SELMA Soars With Still-Relevant Vitality

 SELMA Review:

- And this also," said Marlow suddenly, "has been one of the dark places of the earth." 

I often think of this quote from Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness when I think about the United States. Our popular mythology paints America as the greatest country in the world, a place where freedom reigns and opportunity is there for any to seize. Indeed, America is yea land of great promise and unlimited potential. But too often, we forget that our country was not born of innocence. America's story is not one of immaculate conception, but of a long and evolving struggle to overcome and move beyond the sins of our past. In just the last fifty years, America has struggled to overcome a shadow of racism, of bigotry, and of oppression - and echoes of that recent past still reverberate today. It's hard to watch SELMA and not think of the unrest that has gripped the country over the last year, in places like Ferguson. It's hard to watch SELMA and not think of how, only fifty years ago, large parts of the country were still segregated, and large swaths of its African-American population were actively being denied the right to vote. But it's also hard to watch SELMA and not come away from it oddly optimistic. America is imperfect - it was plagued by injustice and it is plagued by injustice. But in large part thanks to the efforts of people like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., America is a better place now than it was then. This is a country that, for all its faults, was and is a place where individuals can make a difference, regardless of who they are, or where they come from. This is a country that can change based on the will of the people, that is in a continual state of self-repair. This is a country that was and is, perpetually, moving forward. SELMA brilliantly captures a moment where America decided to move forward - to march towards progress in a way that could not be denied. The film is a moving, inspirational story that also happens to be a cinematic tour de force. Filled with phenomenal performances, and impeccably directed by Ava DuVernay, SELMA is one of the absolute must-see films to come out of 2014.

I was not at all familiar with DuVernay prior to seeing SELMA, but she makes a huge impression here. The film is just incredibly well-crafted. The narrative wisely avoids giving us a drawn-out MLK biopic, instead focusing entirely on the events surrounding the 1965 protest march that King and his supporters led in Selma, Alabama, with the goal of securing equal voting rights for African-Americans. Even though the film gives us only a snapshot of King's life, it's a snapshot that gives us a wide breadth of information about the man and what makes him tick. We see the sense of purpose that drives King forward, as well as the doubts that haunt him in his darker moments. We see the struggles in his marriage to his wife Coretta, and how the threat of exposing his infidelities is dangled in front of King by the FBI - should the need arise to take him down a peg. We see the delicate relationship between King and President Lyndon B. Johnson - who likes that King is a non-violent activist, but who is also in no rush to make sweeping legislative reforms while preoccupied with the budding conflict in Vietnam. The film tells us so much about MLK the person, even without telling his entire life story. Instead, it shows him preparing to mount his biggest and most politically volatile demonstration to that point, and shows us the moment in time when he became more than just an activist, but perhaps the single most important and influential figure in the entire country - maybe the world. 

DuVernay imbues the film with an intelligence that is refreshing and commendable. She doesn't shy away from getting into the weeds when it comes to the issues - but that attention to detail makes the film not only more credible, but all the more fascinating as well. SELMA really gives a thorough - and thoroughly engrossing - account of what the national political climate was like at the time of King's march. We see the march not just from King's vantage point, but from that of LBJ and his office, as well as from Alabama governor George Wallace - who was virulently anti-civil rights and anti-King. But the film is also sweeping and moving and emotional. Not because it's unnecessarily maudlin, but because it conveys in full the power and symbolism of the march, and what it meant for the people of Selma, Alabama, and the country as a whole. DuVernay displays a real sense for visual sweep, filling her film with chill-inducing shots of the march, of MLK's speeches, and of people coming together in support of his cause. There's also a real sense of horror in the film as well. Scenes of violent police brutality and murder are genuinely disturbing and scary. But they are necessary, in that they provide a visceral reminder of the kind of flagrant abuse-of-power that King and his cohorts were fighting to put an end to. 

David Oyelowo is just plain incredible as Martin Luther King. Oyelowo is an actor who has become a Hollywood mainstay in recent years, and one who's consistently turned in fine performances. But here, he raises the bar, big-time. This is great stuff - Oyelowo plays King as a flawed and weary warrior, a savvy political negotiator, and a skilled performer who knows how to crank up the gravitas when need be. In short, he (aided by a great script) at once makes King iconic, but also grounded and multidimensional.

The supporting cast here is also off-the-charts fantastic. The biggest standout to me is the great Tom Wilkinson as LBJ. He plays the former President as a cantankerous and stubborn pragmatist who, though not in any rush to appease King and his cause, still finds himself determined to come out on the right side of history. Watching Wilkinson's LBJ spar with Oyelowo's King and Tim Roth's smarmy George Wallace is one of the film's greatest pleasures. I also have to give credit where it's due, and mention that Oprah Winfrey absolutely kills it in a small but crucial part, playing Annie Lee Cooper, a Selma resident determined to vote, despite the state's efforts to prevent it. Carmen Ejogo is also quite good as Coretta Scott King - she has very justified tension with her husband, but also can't help but admire his drive for change, and remains a steadfast public supporter despite the issues in their private life. I also loved pretty much every actor playing the members of King's inner circle. Wendell Pierce as Reverend Hosea Wilson impresses, as does Colman Domingo as Rev. Ralph Abernathy - who delivers a soul-stirring monologue while sitting in a jail cell with King that is among the film's most memorable moments. Another of the film's best scenes involves Stephan James as a young John Lewis (who later went on to become - and still is - a long-serving US Rep), in which Lewis provides some much-needed motivation to King to help renew MLK's faith in their cause. Lewis was a leader of the SNCC (Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee), a group of college-age activists who at times came into conflict with King's more measured approach to protest. Lewis uses King's own words to remind his mentor of the importance of their work, and the need to maintain hope that change is possible. It's a great, affecting moment that is another example of how the film humanizes King. It's not afraid to show the cracks that he sought to keep away from the public view.

SELMA is vital, important cinema - but it's also a fast-moving, gripping, wholly engaging and emotionally involving film. What I found really interesting about the film is that it dared to not just be the glossy, smoothed-over re-telling of this chapter in MLK's history. It shows us the good, the bad, and the ugly of the march on Selma. It showed King as a flawed but inspiring leader, and LBJ as politically-motivated to a fault, but also admirably independent when backed into a corner. It shows us an America that is fractured, hurting, bloodied - but also an America that has infinite potential and that can rise to the occasion just when things look bleakest. The brilliance of SELMA is that by showing us these people - and this country - without mythologizing or pulling punches, it in turns becomes that much more inspiring as a film and as a slice of our shared history. We can do better. The film urges us to hear that message - and does so perhaps even with a bit of a chip on its shoulder. "Look what we can do," it pleads, even as it evokes the likes of Ferguson and other modern parallels to the events of fifty years ago. The film doesn't just present the events of Selma as an over-and-done chapter of our history. Instead, it presents them as a living reminder of the work still left to do.

