The Good Dinosaur (Film)

After the dazzlingly sublime Inside Out (still my favorite film of 2015), it's hard to believe that a film fraught with so much behind-the-scenes turmoil would top it. But hey, Toy Story 2's production brought Pixar down to its knees, and yet it turned out to be the best film in that peerless trilogy. The Good Dinosaur's original director, Bob Peterson (a Pixar stalwart, co-directing Up and lending his voice to the characters of Geri, Roz, Mr. Ray, and Dug), was replaced fairly late in production with Peter Sohn (another Pixar regular, director of the short Partly Cloudy, and the voice of Emile and Squishy Squibbles). The trailers for the film didn't inspire me--though most Pixar trailers don't--so I was feeling a little dubious. Did the film assuage my skepticism?

The "high-concept" premise the film propounds is, "What if dinosaurs weren't killed by that gigantic meteor?" (To which that ever-ruminative philosopher Willy Wonka would reply, "What if my beard were made of green spinach?") How would dinosaurs and humans interact with each other? I'm sure there would have been a whole lot of munching going on, but the film takes a gentler, more kid-friendly approach. Actually, one of the aspects of the film that surprised me was that humans play a diminished role in the film. The only real interaction we see between dinos and humans is between the two protagonists, Arlo (a plant-eater that looks like a Brachiosaurus) and Spot, a human boy. We don't see how human societies interact with the various dinosaur societies.

In fact, the film takes a "boy and his dog" approach (in which the Arlo is the boy and Spot is the dog) to the central relationship, which makes me question why the filmmakers had to use a dinosaur and a human at all. If you're going to make a film about animals, you should have a strong story and character reason for using those particular animals--otherwise, they're just eye candy. The Lion King is a good example of how to use animal archetypes to further the story and deepen the character relationships, even if it's not 100% accurate to real life. (We all know that Scar would actually have an American accent, just like the rest of his family.) Dinosaurs are cool (or at least we think so--who knows; maybe in real life they were pathetic), but the story could've been about a prehistoric boy and a wolf making their way through the wilderness. I do think it would be intriguing to see how humans would deal with Velociraptors, T-Rexes, or even herbivores as large as the Supersaurus, but alas, The Good Dinosaur does not treat the audience to such interactions.

Another odd choice is the contrast between the lush, breathtaking, realistic environments and the cartoony character designs of the dinosaurs. I'm not going to vilify this decision as half of the Internet is doing, and indeed, it does make some sense with the filmmakers' intent that nature be the antagonist. I do think that Finding Nemo found a better balance between the environment and character design--in fact, in that film, the filmmakers found they had to pull back on the realism and stylize the backgrounds when they found their initial tests too realistic. (Polar Express/Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within, anyone?)

Speaking of Finding Nemo, The Good Dinosaur has a similar structure: two characters going on an episodic quest, meeting a variety of different characters and situations along the way. However, The Good Dinosaur's episodes feel more detached than Nemo's, and the situations less clever and humorous. One encounter features a trio of Tyrannosaurs; while they're somewhat reminiscent of the sharks in Nemo, there's no real motivation behind their behavior, much less one as amusing as "Fish are friends, not food."

The musical score, by brothers Mychael and Jeff Danna, does an adequate job punctuating the grandeur of the landscape and lends a decent amount of emotion to the more tender scenes. However, the themes didn't stick in my memory, and the Super Danna Brothers' work here doesn't come close to matching the admittedly lofty heights of Michael Giacchino's Pixar scores (save Cars 2), or even Thomas Newman's scores and Randy Newman's better efforts. There's not much quantitatively wrong with the score--I like the use of exotic instruments (especially percussion) for one--but it's still missing that intangible quality that makes a good score great.

So far, this has been a fairly negative review, but there's still plenty in The Good Dinosaur to recommend. The voice work is effective, with each actor embodying his or her character. Much of the film falls on Raymond Ochoa's performance as Arlo, and he acquits himself nicely. Sam Elliott, Steve Zahn, and Anna Paquin play the more colorful side characters with panache while not calling attention to themselves. But Jeffrey Wright and Frances McDormand as Arlo's parents prove the most impressive, their naturalistic, non-grandstanding performances making you truly believe in their characters as people instead of animated characters voiced by celebrities.

The Good Dinosaur's plot is pretty predictable, but the simple story allows the film to develop the emotional scenes that serve as its core. No, they're nowhere near as touching as the moving scenes in Inside Out, but they do feel earned. (One of The Good Dinosaur's writers, Meg LeFauve, also co-wrote Inside Out.) Some animated films today (mostly non-Disney and non-Pixar) try to shoehorn in tear-jerking scenes, but they feel manipulative and tacky. While The Good Dinosaur is not a top-quality film, especially by Pixar's standards, it still evinces the studio's adroit ability at telling stories in an emotionally meaningful manner.

Mother (Japanese TV Drama): Part 2

Read Part 1 here.

