Close Encounters of the 4th Kind

It’s important to note that the Fantastic 4 superhero team created by writer-editor Stan Lee and artist Jack Kirby in the early 1960s helped Marvel Comics transition from the small time publishing shop it once was to the incredibly lucrative conglomerate that it currently is. Lee likened his four heroes to a misfit family that bickers and argues until it’s time to band together and save the world from the various evil forces that attempt to destroy it. And the Fantastic 4 were supposed to be fearless and flawed and dare I say....human. If a team out of a comic book was ever intended to be both fun and nuanced within the confines of cinema, then surely it should have been this one. And yet the latest attempt at a live-action Fantastic 4 film as already been met with horrendous reviews along with heated stories of director Josh Trank (“Chronicle”) and Fox Studio heads at odds with one another over the final bruised and battered product.

I would like to say that the new “Fantastic 4” is by no means the abomination many are claiming it to be. It’s almost a good movie in fact and that is perhaps why it’s so frustrating at times to watch. Like old episodes of the Twilight Zone, where character trumped effects, the film starts with promise. Reed Richards (Miles Teller “Whiplash”) is a boy genius and social pariah who assembles a teleporting machine where items and potentially people can transfer from one realm of the universe into another. Richard’s tweaked demonstration of this technology years later at a high school science fair lands him a scholarship position at a top secret government lab run by Dr Franklin Storm ( Reg E Cathey of “House of Cards”). There he meets lab colleagues Sue and Johnny Storm (Kate Mara “House of Cards” and Michael B. Jordan “Fruitvale Station”) as well as misanthropic Victor Von Doom (Toby Kebbell “RocknRolla”). Together this brainy group of misfits constructs a space shuttle that can venture into different dimensions of space and time. And the game group of more indie oriented actors at work here keeps these initial proceedings afloat even when the pace drags. Teller and Mara have a nice easy chemistry; flirting amidst keyboards and tech jargon. Jordan has a sparky delinquent charm as the authority adverse Johnny and Kebbell brings an appropriate passive aggressive intensity to Doom. It’s also welcome to see Jamie Bell (“Billy Elliot”) sporadically pop up as Reed’s flinty childhood running buddy Ben Grimm, although sadly he isn’t given much to do.

And after an unsanctioned space voyage takes our leads into another realm and onto “Planet Zero” and they encounter their powers for the first time afterwards the film takes on an especially unusual Cronenbergian edge. Seeing Teller’s Richards with arms and legs outstretched to the max on a surgical table overseen by shady government scientists is more akin to a horror film than a superhero flick. He feels more like a lab rat being toyed with and his reactions range from befuddlement to rage as he’s being observed through a looking glass by a conflicted Dr Storm. It’s an inspired moment of dark majesty in a film that could have used more as it progressed. But then the wonder starts to fade and what logic the film did have goes out the window completely.

Cut to a year later and Richards is an escaped fugitive moping about in Central America as Sue and Johnny, developing their invisibility and body flaming/flying powers respectively, are confined as military assets under program supervisor Dr Allen (Tim Blake Nelson “O Brother Where Art Thou”) as is Bell’s enemy tank throwing The Thing. Similar to say the raptors in “Jurassic World” this supernatural ensemble is intended to be weaponized and not soon after Dr Allen announces said shameless plot device broody Dr Doom emerges from a trip back to earth to take down the entire planet. Because you know....he doesn’t like people very much.

What is also problematic is that the big action finale pitting the reunited 4 against Doom all takes place on “Planet Zero” instead of earth where the stakes would have been much higher. It culminates into a shoddy effects driven sequence that feels more tacked on than necessary and at that point it’s no more than freaks against freak doing battle with little to no consequence. Siding with the 4 here should be a no brainer because they like each other and can now function as a team. Or at least that’s the intention. In the end though, “Fantastic 4” is too thoughtful in part to be completely written off yet too disjointed a film to wholly recommend. Maybe if Fox had interfered less and Trank directed more this movie would have been completely fantastic.