My Grade: A

THE HOBBIT: THE BATTLE OF THE FIVE ARMIES Concludes The Middle Earth Odyssey In Epic Fashion

THE HOBBIT: THE BATTLE OF THE FIVE ARMIES Review:

- And so it ends. After six movies and two trilogies, Peter Jackson's sprawling Tolkien adaptation is complete. And for that, I am sad - and, also, eternally grateful for what Jackson and his team have given us. Look, I get that a certain cynicism about Peter Jackson, The Lord of the Rings franchise, and this third Hobbit movie in particular has crept into both certain circles of fandom and the mainstream press. The Hobbit should not have been three movies. Peter Jackson has fallen in love with CGI at the expense of practical f/x with tangibility and soul. The Hobbit films have gotten so wrapped up with elves, dwarves, giant troll monsters, and the massive wars they wage that the titular Hobbit himself has all but gotten lost in the fray. I get it, and to some extent I agree with the knocks. But I also still love these movies, and I still think that they have a magic and a heart and soul that only Jackson could give them. You can pick 'em apart, sure, and god knows people have. But with these movies, and with FIVE ARMIES in particular, my doubts are overshadowed by a feeling that this version of Middle Earth - filled with amazing sights and memorable characters - is one of the greatest fictional worlds ever brought to life on screen. THE BATTLE OF THE FIVE ARMIES is, to me, a fitting goodbye to that world, a movie that's packed with action, but that also poignantly brings the series full-circle, and to a satisfying conclusion. I walked away with a smile on my face, but also with a lingering sadness that the end of this film marked the end of something truly special.

Over the course of multiple reviews I've talked about what makes Jackson's Middle Earth movies so uniquely great - but I'll talk about all of it just a little more here. Let me start by talking about the world-building. Maybe we take it for granted with these films, maybe we just figure that Tolkien laid so much groundwork, that ... of course these movies would follow suit. But look at how many fantasy and sci-fi film franchises feel like they take place in loosely-constructed, not well-thought-out worlds. We live in a cinematic age now where countless YA adaptations feel that a world based on a simple hooky gimmick is enough. But Jackson never took shortcuts with his Middle Earth films. These are lived-in, breathed-in stories, with history and lore and no detail taken for granted. Jackson and co. truly brought Middle Earth to life, and in my view that absolutely cannot be discounted. BATTLE OF THE FIVE ARMIES serves as an exciting culmination of all that, bringing together the disparate factions and peoples of Middle Earth in a way that's often thrilling.

Of course, part of the thrill of seeing these conflicts play out is in watching such accomplished actors pitted against one another. There's a climactic scene in FIVE ARMIES in which Middle Earth's various great powers collide in a confrontation with a returned and slowly-but-surely re-powered Sauron. It's Ian McKellan, Hugo Weaving, Cate Blanchett, and Christopher Lee all being completely and utterly awesome. Not just because they're great actors, but because over the course of six films these actors have wholly and unashamedly committed themselves to these characters. McKellan *is* Gandalf. Weaving *is* Elrond. Blanchett *is* Galadriel, and Christopher Lee - 92 by-god-years-old and still kicking ass - *is* Saruman, and hot damn, the man deserves some sort of award for being possibly the greatest and most badass person alive. In any case, these actors and so many others have really gone above and beyond the call of duty for this franchise. Specific to FIVE ARMIES, I of course have to mention Martin Freeman. In a year in which he's impressed as Watson on Sherlock and as Lester on Fargo, he again nails the part of Bilbo Baggins - bringing the same sort of understated expressiveness and comic timing to this role as he did to those others. Few doubted that Freeman could pull off a great Bilbo, but I think his excellence in these films is oft overlooked. In this final chapter, Freeman's Bilbo has ample opportunity to shine, even in the midst of many conflicts that at times overshadow Bilbo's hero's journey. In particular, I loved the interplay between Freeman and Richard Armitage's Thorin. Thorin, here, finally goes almost-full-villain - mad for power and corrupted by the cursed treasure won from Smaug. Armitage really kills it and nails the character's descent into darkness and eventual return to the light.

Freeman and Armitage's fantastic performances need to be talked about. So too do the incredible visuals of this movie. Yes, I agree with the masses who wish that the original trilogy's more "solid" look was kept for the prequels - which suffer at times from too-glossy CGI that hampers the believability of some scenes. At the same time, I feel like these complaints sometimes come at the expense of giving Jackson the proper credit he deserves as a director and visual stylist. For every moment in FIVE ARMIES where I wished that perhaps there was a bit less CGI, there are several more in the film that just plain wowed me with their visual splendor. There are so many scenes that are just gorgeously framed, that look like the Tolkien-inspired illustrations I saw as a kid come to glorious life. Jackson is still a master at doing those iconic storybook-esque shots that make the film seem *un-real* in the best way possible - fantastic and painterly and larger-than-life. Jackson's large-scale action is still in many ways the best in the biz. His sense for portraying size and scope is unmatched, even if chaos occasionally overwhelms geography and cohesion. But still, the big battle scenes in this film are epic as all hell. At the same time, there are smaller moments in the movie that just look and feel perfect. I'm thinking, in particular, of a quiet scene towards the end of the movie in which Bilbo and Gandalf sit and reminisce about the adventure they've had. Talk about storybook visuals - the scene looks like something out of a Hildebrandt painting. So to those who endlessly knock Jackson's visual storytelling abilities (especially those who don't also acknowledge his unmatched strengths), my perspective is: I don't think we're watching the same movies here.

On a related note, the entire production team on these movies needs major kudos. The costumes, the sets, the overall aesthetic of the Middle Earth films is just so, so good. And it really shines here as armies converge - each meticulously adorned in unique armor and clothing. These films are simply awesome to spend time with. And a huge part of that is the impeccable production and art design. And the music. I mean, that music. Howard Shore's various LOTR themes are modern classics, and these Hobbit films have carried on the tradition of having absolutely epic, atmospheric, at times haunting scores. I will say that FIVE ARMIES does an excellent job of mixing in classic Middle Earth themes at just the right moments. Conversely, I love some of this trilogy's newly-created themes. The Laketown theme is, to me, a new classic.

