MISTER LONELY
review by Zach Malm
Starring Diego Luna, Samantha Morton, Denis Lavant and Werner Herzog
Directed by Harmony Korine

It’s been at least a month since I saw Harmony Korine’s latest film, Mister Lonely, and I can’t get it out of my head. It’s an odd, poetic, surprising work, and yet it still manages to be easily Korine’s most accessible film to date. It feels more structured than his previous two films, Gummo and Julien Donkey-Boy (he also wrote Kids when he was 19), and demonstrates an increase in maturity.

Watching the film was a strange experience for me, and writing about it proves rather difficult (as practically ever review I’ve read makes pains to point out). The plot, which isn’t necessarily the focal point, is in two pieces, with neither explicitly intersecting the other. There are definite tonal connections, however, and I suspect Korine would rather have the audience draw their own connections than force them to accept whatever connections he sees.

The primary story revolves around a Spanish Michael Jackson impersonator living in Paris, though knowing little of the language. He meets a Marilyn Monroe impersonator, played by the always fantastic Samantha Morton, who convinces him to move to a sort of hippy commune inhabited solely by impersonators. She’s married to Charlie Chaplin, and their daughter is Shirley Temple. The commune is also home to the Pope, James Dean, Madonna, Sammy Davis, Jr., and a rather short-tempered Abraham Lincoln, among others.

The other story involves a group of skydiving nuns.

I guess I have to elaborate on that a bit. Basically, the story is that the nuns, and a priest played by Korine’s hero, Werner Herzog (the filmmaker perhaps best known now for his recent documentary Grizzly Man) are flying over some poor villages and dropping food packages when one nun falls out of the plane. She miraculously survives, and the others see it as a miracle, and an opportunity for them to take part in a test of faith.

One of the most moving sequences in the film involved imagery of the impersonators’ life on the commune, set to an old version of “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” Listening to this song, I found myself thinking of Jesus’ words in Matthew 10:39 – “Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” This film is full of characters who are trying to lose their lives and leave their old self behind, but for all the wrong reasons. They aren’t leaving behind their self in order to cling to Jesus, to what is true. They are all looking for friendship without truth, not even knowing the real identities of the people behind the personas. Like the impersonators he befriends, Michael feels a sense of safety while in character that he doesn’t feel as himself. He prefers to live as someone else’s defined persona rather than carve out his own identity. These “entertainers” are in pain, and the song serves to show the answer that the characters aren’t able to see themselves. “O what peace we often forfeit, O what needless pain we bear, All because we do not carry everything to God in prayer.”

Ultimately, this is a film that will probably only appeal to a small segment of the film-going public, but those who do enjoy it will find it to be unlike anything they’ve ever seen: obtuse and accessible, melancholic and joyful, arty and plain, beautiful and ugly. There were slow, meandering shots, dreamlike montages, bits of old hymns, and surreal humor (a rant from Honest Abe while he spun a basketball on his finger had me in stitches). You’ll probably wind up scratching your head, but trust me, there’s some real meat in there if you let yourself stew on it for a while.

- Zach Malm is our contributer focused on Independent films; with a degree in studio arts, Zack took classes on media studies and foreign cinema, wrote some movie reviews for college papers, and spent a semester in Los Angeles studying film from a Christian perspective and interning for John Malkovich’s production company, which produced films like Ghost World and Juno. Movie he’s watched an embarrassing amount of times - Bottle Rocket (maybe 80 times?) Favorite Directors - Terrence Malick, Lars Von Trier, Woody Allen, Werner Herzog, Billy Wilder

WANTED
review by James Harleman
starring James McAvoy, Angelina Jolie, and Morgan Freeman
Directed by Timur Bekmambetov
Rated R

It’s been the eternal question on no one’s lips: what would happen if The Matrix and Fight Club had a baby? At least now, we know it would be Wanted… a high octane, man-up, power to the people bootstrap bonanza that embraces its utter absurdity with relish.

