12 YEARS A SLAVE Is Brilliant and Poetic Depiction of the American Nightmare

 12 YEARS A SLAVE Review:

- 12 YEARS A SLAVE is such a unique, in some ways unusual film, that I honestly wasn't sure what to make of it, exactly, upon leaving the theater. This sprawling tale of American Slavery doesn't feel at all like what we've come to expect from films dealing with this era or with this narrative. Director Steve McQueen includes absolutely no flourishes of Spielbergian grandiosity in his film. Instead, he uses long, unwavering takes to create a film filled with artfully-depicted brutality, and positively overflowing with a feeling of overpowering, existential dread. The mix of unfiltered ugliness mixed with lyrical, poetic storytelling (and some sprinkling of gallows humor - both literal and figurative) creates a movie that plays out like a waking nightmare for its protagonist, the sold-into-slavery Solomon Northup. The result is a film that's utterly engrossing and endlessly praise-worthy. This is a film that has literary depth and subtext, but that also crackles with memorable visuals and cinematic sweep.

Solomon is played by Chiwetel Ejiofor, and it's a career-making performance. Ejiofor brings a soulful, restrained dignity to the character that I don't think I fully appreciated until late in the film. I describe the performance in these terms because Solomon starts the movie as a free, educated black man - a man who enjoys a relatively decent and undeniably joyful life - with a loving wife, two young children, and respected in his upstate New York town as a knowledgeable and trustworthy builder. However, it's his hobby that gets him into trouble - his skill as a fiddle-player attracts the attention of two traveling entertainers who convince Solomon to accompany them for a few of their shows. When Solomon is deceived by the musicians, he suddenly wakes up in a dark prison, having been abducted, taken down south, and sold into slavery. And from that point on, he has to hide who he really is. Because all the things that helped him get ahead up North - his smarts, his eloquence, his education - are liabilities as a slave. In order to survive, he has to show restraint, hide his thoughts, hide his intellect, hide his rage. And that is what makes Ejiofor's performance so remarkable. We see hints of what's going on in his head - in Solomon's eyes. But only rarely is he free to say what he really thinks. The dichotomy between who Solomon was and who he is forced to become is absolutely jarring. Because the white slave owners view him as lesser, animalistic, primitive - so too is this how he must act. And Ejiofor pulls off this tricky balance - this performance full of subtle expressions and telling glances - with aplomb. His Solomon never fully loses his dignity or his almost regal-like aura of calm and wisdom. But it's not for lack of trying on the part of the slave-owners who want to strip him of his humanity. What's remarkable about the film is the push and pull in that dynamic. Despite all efforts to break Solomon, to make him the prototypical, subservient slave - it's just impossible. The guy is too smart, too resourceful, too full of life for that sort of reductive psychology to fully take hold.

As good as Ejiofor is, he's surrounded by a remarkable supporting cast that is filled with equally award-worthy performances. There's two additional turns that really stand out to me though. One is Michael Fassbender as slave-owner Edwin Epps. Epps is the second slave-owner that Solomon is sold to (following a stint with the kinder and more sympathetic Ford, played by Benedict Cumberbatch), and he's a monster. The violence and rage he directs at his slaves is indicative of deep-seated psychological issues. Further complicating Epp's mania is his lustful obsession with one of the female slaves, Patsey. Epps puts Patsey on a pedestal, routinely praising her as his best worker in the fields. He also routinely rapes her, sapping her soul and demoralizing her to the point where she is hopeless and suicidal. Epps' disturbing relationship with Patsey drives his wife (a great turn from Sarah Paulson) off the wall, and Patsey and the other slaves find themselves caught in the volatile couple's tumultuous relationship. Fassbender is riveting as Epps though. He's a thoroughly despicable villain, but also a deeply complex character - a strange brew of madness and rage. But he is also emblematic of the disease of the mind that permeated throughout the antebellum south. How was it, we wonder, that so many could condone slavery, or even sadistically take pleasure in it? Epps', as a psychological profile, is case in point. Fassbender does wonders with the character - scary yet fascinating.

That leads me to Lupita Nyong'o as Patsey. Similar to Solomon, she must outwardly seem subservient and appreciative of her masters. But in Patsey's eyes, we see the bubbling sadness and hopelessness. We see the remnants of youth and girlhood, which we see all but stripped away by Epps. And when Patsey is pushed to limit, when she can take no more, Nyong'o turns in a gripping, jaw-dropping performance when she, as Patsey, lets the emotions flow freely in a rare moment of open expression. She and Solomon are two sides of the same coin. Solomon's lived the life of a free man, and so knows what it is that he lost as a slave. Patsey has known nothing but slavery, and can't even fathom what life outside of it is like. Suffice it to say, Nyong'o makes Patsey into the film's unlikely star - a supporting character whose horrifying treatment under Epps shows slavery at its worst and most soul-crushing.

So many other great little performances are scattered throughout the film. I mentioned Cumberbatch and Paulson, who are both excellent. Paul Giamatti shows up briefly but memorably as a sleazy slave-trader. The great Michael K. Williams, of The Wire and Boardwalk Empire, also makes a brief but badass cameo. Another small but crucial role is played by Garret Dillahunt (whose presence reinforces my perception that the film actually has a lot of stylistic and thematic similarities to the HBO series Deadwood). Dillahunt does here what he does best - he plays a slightly crazy and unhinged guy who Solomon takes a big risk in trusting. Alfre Woodard is another iconic actress who shows up for a small but vital role, playing a favored slave who has grown quite comfortable with her status. Now, I've heard some criticism of Bradd Pitt's role as a Canadian journeyman who provides a crucial bit of help to Solomon. I thought that Pitt's freewheeling persona proved a good fit for the part, and he provides a crucial counterpoint to characters like Epps. Pitt's puzzlement at slavery helps to paint the obsession that men like Epps have with it as a sort of infectious disease that had taken root in the minds of the antebellum south. At the same time, what seems like simple sanity to us now was, in that time and place, the very definition of radical and subversive thought. Finally, I've got to mention Paul Dano. Dano is just the best at playing loathsome, weaselly characters who very much deserve the punch-to-the-face that they inevitably receive. He's played that sort of character a lot, but this might be his best overall variation on that theme since There Will Be Blood.

