NOW YOU SEE ME Is Anything But Magical

NOW YOU SEE ME Review:

- I had a good feeling about NOW YOU SEE ME. It felt like one of those under-the-radar summer sleepers that might steal some thunder from some of the more high-profile releases. Sure, it didn't have superheroes or Vin Diesel, but it had reliable vets (and Dark Knight cast members) like Morgan Freeman and Michael Caine, exciting newcomers like Jesse Eisenberg and Melanie Laurent, The Hulk (aka Mark Ruffalo), and hey, it was about magic to boot. I know they say magic is box-office poison (as Steve Carell and Jim Carey can attest), but hey, who doesn't love a good movie about magicians - especially when said magicians use their magic to solve and/or perpetrate crimes? Apparently, many people had the same hunch about this movie I did, because it was in fact a sleeper hit at the box office, making many more millions than originally projected.

That's all well and good, but there's one major problem: the movie itself is a mess. I went in with high hopes, and came out frustrated and annoyed at all the squandered potential. Like I said, the movie's got magic, an all-star cast, and hey, I even count myself a fan of director Louis Leterrier (loved the first Transporter, thought The Incredible Hulk was underrated, and thought Clash of the Titans had some great visuals marred by a flat script). So what happened? First and foremost, I blame a lot of the movie's faults on a weak and totally nonsensical script.

The movie's plot hints at something very ambitious, but none of it adds up to anything. The basic story is this: four magicians, each with a different magical specialty, are brought together by a mysterious, unseen benefactor, and convinced to join forces as a sort of all-star magic act known as The Four Horsemen (a poor choice of name - not only because the group is supposed to be inspiring, but hey, it's a name that's sort of been used once or twice already, ya' know?). The Horsemen are, on the surface, an assemblage of high-profile magicians who perform together. But their act - which includes magical stunts like robbing banks from afar - is not just for show. In fact, they are *actually* robbing banks and stealing money, though their magical methods make it hard for the police to pin any crimes on them. Meanwhile, the Horsemen's crimes have a Robin Hood-esque populist slant - stealing from the rich, giving to the poor, etc. - and they become heroes to the 99%, even as they officially become outlaws.

The magicians are the best thing about the movie. For one, it's fun to see how each one has a different, superhero-esque talent. Jesse Eisenberg's J. Daniel Atlas is a street magician with bad attitude to spare. Isla Fischer's Henley is a stage performer specializing in daring escapes, with a major flair for theatrics. Woody Harrelson's Merrit is a shifty hypnotist, not above using his craft to make a quick buck. And Dave Franco is a drifter who specializes in sleight of hand. All four of these actors do a nice job, and it's fun to see them interact - Eisenberg and Fischer as the bickering ex-partners, Harrelson as the shady uncle of the group, and Franco as the punk kid who is more talented than he knows.

But for some reason, the movie severely limits their screen time. Instead, the should-be main characters of the film are given the short shrift in favor of those pursuing them - Ruffalo's Vegas cop Rhodes, and Laurent's Interpol agent Alma Dray. A huge chunk of the movie centers on their investigation, and its easily the most bland and boring part of the movie. Their scenes have a dulling sense of repetition, not helped by an elder-statesman magician played by Morgan Freeman who acts as their adviser on all things magic. While it's always nice to see Freeman, his role here amounts to a lot of smarter-than-thou lecturing, a lot of scolding Ruffalo for not understanding magic, magicians, etc. It gets old, especially when we'd rather be spending time with the Horsemen.

As for Ruffalo, I hate to say it, but he seems to be phoning this one in a bit. He's all passive-aggressive smiles and clenched jaws, constantly acting like the worst cop ever. Meaning, because he's written as a character who hates magic, has no time for childish things, etc., that is made to carry over into his investigation of a criminal case. But instead of just sitting down and talking to Freeman and getting info on his suspects, it's just him constantly whining about hating magic. To add one more layer to the character's annoying-factor, he has the most forced romantic tension with Laurent's Alma ever. The characters seem to basically dislike each other throughout the entire movie, except, you know, when they're actually in love and stuff. Because they are two cops working a case at odds with each other (Laurent is all into magic), so, of course, they must secretly be in love.

And since we spend so little time with the Horsemen, we really have little clue into what the hell they're doing. Like I said, there seems to be a Robin Hood-meets-Banksy element to their crimes - populism meets performance art - but why exactly they're doing what they're doing, or what their end game is, we don't quite know. The movie uses the fact that they're acting out the wishes of their hidden benefactor as an excuse to keep things vague. But the payoff the mystery is so weak that it doesn't do anything to absolve the movie's copious story and character issues. I'll just say that the absurdity reaches its peak in the final act, as the Horsemen prepare to pull off their final heist, all while eluding Ruffalo and a battalion of cops. The entire sequence is so vague and murky. What are the Horsemen trying to pull off? Why? Why are huge crowds gathered to see them perform a grand trick that essentially amounts to a big light show? It's the epitomy of anticlimax. There is a lot of ambiguous talk about the Horsemen wanting to "bring magic back into the world" and whatnot, but what that means in the context of the movie, I have no idea.

But here's the thing: the movie compounds its problems by centering itself around the central mystery of the benefactor's identity - all so it can close out with a huge twist ending. No spoilers here - just a warning that, to me at least, it's one of the lamest and cheapest twist endings I've seen in a movie in a while - the kind that basically INVALIDATES THE ENTIRE MOVIE IN RETROSPECT. Given the big ending reveal, so much of what happened in the rest of the movie no longer makes sense that it hurts my head to think about it. Worse, the explanation of the twist is so silly and unworthy ... just prepare your hand, because you will be face-palming yourself upon hearing it.

One other thing I'll say about the movie - it's about stage magicians, and it does try to respect the craft of magic and illusion. Some of the more interesting parts of the movie are when we go behind-the-scenes of the various illusions we see performed. But, the movie also has a supernatural element to it that is pretty absurd. Full disclosure: I am a total sucker for stories about stage magic vs. "real" magic and the intersection of the two. But since 95% of this movie is trying to be a semi-grounded heist movie that explains the reality behind its illusions, the 5% of it that deals with "real", legit, mystical magic feels totally out-of-left-field and groan-worthy.

As for Leterrier, he gives the movie some kinetic flair, but predictably, he excels with the scenes that are *supposed* to feel big and epic and crazy, but seems a bit lost with the smaller-scale stuff. I think Leterrier's penchant for big, epic action actually hurts the movie in some ways, because a lot of the movie is shot as if we were watching The Avengers, when in fact nothing all that amazing is happening on screen. Like, that final trick of the Horsemen - it's shot with sweeping cameras, plunging angles, a huge sense of scale - all for a scene in which nothing all that huge is happening. There's definitely a bit of a disconnect. The one sequence where everything comes together like magic (yep, I went there), is an awesomely-staged fight scene between Ruffalo and Franco, in which Franco counters his opponent's size advantage with a furious flurry of magic-based offense, including Gambit-style card-throwing and evasive, now-you-see-me, now-you-don't illusions. It's the one sequence in the movie that seems to perfectly pair Leterrier's talents with the material.

