The Angry Birds Movie

Year: 2016
Genre: Family-Oriented Comedy
Directed: Clay Kaytis & Fergal Reilly
Stars: Jason Sudeikis, Josh Gad, Danny McBride, Maya Rudolph, Bill Hader, Peter Dinklage, Sean Penn, Keegan-Michael Key, Kate McKinnon, Tony Hale, Hannibal Buress, Ike Barinholtz
Production: Rovio Entertainment

Films based on video games have come a long way since the late Bob Hoskins first dawned blue denim overalls and plumber hat while on a quest to save the princess. Unabashed video game nerds have had to contend with the ridiculously campy adaptations of the 1990's, the unbearably turgid reworkings of the 2000's and the vacuous renditions on the 2010's; to say nothing of the atrocious low-budget, spazoid tinkerings of Uwe Boll. I have no doubt that one day, one day soon, there will be a good movie based on a video game. Unfortunately The Angry Birds Movie is not that movie.

Boll's general attitude towards Far Cry fans.

The film centers on a small island community of birds who exist peacefully under the presumed eye of Mighty Eagle (Dinklage) who legend has, can actually fly. The only proud miscreant of the flock is Red (Sudeikis) who due to his latest outburst, is forced into anger management class at Matilda's (Rudolph) angry bird sanctuary. It is there Red meets fellow outcasts Chuck (Gad), Bomb (McBride) and the strong, silent Terence (Penn). Things in the community begin to change for the worse with the arrival of King Leonard (Hader) and the pigs who distract the native birds with useless trinkets while plotting to steal the flocks' eggs.

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It is abundantly clear from the first half hour that the film doesn't have enough plot to actually fill it's entire hour and a half length. To pad it, the movie inundates the audience with a barrage of dated, low-brow jokes and bird/pig/egg based puns that halt just long enough to bask in assumed chuckles and applause like a sitcom laugh track. The jokes that actually manage to land are ripped whole-cloth from better movies whose writers may have been offended if the movie wasn't so inconsequential.

Inconsequential but still hard to digest; especially when sitting in a theater full of families who seem to pay no mind as Angry Birds seems to belay a confusing message. The pigs are portrayed as one-dimensional, easily distracted, bumbling idiots whose singular aim is to steal children. Meanwhile the only bird questioning their motives is the angriest bird in the village who seems less concerned about the village than with his own piece of mind. What is the message here exactly? It's alright to be angry? It's okay to be suspicious and even hostile to outsiders? What outsiders need is a common enemy they can use to be welcomed into their community?

This sorta rings a bell.

As with all movies of this type, throngs of un-invested parents may lob a half-hearted defense of The Angry Birds Movie. It's just a kid's movie after all; why try to analyze and criticize a movie meant for children? They're just here for the pretty colors and physical humor. This argument is as stale as the jokes that plague this movie. Inside Out (2015) is a kid's movie; The Lego Movie (2014) is a kid's movie; The Little Mermaid (1989) is a kid's movie and they still manage to be emotionally complex, legacy making and wildly entertaining films. Perhaps presently children won't internalize messages of being true to yourself, celebrating your uniqueness and aspiring for more. But eventually those children will grow up and model themselves based on, among other things, the media they consumed. Do you want your child to be more like Emmet in The Lego Movie, or Red in The Angry Birds Movie.

I kinda feel like Red right about now...

I was rooting for this movie myself. While video game adaptations have proved a troubled sub-genre with unanimously lackluster results, I still hope for one good flick before the end of the decade. Unfortunately, with bad jokes, boring characters, dubious themes and a generally condescending attitude towards its audience, The Angry Birds Movie tows the line between harmlessly bad and malignantly bad.

