skip to main |
skip to sidebar
A new challenger approaches for "The Dragon Warrior" Po and the Furious Five: Kai (J.K. Simmons), a sword-swinging yak warrior who escaped the spirit realm by stealing the chi of legendary martial artists and turning them into his jade minions. Only able to fight chi with chi, Po must learn another martial art power while also ascending into the role of head teacher and grappling with the sudden arrival of his birth father (Bryan Cranston) and his request to return to their secret panda village. KUNG FU PANDA 3 is both a better film than the depressing second entry into the franchise and a worthy ending chapter to these animated adventures, as evident by its very overtly celebratory conclusion. It once again boasts some amazing computer-generated action choreography, a beautiful Hans Zimmer score, fantastic sound design, and some nicely comedic performances and gags. Some of the flashy creative decisions by returning director Jennifer Yuh Nelson and her new cohort Alessandro Carloni, such as the rampant split-screening, don't always work but are made up by other ones, such as the gorgeous sequence where an exposition-laden scroll is drawn in 2D. Though I did really enjoy the safe arms Dreamworks Animation is willing to hold us in, I felt it was too safe and it got to be a bit ho-hum. Maybe it is my own lack of passion with the series or the still severe burn I received with KUNG FU PANDA 2 but the story itself is as predictable as a 22 minute television episode. A new environment, a new monster of the week, a new power, squabbling that is easily wrapped up, and a new deus ex machina all are lay to bear here. They even try to have a body count and say that your favorites are doomed forever but even a kid will know that everything will work alright in the end. Not a total revelation or a nice rebirth to the Dreamworks Renaissance but a wise choice to be enthralled by.
FINAL REVIEW: 3 / 5
Red is the odd bird out, a disgruntled loner on Bird Island whose generic ire rubs the rest of the happy residents the wrong way. Never mind the sheer fact that we see the other denizens as jerks and bullies some times, apparently Red is the only one who should be punished and sentenced into taking anger management classes. All of a sudden, a pirate ship full of green pigs arrive on the isle bearing gifts, whose dark intentions can only be spotted and warned by Red and his fellow mean spirits. THE ANGRY BIRDS MOVIE is simply so-so, thus sadly making it one of the better video game adaptations of all time. The conflict is as basic as it was in the original mobile time-waster ("Our eggs! Let's GET 'EM!") and Rovio and Sony spend most of the film's energy and money on being broadly entertaining and kinetically animated. However, though I can suitably kick back a lazy afternoon with this in front of me, the movie is liable of infecting viewers with ADD. Everything is so rushed and debilitating to the senses, with a random pop musical number arriving every eight minutes, destructive action sequences where nothing can be comprehended, and montages that don't know how to lapse time properly. The clearest example happens right at the end, when you sit through another animated dance finale only to oddly cut to little scene where some just recently introduced beings get to do their video game special move. It's like first-time directors Clay Kaytis and Fergal Reilly were so enamored with the character of Chuck, voiced by Josh Gad, that they wanted to imbue his speed demon behavior into the fabric of the film. Speaking of acting, save for maybe Gad, Danny McBride as the calmly explosive Bomb and Peter Dinklage as the severely lame Mighty Eagle, the way too talented voice cast is utterly wasted, further giving proof that maybe it's better to give some movie voice work to real voice actors. People like Kate McKinnon, Titus Burgess, Billy Eichner, and Charli XCX, to name a few, are given absolutely nothing to work with, nor are they able to stand out to due to the near nil characterization of all of the animals. But why should the makers care about anything like individual personalities when they can have a sequence set to Limp Bizkit's horrendous cover of "Behind Blue Eyes"? If you can accept the CG chaos for what it is and are fine with you or your kids hearing "Flock my life" or "We're angry flocking birds!" in a PG movie, this could be a fine throwaway rental later down the line.
FINAL REVIEW: 2 / 5
Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Teaser Trailer
Watch It Here
Person of Interest: Emma Watson as Disney's live action Belle, the Beast's Rose, and Ewan McGregor and Ian McKellen as the unseen but heard Lumière and Cogsworth.
Scene Pop: It's a very brief teaser so there's is nothing really applicable.
Effective?: Mildly yes. This is just a dabble of what's to come and only really showcases the real-life recreations of the Beast's animated castle. Plus, hearing Alan Menken's gorgeous score also helps. However, if you compare it to the original teaser for Kenneth Branagh's Cinderella (look at this slipper!), it's a damn masterpiece.
