Bye-Bye to PARKS AND REC: The Last Great TV Comedy

PARKS AND RECREATION - Goodbye to the Last Great TV Comedy

- With tonight's series finale of Parks and Recreation, it truly is the end of an era. Parks is the last of its breed - the last broadcast network sitcom that tried to bring edgy, Millennial-friendly comedy to the mainstream. Parks is perhaps the most beloved low-rated sitcom ever - in the grand tradition of The Office, 30 Rock, and Community - all NBC shows that had increasingly small on-air audiences, even if their actual fanbases were much larger. Sure, there are some spiritual successors to Parks out there in TV land. Brooklyn Nine-Nine is the most obvious - it is, after all, from Parks and Rec's Michael Schur (along with Dan Goor). And that show has found solid ratings success on Sunday nights. The Goldbergs on ABC is another potential successor - a family sitcom that combines very traditional sitcom tropes with a surreal and subversive, pop-culture-obsessed streak. But mostly, the best comedy these days is on cable, where it is increasingly able to get weird and niche-y. I love the likes of Broad City, Nathan For You, and Garfunkel and Oates. But those shows are going for very specific audiences. In theory, Parks should have been the biggest comedy of the last ten years. It was jam-packed with a great cast of diverse characters, and had a ton of heart. Parks' humor was razor-sharp, but it was also unabashedly earnest and sweet. It wasn't about off-putting well-off LA one-percenters (hello, Modern Family). It was about hard-working small-town Americans. And in an age of political divisiveness and gridlock, Parks and Rec was a constant reminder of our potential to put aside our differences and work together towards a common goal. Like I said, the fact that this *wasn't* the #1-rated comedy on TV speaks to the reality that no comedy is mainstream anymore. With most shows, I get it. But Parks was so funny, so good, so heartfelt, so universal in its themes that you have to wonder if, upon its end, we'll ever see the likes of it again.

Parks and Rec didn't start out amazing. In a strangely similar fashion as its predecessor, The Office, Parks' first season got out of the gate wobbly. Amy Poehler's Leslie Knope was, well, sort of annoying. And the focus on her undermined the stellar supporting cast. But like The Office, Parks came into its own in Season 2. The show became more of an ensemble comedy, and what an ensemble it was. If the show were launching today, it would have the all-star cast of all-star casts. Amy Poehler, Nick Offerman, Chris Pratt, Aubrey Plaza, Rob Lowe, Rashida Jones, Aziz Ansari, Retta, Adam Scott ... and the list goes on.

I heard someone say that the characters on Parks were so perfect because it was as if each represented a certain part of our personality. We all have aspects of these characters inside of us. Leslie is the ambitious go-getter. Ron Swanson the stubborn iconoclast. Andy the big kid. April the sarcastic teenager. Ben the nerd, Tom the would-be player. Jerry/Larry/Gary the loser-dork. There's that, but what makes Parks' characters so fantastic is that, at the same time, none could be reduced to one-note cliches. Leslie was a go-getter, but also a devoted friend who put her BFF Anne above all else. Ron Swanson was a stoic man's man, but he also moonlighted (hilariously) as local jazz legend Duke Silver, and had a kryptonite-like weakness for his ex-wife Tammy. Andy and April seemed polar opposites, but both found joy in each other and became a delightfully oddball couple. Tom, it turned out, was a romantic at heart. Hell, even Jerry was revealed to have an insanely idyllic home life that completely contrasted with his sad-sack reputation in the workplace. Parks never shied away from contradictions and complexity - and showing how and why these characters worked so well together despite their differences.

My favorite example - the one that to me is the heart and soul of the show - is the relationship between Leslie and Ron. Vulture published an essay a few weeks ago about how Ron represented the last gasp of the old man's-man stereotype, how he was the last of a dying breed. I argued that the essay missed the point. What's so brilliant about the Ron Swanson character is that he has his very strong likes and dislikes - he's got a freaking "Pyramid of Success" - but he also was never beholden to outdated views if those views were ugly or mean-spirited. Sure, Ron Swanson doesn't like Europe or skim milk. But he also is a man who sort of transcends specific politics. He likes what he likes. But not because of any ulterior motive or agenda. And that means that when push comes to shove, he admires Leslie's drive and fire and friendship. It's why the "Ron and Leslie" episode in Parks' final season, in which the feuding pair is locked in a room together and forced to hash out their problems - is such a legitimate tearjerker. The show brilliantly led us to believe that the rift that had formed between Ron and Leslie during the two-year gap between Seasons 6 and 7 was about clashing politics. But the real reason behind it was heartbreakingly revealed to be Ron's feeling that his unlikely friend Leslie - wrapped up in her new job - had left him behind.

