Captain Phillips

Paul Greengrass directed the latter two entries in the Bourne trilogy, both very entertaining. But his other famous movie, and arguably his most acclaimed one, was United 93, the dramatization of the events on the doomed flight that crashed in Pennsylvania on September 11, 2001. The recreation was so realistic that it didn’t even really have any narrative or structure like a normal film; it was like watching the events unfold as they happened. And it was hard to watch.

The quality of that picture makes Greengrass the ideal filmmaker to tell the story of another hijacking incident, one less seminal in world history but still a major news story: the 2009 capture of the Maersk Alabama by Somali pirates. But instead of just a straight depiction of the events like United 93, the resulting Captain Phillips finds a solid medium between historical document and thriller.

The recreation is similarly vivid in its details. Everything onscreen looks real and unadorned (I admittedly know little about sailing, but it was convincingly real to me). There are no stylized action set pieces, even at the more realistic level of Greengrass’ Bourne movies. Everything onscreen happens as it did during the real incident, though sped up a bit from real time to fit into a normal movie length. And in addition to giving Tom Hanks’ Captain Richard Phillips a short prologue, the film makes sure to show us the plight of the pirates in their homeland. It doesn’t quite make us feel sympathy, but we at least understand them a little instead of just brushing them off as movie bad guys.

But the way the events are depicted is very exemplary of the thriller genre. Perfect editing and pacing make things like jargon-filled nautical tactics and close quarters conflict very exciting. Much of the action takes place in the ship’s cramped lifeboat with Phillips and the four pirates as the Navy resolves the situation outside (as in real life), but even in this tiny enclosure, the film keeps us on edge. Even as the sequence becomes drawn out and excruciating, it’s never boring and never loses a bit of tension. Hanks converses and tries to find some understanding with his captors, but it never devolves into empty Hollywood “we’re all more alike than we realize” sentiment; rather, it’s more like Hanks is keeping them talking, trying to throw them off guard like a textbook hostage situation tactic. Even though we know what's eventually going to happen, the sense of dread keeps deepening right up to the end.

A lot of this can be attributed to Greengrass’ skills as a director, but it’s equally thanks to some great acting. Tom Hanks—an everyman actor in the true sense of the word, one who sinks completely and believably into any role—embodies the title character very convincingly. He’s a veteran trying to do the best he can in a situation beyond his experience, thinking on his feet and protecting his crew, but he clearly feels great fear the whole time. In other words, much more realistic than a typical movie hero.

Also very good are the four playing the pirates: Barkhad Abdirahman, Faysal Ahmed, Mahat M. Ali, and especially Barkhad Abdi as the leader. They aren’t one-sided borderline racist depictions seen all too often in movies taking place in Africa; they’re real people, and the aforementioned prologue gives us a peek at their lives. Nor are they almost comically inept like so many action movie villains whose plans fall apart. Rather, they exude an aura that’s quite threatening, that they have experience in this type of violence. But hardened though they may be, they’re far from professional killers, and as their situation becomes more hopeless and desperate, they become more unhinged. Believably unhinged, which makes them seem more dangerous and keeps the viewer’s heart racing.

Unlike the press at the time, Captain Phillips doesn’t partake in U.S. military superiority jingoism, and just ends merely with text describing what happened afterward. But the film builds to such a level of tension up until then that that’s actually enough. It's a very good recreation of a true story, but that wasn’t what stuck with me when the credits rolled. The thought going through my head was, “Why can’t more thrillers be like this?”

Carrie

I’m pretty sure I don’t need to say that Stephen King’s first novel was already made into a movie nearly four decades ago (if you didn’t know that, well, it was). So seeing it adapted again arouses that eye-rolling “not another remake” feeling we get all too often. But actually giving the picture that label would be a mistake.

It’s the same story—a bullied high school girl discovers she has telekinetic powers—with all the same major plot points. But director Kimberly Peirce’s adaptation takes a different approach to the narrative in several ways. For one, it’s obviously been updated from the 1970s to the present day. As such, the cars and fashion aren’t distractingly dated, and a camera phone and viral video come into play in the infamous gym shower menstruation scene. The film also offers some more spectacular demonstrations of the title character’s power, thanks to modern effects. And beyond the aesthetics, the tone and characterization are drastically different. Not for the better, unfortunately.