I've written all these superlatives about this show, but I haven't even gotten to the one aspect of it that left me absolutely flummoxed, alternately in unbelieving awe and near tears at its total sublimity: the acting of Ashida Mana as the young girl whom Nao "kidnaps" and saves from abuse. I'd seen Ashida in Pacific Rim, playing the young Mako Mori, and I thought she was pretty good. Her palpable fear and, even better, her look of absolute adoration toward Idris Elba's character made up probably the best acting moments in that movie. (Not that she had a whole lot of competition, even though I really enjoyed the movie as a whole.) But her acting in Mother is something else entirely.

I don't expect much from child or teen actors because, for the most part, they're still learning their craft and the fundamentals of how people interact in different situations. (Plus, I think it's kind of mean to call out a kid for not being a good actor.) In elementary school, I acted in four plays--three tiny parts and one fairly substantial part. However, I barely knew what the heck I was doing and, dare I say, so did most of the other kids in those plays. Of course, they were all better actors than I was, but even at that age I recognized that, even though the directors were truly talented and endlessly forbearing, this was children's theater; the final production wouldn't really appeal to anyone who wasn't related to or friends with one of the actors. So I never expected Ashida to be one of the better actors in Mother, much less the best. I mean, given this story's premise, I thought her acting was going to be either a) a bit bratty and obnoxious, or b) so nauseatingly treacly and cloying as to make one's teeth fall out. (Sadly, that's how most of these characters turn out).

If nothing else, Ashida is the only actress whose performance has pushed me over the edge to moistened eyes--and four times at that. Her character, Rena, despite having suffered deplorable abuse, displays a veneer of cheerfulness to the outside world. Part of this joy stems from a warm and loving core that refuses to be snuffed out completely, but Nao soon realizes that Rena is repressing her darker emotions in an effort to make others happy so that, just maybe, they'll accept and love her back. The pair's first extended encounter takes place at a diner; Nao clearly wants to be left alone, but Rena, left unsupervised by her mother, detects that Nao is a soul who both needs companionship and could possibly offer comfort to the forlorn child. Sure, Rena's attempts to endear herself to this outwardly stoic woman are cute and all, but there is a desperation behind Rena's near-incessant chatting. When Nao eventually tells Rena to (basically) shut up, Rena complies with a wide, amiable smile. Of course, it's meant to be ingratiating, but Ashida acts with impressively natural grace so it doesn't feel forced, manipulative, or tacky--which is probably how it would have come across if pretty much any other child actor (and many adult actors) had done the role.

Ashida not only embodies Rena's character to an uncanny extent, but she is also able to portray the character's inner desperation just peeking out from under her ebullient exterior. It's difficult for me, as an adult writer, to write lines for a character whose inner qualities are barely perceptible beneath a masked facade. That a five-year-old can so fearlessly yet naturally portray such a character is incredible. When I was five, my biggest challenge was deciding whether to read a book or play Reader Rabbit (which taught me the word "keg") on the Apple II during Free Choice.

As you can imagine, it's all the more heart-wrenching when Rena's despair breaks through her sunniness. There are at least four scenes (the ones that moistened my eyes) where Rena is trying so hard not to let her sadness break through and overwhelm her, but she just can't. And while it's happening, she's still trying like heck to stifle it, but the emotion just overwhelms her, coming out in agonizing spurts. These scenes, while profoundly heartbreaking to watch, also offer the sublime brilliance of an actress who understands how to portray such sadness. I know nothing about Ashida's personal life, but I'm willing to wager that she's been through nothing close to what Rena goes through. I don't know how much of the specifics she actually understood about her character's situation, but what's important is that her reactions and emotions are spot-on, imbued with compassionate sympathy. One truly feels that she is acting and reacting in the moment as a real child in that situation would; there is no visible sign of premeditation or preparation that you can find even in some very good actors--child or adult. Of course, credit must also go to the penetratingly astute writing of Sakamoto Yuji and the sensitive directing of Mizuta Nobuo and Naganuma Makoto, all of whom drew the best out of not only Ashida, but the rest of the cast as well.

Ashida went on to star in several other OK to good dramas--Usagi Drop, Sayonara Bokutachi no Youchien (written by Mother screenwriter Sakamoto Yuji), Beautiful Rain, and Marumo no Okite. All great performances, but her other non-Mother performance that utterly floored me was Ashita Mama ga Inai. She's apparently a singing sensation in Japan too, but what can I say, she just sounds like a moderately above-average kid singer. It is her acting, infused with preternatural empathy and understanding of human feeling, where her true and considerable talent lies.

Mother (Japanese TV Drama): Part 1

Prefatory Note: I will use the Japanese convention of listing the family (last) name first and the given name last--basically the opposite of how we write names in America.

I love a good action movie. From Kick-Ass and The Raid to Aliens and Die Hard, a well choreographed, directed, and edited action film thrills me, enthralls me, delights me. Indeed, what may be my favorite film, The Incredibles, features a healthy dose of pyrotechnic action alongside the ingeniously constructed story and richly realized characters.

