2005 Viewing Notes

1/1 – 1/3

The Phantom of the Opera (Schumacher, 2004) – “laughably ridiculous”

1/4 - 1/10

Hotel Rwanda (George, 2004)
A Series of Unfortunate Events (Silberling, 2004)
The Saddest Music in the World (Maddin, 2004)
White Noise (Sax, 2004)

I've listed them preferentially. One great, one good, one okay, one awful.

1/11 - 1/17

I totally forgot to post this on Monday, so I may have to be brief with the comments.

Coach Carter (Carter, 2005) - Wonderfully directed and shot, but the cliches got to me, after awhile. Samuel L. Jackson is solid, as always.

Elektra (Bowman, 2005) - Not as bad as everyone says. Jennifer Garner turns in a fitting performance and looks good. One of the villains, appropriately called Tattoo, is fun to watch. I liked it more than Daredevil, but the premise is pretty pathetic. I could've thought of a far superior story-line in ten minutes.

In Good Company (Weitz, 2004) - Warm and biting at the same time. Topher Grace and Scarlett Johansson are both terrific, and Dennis Quaid can now officially claim that he gave one good performance in 2004. Paul Weitz is slowly earning my total respect as a writer/director.

Beyond the Sea (Spacey, 2004) - Structurally, it's a total mess. Spacey's direction is all over the place. However, as an actor, he is terrific, right along with Kate Bosworth. The music is a treat and the eras it depicts are

Fat Albert (Zwick, 2004) - To its credit, it has one really stupid, really funny sequence in which Fat Albert has a footrace against a toned high-school bigshot, taking very small steps and seemingly gliding across the track. The rest of the movie, on the other hand, is annoying as hell.

Two more weeks of watching a bunch of 2004 stuff and then I'll be onto some meatier stuff.

1/18 - 1/26

Are We There Yet? (Levant, 2004)

It's as bad as you thought it looked, but no more. One measly movie goes without saying I revisited Hotel Rwanda, House of Flying Daggers, Napoleon Dynamite, Spring Summer Fall Winter...and Spring, Before Sunrise and Before Sunset. Positioning on my 2004 list has flipped around a little bit. Million Dollar Baby will finalize it.

1/25 - 1/31

Assault on Precinct 13 (Richet, 2005) - I had to attend the screening at a theatre aways away and, there, the high-school kids had to attend classes, on Thursday. I was a bit creeped out at the many truency officers around (even though my school had the day off for teacher prep.), especially considering I was seeing an R rated movie without an adult, so I think that might've affected my ability to enjoy the film. I disliked it quite a bit. To me, violence has to be either "cool," which is rare, or grusome, and director Richet tries to make it both, here. He fails to a considerable degree; I still can't get into aimless shooting that is devoid of strategy. At least Ethan Hawke and Lawrence Fishburne are decent leads.

Million Dollar Baby (Eastwood, 2004) - Discussed.

Silver City (Sayles, 2004) - Sayles has got a great plot on his hands this time, but his blatant Bush-bashing constantly took me out of the movie. The conclusion is kind of a cop-out, too, but I was pretty involved for the entire duration.

Twilight Samurai (Yamada, 2004) - Thematically and stylistically stunning, and totally the opposite of what I was expecting. I can't say I dug it enough to call it one of 2004's best, but I liked it a lot.

The Story of the Weeping Camel (Davaa, Falorni; 2004) - Could've made for an interesting short, but the many fascinating elements drown in the insufferable length of a fairly short 87 minutes. The camel-delivery scene is amazing, but the rest was too melodramatic for even my tastes. I think the plotting involving humans was for me a bit like The Way Home was for Beltmann.

2/1 - 2/28 (Yep...it's been a whole month since I last chimed in, on this thread).

Listed Chronologically:

Coffee and Cigarettes (Jarmusch, 2004)
Hitch (Tennant, 2005)
Mean Creek (Estes, 2004)
Because of Winn Dixie (Wang, 2005)
P.S. (Kidd, 2004)
Being Julia (Szabó, 2004)
Fight Club (Fincher, 1999)
Racing Stripes (Du Chau, 2005)
Constantine (Lawrence, 2005)
Cursed (Craven, 2005)
Saw (Wan, 2004)
Son of the Mask (Guterman, 2005)

A thorougly uninspiring month at the movies. OUt of these, my favorite is probably the very funny Being Julia, although that isn't saying much.

