Fanboy Meets World: 5 Things to Love About ‘After Earth’

Fanboy Meets World is a bi-weekly column that runs on alternate Mondays.

Listen: it’s not like “After Earth” is a good movie. But those of us with a fondness for comics, pulp adventure stories, gizmos, gadgets, gewgaws, fantasy realms and Fiend Folios ought not to turn up our noses. So it was more of a “Medium Willie” Weekend box office-wise, but for Fanboys there’s a lot to love in this unfairly maligned Scientology fable, er, I mean, tale of Father and Son facing obstacles. As a nerd, it is my job to list them.

1.) Smart Fabric

Jaden Smith isn’t running around in the woods in a onesie for no reason. He’s wearing “Smart Fabric” – unitards of the future that change color depending on the situation. At rest, you’re rockin’ something of a “burnt umber” color (if I’m remembering my Bob Ross correctly) but when trouble comes, your outfit turns black. That’s how you know sharp-toothed, stone-throwing monkeys are near. When you are freezing to the point of hypothermia and/or have a bloodstream pumped full of toxins from a mutant leech your clothes turn off-white and light blue, kinda resembling Tron Guy. Whether or not the new color will, you know, warm you up while you are cold remains unknown.

2.) 3D Holograms Everywhere

Will Smith spends most of the film behind a bank of computer screens monitoring Jaden on his quest to find the text-sending doohickey that be their rescue. In comics terms, he’s the elderly Bruce Wayne to Jaden’s Terry McGinnis. (Or the 7-Zark-7 to the G-Force Team if you want to go a little more hardcore.) Readouts with nifty fonts hover around him, making graphs and calculating survival rates as Jaden encounters setbacks. Best, though, are the peripherals that are ubiquitous in the future of “After Earth.” A gray, floppy rubber square is like a portable 3D holo-projectin’ Kindle Fire, making examining spreadsheets look just as cool as travelling faster-than-light. Speaking of which . . .

3.) Traveling

Okay, there’s an awful lot about “After Earth”’s backstory that’s a little vague (and I haven’t had a chance to dig into the paperback of collected prequel stories, even if one is written by my beloved Peter David.) Even though the Earth of “After Earth” was somehow destroyed by the recklessness of man (cue the CNN footage of storms!) humanity figured out a way to exeunt the pale blue dot and relocate to “Nova Prime.” Now, maybe there were generation ships, but the implication is that Mankind cracked the code of achieving superluminal speeds. We see it for a moment when Will Smith’s ranger Cypher Raige (yes! that name!) gives the order to “travel” to avoid getting pummeled by asteroids after a spacequake.

“Traveling” looked to me like an extrapolation of an Alcubierre Drive, a manipulation of spacetime that creates something of a warp bubble or mini wormhole. In the film, “traveling” is kinda like hitting a panic button. Without careful calculations you may wind up anywhere – but there’s no time to lose! – and that’s why our heroes end up on Earth.

4.) Cutlasses

The Rangers of “After Earth” are going to need a badass weapon, and that weapon is called the Cutlass. Cypher Raige’s version is called the C-40 Cutlass and it has 24 different settings. It’s a silver cylinder that pops out blades of varying shapes and sizes from either side, as if to say “screw you, Darth Maul, let’s see how many shapes YOU can make!” It is unclear if the Cutlass reads your mind or just knows when you need to change from a double-edged bastard sword a the humongous collection of sharp radio antennae-lookin’ weapons, but if it also has a leather punch it is the best Swiss army knife in this or any other universe.

5.) Ursas

The big meanies of “After Earth” are fear-sniffing, pincer shooting mammal-chompers that look like a cross between “Starship Troopers”’s arachnids and Peter Jackson’s version of Tolkien’s Shelob. They have a giant eye in the middle with some other little eyes around it and a little gray fur. They skitter and they pierce and they flay and they generally make a mess of things. But if you are brave (stupid?) enough not to be afraid of them they will just walk on by without paying you no never mind. It is to M. Night Shyamalan’s credit that, when the music swells as Jaden Smith just lays there to let a two-ton tarantula walk over him, you don’t crack up that much.

Fanboys, pass up that cool, refreshing glass of Haterade. “After Earth” may be dumb, but it’s our kind of dumb. I’ll be accepting your submissions for “After After Earth” fanfiction at once.

Categories: Columns

Tags: After Earth, Fanboy Meets World, Jaden smith, Jordan hoffman, M. night shyamalan, Planet Fanboy, Will smith

Review: ‘Much Ado About Nothing’

This review was originally published on September 9, 2012 as part of Film.com’s coverage of the 2012 Toronto International Film Festival.

I come verily from a festival in the North, where recorded playlets are in great number, as is the quaffing of ale and general merriment!

On display, a modernized tale of an oft-recounted comic history, the tale of Beatrice and Benedick, a pair too proud to admit their bounteous love, and Claudio and Hero, who share a bond so pure and true that villainous Don John schemes to separate them. Will this foe murther the children of cupid’s arrow? Zounds! Zounds, I say!

Oh, excuse me. I always wind up talking like this for a while after seeing a Shakespeare adaptation. Which is weird because, I don’t know about you, whenever I watch one (and I’ve seen most) for the first twenty minutes or so I am absolutely and completely lost. The actors may as well be speaking Na’vi, but slowly the ear catches the rhythms of the prose and you find yourself chuckling at centuries-old quips like a Lord of the manor.

