The Revenant

Let’s face it.

Leo Dicaprio may never win his sweet, jelly-filled Oscar, but by God he is going to die trying and The Revenant is a testament this statement.

Set in early 1800s Montana, contract trapper and Cabela’s Big Hunt extraordinaire Hugh Glass and his party of fellow burly, beefy, bulky, bearded trappers are on their way back to Ft. Grizzly Adams (or something) to rake in the dough for their contracted haul of pelts. In this party of merry men is John Fitzgerald (Tom Hardy yet again portraying a stoic badass who communicates exclusively in pessimistic proverbs and unintelligible grunts), Glass’s half Native, half White whiny bitch of a son Hawk, a few other tough skinned ruffians, and the kid from We’re the Millers.

Well, as you probably saw in the trailers, Glass has kind of a rough day what with being nearly mauled to death by a grisly grizzly, helplessly watching his only son murdered in front of him, and, to top it off, being buried alive before dragging himself across the Midwestern tundra in an attempt to exact revenge on the man who left him to die.

Cue Daniel Powter music

There’s so much to this film that I’ll have to condense most of what I want to say down to a few paragraphs.

Directing: If Alejandro González Iñárritu is ever troubled with a water shortage localized to his house, he need not worry because he’ll be fucking showering in all the Oscars he’ll reap this season. Beautifully captured long shots are the pulse of The Revenant’s tension filled story.

Cinematography: Pure, unadulterated, triple-distilled, gluten-free, X-rated Earth porn. The shots in this movie make Victoria Falls look like a urinal at Pita Pit. This is right up there on the top shelf  of cinematography with Lawrence of Arabia, Barry Lyndon, and 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Acting: Just give Leo his damn Oscar so we can shut up about it already. This year’s Oscars yield a particularly weak grouping of Best Actor nominees so it’s (crosses fingers) basically a lock for Leo to finally get his statue, unless the Academy decides to blue ball him for yet another year and give the trophy to Eddie Redmayne for his topical role as Caitlyn Jen- I mean Lili Elbe.

Bundling those three paragraphs together makes it seem like The Revenant is the must see, heart pounding film of the year, which is hardly the case. The film runs for a tedious 2 hours and 36 minutes, so if you are at all tired going into the theater be warned: I fell asleep twice, and Iñárritu’s extensive use of long shots may lull some to sleep and risk missing out on some deliciously brutal scenes.

In short, The Revenant is a fantastic look into the savage capability of man and boasts some of the most beautiful cinematography put on camera, but I have no desire to sit through it again.

It Follows

We’ve all had the feeling. That lingering, creeping dread that somewhere just outside your peripheral, someone, something, is watching you, following you relentlessly and endlessly, and no matter how hard your attempt to shut it out, it never disappears.

I’ll wait a second to let the shiver that scurried up your spine fade.

It Follows begins with protagonist Jay, a girl presumably on the cusp of entering adulthood, preparing for a date with her boy toy Hugh. All is well so far (actually, eh, not so sure. It’s set in Detroit) until Hugh kidnaps Jay and takes her to an abandoned building on what one can only assume to be Exposition St. Hugh tells of a curse he has transmitted to Jay. A curse that dooms the carrier to an eternity of being stalked by an entity that can manifest as anyone, and is only visible to current and past (living) carriers. The sole method of receiving this curse? 

The horizontal mambo. 

Adult nap time. 

Disappointing the wife. 

Gland-to-gland combat. 

Tunnel patrol. 

Sex.

Not a very creepy segue, I know, but I wanted to dissipate some of the stigma around the simple concept of sex seeing as sexual tension found in It Follows could support a whorehouse built entirely of John Goodman. 

The thing is that it doesn’t take away from how effective It Follows turned out. From Jay’s first encounter with the creeping entity to the film’s hauntingly ambiguous end, the audience is trapped within an intensely claustrophobic environment. Constantly on the run, Jay and company never seem to buy enough time to figure just what the hell they’re dealing with. Funny thing is, neither do we, the audience. And that is what I consider It Follows’ master stroke. It abandons that worn out horror trope of simultaneously revealing the creature for what it really is and vanquishing it with some bullshit copout like the power of love or having the protagonist being startled awake in an insane asylum as the camera slowly pans away. 

I don’t want to discuss too much of the plot since watching the film fold out was half the fun. It’s the underlying theme and the debate on what this film is trying to say. Some reviewers around the Web submit that It Follows is a simple metaphor for the danger of STD transmission amongst young adults and how it will follow you wherever you go after contraction. This seems a little too elementary for a film that was greatly directed and executed. 