Check it Out?: Oh hell yes. I am not a very huge fan of the Disney animated to live action adaptations (see my review of The Jungle Book for proof) but I frankly adore Beauty and the Beast and will glad pay an opening weekend ticket for its reinterpretation.
At last year's edition of the Cannes Film Festival, it concluded with an upset win and the overall celebration of global filmmaking was largely uneventful. Apparently, that thick air of disappointment has descended upon the festival again, as the Main Competition jury went completely opposite from the critical body and handed out prizes to films that were among the worst received with audiences. When you have a body presided over by George Miller and filled with the likes of Kirsten Dunst, Mads Mikkelsen, Vanessa Paradis, Donald Sutherland, Valeria Golino, and last year's Grand Prix winner László Nemes, you would think they would have chosen more wisely. Of course, my and other's opinions might change once these awarded films reach our viewing platforms but considering the close-to-being-severe outrage from professional observers, and the fact that previous big winner Dheepan just came out here in the States to a large meh response, I don't really see the tide turning at any time.
Legendary British director Ken Loach received the Palme d'Or for I, Daniel Blake much to his and everyone else's surprise. This win makes him one of the few double Palme winners in the history of the festival, as he won previously for The Wind That Shakes The Barley. Many theorized that Jimmy's Hall would have been Loach's last film, especially after its dismal reception here, but he was able to churn out another. Now, as for the film itself, it was politely respected but found a bit disposable, as it is just another one of his social realistic dramas, with a unhealthy dollop of depression on top. In this cookie-cutter entry, the titular character is fighting to earn disability benefits, only to be caught up by red tape and mismanagement. Along this sad path, he meets up with a single mother and her kids, who also are having problems dealing with the people controlling the welfare department. Sounds like a barrel of laughs, doesn't it?
The Grand Prix, a.k.a. the 2nd place ribbon, was stunningly given to It's Only the End of the World, the latest from the annoyingly smug Canadian director Xavier Dolan. He is sadly a prolific presence at this festival, earning a spot in 2015's main jury and last seen in the winner's circle in 2014 with his divisive Mommy a.k.a. the movie with the 1.1 aspect ratio. However, like fellow Cannes "favorite" Naomi Kawase, Dolan's reach and popularity does not extend beyond the French Riveria. His new whiny movie, involving an ailing writer who reunites with his family and expected tension come bubbling up, was lambasted and booed by critics and given some of the worst reviews of the entire festival. Further jeers came bellowing out when he was announced as the winner at the ceremony.
The Jury Prize, a.k.a. the bronze medal, went to American Honey, the long-awaited new film from Andrea Arnold (Red Road, Fish Tank). Clocking in at an outrageous time of 162 minutes, it is a road picture involving a reckless teenage girl who joins along in the wild and crazy adventures of some traveling magazine salesmen, including Shia LaBeouf, and getting caught up in a love affair amid all of the partying. Largely given a mixed response, the attention was more focused on newcomer Sasha Lane, who was lauded for her lead performance, and LaBeouf, who was expectedly sneered at for his scene-chewing actions.
Best Director went to a tie. First up was acclaimed Romanian director Cristian Mungiu for Graduation, a cagey drama where a doctor's daughter is too traumatized by a sexual assault to do well on an academic test, so he must bribe his way in order for her to succeed. Sharing in the accolade with Mungiu was Olivier Assayas for Personal Shopper, a strange horror thriller but played like a drama. Assayas teams up again with actress Kristen Stewart, who won a César in their last film together Clouds of Sils Maria, to craft a flick where Stewart plays a personal assistant/spirit medium who believes she is in contact with the ghost of her twin brother. Containing a long, long sequence where the heroine has a text message conversation with an unknown number on a train trip, the film was booed by the press (what film isn't here?) but earned minor press mainly for Assayas' audacity and Stewart's acting.
Best Screenplay normally goes to a serious downer but Asghar Farhadi's The Salesman is a straight up Iranian thriller. An acting couple, who perform daily as Willy and Linda Loman in a production of Death of a Salesman, move into a new apartment only for the wife to be surprise attacked by a stranger while in the shower. Hoping to help his loved one, the husband follows the clues until reaching an emotionally tense confrontation. Farhadi's frequent collaborator Shahab Hosseini also nabbed up the Best Actor award for the film.