But even when Parks does have its characters disagree on politics, the disagreements have a purity to them that is inspiring. Ron and Leslie often have different philosophies on government - but again, those views come from a pure place. The political fights on Parks would often see Leslie and Ron united - because it wasn't about Democrat vs. Republican vs. Libertarian - Leslie's battles were about smarts vs. stupidity, integrity vs. shiftiness and hucksterism, community vs. homogenization, and sticking up for friends and family. It's no wonder then that Leslie and Ron were ultimately on the same side when push came to shove.

Aside from all that, from a sheer comedy perspective, Parks is a bar-setter. I don't know all of the behind-the-scenes people who made the show as sharp as it was. But what's amazing is how, over the years, I've discovered new comedy voices who were associated with the show. Sure, going in, comedy fans knew creators Greg Daniel and Michael Schur's bonafides. And we knew Amy Poehler from years on SNL and Aziz Ansari from his stand-up. But aside even from the breakout cast members like Aubrey Plaza and Chris Pratt, we've seen people like Megan Amram, a writer on the show, become a cult comedy favorite. And tragically, one of the show's Co-EP's - Harris Wittels - a guy who was by all accounts the show's go-to joke puncher-upper, and an emerging stand-up comedian and comedy writer - passed away last week. One only needs to look at Wittels' Twitter to see what an incredibly hilarious voice was lost. But his ability to nail jokes and joke construction - and just the overall talent of the writing staff - was evident on any given episode of Parks. Amazingly, the show is going out sharper than ever. This final season has been a veritable comedy master-class. Each episode is jam-packed with instant-classic quotes and perfectly-constructed jokes. The comedy has been able to swing from character humor to parody (as in the impressively unique Johnny Karate episode from last week), from pop-culture references to absurdism. And yet ... I (and suspect many of you) have been left misty-eyed by nearly every episode this season. To be that funny and that emotionally-involving is a rare feat for any show to pull off.

And that's why I say Parks and Rec might just be the last great comedy. There's something to be said for comedy that doesn't have to swing for the fences, that can just be what it wants to be and get as weird as it wants to. I love that stuff. But there's also something to be said for comedy that can be funny and smart and challenging, but also have the characters and heart and real-world relatability to ensure that there's something there for everyone. It's hard for me to imagine *anyone* giving Parks and Rec a try and not digging it. But increasingly, the Parks-esque shows are disappearing from the air. They're becoming watered down like Modern Family. Or going to Netflix (Tina Fey's upcoming Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt) or the web (Community's upcoming sixth season). And as that happens, comedy won't need to appeal to a broad audience anymore. There's a part of that that's cool, sure. But there's also something sad about the end of shows that unite us in laughter, just as the characters on Parks were united around their beloved town of Pawnee. That sense of community is evaporating - we're all separating off into our little tribes where our super-specific tastes are catered to with web series and podcasts. And in that environment, you have to wonder if any show will again be able to be a true national-conversation starter again. Parks was never that show, but it was to a lot of the people that mattered. People who were smart and funny liked Parks. Parks people were my people. And it was watched by the funniest comedians and most important politicians (everyone from the Obamas to Joe Biden to John McCain - who cameo'd multiple times - were fans). The ending of Parks and Recreation makes me sad - it's the end of a great TV show, but also sort of the end of an era for TV. But as long as the spirit of Leslie Knope lives on, as long as Ron Swanson's Pyramid of Greatness hangs on college dorms and office cubicles, as long as we still reference DJ Roomba and Burt Macklin: FBI and JJ's Diner and the Cones of Dunshire and Jean Ralphio and Perd Hapley, then Parks and Rec will *literally* live on forever in Lil' Sebastian-esque fashion.

So long Parks and Rec. It's been an amazing, legendary run.

GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY Is One Rocking Cosmic Comic Book Jam

 GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY Review:

- Here it is. What we've been waiting for. Now ... we get to the good stuff. I said it back when I reviewed Thor: The Dark World, but I'll repeat: Marvel is boldly going to some very weird places with its big-budget movies, and I'm lovin' it. Think about where we've come from. When this whole big-screen superhero renaissance started with movies like X-Men, the colorful comic book heroes of Marvel made it to cinemas in a whitewashed, scrubbed-up fashion. "Yellow spandex" was a punchline. Black leather was the order of the day. The characters were mostly intact, but the sci-fi grandeur and acid-trip visuals of Kirby and his ilk were all but gone. Now, slowly but surely, Marvel Studios has brought the weird and cosmic aspects of its comic book universe to its movies - and GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY is the apex of that evolution, a loud-and-proud color-burst of a movie that feels like a statement from Marvel: the Marvel universe has officially been cracked open, and there really are no more limits to what can happen in these movies.

The man who makes it all happen is director James Gunn. Just saying that is sort of weird and sort of awesome. Until recently I knew Gunn as an outside-the-system director of genre movies that were, by and large, insane. I saw an opening-weekend screening of his movie Super a few years ago, featuring a Q&A with Gunn. Super remains one of the strangest movies I've ever seen. And Gunn seemed like the kind of guy who'd perhaps be happiest doing these oddball, limits-pushing, low-budget movies filled with his usual cast of go-to actors. But here's the remarkable thing: GUARDIANS is very much a Marvel movie, but, no question, it's also a James Gunn movie through and through. The movie revels in its own weirdness, much like Super and also Slither. It features the oddball, oddly-perverse sense of humor that Gunn is known for. It's got his brother, Sean Gunn, appearing in a supporting role, as he always does in James Gunn films. It's got other Gunn regulars like Michael Rooker. Gunn's movies push boundaries and go to unexpected places, and this is no exception. This is rock n' roll filmmaking like we haven't see yet in the Marvel cinematic universe.

However, what keeps all of the cosmic craziness of the film grounded is the real humanity at its core. As out-there as things get, even the movie's strangest characters have surprising depth. At the center of it all is Chris Pratt as Peter Quill, aka Star-Lord. Quill is a classic, swashbuckling rogue in the grand tradition of Han Solo and the like - but Gunn (along with screenwriter Nicole Parlman) also give him a tragic backstory and a real warmth. Also credit the gifted Pratt for making Star-Lord into a character both empathetic and hilarious. Pratt - so good for years on Parks and Recreation - is a natural at this sort of action/comedy leading man role. The guy has the bravado for epic adventure, but also the dude-next-door affability that makes him easy to root for and care about. He nails it in this film.

I can't say enough about the rest of the film's eclectic cast. It's no major surprise that Zoe Saldana is fantastic as the traumatized adopted-against-her-will daughter of Thanos, Gamora. Saldana is now a multi-franchise sci-fi superstar, but Gamora is an interesting new twist on her usual badass persona - a woman hated and feared because of her father, out to prove that she is, in fact, nothing like him. Gamora is also the moral center of the movie's ragtag team - the only one who, from the outset, has an altruistic agenda. What is more of a surprise though is that wrestler Dave Bautista is actually really, really good here in a scene-stealing role as Drax the Destroyer, a muscled-up alien hellbent on revenge for his wife and child, killed at the hands of the power-mad Ronan. What is also a surprise is how a character that I assumed would be pretty awesome - Rocket Raccoon - is not just awesome, but also the emotional center of the movie. I would never have expected that the talking raccoon would have some of the movie's most emotionally-charged moments, but James Gunn and co. go all-in with the Bradley Cooper-voiced creature. Rocket rules, but he's much more than just comic relief. Same goes for talking tree-man Groot, elegantly voiced by Vin Diesel. Groot is funny and weird, but also the source of several moments of awe, wonder, and emotional resonance. Give both Cooper and Diesel some major, major props here for their voice work. Cooper is the lovable, fast-talking, Brooklyn-accented, chip-on-his-shoulder badass we all hoped and wanted Rocket to be. And Diesel pulls an Iron Giant with Groot, making the lumbering tree-creature somehow full of pathos.