On the other hand, the entire movie is, undoubtedly, elevated by its cast. There are scenes that are just plain fun to watch, because you get to see Morgan Freeman and Michael Caine snipe at each other in a battle of the awesome old dudes, or because Dave Franco and Jesse Eisenberg get to tag-team as a pair of underestimate-'em-at-your-own-peril underdogs, or because Woody Harrelson is so fun and funny trying to blatantly hit on a not-having-it Isla Fischer. The cast makes the movie watchable and breezily entertaining even when it probably shouldn't be.

However, the great cast, combined with the movie's fun subject matter and glimpses of potential, make its failure to hit a home run that much more frustrating. Even when certain scenes work well, the overall structure of the movie - hinging on a big twist, focusing on the cops rather than the magicians - is so broken that a few cool scenes can't salvage it. It adds up to a movie that tries hard to feel smart and clever, but ends up feeling sort of dumb. It might make you wish you had just re-watched The Prestige.

My Grade: C

FAST & FURIOUS 6 Delivers Bone-Crunching, Hyperactive Action

FAST & FURIOUS 6 Review:

- I had lost interest in the Fast & Furious movies, until Fast 5 came along and reinvented the series as a sort of street-level Avengers, with an emphasis on huge action, larger-than-life personalities, and a sense of humor that had been missing from the far-too-self-serious series for most of its lifespan. Fast 5 was dumb but well-choreographed fun, and led by walking comic book heroes Vin Diesel and The Rock, it felt like a hi-octane throwback to the muscled-up action flicks of the 80's. The sixth film in the series builds on Part 5's formula, but amps things up to almost absurd levels, cutting furiously from scene to scene in a blatant attempt to capture and keep the attention of a generation off ADD-addled gamers. The movie wastes little time getting from Point A to B, and its plot is basically an excuse to get its cast involved in some heavy-metal action scenes. What's refreshing is that, like the actionfests of old, Furious 6 has no pretensions of being anything other than a popcorn smash-'em-up. So if you check your cerebral cortex at the door and go in looking for some over-the-top thrills, you'll likely come away satisfied.

Amazingly, six movies in, and the Fast & Furious franchise now has its own semi-dense mythology that may have you checking Wikipedia, trying to figure out what happened in which movie, and how it all fits together. So while plot may not be of the utmost priority in this film, it does throw out a lot of references to the older films. Old characters are brought back, and fans even finally learn when, exactly, the infamously mysterious Tokyo Drift falls into the franchise timeline. But really, all you need to know is this: Hobbs (Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson) the hulking Interpol agent from the last movie, is chasing a slick, would-be master criminal named Shaw (Luke Evans) and his gang, to prevent them from stealing and selling off an advanced weapon. To do so, he tracks down and recruits Dom (Vin Diesel) and his semi-retired gang. Dom and Brian (Paul Walker) are keeping a low profile in Brazil. Brian and his wife/Dom's sister (Jordana Brewster) have a young son, and both he and Dom claim they are done living on the edge. But just when they think they've gotten out ... along comes The Rock to pull them back in. Hobb's ace in the hole is his intel regarding Dom's old flame, Letty (Michelle Rodriguez). Even though she died pretty definitively in one of the previous movies, well ... she didn't. Hobbs promises to give Dom the still-alive Letty on a silver platter ... if he and his crew help take down Shaw. And so it begins.

So basically, weirdly complex mythology aside, this is a "getting the gang back together" movie, and an excuse to both pay homage to the series' past, and take it to an even more extreme place than it's ever been. You've got to give director Justin Lin credit - he knows how to stage big action that is hyperactive yet impactful. He also knows how to make his actors seem appropriately larger than life. In the last movie, when Vin Diesel and The Rock fought, it felt like a true clash of titans. In this movie, we get similarly scintillating smackdowns, including the battle of the badgirls - Michelle Rodriguez vs. MMA star-turned-actress Gina Carrano. What makes the action in the movie work so well is that it all feels legitimately bone-crunching. Unlike so many CGI-fueled summer blockbusters, Lin seems to place a high value on good old-fashioned stunt choreography. He's got legit bruisers like Johnson and Carrano in the cast, and the way he stages a lot of  the hi-octane action is decidedly old-school. Yes, many of the big set pieces are almost absurdly over-the-top (the grand finale, in which Dom's crew tries to stop a large plane from taking off, apparently takes place on the world's longest runway). But despite the craziness and fast pace, there's a tangibility to the action that a lot of movie's lack. And when you've got human action figures like The Rock, Vin Diesel, Michelle Rodrigeuez, and Gina Carrano driving the action, the movie possesses the gleefully childlike quality of a kid playing with action figures. Someone should really give Justin Lin a crack at an Expendables movie.

The movie seems to have some idea of its own absurdity, which makes the film a lot easier to swallow, and a lot more entertaining than older entries in the series. The dialogue is suitably big and bold, and even when the story gets ridiculous, you can't help but smile at the ridiculousness.

Still, there are plenty of moments that are not-so-fun and that drag the movie down. Paul Walker is still sort of useless, for example. The movie sends him off on his own little side mission to track down the truth about Letty's survival, and these scenes are all pretty lame. Not only is the secret of Letty's non-death not-that-exciting, but it sets up an eye-rolling amnesia scenario that - while leading to one good scene between Diesel and Rodriguez - ultimately takes the story into some pretty strange and unsatisfying places. Meanwhile, the movie is at its most entertaining when it's being deliberately campy, but, when it goes for legit laughs, it tends to fall flat. A lot of the movie's overt comic relief comes from Ludacris' Tej and Tyrese Gibson's Roman - meant to be a comedic duo of sorts. But these guys don't add much to the movie other than one or two decent one-liners.

I also wish that Shaw was a better villain. Luke Evans seems to have the right chops to play a truly memorable, sadistic baddie. And he absolutely nails most of his big scenes in the movie. Problem is, he is forced to play a completely generic bad guy. Sure, there are hints that he is some sort of nihilistic sadist, but really, we don't know much beyond he's bad. What is his plan, exactly? For most of the film, he's just sort of there, scheming and wreaking havoc, but he just seems to sort of appear whenever it's convenient.

Which partly gets at the larger problem here - the movie moves at such a fast clip that plot points, characters, and locations barely get a chance to make an impact. Rarely have I seen a movie with so many helicopter-cam establishing shots of exotic locales in the space of two hours. We dash from place to place, scene to scene, so fast that it's all a blur by the end.