So what doesn't work in FIVE ARMIES? Let me list my main gripes that keep the movie from being *as* good as it could have been:

a.) Not enough Bilbo. In general, I agree with the general sentiment that The Hobbit didn't necessarily need to be three movies. I always liked the fact that the book was a simple fantasy story that then set the stage for a much more sophisticated and sprawling epic. But oddly, FIVE ARMIES feels a bit rushed, in that so much is going on that the trilogy's central thematic throughline (at least in theory) - Bilbo's journey - seems to get shortchanged. To it's credit, the movie comes back around to Bilbo by the end, and sort of makes up for leaving him on the sidelines for much of the movie's middle. But what did irk me a bit is that Bilbo's story and character arc is slighted in favor of stuff we didn't need. The movie has too much Legolas, for example. We got enough of him in LOTR - we didn't need even *more* extraneous scenes of him kicking ass in this one. There's also a bit too much time spent on Laketown's comically conniving villain Alfrid, who is better, I think, in small doses.

b.) Battles that lack cohesiveness. Late in the movie, as the film shifts its focus from the main battleground to more personal fights, I couldn't help but feel a bit frustrated that elements introduced in the war scenes never got proper resolution. For example, we see giant sandworms introduced by the evil orc army, but we never see how they are defeated by the allies. Later, I had to roll my eyes a bit when a familiar deux ex machina from the original trilogy returns to serve as the tide-turners in the war. Lame.

c.) Too much cartoon-physics. I get that this is Middle Earth, and I am aware that in LOTR we got Legolas sliding down the tail of a beast as if surfing. But that was one funny/kewl moment. In FIVE ARMIES, we get several of those moments, that come right in the heat of otherwise intense battle scenes. It's one thing when an entire sequence is staged with a certain aesthetic - i.e. the barrel scene in Desolation of Smaug (which I love). But to insert random videogame moments into gritty battles is sort of annoying.

d.) That Strider call-out. There's one super cringeworthy moment in the movie - a bit of unnecessary foreshadowing of LOTR that feels very forced. Should have been left out, or at least handled in a more organic fashion.

Those were my chief complaints, really. And though I have those grievances, they are still not enough to turn me against FIVE ARMIES or Jackson's Hobbit trilogy in general. I would have loved a single, simple Hobbit movie that related to the LOTR trilogy in the same way the book does. But I take these for what they are, and I can't deny that I've enjoyed them. And there really is a lot to love. In addition to stuff I've already mentioned - the great performances, the visuals, the music, the world-building - I could spend paragraphs giving shout-outs to all the stand-out stuff in this film. Here are a few. Evangeline Lilly's Tauriel adds a strong female character to the story, and she's just kick-ass in general. Lilly is great in the part, and you can't help but root for her worlds-collide would-be romance with the dwarven Kili. Billy Connelly! The beloved comic and actor appears in FIVE ARMIES as leader of a dwarf army, and man, I grinned bigtime when I heard that distinctive Scottish-accented voice rally his diminutive troops to battle. Lee Pace is also, again, sort of great as Elven king Thranduil. The Piemaker does a great job at playing the stoic, emotionally-distant monarch. Mark Hadlow as elder dwarf Dori is also great. He's sort of the heart and soul of this trilogy, in a way. Finally, I love the movie's ending. It's a perfect segue into Lord of the Rings, and it made me want to immediately go and watch the LOTR trilogy. Jackson manages to make the ending comforting and poignantly sentimental, all while hinting, slightly ominously, at dangers yet to come.

It's been quite the ride. I think back to the release of the original LOTR trilogy, and remember each of those films being a true pop-cultural mega-event. I was too young to have seen the original Star Wars trilogy in theaters at the time of their release - and these films felt like that sort of monumental moment for me. Not only that, but as a kid I'd read and loved and become perhaps slightly obsessed with Tolkien's fantasy novels, and seeing those stories realized on-screen in such epic fashion was an undeniable rush. The fact that, after so many fits and starts, Jackson and key cast members returned for The Hobbit - it was an unexpected bonus. And though these films have not been the masterpieces that the LOTR films were and are, they have been true pleasures nonetheless. To be able to visit Middle Earth again, to be able to go back to this world, to see these characters again - it's been not just fun, but in it's own way, sort of magical. As I said, you can critique and pick apart these films, but man, if you can't see the magic that happens when Sir Ian McKellan dons his wizard's cloak and becomes Gandalf the Grey ... you might need to turn in your film-fan card. I only hope that we continue to see genre films - be they from Jackson or others - that carry on the tradition of what Jackson and his team did with their Middle Earth odyssey. But what's special about these films is that they now exist as a sort of portal to this world. For years and decades to come, people will revisit this cinematic world when in need of some of that magic. They'll watch as a reminder that even the smallest and unlikeliest of creatures can make a difference. They'll watch when in need of fellowship, fantasy, and great adventure.

My Grade: A-

INHERENT VICE Is a Long, Strange Trip

INHERENT VICE Review:

- Paul Thomas Anderson seems to be in the "I'll damn well do what I please" stage of his career. Okay, so maybe he's sort of always been there, in his way. But INHERENT VICE continues what Anderson's previous film, The Master, started. It feels like a free-form meditation on ... something, with Anderson mostly content to just play with his eclectic cast of characters and see what happens. Should nothing in particular result? Fine by him. That's a big difference versus the thunderous statement of purpose that was There Will Be Blood - still, to me, one of the greatest films of the last few decades. Anderson is still absolutely at the top of his game in terms of craftsmanship. INHERENT VICE is so thick with smoky/hippie atmosphere that it's practically a cinematic contact high. And certainly, the film's plot - an adaptation of the Thomas Pynchon novel - is a neo-noir journey down the rabbit-hole that lends itself to a loose, more free-form sort of storytelling. It's The Long Goodbye meets The Big Lebowski. It's 1970, and it's the last gasp of the free-love, free-dope hippie community of Los Angeles before the times they go a'changin'. And Anderson paints this world in vivid, smoky hues - in 70 millimeter film, it all looks amazing. But while the scene is brought to life, and the shaggy-dog noir story rife with moments of tripped-out brilliance, I still wonder whether the movie is missing a certain something that could have tightened it up into an out-and-out classic. Again, it's that feeling that Anderson is content to sort of just play in this world, not so much concerned with taking the parts and fashioning them into a cohesive and thematically-impactful whole. There's a lot to love about INHERENT VICE, but it also feels like it could have offered more beyond leaving the audience feeling like they've just lived through a crazy fever-dream.