Thinking about Dano's character, and Fassbender's, and other aspects of the film ... there is something slightly, undeniably pulpy about 12 YEARS A SLAVE. I keep mentioning this when I hear people say they're not sure they can stomach the film. It is violent, it is brutal, and it is at times disturbing. But to McQueen's credit, it's also an incredibly entertaining film. That takes nothing away from the seriousness of the subject matter, or the emotional weight of the movie. But McQueen also doesn't shy away from giving his film style and atmosphere, and even a bit of over-the-topness. I'll say that the movie's best scene is a weird mix of darkly funny and oddly disturbing. In the scene, Solomon is all but left for dead, set to be hung, before the men doing the hanging are stopped before Solomon can be fully strung up. And so Solomon is left with his toes just barely touching the ground, straining to keep himself from strangling to death. Solomon is gasping, panting, flailing. And all around him - as McQueen keeps his camera still and centered - we see others, black and white, simply going about their business - paying absolutely no attention to the guy right there, in front of them, on the very precipice of life and death. It's a scene that goes from scary to funny to scary again, and it's a weird Twilight Zone moment that, in its own way, completely summarizes the entire movie in miniature. Because yes, this is Solomon's story, but it's also the story of a supposedly civilized nation that had become a country of brainwashed zombies, stuck in a purgatory-like state in which, somehow, this sort of atrocity wasn't worth batting an eye over.

And so the film does have that pulpy aspect, that dark humor,  and that slightly skewed aesthetic that makes it more than your typical Hollywood-ized history lesson. There are a lot of layers here. And McQueen proves himself, above all else, a great storyteller - not telling his narrative in a completely linear or traditional sense, but in a way that's incredibly gripping, yet different from what one might expect from this sort of story. He doesn't talk down to the audience, or oversimplify things. He uses flashbacks and flash-forwards to create a sense of disorientation, to reinforce that nightmare feeling. He uses long takes many times - fixing his camera's lens on nature, on faces, on images - to make us pay attention to detail, focus on juxtaposition, and soak in the emotion of a moment.

I also think that John Ridley's screenplay is worth mentioning. Ridley also wrote Red Tails - a movie that is full on pulp (whereas 12 Years A Slave is only pulp-tinged, I'd say), but also one that I don't think really telegraphed Ridley's full potential. I mentioned the comparison to TV's Deadwood earlier, and that comparison comes to mind when I think of this film's colorful dialogue - a sort of formal prose that lends a certain gravitas to the words that are spoken. The mix of poetry and vulgarity, formality and brutality, is in keeping with the weird dichotomies of the movie's setting.

The whole film, in fact, is one of dichotomies. Its central story is that of a worldly and well-regarded man suddenly plunged into a hellish life of slavery, in which it is assumed that he is sub-human. In this world of degradation and humiliation, Solomon is surrounded by brutal men who also regard themselves as god-fearing Southern Gentlemen. And then there's the absurdity that always strikes me with stories about slavery - the fact that the slaves that were so looked down upon were, despite that, so ever-present and such a constant and integral part of their owner's lives.

12 YEARS A SLAVE does not fit the template of what a big Hollywood Oscar-bait movie is supposed to be, and I think that's what makes it so great. This is a film that's genuinely challenging and thought-provoking. At times, I'd even call it an art-film in certain respects for the non-traditional ways that some of its key scenes unfold. At other times, I agree with the sentiment that it plays out almost like a horror film or a Twilight Zone episode - with an ordinary man suddenly thrust into a nightmare scenario that completely turns his world upside down. There's that noir-ish feeling of fate conspiring against him, of being trapped in a dark void from which escape is a near-impossibility. But when you couple that creepy vibe with the fact that this is real history - an adaptation of a real person's autobiography - there is, again, that dichotomy: of real-life-meets-unreality. Life as waking nightmare. A warped, backwards version of the American Dream in which, instead of upward mobility, a man is dragged from the middle class all the way down to the bottom, made a slave, forced to endure hell, as part of some mass delusion about skin color determining one's worth as a human being. 12 YEARS A SLAVE doesn't give you that swell of emotion and triumph when it ends. It's not a crowd-pleaser that sends you home happy, or in tears for that matter. No, the feeling you get at the end of this film is one of waking up from a strange dream. A dream that you pinch yourself to make sure that, yes, it was, in fact, only a dream. But here's the brilliance of the movie - this wasn't just a dream. This happened. That took a while to register with me. It took a few days for the full achievement of this film to fully sink in. But now, I can look back and recognize the unique brilliance at play here, and I can heartily recommend this film as one of the true must-see movies of 2013.

My Grade: A

DALLAS BUYERS CLUB Is Difficult But Powerful True-Life Story

DALLAS BUYERS CLUB Review:

- Dallas Buyer's Club is a gut-punch of a film that is hard to get out of your head. I'd call it ugly. Ugly in that this is a film that doesn't shy away from harsh truths. Visually, Matthew McConaughey is almost hard to look at in the film. Playing real-life AIDS activist Ron Woodroof, McConaughey looks like the walking dead - bone thin and emaciated. It's also ugly in that Woodruff is no role model, despite the arc of personal redemption that he goes through over the course of the movie. Ron starts the movie as an ugly human being - a drug abuser and womanizer - crass and vulgar in the worst of ways. Finally, this is an ugly movie in that it sheds a harsh light on HIV, AIDS, and the seemingly futile war to fight it upon its rapid spread in America in the 80's. In no uncertain terms, the film shows how corporate bureaucracy - drug companies and the FDA - slowed the development and availability of effective treatments for the disease. Ron Woodruff starts the film as an ugly character, but his brand of ugliness is one that seems wholly American - the kind that has a strange sort of nobility in this country - the asshole cowboy who does what he wants, when he wants. But soon enough - diagnosed with AIDS and a death sentence - Ron experiences the ugliness of others. Branded an outcast and a virtual leper, he is forced to become the "other" that he always looked down upon.