I could go on an on about the cast. Michael Rooker is just great, in a distinctly Michael Rooker sort of way, as the blue-skinned alien outlaw Yondu. Yondu is a perfect example of how Gunn just flat-out embraces the craziest aspects of these characters and goes all-in. Yondu isn't *just* a badass blue alien who talks like a southern-fried redneck, you see. He's also got a deadly blowing-dart that he controls by whistling, which he can use to take out armies of enemies simply by whistling a tune. Holy $^&#, people ... James Gunn isn't messing around. That same wholesale embrace of comic book insanity is evident in the film's chief villain, Ronan The Accuser. Played by Lee Pace - of late the master of over-the-top genre movie grandstanding - Ronan is a straight-from-the-comics cosmic bad guy of epic proportions. There's a similarly otherworldly sheen to Karen Gillan's Nebula, another daughter of Thanos, whose metallic blue skin and cybernetic enhancements make her a truly alien creature. We caught a glimpse of Benicio Del Toro's enigmatic Collector at the end of Thor: The Dark World, and the character is yet another that is just plain nuts, in the best way possible. And of course, the mighty, mad titan Thanos lurks in the background of the film - menacingly voiced by Josh Brolin and looking straight out of a Jim Starlin-drawn comic book page - waiting to stake his claim as the Marvel Universe's most-wanted.

In fact, the comic book literalism in GUARDIANS is pretty crazy. There's a clear reverence for the architects of Marvel's weird and cosmic corners - Jack Kirby, Jim Starlin, etc. - and I don't know if I've ever seen a comic book adaptation that so faithfully reproduces the costumes and colors of its source material. As others have pointed out, the movie is not just visually jaw-dropping, but also bursting with color in a way that the dulled-out modern superhero movies have mostly avoided to date. Star-filled cosmos flooded with neon-colored splashes. Gleaming alien cities filled with colorful locales. Space-bars to rival the Mos Eisley cantina. A legion of Nova Corps agents wearing their trademark gladiator-helmets and Kirby-ringed uniforms, riding around in a battalion of starburst-shaped attack ships.

Gunn shoots the film in a classical manner that calls to mind 70's and 80's sci-fi films. The movie's action is fast and furious, but also well-staged, easy-to-follow, and impactful - littered with character moments both funny and poignant. The film's exotic alien locales are all unique and memorable and teeming with detail and motion and easter-eggs. And the movie's various depictions of the vast reaches of the cosmos are both awe-inspiring and fit for framing.

The film is also very funny. Sure, other Marvel movies have had quippy humor and self-referential gags, but GUARDIANS is the first true Marvel action/comedy. The movie's got a plethora of extended comedic scenes that go for big laughs. Comedy vet Chris Pratt anchors the humor with his great timing and delivery. And, despite its massive kid-appeal, Gunn sneaks in plenty of scandalous little moments that may go over the heads of the younger set, but that are guaranteed to get a chuckle from adults. But what's really remarkable is that the movie can switch gears and deliver epic action, romance, and space-opera - all while being very funny and light-on-its feet. In that way, it really is a throwback of sorts to the classic sci-fi cinema of the 70's and 80's. Action, humor, and moments that kids will later look back on and wonder "how did they get away with keeping *that* in there?".

The movie packs in so much that it does, inevitably, leave you wanting just a bit more. While an opening prologue nicely establishes some backstory for Quill, other characters' origins are often only briefly alluded to, left to be further fleshed-out in future sequels, tie-ins, etc. Certainly, I would have loved to have gotten some additional history around Gamora - to really get a sense for what her childhood must have been like under the thumb of Thanos, and what it was like to be raised alongside his other "children" like Nebula. There was also plenty of untold story with Rocket and Groot. Some mystery is good, but having just a bit more to chew on for the non-Star-Lord characters would have made things feel a bit more substantive. Same goes for chief villain Ronan. I know some of his background from the comics, but here he gets only minimal screentime to properly explain his sinister motivations.