Probably the most perplexing win other than the Palme was Best Actress being given to Jaclyn Jose for her performance in Ma' Rosa. Lambasted by critics for its dirty morality and ugly cinematography, the Filipino joint involves a connivence store couple who are arrested by the cops for selling meth and forced to have their own children get the hush money, by any means necessary, in order to bust them out. The fact that Jose beat out a large amount of competition this year is astonishing.
Now it comes time to talk about those that were unloved, starting with the big one: Toni Erdmann. This was the odds-on favorite to win it all, as it quickly became the breakout film of the entire festival. This three hour comedy (!) had crowds applauding with joy, as it chronicled a working woman who's hounded by her prank-playing father, only for him to leave for a bit and return as the titled figure, a so-called life coach who walks around in public wearing a bag wig and teeth. Despite earning the distinction of having the highest average critical rating in the history of Screen International with a 3.8, it was snubbed beyond belief. At least Sony Pictures Classics sees something in it, as they are set to distribute it later this year. Take that, Loach!
As for the others: Paul Verhoeven made his welcome return to the center stage with Elle, an f'ed up thriller starring Isabelle Huppert as a CEO who tracks down the rapist who attacked her and who she neglected to inform the police about; Nicolas Winding Refn finally unleashed The Neon Demon, a dark Hollywood fable where Elle Fanning is the new It Girl; Jeff Nichols went 2 for 2 this year with his second feature and Oscar hopeful Loving, with Joel Edgerton and Ruth Negga as the real-life interracial couple who fought the law for their love; Jim Jarmusch and Adam Driver came together like peanut butter and chocolate with Paterson, a slack existential journey into the week of a poetry-writing bus driver from New Jersey; Severe guffaws were handed out with Sean Penn's The Last Face, his sheer dumb attempt to have a torrid romance set during the Second Liberian Civil War; Park Chan-wook (Oldboy) returned to Korea and his normal grindhouse ways with The Handmaiden; Pedro Almodóvar showed off Julieta for the first time outside Spain, where its twisty melodrama and short story structure earned it some praise; The Dardenne Brothers returned to their usual spot in the Competition with The Unknown Girl, a serial murder mystery that is nothing like their usual work; Cristi Puiu (The Death Of Mr. Lazarescu) had to be the odd Romanian out, as his funeral family drama Sieranevada did him no favors with its eye-level cinematography and near three hour running time; Alain Guiraudie followed up his queer favorite Stranger By The Lake with Staying Vertical, an insane-sounding film where a young screenwriter is caught by sudden life changes, gay flirtation and surreal predicaments; Disturbing auteur Bruno Dumont tried and failed to do black comedy again with Slack Bay, which crosses a Romeo and Juliet scenario with cannibals; French actress Nicole Garcia continued her blah directorial effort with From The Land Of The Moon, a stupid sounding movie where Marion Cotillard has no life beyond going crazy at the sight of men and suffering from kidney stones; and finally Aquarius gave Sonia Braga a meaty role as the last tenant in an old apartment building.
Additional highlights and those in Un Certain Regard: Woody Allen opened the festivities with Café Society but his mediocre at best attempt at doing The Apartment with some gangsters thrown in was absolutely overshadowed by his disturbing interviews and a rape joke that was thrown at him at a party; Steven Spielberg premiered The BFG, whose early word is that it works as an average fantasy flick riddled with CGI; Chris Pine and Ben Foster robbed banks and had shootouts with Texas Ranger Jeff Bridges in Hell or High Water, David Mackenzie's follow-up feature to Starred Up; Studio Ghibli and Wild Bunch showed off their animated collaborated effort The Red Turtle; Hirokazu Koreeda was relegated to the minor leagues this year with the feel-good dramedy After The Storm; and The Happiest Day In The Life of Olli Mäkiwon, Finland's answer to Rocky but shot in 16mm B&W, won the Un Certain Regard Award.
Rell (Jordan Peele) quickly recovers from a bad breakup when a cute kitten ends up on his doorstep. This new bliss is sadly only temporary, as the newly named Keanu is spirited away by unknown intruders. Roping in his close cousin Clarence (Keegan-Michael Key), the two's search for the missing cat leads them into a world of drug running and renegade assassins. KEANU works as a cinematic entry point for the Key & Peele brand of humor, allowing the comedy duo to shine in their own special manner and establish a great counterpoint to all of the Ferrells, Apatows, Rogens and other white voices that are offered to the public. I do stress this as a starter piece as the two don't really go for broke with their material, instead delivering a simple story with easy to solve consequences despite all of the harsh violence and language surrounding the two squirming softies. Though it is funny throughout the picture, the two comedians certainly squeeze the ever living out of jokes around the discography of George Michael and the easy art of fronting, which get a bit tiresome by the halfway point. Though I do wish Key & Peele were a little more edgy out of the gate, again, this movie is perfectly fine with what it wants to be: a clean and efficient debut for one of most popular comedic voices today.