For what these movies are, that's mostly okay. Going forward, yes, I'd like to see better villains, a more well thought-out plot, and a narrative that slows down just enough so that "fast and furious" doesn't literally describe every scene of the movie. But this is dumb fun that's not trying to be anything but - a showcase for some of the most entertaining action stars out there to do their thing and partake in some meaty, rollicking action. By the time the movie ends - setting up a great cliffhanger for a Part 7 (!), in which one more iconic action hero is thrown into the mix - I was left in a sort of giddy state of brain-fried satisfaction. Maybe it's the simple realization that, hey, a movie about a gang of criminal street racers - only semi-interesting  ... but a movie about a gang of criminal street racers trying to save the world from crazy uber-villains? Much more interesting, and a concept with nearly infinite shelf-life. As long as a world-weary Vin Diesel is leading the charge, I'm in.

My Grade: B

FRANCES HA Is Woody Allen for Gen Y

FRANCES HA Review:

- The new film from writer/directory Noah Baumbach, FRANCES HA mixes Woody Allen-esque slice-of-life neuroses-filled character study with a bit of modern-day rock n' roll. It's a beautifully-shot, often-times hilarious portrayal of late twenty-something life in the city, and it gets at some stark truths that any member of Gen Y can probably relate to, at least a little. It also features a winning performance from indie queen Greta Gerwig (who also co-wrote the film with Baumbach) as the title character. Gerwig is one of the most fascinating actresses out there - a wildly expressive, boundlessly quirky young woman who is not quite like anyone else making movies these days. Frances Ha is a total showpiece for Gerwig's unique talents and sensibility, and while some may not be onboard the bandwagon, I count myself a fan, and think she's never been better than here.

The movie tells the story of Frances, a 27-year-old aspiring dancer, living in New York City, trying to follow her dreams. Frances - a free spirit and a would-be intellectual, is trying to hold on to her dance dream while coming to terms with the reality that she's getting older, can't pay the bills, and, as one of her friends bluntly puts it, doesn't have her $#%& together. Like I said, many of us can, in some ways, probably relate. Throughout the course of the movie, we see how Frances' relationship with her best friend and roommate, Sophie, evolves. Sophie - the more practical and determined-to-grow-up of the two - tries to climb the social ladder and find a guy who will support her and give her the more glamorous, globe-trotting lifestyle she thinks she wants. Sophie's ambition creates a rift with Frances, even as Frances moves in with a bunch of trust-fund slackers who claim to be writers and artists, but who are really just living off their parents' money while working on sample SNL sketches and scripts for "Gremlins 3." (as someone who has lived in LA for eight years now, it's a type that is sadly all too familiar). But Frances, a type who stumbles her way from bad decision to bad decision, tries in her own way to keep up with the Joneses. She uses money she doesn't have to go on a hilariously poorly-planned trip to Paris, just to impress her friends and up her own feeling of self-worth. She refuses sensible jobs in order to stay on as a back-up for a dance troupe that clearly doesn't want her. She puts off being productive in favor of all-day movie marathons on the couch with her roomies.

On the surface, this might sound like the kind of self-involved character study that makes similar-ish efforts feel off-putting and lacking perspective (first season of HBO's Girls, anyone?). But Baumbach and Gerwig have a perspective and a self-awareness that's refreshing. In fact, I'd call it a major improvement from Baumbach's similar effort, Greenberg, which got a bit too caught up in its main character's own self-involvement, lacking awareness of his inherent unlikability. But what I like about FRANCES HA is that in many ways, the joke is on Frances. And because of that, we end up feeling sorry for her, empathizing with her, and rooting for her - because the movie is fully aware that she is a character who's essentially well-meaning, yet does a lot of dumb things. The movie freely admits that she doesn't have her $%&% together. At the same time, the movie perfectly captures the aimlessness and growing sense of dread that is the quarter-life crisis. Especially in this world of Facebook, blogs, etc., the pressure to do as well as, and to grow up at the same rate your peers, is uber-amplified. Whether real or perceived, it's hard to find your own way in a world in which everyone else seems to always be doing something really awesome at any given moment. Frances Ha does a great job of expressing that vibe of possibility mixed with dread. And Gerwig's Frances - the proverbial manic pixie dream girl, but clipped of her wings and brought down to earth - is the perfect vehicle to convey the movie's themes. In general, what separates this movie from other films and TV shows that look at young-adult-in-the-big-city life is that it is frank, and honest, about things like class, money, nepotism, etc.

Don't think that this is some ultra-serious downer of a movie though. It's very funny, with some wry observational humor, but also some broader/quirkier moments, like Frances having to make a desperate run across NYC to find an ATM while on a date.

It's also a very rock n' roll movie. Baumbach cuts some truly badass montages of city life and of Frances' journey, set to a grooving soundtrack of perfectly-chosen tunes. One song, Hot Chocolate's "Every 1's a Winner" struck me so much, with its disco-era guitar licks and driving beats, that I immediately downloaded it after seeing the film.

Gerwig is great, and so too is Mickey Sumner as Sophie. Sumner brings her own sort of quirkiness to the role, and there's something sad and frustrating as the character evolves into some sort of world-traveling yuppie. Adam Driver from Girls pops up as well, and he's quickly becoming a go-to ensemble player for slice-of-life urban comedy. His character here is much more normal than in Girls, but still really compelling, especially in his interactions with Gerwig as they awkwardly transition from blind date to odd-couple roommates.

At times, FRANCES HA does go a little overboard with its depiction of NYC privileged-hipster life. The movie ultimately gets the absurdity of some of its characters, but sometimes you do think "why doesn't Frances just ditch these rich kids, and hang out with some cooler and more genuine people?" In this way, the movie does sometimes feel trapped in a bit of a bubble. Moments of relatability are intermixed with moments of "ugh, first-world problems." Generally though, the film is sharply-observed and funny and elegantly made enough so as to cancel out such lapses. And even as I began to question Baumbach a bit as the movie went on, he won me over with a great third-act development that sees a distraught Frances return to her old college to work a temporary service gig. This part of the movie really works well, and gets Frances away from the insularity of Manhattan life. And that, in general, is a reason why the movie never becomes unlikable - it takes Frances on enough detours - to France, to her family's house in California, to her old college, that it puts her not-quite-starving-artist city life in perspective.

FRANCES HA was a really pleasant surprise for me. It felt like the modern evolution of movies like Woody Allen's Manhattan (this too is shot in black-and-white) - Woody Allen for the Facebook age. And Gerwig is the perfect inheritor of the Allen mantle. All at once a modern woman and a throwback, Gerwig is eminently watchable, and definitely one to watch.

My Grade: A-

RE-OPENING THE X-FILES - A Look at The X-Files' 20th Anniversary Screening in Hollywood

RE-OPENING THE X-FILES.

- The X-Files is one of the defining shows for me, the first TV drama that I became certifiably obsessed with, and one of the early, influential shows for me that made me want to work in television. It's funny to think how the nine-year run of the show spanned such a vast swath of my young adulthood. I started watching it in 1993 as an eleven year old kid who was into aliens and sci-fi. I watched the series finale in May 2002 at the end of my sophomore year of college. At that time, I had officially made the switch to be a Film and TV major at Boston University, and had even taken a "Writing TV Drama" class, in which I wrote an X-Files spec script.