Luckily, I’ve seen Kenneth Branagh’s version of “Much Ado About Nothing” so I had some familiarity with the plot and wasn’t too lost for Joss Whedon’s take on the classic, a low budget black-and-white number. Offered up as karmic balance for his billion-dollar superhero enterprise “The Avengers” from this summer, this tiny friends-and-family production has the vibe of a project done on weekends and after school. That’s no knock. It is vibrant and bubbly and just clever enough to engage people who wouldn’t normally watch a black-and-white micro-budget Shakespeare adaptation without any big movie stars.

That some of these people are little known outside the Whedonverse is a crime. Amy Acker is positively fetching as Beatrice, the feisty and smart woman who matches wits with Alexis Denisof’s Benedick. As someone who rarely attends legitimate theater, I can only compare her performance to Emma Thompson’s Beatrice in Branagh’s “Ado,” so she had massive shoes to fill. Acker doesn’t approach the role in quite as broad of a manner; she trumpets her zings without getting daffy, assured in her skin but unaware of the destruction left in her wake.

Acker may as well have come straight down from the screen and torn the heart straight from my rib cage. Her conservative dresses, wide eyes and the hint of an overbite are the type of good looks that aren’t quite in line with what Hollywood thinks is a 10, but in real life (and, I suppose, the Whedonverse), they are what light up every room and inspire heart attacks in all who come within speaking distance.

Whedon’s “Much Ado” pretty much plays it straight. Set in a wealthy suburban home and its well-landscaped back yard, there are only a few anachronistic gags (one involving a cupcake) or updates to the text. Ballads in the original are jazzy piano tunes now, and noble Knight Dogberry is a doofy rent-a-cop here (Nathan Fillion).

High school English teachers can rejoice that they have some new ammunition to get kids into Shakespeare (look! it’s Agent Coulson talkin’ funny talk!) while elitists can think they’re all hip and now by watching a modernized version. And Whedon fans? They’ll gush over this like Claudio writing a gooey love sonnet to Hero. I can’t wait for the shippers’ fan fic.

SCORE: 7.5 / 10

Categories: Reviews

Tags: Alexis denisof, Amy acker, Ashley Johnson, Clark Gregg, Fran Kranz, Joss whedon, Much Ado About Nothing, Nathan fillion, Sean maher, Shakespeare, Toronto International Film Festival

Spoiler Alert: Critics Shouldn’t Care About ‘Ruining’ a Movie

Late last week, a few hours before the American embargo on “Oblivion” reviews lifted, Universal’s publicity department forwarded critics and journalists the following polite recommendation:

“During the course of your reviewing or reporting, we request that you not reveal plot points toward the film’s climax and conclusion so that those surprises are retained for the audience.”

At first glance this would appear to be a reasonable request: the film, after all, opens in wide release imminently, and, because its narrative is uncommonly laden with sudden twists and turnabouts, it’s likely to play better to a first-time audience if they can retain the sensation of surprise. There’s a reason we call revelations of important plot points “spoilers”: there’s a shared sense that knowing this information in advance of seeing a film will somehow spoil the experience of watching it. We tend to think of movie spoilers the same way we think of, say, hearing the final score to a football game we recorded but haven’t watched, which is to say we strain to avoid them while we can and feel deflated if we find we cannot.

Part of the problem with Universal’s request is that it betrays a certain anxiety toward the buying power of intrigue. It’s nice to think that a studio has only the moviegoing pleasure of its target demographic in mind when it urges critics to forgo spoilers, but I suspect it’s more likely that, at the end of the day, Universal is more concerned about dissuading prospective ticket-buyers than it is with preserving the artistic integrity of “Oblivion” and its myriad twists. If the appeal of “Oblivion”, at least from the perspective of a potential audience member being lured to the theater by marketing, is the mystery at the heart of the story, it stands to reason that knowing the answer to the mystery in advance—and maybe even being disappointed or put off by that answer—will be enough to keep the now-sated audience member at home. This isn’t a guarantee, mind you; knowing, for instance, that Bruce Willis was dead along (spoiler alert) might not be enough to deter people from rushing out to catch “The Sixth Sense”. But “The Village” might seem less attractive if an opening-day review lets slip the fact that it all takes place in the modern day (oh, um, also spoiler alert).

In other words, when a critic elides spoilers simply because a movie studio demands it, a critic is helping the studio more than the audience—and doubly so in the case of bad movies, which don’t have as much to fall back on once their secrets have been spilled. Only the thinnest and cheapest films can be truly spoiled by knowing their twists ahead of time, which is why, for instance, “Citizen Kane” seems no less great if one knows that “Rosebud” is the name of a sled. The kind of pleasure offered by plot twists are by nature superficial: it’s a momentary feeling of surprise and perhaps astonishment, a quick gasp that hardly lingers after the end credits role. It’s a nice feeling, one that we hope is preserved but not needlessly prioritized.

Also check out: Our (spoiler-free!) review of “Oblivion”

Preserving the surprise isn’t necessarily a problem for broadsheet journalists authoring quick-hit capsules as a kind of consumer guide for what to see over the weekend, since this sort of thumbs-up/thumbs-down reviewing wouldn’t benefit from drifting into spoiler territory in most cases. But being thoroughly averse to spoilers on principle does present problems for long-form film criticism, which by its very nature demands full disclosure and the ability to engage seriously with every aspect of a film, including major plot points and, indeed, even the ending. Film criticism is supposed to help illuminate a film, not simply offer a yay/nay declaration of its quality, and in order to do so well it needs to assume that its readers will be familiar with the material in question in full.

