Showing posts with label George Clooney. Show all posts
Showing posts with label George Clooney. Show all posts

Monday, May 25, 2015

TOMORROWLAND Espouses Optimism, Causes Cynicism


 TOMORROWLAND Review:

- There's a strong underlying message to TOMORROWLAND, and there's a lot, on the surface, that makes this a likable, easy-to-root-for film. This is a movie 100% designed to appeal to our sense of nostalgia for the future that never was, and for me - and I suspect many of you - that is a pretty easy button to push. It's funny - I think my generation may have a unique perspective on the all-too-quick evaporation of the utopian-future dream. Growing up on the east coast, trips to Disneyworld were a once-every-four-years, super-special occasion for me and my family. And with that sort of gap between visits, it was easy to spot - even as a kid - the way in which Disney's original vision of the future was changing in relation to how we saw it in our popular consciousness. Sure, the original vision of Disney and its utopian Tomorrowland was born of a post-war society - with visions of jetpacks and robot maids ingrained in the hopes and dreams of young Baby Boomers. But growing up in the 80's - raised on re-runs of The Jetsons and countless other new and recycled utopian visions - that World's Fair dream still felt very much alive. As a kid, even a passing familiarity with the darker, apocalyptic futures becoming popular in more adult sci-fi fare didn't faze me. That seemed like pure fantasy, with the utopian, robot-maid vision of the future seeming to be where we were actually headed. That was reaffirmed when visiting Disneyworld: Tomorrowland was still named as such in a very literal sense. That is, until it wasn't. A few years later, and Tomorrowland was re-branded as "the future that never was." Suddenly, as if almost overnight, the once-wondrous visions in Tomorrowland and Epcot Center seemed outdated and quaint. Flying cars, friendly robots, and colonies on the moon? In the emerging world of the internet, such flights of fancy seemed, sadly, obsolete. 

But man, the pull of that once-promised world is strong. And TOMORROWLAND, the movie, zeros in on that same feeling that many of us dreamers have had for a long time: where did it all go wrong? How did we go from a world where technology promised us an incredible, utopian tomorrow to a world where, at best, each new tech innovation seems only to amplify the worst aspects of our society? TOMORROWLAND argues that the original vision of Disneyland, Disneyworld, Epcot - and the whole post-war utopian dream - is not quaint or silly, but still valid, and possibly more vital than ever. And in a world that seems to yearn for hope and change, the timing seems apropos. It's a powerful, timely message, and on the surface a movie that beams that sort of positivity out into the world is one that I want to get behind. 

The problem is that TOMORROWLAND is 100% surface-level. It hammers home what's on its mind in excruciating detail, in the most unsubtle, on-the-nose way possible. There's almost zero subtext here - the film is heavy-handed and, I'm sorry to say, pretentious. It too often feels like watching a college freshman's essay on everything I said in my opening paragraph play out in movie-form, unedited and unfiltered. And I hate to say it, but this sort of thing has, by now, become a recognizable trademark of screenwriter Damon Lindelof. We saw it with the final season of Lost, we saw it with his follow-up series The Leftovers, we saw it with his scripts for Prometheus and Star Trek: Into Darkness. By now, a sci-fi script from Lindelof follows a clear structural pattern: 

a.) The premise of the film is introduced in a vague, mysterious (some might use the term "mystery box") manner. Even though there's nothing inherent to the plot that demands it be presented as a mystery. Everyman characters are introduced who are thrust into a situation they don't understand.

b.) The main characters ask a bunch of questions trying to solve the mystery, probably because they've met an all-knowing character (of mysterious origins) who soundly refuses to answer any of their questions. Repeat ad nauseum.

c.) The mystery is built up over such a prolonged period that whatever the "answer" is, it can't possibly live up to our expectations. Suffice it to say, the "answers" are revealed far too late in the story, and ultimately prove vague and unsatisfying. 

d.) This leads to both the creators and some ardent fans claiming that the story was never *about* the mystery, even though the vast majority of the movie/TV show was spent setting up said mystery. Since so much time was spent on mysteries, unanswerable questions, sketchily-defined mythology, etc. - this means that the endgame will undoubtedly contain either huge info-dumps or very hasty character reveals. 