Not to say that I have totally eschewed non-action films to this point. I have a great fondness for films such as Beauty and the Beast, City Lights, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and Moonrise Kingdom. But to say that I actively seek out soap operas and weepy TV series would be erroneous. Which, of course, is the very nature of Japanese dramas (and Korean ones too, from what I gather).

I can't quite recall how I stumbled upon Mother, or, more importantly, why I decided to watch it.  Chalk it up to an unexplainable whim, of which I admittedly have many. Maybe it's because I'm half-Japanese and wanted to "explore my roots." Maybe I wanted to see how much Japanese I could remember from high school. (Not a whole lot, as it turned out). But I got sucked into watching all 11 episodes of this exceptional series (most episodes are 46 minutes, with the first running 71 minutes and the last running 58 minutes).

Now, this is a drama in which almost all the characters--certainly all the important ones--are female. Yet in an age when many female characters are still either one-note damsels-in-distress or tough chicks, it's more than refreshing to find a show in which--just as in life--we find a wide range of female characters, each of whom feature their own complexities, nuances, and variegated approaches to life.

Here's the basic premise: A young woman, Suzuhara Nao, is subbing at an elementary school and forms a connection with an oddly perspicacious student, eight-year-old Michiki Rena. Over the course of the pilot, Nao discovers that Rena doesn't have the best home situation; an utterly despicable (yet sadly believable) act by Rena's mother sets the plot in motion…

Before I start gushing, I will say that the show isn't without its flaws. Many scenes are very deliberately paced, to put it kindly, and could have been tightened up just a bit. The penultimate episode's cliffhanger also promises more than what the finale actually delivered--not that the ending was bad, it's just that it didn't quite reach the heights of what came before. The main plot involves Nao and Rena, but some of the scenes devoted to the subplots aren't quite as engaging. But the show's biggest blunder is about three-quarters through the final episode. Just as a poignant scene is about to hit its emotional peak, those stupid sponsor logos pop up directly over the scene, complete with the a voice-over saying, "Thank you to these companies for ruining this scene," or something to that effect. It doesn't help that the smiling moon logo of the main sponsor, Kao, makes you want to punch it right in its smug little moon-face.

The acting throughout is superb. Matsuyuki Yasuko plays Nao as understated, forgoing extreme facial calisthenics in favor of a more natural approach. Her emotions churn deep inside her, yet you can tell that they're there. When the circumstances of the story inevitably cause those emotions to erupt, it's all the more emotionally affecting. Ono Machiko as Michiki Hitomi, Rena's mom, does well portraying a distasteful, pitiful character in a hopeless situation she's mostly created for herself. (Ono is also great in Saikou no Rikon, in which she plays in irrepressibly vivacious bundle of life. When some actors portray characters on opposite sides of the spectrum, it seems like they're trying too hard. Yet Ono pulls off both these disparate characters with impressive aplomb.)

Takahata Atsuko (the voice of Lady Sagami in The Tale of the Princess Kaguya) as Suzuhara Toko, Nao's mother, is an outwardly blunt, caustic hard-hitter with a deep reservoir of emotion. In one scene, she's signing an important document, and the look of utter despondency on her face, not believing what's happening and not knowing where to turn, is painful. Tanaka Yuko (the voice of Lady Eboshi in Princess Mononoke) plays Mochizuki Hana; I won't reveal her part in the story, but she deftly portrays a character whose heartbreaking forbearance stems from a deeply ingrained sense of guilt.

The dialogue (written by Sakamoto Yuji, screenwriter of the aforementioned Saikou no Rikon) adroitly encapsulates the thoughts and emotions of each character. Yes, some of the scenes between Nao and Hana are a bit slow, but these characters in particular are expressing their innermost feelings for the first time; it makes sense that they take time to get their points across.

The episodes are structured in such a way that most of them end with a cliffhanger. Each episode ends with the credits playing (unobtrusively) over the final minutes. In one episode, the credits come at the very beginning, which should tip you off that some sh*t's going to go down at the end of the episode--and boy, does it ever.

(MILD SPOILER) And, of course, in another episode the credits play over a lighthearted (though somewhat bittersweet) scene that, for those so inclined (i.e., not me), causes an "Aww, how cute" reaction. The credits end, and the scene seems to be over. The episode's done, right? Then, out of nowhere, the scene gets extremely emotional very quickly, a poignant gut-punch that devastated me, catching me completely off guard. (END MILD SPOILER)

And the mastermind behind this little scene? Tune in next time to read about Mother's most essential ingredient, the attribute that lifted it from a well-written drama into an artistic tour de force that I will keep thinking about for years to come.

Read Part 2 here.