Let me preface by saying that not only am I a huge PTA fan in general, but I also have a huge affinity for sun-soaked neo-noir. I love this genre, and I love the ability it affords a storyteller to tell a free-roaming yarn where part of the point is that nothing quite adds up. INHERENT VICE falls squarely in that tradition, sending its protagonist - doped-out private detective Larry "Doc" Sportello (Joaquin Phoenix) on a strange, spiraling search for a real-estate mogul at the center of a SoCal crime conspiracy. Along the way, Doc encounters all manner of shady characters, corrupt cops, femme fatales, false leads, dead ends, and people who just plain want him dead.

On paper, and as I'm writing this, it all sounds pretty fantastic. And it's true, sort of: INHERENT VICE is rich with great moments and memorable individual scenes. The raggedy narrative takes the form of the film's barely put-together anti-hero PI - loosely cobbled-together, eccentric, and hard to get a read on. The film's scenes often work wonderfully as self-contained vignettes, as Doc has mesmerizing, strange, and often hilarious encounters with a motley crew of weirdos, burn-outs, and bottom-feeders. But the film also takes on a sort of self-indulgent quality, stretching out scenes long past their ideal expiration dates, and letting Phoenix sort of go off the rails in his portrayal of Doc.

Phoenix is one of the best actors working today. Maybe *the* best. But what made his performances in films like The Master and Her so powerful and effective was that his natural weirdness and eccentricity served as a layer behind a facade of normalcy, of being an everyman. In The Master he was the wounded spirit of American soldiers home from war. In Her he was the emotionally crippled soul of modern man in a world more about connection with things than with other people. Here, his Doc is just Doc - there's no pretense about who this guy is. He's a larger-than-life noir character in the vein of Philip Marlowe or The Dude. And playing that sort of character seems to give Phoenix license to just go all-out, balls-to-the-wall nutty. And PTA indulges him, lingering on long takes of Phoenix just sort of muttering, squirming, squinting, and smoking. Lots and lots and lots of smoking, with long, lingering drags aplenty. Don't get me wrong, Phoenix is great here, in his way. He's very funny. And he has the uncanny ability to say so much with just an arch of the eyebrow or a grimace. But the film perhaps goes *a bit* off the rails by indulging all of it. If you're into the whole brevity thing, then you might leave wondering if the movie's two-and-a-half-hour running time could have been cut short, for the better, had Phoenix been reigned in ever so slightly.

The movie's cast is populated with a litany of great actors. The best is Josh Brolin as square-jawed, straight-laced (at least on the surface) cop Lt. Detective Christian "Bigfoot" Bjornsen. Brolin absolutely kills it in this role, portraying Bigfoot as a guy who wants so desperately to be the man's-man ying to Doc's hippie yang that he comes off as oblivious to all of his own eccentricities. Brolin and Phoenix have an endlessly entertaining rapport, and the two play off each other brilliantly.

I was also really impressed by Katherine Waterston as Doc's ex Shasta - the trouble-courting hippie whose perilous relationship with shady mogul Michael Wolfmann (an entertainingly zonked-out Eric Roberts) is what initially lures Doc into launching his investigation. Waterston's Shasta is sort of the classic "out of the past" enigmatic woman, who waltzes back into Doc's life only to screw it up. Waterston does a fantastic job of making Shasta into a worthy motivator for Doc to get off his couch and back into the fray - making her into the hippie chick of a man like Doc's dreams and a man like Bigfoot's worst nightmares. There are a lot of other great actors who turn up in the movie. I wish we got more of Michael Kenneth William's black-power convict Tariq Khalil. We get a lot of Owen Wilson's recovering-addict rocker Coy Harlingen, and man, the scenes between Wilson and Phoenix are so thick with drugged-out haze that you may find yourself coughing afterwords. Wilson is always fun to watch, and though his character at times feels like a bit of a distraction, it's a welcome one. Also excellent is Benicio Del Toro as Doc's lawyer and confidante Sauncho Smilax, Esq. Martin Short pops up in a hilarious extended cameo as a loony co-conspirator of Wolfmann's. And Hong Chau is a scene-stealer as an affable young woman who happens to run a "special" massage parlor that's also part of Wolfmann's master scheme. Also of note: Jena Malone as Wilson's ex-addict wife, and Reese Witherspoon as a put-together Deputy D.A. Penny Kimball - who carries on a mismatched affair with Doc that seems to fill her with self-loathing.

Characters like Witherspoon's Kimball and Brolin's Bigfoot seem to tell a tale of a post-hippie world, in which a true-blue doper like Doc finds himself in a society that's generally become just as weird as he is. The film is set in 1970, and the hippie movement has already peaked. Doc and his ilk are soon-to-be an endangered species. The 60's are giving way to the conservatism of the 70's and 80's. The hippies have been demonized post-Charles Manson - Doc and his ilk are derided as cultists by the cops. And so Doc, with his enduring commitment to living out his days as high as possible, is the walking symbol of a dying breed.

Well, at least that's what I'm extrapolating. As in The Master, Anderson seems to sort of circle around these big themes in INHERENT VICE, but doesn't quite seem to decide what it is, exactly, that he's trying to say here. I've seen some reviews that further expand on some of the ideas I lay out above. But I think going much further is to read more into the film than what's there. Anderson, I think, gets caught up in putting forth an overall vibe of lingering, languid, stoned-out trippiness that he loses track of the big picture storytelling. The result is that the movie ends, and there's a feeling that the movie never quite came together so as to form a cohesive whole. The best noirs have a clockwork precision that informs the surface-level chaos. There are moments here where you can't help but smile at what Anderson's doing (and I haven't read the book to comment on how it works as an adaptation). You can see puzzle pieces falling into place in unexpected and funny ways. Sometimes. Sometimes the pieces just don't seem to add up. When they do, it's great. As with the slowly-unraveling revelation that Wolffmann is involved in a circular scheme, in which a cabal called the Golden Fang deals drugs and then profits from the rehab centers that the addicts inevitably end up in. But some elements of the film - like most everything involving Wilson's rocker, or the verbose, seemingly unnecessary voice-over narration - have too many moments that are head-scratchers.

I like a lot about INHERENT VICE, and it's a film that has a lot of greatness to soak in that's scattered throughout its sprawling running time. What keeps it from total greatness though is that the movie has a lot on its mind. It doesn't want to be pure, Lebowski-esque farce. Anderson seems to want to say a lot about the 60's, the 70's, hippie culture, cop culture, business culture, and the push and pull of liberalism and conservatism in modern America. I'm just not sure that he ever says exactly what he wants to say though. For that reason, INHERENT VICE can feel like a long strange trip without a true light at the end of the tunnel. At the same time, it can't be discounted, because the voice telling us this tale is one of the best damn filmmakers we've got.