Others hold the opinion that It Follows is a reflection on the idea that at no matter what point you are at in your life, time is running out and always will be. I take this side of the debate simply because it makes more sense considering the film’s subject matter. The ambiguity of the entity stalking Jay and its previous curse carriers doesn’t really scream “I am herpes. Do you understand the metaphor?” It says, “I am the grains of sand in the hourglass. I’ll fall and fall and fall until you end.” spooky voice

As every great fan of horror understands, the imagination is far more capable of disturbing your psyche than anything the camera can pick up. Or so many should think, because for every worthwhile horror film released, an eternity we must wait for another to come around. I’ve grown tired of exhaling forcefully every time I spot another one of the found footage, jump-scare yawn-a-thons that have outstayed their welcome in the cinematic market. It Follows is a breath of fresh air in a stale genre, and I highly recommend you see it. 

But make it sooner rather than later because, remember, time is running out.

Jurassic World

Ok, it took me two viewings of Jurassic World to muster up some courage and finally write about it. The first viewing I went with a few friends in Spokane about three weeks ago. At that time I was fairly confident in my ability to bust out some belly laugh-inducing review about the film’s flaws and glaring inferiority to the original Jurassic Park. But alas, there was no inspiration, no wit, no motivation, no nothing. So I waited. I waited until I finally moved back home from college to see if I could smash my writer’s block. 

Nothing.

I knew I had to see the film again, so I did. This time in Lacey with my dad Stan the Man, in SWEEPING 3-D IMAX MAJESTY (the price of which is $34 for two adults, fair warning.) I can finally write a review for the blockbuster movie of the pre-summer.

Jurassic World returns 20 years later to the Central American Isla Nublar, the tropical site of John Hammond’s Jurassic Park attraction in the original film. But instead of the park being in its beta stages, the island hosts an extravagant, internationally renowned and successful resort and prehistoric park that has been in operation for ten years. Park operations manager and control freak extraordinaire Claire (Bryce Dallas Howard) seeks out former boyfriend and current velociraptor trainer Owen Grady (Chris Pratt) to inspect the resort’s newest attraction, the Indominus rex, a genetically engineered super-dino created to appease the masses’ insatiable appetite of “bigger, better, cooler, more teeth.” As expected, all hell breaks loose as the iRex escapes and runs rampant across the island. 

Now the question you’re all thinking is “Could Jurassic World be the chosen one? Could it be our prehistoric, cinematic savior that will guide us and Chris Pratt fangirls to the Promised Land of Isla Nublar and reinvigorate the love we used to have for the franchise?"

If only.

Yes. Kind of. 

J-Dubs intended to lead its acolytes to the land of milk and honey, but instead got a little exhausted about three-quarters of the way there and settled for a nice 3-star Marriott halfway between Costa Rica and Isla Nublar. This isn’t to say that the movie was a let-down. Far from it. Jurassic World was chock full of all the bombastic dino-action found in the original. The visual effects are obviously an upgrade from previous installments (though I think the practical effects and animatronics from Jurassic Park are still unmatched). 

But that’s about it. Most other aspects of the film fall either just short or well below the standards of Jurassic Park. (If it’s not clear at this point, the first two sequels do not hold water in this discussion. Everything I posit is a comparison to the original.) As I was saying, I did enjoy the movie but there’s no chance in hell it becomes a standalone classic. There was no substantial character development, and there occurred a few times where what seemed to be foreshadowing of emotional depth turned out to be empty dialogue attempting to briefly fool the audience into sympathizing with two major characters. Don't get me wrong, the acting was solid all around. Howard portrays a convincing no nonsense control freak, the two kids we're supposed to become attached to are....pretty normal siblings, and Chris Pratt is magnificent as Chris Pratt in a vest. But there is just no emotional connection.

The other bone I really need to pick with J-Dubs are some of the corn-fed one liners. For example, “It’s just like taking a walk in the woods…65 million years ago. Throws rifle over shoulder and stares heroically into the distance.” Or, “Monster is a relative term. To a canary, a cat is a monster. We’re just used to being the cat.” Barf. 

I’m not sure what I expected from screenwriters Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver, known for penning Dawn/Rise of the Planet of the Apes, but surely more than this. I know for a scientifically proven fact I expected more from other co-writer Derek Connolly, writer of Safety Not Guaranteed, a film I enjoyed in almost every way. I did love the many homages to Jurassic Park inserted into this one, but I’ll let you try to spot them for yourself. 

Goldblumimas fantasticus.