Y2K was in full swing, and movies were both fun roller coasters and bleak commentary all at the same time. It was 1999, and two anthem movies for men hit the market: The Wachowski Brothers blended conversion, Christ, and Buddhism into a magnum opus Matrix that fueled testosterone, visual effects, coffee-conversation and even sermons (the least interesting things it spawned were two tepid sequels). Meanwhile, David Fincher’s adaptation of Chuck Palahniuk’s Fight Club took a stab at our confusion in regard to masculinity, merchandising, therapy, social expectations, fragmented personalities and terrorism. From Brad Pitt’s semi-sermon about being in a “spiritual war” to Morpheus’ pill-popping, reality-bending revelation for Neo, cubicle dwellers responded with cheers and excitement at the idea that life had more purpose and meaning, and that they didn’t need to be lemmings scurrying around in an dehumanizing, politically correct landscape. All was well with the world?

It’s now 2008, and not surprisingly most of those men are still in the cubicles, pacified and subdued by Swedish furniture and how many friends they have on Facebook, tapping at their ergonomic keyboard and complaining about carpal tunnel. Whether they are secretly yearning for that dream of sweet release again will soon be evident, as Wanted seeks to deliver two hours of fleeting hope to the emasculated masses.

Adapting the graphic novel of the same name, the film takes the comic book property and borrows heavily from the style of The Matrix and the male empowerment theme of Fight Club, with a splash of another 1999 classic - Office Space. Some would also describe it as this year’s Shoot ‘Em Up, but in any case it’s a familiar superhero romp with a character who gives the finger to his own internal weakness, his dead-end job, his cheating girlfriend, his waste of a friend, and pretty much ALL the powers that be. Much like this years apocal-epic Doomsday, it seems more like an homage to successful films that have come before it… but this one succeeds in probably being the film that is the most fun this year, save for the crowd-pleasing Iron Man.

25 year old office drone Wesley Gibson (James McAvoy) is meandering through his meaningless life when he meets Fox (Angelina Jolie), an intense woman who pushes him out of the way of gunfire and engages in a spectacular shoot-out. She informs Wesley that the attacker has already killed his father, who was apparently the greatest assassin in “The Fraternity”, an ancient order that carries out assassinations based on a mysterious system of fate. Wes learns quickly that he has been wasting his life, that he has the ability to curve bullets and the inherent gifting to literally shoot the wings off of a fly. Brought into the assassins’ fold, the Fraternity helps the previously oblivious man hone his dormant powers… not just to join them in killing people as the “loom of fate” decrees, but so that he can avenge his father’s death. However, like any good fast-paced action movie, Wesley soon learns there is more going on in The Fraternity than meets his sharpshooting eye.

The foundational ideas the film toys with (amidst gunfire, fisticuffs, and car chases) are “living a lie” and the inevitability of “fate”. Wesley believed the world operated in a particular, mundane way, walking along like everyone else until a stunning moment of revelation revealed the truth of the world… that there is much more to his existence, a larger narrative arc to life and everything in it. He realizes His father and his own destiny are things he never considered (or never wanted to admit). This is not unlike the experience a Christian describes, coming to an awareness of the true metanarrative overarching human existence… that humans are more than mud and cells and abiogenesis and ultimately the grave: that our beginning, and our end, and our hero, all pivot on the cross, divinity, victory and person of Jesus Christ.

Like Wesley, I was 25 when overwhelming revelation irrevocably changed my life. While not marked by curved bullets, curvaceous assassins and abandoned factories, the overturning of “normal” is the experience of the transformed believer.

At one point in the film, Wesley literally struggles his way through a demolished loom and its scrambled threads, which takes on the appearance of a spider-web; for all intents and purposes he is tangled in a “web of fate”. The movie not only implies some kind of intelligent design to the fabric of existence, but that - no matter what we do - fate will catch up with us. Though Wesley is freed from his former life, we begin to see on multiple levels that he has been carefully and meticulously led into this “freedom” and that certain ends seem inevitable. This facet of the film begs the question: how much control do we have over our lives, and who is pulling the strings? Are we a slave to our design? Is there a designer? Is there someone weaving us into a narrative from which there is ultimately no escape? Can we trust in it, or them?