Final Grade: F

X-Men: Apocalypse

Year: 2016
Genre: Superhero Film
Directed: Bryan Singer
Stars: James McAvoy, Michael Fassbender, Jennifer Lawrence, Oscar Isaac, Nicholas Hoult, Rose Byrne, Evan Peters, Sophie Turner, Tye Sheridan, Lucas Till, Kodi Smit-McPhee, Alexandra Shipp, Ben Hardy, Olivia Munn, Josh Helman, Hugh Jackman
Production: 20th Century Fox

What can I say, I like to root for the underdog. And since DC and Warner Bros. have metaphorically s*** the bed with Batman Vs. Superman (2016), 20th Century Fox's X-Men series (2000-Present) is the biggest superhero game in town other than Marvel. Being a fan of the comic books, growing up with the animated TV series (1992-1997), and enjoying the ever expanding bevy of merchandising material, I admit I am bias when it comes to this particular IP. Of course I enjoyed the high-water mark that is X-Men: First Class (2011). Yes, I unabashedly love the original movie trilogy. Yes I even like X-Men: Last Stand (2006). These guys have been doing the superhero team-up shtick on the big screen much longer than some. At their best, their aesthetic gives those lapsing into superhero fatigue but still looking for that explosive kick a much needed respite. At their worst their soulless, characterless and confusing cash-grabs that cheapen the civil rights subtext that gives the X-Men their unique flavor.

Uh, this freakin' movie!

X-Men: Apocalypse begins in ancient Egypt where a gaggle of mutants are adored by throngs of people witnessing a processional. Apocalypse (Isaac) heads the pack and is about to transfer his consciousness into a self-healing mutant when something goes wrong. Fast-forward to 1983 where Charles Xavier's (McAvoy) school has just enrolled series regulars Scott Summers (Sheridan) and Jean Grey (Turner). Meanwhile Erik Lehnsherr aka Magneto (Fassbender) attempts to live a normal life in Poland after the events of Days of Future Past (2014) have made him the world's most wanted man. Thanks to the sleuthing of CIA agent Moira Mactaggert (Byrne), Apocalypse is unleashed and sees humanity's dominance over mutants as reason to pretty much end the world.

X-Men: Apocalypse lies somewhere in the middle of the pack as far as quality. The action, while occasionally repetitive never ceases to amaze and newcomers Sheridan, Turner and Alexandra Shipp as Storm manage to find deeper dimensions to their characters despite finding precious little time to do so. Additionally, the emotional epicenter at the core of this film (and indeed every X-Men film), the relationship between Charles and Magneto remains as complex as ever.

Yet with so many mutants crowding the halls of Xavier's School for Gifted Youth, not to mention the streets of central Europe, it's truly impossible to really let a lot resonate. X-Men: Apocalypse has enough story to fill three films yet with a huge amount of characters to appreciate and the same dour cinematic choices of its predecessors, the film feels simultaneously rushed and turgid. The inclusion of fan favorites Nightcrawler (Smit-McPhee) and Quicksilver (Peters) manage to serve as convenient plot devices or worse, contrived fan-service that detracts completely from the plot.

Oh come on!

It's really hard to get excited one way or the other about X-Men: Apocalypse especially in a year that simultaneously gave us a truly great superhero film in the form of Captain America: Civil War (2016) and one of the worst in the aforementioned Batman Vs. Superman. X-Men: Apocalypse isn't even the best X-Men movie this year; that distinction is deservedly bestowed upon Deadpool (2016) which called out the aging series for being too far up it's own a**.

All said and done however, the newest X-Men movie still has a couple of showstopping performances. The talents of James McAvoy, Michael Fassbender, Jennifer Lawrence, Sophie Turner and Tye Sheridan, if utilized correctly next time, will assure that the franchises' best days aren't behind it. For now, those very performances saved this film from completely cratering to the ground.

Final Grade: C+

Why Did I Get Married Too?

Year: 2010
Genre: Comedy
Directed: Tyler Perry
Stars: Tyler Perry, Janet Jackson, Jill Scott, Sharon Leal, Malik Yoba, Richard T. Jones, Tasha Smith, Lamman Rucker, Michael Jai White, Louis Gossett Jr., Cicely Tyson, Nia Iman Muhammad, Dwayne Johnson
Production: Lionsgate

There are movies that can inspire, make us dreamers, believers, advocates and activists. Movies that can make us feel young and transport us to places where our imaginations can take flight. Then there are travesties, calamities outright catastrophes catapulting our imaginations into absolute train wrecks. In the case of Tyler Perry's Why Did I get Married Too? its an 747 nose diving into a train wreck adjacent to a firework factory with a daycare center.