This is a fascinating real-life story, and it all starts when Ron realizes that he has contracted the AIDS virus after engaging in unprotected sex with a prostitute. The diagnosis comes when Ron is already beginning to suffer severe symptoms of the illness - symptoms which he had ignored for a long while, before he finally collapses and wakes up in a hospital bed. Ron goes through a period of denial about his condition, but denial turns to frustration when he realizes how ineffective the drugs he's being prescribed are. He hears stories about better treatments in Mexico and other countries that are not approved for distribution in the US, and so he makes it his mission to track down these drugs ... not only for himself, but for the growing community of AIDS patients that he reluctantly finds himself a part of. Selling the drugs without getting caught proves to be difficult, so Ron finds a loophole: creating a buyers' club where members get the drugs for free as part of their membership fees. Soon, Ron is a thriving businessman, and a source of hope for a community that for a long time had no reason for optimism.

Ron's unlikely business partner is a sassy drag queen named Rayon - brilliantly played by Jared Leto. The two meet in the hospital, and Ron is initially disgusted and repulsed by Rayon, and wants nothing to do with him. The bond and friendship that eventually forms between the two is undoubtedly one of the movie's most emotionally resonant elements. Leto is absolutely fantastic as Rayon. His drag-queen persona is flippant and flamboyant, but Leto also shows us the sad and tormented side to the character. This could easily have been a one-note role, but Leto embodies it so fully that Rayon practically steals the movie. The film does a masterful job of depicting the sense of risk and danger that outsiders like Rayon felt in this not-so-long-ago era (and today, to a large extent). What might be more in-the-open today was, then, part of a fringe movement, a shadowy and hidden world. Rayon may have a flamboyant personality, but he was still a person totally confined to the margins - his suffering, and the suffering of his peers, was very much swept under the rug by most Americans at the time.

Back to McConaughey for a second ... he too just nails it in this film. While his grotesque physical transformation here threatens to overwhelm his acting, the acting is so good that that never happens. McConaughey has been on an absolute tear recently, in movies like Bernie, Killer Joe, and this year's Mud. But this has to be his crowning career achievement thus far - an acting job that confirms his status in the upper echelon of actors working today. This is full-body, full-commitment acting - the kind that gets down to the micro-level of twitches. And this is not something we've really seen from McConaughey  before. Often, he's the cool pulp badass, larger-than-life. Here, he's complicated, grimy, ugly - a firestorm of emotions and motivations.

Perhaps that's why the one part of the film that drags things down a bit is Ron's unlikely relationship with Jennifer Garner's Eve, a doctor at the local hospital who treats Ron, and who finds herself increasingly sympathetic to his fight against the medical establishment. It makes sense that she might be drawn to Ron the patient and his fight, but it's hard to see why she might have this connection with Ron the person. It's probably the only semi-false note in what is otherwise a note-perfect character study.

Otherwise, Ron and Rayon's relationship is built to perfection. And there's also a great relationship between Ron and his old buddy Tucker (Steve Zahn), a cop who's always had a some friction with Ron, but who now is forced to reexamine both his friendship and his concept of right and wrong. Similarly, Kevin Rankin - of Breaking Bad and Justified - does a great job, as a pal of Ron's who has a harder time accepting that his partner in crime has now become an AIDS-carrying outcast, who hangs around with folks like Rayon. I also thought that Denis O'Hare of True Blood was excellent, as an antagonistic doctor who doesn't have Ron's best interests in mind.

Director Jean-Marc Vallée gives the film a gritty, dangerous vibe that captures 80's-era, Southern-noir grime quite effectively. At times, the film has a nightmarish, almost horror-movie quality to it. At the same time, there is surprising heart. The film doesn't go for artificially-inserted Hollywood endings or anything like that. But the organic evolution of Ron - his outlook on life and death, his determination to help others, and - most movingly - his slow but gradual acceptance of Rayon and others like him, makes for several scenes that are genuinely affecting.

In terms of the movie's politics, I'm sure that particulars of what really happened vs. what's in the film will be picked apart by those looking for an agenda on the part of the filmmakers. But to me, the details are less important than the call-to-action in a broader sense. Ordinarily, I (and most of us, I suspect), don't dwell too much on the inner workings and politics of modern medicine. But the movie is an eye-opener, a reminder that we should be aware and awake to the political and financially-motivated decisions that affect disease research and treatment.

Separately, the movie is also a stark, powerful reminder that it's easy to keep our backs turned to those who are suffering, until helping them has some sort of meaningful financial or other reward for us. In a strange way, Ron having to work with the same sorts of people that he once shunned may have been a blessing in disguise. Ron was a guy who was used to living within a system that catered to him, that accommodated him. So he had very little tolerance or patience for being an afterthought. And that stubborn egotism is what fueled his fight against AIDS.

DALLAS BUYERS CLUB is, at times, a hard movie to watch. I had a constant feeling of unease while watching it. But it's also a memorable, powerful film that is well worth experiencing. On one level, it's got amazing performances - a career-best for McConaughey. On another level, it's a searing story of recent American history that still very much resonates in 2013.