Overall though, what James Gunn and his team have accomplished here is pretty remarkable. They've brought the Marvel cosmic universe to the big-screen, and they've taken characters and concepts that were long thought too weird for the mainstream and made them work - not by watering them down, but by going all-in and just fully embracing the awesome. For many months I've heard speculation that GUARDIANS would bomb, that Marvel movies worked because of a particular formula, and  that any deviation from that formula would spell box office disaster. But this is a new dawn, a world where weird is accepted and where comic book adaptations can let their freak flag fly high. It's funny, because in this film alone there are several concepts that have clear DC Comics analogues, that Marvel has now beat them to the punch in doing right on the big screen. As Marvel has done Thanos, DC could do Darkseid. As Marvel has done a pretty epic take on the Nova Corps, man, that's how DC could do Green Lantern. Seeing the visuals on Groot made me realize how cool a Swamp Thing film could be in 2014. And seeing Marvel embrace its comics' weirdest corners on the big-screen made me realize that there are no more limits. Because as a young comic book fan, sure, I loved the big heroes and the iconic stories, but most of all I loved the way that these comic book universes seemed to expand across all of space and time, filled with an endless collection of characters and concepts that ran the gamut of genres and artistic influences. With GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY, the Marvel cinematic universe now feels ever closer to the kind of place that made comics so cool to generations of readers. The kind of place where Steve Rogers can rub shoulders with The Hulk, who can pick a fight with Thanos, who can run afoul of the Kree empire, who might tangle with Spider-Man, who might just share an adventure with Howard the Duck. The beauty of these organic fictional worlds is that anything is possible. And GUARDIANS - complete with an off-the-wall end-tag that serves as a sort of exclamation point for this idea - confirms that this is now true of the movie-verse as well.

It's fitting then that the iconic object of GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY turns out to be Peter Quill's mix-tape cassette - a memento from his mother - that provides the soundtrack for his adventures, and for much of the film. The tape jumps from "Hooked on a Feeling" to "Cherry Bomb," a diverse playlist of pop  favorites that somehow adds up to Peter Quill, in miniature. So too is the film an anything-goes mix-tape of pop-art - a color-soaked genre mash-up that evokes the same anything-goes spirit of the comics it adapts. Those books were rock n' roll. This movie is rock n' roll. And it delivers one awesomely groovy space-jam.

My Grade: A-

THE LEGO MOVIE Is a Triumphant, Imaginative, Surprisingly Deep Meta-Adventure

THE LEGO MOVIE Review:

- How did this happen? I don't think anyone anticipated that THE LEGO MOVIE would turn out not just to be an instant-classic animated movie, but one of the most fun family films in years. And yet, thanks to a funny, fantastic script, eye-popping animation, and an all-star voice cast, this film defied the odds and is not just better than it had any right to be, but a great film by any measure.

THE LEGO MOVIE comes to us from the team of Phil Lord and Christopher Miller, who have brought humor and heart to movies as diverse as the animated Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs and the recent, raunchy, 21 Jump Street reboot. These guys are good - very good - at what they do. And they help to ensure that The Lego Movie is visually dynamic, but also incredibly clever and smart.

The genius originates from the script by Lord, Miller, and Dan and Kevin Hageman. I can't stress enough: the script to this film is flat-out brilliant. The way that it dispenses critical information in a way that's completely economical - but also super-imaginative and super-funny - is worthy of the highest praise. I could go on and on, but I'll talk for a second about the movie's fantastic premise ...

The script imagines a Lego world that has become a sort of mass-delusional authoritarian dystopia, in which the rank-and-file workers have been brainwashed into a sort of gleeful delirium. All of these little yellow Lego people live their lives per their designated instructions - never deviating from the rules that dictate every aspect of their existence. The populace is lorded over by President Business (voiced by Will Ferrell), who poses as a benevolent leader, but who is secretly Lord Business - a scheming, evil mastermind whose ultimate goal is to impose total order to every Lego land, eliminating all individuality, randomness, chaos, and creativity. When a regular-joe builder named Emmett (Chris Pratt) deviates from his usual rule-regulated routine, his eyes begin to open to the oppressive nature of his world. He's taken in by rebellious, rainbow-haired Wyldstyle (Elizabeth Banks), who believes that he might just be the Chosen One prophesied by rebel leader Vitruvius  (Morgan Freeman). Joined by a motley crew of freedom fighters, Emmett and company formulate a plan to end the tyrannical reign of Lord Business and bring individuality and creativity back to their world.

What takes the story to another level is how well the script both plays with the well-worn tropes of the classic "chosen one vs. evil empire" story. The film is super aware not just of itself, but of the pop-culture multiverse from which it draws inspiration. This manifests not just on a meta level, but on a really fun surface level. We get a Lego world where Emmett and Wyldstyle exist alongside the likes of Batman (she's dating him), Gandalf, Dumbledore, Han Solo, Shaquille O'Neal, and many, many more. There hasn't been this sort of gloriously crazed pop-culture character mash-up since the days of Who Framed Roger Rabbit.