I applaud the honesty of Mean Creek, but I sometimes found it to be very uninvolving, simply because I deal with teenagers like the characters, everyday. Great performances and a melodic, moody score allow it to be the solid effort that it is, though.

I belong to Fight Club's opposition, thinking it to be a rather ridiculous exploration of instinct and social effect.

Horror is becoming the genre of cinematic atrocities--rather than those of human-kind--and Saw and Cursed go to prove it. The first is a pointless, unscary exercise with bad acting and a laughable sense of brutality. The second, while often very amusing, is an even worse movie. Christina Ricci and Jesse Eisenberg give terrific performances, but their work is bogged down by its confines. While the "boo!" moments do not succeed, the worst surprises it has to offer are those of the characters. When one of them reveals that they are gay, I literally considered that I was hallucinating. The narrative is an utter mess. I expected it, yes, but the wasted talents of the cast never cease to be frustrating.

Not much else to comment on, as most of the rest is mediocre. Now that I realize that I am uncapable of not seeing any theatrical releases, period, I need to work on matching the number I see of them with older ones.

The Jacket (Maybury, 2005) - It kept me interested for awhile, but it ends up being stunningly awful. A movie without feeling should at least have a good plot-twist.

Paper Clips (Berlin, Fab; 2004) - Any movie with pro-American themes and historical reflection should be appreciated but, come on. There's nothing interesting, here! Middle-schoolers did a Holocaust project that worked out well. Good for them, but not exactly interesting viewing. Still, at only about 70 minutes it's tolerable enough. (I would seriously hope that the advertised 82 minutes is wrong, as I walked in about eleven minutes after the official screening started. Had there not been trailers, I would've been really late, but it seemed as though it was just starting to me.)

Get Shorty (Sonnenfeld, 1995)
Be Cool (Gray, 2005)
I disliked them both, equally. While the first has some good dialogue, it is all over the place and uninteresting. The second's problems are more character-related; sure, I liked John and Uma and Christina Millian, but Vince Vaughn and The Rock were so downright annoying that their superior co-stars became the least of my worries.

3/8 - 3/30

Blue (Kieslowski, 1993)
White (Kieslowski, 1994)
Red (Kieslowski, 1994)
Tailor of Panama (Boorman, 2001)
Hostage (Siri, 2005)
Alfie (Shyer, 2004)
Intimate Strangers (Leconte, 2004)
The Ring 2 (Nakata, 2005)
Bride and Prejudice (Chadha, 2005)
The Phantom of the Opera (Julian, Chaney, Laemmle, Sedgwick; 1925)
L.A. Confedential (Hanson, 1997)
Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason (Kidron, 2004)

Repeats: All About My Mother and Spider-Man 2, both of which grew the second time, in my mind.

Not much that really inspires must-say comments, but I'll say that the Three Colors trilogy is wonderful when all three films are looked at together, but I think that Red is the only movie that can really stand on its own. Intimate Strangers, while not as good as Man on the Train, furthers my interest in Patrice Leconte.

3/31-4/18

In Preferential Order:

Melinda and Melinda (Allen, 2005) - What a movie! Flowing amidst a genuine air of music and two beautifully interspersed styles of the same story-thread, Melinda and Melinda is like a piece of theatres with the benefit of all of the quirks of filmmaking, making it a unique, spot-on experience. While its detractors (my father is one of great magnitude) say that is is standard-Woody, I dunno if there is such a thing. It's talky and balky, but oh so delicious; I'm not sure I've ever really not liked an Allen picture. This is his best film in the last five years, easily, one which I will remember for his return to the sorrowful bitterness of comedy, a true tribute to emotion and its many functions. And the grand art of film, too.'

Fever Pitch (Farrelly, 2005)
Millions (Boyle, 2005)
Both interesting concoctions from interesting directions. I liked 'em quite a bit, and they both have some very funny moments.