My grade: B+

WILD Is Career-Best For Witherspoon

 WILD Review:

- Over the last few years, we've seen a number of "one-man/woman-against the elements" survival stories. And there've been some great ones, from the harrowing cosmic odyssey of Gravity to the oceanic adventure of All Is Lost. WILD isn't that, exactly. It's not so much about its protagonist's survival so much as it's about her spiritual awakening. Based on the memoir of Cheryl Strayed, WILD casts Reese Witherspoon as Cheryl - a woman who decides to embark on a 1,000 mile solo hike in order to find rebirth. WILD shares some elements with the recent spate of survival films - for one, it spends almost all of its screentime honed in on Witherspoon alone in nature. But in this movie, Cheryl's life is rarely in danger. What is at stake is her humanity. This is a character who's experience trauma, who's screwed up, who's wrecked her life. WILD is the tale of her trying to find a clean slate with which to start again.

Witherspoon has been on a mini hot-streak of late. She's always been good, of course, even great. But she fell off my radar for a while post-Walk the Line, only to re-emerge last year, de-glammed and dirtied-up, in the stellar movie Mud. This year, she turns in a strong supporting performance in Inherent Vice, and, most notably, she absolutely kills it here in WILD. This is the rawest and realest-feeling she's been in a film to date, and what works best in WILD are actually the small moments of struggle that typify Cheryl's journey. Witherspoon is at her best when she comically tries to begin her journey, but can't leave her home because she's completely weighed down by her overstuffed backpack. Or when she fumbles while trying to pitch a tent. Or when she playfully messes with some college kids she runs into on the trail. This is a new high watermark for Witherspoon - this is a performance all about the small moments - gestures, grimaces, stumbles, laughs - and there's a subtlety there that I wasn't expecting. It makes me look forward to seeing her in more of these sorts of parts.

I would have liked it if the movie focused in on those small moments, and let us piece together what, exactly, Cheryl was looking to escape from. But where WILD stumbles is that it sort of hits you over the head with Cheryl's backstory, laying it all on pretty thick over the course of the film's running time. We see through flashbacks how Cheryl's family fell apart - partly because of unforeseen tragedy, partly because of her own doing (drugs, cheating, etc.). The highlight of the flashbacks is undoubtedly Laura Dern, playing Cheryl's angelic mother. Dern is fantastic as always. But some of her scenes here - and just the flashbacks in general - feel a bit overwrought. Basically, the movie occasionally devolves into cheesiness, and that's a shame, because its lower-key moments are by-and-large handled quite deftly. At its best, the movie can be really affecting.

Director Jean-Marc Vallée (Dallas Buyers Club) seems to have a knack for capturing those small, humanistic moments. Supposedly he left Witherspoon to her own devices while filming certain scenes, hence the funny, naturalistic quality that colors moments like the aforementioned tent-pitching scene. He also is pretty adept at filming the picturesque Pacific Crest Trail, and showing both its beauty and the danger inherent in sections of its terrain. 

What Vallee stumbles a bit with here is tone. Again, he has so many great little small moments, I found myself scratching my head a bit whenever scenes would pop up that were more eye-rolling than thought-provoking. There's a long, strange sequence in which a writer stops Cheryl to interview her for a magazine about Hobos - despite her protestations that she's not one - that felt really off to me. There's another moment in which Cheryl becomes suspicious of a man who offers aid (with the threat of rape strongly hinted at), only to awkwardly discover that he's actually a genuinely kind, well-intentioned guy. The bait-and-switch makes a later moment, where Cheryl does in fact encounter a pair of dangerous guys - feel more groan-worthy than it should. The movie seems to constantly succumb to hitting major keys when it should be sticking to minor ones.

I enjoyed WILD a lot overall, and look forward to whatever Vallee does next. And the movie really is a showcase piece for Witherspoon. I'm just not sure if the movie 100% lives up to its promise - it has a couple moments I'd call great, but those are weighed down by too many moments that feel forced or tonally off. If you can get past all that though, there is a powerful message at the movie's core - a message about the ability of one person to start over and start fresh, and to put past traumas and tragedies behind and move forward through sheer will and determination. Even when the movie didn't completely sell me on that concept, Witherspoon's powerful performance did.

My Grade: B+

THE IMITATION GAME Is a Poignant Look at the Life of Alan Turing

THE IMITATION GAME Review:

- THE IMITATION GAME is a true-life story set during World War II, but it's also a film that feels timely, relevant, and that has profound implications for the world we live in today. In many ways, this is old-school, high-gloss Oscar-bait filmmaking. It's a true story - to some extent a biopic, it's filled with a cast of well-liked but awards-friendly British actors, and it nakedly makes a play to tug on your heartstrings. In some ways, it's easy to be cynical about this sort of film - the kind that rolls around every winter like clockwork. But the fact is, THE IMITATION GAME is so well-done - so well-acted, so compelling as a slice of history and as a biography - that it pretty much 100% won me over. This is traditional Hollywood prestige filmmaking, sure. But it's traditional prestige filmmaking done really well, and this is also a fine film that I'd consider a must-see. Sometimes high-gloss and British accents can be a good thing.

The movie features Benedict Cumberbatch as Alan Turing - the scientist who is in many ways the father of modern computer technology. During World War II, the British government enlisted Turing to lead a team tasked with cracking encrypted Nazi codes. Turing's solution - to build a complex machine that could analyze Nazi communications faster than any human - was initially ridiculed. But the machine not only proved successful, but in fact was the forefather of the coming computer revolution.

The film isn't just about Turing's role in the war - it's also about his personal struggles. Turing was gay, and it was a part of himself that he fought to fully come to terms with. Through flashbacks, we see Turing as a shy, lonely, and picked-on schoolboy, starting to realize that his friendship with a male schoolmate is potentially blossoming into something more. During the war, we see the adult Turing - now a quirky, socially-inept genius - trying not to let his sexuality undermine the important work he's doing. Turing fails to fit in with his colleagues, but he finds friendship in the brilliant Joan Clarke (Keira Knightly). When Turing sets up a test to find promising scientific recruits, Joan wows the usually unimpressed Turing. But because she is a woman, Joan is excluded by the government from being a part of Turing's team - at least openly. At Turing's urging, Joan signs up to be a secretary and then, in secret, works as a crucial part of his code-breaking unit. In some ways, Turing and Joan are two sides of the same coin - both are geniuses who have to keep parts of themselves hidden. Turing has to keep up appearances with his team and his bosses - eventually marrying Joan as a way to deflect suspicions about his personal life. Joan, meanwhile, has all the potential in the world to do great things. But during this still-relatively-recent era, she was denied to do so opoenly because she was a woman.