Chloë Grace Moretz’s Carrie White is not the waifish, almost creature-like outcast of King’s original story. Nor is she so spiritually beaten down by her religious fanatic mother (played here by Julianne Moore) that even when she discovers her powers, she only meekly pushes back. From the start, Moretz is a much more assured Carrie, less submissive recipient of abuse than loving child trying desperately to care for her mentally ill mother. When she uses her powers against Moore, it seems out of exasperation, not revenge. To her credit, Moretz plays this role well, and it might have been heartwarming in a different movie about mental illness. Here, though, it doesn’t fit, because no matter what Moore does onscreen—and she’s much more unstable than previous depictions, abusing herself as well as her daughter—she never seems like a strong antagonist because her daughter still loves her. She arouses more pity than hatred.

That’s Carrie at home. At school, aside from telekinesis, she seems like a rather normal high schooler. Shy and socially awkward perhaps, but still pretty well-adjusted (the shower scene notwithstanding). Considering the amount of bullying she’s subjected to, it’s entirely understandable that she’s so introverted. The cast of meaner students creates a believably hostile school environment, pointlessly cruel just for its own sake, not based on some clichéd Hollywood system of cliques versus other cliques or people who are different. It’s almost a little too cruel to swallow, as some of the abuse lobbed Carrie’s way seems rather exaggerated. Then again, the aforementioned added technological element in one scene conjures up thoughts of real cyberbullying cases from today’s headlines (though the movie doesn’t really try to say much on this issue, just utilizes it for effect).

After dealing with all that for much of the picture’s runtime, there is some base, bloody satisfaction when the film gets to the famous climax on prom night (although diehard horror fans might be disappointed that the gore factor is nothing too eye-popping). Up until that point (and during it, really), the picture isn’t very scary. I’m not saying that because I already knew what happens, but because it’s more of a high school drama than a horror flick. In addition to the aforementioned bully stuff, there are all the soapy, schmaltzy montages of people getting ready for the prom, and the pervading feeling that it’s the biggest moment of everyone’s life. Not only does this jarringly contrast with the darker elements, and even some of the meaner tormenting Carrie suffers, but it supersedes them. When the movie ended, I felt like the prevailing sentiment wasn’t a shaken feeling from the carnage, or fear after a dark, supernatural experience, or even sadness at the tragedy of Carrie’s story. No, it was the overhyped sensation so many teen movies bestow on the senior prom. I didn’t particularly buy into that even when I was in high school, and it certainly wasn’t what I was looking for from something purported to be a horror movie.

At best, this Carrie is merely a high school revenge fantasy. King’s book and Brian De Palm’s screen version both had that element as well, but they were also very good horror stories. This tale is better told that way.

Don Jon

Don Jon stars Joseph Gordon-Levitt (who also writes and directs) as the title character, a New Jersey twentysomething who hooks up with beautiful women every weekend but can’t make an emotional connection with the opposite sex. This might be because he has a regular Internet porn habit, which he claims to enjoy more than actual sex. His sexual habits get put to the test when he tries to start an actual relationship with Barbara (Scarlet Johansson), who wants everything in her life to be just so.

Sound like a comedy? Maybe, maybe not. The film's certainly been marketed as a bawdy modern sex comedy. But, the actual movie? I'd say no.

That's not to say it doesn't have comedic moments, though the film fails in most instances where it's clearly aiming for comedy. Jon’s narration on sex and porn-watching travels into territory already mined by many a standup comic over the years. Actually seeing it played out, rather than just described in a zany stage persona, is grating and uncomfortable (and I’d imagine quite sexist from a female perspective). Scenes out of his bedroom featuring his parents, with Tony Danza and Glenne Headly essentially playing Jersey Shore stereotypes recast as sitcom geriatrics, get old fast. The few parts that do seem funny are comical in a feel-bad way, like seeing a drunk person make a fool of themselves. You might laugh, but it’s actually kind of sad. The movie makes it a little easier to laugh at its protagonist by using flashy and stylish film techniques, but I still couldn’t shake this sense of pity at the behavior I was seeing.