Finding Forrester (Van Sant, 2000)

Sin City (Rodriguez, 2005) - A much stronger entry into the world of CGI and its counterparts than Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, but, near the middle, it tires. I have intense admiration for the threads involving Micky Rourke, Jessica Alba (who looks just amazing, here), and Bruce Willis, but the entire second act, which mainly features Clive Owen and Brittany Murphy, threw me off. Still, it rebounds and is in full-form during the conclusion, and its overall "weird" factor made it hard to not dig.

Goodbye, Lenin! (Becker, 2004) - Wickedly plodding through a kind of comedically melancholy tone, this German crowd-pleaser earned its European box-office status through a quite interesting, albeit dark, style. Good performances all around and the one-joke premise actually inspires quite the range of emotional complexity, for what it's worth. I'll probably eventually forget this one, but I will do so lovingly.

Selena (Nava, 1997)

Sahara (Eisner, 2005) - As hundreds of bullets fly through the remnants of a civil-war boat which the three main characters use for a means of shielding themselves, making it about as decimated as the punch-card of an undecided voter in an election, most viewers will be inclined to scream "Yeah, right!" at the screen, as the central figures make it out of the situation unscratched. I, on the other hand, developed some sort of geeky admiration for such sequences; Sahara is like a rough, updated Indiana Jones where the characters have greater super-human abilities and agility than Indy, himself, but never realize that they do. The movie isn't a great one--perhaps not even a good one--but it is made and performed with such energy, it's impossible to dislike. Embracing its silliness every step of the way, unlike the naively-constructed Day After Tomorrow, I had fun. It'll make a great movie to rent and forget in the years to come. And then there's Penelope Cruz. My only question is: why didn't Salma Hayek come along with her?

Guess Who (Sullivan, 2005)- Bernie Mac is terrific and Ashton Kutcher tries in this welcomingly sub-plotless string of vignettes between an interracial copuple and the maternal family. While the material is tastefully handled, the one-joke premise wears by the end, although it still remains kind of amusing.

Robots (Wedge, Saldanha; 2005) - Beautiful, inventive imagery makes this one quite a triumph of the sight, but, in every other area, it comes up short. Some nice moments fill its tank enough to allow it to remain entertaining, but the entire experience is comparable to watching a few friends play a video game for an hour and a half. Still, it's worth recommending for its visuals and some of the humor in the first act. After leaving a previous showing because of the obnoxiousness of the audience, I'm glad I finally caught it.

Vera Drake (Leigh, 2004) - Stripped down to the bare essentials and accompanied by blustering British accents, this period-drama, while an ultimate failure, increased my fascination in Mike Leigh and strengthened whatever anti-abortion opinion I have in me. Imelda Staunton and Richard Graham are terrific, but does Leigh have anything more to say than "Ooh! Look at Me! I Can Make an Abortion Movie!"? I doubt it.

The Upside of Anger (Binder, 2005) - Timeless camera work highlights this full-throttling tirade of angst which is, otherwise, completely and utterly dreckish. Director Mike Binder tries to melt the line between what's humorous and what's sorrowful and then solidify it, come the end, but I see the self-indulgent, wannabe-lyrical approach that he uses as purely intolerable. I was downright annoyed by at least two-thirds of the material. Evan Rachel Wood delivers a terrific performance, but Joan Allen feels out of place, Kevin Costner couldn't be more sluggish, and Erika Christensen will only work for male viewers. Not since Closer have I wanted to like a film so much and ended up abhoring it so deeply.

4/19 – 4/25

A Lot Like Love (Cole, 2005) - Surprisingly impressive work from Peet and Kutcher highlights this little gem of a movie, which has come out of nowhere, and will probably leave the minds of most very soon, unfortunately.

The Interpreter (Pollack, 2005) - Masterfully crafted and well-performed, but I found several of its parallels to the current political climate regarding brutal leaders of countries offensive and blatant. For the first two acts, it's hard to determine where it's headed or what reason it has for going there, but it does come together, in the end.

Birth (Glazer, 2005) - Boring and utterly dreckish in every sense. The long, rolling montage sequences have no point--just like everything else in the movie. All it manages to do is weird you out.