Cumberbatch is pretty much always fantastic, and he again excels here as Alan Turing. Certainly, the role isn't too much of a stretch for the actor - he plays the sort of maladjusted, antisocial genius that is squarely in his wheelhouse (fans of Sherlock will find Turing not that far removed from the Baker St. detective). Cumberbatch is in some ways a showy actor, and this is a showy part - his Turing is full of quirks and stammers and gesticulating gestures. But there is a sadness and a complexity there beneath the quirkiness, and Cumberbatch does a great job of showing us that in fairly brilliant fashion. It's yet more proof as to why the actor has, very quickly and very deservingly, become a fan and critical favorite.

The rest of the cast is excellent - positively filled with the kind of actors who make every movie they're in better for it. Knightly is quite good as Joan - she's a plucky genius who also recognizes Turing's need for friendship and companionship. She provides him with a human connection that puts his work - and his demons - in context. Knightly nails the part. Matthew Goode is also fantastic here. Goode has really been impressing me of late, most especially in last year's Stoker. But man, he kills it here as Hugh Alexander, the guy who was considered Britain's top code-breaker until Turing came onto the scene. There's initially a lot of tension between Alexander and Turing, but seeing their rivalry evolve to grudging respect and, ultimately, to friendship is one of the film's strongest arcs. And how great is Mark Strong? The dude is always a mega-badass, and he is true to form here as Turing's military liason. As if that wasn't enough gravitas, the movie also features Game of Thrones' Charles Dance as Commander Denniston, the military brass supervising Turing's top-secret mission. Dance is pretty much the best at playing the take-no-$#%& hard-ass, so, suffice it to say, he's great here.

For most of its running time, THE IMITATION GAME really sings from a storytelling and pacing perspective. The movie quite simply does a great job at making its at-times bleak narrative still feel rousing and inspirational during key moments. Where the film falters a bit is when it veers from the more straightforward storytelling that it does really well. More specifically, the movie's structure is a little strange - starting a decade or so post-war, then shifting to World War II (with sporadic flashbacks to Turing's childhood), and then ultimately taking us back to the post-war period, where Turing is in not-so-great shape following government-mandated medical treatments meant to "cure" him of his proclivities. The problem is that the time shifts don't feel completely elegant or natural, and by structuring the movie this way, it feels like we're missing what could have been a more poignant depiction of Turing's post-war downward spiral.

Still, I think the film recovers admirably from these slight missteps, and ends with a powerful closing sequence that hammers home the dichotomy of Turing's scientific influence vs. his status as an outcast and criminal, simply because of his sexuality. I've seen criticism of the film that accuses the movie of not addressing this theme fully enough, but I have to strongly disagree. Turing's status as an outsider is a running theme that colors the entirety of the movie. It's there in his social phobias that keep him from being one of the guys with his colleagues. It's there in the flashbacks, where he has to deal with an unspoken truth about his feelings towards his best friend. It's even there in his relationship to his machine. Not only in his drive to create a device free of human error and imperfection, but in his dedication to the machine as an all-consuming obsession.

Ultimately, what's remarkable about this story is how, at it's core, it's a narrative about disparate people coming together to do something remarkable. The code-breakers eventually rally behind Turing, despite their differences, because they all believe in the work they are doing. Cheesy? Maybe just a little. But it's also one hell of a message that we could all do well to remember. The other thing about the film is that Turing was an outsider, and he was an eccentric. But that, posits the movie, is something to be embraced rather than shunned. In fact, eccentricity is one of the chief places in which we can find true genius.

THE IMITATION GAME isn't an experimental game-changer or a boundary-pushing film from a narrative or aesthetic viewpoint. Like I said, it's a pretty classically-made Hollywood prestige film, and director Morten Tyldum excels at giving us lived-in feeling stately government buildings and lager-filled pubs and other British-isms that add to the film's aesthetic. But there is also a lot of depth to the narrative and a lot to chew on - and this is the rare World War II film that's not about combat, but about strategy and tactics and smart people trying to out-think the opposition. That to me is cool, and if that still doesn't sell you, the all-star cast, led by an Oscar-worthy Cumberbatch, should. There will be those who find fault in some of the liberties taken with Turing's story, but I think the film does a commendable job of putting his life out there on film. It's an important chapter in modern history, and an amazing life story from which we can all learn something.

My Grade: A-

TOP FIVE is Chris Rock's Annie Hall

TOP FIVE Review:

- Chris Rock is an undisputed champ when it comes to stand-up: for over two decades now, he's consistently delivered biting, memorable, drop-dead hilarious stand-up sets that have each become instant classics. But when it comes to movies, Rock has had less success. His previous two directorial efforts, Head of State and I Think I Love My Wife, were met with critical and box-office shrugs. But with TOP FIVE, Rock has found his cinematic mojo. For this one, Rock keeps it real - crafting a star vehicle for himself that is less high-concept silliness and more slice-of-life observational humor. This is Rock's Annie Hall, his Louie, his Curb Your Enthusiasm - and for that reason the movie works as both comedy and, at times, surprisingly poignant tale of a fading star trying to find dignity in a world that seems intent on denying it. TOP FIVE is gratifying because, finally, we get a film that captures the essence of Rock's comedic sensibility, and presents it to us unfiltered. If you've enjoyed Rock's stand-up (and who hasn't?), then you owe it to yourself to check this one out.

In TOP FIVE, Rock plays Andre Allen - an exaggerated version of Chris Rock - an actor and comic who, after ditching his best known role as costume-clad Hammy Bear, is attempting to direct and star in a Serious Drama about the Haitian Revolution. However, all the press wants to talk to Andre about his is soon-to-be-televised wedding to reality TV star Erica Long (Gabrielle Union). Erica - a vapid, fame-obsessed celebutante - is probably not the right woman for Andre. But in his own mind, he justifies the relationship by reminding himself that Erica helped him fight and beat his alcoholism - which, years ago, almost derailed his career entirely. But Andre begins to see the light when he meets Chelsea (Rosario Dawson), an NY Times reporter assigned to shadow him for a story. Chelsea, a single mother, quickly forms a bond with Andre - although their relationship takes a number of turns, as the truth comes out that Chelsea is not quite what she seems. Regardless, through Chelsea's prodding, we see the "real" Andre begin to come out of his fame-hardened shell. We visit his old inner-city stomping grounds (to hilarious effect). We see flashbacks as Andre recounts, to Chelsea, some of his lowest moments. We see that behind the sunglasses and flashy suits is a guy whose greatest, child-like joy is in debating Top 5 lists with friends (his go-to is the all-time greatest hip-hop artists).

