There most definitely is an intelligence behind it all, but as a whole, it’s curiously unsatisfying.

The story, again, focuses on how Dr. Jung (Michael Fassbender) and Dr. Freud (Viggo Mortensen) develop a new form of therapy by examining both the conscious, what we’re actively doing/thinking/feeling, and the subconscious, mainly by analyzing dreams.  Jung and Freud develop a protégé/mentor relationship, as the former’s current research seems to be a natural extension of the latter’s.

But as the years wear on, they start to diverge in both their beliefs and practices; Freud believes that deep down our psyches are based solely on sexual desires, Jung does not.  Jung wants to make spiritual/religion a part of psychoanalysis, whereas Freud thinks it should be purely science based, since those in the scientific community are having a hard enough time accepting this new kind of psycho-therapy without the whole mystical angle.  Also, Freud feels psychoanalysis should be used simply as a research tool to understand neuroses, whereas Jung wants to actually cure his patients.

It’s these differing views that drive them further apart over time, as we see what was a productive friendship turn into a polite, but rather tense rivalry.  As stated earlier, the correspondence and conversations between Jung and Freud are of interest at first, but after awhile they become repetitive, and the endless psycho-babble becomes downright tiring to listen to.  That they argue with each other in such a calm and formal manner raises the level of dramatic tension to . . . absolutely nothing.

But it’s not just their different opinions on the specifics of psychoanalysis that drives our two legendary shrinks further and further apart, there’s also Jung’s relationship to one of his patients, Russian born Sabina Spielrein (Keira Knightley).  She’s a frothing-at-the-mouth whack job who comes to Jung, and he treats her with his experimental new methods, where she admits to becoming sexually excited while being spanked by daddy at a young age.  Over the next several years, Sabina becomes an analyst herself as she and Jung wind up consulting together, and eventually an affair between the damaged girl and the good doctor starts.  What would Freud think of this affair if he found out?  Could that be the one thing that ends their friendship which is already only hanging by a thread.

I can tell you how I felt about it by the time the film got to that point . . . I truly did not care!  Like I said, the film is about as dramatically flat as Keira Knightley’s boobies, which we do get to see, with an overly talky script that gets so bogged down in philosophical debates, with bullshit jargon that ultimately just makes the viewer tune out before heads start exploding, ala Cronenberg‘s superior Scanners.  Fassbender, whom I first saw in Inglourious Basterds, and seems to be popping up all over the place lately, does well as Jung, a well mannered, intelligent, professional man on the surface, who is insecure and susceptible to his desires underneath.

Mortensen, who deserved more screen time than he had, delivers a finely tuned, subtly charismatic turn as Freud, who at one point makes a self-deprecating joke there’s no topic that’s inappropriate for discussion in front of his children, since there’s really no perverse topic that hasn’t already been discussed in their presence.  Mortensen is one of those actor’s who can truly play anything; redneck, Russian mobster, sword-wielding hero of Middle Earth, Sigmund Freud . . . anything.  He has done his best work with Cronenberg over recent years, and he is easily the best thing about this film.

Which brings me to the worst thing about this film, aside from the script that doesn’t have one iota of emotional tension or engaging conflict, the performance by one Keira Knightley.  Now, it’s weird, because her performance isn’t bad throughout, she actually does get better as the movie progresses.  But in the first act of the movie, when she’s a total nutcase, Holy God, is she awful!  With over-the-top jerky body movements and facial contortions, and that she shouts every line of dialogue that she has in a jittery, crazy voice, she gives the term over-acting a whole new meaning.  It’s easy to see what’s wrong, and it’s not her, but again, the script.  This was a stage play, and she is giving a stage performance for the screen, and it is just way too much.  She really needed to dial it down, and someone – like her director, maybe – should have told her to do exactly that.