The Iron Giant: Signature Edition

I may be biased since Brad Bird is probably my favorite living filmmaker. But The Iron Giant is still a genuinely incredible film (much like its successor) that packs a structurally airtight, good-natured, exhilarating, poignant tale into less than an hour and a half. Rife with heart-pounding action, relatable characters, and heart-wrenching moments, the movie is worthy of in-depth analysis. But for now, I'll be focusing on the Signature Edition, just released to theaters for a limited engagement.

I won't spoil the particulars of the plot here, but the basic premise is a giant robot crash lands on Earth and becomes the ward of a boy named Hogarth Hughes. Hughes finds allies in his mother, Annie, and a laid-back scrap yard owner named Dean McCoppin as he tries to conceal the giant's existence from the government, especially the pesky Agent Kent Mansley (who works for the government).

The Iron Giant did poorly at the box office in 1999; I didn't become aware of it until I saw the video at a relative's house. As a youngster, I remember being awed by the action and bold filmmaking choices. To this day, Iron Giant and The Lego Movie are still the only mainstream American animated films that I think can stand beside the very best of Disney and Pixar. So to see this film in a packed house of fellow fans was a singular opportunity I didn't want to miss.

And the audience reception was fantastic. The "hand underfoot" and lakeside scenes in particular nearly brought the house down, and there was a healthy amount of applause (and even a few cheers) at the end. The thunderous, dynamic sound mix brought clarity to every resounding footfall, weapon, and gastrointestinal burble; the late, great Michael Kamen's alternately playful and stirring score was mixed loud and proud.

The new material included an intro by Bird (expressing appreciation to the film's fans and rightly extolling the virtues of hand-drawn animation), a brief (~1 minute) sneak peak at a documentary planned for the film's Blu-ray release, a change of the Maypo commercial to something equally charming, and two entirely new scenes. Well, if you have the DVD already (and who doesn't?) you've seen the scenes already in storyboard form. But the second scene in particular is glorious to see in full animation, hinting at an even darker world lurking in the background (or the skies) of the film. The first added scene is a pleasant little moment, adding to the dramatic arcs of two of the major characters. These scenes were animated at talented animator Ken Duncan's studio; at Disney, Duncan served as supervising animator for Thomas in Pocahontas, Meg in Hercules, Jane in Tarzan, and Captain Amelia and Scroop in Treasure Planet. Other returning names I caught in the Signature Edition credits were supervising animator Tony Fucile (a regular Bird collaborator and veteran of several Disney and Pixar films) and effects supervisor Michel Gagné.

There's so much more I could say about this sublime film, but if you've seen it, you know how excellent it is already. And if you haven't seen it, what are you doing still reading this? Even if you have seen it, go see it in the theater to marvel at its splendor on the big screen. As of this writing, there's one more showing on October 4 at noon (tickets through Fathom Events). It's an awe-inspiring film, a breathtaking experience, helmed by a director about to launch a spectacular career.

Mantis Miscellany--Ranking the X-Men Films

Originally Published August 2, 2013

With the recent and continuing glut of superhero films, including reboots and re-imaginings, the X-Men films seemed to have been somewhat lost in the shuffle nowadays. The Wolverine seems to have been a minor contender this summer compared to Iron Man 3 and Man of Steel. While the quality of the six released films varies widely, it is admirable that the franchise has run on for so long without a “hard reset” as experienced by the Hulk, Spider-Man, Batman, Superman, and (in a few years) The Fantastic Four. Okay, so the first three films had three different actresses for Kitty Pryde, and Nightcrawler was jettisoned after one film, but in a world where major characters like James Rhodes (of Iron Man) and Rachel Dawes (of Batman) are replaced so wantonly, it’s a little refreshing to see attempts at continuity.

With Marvel Studios now being expertly shepherded by Joss Whedon, it falls to controversial comic book scribe Mark Millar (Wanted, Kick-Ass, The Ultimates 1 and 2) to provide guidance to Fox’s Marvel properties (namely, X-Men and the Fantastic Four). Whatever one may think of Millar’s work, one does have to admit that the mad Scot has a soft spot for fans, communicating to them on his website’s forum (forums.millarworld.tv).

However, his influence on Fox’s Marvel films cannot yet be determined, for he had little input on The Wolverine. The film was directed by James Mangold, whose CV includes a diverse array of films such as Cop Land, Girl Interrupted, Kate & Leopold, Identity, Walk the Line, 3:10 to Yuma, and Knight and Day. Darren Aronofsky (Requiem for a Dream, Black Swan) was originally slated to direct the film, which might have been interesting. Or it might have turned out as indistinguishable from the average blockbuster as Gavin Hood’s X-Men Origins: Wolverine (Hood also directed the brilliant South African film Tsotsi).  At any rate, here is my personal ranking of the X-Men films. Warning: There will be spoilers! (Though I will try not to spoil too much of The Wolverine, even though you can see the final reveal coming from a million miles away).