This, of course, raises an important point that typically goes unmentioned: film criticism is intended to be read by people who have seen the film under discussion. That isn’t a hard rule, mind you—people are free to read whatever they’d like, and if someone finds reading about a film in advance of seeing it helpful or even just interesting, so be it—but it should at least be an assumed truth of the practice, which would allow critics to tailor their writing to a knowledgeable audience and allow readers to be aware of what they’re getting into in advance. It would also almost single-handedly obliterate concerns about spoilers in criticism—concerns which, frankly, are altogether unfounded.

Consider the real issue here: if you haven’t seen a film and you are concerned about spoilers, the onus is on you to not read reviews before seeing the film. It’s not only unfair to demand that critics pander to people who shouldn’t be reading their work yet in the first place, it’s absurd; it presumes that a critic should be talking around a film instead of talking about it, and it makes the practice of criticism useless except as a vehicle of undescriptive opinion. While a spoiler warning is an easy courtesy for those readers who enjoy tempting fate, the responsibility remains their own (this, of course, applies only to articles with which a reader has voluntarily engaged, and not a tweet that appears from the blue like a broadside attack).

If you spent any time last week reading reviews of “Oblivion” without having seen it, you should ask yourself an obvious question: what exactly were you hoping to find in those reviews? If you wanted nothing more than a sense of the quality of the film, reading an 800-word essay is probably unnecessary. Review aggregators like Rotten Tomatoes and MetaCritic exist, in part, to offer a fleeting summation of professional opinion, a quick measure of a film’s critical temperature that gives a clear (if imperfect) indication of whether a given film is worth your time and money. While those aggregators catch a lot of flack from film critics, it’s crucial to reckon with how they empower us to speak to our audience as though they’re looking for insight rather than broad opinion. Reading more ought to come after the fact: the criticism is there to help you make sense of what you saw, to offer validating or challenging opinions, to make you think about the film differently or better. “Spoiling” the plot should be irrelevant.

Categories: Features

Tags: Citizen kane, Oblivion, Op-ed, Spoilers

SXSW Q&A: Joss Whedon and His Cast Make ‘Much Ado About Nothing’

One of the most anticipated events of all of SXSW was undoubtedly the US premiere of Joss Whedon’s “Much Ado About Nothing”, the screening of which was immediately followed by an hour-long Q&A with the entire cast save for Sean Maher, Riki Lindhome, and Reed Diamond. The line for the screening was the festival’s longest (at least until “Spring Breakers” blew the roof off of the Paramount Theatre last night), and chairs had to be brought in to line the sides of the auditorium, accommodating as many audience members as possible. And it was all worth it: The movie is fantastic, perhaps the most accessible Shakespeare I’ve ever seen – and this ain’t my first Shakesprodeo (see what I did there?). The panel that followed was lively and filled with little nuggets of wit and wisdom. Below, we’ve shared our 10 favorite things that we learned from Whedon and his friends.

1. You Don’t Say No To Joss Whedon

Both Alexis Denisof and Nathan Fillion were nervous about tackling Shakespeare, but they both subscribe to the belief that if Joss Whedon asks you do something, you do it. Fillion even came close to dropping out completely until Whedon’s wise words kept him attached. When Whedon reached out to Nick Kocher and Brian McElhaney to inquire as to whether they would fly themselves out to work on his movie for very little pay, they didn’t even hesitate. As Kocher put it, “Of course we came out – what do you think we do all day?!”

2. Wanna Work With Joss Whedon? It Could Happen

Over and over, situations came up where Joss discovered someone and incorporated them into the Whedonverse. Danny Kaminsky was hired as Joss’ assistant for “The Avengers”, and they worked so well together that Danny ended up becoming the editor and co-producer of “Much Ado”, thus “winning the best lottery of all time” (Kaminsky’s words, though I share the sentiment). Similarly, Jillian Morgese, who makes her feature debut in the film, was discovered by Joss after working on “The Avengers” in a minor PA/Extra role. He was taken by her as she “ran around looking scared”, and found her particular brand of ingenue to be exactly right for Hero, so he asked her to audition. Kocher and McElhaney were cast because Whedon is a huge fan of their sketch comedy group BriTanicK. Now, with their foot in the door, all of these people are here to stay. Moregese even went so far as to say that they had all become like family, something none of them would have thought possible just a couple years ago. The cherry on top? Rather than have any old extras, Whedon specifically brought in film students to fill out the main party scene.

3. Skype Auditions Are Really A Thing!

Whedon’s hunch about Morgese was proved correct when she auditioned for him over Skype and immediately got the role, no in-person callback required.

4. The House That Kai Built

It’s been widely discussed that the film was shot in Whedon’s house over 12 days. What hasn’t been circulating as much is the fact that his wife Kai, also a producer on the film,  is an architect by trade, and actually designed their entire home from the ground up. As soon as it was completed, they thought to themselves, “Okay, what are we going to shoot here?” Though their dream finally came true with “Much Ado,” Whedon wishes they had used even more rooms and incorporated a steady cam to fully capture the flow of the space and do it justice. Spoiler alert: Joss Whedon lives in a really nice house.

Also check out: Our review of “Much Ado About Nothing”

5. The Kenneth Brannagh Much Ado About Nothing Did Play A Tiny Tiny Role

Though Whedon is a huge fan of the Brannagh version of “Much Ado”, he purposefully did not rewatch it before starting work so as to avoid either emulating or running away from it. But he did keep thinking about Patrick Doyle’s memorable score from the film, so much so that during Alexis Denisof and Amy Acker’s first filmed kiss — the moment their lips touched — the climax of Doyle’s score immediately filled Whedon’s head, confirming for him that this was working.