I’m sure Jurassic World will split audiences into two major parties: the “OMG DINOSAURS ARE SO BIG AND AWESOME AND WHOA LOOK AT IT ROAR BEST MOVIE EVER” pre-teens, and the “I’ll appreciate the film for what it is but it doesn’t live up to its great-grandpa” casuals. Don’t go into the film searching for the franchise continuation we’ve all been waiting for, rather look at it as its own story that is simply in the same universe as the first three films. 

Oh, and when you finally reach the climactic final battle, you better clap your goddamn hands.

Mad Max: Fury Road

As an aspiring writer of some sort I’ve always tried my best to add to my relatively limited vocabulary. Whenever a seemingly spritely, bizarre, or peculiar word has the privilege of gracing my eardrums, I sophisticatedly and scientifically catalogue it into my iPhone’s “Notes” feature.  A few weeks ago my ears tripped over another fine linguistic specimen and I’ve just been itching to pull it out of my phone and gratuitously spew it everywhere. It just so happens that my next review, Mad Max: Fury Road, brings about as close to a perfect opportunity I’ll ever have to use it, I think.

GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH.

Garish. adjective. “Offensively or distressingly bright and vivid.”

No, seriously. Everything about the most recent installment of the Mad Max franchise screams insanity and over-the-top action. And by God, director George Miller, magnificent bastard that he is, could not have executed it any more garishly. 

Fury Road immediately throws the audience into what can only be assumed to be the same post-apocalyptic desert wasteland of the first three films, where simple modern life-sustaining commodities (water, gasoline) are something the inhabitants of this hell might not even think to write on their list to wasteland Santa. The only “stable” population we see in the movie is a community somewhat lacking in egalitarian ideologies. By this I mean 95% of people are dying of thirst and worship a man known as Immortan Joe, the tyrannical offspring of Skeletor and Edgar Winter. Our protagonist, Max (Tom Hardy), escapes imprisonment from Immortan Joe’s pseudo-city, dubbed the Citadel, and reluctantly but fortunately teams up with the most badass female killing machine since Ellen Ripley, Imperator Furiosa (Charlize Theron). The stoic duo travel across a seemingly infinite outback desperately trying to outrun Joe and his army of fanatic motorhead acolytes who apparently watched waaaaaay too much Junkyard Wars. That being said, they are a tad pissed off that Furiosa is transporting Joe’s five “wives”, women exclusively selected for breeding, to the fabled oasis of The Green Place...and wherever Max is going.

Cirque du Soleil meets Scrapheap Challenge

I’ll try to be a bit more descriptive: Fury Road is like if Speed, Commando, and The Road had a threesome and conceived a child that was raised by Michael Bay, and Nicolas Winding Refn had visitation rights. But this cinematic lovechild does not run on retina-splitting visuals alone. Much credit must be given to Hardy, whose Max makes it abrasively clear that this isn’t his first death- and-probably-physics defying rodeo. Same goes for Theron’s Furiosa. An emotionally and most likely psychologically drained warrior, she is Max sans what men hold most dear. Together they form a likely yet unlikely relationship made almost entirely of elbow grease and firepower. There are scores of other characters that captured my attention, but none like these two.

Technically, the film is stunning. It appears as though the special effects artists tried to outdo one another each alternating scene and it’s just marvelous. Sweeping and intimate cinematography plunge the audience mercilessly into each bullet-riddled and flame-laden sequence of events. Throughout the entire movie you feel like the lifeless barren of Fury Road’s scorched outback actually exists. 

I'm a loner, and a loner's gotta be alone. Unless my life depends on other people.

You may bet thinking, “But Dylan, you brazen and triumphant stallion, is this movie just explosions, incredible stunts, and GARISHNESS rolled into a jumbo package of bullets, flamethrowers, and car chases?” I’m happy to say no, far from it.

There are a few quieter sections of the film that individually delve into the pain and desperation that have come to define each character, and in these timid moments you, too, will feel their sorrow. It’s just that powerful. I won’t spoil too much but I will say this: don’t underestimate the power of the human spirit. Especially a spirit that has undergone a lifetime’s worth of neglect, anger, physical and emotional abuse, and the innumerable harrowing experiences of losing those closest to them.

I speak no hyperbole when I say Fury Road will go down as an instant action classic and possibly as one of the greatest action films ever. A bold statement? Yes. Do I think I'm wrong? Fuck no.