This was a difficult review to write, as Cronenberg is one of my favorite directors.  Whether it’s one of his warped, deliciously sick sci-fi/horror flicks, or one of his more mainstream efforts, he usually delivers the goods.  But this time, he only half-delivered.  A number of his recurring themes are present, but they’re in a script that’s cold and clinical, where such things as human emotion are non-existent.  It pains me to say, that of the films Cronenberg has made since the new millennium (Spider, A History of Violence, Eastern Promises) this is easily his worst.  Those interested in Freud, Jung, and their school of thought may get more out of A Dangerous Method, but the rest of us, especially fans of this truly unique director, will more than likely be under-whelmed and perhaps a little bored.  And a movie featuring the world’s kinkiest shrink should never, ever be boring!

(1 People gave this 3.00 out of 5)

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“The Hungry Rabbit . . .”

(1 People gave this 1.00 out of 5)

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John Carter of Mars, actually.

The H-Bomb:  Because that sounds a lot better than John Carter of Earth, doesn’t it?  And just who is this John Carter (Taylor Kitsch)?  Well, he’s a decorated hero of the Civil War who, due to a tragedy in his past, has turned his back on his duty and his fellow man in favor of searching for a legendary cave of gold.  During this search, he comes upon a strange medallion that whisks him off to… a very, very strange place.

Soon after arriving in this strange desert place, John discovers that he can now jump abnormally high, as in hundreds of feet.  Unfortunately for him, before he can really enjoy his new found ability, he is attacked and captured by Tharks, a violent race of large, ugly green creatures with four arms and tusks growing out of their faces.  Most of the Tharks want to feed him to the big “white apes,” but their fearless leader, Tars Tarkas (Willem Dafoe), wants to hold him captive because… he really likes the way John can jump.

John, erstwhile, is just confused as hell, as he really has no clue where he is or how he got there.  Eventually, through the miracle of exposition, John comes to realize that he somehow transported to the planet Mars, or as the locals call it, Barsoom.  If that’s not bad enough, John finds out that the planet is in the middle of a war between the city states of Zodanga, a traveling city that has been conquering all the cities on the planet, and Helium, the last city that has been able to stand up to them.

In an effort to end the war, Tardos Mors (Ciaran Hinds), the leader of Helium, offers the leader of Zodanga, Sab Than (Dominic West), the hand of his daughter, Princess Dejah Thoris (Lynn Collins), in marriage.  She, of course, objects to this idea, sensing it is just a ploy, and runs off to go join her fellow countrymen in battle.  One of these battles happens near the Thark hideout, and while the Tharks are all placing bets on who will win, John sees Dejah in danger, and since these Martians look human, he saves her life.

They take one look at each other, and since he’s hot, and she’s hot, it’s love at first sight.  So now John must utilize his mad jumping skills to help the Princess defeat Zodanga once and for all, and find a way back to Earth.  But, aside from the obvious dangers, he will also have to be careful of the Thern, a shape shifting God-like race who “control things” on Mars, and who view John’s presence on the planet as a threat to the natural order of things.  Or something.

Adapted from the classic novel The Princess of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs, John Carter (of Mars) has apparently spent eight decades in development and finally comes to us via Disney with a jaw dropping budget of $250 million, making it one of the most expensive films ever made.  The influence of the novel has been far reaching and is quite evident in such films as Star Wars, Dune, Avatar, and even Stargate.  It’s that influence that causes John Carter to seem like too little, too late, as so much of what goes on is so familiar by now.

Also, if a film is going to cost $250 million to produce, then that film had better knock me on my ass and blow me away.  Sadly, this film does neither.  It has all the CGI money can buy, and a pretty epic look and feel to it, but as a whole, I found it all pretty underwhelming.  The battle scenes, as big as they tried to be, had little impact and just weren’t that exciting.  They were aided in no way by the 3D, which added absolutely nothing to the picture.  In fact, not only did the 3D not help to immerse me in the story, I found it to be distinctly flat and unimpressive.

The story often is bogged down by clunky exposition, explaining its convoluted Space Opera plot that, again, just seems old hat nowadays.  Not to mention it relies too heavily on convenient contrivances throughout, such as John drinking some kind of potion that magically makes him understand the Martian language (never read the book, don’t know if that was in there or not, but either way, it’s stupid).