My Grade: A-

ESCAPE PLAN Is Nostalgic, 80's-Style Slice of Cheesy-Awesome

ESCAPE PLAN Review:

- While the most recent efforts from Sylvester Stallone and a back-to-acting Arnold Schwarzenegger have been met with mostly indifference at the box office, I've got to say: I've really been enjoying this recent spate of late-career action flicks from the two titanic stars. And it annoys me to no end that amidst the endless age jokes, and the weary critical eye from reviewers, some of these legitimately enjoyable films are getting overlooked. Maybe it's Expendables fatigue. Stallone's uber team-up movies have been only-okay at best, and have contained an odd mix of old-school stars with mediocre attempts to emulate modern action movie aesthetics. So yeah, the Expendables movies have yet to 100% live up their potential. But that doesn't mean that they haven't indirectly spawned some worthy films from Stallone and Schwarzenegger. This year alone, Arnold's The Last Stand was a badass, uber-enjoyable action/comedy, and Stallone's Bullet to the Head was a decidedly old-school, hard-nosed effort from Walter Hill. And now, there's ESCAPE PLAN. A dream-team team-up of Sly and Ahnold that, yes, would have been more exciting twenty years ago and pre-Expendables, but still ... for anyone who grew up in (or who has an admiration for) the pumped-up era of 80's action films, this particular pairing is one that's been a long, long time coming.

And you know what? ESCAPE PLAN is cheesy, it's silly, but man, it's entertaining. It's a total throwback film. Yes, Sly and Arnold are older, but the film itself feels right out of 1985. Mostly, that's a good thing. They don't make 'em like this anymore. In the world of Escape Plan, a knockout punch is accompanied by a deadpan one-liner. A handshake between our two stars is filmed, Predator-style, like a meeting of cinematic superheroes. Explosions and gun battles are doled out liberally, with little regard for body count. And when all is said and done, our heroes laugh and walk off into the sunset, freeze-framed into cinematic immortality. What's fun about this film is that it treats the meeting of its two leads as a mega-epic team-up. Sometimes these kinds of movies don't want to overemphasize the pairing of two icons, but that pairing is Escape Plan's raison d'être. The film has no qualms about going big, goofy, and over-the-top. There's absolutely no subtlety in Escape Plan's DNA.

In the movie, Stallone plays Ray Breslin, a master of escape who makes a living by breaking out of maximum security prisons - thus exposing their vulnerabilities and showing where security needs to be beefed up. However, Breslin is faced with nearly insurmountable odds when he's hired to break out of The Tomb - an off-the-books super-max that's outfitted with high-tech cells, and patrolled by masked, anonymous guards who look like rejects from GI Joe's Cobra. To make matters worse, Breslin realizes that there may be more to his stay in The Tomb than meets the eye - namely, this may be less about him testing the facility, and more about him being set up as a fall-guy by his shady employers. Suddenly, Breslin's need to escape is less about doing a job, and more about his very survival.

Breslin's one ally in The Tomb is Emil Rottmayer (Schwarzeneger). Rottmayer is a burly German who is of particular interest to The Tomb's sinister warden, Hobbes (an ice-cold Jim Caviezel). Hobbes believes that Rottmayer has valuable intel on a wanted terrorist (Rottmayer calls him a freedom fighter), and is determined to extract said intel by any means necessary. So Breslin and Rottmayer form an alliance: hatching the titular escape plan by combining Breslin's MacGuyver-esque escape skills with Rottmayer's knowledge of the prison, value to the warden, and of course, brute strength.

Stallone and Schwarzenegger are both a lot of fun here. Stallone is doing a variation on his recent hard-nosed characters in The Expendables and Bullet to the Head, but Schwarzenegger is really doing something interesting. He's got a certain mischievous gleam in his eye that we haven't seen in quite some time, and he plays Rottmayer as funny, almost jovial, despite his dire circumstances. This actually makes for a great chemistry between the two leads - Stallone as the serious one, all business, Schwarzenegger as the quippy troublemaker who will still come through in a jam. What's more, Schwarzenegger actually has some moments where I was flat-out impressed by his acting. One sequence in particular, where he tauntingly screams out German to his captors, in order to avoid revealing sensitive info under duress, is downright awesome. If this is what crazy-old-man Ahnold can offer us in the years ahead, then my god, bring on the crazy old-man roles for Ahnold.

Caviziel is good and properly loathsome as the warden. Sam Neil also appears, lending some bonus gravitas to a small but crucial role as the morally-conflicted prison doctor. Vinnie Jones surfaces as the warden's sadistic enforcer, though he's actually a bit more restrained than per usual. Finally, Amy Ryan is in the mix as Stallone's colleague/sometimes-love-interest. All do a nice job and lend a lot of personality to the film (less impressive: rapper 50 Cent as another, more bland, slightly more useless associate of Stallone's).

Where ESCAPE PLAN stumbles is that its sense of fun is, at times, offset by a hamfistedness that inspires unintentional laughs, and the occasional eye-rolling/face-palm. When Stallone attempts to win the loyalty of Sam Neil by reminding him of his Hippocratic Oath, the film then segues into a melodramatic montage where we see Neil literally reading through a book of medical ethics, deliberating over the Oath. That's one example of several in which the movie - which walks a fine line overall between camp and stupidity - veers wildly into the realm of stupidity. Mostly, there's nothing so offensive that you can't just go with it, but I also think the movie could have benefited from a tad more self-awareness of its own ridiculousness (not too much though - wouldn't want to mess around with the gloriously oblivious 80's vibe).

The other main problem with the movie is that for a movie centered around a high-tech, super-max prison, the design of The Tomb simply isn't all that inspired. Other than a couple of futuristic touches, it feels pretty standard-issue. It feels like a bit of a wasted opportunity for cool visual design. It's funny though, because based on the rather bare-bones design of the prison, I assumed that the entirety of the movie would have sort of a low-budget, B-movie feel. But the producers seem to have saved their dough for the third act, in which we're treated to some surprisingly massive set-piece action scenes that recall 80's-era excess.

Ultimately, Escape Plan feels like a perfect movie to place on one's bookshelf alongside the likes of endlessly watchable 80's Stallone/Schwarzenegger cheese like Commando or Tango & Cash. There's a certain unapologetic aesthetic here that I just find incredibly refreshing in the world of the postmodern action film. Maybe not a new classic - and this won't win over any new converts - but Escape Plan remains a fine bit of nostalgic action escapism, for those who long for the days when action movies and action heroes were truly larger than life.