I'm Back (with Dragons)

Remember when Toy Story 2 was released in 1999? I don’t, but I feel like I should have. It’s the second installment in a what would later become a trilogy of films that captured the hearts of the kicking, screaming, bitching six-year-old in all of us. We couldn’t wait to see it, and when we did…it was pretty much the same as the first. It wasn’t until we were around 12 or 13 we found ourselves re-watching it to get our nostalgia fix at whatever lame movie party our middle school board thought was a good idea. Then it became abundantly clear. This is much better than the original. How did we not see it’s glory before? (Well, we were six when we first watched it and our underdeveloped cognitive processing only reacted to stimuli comprised of toilet humor and jokes about fat people.) Anyway, it was the first time I had experienced a sequel surpassing it’s predecessor. 

This is the most recent.

How To Train Your Dragon 2 has the audience return to the dinky cliff village of Berk, a once dragon-fearing community populated with stereotypical viking folk. You know, the helmets with the horns, braided hair and (somehow) silky smooth beards approaching their knees, all that good stuff. The Berk from the initial film eventually embraced the idea of man and dragon living in harmony, which is where this film takes off. Well, five years later. Hero of Berk and now chief-to-be Hiccup (Jay Baruchel) and his trusty Night Fury dragon Toothless and friends discover a band of dragon trappers hellbent on gathering all dragons in the world to build a dragon army for madman tyrant Drago Bludvist. Along the way Hiccup and Co. experience first-hand the tragedy, celebration, responsibility, and opportunities that come with the Growing Up Bundle Package. 

Timeshare?

The first film in the series introduces the audience to an all-new universe, relatable characters, and some of the finest 3D animation ever to appear on screen. The next installment takes the first film, straps it down, knocks it out, and pumps it full of cinematic steroids.

I’m not kidding. How To Train Your Dragon 2 might just be one of the greatest animated sequels I’ve ever seen. The world we only tasted in the first film balloons into it’s own expansive universe, not just the viking village of Berk. That’s what I think made this film so beautiful, as well as exhilarating and, at times, emotionally draining. As Hiccup physically maps out unexplored territory you get this feeling that you’re being pulled along for the ride. And it’s a roller coaster.

One last thing I’d like to touch on are two characters who I feel stood out. Hiccup, voiced by a seemingly socially-stunted Jay Baruchel, has matured both physically and emotionally (I mean, except for the loss of the lower half of his leg) and makes this apparent as he is set up to become chief of Berk once his father, Stoick the Vast (Gerard Butler), is gone. He struggles with this concept, saying to fiancee Astrid (American Ferrera), “You know exactly who you are. You always have. I'm still looking.” 

Last, Drago Bludvist. Oh boy. I’ve noticed that animators and voice actors sometimes have difficulty bringing to life a villainous character, whether it be the difficulty of expressing genuine malevolence, sociopathy, or whatever. This is not the case for Drago Bludvist. Every time his Geodude-esque physique appears onscreen, he completely steals the scene. Brought to menacing and psychopathic life by Djimon Hounsou, Bludvist’s gravelly voice, which almost has an air of illiteracy about it, sent chills down my spine almost every time he spoke. Hounsou’s voice acting is incredible and the character design is pretty much flawless, if they were going for a cross between Richard Sherman and Brock Lesnar. But hey, it works.

Someone left a Chia Pet on top of a fridge

See the movie if you haven’t already, especially if you a sucker for sequels. The film overall takes on a slightly darker, more mature tone, and explores more adult themes absent from its predecessor. 

The Lego Movie as Brand Storytelling

The Lego Movie as an Example of Brand Storytelling

The Lego Movie is a feature length animated film released in February 2014 by Warner Bros. Pictures. The movie was initially conceived as a standalone project but, due to its immense popularity after its release, will now have a sequel slated to be released in 2018. Also, the Lego Batman character, voiced by Will Arnett, is rumored to have his own spinoff film released in 2017. 

The film is set in a fictional Lego universe where everything and everyone are Lego characters or pieces but at the same time is just a Lego town that is part of our (human) universe. The movie tells the story of Emmett Brickowski, an everyman construction worker whose sole job is to build whatever the manual given to him says to build. Day in and day out, Emmett, his coworkers and every citizen in the Lego universe do things “by the book,” and are more than content with this daily routine. One day, Emmett meets a girl named Wyldestyle and is mistaken for a legendary figure, known as “The Special,” supposedly chosen to change the monotony Lego people are currently accustomed to. Emmett eventually learns to deviate from his “by the book” lifestyle and becomes a “master builder,” one of a select group of Lego characters who can build whatever they imagine, something all other Lego characters lack. To rid the universe of its dull, routine lifestyle Emmett and his friends must defeat Lord Business, the self-proclaimed leader of the Lego universe, who seeks to make the universe “perfect,” by coating everything with the “Kragl,” (a real life container of Krazy Glue that is missing letters on the label.) The story ends with Emmett realizing that his universe is just a construct built by “The Man Upstairs” (Will Ferrell) and his son who is responsible for creating the master builders. The Man Upstairs sees what his son has done and accepts that some things aren’t meant to be perfect and that imagination is what keeps driving people forward. This is the primary message that the film’s producers (and Lego) tried to manifest. 