But to me, the film makes it clear early that it’s looking to examine its chosen themes of fantasy and sex, instead of just make us laugh. And after it establishes that, I really thought it might explore them in some intriguing fashion. But it quickly loses its way trying to explore these subjects, and offers only simple explanations for complicated issues.

The movie shows Jon having a very rigid routine he never deviates from without losing his cool. He's also shown to be hotheaded and not very good with human interaction on any level. Maybe his porn fixation is just part of another problem. But the picture says no, it's just the porn. The film's overall attitude toward sex is equally simplistic, and rather puritanical. Which is ironic, because the movie’s full of real Internet porn videos that seem to cut off at the last possible second allowed for an R rating.

This is Gordon-Levitt’s first feature as a screenwriter and director, and his inexperience as a writer shows in these and other ways. The formula and structure are rather repetitive. Much of the dialogue sounds stilted and overwritten instead of natural. But most of all, it tries to do so much at once, and doesn’t do any of it very well.

The intent seems to be to deconstruct the romantic comedy genre, while also offering insight to how our fantasies (namely porn in Jon’s case) conflict with the reality of life and love. The script sets up the romcom character archetypes in Gordon-Levitt, Johansson, and a third character played by Julianne Moore, but from there, it doesn’t seem like it knows what to say. It reaches some rather generic and obvious conclusions: that porn is bad, or at the very least not at all like real sex, and that relationships are a two-way street. I think that much is pretty obvious to the adult demographic the film is made for (at least I hope so). And the narrative doesn't even navigate to these points convincingly.

Gordon-Levitt’s still a good actor, and he and Johansson do what they can with the picture, like any good actors mired in a bad production. There are even a few moments where the two have chemistry that seems very real, and very hot. But these scenes are fleeting, as romance and joy are abandoned in favor of impotent insights and dirty sex talk that's not very sexy. I guess Gordon-Levitt deserves credit for that, as it conveys the gaping emptiness of his character's sexuality, but it's not fun to watch.

South Park, "World War Zimmerman"

Much can be said about the way South Park satirizes a subject or issue by reversing the roles, letting one side experience the other side’s view. Or how Matt Stone and Trey Parker come up with such strange, surreal, frequently dirty metaphors that are nevertheless crystal clear in what they’re talking about. But I think the show’s most effective when it dives into its target directly, unmercifully, with the subtlety of a sledgehammer and complete indifference to who will get offended.

When you’re addressing a subject that arouses as much fervor as the whole George Zimmerman affair, there’s really no better way.

As usual, Eric Cartman is the everyman voice of the indefensible position, in this case fearful, subconsciously prejudiced white America. The episode finds the little hell-raiser treating the town’s lone black boy Token, often the recipient of racism from Cartman both implied and outright, with uncharacteristic respect. No, he hasn’t learned tolerance; he’s actually trying too hard to keep his classmate from rioting in reaction to Zimmerman’s not guilty verdict (yeah, about that...). When his overzealous friendliness becomes insulting and prompts Token to respond, Cartman causes widespread panic across the country, though everyone else seems to think his imaginary race war is a zombie apocalypse (or at least most of them; some I’m not so sure).

Very direct, and even though Zimmerman’s trial ended months ago, the satirical sting is not diluted one bit. The spoof of World War Z is funny and well integrated into the story, as the show’s parodies usually are. But trappings aside, it’s just astounding how this show can make a point so strong, sometimes so painfully and uncomfortably true, and yet also make us crack up at what we’re seeing. And the episode does that for Zimmerman and stand-you-ground laws, better than any other piece of comedy I’ve seen that ventured into this territory. Zimmerman himself even appears, in a turn of events that’s glorious. Absolutely glorious.