FINAL REVIEW: 3 / 5
Unchecked industrialist Chairman Drek (Paul Giamatti) puts his master plan into action, blasting multiple celestial bodies and harvesting their best parts in order to craft his own jigsaw-like perfect planet. Seemingly only the Galactic Rangers, led by dumb egotist Captain Qwark (Jim Ward), are able to stop him but they for some reason need a fifth team member. Lowly furry mechanic Ratchet (James Arnold Taylor) tries to join up but is quickly rejected, only to gain a second chance at his dream job when a small robot later dubbed Clank (David Kaye) crash lands nears his home. RATCHET & CLANK not only continues the sad march of film companies failing to adapt a popular video game properly, it somehow ends up being one of the most frustrating examples imaginable, doubly so considering how much material and time they had to do it justice. I may have loathed all of the serious missteps in previous bad video game movies like DOUBLE DRAGON, but at least those makers were fully aware that when you make a buddy action flick, you make plenty of time for buddy interactions and simple camaraderie. Here, the cocky Lombax and the blunt-talking automaton spend the majority of the running time on opposite ends of the adventure, with the former on the battlefield while the latter stays on the ship. When they do come together as they normal did in the games, they possess absolutely no chemistry, despite the original voice actors being hired on. The fault of the film falls entirely on Kevin Munroe's hands, due to his sheer poor direction and the terrible script he co-wrote. Scenes are clearly missing, characters suffer from tonal whiplash, and the action heroics are beyond dull, all left unedited and underdeveloped just so Munroe and his buddies can include more texting jokes (all on old flip phones no less!) and end every single sequence with an escape shuttle being launched. Additionally, what really drove me nerd crazy was the pathetic attempts at fan service. The famously inventive weaponry of the games are just thrown randomly in, never explaining to anyone watching why Ratchet abruptly has gravity boots or a giant wrench, and/or suffer the terrible fate of being completely botched, such as how Mr. Zurkon is bizarrely turned into a fleet of useless baddies or how the R.Y.N.O. is an ineffective dud. Even if you can sit through it meh proceedings, enjoy the few good laughs it possesses or be pleased by the devilish character of Doctor Nefarious, RATCHET & CLANK is a clumsy affair that would even baffle the kids. Now please, please don't screw up SLY COOPER, Sony and Munroe!
FINAL REVIEW: 2 / 5
Young punk band The Ain't Rights are running on fumes literally and figuratively when they catch a break to be the opening act at a bar filled to the brim with Neo-Nazis. Everything goes normal for them, relishing in the spit, thrown beer and moshing, but things quickly turn for the worse when bassist Pat (Anton Yelchin) walks in on a murder. Barricaded in the titled space, they and secondary witness Amber (Imogen Poots) must find a way to escape the calculated viciousness of the bar's owner/Neo-Nazi ringleader Darcy (Patrick Stewart). Jeremy Saulnier hits it out of the park again, perfectly following-up his previous feature BLUE RUIN with another artfully made genre film fully charged with horrifically realistic violence and pulpy dialogue. The script treads down some of the usual plot paths of siege films but also loves to take a few routes less travel by in order to shake up the viewer. Examples include a near early exit for a protagonist, a newly discovered environment that doesn't play into the usual theatrics that come with deadly blockade dramas, and flipping one of film's big taboos in order to sadistically re-educate the thoughts of the audience. All of the actors do very admirable jobs, despite often being overshadowed by the unnerving gore, but Stewart stands firmly out as the quiet mastermind whose high intelligence causes him to easily outthink his opponents and solve problems that suddenly come into question. Though the film ends up being a solidly terrifying horror-thriller, it does falter a bit severely with a last act that feels unearned. The near-constant monotone inflictions of the traumatized heroes and the mumbly sound mixing also doesn't help matters. But those doesn't utterly prevent GREEN ROOM from being one blissful shot of punk and slaughter.
FINAL REVIEW: 4 / 5