4/26 - 5/10

Listed preferentially:

Undertow (Green, 2004) - Just when I thought Undertow would be another All The Real Girls out of David Gordon Green, except without the romance or the interest, it took a 180-degree turn and surprised the hell out of me, with more tension, suspense, and poetically affecting imagery than any other movie in a very long time. Green still embraces a lot of the things that I have grown to hate about his style after only seeing three of his films, but the good he does here far overpowers the bad. Also: it's impressive that Josh Lucas has actually found a role that suits him. Jamie Bell is amazing in the movie. Not to mention, the ending is absolutely beautiful, a total rarity in modern filmmaking.

The Virgin Suicides (Coppola, 1999) - Coppola creates atmosphere in the same way her father did--but in a far more contemporary way--juxtaposing time-period and filmmaking style, almost. Terrifically narrated and reminicent of some sort of demented, contemporary tragedy that Shakespeare never wrote, it works to the extent at which an otherwise jumbled finale ("rushed" doesn't seem like the word) works, in context. Not to mention, Kirsten Dunst is wonderful, and I was in denial that the male lead was Josh Hartnett 'cuz I'd never seen him be so subtle.

A Love Song For Bobby Long (Gabel, 2004) - While disappointed by its predictability, I was pleasantly surprised by how genuinely it reaches its conclusion. A wonderful, flowing first two acts make up for most of the elementary errors in its finale. Not to mention: John Travolta, Scarlett Johansson, and Gabriel Macht are always there to surprise us with terrific performances. Had it been released wider, A Love Song For Bobby Long might've had a shot at acting nominations outside of Johansson's shot-in-hell for the Golden Globe. This, while flawed, is certainly a movie to check out.

Wayne's World (Spheeris, 1992) - There are several funny moments in the movie, but I think 'ya had to be there when it first came out to really enjoy the thing. So many buddy movies over the years (Dude, Where's My Car, Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle) have completely destroyed my taste-buds for this type of movie; not even Myers and Carvey's obvious wit allowed me to immerse myself in it. I dunno if anybody'll be able to forget the theme song, though. "It's 'Wayne's World'! It's 'Wayne's World'! It's party time! Excellent!"

Darkness (Balagueró, 2002) - If there's one thing this movie proves, it's that artistry and efficiency have nothing to do with each other. Several scenes boast excellent lighting and sound mixing, but, because they are basically thrown together in a slew of chaos by director Balagueró, they simply contribute to the film being weird-looking and loud. And I still don't get the point of a "horror"-movie like this trying to delve into deeper areas than the central story--Darkness' attempts at commentating familial dynamics and referencing scripture are only laughable.

Without A Paddle (Brill, 2004) - Opening to sort of a pleasant but poorly acted montage of childhood with soft, warm, and at the same time awfully annoying voiceover narration, I thought I might, just might end up being pleasantly surprised by this one, but then came the crude humor. And there is a lot of it. And not only crude humor: just plain stupid humor. It is a juvenile exercise in every sense, just as expected; how a person could find it funny is beyond me. Had the hillbilly sequence in Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle lasted for 100 minutes, then it'd probably be identical to Without a Paddle.

5/11 - 5/17

Not a bad week, but not a good one. In Preferential Order:

(repeat viewing of:) In Good Company (Weitz, 2004) - This one holds up quite well a second time; as I said in my January review, it would've made for a great sitcom, simply because the characters are so likeable and so revisitable.

The Cameraman (Sedgwick, Keaton; 1928) - This one is mainly fascinating for its historical perspective on the evolution and the devolution of the comedy and the romance over the years--not "romantic comedy". Keaton is bitingly klutzy, as always, and the film is an absolute delight. There are a few times when it drags (i.e.: the scene in the pool dressing room), mainly because of the humor being somewhat out-dated. Nevertheless, as someone who has only seen a few dozen silent films, I completely enjoyed it.

Kicking and Screaming (Dylan, 2005) - Speaking as someone who would consider their self to be an expert on the formulaic kids' soccer movie, growing up with The Big Green and its fellow inferiors, I found Will Ferrell's attempts in the genre to be rather amusing. He, along with the firery Mike Ditka, clever veteran to the industry, Robert Duvall, and the Jonathan Lipniki of Asians, whose name I think I remember to be Elliott Cho, save the picture from mediocrity. There were certain yawn-inducing stretches and I think I'm already forgetting all about the movie, sitting here, an hour later, but it was pleasant and fun. What more can you ask for on a Sunday afternoon?