6. X-Men: The Last Stand (Directed By Brett Ratner)

Many comic book fans complained that this film screwed with the characters too much. I don’t know a whit about the comic book X-Men aside from Millar’s run on Ultimate X-Men, but I still thought this was a poor film. Cyclops is dispatched with little fanfare (poor James Marsden) as is Mystique, and Xavier’s “death” doesn’t feel as impactful as it could have been. Nightcrawler, one of the best characters from X2, is forgotten about completely. The film is oddly dull and slow-moving until the climax on Alcatraz, which is competently directed, but comes across as a series of sequential video game missions. First, the minor mutants fight. Once that box is checked, then we move on to Magneto. Only when that mission is completed does Phoenix (AKA Jean Grey) decide to do anything. I realize that this is dramatically sound, but the way it’s conceived and directed is clunky, thus revealing the seams and removing any sense of organic flow.

 I do love the last shot, but it does render the rest of the film moot. This includes Rogue’s final decision, and it’s telling that the filmmakers weren’t sure what they wanted her to do either. They shot two versions of her final scene: one with her taking the cure and one with her not taking it, and they didn’t decide on which one to use until showing it to a test audience (source: DVD deleted scene commentary). Overall, while the direction by Ratner isn’t terrible, it is rather flat. Much more damaging is the screenplay by Simon Kinberg and Zak Penn, which is devoid of heart and doesn’t really make me care about the characters. Kinberg in particular has not written one movie I’ve liked, and it’s one of the reasons I’m worrying a bit about X-Men: Days of Future Past. I’m hoping co-writers Matthew Vaughn and Jane Goldman can balance him out. And speaking of Vaughn, he was originally slated to direct this film, but pulled out when he realized he wouldn’t be allowed to make the movie he wanted to make. He was very critical of The Last Stand, and rightly so.

5. X-Men Origins: Wolverine (Directed By Gavin Hood)

Most people seem to have a seething hatred for this movie. I don’t think it’s all that great, but I also don’t think it’s a disaster on the level of The Last Stand. Ryan Reynolds, who can’t seem to catch a break, is reasonably funny as pre-Deadpool, and future John Carter actors Taylor Kitsch and Lynn Collins as Gambit and Silverfox, respectively. The film doesn’t come together as well as it should, with a bunch of side characters who feel shoehorned in. Logan’s relationship with Victor Creed is implausibly inconsistent. I realize that making them either best buds or bitter enemies isn’t as interesting, but the lack of depth to their relationship makes it seem like Creed’s final decision comes out of nowhere. He and Logan are slicing each other up for the whole movie, and then he just decides to leave.

The actual story of the film also takes a while to get going. After a mawkish childhood prologue, there is a neat title sequence featuring Logan and Creed fighting in different wars though time, but it sadly reduces their early relationship to a montage that focuses more on the cool visuals than on character. Then there is a lengthy excursion with Logan working for William Stryker (the same jerk from X2) and an abbreviated introduction to Silverfox and her relationship with Logan before Stryker returns. Then he gets his adamantium skeleton, and before we know it, he’s flying with Gambit to Three Mile Island for the final confrontation. It’s an oddly paced film, with some scenes seeming to stretch on, but with the whole movie feeling like it could have used more flesh on its bones. The connections to the other X-Men films (particularly with Cyclops) don’t fit well onto the spine of the story. We’ll see how director Gavin Hood does with the upcoming Ender’s Game; if that’s a dog, then we’ll know that Hood really is suited to smaller, more character driven films (like the aforementioned Tsotsi).

4. The Wolverine (Directed By James Mangold)

I was actually debating whether to put this before or after the first X-Men film. The Wolverine does have some really neat moments, and I loved that it was set in Japan, but it was let down by the final act. I didn’t really get into this film until Logan gets to Japan, which thankfully doesn’t take too long.  The film benefits from two superb female characters Yukio and Mariko, a rarity in comic book films. Neither is as great as Hit-Girl obviously, but both characters feature surprisingly nuanced portrayals with some earned emotional moments (though I do also like Anna Paquin in the first X-Men, dodgy accent aside). The former disappears for a long stretch of the film and the latter becomes a damsel in distress at the end, but both are very welcome whenever they appear. Much less impressive is Viper, who is more annoying than threatening, and I know this is superficial, but I was very distracted by that rather unbecoming beauty spot on her lip (I’m not a fan of beauty spots in general).  Frankly, she comes across as an asshole. Famke Janssen as Jean Grey gets a few nice scenes. Will Yun Lee (also seen in the prologue to the James Bond film Die Another Day) is fine as Mariko’s fiancée, though he could’ve used more screentime and development of his arc.