TOMORROWLAND is incredibly Lindelof-y in just about every way possible. It's frustrating, because I think Lindelof does have a knack for stories that do a fantastic job of setting up their own premise and that create an intriguing sandbox. But seeing this movie only a week after the bar-setting Mad Max: Fury Road, it was hard to stomach TOMORROWLAND's contrivances. Fury Road so elegantly set up a rich fantasy world, told a powerful story, and layered its action and characters with thematic depth. But TOMORROWLAND is both a structural mess and thematically confused. Let me try to explain.

Okay, so here's the first thing about TOMORROWLAND. It's ostensibly about a bright, utopian vision of the future. Its premise involves an enlightened society created by scientists, visionaries, and dreamers - a real-life Tomorrowland - hidden away in another dimension, full of wondrous inventions and general awesomeness. But TOMORROWLAND, the movie, is actually pretty dark. We barely glimpse the movie's fictional Tomorrowland, at all, throughout the movie's entire run-time. Our main character, Casey (a really great Britt Robertson), is a teen girl who lives in a bleak, perpetually grey world - our world, America, 2015. She spends her time finding ways to foil the shutdown of various NASA locations - because in our dark and gloomy world, there's no place for a space program. Most of the movie takes place right here, in our world. So imagine The Wizard of Oz, except you actually see Oz for about ten minutes, and the rest takes place in black-and-white Kansas. We don't meet any of the dreamers who founded Tomorrowland or who eventually populated Tomorrowland. The only real remnant of Tomorrowland that we do spend time with is George Clooney's Frank Walker, who for 95% of the film is an insufferable grump. I meant it when I said this movie has structural problems. It spends so long on the "mystery" of the movie that it pretty much never gives us the good stuff - namely, the thing that's in the movie's title. It's why, despite the movie's final message of hope and optimism, I found it to be, in actuality, a pretty cynical-seeming film. By spending so much time showing us how much *our* world sucks, TOMORROWLAND actually undercuts its own intended message, and is dominated by a bleak tone that's contrary to what the movie actually seems to *want* to convey.

A lot of the issues here come back to the structure of the film having major problems. The movie starts and ends with an expository wraparound that feels completely extraneous - not a great sign. Then, the movie opens - for reals this time - with a very over-long prologue showing a young Frank first discovering the secret of Tomorrowland, after a detour at the 1964 World's Fair. Then we meet Casey, and a mysterious girl named Athena who's recruited Casey for a special mission. Early on, we get glimpses of Tomorrowland, when Casey finds a pin that, when touched, shows visions of the otherdimensional utopia in its space-age prime. But mostly, we get a road trip movie - following the mismatched trio of Casey, middle-aged Frank, and Athena - trying to get back to Tomorrowland while on the run from mysterious pursuers. Why are they being pursued? Why do they have to go back to Tomorrowland? Why did Frank leave in the first place after discovering it as a boy? What's up with Athena? All of these questions are dealt with (or not dealt with, to be precise), in an endless string of non-conversations that see Casey asking a bunch of questions, Frank doing the grumpy, I-just-want-to-be-left-alone, but oh-wait-I'm-actually-a-good-dude schtick, and Athena playing the Obi Wan role. This all leads to an eye-rolling third-act scene in which Hugh Laurie, as the ominously-named uber-villain Nix, monologues the entire plot, premise, and themes of the film after about two hours of "mystery box" storytelling. It's the info-dump to end all info-dumps. But what's worse, it's not just an info-dump, but as I said (to borrow a phrase I've seen in some other reviews), it's a theme-bomb. Hugh Laurie spells out, in no uncertain terms, exactly what the movie is about. 