That spec script was a blatant attempt to ape the style of X-Files writer Darin Morgan, who gave the show a new dimension with his unique, auteur style. There was no mistaking a Darin Morgan-penned episode of The X-Files. His "Jose Chung's From Outer Space" is a hilarious, non-linear, surreal, semi-abstract voyage into truth, lies, and the realms in between. It's my favorite episode of TV ever. In my spec script, I included several homages to "Jose Chung" and other Morgan-written episodes, including a cameo from recurring Morgan-created side character The Stupendous Yappi. And a quirky scene set in a small-town diner - a tribute to a favorite scene in Jose Chung in which Fox Mulder questions a bewildered diner-owner about aliens, ordering a slice of pie prior to asking each subsequent query.

While other sci-fi shows have sort-of filled that X-Files gap in my pop-cultural being - Lost, Fringe, etc.- nothing else has ever captured my imagination in quite the same way. Maybe it was because I felt a strange sort of kindred spirit in Fox Mulder. Maybe it's the creepy atmosphere and spooky vibe of the show - perfect for huddling on the couch with the lights out on a Sunday night - that no other show has since matched. Or maybe it's that the show, for all of its myth-arcs and monsters-of-the-week, always strove for something more than your average TV show. It strove to be smarter, deeper, and more thematically complex. Those of us who were into The X-Files - like Mulder - were watching in search of a deeper Truth.

So, flash-forward to a few weeks ago, May 2013, and here I am living in LA and working in TV. Okay, I still have a ways to go before I write the next Jose Chung, but hey, I'm (hopefully) on my way. In any case, one amazing thing about LA is that there is a constant stream of awesome film festivals, screenings, panels, etc. Over the years, between local events and panels I've seen at things like Comic-Con, I've seen and heard some amazing discussions about some of my all time favorite movies and TV shows. But I'd never seen any kind of X-Files screening or panel, until this month, as part of the LA Times' Hero Complex film festival.

The event - a celebration of the show's 20th (!) anniversary, included a screening of three X-Files episodes - the pilot, "Jose Chung's From Outer Space," and another fan-favorite (and Emmy-winning!) Darin Morgan-penned ep, "Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose."

It was very, very cool to watch these episodes with a packed audience, at the famous Chinese Theater in Hollywood.  While there were one or two moments that proved that, yes, a lot of time has passed since these episodes first aired (namely the gigantic cell phones in the pilot episode) ... they still totally hold up. And just like always, despite all the wackiness and absurdity of "Jose Chung", I still got chills during its final sequence, in which Charles Nelson Reilly, as Jose Chung, ruminates on the meaning of humanity's quest for alien life, positing that even if we are not alone in the universe "we are, each in our own way, truly, alone."

But man, the coolest part of the experience was the Q&A. I knew that show creator Chris Carter was booked to appear, but I was surprised (and totally nerding out), when surprise guests James and Darin Morgan took the stage. To hear the three of them talk about the behind-the-scenes workings of the show was really amazing. All three are pretty soft-spoken guys, but there were, nonetheless, some great tidbits that came out of the panel discussion. In particular, I found it fascinating yet frustrating to hear Darin Morgan explain how The X-Files was the only show he's worked on that allowed him to express his own quirky, auteurist vision, without having to strictly conform to the pre-established conventions of the show. What Morgan did was open up the show, deconstruct it, and redefine what types of stories The X-Files could tell. All of a sudden, The X-Files could be quirky, funny, offbeat, and self-referential. As the series went on, other visionary writers - from Chris Carter to Breaking Bad creator Vince Gilligan - emulated Morgan's approach. It made me think about how few TV dramas today allow for individual writers to put their stamp on an episode. As much as I love shows like Game of Thrones, each episode continues form the last with an almost mechanical precision. The X-Files was a show that made you pay attention to each episode's writing credits. The show created a world and a framework, and then let smart and unique individual voices play within that sandbox. The show even had guest writers like William Gibson and Stephen King pen episodes. How many great dramas today have a framework that would allow for that? Few, if any.

Suffice it to say, I was sitting in my seat at the Chinese Theater, debating stepping forward to ask a question, but realizing that I probably had too much pent-up fanboyism to get out anything coherent. It would have been cool to express how much the show meant to me, and how I probably wouldn't be here in Hollywood if not for its influence. At the same time, it was pretty awesome in and of itself to be in a room with fellow X-Philes on a Sunday night, bringing back a ritual that had, for almost a decade, been an important part of my week.

Chris Carter is interesting. I think he's probably burnt out on The X-Files, and doesn't seem overly enthusiastic about talking about the series' plot points or themes in any great detail. He was similarly elusive about the possibility of a third movie. As a fan, it really does feel like the series needs some proper closure. The end to the journey shouldn't be "I Want to Believe," which was an only-okay film that felt more like a random midseason episode than a fitting finale for one of the all-time great series. While that movie's underwhelming box office performance undoubtedly hurt the chances for a third film, these are strange times we live in. 24 is coming back to TV. Shows are being revived via Kickstarter. New generations are discovering the classics via Netflix and other means. How could  a show like The X-Files *not* come back in some way, shape, or form. Especially when we never got to see a key element of the show's mythology play out on screen - the alien invasion that was supposed to happen in 2012! One bone thrown to fans is that IDW is releasing a new, cannonical comic book this summer, titled "Season 10." It will have input from Carter, and pick up where the second movie left off. Hopefully, this is the first step towards a new movie or TV miniseries. We can only hope. Writer Joe Harris has said that he plans to continue stories from the show, while also bringing The X-Files into 2013 - a world of WikiLeaks, terrorism, drones, etc. Can't wait to read it.

In any case, this screening and Q&A was one of those great events that reminded me why I love this stuff in the first place, and of the type and caliber of content that I aspire to create and be involved with. Yes, TV is a business, and Carter and Morgan's show is a property and a valued franchise of 20th Century Fox. But man, within that framework, they made more than mere product - they made TV that inspired the imagination, that challenged the mind, and that was and is art.

STAR TREK: INTO DARKNESS Goes Boldly Forward

STAR TREK: INTO DARKNESS Review:

- No, this isn't the old Star Trek. This isn't the philosophical original Star Trek, nor is it the intellectual Next Generation. This is the new-school Trek, and what it is is the pop iconography of Star Trek distilled down into a two hour popcorn blockbuster. If that idea inherently annoys you, then hey, you may be predisposed to dislike Into Darkness. It's even more Star Wars-ish than the first film - huge battles and set-piece action scenes, plenty of comedy and lighthearted quips, and a pulp-pop sci-fi energy that is made more for the masses and less so for the diehard Trekkie that refuses to think that Trek can be every bit as action-packed and fast-paced as its sci-fi brethren.