When we first meet John, he is selfish and off-putting, and for the longest time, we don’t know why, and the few fleeting flashbacks of his dead family just don’t cut it.  I also didn’t get a clear reason why the bad guys wanted to take over every city on Mars, aside from that they’re bad guys and that’s what bad guys do.  Another thing, and I know that this book was written like a bagillion years ago and is supposed to be fantasy and whatnot, but the fact that the planet Mars looks absolutely nothing like this in reality kept nagging at me throughout.  The whole time I just couldn’t stop thinking, “Why the hell does Mars look so much like Utah?”

Okay, I’ve been beating up on John Carter pretty badly, so now I shall move on to one of its big positives: the cast.  Kitsch has a very strong screen presence and made for a very commanding lead.  He plays Carter with a sense of humor, even allowing himself to look foolish at times, which goes a long way in making him sympathetic, even when he’s being a dick, and keeps him from being just another “bland leading man.”  He’s well matched by Collins, who is not only a pretty convincing ass kicker in her own right, but also spends the bulk of the movie in skimpy, Princess Leia-style bikinis. That I do appreciate.

West is deliciously slimy (if a bit campy) as the villain, and Mark Strong is downright creepy as Matai Shang, the most prominent Thern.  He’s bald, evil, and scary… and that is why he is awesome.  My favorite of the entire cast would have to be Dafoe, as the voice of the Thark leader.  He gives this big, green ugly thing a sense of dignity and made me forget I was watching a special effect.  That takes talent.

Aside from making some very solid casting choices, director/co-writer Andrew Stanton (WALL-E) also helped by injecting a healthy dose of humor into the story, when appropriate, like the ridiculous game of charades that John plays with Tars when they first meet, or the loveable dog thing that follows John everywhere he goes.  Stanton also makes good use of the CGI, making creatures life like and environments eye catching (though again, the 3D did nothing to enhance it), as well as keeping the gigantic story moving at a fairly decent pace, so while I was never entirely engaged with it, I was never bored, either.

Overall, by the time John Carter (of Mars) ended, I was left with a film that I neither loved nor hated.  While I found it perfectly watchable, I just wasn’t that interested in its oh-so-ambitious narrative, nor was I all that invested in what was happening.  I take it this is meant to be the first of a possible franchise, but I must admit I’m not very curious to see where it goes from here.  Disney sure sank a crap-ton of money into this, I just wish they ended up with something more than this utterly generic epic.  Fans of the books may rate this higher, after all, they certainly did wait long enough for this movie, but I have the feeling that most will be as indifferent to it as I am.

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“We’re just having a little get-together…”

The H-Bomb:  Dorky high school kid Thomas is turning seventeen on the same weekend that his parents are going out of town for their anniversary.  So his best friend, Costa (a poor man’s Jonah Hill), sees the opportunity to throw a huge birthday party at Thomas’s house.  He plans on making it epic, the birthday party to end all birthday parties, even recruiting goth weirdo Dax, from the “Gay/V Club,” to videotape the whole thing.  Being that Costa is a deep and sensitive young man, his noble goal for this celebration is to get Thomas and himself laid by the hottest girls in school. [Swift note: shocking]

They’ll party all Friday night, spend the rest of the weekend cleaning up, and Thomas’s folks will be none the wiser.  Unfortunately for them, they did too good a job getting the word out, as practically every young person in Pasadena shows up (along with a creepy middle-aged guy), drinking and drugging and dry humping the night away.  Shit gets crazier and crazier as people jump off roofs, cars are driven into pools, and eventually the cops are called to the scene, followed by the news media, then the SWAT Team.  Finally, the roof is literally set on fire, and all Thomas and Costa can do is stand-by helplessly and watch the motherfucker burn, burn motherfucker, burn.