“Fate” is often a way of implying design, prescription, and predestination, while safely dodging the deeper question of who or what is guiding it, or how it is being determined. Even as Wesley peels away the human layers of deception and manipulation, it still remains clear that something is at work, and he has become an instrument of this force. When he boasts of taking control of his own fate, it rings hollow: he may simply have followed “fate’s” wishes with the benefit of having his desires temporarily in line. I’m not suggesting this is a bad thing, though a faceless fate is certainly a harsh master. As I’ve been blessed to understand, when a Christian is truly “freed” from the world and its destructive path, that freedom reveals one’s design as an image-bearer and servant of God, taking joy in the restored connection; it is not a freedom “from” something, but a freedom TO something. As the apostle Paul said, “For though I am free from all, I have made myself a servant to all.” As Wesley inherits his true father’s legacy, the Christian similarly finds favor as our true father is revealed: “so you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God.”

McAvoy is not as nimble in Norton was in Fight Club, providing voice-overs about his pathetic life and evolving from wimp to warrior, but he is functional and fully enjoyable. Honestly, he’s more versatile and accessible than Keanu Reeves’ Neo with that stunned look and “whoa”. As Fox, Angelina Jolie does a tremendous job transmitting much more while saying much less; rumor is she cut many of her lines believing her character would communicate through expression, and it pays off. This time, less is truly more. Morgan Freeman appears as Fraternity head Sloan and delivers the quality we expect from this veteran even when he’s in an essentially silly movie. Russian director Timur Bekmambetov brings a relentless rhythm to the film that keeps the audience excited and smiling.

If you like the films it borrows from heavily, you will likely enjoy Wanted.

The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian
Rated PG
Reviewed by Aaron Webb

The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian is the second in the motion picture fantasy franchise created from the books by C.S. Lewis. The story recounts the adventures of the four Pevensie children, Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy, as they re-enter Narnia to help Prince Caspian fight for his rightful place on the throne. In this installment, directed by Andrew Adamson (Shrek) and starring an ensemble cast of newcomers and well-known’s, we see a darker, wilder Narnia, with more action and deeper character development than either the book or the first film.

Narnia came on to the latest fantasy film craze a little late and in some ways it shows. Production-wise, the film is fairly good with breathtaking scenery and sets. However, after ten and a half hours of The Lord of the Rings and five Harry Potter movies, the general audience may not appreciate some of the locations (many of which were filmed in New Zealand) and effects. In places the CGI seems overdone and cheap, but on the other hand, the costuming and small sets are done quite well. Giving the Telmarines (revealed to be seafarers that ended up in Narnia through an island cave) a Spanish conquistador air is clever and successfully done, and the high point of costuming is the Telmarine costumes inspired by the unconventional Spanish Renaissance painter El Greco. A conscious effort was made to make the world look Medieval, as while only one year has passed in England since the Pevensie children left Narnia, 1300 years have passed in Narnia since Aslan (voiced by Liam Neeson) broke the stone table, and Narnia has entered into a dark, savage age.

What really carries the film is the range of the actors involved. Adamson should be commended for casting the right dwarves. Consciously casting Warwick Davis (Willow) against type was a wise move. Davis is a talented actor, and the opportunity to play a more sinister character gratifyingly expands his range and demonstrates his ability. Davis’ rendition of Nikabrik does not disappoint. But, it is Peter Dinklage (Living in Oblivion) that steals the show as the grumpy, sarcastic dwarf Trumpkin. Eddie Izzard gives a great voice to Reepicheep making him a bit more sinister and dangerous than his book based counterpart. Ben Barnes excellently creates a weird Inigo Montoya/Antonio Banderas fusion in his rendering of a Spaniard-inspired Prince Caspian. Skandar Keynes handles the character heavy role of Edmund quite well, casting a subtle yet well-developed shadow of maturity over the other Pevensie children. Behind the cast of main characters, a cadre of Hispanic and Italian actors gives great character to the Telmarines. Led by Sergio Castellitto (King Miraz), Pierfrancesco Favino and Damián Alcázar play a great foil to the star-studded line up of main characters.