Look, I'm not a hardcore Trekkie, but I have a huge soft spot for select moments of the Original Series, and even more so for The Next Generation (and I'm still brainstorming roundabout ways for Patrick Stewart to cameo in the new movies). And hey, I agree that Star Trek in its absolute ideal form is about being smarter than other sci-fi franchises. Trek should ideally explore moral and philosophical concepts with depth and reverence, treat its futuristic science seriously, and make you think as much (if not more so) as it makes you feel.

The problem is ... it's near-impossible to put all of that into a two-hour movie, especially when the franchise only produces a new movie once every four or so years. And ironically enough, the most highly-regarded Trek movies - Wrath of Khan, First Contact - are the ones that go the big blockbuster route, and that take the show's iconic characters and put them in epic, huge-stakes conflicts worthy of the big-screen.

And so that's why I'm pretty pleased with INTO DARKNESS. Yes, the script is imperfect. Yes, some of the movie is, as Spock would say, illogical. And yes, the movie goes for brawn over brains. But man, this is one of the most fun, entertaining, and rip-roaring blockbusters in quite some time. The movie's energy and action is second to none, and it propels forward at a dizzying and dazzling pace. Most importantly though, the excellent cast really shines. JJ Abrams and Damon Lindeloff have always been "character first, plot second" guys - and while I haven't always agreed with that approach (final season of Lost, anyone?), it really is appreciated here. Because despite the odds and the legacy that they have to live up to, Chris Pine, Zachary Quinto, Zoe Saldana, Simon Pegg, Karl Urban, and the rest of this new cast have become damn near definitive. Blasphemy? I don't know - and the transition is eased by having the great Leonard Nimoy aboard to lend an extra dose of gravitas as Spock Prime. But the cast is universally fantastic here. This movie franchise doesn't have dozens of episodes to establish relationships, so it's got to move quickly. But amidst the chaos and frenzy, there are some wonderful dynamics at play here. We've only known these versions of the characters for a short time - plus, it's been a while since the last film - but Abrams and co place the spotlight firmly on the core cast and their relationships, and very quickly we're invested and rooting for 'em.

So yes, this is different. Some fans are going to roll their eyes and wonder if they're watching The CW's new take on Trek. But again, it's the quality of the actors that elevates the material and makes you genuinely invested in them. Chris Pine shines as Kirk. I think as the franchise proceeds, he needs to start to bring a little more maturity and weight to the role ... but for now, he is charismatic and capable as the still-headstrong captain of the Enterprise. The real star of the movie, however, is Zachary Quinto's Spock. Quinto has now perfected Spock's stoicism, with an undercurrent of wry humor and the capability for genuine pathos as well (credit his half-human side). Plus, he's super badass when it's his turn to save the day. Ultimately, the theme of the movie is about Spock learning how to be not just a slave to logic, but a good friend, companion, and teammate. Maybe that sounds cheesy on paper, and maybe it is slightly cheesy in practice in the film. But again, this is a much more heart-driven Star Trek than we've seen before, and it works quite well in this context.

Aside from Pine and Quinto, the supporting cast is just so darn lovable, it hurts. In terms of returning players, Simon Pegg's Scotty is the real scene-stealer in this one. He's got a pivotal role as compared to the first film, and he's both funny and, in a way, Kirk's conscious. Karl Urban as Bones has less screentime, but man, he's good - delivering the good doctor's lines with a sardonic deadpan that cracked me up. And Zoe Saldana really holds it down as Uhura. While part of her role in the movie is defined by her relationship with Spock, she proves quite capable as a multitalented crew-member and also gets to kick some serious ass. Anton Yelchin's Chekov and John Cho's Sulu get fairly minimal screentime here, but both have a couple of nice moments. And I'll also give a shout-out to Bruce Greenwood as Kirk's predecessor Pike. He has some excellent moments with Kirk in the film, and Greenwood's presence lends a lot to the proceedings and plays a key role in the overall plot.

As for newcomers ... let's talk Benedict Cumberbatch. I know, the guy has a legion of fans already, but I went into Trek mostly unfamiliar with his work. As the villainous terrorist John Harrison (or is he?!), Cumberbatch is basically pretty awesome - as menacing and steely as you could want in a villain. I will say though, the big surprise for me was how big a role Peter Weller (Robocop!) ended up having in the film, playing the head honcho of Starfleet. Weller is one of my all-time favorites, so to see him get to play a major role in a big movie like this was a lot of fun. How is he not in more action and sci-fi films? Also enjoyed Alice Eve as new crew member Carol. It was high time that the modern version of the Enterprise had more than one major female crew member, and Eve quickly asserts herself as a capable-though-possibly-drama-starting member of the team. And man, she does "horrified blood-curdling scream" as good as anyone.

Now, about the plot. I liked it, though I do think the script leaves a lot of room to be picked apart. I will say this: some of the plot nitpicks I've already read online are pretty lame, in my opinion. The movie doesn't have time to address every little nagging question of the "why would he do X when he could have easily just done Y" variety, but most of these kinds of questions can be explained with a little something called imagination. To me, there were not really moments where I thought "glaring plothole!" Mostly, I thought things like, "hmm, okay, I guess Bones couldn't have just done X because, well, if you think about it ...". Point being, I really don't think there are plotholes big or important enough to in any way ruin the movie. Mostly, I think these kinds of complaints are people looking for any excuse to pick apart the movie.

And hey, sidenote: the worst complaints to me are the ones having to do with the rebooted timeline of these films not exactly paralleling the timeline of the original Trek universe. It's a rebooted universe! Anything is possible! But more importantly, I think fans just need to accept that that was basically a plot device / contrivance to allow JJ Abrams and co. to tip the hat to the old franchise, and to allow for a passing of the torch via Nimoy's version of Spock. It clearly was not intended as something to be analysed in the fashion of "so if everything was the same up until Point X, then clearly these elements of the new universe should be completely unchanged from the old one!" It was just a way to have old Spock in the new movies. Chill out. Basically, yes it's fun to think about (nerd-alert!), but not an essential part of these new movies.

That being said, there are some shortcuts taken in the script that I found hard to swallow. Not enough to justify unbridled nerd-rage towards Abrams, Kurtzman, Orci, and Lindeloff - but there nonetheless. One general problem is that the movie hurdles forward so quickly that it necessitates that the characters change their stance on issues on a dime. "Let's go for Plan A!" "No, Plan B!" "No, I was wrong, and I now see the error of my ways from five minutes ago! Plan A was right all along!" Occasionally frustrating, but sort of forgivable given how much the movie is cramming into a few hours. But to me, the biggest weakness of the film is the way in which Cumberbatch's character is handled. Like I said, Cumberbatch himself is awesome in terms of his performance. But the character's arc and backstory feels incredibly rushed and not necessarily presented in an organic-seeming way. Too much of this character's potential awesome-factor is reliant on people having a big "aha!" moment when his true backstory is revealed. And having that moment is fine, but we need more. I needed Cumberbatch himself to make us understand exactly why he is one evil dude not to be messed with, and to make us understand what his plans are and why he needed to be stopped. The movie takes some major shortcuts in this area, and it feels off. I like the call-backs to earlier Trek lore, but if this rebooted franchise wants to stand on its own, it can't rely on us having prior knowledge or recognition of key moments from the old movies. Shout-outs are fun (and this new Trek has a lot of fun ones that I won't spoil here), but skipping over the main villain's origins and motivation and plans, just because we're meant to assume them based on old stories? That is problematic.

