Maleficent, premieres as promised

It is officially real. 

90 seconds of Maleficent. 

Marvelous. Magnificent. Mystical. 

The cinematography is surreal, and we expect nothing less from the artistic visionary, Robert Stromberg (Avatar, Alice in Wonderland). I am intrigued by the editors' approach. There appears to be an intricate balance between realism and dream-like, poetic imagery. Lightheartedness and malevolence. 

The dark edge and ominous tone are expected, but nevertheless refreshing.

 It seems - this is mostly guesswork - the film has an intimate focus on the binary opposition of Sleeping Beauty and her fearsome antagonist. The complexity of this pairing, if successfully illuminated, would be spellbinding. 

Surprise, surprise. I am already entranced by Angelina Jolie's graceful enunciation; infused with innuendo and a burning sense of menace. The glimpse of her horned headdress among a shaken crowd is a sight for sore eyes and breathlessness. I simply cannot wait. 

I may elaborate a little more in the morning when my mental capacity is full - or shall I say - fuller. 

The sinister laughter, echoing at the closing of the trailer, is haunting. 

Maleficent, the menacing new poster

Earnestly speaking, I was starting to question the reality of this film. 

No poster, no trailer!

 My desperate mind was convinced that Disney is weaving an elaborate web of lies, which would not be entirely out of character, but that topical discussion is for another time. 

I can no longer contain my bewildering excitement !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Today, this post, celebrates - screams and shouts - the reality of a genuine and pure fantasy. 

A disney dream realised; my heroine shall morph into the ultimate villain. 

Angelina Jolie is Maleficent. She is!

I particularly like the scales on the headdress, fitting for the ultimate dragon lady.

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Jolie is a classic beauty. She exudes intrigue and mystery, a timeless enigma. 

The poster illuminates a darker, more complex and sinister side of Disney and that is surely welcomed.        In one still shot, it has captured the compelling presence of this persona. 

Her graceful posture, her piercing eyes, her cunning.

I shall be on the prowl for the trailer, which should be released within a day. 

Restlessly, I shall wait. 

Hell hath no fury like a fan's scorn. Disney. 

Love y'all

Pacific Rim (2013)

Here, the Jaegers glow almost... angelically.
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Pacific Rim is a big-budget, high-voltage action blockbuster done so damn right,
and it is, most undeniably, a lot of fun! This is a genre film masterfully crafted with earnest love and enjoyment, and Del Toro's appreciation of the genre is wonderfully infectious. 

Del Toro meshes fantasy, sci-fi, monsters and robots seemlessly into an endearing and entirely entertaining work of art. If one has seen the Oscar-winning Pan's Labyrinth, one would already be too familiar with Del Toro's boldly nuanced palette and his uncanny knack for visual spectacles.

In contrast, the Kaijus look entirely demonic. Some people may see profound poetic imagery, I see darn good CGI.
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 From the cuts of the sleek body suits to the mechanical designs of the robots, every detail is tendered with meticulous attention and artistry. Although the substance here is perhaps not deeply profound, I don't see a pointless Summer-flick.

I see a labour of love and refreshing creativity.
I see imagination of a whole other dimension and of a scale never before seen, and I am not referring to the distortions of 3D. *Sigh* We're not having this conversation again.

My point is, all that a story-teller truly needs is a passionately realised vision. A film that is self-convicted, and yet spirited and not self-important is a fine example of such magnificence.  

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Action. Reaction. Bigger Action. More Reaction. That is precisely how Del Toro paints his epic fight scenes.

 There's a particularly effective low-angle shot where the audience hides in a corner and observes a giant humanoid robot lift its feet almost rhythmically to avoid crushing  parallel highways, flashing neon lights, and seemingly miniscule palm trees. It is this same rich imagery and visual clarity that makes the battles so engrossing, so enticing and so very involving. With such resolute coherence, you know exactly who pulled what punch and whose limb was severed as a result.

 Most importantly, the grandness, audacity and excitement heighten with each successive frame, and whilst  we are only too sure of a typically sappy denouement, the stakes escalate to a feverish pitch as the bashing gets gritty, and the robots get down and dirty.

I live in Sydney, I could be deported for not including this shot. Then again, that would imply that this blog actually has significant influence, which... *Sigh*.

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Rinko Kikuchi gives the film a nice dropkick of gumption and human interest; her ass-kicking dominance in the sticks combat scene is particularly impressive. Idris Elba has that indescribably strong presence, and his imperative "TODAY WE ARE CANCELLING THE APOCALYPSE" is as bad-ass and memorable as it is unimaginative.