6. Joss Whedon Has Never Seen Lost

He noted, “You either make TV or watch TV.”

7. Even With Shakespeare, There’s Room For Improv

Although the text itself was immoveable, Whedon encouraged his actors to follow their instincts and improv physically, resulting in fantastic bit after fantastic bit. Especially keep an eye out for Nathan Fillion, Tom Lenk and a gag involving car keys.

8. The Sexiest Thing Whedon Has Ever Done

“Including having sex!” exclaimed Whedon after moderator Adam B. Vary offered his two cents on the sexuality present in the film. While “Much Ado” features multiple sex scenes that are obviously not present in the text, they don’t feel the least bit gratuitous, and in fact do a great deal to contribute to the darker tone Whedon imbued in this adaptation. He found that so many of the developments in “Much Ado” are actually kind of creepy – a guy really thinks of a plan to deceive someone based on the fact that he is confident he could get a girl to dress up in some other chick’s clothes IN this other chick’s bedroom and sleep with him?! That’s messed up. So Whedon embraced the play’s subtext and in doing so, takes the play to exciting new places.

9. Nathan Fillion Has Found The Perfect Way To Describe Shakespearean Text

“It’s just flowery and a little bit like yoda!” Correct.

10. You Don’t Need Professional Shakespeare Experience To Rock Shakespeare

You wouldn’t know it from watching the movie, but only two or three members of the large cast have actually performed Shakespeare professionally. For the most part, Whedon approached the film from an angle of “Why can’t we do this too?”, rather than being so reverent with breath marks and original meaning that it wouldn’t translate to today’s audience. Many moments almost subvert the text, but in a way that actually enhances and proves the timelessness of Shakespeare’s work, rather than demeans it. Whedon truly proves that Shakespeare can still be brilliant through a wholly modern lens.

Categories: No Categories

Tags: Alexis denisof, Amy acker, Interview, Joss whedon, Much Ado About Nothing, Nathan fillion, Q&A, SXSW, Sxsw 2013, The avengers

Best of AFI Fest: The 10 Movies We Can’t Stop Thinking About

Although the line up we caught at this year’s AFI Fest presented by Audi didn’t quite match up with the stellar picks from last year, the 2012 slate was still mighty impressive, and furthermore, boasted some of the strangest festival fare seen all year. This includes two films made up entirely of actual found footage from other films, a surrealist comedy, a meta documentary production of a Shakespeare history, a movie about people who pay to be infected with celebrities diseases and “John Dies at the End.” If nothing else, these films sure are memorable. Here are the ten films from AFI 2012 that we simply can’t get out of our heads, plus a few honorable mentions.

1. “Amour”

Why we can’t stop thinking about it: Break my soul in half, why don’t you?

Michael Haneke’s Palme d’Or-winning drama about an old man caring for his wife after she has a stroke handily lives up to the hype. The film opens on the couple’s final night on the town before the problems begin, and we are witness to two elderly people that are beautiful, intelligent, wordly, easy going and hopelessly in love, utterly content with the life they have built. But everything changes the next morning when Anne has a minor stroke. From then on, we watch as Georges cares for her until the very end, treating her as an equal and partner even as she loses more and more control over her body and mind. Our hearts break even further when Anne is so paralyzed she can’t eat or speak normally, but she and Georges still manage to communicate and laugh together.

“Amour” asks what love truly is and depicts it as its most unglamorous. As difficult as it is to take in, the film is uplifting in a way, allowing us to posit that love this deep and powerful indeed exists, and we should only be so lucky as to find ourselves at the end of our long lives with the person we care for most, however that end comes about.

Stand-out moment: Georges listens to a recording of classical music and imagines Anne playing it herself on the piano. Seeing her as vibrant as she was at the beginning of the movie reminds us all too harshly what the couple has lost, try as they might to be living in some semblance of normalcy.

2. “Antiviral”

Why we can’t stop thinking about it: It must be in the genes.

Turns out creepiness runs in the family! Brandon Cronenberg, son of David, made a huge impact at AFI this year, leaping out of the gate with his original body horror slash science fiction flick, “Antiviral.” The movie depicts a world where plebeians want so badly to be close to their favorite celebrities that they pay good money to be injected with diseased cells harnessed from their very bodies. The cells range from temporary maladies like the flu to more permanent options like herpes, and celebrity cells are additionally used to create colorless edible blobs fans can chow down on. And this is only the set up.

It turns out that Syd (an increasingly promising Caleb Landry Jones) an employee of one of the top clinics that provides these viruses to the public, regularly injects himself in order to cultivate viruses of his own to sell on the black market. Eventually, he finds himself smack in the middle of a relentless murder mystery that excites and disgusts right up until the appropriately disturbing final shot. With his first outing, Cronenberg proves himself in spades. Not only is the premise inventive and the story involving, but he shows a very deft hand when it comes to pacing, imagery, world building and invoking visceral reactions. He never shies away from the grotesque.

Stand-out moment: The skin-crawling final scene.

3. “Caesar Must Die”

Why we can’t stop thinking about it: This is the best Shakespeare adaptation you’ll ever see.