But ... it's problematic more so if you look at Cumberbatch as being the movie's uber Big Bad. In a way, he's not, and that makes his somewhat thin character a little more acceptable. Why do I say that? Because ultimately, the film is less about him and more about Starfleet. I'm not going to spoil, except to say that this is a movie about modern warfare on an intergalactic level. Earth is America, the volatile and warlike Klingons are like the outer space version of Muslim extremists, and Starfleet is the force that has to decide if its mission is exploratory or militaristic. Cumberbatch? He's sort of the unfortunate guy who got caught in the middle of all this, got used, abused, and exploited in the name of military advancement, and is now pretty pissed off about it. The parallels with modern politics are not exact, but the thematic connection is 100% there and not exactly subtle (in fact, it may be a bit too on-the-nose). But again, even though I felt the movie took shortcuts with Cumberbatch, it is less important when you accept that he's actually more of a pawn in the movie's uber-plot than the one truly pulling the strings.

There's a lot going on in this film, but JJ Abrams juggles it pretty well, and compensates for some of the script's looseness with a nonstop barrage of incredible set piece action scenes. Star Trek Into Darkness looks amazing, and I don't doubt that Abrams can now go ahead and direct a Star Wars film every bit as epic and iconic as fans could hope for. Abrams continues to sort of pay homage to Spielberg in the way he creates huge-scale visuals matched with choreography that has real rhythm - mixing character, humor, and action to create swashbuckling scenes of epic scale and scope. And man, in IMAX 3D, the film looks stunning - a majority of the film appears to have been shot in IMAX, and there's an immersive, you-are-there feeling that rivals most rides at Disneyland.

Ultimately, Into Darkness succeeds because it is, quite simply, jam-packed with awesome moments. The "oh $#%&" factor is high. Even if the script has some problems, the overall pacing of the film makes for a fairly intoxicating experience - the energy never lets up, and the movie is never dull. Each major sequence of the film feels expertly crafted and staged, and I constantly felt wowed by what I was seeing onscreen - from the opening's breathtaking primordial, volcanic jungle to a later scene in which Pine and Cumberbatch rocket through space with only the help of perilously-close-to-malfunctioning space suits. Abrams wisely does something that I don't think any incarnation of Star Trek has previously done very well - and that is ground all of the interstellar stuff with a sense of what life is like on earth during this era. Into Darkness' juxtaposition of a sleek future-earth (London and San Francisco specifically), teeming with alien life and exotic tech - with the uncharted wilderness of space, and its Klingon homeworlds and floating fortresses - is unique in the Star Trek franchise. Abrams attacks the world of Trek with a Spielbergian sense of awe and wonder and infinite possibility that, honestly, the franchise has rarely ever possessed in years prior.

To reiterate, I can't say enough about the staging and pacing of the film - it moves with a breathless and almost musical energy that is reminiscent of the great action/adventure classics. Haters like to compare these new Trek films to the likes of dreck like Michael Bay's Transformers (and yes, I realize the two franchises share some writers). But visually, from a directorial standpoint, let's give JJ his due. He's doing things here that are in another league than anything Bay could hope to accomplish with his chaotic and ugly visual style. This is Grade-A stuff. And by the way, speaking of music, the movie's score is fantastic, mixing the newer theme with the old-school theme song in a way that is incredibly cool.

Yes, there are logic gaps in Into Darkness that would give Spock some serious pause. But the movie is so fun, so exciting, so visually explosive, and so filled with great characters and moments that it's hard - for me at least - to get too hung up. The movie is flawed, sure, but it also felt like the kind of epic popcorn flick that is the perfect way to kick off the Summer movie season. Save the primal screams of anger for Kirk and Spock - this Trek, while paying homage to the past, nonetheless goes boldly where no Trek has gone before.

My Grade: A-

THE GREAT GATSBY Is a Trainwreck, Old Sport

THE GREAT GATSBY REVIEW:

- The Great Gatsby is one of my favorite books. I know a lot of people say that, but it's true. Even though it's been years since I last read it, the novel left the kind of impression on me where it's been in my brain ever since. Gatsby is that kind of book - the kind whose story and characters resonate ... but what really hits you is the imagery. The isolated Gatsby peering out across the water at the just-out-of-reach Daisy, the hints of crime and corruption and lies behind his mythic persona, the eyes of Dr. T.J. Eckelberg staring over the city, casting judgement over those who pass beneath. For that reason, I went into the new Gatsby film pretty excited. For me, it seemed about time that a visuals-oriented director like Baz Luhrmann tackle the material. I remember, in high school, being shown the old Robert Redford / Mia Farrow version of  Gatsby, and just thinking it was all wrong. The colors, the pacing, the dialogue - everything felt so bland and straightforward. Gatsby needed flair, depth, texture. I was encouraged by what I saw from the trailers of Luhrmann's Gatsby. It seemed like he got that this was a story that needed a visually-dynamic, almost surrealist-bent in order to capture the essence of the book.

Well, as it turns out, I was very wrong. Luhrmann was not, it seems, the man for the job. Luhrmann's take on Gatsby is indeed - like his previous films - hyper visual and ultra-stylized. But here's the problem: it's all, 100% surface-level. The film is visually decadent, but there's absolutely no texture to it. And as the film goes on, it becomes a shockingly literal translation of the book - going so far as to have long stretches of dialogue and narration lifted verbatim, as the text from the novel is superimposed on the screen. The Great Gatsby - the book - is about metaphor, subtext, and images that are evocative not just of a time and place, but of an idea - the death of The American Dream. Nothing about the new movie version is evocative. In fact, it's a flat-out mess.

Now, don't tell me that such a book is untranslatable to film. Don't tell me that movies can't have subtext or depth or visual metaphor. Try telling that to the Coens or to P.T. Anderson (to name a few of the finest living filmmakers, whose best movies are the cinematic equivalents of the Great American Novel). But with this new film, Luhrmann proves that he shouldn't be put in the same category as those great directors. Yes, he can stage a party scene like nobody's business. And he makes the big party scenes in Gatsby into visual marvels that look, admittedly, pretty stunning (and really pop in 3D to boot). But that's literally the best part of Gatsby - the best scenes, by far, are two of its party scenes - one being Gatsby's extravagant affair at his decadent mansion, the other being a smaller and more sinister impromptu bit of debauchery in which Nick Carraway and Tom Buchanan engage in some sinful behavior in a Manhattan apartment. These party scenes work because they are so visually dynamic, and they give the first hour or so of the film a real energy and amusement-park-ride style appeal. But reducing The Great Gatsby to being a Roaring Twenties (in 3D!) Cirque Du Soleil show just seems wrong. And even when it works, the temporary high of those scenes soon fizzles out. The movie can only sustain that circus-like energy for its first act. Soon afterwords, it becomes a talky, plodding soap opera with really nice colors. The last thing I thought I'd be with this film was bored, but for the entire second and third acts, that's exactly what I was.