It's a shame that Tomorrowland itself isn't more prevalent in the film. When we do see it in full - in the prologue and later via Casey's pin - it's pretty spectacular. And this brings me to director Brad Bird. Like many, I'm a big fan of Bird and think he's a pretty incredible (no pun intended) visual stylist. So it's no surprise that TOMORROWLAND is at its strongest when Bird has the opportunity to really let loose and go big. In particular, Casey's first full-on foray into Tomorrowland sticks out to me as a highlight, and as a demonstration of the promise of the film's premise. Brad's vision of Tomorrowland is a sugar-high realization of that utopian world that Disney promised us way back when: gleaming spires, jet-pack stations, hovering monorails, cascading fountains, space-age design, colorfully-clad citizens. It's a place buzzing with visual marvel and eye-popping innovation. Brad gives us a hyper-speed tour of Tomorrowland in a dazzling sequence, and it's worth the price of admission just to see this on the big-screen.

The film's other most dazzling effect is actually the fantastic performance of young Raffey Cassidy as Athena. I don't want to spoil too much about her character, but Cassidy is 100% believable as a girl who is older and wiser than she looks, and who is uber-competent and capable yet also supremely charming. Cassidy quite frankly steals the show as Athena. As mentioned, Britt Robertson is also a standout. Bird and Lindelof (and co-writer Jeff Jensen, of Entertainment Weekly) clearly wanted to make her a young-adult heroine in the Spielbergian mold. Single-parent household, precocious younger sibling (ironically played by Pierce Gagnon - who played a robotic boy on the TV show Extant), NASA hat that she has at all times, handy with technology? Check, check, check, and check. But hey, I'm a sucker for Spielberg kid-protagonists, and Robertson is great in the role - carrying a lot of the weight of the movie on her shoulders. 

But here's the other thing - and again, it's a question of weird structural issues: Robertson's Casey very quickly becomes a largely passive hero. And by the film's end, she's completely sidelined. It's indicative of how broken the movie's entire third act really is. But it's also a shame, because Casey is really who we're set up to root for the entire film. Not only that, but over and over, we're told (flat-out told) that she is special. She is "the one" who will save Tomorrowland from Nix. But other than just being generally plucky and idealistic, Casey is never given the chance to really do much of anything to live up to that claim. Meanwhile, Clooney's Frank hogs a lot of her spotlight, but his character's arc feels entirely forced. Because Frank's backstory is kept a mystery for so much of the film, his late-game about-face from grumpy cynic to world-saving hero is pretty unsatisfying, and feels unearned. Chalk up some of it to Clooney being miscast. The guy gives great intensity, but whimsey isn't really his strong suit. I kept thinking what a Tom Hanks or the late Robin Williams could have done with this role. Clooney doesn't seem well-suited to portray a guy who rediscovers his inner-dreamer. But the script also doesn't do him any favors. 

Clooney's oddly-intense performance also speaks to the general tonal weirdness of the movie. Like I said, much of the film feels oddly bleak for a story that espouses the virtues of utopianism. It really could have used some fun characters to make this feel like more of the swashbuckling, Spielbergian sci-fi adventure movie that it at times wants to be. It almost seems like Brad Bird is grasping at straws to mine whatever Spielberg-esque moments of real fun and adventure that he can from the dour script. That gives us moments like Casey's action-filled encounter with two over-the-top badguys (played by Keegan-Michael Key and Kathryn Hahn) who run a sci-fi nostalgia shop, Blast From the Past. Or her and Frank's daring escape from Frank's tricked-out house, as they face off with creepily-fun robotic adversaries. Both of these set-piece action sequences are fun as hell, and Brad Bird totally nails 'em. But the fun and humor of those scenes feel like they belong in some other, better movie. And both happen early on in the film. Ultimately, that sense of fun and adventure becomes drowned out by the script's dourness and pop-psychology preachiness. At its highest points, TOMORROWLAND is a rip-roaring, nostalgia-tinged adventure that feels like a mash-up of the best live-action Disney and Amblin films of the 80's. Which makes it all the more frustrating that so much of the film is a heavy-handed slog.