When the movie was announced about a year before its release, both the producers and Lego knew that most audiences and consumers would think of it as just a 90-minute commercial for Lego. Director and writer Chris Miller and Phil Lord sought to change the way people would react to the film and market it as not just a commercial, but a visual manifestation of Lego’s vision and philosophy. Lego was a crucial part of the filmmaking process, even going so far as to have Lego designers from all over the world come in and brainstorm with the filmmakers about the look of the movie and the characters and surrounding environment. They would then physically build, say, the pirate ship that appears in the movie and see if it had the right look and feel for that scene. 

The Lego Movie is unique in the sense that it is a very blatant promotion for Lego and its product, but was executed so successfully and creatively that no one seemed to even care or notice. People view it as a standalone product that just so happens to feature one of the most popular toys in existence, and this is because Lego itself understands the power of its branded image and the legacy that image has cemented into countless childhoods. 

The film received critical acclaim from reviewers and audiences alike for its originality, creativity, and appeal to all age groups. It would be kind of a stretch for other brands, specifically toy brands, to recreate the kind of attention and original storytelling The Lego Movie produced. If there is one lesson that other big name brands could take away from the film, it’s to always stay understand and recognize your audience. Lego understands that their product is timeless and is a popular toy mainstay generation to generation and appeals to the child in all of us that needs to let their imagination soar. In short, Lego lets today’s children know that your imagination is limitless and reminds the older generations that “ideas inspire, products don’t.”

The Interview

Last week my roommate suggested we watch The Interview just to see what the hullabaloo was about. I said, “Sure.” After all, I have a Netflix account and they so generously decided to say “fuck it” when it came to the ridiculous amount of hype and controversy lingering around the movie. But in the back of my mind I knew it would fall short of our expectations. Friends who had already seen the movie described it as “meh”, or “okay”, or, “I guess it had some good parts.” Pretty much the same answers you’d get asking “How are Seattle’s wide receivers?” (I’m still waking up in cold sweats.)

At least you didn't have to watch this movie, Richard.

The story revolves around a celebrity gossip TV show host Dave Skylark (James Franco) and his producer and best friend Aaron Rapaport (Seth Rogen) as they are very believably granted the divine opportunity to interview the world’s most reclusive madman, North Korea’s Supreme Glorious Great Leader for Life Kim Jong-un. Aaron reluctantly agrees and soon the two are preparing for the interview of the century, but not before the U.S. government decides it can’t possibly pass up the chance to intervene. Sent in is CIA Agent Lacey (Lizzy Caplan) to brief “Frogen” about their plot to assassinate the leader of the not-so-free world.

I’ll stop my synopsis here because the rest is shit.

Seriously, the rest of the film is just a rehashing of a Frogen odd-yet-so-fitting couple story. The dialogue is weak, most happenings in the movie occur for the sole purpose of pushing the story along, and most of the characters are as relatable as your stepmom’s cousin’s twice-divorced brother. The only character I found at least mildly likable, and at times believable, was Caplan. I found myself furiously nodding in agreement with her frustration with Franco during the mission briefing. Rogen brings nothing new to the table character wise, he’s the lovable, mostly level-headed foil to the other central character’s blissful ignorance. The ignoramus I speak of is Franco’s Skylark. The sheer idiocy his character exudes during the painstakingly dull two-hour abortion of a movie exceeds human comprehension. 

I feel you, Liz.

Maybe that’s a bit harsh. I have seen worse movies. (I’ll get to The Room at some point.)

That being said, the incredible amount of press this film garnered in the midst of the Sony hacks scandal seems plausible considering the TERRORIST THREATS it generated prior to its release. But watching Frogen stumble through Kim’s palace, shove lethal poisons up their ass, and develop a romantic interest so out of left field that Ken Griffey Jr. would kneel and call it king  brings everything to an equilibrium. 

But maybe I’m being a bit harsh. After all this is a Frogen comedy and wasn't intended to be Oscar bait. Its just a cash grab jumping in on the “hate North Korea” circle jerk. Then again, the duo has produced and starred in some of the finest stoner comedies in recent memory with Pineapple Express and This Is The End. But that doesn’t excuse the apparent lack of effort that went into this film. No amount of Katy Perry references that this film generates, however funny, will redeem it as an enjoyable experience.