blast-o-rama.

When it comes to the work of David Fincher (one of my favorite director’s going today), he seems to thrive on what has become the popular formula for creatives who wish to continue working in the Hollywood system – a simple game best described as “one for you, and one for me”.  He does the blockbuster film to make the studio happy, then works his way into doing a personal film – a project that wouldn’t otherwise be greenlit, but gets the go ahead due to his prior successes.

Typically, his better films are the passion projects – films like Se7en, Zodiac and Fight Club.  Which isn’t to say that the movies “for them” haven’t been good – just Panic Room and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button tend to stand out amongst his more difficult, less accessible films.  I suppose one wouldn’t expect anything less for a filmmaking perfectionist who got his start making commercials for Nike.  But last year, that all changed – a project that would probably be best described as “one for him”, a film chronicling the creation of a ridiculously well known website – The Social Network became a critical and box office hit, nabbing Fincher some much needed Academy Awards. No longer were they just “for him”, Fincher now was an artist for “us” – both himself and the studio.

So, it should come as little surprise that when Sony needed someone to head up the American adaptation of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, they went to Mr. David Fincher.  He clearly excels at communicating hard to understand concepts to audiences (he made Facebook interesting in The Social Network), he understands the obsession one has when solving a crime (Zodiac), and he has spent some time in the dark, deplorable depths of mankind (Se7en). All of these tools come into play here.

When I originally saw the Swedish version of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, I was really surprised – after seeing copies in nearly everyone’s hand, I can’t say that a dark tale about a magazine publisher, an abused hacker girl, an unsolved murder, and well, a LOT of rape was what I anticipated.  But once Fincher was signed, I could see how it could be worked, how it could be communicated again to an audience who, well, doesn’t want to deal with subtitles.  Unfortunately, many of the flaws of that film were clearly of the source material – as they happen again here.

The story is overwrought with detail and length – the original film was a hefty 152 minutes, and you felt every single one of them – Fincher’s version runs six minutes longer.  Luckily, he’s a bit more adept behind the camera – while the movie is long, you are drawn in by the amazing composition of each frame, making Sweden equal parts beautiful and haunting.  He’s mastered the montage of people looking at computers, piecing together information – what could be difficult to follow or slow in one directors hands feels important and in the moment here – that said, I could have easily done without a half hour of the film.  But I suppose that is the dilema of playing in another’s sandbox.  There is an expectation to deliver what is on the page right onto the screen - and while I’ve never read the books myself, I have a hunch there is nary a scene cut or detail missed.  To that point, the 3rd acts flaws remain intact, leaving the viewer wondering “can we just skip to the end”?

That said, what is at it’s core a flawed film, is surrounded by strong acting – the cast, full of solid character actor work (Christopher Plummer and Stellan Skarsgard do some superb work here) is anchored in what may become franchise roles for both Daniel Craig and Rooney Mara.  Craig, as the lead, Mikael Blomkvist, truly feels driven in his pursuit of the truth and brings a strength to the role that I felt was missing in the Swedish original.  Mara will certainly be remembered for her turn as Lisbeth Salander – she’s completely unrecognizable, lost in a mishmash of piercings and tattoos, hiding herself from the world that appears to have turned against her every step of the way.  Also worth mentioning is the continued working relationship between David Fincher and the musical team of Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross.  As much as their work drove The Social Network forward, they take a more subtle approach here – their driving cover of “Immigrant Song” may kick off the film, but from there it’s beautiful ambient work, some of the finest instrumental work Reznor has done.  No matter your feelings on the movie once the final spool runs, you’ll want a copy of the soundtrack. (In fact, I’m listening to it as I write now).

I admit, my perspective on the film is skewed – I haven’t read the original book, and only have seen the film, but that said, for a newcomer to the Millennium Trilogy, I’d recommend this American take.  For those who love the original film? You may want to wait for a matinee, or just pick up the soundtrack.

It may sound like I disliked the film more than I did, but I suppose at the end of the day, I was disappointed. In the world of adaptations, you’re only as good as the original work which you came away from. Fincher, Mara and Craig do their best to lift up the project, but at the end of the day, the flaws which exist in the length and scope of the story drag the work down.

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo aims high, and delivers as best it can, but at the end of the day, it just couldn’t stick the landing.

Heading into tonight’s preview screening of Young Adult, I kept saying one thing – Jason Reitman never lets you down.  With 3 fantastic films under his belt, (Thank You For Smoking, Juno and Up in the Air) he’s become a filmmaker to watch out for.  And with his latest holiday time release, Reitman doesn’t let you down – but he definitely puts you through the ringer for all 94 minutes of it.