Oh the humanity!!!

I had a rough outline of what I was going to discuss for my first helping of Perry. I was going to go into a half-serious discussion on the plight of African-American movie makers and the unfair criticisms lobbed at Tyler Perry and his brand of comedy. Perhaps I could have made a few poignant remarks on the positive representation of African-American family life portrayed in his films and the underlying morality that permeates all of Perry's big-screen efforts...but no. This movie deserves no high-minded discussions or watered-down socio-economic pandering. This movie sucks plain and simple.

Our heroine everybody!

The clunky first act fakes you into a false sense of security. There was nothing particularly loathsome about it; Corny, stilted dialogue awkward staging, bad acting, nothing worth face-palming over. But after the three couples (and the awkward divorced dude) get back home, things get Days of Our Lives (1965-Present) meets Jerry Springer (1991-Present) and we, the audience are struck by septic tanks brimming with excrement passing for emotional drama. Literally everything is thrown at you at once: suspicions of infidelity, alcoholism, divorce, unemployment, cancer; the film is an evil twin brother and a murder mystery away from an Agatha Christie novel. In a regular melodrama about family, marriage and divorce its kosher to throw things like dinner plates around when things get heated, but to humiliate someone in front of their co-workers with a pink-haired male stripper popping out of a fake cake, now that's a Tyler Perry movie!

Watching the final scene where the character Patricia (Jackson) meets Dwayne the Rock Johnson a year after being an accessory to the death of her husband (via male pink-haired stripper) was the final crotch punch in this assault and battery of a film. The false assumption that she, or anyone in the film was the least bit sympathetic is simply unreal. As a result I am seriously considering this film to join the ranks of the worst I have ever seen.

Just how bad is it? Here is a list of things I would rather do than watch this movie ever again.
1. Watch "The Pirates of Penzance" being performed by a school of deaf children.
2. Be the back end of a thirty person human centipede.
3. Walk down Harlem at night with a glow in the dark spandex suit of the Confederate Flag.
4. Spend the day with Larry the Cable Guy.
5. Vote for Rick Santorum.
6. Watch all seven seasons of The Gilmore Girls (2000-2007) all the way through without stopping.
7. Do all the stunts from Jackass 3 (2010).
8. Go streaking across the stage of Jeopardy (1984-Present) while yelling "Who is Rear Admiral Sir George Cockburn".
9. Hang upside down for the length of the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy (2001-2003) (directors cut).
10. Have to listen to "Party in the U.S.A." by Miley Cyrus and ONLY that song for the rest of my life.

You think I'm joking? Just try to get me to watch this celluloid pox on our houses again and you bet I'll be "moving my hips like yeah".

Final Grade: F

The Artist

Year: 2011
Genre: Comedy
Directed: Michel Hazanavicius
Stars: Jean Dujardin, Berenice Bejo, John Goodman, James Cromwell, Penelope Ann Miller, Missi Pyle, Beth Grant, Ed Lauter, Joel Murray, Bitsie Tulloch, Malcolm McDowell, Ken Davitian
Production: Weinstein Company

When people hear of a black and white silent film produced and starring French actors American audiences go running for the hills. Haven't we moved into the 21st century? Are we not at an age where million dollar explosions and masked do-gooders gallivant across the screen in full fledged 3D? Why then would someone be as esoterically pretentious as to make a film like The Artist.

Because its freakin' awesome that's why! OK...Let me rein in some of my enthusiasm. The tale begins with silent film star George Valentin (Dujardin) on top of his game at Kinograph Studios. By chance he bumps into a would-be actress (Bejo) and helps her break into the business. But as 1929 rolls in, the invention of talking pictures derails George's career and threatens to destroy his life.