Charlie Hermann is, well,  the muscular white lead that every mainstream American action film needs. That sounds rather spiteful, what I really mean is that he is perfectly adequate. Plus, he and Kikuchi have great chemistry, and - to some extent - their relationship is admirably quirky.




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It has taken aeons to write this review because, as cliche as this may sound, Pacific Rim is grander than the sum of all its parts, including the epic and operatic score, and more than anything, it is infectiously fun!

Once and for all, Del Toro proves that fun is not synonymous with stupid by default.

Love y'all.

Psycho, Norman Bates and his beloved mother.

Foreword

Dear Readers, 

I earnestly hope that when this post is read, you shall perceive a character study constructed of empathy and insights, rather than bitter self-indulgence. 

Yours sincerely, 

Eric. Static. 

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Psycho is the greatest commercial success of Hitchcock's almost legendary career, and is also certainly his most iconic masterpiece. According to the recent biopic, it is also the famed director's greatest gamble. I suppose that is - coincidentally - very appropriate given that having a child is probably one's greatest gamble. Apparently, it is also most rewarding. Those who have read or seen We Need To Talk About Kevin may argue otherwise, but I digress. 

Now, where shall I start with Mr. Bates...

Norman Bates can be most succinctly described as a Mamma's Boy, however, this description is as overly simplified as it is apt.

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 The Norma-Norman relationship is complicated, to say the least, and I don't think I could adequately explore it without the help of beloved Freud. The Oedipal Complex sums that a boy's first spark of love or lust is inspired by his mother; the love suggestion is intuitive enough, as for the lust part, a boy's first recognition of a nude female is probably of his mother in the shower. 

Aside from its impeccable camera work, which suggests rather than imposes nudity and grotesque violence, the Janet Leigh shower scene - of less than three brief minutes - is universally and timelessly remembered for its insight into this complex. With each precise stab, accompanied by a score which rivals that of Jaws, the audience is horrified by the intense purge of prolonged sexual repression, and we are even more frightened when we realise that we, too, harbour recesses of such frustration. The only things missing are the situation and the urge. 

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Nothing leaves. Nothing is to change, really.

 From the shyness and social awkwardness of a boy trapped in his mother's shadow to the understated coldness that has manifested from her selfish selflessness; Anthony Perkins, in a spellbinding performance, has captured every aspect of Norman. 

Oh, just the way his tone shifts when Leigh's character suggests institutionalising his mother in 'some place' sends icy shivers down my spine. This sensation is, of course, ingrained by Herrmann's truly eerie score. Even writing about it makes me feel unsettled. 

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Talk about creatively misleading advertising. 

With every purposeful shot of the gothic establishment, Hitchcock draws the clear parameters of an almost two-dimensional, lonely world frozen in time. It should be fenced by bottomless swamps for anyone who dares to enter, well, refer to the photograph of the shower scene. Nothing leaves. Everything is to be as they are for little Norman cannot cope otherwise. He's living for two, you know. In a world built for two. Two and only two. 

Norman has not only preserved the physical remains of his mother, for how much impact could a skeleton make - I expect a resounding A LOT from those who have seen the film - she is, most figuratively, his other half. After all, how could you spell Norman without "Norma".

 This constant inner conflict, or persona dichotomy if you want to be fancy, is resolutely illustrated in the final scene where the camera zooms closer and closer upon Norman and the voice-over of his mother forever echos in the cold chambers of your mind. 

Conflicted people can come to do some very strange things... sometimes, unknowingly.

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World War Z (2013)

The perks of being a wall-zombie.
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Although World War Z is not as grand as what one may expect from such a title, this crime-thriller is one cleverly scripted and tightly packed Adrenaline PUNCH!

From the get-go, the film establishes itself with a resolute direction and a refreshingly swift pace. Gone are the days of unnecessarily dreary exposition, and rightfully so because - after all - it is an almost apocalyptic world. The film has some very imaginative and involving action sequences, among which is the terrifying self-perpetuating wall of zombie bodies.


 It is something that you should expect, yet do not, and that is why it is absolutely brilliant; as are the defining plot twist and  Brad Pitt's well-measured delivery and strong presence.


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Surprisingly, the linear narrative is most appropriate. It teases you with fragments of the puzzle whilst inducing you to become a part of this world - before you know it, emotions start clouding your rationale - and then, of course, you're out of time. The resolution is revealed, and you are - most simply - awestruck.

The thrills are entertaining and somewhat frightening, and criticise to your heart's content, but cliched pop-ups and well-followed chase scenes are quite effective. However, it is the crime elements that stimulate your higher senses and truly horrify. The infested world at war is undeniably realised and realistic, and you are, paradoxically, trapped in an open space. Ironically, this would be a nightmare for either claustrophobic or agoraphobic folks.