This is one of this season’s gems, a great and memorable episode of which there are a couple each season, which a few years from now fans will look back upon as a classic of this point in time.

Gravity

Films taking place in space rarely seem to capture what’s it’s like above the atmosphere. Spaceships move around more like aircraft on Earth, turning and maneuvering with ease instead of flying off into the unknown by their sheer momentum. Spacewalks and zero gravity scenes always seem to have some sort of anchor point the people onscreen gravitate towards. And, of course, all the movie sound effects we’re used to wouldn’t exist in a vacuum.

Scientific accuracy isn’t necessarily a hindrance to making an exciting outer space film, however. One picture that comes to mind is Apollo 13, which turned a true story into a captivating thriller based solely on solving each challenge with real science. Gravity depicts a fictional space disaster, but with a similarly high (though by no means perfect) level of accuracy. Only Gravity goes even further, utilizing excellent filmmaking techniques and amazing special effects that let us not only watch the film, but feel it, too.

The very first scene is incredibly tense, and nothing even is going wrong, yet. As we in the audience hear radio chatter and a space shuttle floats into view, it feels like if we even move a tiny bit in our seats, we’re going to float away. But everything onscreen is going smoothly, as Sandra Bullock, a medical doctor on her first mission (pretty unrealistic maybe, but it works because her fear and inexperience makes the protagonist much more relatable to the viewer), works on the Hubble Telescope. Veteran astronaut George Clooney jokes around with Mission Control, and we gradually relax and get used to watching them in zero gravity.

That’s when the bad things start. Namely, debris from an old Russian satellite collides with the shuttle, sending Clooney and Bullock tumbling off into space. Battling increasingly depleting oxygen and the vacuum of space, the two attempt to make it back to their shuttle, or any other save haven that could help them get back to Earth. And the debris cloud is still out there, orbiting the Earth like a hail of bullets.

Director Alfonso Cuarón’s penchant for long, unbroken shots is masterfully suited for this picture. Extended sequences that don’t cut away for several minutes take us from up close on the actors’ faces, to wide looks at spaces stations or just the great maw of space, to point-of-view shots that almost put us in an astronaut’s helmet. It’s like the camera’s floating in zero-g, capturing everything as it happens. And Bullock, Clooney, and everything around them look convincing. Feels that way, too, as their terror at possibly drifting off to their death and desperation of clinging to anything for dear life is as palpable as if we’re experiencing it with them. It also trades the lack of sound effects for just ominous music combined with subtle visual cues, which arguably builds more tension.

Things slow down a little between bursts of conflict, and the overall tension somewhat dissipates in the final third. But the movie never ceases to be engrossing even in its more tranquil moments. There are many mesmerizing things to look at, from small elements like liquid or fire floating freely without gravity, to giant, awe-inspiring views of Earth. Lots of those. It also captures a quiet, almost dreamlike state of peace in residing in the Heavens. For all the intensity the film throws at us, it also makes space seem like it wouldn’t be so bad.

I usually don’t choose to see a movie in IMAX or 3D if I have the option of just a regular screen, as I mostly forget about the difference in format after about ten minutes. There are exceptions, though, where these formats actually do enrich the viewing. Gravity is definitely one. It’s not just a film you simply watch, but one you experience. At the very least it requires some sort of big screen to get that experience, for its effect, its awe, and its often high intensity will probably be lost in home viewing.

South Park, "Informative Murder Porn"

Believe it or not, I’ve never played the popular, apparently extremely addictive computer game Minecraft. But even if I had, I’m not so sure it would have made this episode any better.

That’s disappointing, because the issue addressed—the idea that kids become violent from exposure to violent media—had potential. Only in this case, it was the kids of South Park blocking violent TV shows from the adults (once again, the classic “South Park reversal" I always talk about), specifically the crime reenactment shows of Investigation Discovery (the episode’s title being the show’s label for such programming).

But everything derails when an okay throwaway joke about Minecraft (the parent-blocking feature is guarded not by a password but a question about the game, which no adult can answer at first) grows into a major element. The show has juggled and combined several unrelated things successfully before, but not this time. The joke isn’t funny, the way it’s integrated into the plot makes no sense even by the show’s sometimes surreal standards, and if there was supposed to be any point, I couldn’t discern even a molecule of it.