House of Wax (Serra, 2005) - While not scary or very suspenseful, unlike The Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake, it has a lot of the same things going for it as the Marcus Nispel effort did. Gorgeous imagery that is highlighted by jaw-dropping set-design, especially during the finale, is definitely its greatest asset. Nevertheless, I found some admiration in the performances, which function in exactly the ways that they're supposed to. Elisha Cuthbert gets down and bloody and Paris Hilton, well... isn't all that bad. Still, for a new-age horror movie to spend over forty-five minutes to even reach a point in which anything akin to a climax is in sight, isn't too encouraging. Director Jaume Serra is one to watch out for, but he needs a better editor to help him work the kinks out of his work to become more defined.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (Jennings, 2005) - A big, fat mess of sci-fi jargon it is, indeed, but what kind of a Douglas Adams movie would it be if it was not a big, fat mess of sci-fi jargon? Narratively and thematically, the movie fulfills its need to be totally off-the-wall, but a lot of surpreme clunkiness accompanies this. Is it worth seeing? Probably, due to several moments of hilarity and some mind-boggling visuals, but it doesn't go without its fair share of annoyances, which are headed by Sam Rockwell's downright irritating performance. Still, its lively spirit is damn hard to resist.

Kingdom of Heaven (Scott, 2005) - A better movie than Troy and Alexander in a fundamental sense, but it has none of the energy that they had to propel it along. Ridley Scott surely keeps things thematically rich, but I couldn't help but think of the previous two cinematic, unintelligent "history lessons" when watching it, especially during the battles (save the moment when the Muslims are catapulting balls of fire into the kingdom). Eva Green, last year's Best Supporting Actress, in my book, is given nothing to do, and it seems that the only thing that her co-star, Orlando Bloom, is actually competent at is giving grand speeches. Except for the occassional great scene and swooping ariel views, this one could be considered snooze-ville.

(repeats of:) Star Wars: Episode I--The Phantom Menace and Star Wars: Episode II--The Attack of the Clones (Lucas, 1999/2002) - I virtually remembered nothing about this two before yesterday, in which I watched them for the first times since their theatrical releases. While my feelings for Episode II have weakened, mainly because of the jumbled third act and the desire for a stronger thead of romance between Anakin and Padme. However, Episode I gained some footing in my mind, although, now no longer a 5th grader, I've finally realized why people hate, and I mean hate, Jar-Jar Binks. I'm not sure you can beat the Pod-Race or "auto-pilot" scene in Episode I, although the chase in the first scene in Episode II, while ridiculously sprawling, comes close. As I see Episode III today, I'll be very interested in Hayden Christensen's performance because, like it or not, Jake Lloyd's basic, youthful performance in the role of Anakin as a child is better than that of his older successor, when it comes to the first two films.

...As if those thoughts weren't random enough, here are some for Sith:

Star Wars: Episode III--Revenge of the Sith (Lucas, 2005) - A big, sprawling mess it is, indeed--and while I never let go of this fact, I loved watching it unfold. The CGI is amazing, like nothing any viewer has ever seen before, but I still wonder if it detracts from the real magic of Star Wars. Could it be that technological limits were the reason why the original trilogy was so much better than the prequels, that Lucas had to be more inventive then, narrative-wise? Nevertheless, it's impossible not to realize all of the non-visual things it has going for it. For one, I will be the first to defend the acting in this installment, which is surprisingly strong. Also, it has some themes worth exploring, even if many of them are rather blatant. All in all, I found it stunningly similar to Return of the Jedi, a wondrous experience that will be reminisced upon for ages, but often questioned because of what it could have been.

The Sea Inside (Amenábar, 2004) - Brilliant work from Javier Bardem is certainly one of The Sea Inside's greatest assets, but what truly propels the film is the work of co-writer/director/producer/composer Alejandro Amenábar, who I am finally, truly starting to admire, wholeheartedly. The movie flows terrifically both as commentary on euthanasia, politically and morally, as well as narratively, especially as far as biopics are concerned. Some tighter editing could've been instituted in the second act, but, all in all, its subdued artistry, which is both vivid and painful, comes across beautifully. The second-to-last scene, in which Bardem both tragically and freely faces the camera, is masterful.