I don't think I would survive a zombie apocalypse. I make too much noise.
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My only criticism is that the undertone of possible conspiracy is fearfully underused; if you want to craft a smart zombie film, then craft it! It isn't that the conflict is unsatisfactorily resolved, but the film deserves an ending grander and bolder than an effective montage and an implied origin story. Ironically, the film is restricted by its over-sized budget.

This is World War Z, and whilst it is not fearless enough to be a 10, it is intelligent and gritty enough for an 8. 

Love y'all.

Grey's Anatomy: The Perfect Storm

Meredith, knowing that she shall fall unconscious in less than a minute, instructs her intern and calms him as he operates on her. My, my, Ellen Pompeo rocks it! 

Greetings everyone! 

Surely, in time past, I have revealed my religious and cultish following of Grey's Anatomy, and although its 9th season is a bit of a hit and miss, the 9th season finale is simply and superbly perfect.

Dedicated to my people. 

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First up, I'd like to say that this is not an episode recap, because I do not do plot outlines. Many critics, especially TV critics, do it because fandoms love to debate over plot points and play the good old prediction game. I suppose that's one of TV's advantage over the big screen, the engagement - if conducted  masterfully - may be intense as well as prolonged.

Anyway, to each his own. Being an aspiring marketing major, I like to price a product based on the value it delivers. 

The high it induces. The thrill it enforces, and the thoughts it stirs. 

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Recently, Grey's Anatomy has been renewed for a tenth season. Even though it is nearing its timely denouement, the show is still raking solid ratings. I thank human nature for this. As a writer - I hope I can at least claim that fact - I see Grey's as a social experiment. Shonda Rhimes places her intriguing and perplexing characters into deathly situations, and let them react. Fortunately, she has an extraordinary cast, which includes the always on-point Sandra Oh, to deliver the emotions that are just right! 

They are unpredictable enough to shock you, but not quite alienate you. The show has, really, rehashed some very similar situations, and yet every time the emotions are taken afresh. That is the beauty - one of the few - of us Homo sapiens.

I, too, need to accommodate my female viewers. Plus, it's an in interesting shot. Great dynamics.

 Shonda's only issue is introducing too many new characters at once. When the original cast has such a layered and established relationship with the audience, new characters - like explosive situations - should simply be stimuli and not things that waste valuable screen time. I digress - this isn't Writing101.

This episode is Grey's at one of its peaks. The physical thrill parallels its emotional punch, and you become entirely absorbed by this world and these people. For that forty minutes, it's no longer fictional because the fourth wall is completely shattered. I'm sorry if this is sounding more and more like Writing1001, but that is exactly and precisely magnificent story telling. 

Love y'all. 

Timeless Jolie

Hello readers!

My, my, have I missed blogging. 

What a week it has been!? I have been waiting and waiting - day after day - for some exploitable spare time and much needed perspective. Aptly named, this installment is a loving tribute to my roaring hero Angelina Jolie. 

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As a critic, however amateurish, I endeavour to remain objective, which means I am barred from playing *favourites* and - with le cinema's enormous sky of goddesses - there is really no need to play such a game. Alas, I am human - the heart wants what it wants - and I love her. 

Jolie is a creature of bewildering intrigue and wonderment. Her screen presence compels me so effortlessly, so naturally, and I am constantly entranced by not only her radiant beauty, but more so by her aura. Words, or at least my weaving of them, cannot adequately describe her. However, in his review of Girl, Interrupted (2000), the late literary genius Roger Ebert - may he rest in peace - has most succinctly pin-pointed her position in the world of films. 

"Jolie is emerging as one of the great wild spirits of current movies, a loose cannon who somehow has deadly aim."

With this post, I simply wish to relive the most unforgettable detonations of this loose cannon.   

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Gia (1998) 

This beautifully haunting made-for-television biopic paints the portrait of the late model Gia Marie Carangi. It was one of Angelina's first breakthrough performances, and won her a SAG as well as a second Golden Globe. 

In so many ways, this role was perfect for the 23 year old Jolie. Gia was the fresh blood that so naturally inspired and excited photographers. A magnetic and enigmatic star. Now, I don't know how well Jolie personally relates to Gia's parental issues or reckless self-harm - unfortunately, we do not lunch every spare Friday - but every expressed emotion seems too real.

 They are both gorgeous women, but distinctly so, and yet Jolie's delivery evokes the authentic rawness and vulnerability that made Gia so darn appealing to photograph. 