The final villain is severely underdeveloped, especially since he isn’t revealed until just before his demise. We don’t really get a sense of what drove him to do what he did and what changed him as a person. It certainly doesn’t help that his it’s obvious who he is long before the reveal. Logan’s struggle with immortality is interesting, but is merely touched on before it’s dropped. The early action scenes are mostly well done, with a neat bullet train sequence that is unfortunately not character-based at all, as Wolverine is fighting a bunch of anonymous henchmen. The final battle is underwhelming, though Yukio does get some nice moments and there are some consequences for Logan. Other pluses include Hugh Jackman’s portrayal of Logan and the Japan setting, but in the end, the movie ended up promising more that it delivered. The mid-credits scene, though, is pretty chill-inducing.

3. X-Men (Directed By Bryan Singer)

This film, released in 2000, arguably set off the modern superhero film craze. The duo of X-Men and X2, followed by the even better Spider-Man and Spider-Man 2 (these two are the real amazing Spider-Man films), proved that superheroes in film could be popular again. Director Bryan Singer had previously directed smaller films like Public Access, Apt Pupil, and the superlative The Usual Suspects, and proved he could adequately handle a big-budget blockbuster (though it took until X2 for him to really find his stride). X-Men has a surprisingly small feel despite a climax atop the Statue of Liberty, and the action sequences until the end are minimal. There are some uneasy touches, like the accents of Storm and Rogue, and a Joss Whedon-penned line (the “toad struck by lightning” zinger) that either Halle Barry or Singer completely misunderstood (likely both) and thus made it sound more horrible than it should have. Then again, Whedon also wrote the film’s best line (“You’re a dick.”) The actual screenplay by David Hayter (also the voice of Snake in Metal Gear Solid) is, well, solid. Get out of my mind, Liquid!

Most of the cast, including Jackman, Patrick Stewart, and Ian McKellan, is effective, and the story does an admirable job at introducing the characters and giving them depth and conflict. Rogue, played by the always-welcome Anna Paquin, happily gets a lot to do here, and in many ways it is more through her eyes than Logan’s through which we are introduced to the X-Men. Paquin superbly portrays her sense of alienation that’s actually quite affecting (if you ignore the fake accent which she thankfully dropped in subsequent films), supported by a subplot with Bobby Drake/Iceman and Mystique. In way, her character perfectly encapsulates the mutants’ struggles with acceptance in their society. It’s too bad that she was basically ignored in the sequels, though at least she got to feature in at least one film. Poor Cyclops was shafted in all three. Speaking of Cyclops, the love triangle between him, Logan, and Jean Grey isn’t quite as compelling as it could have been; Logan does come across as an opportunistic churl, and Cyclops is a bit of a cipher.  The story chugs along at a decent pace towards the climax, which is effectively staged. There is a sense of Singer and the cast getting their feet wet, so the film isn’t as polished as X2, but it’s a good introduction to these characters and their world.

2. X2: X-Men United (Directed By Bryan Singer)

X2 improves upon the first X-Men film, with more assured direction by Singer and a script that, for the most part, expands upon issues only touched upon previously. It also introduces one of the best cinematic X-Men characters: Nightcrawler. Alan Cumming gives a highly sympathetic performance as the character grows from mind-controlled killer to insecure outcast to hero. We get more backstory for Logan without sacrificing all the mystery, a temporary team-up of the X-Men with Magneto, and a truly detestable villain in William Stryker, who provides a real threat without coming across as just annoying and toothless (see Viper in The Wolverine). The theme of mutant acceptance is fleshed out with a scene featuring Iceman and his parents. This time, we not only get a sense of rejection and betrayal—his stupid brother calls the police!—but also an immediate sense of danger as Pyro attacks the police when they arrive. It’s effective, even if it borders on preachy.

There are also some great action set pieces, starting with Nightcrawler’s attack on the White House and continuing with a horrifying assault by Stryker’s forces on the X-Men mansion. The X-Jet chase with the fighter jets is kind of stupid, but is given visual interest by Storm’s “perfect storm.” The extended climax is tense and exciting with constant reversals of fortune, highlights being Logan’s fight with Deathstrike, Magneto’s manipulation of Xavier in Stryker’s Cerebro, and Jean’s “sacrifice.” But the climax does drag on for too long and seems to end several times (at 134 minutes, this is the longest X-Men film). The scene where Stryker’s son manipulates Xavier to kill all the mutants seems a little off and unconvincing. Maybe it’s because Xavier gives in so easily, or maybe because the kid in that scene doesn’t act very well (or wasn’t directed well). The final scene with Stryker drags a bit, and the whole thing gets a little cumbersome by the end. Some of the themes are stated in a heavy-handed manner as well. But these are only small issues that detract only minimally from this film’s considerable strengths.

1. X-Men: First Class (Directed By Matthew Vaughn)

Ironically, my favorite X-Men film has only one cast member from the previous X-Men films, and it’s in a cameo—though it’s probably one of the funniest cameos I’ve seen. Before the film came out, certain fanboys derisively referred to the film as a choice phrase made by taking one letter out of the word First and two out of Class (I’ll let you figure out which letters they are.) Most of them were shut up by the final product, an expertly-directed film featuring two elite lead performances and depth of character beyond any found in the previous X-Men films. The few minor hiccups include underdeveloped side characters and a wooden performance by January Jones as Emma Frost, the former due to diminished prep time and the latter due to who knows what. But these are vastly overshadowed by the film’s firm grasp of character and story structure, and much of that is probably attributable to director Matthew Vaughn.