The story is as familiar as a piece of chocolate cake yet it is told in such an innovative way. Compensating for a lack of dialogue, the actors are forced to emote with every jaunty gate and jovial face crinkle. The music by Ludovic Bource follows along with the unfolding plot punctuating specific moments where it should. The implanted symbolism and confident camera movements recreate eerily similar tableaux from classic films like Citizen Kane (1941), Grand Hotel (1932) and The Mark of Zorro (1940) with aplomb.

It's a love letter to film and everyone should be reading it. Or rather watching each perfectly constructed frame. While some may believe the silent format is limiting, director Michel Hazanavicius proves it is anything but. He plays with the medium, toying with the lights, shadows, sounds and shades like an elaborate puppet show. Watching The Artist was almost like unveiling a Jackson Pollock on a cave wall. The canvas might be obsolete but the painting itself is stunning, striking, even provocative.

And as for pretension? This film is anything but. It's candy swathed in plain wrapping. A sugary sweet concoction well hidden in the upper cabinet of a gourmet kitchen. 100% pure entertainment for all ages or at least anyone who dares to laugh in silence and dream in black and white.

Final Grade: A-

The Nice Guys

Year: 2016
Genre: Comedy
Directed: Shane Black
Stars: Ryan Gosling, Russell Crowe, Angourie Rice, Margaret Qualley, Keith David, Beau Knapp, Matt Bomer, Yaya DaCosta, Kim Basinger, Jack Kilmer, Murielle Telio, Lois Smith
Production: Waypoint Entertainment

The titular "Nice Guys" are two formerly functioning members of the boys in blue who now scrounge up a living working on the fringes of the law. Holland March (Gosling) is a private dick who largely keeps his clients on a leash just long enough to get paid extra for little work. Jackson Healy (Crowe) on the other-hand barely scrapes by as an enforcer of sorts; beating people up on behalf of anyone with the right money. The two cross paths when the secretive and frightened Amelia (Qualley) hires Healy to keep March off her back, but after an escalating set of circumstances, the two boys team up to find out who Amelia really is and why she's on the run.

On the face of it, The Nice Guys has all the outward themes and calling cards that make director Shane Black's oeuvre so appealing. The story twists and turns with the erudition of a Peter Cheyney pulp novel only played up for belly laughs. There's the obligatory precocious child who's often too clever for his/her own good, this time played by Angourie Rice. Then there's the crackling dialogue whose machine-gun wit and irascible one-liners impresses even in his lesser efforts. Here, the script is a perfect blend of Lethal Weapon (1987) pacing and Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005) sardonic witticism, with a touch of seventies style to add ironic snark.

And yes, there are references to Christmas...

If one were to find fault in the film's finely tuned, well-oiled machine it'd be the obviousness of the villain. With tons of effort made to establish the film's tone and groove into the plot twists and reveals, you'd think they wouldn't tip their hand so much. No matter; less time thinking about the intricacies of the plot leaves more time to revel in Gosling and Crowe's deft, pitch-perfect acting, the gleeful, uproarious laughter and the gaudy seventies swag.

It was a simpler time

The Nice Guys is L.A. Confidential (1997) as done by Blake Edwards. It's smart, funny, effortlessly assembled and easily accessible. The story is tight and clever which more than makes up for any far-fetched tomfoolery and the themes are similar to those of Shane Black's other efforts though it never feels like he's resting on his laurels. Give The Nice Guys their due in theaters lest you wind up on the wrong end of a loaded cookie jar.

Final Grade: B

Best of Enemies

Year: 2015
Genre: Documentary
Directed: Robert Gordon & Morgaln Neville
Stars: William F. Buckley, Gore Vidal, John Lithgow, Kelsey Grammer, Dick Cavett, Noam Chomsky, Arthur Miller, Walter Cronkite, Christopher Hitchens, Matt Tyrnauer, Brooke Gladstone
Production: Media Ranch

Political documentaries are tricky things. On their face they're supposed to be persuasive. They're supposed to have a strong point of view and use a host of different techniques to form their central argument(s). As a critic, cultural observer and otherwise politically active American, I try to avoid using ad hominum attacks, baseless claims and emotional appeals when speaking with those I differ. After all, none of those tactics serve to get people closer to the truth or lacking that, some kind of compromise. Yet if all documentaries adhered to such stringent standards no one would watch them. Al Gore could have listed off and described all the scientific research in support of global climate change in An Inconvenient Truth (2006). Yet the impact of watching water levels rise and engulf New York City via computer simulation, while hyperbolic, is emotionally persuasive.