If you’re looking for any more story than that, then go see something else.  Take any teenage sex comedy you’ve ever seen, American Pie, Superbad, whatever, take the party scene from those movies, stretch it out to feature length, shoot it in “Found Footage/Faux-Doc” style, amp up the alcohol/drug use by about a million, then throw in a cute little dog, a guy with a flame thrower, a couple of overzealous twelve-year-old security guards, and a testicle punching midget (billed as “Angry Little Person”), and you have the sure to be modern masterpiece, the film that will most definitely sweep next years Oscars, and be studied by film students and scholars for generations to come…  Project X.

Okay, so Project X isn’t any kind of masterpiece, nor will it be studied by anyone (except as a “How to party” guide by socially challenged high schoolers).  When I first read the synopsis to this movie, I thought it sounded fucking terrible.  When I watched the trailer, I thought it looked fucking terrible.  I didn’t even like going to these kinds of parties when I was in high school, why in the hell would I want to watch a whole movie about one, especially one shot in that uber-cliched “Found Footage” style.  I really did drag my heels into the screening, fearing that this would be so Goddamn stupid that I would actually feel my brain cells die off as I watched it.

So, much to my own surprise, I have to say that Project X isn’t half bad.  Again, it’s no classic, but over the course of its eighty-something minutes, it actually won me over…  to an extent.  Yeah, the main characters are a couple of shallow idiots, and the story only barely qualifies as a story, but it did make me kind of like these characters (the not-Jonah Hill guy does grow on you, despite being an obnoxious douche), it did make me feel like I was in the middle of this shindig, and it did make me laugh with more than a few outrageous, what-the-fuck moments that kept me on my toes.  Of course, I won’t spoil them here, except to say the things they do to that poor little dog… oh, and the encounter with a psychotic drug dealer and his bird flippin’ garden gnome… hilarious!

Apparently, this is based on a true incident that happened in Australia, but I couldn’t tell you how much is actually based on fact, as it all does get pretty absurd towards the end.  I imagine, in real life, this party would have been broken up long before an entire army of cops had to roll in with full riot gear and tear gas.  Sorry, but by that point, where the film becomes somewhat serious and practically turns into Goddamn Die Hard, I really stopped believing in what I was seeing.  Also, if I were to nitpick, I would wonder why Thomas is so head over heels for the “school hottie,” whom he barely knows, when his best female friend, who is clearly interested in him, is equally as attractive.  Just sayin’.

I could go on with such nitpicks, but what’s the point.  This isn’t a movie for critics, this is a movie for the people who made things like Superbad and The Hangover the hits that they were.  Project X doesn’t quite have the charm, or the likeable characters, or even the quotable dialogue that those movies gave us, but it does supply the raunchiness in spades, and fans of that kind of un-PC, dick n’ fart toilet humor should definitely check it out.

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A mindless bromantic comedy

Look, it’s Kirk’s Nemesis? – A Swift Thought

Girls, you may want to avoid this one, as This Means War wasn’t made for you. Not entirely. The first clue is the opening scene where we meet our intrepid heroes Tuck (Tom Hardy) and FDR (Chris Pine) at the tail end of their covert operation. Unfortunately, they forget to put the ‘c’ in ‘covert’ and the ensuing chaos has them end up riding the pine in the Los Angeles branch of the CIA offices until further notice, where boredom reigns supreme. FDR, a known lady-killer, and Tuck, a divorcee, are best friends as well as partners, so when Tuck decides to hit the dating scene again, FDR offers to gladly be his wing man. However, the closest Tuck will allow is a quick phone call to let FDR know if he needs an extraction or not.

What follows is a little perplexing. Maybe I’m so far gone from the dating scene that what transpired seemed odd and in reality is perfectly normal, or maybe the writers had no concept of a first date at all. Enter Lauren Scott (Reese Witherspoon), a product tester/blogger with a firm grasp of her professional life and no grasp of her romantic one. Against her will, her confidante and best friend, Trish (Chelsea Handler) signs her up for a dating site that pairs her with Tuck, resulting in a 5-10 minute first date that to me seemed more like a meeting. Although the attraction is instant and the pair enjoys each other’s company, Lauren tears herself away so that she could…rent a video to watch alone? Never mind we’re to believe that in 2012 there’s still a ginormous video store conveniently located near the ‘meeting’ site, but we’re also to believe that she’d rather watch a movie by her lonesome than possibly catch a bite to eat with a man she finds incredibly attractive despite his gigantic protruding tooth? Of course we are.