If you go into this highly meta docudrama from Italian directors Paolo and Vittorio Taviani without knowing it is actually a documentary, there is a good chance you’ll think the entire thing is scripted right up until the credits roll. In fact, the Tavianis went into famed Italian prison Rebibbia and tracked the actual inmates’ rehearsal and production of Shakespeare’s “Julius Caesar.” There are no behind-the-scenes interviews, no prisoner backstories aside from the information provided by the inventive audition sequence, no childhood photographs or historical information on the prison. This is rehearsal and performance and brief moments in between. But because the theater at Rebibbia is undergoing renovations, the prisoners must take to rehearsing in the prison itself, resulting in countless moments that walk the line between fiction and reality in almost indecipherable ways.

As the film goes on we begin to realize that this making-of documentary is simultaneously a filmed version of “Julius Caesar,” and it’s equally effective as both. As thrilling as it is to watch these men perform, once the curtain closes, we watch each of the main characters be walked back to their tiny cells, some of which are their lifelong homes. Maybe in a year they will get to be in another production, but they are not in charge of their own fates any longer, and this serves as a reminder. As one of the inmates, in prison for life, remarks as he returns to his daily routine just before the credits roll, “Since I got to know art, this cell has become a prison.”

While some may argue that murderers shouldn’t be allowed such things as artistic pursuits, one can’t help but watch a film like this and wonder — had they been exposed to art in the first place, would they even be here? Will this annual escape into make-believe and the illusion of freedom change them for the better? In an instant, the actors snap back into prisoners and the enraptured audience snaps back into uninvolved observers from thousands of miles of away.

Stand-out moment: The inmates rehearse the murder of Caesar outside, seamlessly switching from acting the scene to commenting on its greatness and timelessness, wondering how many more times it will be performed in the history of the world. Not long after, a guard is about to call them back in as recreation hours have ended, but instead gets involved in watching and tells the other guards to wait until the end of the scene to disrupt them.

4. “Room 237?

Why we can’t stop thinking about it: It’s a new way of connecting with the films we love.

“Room 237? is a documentary, sure, but unlike any documentary you’ve ever seen before, a running theme at AFI 2012. Using only five voiceovers recorded for the film, set against repurposed stock footage and film clips, “Room 237? delves into the numerous conspiracy theories surrounding Stanley Kubrick’s “The Shining.” Each interviewee is convinced his theory is correct, and often two of them will use identical evidence to support completely different conclusions.

The theories for the most part are completely absurd, and the passion with which these people believe them adds largely to the entertainment factor. The AFI audience actually applauded when one of them concluded his argument as to how “The Shining” proves Kubrick shot the moon landing — not because the theory was sound, but because the undeniable proof we were being presented with so obviously had no grounding in reality.

“Room 237? demonstrates a totally different way of connecting fan to film, what Chuck Klosterman calls “Immersion Criticism,” a type of examination that can only be undertaken after multiple viewings of a movie, and only if that movie is made by someone who could conceivably have ulterior motives and play with secret meanings and hidden clues, i.e. a Stanley Kubrick or a David Lynch. Ultimately, the film succeeds not because it tells us anything about “The Shining,” but because it is both highly entertaining and a solid commentary on this connection — how film fans can project themselves into the meaning of a film they love. These people LOVE “The Shining” and are now a part of its history. As crazy as that might be, it’s still kind of sweet.

Stand-out moment: As per the instruction of major “The Shining” theorist Kevin McLeod (aka Mstrmnd), we witness footage of “The Shining” playing forwards and backwards simultaneously and superimposed. (He who declined to be interviewed for the film.) While this method still proves nothing about the movie, it’s really cool to see the twins murder overlaid on Jack’s face, where it looks like he is wearing perfectly applied twin-blood clown-makeup.

5. “Simon Killer”

Why we can’t stop thinking about it: It manages to manipulate the audience along with the rest of the characters.

“Simon Killer,” from the team behind “Martha Marcy May Marlene,” is a film that may leave you huffing and puffing out of the theater. As director Antonio Campos warned us in his introduction, if you find yourself not liking the lead, in fact if you find yourself hating the lead, that’s okay — you’re supposed to. This character study about a recent college grad fresh off a break up trying finding himself on a trip to Paris is not what it seems.

At the beginning of the film, Simon (a marvelous Brady Corbet) notes that he studied in school the connection between the eye and the brain, setting up immediately that that very correlation and disconnect is what the film will be exploring. When he first meets French prostitute Victoria and seems to be falling for her, determined to save her from this life, we root for them, and for him. Where we as an audience start with Simon couldn’t be further from where we end up, though, and the journey from point A to point B is a cinematic experiment in audience as character if ever there’s been one.

“Simon Killer” points out our natural instincts to trust, to care and to experience a human connection not merely by telling us or even showing us, but by involving us emotionally on the same level as Victoria. When those instincts are betrayed, we feel every inch as disgusting, angry and outraged as she does. Although the film’s ultimately dark nature may make it difficult to return to, there is definitely a drinking game in there somewhere if you can properly identify every time Simon tells a lie.

Stand-out moment: “You’re not a man.”

6. “Final Cut: Ladies and Gentlemen”

Why we can’t stop thinking about it: It’s what “The Clock” would be if it had a love story narrative.

Hungarian director Gyorgy Palfi’s movie is yet another AFI 2012 film made up of entirely found footage, this time from hundreds of movies and even some TV shows over the course of cinematic history. Three years, four editors, 500 movies from across the world and only the most emotive of film scores and songs are the ingredients in this examination of the tropes, themes, cliches and patterns of the love story.

Statistically, the films shown are roughly 20% Hungarian, 20% Asian and 60% American and European, and it can be watched in a variety of ways. How many films can you name? Could you describe every moment of the narrative? Which movie appears the most? It’s a feast for the movie lover’s senses. As an added treat, the end credits list every movie used and every score used, in order; one can only imagine the eventual Blu-ray release that tells you what’s on screen as you watch. However, a release seems somewhat implausible because the film could only use these movies and music for educational purposes, but fingers crossed there is a way somehow someday that we can all enjoy this 90 minutes of straight smiling soon.