We cap our emissions by just 5%, we can finally get the Cubs to win a world series

If one were to look for a patient zero when it comes to the dawn of modern political punditry, it would likely be the 1968 Vidal vs. Buckley debate. Amid mounting Vietnam war protests, conflict within the civil rights movement, fractious inner-city turmoil and the shocking assassination of Robert Kennedy, the summer of 1968 was turning into what professionals would call "a real clusterf***k". Meanwhile the now institutional stalwart ABC News was trailing the other large networks in a quest for ratings. Due to budget restrictions, their network only had cursory coverage of the Democratic and Republican conventions taking place in Chicago and Miami respectively. So to fill time, the network hired conservative author and commentator William Buckley Jr. to give analysis and perspective to the political uncertainty of the time. When asked for suggestions on who would be his liberal counterpart he asked not to be sitting across a Communist or Gore Vidal; I suppose no Communist was available because guess who they hired?

Ta Da!

Best of Enemies analyzes the antagonistic relationship between Buckley and Vidal as they debate the issues of the day. The two trade barbs and vitriol each pretty much seeing everything wrong with society in the other. While Vidal caustically jabs Buckley's National Review magazine, Buckley continually refers to Vidal as "the author of Myra Breckinridge," Vidal's most controversial work. Despite making careers being on the opposite side of the political spectrum, both were at their heart, prep school dandies who spoke in paragraphs. Vigorous debaters till the bitter end of their confrontation, the event left indelible mark on the both of them and in the process left a mark on the country as a whole.

There were ten debates in all, thus I'm sure the issues of the day were given their due in 1968 but the film all but ignores any semblance of context. There's no deeper gleaming of the existential milieu of the time. There's little reference to the major events that surrounded the conventions nor is there any real explanation about the mechanics behind the conventions themselves and why they're so interesting by today's standards. On there rare occasion we do get nuggets of information, they're told second hand by our two subjects who flippantly add their own two cents.

You know what grinds my gears? The ERA dammit!

Best of Enemies could have been a movie about how we view 20th century history and more importantly, how contemporaries thought about history as it was unfolding. Instead the makers of the film decided it'd be better to pick apart the psychology of the pundits and the ways they approached each other. Yet by narrowing the film's focus, we also narrow the film's impact. Why should an audience care about two blowhards when they should be caring about the impact these two blowhards had on their world? It also narrows the film's marketability which as it stands only services fans of Gore Vidal. A little more context, a little more information heck a little more nostalgia could have made this documentary transcendent.

But fine, I suppose in good hands you could still flesh out a neat story from the film's odd couple. After all, co-director Morgan Neville did blow people away with 20 Feet from Stardom (2013), a documentary that similarly exposes the passions, frustrations and psychology behind backup singers. Unfortunately not even the voice-over work of John Lithgow and Kelsey Grammer could flesh out and humanize the pomposity in the room. By the time the film reaches it's "smoking gun" moment, all the venom, all the contempt and all the nastiness of the debates renders the film puckishly inconsequential. Despite most secondary interviewees concluding one side won over another; it's understood we've all lost in the end.

Perhaps in a roundabout way, that was the point of Best of Enemies; the idea that our civil discourse corrodes our society's mores and makes us more inclined to speak instead of listen. Yet let's keep this in mind, Best of Enemies is a commentary on commentary, expanding on the confrontation between two commentators and using commentators to do so. It's like a Russian nesting doll of proto-reality TV hyperbole. Only it fails to truly plug itself in a context and ultimately lionizes one talking head over another. Thus this muckraking political documentary is just as unsatisfying as most.