My Grade: B+

ALL IS LOST Is Harrowing Tale of Survival at Sea

ALL IS LOST Review:

- Coming only weeks after the game-changing outer space survival story Gravity, the oceanic adventure of indie release ALL IS LOST might, at first, seem underwhelming by comparison. All Is Lost does bear some similarities to Gravity - it's a solitary journey - mixing realism with spiritual subtext - and it's a harrowing tale of survival that puts the viewer through the ringer, immersing you there, in the moment, with its lone protagonist. What's interesting about All Is Lost, however, is its starkness and simplicity. This is a movie all about minimalism. Director J.C. Chandor (Margin Call) doesn't give us anything in the way of backstory. All we know about our main character, a nameless sailor played with gritty determination by Robert Redford, is his moment-to-moment reality. And so, as the film progresses, we become utterly swept up in this character's dogged struggle to stay alive, with no real additional context to muddle the action.

Chandor shoots the film in a very straightforward, un-flashy, almost documentary-esque manner. It's jarring, at first, because it takes a while to acclimate, and to figure out what exactly is happening. That said, the film opens with a somber bit of narration from Redford, which quickly but effectively sets the stakes for the rest of the largely dialogue-free film. Redford's narration - a reading of a last will and testament (to whom - his wife? - we can't quite be sure), makes it clear that the events we are about to see will lead to very, very dire circumstances. But what's fascinating is seeing how those events come to pass.

Because the film is so detail-oriented, so grounded ... Redford's plight is worsened less by melodramatic, cinematic occurrences and more by small but crucial twists of fate, and increasingly volatile conditions to his boat. The slow build works well, and it's easy to place ourselves in the shoes of Redford. What's interesting is that Redford doesn't suddenly find himself stranded in the ocean clinging to a floating board, or suddenly without any food or drinkable water. He has supplies, he has a life raft he can utilize if need be ... so it's a slow, steady descent towards the end of the line. Each decision Redford makes becomes more critical as time goes on. You can see from Redford's acting that internal struggle to accept what's actually happening. There is that desire to hole up in his boat's cabin and act like it's not that bad. But that false sense of security ends when water repeatedly begins flowing into all areas of the vessel. Quickly, each scene of the film forms a practical question to us and to our protagonist. How long does Redford stay on the sinking boat? What food can he salvage, and how? What equipment and materials does he have at his disposal that he can use to survive, to find help, to carry on?

Redford is excellent here. A younger Redford may not have worked in the role, because he wouldn't have seemed like an average-enough guy to relate to. But here, the 77 year old actor's steely determination and experience-derived pragmatism is tempered by the limitations of age. Redford is no superhero in this film. He's remarkably - incredibly - spry and agile for a man his age. We never doubt that he's tough as hell. But the film also doesn't cover up the toll that the physicality of the action takes on the actor or the character he plays. We hear his heavy breathing, we see the pain on his face, we see the effort it takes to do the things that might have come easier to a younger man. That dynamic is key to All Is Lost. Redford still has movie-star charisma at 77, but this film doesn't play it up. Instead, it's a very honest portrayal of a man whose movements have become more deliberate, more labored. Even at 77, this is a guy still tougher than most half his age. And yet ... the actor's age gives the film an added significance - this is to be his last battle, his final test. If nothing else, he's determined to go down fighting.

Again, give Redford credit for a unique performance that tells us a lot without words. The actor's presence infuses this character with a lot of unspoken baggage, but it's baggage that works in the film's favor. This is a man who is clearly proud, likely highly confident in himself, potentially even a touch aristocratic. That makes it all the more humbling for him when he's completely at the mercy of an unrelenting ocean, increasingly helpless against the harsh mistress that is Mother Nature.

Moment to moment, shot to shot, the movie feels grounded - scenes are often composed like logic puzzles, with Redford trying but failing at something, and then revising his strategy and figuring out a Plan B. At the same time, there is that spiritual, existential element to the film. The tight, close-in camera work will occasionally be interrupted by wide overhead shots, or long underwater shots looking up at the boat, or the life-raft, showing us the ocean life beneath. It's a reminder of man's smallness in the context of nature - underscored by the film's spare but ominous score. And it's a theme that becomes more apparent as the film goes on, as Redford becomes more desperate and helpless. That other theme - of one man's final battle - is also there as the movie reaches its climax. The ending is left fairly open for interpretation, and is accompanied by some memorable, haunting imagery.

My complaints are few, but I think there are moments where the film could have used a little more sense of context around the main character's actions. There are times when it's a bit unclear why Redford is or isn't pursuing a specific course of action - with little dialogue, it's understandable that much is left open and not fully explained. At the same time, the movie's grounded, matter-of-fact style occasionally gives way to sudden edits that leave you with a feeling of "but wait, how did ...?". Otherwise, I suppose that the movie's other most obvious failing - that it takes a while to really get going - also plays into its strength as a narrative: all of that build-up creates a real feeling of immersion and realism. When things really get crazy later on, you're all in. The slow build definitely yields a worthy payoff.

ALL IS LOST is ultimately a hell of a tale of survival. Individual scenes have a rugged, you-are-there, no-frills quality that fully sells you on the on-screen action. The parts, however, add up to a whole that is not just about the practical means of surviving while stranded at sea, but a striking meditation on life, death, and the will to survive.