Spite Marriage (Sedgwick/Keaton, 1929) - This Keaton film is probably my least favorite of the ones that I have seen, but it's just as historically fascinating as the rest. It offers quite the perspective on the true origins of slapstick, and exhibits most of the reasons why I hate the kind of humor. Still, it has many uniquely funny moments, playing out in the same way that The Cat's Meow would've had Keaton been aboard.

Crash (Haggis, 2005) - Between Crash and Million Dollar Baby, Paul Haggis has shown such a stunning command for human tragedy that it's a shame that he lets it get away from him here. In dwelling on racism instead of simply the strangely beautiful, natural desperation of life, Crash becomes utterly ridiculous and overblown in the greatest sense. The film contains many great moments, particularly the scene in which Thandie Newton is stuck in a car and the second scene shared between Shaun Toub and Michael Pena, but, ultimately, in exploring racial stereotypes, Haggis only delves greater into artistic stereotypes. This is extremely unfortunate because, had the story been tweaked to feel a little more natural and a little less preachy, Crash could've been a thorougly riveting experience. What it turns out to be is a somewhat thoughtful, but incredibly trite motion picture.

Much Ado About Nothing (Branagh, 1993) - We watched it in English class after reading the play, and, while watching it, I pretty much took it as another mediocre movie of the '90's that had been forgotten by all. And then I looked at the glowing reviews for it. Never has "WTF?" been more appropriate. The movie is trite, poorly acted considering the cast, and has no real Shakespearean spirit, whatsoever. I suppose the set design and locales are nice, but I really detested the picture.

Kinsey (Condon, 2004) - I was far more fascinated by the material regarding the history behind Alfred Kinsey's research than the famililal dynamics which writer/director Bill Condon decides to concentrate more on. Liam Neeson and Laura Linney head the film very strongly, but, to me, their relationship wasn't all that interesting. It took the Peter Sarsgaard's involvement in their lives or the scenes about actual research to get me involved. The last scene is particularly ridiculous.

Empire Falls (Schepisi, 2005) - I'm not really sure whether to look at it as a film or television, because it certainly functions better as the latter, although it certainly wants to be the former. Either way, the strong performances constantly had me engaged, despite the somewhat meandering and inconclusive storyline of sorts.

The Longest Yard (Segal, 2005) - Unlike many, I didn't find it offensive. I actually kind of like the standard Adam Sandler movie, though unremarkable. However, there is one thing that I don't think the filmmakers should be allowed to get away with that they try to: the idea that we're rooting for prisoners. The evil depiction of the prison guards and the light-hearted depiction of convicts for who-knows-what kind of left me uneasy. Nevertheless, it's pleasantly diverting, I suppose, and it manages to keep the formula (which, of course, leads up to "the big game) somewhat interesting. The last scene involving the Chris Rock character is just terrible, though.

Madagascar (Darnell/McGrath, 2005) - It's a wonderfully colorful and lively experience, certainly, but I did not for one minute mistake these qualities for originality. We've seen it all before, and it pains me to say it, because there's a lot of good stuff here that could've been extracted, shoved into a better plot, and worked immensely well. Visually, the film is very interesting, taking on many of the characteristics of hand-drawn animation, and, at the same time, retaining themarvelous, imaginative look of CGI. That Katzenburg sure does know how to sell stories; it's too bad that most of them aren't nearly as inventive as those of Disney. Nevertheless, this one should make a fine rental.

6/1 - 6/19

I can finally post and get caught up on reviews now that school's out. This thread is a start, eh?

In preferential order:

Cinderella Man (Howard, 2005)
Howl's Moving Castle (Miyazaki, 2005)
The Wild Parrots of Telgraph Hill (Irving, 2005)
The Machinist (Anderson, 2005)
Mr. and Mrs. Smith (Liman, 2005)
Mad Hot Ballroom (Agrelo, 2005)
The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants (Kwapis, 2005)
Imaginary Heroes (Harris, 2005)
The Perfect Man (Rosman, 2005)
Batman Begins (Nolan, 2005)
Seed of Chucky (Mancini, 2004)
D.E.B.S. (Robinson, 2005)

I adored the first two movies on the list, the first for its ability to allow its protaganist to simply be a great guy sans manipulation, and the second for its visual prowess and unapparent complexity. The beauty of the Miyazaki movie is that childen can take it at face value as amazing, outlandish fantasy and those inclined can look into the writer/director's rich symbolism. I'm also giving Batman Begins another chance because, out of the desire to see it on opening day, I saw it when sleep-deprived from finals at school. I zoned out a lot of the time and really disliked it, mainly because I just didn't care about Bruce Wayne. I hope to catch it again sometime this week. I owe it to Nolan to try again.