Final Grade: D-

Zombie Strippers

Year: 2008
Genre: Horror
Directed: Jay Lee
Stars: Jenna Jameson, Robert Englund, Roxy Englund, Roxy Saint, Penny Vital, Whitney Anderson, Jennifer Holland, Shamron Holland, Jeanette Sousa, Carmit Levite, Johnny Hawkes, Brad Milne
Production: Stage 6 Films

I saw that particularly rancid piece of gutter trash only recently and their are simply no words to describe its awfulness. I'm serious! I can go through the gambit: horrible, detestable, loathsome, revolting, abominable, inconceivable, no word exists in the English language that can accurately describe such a war crime against cinema.

Seriously, WTF!!!

And I came in with no expectations. No positive ones at least. I don't know how the movie did it but it didn't even meet my exceedingly low expectations. If this movie was a food it be lutefisk with a side of brussel sprouts, if it were a real person it'd be Hitler and Stalin's love child, if it were a depth in the ocean only James Cameron would have seen it. This movie's complete polar opposite is the cure for cancer.

But I digress, let me give you a description: After a crack team of soldiers kills a laboratory full of zombies, one manages to escape. He stumbles into a strip club and infects the ladies who develop an unquenchable bloodlust...and the need to strip. Realizing that his clientele have a ludicrous attraction to bloodied and decomposing body parts, the club owner (Englund) decides to keep them around seemingly unaware of the problems they'll likely cause. I kid you not that's the plot.

Co-starring Jenna Jameson and a hodge-podge of who cares, this movie fails on all levels. Now by this point some of you may be saying "awesome, this movie sounds like its so bad its good!" Let me be clear; there is so bad its good, so bad its bad, 12 feet of raw sewage and then this. I would not recommend this to my worst enemies and I absolutely do not recommend it to you. This is Ark of the Covenant type stuff; avoid with prejudice.

Final Grade: FFFFFFFF!!!!!!!!

Red Tails

Year: 2012
Genre: War Drama
Directed: Anthony Hemingway
Stars: Nate Parker, David Oyelowo, Tristan Wilds, Ne-Yo, Michael B. Jordan, Cuba Gooding Jr., Terrence Howard, Elijah Kelley, Marcus T. Paulk, Leslie Odom Jr., Method Man, Bryan Cranston
Production: Lucasfilm

Red Tails is one of those movies you're hoping will succeed. Aside from an HBO film and a few accolades on the History Channel, the Tuskegee Airmen haven't gotten much attention celluloid-wise. In fact most of the people who know them do so solely because their history textbooks in high school mention them in passing (under the section "African American's During the War" no doubt). The fact is approximately 445 Airmen were deployed overseas flying 311 mission over Europe and destroying 262 German aircraft. These statistics are in addition to having one of the most distinguished records protecting American Bombers during WWII.

These bombers right here...

George Lucas was aware of these accomplishments and thought the surviving members of the Tuskegee Airmen should be honored with a feature film. 25+ years later we have…this? The film mostly revolves around a small group of pilots and their commanders cleaning up the Italian countryside waiting for their first shot at the big time.

Until such time arrives, the audience has to endure a series of badly rendered CGI special effects, corny dialogue and bland characters with little to do on the ground. It seems the creators blew their budget on the first aerial battle because once in the air, the aerial acrobatics are limited to four American planes and a goofily villainous Nazi Ace.

A scar across the face? You went with that chestnut?

It almost feels like the makers of this film fought so hard for the concept that once the project was green-lighted they created the script by committee caring very little about character, historical context or even proper sound mixing. These things would be forgivable if everything wasn't so perfunctory. The tacked-on romance, phoned in racism, and inter-squadron squabbles are all so featureless that absolutely nothing sticks with you. It's a shame because the real heroes deserve much better than a film with the mentality of a mediocre theme park ride.

Weeeeeeee!!!!