Stand-out moment: Playing on its own examination of themes and patterns, after showing multiple clips demonstrating going back in time, most famously Superman making the Earth rotate in the other direction, the film replays about a minute or so, clip for clip, until the gentlemen universally decided to go the other way and win the ladies back. Nice one, “Final Cut.”

7. “Wrong”

Why We Can’t Stop Thinking About it: It’s absurdist surrealism at its most accessible.

On the surface, “Wrong” is about a man named Dolph (Jack Plotnick) trying to find his lost dog, but from the moment his alarm clock turns from 7:59 to 7:60, you know you’re in for something very out of the ordinary. When all the rules of sense, logic and storytelling go out the window, it may be frustrating for some but delightfully addicting for others. After all, it was written and directed by Quentin Dupieux, who made an entire film about a sentient tire.

Dolph is only slightly bewildered by the mounting absurdities of his life. Although the whole film is a nonsensical delight, perhaps the single best part of it is William Fichtner giving the performance of his career as Master Chang.

Stand-out moment: Jack calls Jesus Organic Pizza and has a long conversation with the delivery girl about the pizza joint’s logo.

8. “The Central Park Five”

Why we can’t stop thinking about it: This doc is a jarringly clear-cut argument against the death penalty.

In 1989, five teenagers were accused of the rape and murder of a woman in Central Park, and shortly after, tried, convicted and sent to prison with an entire city rallying together to curse their names. Thirteen years later, it was discovered and proven without a doubt that not one of these kids had anything to do with the crime. Although their names were officially cleared, the news barely made a blip, and the prosecutors who so clearly manipulated these kids refused to believe the cold hard truth and risk their reputations by admitting their mistake.

Leave it to Ken Burns, along with co-directors Sarah Burns and David McMahon to come to the rescue and get the word out with this startling documentary that tracks every moment of the case in detail. The film uses interviews and incredible archival footage to show New York City in 1989, the endless interrogations of the teens, their trials and much more. It’s heartbreaking to watch the case go the way it did in light of what we know now, and even worse to hear the boys, now men, lament their lost childhoods and the fact that a wife, a home and kids — things that one day seemed like such a given — now seem like fantasies. Burns is the doc master for a reason, and keeps you engaged for all 119 astounding minutes.

Stand-out moment: Donald Trump takes out a full size ad in the paper calling for the return of the death penalty in response to this case.

9. “Silver Linings Playbook”

Why we can’t stop thinking about it: Say hello to Oscar nomination #2, Jennifer Lawrence.

While this oddball romantic comedy from the great David O. Russell might not necessarily be best picture material, one thing cannot be denied: Jennifer Lawrence is remarkable. As the recently widowed Tiffany, she enters into a dance contest with the equally screwed-up Pat (Bradley Cooper). At times, the film enters into full-on screwball comedy territory with its fast-paced, clever dialogue and host of wacky supporting characters. Lawrence shines in this genre, proving that she really can do just about anything; her neurosis is never grating, her crazy never off-putting. Lawrence is as charming, effective and captivating as ever, and she helps us buy every part of this unconventional love story, which could have fallen flat on its face with a lesser talent in the role.

Stand-out moment: The joyous dance competition sequence provides the most heartwarming climax of the year.

10. “The Most Fun I’ve Had With My Pants On”

Why we cant stop thinking about it: More female buddy road trip movies, please?

This charming semi-autobiographical film was written after writer/director/star Drew Denny’s father unexpectedly passed away, which inspired her to create an experimental live performance to help her deal with her grief. The film expands on that, following gorgeous free-spirited lesbian Andy (Denny) and by-the-book actress Liv (Sarah Hagan, playing expertly to type) on a road trip across the southwest to spread Denny’s father’s ashes and drop Liv at an audition in Austin. The sweetest moments emerge when the girls leave adulthood behind and play dress up, jump in the lake or draw on rocks, even if the drawings are of gravestones for those they have lost. Here is when they are at their best, most honest and most loving.

It’s only when men and sexuality enter the picture that the underlying competition and tension that haunts many female friendships comes through, tainting what is otherwise a beautiful connection. The movie additionally shows the lengths we go to to avoid dealing with the death of a loved one, and what a weight is lifted when we finally come to terms with it.

Stand-out moment: Andy assists Liv in her big audition for a film noir, and for a minute, as the color drops out of the screen and the score swells, we too are playing make-believe with the girls.

Honorable Mentions:

The sound design in the final scene of Abbas Kiarostami’s “Like Someone in Love.”

Garrett Hedlund in “On The Road.”

The unabashed insanity of “John Dies at the End.” Expect to see imagery pop up in Gallery 1988's Crazy 4 Cult show in 5 … 4 … 3 … 2 …

The last 20 minutes of Romania’s official selection for this year’s Oscars, “Beyond the Hills.”