The Great White Hope

There is something inherently melodramatic about boxing.  Two fighters in a ring duking it out with one man standing as the victor after a good 15 rounds all bloody and bruised is both entertaining and cathartic to an audience.  Champions are forged out of such bloody victory and it’s never a stretch for a filmgoer to align his or her own personal struggles with that of a pugilist taking punches in a ring.  Boxing movies have their own specific allure because of this and we’ve had a plethora of them over recent years.

“Southpaw” can now be added to the bunch and it should be said from the start that, while far from a pulpy visceral masterpiece like Scorsese’s “Raging Bull,” this film is not without some fine acting moments and lingering power of its own.  An impressively lean and mean Jake Gyllenhaal stars as rough and tumble boxer Billy “The Great” Hope who we first see getting pummeled severely by a younger up and coming fighter attempting to claim Billy’s light-heavyweight championship title.  This opening bout is introducing us to Billy’s fighting style (or lack thereof) in which he has to get hit harder and harder until he snaps and unleashes a flurry of punches that finally flatten his opponent into submission.  It works and Billy has won again but he’s an aging past his prime fighter at this point and such a reckless offensive style is taking a toll on his body and face much to the chagrin of his wife Maureen (a fine and feisty Rachel McAdams).

Maureen is urging Billy to take time away from fighting just as his manager (Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson) is now offering up an incredibly lucrative 3 fight deal to Billy that could set him, his wife, and his loving daughter Leila (Oona Lawrence) for life.  Billy is no sooner pondering as to what to do when a sudden tragedy unfolds at a Charity function which ends in Maureen being shot and killed.  Not long after he starts losing everything including custody of his daughter.  Now broke and alone he seeks the council of trainer Tick Wills (an excellent Forest Whitaker) who ultimately takes Billy on so he can get his life and daughter back.

Suffice it to say that the script written by Kurt Sutter  (“Sons of Anarchy”) is far from subtle and accompanied by sometimes heavy handed direction by Antoine Fuqua (“Training Day”). This film occasionally annoys and frustrates due to the ridiculousness of the situations being presented especially when Billy is lashing out with suicidal tendencies in wake of his wife’s death.  Being gritty has never been an issue for Fuqua but there are times when the grimness of his films can ambush the efforts of the considerable actors he’s often able to obtain with “Southpaw” being no exception.  

And credit should be given to these actors who make do with what they’ve been given starting with Gyllenhaal as the doomed force at the film’s centre.  His mumbling palooka is another startling physical transformation for the actor especially considering his last portrayal was as freakishly rail thin camera man Lou Bloom in last year’s “Nightcrawler”.  Gyllenhaal bulked up here considerably and has the ripped look and leering gait of a boxer. He’s also credible inside the ring as well after an intensive 5 months of boxing prep which supposedly included 2 a day work-outs at least 6 days a week.  His muscular and tattoo laden appearance will get attention for sure, as well as his sporadic fits of anger, but the internal work he does here is even more surprising.  Billy Hope is very much a street kid who used boxing ferocity as a way out of poverty but he’s still in the mindset of a teenager who hasn’t allowed himself to grow up until now when he’s being forced to do so.  Gyllenhaal plays these scenes with a growing sense of awareness and modesty and his transition from stunted manchild to wary adult provides “Southpaw” with an unexpected poignancy.  Other members of the cast also shine.  McAdams has great chemistry with Gyllenhaal and their scenes together allude to a long history of surmounting the fight game together.  Lawrence imbues Leila with a fiery intelligence and maturity that her father initially struggles to understand which goes against the more familiar whiny and helpless kid routine.  And Whitaker is tremendous as the fight trainer Wills, layering his portrayal with flinty humor and dignity as well as flickers of self doubt not commonly associated with such a stock part.

As the last big fight approaches it’s still not hard to get engaged in all the genre trimmings complete with a training montage and thumping Eminem soundtrack even though we’ve seen it all before ranging from the likes of “Rocky” to “The Fighter.”  Billy Hope is now entering the fight of his life and from the looks of it so was Gyllenhaal.  His bolder acting choices occasionally kick Fuqua’s formulaic film into unexpected territory for the genre.  And I at least have hope for whatever this increasingly fascinating film actor decides to do next. 