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A Review of The Fall
by Claudine Elizabeth Miller
Directed by Tarsem (Singh)
Rated R

Bandits! Smart Monkey! Oh My!

But, being as how this review is supposed to be longer than 10 words, here are my reasons why you should see Tarsem’s The Fall:

Reason #1: Sure, Tarsem (he has recently dropped his surname, Singh, for his filmmaking credits) was the director of the icky and poorly cast The Cell, but he does have a way with fantastical visual imagery. From the first shot to the last, The Fall captures you with such epic, poetic, vibrant images that perfectly brings to life a story that is running through the mind of a young child. I must admit, I was quite skeptical about seeing this film. After all, the reviewers were already calling it a “vanity piece”, “ostentatious”, and “flat”. But with the opening sequence (a black and white hauntingly beautiful shot involving a train bridge, an old steam locomotive, a Native American, and a horse hanging from a rope) I was sucked in.

Watch the trailer

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A Review of The Incredible Hulk
by Pastor James Harleman
Starring Ed Norton, Liv Tyler, and William Hurt
Directed by Louis Letterier

I can remember my Dad racing home furiously in our Volkswagen Beetle, hoping to drop us in front of the television before the pilot for the 1970s Incredible Hulk began. We rarely missed an episode, and read the comics together from my youth into adulthood. It became such a father/son bond that in 2003, he came up to see a midnight showing of Hulk, the oft-maligned Ang Lee outing that these lifelong fans did not find lacking. As the familiar piano music of the “Lonely Man” theme plays (which always accompanied the fugitive Banner in the 70s show) I find myself a touch melancholy seeing the sequel without my father, who passed away in 2005. With decades of watching, reading, and relationship intertwined with this less than jolly green giant, I hoped 2008’s movie would truly live up to it’s added adjective: “incredible”.

I’ll answer the question on everyone’s mind (and make the Hulk angry - you wouldn’t like him when he’s angry): as far as the films go, The Incredible Hulk is NOT as good as its recent Marvel movie brother, Iron Man. The way THAT film took off and blew the pop-cultural consciousness, I’m not sure there’s any way even The Incredible Hulk could have delivered the same punch. Director Louis Leterrier’s style is complementary to Jon Favreau’s, but the pacing, effects and editing fall short of the heights to which Iron Man soared.

Still, it IS evident that Marvel Studios is creating something of a house style, and the film fits nicely in the same stable as Iron Man. From the opening credits showing military equipment by Stark Industries to the ending scene with Robert Downey Jr. the film takes its place as a successful, enjoyable installment in the expanding “Marvel Universe“. As the character and narrative are not intended to be as light as this summer’s Iron giant, the new Hulk film falls tonally somewhere between the Iron Man and X-Men films, probably due to the fact that screenwriter Zak Penn wrote both X2 and X-Men: The Last Stand.

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A review of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
by Pastor James Harleman
Starring Harrison Ford and Shia LeBeouf
Directed by Steven Spielberg
Rated PG-13

Preppy teenagers cruise along in a 50s roadster, urging the square-jawed men with serious faces next to them to loosen up and enjoy the ride. The latest Indiana Jones installment, with a 65-year old Harrison Ford reprising his role as the archeologist/adventurer, opens with a whimsy and nostalgia that beckons us to do the same. The film plays early on with reflections and nods to the previous installments, and tests whether we’re ready to go for another serial-inspired expedition into the world George Lucas and Steven Spielberg birthed more than 25 years ago.

I revisited Raiders of the Lost Ark the weekend before “Skull” opened, to glean some fresh perspective on the classic versus carrying a few decades of accrued childhood warmth into my expectations. Raiders is fun but clunky, awkward in places yet always entertaining. It still holds a place in my list of top 10 films. However, it is not perfect, or entirely even; despite its flaws and age, however, it has an undeniable charm and energizing spirit that pervades and lingers as John Williams’ score trumpets at the credit roll.