I was a fan of Vaughn before First Class (he also directed Layer Cake, Stardust, and Kick-Ass), but was worried about how his anarchic sensibility would fit into the more mainstream world of X-Men. There are some more conventional elements, such as the side characters, but Vaughn was able to bring a sense of unpredictability and even harshness into the X-Men films. From the first scene with Sebastian Shaw (Kevin Bacon) and a young Magneto to Shaw’s demise, the aforementioned cameo, some of Magneto’s early acts, and not one but two scenes set at sex parlors, the film is at the higher end of the PG-13 rating. (The Wolverine undoubtedly benefited from the trail blazed by Vaughn in First Class). But beyond these superficial elements, Vaughn also devotes extensive time to building the relationship between Charles Xavier (James McAvoy) and Erik/Magneto (Michael Fassbender). The script, a rewrite by Vaughn and Jane Goldman from a previous draft by Ashley Edward Miller and Zack Stentz, mines the richness between the two mutants as much as a major superhero film can. The scene where Charles helps Erik move the radar dish is my favorite scene in the whole X-Men series—a perfect combination of despair, triumph, and release. Despite these explorations, the film never drags, and even the scenes with the “sidekick” mutants are entertaining. Jennifer Lawrence also does a stellar job as Mystique, creating a charismatic character who still has a ways to go before she becomes the Mystique of the first three X-Men films. Her relationship with Hank McCoy/Beast (Nicholas Hoult) is understated, and the inner conflicts of both characters deeply affect that relationship. Vaughn and the actors do a great job of bringing the characters—especially Charles, Erik, Mystique, and Beast—to life.

It wouldn’t be a major superhero film without action, and Vaughn proves that he is one of the best action directors working today. All of Erik’s early scenes are filled with suspense and brutality, including the boat scene where he runs into Charles. Shaw’s attack on the mutant compound exceeds the mansion attack in X2 in terms of terror, thrills, conflict, and emotion. The last half hour of the film is a cornucopia of exhilarating action, nail-biting suspense, and emotional release. Unlike in X2, the pace never drags and all the various action scenes are masterfully conceived and put together. Vaughn always shows the action clearly, his unobtrusive camera work letting the thrills stand on their own. There is no shortage of great moments, including Banshee’s method of flying, the sub lift, and the final confrontation with Shaw. Even after the “boss” is defeated, there is still a threat, and it relates to Erik’s character. And he is stopped not by a slash of adamantium claws or a bursting dam, but by himself when he realizes what he’s done to Charles. It all culminates in an emotional apotheosis that, while not spectacular or tear-jerking, is entirely fitting. I know I sound like a raving fanboy, but I do enjoy this film a lot, and I do acknowledge its mentioned weaknesses (yes, “mutant and proud” is pretty cheesy). It’s not even my favorite comic book or superhero film, and it’s actually my least favorite of Vaughn’s four films. But I still like it, and I can’t really apologize for that.

The Future

Next up is X-Men: Days of Future Past, directed by Bryan Singer and written by Matthew Vaughn, Jane Goldman, and Simon Kinberg. As it features both the First Class cast and the original cast in a time travel story, there is a risk that the film could become a bloated mess. I would be a little more excited about the film if Vaughn were directing (he originally was, but left, and to top it off, he’s not doing Kick-Ass 2 either) or if Kinberg wasn’t involved (unfortunately, he’s working on a Star Wars film too, though not Episode VII). Though admittedly, most of the original cast is probably in the film because of Singer. The Usual Suspects was a high peak early in Singer’s career, and one could argue that X2 was a later, somewhat smaller peak that he hasn’t matched since. After X2, Singer went on to do Superman Returns, Valkyrie, and Jack the Giant Slayer. Not a lot to inspire confidence there, but maybe he can reach his earlier heights again. There’s a lot of expectation for this film, and as it’s always a bummer to be disappointed, here’s hoping that Singer delivers.

See also Ranking the X-Men Film Scores

Mantis Miscellany--Christopher Nolan and Re-watchability

Originally Published June 8, 2013

Director Christopher Nolan has inspired two bandwagons: one consisting of devoted followers and one consisting of those who think he’s an overrated hack. There are certainly those like me who fall in between, but they are either drowned out by the screaming of the opposing camps or they simply do not wish to participate in what has become a tired debate.

If I had to generalize about Nolan’s films, I would say that he’s one of the better writers and filmmakers working today, but there are other films that appeal to me more. I have seen six of his films: Memento, the Dark Knight trilogy, The Prestige, and Inception. I enjoyed all of them on first viewing but found something troubling on repeat viewings: four of them didn’t have a whole lot of re-watch value for me.