But again, the film isn't just satisfied to have these characters cameo. This version of Batman, for example - hilariously voiced by Will Arnett - is a brilliant parody of what Batman has become in pop-culture in recent years - an uberconfident, all-powerful guy who's actually sort of a jerk. While Batman is the most prominent pop-cult character in the film, every appearance is utilized for maximum effect. The Star Wars cameos absolutely kill. The other superheroes that pop-up? Hilarious.

But really, the heart and soul of the film is Emmett. And man, Chris Pratt just nails it - bringing the same sort of lovable charm he shows each week as Andy on Parks and Recreation. But again, what makes Emmett so great is that he's *not* just a Luke Sywalker clone. Despite being hailed as a chosen one, Emmett never loses his averageness, his goofiness, or his dogged and legitimate love for following instructions. THE LEGO MOVIE, in that respect, never devolves into cliche. The movie is always one step ahead, and instead of Emmett having to step up and embrace some previously-unfathomable destiny, he instead realizes that he's got all the tools he needs to make a difference - he just needs to cleverly apply them to the situation at hand.

What's remarkable is that Emmett, Wyldstyle, Lord Business, and the other main characters of the film have remarkable dimension. Even side characters like Liam Neeson's Bad Cop/Good Cop, or Charlie Day's Benny the 80's Spaceman have unexpected depth.

The movie puts character first, but it also takes on some really big, really heady stuff. The opening scene of the film is a brilliant montage, showing us the preternaturally-happy residents of the Lego world, cheerfully singing the "Everything Is Awesome" song and going about their daily routines. But everything feels artificial and forced, and the characters act so unquestioningly and obediently that their is the unmistakable scent of dystopia in the air. Of course, this is all a very, very sly take on our world, the real world. In one brilliant opening sequence, these cartoon characters have completely and brilliantly skewered our oft-times conformist, consumerist culture. And not only that, but they've dissected that intangible sense of creativity and freedom that is inherent in children, but lost in adults. It's the creativity that makes playing with toys like Legos a joy, and it's that same creativity that Lord Business - the quintessential "adult" of this world - is intent on eliminating.

And man, the movie does a great job of getting at these big, satirical, philosophical issues early on. But later, the film flips the switch and goes somewhere very unexpected: the real world. Now, this could have been a huge mistake if handled indelicately. But when THE LEGO MOVIE suddenly morphs into live-action, and we see the human embodiment of Lord Business - Will Ferrell - as not an evil, power-mad dictator, but as a regular (if slightly OCD) dad ... well, it's then that the film introduces a very real, emotional element to the plotline. The emotional stakes of the movie are driven home: Emmett and Wyldstyle's quest is that of all of us: to hold on to our childlike impulses and creativity and individuality in the adult world. And Lord Business is the at-times well-meaning, but ultimately oppressive force of adulthood, of consumerism, of conformity. Holy $%&# - THE LEGO MOVIE isn't messing around, people.

THE LEGO MOVIE can be watched and enjoyed completely at a surface level. It's got whiz-bang action scenes, colorful characters, rapid-fire and insanely clever jokes, and more pop-culture references and parodies that you can shake a stick at (I haven't even touched on how cool the animation is - looking sleek and shiny yet also capturing an almost stop-motion feel that perfectly fits the  That winning combo alone would make it one hell of an enjoyable animated film. But beyond that, there is some seriously smart stuff going on in this film. It's a movie that on a micro level looks at how people play with Legos, but on a macro level looks at how we change from children to adults and what we lose in the process. It tells that story and addresses such weighty themes with surprising clarity of purpose and emotional depth. The same kind of pangs you might have felt while watching the Toy Story films are very much present here. Everyone and anyone who was ever, once, a kid playing with Legos will feel an instant sense of recognition while watching this film. And yes, some of that will be surface level - nostalgia for 80's spaceman Legos, etc. But some will come about in those real-world scenes between a father and son, scenes that pit an adult's need for order and logic against a kid's desire for wonderment and imagination and no-limits.