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With every shot, Jolie disappears into this character, and as Gia's fairy tale spins into a rusting train wreck, the audience is entirely captivated. Wrapped around her fingers. From the flamboyant poses, gestures, and playful cheek to the screaming fits and lonely moments of solitude, Jolie brings every nuance of this persona to life. We no longer care that - yet again - it's one pretty girl playing the part of another pretty girl. We only care for her and we, too, feel the pain that is well beyond skin-deep. Gia was many things, but strip away the layers and she is just a girl, who wanted nothing more than to be loved and protected. 

This post is wearing out its welcome, so I shall cover the other three deadly precise detonations in future posts. Separate posts. 

Thanks for checking the blog even when I neglected to write for months on end. 

Love y'all. Truly. 

Oz the Great and Powerful (2013)

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Although gloriously beautiful, the film is neither great nor powerful. Oz the Great and Powerful is more than adequate, but it is in no way truly epic or profound. 

Here, the world of Oz is marvelously re-imagined through the eyes of Robert Stromberg, who has already snatched two Oscars - for Art Direction - for his visionary work on Avatar and Alice in Wonderland. Upon the protagonist's arrival in Oz, the screen expands and is brought to life with exquisite colours; co-incidentally, this is when the dreary story draws its first breath of intrigue and excitement. The landscape of this world is absolutely wondrous; its extraordinary mountains and endless waterfalls are sights of breathtaking beauty. At this point - regardless of James Franco's dull performance - the film is set on its course for Greatness. 

Oz hesitantly enters what is left of China Town.
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As the film progresses, the director sweeps the grand visuals and theatrics aside to reserve center stage for the story and its key characters. This is as it should be. Unfortunately, the script fails to cultivate the more complex and perplexing nuances of the story, and the consequence is a simplified plot with characters who are severely under-written. Alice had the same problem, however, it benefited from consistently spectacular visuals and a stupendous cast who did their darnedest with the thin material given. 

Then, it is vital that we credit and/or discredit the essentials of this cast.

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James Franco's portrayal of the accidental wizard grows to be believable as the film's progression allows him to inject just enough sincerity. In fact, just enough is the perfect summary of his efforts, which is barely acceptable for an interpretation of an iconic character such as the Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Mila Kunis, with her excellently emotive eyes, is quite likable when we first meet her. However, her characterisation proves to be the most unsympathetic, flat and two-dimensional; I hesitate to blame her considering the material, and the wickedly distortive effect of CGI and make-up.

Needless to say, the costume department deserves a sparkling round of applause.
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Now, this is starting to read like an extravagantly negative review, so, it is time to celebrate the film's few, but significant merits. Rachel Weisz and Michelle Williams, once again, dazzle with their undeniable grace and captivating screen presence. Although she delivers very few lines, Weisz delivers them in a powerfully subtle manner, and her passive-aggressive calmness is delightful to admire; I was absolutely enticed by her - how shall I phrase this - cool sass and playful wickedness. 

Michelle Williams' Glinda does not shine as radiantly in terms of witchery, but this illustration of Glinda is lovely and, more importantly, compelling. Some may claim that William's portrayal is sugary and bland, and only showcases the superficial layer. I come to Williams's defense not because I love her, which I do, but because I adore this performance.

Look at the piercing sharpness of that expression.
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 Glinda - to me - has always been the symbol of purity, righteousness and flawless enunciation. I still remember Billie Burke's mesmerising turn as the Good Witch in the Wizard of Oz, and her effortless grace is something that I shall never cease to admire.

 I think Williams, too, has an endearing love for this character, and it shows.
Although her moments of fiery conviction are fleeting, and it would have been unforgettable to see her shed that amour of composure in a quiet corner of her idyllic castle - this Glinda is everything that I need her to be. Plus, why should she act otherwise when her gentility, patience and charms are so naturally persuasive?

Discontinued, it may be, but that doesn't make it any less beautiful.
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This film is a lot like Williams' performance; it is not perfectly spectacular nor is it extravagantly dramatized, however, it is sprinkled with enough clever wit and lovely sights; it strikes at the appropriate times, and is ultimately warm and quite endearing. The film doesn't quite reach that peak of Greatness, but at its core is a heart full of Goodness. I can only give it a 7.5, but I do so recommend it.

P.S. 3-D is relatively well utilised, but let's be honest - the only film that should have ever been made in 3-D is Ang Lee's Life Of Pi. Discussion over.

Love y'all.

The Impossible (2013 Review)

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The Impossible is an absorbing disaster drama - buoyed by brutally precise directions and raw performances from a stupendous cast. This film is one of the year's best, and is by far the most emotionally affecting.