Why should this be so? Ironically, the ones that do have re-watch value are the two with “twist” endings: Memento and The Prestige. Memento in particular remains my favorite Nolan film; it so well crafted that I don’t really care that I know the “twist.” Nolan enriches the films with subtle details and character moments that dazzle and astonish more than the large-scale action in his later blockbusters. There is also a dark humor in many scenes (I love the scene where Leonard is running, sees another guy running, then wonders whether he’s the one chasing or being chased) that works better than some of the limp attempts at humor in later films. The Prestige was especially exciting on first viewing, as I had no idea what to expect and what was going to happen. It’s the film where Nolan best captures the mingled senses of mystery and anticipation. These feelings that Nolan engenders are what make The Prestige superior to Inception to me; although the latter is structurally impressive, there is a rote, detached feeling to the goings-on.

Memento and The Prestige also have by far the least amount of action out of the six Nolan films I’ve seen. I love action films—or I should say, I love good action films. Raiders of the Lost Ark, Die Hard, the first two Terminator films, Aliens, The Matrix, The Incredibles, Kick-Ass, and The Avengers are just a few of my favorites. I even enjoy “guilty” pleasures like Speed, The Mummy, and the first Pirates of the Caribbean. But I do not think Nolan is a great, or even good action director. Batman Begins had the curse of the close-up shaky cam where you can’t tell what’s going on. Even though Nolan has since rectified this, his action scenes come across as rather plodding and prosaic. Worst of all, they fail to generate any sense of excitement or tension. The Tumbler/Batpod/truck chase in The Dark Knight is the only exception I can think of. From the muddy fight scenes in Batman Begins and the tedious fistfight with the Joker’s goons in The Dark Knight (the “sonar-vision” detracting from the scene more than anything) to the infamous, interminable “Call of Duty” snow level in Inception and the surprisingly flaccid climax in The Dark Knight Rises, Nolan’s action scenes fail to impress.

I don’t want to be to hard on a director who is clearly trying to create a more intelligent breed of action blockbuster. I certainly think he’s infinitely preferable to Michael Bay and his ilk. It’s just a shame that his action scenes come across so flat; Stephen Sommers stages and shoots better action scenes (though the stories surrounding them are vastly inferior). Sadly, many of the character scenes in the Batman films and Inception come across as lethargic as well. I don’t know whether they are brought down by the surrounding action or are just weak on their own. Regardless, individual scenes in a film have to work together in order for the film as a whole to work (duh).

The big ideas and general concepts in Inception and the Batman films (well, the first two at least) are great, but Nolan doesn’t pull them off with the finesse that I see in Memento and The Prestige. Tighter editing and better dialogue would help. I’m thinking specifically of the Rachel scenes in BOTH of the first two Batman films (recasting didn’t help and actually might have hurt), the rather on-the-nose nature of Harvey Dent’s dialogue, some of Selina Kyle’s lines regarding the haves vs. the have-nots, and the school bus scene in The Dark Knight Rises. As for Inception, many of Cobb’s scenes with Mal drag when really they should be intriguing, disturbing, and heartfelt. Instead of being the soul of the film, they feel tacked on.

But these are minor quibbles compared to the cold, clinical tone of these films. Nolan works hard to create this sense of grittiness and as a result, most attempts at creating emotion feel forced. Combining grit and heart is difficult to do well. Even great filmmakers like David Fincher (The Game) and Steven Spielberg (War of the Worlds) struggle with this, and these films aren’t among the best in their oeuvre. Perhaps Nolan should be lauded for trying to do achieve this balance, even if it takes many films until he gets it right (if ever). But as much as Nolan is praised for his “grit,” it comes across to me as more detachment than the down-and-dirty darkness that directors like Fincher and Kubrick excel at portraying in compelling ways. Nolan’s taste in music also adds to the sense of droning monotony; David Julyan and Hans Zimmer have done much better work (admittedly not in fifteen years as far as the latter is concerned, though that’s another topic).  The dreariness of both action and general atmosphere make many of Nolan’s films a chore to get through with subsequent viewings. And that’s relatively rare of films that I like the first time around.

I admit to harping on Nolan, but I wouldn’t be writing so much about him if I thought he was utterly without merit. He seems like a smart guy, and his concepts and ideas, if not truly innovative, (though what is—nothing new under the sun indeed) are certainly welcome in big-budget blockbusters. I find little wrong with The Prestige and especially Memento, but I do feel he could improve in the areas of action and emotional involvement—both heart and grit. The good news is that he did take some baby steps in terms of action from Batman Begins to The Dark Knight, so maybe he will learn to develop his skills instead of becoming complacent. Although I was looking forward to Interstellar a little more with Spielberg at the helm, (still a missed opportunity as far as the score goes—what we could have gotten with John Williams!) I am still eagerly anticipating it as another step in Nolan’s growth and evolution as a filmmaker.