Teaming up with Reitman once again is Juno screenwriter Diablo Cody, and before the blogosphere starts making its jokes – this is not an “honest to blog” script. It’s not whip smart – it’s rough and tumble, much like the edges of it’s lead – Mavis Gray, played pitch perfectly by Charlize Theron.  Similar to Juno, this is a film about a woman in a state of flux – but instead of a young girl reaching out from the edges of high school and finding what the real world is, Theron’s Mavis is a woman twenty years removed from her high school years…and she can’t let go of it.

At age 37, Mavis is considered a big deal in her hometown in smalltown Minnesota.  She grew up, headed to “the Big City”, Minneapolis and started ghostwriting a Sweet Valley High-esq book series. She’s considered a big deal in her hometown, but in her own eyes? She’s meaningless.  The former pretty popular girl in high school made good in everyone’s eyes but her own, and she sits twenty years later, with a book series at its end, a marriage fallen apart and she’s just a drunken, glue sniffing mess.  She moves from partner to partner, sleeping with them and gaining nothing.  But she longs for what she once had – the love of a man named Buddy Slade (Patrick Wilson).  She and Buddy were truly in love once, but something happened, and she never got it back.  After getting an email from Buddy’s wife, announcing the birth of their daughter, she becomes obsessed with the life she wanted, but never had – and decides she’s going to head home and get him back.

Clearly, these are not the actions of a sane mind, and the movie never once gives credence to it.  The film’s been called a comedy-drama, and it leans FAR FAR more on the latter.  Mavis hangs on to the ideas of what was, and what never would be again, because that’s what her happiness is built around.  Her work is built around creating worlds of high school drama, where every moment is so important  - or so it seems at the time, and she lets her real life fall apart, blinding herself with drink, drugs, bad love and hanging her heart on hopes that will never be met.  It’s a truly heartbreaking yet believable performance from Theron, and honestly, the Oscar talk deserves credence. Much as she did with Monster, she subverts her image here.  Before, she took her beauty to an ugly extreme – now, she takes her beauty and uses it to mask years of pain, hurt and self doubt.

Reitman shoots the film wonderfully – he’s at times been a very slick and smooth filmmaker, here, he shoots fast and loose – the shots are quickly composed, leaving you in the realties of the moment, and there are some brutal ones.  This is a film that pushes the pain of life forward.  Sure, it has its humorous edges, but at it’s core it’s about a very broken person.  Theron is well matched in the cast by an incredibly strong performance from Patton Oswalt.  As anyone who saw Big Fan knows, Oswalt can be fantastic and heartbreaking with the right material, and he nails it here.  Co-starring as Matt Freehauf, a man who went to high school with Mavis and suffered some (literal) scarring of his own, he hits the pain of the male geek – those who never got to escape the pain of those four years, and live with it every day.

Young Adult isn’t a film that is going to warm your heart this Christmas season by any means, but it’s one that you’ll be absolutely captivated by.  Diablo Cody aimed to subvert her writing for smart mouth teens past here, and she did it in spades, and Jason Reitman? He’s four for four, even if I don’t know how comfortable I’d be with watching this movie again.  The cringe factor is high here, gang, but so is the quality.  Check it out.

Young Adult gets a limited release on December 9th, with a full general release roll-out on December 16th.

The lights go down. The film starts. The company logos play, and immediately we are thrust into a conversation.  A man in a jacket emblazoned with a scorpion is standing in a dark room on a cellphone.  He’s explaining his terms to the person on the otherside. They’re very simple. “If I drive for you, you give me a time and a place. I give you a five-minute window, anything happens in that five minutes and I’m yours no matter what. I don’t sit in while you’re running it down; I don’t carry a gun… I drive.”

This is our “hero”. Never given a name and known simply as ‘Driver’ in the credits, he is a man of few words, but for him, they aren’t necessary.  It’s his actions which say everything.  And it’s his actions that set everything into motion for Drive, a dark, moody film that gives props to 80′s action films that came before it but is truly a creation of it’s own.

Starting with almost a short film showing the Driver and how good at his job he is, the movie kicks in for it’s credits, a pumping musical montage set to “Nightcall” by Kavinsky. In certain movies, this montage would be shlock, an 80′s throwback that mocks an era.  Here it sets the tone.  The director is intending to tell us a tale, but not necessarily in the way you’d expect. Nicolas Winding Refn (director of Bronson and Valhalla Rising) plays his story out like a song.  The scenes giving us just enough of moments, like vague lyrics that paint the picture but don’t provide all the details, the action sequences are the crescendo that give the film it’s apex and emotional catharsis.  And like a good rockband, we have one hell of a front man – Ryan Gossling.