My Grade: A-

MACHETE KILLS Is Fun But Overstuffed B-Movie Insanity

MACHETE KILLS Review:

- I love that we're still living in a world where postmodern grindhouse films like Machete can be made. There's something to be said for the anything-goes aesthetic of these movies, and the sheer sense of fun to be had with them. In an age when too many action movies seem overly grim, it's refreshing to sit back and watch a movie that at its core is solely about having fun - realism, political correctness, and good taste be damned. That said, MACHETE KILLS worries me just a bit. Because in spite of what I just said, if you look at the original Tarantino/Rodrguez Grindhouse collaboration, there was also a strong sense of creativity and ingenuity at play. Yes, those films were fun, and reveled in exploitation-genre excess. But there was also a real sense that we were getting a chance to see great filmmakers stretch and test their own limits. It felt like Tarantino and Rodriguez were using Grindhouse as an opportunity to really flex their creative muscles, and tell stories that wouldn't necessarily fly in their slightly-more-mainstream films. The first Machete film was an extension of that, with Rodrguez presenting a fully-realized vision of the over-the-top character he first debuted as part of a fan-favorite fake (at the time) Grindhouse trailer. With MACHETE KILLS though, you have to wonder if this is less about Rodriguez really innovating, and more about him just sort of screwing around. I don't mean that in a purely negative way ... but Machete Kills feels like, perhaps, Rodriguez went for the everything-and-the-kitchen-sink approach to the detriment of actually making a great movie.

MACHETE KILLS very quickly becomes completely insane, and only gets crazier as it goes. I'll say this: the movie begins in rather mind-blowing fashion, kicking off with a "Coming Attractions" trailer for a *third* Machete movie - "Machete Kills Again ... In Space." Yes, you heard me. And yes, this trailer is awesome and just completely whacked out.

But here's the weird thing ... while that trailer plays out like an extended gag, Rodriguez soon shows that he's actually pretty damn serious about it. Without spoiling too much, Rodriguez legitimately builds towards a Machete-in-space movie with MACHETE KILLS. And he strains and bends over backwards to get there. And maybe that's part of the problem ... Rodriguez seems to think there's nothing funnier or more entertaining than the idea that, yep, this is all actually leading up to a Machete-in-space movie. But he sort of undermines the so-random-its-hilariousness of that scenario by creating a very, very convoluted plot to get there.

The movie is packed to the brim with characters and plot points, some more memorable than others. First off though, Danny Trejo is once again quite simply badass and awesome as the title character. In fact, I still get a kick out of the fact that the sixty-something, craggy-faced Trejo actually gets to star in an action film and kick ass like he does as Machete. All other factors aside, Rodriguez inherently understands why Danny Trejo is a badass, and understands how best to have him do and say awesome things. Trejo just keeps getting older and more craggy, and it's increasingly obvious when a stuntman is filling in for him in fight scenes. But somehow, the older he gets, the more awesome it is to imagine the man kicking ass and just becoming increasingly badass and invincible with age. The movie's best running gag plays off this very concept - that Machete is impervious to pain and death in a quasi-supernatural manner. When one adversary tries to hang him, the noose simply has no effect on Machete's tree stump-like neck. It's the non-Trejo characters that are more of a mixed bag ...

My favorite new addition to the cast is probably Amber Heard as the fantastically-named, beauty queen-slash-secret agent Ms. San Antonio. Between this and Drive Angry 3D, I'm convinced that Heard needs to just be in every grindhouse-style action movie made from here on out. She just has a perfect understanding of how to do these kinds of roles - with just the right level of self-aware tongue-in-cheekness. The best is when Heard gets to spar with another B-action queen in Michelle Rodriguez. M-Rod is in the movie for far too short a time, but she definitely spices things up when she becomes more prominently featured in the thirds act - and her back-and-forth banter with Heard is a highlight.

Meanwhile, Charlie Sheen (or "Emilio Estevez" - his real name that he's billed as here), is entertaining as the by-god President of the United States - a foul-mouthed, womanizing POTUS who is pretty much, well, Charlie Sheen. And it's great to see a small but crucial role from the great Tom Savini.

On the other hand, MACHETE KILLS is filled with fun and capable actors playing somewhat pointless parts. Demian Bichir feels way too overqualified to play Mendez, a criminal mastermind suffering from multiple personality disorder. I'm a big Bichir fan, and he elevates the character ... but Mendez is a prime example of the movie's tendency to overindulge and try to do too much without enough real payoff. Bichir is entertaining, but by his fifth or sixth personality change, I was over it. Same for the identity-shifting assassin character played in turn by Walton Goggins, Cuba Gooding Jr., Lady Gaga, and Antonio Banderas. I would have rather seen an actor like Goggins really get to sink his teeth into a substantial part than be part of this somewhat wearisome gimmick character. Same for Banderas. And hey, Lady Gaga shows some nice potential. She fits right in as a grindhouse femme fatale. Less natural is Sofia Vergara as masochistic madame Desdemona. Her character feels shoehorned into the film, and Vergara just seems a bit awkward - even if her chest-mounted machine guns are sort of hilarious. And finally, there's Mel Gibson as uber-villain Voz. Gibson gives it the ol' college try, and he's more palatable than usual when playing a villain we're *supposed* to hate. But his villainous monologues get very old very quick, and the scenes in which Gibson gets the spotlight are just plain draggy - a cardinal sin in a movie called Machete Kills.

Don't get me wrong, MACHETE KILLS has plenty of great, over-the-top moments, and it's mostly a lot of fun. Trejo doesn't say much, but he kills the one-liners as only he can, and he brings the badassery in heaping helpings. Heard and Michelle Rodriguez are worthy supporting players, and along with Sheen are the standouts in an eclectic and overloaded cast. And the Machete-in-space stuff is pretty priceless. Even if Machete Kills dampened my enthusiasm for the franchise just a bit, the idea of one more, balls-to-the-wall intergalactic outing is enough to re-ignite my excitement. The teasers we get in this one are just bat$#%& insane. Still, Machete Kills is proof that it ain't exactly easy to translate five minutes of kickass trailer into an hour-and-a-half of kickass feature film. With a trailer, the more awesome and crazy that's packed in, the better - sensory overload is the goal. But a full-length feature demands a little something more, and in some ways, a little less. Restraint *can* be a good thing, even in an over-the-top grindhouse flick. Machete Kills, while still fun, funny, and highly entertaining, could have benefited from a little more focus. It needed more of a reason to exist beyond just being a bridge towards Machete going sci-fi. Rest assured though, when Machete does rocket up to the stars to lay waste to some cosmic suckas, I'm all in, baby.