I've seen some people who enjoyed TOMORROWLAND lash out at those who didn't - the haters, it would seem, are in fact the same sorts of doom n' gloom naysayers that the movie lambasts. But that generalization is unfair. I love the *idea* of TOMORROWLAND, and I wholeheartedly dig the message espoused at the film's end - a sort of call to action for we as a a society to dream big and work together for a better future. I can get behind that. And certainly, I've long been inspired by the Disney version of the future, even once it resigned itself to merely being the future that never was. I mean, there's a vintage Tomorrowland travel poster hanging above my desk as I write this. But a nice message doesn't automatically make for a good movie. And this is a movie that repeatedly undercuts its inherent possibilities, by dwelling too much on all the things that it *didn't* actually need in the text. All the mystery-box stuff. All the heavy-handed thematic reinforcement. They ultimately seem to just get in the way of telling a good story that fully delivers on the movie's premise. The result is a film that actually feels cynically-made, in contrast to its purported message. 

So for now, at least, the best way to feel the magic inherent in the idea of Tomorrowland is still, I think, to go to the theme parks. There, the nostalgia-tinged, retro-cool vision of the future that Walt Disney and others envisioned can still be experienced firsthand, without all the other baggage that the movie brings to the table. And if it upsets you that the film's vision of a future run by idealists and dreamers is somehow being marred by critical reviews, I say take comfort in the fact that us dreamers and idealists will still be here dreamin'. One movie's quality isn't going to change that.

My Grade: C+

Monday, October 7, 2013

GRAVITY: Cosmic Survival Story and Mind-Melting Cinematic Achievement


GRAVITY Review:

- Yes, GRAVITY is a roller-coaster ride. But man, what a ride it is. This is a movie that demands to be seen on a huge IMAX screen, and in 3D. This is a film that is about evoking awe, wonder, and terror. Ultimately, this is a movie that will succeed with each individual based on their ability to immerse themselves in its cosmic universe. Personally, I was 100% gripped for the duration of the film. I marveled at what director Alfonso Cuaron was able to pull off here, even as the power of his images and storytelling blurred the lines between fantasy and reality. Rare is the movie that leaves you feeling like you've just emerged from experiencing what the characters experienced - not just emotionally, but physically. Rare is the cinematic adventure of this caliber.

Cuaron doesn't waste any time here. It positively flies by, and I was sort of amazed at just how economical the storytelling was. Movies and TV trained me to expect Gravity to, at any moment, hit me with melodramatic flashbacks to its characters' lives on earth, lengthy prologues and epilogues, or extended scenes of expositary dialogue. But Gravity is spare and on-point. It's entirely about what is happening in-the-moment, and about putting its audience in-the-moment. And so, some may wonder why there isn't more backstory for the characters. But to me, the bare-bones back-story was refreshing. The movie is about a very specific adventure, and it is laser-focused on conveying the immediacy and urgency of what we're seeing on screen. Very quickly, the film becomes about life-and-death-struggle, and it never lets up, all the way through into the final moments of its astonishing finale.

It's rare that after seeing a film I want to go and watch behind-the-scenes making-of docs immediately afterwords. But here, that was one of my first reactions upon the film's conclusion: "how did they do that?" Yes, these days CGI makes nearly anything possible, but CGI alone doesn't account for the seamless nature of Gravity's images, the almost complete lack of disconnect or disparity between the human actors and their environments. If someone were to say that Cuaron actually filmed the movie in deep space, it wouldn't seem altogether crazy. On a technical level, the movie is a marvel. But Cuaron is one of those guys who mixes technical wizardry with artistic genius in a way that few if any of his peers can. With his trademark long takes, Cuaron rarely deviates from the movie's you-are-there aesthetic. At the same time, the movie is "realistic" in its attention to detail and use of logic and science, but also mind-blowlingly artistic. Cuaron roots the events of his film in science, but he never fails to imbue every scene with retina-searing artistry - magnified even more so by the added immersive quality of IMAX and 3D. Channelling the spirit of Kubrick and Ridley Scott, Cuaron pays aesthetic homage to films like 2001 and Alien, but speeds past them in terms of sheer sensory assault. As an example, large segments of GRAVITY undoubtedly show the visual influence of videogames. Cuaron expands on the way that first-person games build virtual worlds around a player's field of vision, and uses that aesthetic to thrilling effect. Gravity has first-person scenes that feel truly next-level. Just as Cuaron borrows from the world of gaming, I wouldn't be surprised to see many games in the next few years borrow heavily, in turn, from him. Overall, the way that Cuaron frames his shots - the way he plays with perspective, field-of-vision, and movement - it's all clearly the work of a mad-genius mind that is operating on another wavelength from most humans. How is he visualizing all of this, and how is he translating that vision so completely to the screen?