Categories: Features

Tags: AFI Fest, Amour, Antiviral, Beyond the Hills, bradley cooper, brandon cronenberg, Caesar Must Die, David O. Russell, Final Cut: Ladies and Gentlemen, Jack Plotnick, Jennifer Lawrence, John Dies at the End, Ken Burns, Like Someone in Love, michael haneke, On the Road, Quentin Dupieux, Room 237, Siliver Linings Playbook, simon killer, The Central Park Five, The Most Fun I've Had With My Pants On, The Shining, william fichtner, Wrong, On the Road, The Silver Linings Playbook, Antiviral, Amour, Room 237, Caesar Must Die, Simon Killer, Wrong, The Central Park Five, Like Someone in Love, John Dies at the End, Beyond the Hills, Michael Haneke, Brandon Cronenberg, Caleb Landry Jones, Brady Corbet, Antonio Campos, Jack Plotnick, Quentin Dupieux, William Fichtner, Ken Burns, David O. Russell, Jennifer Lawrence, Bradley Cooper, Drew Denny, Sarah Hagan, Garrett Hedlund, Abbas Kiarostami

Captain America? What About Captain Britain?

Captain America is only hours away from making his big-screen debut, and if tracking and word of mouth holds true, he’ll be a smash hit with Americans and international audiences alike. The summer of superheroes will go out with a patriotic bang, which will undoubtedly encourage studios to dig into their comic book rights catalog and see if they have a nationalistic hero or heroine that’s ripe for adaptation. (Reportedly, Warner Bros and DC Comics have already started, and have dusted off Sgt. Rock as their answer to Steve Rogers.)

If I may be so bold, Marvel, why not jump into another character of red, white, and blue, and make a Captain Britain movie?

Unlike his Yankee cousin, Captain Britain has languished in pop culture obscurity. I’m not even sure he’s very popular in his homeland. If my visits to Forbidden Planet were an accurate assessment of UK geekery, the usual suspects like Batman, Superman, Wolverine, and Green Lantern dominate the market. (There was probably some Thor and Iron Man in there too, but who can find anything with all the Doctor Who displays?) Captain Britain just kicks around, dust collecting on his Amulet of Power, wondering why he’s so unloved. After all, he’s the only Marvel hero to have ever been penned by Alan “I’m sure you’ve heard of me” Moore. It’s downright unusual for a Moore character to be abandoned; even his run on Swamp Thing is spoken of in hushed whispers.

Sure, Captain Britain’s background is a little convoluted and cryptic. It starts out typical and marketable enough. An ordinary English boy named Brian Braddock loses his parents to hideous circumstances, he’s troubled and guilt-ridden, dodges death thanks to supernatural intervention, and is promptly gifted with superpowers by the universal guardians, Merlyn and Roma. (Isn’t that great? Roma may have nothing to do with Rome, but it still has that great Eagle and Dragon mythos going.) Naturally, things get bizarre with multiple Earths, confusion as to where his powers reside (His suit? His amulet? His scepter? His sense of self worth?), multiple deaths and resurrections, and a twin sister who actually switched races. But this is comic mythology, and these things happen. A good movie can cherry pick the good storylines and iron it all out.

And Captain Britain does have some great storylines and imagery. There’s a moment in Britain’s heroic run when he’s returning to England after doing a student exchange in America (where he roomed with Spider-Man!), and his plane is attacked by otherworldly forces. He attempts to save his fellow passengers and goes mad in the process. He experiences a vision of standing stones, which are — naturally — standing on the Isle of Avalon, where Arthur isn’t dead, but captive. Arthur reaches out to his fellow hero, and tries to guide him to safety and sanity. It’s probably these staid trappings which makes him boring to the UK, but really, how do you make a patriotic superhero without referring to the king who will someday return in England’s most desperate hour?

Mr. Braddock also has a good, Batmanish well of sorrow to draw on. As he suffers the slings and arrows of superhero fortune, he slowly discovers that his life has never really been his own. Merlyn and Roma plotted out his destiny long before he was born. He had no choice but to become Captain Britain. Even death is no escape, as they simply reconstitute him from whatever DNA bits they have left. What is a superhero to do? Suffer nobly? Try to buck the system? This is the stuff of great drama, and it’s not exactly the story Marvel has told before as all of their heroes have chosen to become something special. (Yes, Thor is born a god, but he has to choose whether he’ll be a powerful leader, or a powerless buffoon. Britain doesn’t have that choice. He’s constantly manipulated back into his suit.)

And the costume! Britain’s uniform may be the one superhero getup that doesn’t need major tweaking to work on a three-dimensional human. It’s sleek, stylish, and modern, and the Union Jack just flows on it, making it look like something a rock star could wear. (How did Captain America wind up with chainmail and a shield, and Britain walk away in motorcycle leather? It should be reversed.)

I can go on and on, and make your eyes swim with “and then, he teamed up with SHIELD!”, but there’s really no need. The best reason to make a Captain Britain movie is this: America hogs the superheroes. We’ve got them all. The only ones who loudly and proudly retain their “otherness” are Thor, Wonder Woman, and Wolverine, and even they tend to spend more time in New York than their homelands. I love America, but it seems unfair to demand Superman fight for only our ways, Wonder Woman bedeck her bosom with our eagle, and Thor to relocate Asgard above Oklahoma. (This happened.) Wouldn’t it be nice if England had Captain Britain, and Russia had Black Widow, and Japan had the Silver Samurai, and they were all good (if occasionally at odds) guys and girls? Shouldn’t a global, save-the-world blockbuster actually include other citizens of the planet?

Perhaps that’s a little maudlin and It’s-A-Small Worldish. Maybe it’s enough solidarity that we’ve got British and Australian men playing all the superheroes. That’s fine. I just want Captain Britain to rock that costume and fly the rainy English skies. I want him to join forces with Captain America in a show of solidarity, and be on call for the Avengers when they fly into another time zone. I want him to lose his memory and go live in Cornwall as a hermit, forcing Tony Stark to come after him with a been there, done that, put the suit back on pep talk. Introducing forgotten or lonely characters is what a crossover universe is meant for, and I can’t think of a more worthy candidate for an update than Captain Britain.