My Grade: B

ZERO CHARISMA Is Great Geek Cinema

ZERO CHARISMA Review:

- Zero Charisma is a great little indie comedy that is pretty much a must-watch if you are, were, or have ever been, at all, a nerd, geek, or dork. It's one of the best and truest movies about geekiness ever made. Why do I say that? Because we live in a world where geeks are cool, where everyone claims to be a geek, and where the most-watched comedy on TV is a show about geeks - albeit a super-cartoonish and sort of obnoxious regression to the days of Steve Urkel. Between the adorkable nerds of The Big Bang Theory and the hipster-cool nerdiness of The Nerdist lies a more complicated reality: nowadays, being a geek can be cool, sure ... but there's also, often, painful reasons why people develop geeky obsessions. That, I think, is why there's sometimes a rift between true-blue geeks and new-school hipster-geeks. Traditionally, nerds suffered for their status. They liked things that no one else liked. They were outcasts and punks. They were derided for their strange and decidedly non-mainstream passions. And ZERO CHARISMA pulls no punches in telling the story of an uber-nerd who clings desperately to the worst kind of geeky tendencies.

As played somewhat brilliantly by Sam Eidson, Scott is like a relic of an older era of geekdom. A big, hulking dude with a mismatched, squeeky voice, Scott dresses in 90's-style geek/goth metal gear, matching cargo shorts and black death metal screen T's with fingerless gloves and the kind of black duster trenchcoat that was frowned upon post-Columbine. It's easy to imagine that the 30-something Scott has dressed the same since high school. And it's easy to see that he hasn't changed much, in general, since those days. He lives with his snappish grandmother, and seems happy to let her do most of the household heavy lifting (and he pays no rent). His room is plastered with posters and figurines. He works at a dead-end job at a donut shop (he got fired from his previous job at a hobby store). And he lives for, above all else, his weekly game nights, in which he gathers his nerdy friends, and leads a Dungeons & Dragons-esque game of his own creation.

The game is Scott's baby. He spends his days working on scenarios for it, and refuses to ever miss it or let a weekly session get cancelled. To that end, Scott treats his fellow players less like friends and more like minions. When one of the players has to drop out of the game, in an effort to patch things up with his wife, Scott takes it as a personal affront - showing minimal sympathy. But a player dropping out sets the stage for the central conflict of the film: in search of a new player, Scott runs into Miles - a glasses-wearing geek who seems like a perfect fit for the game. But Miles, as it turns out, is a different breed of geek from Scott. Miles has a cute girlfriend, a swanky apartment, and Hollywood connections (through his work as a writer for the "Geek Chic" pop culture website). Miles is, in short, the picture of the modern hipster-geek, and in many ways the antithesis of Scott. While the two start out as friends, it isn't long before Scott declares Miles to be his nemesis.

ZERO CHARISMA walks a fine line in its depiction of Scott. On one hand, he's sort of a jerk. On the other hand, there's a purity to him that you have to sort of respect. There's no drive in Scott to be cool, and he isn't into what he's into because of anyone else. His passion comes from within, and hey, that's something to be admired. On the other hand ... Miles has drive, he has ambition, he knows what he wants out of life. And yet, there's something not quite genuine about him. He seems a little too pleased with himself, a little too smug. Miles' presence, in a way, makes Scott a bit easier to root for. Scott is the guy that got left behind in the great geek revolution. Through Miles, he begins to realize exactly how left behind he really is.

There's some great, understated humor in the film, but also a lot of heart. The feeling of authenticity in these characters goes a long way to making the awkward moments all the more wonderfully awkward, and the emotional moments all the more gutting. There's tons of great geek-humor: discussions about the relative speeds of various sci-fi spaceships, Scott's stubborn assertion that he came up with the idea for The Matrix, and the strange but hilarious relationship between Scott and his even nerdier best-friend, Wayne (who sports the geekiest mustache since Kip from Napoleon Dynamite). At the same time, the movie doesn't present the glossy, Big Bang version of geekdom. There's a real, undercurrent of hurt and pain that colors the movie. I'd compare it to TV's seminal Freaks & Geeks. Basically, Zero Charisma doesn't feel like a bunch of slick writers doing their version of what geekiness might be like. This one clearly comes from a real place in the heart of filmmaker Andrew Matthews.

The movie was crowd-funded and made on a low budget, but it actually looks really good. Matthews does a great job of capturing the smaller moments, but he also escalates things and gives the action a semi-epic feel as the story builds to a crescendo.

My guess is a lot of geeky-types who watch this one will see something of themselves in both Scott and Miles (I know I did, to an extent). And the way that Zero Charisma perfectly captures that dichotomy of nerdiness is pretty much pitch-perfect. For that reason, anyone who's ever felt even just a little bit geeky owes it to themselves to check out this gem.

My Grade: A-

CAPTAIN PHILLIPS Is Uber-Intense Stunner

CAPTAIN PHILLIPS Review:

- The success of CAPTAIN PHILLIPS is a tribute to two things. One is the directorial prowess of Paul Greengrass. This is a guy whose reputation has perhaps taken a hit due to the rash of less-skilled imitators that he's spawned. But Greengrass is the real deal, and he proves it again here. Second is the amazing, continued ability of Tom Hanks to push himself and take his acting to new dramatic heights. While Hanks is the consummate everyman, he also doesn't merely coast on that rep, and his knockout performance in this film is proof. It's one of the best-ever performances from Hanks - a stunning, nuanced, emotionally raw performance that seriously wowed me. The combination of Greengrass and Hanks is a potent one indeed. I honestly didn't expect it from the trailers, but CAPTAIN PHILLIPS is a total stunner - one of the best dramas of 2013.