Movie serendipity, also known as “convenient writing,” steps in so that Lauren can meet bachelor number two. At where else? The movie rental place. Despite calling the player on his game and putting up the Great Wall of China, Lauren finds herself accidentally pitting the two friends together by dating them both. In the face of a gentleman’s agreement on the best man winning, all hell breaks loose as both CIA agents use every government-funded resource at their disposal to spy on Lauren, and one another, to ensure neither get the upper hand.

Once you get into the shenanigans, you can ignore the contrived plot devices and shut off your brain as the action picks up. Director McG (sounds more like a DJ by the way) may try to convince the ladies that this is a standard romantic comedy, but I’m here to tell you that is completely false. It sails more on the bromantic comedy side of things as we quickly come to realize that the story is about two friends who put their friendship to the ultimate test only to find out that they truly belong together…In a non-gay way, of course.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

It becomes clearer that this is more bromantic at the climax, where – shocker! – Lauren learns of the two’s friendship, but instead of the typical rom-com trappings where we have to endure 10 minutes of sadness, pining, and profuse apologies followed by a heartfelt wowing speech that had us at ‘Hello,’ we’re met with explosions and stunt work . . . not that there is anything wrong with that!

As vapid as this movie was, I enjoyed it for the popcorn-flick it turned out to be. So guys, if you want to avoid another romantic comedy with your gals, take them to This Means War . . . and enjoy pulling the wool over their eyes.

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“Words get us nowhere.  It’s time for action.”

The H-Bomb:  Is that right, Carlos?  Time for action?  That’s why your life story offers so many words and so little action?  Oh, but I’m jumping ahead of myself, aren’t I?  “Carlos” tells the true story of Ilich Ramirez Sanchez, or, as the world would come to know him, Carlos the Jackal (though he’s never actually called the Jackal in the film).

Kicking off with a disclaimer saying that it should be regarded as “historical fiction”, the film covers Carlos’ entire career as a political terrorist for the Palestinian cause, from his early days fighting for the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine and the Red Army Faction in Europe, to his rise to fame/infamy, to later in his life, when he’s living in hiding and struggling, in vain, to stay relevant.

Of all the killings, bombings, and kidnappings that he orchestrated, the most notable, and the one that the film spends a great deal of time on, is when Carlos and his crew take hostages at the OPEC headquarters in 1975, though the real mission is to assassinate a certain official.  It all goes pretty wrong, leaving three dead, but Carlos, through careful maneuvering, is able to elude capture.

That single episode shows entirely who Carlos the Jackal was.  They could’ve made the movie solely about that incident, and they would have had a pretty taut thriller.  A kind of “Dog Day Afternoon” on a global political scale.  But instead they just made it one part in the larger story of Carlos.  They went for a full blown epic, one that was set in many countries and spoken in just as many languages.  They went for huge, and huge is what they got.  Too huge, as the end result is bloated, drawn out, and, at times, a tad flat.

“Carlos”, directed by Olivier Assayas, exists in two forms: as a nearly six hour long, three part mini-series, and as a two hour long theatrical film.  I watched the mini-series, and it’s worth mentioning that it should be viewed as a mini-series, meaning it should be taken in one segment at a time.  By trying to watch the whole thing in one shebang, you would only be dooming yourself to hate it.

The film that “Carlos” immediately reminded me of was Steven Soderbergh’s two-parter “Che”, not just in its sheer length, but in it’s style (documentary style), and it’s tone (understated).  There is also, of course, the connection of the subject matter, since Che and Carlos both considered themselves “revolutionaries.”  In fact, portraits of Che Guevera hang on the walls of the many safe houses and flats that Carlos stays in throughout the film.  Like “Che”, I found “Carlos” interesting to a point, but also tedious in spots and overall just lacking any true insight into who its protagonist was.