So, with the worn, trusty Indiana hat dusted off, I saw the fourth flick downtown with friends at Seattle’s famous Cinerama, hopped up on Top Pot Donuts and sweetened coffee. Collectively, feelings were mixed, but although it was a bit of a bumpy ride (much like the kids in the 50s roadster, bounding over country fields) overall I was satisfied. While not as good as the original, inspired piece of pop culture offered up in the 80s, the journey to the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is a worthy reunion of Jones and the generation raised on his machismo.

After scuffling with commies at a mysterious hanger in nuclear testing territory, Jones finds himself under the scrutiny of McCarthy era Feds who question his allegiance, even for the military service we find out he gave during World War 2. When Jones runs into Mutt Williams (Shia LeBeouf), a greaser with ties to a few of Indy’s old friends, he realizes that the Reds are after a crystal skull that has some connection to El Dorado, the fabled City of Gold. Traveling to the Amazon, reunited with old friends and discovering new family, the aged adventurer must come to terms with loss, mistakes and regret… and in the process he finds new things to fight for, and new things to live for. (more…)

A review of IRON MAN (PG-13)
by Pastor James Harleman

I sat through Black Sabbath’s classic “Iron Man” tune, watching the film’s techno-credits dazzle until the familiar scroll kicked in. The friends who’d accompanied me and sat through the two-hour rocket of a film stood up from their seats, but then glanced back at me; I shook my head, pointed to the screen, and remained. With a sigh, they sat back down. The payoff was well worth it, whether you were astonished by the teaser scene that followed the movie’s credits or whether you just listened for the sound of comic fan-boys going into seizures throughout the auditorium.

The guy with the Fantastic Four T-shirt behind me stared blankly at the screen and mumbled to his compatriot, “I think I just soiled myself.” An odd but awestruck offering on the altar of Stan Lee. Thankfully, I’m pretty sure he was joking. However, this thrill ride of a flick, propelled by tight, slick direction by Jon Favreau and fueled almost entirely on Robert Downey Jr.’s charisma, has an amazing test flight that sets a high bar for the summer movies to follow.

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A review of RUN, FATBOY, RUN
by James Harleman
(Rated PG-13)

“… let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us…” - Hebrews 12:1b

Marathon becomes metaphor in this story of the everyman’s desperate flight from role and responsibility. Although the story is as old as the sin of Adam, this story - written by Simon Pegg and Michael Ian Black, directed by David Schwimmer - is acted beautifully by the comedic and oddly charming Simon Pegg. While this romantic comedy is more standard than Pegg’s previous, zombified offering (Shaun of the Dead) many of the themes are similar. With shades of both American and British comedy, a touch of Disney but a hint of dark humor, Pegg brings the blend together to make a thoroughly engaging film. Neither a fan of “Friends” or Schwimmer in general, I was impressed by his direction of the film, which is shot entirely on location in London.

Pegg portrays Dennis, a man who literally runs like a schoolgirl from the altar, leaving bride-to-be Libby (played by Thandie Newton) in tears… not to mention pregnant. Five years later, when Dennis realizes his almost-wife and mother of his child is getting serious about an American businessman named Whit (Hank Azaria), he desperately wants to prove himself and win her back. As a clumsy gesture, he enters himself in the charity marathon the fit Whit has entered, hoping to demonstrate he can actually finish something for once in his unremarkable life. (more…)

A Review of Doomsday (R)
by Pastor James Harleman

When a movie comes out called Doomsday, it invariably draws ones mind to many other end-of-world films that have graced (or smeared) the silver screen over the last several decades. There are so many creative ways the apocalypse might be ushered in, after all. It could be zombies, infections, decay of social order, climate change, a cataclysmic event throwing us back to the stone age (or the thunderdome) with a broken statue of liberty tipped like the leaning Tower of Pisa and Will Smith saving the world. However, with so many days of doom lurking in the cinematic shadows of the past, what’s a tough girl like Eden Sinclair (actress Rhona Mitra) to do? Apparently, imitation is the highest form of flattery… as Eden literally runs and drives through at least four or five classic films in the “new” film by director Neil Marshall (The Descent).