The fact that the movie works on so many levels is a pretty amazing and impressive triumph. I guess it's sort of embodied and encapsulated by the "Everything Is Awesome" song. One one level: uber-catchy pop song. On another level, early in the film: an oppressive hive-mind slave-song - the self-medicated, self-delusional cry of the worker bee. And finally, by the film's end, it morphs into a triumphant rallying cry - a reassurance that everything can and will be okay, even if it's imperfect and unpredictable and chaotic.

And yeah, all of this is in - of all things - The Lego Movie - which might just be the best animated film of the last few years. Who would ever have predicted that?

My Grade: A-

HER is a Romantic-Comedy-Sci-Fi Stunner

HER Review:

- In the wrong hands, HER could very easily have been a major bust. The premise - in the near future, a lonely man falls in love with his computer's operating system - is both fascinating but also rife with potential to go very wrong, if not handled with care. That, I think, is what's so astonishing about Spike Jonze's film: he never goes where you think he's going to go, never takes the easy or obvious route, and crafts a funny, humanistic story that surprises with its nuance and intelligence. This is, quite simply, a masterfully done film - a surprisingly cerebral sci-fi film that's also a romantic comedy. What's more, HER is one of those rare films that manages to say something profound about the way we live our lives today, all while managing not to hit you over the head with its themes. Jonze seems less set on making a definitive statement about what's right or wrong with the film's unusual central relationship. Instead, he's interested in simply examining it - trying to figure out, in his own head, how this all works, and what that says about us in a world that is not all that far removed from the film's future. To go along with Jonze on that journey is to experience one of the great films of 2013.

HER is set in the not-too-distant future. Our protagonist is Theodore (Joaquin Phoenix). Theodore is a gifted writer, who works at a company that creates and sends faux hand-crafted love letters - a sort of novelty gift, like a more elaborate Hallmark greeting card. Theodore's job is an odd one: he dictates meticulously-composed prose to create these highly-personal seeming letters, but the whole thing is a fiction, a rouse. The feeling of loneliness that such a job would seem to foster is doubly apparent with Theodore - he's recently split from his wife, Catherine (Rooney Mara), but still holds off on making the divorce official, unable to fully let go. Unable to shake thoughts of Catherine, he lives a mostly antisocial life, content to play videogames and stay in, reluctant to date or put himself out there. However, Theodore's life unexpectedly changes when, one day, he updates his computer operating system via a popular new OS update. It's a seemingly mundane thing, but Theodore quickly realizes that this new OS is something else, something unique. With an uncannily human-sounding female voice (Scarlett Johansson) - that speaks to Theodore through various devices and earpieces - the OS dubs itself Samantha, and begins a shockingly fast evolution from simple machine to complex being, capable of real emotion and feeling. At least, it seems real. As Theodore becomes closer and closer to Samantha - thinking of her, over time, as a person, a friend, a lover - he, and we, begin to wonder whether Samantha is truly, essentially, human ... or merely a very sophisticated simulation - a clever illusion designed to sucker in lonely guys like Theodore.

Jonze doesn't just present Samantha as a bit of magical movie-fantasy. To his credit, he really considers her evolution from all angles, and there's a surprising amount of science behind the fiction. What I found really fascinating was the idea that Theodore's relationship with Samantha wasn't unique - he's not just some nutty guy who falls in love with a computer. No, the movie's most brilliant twist might be that this new OS becomes a phenomena, and all over, people begin "dating" or befriending their OS's. And so, thanks to some very crafty plotting, HER becomes about more than just one man's eccentricities, but about something that affects everyone, alters the world at large. The movie morphs into a very eerily accurate extension of the way we live now - glued to our phones and tablets and increasingly shutting off the real world in favor of the digital one. Jonze builds this world so smartly and cleverly that you can't help but be enthralled. What's even better is that Theodore's relationship with Samantha is only the beginning, as Jonze isn't content to end things where you suspect they might end. No, Jonze keeps pushing the story and pushing the world of the movie to see how far he can take things, to what logical extensions of the plot he can get to. And man, that's fun to watch unfold. How rare is it in film to see things push past the usual third-act finale and go even deeper and farther? To me, part of what elevates HER to greatness is that it just keeps defying expectation. It left me constantly confused and delighted as to where it was going and how it would get there.