Final Grade: F

Lust, Caution

Year: 2007
Genre: Drama
Directed: Ang Lee
Stars: Wei Tang, Tony Chiu Wai Leung, Joan Chen, Leehom Wang, Tsung-Hua Tuo, Zhi-Ying Zhu, Ying-Hsuan Kao, Lawrence Ko, Johnson Yuen, Kar Lok Chin, Yan Su, Saifei He, Anupam Kher
Production: Focus Features

On its face, Lust, Caution should be a heavy film composed of worthwhile themes. Set in China during and in the aftermath of Japanese WWII occupation, the film certainly has a lot to work with. Add to that an espionage tinged love angle, a competent director in Ang Lee and a two and a half hour run time, surely Lust, Caution is given a wide enough birth to become the finest of Far East imports. Sadly, despite some strong performances and adornment, the film ultimately feels shallow and inert.

The film begins with the enigmatic Mrs. Mai (Tang) calling resistance fighters just before an assassination attempt on Chinese collaborator Mr. Yee (Chiu-Wai). We then flash back to 1938 Hong Kong where the buxom Mai is but a humble, virginal student named Jiazhi who has passion for theater. Due to the Japanese invasion, Jiazhi connects herself with the shambling local resistance fighters and begins to spy on Mr. Yee. The plan; gather information and kill the man by impersonating the wife of a Hong-Kong based trading company. What begins as a simple mission turns more complicated when a love triangle forms between Mr. Yee, Jiazhi and Kuang (Leehom) a fellow student and adamant true believer in Chinese resilience.

Despite a few widely framed soldiers, the Japanese are conspicuously absent from the film. The only presumed enemy is Mr. Yee and to a much lesser extent his absent-minded wife (Chen). Jiazhi as Mrs. Mai sits with Mrs. Yee in elongated games of Mahjongg, picking up tiny pieces of gossip while the man of the house shuttles back and forth between work and home. Mai's attempts to woe her mark builds a low humming tension giving the film much needed atmosphere. It's the type of atmosphere one would expect from many of the Hollywood films Jiazhi goes to see in the movie theater though it's closest influence would arguably be Hitchcock's Notorious (1946).

Difference is, the plot eventually got going in Notorious. In Lust, Caution, the stakes of Jiazhi's gambit don't really hit home until halfway through the film. The midriff of the movie reaches a crescendo in a moment of shocking violence followed by nothing that really brings new insights or complications. It's like watching an elaborate juggling act only the performer is doing one impressive feat for thirty minutes. Sure, it's exciting at first but after a while you're thinking, "Is that it?"

When the romance is finally consummated (albeit in a sexually violent way), years have passed. The resistance evolved from a group of students into an interconnected web of lies and self-preservation. Yet through it all Mrs. Mai and Mr. Yee drift and reconnect with all the urgency of a tortoise documentary on pause. Their listless dance of seduction and deceit is punctuated by drawn-out moments of un-stimulated sex whose decadence calls attention to itself and distracts from the story. No doubt, Lee's reverence to the physical form is artistically full of merit and the warm palettes of the room where the characters play out their tryst could infuse effortlessly in a better film; but here it feels mechanical. Neither does the sex (which garnered the film its NC-17 rating) compliment the films themes of foreboding and tragedy. The story becomes downright Sophoclean yet the visuals are vivacious and stuffy.

Lust, Caution went on to sweep up all the major awards at the Venice Film Festival and was hailed during it's time as sensual, vibrant, beautiful looking espionage drama. Well not to put my head in the Golden Lion's mouth, but I take exception to the film being called sensual; pretty: maybe, but sensual: no. Sensuality implies carnal gratification of the senses. There's nothing really gratifying about ten minutes of sex scenes involving two disengaged characters trying to stem the looming specter of death and anguish. If anything Lust, Caution is a sad movie, or at least should have been if it wasn't fighting itself.