5/20 - 5/26

A lot of crap, for sure, but I won't say that I didn't ask for it. In preferential order:

Pulp Fiction (Tarantino, 1994) - Where do I start? Of all the masters of dialogue, Tarantino is the most in tune with what the viewer wants to hear--the random subjects, the details, the sound--and this is fully embraced by the pitch-perfect cast. The movie has a sort of mythical, jarring presence, which can be gritty, sexy, beautiful, dark, brutal, and disturbing all at once, as each shot is so incorporating, perfectly art-directed by Charles Collum. Somtimes Tarantino goes too far--he seems to be self-indulgent in all the wrong places in all of his movies (but I guess what makes the good stuff good is that it leaves us wanting more, eh?)--and his work suffers as a result. But, this is worth forgiving here, just 'cuz there are so many moments of genuine, twisted greatness in Pulp Fiction. Still, Reservoir Dogs, I think, is his best movie, albeit less of an encompassing motion picture than this one.

(repeated and changed opinion on:) Batman Begins (Nolan, 2005) - I was tired on opening day--what else could explain it? This time around, I was able to embrace the way director Nolan masters a blend of playfullness and viscera, crafting a tormented, vengeful protagonist. The reason I wasn't sympathetic or empathetic for Bruce Wayne the first time I saw the movie was because I took no notice of the way Nolan allows the atmosphere to show the way in which the dark, brooding brutality onscreen affects the character. It's really very amazing--gritty and unrelenting, but still very much characteristic of a filmic spectacle. Christian Bale, even with his face half-covered by a mask, proves expressively deep, when viewed under these parameters.

George Washington (Green, 2000) - Just as poetic as All The Real Girls, but I found its sort of everyday-tragic atmosphere to be far more effective than it was in that film. Beautifully shot and excellently performed, it's not in Undertow's league, but it keeps me excited to see what will come out of David Gordon Green next.

Boyz 'N The Hood (Singleton, 1991) - Singleton's imagery, motifs, and thematics are profoundly ridiculous and, as the characters evolve, they seem to become far more stereotypical than they should be. I found the exercise to be deeply lacking in emotional resonance; the I was jarred by the tragedy in the movie without being affected by it--if that makes any sense. I suppose what I found most fascinating about it was the way in which time and happenings mold the protagonist's psyche. The performances help to keep this aspect of the film interesting. Still, as any kind of statement or experiment, I found it to be very simplistic.

Herbie: Fully Loaded (Robinson, 2005) - Those things were CGI-deflated???

Miss Congeniality 2: Armed and Fabulous (Pasquin, 2005) - Not nearly as bad as I thought it would be, the movie somehow manages to be mildly entertaining when, at the same time, it has nothing entertaining about it. The cash-out sequel premise is almost as bad as what I assume they tried to propose for a Titanic 2. Still, for someone who doesn't like Sandra Bullock at all, it wasn't agony (although certainly not "fun", either). I actually like the first one. Go figure.

Alone In The Dark (Boll, 2005) - Particularly hilarious for awhile, mainly because of its terrible one-liners and ridiculous music selections. It's technically a worse movie than Boogeyman, but far more enjoyable, simply because its filmmakers don't have a brain in their heads and, in a way, realize this. One of the year's worst, no doubt, but amusingly so.

Boogeyman (Kay, 2005) - Also called How to Use Every Horror Movie Cliche Combined to Make A Movie That Doesn't Make Any Sense At All But Has An Audience Whose Members Will Think They Understand And This Will Make Them Very Proud of Themselves. This type of thing packs viewers into multiplex seats but isn't scary, interesting, or even remotely sensical. The opening fifteen minutes had me hoping for something psychological, but the movie ended up being exactly what I thought it would be: ridiculous. And, boy, that term makes it sound like it's remotely sane.