The movie is based on the recent, real-life story of Captain Richard Phillips, whose commercial cargo ship was the victim of an attempted hijacking and robbery by Somali pirates, back in 2009. Phillips wrote a book about the ordeal, and now, Greengrass and writer Billy Ray have adapted it into one hell of a film.

Greengrass expertly builds up the tension in the film - and once things fully escalate, the movie becomes a total nail-biter. But before the conflict ensues, we get some telling looks at Phillips, his crew, and also of the Somalis who carry out the desperate heist attempt. Phillips is immediately a fascinating character, perhaps in part because of his blue-collar ordinariness. When we meet him, he's with his wife (Catherine Keener) in their quiet New Hampshire home. As they drive in the rain, the middle-aged couple worries about all things you'd expect them to: their college-age kids facing a tough economy, and the long absences that Phillips' duties require of him. Hanks plays Phillips as a meat-and-potatoes guy, but also a very smart guy - a guy who's very aware of the world around him. That awareness is there in the movie's DNA - as we also see set-up scenes in Somalia, where the dreary, existential dread of mid-life in New Hampshire seems like paradise, as compared to the ramshackle living conditions and violent, chaotic lifestyle that is a fact of life there. The film by no means paints the Somali pirates as heroes or antiheroes or anything like that. But it does give context to their actions, and gives depth to their characters. Finally, there's the crew of Phillips' ship. Overall, they're a competent, salt-of-the-earth bunch - but the film, again, takes pains to give the crew guys unique personalities. The characters all feel real and lived-in. It helps that the crew isn't populated with GQ types, but with guys who are 100% believable as world-weary union workers. It all ties into Greengrass' realer-is-better aesthetic. His movies contain big action and spectacle, but it all comes from a place of authenticity. The starting point is the real-world, and the quieter moments have a documentary-like aesthetic that makes the crazier moments feel all the more plausible.

And as things get crazy, Greengrass expertly escalates the tension to almost unbearable levels. There are a number of factors that play into this. There's a very interesting dynamic, for example, between Phillip's crew and the pirates. The pirates are obviously the aggressors - boarding Phillip's ship with machine guns and ill-intent. But there's also an unsettling inevitability at play - these pirates are essentially #$%&'ed from moment one. Even though we're worried for Phillips and his crew, the feeling that the pirates are in over their heads keeps building as the movie goes on. Even if they pull off the heist ... then what? Best case scenario: they go back home to an unforgiving, war-torn country that is all but devoid of hope and opportunity. Worst case - and most likely scenario - is that they end up captured or killed by the U.S. military, which has every intent of stopping the situation before it becomes an international incident. So the intensity in the film has many, many layers. As the on-screen drama keeps getting bigger in scale - as Navy battleships and military helicopters and snipers get involved - there's so much at stake for every principal character that you can't help but be on the edge of your seat to see how this gets resolved.

An unlikely star of the film is Somali-American actor Barkhad Abdi, as the pirates' leader, Muse. Skeleton-skinny, Abdi infuses Muse with a blend of misguided ambition and desperation. He repeats an upbeat-sounding mantra of "everything will be alright," but behind it there's a sadness, hurt, and anger. Muse is perhaps the most rational of his associates - others are violent and aggressive, one is a young teen who got more than he bargained for in this mission. What he and the other pirates likely didn't bargain for was being pitted against a tough, sea-hardened crew and their resourceful captain.

There's great drama to be had in the chicken-and-egg game that Hank's Phillips plays with the pirates once they've boarded his ship. He uses every trick in the book to try to outwit them and get them to think of him as their friend. But there's something more in the way Hanks deals with them. Yes, he's putting on an act, to some extent, in an attempt to save his crew. But he's also acting in a kind, decent manner towards the Somalis (well, as kind and decent as one can be with people trying to hijack your boat), and they seem genuinely taken aback by it. There's a fascinating clash of worlds here - Phillips is a "put your head down and work hard" New Englander. The pirates have an entirely different ethos - take what you can, because tomorrow you may be dead. It's hard to imagine a more pronounced culture clash. Later, as the military gets involved and the situation spirals out of control, we see those same ethos pushed to their extremes, until they bend and snap. Phillips gives in to the instinct for self-preservation, and the pirates trick themselves into thinking there's a way out of their impossible situation, as they find themselves backed into a corner by the full might of Western Civilization.

CAPTAIN PHILLIPS isn't an overtly political movie, but there's a ton to chew on in its subtext. So rarely do all characters in a film feel so fleshed-out and three-dimensional. Ultimately, the pirates are the film's de facto villains. But the film also forces you to think of its plotline as more than just your typical USA: good, Others: bad narrative. There's a nuance and complexity here that's admirable.

But let me get back to Hanks for a second. It's funny, because going into the film, I found his heavily-accented New England dialect to be sort of comical, judging from the previews. "We ah being boarded" became a bit of a running joke. But the reality is: in context, there's nothing cartoonish about Hanks here. In fact, there's so much subtlety and so much humanity to his performance that I was increasingly impressed as the movie went on. But what sealed the deal for me that this was an all-time great piece of acting was the film's final ten minutes or so, in which Phillips finally just breaks down after the traumatic events he's been through. This stretch of the film's final act is just jaw-droppingly powerful stuff, and it's all Hanks. The way he depicts a level-headed, almost stoic man lose his $#%^ is flat-out chill-inducing, to the point where I wanted to reach out and hand the man an Oscar right then and there. It might just be the best work of Hanks' career.

And Greengrass ... like I said, he's often imitated, but what the wannabes lack is his seeming complete command and control over even the most subtle shaky-cam movements. With Greengrass, it never feels like shaky-cam for the sake of it. Instead, you feel like you're in the hands of a guy with a very precise handle on what he's trying to accomplish. The guy is just really, really good, and he moves from small-scale slice-of-life stuff to huge-scale action in a way that's so seamless, it's amazing.

CAPTAIN PHILLIPS is right up there as one of the best of the year to date. Coming only a week after the epic Gravity, it makes for one hell of an October one-two punch.

My Grade: A