The inexplicable literalism of the film is doubly frustrating because Luhrmann insists on doing his thing where he fills the movie with modern, anachronistic pop music instead of era-appropriate tunes. This honestly sort of drove me crazy here, because the movie *could* have found a way to cleverly modernize the story, or to use the music in a way that felt meaningful or thematically resonant. But it doesn't. It's not like in Inglorious Basterds, where David Bowie's "Cat People" hypnotically recasts Holocaust survivors as punk-rock revolutionaries. Tarantino is a guy who's used anachronistic music and other stylistic choices to enhance his historical films and give them richer meaning and context. Contrast that to The Great Gatsby. Is there any particular reason why Jay Z and Beyonce are the musical selections in the film (other than Jay Z being a producer)? Is there any real thematic resonance to the songs used? As far as I could see, no, there isn't. The effect is that, when a random group of guys drive through 1920's NYC blasting "99 Problems," it's an unintentionally funny / cringe-worthy moment that takes you out of the movie.

Point being: the stylistic choices in The Great Gatsby feel pretty much arbitrary and there just because, well, that's what Baz Luhrmann does.

As far as the actors go, I felt the performances were a decidedly mixed bag. I'm more or less a pretty big fan, in general, of all of the main players here. But I didn't enjoy the performances in this film all that much, for the most part. Strangely, the only one who seems to nail it is previously-unknown (to me at least) Elizabeth Debicki as the sly and elusive female golf pro Jordan Baker. Debicki brings a casual, lived-in quality to Jordan and the movie is much better when she's on-screen. I don't think it's any coincidence that once Jordan fades into the movie's background, the film suffers.

To that end, I didn't love either Leonardo DiCaprio as Gatsby or Tobey Maguire as Nick. It's weird, DiCaprio has been on an awesome-acting streak of late, most recently impressing in Django Unchained. But as Gatsby, I just didn't love his approach. It's so overdone and "actorly," but not in a particularly powerful or convincing manner. It feels like him doing a voice, but not necessarily fully inhabiting a character. My impression from the book was always that Gatsby is mysterious, dangerous, a man of the shadows. Once Leo makes his big entrance as Gatsby, he's just a complete scenery chewer. It felt way off to me, and was at times grating, at times boring. Same goes for Maguire as Nick. Nick is the ultimate everyman, but Maguire is just too eccentric-seeming and goofy to be a true everyman these days. His Nick is almost comically passive, with no real opinions and no real point of view. It makes the use of Nick's narration from the book that much more jarring - we're being told that Nick feels a certain way, but we're rarely shown anything on screen that backs it up. The fact that Luhrmann uses Nick's eventual stay in a mental health institution as a framing device adds to the disparity. Nick remains a total blank slate throughout the film, and he seems to barely possess an independent thought about anything that occurs in the movie - let alone enough material to put it all into book form, as Luhrmann has him do.

The rest of the cast faces similar challenges navigating through Luhrmann's alternately gaudy then drab dream-world. Carrie Mulligan seems to be giving it her all as iconic Daisy, yet the romance between her and Gatsby seems totally limp. Again, it all comes back to the fact that their relationship is colored in metaphor and imagery in the book, but in the movie, every thought that Gatsby has about Daisy is spelled out in exhaustive detail. Meanwhile, Joel Edgerton's Tom becomes a gruff, debaucherous cartoon character. Edgerton is usually great, but he too seems confused about what tone he should be going for.

Over and over again, The Great Gatsby seems to swing wildly from one extreme to the other in terms of tone, visuals, and stylistic choices. Like I said, it's a mess. It sounds strange to write this, because in the past I've defended films for working on a purely visual level. But Gatsby undermines the power of its own visuals by rarely letting them speak for themselves. Everything feels underlined, bolded, and put on the screen in Size 32 font. By the time the movie was over, I came away with absolutely no thoughts on what it all meant, no ponderings about The American Dream, or the corrupting influence of wealth and power, or the lies America has told itself to create a perfect myth for itself. Sure, there are some surface-level allusions to the book's great themes, but it's all surface, all paper-thin. Even visually, there isn't much that really sticks with you - despite the heavy stylization, there's remarkably little sense of atmosphere to the film.

Maybe some will just get so caught up in the elaborate costumes and music-video-esque, highly choreographed party sequences that, hey, that's enough. But The Great Gatsby deserves better, and more so than that, this is just not a very good movie - with surprisingly little to say, given that it's based on a work that has stood the test of time precisely because it says so much. Like I said, I had hoped that the combination of Baz Luhrmann and The Great Gatsby would be a surprisingly potent combo. Instead, I am left feeling highly skeptical about a director who seems to just mangle source material sans rhyme or reason or vision.

My grade: C

ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK: The Carpenter Classic Gets An Epic Screening in Hollywood

- Last weekend, I had an amazing movie-going experience. Here in LA, there tends to be so much cool film stuff going on that it's easy to be overwhelmed by it all. That overabundance of riches is all the more apparent this May, when two competing, geek-centric film fests are taking place - Entertainment Weekly's Capetown fest, and The LA Times' HeroComplex event. The caliber of events that both fests are holding this year is pretty off-the-charts, but one in particular jumped out at me. Escape From New York. Kurt Russell Q&A. Oh. Hell. Yeah.

ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK is one of my favorite movies ever. Here's what I remember of discovering it as a kid: I remember reading a videogame review that pointed out a certain game's Escape From NY-style visuals. Hmmm ... what was Escape From NY? I hadn't heard of it. Soon thereafter, I sought out a VHS copy of the movie from my local video rental store. I found one, and I was immediately captivated. The cover art - of an eyepatch-clad hero standing heroically in front of the Statue of Liberty, in some kind of dark, apocalyptic scenario, sent my imagination reeling. Before I even saw the movie, I had a feeling that this ... this was awesome.

And the movie was exactly as awesome as I'd hoped. I quickly learned that the eyepatched hero was Snake Plissken, and that Snake was pretty much the baddest mofo on planet earth. I also paid attention to the name of the director of the film - John Carpenter. Whoever this guy was, I wanted to see more. Over the years, I've become a massive fan of Carpenter and his filmography, and it all traces back to Escape From NY.

Seeing the movie on the big screen, newly-restored, was flat-out awesome. Carpenter's movies have a certain something that makes them feel timeless, despite relatively low budgets and f/x constraints. His movies are all about atmosphere in a way that most modern movies don't concern themselves with. Carpenter is the all-time master at creating cinematic worlds that wholly immerse you. They are dark, there are dangerous and ominous things going on - but there's also a streak of pitch black humor and social satire that runs through his work.