The film is also more than just a literal adventure. There's a not-so-subtle subtext at work here that gives the movie an added dimension of being a spiritual journey and not just a physical one. And how could it not be? If anything is fodder for considering one's own mortality, place in the universe, and spiritual purpose in the cosmos, it's a story about being stranded in the void of space. Cuaron is pretty on-the-nose with his death/rebirth imagery throughout the film, but personally, I think the lack of subtextual subtlety fits with the rocket-powered tone and pacing of the film. Again, it seems to be in the interest of being economical. And it's a testament to the film's breakneck pace and edge-of-your-seat thrills that when Cuaron does stop for those quieter moments of symbolic respite ... those moments are powerful, memorable, and just as visually dynamic (if not more so) than when the action is going full-steam-ahead. I found the movie's spiritual themes to be just present enough to even further propel the main action, providing an added element of urgency and almost primitive, primal drive in our lead character's quest to get safely back to earth.

Speaking of which, that main character is Ryan Stone - played by Sandra Bullock. Stone is a rookie astronaut brought out to space for her technical and medical knowledge. She is paired with Kowalski - played by George Clooney - a veteran astronaut whose preternaturally calm demeanor helps to offset Stone's understandable nerves. Let me say this: I've never really been a Sandra Bullock fan. It's partly that I haven't loved the types of movies she's starred in, for the most part. It's partly that I can't recall ever being particularly wowed by one of her performances. But I went into Gravity with an open mind, willing to see if the actress could up her game to match the ambition of Cuaron's filmmaking. I came away hugely impressed with Bullock's performance, and as far as I'm concerned, this is her career-best performance to date, by far - blowing anything else she's ever done out of the water. The key thing here is that Bullock brings a realness and rawness that meshes perfectly with the immediacy of the film. I mentioned Alien before, and the first performance that Bullock's brings to mind is Sigourney Weaver's in that sci-fi classic. Not because Ryan Stone is anything like Ellen Ripley (far from it), but because both characters are (figuratively and literally) stripped bare while faced with terrifying danger and existential dread. Both must confront death head-on and choose to fight, to live. And Bullock does so with a rawness that I didn't know she had in her. I (and others I'm sure) have to reevaluate her as an actress post-Gravity. Clooney's character is there almost in service of Bullock. It's a simple role - Kowalski is the seasoned pro, the adventurer, the explorer - the guy who can laugh at death and danger and wax nostalgic about old girlfriends while working on precise projects far beyond the confines of planet earth. So yeah, it's basically Clooney as Clooney, but it's exactly what's needed in this film.

I'll also mention the film's score by Steven Price. It's a fantastic score - at times haunting, at times pulse-pounding - but always evocative of the awe and wonder of outer space. The fantastic music that accompanies the action adds immeasurably to the full-sensory-overload experience that is Gravity.

I do wonder, just a bit, about the longevity of a film like this. Stripped of IMAX and 3D and wall-to-wall speakers, does it still hold up as a film on the most basic level? GRAVITY isn't a film that has quite as much on its mind as, say, 2001. And it doesn't have the personality or badassery of an Alien. But Gravity is a different beast - it's easy to want it to be sci-fi-esque, to take on the elements of that genre that we associate with the aforementioned classics. But Gravity, while it does have that cosmic/spiritual element, is not sci-fi, and is not even a truly narrative or thematically-driven film. No - this is an experiential film - a breakneck rollercoaster ride that is about one thing: survival. Yes, it's about survival both on a micro, moment-to-moment level, and on a macro, big-picture, cosmic level. But just as the film's title suggests a primal force, so too does the movie as a whole feel primal, instinctual, fight-or-flight. The fact that Cuaron and co. were able to make such a lean movie that is, ironically, bursting at the seams with technical wizardry and astounding imagery - that, I think, is an award-worthy achievement.

My Grade: A