By essentially playing a version of himself, Rock imbues TOP FIVE with a surprising emotional honesty. Andre can be an asshole, but there's an authenticity there that makes him likable and relatable all the same. The movie has an overall complexity that you don't see a lot in Hollywood comedies. More specifically, the central relationship between Andre and Chelsea is satisfyingly complex. There's romance and attraction, but there's also mistrust, lies, and other roadblocks in the way of these two being star-crossed lovers (not the least of which is Andre's impending marriage).

Rock seems comfortable playing Rock, and he has a great chemistry with Dawson. Dawson, meanwhile is absolutely fantastic in the film - this might be her best-ever role. Their banter while walking the streets of NYC definitely calls to mind classic Woody Allen - rather than build up the pair's attraction via obvious exposition, it reveals itself in small moments and delightfully charming back-and-forth conversation.

The movie's supporting cast is filled to the brim with greatness. Notably, Gabrielle Union is quite good as reality star Erica - giving the character multiple dimensions and making her more than just one-note. Additionally though, the movie is packed with fantastic and hilarious actors in smaller roles. Tracy Morgan kills it as a back-home friend of Andre's, as does SNL's Leslie Jones. J.B. Smoove is his typical brand of fast-talkin' awesome as Andre's manager, and Kevin Hart also gets in some great lines as Andre's agent. Cedric the Entertainer is a surprise scene-stealer as a perverse comedy promoter, and Workaholics' Anders Holmes has no absolutely no shame as Chelsea's secret-keeping ex-boyfriend. There are a ton of other great cameos, but the best one I won't spoil because it's too good. It's not so much the identity of the comedian that will surprise you, but what he actually does and says that will leave you in a gleeful state of shock.

And to that effect, TOP FIVE is intermittently absolutely hilarious. It goes to some pretty big, broad places with its comedy (the Cedric the Entertainer flashback scenes left me speechless), but there are also great little moments that capture the sort of spot-on observational wit that makes Rock's stand-up so biting and relevant-feeling. Rock has clearly been taking notes while watching the likes of Louie, et al - he captures a very similar sort of vibe here.

That said, the one thing I'll say about TOP FIVE is that it can be very tonally uneven. The switch-ups between more serious drama, more low-key observational humor, and more over-the-top gags do, mostly, work. But at times, there can be some jarring shifts, and some jokes that could have landed in a different context end up falling just a bit flat, because they are ill-timed within the flow of the film. Conversely, some of the more serious, more "adult" moments occasionally feel like just a bit much, because they feel slightly out-of-sync with what we've seen in the majority of the movie's running time.

It's a fine line, and certainly the classic Woody Allen movies that Rock emulates did veer between comedy and tragedy in order to create a unique mixture of both. And to Rock's credit, this really does feel like his Woody Allen film - a wryly witty, laugh-out-loud funny, emotionally involving story that is, one one level, about one man trying to find himself, but is, on another level, about, well, everything. Few comedians are able to put themselves out there in such a raw fashion, but that's exactly what Rock does with TOP FIVE. That makes this one of the best and most affecting comedies of the year. And as a bonus, you'll never look at __________ quite the same way again.

My Grade: A-

EXODUS Is Dazzling But Ultimately Hollow Biblical Epic

EXODUS: GODS AND KINGS Review:

- Let me start with this: Ridley Scott is one of the greatest filmmakers of all time. His list of stone-cold classics is long - he's directed not only some of the best, but most influential movies ever made: Alien, Blade Runner, Thelma & Louise, Gladiator. The guy is a legend (and he also directed Legend), and yet, in my opinion, he rarely gets a fair shake these days. People seem eager to take him down a peg, and critics seemed all-too-eager to bash his latest, EXODUS, before they'd seen it. There was a lot of early talk about the film's seemingly whitewashed cast, a controversy that continued up to and through the film's release. And Scott did himself and his movie no favors with his gruff, ill-advised response to the criticisms. Here's my thought: the casting in this film feels decidedly "off," and it is an issue that filmmakers need to seriously look at as they go into production on a movie. In 2014, we are more than ready for more diverse casts - in general, and notably in situations where the setting and characters are *supposed* to be non-white. It's strange and slightly troubling that all of the key Egyptian characters in EXODUS are played by white actors. That said, I also don't think that this is an issue that needs to completely dominate discussion of the film. Sadly, diversity (or lack thereof) is an issue that plagues many, many movies. I could start any number of reviews with a dissection of the film's casting from a diversity-perspective, but going down that road can often lead to an exercise in absurdity. Clearly, there are cases where casting crosses a line of inappropriateness. But where, exactly, is that line? EXODUS arguably toes it - but I also am not sure that it crosses it in egregious enough fashion to warrant true outrage, calls for boycotts, etc. I won't go into my exact reasons here. I'll simply say this: Scott and the rest of his team could have done better - they could have created this movie with more of an eye towards diverse and appropriate casting. But I also don't think that that these concerns need to negate all other discussion of the film. There's plenty more to talk about, and from here on out ... that's what I'll attempt to do. I'll just end with this: I suppose my original thought here was - as a huge fan of Scott, I'm not yet ready to burn him at the stake for some ill-advised decisions and comments. The man has done great films with diverse casts in the past. He helped bring to life one of the greatest female action heroes in cinematic history in Ellen Ripley. I think he can and will do better.

So ... EXODUS. In a year in which we've already seen one epic retelling of an apocalyptic bible story in Noah, Exodus arrives clearly ready to awe us with big, blockbuster visuals and a fantasy-epic take on the story of Moses. As compared to the trippy, surreal Noah, EXODUS is by far the more straightforward of the two films. The problem is it may be *too* straightforward. The film goes to some very dark thematic places, and poses a lot of tough questions about the nature of the old-testament God and the justness of the devastation he wreaks upon the Egyptians. But the film barrels forward at such a determined clip - trying to cover as much ground as possible in its 2 1/2 hour running time - that it rarely pauses to fully address the complicated questions of morality and faith it puts out there to us (Noah, in contrast, is almost fully *about* grappling with these questions).