   

      

A Freak and A Geek

Judd Apatow has always had a knack for merging the raucous and rowdy with the heartfelt in both tv and film. His better efforts like “Freaks and Geeks”, “Knocked Up”, and “The 40 Year Old Virgin” are astute examples of this kind of fine tune balancing but as of late he had seemed to lose his touch a bit as anyone who saw the mostly sentimental and unfunny “This is 40” can attest. I’m happy to report that “Trainwreck” starring and written by the brazen and fearless it girl comedienne of the moment Amy Schumer is a fine return to form (possibly because Apatow was just directing and not writing this time). It may also become, in my humble opinion, the most emotionally satisfying comedy of 2015.

The film begins in flashback as Amy and her young sister are getting tough love advice from their philandering father Gordon, wonderfully played by former SNL alum Colin Quinn, as well as the news of their parents divorce. It’s instilled in Amy at a young age that monogamy is by no means the answer to eternal happiness and when we now meet Amy (as in Schumer) twenty odd something years later as she’s plowing through guy after guy in great succession like a lusty female Alfie counterpart. These scenes are more engaging than expected due not only to Schumar’s own irreverent humor infused throughout but also because she’s such an unassuming down to earth everywoman screen presence (as opposed to some unapproachable club hopping waif).

And not only is Amy’s active sex life seemingly unending but she also has an enviable job as a writer/columnist at S’Nuff magazine in Manhattan where she’s been assigned the job of profiling a famous sports doctor by the name of Aaron Connors (Bill Hader of

SNL and “The Skeleton Twins”). Amy and Aaron meet awkwardly at his office due to her lack of interest in sports but a few followup sessions later they spark a gentle friendship. The friendship soon turns romantic after dinner and a few drinks out on the town one night and Amy makes Aaron yet another conquest and notch on her belt. But now the good doctor is pursuing the relationship further post consummation much to Amy’s chagrin since she isn’t so intent on settling down (which would force her to change her current bed hopping ways and grow up).

And man children, or in this case lady children, who are forced to come to terms with their lives and really mature as adults for the first time is familiar Apatow territory for sure. But in this case the familiar becomes refreshing with the aid of Schumar’s spiky humor permeating throughout her unpredictable performance. She convincingly portrays her character’s conflict of whether to hold on to her philandering tendencies or give commitment a valid shot as well as hitting some dramatic moments along the way (her speech at a funeral at one point in particular lends itself to some surprising dramatic depths). It also doesn’t hurt that Hader’s Aaron makes for such a likable romantic lead and occasional comedic sparring partner for Amy. Hader, similar to Schumer, lacks conventional matinee idol looks but has a quick wit and inherent decency which is not too dissimilar to the likes of a young Henry Fonda or even Jack Lemmon. And Hader’s amusing scenes with favored star client and concerned buddy LeBron James, playing himself, are a surprisingly welcome treat in part due to LeBron’s own formidable comic timing (and self-awareness).

But there are no slackers in this supporting cast which gives the film considerable mileage over the story beats. Quinn is, by turns, tender and crass as Amy’s ailing dad. The lovely Brie Larson (“Short Term 12”) has some touching moments as her more responsible and family oriented younger sister. And a shockingly glammed up Tilda Swinton (“Michael Clayton”) steals every scene she’s in as Amy’s icy and disenchanted editor boss. At one point Swinton abruptly stops Schumar mid an excuse explanation and quips “Is this your one woman show...cause if so I haven’t got a ticket.” And WWE superstar John Cena is also deft as a deluded muscle bound boy toy of Amy’s earlier in the film (his passive aggressive tirade at some audience members on a date attempting to watch a movie is a hysterical and ribald highlight).

One could argue that beneath the uniformly fine ensemble acting and rampant pop culture references there lies a rather old fashioned love story at play here. And that’s not untrue nor is there need for a couple of unnecessary subplots towards the film’s somewhat dragging denouement (one involving Amy and a young intern could have been taken out of the film altogether such a shameless plot device it is).

But “Trainwreck” is so confidently executed and performed such minor quibbles can be forgiven. And I do look forward to seeing what route Apatow and Schumer’s battered train decides to take next.