That is my real problem, I didn’t feel like I knew any more about Carlos the Jackal after the film than before it.  As played by Edgar Ramirez, Carlos was a calculating, strategic thinker who was perhaps a glory hound,  but sincerely committed to his cause.  But why?  Why did a Venezuelan care so much about Palestine,  so much as to dedicate his entire life as a terrorist to it?  Why was violence the only solution for him?  We never get answers to any of these questions.

Instead, we only see his actions.  Carlos shooting people.  Carlos tossing bombs into storefronts.  And Carlos talking.  Oh, we get a lot of him talking.  Talk, talk, talk.  Of his grandiose ideas.  Of how deeply committed he is to the cause.  Of how he dreams of uniting revolutionaries to the world over.  We get to hear over and over again about his philosophies, but not about what drove him.

And he talks about these ideas of his with so, so many people.  “Carlos” is a film with a cast of millions.  There are so many players, in fact, that when they come on screen, we’re shown little subtitles to tell us who the hell they are.  It’s all for naught, as trying to keep all these people straight is utterly futile.  And that new characters keep on being introduced, right up until the very end, really doesn’t help matters either.

As a polemic, director Assayas keeps it objective and doesn’t judge Carlos.  He’s neither a good guy or a bad guy.  Neither romanticized nor demonized.  Instead, his words and actions are depicted in a clinical, matter-of-fact fashion, leaving it up to us to decide whether he was a terrorist or a freedom fighter.  I lean towards terrorist, myself, but that’s just me.  He certainly was cold blooded, with zero remorse.  I did laugh out loud when he claims to have “a great respect for human life,” though I don’t think I was supposed to.

“Carlos” does benefit significantly from a powerful performance by Ramirez.  He really put all of himself into the role, and is indeed terrific.  He pulls a De Niro in “Raging Bull” in how his figure morphs over time.  The youthful Carlos dons many looks and disguises as he bounces around Europe and the Middle East, while the older incarnation, who was a drinker, is puffier and sports the requisite beer belly.  The film’s faults aside, he is riveting to watch, and manages to hold the film together when nothing else does.

Overall, “Carlos” is not a bad film, as the subject matter is inherently interesting and it was never really boring, per se, just monotonous and long winded in places.  I would expect a biopic that’s six hours long to have a fully developed lead character.  But the Carlos we get here is underwritten, and, as a result, the entire film, while striving for greatness and importance (much like Carlos himself), is under-whelming.

(1 People gave this 5.00 out of 5)

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Happy Feet 2 starts off on a happy foot (pun intended!) with a grand opening montage of dancing and singing penguins. This film had us tapping our feet and singing to surprisingly cross generational selection of songs covered in the film. Mumbles (voiced by Elijah Wood) is now an adult penguin with a family of his own. His wife Gloria (Pink) is one of the most beautiful female penguins with an amazing voice who tries to foster a more positive relationship between Mumbles and their little penguin, Erik (EG Daly) who finds himself without “happy feet” and rather clumsy.

The message is the same, don’t be afraid to be different, and always put your friends and family first. However, the story bounces back and forth between the penguins plight of being trapped by newly formed avalanches, and their reliance on other penguin tribes, and a krill’s quest for independence and evolution. Bill the Krill (Matt Damon) and Will the Krill (Brad Pitt) added some of my favorite parts, with witty dialogue and fun bantering. The addition of these new characters and a puffin named Sven (Hank Azaria) certainly mixed things up a bit. However Sven’s accent left my 7 year old asking, “What did he say? He sounds weird!”

The music was fun, the energy was cool, and overall I was surprised that I liked the sequel just as much as the original, especially in 3D.

Warning:  If you haven’t read the books, these reviews may contain spoilers!  Also, the vampires sparkle in the sunlight, so . . . yea, there’s that.