In the non-Minecraft moments, the satire is pretty clear. It’s obvious Trey Parker and Matt Stone feel it’s a load of garbage to assume violent entertainment makes youngsters into killers any more than serious “documentary” crime shows effect mature adults’ behavior (even the title is almost a rebuttal to the label of “torture porn,” a genre that's also aroused controversy). One line aimed pretty directly at the idea of cable choice would have gotten a fist pump out of me if I weren’t so bored. Unfortunately, bored I was, as the episode is almost all soapbox. The only real gag that comes to mind is a running one depicting cable company workers as nipple-stroking sadists. It wasn’t very funny from moment one.

Worse yet, the satire seems stale. At this point, the idea that violent media makes violent people seems to have lost steam. The latest Grand Theft Auto, once the worst nightmare of parents everywhere, has been met with more awe than outrage. This episode would have been more biting had it aired a decade ago when this debate was still being had, or back in the show’s earliest days when itself caused public outcry. Seeing it now is like watching an older episode, where you get the joke if you remember the events parodied, but if not, it means nothing to you. But even if you do get this joke, the episode around it falls apart completely before the midpoint, and just slowly ekes about until the half-hour's up.

Metallica: Through the Never

Remember the earlier days of IMAX, before they put real wide release movies in the format? Back when IMAX screens rarely offered more than short documentaries or slight, simplistic pieces of fiction, where the point was less about making a full coherent work than just showing cool stuff on a really, really big screen? I’m not sure to what extent or even if such features are shown anymore, outside of maybe museums, but the same kind of approach seems to have been taken for Metallica: Through the Never, the new concert odyssey from the heavy metal band.

Mainly, it’s a concert film, and shorter than a typical rock concert filmed or not. But it makes up for that by containing possibly the greatest concert footage ever recorded. All the typical live shots of the band are cut rapidly but seamlessly with wider shots of the stage or crowd from all different angles, as well as more intimate views of each band member, ecstatic fans, pyrotechnics and other stage effects, and close-ups on the band's instruments as their arms and fingers do their work. And of course, Metallica’s on fire, playing at a very high level even in their middle age. I’m not entirely sure if it’s like any other concert film just brought to another level by an IMAX screen, or if it goes above and beyond the normal tropes of live performances. But it’s awesome to behold. And the chosen setlist consists of many of the band’s classics (though to my personal chagrin, the softer ballad “Nothing Else Matters,” loved by many but too sappy for me, also made it in, but oh well).

But where the project differs from the standard concert flick is that it also includes a side plot that’s not simply backstage footage, or even really involving the band at all. No, it’s instead a kinetic urban combat fantasy tale, where a young silent roadie (Dane DeHaan) and his living doll search for a broken down tour truck in the unnamed city the band is playing. On his trek, he finds himself in the middle of a conflict between police and a violent mob, and runs afoul of the latter’s horse-riding, gasmask-wearing, magic sledgehammer-wielding leader.

Yeah, pretty weird. It reminded me a little of The Song Remains the Same—the 1976 Led Zeppelin picture where the extended live performances drifted off into trippy vignettes—only more amped up on the action movie elements. And while Zeppelin’s vignettes were clearly separate from the concert and other footage, the more cinematic stuff here seems to exist concurrently with the Metallica concert we’re seeing, as the two collide in destructive fashion later in the picture. It’s pointless to try making sense of it all, as the movie itself doesn’t even attempt to explain. It’s better to just sit back and admire the imagery.

It, too, is cool to see on a giant screen. But really, Through the Never’s appeal depends on whether or not the viewer likes Metallica. Me? I would have paid for a ticket just for a straight-up concert film. There’s nothing quite like the loudness or excitement of being at a live concert, but if that’s out of your price range, this isn’t a bad way to compensate. You might even (and from my concert-going experience, probably will) get a better view than most people in an arena.