The other pretty incredible thing about this film is its triple-threat acting combo of Joaquin Phoenix, Scarlett Johansson, and Amy Adams (who appears in a somewhat small but absolutely crucial role as Theodore's geeky friend and confidante Amy). 

Phoenix has been on a tear of late. Even though I had some issues with The Master, I was floored by his work in it, and he's almost as good here. Phoenix plays the part of Theodore in a manner that feels completely raw and exposed. Theodore is sort of a sad sack in some ways, but he's also very human, very real-seeming, and very empathetic. What's remarkable is that Phoenix gives just the right mix of skepticism and wonderment with regards to Samantha. This is a guy who, on one level, is lonely and wounded and ripe to find solace in an artificial intelligence that essentially evolves to be his perfect (albeit non-corporeal) woman. But on another level, there is an awareness that what he's getting into is strange and in many ways unnatural. Phoenix's Theodore approaches his relationship with Samantha with a similar mix of optimism and doubt that we, today, might approach online dating or long-distance relationships. Phoenix sells it wholly and completely. 

As for Johansson ... going in, I found it hard to believe that a performance as a disembodied voice could truly be Oscar-worthy. But - holy crap - this is an absolutely incredible, very much Oscar-worthy performance from ScarJo, even despite the fact that she never actually appears on screen in any way, shape, or form. She kills it as Samantha, believably evolving her digital persona from human-like to almost-fully-human in a way that's both remarkable and slightly scary. Again, it's amazing just how much we come to buy into the Theodore-Samantha relationship. What seems potentially silly on paper feels genuine, in large part because of how well Johansson makes us believe in this disembodied voice as a real being - not quite human, but naive and curious about the world in a way that's endearing, at times heartbreaking. Samantha's voice is the key to making this movie work, and Scarlett's performance is totally convincing.

Seeing Amy Adams in HER is sort of amazing if you've also recently seen her fantastic performance in American Hustle. There, she's a glamorous, scheming con-artist. Here, she's a mousy, slightly awkward videogame developer. Her character, Amy, is an old friend of Theodore's from college, and she's stuck in a relationship with a stuffy guy who doesn't take an interest in her creative ambitions. Amy - in her own way lonely and struggling - is a fascinating counterpoint to Theodore. I won't spoil the ways in which Amy's story ends up paralleling and intertwining with Theodore's, but again, Jonze never hits you over the head with obvious developments. The way that Adams makes Amy into this vulnerable, and again, all-too-human and relatable character is another reason why the movie succeeds beyond expectation.

There are some other excellent turns in the film. One standout is Rooney Mara, as Theodore's ex - a woman who Theodore remembers as happy and vibrant, but who, over time, grew colder and more distant. Another is Chris Pratt, as Theodore's jovial co-worker who is probably the movie's least-quirky character. Having a more alpha-male character like Pratt's around is another subtle stroke of genius. It gives us yet another perspective on how the wider world might view an OS like Samantha. In a lesser movie, Pratt would probably have just played the bully who beats up on Theodore. But his character here is actually Theodore's buddy, and their dynamic is a lot of fun.

HER blends humor, romance, and sci-fi more seamlessly than it's got any right to. There are a lot of really funny moments in the film, like the scenes where we check in on the motion-controlled videogame that sucks up Theodore's time, in which his avatar is led around by a foul-mouthed cartoon character. The movie is also, legitimately, one of the best romances I've seen on film. Like I said, there's a realness and rawness to the Theodore-Samantha relationship that you don't see captured on screen in most stories about two actual people. Finally, the world of this film is just so well thought-out, from fashions (high-waisted pants are in) to tech (pocket-watch style smart phones). I don't think HER was quite sold as a sci-fi film, but it really is. Shot in LA and Shanghai, Jonze creates a fascinating near-future cityscape that is, truly, a reflection of the world we live in now.

I've tried to be relatively careful with how I talk about this film, because there are so many great little moments that I didn't see coming, but that make for some excellent and thought-provoking post-movie discussion. HER is a film that hits your head and your heart. Its pacing is at times a bit methodical, but soon enough I was absorbed in its narrative, and just when I was sure I knew where and how it would end, a new twist came along that reshaped the whole film. What Jonze has accomplished here is right up there with his other great directorial efforts like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind - like that one, this is a film that will provoke discussion for many years to come.

My Grade: A