Although the directions can be superfluously stylish at times, the film is largely brutal and gritty. The masterful use of CGI intricately recreates the mass devastation of the deadly 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami. Seeing those monstrous waves devour the coastal resorts and its helpless inhabitants - one cannot help but be reminded of the fragility of life. Conversely, our brave characters illuminate us with their fearless displays of human compassion, and remind us all of the unwavering power of humanity and of love.

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Naomi Watts is entirely empathetic as a mother grasping onto every breath to ensure the survival of her family. From the desperate and undying fire in her eyes - shown in effective, prolonged close-ups - to her howls of unimaginable pain and the unrelenting screams for her son, Watts is unrestrained in showcasing the selflessness of maternal love.

There is an incredibly involving scene where Watts' character and her eldest son fight the indefatigable current to get each other to safer grounds; ignoring the searing pain caused by the gaping hole in her leg, she holds him tightly in her arms and whispers "I'm scared too". There is a quieter scene where they are waiting on the high branches of  a tree with a lost child they have saved; the child innocently plays with her hair, she smiles and holds his little hand to tell him that she shan't let anything happen to him. At this point, I cried - without apologies.

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Now, I am not saying that Jennifer Lawrence's turn as a passionately fiery widow in Silver Linings Playbook is not perfect in its own way, but Naomi Watts is perfect to the whisper. Watts, even in this raw portrayal, oozes a sense of dignified grace that makes her screen presence so commanding. I know she will not win, but Watts deserves the Oscar gold for this extraordinarily human performance.

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Ewan McGregor, although not as compelling to observe mostly because his parts are not as well-scripted, brings the same fire and conviction to his delivery; his tears of helplessness are undeniably heart-wrenching. The film also owes many thanks to its child stars, who rival Watts in rawness and presence, and whose contributions resurrect the soul-wrenching terror and pain of that unforgettable disaster.

 I remember following the television reports and praying that the death toll would stop rising; even then, I was simply an observer and I could not have fathomed the true extent of the victims' suffering. One can sympathise, but does one ever truly know? This film cracks the fourth wall, and we plunge into the ocean of emotions headfirst; although the pain is not completely vivid to us - we cry so easily because we earnestly empathise with and feel for the characters. That is an amazing feat of story-telling.

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The film is not flawless, but any flaw is deemed insignificant. The miraculous true story is not easy to narrate, and could have been greatly contrived. However, The Impossible - like its heroes - treks the inconvenient, rocky path to bring to life this compelling, intense and mightily moving human drama.

How truly wonderful it is to be human and feel alive!?
I love y'all. 

From Up On Poppy Hill (Review)

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From Up On Poppy Hill is a traditionally animated film produced by the iconic Studio Ghibli, and co-scripted by the legendary Hayao Miyazaki; this simple animated drama is a delightful triumph. 

The film is set in a small and peaceful port-side town of Japan, circa 1960s. This universe is constructed and tendered with an incredible wealth of fine period details, and is a welcoming entrance to an idyllic past. The plot is not without central conflicts, but everything is handled with such delicate gentility that the overall tone is entirely pure and innocent. 

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From the sweeping shots of the quiet seaside - the tranquil water surface only ever disturbed by a fishing boat, puffing away - to the smooth bike ride along the narrow alleyways, walled by endless rows of miniature, multistory houses. Every shot is drawn with intricate attention to detail, and is wonderfully lively. The audience is completely absorbed and enticed by the simple, yet effective story-telling. 

The narrative is further assisted by the softly sweet and melodic soundtrack; with it, one could easily imagine the beautiful sensation of lying on a shady patch of grass beneath a round tree on a breezy Summer's day. 

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 The film can be considered a melodramatic youth film, but its pure-heart and comforting tone allow us to embrace its tales of love, attraction, friendship and self-discovery in the most resolute fashion. Poppy Hill exhibits surprisingly dark nuances, but these potentially tabooed complications are resolved with delicate empathy and sympathy - evoking the audience to quietly admire the magnificence of youthful and innocent love.

 However, the film does illustrate some very humorous situations; particularly the scenes involving the clubhouse building and the youngsters' effort to conserve this dilapidated institution of culture. This central theme of treasuring the past - conserving it and being enlightened by it - is clarified in every aspect of Poppy Hill. As realised by our loving heroine, the past shall always be part of her identity. However, it should never detain her, but rather guide her with her journey forward. 

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This is yet another Studio Ghibli masterpiece that I shall cherish; it is a marvellous pleasure to view a film that can highlight and celebrate the simplest movements of life in such a beautiful manner. I am, once again, inspired.