I remember a story as a child about “The Borrowers“, cute little people who lived in the walls and borrowed small items from the homeowners (this explains your lost keys, toys, buttons, etc.) so they could live. Marshall’s film lives off of borrowing, from Danny Boyle and Mel Gibson to Peter Jackson and John Carpenter. Gibson, your keys are in Eden Sinclair’s Bentley. Mr. Carpenter, “Doomsday” is in your floorboards. Admittedly, like the titular characters of that childhood book, the film is actually pretty cute… in a devastating, end-of-world kind of way. (more…)

What’s that limping slowly in the distance? Wow, that guy looks half-dead… WAIT! He doesn’t look half dead… he IS dead. So… like, why is he making a movie?

In case you’re wondering, I’m not talking about a character in George Romero’s latest zombie flick, Diary of the Dead. I’m talking about Romero himself.

Okay, I disagree with some folks on his last undead foray, Land of the Dead. I’ll concede it wasn’t a horrible film, but it wasn’t up to par with his groundbreaking Night venture or the Dawn and Day sequels that followed. “Land” was his prior worked served up with an extra helping of cheese. Sadly, the limping “Diary” is (like a zombie) entirely in shambles.

The story is traditional zombie fare: small group of characters hear early reports of dead returning to life, they gather together in panic and confusion and hit the road, wind up at an isolated house or two, get surprised and/or surrounded by zombies, etc. The conceit of the film is that we are watching it Cloverfield-style: amateur video, although not a single camera, but amateur footage edited by our young adults, who happen to be film students caught up in the apocalyptic madness. It’s not a terrible premise, but in light of Cloverfield’s masterful success, this doesn’t feel intentionally amateur. It feels amateur-amateur.

Instead of moving forward with the undead world he created, Romero attempts to rewind, recording a new zombie apocalypse that serves as a social commentary on the effect of media, our detachment from our surroundings, our rubbernecking obsession, and that darn thing the kids use these days called the “internets”. That’s right, Romero’s striving for relevance makes him look like an old man desperate for cutting edge social commentary yet poking at it with a dull blade. The movie beats you over the brain with insipid platitudes and characterizations of the youth today and their MySpace pages, pushing the notion that THIS is how we’ll inform the world about the truth out there. Fox Mulder would be so proud. To quote Christopher Walken from Batman Returns: Yawn.

Worse still, the movie suffers from what appears to be the early stages of 1982 Blade Runner syndrome… meaning that it appears that the movie was made and someone (Romero, the studio) didn’t think it was strong enough in its original cut. So, how to make it brainless for the zombie viewers? Wrap it with commentary and splashy editing, sprinkling a needless narrator throughout to make it feel even MORE contrived. Smart thinkin’, suits.

Seriously, there is a scene in the movie where some overacting hicks are shooting at a zombie they’ve hung up for target practice. As they blow it to pieces, a bloody tear comes down it’s cheek (evoking that old litter commercial with the sad Native American stereotype) and the passionless narrator asks “do we DESERVE to be saved?” This is the kind of preachy treacle artists accuse Christians of bludgeoning viewers with in Christian-made films. Don’t get me wrong, I love movies with a message; this whole website exists on the premise that nearly every film contains a worldview or sermon inherent in the narrative. Exploring those themes and messages is fun. However, when a zombie movie lumbers at you with this much syrupy sermonizing, you want to shoot yourself in the head.

I would unpack the films narrative themes, but sometimes it just isn’t worth it. Better to remember some of the zombie narrative themes from great genre offerings like Shaun of the Dead (I’ve just posted the audio review of that GREAT film for you, just follow this link) or good ones like Resident Evil. Peeking into someone’s diary might sound titillating, but only if the person is interesting.