So many of today's big action movies want to be all things to all people - it's rare that they carry with them the unique vision of one person. John Carpenter's movies are nothing if not iconoclastic. His semi-warped personality bleeds into every one of his creations. Sometimes that makes for moments that are cheesy, absurd, or just plain weird - but mostly, Carpenter's films have an auteurism that you rarely see in modern genre films. Even the music ... man, the music! Carpenter scores many of his films, and the results are some of the all-time best and most badass movie scores. Escape From New York's score is so kickass ... I remember literally going back and rewinding that old VHS tape multiple times to "watch" the movie's end credits, just to hear the score in all its glory. Again, it's all about atmosphere. Carpenter did these minimalist synth scores that just bleed badassery. As soon as you hear the synth tones from Escape From New York's iconic theme, you know exactly the kind of movie you're about to see.

That same minimalist attitude colors many of Carpenter's movies. Everything tends to be economical, from the dialogue to the shot selection. It has the effect of making everything feel painterly, iconic, larger than life. And larger than life is exactly what Kurt Russell is in Escape From New York. The movie needs no lame "origin story" for Snake Plissken. No, our antihero arrives fully-formed. We get hints of his backstory ("Snake? Heard you were dead."). But only hints. Carpenter wasn't big on being overly expository. He left things to your imagination. And that lack of detail made Snake all the more badass. He was mysterious, and yet at the end of the day, we knew the most important things about him - like the fact that he was not a man to be messed with. More than that, Snake's nihilistic attitude colors the whole film and its punk, anti-establishment message. When Snake is first recruited to serve on a last ditch mission to save the President - stranded in the island prison of Manhattan - Snake is warned that a failure to save the President could bring about world war. "I don't give a &$#& about your war. Or your President." says Snake. Classic.

Kurt Russell is pitch perfect in this movie - one of the all-time classic and iconic performances in the Badass Hall of Fame. And the movie is bursting at the seams with awesome performances. The legendary Lee Von Cleef as the Warden of Manhattan Island is just so damn good, it hurts. The movie universe sorely, sorely missed him and his unmatched presence. Every interaction between him and Russell is just quietly earth-shaking. At the movie's end, when the Warden makes an offer to Snake to come work for him ("We'd make a hell of a team."), you can't help but imagine the potential for gravitas-infused Russell/Von Cleef team-up in future films. But of course, joining with "the man" wouldn't be in character for Snake. And while some movies would take that sort of sequel-bait and run with it, Carpenter's film gives us the ultimate f-you, middle finger sort of ending that few, if any, films of today would have the guts to go with.

Isaac Hayes is similarly iconic as The Duke of New York ("A-Number-One!"). The music when he is first introduced, pulling up in a lampshade-emblazoned pimpmobile, is so good. The Duke is just a classic villain. Donald Pleasance as the President is also fantastic ... arrogant, slimy - giving credence to the movie's ironic sense of 80's-style attitude, in which the President is viewed as a puppet with one finger on the big red button and one eye in the vanity mirror. Harry Dean Stanton, meanwhile, is also great as the manipulative rival of Snake's, Brain. And of course, the great Ernest Borgnine lends just the right amount of left-of-center pulp-weirdness as genial sidekick Cabbie.

I will say this. Watching the movie on the big screen, for the first time in years, I was struck by Adrian Barbeau's character. She is unapologetic in her alliance with the scheming Brain, even though she was apparently "given" to him by the Duke. But even though Barbeau has a relatively small amount of screentime, she is such a badass. Here in 2013, I've seen a bunch of recent action movies where it's considered a big novelty when a female character kicks ass alongside her male counterparts (Iron Man 3, anyone?). But in Escape From NY, Barbeau mounts a daring last stand against the Duke and his men that Carpenter stages as completely par-for-the-course. Basically, Carpenter takes it for granted that a woman can be just as badass as Snake Plissken if called upon. Why have movies of today seemingly reverted to the point where it's once again a big deal for women to hold their own?

Overall though, watching Escape From NY at the Egyptian Theater in Hollywood just left me completely giddy and geeking out. While many movies and videogames have aped the style of Escape From New York over the years ("Doomsday" is basically on giant tribute, as is the recent "Lockout"), action movies that capture Carpenter's dark sense of humor and social satire - or his emphasis on atmosphere and mood - are rare in today's movie marketplace. So many action movies of today are concerned with sensory overload that they don't know how to properly pace themselves, to properly build tension or a sense of dread and foreboding. Few films capture the iconography of a Carpenter film. And few if any action movies have ever been as iconic or as badass as Escape From New York, and even fewer action heroes have been as iconic or as badass as Snake by-god Plissken.

So to then see Snake himself, Kurt Russell, live and in person to do a Q&A with EW's Geoff Boucher - it was a real treat. Russell is nearly as elusive as Snake himself, and he rarely does interviews or publicity of any kind. It's probably kept him from being in the kinds of big, iconic roles that fans want to see him in, to some degree. I mean, I always wonder how in the hell there's not a badass action movie starring Kurt Russell out every year. There was Tarantino's Death Proof, sure. But that was the exception. Still, Russell's relative absence from the limelight made the talk with him that much more compelling. To hear his stories about being a child actor, about working for Walt Disney, about his stint as a pro baseball player - all pretty fascinating. Of course, the best part for me were the stories and anecdotes about Escape From New York and about John Carpenter. Hearing about how Russell created the character of Snake (he tried to talk in a whisper, thinking that Snake wouldn't care if someone heard what he was saying or not), was really, really cool. Now, do I agree with Russell's assessment that he's now too old to play Snake? Hell no! To me, an older and more grizzled Snake would be badass as hell, and I'd love to see one more "Escape" adventure with Carpenter at the helm. But like Russell, I agree that a remake, which has unfortunately been rumored and discussed, would be a questionable idea. Russell is so iconic in the role - no one else could fill those boots.

But Boucher did a great job with the Q&A - I'd call it podcast worthy. It was a lengthy, informative, funny discussion with many great anecdotes from Russell. While it can be easy to be cynical and jaded here in Hollywood, this was the kind of evening that made you remember why you love the movies in the first place. Hearing a legend and a childhood hero talk, to be in that room with fellow film fans, to see Escape From New York on the big screen - it was an epic night indeed.*

*Well, except for one thing. And that one thing was Entertainment Weekly and sponsor TNT's decision to subject the crowd to the FULL season 3 premiere of TNT's Falling Skies prior to getting to see Escape From New York. EW and TNT severely overestimated the crossover appeal of the two properties, and, sorry to say, but the Falling Skies episode was sort of painful to get through - made even worse by the fact that few if any in the audience were actual viewers of the show. Then, they did a full cast Q&A afterwords, and while, sure, it was cool to see the likes of Noah Wylie and Moon Bloodgood in person - WE WERE THERE FOR ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK AND KURT RUSSELL. Not a good way to shoehorn in some other random thing to a crowd that could, for the most part, care less. Lame.