Final Grade: D+

Sing Street

Year: 2016
Genre: Musical
Directed: John Carney
Stars: Ferdia Walsh-Peelo, Aiden Gillen, Maria Doyle Kennedy, Jack Reynor, Lucy Boynton, Kelly Thornton, Ben Carolan, Mark McKenna, Percy Chamburuka, Conor Hamilton, Karl Rice, Ian Kenny, Don Wycherley, Lydia McGuinness
Production: FilmNation Entertainment

There's nothing quite like the creative process. We've all had that feeling; unfolding with all its frenzied excitement, malleable thoughts and brainstorms and inventive problem-solving. Yet creativity isn't just limited to what music you make, what stories you write, what paintings you paint. Flexing the limits of your creativity is almost like a window into your identity. Do you look for the easy fix, do you power through despite mental blocks, do you try the unexpected or bend towards an originality or an universality. So it goes with Sing Street, a movie that expands the notion of creativity itself, making an unabashedly and irresistibly charming film.

Conor Lalor (Walsh-Peelo) and his family live in a charmed dwelling overlooking the urban sprawl of South side Dublin. Due to financial strain, Conor is informed that he's being taken out of his private Jesuit high school and being transferred to a public school nearby. At first, things go miserably. He's hassled by bullies, called names openly in class and harangued by the school's principal Father Baxter (Wycherley). His only solace is watching new wave music videos with his older brother Brendan (Reynor). Things change however with the appearance of the mysterious and strikingly beautiful Raphina (Boynton) who stands on the stoop outside the school. He approaches her and asks her to be in a music video; she agrees. Next step: start a band.

Conor quickly makes friends with a gaggle of outcasts from the school in order to haphazardly start, build and maintain a fledgling little group. Among them is the multi-talented Eamon (McKenna) who can not only play multiple instruments but can put Conor's lyrics to song. It is the moments between these two young artists that best exemplifies the movie's central theme. We share with them the 4am feeling of unbounded imaginative bliss as they riff off each other, clean up their chords and rhythms and ask each other the meaning behind the songs they write. Because of Eamon's father's vocation as a covers band leader, the band not only has a place to practice but instruments to play which benefits the rest of the players as they develop their sound.

Conor uses his band not only for the purpose of wooing the girl but also as a means to escape his increasingly turbulent home life. The marriage between his mother (Doyle Kennedy) and father (Gillen) circles the drain as his dropout brother smokes hash and oozes cynicism and unrealized potential. In one moment of investigation, Brendan points to the mother who sits on the stoop, smoking a cigarette, hoping to catch the last rays of sunshine of the day. With big talk of some day going to Paris, the mother settles on these moments to sulk in bitter reflection. "I cleared a path for you." Brendan says in a moment of defeat. Seems his carefully curated collection of vinyl and his grimacing observations serve as a counterpoint to encourage Conor's brazen dreams.

Yet it's the girl who pushes Conor to the point of unique creative verisimilitude. And as the would-be model that captures the heart of our young hero, Lucy Boynton is an absolute vision. She coyly hints at gigs and glamour in London yet she lives at an all girls boarding house and dates a guy who listens to Genesis. Yet despite outward moments of confident sashaying, behind the makeup and denim there beats the heart of a true romantic and a true creative conduit. "When it comes to art, you never go halfway." she says just after she throws herself into the Irish Sea for the sake of a good video. This moment is immediately followed by Conor responding in kind.

Seriously 80's? Come on!

And yes this movie is about a new wave band in the 1980's, so yes there is a lot of hair, makeup, posh scarf wearing and mod style bravado. While today we like to take potshots at the synth-pop aesthetic, there's still something utterly charming about the way it is presented here. Is it nostalgia; probably. Yet there's an unawareness to it, allowing the audience to discover (or re-discover) the trappings of 80's popular music in real time. The excitement Brendan and Conor feel in watching Duran Duran's Rio music video is infectious, and the original songs by the band are easily the best thing about Sing Street.

Conor eventually finds a since of identity within the catchy rhythms of his songs, the jejune charms of Raphina and the kindliness of Brendan's brotherly love. The moments of kitchen sink realism serves not only as a cautionary tale to Conor but to us as well. When we refuse ourselves the rewards of creativity we risk becoming embittered, angry and resentful. In the words of Kurt Vonnegut, "Go into the arts. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow." To put it another way, go create something.

Final Grade: A-