I’m not sure when Gossling got so damned good as an actor, but it seems he didn’t ever want to be The Notebook Guy.  Here, he is equally ever in the moment and always illusive, mixing quietly simmering dialogue with violent and extreme actions.  But at the same time there is an incredible tenderness to his character, as seen in the way he cares for his neighbor, Irene (Casey Mulligan) and her son.  The dichotomy continues with his day to day life, with his dayjobs of being a mechanic and doing stuntdriving for films, juxtaposed against his nightlife of being the wheelman for crimes and getting caught up in the mob (represented in two great, scene stealing performances from Albert Brooks and Ron Pearlman).

Much like a great album, each moment is sequenced perfectly right – but to spoil how the moments come together would ruin the fun.  Drive is a film full of scenes and sequences that have continued to bounce around my memory since I saw the film yesterday, and I forsee it sticking with me for a very long time.  Much like the synth soundtrack that permeates every speaker in the theater, the film pulses, bounces and eventually blows you away.

I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when I sat down for Drive, but what I got was one of my favorite movies this year.  Stunning cinematography, great music, impeccable performances and a story that ties up the ends you need and leaves just enough loose to have you discussing the events for hours to come, this is a film that will be looked back at fondly for years to come.  I can’t wait to hit play and start it all over again.

It’s weird – I seem to be very bipolar on reviews here – either I really love something or I really dislike it.  Honestly, that’s more because I struggle to write about my own indifference towards something.  Strong enjoyment or strong distaste is SO much more enjoyable to share with others – it’s the middle-ground that is hard to communicate.

And that brings me to this evening’s review – Real Steel.  Just over two hours in length, the film really couldn’t bring me to any set emotion. The film simply happened, and I was there to see it – but as I’ll get to, I could just be the wrong person for it.

For those who haven’t seen the trailers (which spell out a lot of the plot), allow me to summarize the setup for you. Hugh Jackman (WOLVERINE!~) plays Charlie Kenton, a down and out fighting robot operator.  See, Charlie was once a boxer of note, and once the world became more entertained by the high-stakes violent world of robot boxing, his career went down the toilet, and when you can’t beat them, you join them.  But it seems that the world of robot boxing hasn’t treated him well, leaving him sending a trail of debt, beer bottles and bad decisions across the country as he takes he and his robot from city to city.  Things change for Charlie, however, as one day an old ex-girlfriend dies, leaving him with his long lost son Max (Dakota Goyo), and now it’s up to him to figure out how to deal with a son, paying off his debt, and maybe even making it up to a childhood friend/lover in his former trainer’s daughter, Bailey (Lost‘s Evangeline Lilly).

Along the way, Max even develops an interest in robot fighting, and one fateful night they stumble upon an abandoned early generation sparring robot, named Atom, but there’s something special about Atom – and Charlie alongside Max decide to see what Atom’s truly worth in the ring.

I know, you’re already doing the mental math – Atom fights up the ranks, Charlie and Max get closer, Charlie becomes the father he was supposed to be, and that endears Bailey to Charlie, everyone gets happy by the credits.  It’s really easy to project (sorry for the spoilers?) – but there’s a notable flaw with the script, and it’s probably what bothers me the most…none of that is earned, but it all happens.

Charlie suddenly becomes a “good dad” without the crisis of self.  Atom gets a shot at the top title in robot fighting. Max learns to love his dad…I think?  But the movie never shows us the how or why – we just get there. And maybe that’s my flaw in watching Real Steel.  Maybe I expect too much from the movie. Maybe I should just write it off as dumb fun, because if you let it be – it IS fun.

The real draw of the film, i.e. where the money is, is definitely the robots and they shine, literally and figuratively.  A mixture of practical animatronics and CG, the robots are VERY impressive, and the fight sequences (there are about 4-5 major ones in the film) are exciting and well rendered.  This movie is going to be amazing to an entire generation of 6-10 year old boys.  From the scrapheap look of Atom to the asian flared Noisey Boy to the big bad monster Zeus, each robot has a noticeable personality, dragging you into the fights.

And that leads me to my problem with the acting…the robots actually do a better job of grabbing sympathy and interest than the actors.  I know I alluded to the weak script earlier on, but the actors do nothing to really add to the interest. Jackman’s American accent is all over the place throughout the film, slipping from Jersey to almost a bad Kennedy impression, and Dakota Goyo, playing Max, is simply a brat throughout the movie – except of course when the movie hits the redemption switch and all is good.

Maybe that’s my issue – Real Steel really could have been a fun, all ages romp with fighting robots, but it just didn’t want to put in the time to gain my interest or affection.  That being said, the audience at the preview screening was unlike any I’ve experienced in a long while, cheering during the battles, clapping for Atom’s victories and getting into each bout as if it was happening in real time.

So like I said, maybe I’m wrong, maybe Real Steel is really great. But only time and audiences will tell.