A Long Column About the Length of Movies

On the matter of movie length, Roger Ebert has summarized what every filmgoer knows intuitively: “No good movie is too long, and no bad movie is short enough.” Or as the old journalism saying goes, “A story should be like a woman’s skirt: long enough to cover the important parts, but short enough to keep things interesting.” (Old journalism sayings tend to be sexist. Don’t blame me.)

The point is, it’s impossible to universally declare a “right” length for movies. Three hours sounds too long — but not to the people watching and loving Lord of the Rings it isn’t. An hour and 18 minutes sounds way too short — until the film turns out to be Date Movie, in which case an hour and 18 minutes is way too long.

The subject came up recently among movie nerds when it was revealed that this week’s new Winnie the Pooh film is a scant 68 minutes. And as it turns out, that includes the closing credits and the animated short that opens the film, “The Ballad of Nessie.” Winnie the Pooh itself, without the short and credits, is only about 55 minutes. For this you should pay 10 bucks?

I have an acquaintance who thinks in those terms. Why pay 10 dollars for a 68-minute short-and-feature when the same 10 dollars could get you the 153-minute Transformers: Dark of the Moon? Why, that’s more than twice as much value for your dollar! That is his reasoning.

To be fair, he’s a cheapskate who only thinks about money. But he may be onto something. At some point, a movie WOULD be too short to be worth a full-price ticket. Less than 60 minutes is probably where that point would be for most people, psychologically, though it’s worth noting that the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (i.e., the Academy Awards) considers anything longer than 40 minutes to be a “feature.” Besides, it’s not like Hollywood is intentionally cranking out 65-minute movies on a regular basis in an effort to defraud us. Zookeeper was fraudulent, and it was 102 minutes long.

The first movies were all shorts, of course. What we’d call “feature-length” films were a novelty. Even the features that were produced between 1900 and 1915 were shorter than we’re used to now: Richard III (1912), the first American feature, was only 55 minutes; The Story of the Kelly Gang (1906), an Australian picture that holds the distinction of being the world’s first feature, clocked in at 70 minutes.

Although features became commonplace by 1920 — America produced 682 of them in 1921 — they continued to be comparatively short through the black-and-white era. This fit with the way the business was run, though. In the 1930s, you’d pay your nickel or whatever for a movie ticket, then watch a newsreel, a cartoon, a short, and a feature. Usually it was a double feature, actually, with the B-movie (the less important one) serving as opening act for a more prominent one. The point is, there was a lot going on. Nobody was going to sit through a double feature where both movies were two hours long, PLUS the opening shorts.

Longer movies also cost more to make (duh), and during the studio era this was a major consideration. You’d have your prestigious exceptions — your big Mutiny on the Bounty (1935, 132 minutes) or Gone with the Wind (1939, 224 minutes) — but for the most part, studio heads wanted to crank ‘em out as cheaply as possible. The term “B-movie” thus came to be associated with films that were inexpensive, short (often 60-70 minutes), and not very good. They were just fine as the bottom half of a double feature, though.

Newsreels started to become obsolete as soon as TV news became a thing, and the studios eventually stopped making live-action shorts, too, with only the cartoons remaining. And what about the double feature? It went away. The 1948 Supreme Court case of United States v. Paramount Pictures had a dramatic impact on Hollywood, basically ending the studio system as it was then constituted. Prior to that, the studios owned the movie theaters, too, guaranteeing they always had a place to show their stuff, and making it cheaper to do so. (You don’t have to give the exhibitor as big a cut of the ticket sales when you own the exhibitor.) With this no longer allowed, the studios had to sell off their theaters and compete with each other for venues — which meant they had to make better movies. Exhibitors had the power now. They could choose which movies they wanted to show based on which ones they thought would sell the most tickets, and that forced the studios to start emphasizing quality rather than quantity. Production costs went up, the studios made fewer films, and the double feature disappeared.

Today, running times have settled into a fairly predictable pattern depending on genre. Cartoons tend to be 90 minutes or less, owing to children’s shorter attention spans and the painstaking nature of animation. (As computer animation has gotten cheaper and less time-consuming, the movies have gotten longer. The first CG feature, Toy Story, was 80 minutes; nine years later, The Incredibles was 115.) Somewhere around 90 to 100 minutes is the sweet spot for live-action comedies, too, less if it’s a spoof, more if it’s an improv-heavy Judd Apatow joint. Action/adventure films usually come in at 100-125 minutes, so do straightforward dramas. Your big epic movies and biopics are often longer than that, owing to the amount of material to be covered.

But just as we’ve all seen bloated, overlong dramas that didn’t deserve all the screen time they got, we’ve also seen outstanding shorter movies that didn’t need to be a minute longer than they were. Some examples:

- Duck Soup (1933) – 68 min.
- Bride of Frankenstein (1935) – 75 min.
- Dumbo (1941) – 64 min. (And we don’t see him fly until the last four minutes! All the reviews totally spoiled that.)
- Bambi (1942) – 70 min.
- Rashomon (1950) – 88 min.
- High Noon (1952) – 85 min.
- Paths of Glory (1957) – 87 min.
- Airplane! (1980) – 87 min.
- The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985) – 84 min.
- Before Sunset (2004) – 80 min.
- Once (2006) – 85 min.

(For the record, Winnie the Pooh belongs on that list too.)