In EXODUS, God takes the form of a wide-eyed ten-year-old British boy, who speaks to Moses in visions with an ominous, anger-laced, almost eerie sense of righteousness. This is a God who doesn't mince words, who shows no mercy, no quarter, and no pity, and who seems to spite the Egyptians for the fact that they worship other, false gods. In other versions of the Exodus story (i.e. The 10 Commandments), the Egyptians' faith in their gods seems affirmed by magical abilities (see: the famous scene, drawn from the bible, in which the Pharoah's magicians turn their staffs into serpents). But in EXODUS, the Egyptian gods are shown to be false: there are no magic powers, prayers to them prove ineffectual, and even the Egyptians seem less-than-confident in their potency. In fact, the Egyptians prefer science over faith - as the ten plagues devastate their people, Ramses II listens intently as a scientist provides logic-based explanations for the various afflictions befalling their people. Only when the plagues escalate - culminating with the killing of the Egyptians' first born - is there no denying that the plagues are in fact the works of a vengeful, all-powerful god.

In Noah, the devastation of the flood took on a new horror thanks to the visual force of modern f/x. The same is true here, as the plagues truly feel horrific and bloody and nightmarish. It's one thing to read vague bible verses listing out the plagues in sequential order. But to see rivers run red with blood, locusts devouring crops, total darkness, and firstborn children dying suddenly in the night ... well, it's a lot. Scott assaults us with the plagues, and does so without interjections in which Moses is shown asking Ramses to "let my people go." And so, the plagues come off as a merciless, genocidal punishment. Sporadically, Moses does question their ferocity.

But only sporadically, and soon enough, the questioning stops - Moses becomes God's loyal messenger, and the film seems to stop grappling with the concepts it had previously put out there. Ultimately, EXODUS comes across as thematically thin - we don't get a great sense of what drives Moses, what drives Ramses II, and what drives this version of God who is the film's most intriguing, yet elusive, character.

Christian Bale is excellent as Moses. Bale was born to do epic, and so he's a natural to be this most epic of characters. Bale gives a great sense of gravitas to numerous scenes - whether it's stopping an accusatory Ramses from lobbing off his sister's hand, to training the Hebrews to fight as an army, to commanding his people to have faith and cross the seemingly-uncrossable Red Sea. Moses is most intriguing though in the film's early going, when the script takes its time and effectively establishes the strong but slowly fraying relationship between Ramses and his adopted brother Moses. This entire early portion of the film is perhaps its strongest - early on, the movie takes its time and builds up the relationship and rivalry between Moses and Ramses, and this unique look at their relationship is compelling stuff. Later, however, the film leapfrogs through large portions of Moses' story. His relationship with his eventual wife, Tziporah, for example - Moses meets her while in exile, she gives him some furtive glances, and moments later they're exchanging vows and declaring their undying love for each other. Also rushed through is Moses' reaction to meeting his long-lost brother, Aaron - there is none, really. It's indicative of the movie's tendency to present something tantalizing but then brush over it without a real narrative or emotional payoff.

Joel Edgerton is getting the most flack from industry-watchers for being cast as Ramses II. He's a pale Australian playing an Egyptian pharaoh. However, that issue aside, he's great in the film. He plays Ramses II as a preening narcissist, a dude who broods whilst wrapped in a giant python. Edgerton has quickly become a favorite actor - I'd yet to see him play a villain, but he excels at it here, and is a co-MVP of the film along with Bale. Whitewashing aside though, the movie does have some oddball casting going on. Notable actors like the great Sigourney Weaver pop up (in her case, as Ramses' stone-faced mother), but barely make an impact. Same goes for Aaron Paul as Moses' right-hand-man Joshua, whose role is more extended cameo than anything of substance. Ben Mendelsohn is good as a corrupt Egyptian viceroy - a source of some rare humor in the film. But even Ben Kingsley seems adrift as an elder Hebrew, whose main role is to reveal to Moses his true origins.

This is, ultimately, the story of Bale's Moses vs. Edgerton's Ramses. And the movie does a nice job of setting both up for a battle of wills, culminating in a truly epic confrontation in the midst of the parting Red Sea. And Bale and Edgerton make for great adversaries - both act the hell out of their parts. The problem is that the bigger story around them gets glossed over -, and the larger themes raised by the story largely ignored - so that the film can focus primarily on its central brother vs. brother confrontation. It's a fine angle to take on the story. But this story, I think, demands something more. It's one of the defining stories about a vengeful God in the old testament. And Moses' role as God's messenger feels like it isn't explored to its fullest potential here. The fact is, the biblical story is in many ways a head-scratcher. And so part of the purpose, to me, of re-imagining this sort of story is to attempt to make sense of the narrative's lessons. How are these ancient stories relevant to us today? To reduce this story - with all of its complex questions of morality, faith, etc. - to a more standard war epic makes this movie feel less-than-necessary. The bible is allegory, and the allegory seems mostly lost here. And so, those looking for insight or meaning in this movie may not find much of it.

What they will find is a film that is truly eye-popping from a visual perspective. Scott is a master of creating rich, evocative visuals - and this movie looks amazing. In 3D, in particularly, the Egyptian landscapes come to life with towering structures, sweeping deserts, massive crowds filled with all manner of lavish costuming, and ornately-decorated palaces and halls that make Game of Thrones look like Days of Our Lives. This is old-school epicness, and the grandeur is often awe-inspiring. Scott also delivers big-time on the big f/x. The plagues are visceral and haunting. The precursor to the plague of Blood involves packs of rabid crocodiles chomping down on people and animals and leaving the water red with their remains - all conveyed in a fantastically-realized sequence. The parting of the Red Sea here feels truly, awesomely epic. Everything in EXODUS looks like a million bucks, and every penny of the film's budget is seemingly there on screen.

Scott is still the absolute best in the biz at epic visuals - even when burdened with problematic scripts, a Ridley Scott epic is always worth seeing on as big a screen as possible. Strangely, that's why a comparison between EXODUS and Prometheus may be warranted. Like Prometheus, EXODUS is mesmerizing to look at. But also like Prometheus, the film introduces *big* questions that it sort of shies away from as the movie progresses - leaving the film feeling oddly hollow.

Like I said, I am not about to count out Ridley Scott - either as a filmmaker or as a person worthy of admiration. EXODUS nails the visuals, but, like a few of other Scott's recent films, a combination of script and overall storytelling issues keeps the movie from achieving the iconic thematic resonance of classics like Alien, Blade Runner, and Gladiator. Still, Scott's visual imagination makes his movies must-sees for film fans - even when not firing on all cylinders, there is enough here to remind us why he's one of the best.

My Grade: B